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catsteeth · 3 months

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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 13 ✿:+ What is Loyalty?

Chapter Index | next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, SMUT, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (Fem rec), multiple reader orgasms, insecure reader, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage,

A/N: We're back at it again. A longer chapter for the come back lol

Word Count: 8.2K

Sandor was part of Jon Snow’s party as they traveled through the lands beyond the wall on their mission to capture a wight. The party walked many many miles. Sandor contemplated what he was doing, he hated the extreme cold, but he reminded himself he was doing it for you.

As he stopped to retie his boot, a tall, but much shorter than Sandor, red haired man approached him.

“You’re the one they call the dog!” The man shouted as he approached Sandor.

Sandor finished tying his boot, “Fuck off.” He huffed casually as he continued on.

The attitude did not deter the man as he followed Sandor, “They told me you were mean. Were you born mean or you just hate Wildlings?”

“Don’t give two shits about Wildlings. Gingers I hate.” He said scowling at the red haired man.

The man amused by his words continued to talk despite Sandors obvious wishes for the conversation to end, “Gingers are beautiful, we’re kissed by fire. Just like you-“ The man said pointing a finger at Sandor's burned face.

Sandor hit the mans hand down and away from him, “Don’t point your fucking finger at me.” He barked at him.

Sandor walked away and yet somehow the man was not put off. He smiled and continued to walk alongside Sandor.

“Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?” The man pried into Sandor's past.

“I didn’t trip, I was pushed.” Sandor huffed as he kept walking, not looking at the man.

“And ever since you’ve been mean.” The man surmised.

“Will you fuck off?” Sandor annoyingly barked at him.

“I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes.” The man tried to understand him, it struck a chord somewhere deep within him. He remembered how you once said something like that to him a long long time ago, whispered in the night as you held onto him. It was his final straw.

Sandor stopped and scowled down at the red haired man, “You want to suck my dick is that it?”

“Dick?” The man asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Cock.” Sandor translated.

“Oh, dick... I like it.” The man shrugged, amused by the new word he had learned.

Sandor scrunched up his face, now just confused by the entire interaction, “Bet you do.” He mocked, as he continued to walk.

The man still followed him, “No, it’s pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell, if I ever get back there. (Y/H/C) hair…(Y/E/C) eyes…About this tall,” He gestured to your height. Sandor thought for a moment how similar his description was of you. But he was convinced it was a coincidence. “The perfect height for me. .” The man continued on, “Sharp tongued, bravest woman you’d ever seen. A high bred southern bird from a castle in the sky they say.” He said as if the memory of you was a breath of fresh air. However the description of you ran cold through Sandors body.

Sandor stopped, and turned to the man, “(Y/N) Arryn?”

“You know her?” He asked, happy to hear your name.

“You are with (Y/N) fucking Arryn?!” Sandor stepped closer, his words dripping with violent anger.

The man almost shrunk as he explained, “Well not with her yet… but I’ve seen the way she looks at me.”

Sandor scoffed, “How does she look at you?” He stepped closer to him, his words were dark and heavy, “Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?” His eyes narrowed onto the man.

“You do know her.” He said, narrowing his eyes back.

“Aye, I know her.” He scoffed as he kept walking, angry and jealous.

“You seen her fight?” He asked, following along with still.

“Fight?” Sandor practically spit his words at him.

“She’s a killer. I saw her take an arrow to her leg, while she bit a man's finger off, then she took that arrow, snapped it in half and stabbed that man in his eye with it.” He spoke of the violent act you committed, as if it were romantic.

Sandor shook his head and scoffed, “You’re a mad fucker you know that?” He knew now for certain you had too much good sense to be with a man like him, too much good sense to even entertain the idea.

The man continued, “It’s true. Cut through four men. Rode an entire army into battle. And fed a man to dogs.” Sandor thought of it, the last he saw of you you were a girl alone with no money, no army, no family, and the iron throne as an enemy against you. How could you have done so much, accomplished “I want to make babies with her. Think of them, they’d conquer the world!”

Sandor snapped, turning to the man and grabbing him by his fur coat, “If you say the word babies again I'll strangle you with your own guts.” He barked loudly at him.

“There will be no fighting on account of my cousin. Not while she’s resting and not while we are on this mission.” Jon said, making Sandor huff and let go of the man.

“She’s your cousin now?” The man with red hair asked. Remembering when he told you you were not his cousin when you first met.

Jon looked down, somewhat regretful of his words, “She showed great loyalty to my blood, her blood. Cousin is close enough.” He said as he continued to walk, “And I will not have any of you fight over her favor when we’ve a matter of great importance to see to.”

Sandor reluctantly continued on, angry and jealous. But now he knew where you were, and knew you were alive. That was enough for him to continue.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You lost so much in the war. Lika was your horse sense you were but a child. She was the first horse you’d learned to ride. You lost the last man who was eternally loyal to you, the last man who loved you in the way only a father could. As if that weren’t enough, your body was now littered with healing scars. A constant reminder of the price you paid.

You sat by the fire in your chamber. You wore a white chemise and wrapped yourself in a fur as you examined the scar on your thigh. Running your finger over it, going over the memory of the pain.

As you did, your chamber door opened suddenly. Making you pull your chemise down and covering your bare legs.

Sansa walked in, closing the door behind her. “You’ve not left your chambers in some time.” She said, gently.

You let your guard down, relaxing. You looked into the fire, “Resting. Rest is needed to heal.”

“You're healed.” She said bluntly, you looked at her, “Well, your leg is healed.” She replied plainly.

You sighed, you knew she was right. You had used your injury as an excuse long enough. “Time they say.” you said dispassionately, “It heals all, though I am not sure of that.” You said gloomily.

Sansa approached you, sitting beside you, “You never told me.” You looked at her confused. “The man you said you loved, that Baelish took from you.” She clarified.

You took a deep breath, looking into the fire, “Sandor Clegane.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the sound of his name.

“The Hound.” She spoke calmly.

You shook your head slowly as you thought back to it, “I just called him Sandor.” You looked into the fire again. Sansa’s silence made you feel uneasy. You didn’t dare look at her, fearful of her reaction. You knew she and he were in Kings Landing at the same time, maybe she’d only seen the cruelty that was demanded of him. “I know many think he was cruel-”

She interrupted your words, “He clothed me once. When Joffrey ordered his men to strip me while they beat me in the throne room. He didn’t.” You looked at her, you listened to her story as warm tears began to rise in your eyes, and your nose and cheeks began to flush with heat, “He gave me his white cloak.” She placed a hand on yours, “He was kind.” She smiled softly as she spoke kindly of your beloved rather than pass any judgment. You were grateful for that.

You smiled, and sniffed your now runny nose, “Thank you.” You said as she wiped a tear from your cheek, forcing you to realize your tears had begun to fall. You breathed a laugh as you wiped them with the back of your hand. You looked down at the of yours hand that Sansa held, “I miss him.” You nodded, your smile falling, replaced with a frown, “His pain has ended, but… I am in agony.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed.

Sansa held you. It reminded you of when you both were in Kings Landing and the roles were reversed. You always held her when she cried, you tried your best to comfort her but it never worked. Now you understand.

You pulled away and swallowed your sobs, wiping away the rest of your tears with it. You took a deep breath.

Sansa tucked your hair behind your ear as she spoke softly, “You hide it well enough to the others.”

You huffed, tired of your emotion. “I have to have my moments of misery. If not I would throw myself from the highest tower I could find.” You let out one deep breath “You’re the only one I’d ever tell that to.”

“I understand the feeling.” She nodded,

You looked at her and focused on her experiences, “You’ve grown so much, you know. Not that you'd have any choice. Girls are beaten into women. But all the same, you’ve grown.” You forced a smile.

“In King's Landing I watched you closely. Every Time I was scared I thought of what you would have done. I learned how to carry myself from the strongest woman I know.” She smiled at you, and you smiled back, gripping tighter onto her hand. “Speaking of, I received this,” She looked down at the letters she received earlier that day.

You opened it, your brows furrowed, “An invitation to King's Landing?” You scoffed at such a ridiculous idea.

Sansa rolled her eyes in agreement, “For the both of us. For the Ladies of the North and East.” She sighed, “I know it is a part of Jon’s plan. But I can’t go back there.” She said defeatedly.

“I won’t leave you.” You said throwing the invitation into the fire you sat beside. “Send Brienne as your representative of the North. I will send Ser Leon in representation of myself.” You said confidently.

She nodded, looked down then back to you, “There is more than this. Bran and Arya have returned to Winterfell.”

You smiled, genuinely. You felt happiness for once in a very long while. Knowing Arya was safe gave you great happiness. You looked at Sansa, grinning from ear to ear. You grabbed ahold of both her hands, “I am happy for you.” You spoke earnestly.

Sansa however looked conflicted “He says he is something called the three eyed raven.”

“He sees visions?” You asked, you’d heard tales of such a thing but did not know if it were real.

“Of the past and the present, it would seem.” She explained, she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “You should talk to him. Relieve yourself of some of those uncertainties.” You nodded.

You stood and looked out the window, you saw your men stationed in Winterfell. You felt once more the sting of responsibility. Then once more, I felt the weight of your sorrow. Conflicted with what others must have been saying. The maddened lady of grief.

“What are they saying?” You asked, you looked behind you towards Sansa, “About me?” You clarified.

“Stories of your bravery and loyalty towards your men and people have traveled far. They are calling you the relentless lady of the mountain and vale.” She smiled as she stepped towards you.

“A generous lie.” You said, still convinced otherwise.

She shook her head, “I’d not lie to you.” She said as she stepped closer, placing her hands on your shoulders, “Let’s dress you. I believe it is time you continued with your journey.”

You smiled, and nodded. You knew your duty. You knew your oath.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You walked along around the high walls of Winterfell. You looked down upon your men who had camped out front of the walls. Helping Northern houses with the preparations of the coming war. You smiled upon the Knights, you felt pride in them. You were not a northerner and yet still, you could feel the North's appreciation of your mens labors.

“You’re a woman now.” You heard from behind you. As you turned around you saw Arya. She stood taller than the last time you'd seen her. Dressed in black leather and fur.

You smiled, as you approached her, “I could say the same to you. Though you look more like a knight. It suits you.” You placed her hands on her shoulders, then ran them down to her hands.

“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.

“I often wondered on you. How you were and what you were doing.” You spoke softly as your eyes took her in. Still surprised by how much she’d grown since you’d last seen her.

“If I was dead?” She asked bluntly,

You stifled a laugh, “No. No, I knew you and your needle would survive. You’ve a brave heart.” You said as you looked at her sword.

“As do you.” She said as she removed her sword, handing it to you. You took it in hand and examined it. “Only a brave heart could love a Hound.” She said as you looked at it. Your eyes darted from the blade back to her,

“Did Sansa tell you this?” You questioned her with narrow eyes.

She grinned as she shook her head, “No. He did.” You looked at her with interest as you handed her sword back to her. She put her sword back in its sheath “He took from the brotherhood. To sell me off to my mother and brother, then to aunt Lyssa. Though I suspect it was simply a ploy to get to you… I see it now.” She said as though she were proud of her observation.

You looked down, “What did he say?” You asked, almost embarrassed to ask it.

“He didn’t go on about it. Only that he failed you, and he cared for you.”

“Were you there when he died?”

Her ever present grin faded, “I left him there.”

You looked down, “It has taken a lot within me to hold my own bias aside. I understand he could be… abrasive. Hard for others to understand.”

Arya felt herself feel a slight tinge of guilt, “He fought for me harder than I’d ever seen anyone fight.” She said, attempting to comfort you, “I didn’t like him. But I can respect that.” She nodded, you smiled softly.

“You cannot tell anyone.” You commanded but it was practically a plea as you held onto her hand.

“I won’t.” She shook her head.

“I am so happy to see you.” You said with a smile, finally taking in the fact she was here.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later in the courtyard you found Bran under the tree. You remembered what Sansa had said to you. You decided to see for yourself.

“Bran,” You announced your presence as you walked closer to him.

Bran looked over to you, “Cousin.” he stated stoically.

You smiled at him, “How you’ve grown. You’re a man now.”

“Almost.” He stated, again without emotion.

You sighed uncomfortably. Unsure of how or if you could comfort him. So you decided not to. “Sansa tells me you called yourself the three eyed raven.”

“I am.” He stated confidently.

You sat beside him, you smiled as you recounted a memory “I’d only heard stories of it, when I was a child. The ladies would tell me of it. Threaten that the three eyed raven would know if I were lying.” You looked at Bran,

“I would.” He stated plainly.

Your eyes narrowed in curiosity “Prove it.” you nearly whispered,

You looked upon you for a moment, “You were with child. Once.” Your blood ran cold. You stared at him with shocked and horrified eyes. “Forced to drink a tea to end it. You wore a blue velvet robe, it had silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves.” He spoke emotionlessly.

“I was?” You asked, your voice wavered as you ignored the rest of his statement. You need not hear anything more.

He nodded slowly “You were.”

You swallowed any emotion that rose. “Thank you.” You nodded. Now fully convinced in his ability, you knew what you had to ask him. “I need to know of my father.”

He looked at you, as if he was surprised you asked. “Littlefinger conspired with your aunt Lyssa to poison and kill your father. But you already knew that.”

You let out a huff, fighting tears, “I did.” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for what's happened to you.” He said earnestly,

“As I am for you.” You said mournfully.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. Or I’d not be what I am now.” You looked at him with concern, and confusion. But you soon understood what he meant.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor and Jon’s mission was a success. However it did have its losses. Daenerys Had lost a dragon and Sandor had lost Thoros. It was hard but they captured the Wright as intended.

Sandor traveled with Jon to be sure his mission was completed and your cousin arrived safely. Soon enough he would be returning to Winterfell.

At the front of the ship Jon and Tyrion stood as they looked upon Kings Landing approaching in the distance.

“How many people live there?” Jon Asked,

“A million give or take.” Tyrion stated coldly.

“That’s more people than the entire North, crammed into that. Who would want to live that way?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“There's more work in the city. And the brothels are far superior.” Tyrion said as he scanned the other ships that had arrived for the meeting. He saw an Arryn ship in the distance. “I see Littlefinger has arrived.”

Jon shook his head, “That ship sails for Lady Arryn.” Tyrion's uncaring demeanor dropped, “The colors are inverted, it’s her claims support.” Jon stated.

“So the stories were true?” Tyrion takes a step closer to the edge of the ship to get a better look.

“Aye.” Jon said, he looked at Tyrion looking off at your ship longingly “You were betrothed to each other?” He asked, uncomfortably.

“We were.” Tyrion stated stoically,

“You loved her?” Jon questioned.

“Might have.” Tyrion said, though he knew he did.

Jon huffed, “You and the rest of the men on this ship it would seem.”

Tyrion, not knowing what he meant, looked behind him at Tormund and Sandor who looked off at your ship longing just as he was. Though all three would be equally disappointed to find out you sent a Knight to represent you rather than appear yourself.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When in KingsLanding Sandor was in charge of transporting the Wright.

A Lannister Guard approached Sandor,

“What's in there?” The Guard questioned,

Sandor looked back at the man, surprised someone was questioning him, “Fuck off.” He said annoyingly.

Sandor then saw a tall blonde woman, the very one that almost killed him.

Brienne approached him as they walked,

“Thought you were dead.” She stated bluntly,

“Not yet. You came pretty close.” He acknowledged her ability.

“I was only trying to protect her.” Brienne tried to defend herself.

“You and me both.” Sandor sighed,

“She’s alive.” Brienne said, Sandor looking at her in surprise, “Arya.”

“Where?” He asked looking ahead, pretending not to care.

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you're here?” He questioned,

“The only one who needs protecting is the one that gets in her way.” She said with a smirk, shared by Sandor at the thought. Brienne then looked at Sandor once again, “As the same goes with Lady (Y/N).” He looked at her with surprise, “She’s scowled at me ever since she heard I killed you. I assumed it meant something, but I was right.” She sighed.

Sandor looked away trying to remain composed, “She alright?” He questioned,

“No. Though you don’t get names like (Y/N), the brave, the unrelenting, the unconquerable, or the Inured without suffering a great deal.” Brienne said, Sandor felt guilt wash over him again,

“What happened?” Sandor asked, still looking ahead.

“You’ll have to ask her.” Breinne said, knowing that soon he and you would meet again.

Sandor looked at her once more and smiled.

That was until the Lannister guards approached Sandor and the Box the Wright remained in.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out of your chamber window to see Jon Snow and his armies returning. You tried to look for Ser Leon through a voice behind you interrupted your attempt to do so.

“My Lady,” You turned around to see another knight of the Vale, you smiled and nodded for him to continue, “I am to announce the arrival of Jon Snow and Daenerys Stormborn.” He said,

“Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked, knowing she’d not be happy with the arrival of an outsider.

“Already waiting at the gates, my Lady.” He said,

“We shall join her.” You said as you continued on through the door, on your way to join your cousin.

The Knight nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” He said as he followed you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You saw Sansa alongside Bran waiting at the Gates. You approached her,

“You don’t look happy.” You said as you locked your arm around hers.

She smiled slightly at you, “Neither do you.”

You shrugged, “I am hard to please, I suppose.” You looked out at the crowds of men entering Winterfell, “But your brother has returned with a large army for your people. That should please you.” You said as you rubbed her arm with your hand.

She sighed, “He returned with a new Queen, one I don’t know and do not trust. One who wishes to rule this very Kingdom.” She scoffed.

You shrugged again, “Yes, well I suppose that is problematic.” You said as two large dragons flew overhead.

