#laurent said I Have To Tell Everyone

[taiturner]

The Walking Dead: Daryl Dixon — 1x03 "Paris Sera Toujours Paris"

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Nickname Runs in the Family || CL16

Summary: When you end up crying on your father’s shoulder over a boy, Kimi enlists the help of Charles to teach him a lesson. Charles Leclerc x Raikkonen!Reader Warnings: nsfw, fighting, mentions of sex, WC: 2.9k

To the outside world Kimi was known as ‘The Iceman’, garnered for his cold personality in the media and how he never let anything bother him, at home however he was just called isä or dad. You really could have done with more of The Iceman persona because when it came to his family your father was anything but cool and collected.

“Tell me what happened,” Kimi demanded, your tears only streaming faster down your cheeks.

“Nothing happened, dad.”

“Something happened, tytär, don’t lie to me.”

It was stupid to go there after what happened. You should have just returned to your student accommodation at the college but you needed the comfort of home and someone you trusted. Now all of Monaco was going to hear just how hotheaded The Iceman got while your step-mother tried to put your baby half-sister back to sleep.

“Nothing happened!” you sobbed, burying your face in your hands as embarrassment flamed across your cheeks. “I said no, okay. I said no and he called me a frigid bitch before dumping me and leaving me at the party.”

You expected to hear something break, or at least his heavy stomps storming towards the front door. You didn’t expect your dad to throw his head back and laugh, a deep belly laugh that echoed around the quiet living room. 

“Ah, that’s my girl,” he laughed as he bundled you into a hug. “I like that, Frigid Bitch. It’s good.”

You snorted a laugh despite the hurt and wiped your tears on his shoulder. “I thought you would be angry.”

“Oh, I am,” he admitted somberly. He placed a kiss on your head before standing up and pulling his phone out of his pocket. You didn’t see who he was calling so late at night but groaned when it was answered. “Hello, Charles. You know everyone in Monaco, where does Devereux Laurent live?”

“Isä! No!”

Your father ignored you as he grabbed his car keys and his jacket, his phone shoved between his shoulder and his ear. “I’m not going to kill the little bastard, fuck, Charles, I just want to have a chat.”

The door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed back onto the sofa with a groan about keeping your mouth shut next time. You were still ruminating over your life choices when the doorbell rang an hour later. 

“Charles?” You frowned at the man panting in your doorway like he sprinted across the city before your eyes widened at the split lip he sported. “What are you doing here? What happened?”

“Kimi.”

“Fuck.” 

“Yeah.”

You grabbed your purse that had been discarded on the kitchen table when you arrived. “Where is he?” 

“The police station.”

“Shit, he didn’t do that to you, did he?”

Charles reeled back, clearly offended. “No, you’re asshole boyfriend hit me.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you clarified as you dragged him inside and grabbed a tea towel to wrap a bag of peas from the freezer. Charles flinched as you gently pressed the ice pack to his lips and you sighed. “I’m sorry my dad got you involved in this.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the pack from your hand to place it on his swollen knuckles that you hadn’t noticed. “I got myself involved when I heard what Dev did. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t get punched in the face,” you said as you playfully rolled your eyes, however you soon sobered. “It's nothing a few drinks and a bad romcom can’t fix, after I’ve bailed dad out first. It’s not like we were together long enough to get heartbroken. Do you want me to drop you off on the way?”

“I’ll drive.” He snatched a set of keys from the hook by the door, but you caught his wrist and took them back.

“That’s Minttu’s minivan.” You hung the keys back on the hook and grabbed a set for your dad’s Rolls Royce Wraith instead. The empty hook beside it was where the keys to his Ferrari Pista usually hung. “She wouldn’t be happy if you crashed her car again.”

“I didn’t crash her car,” he argued as he pocketed the keys and opened the door. “You were driving!”

“I had a shit instructor. You were too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to teach me.”

His finger jabbed the call button for the elevator as he scoffed. “You only know that because you were too busy checking me out to watch the road.”

The elevator arrived but you held a hand out to block him as you stepped into the small space. “Sorry, your inflated ego is too big to fit in here.” 

“That wasn’t a denial.”

You ignored him and jutted your head to the fireproof door. “Try the stairs.”

“But we’re on the top floor.”

You smirked as the doors started to close but he darted inside before they sealed shut.

“You’re still not denying it.”

“So you really went swinging for my honour?” you deflected as he hit the button for the garage level, exposing his swollen fist again.

“You sound surprised.” He leaned back against the wall and looked at his hand, massaging the tender bruises. “When I saw he was still at the party…”

You frowned, first at the fact that Dev went back after leaving you there, asshole, then at the fact Charles knew where he was. Charles was definitely not at the party, if he was then you would have heard the women going feral for him. “How did you know he was there? You don’t follow him on Instagram.”

“Not on my main account,” he said with a shrug. Anyone that Charles followed on social media made sure to announce the news like it was an instant ticket to ViP treatment, and Dev would have been no different. It was also the exact reason you went by Y/L/N, your mother’s surname, instead of Raikkonen. You didn’t want to be used by people for the name you carried. 

“You hate him, why would you follow him?”

“It doesn’t matter why.”

“It does to me.” 

Unfortunately the doors opened and he pushed off from the wall to stride past without an answer. A flash of lights responded to the click of the button on the keys and Charles slowed his steps for you as he led the way to the sedan parked in a secluded corner, the space beside it empty of your fathers red Pista. Charles stopped at your door and opened it for you, his eyes scanning the open space that was empty and quiet save for the whine of the elevator leaving the level. 

“For you,” he admitted as you slipped into the leather seat. “I followed him to keep an eye on you.”

The door closed and you watched him walk around the car, dropping into the driver’s seat before pushing it back to suit his longer legs. He then silently adjusted the mirrors and turned down the heavy rock music that blasted when the engine started. You didn’t know what to say, all you had were more questions that could only lead to more confusion.

“You deserve better,” Charles said, breaking the awkward silence as he pulled out into the street. 

“He was just drunk.” 

“That’s not an excuse. You deserve someone who will wait until you are ready to have sex, not try it on drunk and at a party.” His words were seething by the time he finished and his knuckles turned white from the tight grasp he had on the steering wheel.

“Uh, Charles, I was joking about my honour…I’m not a virgin.”

“Wait, what?” The car slammed to a halt and he earned a toot from the Lamborghini behind before it drove around when Charles didn’t move. “Since when?” he asked as he turned in his seat to face you.

“I didn’t realise it was such a big deal. Was I meant to stand at the corner and hold a sign that said ‘deflowered’ in Times New Roman or Comic Sans?”

He didn’t even blink at your icy tone and heavy sarcasm. “But Dev said he dumped you because you didn’t want to have sex. He didn’t force himself on you, did he?”

“Oh my god, no! I can’t believe we are having this conversation, Charles.” You figured it couldn't get any more awkward as you looked out the window into the sleeping city. “Sex wasn’t the problem, he was upset because I didn’t want to have sex with him.”

“Oh…oh.” He cleared his throat and put the car back into drive before continuing his way to the police station. “So, uh, is there anyone you do want to, um, have sex with at the moment?” 

“Why? Are you offering?” It was meant to sound teasing but there was too much curiosity in it.

His face flushed pink and his lips parted two twice before his voice worked. “I don’t do casual.”

It wasn’t a no, and that somehow made things both better and worse as a new possibility began to worm its way into your mind. You didn’t like the hope that fluttered in your stomach. Charles was a friend. Charles was someone your father trusted after Seb vouched for him. Charles was off limits. 

By the time you had filtered through the thoughts he had induced, Charles was pulling into the police station and you hoped your dad was fairing well behind bars. It turned out you had no reason to worry as you walked inside and heard his voice from behind the glass wall. 

Kimi was being well taken care of by the officers. He had a coffee in one hand, a pastry in the other and was answering questions that had nothing to do with Dev. You cringed as he recounted why he missed meeting Pelé years ago, but Charles chuckled along with the policemen as you knocked on the door.

The Monégasques fawned over their hometown hero while you watched Kimi pull himself to his feet, cracking his back that had stiffen while he was sat down. 

“I thought you would be in maximum security by now,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. “What did you do?”

He patted your cheek and smiled mischievously. “I like Charles even more now.”

He gave you nothing else but that was expected. Whatever happened was obviously not on the record and you wanted to keep it that way, especially since he didn’t have a single scratch on him - like he hadn’t been in a fight at all. You were quietly contemplating that knowledge when you climbed into the backseat of the Wraith and your father readjusted everything on the driver's side back to how he had it.

“You took the fall for Charles, didn’t you?”

They both swivelled back to look at you. Charles’ eyes widened, while your father’s narrowed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m not going to tell anyone,” you growled as you threw your arms up in exasperation. “I just want to know what actually happened tonight.”

Charles waited to see if your dad wasn’t going to explain as the car pulled out of the station car park. After a moment of hesitation he took a breath and started to rattle off the truth.

“I called Kimi when I realised Dev was still at the party. It was only a block away so I thought I would meet him there to point him out.”

“I was just about at the address he gave me when he called. I got there as fast as I could but Charles was already inside,” Kimi said with a proud chortle. “Got a few good hits on the little bastard too.”

“Iså,” you warned as he enjoyed the violence just a bit too much and Charles looked sheepishly down at his hands. “Why did you fight?”

“You know why. I couldn’t stand by and let him talk about you that way.”

“Good man,” Kimi said with a stern nod. 

“And you, what did you do, dad?”

“What I had to do,” he said with a shrug. “I’m retired, Charles has a career.”

You stretched the seatbelt and leaned forward to hug your dad and kiss his cheek before doing the same to Charles. “Thank you.” Your eyes lingered on Charles as his eyes said everything he couldn’t with your father in the car. 

“He’s not pressing charges but there may be some questions if anyone caught the fight on camera. You might want to give your PR team a heads up.”

It took a moment to realise where you were and why the car had stopped outside the venue where the party was still in full swing. Drunken revellers could be heard behind the velvet curtain hanging over the door and your father handed his keys over to Charles with a shake. “Make sure she gets home safe. I’ll pick it up in the morning, no scratches.”

“Yes, sir,” Charles promised with a nod before getting out.

“You’re trusting him with your Pista?”

“I trust him with you, the car I can replace.”

You surprised him with another hug as your door opened, your voice thick with emotion as you said, “thank you.”

“Do you want to come home?” he asked quietly. “I can make up the sofa bed.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t think I’ll want to get out of my bed tomorrow.”

“Fair enough. Love you.”

“Love you too.” You stepped out and Charles closed the door, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to your father’s favourite car. “He doesn’t even let me drive this, you know.”

“Maybe that’s because you don’t support Ferrari,” Charles teased as you buckled yourself in.

“I support it now.”

“What changed your mind?”

You dared to look at him and met his green eyes. “You.”

—

“Awww, she called her little puppy,” Dev taunted as he spotted Charles walking towards him.

Charles chuckled, but it held no humour and his smile was dark. You had never seen that look in his eye and your thighs clenched in response. “At least she will still call me. You just lost the best thing you never deserved.”

“Well you can have the frigid bitch, good luck getting her to put out though. Fucking cocktease.” The snort Dev made was cut off by the fist that crashed into his nose and then the both of them were going to the floor, grappling and twisting until Kimi darted into the fray and grabbed Charles.

“Go, she’s at home,” Kimi ordered as he pushed Charles back the way he came. “I’ve got it from here, kid.”

The video looped back to the start and you watched it twice more before determining you were fucked. It hit you like a train, the pressure slamming into your chest as you realised you were in love with Charles. No one had ever stood up for you like that, or taken a punch for you or risked their career. But he had.

You stayed cocooned in your blankets for most of the morning, watching the video footage from the night before and it became your new favourite binge worthy entertainment. It would probably be classed as insanity if anyone knew you had become addicted to it, but it was only the fact someone knocked at your door that you placed your phone down.

“Charles? I’m getting a little déjà-vu here,” you commented as you opened the door and found him sweating.

“Will you go on a date with me?” he blurted out. “Please.”

Your brows shot up at the outburst and you checked the student halls were empty before pulling him into your room. “Uh, you do realise who my father is, right?”

“I do, thank you for your concern,” he chuckled. “I was actually just with him. I wanted his permission to ask you on a date.”

“Well that explains why it looks like you’ve been running for your life.” You looked at your door expecting to see it kicked in. “Was he chasing you?”

“What? No, I wasn’t running. Fuck,” he groaned as he ran his hands over his jeans to dry his clammy palms. “I was just nervous about asking you out. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I will.”

“Answer the question or go out with me?”

“I will go out with you,” you clarified with a laugh.

Relieved, he took a seat at the edge of your bed and sighed happily. “I have been waiting years to ask.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded before flopping himself down comfortably and you dropped down beside him. “Your dad scared me,” he admitted as he took your hand in his.

“But not anymore.”

Charles smiled and it was one so similar to the video that was still playing on loop. He seemed to recognise the muffled sound coming from the blanket at the same time you remembered it was there and fished it out. “You’ve seen it.”

“Once or twice,” you lied. “I see why you’re not afraid anymore. That’s one hell of a right hook.”

“Oh no I am definitely still afraid of Kimi,” he corrected as he rolled on his side to face you. “But I am done watching you date assholes when I know exactly how you deserve to be treated. I want to give you the world, if you’ll let me.”

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Bring Us Back to the Heroes We Were

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Wife!Reader

Setting: France

Summary: Daryl loses his temper with Laurent and you are having none of it.

Warnings: SPOILERS, Yelling at a child, mild violence against a spouse

A/N: That scene was emotional. I felt it in my soul. morgan556 suggested this and I had to go with it!

*gif is not mine

You had admittedly lagged behind when Daryl and Laurent had walked away to the waiting boat. Azlan had been so kind to both you and Daryl, smiling and welcoming. He had shared his stories and his wisdom. Even so far from home, you felt less alone in his company. 

You knelt and placed a trembling hand on the fresh pile of dirt. “We’ll get him there. I promise.” Sniffling, you wiped at your face. You turned once, thinking you heard Daryl’s voice but he’d have to be yelling for you to hear him from there. When you heard it again, you were on your feet in an instant, bolting toward the river. That was definitely Daryl. 

“You stupid little shit!” Daryl was leaned into Laurent’s space, fury radiating from him in waves so strong, you lost your breath for a moment. “Do ya know what ya’ve done?!”

“Daryl!” You dropped your bag and ran toward them, your own rage bubbling to the surface the minute your husband’s fingers came in contact with the kids’ jacket. 

“Ya think you’re so goddamn smart! Worthless!”

“That is enough!” You grabbed both of his forearms and squeezed, making sure your nails bit into skin. He was bigger and stronger than you, but you had to get him to let go somehow. Placing yourself between him and Laurent, you shoved Daryl back hard, but he stepped into you and leaned around to point a finger in the kid’s face. “I should’a left ya right where I found ya! What do we do with ya now?!”

“Stop it!” You shoved him again and when he came back, your palm met his cheek with enough force to whip his head to the side. “Get yourself under control! No matter what he did, he is a child! A fucking child! Calm the fuck down!”

The slap seemed to have made him take a breath, his voice much lower when he pointed to Laurent again. “I wanna know why. Why would ya do this?”

Barely containing your wrath, you looked over your shoulder. “Laurent, why would you cut loose the boat?” While your head was turned, Daryl shoved past you and grabbed the kid again. 

“Why?! Tell me why?!”

You grabbed the back of Daryl’s jacket and yanked, nearly throwing him off his feet while you placed yourself between him and Laurent. “Try it again, Dixon. I dare you. If you think I will let you—”

“Everyone I care about is gone.” Laurent’s broken voice had you turning, his tear-filled eyes flickering between you and your husband. “When we get to the Nest, you’ll both go, too.”

“Laurent.” You said gently. 

“I don’t wanna be alone.” 

You didn’t hesitate to pull the boy into your arms, burying your face in his hair and letting him cry. When you saw movement in your peripheral, you turned your head to see Daryl reaching for Laurent, his expression softened, those blue eyes shining. You only spared him a warning look before allowing him to pull the kid to him much as you had done. 

“Yeah. C’mere. I didn’t mean it.” He placed his chin on the dark mop of hair, shaking his head. “It’s gonna be alright.” He let Laurent step back, the boy’s eyes searching the both of you for reassurance. 

“It’s alright.” You smiled gently, wiping away a tear from his cheek with your thumb. 

“C’mon.” Daryl picked up your bag with his own and held it out of you. You snatched it from his grasp with a sneer, glancing over your shoulder to see Laurent staring at the empty spot where the boat once sat. 

You pointed back and forth between you and your husband. “You and me. We ain’t done.” You spun on your heel and wrapped an arm around the boy, setting off on foot to follow the river. 

You heard Daryl’s quiet grumble of “yes, ma’am” behind you before you could hear him following. 

[tototalks]

And so here we are, the final ramble! I just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who has been on this lil reading voyage with me and put up with my dumb memes lol. You’ve all been awesome! Special thanks go to @evilovesyou for getting me to read! 💙

(HAHAHA WTF DO I DO WITH MY LIFE NOW?! 😂)

My final King’s Rising thoughts 👑👑

- Gotta love Damianos, King of Akielos, looking down at a broken cart and being like “I’m too privileged to know how to fix this” while Lazar and Pallas fuck unsubtly in the background.

- LAMEN. CRYING. 😭😭😭 Laurent really chose Damen’s high school bully nickname.

- Charls is an actual MVP. He took one look at Laurent and understood the assignment. He’s a cousin to the King of Vere now. He is actually a part of the royal family. Ring bearer at the wedding. I don’t make the rules. And the absolute best part about it is that he never fuckin finds out 😂

- Laurent is having the absolute time of his life. He’s sat there TRASHING Nikandros and telling all these Akeilon sluts to cover their arms and accidentally reinventing the cloth trade. What a legend 😂

- The night they spend at the inn is so so significant. Laurent realising that he’s allowed to have desires and finally being asked what he wants. But also the undercurrent of being scared and confused by what turns him on because of his history. Damn I love that his traumatic experiences don’t disappear just because he has Damen now.

- I also need a whole book about their trip through Akeilos - Laurent being too pale and northern for the heat is SO real lol

- King Damianos promising to end slavery 🥲

- I need Laurent and Nikandros to become friends who tease each other ruthlessly.

- Okay so the kid is Kastor’s. I have to admit, I really do appreciate Jokaste and her sacrifices to a certain degree - not the whole degree - but a certain degree.

- Laurent giving himself over for Damen’s sake and the child. Holy shit the symbolism. Damen hearing the Regent confirm what he already kind of knew about Laurent and going apeshit, and Laurent realising he’s defending him. 💔

- “Throw up quick, we need to go.” Nikandros, I love you.

- Damen just WALKING IN to surrender. He really said all eyes on me you’re not gonna forget this.

- He stands up for Laurent against all the odds and I cannot even imagine what that felt like for Laurent.

- GUION YOU RAT ASS MOTHERFUCKER (I should have seen this coming.)

