#i apologise for my grammar

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been. 

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause. 

“I think I should go.” 

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 

“Yes.” 

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

[diorfemmedoll]

Just yearning for a relaxing evening with a handsome butch aaaa

greeting eachother with a warm hug and tender words. earthy and comforting musk invading my nose. their presence immediately filling me with a sensation of safety and protection. letting them help me take off my coat and kissing their cheek in thanks. feeling my cheeks heat up as they compliment my outfit and tell me how pretty i look even tho I’m tired and my hair a bit messy.

feeling their delicate touches as they help me wash my hair and body, pressing a few kisses to my shoulders and neck as i giggle softly, my stomach fluttering.

getting dressed in a pretty nightgown only to cover it partically with my butches hoodie, enveloping me in comfort and security.

feeling their eyes on me as i do my excessive skin care routine and then doing it for them. gently massaging the products into their skin while we both smile lovingly at one another. watching their smile grow as i cant help but disclose how handsome they are.

cooking something yummy together, while we talk about our day, joke and laugh, sharing a few kisses and caresses in and between.

brushing our teeth next to eachother, our bodies touching lightly as we exchange glances in the mirror.

getting into a warm bed and feeling their strong arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me against them and whispering words of affection into my ear.

falling asleep in their arms, feeling like a princess with their knight, always nearby, ready to protect, love and care for them. falling asleep completely and utterly in love.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Some softish wedding vibes for the lovely @flowercrowngods sorry this took all day

The wedding was beautiful. A cosy little affair in the forest surrounding the Byers-Hopper cabin, just The Party and their immediate family. The guests had a myriad of mismatched chairs decorated with pretty tulle bows, the aisle strewn with wildflower petals collected by the kids, fairy lights strung from the trees casting a warm glow over the dusk ceremony.

The older teens of the party had been on decorating duty and they’d done a great job, even if Steve did say so himself.

Joyce looked stunning in her simple, lace summer gown, Hop beaming and wiping tears from his eyes as Jon walked his mum down the aisle.

Claudia sobbed loudly, Dustin tutting but handing her tissues, shhing her every now and again, making everyone hide a smile behind their hands when she'd wailed "it's just so beautifulllllll!"

Murray had officiated, dressed in ceremonial robes and actually on his best behaviour for a change. Will was Joyce's man of honour, El was Hop's best woman, Steve had never seen either of them look more radiant.

Steve had been roped into dress shopping by El and Max because although she was doing much better, Max's eyesight wasn't what it once was and Steve was apparently the only one with any fashion sense. He was glad he'd gone with them because the three of them had had so much fun, both girls had picked beautiful dresses without really needing his help at all, not that it stopped him smiling to himself as they spun happily in front of the floor length mirror, letting the skirts flow around them, or from taking them both for new records and ice cream, that Dustin had thrown a two hour fit for missing out on.

Then somehow the mum's had talked him into taking all the boys to hire tuxedos, not that he'd minded but Eddie had tagged along when he heard from Dustin that it was going to be a fun road trip with new records and ice cream, and seeing him spin out of the dressing room, all high on life from being with the kids and out of Hawkins, his hair tied up in a messy bun had taken Steve's breath away. Luckily he'd managed to cover it up with a laugh when Dustin had popped out next dressed in a white tux, strutting around because he thought he looked like Elvis.

So they all looked gorgeous and it was all just very sweet and picturesque and romantic.

Although Steve could've done without Mike snarking in his ear at every opportunity, snapping his name like his nanny used to when he was misbehaving, except Steve wasn't doing anything wrong. In fact the first time he'd been told off he'd been up a ladder hanging lights, the second time he'd only walked out the cabin, now dressed in his suit, trying and failing to get his tie perfect. The third time he'd been stuffing cake in his mouth in a rush because his and Max's song had just come on but he was torn between moving and eating, so he'd sloppily thrown the cake in his mouth, frosting pouring out the edges of his lips. Steve didn't get his reaction, yeah it was a little gross but Max was laughing so who cared.

So as soon as the song ended and El came back to dance with Max, Steve grabbed Mike by the collar and dragged him into the cabin.

"Okay, what's your problem? You've been at me all day!" Steve demanded to know, hands on his hips.

Mike spluttered and grouched incoherently, something about Eddie, him being a person, which was just perplexingly obvious. And for someone who'd had a lot to say all day, he suddenly wasn't saying anything, but Steve knew if he just waited Mike out, he'd eventually get his thoughts out in a coherent sentence. Except Will came dashing into the cabin, eye's lighting up when they landed on Mike, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him back out into the party, before he ever had a chance.

Steve sighed rejoining the reception, mingling and chatting and trying not to be too obvious as he watched Eddie, maybe he'd said something to Mike, maybe he'd noticed the way Steve hadn't really been able to keep his eyes to himself, since, well since forever really but he'd definitely been more consciously aware of his lingering gazes since he'd woken up in the hospital with a joke and a groan, and they'd only become more incessant since he'd first seen him in that damn tux. Christ, Steve get a hold of yourself!

He just hopes he wasn't making Eddie uncomfortable, he didn't think he was because every time Eddie glanced over, it was always with a big smile, the one that started soft but grew until his dimples were showing when Steve smiled back, so he was almost sure that probably wasn't it, surely he'd look away like Robin did when men letched over her.

The next time Mike snapped at him, he was only dancing with Robin, not closely and certainly not well. Dancing In The Moonlight by King Harvest was playing, it was a song they all knew and loved and listened to whenever they all hung out. Robin had dragged him to his feet, just as he'd sat down with Wayne to chat about next weekend's game, and forced him to dance, waggling his arms around and doing all the silly moves until he couldn't help but join in.

Steve's eyes immediately snapped to Eddie, who was sitting by the edge of the makeshift dance floor, looking more miserable than Steve had ever seen him, even when he was a wanted man and on the run. Steve handed Robin to Mike, who protested about being forced to dance, but Robin had had a few glasses of wine and didn't seem too fussed about who she was dancing with, so long as she had a dance partner.

Wayne had his arm slung over the back of Eddie's chair but Eddie was slouched forward head in his hands forlornly watching everyone dance instead of joining like he usually would. Wayne and Steve shared a smile as he headed towards them, Wayne jumping up with a mumbled excuse, disappearing over to the buffet table to chat with Claudia.

Steve loved how he never needed words with Wayne, it was like he could read Steve like a book, had since their first meeting in Eddie's hospital room, he'd just given Steve a hard stare and for a second he thought he was about to get a smack or at least thrown out but Wayne had just given him a soft smile and pulled out another uncomfortable plastic chair for Steve to sit with him at Eddie's bedside.

They'd been fast friends, bonding over stories of Eddie, sports and an adoration of cheese of all things. Wayne even called him son, like he did with Eddie but that was probably just because there hadn't been a weekend since Eddie left the hospital, where Steve hadn't been at their new government bought apartment, screaming at the tv or the radio with Wayne, Eddie huffing and rolling his eyes and bemoaning that he was being forced to put up with two sports fanatics.

But Steve quickly learned the easiest way to settle Eddie was through his stomach, staying after the game to make fresh pizza or four cheese gnocchi or manicotti, from recipes he'd stolen from an old trunk in his attic, watching with pride as both Munson's wolfed down his food, was the easiest way to make Eddie beam at him.

Eddie hadn't noticed Steve coming over, didn't even perceive his presence until there was nothing but a pair of legs directly in his eyeline, forcing Eddie to look up at him.

"Hi," Steve said tentatively, Eddie's smile settling quickly back into place but not quite meeting his eyes.

"Stevie," Eddie greeted, aiming for normality but just the fact that he hadn't drawn out the e gave him away, "nice moves," he teased, sounding a bit too grouchy to be playful.

Steve adored that about their dynamic, the playful mocking, the poking and tickling and doing whatever they could to make the other bite back or laugh hysterically or both but it felt less like their playful banter and more like a defense mechanism, like maybe Eddie was mad with him.

And maybe it was something about the soft warm lighting or the giant strawberry moon peering down on them or the fact that they were at a wedding but something felt bigger, heavier but at the same time incredibly delicate like one wrong move could destroy them both.

"Dance with me," Steve murmured instead of teasing him back, holding his hand out for Eddie to take. Eddie furrowed his brows and blinked owlishly at him, Steve couldn't help thinking he looked adorable but if he let his introspection go on too long, he'd be lost for the night. Steve wafted his hand impatiently, trying to snap Eddie into the present but he only blinked slowly at his outstretched hand too.

"Aren't you dancing with Robin?" Eddie eventually asked hesitantly, which confused the living bejesus out of Steve because surely he couldn't mean…

Steve shook his head vigorously trying to send that mental image back to the pits of hell where it belonged, glancing purposefully over to the dance floor, he could see Robin'd got her arms around Nancy's neck blushing deeply as she babbled constantly. He knew she hadn't quite been able to look at Nancy the same way since they'd visited Creel together but Nancy had her arms securely around Robin's waist, listening intently and grinning and maybe, just maybe…

"I think she's content with her new partner," Steve mumbled, knowing full well that Eddie knew Robin almost as closely as he did, knew that Eddie could see what he saw and that whatever he was doing was some kind of avoidance technique, "dance with me."

They'd danced before, alone and in front of the party, there was no reason for Eddie to be nervous, didn't stop him looking anxiously around Steve's legs at the dancefloor, "There's people," Eddie muttered dejectedly.

Steve glanced over his shoulder and then back to Eddie, with a confused frown, "You mean all the people who love and care about us?" he asked affectionately.

Eddie snorted and huffed, "You," he corrected shortly.

Steve's brows furrowed deeply, "Huh?"

Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes, "All the people who care about you," he clarified grumpily.

Oh no, he's gone down the rabbit hole.

Steve sighed heavily, "Okay, that's not even close to the truth, but for the sake of not arguing, if they care about me, they have to care about you," he informed him.

Eddie sniggered, "Why, you gonna beat 'em up if they don't?" Eddie tried to tease but it came out too flat.

"No," Steve sighed, hooking his finger under Eddie's chin and forcing him to look at him, "anyone who doesn't care about you, doesn't get to care about me. These people are my family but if it came down to a choice of them or you, I'd pick you every time," Steve admitted sincerely.

Eddie's breath hitched but he didn't say anything, looked like he might cry if he did.

Steve decided it was time to just use his trump card, "Dance with me. Please."

And just like that Eddie jumped to his feet dragging Steve onto the dancefloor, because Eddie never denied Steve anything when he said please, not that Eddie ever denied him anything really but it was like a little button that overpowered all Eddie's apprehension and theatrics.

"Can I stay with you please?"

"C'mon Eddie, up, Owens says it'll be good for you to go for a little walk. No? Please?"

"Could you just keep talking until I fall asleep please?"

"Can you pick Dustin up tonight please?"

"Could you bring milk when you come over please?"

"What's wrong Eds? Talk to me, please."

They got situated just as the song changed to a much slower one, At Last by Etta James. Appropriate, Steve thought gleefully. Eddie just stood there, a little shell-shocked and unsure but not running away so Steve gently took his hands and put them on his waist, circling his own around Eddie's neck, except Eddie had his arms perfectly straight keeping a space between them.

"What're you doing?" Steve asked, fond amusement in his voice, it wasn't like they'd never been close before.

"Leaving room for Jesus," Eddie replied, Steve recognised it as an autopilot response, Eddie long lost to his mind, but Steve couldn't help it, the bubble of laughter just burst right out of him. Sometimes Eddie was just inadvertently funny and when Steve laughed he'd stand there like he was replaying the conversation until Eddie was laughing too at his own comment but Eddie's face crumbled, trying to pull away but Steve just held on tighter.

"Hey, no, Eds. I wasn't laughing at you, just maybe we're a bit old for Jesus to need to dance with us. C'mere," Steve said, pulling Eddie closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around him, swaying slowly to the music.

The look in Eddie's eyes as they listened to the song told Steve all he needed to know about why Eddie had been avoiding him, why he was only looking his way when he thought Steve wasn't looking, why he was being so evasive, how he'd managed to spiral so far that he thought he and Robin, ugh, Steve can't even think it.

Even Mike's snapping made a whole lot more sense, "Stop messing with Eddie," boy really needs to learn to stop grumbling, "he's a person, he has feelings!" Mike could see Eddie pining and had taken it on himself to try to stop Steve doing whatever mundane task that had Eddie yearning.

It was probably the sweetest thing Steve had ever seen Mike do for someone who wasn't El or Will, even if it pissed Steve off that he'd always be a cad in Mike's eyes, that he just assumed that Steve was a bad guy (when he's done nothing but throw himself in front of him and his friends time and again to protect them) that he was purposefully leading Eddie on, being intentionally enticing just to hurt him.

Not that it mattered what Mike thought, he could only hope that it was all his biases and not that Eddie hadn't been venting to the kids, all that mattered was that that wasn't what Eddie thought of him.

The whole atmosphere of the night had changed, everyone had slowed and quietened, couples solely focused on the person in their arms. But Steve felt the ground under his feet change, drew from Captain Steve the guy who'd thrown the first punch at Billy to protect his kids, felt Sir Steve crawl up his throat, the Knight who'd gone into battle against an all-powerful beast and brought his comrades out of the pits of hell because he'd seen now, seen clearly for the first time in god knows how long and he couldn't just go back to pretending, not without giving this is best shot. And thank god for Etta James because she was going to help him, because he could do this, he could be brave and fight for what he wanted for a change.

He had a horrible singing voice but Eddie already knew that, told him so often and in many imaginative ways.