You’d never seen anything so large and magnificent take to the sky. You smiled as you watched the three dragons fly with one another through the sky.

“Hard to please?” Sansa said looking at how taken you were by the sight.

“I’ve never seen one before, much less two. You must admit it is extraordinary.” You said without looking at her, still looking at the dragons in the sky. You finally looked at her, “A little.” you shrugged,

“A clear presentation of her power.” She said irritated.

“Well… If you got it…” You attempted to reason but she gave you a scowl that made you stop. “Apologies.” You said. As you saw your cousin ride into Winterfell, you felt it was not your place to welcome an outsider into Winterfell. Especially since you yourself were outside. “I’ll leave you to make a proper introduction.” You smiled at her, trying to get her to lighten up.

As you walked back into the castle you heard a familiar voice speak,

“(Y/N)?” Tyrion spoke, “Or, do you prefer Lady of the Vale, now?” He breathed a chuckle but he was fighting back heartbreaking emotion.

You felt the guilt you felt long ago surge again, “Tyrion. Or do you prefer Hand of the Queen?” You jested in return.

He took a step towards you, “It would seem you are acting as hand to the Queen of the north said by some.”

You shook your head, “We are kin… we are close. But that is all.”

“Two women betrothed to me who ran away.” He jested, self deprecatingly.

“Don’t feel too bad about it. We both suffered for it.” You said earnestly.

He shook his head, “I did not want you to suffer. I never did.”

“I know. I did suffer though. I still am.” You said quietly.

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay here.” He said walking closer to you.

“Where would I go?” You asked, as if his idea were ridiculous. His eyes however told a different story. You could see the emotion, the longing, “No.” You said recoiling from him.

He followed you, “I have loved you since I first saw you.” He pleaded

“Please don’t.” You winced at the word ‘love’.

He grabbed your hand, “I have to know where you went, and why.”

You huffed, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to have this conversation. But knowing that the truth would hurt him, it would also set him free. “I left with Sandor Clegane. He took me with the intention of delivering me to my aunt Catelyn Stark.” You said bluntly.

“Why would he take you?”

“You know why.” You said with furrowed brows, he then looked down, you could see the pain that he felt wash over his face. You sighed “I’m sorry. I am, I tried to love you in the way you wanted, the way that was demanded of me by duty and I couldn’t. I have no doubt that you would have been a doubting and loyal husband. And maybe if we were married I would have found peace. But when he asked me to leave with him I couldn’t help it, I loved him. I never felt that way for anyone.” You walked towards him once more, “You were a dear friend to me.” You held his hand, “Very dear, you gave me consideration no else did.”

“I would have given you everything- anything.” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. Perhaps both.

“I can get it myself.” You said. Never willing to ever use your hand as a bargaining chip for land or armies again.

“That is your way, I suppose. The reason I-“

You interrupted him before he could say he loved you once more, “You wouldn’t want me. You wouldn’t, not really. I am pigheaded and my ambitions are large. We would argue all the time, every time we spoke in Kings Landing it was a debate. Neither of us would be happy.” You blurted out. Just wishing he would see it your way.

“Anything more?” He asked pained,

“No.” You said. He began to walk away, “Except that-” You called out, making him turn around towards you. He nodded wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a breath, “With him gone, Tyrion… I do not believe I will ever wed. Ever find love truly. I don’t believe I will ever carry a child in me, and I don’t believe I will ever be happy.” You shook your head.

He smiled, though clearly upset. “I think you are very wrong about that. I think you will see that very soon. And I will watch.” His smile faded and he walked away.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later that day Podrick walked with you on the high walls of Winterfell. You and he were tasked by Lady Sansa to take further inventory of the new armies for the coming war. As you walked along the wall you heard a loud Caw! Of a Falcon. You looked to the sky and saw Lenaera. You grabbed an armored glove that laid against other supplies by the wall. She landed on your gloved hand. She fluttered her wings happily and you smiled as you pet her feathers on her head.

By chance you peered down at the courtyard to see a tall and large man staring at you. A man who thought was dead.

“Podrick?” You said, your eyes wide.

“Yes, my Lady?” Podrick asked,

“Am I dead?” You asked sincerely,

“N-no, My Lady.” Podrick responded concernedly

“Dreaming?” You asked again, bluntly.

“No, My Lady.” Podrick again responded with concern,

“You told me the Hound was dead.” You said, Podrick looked down to where you looked and saw the man standing there. Soon his eyes went wide as well.

“I thought he was.” He said shocked.

“Take Laenera.” You said placing her on his arm.

“Yes, my Lady-” He said before Lenaera’s talons dug into his leather sleeves, “Ah!” He hissed as you dropped the glove and ran into the castle.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

You gathered your skirts up as you made hast down the stairs within the castle. As you were running down the hall, you saw a tall and large man running down the same hall from the opposite end. You both stopped at the same time, as if the sight of the other paralyzed the other. You felt like you were looking at a ghost of the man you loved. Your hands released your skirts as you let out a sharp and painful breath.

He stared at you, his eyes filled with emotion, “That fucking birds yours?”

You didn’t respond, still in shock by the man before you. Sandors demeanor calmed, became more earnest, “I heard you were here. Didn’t want to let myself believe it. ‘Case it were horse shit.” He said taking some steps towards you, though he stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes well.

You let out another curt breathe as you held in your tears, a wave of emotion crashed against your form as you heard his voice for the first time in so long. “I heard you were dead.” You said walking closer to him, “I thought you were dead.” A tear fell from your eye, stepping closer “I believed you were dead.” You stopped, your emotion taking hold of you, “You were dead, I-I-” You shook your head unable to understand.

Sandor stepped towards you, closing the space that remained, “I’m not.” He held your face in his hands, you noticed they were rougher than before. “I’m here.” He said gentler than you were used to. You placed your hands on top of his that held your face. “I’m not leaving.” He continued to comfort you.

It took you a moment to realize you were somewhat out in the open. Any Lady or Lord could walk down the hall the two of you stood there. You weren’t used to that. Being in the open with your affection. He would sneak into your chambers in the early hours of the morn or the late hours of the night. Never this. But, there were no more Lannisters, no more Littlefinger, no more Bolton, there was no other person or house that would threaten your status or standing. No one to hold your virtue over your head. So, you did not care.

“You needed me.” He said assertively as if he were angry with himself.

He wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, You blinked hard. Swallowing your emotions and taking a breath. Grounding yourself. You nodded, “I did. But I had myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “But, I still need you.” You nearly whispered, You looked around for a moment, the hall was still empty but for how long? You looked to your side and noticed you and he were coincidently standing beside the door to your chambers. You held onto his wrist with one of your hands, you pulled him along. “Come inside and be alone with me.” You said in a quiet voice what some might think of a seductive voice.

As you entered your chambers, he closed your door, “Lock it.” You said not realizing how bold it seemed, “Many forget to knock on my door.” You explained as you took a pitcher of water from a table by your door, walking over to the fireplace and extinguishing the fire, to make him more comfortable.

“I can make sure they don’t forget.” He said with a possessive and protective tone.

You missed it, you hadn’t heard it in so long. You walked with haste towards him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He in return, wrapped his thick arms around you. He lifted you up as your lips met.

They met for the first time in so long. Your lips, as well as his, were cold from the northern air. But the heat from his tongue warmed you.

“Are you staying?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from his kiss. You searched his eyes, with your own. You missed his gaze dearly.

He nodded, breathless, “With you.” He said, putting you down, “I’ll go where you go.” He vowed.

“I’ve never seen you without armor.” You smiled looking over him as your hands ran over the leather top he wore.

“You have.” He said candidly

Your gazes blinked up to his, “I mean… real clothing.” You said holding back a laugh, “You look handsome.” You said earnestly.

“Fuck off.” He said dismissively, looking away from you, assuming you were lying.

You placed a hand on his scarred cheek. Redirecting his gaze back towards you. His eyes looked into yours seeing that you were honest “I missed you.” You said almost dreamily with an absent minded smile as you gazed upon the face you thought you’d never see again. Your smile faded a bit, you shook your head, “I can’t begin to… explain how terrible it was.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down. “I know.” He was disappointed in himself, “I thought of you.” He said looking back into your eyes, “A lot.” He admitted.

As you gazed into his soft eyes, you knew he should know. He should know about the babe. He should know the things LittleFinger did. The kiss he forced on you. He should know of Ramsay, he should know of your journey. “There’s things I should tell you.” You said almost shamefully.

Sandors eyes hardened, “You fuck that ginger?” He questioned,

“Gods no!” You said with disgust, you answered quickly, surprised by the question. “His attempts at wooing me have grown constant and boring.” You rolled your eyes, then settled your gaze on him once again “I’d only ever thought of one man.” Your tone is softer.

“He said he wants make fucking babies with you.” He sneered, not angry at you but at the man. He loved you like he loved no one, and he knew he was not the only one.

“You sound jealous.” You said teasingly.

“I am.” He said with a snarl.

“You needn’t be.” You said in a whisper into his lips as you kissed him again. “Let me look at you.” You said running your hands from his face, down to his chest, “you’ve let your beard go.” You said in a melancholy tone.

All the time that had passed truly had gotten away from Sandor. It was then that the emotion hit him. Sandor dropped to his knees. Placed his hands against the small of you back, pushing you forward as he rested his head against your belly.

he was desperate,

you’d never seen him like this. You held his head in your hands, running your fingers through his hair.

“It’s alright.” You whispered, you understood how he was feeling. Feeling that he failed you.

“It’s not.” he whispered back.

“We can start again.” You said as you petted his hair, “We could be together, truly, never hiding.” You said like you were dreaming of it right then and there.

He hummed against your stomach, “I’m not a man of honor.” He said as though he were shameful of himself.

“Men of honor die all the same, I’d rather be with you.” You spoke softly as your hands sweetly ran through his hair, and your other rubbed circles against his back, “Do you not wish for me to be your wife?” You asked, scared for the answer, but needing it all the same.

He shook his head, “I wish it for me, not for you.”

You shook your head and huffed, “Look at us. this isn’t wrong. how could something that feels so good be wrong? You are no longer a piece on a board in Kings Landing. Nor am I. I don’t know about you but I refuse to be one again. Let me be yours and be mine.” You felt silly for opening yourself up like this, in a way you’d never had before. But it was something you had to do. You couldn’t allow for the same cycle you and he fell into King's Landing to continue. “When you were gone, I went to war and felt no fear. No fear because if I died I would see you. I’d be with you again. I cannot go back to wishing for moments with you. I wish for a life with you because I love you and I need you. If you love me then don’t leave me again.” You pleaded softly.

He was silenced for a moment, but then, his hands traveled tighter around your back. He looked up at you, “Be my wife.” He pleaded, his love seeping through his gruff tone.

“Yes.” You said, sweetly. You let out a small gasp as you felt his rough, large hand trail up your leg, “Yes,” you whispered to him, his eyes remaining connected to yours, his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, “Yes… yes” You continued to whispered against his movements, his fingers sneaking their way under your small clothes and toying with your sex “Yes…yes…yes-“ your whispers becoming louder, more breathless and closer to a whine. You ran fingers from his hair to his scarred cheek, you carassed it as you moaned, “My husband-Ah!” you were cut off as his finger slid inside of you, forcing a moan out of you. You grasped his scarred face harder as he did so,

“Say it again.” He rasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

You caught your breath as he hiked your skirts up and over his head, You could feel his beard scratching at your inner thighs, “My husban-nnnd” your voice hitched and drawn out into a moan as you felt his breathe graze across your cunt, soon feeling the heat of his tongue as it lapped up your sweetness. He sucked on your clit as his fingers found your sweet spot, pushing against your velvet walls. It had been so long since you felt someone know your body so well, and he didn't forget a thing about it. You felt the tightness in your belly finally release. As you reached your peak you cried out. Sandor drank you in groaning and fucking his fingers even deeper into you. “Sandor,” you whined, “I need, I need more.” You said with furrowed brows as you gripped onto his head beneath your skirts.

As he stood, his mouth crashed into yours. You could taste your own release on his lips. His kiss was desperate, and passionate. Making up for all the times he wished he could have done it. His hands roamed your body erratically and roughly.

He began to kiss down your jaw and neck, “I’ve missed your tongue.” you said breathlessly with a smirk and heavy eyes.

He licked up from your neck to your ear, making you moan. “Let me see you.” He spoke in your ear as he untied the back of your dress, though his large hands could hardly figure out the fragile ties.

You felt a sting of insecurity.

You looked down, as your hands aided Sandor in untying your gown. He continued to kiss and lick at your body slowly as more and more of your skin was revealed. Until you were left in your small clothes. Your scars showed, the one on your thigh, the one on your forearm, and even others that had come with time and war. Sandors eyes trailed over you, longingly.

“You don’t have to look.” You said as you looked down, somewhat ashamed of the scars you had earned valiantly. “I know I hurt to look at.”

Sandor stepped towards you, his eyes confused and bewildered. “Fuck are you on about? Feel me.” He said with furrowed brows. You looked confused for a moment until your hand trailed down from his stomach to his mounting bulge, he let out a groan. He hadn’t felt your touch in so long, and you hadn’t felt a man's body in so long, or wanted to. Your eyes snapped from his hardening, hot, and throbbing bulge that your hand caressed, to his gaze. Deeply lustful and full of longing. “Does that feel like you hurt to look at.” He asked as his hand grasped your jaw. His lips connected to your own, his facial hair tickled in a familiar and delightful way. As your mouths danced together you felt his tongue aching for the warmth of yours. To which you happily complied. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it made you all the more wet. As you did he pulled off your small clothes, practically ripping them off.

He stood there looking at your naked body, he let out a groan and you rubbed his hardened cock through his pants again.

“You’re not a woman, take your own clothes off.” You said assertively as you brushed past him laying down on your bed. He let out a dry chuckle as he obeyed your command.

You laid on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. You bent one of your legs bringing your knee close to your chest as you pressed your slick thighs together.

He climbed on top of you. Kissing you once more. Passionately, slowly. Taking in the pleasure of your soft and plush lips, relishing in the taste that he missed so deeply. His tongue met yours in tandem as his hands ran over your body erratically. As if he couldn’t believe you were underneath him again, he didn’t know where to start with you but he knew how much he wanted all of it. His attention was soon directed to your breasts. He’d missed them dearly. Thought of them as he worked himself in the late hours of the night.

He slid down and took them in his mouth. Sucking at your breasts, biting them in just the way you liked. As he did you wrapped your legs around his hard back, and rocked your hips against his hard stomach, attempting to soothe the growing ache in your core.

The sounds of your moans created made him even harder than could bare “I can’t wait anymore, I want my woman. My wife.” His voice was dark and deep.

You nodded as he kissed your lips,

You kissed passionately, your lips swollen and wanting. As your lips met, and your tongues found one another again. You felt the head of his cock, already leaking, begin to press against your entrance. As he pushed in you felt the burn of the stretch. You almost forgot how large he was. You gasped and winced, Sandor stopped himself from moving for a moment, looking at you to see if you were alright.

You gripped onto his shoulder digging your nails into him, “It’s been a long time.” You explained.

He nodded as he brushed your hair out of your face, “Too fucking long.” He said, holding back a moan from the pure euphoria of your cunt.

“You haven't taken another?” You asked breathlessly, possibly not the best time.

He shook his head, and in return you held his face and kissed him deeply. “I want all of it.” You whispered into his ear.

He complied, happily. Pushing his cock into your until he was completely inside of you.

You muffled your moans into his neck as you clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his back. “Fuck!” He barked, “Gods you’re tight, does it hurt?” He asked.

It did, it burned, and you were almost overwhelmed. But Gods, it was perfect. You needed it, badly.

“Husband,” You pleaded into his lips, the words made his cock twitch inside of you, “fuck me.” You whined as you kissed him deeply.

As he thrusted in and out of you with the built up lust and longing he had inside of him. You bit down on his lip as he moaned out. You threw your head back, unable to hold in your moans any longer.

He took pleasure in thrusting in you harder to hear you cry out even louder. “Fuck! I missed your cunt, your sweet fucking cunt!” He grunted, he felt you clench around him harder and harder, “Give it to me!” He groaned, “I want my wife to cum.” He grunted through gritted teeth.

“Yes!” You pleaded as his pace only became more and more furious and erratic, “Ah!” You shouted as you felt yourself release a second time,

“That’s it-” He groaned as he felt your release cover his cock, making it only easier for his cock to slip in and out with ease. It made your cunt even more euphoric, he could hold himself in any longer,

“I want it inside of me,” You begged breathlessly,

“Good.” He groaned against your skin, “Cause I want to fill my wife with my seed.” He said through gritted teeth.

You kissed him deeply as he did just that. He moaned into your mouth as he spilled his hot seed inside of you deeply. Driving you towards another release you didn’t know was there.

After... You laid there, breathing. Trying to catch your breath. Sandor laid there with his head resting against your chest. Listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair.

You laid there in each other's arms for what felt like a lifetime. But you didn’t want it to end.

Soon Sandor spoke again, “That ginger cunt says you killed a man.” His voice was so gruff and deep it almost startled you after basking in the silence for so long.

“I did.” You said stoically.

“That makes two men you’ve killed.” He said as if he were proud.

“Five.” You corrected, he looked up at you from your chest, “Six if you’re counting the one from the riot.” You said petting his cheek,

“I am.” He said, he looked surprised by you.

“Six then.” You nodded, “Killed four men in the battle. Then I killed Ramsay.”

“How’d you do it?” He asked, genuinely interested.

“Ramsay? Hounds.” You smirked, noting the irony.

Sandor chuckled at it as well, “You’re different now.”