- And this is why you NEVER cross a mother about the ones she loves - the Regent is being taken down by every child he abused and that is exactly how I wanted him to fall. So satisfying.

- Paschal’s testimony and it all coming together. I ADORE how no character is forgotten or irrelevant once they die. Nicaise, Aimeric and even Govart were significant to the Regent’s downfall. The perfect evidence for the council to acquit Laurent and charge the Regent.

- I have to mention the 11 year old boy and how Laurent protects him when he sees him worry for the Regent upon his execution. He truly doesn’t understand what’s going on and the manipulation runs deep. Laurent broke that cycle of abuse.

- Kastor vs. Damianos - another fight that was always meant to happen and solidified that Kastor cannot be redeemed, even by Damen’s kindness.

- Laurent being the one to kill Kastor was only fitting. He’s fulfilled himself, Auguste, and Damen, and he used something so himself to do it. His wits. I really love that.

- And finally we have two legitimate kings, friends, and lovers. Ruling over two kingdoms that will probably end up one. An absolute perfect ending. ♥️

What an absolute ride. Shoutout C.S. Pacat for an awesome story ♥️…. I start the side stories Friday 😂 Y’all on tumblr have one more job, and that’s to fill my inbox with AO3 links 😉🥰 I have a character song playlist to curate lol

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

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

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

---

Chapter Twelve: Consequences

Now Playing: Breakin’ Dishes by Rihanna

I listened as Billy told us all the story of Taha Aki and his family, how they dealt with the Cold Ones. I had heard this story before, when Bella and I had come over with Charlie as children.

Bella fell asleep after a while, and Jacob picked her up to take her back to Edward. I had gone back with the rest to Emily’s house.

I showered and put on my pajamas, walking out to sit on the couch as Jared set up some movies. Emily made popcorn and Sam dug out blankets.

The movie Jared ended up turning on was some action movie I wasn’t particularly interested in. It wasn’t bad, though.

I fell asleep about half way through, and I woke up in my bed. I wasn’t sure how I got there, but I figured one of the guys put me to bed so they could fold out the couch bed.

I made my way towards the kitchen, only to find Sam, Jared, and Paul sitting around the table looking grim.

I slid into the seat closest to me, asking them, “What happened?”

Jared handed me a newspaper.

On it, the title read, “Seattle Terrorized by Slayings.” Underneath the title, I read about nearly fifty people having been killed at random. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the brutal murders; no racial bias, no gender bias, not one part of the city safe from the attacks. The only thing that authorities have determined was that all the victims were from ages twenty to thirty, with a few victims being in their late teens. I felt sick.

“We will be patrolling more,” Sam said grimly, “We are meeting with the Cullens.”

“Do you think it’s… supernatural?” I asked, my brows drawing together, “It could be human doings, there’s some sadistic people in the world.”

“There’s not a fingerprint there, no tracks, not a single thing pointing to human murders,” Paul said, his voice tense and his body pulled taught, “Better safe than sorry.”

I pursed my lips, nodding.

---

Bella called me.

“You saw it, right?” She demanded, her voice hushed. I knew what she meant.

“Yeah, we all saw it.” I confirmed, and I heard her sigh in relief on the other end of the phone.

“Carlisle asked for help from the Denali coven, the one I told you Laurent had stayed with,” she explained, “They won’t help us, if this is caused by Victoria.”

“Why?” I asked, slightly confused. Weren’t they friends with the Cullens?

“Laurent was involved with one of them,” she said angrily, “And now the Denali coven wants to kill the pack because they killed Laurent.”

I was silent for a long moment.

“Fuck Laurent and fuck them, we don’t need their help anyway,” I said slowly, anger simmering in my chest, “He tried to kill us, he deserved to be destroyed.”

Bella agreed with me, adding, “Yeah. Listen, I need you to talk to Sam. If the things in Seattle are because of Victoria, we need to work together or everything will be for nothing.”

“He wants to talk to the Cullens,” I informed her, “I think it’s going to be some of the others who need convincing.”

“Okay,” she said, “Okay. I’ll call you, if I know anything else.”

“Back at you,” I tell her, “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/n.”

The call disconnected, and I ran back to the front of the house to tell everyone what I had learned.”

---

Bella said that Alice was having a party. We both agreed that it was a stupid idea.

Sam wants to speak with the Cullens, but he doesn’t trust them. He wants answers, he wants to know what they know.

I think he believes that they’re somehow the cause of everything, and I don’t really disagree. I think, though, that the Cullens are trying to keep everything safe and close to their chest.

Jacob got Bella, but they hung out at his house.

I was making food with Emily, watching as the guys cycled in and out of the house. Sam had everyone doing double shifts, and it was taking a toll. When they weren’t out in the forest, the pack was sleeping. I had to coax them awake to get them to eat, and as soon as they were finished, they were right back asleep.

Paul had just gotten back from his shift to trade out with Embry, when Bella stormed into the house. She was holding her hand, furious and crying, and I was quick to rush to her side.

Despite his weariness, Paul woke himself up to oversee everyone’s safety.

Bella’s hand was broken, and Emily was the one to look at it. She explained what happened, and I stared at her. I was still as a statue as she spoke, my eyes wide as fury exploded in my chest.

I shoved to my feet, my chair tipping over behind me as I stormed outside to find Jacob. Paul was on my heels after smacking Jared awake to watch over Bella and Emily in the kitchen.

I stormed over to where Jacob was standing in the yard, debating if it was worth it to break my hand to punch him, too.

Instead, I stopped an arm’s length away from him and watched him coldly. I was so angry that I was shaking, and I demanded, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My voice almost didn’t sound like me, and it would have been a bit more startling had I been less upset.

“Y/n, listen—” he started, but I cut him off.

“I don’t give a single damn about what you have to say!” I snapped, “I know you like my sister, and no one fucking liked Edward, but that doesn’t give you the right to kiss her against her will!”

“Y/n, it’s not that bad, I—”

I cut him off again, “If Edward doesn’t kill you, I very well might, you pushy, idiotic, piece of shit.”

I turned, looking to Paul.

“Explain to him what consent is, because it seems like the constant fever has gotten to his brain,” I ordered, “And keep him away from the house.”

I stormed back to the house, listening as Paul started to lay into Jacob.

---

I took Bella to the Cullen’s home. It was the first time I had ever seen it.

We marched in and I saw Edward first.

“What happened?” He demanded, and Bella explained everything to him.

I was still fuming, and Edward was tense beside me as Carlisle fixed Bella’s hand.

“Don’t touch any of the others,” I muttered, “But Jacob’s free game.”

Edward inclined his head, “We share similar sentiments on him now, I see.”

“If I could have, I would have broken his nose.”

---

I ended up staying the night with the Cullens.

Alice made me shower, since I “smelled like wet dog,” and gave me some of clothes to wear instead. She stuffed me into a pair of black pajama pants several sizes too big, tying them a tightly around my hips. The shirt, which was also slightly large, was a band tee for Metallica.

Bella and I took monopoly over the couches, Edward sitting beside her.

Emmett and Rosalie had come out of their room, and Emmett asked, “What happened, Bella? Walking and cheering gum at the same time?”

“Punched a werewolf,” she corrected, and he laughed loudly.

“Which one?” He asked eagerly, “That why your sister’s here?”

“Jacob,” I answered, “Feel free to break his jaw, if Paul didn’t for me.”

Emmett grinned, sitting down happily beside me, “Paul’s the one who tried to beat my ass when I accidentally got over the creek, right?”

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “No hard feelings about it.”

Emmett laughed again, “If we weren’t supposed to hate each other, it’d be cool to wrestle. They’re bigger than the bears that I hunt.”

I raised my brows, “I’ll relay the sentiment.”

After a minute, my phone rang. I picked it up and I walked back outside, listening to Paul’s voice as it crackles to life on the other end of the line.

“How are things over there?” He asked, “Are the lea— Cullens taking care of your sister?”

“They’re nice, the good doctor put a brace on Bella’s wrist, Edward’s taking care of her right now.,” I informed, then asked, “How are things over there?”

“Pack’s a little divided,” He told me honestly, “Some think Jacob wasn’t overly in the wrong, Emily, Leah, and the rest of the girls think Bella should’ve been able to break his nose.”

I hummed, “What about you? What do you think?”

“I think I hate vampires and want you and Bella away from them, but that Jacob had no right to kiss Bella when it wasn’t what she wanted.”

His answer was good, and I told him as much.

“Good answer,” I murmured, “You get some brownie points.”

“For being a decent person?” He said dryly, “Thanks, Y/n. I’ll take them where I can get them.”

I snorted, “Alright, Hot head, whatever. Meet me over at my house? I think I’ll murder Jacob if I go back over there, and I need to tell Charlie about Bella breaking her hand.”

“Took care of it already,” He replied, and I could hear him walking to the door, “I’ll see you over there.”

I hung up and kissed Bella’s temple, hesitantly patting Edward on the shoulder as I left. I felt awkward in their house, but I thanked them for their help and hospitality.

———

Sorry this was put out so late!! Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed!!

Also, this was about when I started realizing that Stephanie Meyer wasn’t a good writer in general bc Jacob and Edward weren’t shit and Bella was a victim of both at any given time

Also also, I got a few requests!! I’m so happy and I’m working on them rn!! They should be out sometime this week and thank you guys so much for the interest in my writing 🥰 I adore yall 💕

(Ps I got a guinea pig and he’s adorable and SO soft)

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (VIII) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 1.4K

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all to the taglist.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

Dinners

It’s inbetween race weeks, the couple are back in Monaco, and after Cecilia talked to Sophie and her parents she decided to host a family dinner. Jos is also invited, with both families present Cecilia had a hope that Jos would come around and he’ll change his mind about her and her daughter. He’ll get a chance to see Max with Nattie and she knows that seeing how in love they are with each other it would change his mind. Max is his son after all and she found that whenever he’s with Nattie he has always a type of happiness that isn’t there when he’s doing anything else he loves, it’s a type that is only reserved for a father and his daughter. Even if Nathalie doesn’t call him dad and Max never referred to himself as her dad it’s not something they have to say for it to be true.

Cecilia and her mum were at it in the kitchen for hours the day before preparing everything so they’d only have to cook and finish everything the day of the dinner. The couple’s house wasn’t as big as her family's, but they did make sure to have a big dinner table to host dinners and family gatherings and to welcome Max’s family whenever they’re in Monaco.

Nathalie was having the time of her life with Victoria’s children and Laurent’s(her brother) children, the kids had a bunch of toys out on the living room floor with Max watching over them with Börje and Laurent. The women were in the kitchen finishing up, gossiping and waiting for Jos.

Cecilia heard the bell ring, while she was busy in the kitchen. She looked at Sophie in question, who shook her head. Cecilia nods to herself knowing her dad and Laurent will leave a good impression for her, she hadn’t told them about her conversation with Jos, only that he was a bit hesitant about her and that she wanted to win him over. Cecilia reassured them that Max didn't care about what his dad thought but she wanted to win him over nonetheless, it would be for the better good of everyone if he did.

“I’ll start taking stuff out.” Laurent’s wife Layla said with Victoria following after her. Cecilia heard Layla and Victoria greeting Jos.

“I’ll go say hi.” Cecilia said wiping her hands on a hand towel, she was feeling nervous, the female rarely felt nervous, she drives cars with speeds over 300 KM/H for a living but Jos always left her nervous. On her walk to the living room she passed Laurent who was going to help bring things out of the kitchen. The kids were unaware of the little tense atmosphere that settled on the adults in the room. “Hello Jos, thank you for coming.”

Cecilia put her hand out for him to shake, with the eyes of his son and her dad on him he couldn’t refuse shaking her hand even if he didn’t look overly happy about it.

“No problem.” He said stiffly but Cecilia smiled at him nonetheless, she stepped back and found herself stepping into Max, he placed a hand on her back, his thumb moving slightly in comfort.

“Food is finished, we can move to the dining room.” Cecilia informed them right as the mothers called for their children to come to eat. Nathalie looked at Cecilia and Max before she too jumped up and ran to Max, pulling him.

“I’m hungry.” She whined, Max pulled her up in his arms as she squealed and the group moved to the dining room.

Max and Cecilia had some food made for them to fit their diets, and who's to say that they didn't eat something their trainers wouldn’t be too happy about, what they don't know won't hurt them. They’ll just run an extra mile to burn it off.

Cecilia thinks that her dad has some type of magic powers because how did he get Jos to smile and laugh with him like they knew each other for years. Börje is a businessman, he's a smooth talker and he's seen all types of men and knows how to deal with them. He's seen the likes of Jos before and he knows the type of man he is, he's not the happiest about him being related to his daughter, but he'll never disapprove of Max because of who his father is.

Cecilia is grateful to her dad being able to get Jos talking and laughing, before he went and said something negative towards her, because if this happened then her dad would make sure that Jos was never in her vicinity and that would certainly make family gatherings awkward.

“What are you talking about?” Laurent asked seeing his dad and Jos in an intense conversation.

“Just sharing our stories on raising F1 drivers.” Börje said with a teasing smile aimed at the couple, Nathalie sitting comfortably on Max’s right, engaging in an animated conversation with her cousins.

“How did Cecilia get into driving? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before.” Victoria asked, interested in where this conversation was going.

“Oh god.” “Here we go again.” The Hansson siblings groaned knowing how much their dad loved telling this story, their mum laughed at the identical look on her children’s faces.

“What? I haven’t been asked this in so long.” Their dad defended himself to the amusement of Max’s family. Max had his hand on the back of Cecilia’s chair, he pulled her closer to his side and kissed her forehead as they settled in for the story. “So, Cecilia is around four years old and my brother is watching a Nascar race on the TV, she sees how much my brother, who she was obsessed with back then, was into the cars, and because she loved him so much she wanted to copy him in everything, she became to me begging to drive a car, didn’t matter what car, she wanted to drive a car.”

“She was relentless.” Her mum added.

“After like five weeks of insistent begging and crying I took her to a karting track.”

“And me as well.” Laurent interjected, he remembers hating karting and doesn’t know how his sister could be so into it.

“Yeah, yeah, but you hated it, finished a few laps and was already out of the car, your sister was in the car for as long as they allowed her, and when the time was over we couldn’t even get her out of the kart.” Börje had a smile on his face as he was telling the story. “Again she cried and cried, got her one of those video games simulator things for kids, and every weekend we’d be at the track, when my brother was over from Sweden one time he came with us and saw her drive, said she had potential, and that it looked like she’s doing good for her age, so when Cecilia didn’t show any signs of wanting to stop we booked her lessons and started looking into academy’s, she was young when she started racing and met Charles and Pierre, it was nice meeting families with children who had the same interests. My Cece always did so well.”

Cecilia smiled at her dad, who had the proudest look on his face.

“And I’m here, helping run the family business and he still isn’t as proud.” Laurent said knowing it’s not true, but he likes to keep his family on their toes.

“That’s not true.” “Laurent!” His parents said at the same time one in defence and one in scolding.

“So why did you want to be an F1 driver and not a NASCAR?” Sophie asked Cecilia.

“I grew up here in Monaco, so every year the Monaco GP is like the biggest event, and I remember hearing the cars back then and just loving the sound of them, and when we got tickets for the GP when I was six, I felt like I wanted to be there, driving those cars.”

“But it wasn’t easy.” Max stated, making Cecilia look up at him and smile.

“It wasn’t, but it’s never easy for anyone to make it to F1.” Cecilia shrugged, brushing off her struggles to get into F1 just because she’s born a female, and the time she had to take off while she was pregnant. “It only gave Max a head start.”

“Look, we both know who the best driver in this house is.” Max smiled.

“ME!” Nathalie exclaimed, making them all fall into laughter.

“That you are, Schatje.” Max kissed her head and smiled at Nathalie.

War is over I guess… for now.

Next ->

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader . @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 . @skynel09 .

[glittergelpensblog]

Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader) Part Two

Part two! Thank you so much for all of the support for part one! I have so many ideas for this series and can’t wait to see where it takes me :)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2,577

Part One

It wasn't until you felt Elain's hand on your back that you finally let go of Feyre.

"Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room." Elain spoke.

Mrs. Laurent looked like she wanted to do no such thing, glancing between the three of you. It was with one final glare to Feyre that she turned around and made her way to the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________

Elain and Nesta sat on the opposite side of you and Feyre. Everyone quiet, too scared to speak, too scared to find out what made your sister return home.

It was she who finally broke the silence, "Where is father?"

"In Neva," Nestas voice was sharp. " Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world and attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."

You drew in sharp breath. A threat above the wall? Why hadn't Nesta mentioned that to you? Why didn't she tell you anything?

"Whatever the reason, Feyre," Elain spoke softly. "We are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were--"

"I never thought that." You sent a look to Elain before your gaze met Nesta's. You knew it was coming, knew the look in her eyes.

But before she could snap back at you, words bound to be as sharp as knives, Feyre pulled down the hood of her cloak down.

Elain's hands immediately began shaking, teacup rattling in her saucer. Your eyes widened as you took in your sister. Her slimmer figure, her taller stature. Her ears.

She was Fae.

"I was dead. I was dead, and then I was reborn--remade." Feyre's voice shook.

Elain set down her cup and Nesta angled herself, the movement barely noticeable, between them and Feyre. Her hand slightly stretching out, as if she wanted to take you behind her as well.

Feyre did nothing but hold her gaze with Nesta. "I need you to listen."

You were silent as she told her story. She spoke of the trials Under the Mountain, about Amarantha, how the red-headed witch had killed her, and then how the other Fae gave her back her life. She briefly mentioned leaving Tamlin and her new life in the Night Court. Her job with the High Lord. She explained why she was back. The threat at the border. Hybern. What she needed you to help her with.

You knew Feyre was different the moment you saw her. Yes, she was beautiful, almost glowing. But you knew something was wrong. You saw it in her eyes, her tight lipped smile. You felt it in the way she barely hugged you back. The horrors she endured, they had changed her, had taken her warmth.

"You--you want other High Fae to come... here. And... the Queens of the Realm." Elain's soft voice was nearly shaking.

"When?" you asked, not bothering to look at your other sisters, your gaze only on Feyre.

"Find somewhere else." Nesta spat.

Feyre turned to face Nesta, getting ready to speak again.

But Nesta wouldn't allow her. "Find somewhere else. I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain. Or near Y/N."

"Nesta, please," Feyre begged, "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me--"

"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than Children of the Blessed, then?"

"Because they cared so much about us when we were starving!" You snapped. "When we were nothing but a poor, dirty family in a rotting cottage? Why do we care what they think when they never cared for us?"

Nesta ignored you yet again. "Any standing, any influence we have--gone. And Elain's wedding--"

"Wedding?" Feyre blurted, eyes scanning Elain's left hand, the dark iron wrapped around her finger.

"In five months," Nesta said. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."

"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre's voice was quiet, the answer found in Nesta's silence.