"I found a dream that I could speak to, a dream that I can call my own," he sang quietly, trying to copy Wayne's looking into your soul look, trying to let Eddie see that his feelings are reciprocated, classing it as a win when Eddie grins, blushing deeply and mushes his face into Steve's neck.

"I've found a thrill to press my cheek to, a thrill that I've never known," he continued, nuzzling further into Eddie's neck because now he was this close it was like he couldn't get close enough.

"You smiled," Steve murmured against his skin, unable to wipe the lovesick smile off of his face. He and Eddie had always been close but they both knew this was different.

Originally it started with helping him limp around when he'd refuse to use his crutches, then when Wayne had to go back to work Steve started staying the night so Eddie could sleep without having to worry about waking up alone after a nightmare, he'd only spent the first few hours on the sofa before Eddie woke up screaming, sweaty and shaking, Steve hadn't even thought about it just clambered in behind Eddie pulling him flush against him, shhing him and running his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face, he didn't bother with the sofa again after that, they just shared Eddie's bed, soothing both their nightmares with the others presence.

But they've had time and distance from their trauma since then, most of them have been to therapy and they're all doing better, they can sleep in their own houses, in their own beds, they can all actually sleep for eight hours and wake up well rested. But he and Eddie stayed as close as ever, it's rare that they're never not touching, if Eddie's tired he'll attach himself to Steve like a backpack. They hug, they hold hands, Eddie even kissed him on the cheek one time, Steve's pretty sure it was an accident but he'd been so busy trying to hide the blush that'd sprung to his cheeks to really read the situation, maybe if he had they might've got here sooner because looking back Steve's not really sure how he missed all the signs, Eddie sits in his lap on movie nights for god sake.

"You smiled," Steve sang, pulling back to look at Eddie, to look at the adorable endeared grin and the pretty blush he can't hide because his hair's all tied up, still neat as a pin, showing just how much hairspray Claudia had used to hold it in place.

"And then the spell was cast," he crooned, because it was, from all the way back in school when Eddie would taunt the other jocks but there was never any bite in it when it came to Steve, his teasing came with a smile he never saw directed at anyone else, and he still remembers how it would make him preen a little and how he'd always feel a little peppier for the rest of the day.

But it felt like magic when they met for real, not the king and the jester but Steve and Eddie, battling the unknown side by side, Eddie smiling real smiles, teeth and dimples, all for Steve, because of Steve. And then of course he'd just had to be the hero and Steve had swore at him the whole way to the hospital because he'd been so mad but after days at his bedside, the first time he woke up and smiled at Steve, he knew from that moment on he was done for.

He'd just never thought they could have this, never dreamed Eddie would feel the same way so he buried that feeling deep down, enjoyed his friendship, relished being someone Eddie could rely on, being his confidant and still even when Eddie said "don't punch me but…" Steve had been too scared to rock the boat, didn't want to lose what they had because just because Eddie was interested in men didn't mean he was interested in him.

Who'd've thought Mike Wheeler would've been the one to make Steve see what was right on the end of his nose.

"And here we are in heaven," Steve trilled, resting his forehead against Eddie's trying to calm his heart before it beats right out of his chest, because there's butterflies taking flight and Steve's never in his life been nervous about a kiss but this one feels monumental and he can feel it coming and he wants it now and he also wants to wait and let this moment last forever.

"For you are mine," Eddie crooned, sounding more like a question. And as much as Steve always melts whenever Eddie sings, the fact that Eddie's still questioning his intentions, after he declared that Eddie's the most important person in his life, after what they're currently doing, just makes Steve realise how long Eddie's been his, how blind they've both been, how they've both been so wrapped up in what they can't have neither of them noticed it was right there for the taking.

Steve beams at him, let's Eddie see the way he makes him feel, the way he's always made him feel, nods like he's agreeing to a marriage proposal, deliriously happy and tear streaked.

"At last," Etta sings into the moonlit evening, as the boys seal their promise with a kiss.

[arahabakix]

look look y'know how soukoku uses their irl literary works as codes during missions???

 there is an element of teamwork in all of these since well y'know they're a duo. but dazai and chuuya probably have a million plans and code words to set them in motion. i've been thinking this over for a while now and many ppl have raised it too since guddobai (グッド・バイ) is dazai osamu's final unfinished work it could be an SOS signal sorta situation.

dazai being dazai probably did make provisions for a scenario where he would be of no use, where the other person's (chuuya's) decisions would have to take center stage BUT not dead apple flavoured since he literally can't do anything unlike then where his revival could nullify shibuzawa's ability. (and also yes, chuuya did technically move according to dazai's plans in dead apple. because he banked on chuuya reviving him in time)

but i do think dazai already made/has a plan in case he was indisposed of. like he knew/accounted for a possibility where he wouldn't be able to do anything. that dazai would be severely injured or handicapped or idk plummeting to his death? <not saying he foresaw the events but dude makes plans for everything he has ANXIETY: EXTREME EDITION>.

dazai probably never thought he'd make it out of meursault alive. but dazai probably hoped that should that be the case chuuya would know what to do. then again dazai probably never foresaw fyodor using chuuya and the usage of 'guddo bai' could essentially be him signalling that he has faith in chuuya like he has always stated. 'a come save me you're the only one who can and i have no more cards left' type of deal. where chuuya will have to work with the premise that there is no more scheming or snark waiting to greet him at the end.

[cheeseblind]

Hello! Hope you're doing well and thanks for keeping us all posted!

Because sharing is caring - just wanted to muse that its nice to see a part of a fanbase actually dealing with this rather well? I've kind of removed myself from fandoms on the whole as spaces I've thought were progressive have turned on female survivors on a dime just for quietly posting about harassment. I dunno - guess I'm kind of scared now of liking anything to the point that instead of giving it up I'd choose to be sus of accusations just because I like a persona. But at least from what I can see as a lurker, you guys have all been really cool about it, despite how difficult it is to deal with once you've invested in making content and a community. Even as someone who has only been into NRB for a couple of months, the last few days have really sucked but this lil slice of tumblr has helped. So yay <3 faith: restored!

I think for me now my main concern is why Carley thought it was maybe being swept under the rug, and if they did infact, deal with the situation as soon as they were made aware. Certainly, the statement is promising, even if its impossible to know if we would have got one if it all hadn't blown up like it did.

I wonder as well, if Adam does sadly need to be let go, if it's not better for them just to keep the accusations vague for the sake of privacy and not opening it up for debate like last time where everyone comes out of the woodwork to defend abusive behaviour. But then again, maybe that just gets the cast harassed for further info, who knows. Not sure how they'd handle it if he does remain with NRB.

But ive rambled in your inbox enough! Hopefully 4 player communipoly will get me excited for NRB again even with these caveats, because right now I'm being productive instead of watching BOTC all day and ugh, gross.

Enjoy D20!

i agree! while i have seen a couple of gross comments by and large this fanbase has been a kind and supportive place since we found out, which is definitely very nice to see (also my recent big fanbases before (and alongside) this were all sports, imagine the hell that is) so comparatively yeah. not awful. its been nice bc it hasnt felt like an argument at any point which sometimes it can in worse fanbases.

and yeah, idk, i def dont like it at all that nothing was said before it became a big thing but also i understand that from a legal + pr pov ig? and yeah ig im just hoping their statement is completely honest + they werent gna fully ignore it if it never came up but we will never know that now ig

and honestly personally i would prefer we get details bc of who i am as a person, but idk what theyre gna decide and idrk how im gna react to anything anyway icl

<3 hope youre well

[silverstarfics]

I'm losing my mind. I put a semicolon and spellchecker doesn't like it.

So I put a comma instead and...

IT STILL DOESN'T LIKE IT!! WHAT DOES IT WANT FROM ME??

[xerayn]

I want to line the pieces up, yours and mine

Sad Crowley because I apparently want to suffer. Feel free to use as a homescreen or background, it should be the right size!

[topaz-carbuncle]

Wip Wednesday

Thank you @agentnatesewell for the tag! <3

I've been trying to get back into writing more than small fic starters recently. Work and a pretty nasty cold that I've been dealing with have drained me from feeling creative for the past few days, as well as the fact that I've been feeling pretty down this week.

But since I've had a lot of time bored out of my mind while in bed, I have made some more progress on a book 1 fic for Val and Nate!

I adore Book 1 a lot, so I wanted to give Book 1 Nate + Val some more love!

Tagging: @serenpedac and anyone else who wishes to share their amazing WIPs! (I would love to tag more people, especially mutuals, but most of the ones I've spotted floating around have them tagged already and I don't wish to be annoying! <3)

[owlask]

I am feeling courageous, here are the two blogs:

@blogmalti - Maltese-English blog

@italiano-con-malti - Italian-Maltese practice blog

[happyspookysteamer]

Letters to a Friend

Chapter 1

To Pass the Time

Old, worn out pistons could barely be heard, working hard in one of the most severe downpours the island has ever seen.

Creaking and groaning sounded as a train roared around a particularly harsh turn, the sound could be heard through the harsh thrashing sounds of the rain hitting the ground.

The constant moving parts of the locomotive ground against each other, this engine probably needed its joints oiled. The engine disappeared into a tunnel the sounds echoing off of the stone walls.

The skies above the island were covered in clouds, with very little to no sunlight being able to pierce them. The sound of the heavy rain almost drowned out the sounds of the never ending work being done.

While some businesses like flower shops or clothing stores closed some time ago, farmers still tended to their livestock, teachers taught their children in the safety of their classrooms, factories were still busy, and buses along with lorrys and trains still ran like clockwork to make sure people and materials make it from A to B.

A little thing like rain would hardly be enough to bring a vital industry like a railway to a standstill.

The people on this island depend on the trains running even in less than ideal weather. Trains brought food to stores, they helped deliver construction materials, and so on.

On Sodor the NWR is considered one of the most important lifelines on the island, being responsible for the most person and goods travel around the island, which means that the island’s engines are also kept extremely busy.

The locomotives of Sir Topham Hatt’s fleet enjoyed working in this type of weather as much as anyone forced to complete their work outside in this weather. To put it in their words, the engines find this downpour to be extremely bothersome and one engine in particular was having a pretty bad day.

Near the island’s shore on the way to the busy harbour, the train exited the tunnel and rumbled slowly through the countryside. The sound of the rain pouring down onto the rails was interrupted by the sound of hissing steam and the sound of complaints coming from a long line of trucks.

The rumbling of the train was louder than usual, this was probably because it was being pulled by the Railway’s number 5 engine.

Smoke was billowing through his funnel in thick grey clouds as he was fighting the storm. His wheels occasionally slipped on the wet rails irritating the already aggravated engine further.

Rain pelted his boiler, the sound reverberating through his chassis and making him uncomfortable. The trucks behind him groaned and whined further, they were not happy about their wood getting wet and the water getting in their eyes among other protests.

James was hardly in a better condition, being at the front of the train he was going head first into the elements.

“I’m staring to understand where Henry is coming from” grumbled the red engine. He squinted trying to see through the watery cascade. At this point he was relying on his crew to keep a good lookout. He could barely keep his eyes open with the constant stream of water assaulting his face.

“Well it's the last train, afterwards we are getting you home” His driver called out through the storm, patting his engine’s side affectionately.

Even James’s crew couldn’t avoid getting soaked in this weather, they had raincoats crudely hung over their usual work uniforms.

They wore gloves and rain boots, basically anything that would help them work in an engine cab that unfortunately for them was not completely closed off. While they didn't feel the brunt of the rain, they were still plenty soaked.

The driver looked out of James’s front window to the track in front of them, keeping watch for an incoming signal. The fireman grunted with every shovel of coal that he fed to his engine.

Said engine was exhausted and frustrated. He had just about enough and had half a mind to just find a nice dry siding to wait out the storm.

But the lack of sidings and being out it the open with little to no cover threw that idea out right away. He would be petty enough to try it, even risk angering his crew but it wouldn't be the first time.

He could live with getting chewed out by his crew and maybe even Sir Topham Hatt but he knew the other engines would never let him live it down.

Especially when he like many of the others relentlessly teased Henry when he was severely punished for hiding in a tunnel because of rain. Rain like this...

It was bad enough having to pull a goods train and everybody that knows the red engine knows that he is not the biggest fan of goods trains.

What was almost worse was that he also had to work in this weather going at a painfully slow speed. Making it seem like the journey took forever and ever without an ending in sight. It already felt like hours to the red engine and he was eager to get rid of this train.

His grumbling continued till the train finally made it to the Harbor. James sighed in relief, it almost looked like he released a breath that he was holding even if he does not breath in the traditional human sense.

The already bad weather turned into a raging thunderstorm. The already loud docks became so much louder than usual. The workers were scrambling to finish the most essential work before bunkering down to let the storm pass.

Cranky was busy unloading a ship. It was the last load and he wanted to finish this before the storm picked up. The wind picked up swaying the cargo Cranky was holding. The grumpy crane grumbled louder than James did a while ago but managed to bring the load down onto a flatbed safely. The crane grunted in the red engine’s direction. Its the most friendly greeting he was capable of.

Speaking of the red engine, when James pulled in with his goods he barely heard the wheasy chuffing of an old engine. With a loud shreak the dockyard engine named Peter pull up beside him.

He was small, green and had S&M painted on his livery along with his number. An old boxtank probably older than the railway itself.

He and his brothers can still be seen working on the railway. Peter often helped out here at the docks while his brother Niel worked in the mines near Crovans Gate.

The youngest brother Todd has been in repair for quite a while now but could be spotted now and again usually spotted near Kirk Machan and Peel Godred.