“Is that bad?” You asked, running your fingers down his back comfortingly.

“No.” He shook his head, “None of it would have happened if I was there.” He said as though he were disappointed in himself.

“I know.” You were confident it wouldn’t have. But it did, and it was no one's fault but those who committed the acts against you.

Sandor took your forearm, looked at the scar, Lyssa left you with.

“What happened?” He asked protectively, wanting to know who he’d have to kill.

You sighed, “It’ll be a hard thing to hear.” You said sitting up. You wrapped yourself in fur as you laid beside him once more, “You’ll be angry. Furious even. I know because I feel the same way. But this once, just feel the sorrow with me.” You asked him, he nodded.

And so you did. You told him your story. How you were attacked by Lyssa. How Baelish forced you to end your pregnancy. How he attempted to force himself on you. How he killed your aunt. How Ramsay tormented you. You told him of the Battle, you told him of Ser Cole. You told him everything.

Sandor was silent for just a moment. Until he sat up “I’ll kill hi-”

You interrupted his anger as you sat up with him. “No anger. Not here. Not our first night.” You pleaded as you held his face in your hand. Calming him.

He held onto your wrist, “I will take care of you.” He said earnestly, “I’ll protect you.” He vowed.

“You can’t. No one can.” You shook your head.

He looked at you. Saddened that you’d no longer believe in that promise. “I will.” He vowed.

You, still, unbelieving, nodded. You leaned towards him, and rested your forehead against his own.

You didn’t want to love him this much. And he didn’t want to love you this much. And yet here you both were. Your love was formidable, unrelenting, and merciless. There was not a thing in the known world you’d not do for him. And not a thing in this known world that he’d not do for you.

You had an army and now, you had your man. Now that all left to do was to go and get what you were owed.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: It's no use (Y/N) we gotta have it out. Also you cannot tellll me that mf wouldn’t pull out the “My Wife” card every chance he got like…. That's all. Also got I feel like I am finally free and can write smut again thank god. We are about to have our own version of the royal wedding lmao K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky @vikingswhore0

@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06 @symonedoesart

@wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter @vikingswhore0 @drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare @lavenderbreeze3

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lailoken · 9 months

Text

Black Cockerel at the Crossorads

Sometimes, when I have called on a spirit for aid, I recognize their responses in omens as subtle as abupt shifts in the weather or a sudden chorus of birdsong. Other times, however, the omens are considerably more conspicuous.

A while back, I carried out an important rite in which I called upon the aid of a powerful Crossroads Entity. If succesfully carried out, I was to encounter an "unmistakable sign" to confirm the support of this petitioned Wight, and while I didn't know what this would look like, I trusted that I would know when I saw it.

Three days later, I was forced to pull over in a town I'm not especially familiar with in order to check on the directions I was following. I parked in the first seemingly innocuous spot I could find, which appeared to be a little dead-end pullout. When I parked, however, I was immediately shocked to notice a black rooster wandering pleasantly about the area. I got out of my car to check on it and see if it was alright, and I discovered that it wasn't just a black rooster, but a melanistic one (meaning that it bears a mutation, similar to albinism, that results in the hyper-production of pigment.) This, in itself, was quite unusual, but what really stunend me was the way the rooster acted towards me. He followed me around, and when I put out my hand, he pecked at it with sweet curiosity before allowing me to pat him like one might a cat. Then, when I put out both hands planning to stroke either side of him, he simply walked right into my arms and nuzzled into me, allowing me to pick him up with no qualms at all. He even jumped into my car when I was sitting back inside it to do a quick reading on the situation, and most bizarrely (and endearingly) of all, he literally picked a (very telling) card out of the deck for me while I was reading.

Just as I was deciding that he was likely a lost or abandoned pet and getting ready to take him with me somewhere, he ran off like a mischievous sprite and disappeared. While I shook my head in bewilderment and called my husband to tell him about it, I discovered that what had looked like a dead-end to me when I pulled over earlier actually had a discreet route through it. Realizing that this surreal encounter took place at a "hidden crossroads" of sorts gave me goosebumps and left no doubt in my mind that I had received my "unmistakable sign."

#magic #spirits #spirit work #omens #crossroads #crossroads spirits #traditional witchcraft #folk magic

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sacredshadow · 8 months

Note

"Due to personal reasons, I'm evil now" Sliske

Tumblr text post prompts part 2

Note: this one is set in the 5th age and is a bit ridiculous.

“Evil, huh? What’s that going to mean?” Azzanadra asked, looking at Sliske’s excited face. “What villainous things are you planning?” Sliske smiled and pulled his hood further over his face, probably intending to appear dark and mysterious but instead looking like a silly Mahjarrat with their hood pulled down too far. “I’m not going to tell you my plans! You’ll- uh, what if you- I’m not telling you! That’s like, the number one rule of being evil!” “So, you don’t have any plans? Do you have a lair or something?” “OH YEAH I NEED AN EVIL VILLAN LAIR YESSS!!! Wait I think the real estate place is closed today.” Azzanadra sat down on the armrest of the couch. “So, if you don’t have any plans or a lair, what about yourself are you considering ‘evil’?”

He thought for a moment. “Wait, necromancy is evil, right?” Sliske snapped his fingers and a few of his wights appeared behind him. “Hey, no wights in the house!” Sliske gave Azzanadra a devious smile, indicating that he was evil and didn’t care for the rules. “At least make them take their shoes off…” Azzanadra requested, but Sliske just laughed. “I’m evil now! Mwahahaha!” Sliske ran off down the hallway, for some reason tearing off his shirt and throwing it back into Azzanadra’s face. “Well, alright. As long as this means you’re going to be naughty in the bedroom…” Azzanadra sighed, earning another cackle from Sliske. Well, this might be fun. What was the worst that could happen?

#azzanadra #sliske #fanfics

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michelleleewise · 2 years

Note

Okie, I wanna see how you'd take this idea Darling. So Loki comes back after a veeeery long mission (like a few months), seeing his s/o lost quite a bit of weight. I'm dieting and I'm really proud of losing about 20kg in a healthy way, and I'd just love to hear how you think Loki would react noticing it! Love you, keep doing awesome work!!

Hiiii!!! Congratulations!!!! That's so awesome!!! Losing wight is definitely a battle and you should be very proud ofyourself, I'm proud of you!!!💚💚 sorry this took me awhile to get to!!! I hope you like it!!!!💚💚💚💚

====================================

Proud of You

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: none, we're here for the fluff today,

Summary: loki had been away on am extended mission,it was agony only hearing his voice, but he was coming back today and you couldn't wait to show him the new you......

You got word from Tony that Loki would be landing within the hour. You rushed to your shared room, hunting through your clothes for the new outfit you bought just for him, and the lingerie set that went with it. You hadn't seen your god in three months and you desperately needed him in every way.

You put the lace green bra and panty set on, sliding the emerald green dress up over your hips, pulling the zipper up you stepped in front of the mirror. Smoothing it down your hand ran over your waist, your hips and thighs. You smiled seeing how snug it fit, hugging you like a glove. After months of dieting and excersice you were reaping the rewards of your labor, and you had never felt better. You weren't as sluggish, your energy was better and you felt happier. You couldn't wait to show off your new figure to your beloved.

You heard the jet as you were slipping on your shoes and ran out the door. By passing the elevator you jumped the stairs, the same ones you'd been using to strengthen your legs. Your smile getting bigger the closer you got to the top. You shoved the door open as the jet landed, seeing the loading hatch dropping. You ran towards it as you saw Loki walking down the ramp, even from a distance he looked beat. "Loki!" You yelled, seeing his head whip around to you, his whole face lighting up as he threw his bag down holding out his arms with a smile.

You dove into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck as he grabbed your middle crushing you to him. "Gods love I missed you so much." He breathed into your hair squeezing tighter. "I missed you so much Loki." You whispered into his hair holding his head. You weren't sure how long you stayed like that, happy tears streaming down your face when you pulled back seeing tears filling his eyes. Cupping his cheeks you kissed him passionately, your tongues dancing together as he held on to you for dear life.

You pulled back panting, placing his hands on your waist "notice anything different?" You smiled as he looked you up and down. "You look positively gorgeous in my color" He smiled making you roll your eyes "is that really all you notice?" You asked as his hand roamed up your side. "Of course not love, how much did you lose?" He asked, his eyes roaming your figure. "I lost two sizes, and about thirty pounds." You beamed as his eyes met yours "I'm very proud of you darling, I know how hard you've been trying." He said wrapping an arm around your waist, picking up his bag walking inside.

"I've been eating better, not as much sugar which almost killed me." You said hearing him laugh. "And I feel so much better. I'm not so tired" You said looking up at him "Mm that means I'll have to try harded" He winked making you slap his chest. You made it to your room, you sat on the bed watching Loki drop his bag heading to the closet. "Loki, do you really think I look good?" You asked looking down at yourself.

Loki came out, throwing his clothes on the bed kneeling down in front of you "Darling, how you look doesn't matter to me, I love you for you. Your heart, your smile, your humor. Your are the most beautiful woman I have known, regardless of the size of your clothes." He said cupping your cheek "but I could not be more proud of the hard work, and dedication you put in to be healthier and happier. You are truly an amazing woman." He smiled up at you.

"Thank you Loki, I love you too." You said wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh, and wait until you see what's under the dress." You whispered in his ear. He pulled back looking at you "I hope you skipped your workout today, because you are going to have a very busy all night." He smirked "You go shower, I'll be waiting for you." You whispered against his lips, slowly running your tongue across his bottom lip before quickly pulling back. "You little minx." He smirked "I hope your ready for me." He winked heading into the bathroom.

You rushed to the door, hearing the water running you ran and lit the candles you had ready, turning of the lights you slid the zipper of your dress down, sliding it past your hips, tossing it onto the chair. Choosing to leave your heels on you adjusted your bra, laying on the bed you tried to pose in the most seductive way you could. You laid one leg flat, the other bent slightly at the knee, you propped your head on the pillows, one arm above your head the other on your stomach. Your heart racing hearing the water shut off.

You watched Loki walk out, a towel around his waist another drying his hair "Darling, are there issues with the lights?" He asked pulling the towel off his head, eyes widening seeing you on the bed "no, no issues here." You said, watching him throw the towel, coming to stand at the foot of the bed. He kneeled on the mattress, slowly crawling up to eye level with you. "You, my dear are in for a very long night." He whispered against your lips, running his finger up your stomach. "I'm counting on it." You whispered back smiling up at him.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10 @high-functioning-lokipath @buttercupbestie @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lonadane @mcufan72 @daggers-and-mischief @lily-sinclair-2006 @lokisninerealms @lokiprompts @limiworld @mochie85 @sinsandguilt @chickencouncilrep @lulubelle814 @midnights-ramblings @commanding-officer @xorpsbane @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokixryss @froggiecky @intoxicatinginsanity @huntress-artemiss @sekaishell @slpnbty2001 @your-taste-on-my-lips @usagishira @lokis-coffee221 @kats72 @lucylaufeyson3 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokiprompts21

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georgiapeach30513 · 3 years

Note

📩 reserving my spot for Blade day (if you allow it lol)

But I feel like it would be so so funny if Kitten pranked baby Blade like this. I mean of course Kitten won’t go too far because of Bladey’s panic attacks, but I’m 100% sure Ran would be cracking up seeing his son’s very very comfused-why-is-mama-not-gib-Badey-atemshon face 🤣

Yes! You can send any requests at any time. I do try to save them for their specific day, but if there isn’t any asks/requests/ideas of my own, I’ll add them to another day.

This is pitiful! Ransom would definitely have to be the one to convince Kitten to do this to her Bladey baby!

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Some Meanie

Summary: You and Ransom play a prank on Blade

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader, Blade and Story

Rating: pitiful

Warnings: Bladey tears, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1K

Desperate Lives AU Masterlist

Blade Drysdale Masterlist

“No,” you laugh watching the video of the pitiful little toddler cry. You push the phone away from you, still laughing.

“Please?”

“Ransom, no. My baby,” those dark blue eyes pout up at you, and he gives you another, please. “Why? My baby is gonna have a panic attack.”

“No, he won’t. And if it starts to be too much, you can just stop. Come on, woman, please? That’s why we have so many kids, we can just torture them,” you glare at him, and he changes his tone. “Sweetly torture them because we love them.”

“Fine,” you stand to circle around him, “I’ll do it, but it’ll cost you,” he bites his lip and tilts his head liking the way this sounds. “You gotta do something for me afterwards.”

“Okay, you name it.”

________________________________________________________________

“Blade, buddy, come on down for breakfast!” Ransom yells up at your baby boy, because you are supposed to be ignoring him. Story skips past Aster and Iris and into the kitchen, giving a quick little twirl in her poufy dress and tiara. Her play ballet shoes always on her feet.

You wait until Blade sees your face, and hate yourself when you spin without his good morning hugs and kisses. His lip juts out, but he doesn’t comment on it. Blade’s short little legs pull himself up on the table beside your seat, Ransom and Harlan on their respected ends. “Mom...mom, mommy can I, I have spwinkwes on my waffwes,” his body leans forward to see your face.

Ransom gives you a little kick knowing you’re about to fail. “Story, would you like sprinkles on your waffles?”

“And whipped cream?”

You nod your, and get up to get the whipped cream and sprinkles, only for Blade’s big eyes to follow you. “I wanted...wanted,wanted whipped cweam and spwinkwes, too. Mom...mommy, mommy? Can I?” everyone besides Ransom look oddly between each other. Story being the most confused. Her head flips between you and Blade. “Mom...Mommy, mommy, mom...mom...daddy can hew not see me? Mommy I’m wight...wight, wight hewe. Mommy Pwease,” his eyes fill with tears looking at Ransom.

“I want my...my, my, my, my, my...mommy I wuv you, pwease don’t go. I need you,” his voice carries off in broken nonsense and you come back with just as big of tears picking him up to hold your baby close to you. “Don’t weave me wike...wike, wike dat. I can’t...can’t, can’t bweathe wif...wif, wifout you.”

“Shh, mommy’s right here my handsome boy,” you lay his bespectacled face on your chest, “Listen to mommy’s breathing. In...and out,” your eyes glare over at Ransom, and he shakes his head no at you. “You owe me.”

“Did...did, did I, I, I, I, I...”

“Bladey baby, shh...mommy’s right here, just breathe, buddy.”

He sniffles trying to catch his breath. Pushing his glasses up on his head to wipe at his tears. “I’m sowwy...sowwy, sowwy. Whatevew I did...did, did I won’t do it no mowe. Just don’t...don’t, don’t weave me when you’we mad at me, pwease.”

“Mommy’s not mad at you buddy. Mommy just listened to some meanie.”

________________________________________________________________

Story dances around in her ballet leotard and tutu, her hair tight and on her head, ready for practice. Wearing her play ballet shoes on her feet as she twirls into Ransom’s office, “Daddy,” her voice sings to him as she twirls. “Oh daddy!”

You grab up her bag, knowing exactly where she’s at, and waiting on her goodbye kisses and hugs. “Daddy,” she stops twirling to stomp her foot, “Daddy!” Ransom walks past her to walk out in the hallway, pulling you into him for a passionate kiss. Removing Story’s bag off your shoulder, “Oh no. You two stop. I’m going to be late. Daddy. Daddy!”

“Where are you going with that bag?” his eyes only on you, instead of the little girl behind him stomping her feet.

“Ballet.”

“So, you’re going to put on a cute little tutu for me?”

You roll your eyes at him, at just how ridiculous this is. “Your daughter has a dance lesson.”

“Aster and Iris don’t take dance. They do gymnastics.”

“Your other daughter,” Story growls her foot stomping the floor again. “DADDY!!!! Don’t you play with my mind like mommy did Blade, you pay attention to me RIGHT NOW before I kick your ass.”

“Story Rose Drysdale,” he turns around to give her the best scowl he can for a five-year-old.

“That’s what I thought. We’re not playing that game. If you did me first I would have been crying like Bladey. You two are meanies. Since you don’t want to behave you get to take me dance class instead of mommy, because you hate it. Now get my bag and lets go. Do NOT ignore me again.”

“You’re bossy,” she turns around to stomp her foot.

“Carter would never treat me like this,” before walking out the door, held tilted up in defiance. Ransom’s head whips around so fast to gawk at you.

“What?”

“This is all your fault. She hasn’t shut up about Tweedle Dum since we got back from Florida. She was sleeping in his bed?”

“You kicked her out of the room. So you could fuck me while I slept.”

“I kicked her out of the room because she woke up too early. I fucked you because you needed it. You were all wet just thinking of me fucking you back to sleep.”

“Where was she supposed to go? Carter was sleeping on the pull out.”

His mouth opens up wide as he looks at you, “Do not mention that bonehead’s name, my daughter, and pull out in the same sentence.”

“You’re ridiculous. Take our daughter to dance.”

“Only if I get to see you tonight in a tutu. And nothing but a tutu,” with a quick swat to your ass he starts to walk outside. “Nothing else, Kitten.”

“He’s utterly ridiculous,” you turn at the sound of Harlan’s voice, “Do you even have a tutu? That’s a new one right.”

“Oh hush. That’s your grandson.”