Your mind was a blur as you took it all in. The Fae are what took Feyre, what had taken many lives before hers. They would cross the wall to torture, to kill, the Beddors a recent wound still fresh in your Village's mind. But the Fae had also saved Feyre, gave her life. If they truly were as bad as human's thought, then why did Tamlin spare Feyre's life? Why did the High Lords resurrect her?

"Nesta," Elaine spoke again, "If... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from... from them. We keep it secret-- we send the servants away. With spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know."

"There is no other way." Feyre held her gaze with Nesta.

"We'll send the servants away tomorrow." Nesta said.

"Today, we don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."

"I'll do it." Elain stood, brushing off her skirts.

"I'll help," You joined, following your sister into the kitchen, mind racing with a million thoughts. You would never get Feyre back, never the way you thought you would. You would never live together again, never have her head against your shoulder as you played the piano late at night. There was no way she could come back, not with her new found life.

You pushed back the tears in your eyes as you approached Mrs. Laurent.

______________________________________________________________

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked Nesta.

Feyre was still in the drawing room when you called Nesta from the hall, feigning that you needed assistance with getting something out of your Father's study.

"Why didn't I tell you what?" Nesta said.

"What Father was truly doing in Neva? That there was a threat above the wall. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you could've done anything," Nesta's voice was low. "There is nothing you could've done but worry."

"We could've helped, like we are right now--"

"Which we shouldn't be doing! We are putting ourselves in jeopardy--"

"As Feyre did for us," You glowered, "As she did every day in those woods, nearly freezing to death every winter. For us. We are helping Feyre in the way she helped us, in the way she kept us alive!"

"All of the servants have left," Elain's soft voice interrupted, saving you from the next cruel words to spew from Nesta's mouth. "Feyre said there are others here, for us to meet."

You followed Elain into the drawing room.

______________________________________________________________

Feyre entered the room, cloak gone, and you couldn't help but stare at your sister. This was her life now. She wore an intricate gown, probably worth more than you and your sister's gowns combined. Her body was adorned with jewelry, including a crown at the top of her head.

Behind her stood three men, the first, in the middle, seeming to radiate power, the High Lord, you assumed. His dark hair and fine black clothes contrasted with his violet, almost glowing, eyes. The one to his left seemed wild, ancient. He wore an outfit made of leather, adorned with glowing red jewels on his hands, chest, and shoulders, his dark brown hair almost reaching them. And he had wings, giant wings, almost like a bat's.

And to the High Lord's right was what had to be the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was dressed similarly to the man on the left, wearing black leathers, but with blue gems rather than red. His face was narrow, sharp, expression calm as he looked at you and your sisters. His dark hair slightly covering his forehead, a strand nearing his hazel eyes. Like the other male, he also had large, bat-like wings.

You tucked your head down as Nesta stepped in front of you and Elain.

Feyre stopped a few feet in front of you before she spoke, "My sisters, Y/N, Nesta, and Elain Archeron." She paused, allowing you all to take in the men before you.

"Cassian," She gestured to the man on the left, then slightly turning to the right, "Azriel, and Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. "

You stood silent, surveying the powerful men. The hairs on you neck stood, and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to calm yourself. Though the were Fae, they wouldn't hurt you. They had taken in Feyre, cared for her. And they were here to protect you.

Rhysand bowed to you and your sisters. "Thank you for your hospitality--and generosity," A warm smile graced his features.

You smiled back at him, and the other two men. "It is nice to meet you," You fought to keep your voice steady.

Nesta looked at Feyre, then the men. "The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold." She said before she strode off to the dining room

You followed Elain out as she sputtered a "Nice to meet you" to the three men.

Nesta sat at the head of the table, Elain to her left, and you took the right. Feyre sat beside you and Cassian next to Elain, Azriel on this other side. Rhysand slid into the seat next to Feyre .

The two winged males struggled to sit, adjusting their large wings with the back of the chair.

"Would you like a stool?" You asked, noticing their efforts to remain comfortable.

Nesta scoffed at your gesture

"Thank you, but we'll be fine." Cassisan said to you with a reassuring smile.

Feyre was the first to open the dishes of steaming food. Everyone was silent as they began preparing their plates and eating.

Nesta eyed Feyre as the latter took a bite, struggling to chew.

"Is there something wrong with our food?" Nesta clipped.

"No," Feyre replied, reaching for her water, her face slightly tinged pink.

"So you can't eat normal food anymore--or are you too good for it?"

Nesta truly could not leave it alone for one night. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even."

Your face became hot as you blushed at your sister's words, and you heard Cassian nearly choke on his water. Nesta just laughed lowly.

It was Rhys who intervened, attempting to diffuse the building argument. "If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different."

You didn't even know visiting Prythian was an option. Perhaps there was hope that you would be able to see your sister outside of the circumstances you were in.

Nesta's glare shifted from Feyre to Rhys. "I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"Nesta, please," Elain whispered.

Nesta ignored her, looking at Cassian who was assessing her with a smirk on his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Cassian's brows rose, the amusement on his face gone. "Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while the other youngest dealt with sleazy men at the pubs, all while you did nothing. " Your face flushed at his words, not knowing what Feyre had told them of you. "Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died--died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make--and insult my people in the process."

Nesta ignored him and turned to Feyre, Cassian's face filling with rage.

"It... it is very hard, you understand, to... accept it," Elain spoke to him, "We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered... it's all very disorienting."

"We know you are not here to hurt us," Your voice was steady a you looked between the three men, "But it is rare we experience Fae who are to help and not hurt."

"I can imagine," Azriel spoke, the first you had heard his voice the entire night.

"Nesta and I did not know what to do, how to work or hunt. Our lives were taken from us overnight. We were scared, had received no training, we failed them. Both of us." Elain said.

Feyre turned to face Nesta. "Can we just... start over?"

It looked as if it took everything in Nesta to back down. "Fine."

"Can you really fly?" Elain took Cassian's attention from Nesta.

The rest of the dinner went well after that, Nesta being as civilized as she got while the Fae explained their magic, the Illyrian race, and "Lesser Faeries" or Cassian called them. The meal was ended with a discussion of the sleeping arrangements for the night, Nesta assigning you the task of showing them their rooms before they began working on their letter to the queens.

After you had given them the directions to their rooms, you pulled Feyre aside while the three men began their work, most likely eavesdropping on your conversation.

"I missed you," You spoke, gently grabbing Feyre's hand, "How are you, truly?"

There was a long pause before she replied, "I don't know how to feel... I don't think I know how to feel. What happened Under the Mountain, the horrors I had endured... I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

"Is it better, at the Night Court?"

Feyre breathed deeply, looking out the window, up towards the night sky.

"With Tamlin, it was like I was drowning, suffocating. Everywhere I went there were sentries behind me. I was never left alone, I couldn't leave the house. What happened Under the Mountain broke me, but living in that house, it felt like I was trapped under there all over again.

"At the Night Court, I feel... free, I suppose. There's no breathing down my shoulder, no one telling me what I cannot do, where I cannot go. What people think of what I do doesn't matter. I have a job, people to protect... but it doesn't feel like a burden, I don't know what it feels like..."

A purpose.

"What Rhysand said, about visiting Prythian..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, a dream you were too scared to say aloud, like telling one a wish so it wouldn't become true. "Can that actually happen, can I actually visit you there?"

Feyre struggled to keep the tears in her eyes, you were so full of hope, so full of life, of innocence.

She couldn't let you visit, not right now, with war so close. She needed you here, safe.

"Maybe someday in the future, when things are safe. When this war is done with. Maybe then, you can come see me."

"I would love that."

"I would too."

______________________________________________________________

Tag list: @lizziesfirstwife @waytoomanyteenagefeels @starryhiraeth @knmendiola @bionic-donut @caosfanblr @lena-davina @starriestarlight @younxii @starsdoulikedem @lucyysthings @esposadomd @naturakaashi @carolinaflicker @missusbarnes-rogers @vlysseve @lollipop974 @whydohumansss @spaxxxi

[emeryhiro]

My take on the current fandom discourse

As well as a little reminder.

It hurts and is unfortunate to see many people on here and on Twitter who are worried and hurt by things they saw within the new teaser and sneak peek and their interpretation of what it means.

So I've decided to post this as a little reminder of who Daryl and Carol are to each other and how much they truly mean to each other, hoping that it can reassure at least a few of you.

I won't be disputing people's interpretation of the teaser and sneak peek, but I will be using a parallel I saw within the sneak peek and another similar scene. I'll let the gifs below speak for themselves for a moment before I continue, and I think most of you will know exactly where I'm headed with this.

She gets hurt She dies She catches a fever She gets taken out by a walker... She gets hit by lightning Anything... anything happens to her, I'll kill you.

- Daryl Dixon TWD 07x10

These were Daryl's words when the Kingdom, Alexandria, Hilltop, and everyone he knew were in danger, and even then, not even for a split second was he willing to put Carol's life and safety on the line.

There is not an ounce of doubt in me that Daryl feels any differently now; in fact, his love for her has grown even more because of everything they've been through since and all the time he's been forced to be away from her, never knowing if he'll ever see her again.

If the way he cared for the people of Alexandria, Kingdom, and Hilltop combined couldn't outweigh how much he cared for Carol, there is ZERO chance that Isabelle, Laurent, and the people from Nest ever could.

When Daryl finally lays eyes on Carol in season 2, compared to her, nothing else will matter to him anymore. The second Carol is ever in danger, Daryl will immediately prioritise her safety over all else.

Of course, he'll help the Nest as much as he can, and so will Carol; that's who they are, but if it ever came down to choosing between one or the other, they will always choose each other.

Yes, it's his nature to always fight for people who need him, but his feelings towards Carol led him to overcome that nature once, and he'll do it again without a second thought.

Trust the man who risked his life looking for her daughter

Trust the man who instantly ran into danger to protect her

Trust the man who ran into her arms when they reunited

Trust the man who would risk death to keep her safe

Trust the man who held her when she lost her children

Trust the man who ran to shelter her from seeing her son dead

Trust the man who puts himself between her and danger

Trust the man who stood by her when she lost herself

Trust the man who always made sure she was okay first (this)

Trust the man who has always put Carol first

Trust the man we've known for 13 years!

In 07x10, as a last attempt to convince Daryl to follow the plan and sacrifice Carol to save everyone else, Richard says:

"What we have to do requires sacrifice one way or another... Guys like us... we've already lost so much"

Daryl responds by saying:

"You don't know me"

Because it's true, Richard didn't know him, he didn't know what Carol meant to him, he couldn't imagine, but we do. And just like Richard, the people in France don't know him and don't know how much Carol means to him, hence why they don't understand him no matter how many times he has said that he has his home to get back to and promises he needs to keep.

So why don't they understand? Why doesn't he tell them about her? Why doesn't he explain who he wants to get back to and why? Wouldn't that just make things easier?

The amazingly insightful @haircoveredwriter reminded me of something here: Why didn't Richard expect Daryl's reaction towards Carol being put in harm's way? Why do Isabelle, Laurent, and Losang not hear Daryl when he tries to explain himself?

Daryl has always held the people he cares about the most as close to his chest as possible, like they're his fragile secrets, like he's scared of sharing them in case they get hurt or he loses them. Of course, you might say that that's more something we do as children, but we can't forget that Daryl never got to have a childhood, and he lost the only people he ever loved while growing up, so no, I can't fault him for trying to protect the person he cares about most, even if it's not in the most conventional ways, instead of talking about her and sharing her with anyone he has an acquaintance with.

This is also a way for Daryl to protect himself; I can see how he believes telling others about her is like advertising his weakness, his achilles heel, like holding up a sign to them that says "Here, this is where you can hit me if you want it to hurt the most. This is my weakest spot. This is how you take me down".

Speaking about her out loud is too painful; a reminder of how much he missed saying her name, what he can't have and may never be able to see again.

Listen to the hesitation and the way his voice softens when he says, "There's a lady named Carol" after Laurent asks who he misses from home, and how within a second, we see his guard go right back up again.

Look at how he can't help but smile when he hears her voice saying his name again after however long, or how he can't stand still, and his shoulders move like someone who's overwhelmed by an emotion that they're trying to contain.

The Daryl we see in the new teaser/sneak peek and the Darly we'll be getting in TBOC season 2 is the exact same Daryl he has always been, the one that's always seen as distant and guarded on the outside and a man of few words but incredibly loud actions; almost all of these have been developed as a self-defence mechanism, but none of these means that internally he isn't dying to leave France and get back to her, to hold her again, to see her smile again, to make her laugh again, to wipe her tears when she cries, to be her support and man of honour again.