James does not know them as well as other engines do like Edward, Rheneas or Skarloey for example, but from what he did gather from stories and from his own accounts with them although few, he would say that Niel is the more rational and calmer older brother and Peter is the loud and mischievous brother while Todd is very much not a peoples or engines engine. The last part the red engine heard from Peter himself.

Speaking of said engine he seemed to be enjoying the storm taking a deep relaxing breath and exhaling loudly.

He obviously didn't seem to mind the weather as much as James or any other engine for that matter that was crazy enough to be out in these conditions.

Through the business of the docks and the howling of the wind James heard, “PERFECT WORKIN’ WEATHER INNAE IT?” the old steamer yelled loudly over the noise with a grin.

The mischievous old engine especially seemed to like to tease James ever since he had been regularly tasked with taking trains to the harbour.

Poor old thing probably does not have many engines to socialize with so any engine that spends too much time at the docks would be his next victim. Still, James fond it difficult to figure out if Peter actually liked him or not since it definitely seemed like he enjoyed teasing James the most over these past few months.

“NO, QUITE THE OPPOSITE!” James snarked back making the old engine laugh loudly, either he didn't care that the red engine was giving him attitude or he just really did not care.

His crew jumped out of his cab and left toward a set of small buildings, and a few men came to uncouple James from his train.

“TH RAIN HAES A’BODY DROOCHED, AH AINLIE HAWP THAT NAE TAE MANY FOWK GIT SICK. IT WID MEAN MAIR WORK FUR TH REST O’ US YE KEN?” Peter said as he watched the workmen around him scramble, some even slip and fall into a puddle causing the old boxtank to snort loudly before falling into another fit of laughter.

James had to agree with Peter’s statement, he dreaded having even more work on top of the workload he already has. He was severely overworked, everybody was even the cheerful peter even if he didn't let it show all too much.

It would be a fruitless task to try to find an engine that wasn't making unusual noises due to wear and tear. The last few years have been taxing for both engine and human alike and James just wanted it to start letting up.

Thunder crashed, and the downpour became more intense. On top of that a layer of fog has also started to form. The red engine could barely make out the rails in front of him and tried squinting harder with little to no avail. He was wondering how much longer his stay here would take.

With a clank from his chain, one of the workers finally uncoupled the train from him and Peter drove back to take the noisy train away.

When the sounds of the trucks constant moaning started to fade off he looked over to the many buildings that littered around the harbour. He saw his crew talking to the dock manager in what he assumed to be his office. The red engine just hoped if they were able to leave here soon that he’d be able to-

“SEUMAS?! YE DO KEN THA YE WON'T MAKE IT BACK TO TIDMOUTH TIL THIS STORM PASSES AYE?!” Peter yelled again darting out of the fog to stand next to the red engine again.

The boxtanks brakes squealing so loud that the entire harbour nearly went deaf. When James recovered from the noise he just groaned loudly, but not at the name, he knew Seumas means something akin to his name in Gaelic. Peter has been calling him that since he first met him at the docks.

No what upset James at this moment however was the prospect of having to spend the night in a place that smells of fish, salt water and smoke from ships.

Thunder crashed loudly again at that moment almost as if mocking him to which James snarled up at the large black and grey sky making the mischievous box tank laugh again. James’s driver and fireman returned, running through the rain with and hastily climbing into his cab, cursing under their breath at their condition before the driver leaned out to address his engine. “Well then, old boy, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that there will be no more work until later tonight.”

James already quirked his brow, wary of what will be said next. “The bad news is that we wont be going anywhere today so the only place we can put you in for now to get you out of the rain is the goods shed” his driver said with a shrug.

James was indignant about the idea at first, but at the sound of thunder he quickly reconsidered, a roof over his smoke box is better than being outside in the rain after all. His crew checked his gauges, stoked his fire and put James in reverse. Slowly he was moved down the track and toward the goods shed.

His crew turned him around with a set of Y rails and backed him up into the shed. Slowly the sound of the rain bouncing off of his form ceased.

The shed protected the three of them from the strong winds that made the two soaked men start to freeze. Water ran down the red engine’s chassis and steam hissed from him like a sigh of relief at finally being able to get some rest.

The red engine groaned and creaked when he finally managed to come down from the stressful journey. Even the loud bustling of the docks ceased as the work men went inside to wait out the storm. All that could be heard now was the rain, the howling wind, and the occasional clap of thunder.

His crew came out of his cab, shucking their rain jackets and boots, squeezing whatever water they had out of their gloves, socks and other articles of clothing. With whatever rags they had they started drying themselves as best as they could.

James knew that his crew will have to find a way to warm up soon to prevent sickness from coming to them. James shivered uncomfortably as his temperature started to slowly drop.

Being a steam locomotive he cannot get any human illnesses but the cold water on his chassis still gave him unpleasant chills.

Luckily for him his crew knows their engine. Once the men were somewhat dry they hopped onto James’s cab where they had a box with spare rags and towels. Both men grabbed a handful of rags and began to dry off their engine. James looked his crew appreciatively, he knew they didn't have to do this for him.

“You did good today Jim” His driver, Vance Jordan, said to his engine, giving him a gentle pat on the buffer before climbing onto his frame and drying off his face.

“Thank you, Vance, and you too Wallace” Wallace Peterson, the fireman, gave his favourite engine an affectionate pat on the boiler and went to dry off James’s tender.

The red engine, though he can be vain sometimes, knows that he is most fortunate to have these two men as his driver and fireman.

Most relationships between crews and their engines don't really go beyond work, especially when it came to James.

Now he does know that this rule does not apply to all, especially when it comes to the locomotives working on this island in particular, but ever since James can remember, many of the railway staff found him to be difficult.

Yet despite him being a bit trying, he has managed to form a bond with these two oddballs, a bond unlike one he has ever had with his previous crews.

James was then reminded of how old he truly was. He has given engines like Edward and Peter a hard time by mocking their age, but sometimes he remembers that he isn't as far away from them in age as he often acted.

In his lifetime he has seen many people come and go, including drivers and firemen that had worked for the railway for years... worked with him for years. He truly loved all the crews he has ever had throughout his long years in service, even if the feeling was not necessarily mutual in a few cases.

This thought made him remember his previous driver. The red engines face dropped a little when he looked back at that time not so long ago.

Yes, James was even fond of the more strict Laurence Brown Jr.

He worked with him in 1930s till his retirement. Their relationship was marked with fight after fight. They often had more yelling matches than they sometimes got work done. But their relationship had other sides too.

One wouldnt think so at first based off of their usual interactions but Lawrence was a driver that stood up for his engine. There were times that he often got into near physical confrontations with disgruntled railway staff when there had been an incident involving him and the red engine.

James remembered the times when he regularly had night terrors. Lawrence would spend the night with him, he would talk but he would be there for him at least.

It was similar the other way around, at least that is what the red engine likes to think.

The more time Lawrence spent with him the more he came out of his shell, as more and more time passed, the wall he built around himself came down, which lead to him becoming the Lawrence the red engine knows today, a married man with two daughters and two grandchildren.

He still was not much of a talker and he scowled more than he smiled but James helped prove to everyone that there was more to him than what he showed on the outside...

But these two men, the ones with him now making small talk and drying him off. They talked to him. They made it a point to take care of him.

They also went out of their way to make sure he is alright, and not just if he has been in an accident. They not only wanted to know their engine, they wanted to know James. They wanted to know who he was at his core and what makes him who he is.

He was not just some engine to them.

Even when there was conflict, they would talk it out and find a way to solve the problem. Even if he was feeling stressed or overwhelmed or just generally in a bad mood, these two men would somehow get him to open up and talk to them. Its different than what he was used to. This in turn made him want to get to know them for who they are as well.

Normally a crews job is to run their engines and make sure that they and their engine do not get hurt.

Anything more isn't considered necessary to the job, the engine’s crew is not there to be emotional support and most of the engine staff operate like that.

James also had drivers and firemen like that, so the fact that he managed to land with two people who decided that he is worth the effort, did make the red engine feel more as an individual and not just that vain red engine that other railway staff sometimes talk about. James practically purred as his crew dried him off, When Vance went to dry his engines face he was extra careful drying the scar on the engine’s face.

It wasn't a really bad scar, but there is a visibly darker area on the one side of his face that upon closer inspection looks warped and strained.

He can still feel this weird stretch of it when he smiles or makes other over the top expressions. On especially cold nights he can sometimes feel a phantom pain like sensation which is often a cause of great discomfort.

Any real pain has long since faded but it still has a tendency to reminds him that it is still there and though the accident was years ago, the red engine is still finds himself being self-conscious about it.

Vance, seeing James’s, crestfallen face, knew that his engine was overthinking again and patted his engine gently on the cheek effectively stopping his spiral.

He then finished drying off the rest off his face.

James looked down at his driver with a sincere smile, if he could he would lean into the touch. He was most fortunate indeed to have such good friends as his crew.

When Vance finished, he sat on James’s buffer beam and looked out into the pouring rain. Wallace joined them after he finished up as well and the two men unpacked some of their leftover food.

They ate for a while in silence, enjoying the serenity of the storm. They were in a dry place protected from rain and wind.

Their engine was still warm, their clothes started to dry and they enjoyed a home made meal after a long hard journey.

Wallace, while still munching looked at his sandwich and then gestured to James, holding up what is left of his meal, basically asking the red engine if he wanted it. James opened his mouth comically wide as an answer, making his fireman laugh as he chucked the sandwich in the engine’s mouth. The three of them stayed like this for a while, just relaxing.

James and his crew spent what felt like hours talking, about the horrible weather, some of the other engines, James’s dislike of goods trains, bootlaces and anything that could make his paint dirty.

The storm raged on outside with barely any sign of stopping, the only real difference was that the sky was starting to turn darker, and the lamps of the dockyard turned on.

As time wore on and his crew was getting cold, they considered finding warmer shelter.

Being the mere mortal regular human beings they are, they instantly felt the unpleasantness that came with the cool of the night, only made worse by their still damp clothing.

James could see his crew shivering, they unfortunately did not have a warm fire that heated his body, he did find the cold unpleasant as well but these temperatures could do no nothing to a ‘being’ like him.

Wallace rubbed his hands together, blowing hot air onto his cold fingertips, he looked up at his engine then addressed Vance.

“We’d have-to drop James's fire if we leave”. He said with a cold shiver.

“But we still have another train to take tonight and firing him up again would be a hassle”. The young fireman groaned in frustration and Vance couldn't suppress the sly grin that appeared on his face, obviously enjoying Wallace’s misery a little too much though he was hardly in any better condition.

The young man eyeballed the staff house further up the line, he really looked forward to going to a place that had proper heating.

“Plus I don't really feel like being alone in the cold, y know, not that pleasant”. James decided put in.

He knew they did not forget him but he still wanted them to be made very much aware that he was also very much uncomfortable with the situation.

They couldn't just leave his fire unattended. But if they put out his fire and left, both men knew their engine would not let them hear the end of it.

Wallace sighed in defeat. “He’s got a point, Vance”.

“Well, I don't feel like freezing out here any longer than I have to. I’m sure the both of you understand where I am coming from.” said Vance in return.

They thought about it for a while not coming up with much, and it was only getting colder. James did not want his crew to get sick, looking around the docks for a possible solution.

The red engine than also looked up to the staff house.

“Do you think the staff house has supplies?” he asked the men. The two looked at him in question, then he elaborated. “Just an idea but… we still have a train right?”.

Vance and Wallace nodded. “Putting out my fire now and then firing me up again in a few hours would just be extra work now right?”

Again they nodded.

“So here is my idea, one of you goes to check if there are supplies you could use like warm clothes, pillows and blankets, if so than you could borrow them and get comfortable in my cab. There you would be able to stay warm and keep an eye on my fire. If there is really nothing than I’m sure there are workmen in there taking shelter, pretty sure you could get one of them to maintain my fire while you two warm up in the staff house”.

The crew looked at each other and then back to their engine.

“I can’t come up with anything better at the moment” answered Vance. Wallace nodded in agreement.

The young fireman smiled up at James and patted him gently on the buffer.

“Hey Jim, we wont leave you alone for long. Even if we stay in the staff house. It’ll only be till we have warmed ourselves up alright? And I WILL make sure that we get someone to look after your fire, that's for sure”. James did not doubt that statement, and the way his driver sighed with exasperation, neither did he.

“So, do you want to-” Before Vance could finish, Wallace grabbed his raincoat and took off into the rain yelling. “I’LL BE BACK IN A MO!”, and ran toward the Staff house.

He had pulled the coat up over his head to try to protect him from the rain. He jumped over sleepers and splashed into puddles before opening the old wooden door with a screech and disappearing into the staff house.

James and Vance waited, staring back out at the pouring rain in silence till they hear the running footsteps of Wallace clumsily going through puddles, desperately trying to get back to them.

The young fireman looked... poofier, that would be a valid description of the young man’s current appearance. Like some kid trying to smuggle possums home under his raincoat without getting caught. The resemblance making the red engine snicker to himself slightly.

Wallace waddled up to them with a big victorious smile on his face, opening his coat and proudly holding up the goods he acquired.

“Guess who managed to get us some blankets to keep warm aaaand… I found this!” After he tosses the blankets over to Vance, he pulls out what looks like a book.

“Okay? And that is?” said James.

“This, my friend, is an address book that the manager let me borrow. There are railways and other companies that are in our supply chain, for example on the mainland, Spain and France”.

James and Vance just stared back with blank expressions, the latter raised his eyebrow in question and gestured with his hand for Wallace to continue.

“So I have an idea, just something I thought of when I saw this”. He gestured to the address book. He continued, “Do you remember old Turner?”

“Barely” said Vance.