Masterlist

#desperate lives #desperate lives au #desperate verse #DA AU #DA AU request #DAU #blade drysdale #kitten drysdale #kitten drysdale x blade drysdale #ransom drysdale #story drysdale #aster drysdale #iris drysdale #the drysdale's

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tarosin · 3 years

Text

the great adventures of y/n tubbo jack niki and wilbur - racing across the sea

requested: yes/no

part 8 of the great adventures series

warning: cursing, anxiety about the sea

ever since the argument you and tubbo had become inseparable, he practically lived with you and your parents at this point, and your community was loving it. everytime one of you would stream, tens of thousands of people would tune into your stream to see what madness was going on and today was no different. the pair of you decided to stream a laugh and the stream ends challenge. safe to say you ended up changing the rules several times, you even made ranboo join the stream so you could have extra lives. not long after the stream ended you, ranboo, and tubbo practically dominated the twitter trending page. today however was tubbos last day at yours and shortly after you ended stream, the pair of you headed out to the train station so you could make sure your best friend made it onto the train safely. after you said your goodbyes, you decided to facetime jack on your way home to discuss vlog ideas, and just to talk to him, as you had been rather busy this past week going over plans with ranboo, tubbo, and all of your parents about the uk trip that was happening pretty soon.

a few days later, it was finally time to go film the vlog. you couldn’t exactly lie, you weren’t exactly looking forward to this, as you were told it had something to do with the sea and boats which oddly enough didn’t mix very well with your fear of the deep sea. you had no idea what’s down there and you didn’t want to find out, but hey at least you’d be with tubbo.

your parents offered to drive you there so you didnt have any additional stress from having to get a train then a taxi, this allowed you to have a pretty quiet journey to meet up with your friends. you sat in the back of the car on facetime with tommy who was the only one who knew about your fear and was rather confused as the why you would agree to do such a thing

“i’ll never understand what goes through your mind, you’ve got this though! you’re going to be completely okay, plus you never know it might help you get over your fear, you did tell me you had been working on getting over it.”

“I suppose you’re right, it can’t be too bad. I mean I love the sea. I just don’t like what’s deep down, you feel me?”

“i understand mate, but you need to remember jack wouldn’t put you in danger. as much as he acts like he would, and even if you do fall off the boat or some how end up in the water, you won’t automatically end up at the bottom of the sea. just try to enjoy yourself, yeah?”

“...yeah”

“call me when you get home you can tell me all about what happened, afterwards we can record a minecraft mod video.”

“of course, boss man.”

“you hang out with tubbo too much, you should hang out with me a lot more.”

the car pulled into the car park and within a minute of the car stopping tubbo was at the window shouting your name.

“right tommy, i should probably go, ill see you later bud!”

you said goodbye to your parents as tubbo opened your car door for you.

“what a gentleman, thank you, tubbo.”

“anything for you, now let’s go. jack began filming the intro and i really want the hat hes wearing.”

“you’re ridiculous.”

he stood with his arms crossed shaking his head, pretending to be offended before walking off with you not far behind him.

you stood with niki and wilbur as tubbo went off filming some of the intro with jack. the three of you stood talking about how you have all been and discussing more plans for your meetup.

“y/n, go control your friend, he’s stealing a hat!”

you ran up behind tubbo and stole the hat from him, putting it on your own head.

“why have you got the hat now?”

“i am now captain!”

“but i wanted to be captain!”

you and tubbo stood arguing back and forth over who was captain, ignoring jack trying to get the pair of you to stop.

“you have 5 seconds to stop arguing or you’re being separated 5...4...3...2...1 right.”

“jack no!”

jack pulled you aside claiming he has something really important to ask you.

“so did you bring something valuable?”

“yeah i did actually, i brought tubbo and the necklace tommy gave me for my birthday last year.”

tubbo overhearing the conversation walked over telling you both that he also brought a valuable item, in fact it was a family heirloom.

“i brought an urn.”

“why would you do that tubbo? what the fuck-“

“you two do realise if either of you lose it had to go in the sea?”

“poor grandma.”

“aye about that you will have to pry that necklace out of my hands in order to throw it in the sea!”

the three of you went up to wilbur and niki where wilbur stole the hat you stole from tubbo, and you were told that you were all about to race to the isle of wight.

it was unfortunately time to board the boat, you sat next to tubbo, so that you felt like you had some sort of control with what was about to happen. the others sat making jokes about what was going on whilst you were trying to get control of your breathing. as you all set sail, you thought you were doing a good job of hiding the fact you were potentially about to have a panic attack as no one seemed to notice, or so you thought. considering the fact tubbo was your best friend, he instantly noticed something was wrong and wrapped an arm around you, and decided that distracting you would be a lot better than making you focus on what was currently happening.

“hey y/n, i have an amazing idea for when ranboos in the uk. a 4 month sleep over.”

“heh?”

before you had time to fully process what was going on, all you could hear was wilbur now claiming to be captain then going on to tell you why portsmouth is called portsmouth. you couldnt help but laugh at the random things he was coming up with since he put the captains hat on.

“that is a cinema..i’ve been in this industry for a while now, isn’t that right?”

it was silent for a while until niki tried to steal the captains hat, but was unfortunately unsuccessful .

“maybe next time niki.”

“thank you for believing in me, y/n.”

you pointed out a castle which ended up with wilbur talking about how the planned executions there .

“are they dead?”

“...tubbo of course they’re dead. what kind of question was that?”

the other boat began getting closer to the boat you were all currently in, indicating that it was almost time for you all to split up into two groups.

“my boat is going much faster.”

“that is a sign of pollution.”

“wow jack you’re polluting the world, i hope you’re happy!”

the ride was pretty chill until jack asked what he had lost in the past.

“past relationships.”

“the love or host.”

“laugh you lose streams.”

“the waterslide races from when we went to the water park.”

you and tubbo continued listening things that jack had lost.

“okay. so i’ve lost a few things.”

jack looked towards the other boat.

“however, you two are about to lose each other.”

“excuse you?”

“no, y/n is mine!”

eventually wilbur had enough and picked tubbo up and took him to the other boat with him.

“TUBBO!”

“Y/N!”

you and niki sat laughing as jack and wilbur bickered about who was going to win the boat race. whilst jack was distracted, you felt niki tap your arm and told you to look over to the other boat where tubbo was reaching his arm out to you so you could quickly swap boats.

you quickly got into the boat and sat next to your best friend, tubbo knew you were still slightly nervous, so made it so you would be sat in between him and wilbur so you would feel a lot more comfortable. a few minutes later, your boat began to set off and all you could hear was a mixture of tubbos laughter and jacks yelling getting quieter the further you went.

“AY THEY CANT START WITHOUT US!. AND THEY GOT Y/N, WHEN DID THEY GET THEM?!”

you turned to face wilbur who pointed towards a building before announcing that it definitely belonged to the the three of you, and was renaming it reddit gold.

“reddit..reddit gold, are you serious?” you said through your laughter, the three of you sat together taking turns narrating what was happening .

“go on, y/n.”

“if this capsizes, were all drowning.”

“cheerful as awful.”

“do you think sharks are beneath us?”

“i’m not even answering that question.”

you looked over your shoulder to see that niki and jack were catching up to you all.

“i hope they don’t overtake us, otherwise it’s bye bye tubbo.”

“and grandma.”

“excuse you, tubbo?”

“he’s claiming that he brought an urn with him and if we lose our valuable item gets chucked into the sea.”

a little while later jacks boat was next to yours and you and wilbur started to shout how it was like romeo and juliet.

“y/n, you studied this at gcse a while back, yell some quotes.”

“tubbo i didn’t listen to the teachers.”

“do it!”

“no!”

wilbur continued to talk to the others whilst you and tubbo sat bickering about William Shakespeare .

“tubbo my favourite character was benvolio and he fucked off halfway through.”

“what do you mean he fucked off?”

“he literally disappeared.”

wilbur was genuinely questioning what he was listening to he slowly turned around and tried to catch your attention; however you were currently in the middle of a debate about why benvolio disappeared, which was that last thing you expected to be doing on the boat. eventually your debate died down and you looked up to see wilbur shaking his head at you both, clearly confused as to why you spent 5 minutes arguing about romeo and juliet. an idea came to wilburs mind as he started laughing and pointing at the sea.

“drink some seawater, tubbo.”

you looked away as tubbo reached into the water trying to hold as much water as he could before bringing it to his lips and drinking the seawater.

“tubbo did you really just-“

“more tubbo!”

tubbo did the same as before, however this time brought his hands towards your face.

“drink it, y/n!”

“yeah, y/n, you can help desalinate it.”

“how wonderful, i’ll pass though.”

tubbo looked at you pretending to be upset and lifted his hands towards you again, this time you gave in and drank some of the water.

“thanks, tubbo, I can now only taste salt.”

jack noticed what you and tubbo were doing and looked at wilbur confused.

“im making them drink seawater!”

“what’s it like?”

“potassium!”

“salt.. a lot of salt!”

you checked your phone as you kept receiving multiple messages from tommy trying to get your attention, forgetting that you were currently on a boat with the others. you looked up from your phone to see tubbo drinking more seawater.

“AGAIN?”

you had no idea what was going on for jack and niki, but it sounded a lot like they lost hope as jack yelled asking if there was room for him on the boat while tubbo sat flipping him off in response to his question. jack continued to yell at the three of you however none of you could hear what he was yelling, so you kind of sat just nodding your head in agreement to what he was saying. wilbur pointed out that he could see the finishing line and how it looked like you were all going to make it. you looked over to see jack and niki recreating that one scene from titanic tubbo looked at you smiling, trying not to laugh.

“absolutely not one of us, if not both of us, would end up in the sea.”

the boat began to go significantly faster. at the start you were unsure how to feel, however a few minutes into it you began laughing enjoying how fast you were going.

“woahhh we’re turning!”

the boat did a loop before going straight on as fast as it could go.

“y/n, tubbo, we’re going. we’re going.”

“OH MY GOD!”

you ended up passing another boat you and tubbo instantly waved to everyone on the boat a few people waved back .

“they don’t wanna wave.”

“they know their boat is bigger than ours.”

“they could easily ram us and kill us all.”

“hopefully they decide against doing that.”

the boat began weaving resulting in you, tubbo, and wilbur constantly crashing into each other, not that any of you cared you were all having the time of your lives. you pointed at a boat which was cutting off the boat jack and niki were in .

“we’ve got this in the bag boys, victory is ours!”

your boat slowed down so it could dock.

“i think we’ve won!”

“we won”!

“holy shit we won! tubbo doesn’t have to go in the sea now!”

everyone got out of the boat so you could all wait for jack and niki to reach the dock, as the two of them approached you all tubbo began to sing.

“we are the champions my friend!”

“STOP IT!”

“i have to go into the fucking water!”

you pulled niki into a hug.

“jack you cruel man.”

“did you not have fun niki..we had a great time.”

you let go of niki and stood behind tubbo placing your head on his shoulder whilst jack explained to wilbur what was going to happen if they lost.

“oh, I thought we got to decide who was thrown into the water.”

“no no no no no no!”

“well i think considering we won..”

after a small discussion as a team, you all instantly agreed that jack should be thrown into the water, you all stood on the boat as niki argued that he cant throw her into the water. a couple seconds later wilbur walks towards jack handing him the camera before picking him up.

“are you ready?”

“i don’t think the bits that funny will, i don’t think the bits that funny!”

you all screamed and laughed as jack was thrown into the water. jack complained about the temperature of the sea as he climbed back onto the boat only to be pushed off again by you and tubbo.

“that’s revenge for trying to put us on separate boats!”

you spent the rest of the day together just hanging together as a group before you said your goodbyes.

the ride back home was you excitedly explaining what your boat ride was like to your parents, once you got home you ran upstairs to your room then called tommy on discord

“how was it then?”

“tommy it was so cool, honestly i wish you could have come with us.”

“i mean you’re coming with me george and wilbur to a water course next week, you don’t have a choice.”

“oh okay, it’s a good job i’d love to be there then, tom, also what mod are we playing just so i can check i have it ready.”

“rlcraft.”

the two of you spent a good hour talking before getting ready to film a video with charlie and jschlatt for tommys youtube channel.

taglist:

@l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @c1loudee

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 5

xWord Count: 3,374

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 5

I woke up to a heavy and warm wight around my waist. As my mind started registering the scene around me, I noticed the soft snores that were filling the room, the strong smell of cologne, the rough skin encircling me, the chest in front of me that raised and fell at a slow pace. At some point during the night, Derek must have crawled into bed, and I couldn’t say that I minded.

He looked peaceful when he slept. No supernatural problems, no feuds, no hunters, just peace. My hand unconsciously landed on his cheek, softly stroking his cheek. Still succumbed to slumber, he leaned into the touch, nuzzling his head onto my hand like a puppy. I wish this could be the way it always was, but now that I knew the reality of the world we were in, there was no chance it would ever stay this way.

Deciding to let him sleep longer, I tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen where breakfast had already been prepared. I looked around and noticed that their car keys were gone, which meant they had left early in the morning to do whatever it was that they always did. I greeted Brody who had trotted my way from the living room, and filled his dog bowl, adding a few tasty treats. While I served two plates, I put the coffee machine to run, ensuring the freshest pot for the morning. I looked around for a tray to take the breakfast upstairs in case my parents came back at any moment, eating my food as the coffee brewed. Placing some cream and sugars on the tray, I made my way back to the bedroom where Derek was starting to wake up, Brody following behind.

“Morning, sour wolf.” I softly pushed open the door, the tray in front of me. Derek was rubbing the night from his eyes, a soft smile playing on his lips. Upon seeing the man, Brody jumped on the bed greeting him with slobbery kissed. Derek laughed and petted his head as he laid at the foot of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawned. “Whatcha got there?”

“Some eggs, bacon, and hash browns. Also, some coffee.” He took the tray from my hands and set it on the bed. Taking one of the coffee cups, I sat over on my desk to work on the homework I had left pile during the week. Derek grabbed the plate and came to stand behind me, leaning down to rest his chin on my shoulder.”

“What are you doing?” He inquired, downing the food from the plate quickly.

“Homework. You know, the thing people my age have to do to be able to graduate from high school with good grades.” I looked to the side, my heart beating faster noticing the closeness of our faces. “I’m sure you wouldn’t know much about that.”

“I’ll have you know I was a good enough student.”

“Emphasis on good enough.” I booped his nose with my pen and continued my work. “When you’re done you should head home, don’t want my parents catching you here just in case.”

“Why? We’re not doing anything.” He sipped his coffee and sat down on the bed, Brody laying his head on his lap. I turned my chair and faced him, a laugh escaping my lips.

“I think you’re forgetting who you are and who my family is. Apart from that, I don’t think my dad will particularly enjoy the fact that a 21-year-old werewolf is in his teenage daughter’s bedroom, alone.” I grinned. “But suit yourself. I’d love to see how it will play out.”

“Alright, but can I at least take you out some time this week?” My heartbeat quickened, the sound loud enough for me to hear. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no,” I grinned.

“I kind of need an answer,” he pressed. A grin played on his lips by the point he had stood and rested his hands on the arms of the chair.

“How about, I’ll let you know?”

“I’ll take it,” he smiled. “I’ll text you.”

“Alright, I’ll be waiting.” He kissed my cheek and grabbed his jacket to head towards the door. “Where are you going?”

“Home?”

“Not through the door you’re not.” The dumbfounded look on his face was hilarious. “what would I do if my parents walked in.”

“I’m fast, you know. Like supernaturally fast.”

“Mm, I’ve seen you. Not fast enough.”

“Fine,” he surrendered. “Keep watch of your phone.”

“I will,” I smiled. He took a step back and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. Brody got alerted by the sudden move and jumped off the bed to bark at the window, standing on his hind legs to prop his eye out. I joined his side and saw Derek standing normally in my backyard as if he hadn’t just jumped out of a two-story window. He waved and I waved back as he became a blur, vanishing before my very eyes.

I slumped down on my bed and ran my hands over my face. What was I doing? There were so many things that were pit against us. My 18th birthday was still a little less than a year away, he had something going on with Erica, my family and he are natural-born enemies, we are currently under the terror of a reptilian shapeshifting Jackson, and that was just scratching the surface. I couldn’t scrutinize why he would ask me out too much, it was probably not even in a romantic way. It could just well be that he wanted to keep an eye on me since I was new to this whole werewolf, Kanima, hunter thing.

A couple of hours went by where I took Brody out for a walk, finished what was left of my homework, and started watching a movie when my phone went off.

“Hey, I heard the good news! You’re staying in town.”

“Hey, Allison. Yeah, it looks that way.”

“Well then, I believe you owe some people an apology.”

“What could you possibly mean?” I scoffed. But she was right, as hard as it was to admit.

“Don’t act dumb, (Y/N). You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t like it when you’re right,” I sighed. “What do you think I should do?”

“I could invite them over to your house and you could apologize to them. They never object to free pizza.”

I was glad. Instead of sulking on the 'he likes me, he likes me not' nonsense, I prepared the house for Allison and her friends, the people I hope to win over. One by one they arrived at my doorstep. Scott, Stiles, Lydia, and Allison. I had put out some snacks and the pizza I had bought. Scott and Stiles were not shy about their hunger as they dove in right away.

"So, what's the purpose of this meeting?" Lydia asked, her usual cocky attitude on full show.

"Uh, well, I wanted to apologize for being such a bitch these past few weeks."

"Hm, understatement of the century." Stiles chuckled with his mouth full.

"Actually, she can be 1,000 times worse. That was just level 1 bitchiness."

"Point taken. But why would you apologize? We get it you don't want to be our friend."

"That's not it, it's just... ugh... Look, it’s honestly a very long story, but moving around it’s hard to cut ties and start over for so long. After a while it’s easier to builds walls up and maintain everyone at arm’s length." They all stared at me. Hopefully I was getting through to them. "But this time I'm changing that. I want to be your friend and that's why I'm apologizing."

"Well, I don't know about the other guys, but I've always considered you my friend. I mean, I've considered Lydia my friend and she hates me."