The list from earlier in this post is just a few examples (of many) of how he has repeatedly shown us, through his actions, that she is the most important thing in the world to him.

~~~~~~

To wrap this up I just wanted to say that I can't wait to see how their bond strengthens even more in season two because I see these two as the definition of soulmates.

I love them, I love how they love each other, and I always will.

Or in @lola-andheruniverse's wise words (her post), which have stuck with me:

"I'm choosing to hope [and trust] and ignore the fear of disappointment... I'll always love them... They changed the way I understand love, and I'll never regret a second spent loving them."

For those who want to watch the scenes mentioned above, the timestamps are as follows:

TWD 07x10 scene between Richard and Daryl is 8:45 - 14:27.

TWD: DD 01x05 scene between Laurent and Daryl 9:20 - 10:50

TWD: DD 01x05 radio call between Carol and Daryl

Thank you to those who read through this; I know it's a little long, and I could have honestly made it 3x longer because I always have so much to say about these two, but I hope it helped ease your minds, even if it was just a little bit.

[formercarylshipper]

Norman once said about Daryl, “he wears his heart on his sleeve and he means what he says, and if he falls in love, he’s going to fall in love forever”. This spinoff has proved that’s false. Or more likely, it confirms that the “i love you” between Daryl and Carol was indeed platonic. He loves her but he’s not IN love with her. Because if Daryl was in love with Carol, then he wouldn’t have developed feelings for Isabelle and he certainly wouldn’t have kissed her or started planning a future with her.

I just feel like everyone tried so hard to sell a Caryl story and made sure that they took advantage of Carylers hopefulness to tease us something that we couldn’t believe might FINALLY happen. They started using TWDCaryl as a hashtag and all of the actors and EP’s (yes, including Melissa) spread just enough “hints” and content to keep us hanging on. We naively thought that the lack of mention of Isabelle meant that she wouldn’t be a concern because it was a Caryl story and if she had any importance, then she would have more mention.We had absolutely no idea what was coming our way. What we were actually getting. No one except the anti’s thought it would be what it ended up being.

Then Zabel opened his mouth and made his thoughts about Caryl perfectly clear. Then Norman did (plus he low key hates Carylers I think?) and Melissa said that she never knows what to say when people tell her that they want Carol and Daryl together romantically and that she likes them the way they are. And then AMC doubled down on the whole BFF thing. The signs were there. People started pulling away but some stayed hopeful.

Then the whole season got released. And clips were posted of Isabelle’s actual importance to the story. She (and Laurent) is the bulk of Daryl’s storyline. His developing feelings for her, their kiss, planning their future together, her death and then Daryl’s mourning at the loss for the remainder of the season (and into S3 apparently). Then Laurent becomes his primary concern. Carol plays ZERO role in Daryl’s world until she shows up and even then, she’s there to support him through his man pain.

Now we’re here with 2 episodes left and while some Carylers are still here for the ride, many more are not watching S2 and now with Isabelle’s death, the Darabelle/ABC shippers are pissed off and threatening not to watch. It just feels like a series of bad decisions. I know we still have S3 but who is gonna still be around to watch it?

[romerona]

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: Harassment, canon violence. Word count: 8K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Shells Town, 153 Marine Branch.

Y/N, huffing and puffing, speeds walk through the townspeople, she was late for her shift at Food Foo and all because of that absolute idiot.

That little fucking weasel, he is. Ugh!!! just thinking about it makes her blood boil even more. Whatever, it’s her own fault, she should have known better than to get close to Cygnus or any man really.

She scoffs to herself. ‘She’s no good’ As if he was any better. Both of them had their own things, their own faults, Y/Nthought that was part of why they connected in the first place but it seems she was mistaken. And Y/N would have believed that was his reason for 'dumping' her but she has heard the rumours. She has heard the whispers of him charming up the daughter of one of the lieutenants...

It doesn’t matter anyway, she has been in Shells town for about 6 months now, and she should probably leave soon.

When she finally arrives at Food Fo, Y/N sends Ayana a guilty look when the owner of the restaurant sends her the ‘warning’ look.

Y/N didn’t wait for her to start scolding her, she quickly walked behind the counter, left her guitar there and grabbed her apron, wrapping it around herself and muttering as she did. “I know I know. I’m sorry, Ayana,”

“At least you're here. It seems today is going to be a busy day,” the woman said from the bar, nodding at the plenty of marines, most already falling in their cups.

“Lovely,” Said Y/N with no enthusiasm.

The Marines are the worst. The very fucking worst, they are vile and foul.

Ayana hums in agreement as a cook passes a platter of dumplings, she takes it and then passes it to Y/N before pointing at the table on the back. “Table 5, then take these drinks to 11.”

“Got it,” Y/N nods and quickly makes her way to it, smiling at the customers, a couple, charmingly. “A plate of dumplings for you, a couple of peanuts. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

With that, she left to take the drinks to table 11 whilst greeting her coworkers with a smile as she walked past them. Hours pass and Y/N continues her shift, ignoring the shameless flirting and other hiccups…

“Here are your pork chops and Oden Soup, and not to be biased but our Oden Soup is the best in the whole town,” Y/N said as she softly laid the plate on the table before smiling at the couple and parroting, “Okay, let me know if there’s anything else I can help with, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” said the guy.

“I wasn’t aware they hire about any skank from the streets,” the girl says under her breath before glaring up at Y/N.

“Bree!!” The boyfriend looks at his girlfriend With exasperation.

The girl, scoffs crossing her arms, “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the way she’s parading herself around? Everyone here notices it,”

“Bree, please can you not?”

“Can I not what, Laurent? Can I not call her out for her attitude, huh? Why are you defending her?”

Y/N purses her lips, holding back the words that want to escape her lips and takes a couple of steps back, “I’m going to go now…”

“Yeah, you do that,” sharply said the girl, once again her narrow eyes on Y/N.

The girl simply turns and makes her way back to the bar. She leans against the bar and closes her eyes, a tired sigh leaves her.

“Bad table?” Asks Asimi, one of her many coworkers and friends.

Y/N shrugs turning to her, “Nothing unusual, but today has not been my day…”

“I’ll switch mine with yours,” said Rei, another waitress, as she passed a new order to the cook. “I have the most entitled Marines right now, they had me return their meals 3 times already because it's just 'not like what they’re used to' like one would think they got their swords stuck up their ass or something,”

Y/N and Asimi laugh.

“I’m being serious, Y/N, switch tables with me. They’ll be less dickheads to you thanks to that pretty face of yours.” Rei said pinching Y/N's cheek.

Y/N shakes her head, moving away from the girl's fingers, “Thanks for the compliment babes but I’ll take my chances with the match made in heaven,”

“Worth a shot,”

Ayana places two cups in front of Y/N and points at the group in the back, “Table 3, please Y/NN,”

Y/N takes the cups and walks to the table of Marines. She once again smiles at the men as she sets the drinks down. “Here you are! Two beers for the gentleman’s.”

“Hey sweetheart, can I get another round of sake?” Said an older Marine from the next table to them.

Y/N nods, “Sure thing, sweets, anything else you want?”

“Is a kiss from you on the menu?” Laughs the old Marine earning chuckles from others.

Ugh! Disgusting!

“Not on this one, fortunately for me!” Y/N said as he picked up a few empty cups. “However, If you read the menu closer there’s your captain's number in there somewhere maybe you can call it so he can give you that kiss you want? Hope you don’t mind steel, though,”

The Marines around them laughed and so did the older man, Y/N was slightly relief because there had been instances where the Marines did not enjoy her… sense of humor.

Y/N didn’t wait for a response she simply took the last empty cups and made her way back to the bar. She turns to Ayana “A bottle of sake for table 4”

Ayana nods as she looks for the bottle, and Y/N lets her head fall back. She pressed her hands on her shoulders.

Gods, she hates working. Why does she continue working in this job?

Then, as if on cue, Y/N felt two tiny arms wrapping themselves around her middle. Ah, yes, because she’s a softy…. And money.

“Y/NN!!” Rika, Ayana’s daughter, looks up at her.

“I was wondering when you’ll show up,” Y/N laughed as she leaned down to return the hug. “How was school, Rikis?”

“It was alright,” Rika shrugs stepping back, she grins. “I practised the cup trick you showed me,”

“Did you? Well, in that case, you have no choice but to show me, little miss,” Y/N smiles at the girl, she nudges the girl with her elbow teasingly as Ayana places the bottle of sake on the bar.

“Nooo…” Rika chuckles hiding her face under her hands.

“Rika, go change,” Ayana tells her daughter motioning the door that leads to the kitchens.

“We’ll talk about it,” Y/N takes the green bottle and winks at Rika as she moves to take the sake to the Marines.

A couple of more hours pass and the bar thankfully the customers flow in and out with ease. Y/N was glad that her shift would soon be over so she could finally play with the band.

“Take the orders from 16, Y/NN, then you're off,” Ayana says with a nod at the two boys who had just sat down at a table.

“Right on,”

Y/N makes her way to the two boys, one of them has pinkish hair, and round glasses and the other a dark curls under a straw hat and a red vest.

“Hello guys, welcome to Food Foo!” Y/N smiles at them like she does with all her customers. “Can I get you, handsome gentlemen, some drinks to start before deciding what to order?”

The boy with pink hair turned a shade of deep red, a shade Y/N had never seen very little in her life, it was kind of funny. “Uh… I- I…”

“No need, I want one of everything and a milk, please.” Said the boy with the straw hat, smiling back at Y/N.

Y/N was slightly surprised but nodded nonetheless, “A big appetite you’ve got there sweets.”

“Ah, I just love food,” the boy said, tapping his stomach with a grin.

“Who doesn’t?” Y/N nods, writing on her pad, “Food is the best part of life, I’ll say.”

“Right?!! It’s just amazing,”

Y/N laughed at his excitement, he was like a puppy. He was cute. She then turns to the boy in round glasses, “What can I get you to drink, pretty boy?”

“Uh… a- a water would be nice, thank you,” the bright red was still displaying itself on the boy's cheeks.

“Alright, everything will be ready in a few minutes, boys,” She told them, “If you want anything else, please don’t hesitate to call for me,”

With a last smile she left them. She then went to do a few more rounds, cleaning away the dishes and cups, collecting money and such before she was called to pick up the food for the two boys.

“Alright, here you are!” Y/N places the plates on the table. “One of everything,”

Before she even finished putting the plates on the table the boy in a straw hat was already almost finishing his first plate.

“Thank you,” the boy said, his muffled by the food in his mouth.

The boy with pink hair sends her a small grin, “Thank you, miss.”

“No problem boys, call if you need anything else,”

As she left, she glanced at the clock and let out a sigh of relief. Her shift is over, thank the gods. She walked behind the counter took off her apron and took her guitar before walking through the kitchens, where she greeted the cooks.

“You playing today, Y/NN?” asks Gunny, one of the cooks, offering her a plate of chips.

She grins at him as she takes one chip, “Yeap, and I better see you at least once, dumpling. Even if it's peaking.”

“Y’know I never miss your performances,” said the man returning her grin.

Y/N walks to the back of the bar where there is a small room for employees, to change into her clothes. She put in a bit of makeup, some light colour over her eyes, a bit of pink in her cheeks and painted her lips a soft red shade.

“You look so pretty, Y/NN… can you paint me too?” asks Rika, she had slithered her way into the small room a few minutes ago and was watching her do her makeup.

“Last I did, your Ma wasn't happy about it, Rikis,” Y/N told her looking at the girl through the mirror as she twisted her silver locks in a loose braid. “And considering she's the one I'm renting my room to and my boss, I’d rather not risk it.”

Rika huffs in disappointment, leaning against the wall. “You think one day I'll be as pretty as you?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N smiles at her and pulls Rika to look at herself in the mirror next to her. “You are the prettiest girl I know, Rikis.”

“Really?” asks the young girl.

Y/N stands from the old vanity table and sits the girl on the chair. “You so are, sweet girl,” She takes the girl's hair to pull it on a half-up style. “See? You have the prettiest face, and a pretty smile and pretty eyes… and most importantly a pretty heart."

Rika smiles at herself in the mirror, and a giggle escapes her. Rika was such a good child, so very kind. As she stares, Y/N wonders with longing if she has grown to be kind and nice, she should be a couple of years older than Rika if Y/N recalls correctly…

“Are you going to play a love song?” asks Rika, snapping Y/N out of her train of thought.

Y/N wrinkles her nose and shakes her head, “Don’t think so, Rikis.”

“Why?”

“I’m just not feeling it,”

“How come? Did something happened with Cygnus? Did you broke up with him?” The young girl inquires, her eyes twinkling with intrigued.

Y/N let’s out a chuckle, “You are very noisy, sweet cheeks.”

“I’m just informative,” Rika shrugs innocently.

“Of course, you are.” Y/N scoffs a laugh, she nudges Rika’s shoulder. “Come, let’s go out.”

“Oh, please Y/NN,”

“Nope. How about you go make me something sweet for after the show?”

They walk outside, Rika complaining about Y/N not telling her but the older girl simply ignores her and leaves her near the counter before walking to the bar band.

“Hello, dears, ready for tonight?” Y/N said as she approached the three older gentlemen, they had been letting her play a few songs a night with them since she arrived, always practising new songs on the slow days and late nights.

Duke, the violinist, nods as he takes a large gulp of his beer. “As always, lovey.”

“Never expect any less,” Y/N grins, she moves to the small wooden stage, guitar on hand and her charm full on.

As soon as she did, a few cheers echoed around the bar.

Using a Den Den Mushi, Y/N’s voice rings out through the room, with a charisma and ease that speaks of years of practice. "Why, hello everybody!" she exclaims, gazing at the growing crowd of Marines and civilians. "How’s the day been treating ya lot? Better than me I hope.”

The audience cheers, and Y/N’s smile grows wider and lets out a laugh. “Very good, very good.. but how about a song to better it, aye?”

She launches into her first ballad, her voice rising with the rhythm of her guitar.

“I've been sleepin' in my mind

But now my heart is risin'

Risin' with the tide

Floating on a wave

Buoyed by the sea

Carry me away 'cause the world is not for me”

The crowd claps along, lost in the music and the charm of the girl on stage. It's a moment of pure joy, as Y/N’s voice fills the room with sweet melody and a spirit of celebration.

As she continues her song, Y/N noticed someone in between the crowd, a blonde pain in the ass. It took everything in her not to roll her eyes at the sight of Helmeppo.

Out of everyone, the son of the captain (as he always likes to remind everyone about) was the most spoiled, disrespectful, persistent and annoying guy she had come across in her short years of freedom and best believe she had met some annoying people but no one can compare to the blonde with the bad hair.

No matter how many times Y/N has asked him to fuck off, he simply refuses to. It’s as if he couldn't understand the words that come out of her mouth… honestly, she’s never one for violence but she’s getting to a limit.

“No matter where you land or how far you may fall

You have heart, you have hands

And the highest calling of our lives

Is to find the grace at the very place we stand”

With the final chords of her song, she finishes with a flourish and a cheerful smile. The crowd erupts in applause and cheers, ready for more of Y/N’s enchanting performances.

“How’s that for starters, eh?” Y/N’s chuckles at the cheers.

She gives the crowd a cheeky grin and strums her guitar with an extra dose of gusto. She launches into another lively tune, her fingers dancing across the strings as she belts out the words. The crowd is absolutely hypnotized, swinging their heads and tapping their feet to the beat. Y/N’s energy is contagious, and it's not long before the whole bar is rocking with cheer.

The vibe is electric, and it's clear that Y/N is the star of the show. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long because just as she was making her way to the second verse there was the loud distinguish sound of a sword being drawn and the loud pompous voice of Helmeppo ran through the bar.

“Oh, come on, tough guy. Three swords?”Y/N saw him pointing his sword at a green-headed guy who didn’t seem to care as the spoiled blonde teased. “I only need one.”

Y/N tried to keep going but it was almost impossible when the guy with green hair deflected Helmeppo's attack and easily pushed him down, and soon after, a brawl between five or so marines and the one green-haired guy with… what looked like three swords. The guy fought them with ease, he never even drew any of his swords only using his hands as a defence.

It would have been impressive… if he hadn’t thrown one Marine towards her drummer, knocking him back onto the floor.

“Holy- Stu!!” the band gathered around the man who was under a groaning Marine officer.

When Stu is being helped by the other meme era of the band, Y/N turns to glare at the green-headed guy only to see him grab Helmeppos from the floor and pin him against the bar.

“Don’t kill me, please.” Helmeppos pleads with the guy, showing his true colours. “My father will give you anything you want.”

The green-haired guy asks “Who’s your father?”

“Captain Morgan. He’s in charge of the Marine base.” Whimpers Helmeppos.

“Then he owes me money.”

And with that, the green-haired guy dragged Helmeppos and a sack… of something out of the bar followed by a few other Marines.

“Fuck, am I bleeding?” The voice of the Marine woman. She wasn’t bleeding but there was a big red spot in her head.

Y/N helps the woman up and sits her on a near by stall. “No, you're alright.”

“Hey, Y/NN bring some ice for Stu, looks like he got a bump.” Said Duke.

“Yeah,”

As she made her way to the kitchen, she came across something more interesting… an orange-haired girl taking the uniform off a knocked-out Marine and hiding it under her clothes, nothing subtle about that.

The girl didn’t seem to have noticed Y/N, much to her surprise, until she spoke. “Y’know if you walk out of here with that uniform you’ll get arrested, right?”

The girl jumps up and turns to Y/N. “My boyfriend, he got hurt fighting off the drunk guy, I'm just taking it off to prevent it from getting dirtier.”

Y/N looked down at the middle-aged man with receding hairline and then at the orange-haired girl who was definitely too pretty to be the fallen Marine anything but… she’ll play along.

“Right, well, in that case, let me bring you a bag so you can put it there instead,” Y/N said, she turned to leave but was stopped by the girl. She grabbed her arm and turned her back around.

“I don’t need—“

“Believe me, pumpkin, you do!” Y/N motions to the bar exit which is surrounded by other Marines who seem to have already forgotten about the fight. “And unless you don’t want to get dragged to the cells I’ll recommend you wait for me here and let me bring you a bag, I promise it’s not a trap or anything.”

“That’s exactly what someone who’s planning a trap would say,” the girl with bright blue eyes said, still not letting go of her arm.

Y/N shrugs, “Maybe so, but I don’t have any reason to do that.”

“And you don’t have any reasons to help me either,” the girl replies instantly.

“Ah, but I do,” Y/N got closer to the girl and whispered without breaking eye contact, “Fuck the Marines,”

With that Y/N backs away from the girl's hold and moves to the kitchens. She swiftly takes some ice from the freezer and wraps it around a napkin and then a paper bag. She only hopes the girl actually listens to her.

Why are you helping, you might ask well, Y/N has a history with them beyond her interactions with them in the bar and knows their lack of morals. They are good for nothing and always abuse their power… so, fuck them.

Thankfully, the girl did listen to her. When Y/N went back to her she was met by the sight of a pant-less Marine. “Oh, no honey. You do not want to use his pants.”

“Can’t you just give me the bag and move on?” Said the girl, clearly annoyed.

Y/N sighs as she passes her the paper bag. “Sure but I’ll just say that if you wear his pants you’ll look like a clown.”

“Why do you care what I look?” The girl says ripping the bag out of her hand.

“I’m just helping a girl out, that’s all.” Y/N shrugs glancing at the girl's legs. “Listen, I know it’s none of my business—“

“— you’re right, it’s not.”

“— but whatever is it that you’re planning will be ruined because of a pair of pants. So, if you need some pants that go with that shirt, I might have something that could work for you.”

The girls look at Y/N suspiciously “What do you—“

“Y/N, what’s taking you so long?” Duke shouts earning the girl's attention.

“Yeah, coming,” Y/N turns to the girl with the orange hair, “I’ll be out in about an hour, if you want you can meet me in the fountain just a few houses from here,”

With that Y/N makes her way to the stage and gives the napkin to Stu. “Here! Press it firmly because it seems like you're growing a horn, dear.”

“Quit messing with me, girl!”

After a few more minutes of helping Stu out, it was more than decided he couldn’t play anymore so, they cut the show short. Unfortunately.

So, to kill time, she ordered herself water (Which she dumped a large amount of salt when no one was looking) while listening to Rika theatrically replay what happened with Helmeppos and the guy with green hair, a pirate hunter. It seems Helmeppos finally meet the ass-beating he’s been looking for…. Good.

She should give the guy in green her gratitude.

“And he also said my chocolate cover rice balls were delicious,” Rika blushes.

Y/N chuckles, placing a hand on her head, “Don’t tell me little Rikis has a crush on the pirate hunter,”