James followed, “Wasn't he once a driver on the Culdee fell Railway?” the red engine remembered the man vaguely.

He was a strange man, the type to speak in riddles and a sucker for old folk-tales and legends. The man probably regularly spent time with old Bailey or something, he thought.

Wallace continued, “He used to drive Wilfred, but he suffered an injury and he had to retire. During the war he served in the Royal Navy and during that time he wrote an American soldier that he met in a hospital while on medical leave. The American gave him his address and they have ben pen pals ever since. They got to know each other over the letters and became friends. They continued writing even as the war ended and met again in America soon after”.

There was a bit of silence after that.

Then James spoke.

“So, this is what I got from that story, you want to pass the time writing a letter?”

Wallace nods vigorously.

“And you want to send it somewhere randomly?”

Wallace nods even more vigorously.

���I truly mean no offence by this but isn't this a waste of effort? What are the chances someone would even write back?” said James sceptically.

“Plus, what would we even say?” said Vance, having a similar stance to James.

“It... It would kinda give us something to do, I don't know, and also like meet someone new? To pass the time, y know? And we could, uh… write to an Engine! And their Crew! The Address book has railway companies in it and that way James can also help with the letter, come on, it could be fun!” Wallace was obviously adamant about the idea, trying everything in his power to convince his friends of his idea.

“To be fair Vance, we really have nothing else better to do at the moment.” said James. Vance did not really give in just yet.

“Wallace I’m not against the idea in principle, I just see some problems with it. One, Old Turner already encountered the American in the hospital as you said and exchanged addresses, we just have an address book of railway companies among others that have business with the NWR, there is no actual ‘Person’ to write to unless you want to befriend a bunch of managers and controllers. The second problem is, if we send this letter to a country like Spain, because none of us speak Spanish, there would be a language barrier. Thirdly, a random letter from a complete stranger? Even if we did manage to reach the ‘target receivers’ why would they even want to write back?”

By this point Wallace’s excited demeanour changed to one of disappointment.

“Well, I didn't think it that far through obviously, I just thought it would be something fun that the three of us could do together, something outside of work that we partake in you know? You never know I mean somebody could be interested in making a new friend”.

“Just imagine for a moment Wallace that we write MULTIPLE letters, send them to all these different addresses throughout the mainland and Europe, someone reads it AND understands it AND is interested enough to write back and pursue a possible friendship. How likely do you think it is that that would happen. You must admit, even you know that most if not all the letters would come back or get thrown out”. Vance was not trying to hurt the younger man’s feelings both James and Wallace knew that.

That's just the way Vance was, a no beating around the bush kind of man. The kind of man to point out the problem, no sugar coating.

Both James and Wallace learned not to take offence to the man's occasional bluntness, though even that took some time.

James though, even if he did think it would most likely me a waste of time (and paper), saw no harm in it. Plus he really did not like seeing the young fireman pout.

“Like Wallace said, its just something we could do to pass the time together. Something could come out of it or not. Let us not get our hopes up”.

James saw Vance really take a moment to think it over before finally relenting. “Alright, fine by me, but I’m not paying for the stamps”.

Wallace pumped his fist in victory “Don't worry! I’ll take care of it!”

The men made themselves comfortable in James’s cab.

The young fireman wrapped himself in his blanket and scooted closer to Vance.

He stoked James’s fire and fed him some coal.

He pulled out a pen and paper and used the book as a hard surface to write on.

“Well Mr. Peterson, how should we start” Vance said trying to get into a comfortable laying position close to James’s warm firebox.

Wallace tapped the pen against his lip before asking James. The red engine was a bit surprised at being addressed. He had very little experience in letter writing and he’d think that Wallace would know that.

“Look, let's just start off by writing down what we would say to a ‘potential’ pen pal and then think about where to send it.”

Vance looked down at the paper and pen on Wallace’s lap. The young fireman started off the letter with introducing himself, Vance and James. From there everything was easier, the three of them talked laughed and discussed about the letter, each bringing something to the table and having a say about its contents.

As it was their first letter, and also the introductory letter at that, it needed to get the essence of these three unique individuals just right.

The friends legitimately thought about it and worked it over for what seemed like hours. The tossed attempts that did not make the cut occasionally made it to the red engine’s firebox along with the occasional shovel of coal to keep his fire going.

They ended up spending quite some time the letter.

As Wallace finally presented his final draft it was starting to get dark. The rain let up a bit and Vance checked his watch. It was almost time to leave to get their next train.

Wallace stashed the letter away safely while Vance folded up the blankets and handed them to his Fireman to take back to the staff house. While Wallace was gone Vance looked over his engine, he checked his gauges, running gear etc.

By the time Wallace returned James was properly steaming and ready to leave.

The docks were coming to life again as the storm left for another part of the island. James slowly made his way out of the goods shed and made his way to leave the docks. Peter whistled him a friendly goodbye as he left and he responded with his own whistle in turn.

On the way to their next train Wallace turned to Vance. “First thing I’m going to do after this train is call in a favour from a friend who prints newspapers!”.

Vance looked over to the fireman in confusion.

“Why?” he asked.

“I’m going to need several copies if I want better chances of this working right?” he smiled at the exasperated driver.

James just had to laugh, he couldn’t wait to see where this would take him and his crew.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Part 4 of the Steddie Vegas AU! With a very special thanks to @estrellami-1 for fixing all my mistakes ❤️

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3

The concert was incredible! Steve didn't appreciate the band in the way his three companions did, but Metallica had put on a great show. The fans were having a ball! Even when they started what Eddie had called a mosh pit, which he'd been sceptical of at first until Eddie invited Steve to join him in it and he realised he'd never felt exhilaration like it, not with both feet on the ground anyway.

Overall, he'd had a fantastic time, a better time than he thought he'd have when they were standing in line for the venue. The fans surrounding them were dressed the same as they were, but it was almost like they could sense he didn't belong, like they could smell it on him. It wasn't like they were hostile or anything, everyone he met was super friendly, he supposed he just wasn't used to being a newbie or the odd one out.

And although very loud music really wasn't his favourite thing, he'd enjoyed being there, he'd delighted in the way Eddie lit up from the inside as soon as the first beat kicked in like all his dreams were coming true. Savoured the feeling of Eddie's hand in his, or his arm around his waist, or his legs around his neck from when a particularly tall guy had temporarily stood in front of them and Eddie was standing on his tiptoes desperately trying to see the stage, to Steve it just felt like the obvious solution! The finger to the eyeball wasn't all that fun and Eddie didn't seem too keen on being nine feet tall, but the song ended and the guy moved, and Eddie was happy enough back on the ground at Steve’s side, grinning ear-to-ear at him. Steve relished the smile Eddie sent him whenever he would recognise a song from one of Robin's many mixtapes, the first one he knew so well he was even able to sing along.

And Chris and Robin were nothing short of adorable! They spent the whole night wrapped around each other, singing together into an imaginary microphone like kids at a sleepover, dancing and screaming and jumping up and down. Stumbling home together, hand in hand, Robin so obviously falling more and more in love with every passing moment.

Honestly, it was one of the best nights of his life, revelling in the giddiness his three companions were exuding, stopping for delicious street food and heading back to Eddie and Chris' suite for the night, it was just... perfect.

Eddie's hair up his nose was the only thing that'd disturbed him from his blissful slumber. It'd been a while since he'd been the big spoon and he'd forgotten where he was supposed to put his face, and by the time he'd finally found a comfortable position, he and his stomach were wide awake.

Eddie was still sleeping peacefully, not that Steve was surprised; they hadn't exactly made sleep a priority, but it did make extracting himself from the bed all the more tricky. Not that Eddie cared, he slept like the dead. He didn't even stir as Steve wiggled his arm free from underneath him, he just kept snoring softly, still all snuggled up to the pillow he was hugging, a content smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

He knew the kitchenette was filled with goodies, he'd seen it all himself that night when Eddie had been snackish, but he was so hungry at this point he couldn't work out what he wanted and was now wishing he'd had something when Eddie had offered. He was rummaging through the cabinets when Chrissy came bounding through the front door dressed in her gym gear.

"Morning, hon!" she greeted cheerily, "Surprised you're up," she teased with a wink, making Steve grin. "Is His Royal Highness awake?" she asked, gesturing towards their bedroom door.

Steve couldn't keep the endeared smile off of his face as he thought about Eddie's face, all happy and relaxed, fast asleep and snuggled up. "Nah, still sleeping like a log," he muttered affectionately, absentmindedly rummaging through the cabinets.

Chrissy giggled, rolling her eyes with faux exasperation, "Make pancakes," she advised. "The smell of pancakes is the only thing that'll get him outta bed before noon," she informed him fondly, walking over and pulling the box out of the only cabinet Steve hadn't searched yet.

Pulling out the necessary implements and ingredients to tackle the task, he gave Chrissy a soft smile, "Thanks for the tip, the only thing I've found that works on Robin is the promise of waffles." Their new partner's similarities made them both giggle, "Speaking of, I said I'd take her to Rachel today, if you wanna join us?"

Chrissy's eyes lit up, "Really?" she asked disbelievingly, like maybe Steve was joking. Steve tried not to let his brows furrow, just smiled and nodded enthusiastically. She bounced excitedly on her toes, "That sounds so awesome! Thank you, Steve, you're so sweet!" she said, giving him a hug before heading towards her and Robin's room, her ponytail swinging wildly,"I'll just go take a shower and then I'll try to wake her."

"Good luck," Steve joked with a wave as she disappeared behind her bedroom door. God! That girl!

Being left alone in someone else's place should feel awkward, getting caught searching through their cabinets should too, but it just didn't. The four of them got along so well, it felt like they'd known each other forever. Even if in reality it'd been a little over a day, they each had easy smiles and deep affection for one another, and Steve so easily could see this life for the four of them. Sharing a space, he and Chrissy waking up early and maybe exercising together, making breakfast for the four of them, or maybe brunch if Eddie and Chrissy were going to be working late. Going to work with Robin, coming home to spend evenings together, watching movies and eating pizza, going to watch Eddie perform, going dancing together, maybe even…

He was dragged out of his musings by Eddie shuffling out of the bedroom, hooking his leg around Steve's hips and hoisting himself up to attach himself koala-style to Steve's back, "Good morning, Sunshine," Steve greeted cheerily, rebalancing himself.

"Hmmnph," came Eddie’s muffled response, huffing hot air all over the side of Steve's neck. It tickled, sending tingles down his body and making him feel giddy.

"I'll take that as good morning," Steve teased, kissing Eddie's forearm where it rested around his shoulder.

Eddie raised his chin to kiss Steve's neck, "Mornin'. Pancakes?" he asked, groggy and sleep-gruff.

Steve tried to dampen the grin on his face, but he just couldn't. Eddie was fucking adorable, all sleep rumpled and affectionate. Not that he wasn't affectionate when he was awake, it just felt amazing to have someone who was subconsciously affectionate towards him. "Yep, pancakes, especially for you," Steve declared, and when his stomach rumbled loudly, added, "And for me, 'cause I'm hungry," he admitted with a chuckle.

Eddie hummed fondly. Steve could feel Eddie's smile being pressed into the back of his neck and couldn't repress his own, nor the butterflies fluttering around in his stomach.

Steve wasn't usually one for it, spluttering words was usually Robin's forte, but he found in that moment the words just started spilling out of his mouth without really bypassing his brain, "I'm taking the girls to Rachel today, maybe you could come too? If you felt like it, you don't have to. It'd be amazing to spend the day with you, but this is your holiday. I get it if you don't wanna come-"

"Sweetheart," Eddie interrupted, gently turning Steve's head to face him, "Stop talking. I'd love to," he added, smiling so tenderly it made Steve want to burst.

"Okay," Steve murmured, blushing under Eddie's intense gaze and turning back to the pancakes as an excuse to hide it.

Eddie settled back against him, just watching him as he added the batter to the pan, flipped the pancake and slid it out onto the steadily growing pile. And although the monotony of the task was relaxing, feeling Eddie's intense gaze and his heartbeat thrumming against his back was so intimate, it thrilled Steve. He snuck a sneaky glance out of his peripheral, trying desperately not to think about what had Eddie so deep in thought.

He was losing his battle with just outright asking when the moment was abruptly interrupted by Robin barging into the living space, "There better be pancakes for me, Dingus," she yelled unnecessarily, flopping herself down on one of the sofas.

"Always," Steve called back. "Rachel today!" he reminded her, kind of excited to do something solely for his best friend for once. They did lots of things together, things they both enjoyed, but this was something just for her, something she'd wanted to do for a long time, and he was going to get to witness her in her full element. It was going to be like taking a kid to Disneyland for the first time, and honestly, he couldn't wait.

Eddie dismounted with a kiss to Steve's shoulder as Steve turned off the heat, collected the stack of pancakes and the empty plates, and headed over to the coffee table. It shocked Steve when he turned around to go back and found Eddie had Eddie grabbed the cutlery and the plate of fruits and syrups, so Steve wouldn't have to go back for them. Other than Robin, he'd never had someone who just did things like that. El and Dustin would do things when asked, Hop was the free-for-all type, everything you could possibly need already lived on the dining table and Claudia never let anyone help her do anything, mainly because her ex said some pretty nasty and uncalled for bullshit when he left. But Eddie had just helped, just like that. Steve had stood there gawking so long, Eddie just pecked him on the cheek and passed him to put the stuff down on the coffee table.

Robin was excitedly bouncing around the sofas, so much so both boys had to dodge her as they found a comfy spot around the table. Not that either of them minded, they both had affectionate grins for her childlike excitement. 