"Oh, please, Stiles. I don't hate you, you're just, um.... special."

"I'll take it."

"We understand. And of course you're our friend, (Y/N). You were just too stubborn to notice." Scott smiled at me. "Now, is there more pizza?"

"How the hell did you two boys just finish two boxes of pizza?"

"We're growing?" Stiles said with his mouth full.

"Barely," Allison mumbled.

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"That's the point, Scott."

The whole room laughed and continued to enjoy a very pleasant afternoon. It felt weird to finally feel like I belonged somewhere; that there were people around me that cared for me despite my flaws. As I looked around the faces of the group that had welcomed me with open arms, I couldn’t help but feel that someone was missing; the person that had first accepted me.

The clock had hit 4 o’clock when the last piece of food was gone, and the gang had gone home. After cleaning up, I decided it was time to call Isaac. I didn’t like the person he had become after the bite. But I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. He felt confident, strong, but he was using the wrong outlet. Just like I was.

“So, you’re finally talking to me,” Isaac chuckled, a cocky tone to his voice.

“Only if you’re done being a douche.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever since you turned into a werewolf you’ve been nothing short of unbearable with your cocky behavior and holier-than-thou attitude.” I could hear him shifting on the other line, the news taking him aback. It seems Derek hadn’t told his pack that I knew everything.

“H-how… who told you?”

“Derek, your alpha. He told me everything the other day. I know all about werewolves, kanimas, hunters, pack, blah, blah, blah. But none of that excuses your behavior,’’ I sighed. “So, are you done being a dick?”

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “Can I see you?”

“Sure. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright!” He sounded excited. “I’ll text you the address.”

After hanging up I decided to take a quick shower before leaving. I threw on a white t-shirt and jeans and paired them with my leather jacket. As I tied my boots, I reached for the keys of my dad’s Chevrolet Suburban. Hopefully, I didn’t crash. In the car, I typed in the address Isaac had sent me. It was an industrial loft not too far from my own home. I honked my horn to notify Isaac I was there as well as sent a text.

“Are you stalking me now?”

I jumped at the sound of Derek’s voice and the knock he left on my window. . He appeared like a ghost and leaned on my door. “I could say the same about you. I’ve never been here before.”

“I live here,” he laughed, pointing at the building. “It’s my loft.”

“I’m here to pick up Isaac,” I said sheepishly. “So, he’s been staying with you. I thought you live in the woods.”

“It’s my family’s house and it’s under my ownership, but it’s not under livable conditions. And, yes, Isaac has been staying with me.”

“Hey, Derek.” Isaac finally emerged from the doors and jogged up to my car, patting Derek on the back. The man’s expression rapidly changed as soon as Isaac joined the conversation. The playful smile he wore had been replaced by a menacing scowl. “We’re going out for a while. I’ll see you later.”

We said goodbye and as I drove off, I stared at Derek. His body was tense, and his jaw was clenched. He was angry, but I didn’t know why. When we were alone, he was a completely different person than what he showed to others. There was this terrifying façade that was impenetrable by everyone else, yet he was a completely different person with me; he was an Alpha to the others, but he was just Derek to me.

I parked the car at a small burger joint Isaac directed me to. It wasn’t too full, so our food came out quickly. We sat at a table in the back, far from any prying ears.

“So, what did you mean about this cocky attitude?” He popped a french fry into his mouth, playing around with his food. “You seemed quite mad about it. Mad enough that you avoided me for some time.”

“Ever since you transformed you’ve been carrying yourself like you’re above everyone, you don’t even bother to be respectful of teachers or anyone for that matter. I miss the old Isaac.”

“You mean the pushover wimpy kid?” He scoffed. “I can’t say the same.”

“That’s not what I meant.” My hand reached out to his clenched fist and his hold softened. “You were nice and respectful, and knew how to treat others because you knew how it felt to be mistreated. Of course, you could have done with more confidence, but that’s not what this is. It’s almost as if you’re turning into Jackson, heaven forbid.”

His eyes softened and I knew I was getting through the wall he had built up.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). It's just… this is the first time in my life that I have felt powerful, like nothing and no one can touch me. I've dealt with so much shit that I thought I deserved to act like that," he sighed. "Can you ever forgive me?"

“You’re practically my best friend, how could I not?”

“Thanks.” He gave me a smile that I happily reciprocated. For the first time in a while, I was seeing the Isaac I had met some time ago. “So, what is it that you needed to speak to me so eagerly.”

“Remember how I mentioned that I would be moving at the end of the year so you shouldn’t get attached?” He nodded. “Well, it seems you’re gonna have to put up with me for a long time. Beacon Hills is now my home.”

“What?! That’s great!” He exclaimed a little too loud. Heads turned towards us and Isaac tried to hide his blush. “Does that mean we can truly be friends now? Not just study partners or casual conversation acquaintances?”

“Yes, Isaac. That’s exactly what that means,” I laughed. His face had lit up as the hard mask he wore finally broke apart. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you, what happened the night that I picked you up? It was such a weird night.”

His whole demeanor changed, clearly a sore subject to talk about. "If Derek told you what we are I presume he told you about everything else." I nodded. "The Kanima. It killed my father. We, um, had gotten into a fight and I ran out. It seems he went out looking for me but didn't get to me. I found him dead in his car, but I ran and called you."

" Isaac, why didn't you tell me? I mean, I know why you didn't tell me, but something; you should have told me something.” I looked into his eyes, worry evident in them. He had gone through such a traumatic event basically by himself. “Is that why the police were looking for you?"

He nodded. "They thought I had something to do with his murder because of something Jackson said. He was unfortunately my neighbor and had seen me running out of the house, but there were no tracks leading to me. I'm not a fugitive anymore." He smiled softly.

“I’m glad, Isaac, really. And I’m truly sorry for everything you’ve had to endure alone for all these years. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). At least that part of my life is over.”

“Now we just have to get that damn Kanima and get on with our lives.” We laughed.

Before we knew it, the sky outside had turned dark, signaling the arrival of the night. The car ride back was filled with mindless chitchat and soft background music. It had been a long few days and exhaustion was evident in both of us. Soon enough, the grey building had come into view.

“Do you want to come in for a bit?” Isaac leaned into the open window of the driver’s side.

“I think I’m just gonna head on home. I’m a bit tired and we have school tomorrow.” I smiled. “But, I’ll take you up on the offer someday.”

“Isaac, good to see you’re back,” Derek announced himself, his two betas following behind. “You’re late for training.”

“Sorry, Derek. Time slipped away.”

“Sorry won’t cut it.” His voice was commanding and a bit intimidating. I could see why everyone around me feared him. “Go with Erica and Boyd. Get started.”

'‘Bye, (Y/N). I’ll see you tomorrow.” I smiled and nodded, trying my best to comfort him.

“See you.” Derek stood back as we both watched the three figures disappear into the building. His chest moved, heaving, and he reeked of jealousy. “What’s your problem?”

“What?” Did he truly believe I was that oblivious? “I just…”

“You’re acting like a prissy child, Derek. You knew where Isaac was, who he was with, and that there was a possibility that he would come back late. There’s no need to grill him that hard.”

“He’s old enough to manage his time correctly, (Y/N). He needs to learn discipline. This has nothing to do with you.”

“Clearly, that’s not what’s happening here,’’ I laughed dryly. “Look, pardon the metaphor, but this whole alpha male act is gonna get very tiring, very quickly. If this is how you’re gonna be, don’t bother on scheduling that date this week.”

“Don’t be like that, (Y/N). I swear this has nothing to do with you. There are certain rules that we have to abide by, a different life. It’s complicated.”

“You’re not making any sense, Derek.”

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Yesterday we said no secrets, Derek. What changed in the hours that have passed?”

“Nothing’s changed. I’m sorry if I seemed too harsh on Isaac, but I have to be. They’re young and reckless, and it’s my job to make sure they stay safe. No matter the cost.” He ran his hands across his face as he let out a loud sigh. “Why don’t we just keep the supernatural and our personal lives apart.”

“We can try that for a while, but they’re bound to intersect at some point.”

“I know, but…”

“Let’s play it your way and see how it goes, okay? And lay off Isaac and the others? They are just kids.”

“I’ll try,” he smiled softly. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“If I remember.”

I backed the car up and sped back to my house. When I opened the garage, my father was sitting on the spot where the car usually went. I had forgotten to tell them I would be gone, and my phone’s battery had died a while back. I was in so much trouble.

“Good to know you’re alive, darling daughter.” The sarcasm spewed from my father’s mouth, and it stung.

“I’m so sorry. I went out with a friend and my phone died. And I know I forgot to say I was leaving the house, but I rarely do that, so please forgive me.”

“Calm down, (Y/N),” he laughed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay. You weren’t answering your phone, so we got worried. But remember, there’s a tracker on the car. We figured you were out. And I’m glad to hear you have a friend. It’s about time.”

“Thanks, dad.” He wrapped me in a hug and patted my head. If he knew who my friends were I’m sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “But, if you knew where I was, what was this whole scary setup? I for sure thought you were going to kill me.”

“Nothing like that, honey. But your mother and I have something we have to talk to you about.”

“What is it? You can’t take back that we are staying.”

“It’s not that, but it is serious. Let’s go, your mom is waiting in the kitchen.”

My heart was beating at a rapid pace, a million thoughts running through my head. Although, at the bottom of my heart I knew what this talk was going to be about.

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region

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starsarestars · 3 years

Note

❤️ for Winona or 🏡 for Wren (I cannot decide) pleeeeeeaseeee and thank you 🥰

I’m so self indulgent and annoying that I’m doing both at once:

Wren lives in an apartment above the coffee shop he helps his family run, meaning that the place is (more often than not) absolutely reeking of coffee, but there’s the odd twinge of sandalwood and turpentine. There’s plants all over the place and he should really move the ones that drape his bed because he keeps getting hit in the face every morning, but he hasn’t quite got around to it. Most of the time the place is in a state of controlled chaos - It’s cluttered, but he’s familiar with the mess, can navigate his way through it and he knows where everything is. Save for whatever Punk B-side or old 70s film soundtrack is playing, the only thing you can really hear in the flat is Wren humming along to whatever’s playing and the sound of Bubbles trotting through the flat while grumbling. Wren will not shut the fuck up about Criterion Collection films, David Lynch or Suspiria (but will conveniently forget his stint on Degrassi as an extra when he was 13 in which he got ran over by a bus and was permeated through flashbacks for a good five episodes.) His inclinations towards pretentiousness means that there’s shelves lined with all these really brooding and thought provoking films but he’s got a box dedicated for the self indulgent ridiculousness he’s not supposed to like which he will frequently pore through (who doesn’t love Bridget Jones?) Most of the time he’ll either be painting, pawing at his record collection or out for the count on the couch while cuddling up with Bubbles after a shift.

I’d be lying if I said things with Winona and Henrik start relatively easy or in the Villa itself. They instead start all the way in a Caravan Park in North Wales where a four year old Winona lives with her grandparents. By mere coincidence do Henrik’s family go to this park every summer as the cost of renting a caravan for the summer there is dirt cheap. Since she was raised by her Grandparents and wasn’t really around many kids, socialisation and making friends with people her age proved to be a struggle - the reach of her grandparents' influence extended to her not wanting to play games with the other kids in fear that her knees would give out and how she’d horrified Henrik the first time they’d ever met by saying that she’d soon be turning five “if the lord will let me live to see it.” When he asked her how old she was.

Winona was a gifted kid and had a lot of pressure to be this intelligent go-getter, she was expected to seek out independence as quickly as possible and although at first she really liked it and thought it made her more mature there wasn’t much room for her to be a kid and that made the time they’d spend together all the more important. It was the first time in her life she could actually be a kid and have fun and because of how easygoing he is, he draws out a silliness in her and she draws a more serious side out of him. Winona had a habit of abusing the fuck out of her provisional drivers license to drive all the way to the Isle of Wight to visit him and as Henrik would point out, there’s never been a birthday since they’ve met which they haven’t spent together. He’s a stalwart at every Visit to Winona’s family in Greece and if the mere possibility of him not being able to come arises, the absolute kick off from them is ridiculous like you’d honestly think someone died. Same applies for the Bergströms - Henrik’s Nana has been mastering her Princess Cake recipe and Winona will be damned if she isn’t getting a massive slice when she’s there.

The two of them have weathered a lot of stuff over the past few years - serious relationships, break ups, major stressors and career changes, pivotal moments and now they’re at that awkward stage where he’s a Climbing and Wilderness Survival instructor who drinks Seamoss for the flavour and she’s a beleaguered Primary school teacher whose side hustle is a podcast in which she talks about her extensive vibrator collection and how much she’d want to shag a pixie while her roommate looks on in horror. There’s a lot of yearning, pining and crushing which ultimately goes nowhere until Lily signs Winona up for love island and Winona sends Henrik this elaborate five paragraph text before she leaves (which is absolutely memed and copypasta’d post-show) which kicks off the plot of Primary. because now Henrik is wondering what the fuck his best friend is playing at going on something like Love Island when she’s already the countdown champion of 2016, just what he feels for her and how he’s going to tell her all this.

When the two of them actually get together it’s mostly awkward (the five paragraphs is a lot to take in - Did she really have to throw in a Gemma Collins quote?) and now they’re running around like headless chickens all “what the fuck do we do now? How the hell do we go from friendship to being romantic like obviously we want it but holy shit how do we go about it?” And they’re just panicking completely struggling to kiss and act romantic like normal people meanwhile everyone else is like “dear fucking god the intensity, the passion, the deep love they have for each other 😔🤚.” But because they’re so well acquainted with each other and their best (and worst) habits, the dynamic between them romantically is usually silly and they can poke fun at each other while knowing each other's boundaries and never going out of their way to push them. The love and care they have is immense and it’s especially so when they get together romantically - there was always signs of it when they were friends as the hugs would always linger and they’d get all smiley, but now they’re very affectionate and more often than not Henrik will drop off Winona’s lunch for her and they’ll always gush about each other to anyone who’ll listen. They’re very supportive of whatever they pursue and there’s no pressure to be anything or fulfill an idea of what they’re meant to be, it’s easygoing and there’s a familiarity to it that makes it so much easier and more intrinsic to them.

If that doesn’t seal it, the fact that Henrik is the only person in the world allowed to touch the Countdown teapot on the mantle probably does.

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fromtheboundlesssea · 3 years

Text

Love’s Not Always Wise Ch 54

Jon II

The image was still burned into Jon’s memory, the image of the dead rising. “He just raised his hands, Sam,” Jon whispered, feeling his body shudder as though the cold had sunk into his chest like a knife. “And they all stood up at once. Tens of thousands of them, the biggest army of the world.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Sam asked, looking to Jon as though he had all the answers.

“I’m going to hope they don’t learn how to climb the Wall.”

“But… the dragonglass?”

“We have it still,” he said. “Someone was smart enough to hold onto it for their lives as they made their way to the boats, but it won’t be enough to arm everyone. We need more. We need enough to arm everyone that can fight.”

“You killed a white walker without dragonglass.”

“I saw them shatter steel axes like they were glass. I had Longclaw, and Longclaw…”

“Is made of Valyrian steel. And most of them have been used to make that stupid chair, Seven Hells. That’s almost a thousand swords. A thousand arms men who could kill thousands of walkers.”

Jon ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what happened to my father’s sword. Your family has one, House Corbay has one, House Harlaw has one, but those are all the ones I know. Everyone else has lost their sword in time or thievery or it’s been melted into the Iron Throne. That’s not enough for anyone and the way to make Valyrian steel has been lost.”

“At least we won’t be giving the Others any more to add to their numbers,” Sam said.

“Yes, because I’m sure our brothers are pleased that I brought people who were once our enemy behind the Wall.” He looked to Sam and smirked. “How’s it feel to be friends with the most hated man in Castle Black?”

“Pretty sure that’s Harlon. He’s such a sourpuss. Besides, you were friends with me when I first got here and I wasn’t winning any popularity contests back then.”

“Here’s to us then, long may they sneer.” Jon was still smiling, but Sam was not. “What is it?”

“I… I want to ask you to send me, Gilly, and then baby to Oldtown so I can become a maester. I’m meant to be a healer, not…” he motioned to Jon’s sword and the one strapped to his own side. “This.”

“Sam, you know enough. I can’t have you leave. You’re needed here. Who else can give me advice I can trust?”

“Well, there’s Edd and Harlon.”

“Advice that isn’t pessimistic or given to me like an older brother trying to save my feelings.”

“I’ll be more use if I’m properly trained, especially now that Maester Aemon is gone. The Citadel has the world’s greatest library. Maybe there’s information about the Others there. Maybe there’s information about dragonglass or Valyrian steel.”

Jon knew his friend was right, but he still didn’t want Sam to leave.

Sam put his hand on Jon’s arm.

“If Gilly stays here then she’ll die,” he said earnestly. “And the baby that she named after me will die. And I’ll end up dying, too, trying to protect them. Which means that the last thing that I’ll see in this world will be the look in her eyes when I fail them.” He paused and Jon knew that even the thought of it was about to bring his friend to his knees. “I’d rather see a thousand White Walkers than see that.”

Jon takes a deep breath and nods.

Sam smiled. “Thank you.”

“You know that the Citadel will make you swear off women too,” Jon said after a small pause.

“They’ll bloody try,” Sam huffed.

Jon looked to Sam incredulously. “Sam?”

“What?” he asked almost oblivious.

“Sam…” His friend just smiled and Jon hit his shoulder. “You’ve been beaten half to death. How did you—“

“Very carefully,” he said with a wide smile.