Rika blushes even further, she swaps Y/N’s hands off her head. “Stooopppp, Y/NN, it’s not funny,”

“Right, sorry.” Y/N chuckles, and she takes a sip of her salty water. “So, are you going to let me taste those delicious chocolate rice balls or those are only for the hunter?”

“Mom said I can’t do that anymore,” Rika said with a huff of dissatisfaction.

“Shame, I really wanted to try it.” Y/NN pouts.

“I can make you something—“

“You should go home and get ready for school tomorrow,” said Ayana from behind the bar.

“But mom-“

“No, go home, Rika. It’s getting late.”

“Fine,” Rika huffs as she stood up from her seat and turns to Y/N, “Night, Y/NN.”

“Nighty sweet girl,” She said back, waving as the young girl leave.

Y/N sighed taking a sip of her water and looking around the bar, it wasn't her first time working as a waitress but this one bar, she had become accustomed to. It was a nice place, she’s never really appreciated it but it was, people here were friendly, caring, kind… Y/N almost does not wish to leave but she has to, she has to keep moving otherwise the past will soon come knocking banging her door down.

“Y/NN,” calls Ayana, making the girl turn to her. The older woman places an envelope in front of her. “This month's pay plus tips for the performances.”

“Thanks,” Y/N takes the envelope and looks in it. A happy amount of berry…. This should be enough. “Hey, Ayana,”

The woman hums in response as she passes a bottle of rum at a Marine before moving to wipe something off the bar.

“I think it’s time for me to go,”

That made the woman stop and turn to her with a frown. “What? Why?”

“It seems now the time,” Y/N smiles at the woman, “I did tell you I’ll be here temporarily,”

“Yeah but… I thought you’d stay a bit longer, it’s been what two-three months?” Ayana moves to face Y/N.

“Six but y’know what they say, time flies by when you’re having fun,” Y/N grins at the woman who in return rolls her eyes. “But, I do need to leave, Ayana. I’m sorry.”

She regards Y/N for a moment she purses her lips before nodding, “If it can’t be helped, I suppose I let you go.”

“You’ve helped me immensely, I really don’t know how to thank you for all that,” Y/N tells the woman honestly.

“Don’t,” said the woman as another waitress came to give her something, “You’ve been a delight to— what do you mean they won’t pay?”

“I reckon the boy with the straw hat said he’ll come back to pay you once he’s king of the pirates.” Said the waitress.

Ayana huffs, and she shakes her head. “Bring him here because I swear to the all four blue seas today it’s not the day to fuck with me.”

The waitress leaves to bring the poor soul who’s about to get their ass handed today. Ayana scoffs crossing her arms, waiting which she hadn’t had to do for long because the waitress returned not seconds after with two familiar boys in tow. One looking oblivious and the other nervous.

“Hello!” Said the straw hat guy.

Ayana narrows her eyes, “Don’t hello me, you little punk, where’s my money?”

“You see, I don’t have it yet but I promise I’ll come back once I find the one piece to pay you. With interest.”

“The one piece?” Scoffs Ayana, “Who do you think you are, boy?”

“I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I will be king of the pirates.” The boy, Luffy, said with pride and too much conviction that if Y/N didn’t know any better she’d actually believe him.

Ayana shakes her head in disbelief, “Well, Mr future King of the Pirates, unfortunately, I can’t let you leave without paying so either give me the money you practically inhale in food or I’ll have to call the Marines to take you, your Highness.”

“I do need to get inside the base—“ Luffy was cut off by the pink-haired boy.

“No, please, listen is there something we can do to make up for it?” He asks, fidgeting where he stands, obviously nervous under the woman’s gaze.

As Y/N watched the two boys she couldn’t help but chuckle. There was something about this Monkey D. Luffy… he is so unique. So, she decided.

“No need to do anything, pretty boy,” Y/N said earning everyone's attention. She puts a few berry bills on the table. “That must cover it, right?”

“Y/N, you don’t have to pay for them,”

Y/N smiles at Ayana who was frowning back at her. “Call it my last good deed on this bar,”

Ayana huffs, she stares at the Berry before shaking her head. “Keep it, kid, for your travel.”

“No, honestly, Ayana—“

“I won’t hear anything else,” Ayana sighs, massaging he sides of her head as she walks Into the kitchen. “I need a drink,”.

After a moment of silence, as Y/N was reluctantly pulling the Berry back into the envelope Luffy speaks.

“Hey, thanks for that,” he said causing Y/N to turn her head to him.

“No problem, Monkey D. Luffy.” She grins at him.

The pink haired boy walks forward cheeks comically still red, “W-why did you offered to pay for us? It was quite a lot.”

Y/N shrugs, “I’ll scratch your back you’ll scratch mine, right?”

“You want us to scratch your back?” Luffy tilts his head making Y/N laugh.

“No, stud,” Y/N shakes her head as she moves to her feet, she smirks at Luffy placing a hand forward. “However, I do hope you remember my name when you become the King of pirates,”

Luffy takes her hand in his and shakes, “Why don’t you join my crew? We’ll need a musician on board to keep the spirits high, you’ll be perfect.”

Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “I’ll swallow my own guitar before becoming a pirate,”

“What? Why? Being a pirate is awesome,” asks Luffy, the boy was still shaking her hand.

“Because I have had bad experiences with them, so, I’ll much rather not be part of that life,” Y/N said, looking down at the hands that still shake. “You can let go of me now, stud.”

“Oh, right!” Luffy let’s go of her, “But just because you’ve had bad experience with Pirates doesn’t mean they are all like that, we can be different.”

Y/N smiles and looks behind the boy at the clock in the wall. “Maybe but I’ll rather not find out the bad way again. I’ve to go now, Monkey D. Luffy, it was nice meeting you.”

She turns to the pink hair boy with round glasses “You too…”

“Koby,” the boy informs.

“Koby. It was nice meeting you lot,” Y/N says before moving to the exit, ignoring the cat calls from drunk Marines.

As she walks to the fountain, she can’t helped but scoffs at the thought of her being a pirate out of all things. Pirates took everything from her, in what world would she ever become in the thing that almost destroys her?

“Took you long enough,” The familiar voice makes her head snap up.

Y/N grins as she approaches the girl, “I know, sorry. Would you believe me if I told you I just met the future king of the pirates?

The orange-haired girl scoffs, "Another fool who believes they can find the one piece? Right."

"Ha!" Y/N chuckles, shaking her head. She does share the sentiment. "He seems very determined, perhaps he’ll actually do it, though I doubt it,"

"I'll belive it when I see it," The girl scoffs again, she then seems to sober up to ask Y/N, "So, the pants you mention?"

"Right, they're in my room, it's not ar from here just a few houses down," Y/N tells the girl who narrow her eyes.

"Convenient,"

"You can stay here if you want?" Y/N offers, with a tilt of her head, "I have no problem in getting them for you, pumpkin,"

The girl stares at Y/N for a moment, trying to figure out if she's lying or not. "... Fine, I'll wait."

"I won't be long," Y/N calls as she continues her walk to the space just in between a shoe shop and a gardening store.

As soon as was inside her room, Y/N lit up a few candles to light the small room. She puts her guitar down and goes to the dresser to search for a pair of pants, she did own quite a bit of clothes so it would take her a minute. Ever so often, Y/N comes across the few vials of poison she stacks in her clothed for safety and a few of her modified hand fans reminding her that she has to buy a few more vials just before leaving Shells town.

After another minute she finally found the black pants and was on her way back to the girl with orange hair.

"Here! They should fit,” Y/N said, leaning against the fountain and watching as the girl unfolded the pants and placed them over her legs.

When she was satisfied she nodded before folding it back again, narrowing her eyes at Y/N "Why are you helping me? And don't bullshit me with that fuck the Marines excuse. Even as someone who hates the Marines, you're going out of your way to help, why is that?"

"Is it too hard to belive some people just like to see them burn?" Y/N chuckles, she sighs, stiffing a little as she speaks. “The Marines fucked me over, more than once… I just want to make their life miserable even if just a little,”

“And what do you want? Nothing ever is for free in this life, so tell me. I’ve got berry-“The girl huffs crossing her arms.

“I don’t need Berry,” Y/N interrupts, she shrugged thinking for a moment, “Unless you have a boat I don’t think there’s anything you can give me,”

“Say I do, what do you need a boat for?”

Y/N gazes at her, “A ride to the next town,”

“Fine, be at the docks by 12, and not a minute late or I’ll leave you,” the Orange-haired girl said sternly.

“Deal,” Y/N holds her hand out, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Nami,” she shook her hand once.

Y/N nods with a wink and starts to walk away, “Right, well, good luck tomorrow, Nami. I’ll be thinking about you,”

Y/N thought she saw a smile on Nami but it was gone as soon as it came.

When morning rolled around, Y/N, with her one bag packed and guitar in hand made her last errands, which included saying her goodbyes to Riki and the employees of Food Foo, it was a teary one but it was better than leaving without saying goodbye. She then needed to get some poison…

There is where everything went to shit.

She needed poison and to get it she had to buy it from Cygnus, unfortunately. Cygnus owns a fish shop in the market street but it was a cover for other more illicit sells.

When she got there Y/N was met with her ex-fling and his new and very hostile victim. Y/N knew who she was, the girl was the daughter of an influential lieutenant of the base, and she like Helmeppos made sure to use it as a threat.

The girl was known for getting people she didn't like in jail for the stupidest things and out of fear most people rather stay out of her way or let her walk all over them.

Y/N, in all honestly, didn't care about her but it seems she should have at least been a bit careful because it wasn't even 10 minutes into the awkward and tense negotiation when she was being dragged to the marine base because the girl started screaming that Y/N was trying to rob them. And for what? Because she told the girl to mind her business after being spoken over once again.

Foolish on her part, because now, she's in Captain Morgan's/Axe hand Morgan’s office when she ought to be waiting for Nami in the docks.

"Trying to rob someone, I heard?" Said Morgan, a large man with a steel jaw. "Didn't think a pretty girl like yourself would commit that petty crime."

Y/N purses her lips, "Because I didn't. Either way, I didn't think the Captain of this entire Marine base would oversee the case of a petty crime, which once again, I didn't commit."

"Only on special circumstances. Take a seat,Y/N," Axe's hand told her, and he motioned with his head to the chair in front of his desk.

Y/N didn't move her gaze from the man with the steel jaw, "I'm okay standing,"

Morgan laughs, "How stubborn of you but I respect it."

His eyes shone with something Y/N had seen many times before and didn't like at all. Desire. Shit, she should’ve known when she was allowed to keep her belongings.

“So, care to tell me why were you attempting to rob the fish shop?” The man asks.

Y/N jaw clutch as she held back an eye roll, “I wasn’t.”

“Then why Kaori accused you of it?” Morgan inquires, his eyebrows shooting up in expectation though, to Y/N it felt as if he was mocking.

“Because she’s insane and a spoiled brat,” snaps Y/N, narrowing her eyes at the older man.

“We’ll, she does has the tendency to exaggerate,” Morgan said as he slowly got up from his seat and made his way around it, “Buy still, it’s her word against yours, a girl that’s been in Shells town for around what? Six months? You see how I can’t simply ignore the statements of my lieutenant’s daughter. However…”

Y/N’s gaze didn’t falter as the man stood in front of her or flinched when his axe hand moved a piece of hair away from her face. It was all very familiar, unfortunately.

“It would be a shame to string you up in the yard… good thing for you I’m willing to come to an agreement that can benefit us… that is if you manage to convince me, pretty girl,”

Y/N glared up at him, her eyes hardening as she prepared to send him away but thankfully for her, before she could, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m busy.” Scowls Axe hand Morgan.

The door opened and a meek Marine girl peeked through. “I-I’m sorry, Captain Morgan but this situation needs your immediate attention.”

Morgan sighs tiredly, he nods at the girl waving his normal hand dismissively. “I’ll be there,”

The Marine girl nods and closes the door, leaving Axe hand to look down at Y/N, “I’ll be back in a minute so we continue where we left off, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

Y/N didn’t respond she simply watched him leave and of course, he locked it behind him.

“Shit,”Y/N sighs, still stiff feeling her heart pound in her chest.

She takes a deep breath, not knowing how much time she has until Morgan comes back, she quickly looks around the very… ugly, self-centred office. No wonder why Helmeppos is the way he is.

Y/Ntried opening the windows with all her might but the damned thing didn’t bulge. She tried the door, despite knowing it was futile. She tried and tried but there was no way out.

When she heard the sound of the keys unlocking the door, Y/N tensed as she reached for her War fans that were hidden into her waistband and waited. It wasn’t until she saw the familiar Orange hair and straw did she let herself calm.

“Nami?”

The girl's eyes widen as she enters the office, “Y/N?”

“Y/N?” Calls Luffy a smile gracing his face as he follows Nami inside the office. “Oh, hey! What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Nami asks, locking the door behind her. “You know him?”

Y/N looks between them, and sighs. “Long story. What are you doing here. Is it part of your plan?”

“We’re here for the map,” Luffy exclaimed excitedly as he looks around the office mumbling “woah, this guy really likes himself.”

“No, I’m going to find the map.” Nami said as she moves near Y/N, where Captain Morgan desk is. “Let’s pretend he’s not here.”

“But I am here.” Luffy says.

“Wait, what map?” Y/N asks looking at Luffy and at Nami who was scooping through Morgan’s things.

“The map to the grand line,” Luffy said, a grin on his face.

Y/N blinks, ignoring the bickering of the two as the information processing. The grand line? They’re going to steal the map to the grand line… her hearts starts to pound again but for a different reason.

"Every idiot dreams of finding the One Piece." Nami's voice snapped her out to another piece of important information.

Looking at Luffy, Y/N asks, "You're planning to travel to the Grand Line?"

"Yeah!" Exclaims Luffy with his usual grin, "To find the one piece,"

"People like you believe in something and you don’t even know what it is." Nami huffs as she continues to scoop through Morgans's belongings.

"Well, yeah. Don’t you?" Luffy fiddles with the telescope, pointing at Nami, "So why did you decide to become a thief?

Nami spares him a glance, "I didn’t decide. I needed to eat. You do what you have to, to survive."

"Ain't that the truth," Y/N mumbles as she as well gazes over Axe-hand Morgan things.

"You’re right. Nothing more important than food." Luffy moves around, touching just about everything in his way before he turns to Y/N. "And why did you decide to become a singer?"

"I've always enjoyed singing," Y/N shrugs as she decides to help Nami and opens a drawer. "There was a time when I couldn't, so, I made it my mission to sing all I wish anywhere the sea takes me,"

"Is that your dream? To sing around the world?" Asks Luffy.

Y/N shrugs, opening another drawer, "For the most part, I suppose,"

"Can you all just shut up and find the map?" Nami scowls looking through the pages of a book.

"Where you reckon he has it-"

Y/N was cut off by the desk suddenly sliding out of place, displaying a large hidden safe. They all looked at each other before Nami dropped beside it and placed her head near the lock.

Suddenly, an alarm started to blast, echoing all around the base.

"Shit," Breaths out Y/N, she moves to the window again, trying to pull it open.

"Uh… Do you think they know we’re here?" Luffy asks as he lowers himself next to Nami.

"No, I think they’re after the other thief and idiot pirate trying to steal a map." Nami scowls sarcastically.

Luffy grins, "What are the odds of that?"

Both Y/N and Nami, stop their doing to stare at the boy in a straw hat.

Luffy looks between the girls before uttering with an innocent chuckle "Kidding."

"Nami, not to stress you or anything but can you work a little faster?"

As soon as those words left her there was a banging on the door making the three of them jump.

"Open up!" Morgan's voice rang through the door along with the bangs "By the authority of the 153rd Marines!"

"You need to hurry," Luffy stresses.

Nami grunts, her ear still near the lock, "I can’t rush this!"

Morgan was now using his axe hand to get inside the office.

Y/N moved next to Nami, "There's no time for that,"

"I have an idea," Luffy tells the girl forcing Nami to move as the straw-hat boy grabs into the safe and starts to pull.

"Are- are you trying to pull the safe out?" Y/N asks in disbelief, trying her best to ignore the growing hole Axe-hand Morgan was creating on the door.

"Yeah," Luffy grunts as he continues to pull and pull and much to her surprise his arms were starting to... stretch?

Y/N tilts her head in confusion and amazement. She and Nami shared a look when the safe actually seemed to bulge.

The door bangs again and Y/N doesn't waste a second, she grabs Luffy's waist, Nami following her after her. Before Y/N is aware of what is happening, she feels her stomach rise to her throat. They were falling out the freaking window.

"Fucking..." Y/N grunted when they reached the ground, she felt her side hurting from where she had landed but there was no time for that. She quickly dropped the annoying bags off her shoulders and stood up, shaking off the pain.

"How did you do that?" Asks Nami as she rips the Marine's shirt off.

However, before Luffy could answer, they were surrounded by Marines. Y/N quickly pulled out her two war fans and took a defensive stand next to Nami who was holding onto her staff.

She used her quick reflexes and agile movements to evade their attacks while landing swift blows with her fans. With a quick flick of her wrist, she knocks one Marine to the ground and uses the momentum to twist her body, dodging another. Her movements are as graceful as they are deadly, and she slips through the chaos of battle with remarkable ease.

Meanwhile, Luffy and Nami are in their own battles, each utilizing their unique skills to take down the Marines. Luffy, with his fists and legs, dodges and attacks at will, while Nami wields her staff with expert precision, taking in multiple Marines at once.

However, more and more Marines kept coming. It was starting to get overwhelming. Y/N suddenly felt a sharp pain in her back making her stumble, she turned to fight off the Marine but to her surprise, someone else had joined the fight and sliced the Marine off of her.

With a final fierce strike of her fans, Y/N takes down the remaining Marines and is quick to meet with Nami, Luffy and-- "Hey, aren't you the guy from the bar?"

"The drunk?" Nami added to the question.

"Glad I made an impression." The guy said, sparing the girls a glance.

They turned their attention to the man who had just entered the yard. Axe-hand Morgan.

"The imposter, the pirate hunter, the thief and the prisoner." Called the Captain as he approached them, looking between each of them. "Fancy that. The four of you working together."

"Yeah. We’re a crew!" Luffy declared to which the three others were quick to deny.

"Nope, not a crew."

"Nah-uh,"

"Not together."

"No enemy has ever escaped my wrath. I alone defeated the Black Cat Pirates." As he brags, Morgan begins to take off his Marine vest, displaying his scars from past battles, "I alone captured Kuro of the Thousand Plans. And I alone keep Shells Town safe from the scum of the East Blue."

He takes a fighting stan and so do the four others.

Y/N held into her sharp war fans, hoping some of the paralyzing poison she had covered the blades with hadn't all worn off.

Morgan's first strick was met with the guy with green hair swords but was thrown off, then Luffy tried to strike him but was unsuccessful. Y/N was going to slice his face off but a grunt from Nami stopped her, noting she was fighting the upcoming Marines off herself Y/N decided to help because even if all her impulses were yelling at her to cut Morgan's dick off she wasn't about to leave Nami to fend for herself.

Nami uses her staff to block the Marines' attacks, while Y/N uses her fans to deflect and dodge their strikes. The two work in unison, their teamwork making them a formidable force to be reckoned with.

Nami strikes out with her staff, taking down one Marine after another. Her strikes are powerful and precise. Y/N uses her fans to take down the others, she strikes with precision, her movements fluid and graceful and when all of the Marines are down, Y/N turns to Nami, both girls sharing a look of respect for one another.

"Gum Gum Whip!" Luffy's voice rang through the yards forcing them all to turn to watch as his leg stretched inhumanly before kicking Axe-hand Morgan, knocking him off.

"Whoo!" Luffy celebrates his victory.

Y/N shares yet another look with Nami as both girls put their weapons away.

"Gum Gum Whip?" Asks the green-haired boy.

Luffy nods excitedly as he approaches the other guy, "Yeah! All the great fighters call out their finishing moves."

"No, they don’t."

"Some do," Y/N breathes out, turning to him, "What's your name, Hot Shot?"

"I'm Roronoa Zoro, pirate hunter," The guy, Zoro, said as he put his three swords away.

"And the future greatest swordsman in the world," Luffy added with conviction.

"Well, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet ya,"

Nami interrupted, looking over at the safe, "Hate to break up this beautiful moment, but we need to get this safe out of here."

"Some rope might be useful." Y/N hums, looking about while taking back her disregarded things.

But then, as if it were nothing, Zoro grabbed the safe and hauled it up into his shoulders.

"Or we can do that." Y/N mumbles, gazing at Zoro, impressed. It was kind of hot.

Soon, the four of them were jumping into Nami's small boat. She gave Y/N instructions to pull up the anchor as she unfolded the sails

"Careful with that!" Nami scowls Zoro when the guy all but throws the safe down.

"Whatever you say." Zoro tells her as he continues to roughly move the safe into the small boat, "Oh, wait. I don’t work for you."

Nami glares at Zoro prompting Luffy to speak. "I’m sensing a little bit of tension amongst the crew."

"Not a crew!" They all rebottle.

Ignoring them, Luffy stands on the dock looking around, "I can’t leave without my friend."