"Yes! Oh my god, I can't wait! Eddie, did you know..." she started, and Steve had to admit he kinda tuned her out a bit, he knew it wouldn't be anything he hadn't heard before, and honestly, watching the two of them interact was far more fascinating than facts about a small town.

They were amazing together, Eddie listened to Robin with rapt attention, nodding in all the appropriate places, asking questions that sent Robin deeper into a tangent instead of desperately trying to get her back on topic like some people did with her. Eddie only ever seemed to shift his attention away from her for long enough to put more pancake in his mouth or to beam softly back at Steve when he'd catch him staring.

And Robin seemed to genuinely enjoy spending time with Eddie. At the concert, he and Chrissy had gone off to the bathroom together, only to come back to Eddie and Robin dancing! He'd never seen her dance with another guy before, hell Robin would barely even dance with him, but somehow Eddie seemed to have cast a spell over her, it wasn't even forced dancing either, if anything he was pretty sure she was the one dancing with Eddie, and she was actually having fun doing it!

Steve had seen her fake her way through a friendship with the odd few people Steve had contemplated dating since Billy, but Robin, for all her wonderful qualities wasn't that good of an actor, and her friendship was far too important to fuck up. For all her eccentricities, he trusted her instincts. But she smiled genuine smiles and got into deep conversations and laughed raucously with Eddie. He'd probably be jealous if he didn't know beyond a doubt she was his soulmate and if he wasn't so smitten with Eddie himself.

Chrissy had arrived a short time after Robin began chatting away, wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown and a hair towel, but other than eating, she was similarly lost in the same world as he was. Steve liked that about her, that she was just as beguiled with his best friend as he was with hers. Because Robin deserved nothing but the best, and somehow he just knew that Chrissy was the kind of person who’d give her nothing less.

And as weird as it seemed, she felt like someone he knew. It felt almost like looking in a mirror when he looked at her, like when he watched her watching Robin, he just knew that she felt the same way about Robin as he felt about Eddie, like he could physically see her emotions flowing across the room.

Watching the three of them, he finally understood what it meant to feel content. He could've sat in his warm spot by the window watching them chatting and smiling and laughing all day. He wished he could take a picture to be able to remember it forever, but he didn't have a camera and unfortunately needed clean clothes and to pack a bag of essentials for a trip to the desert. So when all the pancakes were gone and the plates were finally empty, Steve gathered them and took them over to the kitchen sink, Chrissy following him, immediately taking the task of washing up off of his hands, and shooing him away the same way Claudia would, stating she’d already showered and Eddie and Robin were still deep in conversation, and she was happy to do it.

"Are you sure?" he asked her quietly. She just nodded, keeping one ear tilted toward the conversation going off in the lounge. Steve smiled gratefully and thanked her, disappearing off into the bedroom to steal the other ridiculously fluffy dressing gown from the back of the bathroom door. Wrapping it firmly around himself and checking he had his room key, he tried to wait for a lull in their conversation, but they were deep down a rabbit hole, so he gave up calling to the other two, "I'm gonna go take a shower and to get some clean clothes, meet back here in an hour?"

The conversation skidded to a halt as Eddie screeched, "An hour! What'll take an hour?" looking bewildered that anyone had even moved without his notice.

Steve was about to reply when Robin tutted and rolled her eyes, "His hair," she grumbled. She'd always hated how long he spent on haircare, her eyes had nearly bugged out when she'd been with him when he'd first bought new products. It didn't faze him, though, even now with all three of them giving him the same bemused look.

Steve headed for the door, shrugging, "Some of us aren't blessed with naturally perfect locks, sue me," he yelled as he left, letting the door fall shut behind him, heading downstairs to his room for a shower, taking the stairs for the same reason he’d borrowed the dressing gown instead of getting dressed: he didn't want anyone to think he was doing the walk of shame. People strolled around the hotel in the fluffy white robes, heading to the pool or the spa or even to breakfast, but wandering around in nighttime clothes with last night's eyeliner still smudged under your eyes said things about his night he didn't want anyone to think.

Luckily, he made it all the way to his room without bumping into anyone, sliding the key into the lock and shutting himself inside with a sigh. The light on the answering machine was flashing again, he knew it wouldn’t be his parents, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was a lawyer. Steve pushed himself off the door and wandered over to hit the button. Thankfully it was just El. “Stevie! Dad’s trying to book a flight, so unless you want him crashing your sex holiday, I suggest you call. him. back! Love you!” Beep. Shit! He sat on the edge of the bed and called the cabin, it rang and rang but no one answered, he tried the station, but Flo just told him Hop wasn't on shift, but she’d let him know he called when she saw him. Steve just kept hoping he wasn’t too late! Claud! She’ll know how to get a hold of him! The phone rang a few times before Dustin picked up, “Hullo!”

“Dustin! It’s me.”

“Steve-o! Got my book?”

“What? No, not yet!” Steve snapped, “Your mom home?”

“Nope! She’s buying supplies for our epic tournament! Why?”

“Need to know where Hop is. Can you get El on the walkie?”

“Nope!”

“Why not?”

“Why haven’t you got my book yet?”

“I will, alright! I just haven’t had time to go shopping!”

“Like brother, like sister,” Dustin muttered and Steve could hear him shaking his head against the phone.

“Huh?”

“The reason I can’t get El on the walkie is because she’s too busy sucking face with Max! Which I’m assuming, and please don’t actually confirm, is the so-called reason you’re too busy to get my book!” Dustin grumbled.

“You’d be sucking face too if your girlfriend didn’t live a couple thousand miles away!” Steve points out.

“Touché! Hang on!” Steve heard Dustin put the phone on the counter, then the rustling sounds of him moving around and the static of the walkie as he picks the phone back up, “Max! Code red. Pick up!”

There was a pause and then Steve could just about hear Max shouting, “I swear to God, Henderson, this better be important! I’m talking life or death! Or you will. be. sorry!” 

Steve couldn't help chuckling to himself, no-one liked to be interrupted mid-make-out, but Max always had to take it to the next level. 

Dustin swallowed audibly before squeaking out, “Steve needs to know where Hop is!”

There was a pause and then El had the walkie, “Are you talking to Steve?”

“Yeah, he’s on the phone, where’s Hop?” Dustin enquired.

“He’s at Joyce’s, tell him dad’s flipping his shit!”

“I know!” Steve answered, even though chances are El can’t hear him.

“He says he knows!” Dustin repeated for him, because although he’s a little shit, he’s a good kid really.

“Okay, tell him I love him!” El yelled into the walkie.

“I’m not saying that!” Dustin huffed.

“Tell her I love her too!” Steve returned with a grin, because he does, but knowing it has the added bonus of annoying Dustin too makes it all the sweeter to say.

“I’m not saying that either!” Dustin squawked indignantly.

“You’re not saying what?” El asked at the same time as Steve adds, “Okay, shitheads, I love you all, I’m going to talk to Hop.” And just before hanging up, he hears Dustin mumble into the walkie, “He said he loves us!” making Steve grin wildly.

Luckily he still remembers the Byers’ number from his babysitting days. He punches in the code and then the number and swings his feet by the bed while it rings.

“What?” Hop snapped. Apparently, Max and El aren’t the only ones I interrupted!

“Hop, it’s Steve.”

“Fucking hell, kid! Where’ve you been?” Hop grumbled, but it had relief in it.

“Sorry. Vegas is wild!” Steve replied, as an excuse and an explanation.

“Too damn right! Did you really get married?” he asked, sounding kind of disappointed.

“Yep. I was too drunk to even remember doing it,” Steve admitted, sounding kind of disappointed himself, not that he did it, just that he doesn't really remember doing it.

“Joining the lonely and divorced club, then?” Hop only half joked. Steve vaguely remembers yelling that at Hop once upon a time after he’d broken up one of Steve’s parties, sending everyone home and leaving him in the silence of that massive empty house. He hadn’t meant it, doesn’t mean Hop hadn’t felt it, definitely gave him the right to tease Steve with it.

“No!” Steve asserted quickly, “Not if I can help it, no,” he confides because if anyone would understand it’d be Hop. And he did.

“Must be special,” Hop wondered aloud.

“So special! I could talk about him all day, but I’m taking Bobbie to Rachel today, I have to go,” Steve whined, because he really does want to stay on the phone with his dad and gush about his husband!

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go. Just be careful, okay, kid?” Hop muttered affectionately.

“I will,” Steve assured him, “Love you!” he added, because he did.

“Love you, too” Hop replied before hanging up.

---------

Steve sighed heavily as he put the phone down, the silence of the room ringing loudly in his ears. He hated it, got up to turn the shower on, to warm the water and to fill the emptiness he felt now he’s finally well and truly alone. He absentmindedly twisted his ring around his finger, thinking about that one part of their wedding he could remember, wondering if maybe, just maybe, Eddie would like to do it again. Sober this time, with some friends and some family, I wonder if El’s too old to be a flower girl? The woods around the cabin would be nice! We could hang fairy lights! Steve stepped under the warm spray and let his mind run away with him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this little daydream would come true.

Part 5

Tag list @gregre369 @adhdsummer @newtstabber @nerdfighteratheart @anaibis @hbyrde36 @dolphincliffs @marinarasarah just lmk if you want removing 💖

[realjoehours]

ya boy just finished reading wolf island so now i’m going to talk about that because that sure was an experience (prepare for all over the place rambling)

kicking it back into our main man Grubbs’ point of view after spending a book with Bec and the book starts out pretty slow. it’s establishing things we already know and things we’ve already read from Bec’s perspective. it’s only after Grubbs, Shark and Meera part from the rest of the group that things start to actually pick up and become interesting.

this book isn’t as demon focused as the previous few have been and is much more werewolf centric but i guessed it would be from the name and also because that was the established quest for team Grubbs in Death’s Shadow. the only demons we really get in this book is the demon that Beranabus, Kernel and Grubbs were beating up at the start of the book while in the universe of the demonata and then i guess Juni, if you want to count her as a demon because she definitely isn’t a human anymore anyway.

it’s always a pleasure to have Meera around in the books and prior to going into this book the only experience i really had with Shark that notably stands out to me is all the way back in Demon Thief when he shows up with a young Dervish. outside of that notable experience he really hasn’t featured a whole lot outside of serving as a commander in Demon Apocalypse and then of course coming to Dervish’s mansion after the Lambs attack and after Dervish has his heart attack. because he hadn’t really featured much i didn’t really see a reason to be attached to the man but after spending most of a book with the guy and seeing him interact with the others i can confirm i’m now attached. he’s a cool guy and i hope there’s more of him soon (hopefully his recovery is smooth).

i absolutely loved the character dynamics between the characters in this book you can really tell that they care for each other. i absolutely adored Grubbs and Kernel’s reactions at the beginning of the book to Meera and Shark showing up in the demonata universe. i thought that with the shift in Grubbs’ character in the latter half of the book when he lets the wolf free that the dynamics wouldn’t be the same and yes they’ve changed but not a whole lot. sure Meera was hesitant and perhaps terrified at first she soon lapses back to a kind of normality with Grubbs before she parts ways with him in the last few chapters to help stop a crossing elsewhere.

speaking of Grubbs’ transformation, good for him. good on him finally being able to find himself in his own body and find a balance between him, the beast within him and the kah-gash. he no longer has to fight himself. it took me way longer than it should’ve to realise that the half man half wolf amalgamation depicted on the cover of the book was Grubbs (i only realised when i had to put the book down when Dervish talks about how he wants to be the one to choose when he dies and how he wants to do it on his turf (earth)). his new form and brand new abilities that come with it give him his own unique attributes that set him apart from the other members of the kah-gash as prior to this Grubbs didn’t have one. Bec has her memory soaking abilities, Kernel has his light panel seeing abilities and now Grubbs has his wolfen form and the heightened senses, speed and strength that come with it.

speaking of Kernel i think they’re just going with he’s dead, or at least Bec is convinced he is. but i mean i doubt Darren Shan would just kill off a member of the kah-gash with seemingly no reason to and even if Kernel were to die that’d be a big deal and it wouldn’t really be brushed off as a lesser death, he’s a piece of an ultra powerful world shattering universe erasing weapon god dammit. for now his disappearance remains a mystery and i can only hope that Dark Calling explains what the hell happened to him while he was guarding the window in Death’s Shadow, why he disappeared and where he’s been. and one can also hope that it’ll be from Kernel’s perspective too, he deserves another book from his perspective.

in terms of deaths this book there was a lot. all of the soldiers that were part of Shark’s dirty dozen (a reference that is lost on me) unfortunately didn’t survive the mission to Wolf Island but i wasn’t very attached to any of them so it was okay. sure i felt sorry for them as they were ripped to shreds by werewolves (and gun fire) but as Grubbs puts it in the book when Shark only introduces most of them by first name that it’s better that way because when it comes down to survival and loosing them it won’t hurt as much because it’s not as if he knew them beyond that name. and then of course there was all of the werewolves that were blown up when Timas set off those several bombs and the dominant wolf of the werewolf pack that Grubbs kills too. there’s also the massacre of all of the lamb soldiers and technicians within the compound. and finally probably the best death of the book Antoine Horowitz. Antoine was the brand new ceo of the Lambs who was incredibly insistent that he accompany Shark’s dirty dozen to Wolf Island to find and get answers from Prae Athim, former ceo who has supposedly went rogue and took all these werewolves to this island. and in a twist i didn’t see coming Prae Athim isn’t the big bad that i was expecting her to be it’s actually Antoine who we all should’ve been looking out for as he brings out his rosary when they reach the island and spends a long while doing what was thought to be just him saying prayers but was instead him opening a window of which Juni enters through (her coming directing from the cruise liner that the others are on). in retrospect it makes a lot of sense why he was so insistent that he went with the others to Wolf Island because if he hadn’t then who would’ve summoned Juni? anyways he gets ripped apart by werewolves.