Jon huffed out a laugh. “I’m glad the end of the world’s working out for someone.”

“I’ll come back, Jon. You know that right?”

He nodded. “Of course. Everyone knows we’ll be utterly lost without you Sam Tarly, slayer of wights.”

Sam smiled, but then it faltered. “Jon…”

“Hm?”

“After Maester Aemon died… I went through his things, making sure everything was settled. I… I’m sorry Jon. There was… there was a letter. It was from years ago. I don’t… I don’t know if she… Jon, it’s about your sister, Celia.”

Dread began to pool in Jon’s stomach. “What about my sister? What… she… she was killed during the Red Wedding.”

“No, Jon… She… Jon… you’re sister… I don’t know if we’ve heard anything recently but… your sister was alive… she might have been in Winterfell this entire time.”

It was like the world was ripped from underneath his feet.

Continue on Ao3

#jonsa #jonsa fic #celia snow #robb stark x oc #robb stark #my writing #celiaverse #love’s not always wise

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

So, took a bit longer to write this since I was moving back home now that the school year is done and as you probably saw if you follow me, I created the Shared Space au! I’m really proud of that too, so check it out! and send asks for it too!

anywho, tagging time! @petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Jrum stood facing Grifect, sword at the ready. He just needed to buy some time because there was something easy he could do. Instead of having an actual communicator, it had been built into his system at one update, so he didn’t need to get it out and type. Instead he could just send it mentally, though it could be a little odd at times.

But right now it was important. Jrum got a message ready and sent it to Mumbo, then to Grian. Telling them he was in danger and Tommy probably was too. But there was a problem, he didn’t get a message back from them, but an error.

“Sowwy, but I can’t wet uwu caww fow hewp! Thawt wouwd make my dad mad. If they gow aftew Tommy, they’ww see youw bwothew iws gone.”

Jrum jumped at Grifect, slashing his sword at the other bot. An arrow hit him as he ran forth, a second when he hit Grifect. Not wanting to get shot anymore, Jrum kicked the dispenser, pushing it out of Grifect’s reach. He attacked with his sword again, but a shield materialized on Grifect’s arm and deflected the attack. “That’s not fair!”

“Why wouwd I make iwt faiw? I wawnt tuwu win awnd hacking iws easy. You’d awweady be dead if I couwdn’t wisk wetting a message out thawt I was the owne who kiwwed uwu.” Grifter explained with a giggle, hacking in a new dispenser. “At the vewy weast kiwwing machines won’t duwu thawt, then I cawn pwetend iwt was juwst an accident whiwe you’we fine! But if aww my data iws wight, once you’we dead, you’ww be whisked away fwom thiws wowwd again!”

Jrum hesitated at that. He would? But he lost a life in the SMP and came out fine. But then again they had weird respawn rules, Tommy was proof of that. Jrum thought about trying to run, but then had an idea. If he would have an issue with respawning, Grifect would have to have the same issue!

Jrum pulled out a bow and fired it at Grifect before pulling out an axe. The helsbot put their shield up for the arrow, so Jrum was quickly able to chop it in half with his axe. Grifect’s eyes widened which let Jrum know something else, the other bot wasn’t good at combat or have a program for it. “You asked Xannes how to be a better hacker?” Jrum swiped his sword at the bot. “He’s a good hacker because he had to train all his skills. Xisuma is the best admin, so he needed to beat that. But he also needed to be good at everything!” The sword managed to tear into a weak part of Grifect’s body at a join. “You may be a hacker, but you have no clue how to actually use what you have! And that means I win!” And the sword sliced Grifect in half, the robotic body disappearing in smoke before it could reach the ground.

Jrum panted, having used a lot of energy for that. He wanted to close his combat program to conserve power, but he didn’t know if anyone else would show up. He wasn’t even sure where his hels version would respawn. But the fact that he needed to respawn at all was good news, so Jrum attempted to send another message and smiled as it went through. Now people would know what was going on.

Grian kept glancing at his comm, worried out of his mind while he wasn’t with either of the bots. He had just gotten them back and while they looked like they were getting better, he couldn’t help but imagine the worst. It also didn’t help that he was dealing with NPG, Xannes and Sense all in one room.

He couldn’t help but sigh in relief when he got some messages from the boys. Jrum was still having fun playing with his hels copy and Tommy seemed to be taking care of Grum. The best part was the message that Grum was cuddling with Tubbee, which was great to imagine. It was just a shame Tommy could send a picture without disturbing them.

“So are you guys close to being done arguing?” Grian spoke up, getting up from where he was sitting. “I’m getting a headache from it all and Mumbo’s not here to help.”

“You can always go for the next best thing.” Sense suggested, making Grian scrunch his face up in disgust.

“What would Grifter think?”

“As if he wouldn’t want some fun with a clone.”

Grian shuddered. “Why are you like this?”

“Because Grifter and I love each other, which is surprising that you can’t do that as the ‘good’ versions.” Sense replied, crossing his arms.

“Hey! Those two of course love each other, they’re just not gross about it.” NPG argued for Grian. “And Even Xannes is okay with his stuff.”

“Ye-Hey!” Xannes complained, but then was stopped as their comms buzzed. Everyone looked away, Grian going over to his own and reading two messages, watching as a third appeared.

Grifect was slain by Jrumbot

<Jrumbot> Something’s wrong with Grum and Tommy. Grifter’s been up to something and my copy’s been hacking.

Grian was slain by PerfectSense

Grian watched as his own death message appeared as he was blasted in the back by a death ray Sense had on him. When his eyes next opened, he was in bed and heard a scream in the distance. His comm was still in his hand since he was holding it when he died. There were three more death messages, one for Xannes, one for Tommy and one for NPG.

The one for Tommy was the most concerning with Jrum’s message, so Grian jumped out of bed and broke his window to go through, not wanting to go through the main hall and run into Sense again. A few shards of glass cut into his wings from the shoddy break and Grian’s recklessness, but he didn’t care, needing to get there fast. He flew as fast as he could to get to the old hobbit hole, glad it wasn’t too far away.

Grian’s eyes widened as he got into the place. It was a mess and Grum was standing in the middle of it, holding a sword and staring at Tommy’s bed. Tubbee flew near him and was stabbed by the sword, making Grian hold his breath before the bee popped out of its hive again. The avian was glad that Xisuma had set it up so that the bee could respawn since Tommy had been scared of something happening to it.

“Grum, put the sword down.” Grian said. He wanted to reach for a weapon, but realized he hadn’t grabbed any before rushing over there. He frowned as Grum didn’t move, instead killing Tubbee again. “Grum, put it down!”

Grum put the sword down, slowly laying it down on the ground. Grian started to take a step towards the bot, but they immediately turned around, pulling out a crossbow and shooting Grian with it. Grian yelled as the arrow struck him and he looked at Grum, now realising it wasn’t his son, but the hels version. “What did you do with Grum?! And it said you killed Tommy too. How? You left the world with Grifter and didn’t-”

Sefter moved so fast Grian barely comprehended it. Grian’s wing deflected the attack, though an axe chopping into it still hurt. At the very least it was weak as Sefter was just bringing the weapon out, but he was just after any damage. Another attack came down on Grian’s arm before the bot changed to another crossbow, shooting Grian point blank.

Grian attempted to attack back, even though he only had his fists and wings as weapons, but Sefter kept dodging them. Grian huffed, finally noticing the magic radiating off of the robot. A strong speed potion. There was no way he could land a hit on Sefter, especially without a weapon. But that was fine, because it finally made sense. Tommy wasn’t here, likely in the other half of the hobbit holes. Grum also wasn't around because someone messed with the messages and he had left the world, not Sefter. Because of that, there was no reason for him to be here.

When Sefter next attacked, Grian dodged, letting himself fall. He opened a portal just below himself, letting the magic envelop him before closing it again so the bot couldn’t follow. He felt like he was falling for a few moments before opening a second portal, taking him out of the Watcher’s world and into the SMP.

The first thing he heard was someone crying. It sounded familiar, but at the same time he couldn’t place it. A voice that spoke up definitely was recognizable though. “Hmm, not sure it worked. Why not hit him again harder this time?”

“Tech-” He got out before something slammed into his gut, winding him. “Wh-What the fuh?” He managed to wheeze out.

“I-I’m s-sorry. I d-didn’t… You s-said he was- wh-why are you laughing?”

“You’re a f-fucking bitch Techno.”

“Nice to see you too Tommy.”

Tommy groaned as he sat up, having trouble as he found Grum sitting on his lap, holding a book in his hands like he was ready to bludgeon Tommy with it. That was probably what hit him in the gut now that he thought about it. “What the fuck happened?”

“The kid got the revive book that Dream had and used it to fix you. Did the same for Wilbur.”

Tommy sat up just a little bit straighter. “Wait, Wil’s alive? You’re serious?””

Techno gestured to Grum. “Yeah, apparently this one half revived him while we were all gone.”

“This one? His name’s Grum.” Tommy said, crossing his arms.

Techno crossed his arms back. “Does it matter?”

“He’s our fucking nephew!” Tommy complained, making Techno huff.

“And? So far all of my ‘nephews’ have tried killing me.”

“B-because you did it first.” Grum piped up. “I tried to be d-diplomatic with y-you and-”

“Yeah, well I hate government.” Techno cut Grum off.

“Yeah. I know. It was sort of my job to account for people like you. But it’s fine! One uncle is enough!”

Tommy chuckled. “Hey, maybe you’ll like Wil as an uncle too. Then you’ll have two.”

Grum turned to look at Tommy again. “I was already accounting for him in my count as I already had encounters with him here before. That is the one I was referring to.”

“Wh- Hey! Why am I being excluded?!” Tommy shouted while Techno smiled slightly.

Grum recoiled slightly, which made Tommy back off a bit. “You… you said I could call you something else. Just because you’re actually my uncle… you’re sort of not.”

It took Tommy a bit to realize what Grum meant. He supposed it was true, a week ago, they hadn’t known they were actually related to each other. “Well, alright, if you’ve only got one uncle, I’ve only got four brothers! Take that Techno!”

The hybrid just rolled his eyes while Grum tackled Tommy with a hug. Tommy patted the bot, rolling his own eyes, though it was more sarcastically. “So kid, why not start with Tommy?”

There was a moment of confusion from Tommy before Grum suddenly stiffened, letting Tommy know that whatever was being talked about wasn’t the greatest thing. “What are you talking about?”

“Something got brought up before we came here. I figure since you two seem close, he should be telling you, especially if I’ve already been told.”

Tommy leaned back to look at Grum. They didn’t look scared as much as they were nervous. “Hey big man, what is it? If it’s something that happened because of Dream, I won’t be mad. I mean, you kinda killed me and I’m fine.”

Grum fidgeted a bit, still looking nervous, but then he answered. “Um, I think I have something called chat? At least that’s what Techno called it.”

Tommy was taken aback and looked at the piglin. “Yeah, well, chat’s just what I call it. They’re basically just voices.”

“Right… sorry.” Grum apologized.

Tommy looked between the two of them again. “Wait, so you’ve got your own form of chat? They’re not telling you to be as bloodthirsty as Techno, right?” Tommy asked, and Grum quickly shook his head. “Then yeah, it’s fine. Besides, even if I didn’t like it, your dads do so-”

“They don’t.” Grum cut Tommy off. “You’re… I’ve only told two people and you’re the second. I thought it was bad.”

“No, you’re fine. It runs in the family.” Tommy assured the bot. “Plus, they don’t sound too bad, so it’s fine.”

Grum fidgeted some more. “Well… Dream isn’t the nicest-”

“Wait, you hear Dream in there?!” Tommy couldn’t help but stand up in shock, causing Grum to fall off the bed. “Uh, sorry Grum. I just- Dream?! Really?!”

Grum rubbed his head. “Yes and no? He’s not like the one that was admin here, at least mostly. And they’ve kinda been around before I even knew you.”

Tommy didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t want to make Grum even more upset. “I guess that’s okay. Who else do you remember the names of?”

“Um, all of them. There aren’t many. There’s Dream of course, but also Eyes, Gor-”

Tommy didn’t need Grum to continue. “I found your book. You hid it in your charger. Their names were in there. I mean, I don’t know how you got PM in your chat, but it sounds cool.”

“You found my book?” Grum asked, tilting his head. “And it was in my charger? Who put it there?”

“Uh, I thought it was you. I mean, you sent me a message to go there, though you used Eye’s name.”

Grum shook his head. “Then I didn’t do that. Eyes did.”

“What do you mean Eyes did?” Techno asked. “How can your voices do stuff like that?”

Grum looked even more confused now. “But… Is that not supposed to happen? Eyes and Console have both been doing that.” And then Grum’s confusion turned to panic. “I thought you said it was okay?”

“Shit.” Tommy cursed, sitting back down to pull Grum into a hug. “Yeah yeah, it’s okay. Just different. Fuck we need Mumbo and Grian.”

It was perfect timing, as just as Tommy said that, Techno’s communicator buzzed. The hybrid took it out and read the message before showing it to the teen.

Grian joined the world.

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #jrumbot #hels!jrumbot #grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #avian!Grian #evil xisuma #npg #npc grian #hels!Mumbo #hels!Grumbot #tommyinnit #technoblade #grumbot

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

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Dany inmunity to fire has created in fandom this thinking that Targs are fire proof to it. I find it infuriating because Jon, Aegon II or Rhaenys the queen that Never was got burned badly. Even Dany burns in ADWD and George has plainly stated that what happened in AGOT was a once in a lifetime event.

I hate when show invented things crawl into the actual canon from books.

Hi there!

Yes, the Show definitely turned the fire-proof thing into a superpower. The books are more ambiguous.

This is how she is exposed to the fire:

With a hisssssss, he spat black fire down at her. Dany darted underneath the flames, swinging the whip and shouting, "No, no, no. Get DOWN!" (ADWD, Daenerys IX)

This suggests she should be roasted. The flames definitely touched her enough to leave her entirely bald, yet her scalp is fine and the hair is beginning to grow back. There’s obviously some immunity there.

The fire burned away my hair, but elsewise it did not touch me. It had been the same in Daznak's Pit. That much she could recall, though much of what followed was a haze. (…)

She ran a hand across her stubbly scalp where her hair had burned away, and felt more ants on her head, and one crawling down the back of her neck. (ADWD, Daenerys X)

But at the same time her hands are injured this time:

The rocks had scraped her hands raw. They are better than they were, though, she decided as she picked at a broken blister. Her skin was pink and tender, and a pale milky fluid was leaking from her cracked palms, but her burns were healing. (…)

Dany, starved, slid off his back and ate with him, ripping chunks of smoking meat from the dead horse with bare, burned hands. (ADWD, Daenerys X)

Obviously, there’s a contradictory mixed vulnerability.

In the pyre, there were no burns at all:

She was naked, covered with soot, her clothes turned to ash, her beautiful hair all crisped away … yet she was unhurt. (AGOT, Daenerys X)

This has me wondering what the deciding factor is.

The hand burns mirror Jon’s. The injury is pretty serious. Much more so than Dany’s since she makes no mention of agony:

He had burned himself more badly than he knew throwing the flaming drapes, and his right hand was swathed in silk halfway to the elbow. At the time he'd felt nothing; the agony had come after. His cracked red skin oozed fluid, and fearsome blood blisters rose between his fingers, big as roaches. "The maester says I'll have scars, but otherwise the hand should be as good as it was before." (…)

Maester Aemon had given him milk of the poppy, yet even so, the pain had been hideous. At first it had felt as if his hand were still aflame, burning day and night. Only plunging it into basins of snow and shaved ice gave any relief at all. Jon thanked the gods that no one but Ghost saw him writhing on his bed, whimpering from the pain. (AGOT, Jon VIII)

And, of course, Jon flexing this scarred hand becomes a continuous image for the rest of the novel series. To Dany, though the healing process looks similar, the pain barely seems worth mentioning. Curious.

Both injure their hands confronting one of the big book title threats.

Dany identifies with the fire (”He is fire made flesh and so am I”) and only approaches Drogon to remove the spear that injured him.

Jon fights the wight (”dead Othor”), desperately, and it is Ghost that saves Jon, who then uses fire to destroy the wight. He later finds relief with ice but he identifies with neither, if anything it is the scar that defines him afterwards. And the wolf.

But the whole passage of him fighting the wight makes me wonder if fire will play a role in his “resurrection”. Ghost saves Jon from the dead man’s choking grip, he calls for him by name before he throws the flaming cloth, which is his last word in ADWD. The fire saves and harms Jon.

Since I don’t think GRRM will make Jon literally resurrected, I think he might pull a Denethor burns Faramir’s living body move. Jon might be in a Bran-like comatose state, kept alive by wolf magic like Bran, warging in Ghost, but his body is vulnerable while he fights his way back to life. I’ve only seen the LOTR movies, but it’s Peregrin ”Pippin” Took who saves him, right?

Peregrines appear thrice in the books, once in ASOS, Sansa II, as a hunting bird taking down a heron in a charred landscape, and twice as the name of the ship that takes Arianne from Ghost Hill (!) to the Weeping Town, where “the corpse of the Young Dragon lingered for three days”, in her TWOW sample chapters. While she contemplates her “distant brother” and talks to the bastard with whom she has “a history”. Um. Burned Quentyn got the line “the Dornish prince was three days dying”, from burns.

I mean, GRRM did name that warg guy who goes on about death and dying Varamyr. After the unloved second son.

Who will save Jon? Pip? Grenn? (Pippin-Peregrin) Some of his other friends arriving for the funeral? Something else? Will Jon be badly injured in the fire? Is that a potential source of his speculated lost eye? Will he pull a Dany and sit there hairless and naked and grim? What will be the thing that wakes him, like with Bran?