"Koby?" Y/N asks as she finishes pulling the anchor up.

Luffy nods, "He should be around somewhere,"

"Can’t wait,” Zoro tells him, "The Marines will be here."

"The Marines are here already." The annoyingly familiar voice of Helmeppos made the four of them turn to him, he was holding two guns up, "You’re under arrest."

"What happened to you?" Y/N, unfazed by the guns, laughs.

Luffy nods, laughing with her. "Yeah, what’s wrong with his hair?"

"Yeah, I might’ve done that," Zoro informs them, proudly.

"Nice work, Hot Shot" Y/N chuckles approvingly.

Helmeppos fires a shot near Zoro forcing a shriek out of Y/N, however it seems that she was the only one to have a reaction to a gun being fired because not even that fazed the pirate hunter, Nami or Luffy.

"I won’t let you make a joke of me. I’m taking you in and handing you over to my father." Helmeppos said, an air of superiority oozing out of him. "I’ll be the hero. I might even get a medal or something--"

Helmeppo's rant was cut short by Koby, who had satisfyingly punched the blonde down.

"Koby?" Luffy exclaims, impressed by his friend's actions.

"God, that hurt!" Koby looks down at his fist but then he smiles, "It also felt really good too."

Luffy swiftly urges Koby near the boat, "No time to explain, but we gotta go. This whole island is trying to kill us."

"I’m not coming with you," Koby said causing Luffy to halt his steps.

"You sure?" Luffy asks.

"Before we met, every choice was made for me. But now I’m gonna do what I want to do." Koby said with determination making all the others stare at him, "I’m gonna be a Marine. I want to help people that can’t help themselves."

Y/N smiles at him. She can tell he has a kind heart which is more than what half the Marines will ever have. She can only hope that he protects it.

"Next time we meet, we might be enemies," Koby tells Luffy but the straw hat boy didn't seem bothered by that.

"But for now… we’re friends."

Luffy nudges Koby in a friendly manner before getting into the boat where Y/N, Nami and Zoro are working to unravel the remaining sail to begin their travel.

And the boat finally starts to sail, leaving the decks and island behind. Y/N looks back at Shells Town, what was her home for six months, half a year, is now a memory. Usually, leaving a town leaves her with a bittersweet feeling until she gets to the next one to do it all over again but now, knowing that the Map of the Grand Line is within reach, she has a new plan in mind.

Find her sister.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love, be safe.

Divider by @cafekitsune 3

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 23

Eminem x FemReader Fanfiction

Summary : Em gets a little jealous when Y/N catches the attention of a new beat maker he works with.

Tags : Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Smut (P in V, oral)

Y/N’s POV 

Telling Talia the truth about your relationship with Marshall definitely made your life easier. As it was to be expected, she told Jamal, but the two of them actually promised to keep it a secret from everyone else. You spent a lot of your time at Marshall’s but, on occasions, he would spend the night at your place too, and the four of you would hang out. You would spend as much time as possible with your boyfriend, even though the two of you were drowning in work, you with uni, him at the studio. However, you made it work. You spent every night together, except for one night a week. He usually had his family over for brunch on Sundays, so he would sleep alone at his place on Saturday night. The rest of the time, though, you had a little routine. Whether it was at his place or yours, both of you left stuff at each other’s house. By usual relationship standards, it was moving pretty fast, but it felt right for the two of you. After all, before even getting together, you were hanging out all the time so it wasn’t like you were just getting to know each other. 

At that point, you had been together for about two months and your relationship was still a secret. Everyone at the studio had really enjoyed meeting Josh at Talia’s birthday dinner and they seemed disappointed when you announced that the two had broken up, a couple of weeks afterwards. Obviously, they didn’t know the reason why and you were officially single. One of the drawbacks of no one knowing that you were spoken for is that they tried to get you to date and set you up with some people they knew. You tried to tell them that you weren’t really looking for a relationship, but they didn’t seem to care too much. It had sort of become a running joke in your household. 

Come on, Talia said during dinner, Royce’s cousin is pretty hot. If you’d been single, you should totally have gone to dinner with him ! 

Well I’m not single, you giggled. I feel bad for Royce and Porter though. It’s the third time they are trying to set me up with someone and I end up refusing all the time. I hope they don't take it personally ! 

Especially when they come up with such fine choices, she replied. The men they want to set you up with are total snacks !!! 

Yeah, they’re pretty attractive, you agreed. 

I’m right here, Marshall said with a chuckle. Do you remember me ? You know, your boyfriend ??? 

Feeling threatened, Em ? Jamal asked with a grin. 

Not at all, Marshall replied sternly. 

Not that we’d blame you, Em, Talia said playfully. I mean, that basketball was like half your age and twice your height ? Not to mention that he was buff… 

Remind me why we’re eating with them and not at my place, babe ? He asked you with a faux-exasperated face. 

Because we want to spend time with Y/N ! Talia shrieked. You’re basically stealing our bestie, Em. 

I’m not stealing her, he said as he rolled his eyes.

After dinner, the two of you were cuddling on your bed, watching a movie and talking about outfits for an appearance Marshall was supposed to make on some documentary. 

You can’t have me wear the Saint Laurent jacket all the time, he chuckled. People are going to think I only have one outfit. 

But you look so good in it, you said. Plus, it really shows off your muscles. Like, your broad shoulders and everything… 

Not enough, apparently, he muttered under his breath. 

What ? You asked. 

Nothing, he sighed before getting up. 

Suddenly, he seemed a little bothered. You paused the movie and looked at him. He was standing in front of your mirror, inspecting himself, looking displeased at what he saw. You got up and hugged him from behind. 

You look handsome, you whispered in his back. 

I don’t, he groaned. I look like one of the seven dwarves. 

You don’t, you giggled. What’s up with you ? Are you stressed out about this documentary ? 

Not really, he said. I mean, I couldn’t care less. 

What is it then ? You asked as you ran your hands on his stomach. 

Don’t do that, he grumbled before removing your hands. 

You looked at him, not really understanding. One minute you were cuddling and the next he didn’t seem to want you touching him. Plus, his snapping was sort of unusual. You sat on the bed and patted the mattress so that he would sit next to you. 

Want to talk about it ? You asked softly. 

Do you agree with Talia ? He asked. 

About what ? 

About those guys. he said. Do you think they’re better than me ? 

You stared at him in disbelief. To you, it seemed like a stupid question. Of course they weren’t better than him. 

You know she was just kidding, right ? You asked. 

Yeah but… Are they ? He asked. 

Of course not, you said. Why would you even worry about that ? 

I think it’s pretty obvious why, he sighed. Just… forget it alright ? 

He groaned again and got undressed. You thought he’d stay in his boxers, as he usually did when you went to bed, but he put on sweatpants he had left in your room a while ago and a tee-shirt, as well as a hoodie. He got under the covers while you stared at him.

What ? He asked in an annoyed tone. Why are you staring at me like that ? 

Nothing, you said timidly. Are you… cold ? I can adjust the room’s temperature if you want. 

I’m good, he said. Let’s go to bed, ok ? I have a big day tomorrow. 

Sure, you said in a sad voice. Good night. 

You quickly got into Marshall’s discarded tee-shirt, using it as a nightgown and got into bed. After turning the lights off, you got into your usual position, expecting him to cuddle with you as he always did, but he didn’t. It made you a little sad, although you knew it probably wasn’t a big deal. You were spending almost every night together and he was entitled to some distance if he wanted. This was your first night without cuddling and, without being overly dramatic, it felt like the end of an era. Even though the temperature of the room was perfectly fine, it felt cold. You grabbed a hoodie of his and put it on. When you got back in bed, he had turned and you could only see his back. 

I love you, you whispered shyly. 

Love you too, he mumbled. 

You didn’t sleep too well that night. You ended up tossing and turning a lot, wondering what was on his mind and what you could do to make it better and if you were the one to blame. You hated that kind of mood. Back when you were with Simon, he would often be grumpy over small stuff and give you the silent treatment. This had led to you second-guessing everything and overthinking every time someone’s mood changed. Your heart sank a little as you fell asleep. 

Fortunately, in the morning, Marshall’s mood seemed to have improved. You woke up to him kissing your forehead. 

Hey you, you whispered in a sleepy voice. 

Hey, you little hoodie thief, he chuckled. 

Slept well ? You asked. 

Yeah, I needed that, he said with a smile. Mind giving that hoodie back ? I have to get ready for the day. 

There’s another of your hoodies in the closet. 

I want this one, he chuckled. 

It’s going to reek of me, you pointed out. 

Maybe that’s what I want, he chuckled. I’m going to miss you today. 

I’m going to miss you too, you said with a pout. How about we both blow off work and sleep in ? 

I’d love to but I can’t, he chuckled. We’re having a session with a beatmaker I’m really excited to work with. Why don’t you come by after uni ? You’d really like his work. 

Sure, you said. 

He seemed genuinely excited and it made you happy. He often smiled, but his happiness radiated even more when it came to music, the thing he was born to do. You loved that he shared that with you. Of course, you cherished the moments when it was just the two of you, because it allowed for more intimacy, but you just loved watching him work. 

When you were done with your day, you joined everyone at the studio. They had just finished recording a track with Chris, the beatmaker Marshall had told you about. Apparently, he had reached out through Porter and everyone on the team seemed to really like his stuff. You greeted everyone and they played the track for you. You immediately understood what all the fuss was about : Chris was insanely talented. What he did was different, but also in line with the vibe Marshall had chosen for the album. You complimented him and he ended up playing some of his beats for you while the others took a break. You also talked for a bit. The two of you were roughly the same age, making you the youngest in the room, and you had a lot of common cultural references, seeing as his mother was french. You even talked about french rap music and joked around. He seemed to take a liking towards you but you didn’t pay much attention to it. You were spoken for anyway. Plus, he was clearly the type to flirt with anyone and everyone so you knew it was nothing special here. When they got back to work, you watched them and you couldn’t take your eyes off Marshall. However, the session ran long. Not that it bothered you too much. You always enjoyed hanging out at the studio, getting a preview of what they were working on. Plus, Chris kept on joking with you, either in English or French. Whenever they couldn’t understand, the others threw a side-eye at you, so you tried to stick to English. When the session came to an end, Chris came to see you. 

So, what did you think ? He asked. 

I love your beats, you said earnestly. You’re super talented and I just can’t believe that you started a few months ago. 

I have collabs with a bunch of other people, he said. They won’t be released for a few weeks, but maybe I can get your e-mail and send them to you ? 

I’d like that, you said with a smile. 

And then, maybe you can tell me what you think about them over dinner, a movie, that sort of stuff ? He added with a wink. 

You were a bit taken aback. You quickly glanced at the others in the room. Porter and Royce were excited, Jamal was staring sternly and Marshall’s eyed seemed to have turned a shade darker. He was pursing his lips. 

I’m sorry, you said, I’m not interested in dating right now. 

Can’t blame me for trying, he said with a smile before kissing your hand. 

He took a piece of paper and wrote his number on it before giving it to you. 

I really enjoyed meeting you, Y/N. Maybe you can give me a call when you change your mind about dating ? 

You blushed a little and mumbled before he left. His confidence was a bit unsettling. As soon as he was gone, Royce and Porter started groaning. 

What was wrong with this one ? Royce asked as he crossed his arms. 

Nothing, you said. I just said I’m not interested in dating. 

Will you guys just stop pushing people on her ? Jamal asked with a frown. I don’t need a thousand suitors coming to my house trying to woo her. 

Hey we didn’t plan for this one, Porter chuckled. But I think there’s something wrong with you, Y/N. This one was attractive, funny, french and more talented than any of us were at his age. 

Told you, I’m not looking for anything right now, you said. 

Well when that changes, you might want to give this one a call, though, Royce said. That’s the kind of guy you should be with. 

You shook your head and changed the conversation subject, going back to music. After everyone left, you got in Marshall’s car to go to his place. You were happy to finally be alone with him. Plus, it was a Friday night, meaning that the two would be able to spend the next morning lounging in bed. As soon as he got into the car, you grabbed his hand but he pushed it away angrily. 

Care to explain why you were flirting with that jackass right in front of me, Y/N ?! 

What ?! You asked defensively. 

Oh, please. “Oh my God, you’re so talented. I can’t believe you just started a few months ago”, he said, imitating your voice and vocalizing fake french words. You were practically riding his dick !!! 

I was complimenting him ! I also complimented you when we first met, if you recall, you pointed out sternly. 

He literally asked you out ! Marshall blurted. 

And I said no ! Why are you making a big deal out of it ? I like his beats, so what ? I like a lot of stuff. 

Yeah, you like him, he scoffed. 

I don’t even know him, you said. You like his work as much as I do, so what’s the big deal ? 

Yeah well I don’t think I’m going to use these beats anymore, he groaned. 

You looked at him and let out an involuntary laugh. 

He hit on me so you’re not going to work with him ? You asked in disbelief. 

Well I don’t want to work with anyone who wants to fuck my girlfriend, he said. It’s a matter of respect. 

Marshall… He doesn’t even know I’m your girlfriend, you said softly. Everyone thinks I’m single. 

Well maybe that’s the fucking problem ! He screamed. 

You stared at him in confusion. You took a deep breath and tried to keep your composure, even though you were startled by his outburst of anger. 

I’m lost here, you said. Walk me through it, because it doesn’t make much sense… 

You’re not here all the time. You don’t hear everyone commenting on how cute and sweet you are. On how they love you and anyone would be lucky to date you because you’re a goddamn catch. And how “That’s too bad for that dude Josh, he seemed great”. You don’t see everyone looking at you because you’re the brightest person in every room you enter. I do. 

He took a deep breath and avoided your gaze. 

And I know it makes sense to keep it on the low, right now, he added. We agreed to it and shit but then, I see you with that dude who is like half my age and talented as fuck and I’m like… It gets to me. That’s it. You heard Royce. That’s the kind of dude you should be with. 

You smiled shyly and took his hand that was balled in a fist. You kissed his knuckles and caressed his cheek as he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. 

So you’re… insecure ? You asked softly. 

If you want to call it that, yeah, he admitted with a groan. 

You really shouldn’t be, you said. You are the brightest person in every room, my love. Especially when you’re in the studio. You’re great and everyone reveres you.  Same goes for me. I only have eyes for you and every time I hang out here, I am amazed at how great and talented you are. And yes, I complimented that guy, because he is talented. But his talent and his beats, they make you shine even more because you are the one putting them to good use. You’re the one writing incredible lyrics and rapping them. No one does it like you. 

You think ? He asked. 

Of course, you said with a smile. And as for me practically riding his dick, don’t you dare say that to me again. Because yours is the only one I want to ride and I will prove it to you right now if I have to. 

He let out a laugh and kissed you. 

I’m sorry for losing my temper, baby, he said gently. And I’d love to take you on that offer but we’re in a public parking lot. 

Then let’s drive to your place and I’ll get on my knees to show you how much I appreciate you, you offered with a devilish grin. 

He laughed, kissed you again and wasted no time before starting the car. During the short drive to his place, you strategically placed your hand on his thigh, tracing circles on it, gently teasing him. When you got to his house, as soon as the front door was closed, you immediately jumped on him and removed his jacket and tee-shirt. Now that the two of you were alone, there was no reason why you should keep your hands off each other. You shoved him against the wall and immediately dropped to your knees. You undid his pants, letting his cock spring free and began licking the head. He closed his eyes and let you work your magic. You stroked him as you licked, taking as much of him in your mouth as you could. His fingers were in your hair, slightly pulling and encouraging you. 

I’m not going to last long, he warned. 

You shrugged to show it didn’t really matter to you. All you wanted was to pleasure him and for him to enjoy the moment. But he stopped you and made you get up. 

What are you… ? You began asking. 

I want to be inside of you, baby. 

He quickly undressed you and pinned you against the wall as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He immediately picked up a fast pace, wasting no time. He was thrusting into you harder than ever, kissing you sloppily. 

Say you’re mine, he whispered in your ear. 

Of course I am, you chuckled softly. 

Say it. I want to hear it. 

I’m… Yours, you said as he slammed into you. Yours only, Marshall. 

Right when you thought it wasn’t possible, he thrusted into you harder and made you come, taking the both of you to climax. You came at the same time and ended up panting on the floor. You were both sweaty, dripping messes, but as far as you were concerned, you were too stunned and exhausted to move. Your eyes were closed and you felt Marshall’s fingers stroking your cheeks. 

You’re a goddess, he said before kissing your forehead. 

You simply hummed in response. You were so tired you could fall asleep right then and there. 

Up, he said. Let’s shower. 

Bath ? You tried to negotiate. I don’t feel like standing up. 

Bath it is, princess, he said as he picked you up and carried you. 

I’m going to be so sore, you complained with a small laugh. 

Good, he said with a hint of pride. That’ll remind you of me. Of who you belong to. 

Territorial much ? You teased. 

He didn’t bother responding. He drew a bath and you settled in his arms and between his legs as he looked at you intensely before starting to wash your back. 

You don’t need to worry about anyone else, you said softly. There’s only you. You are the only one I want to be with. The only one I want to sleep with. 

I know, he said as he interlocked his fingers with yours. But… 

He stopped and sighed. 

What’s wrong, my love ? 

You don’t have to agree, and I know it’s early but… What if we went public ? Like, not “public” public, obviously, but… People we know ? He asked. 

You took a second before responding. You were a little stunned that he even suggested that. Plus, you didn’t feel ready, as you were scared that it might change the group dynamic. You didn’t want to suddenly become “Em’s girl”. 

I don’t know, you said. Do you think it would make you feel better ? 

I guess, he said. But you know, it’s not just a territorial thing. I mean, I want to claim you as mine so that the guys stop suggesting that you date and that these other dudes know that they should back off, don’t get me wrong but… Being with you feels natural. Pretending I’m not feels like lying. 

I’m not ready for people to know about us, you said. 

Are you ashamed of me ? He asked bluntly, his behavior suddenly changing. 

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh. The idea that you might be ashamed of him seemed preposterous to you. He was the hottest man you knew, the wet dream of millions of people around the world, insanely smart and talented. If anything, you thought he might be the one ashamed of being with someone as bland as you. 

Ashamed of you ? Why would I be ashamed of you, Marsh ? 

You tell me, he groaned. 

That’s stupid, you said as you shook your head. 

Now I’m stupid ? Great, he said before getting up and leaving you alone in the bathtub. 

Marshall, don’t…, you began to say, but he left and went to his bedroom. 

You groaned as you got up as well, your body still sore from your earlier exertions. You grabbed a robe and joined him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking pissed off. 

What’s with you, lately ? You asked. 

Nothing. 

Clearly, there’s something, you said. Yesterday, you got distant out of the blue, then you acted jealous before claiming me as yours and now you think I’m ashamed of you ? Where is all that coming from ? You asked calmly. 

I never thought a girl would be reluctant to tell anyone she’s dating me, he said. 

So, that’s ego, you pointed out. 

No, it’s not fucking ego ! If it was, I could easily get anyone else and it would be a done deal, he said as he rolled his eyes. 

Way to make me feel good and convince me to go public with you, you said sarcastically. 

He looked at you and sighed before taking your hand. 

I didn’t mean it like that, he said apologetically. All I’m saying is… I don’t understand why you want to hide our relationship, he said. I thought it was going great. 

It is going great, you said softly. 

So what is it ? He asked. Is it because I’m old ? Because of how I look ? What makes you so ashamed of me ? 

You looked at him in disbelief. He seemed sad and genuinely thought you were ashamed of him. It broke your heart. 

I don’t think fifty qualifies as old, Marshall, you said. 

Fifty-one, he bitterly corrected. 

You could be ten years younger or older, it wouldn’t matter to me, you know ? You said. And it's not how you look either. You look great. I mean… Have you seen yourself in a mirror ? 