somebody who didn’t die in this book that i fully expected to die was Prae. with the whole quest against her and all i thought she was going to be a goner for sure, even more so when she and Timas hang back to hold of the approaching werewolves to protect Grubbs and Meera. but she doesn’t die after all! and is now resuming her role as ceo of the Lambs but after everything she saw on that day, because yes everything that happens on Wolf Island is one day, she’s going to change Lambs for the better and go back to their original mission. they’ll still be looking for a cure but their main mission is to help the kids in the Grady Clan who’ve turned. no more killing, no more werewolf breeding, no more experimenting, no more being kept like caged animals and no more lies. instead of killing the kids that are afflicted they’ll instead be brought to Wolf Island where they can live free as part of the pack. Prae is has a long way to come in improving herself after all of the things she has done while in the Lambs but this new promise is a start to bettering the organisation and her brush with death has seemed to have awakened something in her to do better.

somebody else i feared would die this book was Dervish. his heart is in such horrible shape i was half convinced that he’d die at sea on that life boat with Bec and Kirilli, becoming their next meal. and with the chapter that Grubbs finally sees him in again being called “This Is The End, Beautiful Friend” i really thought he was a goner but no Shan’s just toying with my emotions again. he doesn’t have much time left though and he’s not got much fight in him either. i hope that if he does die though that he gets to go out quick and painlessly. and i hope that Grubbs and Bec are by his side because the last thing i want to read about his him dying alone.

also we get a Kirilli come back in the same chapter and he’s wooing the nurses of his tales of heroism on the ship and how he fought so many zombies and he’s talking about his missing fingers too. he’s such a loser oh my god. and when the window in the city opens like Meera was told it would Dervish literally gets out of his death bed to go and fight while Kirilli is in the corner throwing up. he’s a lover not a fighter. he goes anyway because otherwise the nurses will know that he was lying about his heroism and he just plays off his cowardice as him just needing his torn to pieces coat so he can look cool while kicking demon butt. never change Kirilli never change.

oh! how could i forget of the new character and very important character introduced in the beginning of this book! i’ve literally mentioned him in this post several times before too lol. anyways on to Timas! Timas is this very tall man and close link to Shark who’s a genius when it comes to computers and technology being able to track down anybody or anything to its original sources. if he hadn’t came in and located the nearest Lambs building and then located Wolf Island Grubbs, Shark and Meera would probably still be sitting in their hotel rooms trying to figure out what their next move will be. he’s described as an oddball throughout the book and yea sure he may be weird to an outsider but personally i think this man definitely has autism with a hyper fixation on technology, very blunt in a lot of responses and also doesn’t outwardly express emotions the same as the rest of the cast which makes him come across as just being calm and unfazed due to him typically just having a resting grin on his face. i think Timas is very cool. i’m glad he didn’t die in this book because if he died at any point the whole team would’ve no doubt been goners because, not to discredit those who died and made massive sacrifices for Grubbs and Meera to survive, but Timas’ brains saved the group from death on several occasions. he parts ways with Grubbs and Meera when they reach land to be there for Shark when he wakes up after surgery in hospital which hopefully means that he’ll appear again in either the next book or in Hell’s Heroes because i could see him being a very useful asset in the fight against Death. sure he isn’t a mage or magically inclined in any way whatsoever but he is incredible when it comes to technology, researching and recalling the things he’s researched as well as being very intelligent too. and in a fight against Death you’ll take whatever help you can get, that’s why Kirilli is on the team after all.

also before i talk about Shark and his injuries that i mentioned above i want to mention a funny observation that i’ve made regarding Dervish, Meera and Shark in Death’s Shadow and Wolf Island. all three of them have used the expression “remind me to give you a big kiss after this” (of course worded slightly differently depending on who’s saying it). Dervish says it too Meera when they’re in the secret room in the wine cellar after the werewolf attacks in Death’s Shadow (or it’s Meera who says it and Dervish just agrees i can’t remember) and then both Shark and Meera say it to Timas in this book after he makes some life saving observation and plan for the team (i don’t remember which one). i thought that when the line was used in this book that it would be dismissed as a one off thing like it is in Death’s Shadow, because i mean Dervish then collapses of a heart attack a few moments later, but it actually isn’t! and Timas brings it up when him and Prae are staying behind to hold off the werewolves so that Grubbs and Meera can escape and live as he apologises to Meera that he wouldn’t be able to receive that kiss that she had promised him as he’d be dead to which Meera jokes that she lied and wouldn’t kiss him which makes Timas actually sad until she tells him she’s joking, Meera don’t be mean to my man >:(. that isn’t even the end of this bits as it’s brought up by Timas again when he parts ways with Meera and Grubbs as he says about the promise that Meera made, which she’s forgotten about because of all of the commotion. and i’m just going to pull this straight from the book because i just thought it was the funniest thing ever:

…“I know,” he says, then turns to Meera “Time to make good on that promise.” “What promise?” Meera squints. Timas grabs her and bends her backwards, supporting her with one arm. “A kiss for your sweet prince,” he murmurs, smooching up to her. Meera pretends to struggle, but then grins and treats him to a kiss that’s even hotter than Shark’s curses.

and like while that’s happening Grubbs is just kind of standing there waiting for them to be done with it. another funny bit that has nothing to do with the previously mentioned bit is when Grubbs confronts Antoine and he asks Grubbs what had happened to him (referring to his new wolfen form) and Grubbs just replies with “Teenage Angst”. that was funny to me.

anyway onto Shark he’s ambushed by one of the werewolves while the group is fleeing from the cave and he stays behind fighting off to werewolves which allows for the team to make for the cliff side to escape (they don’t end up doing so). Shark is then absent until the later chapters of the book as everyone presumes that he’s dead and he sacrificed himself for them dying in action like a true hero. but no Shark isn’t killed that easily and he lives! he’s able to compose himself enough after the fight to drag his very wounded self back to the facility where he’s then able to lower an escape boat and climb down the rope ladder to escape boat where he simply lay while Grubbs and the werewolves massacre the Lambs, Grubbs fights Juni and hears her vision (i’ll elaborate on that in my last bit), them discovering about what happened with the others on the cruise ship, the werewolves murdering Antoine and Prae vowing to be a better person and to completely change the Lambs. good thing Grubbs, Meera and Timas found him when they did because Shark really wasn’t in good shape down there as Timas goes point out that his innards are poking out of a wound on his back. thankfully there’s an ambulance that rushes him to hospital when they reach land because god knows he needs it. i can only assume that this isn’t the last time we’ll see the battle hungry Shark in these books and fingers crossed he recovers in time for the end of the world…

speaking of the end of the world did you know that Grubbs is going to be the cause of it? apparently so! or at least according to the vision that Juni had during her battle against Grubbs in the compound. that’s the only reason why Grubbs survived the battle too because if Juni hadn’t had that vision when she did he’d be dead. Grubbs is part of the kah-gash which is a weapon that can hypothetically be used to destroy not just worlds but universes but Juni didn’t say the kah-gash she never even mentioned Bec or Kernel in this vision it was just Grubbs. which is really strange. what’s also strange is that the kah-gash has seemingly only been talking to Grubbs also as i don’t remember it ever speaking to Bec during Death’s Shadow and i can’t speak for Kernel because he hasn’t had a point of view since his introductory book Demon Thief when the concept of the kah-gash being a thing that exists was introduced. also Grubbs is back to withholding information that seems like it would be extremely beneficial to tell the other disciples, but then again if i was told that i was going to be the reason the world ends i’d struggle to word that to somebody else too.

despite the lack of Kirilli in this book it was an amazing read (i’m joking even if there was no Kirilli it’s still an amazing read) and i loved the character development that Grubbs is going through in this book as he embraces his “true self” and becomes a more confident leader. and everybody better get ready because the end is near and Death doesn’t wait for anybody… or well i guess he can wait one more book so we can figure out where Kernel went to.

[kyunzin]

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞

character; 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

cw; picking up the phone while they’re fucking you (f!reader)

tags; slight voyerism/missionary position/ teasing (gojo), teasing/ doggy style/ degradation (geto), vouyerism/ degradation/ praise/ chokehold/ back shots (toji),sex tape/ voyerism/degradation/ objectification / missionary (sukuna), [yuuji makes an appearance at the end] (f!reader)

a/n; I haven’t posted in a while, if you requested it is in the making I promise, by the way if the spelling/grammar is bad it’s cause i’m writing this at 1 am my brain ain’t function properly rn

𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

✰ would tease you, pick up the phone and tell the person that picked up that you’re busy while still fucking you.

“why don’t you answer it baby, it might be important?”

he smirks down at you as he watches you glare at him even though your moaning, letting out a weak “fuck you” at his childish antics.

“c’mon, all you have time do is see what they want it can be that hard”

his pace doesn’t let up and you watch in horror as he picks up the phone to answer with a devious smirk on his face. he knows you didn’t actually expect him to pick up the phone.

“this is gojo speaking, ah nanamin it’s you. sorry shes busy but I can help you”

your quick to slap your hand over you mouth and gojo feels the way you clench around him and he watches in amusement as you try to contain your noise though he’s sure the sound of his hips slapping against yours are making it through the speaker.

“yeah, I’ll be sure to pass on the message don’t worry”

once the call ends he throws the phone to the side and continues fucking you however the smirk never leaves his face. you’re sure to call nanami back and apologise for gojo’s behaviour.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

✰ he would tease yout at first baiting you but he wouldn’t actually pick up.

“what would they think if they heard the pathetic sounds you’re making baby, you wanna find out?”

he watches as you shake your head and whine at his suggestion from below him but he feels the way your cunt tightens around him at the idea.

“you sure baby, then why did your pussy squeeze so tight when I mentioned it, clearly you want them to hear how much of a cock hungry slut you are don’t you”

it’s the first time something like this has happened so you’re not sure if he’s actually going to pick up or not, you’re oulse raising in anticipation.

“you think I don’t feel the way your sucking me in even tighter, someone would think that you actually enjoy the idea of someone hearing you, is that what you want?”

“no sug, please” you don’t know if your pleas will work as the way his hands grip onto your waist tighter say otherwise as well as the way he starts to reach for the phone ahead your pulse increasing. you believe he’s going to follow through with the suggestion until he picks yo the phone to decline the call and you sigh in relief.

“don’t worry princess, I’m the only one that gets to hear your slutty moans”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

✰ would pick up straight away and make you speak to the person on the phone as he fucks you.

“tell them you’re busy, make it quick”

your not ready by the time he puts the phone up to your ear and you don’t even recognise the voice speaking to you not that you have half the brain right now as toji fucked the sense out of you but you have to comply with his wishes as you dont want to be punished even though you know hes only doing it to humiliate you.

“make sure you speak properly otherwise they won’t be able to understand you baby”

it’s hard for you to speak as he has you held up by your throat so your words come out choppy in between your moans and theres no doubt that the person on the phone can tell whats going on. “ye -fuck! hello s-sorry about that. shit, can I um -oh fuck, can I c-call you back later?”

“taking to long princess, hurry up”

“fuck! m’ trying, please! no not you -fuck sorry. m’ b-busy right now so I’m gonna call you back- fuck!” toji doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence sending one particularly harsh thrust just before the call ends throwing it back to it’s place.

“such a good girl doing as i asked, but now they know what a dirty slut you are, taking calls while you’re being fucked”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

✰ puts the phone next to your pussy so that the person can hear the obscene sounds then next to your mouth to hear your moans.

“keep making ‘em pretty noises for me”

you don’t even notice when he picks up the phone but you soon realise that he is holding your phone down to where his balls slap against your ass making the wettest sound and you know that he’s recording a video as he usual does when the two of you fuck, he says he saved it for when he can’t fuck you l.

“hear that it’s the sound of quality pussy, she’s sucking me in so tightly. bet you wish you were me huh?”

you don’t even have half a mind to question what he’s doing right now as even though he’s occupied with the phone he’s still fucking you brutally shaking the bed with the force of his thrusts eliciting loud and long moans from you.

“my pretty little whore can take my dick so well, she even makes the prettiest noises for me wanna hear?”

you’re not sure how long he records the sounds your pussy makes but the next thing you know is that the phone is placed next to your ear for it to hear the profanities leave your mouth one after the other a proud smirk on his face as you do “ryo please- oh fuck, feels s-so fuckin good”

“my cunt takes cock so well, pretty sure it’s all she’s good for. just to be used as my fleshlight”

you soon later come to learn that it was yuuji the video was for yuuji after hearing your moans he may or may have not fisted his cock all night in jealousy wishing it were him fucking you instead.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍

@tyunixia @riowmie

[brnesblogposts]

Do you take this pebble?

Bucky barnes x fem!reader

this was written quickly because if i didn’t do it now i never would so sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. also i suck at using punctuation so ignore that too!

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“Hey what’s wrong, Doll?” Bucky asks as he walks into the bedroom to find his best girl crying.

“Penguins” She mutters out and Buckys face turns into a perplexed expression.

“Penguins?” He asks as he scoots onto the bed to get closer to her, laying a hand on her thigh.

“Did you know- did you know that the male penguin will scour the area for the perfect pebble to present to the female as a way of proposing? If she says yes they mate for life.” She starts crying again and Bucky tries holding back his laugh because he thought something had upset you but no you’re crying over penguins.. He moves a bit to accommodate you on his lap, your head on his chest as he rubs his hands up and down your back to soothe you.