This is a fun theory, if I may say so.

#asoiaf #asoiaf speculation #jons now #burning #resurrection theory #Ghost the direwolf #Tolkien references #anti daenerys targaryen #fire threat #ice threat

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miioouu · 4 years

Note

Headcanons (for Deku, Bakugou and Kirishima) where theyre pretty close to their crush who started noticeably hiding a secret, suddenly hanging out with someone else. Turns out they wanted to learn a new skill to impress them. Something small but doable (like learning the ukulele or some other thing)

We want to impress the bois👏👏 Thank you for requesting!! ❤️💜❤️

Midoriya Izuku 💚

- You two were close friends since the beginning of the year.

- You were best friends, never hiding anything from the other, even your most embarrassing stories!

- But lately, you began to feel something for the green haired boy.

- Your heart seemed to beat faster around him, you'd often get jealous, something you never felt before for him, whenever he'd pay more attention to someone else other than you.

- Secretly, he was feeling the same, but he thought he'd never get a chance with you, so he buried his feelings deep inside, ignoring them.

- But you weren't like him, you wanted to impress him.

- Knowing him for as long as you had, you realized Deku's amazing drawing skills! So you decided, that maybe if you got better at this creative hobby, it would earn his attention.

- So now you started hanging out with one of you artist friends from the Support Department, thus making deku feel a bit left out.

- And everytime he'd ask you about it, you just ignore him changing the subject, or straight out lie.

- Even though he was pretty hurt that you were keeping something from him, he never pushed you to tell him, knowing it was something you wanted to keep private and he respected that.

- One day, after having ignoring him a whole week, you ran up to him, giving him a hug.

- He was surprised, what has gotten into you y/n? One day you never talk to him, the other you show him so much attentin.

-"Dekuuu, I know I've been treating you badly lately, but it's for a good reason! I swear!"

- You'd reach into you backpack, pulling out a piece of paper. After asking him multiple times if he was prepared to see what you've been so busy doing and teasing him about it, you finally gave him the paper.

- Smile stretching on his face, eyes lit up and red cheeks, hw couldn't believe what was before him. It was a magnificent painting of the both you.

- After you've explained to him that you've been working on it with the help of your friend, everything clicked, why you were always so tired, why you'd ignored him so often.

-"I just wanted to impress you Deku!"

-And you did, he now has the painting framed in his bedroom, always looking at it when he felt down. One day, soon, his bedroom would be filled with pictures and paintings from you. But first he needs to confess.

Bakugou Katsuki 🧡

-Were you two friends? No? Best friends? Meh, that's closer. You two were best friends for ever and ever and ever and....

-Well that's what you told people. It wasn't a lie, but maybe you were exaggerating a bit.

- And maybe, everytime you'd mention it, it would truly pull at our angry boy's heart.

- Was he being friendzoned? Why does he care anyway, you were just a random person, nothing special about you.

- Well, except your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your sweet voice....

-Fine ok, you are special and he is in love with you! But he will never, ever admit it.

-But you didn't know that, and you really didn't know that Bakugou was that simple of a man.

-Thinking you needed to impress him to catch his heart, you always spent days daydreaming about how you'll do it.

- Finally in class, while everyone was talking about some concert or something. It hit you!

-Bakugo was really into music. Everyday he'd come to class with his earphones on, and when he's in a good mood he'd quietly hum his favorite song. (ok but emo music was so junior high bakugo, now he's into jazz, disco, electro type of music I will NOT accept any criticism thank you)

-So maybe a way to get his attention, was to impress him with something he is passionate about, music!

- So why not ask Pikapika to help you learn the guitar? Nothing bad can happen, right?

-Oh but were you so wrong, so so wrong.

-Learning a new instrument took way too much of your time, and wanting to be decent at it, you'd practice extra time, which meant spending more time with Kaminari.

-Now you saw nothing wrong with that, enjoying his company, and the way he hypes you up to make the explosive boy head over heels for you.

-But Bakugou did. What are you always doing with Denki? And why aren't you telling him? Were you keeping secrets from him? HOW DARE YOU?

-Well he let it slide, but not without shading you every once in a while. But he had enough of your little secret when he saw you walking out of Kaminari's room late one night.

-He wanted to kill him, murder him with his own two hands. And you? Why didn't you tell him damn it?!

- He returned to his room for he wanted to be alone with his thoughts after being betrayed by his owns friends.

-But he didn't get the chance as you came barging into his bedroom.

-"Katsukiiiii wanna hear what i learned on the guitar? Of course you do silly why am i even asking?!"

- You didn't even give him time to yell at you for coming to his room that late, to kick you out and tell you to go back to your secret boyfriend, as you excitedly began playing his favorite song.

-It wasn't perfect, but he couldn't help but find it so cute when your brows frowned in concentration, and thr way your little tongue sticked out on a particularly hard note.

- As you finnished, you looked up to him, trying to detect a reaction from him. As much as he wanted to praise you, he couldn't get pass the fact that there's something between you and Kaminari.

- When you asked him about it, and he shouted at you that he couldn't believe that you kept your relationship a secret from him, you put the guitar down, and explained to him that no, you're not in a relationship with electric boy, and you were just learning guitar from him so you can catch his attention, he never felt so stupid.

-"You don't need to learn any new skill to make me fall for you y/n. I already have..."

Kirishima Eijiro ❤️

- Kirishima was everyone's friends, but it took someone special to be his best friend.

- And luckly for you, you had that unique something that made you, not only his best friend, but the redhead slowly starting to develop feelings for you.

-He found you perfect, but he was still too insecure to actually tell you that.

- On the other hand, you were also head over heels for the boy, but how could you not?

- His angelic laugh, his sweet smile and his soft eyes everytime you looked at each didn't help with trying to get rid of those feelings.

- After the realization of being in love with your best friend finally came slow and clear, you decided to act up on your crush.

- You had no idea how Kirishima felt about you, you were just his friend nothing more.

- But you wanted to impress him, maybe he'll start seeing you in diffrent way.

- What's something that could impress him though?

- Manly stuff, manly stuff, manly stuff... What does even mean Kiri?!

-How were you to catch his attention if you didn't know "manly" activities.

- It was untill the both of you were training that you figured it out! He'd be so so shocked if he see you wight lifting.

- But ugh what a paiiin, it was really difficult and you don't think you're able to do that without someone yelling your head off to keep going.

- Oh well that's easy to find, smirking, you approached Bakugo whonwas looking at you suspiciously.

- You explained to him how important it is for him to help you, and you may or may not have accused him and blamed him "you don't want to see me happy? You want me to die alone I knew it!"

- Oh my god you're so dramatic, he had enough with your cries so he finally gave in and accepted to help you.

- But with that, it meant spending less time with Ei, which confused him.

-Are you mad at him? Did you decide that he wasn't good enough to be your friend? Have you realized how much of a loser he is and his friend is much better?

- You did see how down Kirishima looked lately, thus deciding to train harder and finally show him your impressive new skill.

- But it actually made things worse, he's been seeing you with Katsuki almost everyday, ditching him to go to the gym with the blond instead him.... Are you... Are you in love with Bakugou?

-How did that happen? And why was Katsuki betraying him? Should he let it slide or have a talk with you?

- The day he decided to face you, you planed to show him, insisting that he'd come to the gym with you.

-"Look what Baku has been teaching me!"

- You'd pick up one of the heaviest weight, eyes never leaving his form to see his reaction.

-To say he was impressed was ana understatement.

-"So that's what you were doing with Katsuki? I thought.... I thought you were ditching me for him..."

-His words stung, is this what you made him feel like? Is this why he was so sad recently?

- After reassuring him, that you would never, ever ditch him for anyone and that you were doing all of this to surprise him and maybe see you as more than a friend. He couldn't believe his ears, running up to you giving you the biggest hug.

-"y/n you know how much i like you! You didn't have to try!"

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admin-in-residence · 4 years

Text

Show and Tell

One more fic based on Padawan Skip from @clonesandmoans this is technically a sequel to my first fic Order 66.

Skip is roughly 15-16 years old in this one. Flashbacks to 12-13 year old Skip.

Length: 2,333 Words

Skip dragged her feet along the dirt path, wincing at every step. Strange creatures called out in the night, and her path was illuminated only by the light of the twin moon’s hung high in the sky.

She nearly missed her turn, which wouldn’t be the first time since they’ve landed upon this planet, hiding their ship in layers of vines, mud, and brush. Thankfully their was one corner, high up on the space craft that she hadn’t been able to reach and the metal shined under the moonlight.

She gave her signature knock, three sharp raps followed by 2 slower knocks, and was relieved as the ramp instantly lowered.

Entering inside, she slammed her hand back on the door panel, the ramp closing behind them. The lights were set on dim, any higher and they risk shining through their camouflage.

“Thank’s for waiting up for me.” She said softly, catching Echo’s tired gaze.

The Clone in mention sat in the Captain’s chair, a mug of steaming tea in hand. Skip couldn’t help herself as she ran a hand through the fuzzy hair that had begun to grow in once again, carefully minding the cybernetic’s implant’s.

“Stop that.” Echo groaned.

“Can’t help it.” Skip teased, sticking out her tongue before stealing the tea from his grasp. She took a sip from it before passing it back to Echo.

“How was your shift?” Echo asked.

Skip groaned in response, sinking into the seats of the co-pilot’s chair.

It had been a rough year...and it felt so much longer.

After escaping Naboo upon their stolen spacecraft, they had hopped from planet to planet exchanging ship’s for other ones, trying to create a untraceable trail. She had begun to lose track of the names of all the planets she had been to, and remembered a time in her life when she used to track them all excitedly, wanting to see everything...the chart that Tech-

She winced involuntarily.

“You know. I could be out there helping, I’m sure there’s someone who would be willing to hire me.” Echo said.

Money was one of their biggest troubles, there never seemed to be enough of it. Skip was thankful she had managed to find a diner upon this planet and had been waitressing in order to pay for their rations. The owner was harsh and demanding, and the shifts were long and grueling, not to mention the far walk from the hideout to town and then back.

Most days, she would leave before the sun rose and make it back when the moon was high like tonight.

Echo wanted so badly to help, but with the Imperial presence beginning to rise, more and more people were beginning to memorize the identical Clone faces, and Echo would fit the bill...no doubt if he was seen the Batch would be on their tail again.

“It’s alright. It’s best if your here, taking care of the ship. Just a couple more week’s and I’ll have enough credit’s saved up...we’ll be able to stock up on some food and move on.” Skip said.

“Your wearing yourself down Skip.” Echo said, “I’m just worried about you. You and me...that’s all I’ve got left.”

Skip hummed in response, her eyes shutting by the invisible wights pulling them down. She needed some sleep...sleep that wasn’t just a few hours between shifts.

“Hey, I had to go through the chest today...” Echo said.

Skip squinted as she looked to her companion.

“For?”

“My old armor...I needed some wires from my communicator cuff. I was careful, and I was able to fix the comm system on the ship.” Echo stated proudly. “But...I found something...”

Skip sat up eyes narrowed.

“It slipped out of your old belt pouch...I don’t know if you wanted it, or if you want me to stick it back in the chest.” Echo said.

The chest, in reference was a small storage crate that had been carried from ship to ship since they had first started stealing and trading ships, it was full of their old lives, Echo’s armor, Skip’s lightsaber was buried somewhere inside, and they tried to avoid it all costs...they just didn’t have the heart to leave it behind.

Echo reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small wooden figure.

Skip gasped as she reached out to take it in her hands.

The figure was small, light and whittled oh so carefully in the shape of a Tooka cat.

“I didn’t even know I had it on me that day.” Skip whispered.

“Hunter made it right? I wasn’t with you guys very long, but I know he liked to work on things like that.”

Skip smiled.

“He made one for each member of the Batch...I remember the day he gave this to me...”

“I’m sorry Padawan, but I can’t make it...” Her master trailed off, “You should know how much this mission means to the Republic.”

Skip forced a smile on her face, “Of course Master. I wish you luck.”

The transmission cut off after that, and Skip sank down, wrapping her arms around her knees.

As part of her Padawan Classes, the Padawans had been given a task to find something to bring in that showcased what they had learned since they had first started their trainings. Most Padawans brought their own Masters, who better to showcase then the person that taught them so much in the first place?

But now, Skip didn’t have anything.

“What’s the long face for kid?”

Skip looked up, hoping she didn’t look as upset as she currently felt. Sergeant Hunter, the leader of their Clone Force eyed her warily.

“Tomorrow’s my showcasing day.” Skip sighed standing up before Hunter. “But now my Master can’t make it...I don’t have anything else.”

“What’s the showcasing for?” Hunter asked curiously.

“It’s to show what we’ve learned so far, things that have taught us lessons...that have inspired us.” Skip answered.

Now how could she choose? What should she bring...she had learned so much...her master’s teachings, lightsaber duels, sniper training with Crosshair, decoding with Tech, demolition from Wrecker, knife training and hand to hand combat from-

“Hunter!” Skip exclaimed. “My batch!”

Hunter eyed her warily as she looked at him excitedly.

“You guys can come instead!”

“Come where?” Wrecker asked as the rest of the Batch walked in.

“To the Jedi Temple! Tomorrow!” Skip said.

“Now hang on-” Hunter held a hand out.

“Why would we go to the Temple?” Crosshair frowned.

“Think of all the things I could analyze.” Tech said in wonder.

“Do you have any animals there?” Wrecker asked.

“Hold on!” Hunter frowned, “Skip...we can’t just go with you to the temple.”

Skip frowned before resting her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed, eyebrow cocked.

“Now you’ve done it.” Crosshair muttered.

“Skip-don’t...” Hunter groaned.

“We’ll if you can’t just go. Perhap’s you’ll need some orders to do so.” Skip said.

“Can she do that?” Wrecker questioned.

“Do you want to question me on it?” Skip retorted.

“Don’t question her on it.” Tech said, “She can-”

“And will!”

“-And will do that.” Tech finished.

The rest of the batch looked between Skip and Hunter, both who were staring each other down, arms crossed.

Hunter finally sighed, nodding his head.

“So we’re doing this?” Crosshair groaned.

“We’re doing this.”

Standing in front of her peer’s after their own presentations felt a lot more intimidating then it probably should.

Curious Jedi Master’s stood behind their padawans as Skip took the center of the room, the Batch standing behind her.

“Padawan, share with us what you have come to learn from...” The temple teacher trailed off unsure of how to address the clones.

Eyeing her batch she saw how uncomfortable they seemed standing behind her.

Looking around the room, she saw her peer’s eye the clone’s distastefully.

“These are my brothers.” Skip spoke, her voice unwavering as she stood up straighter, shoulders back.

She could feel the Batch’s eye’s snap to the back of her head...she wished she could see the looks on their faces.

“Some of you wouldn’t understand, because most of you aren’t on the front-lines. But these guys always have my back, no matter the situation.” Skip said.

“But it’s more then just that...because any clone will have your backs. These guys do more...they teach me how to protect my own back because sometimes there not always there. Hunter’s taught me all different kinds of forms. They help me handle my lightsaber better...” Skip moved next to Hunter.

“He’s showed me all kind’s of different tricks to disarm enemy’s, along with close contact fighting.” Skip moved to Tech next.

“If you ever need to override a security terminal, or need to hack into some separatist information outposts. this is your guy.” Skip said proudly.

“But that’s not even the best part! Tech know’s all different kind’s of languages, traditions, religions and he can spout all sort of facts about them!” Skip looped behind coming around to Crosshair.

“Crosshair is the best sniper out there! He’s taught me all about vantage points, where the best locations are to scout against the seppies, and he’s great at spotting extra details. He’s always there to correct my forms...although he doesn’t always make it easy on me.” Skip bounced over to Wrecker who looked excitedly down at her.

“Of course, I can’t forget about Wrecker. If his name doesn’t give it away, he’s good at demolition. But he’s also super strong!”

Proving her statement, Wrecker lifted Skip up onto his shoulder.

“But beyond that, Wreckers the best person to talk to....if meditation isn’t working, talking things out with Wrecker always help...and he’s a good listener.” Skip said.

The fellow padawans had changed their views and know seemed overjoyed at seeing the clones, they fidgeted and some looked to their master’s wanting to ask questions about her batch.

The temple teacher however, frowned.

“Padawan...perhaps you’ve mistaken my assignment. I requested you show what you have learned as a padawan. A member of the Jedi order. Not what you have learned in the war.” The temple teacher stated.

Skip frowned, Wrecker gently setting her back down.

The room was quiet, eerily quiet as the other padawans watched the standoff between teacher and student.

Then Skip looked up.

Hunter watched as she stood straight once more, shoulders back, eye’s narrowed, eyebrow cocked.

“Oh no...” Tech whispered.

Oh yes. Hunter thought.

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear Teacher. You assigned me to tell and show you something I have learned since I’ve become a padawan. Originally I was going to bring my Master, and he was going to demonstrate one of his lightsaber forms...but thinking about it now, I realize that this wouldn’t have shown what I learned. No.” Skip began.

“It is my batch, my brothers that I have learned from. Every time Hunter teaches me a form, I know that he has put every thought into how it will help me with my saber skill’s for battle, for defense. When Tech teaches me languages, tradition, culture, he is teaching me to accept everything of other beings of our galaxy. When Crosshair is teaching me vantage points, he’s not just showing me battle strategies, he’s making sure I understand that the slightest detail can change an entire outcome. And Wrecker teaches me that no matter how much destruction can be created, that there is still love and acceptance within that. These men may not be jedi, may not be one with the force, but they have taught me more then any temple learning, or lesson from my master.” Skip finished.