I have, that’s the problem, he groaned. I’ve also seen the last two guys you dated and the men Royce and Porter keep on trying to set you up with. I know I’m not your type. 

Of course, you’re my type, you said softly. 

Come on, have you seen them ? They’re all at least 6”5, most of them are super buff… 

Yeah, well, I have dated tall men, you shrugged. But you’re muscular too. 

I’m not tall, he sighed. And I haven’t worked out too much lately. I think I’ve put on a few, actually…, he added as he touched his stomach. 

Marshall, I’m 4”9, you chuckled. You might not be as tall as other guys I have dated, but you’re still a freaking giant to me ! And I like your body the way it is. It’s freaking perfect. You might not hit the gym as much as you used to, but with all the time you spend fucking me in those weird positions, I think you work out just as much, if not more… 

True, he chuckled. But I don’t know, Talia said…

Talia was just teasing you, you said softly. You know how she is. She loves being mean to you. 

She’s a fucking bully, he said. 

But she’s like that because she likes you, you said. 

I know, it’s just… I’m a bit sensitive about that, I guess ? He shrugged. Like, I’m aware that you have a lot of options. And that some of them are literally half my age. 

Ok, you said calmly. I think we should address this because it seems like you’re obsessing over it, at this point. What’s up with your age ? You seem to make a big deal out of it. You have always pointed out our age difference, but it seems to bother you more, these days. 

Royce made a joke the other day, he admitted. Or a… comment. I don’t know. 

What did he say ? 

That if I wasn’t too old for you, maybe I would have had a chance to put you in my bed, he said. 

Well joke’s on him, you chuckled. Because we’re in bed together almost every night. And I love your age. 

You love my age ? He asked in disbelief. 

Well, I do love that you are experienced, you said with a wink. You’re the best sex I’ve ever had. Like, no one makes me come like you. And I had never even squirted before you. 

Really ? 

Yes, you giggled. And, the sex thing aside, I like the fact that you’re more mature than guys my age. So you don’t have to worry : I am not ashamed of you or anything. If we were the same age, we wouldn’t even be together. 

What do you mean ? 

Well, if I had met you twenty years ago, I would probably have thought you were an asshole, from what I gathered, you explained. And right now, I wouldn’t be as attractive. I’d be… older. You men age like fine wine but what you see of me right now is my prime. 

The asshole thing is true, he chuckled. But I’m not fucking DiCaprio, you know ? I’m not only into girls who are in their twenties. And for the record, you’d be beautiful at any age. I’ll still love you when you’re 51. I’ll be an old man by then and you will have put me in a retirement home, but I’ll still be crazy about you. 

You swooned at how sweet it was that he thought about loving you almost twenty-five years from now. It implied that things were serious between the two of you and that he thought your relationship might be going somewhere. You sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck before kissing him softly. 

I love you, he said. 

I love you too, you whispered. I’m so happy and proud to be your girlfriend. 

You are ? He mused. 

Of course, you giggled. 

So… Can I ask why you don’t want people to know about us ? He asked carefully. 

I just don’t want people to get the wrong idea, you admitted. 

What idea ? 

That I’m dating you because you’re this famous rapper. I like the Eminem, talented dude part for sure. But I’m not dating him. I’m dating Marshall Mathers. I’m with you because you are the most caring, funny, nice and good-looking man I know. I’m more interested in your comic book collection than your career anyway. And I don’t want people to see me as just your girlfriend. I like being their friend too, you know ? 

I see, he said. That makes sense, actually. 

He kissed your cheek and played with your hair. 

Sorry for being a dick, he apologized. 

It’s fine, you said. There’s something else, too… 

Mmmh ? 

People knowing about us would include your family, right ? You asked. 

Well… yeah, he said. I guess I hadn’t really thought about that. But yeah, I guess. 

Now you might be the one ashamed of me, you giggled. 

Not at all, he said reassuringly. You’re right, it might be too early for that. But I am in love with you and I’m serious about us. So, at some point, I’d like to tell them about you. 

Aren’t you scared of what they will think ? You asked nervously. 

Not really, he said. They will love you. You have no idea how long they have been pestering me about dating, so you’re probably going to come across as some sort of savior. 

They won’t think it’s weird ? You asked. 

I don’t think so, he said. I haven’t really thought about that, I guess. I never thought I’d want to introduce anyone to my family anyway, you know ? But I know that they’re going to like you. You already get along with Hailie and I know that Lainey and Stevie will love you. But we’ll see how it goes when you meet them as my friend anyway.

You really want us to meet ? You asked in shock, suddenly nervous. 

Chill, he chuckled. It’s not going to be any sort of proper introduction or anything like that. But they usually come and watch football games with me, either here or at the stadium. There’s always a bunch of friends too. So I might invite you, Talia and Jamal. What do you think ? 

As long as I don’t have to wear stupid Lions apparel, you chuckled. 

You don’t get to disrespect my team under my roof, he said with a faux frown. 

It’s not the team, it’s the outfit, you corrected with a smile. I don’t even understand the rules anyway. 

Now I’m ashamed of you, he joked. 

You chuckled and kissed him. 

Be ashamed of me all you want, but I’m starting to get cold and I want my bath, you said as you got up. Care to join ? 

Sure, he replied with a smile. I’ll explain the rules to you, once again. 

No, you begged - fully knowing that he could be unstoppable when it came to talking about football. 

Come on, it’s easy, he began. 

I didn’t ask for it, you said sheepishly. 

But you just said you don’t know the rules of football, he said. 

Doesn’t mean I care, you giggled. I swear, if you start talking about football, I will rap some Benzino. 

Do that under my roof and you’re dead, woman, he said before tickling you. 

You tried to push him away but he was too strong for you. He pushed you onto the bed and buried his face in your neck, gently nipping at the sweet spot he knew you had. You couldn’t control your moans as he started sucking on it and untying your robe, exploring your body with his hands. You were sore but clearly ready for another round. After some sweet love making, you got back to the bathroom to draw another bath - the water being too cold now and saw your reflection in the mirror. You let out a gasp. Your neck was full of hickies. Marshall arrived behind you with a shit-eating grin. 

I’m going to kill you, you sighed. 

What ? Just because we’re not going public doesn’t mean I’m letting people think you’re single, he chuckled. 

They're going to think I’m dating a freak, you commented as you inspected the hickies and figured out they’d be hard to hide. 

I should have done that earlier, he said with a smile. Now maybe Royce and Porter will stop. 

If I have to walk around like this, I’m going to start leaving hickies too, you threatened. 

Don’t you dare, he chuckled. My kids are going to freak out if they see that. 

You owe me, then, you said sternly. 

Anything you want, princess, he said lovingly.

[kazesauce]

TBOC Hopes and Wild Speculation

*CONTAINS REFERENCES TO 201 AND FILMING SPOILERS*

I'm so grateful to see everyone so excited after the Tribeca premiere, including seeing some old names arise from their fandom slumber. Welcome back!

Melissa said that they took some core issues that were unresolved from the main series and built on those. These are core issues I hope they address so Carol can heal.

Sophia - Carol needs to move out of the denial phase of grief and properly mourn her daughter. There are strong indications in 201 that this will be addressed.

The Banishment - I firmly believe that Rick telling Carol no one would want her around if they knew who she really was is what's underpinning her wanting to run away constantly. Carol doesn't know that Daryl knows about Karen and David and he defended her when Rick exiled her. I hope that will be addressed.

Lizzie and Mika - This was an extremely traumatic experience for Carol, and she kept her promise to Tyreese never to talk about it. I hope something happens to help her process that grief and affirm that she made the right decision in that situation, even though it was gut wrenching.

Find Me Fight - I hope they talk about that fight and everything that was fueling it, including Daryl's savior complex that's caused him so much trouble. It's the reason he ended up in France and also why he missed the boat home. (Daryl would have died in Newfoundland and Carol never would have found him, so narratively it's a good thing he stayed, but that's not the point I'm trying to make.)

Wild Speculation/Hopes

Sylvie and Emile's puppy love will stir something in Caryl.

Losang will be revealed to be as evil as Genet.

Codron will adopt Laurent at the end of the season. (Codron and Laurent were present when they filmed Daryl and Carol going down the tunnel to Spain. I guess this would mean Isabelle is dead or gravely injured, but I just want my boy Codron to get a happy ending.)

Please reblog or comment with your own hopes and wild speculations! No judgment, have fun!

[shana-silver-fox]

Wishes are not Hopes

Big giant rambling dump about The Book of Carol 2.02

Laurent's opening line sets the difference between Carol and Isabelle.

Izzy represents wishes (childish, unrealistic, immediate gratification )

Carol is hope. (maturity, realistic, planned)

some online descriptions on the difference

HOPE to want things to happen that are possible. “I HOPE it doesn’t rain tomorrow.”

We use the verb WISH when we want things that to happen that are unlikely or impossible. "I wish it never rained again"

Put simply, this is the difference between hope and wish:

The verb wish usually describes the present or the past.

The verb hope usually describes a possible future situation.

Wishes are not hopes. Isabelle will never be Carol.

Laurent then immediately tells Losang that he knows Daryl is missing Carol and "the others". I do love how Laurent now knows that Carol is the most important person in Daryl's life and grouped everyone else as 'others". We can infer that through off screen conversations Laurent made this conclusion.

Daryl seems to have regressed to early seasons Daryl. Rick's henchman, now Losang's. Could play a part in his old abandoment issues coming back. We even have Losang saying "we stil have to deal with Daryl when he comes back" Call back to Daryl's intro episode season 1 of TWD

I think the baseball game was a wink at Daryl getting to 1st base, and of course no further lol Even Norman used that analogy in the interview after this episode.

Izzy asking "what does us mean" I think was meaningful for Daryl. I think he's been wanting definition for him and Carol for the longest time and is afraid to ask. Not having that definition has him feeling extra lost figuratively when he's lost literally. Not enough is said about that pause Daryl took before he left on the bike, like he wanted to say more to Carol before he left. I'm convinced he wanted it locked down before he went.

Daryl asks for her and Laurent to go with him and she says no. Remember, he asked Carol to go with him and she said no too. I think when Izzy reconsiders and says she will go with him, his reaction is knee jerk almost like Daryl was trying to recreate the goodbye he wanted with Carol. He wanted her to say yes, and seal that I Love You with a kiss.

Several times in dialogue we are told "people gotta believe in something" and "what we want is to be certain" Daryl was missing that certainty with Carol. (Until she shows up for him of course) I think he really had convinced himself no one would look. Remember Rick left him to rot with Negan. He had to save himself. Abandonment monster still lives in his brain.

We also got confirmation that Daryl and Izzy had separate rooms so there was no pre hanky panky. That awkward kiss was literally it.

There were several signs *no pun?, or writing on the wall *cough I think were direct FcU to ABC shippers.

l mean, Blondie standing over younger blondie with a bullet hole to the head?

Also minutes later, Izzy executes Emile with a bullet to the head. Emile is the masculine of Emily 👀 jfyi Lots of coincidences in a short scene.

Emile broke my heart. I'm not quite sure what to make of Isabelle being the death of the young lovers? Thoughts?

This has gone on super long and I didn't even cover Carol's half of the story, so I think I'll make a separate post.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

These Lips Speak Lies

Aramis x Reader (The Musketeers)

Words: 7048

Summary: A prequel to Honor and Espionage, Aramis tells the story of how he and the reader met, almost killed each other, and fell in love. 

Notes: Wow, okay I know this is crazy long but I just couldn’t help myself. I loved the Spy Reader and Aramis dynamic so much that I just had to continue. What better way to tell the story than to start at the beginning? If you guys love this saga as much as I do, be sure to let me know!

Find more Musketeers: HERE

-

The group gathered around the small fireplace, at home in the space they’d all spent many evenings since the incidents at Ambassador Laurent’s estate. With the country escape having bored you both, you and Aramis returned to Paris before Treville’s orders and hosted many dinners. The others concocted exciting tales to keep you amused and to distract you from your painful idleness. 

It was a similar affair, though in a few days, you’d be cleared to return to your work. Due to his pleading and lack of injury, Aramis had been allowed to go on a few missions, given that he still kept an eye on your recovery. 

You stood to pour another round of wine into everyone’s glasses, but Aramis tugged you back down, kissing your cheek. 

“Allow me, darling,” he said. He picked up the bottle and refilled your glass. 

“I am capable of lifting a simple bottle, Aramis,” you scoffed. “You said so yourself, my arm is entirely healed.”

“That does not mean I cannot still be a dutiful husband, hm?” He raised a brow and kissed you again, this time meeting your soft lips with his. 

“If all it took was me getting shot for you to act like this, I would have tried it ages ago,” you teased.

He scowled, gave your lips another quick peck, and stood. Aramis tended to his companion’s cups before returning to his place beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. 

For a while, the five of you drank together, merrily telling stories of past adventures and other close calls. The fire was dying down by the time D’Artagnan leaned over to you.

“I have to know,” he said with a smirk, “how did the two of you meet?”

Porthos’ brow furrowed and he leaned back in his chair. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the story myself.”

“Nor I,” Athos said, pouring himself another glass. 

“I could have sworn we told the tale at our wedding.” You thought back to that day, but, quite honestly, you only remembered that night. The images in your mind made you blush and you snuggled a little closer to your husband. 

“They were both probably too drunk to remember,” Aramis snickered. 

“Well I haven’t heard it at all,” D’Artagnan said, turning to you with a pout. “Was it on an assignment?”

You blew out a breath. “Yes and no.”

“Did you work together?”

This time, your husband answered. “Yes and no.” 

“Cut to it, will ya?” Porthos bellowed. “We want to hear the story.” 

“Alright, alright,” you laughed. You turned, smirking at the man beside you. “Aramis, darling, would you like to do the honors? I’ll correct you if you get anything wrong, of course.”

He brought your lips to his one more time, earning a semi-annoyed huff from Porthos. 

“My pleasure.” He stood, pacing in front of the fire. “Now, I’m sure you all remember the mysterious stranglings that plagued the city five years ago?” 

The three members of the audience nodded. 

Aramis’ smile grew. “This is the story of how we solved the case-”

“Nearly died on several occasions,” you interjected with a giggle. 

He reached for your hand and kissed it. “And fell in love.”

-

By morning, they were dead. Nobody knew how it was possible, but there was no denying it. Paris was being hunted. Specifically, the women of Paris. Two noblewomen had turned up, both strangled and found in the streets, blocks away from their homes. 

What worried Aramis was the bodies before them. Women from the lower class had been dying for weeks now. And worse, nothing was being done. It made his blood boil knowing a killer was stalking the streets and he was guarding the king’s dinners. 

But when he brought the murders up to Treville, the captain told him that he already had a man on the job, though Aramis had heard nothing of such an assignment from any of the other musketeers. He told Aramis to let it be as if it were little more than a pest problem being handled. Aramis didn’t understand it. How could the captain be content forgoing the proper resources to bring these women’s killer to justice? 

Aramis, certainly, was not. 

So, despite Treville’s explicit instructions, Aramis decided to conduct his own investigation into the murders. And, with his two usual companions away on a mission of their own, he would have to solve this problem alone. 

Luckily, he had plenty of connections with the women of the nobility. And, with the growing terror amongst them, they were more than willing to cooperate.

“At first,” Lady Brizman whispered, though there was no one else in the courtyard to hear them, “we thought, maybe, Juliet- Lady de Fontane- was, well…” she trailed off, lowering her voice even more as if to conceal a scandal, “seeing someone. We thought maybe things went badly and her lover killed her.” 

Aramis nodded. “But then Madame Wilton was killed in the same manner.”

“Exactly,” she exclaimed. “Now I have my servants triple-check anyone who comes to the house.” She smiled, leaning against the garden gate. “Except for you, of course.” Her hand trailed up his arm. 

“Well, if you hear anything more, or feel at all frightened and in need of assistance,” he flashed her a charming smile and tipped his hat. “I’m at your service, madame.”

He waited until he was out of sight to hit his hand against the wall with a frustrated growl. It was the same thing he’d heard from the last four women. Suspected affairs turned serial killer. But, according to every woman he’d spoken to, the victims’ whereabouts on the days they were killed provided very little opportunity for them to have encountered the killer.

There had to be some kind of connection, a place where they met, or a person they knew. But where- or who- could connect women of different classes? 

Aramis turned on his heel and stopped suddenly. 

“Of course,” he muttered to himself. He gazed across the street at the seamstress’s shop before him. 

All of the women killed before worked as either suppliers, delivery girls, or seamstresses themselves. And surely Lady de Fontane and Madame Wilton frequented such establishments. The killer must have used these shops as hunting grounds, watching from the side until he found his perfect victim. Perhaps he even stood where Aramis stood. The thought made the musketeer shudder. 

Aramis scoped out the area. Another shop down the road gave him a pretty good idea that this must be where the women were being taken from. He determined that he would come back in the evening- when the women were taken- and see if he could catch the beast. 

-

He’d sat there for hours, hidden from the common passersby, keeping an eye on every person who walked down the street. The sun had set, leaving the road in darkness, but the windows of the shop still held a light. Someone was working late. He just hoped it was only the dressmakers. 

Several figures passed by him, none appearing the most trustworthy, but all vacating the street too swiftly to be scoping out the shop for their next victim. 

All but one. 

A figure in a dark, scarlet cloak crossed the street, tucking themselves into the darkness of the alley beside the shop. Aramis eyed the villain darkly and navigated the alleys and corners in order to catch them by surprise. As he crept toward them, dagger drawn at his side, he noticed their stance. Like a cat waiting to pounce on its prey. 

He lunged first, grabbing their arm and pinning them to the wall, arm stretched across their chest. 

Her chest, he observed as the scarlet cloak fell open slightly. He tried not to let it distract him. A woman was just as capable of murder, as his years had taught him. 

“It’s dangerous here at night, mademoiselle,” he hissed. “I might ask what you’re doing, skulking about the shadows.”

“I might ask you the same thing.” You aimed your pistol at his abdomen and cocked it, raising a brow with the click. You stared defiantly in his dark eyes. He was handsome, you observed, but that could very well be used to lure women into his trap. This could be the very killer you’d spent weeks searching for. 

But those eyes…

“I am a King’s Musketeer, patrolling the streets for the safety of those such as yourself,” he said, failing to keep the suspicious bite from his tone. 

You took a moment to look over him, indeed finding the crest on his shoulder, and sighed.

“Then we have much to discuss, monsieur,” you huffed, lowering your weapon and hooking it back to the belt around your waist. 

Aramis did not let his guard down, instead standing straighter, poised for a possible attack. Who knew what a killer like this could be capable of… even if she did have the loveliest voice. 

You rolled your eyes. “I do not have time for this, come with me.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him to a door that led to the upper quarters of the shop itself. 

In his surprise, Aramis didn’t fight you, following blindly up the stairs to a small room with a cot, a candle, and a small desk scattered with piles of notes and maps. He jerked his arm away from your grip, frustration melding with his misunderstanding. 

You ignored him and walked over to the papers and grabbed something from atop them. 

“Would you explain to me what’s going on?” He demanded. 

“What is going on is that you have absolutely no idea what you are doing,” you snapped, whirling around to face him with the ring you kept on your desk. Upon it, was the crest of the Musketeers. You held it before him and watched his face contort from irritation to utter confusion. 

“You’re a…” He gazed upon your face again, as if trying to read something there.

“It appears we work for the same regiment, monsieur,” you said coolly. “Captain Treville believed that I would have a better chance of catching the killer because I am better able to blend into this area of town, whereas a soldier such as yourself would be immediately spotted, as tonight has clearly displayed.” 