“This is ridiculous, i’m ridiculous. Sorry” You apologise for being overly dramatic and Bucky shushes you, you’ve always been emotional and the smallest thing, sad or happy can set you off. He finds it endearing how much you feel.

“It’s okay, baby” He kisses the crown of your head “It’s not ridiculous” He reassures you. The two of you lay there for awhile in each others embrace.

____________ The next morning _____________

After the whole debacle of your emotional breakdown over penguins last night Bucky and you both woke up and got on with your regular activities, him going out to run some ‘errands’ that you apparently weren’t allowed to join him on.. so you tended to some spring cleaning of the apartment.

A few hours later Bucky returns.

“Hey Buck, I missed you” You approach him and wrap your arms around him as he returns the hug, he has a bag in his hand.. a suspicious bag..

“I got you something” He says and you automatically smile, he always thinks of you when he’s out, whether it be him bringing home your favourite treat or a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“Yeah..? What is it” You beam excitedly and he laughs at your eagerness. You both walk to the kitchen where he sets the bag down on the island.

“Close your eyes and put your hands out” He says and you give him one last suspicious look before you listen and close your eyes. It’s then you hear him go into the bag and get something out, a few seconds later something is placed in your hands, it’s weirdly heavy.

“Open them!” He’s got a bright smile plastered on his face anticipating your reaction.

You open your eyes.

“A pebble?”

“You know how you were telling me about penguins last night..” He jogs your memory and it instantly works because you’re putting it down and jumping into his arms.

“OH MY GOD BUCKY YOU GOT ME A PEBBLE!” He laughs at how adorably excited you are. Eventually he manages to pry you off of him.

“It’s not just any pebble.. break it open.. theres a pretty crystal inside” At this your eyes brighten up, you pick the pebble up and put it on the chopping board and use a hammer that’s meant for meat to break it open. It takes a few tries but eventually you get it open and see what’s inside and pick it up.

“A diamond??” You look at it absolutely baffled and turn around to ask Bucky what it’s all about but stop in your tracks at the sight before you.

Bucky on one knee. Bucky on one knee holding an empty band, looking at you with the most love stricken eyes.

“Accept my pebble and do me the honour of being my mate forever?” He is smiling so big and you stand shocked as tears escape your eyes.

“Bucky..” The biggest grin breaks out on your face.

“What do you say, doll? Will you marry me? Be my penguin partner forever and ever?” He doesn’t get time to prepare himself for the way you launch yourself at him fall to your knees in front of him and wrap your arms around him so tightly

“I take it that’s a yes?” He himself is tearing up now and you lean back to look at him unable to form words simply nodding as tears stream down your face. He takes your hand and puts the band on it.

“Well need to take it back to the jewellers so they can put the diamond in” He starts to explain but you shut him up with a kiss that tells him all that you couldn’t say.

“Bucky Barnes I won the lottery with you” You say cupping his face and kissing him again.

“Doll you have no idea the way the universe answered my prayers by allowing me to find you.” He mutters out as he starts to properly ball and you both cried and kissed and hugged and started dreaming of the rest of your lives

reblogs appreciated if you liked it!

[bountycancelled]

(un)secret admirer

luke castellan x child of aphrodite!reader

tip me on kofi, if you feel so inclined

requested: nope, I'm just currently obsessing over pjo (aren't we all?) and Charlie bushnell is my pookie so luke is also my pookie (what about all the people he murdered– what murdaaaa?!)

warnings: none I believe!

content: probably ooc luke becusse I haven't read the books, I don't know if demigods even nap, I don't remember the movies and he's barely in the show lol, some cuddling, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, also I know demi gods are dyslexic i just dont gaf because i thought this concept was cute, that's all!

a/n: SEND ME PJO REQS! please. also this is short and I'm sorry, I've been having horrid writers block.

"I don't get what the big deal is." Lukes voice could be heard from where he sat on your bed, as you gazed at the piece of paper in your hand, pacing back and forth in your room as you analysed its every minute detail to the best of your abilities. "you get letters from the other campers all the time."

"I already told you Luke. this handwriting isn't the same as any other letter I've gotten, so that means it's from someone who's never sent me a note before, and I need to know who it is."

you had recieved a myriad of letters ranging from 'I think you're pretty' to 'I would sacrifice my right arm just to get a hug from you' during your time here at camp. beyond being drop dead gorgeous, you were kind, always wearing a charming smile on your face, and having the ability to comfort people with your presence alone.

that (coupled with the facts that most kids here had some kind of parental baggage and your kindness definitely filled some kind of void) meant that you recieved many a words from not so secret admirers. you were sure that you knew the identities of the people who had given you sealed envelopes and tightly folded papers, but you were currently stumped.

you were startled out of your staring contest with the scribbled ink by the feeling of Lukes arms around your shoulders as he spoke. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually, now can you please come back to bed? you know that I can't nap if you're not with me."

you sighed, letting him lead you back to your bed so that he could rest before you two inevitable of the two of you needing to help around the camp occured. you stared up at the ceiling as he slowly started to dose off beside you, before you gasped and shot up, effectively spooking him out of a peaceful moment.

"it's Percy!" you shushed Luke before he had the chance to complain about your sudden exclamation or the fact that you weren't letting him get a wink of midday sleep. "I mean, he's just met me, and one of my friends probably told him some stuff about me–"

"it's not Percy." Luke deadpanned, pushing you down by the shoulder from the upright postpone you were sat in to make you lay back down, and wrapping his arm around your waist. you were shocked into silence, because although Luke was an affectionate friend, he had never cuddled you while he was still awake. he would always wake up and discovering that he had wrapped around you in his sleeping state, apologising sheepishly while retracting his limbs.

after a few moments of stunned silence, you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his statement. "and how do you know it's not him, huh?" he simply blew air from his nose, tightening his grip around your waist.

"because it was me, sweetheart."

now that shut you up fairly quickly, as you bit your lip to try to hinder the giddy smile that wanted to form on your features. you opened your mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by Luke placing a small kiss on the back of your neck.

"we'll talk when we wake up, alright?" but you weren't having any of that. "okay... but, before you go to bed. how long have you liked me? is this actually the first letter you've sent? why wouldn't you just tell me, you idiot. obviously I like you too. I know you said some stuff that you like about me in the letter, but I want you to tell me about everything you like about me, like every feature, every trait-"

Luke chuckled, sporting a big grin as you spoke. he would tell you all of that and more, he would do anything you asked of him, just as long as he got to hold you in his arms just like this.

[thenameswinterfics]

SCIAMACHY

Fandom: House of the Dragon Pairing: Cregan Stark x DragonDreamer!Reader Settings: Season 2 and post season 2 Summary: As the second child of King Viserys Targaryen and Queen Aemma Arryn, your father arranged your marriage to the young Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark, in the guise of an arranged marriage that would strengthen the bond between your Houses. But you are haunted by visions of a bloody war shaking the Seven Kingdoms, and the seeds of your doubt are sown when your sister's claim to the throne is challenged. Word Count: 4,4 K Warnings: Angst, mention of death, mention of grief, mention of character(s) death(s), mention of child loss, mention of sibling loss, major spoilers from the book "Fire and Blood" (if you're only following the show please do not read this fic). A/N: I'm back! (sadly for you) This is my very first fic I've written for the HOTD fandom and the very first fic of Cregan. I'm nervous, maybe even more than when I posted my first Sihtric fic, probably because the fandom is vast. It came out different of what I've planned in my head and I lowkey hate the last part, but I hope you still could enjoy it! A special thanks to @foxyanon and @zaldritzosrose for helping me with clearing my outline and for the title, and for her and @legitalicat for the quick beta reading.

Dedicated to my beautiful Cregan wife @sylasthegrim

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header & dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Sciamachy: (n), a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadows.

An unfamiliar chill ran down your spine as you walked through the dark corridors of the Red Keep, the place you were born but never called home. The soft crunching of the snow under your boots was the only sound you could hear as you juggled in the darkness, the faintest light in the form of rays filtering through the cracks in the walls and allowing you to see a little. 

The sight was vivid, far too vivid, and all you could do was rub your eyes vigorously, hoping that when your vision cleared you would find yourself surrounded by the crackling fire and warmth of your room in Winterfell, the place you were sent against your will but would be forced to call home once you became its new lady. 

But no matter how hard you tried to clear your vision: you would still recognise the long, oppressive corridors you had walked as a child, emptied of the countless soldiers of the Kingsguard that guarded it. Each step became an echo of the memories you thought you had buried with time, but which rose to the surface like a breath of fire from the dragon's jaws. 

You could still hear the voice of King Viserys, the father who despised you from the moment you took your first breath, guilty of stealing your twin brother's life and living in his name. A father that neglected you for not being born as a man.

You could still hear the voice of your sister Rhaenyra, sweet as honey and warm as a mother's embrace you had never known. You were the little sister she always wanted, the glimpse of freedom amidst her duties to the Crown and the relief from the pain of losing a childhood friend. And it mattered not that you were the quietest of her family, avoiding banquets and receptions in the throne room and sneaking out whenever you could, collecting the brightest bugs and muttering meaningless words, flinching when someone touched your hand: you were still her perfect little sister in her eyes. 

And her love was all you wanted right now. 

Your bittersweet thoughts were interrupted by a loud roar from outside, the sound so loud it made your head spin and your stomach churn. You quickened your pace, hoping to find a larger crack in the wall to see what was happening outside. And there you found a vision that made you freeze.

You saw two dragons, an older one and a younger one, chasing each other across a stormy sky, their dragon scales glowing under the lightning and thunder as their bodies pursued each other in a majestic yet macabre dance. It seemed an innocent game between them, but the claws and talons of the older dragon prevailed over the younger, and you watched helplessly as he fell to the ground like a comet from the sky, swallowed by the sea.

You walked on, your eyes never leaving the scene outside, wanting to help the little dragon disappear into the water. But the more you crossed the corridor, the heavier the air you breathed became, and roars of pain, of burning lands and clashing swords filled your ears like a cursed chant. 

You covered your ears and closed your eyes, stopping your journey towards the throne room. When you opened your eyes again, you saw a room far different from the one you were accustomed to: the vibrant and noisy ambience turned into a ghostly one, the faint rays of moonlight illuminating the Iron Throne. A bloody crown, Jaehaerys' crown, lay abandoned on the throne, rivulets of blood running down to your feet, two dragons lying restlessly behind it. Two children stood before it, their backs to each other, holding each other's hands; you could feel their tortured gaze as they watched the bloody chair, and your heart broke at the sight. 

As you approached, trying to touch the crown, soft footsteps made you turn and you heard a wolf howling in the distance.

And then you woke up. 

Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honour must pay its price. 

These were the words that came out from Cregan Stark's mouth as he escorted Jacaerys to the Wall. They were a testament to how the men of the North were bound by his rigid code of values and honour, and how none of them had ever forgotten or wavered from an oath. 

And when the Stark were called upon to renew their allegiance to House Targaryen, nothing would make them waver.

His father Rickon had already done so when he was summoned to King's Landing and bent the knee to Rhaenyra Targaryen, and a few years later it was Cregan's turn to renew the oath by accepting King Viserys' offer of marriage to the new lord of Winterfell. The young wolf had recently been freed from the regency of his zealous uncle Bennard, and an arranged marriage to a Targaryen princess would strengthen the bond between the two houses since the times of Aegon the Conqueror and Tohrren Stark. 

But when he saw the melancholy in your lilac eyes, Cregan realised that politics was nothing more than a sweet lie masking a more sinister purpose: you were no longer welcome at the court of King Viserys, no matter how much your sister begged to keep you under her protection, or how much Alicent Hightower dared to show a glimmer of mercy. You would have been a young dragon raised by a pack of wolves, and as his future wife it would have been his responsibility to look after you.

And now he was called to be sworn to House Targaryen again, on the brink of a civil war that could involve the North in Southern affairs. 

“The realm will soon tear itself apart if men do not remember the oath sworn to King Viserys and to his rightful heir,” Jacaerys announced solemnly, walking through the narrow corridors of the Walls, Cregan at his side. The Lord of Winterfell was holding Ice over one shoulder, the sword as heavy as the title inherited from his father. 

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my prince,” Cregan retorted, occasionally bowing his head to some members of the Night’s Watch, “But you must know that my gaze is forever torn between North and South,” he added, a hint of heavy responsibility in his voice. The threats in winter were much greater than in summer, with the Night's Watch and the men of Winterfell stepping up their activities on the Wall, ready to turn back any outside threats. Furthermore, it was rare to see the intervention of the North in matters concerning the South, but Cregan could not ignore that oaths were broken. And traitors had to pay for it.

“War is coming to the whole realm, my lord,” it was the Prince of Dragonstone’s turn to retort back, “Whilst your men plan to raise guards against wildlings, the Hightowers plan to usurp the throne. My mother’s claim has been compromised, and little I believe your lady wife could turn her gaze away,”

The words that escaped Jace's mouth left Cregan in a state of astonishment, his brows furrowing and hardening his already stern face. He had never expected the prince to use his wife so cleverly, even though she was a trusted member of his house whom he had sadly never met in peaceful circumstances.

“The Queen has not forgotten the love she has for her sister, and King’s Landing will welcome her again once my mother succeeds in keeping the realm united,”

“My lady wife has her sister's fate very much at heart,” Cregan continued, his gaze softening a bit at the thought of you, “and you arrival put her in a state of worry, my prince,”

The two young men then stood on the Wall, looking out over the untamed land, now covered in white snow. A biting wind whipped around them as Cregan explained how such powerful creatures as the dragons refused to cross the spaces beyond the Wall, highlighting the dangers of the unknown that folded these lands, while he and Jacaerys negotiated the number of men willing to aid Queen Rhaenyra's cause. Cregan himself knew the importance of keeping an oath to a man's moral integrity, and while his duties were tied to the Wall and the threat of the wildlings, he could not ignore the dispute over the king's word. 