The temple teacher was taken back before an angry look crossed over her face.

Then a Rodian stepped forewards.

“Padawan, perhaps Hunter can teach us one of the forms he has taught you...I admit, I’m not very comfortable with Saber skills.” The Rodian said.

Hunter smiled.

“I’d be honored, though I’m gonna need some assistance Skip.” Hunter said.

And Hunter watched as his vod’ika gave a wide grin.

The Batch made their way back to the Havoc Marauder, Tech was talking adamantly about the questions he had received from the other padawans, and Crosshair looked as if he might strangle him any second.

“Hey Skip, hold on for a sec.” Hunter called.

Skip halted as Hunter pulled something out from his belt pouch.

“You made me real proud today vod’ika.But your still as annoying as a Tooka.” Hunter stated passing something into her hands, before walking after his brothers.

Skip looked down to her hands, seeing a wooden Tooka in her hand, it’s face carved into a mischievous grin.

Skip looked up happily.

“Wipe that grin off your face. I can’t believe you made me go through with this. Your going to be doing twice as much work tomorrow in training Skip!” Crosshair teased.

“Whatever you say ori’vod!” Skip smiled.

“You guys were pretty close.” Echo said, “I wish I could have known them a bit better.”

“They were great.” Skip whispered, a stray tear falling down her face.

“It’s late.” Skip said a moment later, wiping her eyes. “I gotta get to bed. I have a early shift.”

“Goodnight.” Echo said softly. Skip ruffled his hair once more in passing.

By morning, Skip found herself at work. Not even an hour into her shift a nearby customer’s conversation broke through her focus.

“Such an odd group they were...strange armor wearing helmets...no no...nothing like those imperial troopers...no there were skulls on them!”

Skip dropped the breakfast platters in her arms.

As the owner came out to yell at her employee, the door slammed shut behind Skip, apron falling to the tiled floor.

Skip ran all the way back to the ship, knocking on the metal before beginning to pull on the vines.

Echo opened the ramp quickly, coming out.

“It’s time isn’t it...” He said, tearing at the brush

“Maybe the next planet we can save some money up huh?” Skip answered.

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s you and me Skip...”

“Your all I got Echo.”

The weight of the wooden figure tucked securely in her pocket reminded her of a time however, when there had been more.

#the bad batch #padawan!skip #Padawan Skip #clone force 99 #bad batch #sergeant hunter #crosshair #wrecker #tech #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #swtcw

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ollyarchive · 4 years

Photo

Olly Alexander: ‘I want to make the community proud. I don’t know if I've always got it right’

David Levesley

As Ritchie Tozer in Russell T Davies’ devastating 1980s-set drama It's A Sin, Olly Alexander told a story from a tragically formative decade in gay history. As himself and as frontman of synthpop trio Years & Years, he contributes to a new narrative. But, as he reveals here, the insecurities and anxieties written into minority identities are not just a personal challenge: they can shape stories told by, for and about all his peers

It is the afternoon before It’s A Sin is broadcast to the nation and its star, 30-year-old musician and actor Olly Alexander, is buying a cat cushion. “It’s for a friend!” he says, mortified to be caught in the act of buying a plush feline.

Where once being the star of a primetime Channel 4 drama might mean greenrooms, watch parties and a celebratory afters, this is January 2021, so a flame-haired Alexander is sitting in his kitchen, drinking a smoothie the exact same lilac as his top.

“I’ve had a lot of restless energy,” he says, having binge-watched The Real Housewives Of New York City in between doing lots of squats and “watching homoerotic YouTube workout videos”. It’s not quite the normal build-up to a game-changing drama, but is there a better way to remember peacetime than watching a show filled with period pieces such as “friends drink indoors” or “strangers have guiltless sex at a house party”? It’s A Sin is both a masterpiece and a reminder that someday we will, once again, be able to be eaten out by hot men. “You’re so welcome,” Alexander says, laughing. “If I can bring anything to the British public, it’s a lesson in anal hygiene.”

Anal hygiene are two words we have probably never published together in GQ, but, more importantly, are probably not the subject of many – if any! – scenes in a piece of media not uploaded to OnlyFans. They are, however, the subject of a crucial scene in the first episode of It’s A Sin, in which Alexander’s character – an 18-year-old fledgling queer from the Isle Of Wight called Ritchie Tozer – gets rimmed by his campus crush, Ash Mukherjee (Nathaniel Curtis). No gay men watching came out of that scene not feeling seen and, like all the other sex scenes in It’s A Sin, it feels deeply realistic and fantastically homosexual.

“I can tell you I’ll never forget being practically butt-naked with my arse in the air in front of colleagues,” says Alexander, laughing. But by that point, he says, he had done so many sex scenes that it felt somewhat rote. “‘Ritchie’s got a dirty bum! Stick that arse in the air and look disappointed!’” What was interesting, he says, was the dynamic of trying to produce the most authentically gay experiences possible on camera.

‘WE UNDERSTOOD THESE CHARACTERS WITH A KIND OF SHORTHAND THAT GAY PEOPLE UNDERSTAND’

They were working with Ita O’Brien – a movement director and arguably the OG intimacy coordinator – but, for her sins, not a gay man. So while everyone would have an input in how a sex scene would be best shot, “There came a point when they would say, ‘Please tell us, because we’re not gay men.’” So then the writer, the performers, the director and O’Brien’s team would come to a consensus on how to make a threesome look like three men shagging, yet also make it look the best it could on camera and make sure “you never touch each other’s genitals, basically”.

Alexander says O’Brien’s input was a “lifesaver” for him on set. Although by the end he felt comfortable, he was at first intimidated by just how exposing this would be. “I had a bit of a hysterical breakdown. I was really worried I couldn’t do it. I just didn’t feel safe.” This was interesting to hear from Alexander, the proudly queer frontman of the band Years & Years, who “spent four years on the road performing and finding this character that I do feel sexy in”. It was then that O’Brien and the team asked him to bring whatever made him feel comfortable on stage into the room before the cameras rolled. “So I would sing before the takes, be a little bit of Olly on stage,” he says, laughing. “That was my way of tricking my brain and thinking it was a character. Which, of course, it was.”

Before he was Olly Alexander, consummate gamine artiste, Olly Alexander Thornton was a singled-out kid at a primary school in Gloucestershire (where his mother ran a music festival). He was, like many other gay kids growing up, bullied and harassed for being something “other”, which everyone is able to see long before you can define it yourself. “I remember being in primary school and I had long hair and people would call me a girl,” he says, and the wound still feels raw when he recounts it.

“I knew that was bad for boys. I didn’t like the things that other boys liked: I just wanted to play with the girls and watch Disney movies. Which obviously straight boys do as well,” he mentions, always making sure to provide caveats to include all facets of the human experience. Although the bullying began to subside by secondary school in Monmouthshire, he still stood out: he had big curly hair – “I was trying to hide my ears” – and would wear make-up or a choker sometimes on nonuniform days. “I think I was trying to figure out who I was,” he says. “Imagine getting to discover your own sexuality without any preconceived ideas! I mean, maybe that’s impossible. But it would be nice, right? Why should people bullying you be your first brush with your own sexuality?”

Like Ritchie Tozer, Alexander moved to London at 18 to pursue acting, but he also had designs on becoming a musician. “Because when you’re writing a song, you’re the director, the star, the producer, the writer. I wanted all of that! I needed that to be able to express myself,” he proclaims with faux hysteria. For years he found success as an actor in a diverse selection of roles: he appeared in Gaspar Noé’s Enter The Void, costarred with seemingly every other white British actor in The Riot Club and also in God Help The Girl, a musical film written by Belle And Sebastian’s Stuart Murdoch. “Then Years & Years just got to a place where it was going to take over and needed my full time,” Alexander says. So his focus moved to the music.

‘IMAGINE DISCOVERING YOUR SEXUALITY WITHOUT ANY PRECONCEIVED IDEAS!’

It was on their third single, “Real” – released in 2014 – that Alexander first felt his art and his sexuality really intermingle. “It was the first time I put in a male pronoun – I say ‘Do it, boy’ – and it’s quite subtle, but it was a big deal for me at the time.” This was when Years & Years were trying to get signed to a major label, so doing something so consciously queer felt like a risk (the band went on to sign with Polydor later that year).

While pop music has long had an element of queerness about it – you need only look at the artists featured in It’s A Sin to see how gay 1980s pop was – Alexander has long been frank that sexuality and success are not always seen as natural bedfellows. At a Stonewall event in 2018 he recounted being told during his media training, “Maybe it’s better not to say anything about your sexuality at all.” In the same year, he told NME there had been progress, but that “I just know there are people who are hiding their sexuality, so it’s still not gone completely”.

Alexander doubled down on it with the music video – featuring his Bright Star costar Ben Whishaw – where he “purposefully made it gay. There’s a cruising element to the very beginning. It’s slightly ambiguous, though, because back then I wasn’t quite ready to launch into being the gay crusader I think I am now.” In 2015 the band won the BBC’s Sound Of 2015 poll, releasing their first album, Communion, the same year. It became 2015’s fastest-selling debut album from a UK-signed band.

‘I JUST WATCHED LIAM PAYNE TAKE HIS TOP OFF, BUT NOW I’M NOT ALLOWED TO?’

But despite the success, and the realisation that audiences were either supportive of – or simply unfazed by – the queerness of Years & Years’ music, there is always an anxiety for Alexander about just how accepting people are willing to be. “I’ll tell you for real,” says Alexander, “I go out on stage – even if it’s for our own audience – and I’m like, ‘What if some of them don’t like me? What if some of them have an issue with me today?’ I always feel like I’m going to try a bit harder next time, try to do a bit more.”

While the character of “Olly Alexander, Years & Years frontman” is one that bespangles its performer with confidence, being queer in the music industry isn’t always an easy thing to navigate. He remembers seeing a tweet from someone who said Alexander’s sexuality was a ruse to try to attract the pink pound – a term for the spending power of gay men – “And it had an impact on me, because I’ve consciously tried to [be openly gay] in a lot of circumstances where I wouldn’t normally. And then for someone...” He tries to think of how to put it and comes up short. “It can chip away at you.”

He wouldn’t change a thing about his success, he says, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times when it isn’t hard to be out and proud while also getting your foot in the door. “When we’re playing a pop music festival, I’m looking at the other acts in the lineup and there aren’t that many gay people on them,” he says. “You see how quickly your show isn’t family friendly any more because I want to take my top off and I’m like, ‘Well, I just watched Jason Derulo and Liam Payne take their tops off and have all these women in underwear, but now I’m not allowed?’ What do you do with that?”

It’s A Sin marks a return to acting but, also, a chance to refresh Alexander’s musical batteries too. Following Years & Years’ second album – 2018’s Palo Santo – the third album was proving hard to pin down. “I’ve been trying to make this album for about 18 months at this point, stopping and starting, listening to all the songs and... it’s just not feeling relevant any more.” Alexander had always loved Russell T Davies’ work, so when he heard Davies was making a new TV show he “had to be in it. I would just jump at the chance to work with him. And that was before I read the script.” Years & Years had just finished touring Palo Santo and, to Alexander, it felt like the stars had aligned.

While the anxiety of performing queer sex scenes might have been particularly exposing for a gay man like Alexander, there were huge benefits for him being in a cast and crew that were predominantly LGBTQ+. “It was a revelation. I’ve never been on a set with so many queer people. I’ve never even worked with a gay director, so it was a completely new experience.” Plus, being asked to play part of a group of gay best friends, portrayed predominantly by gay actors, meant the chemistry came very quickly: “We understood these characters [with a] kind of shorthand that gay people understand.”

An inclusive, comfortable environment was beneficial for more than just sex scenes and simulating a decade of friendship. It’s A Sin also required its cast to grapple with the issue of HIV and aids, not just as a part of the furniture – as we do in the 21st century, with our knowledge of viral loads, sleeping with undetectable partners and new medications such as Prep – but really putting a forgotten part of British queer history under the lens, who it affected and how it changed the LGBTQ+ community irrevocably. “It’s an issue that is deeply surrounded by stigma and there’s a lot of trauma there and a lot of fear,” Alexander explains. “I know, personally, it was an area that I was scared to really engage with.”

He mentions that just before filming he made friends with an older gay couple at his gym and in talking about the show with them he was offered a rare opportunity to hear about personal experiences of the aids crisis. “It can be so difficult as a gay person to feel like you have intergenerational support,” says Alexander. “Elders are so important in our community. You can get so much from the people who have gone through so much before and fought that fight.”

For Alexander and the cast, It’s A Sin was a rare opportunity: a chance to be brought together with a whole group of men and women who were there at the time and who were willing to share their experiences with them. “I feel so lucky that I got to engage with that and keep learning. I was just scratching the surface and there are so many stories you can tell from this period. It’s impacted us all the way until now and it will in the future.”

Starring in It’s A Sin has also changed what Years & Years’ third album is going to sound like. After the initial writer’s block, Alexander says, he focused instead on the music of the show (Bronski Beat, Kelly Marie, the titular song by Pet Shop Boys) “and it really took my mind back to the club” – especially in the midst of a pandemic, when the queer nightlife venues that are the backbone of our community are so desperately missed.

“All the music I wanted to listen to in lockdown was high energy. It was dance floor. It was club music.” This was the music that had played such a huge role in his early life in London, had inspired the first Years & Years album and a genre that owes a great debt to the LGBTQ+ community. “I think at their heart, lots of these songs are about joy despite crushing pain. I just thought, ‘God, imagine hearing “I Feel Love” on the dance floor for the first time.’ What a transcendent experience that would be.”

‘ELDERS ARE SO IMPORTANT IN OUR COMMUNITY. YOU CAN GET SO MUCH FROM THE PEOPLE WHO HAVE FOUGHT THAT FIGHT’

And so Alexander went into the studio – as soon as it was safe to do so – and created a bunch of new songs. Is it easy to find collaborators behind the scenes who get it when he says, “I want it to feel like Britney meets Rihanna meets Hot Chip via New Order”?

“It can be a challenge to find someone that really understands,” admits Alexander. He recalled being sent round the songwriters and producers in Los Angeles that all artists are sent round at a certain point, “And some of those people are amazing – some amazing queer people as well – but predominantly... You know, they’re straight, so it can be quite challenging.”

Feeling safe with his collaborators hasn’t been an easy journey, but now he’s in a good place for it. He also pointed out that it’s not just queers who can understand his vision: his bandmates are straight, he points out – “I really believe in working with straight people! Some of my best friends are straight!” – and his frequent collaborator, the producer Mark Ralph, “is a real ally to us gays”, who was always willing to vibe along to Paris Hilton singles with him.

A new sound – a queerer sound – isn’t just a risk in a world where Alexander’s performances are held to double standards and the linchpins of queer culture can still be seen as synonymous with perversion. The impossible standards queer work is held to don’t just come from the straight world: gay men can be terrible recipients of work designed for them too.

Russell T Davies has dealt with it his entire career: “There’s the problem of lack of representation, but there’s the problem that when you are represented, it’s just not seen,” he explained when I spoke to him recently. “You just learn to cope. I worry about it. I probably worry about it more than I say here, but at the end of the day it’s never stopped me writing the next thing.” But he gets it because he, too, is a gay man who consumes art and he sees the same biases coming out when he watches other queer-centric work.

Yet he was amazed that artists younger than him are still dealing with the same crises: “It’s what comes with being a minority. It’s what comes of oppression and you kind of expect this to pass. But then you talk to young people like Olly, who’s a different generation from me, and you find them thinking the same things,” Davies said. “I was lucky to have my training during an age when you’d be lucky to get one review in the Times. Now you live in a world of reviewers.”

When I ask Alexander if he worries how gay men will respond to a gay artist’s work, it is no easier for him to respond than it was for Davies. “Oh, God, you’re making my heart race now,” he says, breathless. “I should be careful, because I don’t want to demonise anybody. But I tried to really unpack this myself and... I’ll just sort of say it.” It is clear that this is intense for him: his eyes are looking watery as he tries to phrase it delicately.

“I have this – I think irrational – anxiety about gay men tearing me down. And I tried to interrogate that within myself and I think it’s complicated, because a lot of it has to do with internalised phobias and shame, about how I see myself versus how other people see me.” He begins to cry. “What I do know is that I want them to not hate me. And I want to make the community proud. It’s been at the heart of pretty much every decision I’ve ever made. And I don’t know if I’ve always got it right.”

‘I HAVE THIS – I THINK IRRATIONAL – ANXIETY ABOUT GAY MEN TEARING ME DOWN’

It’s tough being an actor asked to shed light and humanity on a complex phase in British LGBTQ+ history; it’s just as tough to be a gay man trying to make pop music that speaks to the queer experience. But Alexander is doing both and, what’s more, he’s being unapologetically queer in the public eye. There aren’t many LGBTQ+ people in the position Alexander is in and it must be exhausting, I suggest, to be expected to speak for the needs and fears of an entire spectrum of sexual and gender identities. After all, he’s just one man who wants to be proud of who he is. “Sometimes, when I feel the most anxious, I have a voice in my head that goes, ‘Oh, Olly, why on earth did you put yourself in this position? You really are not the strong person people think you are.’” But, he says, he is learning he can’t speak for everyone, even if people expect it of him.

Instead, he’s focusing on being proud of what he’s done – the visibility, the audacity, the bravery – rather than the critique of his anxieties or Twitter trolls. “I’m always thinking about me as a teenager and how I’m creating the person I wanted to be in the world. I’m actually doing it! Holy fuck!”

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