“My lord,” one of Cregan’s men arrived, forcing the two young men to interrupt their conversation, “Urgent news from Dragonstone,” 

The Wolf of Winterfell took the parchment in his hands, and from the brief glance he shared with one of his men, he knew the contents were far from frivolous. He let the paper slip from his hands to read the message, and a sense of astonishment struck him like the chill of the North: his lips curled into a grimace, his eyebrows furled slightly as his grey eyes scanned the words printed on the paper. He could have thought it was an unfortunate joke, but the seal of House Targaryen only confirmed what he had read: 

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Cregan lifted his gaze to rest on Jacaerys' brown eyes and watched as the young prince's face contorted in confusion, then grief as he glanced at the parchment in Cregan's hands, and hot tears watered his eyes, streaming down his sharp face until two small rivers crossed their path on his chin. The young lord watched helplessly as the Prince of Dragonstone staggered backwards, clutching his chest in a tight fist as if trying to hold it together; it was a sight familiar to Cregan, for he had also lost his younger brother and remembered the same sense of helplessness creeping through his veins. 

But as Jacaerys collapsed in grief, a new weight hit Cregan's chest, a sense of dread blossoming in the centre of his stomach as he steeled himself for what was to come. 

He would have to inform you and to bring the news of Lucery’s death. And it wouldn’t be easy.

The bright orange sun hid behind the imposing mountains of the North, its last rays illuminating the tops of the peaks and tinting the snow a soft pink. As the light faded, a few amber rays filtered through the windows of your chambers, illuminating them with a soft glow - the gentle warmth of the sun blending with the heat of the great fire in the centre of the room, accompanied by the soft crackle of the wood.

You sat quietly at the foot of your bed, embroidery hoop in hand, watching your son Rickon play with his wooden toys beside you. A few handmaids moved about your chambers, preparing the large table for the dinner you and Cregan would share that evening. Your lilac eyes rested on the small figure of your son, who returned them with a broad smile. But as you raised a hand and gently rubbed his swollen cheeks, you were seized by a sense of unease. 

It had been a long time since you and Cregan had been married, and from the first night you spent in Winterfell your mind had been haunted by dark omens hovering over your family name. Glimpses of what had happened in the past and what would happen in the future passed before your eyes like dancing shadows, sometimes appearing even when you were fully awake. You could still hear cries for help filling your ears, dragons fighting in the sky with claws and breath of fire, and sinister whispers plotting an overthrow of power, the image of your father's bloody crown on the throne still vivid in your mind. 

The people of Winterfell had always regarded you with suspicion, for you were far from the Targaryen princess they had always imagined. But Cregan had never dared to question your tastes, however strange they might sound, and whenever the duties of lordship allowed him a moment's respite, he would gladly accompany you to the far reaches of the North and catch whatever bugs you wanted. In winter, when the temperatures were too harsh and the bugs were nowhere to be found, he would wrap his great arms around your form and listen to your strange rhymes as he gazed into the fire. 

Your prophetic dreams ceased after you gave birth to Rickon, but they returned when a raven came from Dragonstone with grim news: the death of your father the King, the usurpation of your sister's claim by the Hightowers, and the loss of Rhaenyra's only daughter. Fear settled in your heart as you remembered the figure of the young dragon swallowed by the waves of the ocean, and you wondered if even innocent children would fall victim to this dangerous game of power. 

The doors of your chambers swung open and Cregan appeared. The handmaids greeted him with a nod of respect, and you gave him a small smile as you watched Rickon rise and reach his father, who scooped him up with his free hand and kissed his little forehead.

But it was when he looked at you that you realised something was wrong. His eyes, softened by the sight of you, held a pain that seemed to be fighting him. It was as if he were carrying a burden too heavy for him to bear, heavier even than his duties as Lord of Winterfell, and the sight surprised you: you had never seen Cregan so troubled by anything.

"Leave us alone," your husband's voice echoed in the room, once again wearing his mask of severity, "I need to have a few words with my wife in private,” 

The handmaids bowed their heads and quickly left the room, one of them holding Rickon in her arms. There was an unspoken tension in the air as Cregan cautiously approached you and sat in front of you. He had always been an attentive and protective husband, showing a side that differed from the stern image he gave his men.

“You seem quite troubled, husband,” you spoke softly, your voice faltering slightly. Cregan replied with a heavy sigh, covering your hands with his larger ones and rubbing them with his calloused thumbs.

“Dreadful news came from Dragonstone, my love,” Cregan said in a hoarse voice, choosing his words carefully, as if talking to a wounded puppy, “Your sister, the Queen, lost a child again,”

You felt the ground beneath your feet, surroundings had become as muffled as your husband's voice as he recited the contents of the parchment:

"Prince Lucerys Velaryon has met his death at Storm's End, slain by Prince Aemond Targaryen.”

Feeling like you were about to pass out, you rolled over onto your side and gripped the wooden footboard in a tight vice. You immediately covered your mouth and looked down at your feet as your mind slowly processed the news, but the shock was so strong that no tears came. Your mind raced back to the dream you'd had weeks before Jacaerys' arrival, seeing pieces of a puzzle you couldn't quite understand until now: Lucerys was the dragon that fell from the sky, and Aemond was the other one who sank his jaws into his flesh.

You felt Cregan's worried gaze on you as one of his hands moved to your arm, rubbing it gently in a soothing way. “It pains me to see you so devastated, my sweet wife,” he spoke quietly, breaking the wall of silence between you, “but you must know that House Stark will stand against-“

“I need a moment, please,” your trembling voice interrupted him as you found the strength to stand at your feet, your thick robes swooning with every step you took in the room. You paced back and forth, one hand rubbing the bridge of your nose while the other supported your lower back, grief and confusion mixing in your head as you felt like you were about to succumb to madness: for a moment you wondered if Rickon would fall victim to the Dance as well, but no bad omen was attached to him and that brought you a moment of peace.

Your restless walk ended as you approached the large window of your chambers and saw Vermax flying restlessly outside. It pained you to see such a magnificent creature as a dragon so distraught over the loss of his kin, and it pained you even more when a flash of his fate crossed your eyes as you saw the dragon dancing among hundreds of arrows.

“It is said that dragons can feel their masters’ emotions,” a rough voice came from behind, and you saw Cregan looking outside like you, “They feel their pain, their turmoil, and they share the same grief.” 

“He is preparing for his last flight,” you murmured quietly, turning your head slightly and locking your lilac gaze into his grey one. You felt Cregan’s hand resting on your waist, allowing him to pull you closer and join your foreheads together. 

"Winter is coming, my love, and I need my men here to defend the Wall," he spoke softly, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt the warmth of your skin against his, "but House Stark will pledge its support to Queen Rhaenyra by sending her thousands of Greybeards to fight in her name. Your sister's claim will be upheld and your nephew will succeed her," 

"Jacaerys will never be King of the Seven Kingdoms," you confessed defeatedly, looking down at your feet, "the only kingdom he will see is of sea and salt. He will never see his mother sitting on the Iron Throne. I have seen it,"

Your words brought a heavy silence to the room and you both withdrew into your thoughts. You saw how quickly Cregan and Jacaerys had bonded, how they spent their days hunting and drinking together while they negotiated the terms of war. Luke's death would not be an accident, and you hoped your words would reach your husband, that he would understand the destructive force dragons could be once they went into battle.

Instead, Cregan's only words were his arms wrapped around you, sealing your body in a protective embrace. He whispered words of comfort, kissed your temple and promised victory over the usurpers.

But deep in his heart, he knew it would not be easy.

Grief and anger were the emotions Cregan felt as he rolled the parchment in his hands, his eyes darting over the words written in pitch-black ink. He cursed himself for not believing the signs of your dreams, for thinking that fear had created them for you. But even this time you were right.

The Battle of the Gullet had been costly for the Blacks, and the death of Jacaerys Velaryon was a low blow the queen would not forgive her usurpers. It was Cregan again who had the task of bringing you the unfortunate news, and his eyes would forever be haunted by the sight of your grief: he saw you holding Rickon as the news of blood and cheese reached Winterfell's ears, and those same dull eyes came back to you as you leaned against the wall at your nephew's death.

Not even the news that King's Landing had fallen into the hands of Rhaenyra and Daemon could ease the paranoia you lived with, but it only served to fuel your dark prophecies. Few letters were exchanged between Cregan and Rhaenyra, with the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms constantly asking for her beloved sister and inviting her to return to court and serve if she wished. But Cregan always refused her invitation. 

For the truth was that you were safe in the great lands of the North, surrounded by nothing but the love of Cregan and Rickon, far from that viper's nest that was the Red Keep. It took time for you to adjust to the harsh cold of Winterfell and the coldness of its people, but your calm and gentle nature opened a breach in the heart of his hardened lord, and with it, the people began to love you. 

The night was cold, and the heat of the fire was not enough to protect them from the blizzard raging outside. Cregan could not sleep, tossing and turning, hoping that the Old Gods would grant him some much needed rest. It was only after tossing and turning on his side for the umpteenth time that he saw you awake too, your platinum curls falling gently to your shoulders and your lilac eyes gazing absently at the small bed where Rickon rested. 

The young wolf wrapped his naked arms around your waist and pulled you close, his chest pressed against your back, the layer of your nightgown the only thing separating your bodies. "Sleep seems to have left you too," he said in a harsh voice, his lips brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes and let out a shuddering breath. 

"I have no reason to be asleep, dear husband," you replied absently, the softness of your voice melting his heart. Cregan knew that your mind was far from him, and he feared that your prophetic dreams had imprisoned it again. He let out a long sigh before speaking again.

"A raven came from King's Landing in the morrow," he spoke quietly, keeping his voice low so as not to wake Rickon, "your sister will be pleased to welcome you to the capital and give you all the honours of a Targaryen princess,”

He felt a small chuckle escape your mouth and lowered his head, resting his newly bearded chin on your collarbone, "If it is your wish to reach her, I will order some of my men to arrange a safe journey south for you." Cregan went on, his voice faltering at the thought of leaving you alone while Rhaenyra dealt with her opponents. But you were his wife and the light of his eyes, and if you wished to regain your lost time with your sister, he would accept it without objection.

But the slight shake of your head surprised him, "It wouldn't change anything. Rhaenyra would be dead the moment I reached King's Landing, and the gods know what horrors await there.”

Cregan's brow furrowed, and for the first time he seriously considered the words of your prophetic dreams: if the Dragon Queen was indeed about to die, what would happen if he left his wife alone in the grasp of the Greens? A shiver ran down his spine, anger boiling in his chest at the thought of you being taken prisoner by Aegon the Usurper. 

"That will probably not happen," the Lord of Winterfell scoffed, tightening his grip as if he secretly feared you would disappear in his arms, "You have nothing to fear, my dear woman. Your sister is Queen now. Once the usurpers and the breakers of the oath have paid for what they have done, there will be a reign of peace and prosperity. 

"It will not be her," you murmured, rolling to the other side to face Cregan. You leaned your hand against his cheek as you looked at him with your melancholy eyes, "Rhaenyra is the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but a crown of ashes will adorn her head and a cloak of fire will wrap her body.”

Cregan leaned into your touch, but he could not quite relax at the grim revelation you gave him: he wanted to find comfort in your presence, but your words were as hard as boulders, carrying a heavy weight he wanted to lift from your shoulders.

"I can hardly see it," he murmured, his voice tinged with doubt, "Rhaenyra is a strong woman, gathering as many noble men as she can for her cause. The kingdom will be stable under her leadership."

You shook your head slowly again, your eyes filled with sorrow, "But the Dragonfire is stronger than she is, and what she has built will crumble with her," you paused for a moment before continuing, "A throne of iron swords will give way to a wooden one, and only when the cripple breathes his last will a child step in, wearing Rhaenyra's crown like a burden.”

Cregan closed his eyes and tightened his grip, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face as he slowly digested what you had told him. He had learned over time that your dreams were not mere hallucinations of a daydreaming mind, but a prophecy destined to come true, no matter how hard you tried to alter the course of events. The deaths of Jacaerys and Lucerys were living proof. 

“I swear on my honour that I will keep raising my banners for the rightful queen, no matter how gruesome our fates will be,” Cregan retorted, lowering his head more until your foreheads met again, “What will be of us?”

"You are bound by your honour and will fight for Rhaenyra until your last breath, my love," you murmured, absently tracing circles on his cheek with your thumbs, "The wolf will cry in the dragon's nest, and his wolf will be heard in the darkest hour. And only when order is restored will the wolf return to his pack."

Cregan stood in silence, his chest rising slowly as he held his breath, the realisation dawned on him: the intense activity on the Wall and the organisation of the harvest had always prevented him and his men from making a proper march on King's Landing, hoping that the Greybeards he had sent would be enough to fight for Rhaenyra's cause. But your words have confirmed that his men will march on King's Landing, and he hopes to find a less devastated city than the one his wife has described.

“Cregan,” your gentle call awakened him from his thoughts, his head resting on your hands, “promise me you will come back to me and Rickon. Swear it,”

The young wolf stood silent for a moment, his eyes drinking in your beauty: it would be painful to leave you behind, but if your prophecy came true, he would be forced to honour his oath and fight for his queen. And so he took your head in his hands, closing the distance and sealing the promise with a long, bittersweet kiss, tasting of farewell but full of hope.

“I swear it.”

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