“I was doing fine before I made the mistake of following you into that alley- which I may add, you looked just as suspicious as I may or may not have,” he argued. “The fact that I am here shows that I am just as capable of following this case as you are, if not more so given that I have the authority of a musketeer.” He stepped toward you. “Tell me, what exactly does Treville have you for?”

“I’m afraid that is privileged information,” you glared. “Tell me, were you or were you not told to leave this case alone?” Now, you stepped towards him. “Because I know for a fact that Captain Treville wanted me alone searching for the killer in fear of scaring them into hiding.” 

Aramis looked away. 

You scoffed. “Exactly what I thought. Another ‘hero’ dying to make a name for himself.” Turning back to your notes, you dismissed him with a wave of your hand. “You can run back to the garrison. I have women to protect.” 

Aramis remained, though whether it was shock or stubbornness that prevented his feet from moving, he wasn’t entirely sure. Instead, he moved to look over your shoulder. 

“These are your observations then?” He asked. 

You didn’t bother turning to look at him. “I’ve been staying in this apartment for the past three weeks. It has given me the opportunity to study the pattern of workers and regular buyers, but it has yet to yield any clue as to who is targeting them.” You couldn’t help the irritated sigh that fell from your lips. “I have followed up on every man that has been to the shop since I’ve been here and all of them have been checked out. The killer must be keeping to the shadows, hunting like a wolf at night.” 

“What makes you so sure the killer is a man?” 

You scoffed. “Because I saw the bodies. The bruises around the neck were far too large for them to have been strangled by a woman.” Setting your pages down again, you faced him with your arms crossed impatiently. “Now if you don’t mind, monsieur…?”

He removed his hat. “Aramis. My name is Aramis.” He made no motion to leave. In fact, he stood his ground firmly, which only made you more annoyed. “And how exactly do you plan to catch this man, madame…?” He mimicked your questioning tone. 

“Y/N.” You saw no point in giving him a false name, though you were half tempted to leave him guessing. “And I shall catch him in the act.”

Aramis chuckled, running his fingers over his facial hair. “And how do you plan to do that?”

You raised a brow. 

His smarminess fell. “You can’t be serious.”

“I assure you, Monsieur Aramis, that I am perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“You’re going to give yourself as bait?” 

“I’m going to lure him out of the shadows by giving him a target that isn’t defenseless.” You held up your pistol. “If he agrees to come in quietly, then he’ll be hanged in the morning. If not… well, I’ll have the pleasure of making Paris a safer place tonight.” 

Your fellow musketeer crossed his arms. 

“I’m coming with you.”

“You most certainly are not.” 

“I only wish to assist you in catching the killer,” he said.

“You think because I’m a woman I cannot do it on my own?” You challenged. 

“I’ve learned never to underestimate a woman, darling.” He leaned in. “I just don’t trust you.”

The sound of your hand against his cheek rang through the small room. 

Aramis put a hand to his face, already reddening where you’d hit, but his smug smile never faltered. 

“Do you let your emotions get in the way of every mission or am I special?” 

You raised your hand again, but this time he caught it, his face darkening.

“It was only cute the first time.” 

You jerked your arm out of his grip, eyes defiant and tone threatening.

“If you get in my way for so much as a second-”

“I assure you, we want the same thing,” Aramis said. “Think of me as your backup plan, if being bait doesn’t go quite the way you expect.”

“I don’t need backup plans,” you said. “I’m always right the first time. It’s why Treville sends me instead of any of you.” 

You slipped by him, tucking your pistol into the belt beneath your cloak as you walked to the stairs. You stopped at the exit and sighed, turning back to face the other musketeer. 

“Well?” You gave him a smirk. “Are you coming or not, Monsieur Aramis?”

He motioned with his arm, returning your smug expression. “After you, Madam Y/N.” 

“It’s mademoiselle,” you corrected.

“So you haven’t found a man who can put up with your arrogance, how surprising.”

You rolled your eyes and went back downstairs. 

-

Aramis returned to his spot in the alleyway across the street from the shop, keeping a close eye on the swift-moving cloaked figure across from him. Heat still lingered in his skin, his frustration showing in the red of his cheeks. He’d known you for a few short minutes and already, you’d burrowed your way into his mind. He convinced himself it was anger and nothing more, but the familiar ache in his chest suggested otherwise. 

“A woman spying for Treville,” he muttered. “I’ve never heard anything so… brilliant.” He could tell, just from the confidence in your gaze and the way you pointed that pistol at him that you were just as capable as any musketeer in his regiment. And a woman could go far more unnoticed than any man in uniform. 

As much as he hated to admit it, his anger was overridden by his admiration. 

You kept an eye on his shadowed figure, your irritation mixing with intrigue. 

Why should a musketeer care so much about what was happening to these women? But care he did. You could see it in his eyes. 

Those eyes. 

“Focus, Y/N,” you hissed at yourself. “The killer must be here somewhere.”

A figure stepped out of the shadows. “Yes, well, unfortunately, you won’t be around to catch him.” 

Hands grappled you from behind. 

“Let go of me!” Your cry carried across the street. 

Aramis leapt into action swiftly, but not as quick as the man waiting behind him. The blow to the back of his head prevented any plans of rescue. 

You fought against your captors even as the fabric covered your eyes. 

“Feisty one, isn’t she?” A voice sneered. 

“Maybe we should have left her for Claude.”

“Let’s get her in the cart.” 

“I will ensure you all hang!” You exclaimed, trying not to choke on the bag over your head. 

They dragged you to what must have been a cart that they promptly threw you into the back of, along with something else. 

Or someone. 

“Great,” you sighed. 

Treville was not going to be happy. 

-

“Aramis, wake up.” You shook the man’s shoulder with bound hands, examining the wound on his head. It had stopped bleeding at least. “Great help you are. Wake up.” 

Aramis groaned, eyes fluttering open and closed. 

“We have a problem,” you said, sitting back against the wall of the stables you were taken to. 

He tried to sit up, holding his head where dried blood now stained. 

You put a hand on his back to steady him. 

“Where are we?” He asked. 

“From the length of the ride, I would say it’s an estate at the edge of the city.” They had been careful to keep you from seeing anything on the way here and they’d taken the cart directly to the make-shift prison they were keeping you in. 

“Did you see them?”

You shook your head. “Bastards put a bag over me. Felt their disgusting hands though.”

Aramis tensed, jaw clenched as his eyes looked you over for injuries. “They didn’t hurt you did they?”

“No. No, I’m alright.” You couldn’t help but be touched by his clear concern. “Just angry at myself for letting them catch me to begin with.” 

“We were expecting a single madman, not an ambush. You couldn't have known.” 

“That’s the thing.” You pushed yourself to your feet, pacing around the small space while he leaned himself up in the corner, standing shakily. “The murders were carried about by a single person. Of that I’m certain. What could someone possibly gain by stopping us from catching him?” 

“They told me you were a clever one.” 

Both of you jumped at the voice. You moved instinctively in front of your injured companion. 

A woman stepped into the moonlight that streamed through the stable windows. You could just see her through the barred opening in the door. She wore a dark dress and gloves and a stern frown. She couldn’t have been much older than you. 

“All of this could have been a forgotten tragedy, but the musketeers had to stick their noses into it, didn’t they?” She adjusted her gloves. 

“You aren’t the killer,” you said. “Your hands have hardly seen the sunlight, let alone crushed the life out of another woman’s throat.” The venom in your voice was clear, not your usual feigned charm. This was not a situation that required being personable. 

“I can’t imagine what it’s like.” She wrinkled her nose. “A woman shouldn’t know such things. The details of a death.” 

“If you let us go, I’d be happy to give you a demonstration,” you hissed. 

She laughed. “Such spirit for a musketeer’s slut.” 

You gritted your teeth. 

Aramis put a hand on your shoulder. He shook his head, giving you a warning glance. 

“Who are you?” He asked. “Why are we here?” 

“Aramis, I’m offended you don’t remember me.” She smirked. “You are very familiar with a dear friend of mine, Lady Brizman.” 

His mind reeled, still pounding from being hit. Then, he placed why she looked familiar. 

“Lady Augustin.” 

“I was never pretty enough for you to chase, hm?” 

“It had far more to do with your husband than your looks, I can assure you.” 

Between her jealous words and the way she grimaced at the mention of her husband, the pieces came together. 

You stared her down, smiling as you understood. “It’s him, isn’t it? Your husband is the one killing those women.” 

“Lord Augustin is sick,” she snapped. She took a deep breath. “He just needs time. I’m going to help him.” 

“Then you’re just as despicable as he is,” you spat. “Maybe worse.”

“Y/N,” Aramis warned, seeing the terrible look in the woman’s eyes. 

Lady Augustin stepped closer to the locked door, her face inches from the barred opening. “Oh, he’ll have fun with you,” she said.

You reached your arm out of the opening, but she backed away laughing. 

“I’ll send my men down to fetch you when my husband returns home.” Her voice echoed cruelly down the corridor of the stables. “Think of it this way, dear Musketeer- with you to keep him occupied, how many women will your sacrifice be worth?”

“You won’t get away with this!” You called after her, clawing the outside of the door like a trapped animal. “You will face justice! You and your vile husband!”

You brought your arm in to pound both of your fists against the wood, trying to force the door open. You hit it again and again, splinters digging into the flesh of your hands. 

“Y/N,” Aramis said again, this time softer. 

“We have to get out. You heard her. I won’t let him have me.”

“Y/N-”

“They’ll kill you too,” you said, your panic clouding your judgment. “They’ll kill you and he’ll strangle me like all of those women and then he will never stop. We have to get out.” You felt tears hot on your cheeks more than you felt the blood now dripping from the scrapes on your hands. 

“Y/N, stop.” Aramis grabbed you around the middle, pulling you away from the door. 

“No!” You cried. “We have to stop them. We have to-” You choked on a frightened sob. 

You couldn't remember the last time you were this scared. 

Aramis wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him so you couldn’t go back to the door. 

“Let me go,” you demanded.

“Not until I know you aren’t going to tear your hands apart on a door that isn’t going to open,” he said softly, tucking you against his chest. “We’ll get out. We’ll find a way. I promise.” 

You took a couple of deep breaths, laying your forehead against his chest to calm yourself down. You pushed away, hastily wiping away your tears. 

“You’re right. Now isn’t the time to let them get to us.” You squared your shoulders and tensed your jaw, turning your face away so he couldn’t see your embarrassment at losing control. 

“Wait.” Aramis put a hand on your shoulder, turning you so you had to look at him. “It’s okay to be afraid.”

“Not in my position, it’s not.” 

Pushing away from him, you moved to the other side of your straw-covered cell. While your legs ached to move, you knew you needed to conserve your energy for when they returned. 

When Lord Augustin used you to appease his sick appetites. 

“I’m going to just…” Aramis leaned against the wall, sliding down to ease the horrible pounding in his injured head. 

He forced himself to stay awake, trying to think of a plan of escape. Treville would realize the two of you were gone. Perhaps he would send Porthos or one of the others to search. 

Aramis grimaced. 

That would take too long. By the time anyone found the two of you, Lord Augustin would have put a bullet in Aramis’s skull, and… he didn’t want to think what would happen to you. 

You’d have to work together to find a way out, to tell Treville and the King that the killer was a nobleman and you’d have to find decent evidence in order to convince the court that a member of ‘higher society’ was capable of such crimes, otherwise, they could simply frame some poor stable boy. 

You’d seen it happen before. 

“I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you said softly. 

Aramis laid his head back, shrugging. “It was my own fault. Not my mission, remember?” He gave you a smirk. 

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “That’s right. You should have minded your own businesses and then you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Ah, but then you’d miss my company.” 

You snorted. 

He closed his eyes. 

And you both waited. 

-

They came for him first. 

Men in dark clothes- hired thugs, most likely- unlocked the stable cell door and slid it open. 

You leapt to your feet, eyes on the pistols in their hands. 

“Stay away,” you spat. 

One of them sneered, taking a step toward you with his weapon aimed at your stomach. He ran a hand down your cheek. 

“Oh, we’re not here for you, beautiful.” He pressed his gun against your soft skin. “Too bad though. I would have loved to have a chance to soften you up for the madman.”

“Leave her alone,” Aramis said, getting to his feet. 

One of the other men kicked him back down, landing a blow to his leg and then his stomach once he was back on the ground. 

Aramis groaned. 

“Stop it,” you cried, jumping forward to try and intervene. 

The blonde man with you caught you around the waist, holding you there while the other two continued to beat on the poor musketeer until blood dripped from his mouth and his breathing turned ragged. 

The whimper fell from your lips before you really even understood why. “Aramis.” It almost felt like a prayer. 

Whatever feeling had overtaken you in that moment gave you enough strength to break away from your captor, snatching his weapon in the process. You forced him back with a powerful shove. 

“What in the-” He started, but the loud shot from his own weapon- and the bullet through his chest- silenced him. 

Aramis took the moment of shock on his comrade's faces to cease his painful performance and swing his legs into theirs, knocking them both off their feet before they could turn their attentions and their weapons to you. 

“Someone will have heard that,” he said. 

“Then we better act quickly.” You grabbed the sword off the belt of the man you shot.

Aramis took both from the men on the ground. 

You exchanged a look and ran out of the cell, taking the first turn you found and cutting down two more guards as you went.

“You know,” Aramis said, catching his breath, “we make a decent pair, you and I.”

You snorted. “They hit you too hard, soldier.”

He chuckled and continued down the corridor, leading the two of you into some kind of cellar, but not one for wine.

“My God,” you gasped, hand lifting to your lips in shock.

Before you laid the remains of at least half a dozen more women. The smell alone made your stomach turn.

“Monster,” Aramis muttered, eyes widening with every bloody sight. 

The strangled women were just the beginning. Butchery was his real interest. 

You swallowed back bile. “We need to get to Treville.”

Aramis simply nodded. Something inside of him snapped. He clenched his fists. 

You noticed the tension in his back. 

“We need to go.” When he didn’t move, you took his hand. “We’ll send someone to give them a proper burial,” you said. “But we can’t do that if we’re dead, Aramis.” 

He nodded again. Aramis let you lead him out of that horrible room. 

With his hand in yours, you felt as though the darkness in this house couldn’t reach you. This man who had infuriated you just hours earlier now filled you with the courage you needed to keep walking after seeing those poor women lying there. 

You ducked into a smaller corridor to let a group of servants go by and to let Aramis rest. You could tell that his head injury still troubled him and you couldn’t have him fainting on you in the middle of a fight. 

“We have our evidence now,” he said darkly. He shifted, his body brushing against yours with every move, every breath. 

Having him pressed so close to you, you held your breath, afraid that if his skin brushed yours, you’d break completely.

“That could have been me,” you whispered, some of your panic from before seeping into your tone. 

Aramis lifted a hand to your cheek. “We’re going to stop him.” 

Perhaps it was the intensity of the moment or the terror of facing such a violent death that drew you to him. Or maybe it was just his eyes. 

Aramis leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. 

And you let him. 

You couldn’t remember you’d felt a man’s lips when you weren’t trying to draw information from them. 

“We could find the exit,” he suggested. “Find Treville and bring him here to arrest the lord and lady.”

You looked at each other, knowing both of your answers without having to say anything. 

The two of you took off down the hallway to arrest the Augustins yourselves.

- 

The manor house felt more like a small castle the more you made your way down twisting corridors and endless stairs. With every careful step, Aramis was right behind you, stolen guns at the ready in case you ran into the villains. 

Having always worked alone, you expected to feel more uncomfortable with him there. It was far more difficult to sneak two people around, but his presence provided more assistance than irritation. The idea of being in this place alone made your skin crawl. 

“You there!” Someone shouted. 

It was definitely harder to sneak two people around. 

“It’s that musketeer!” Another guard shouted. “Get him!”

“You seem to be quite popular,” you muttered, whittling around and firing a shot into the chest of one of the incoming thugs. 

“What can I say?” Aramis shot another. “I have that effect.” 

You laughed, surprised by the light sound that came from you. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly laughed. Either his arrogance was growing on you or you were more rattled than you thought. Perhaps a mix of both. 

The two of you stood back to back, fighting off more guards as they ran towards you from both sides of the hall. 

“He has more guards than the king,” you exasperated. 

“But not better ones.” He expertly disarmed his opponent, using the man’s sword to run him through. 

“We’ll have to hurry. Lord and Lady Augustine will try to escape.” You took down another, clearing a path for the two of you to reach the upper chambers of the house. Grabbing Aramis by the arm you pulled him into a room with a heavy wooden door. 

“We won’t be able to hold them off for long,” he said, pushing a heavy-looking table in front of the entrance. 

You stared out in front of you. “We won’t have to.” 

Aramis whipped around, finding the two owners of the house standing before you in front of a large dining room table. 

“How nice of you to join us,” Lord Augustine said. He pulled out a chair. “I’ve heard so much about you mademoiselle.” His cold eyes shifted to the man beside you. “And you, musketeer.”

Aramis held out his sword. “Don’t come any closer.” 

“You’re in my house. I don’t think it’s polite to give me any orders.” Augustine stepped towards you. “Such a fine neck…”

You shuddered. 

Aramis put his arm in front of you. “I’m arresting you in the name of the king for the murder of at least a dozen French women.” 

“We won’t be going anywhere,” Lady Augustine said. She pointed a pistol at your head over his shoulder. “Now drop your sword, musketeer, or I’ll be forced to cut this evening short. 

Aramis lowered his voice. “I need you to reach into my trousers.”

“What?”

“There is a pistol tucked in my waistband that they failed to take away.”

“Why didn’t you use it before?” You hissed.

Lord and Lady Augustine exchanged confused and irritated looks. 

“I’ve been saving it for something like this.” Honestly, in the chaos of the evening, he’d half forgotten it was there. He shifted closer to you to make it easier. “Just grab it.” 

“You are a strange man,” you muttered. Keeping an eye on the woman aiming a weapon at you, your hand traveled across and down Aramis’ back.

He did his best not to shiver at your touch, liking it far too much given the situation. 

“Make one more move and I’ll blow your head off,” Lady Augustine threatened. 

“Now, now, there’s no need for that.” The Lord gave you a wide smile. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of agreement. I’d hate for someone so fine to go to waste.”

“I’m going to enjoy this,” you growled. 

Aramis’ shoulders tensed. “Do you have it?”

In answer, you raised the hidden weapon and fired it under his arm. The bullet struck Lady Augustine in the chest, propelling her backward and making her pistol clatter to the table. 

Lord Augustine launched himself at Aramis, swinging a knife wildly, his cool exterior replaced by a rapid monster. His ferocity took Aramis by surprise, almost failing to deflect his first attack. 

The two of them locked in battle and even in his weakened state, Aramis kept him at bay. But Lord Augustine’s fury was hard to combat. He knocked Aramis’ sword out of his hand and raised his own blade for a final strike. 

A great shot rang through the room.

Aramis turned to find you clutching Lady Augustine’s pistol in your hands. 

“For the women of Paris,” you muttered, letting the weapon fall from your exhausted grip. 

-

Everything moved fairly quickly from there. Augustine’s guards were arrested for aiding him, the bodies from the basement were removed to be properly buried, and Treville was furious that Aramis went against him but could hardly say anything about the results. 

But for all of the good that came out of it, Aramis hated every second for he was being hailed as the singular hero who solved the case and brought the killers to justice. You were left to the shadows of isolation and secrecy. 

He hadn’t even been allowed to see you since the soldiers had arrived at the manor. It pained him more than he could explain. Being apart from you felt like being kicked as he had in the cell- over and over until all he could feel was the ache. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Porthos asked, snapping his friend out of his trance. “Is that Augustine still bothering you?” He took the seat across from Aramis, shaking his head. “I’m just glad you shot the bastard. Men like that always have a way of escaping justice at a trial.”

Aramis opened his mouth to object, to announce that he hadn’t defeated the monster, that he’d almost been killed himself had it not been for the woman he couldn't get off his mind. But he felt Treville watching him from his office balcony and kept quiet.

“Aramis!” The Captain called down to him. He motioned for him to come with him and vanished behind his door. 

“Must be in trouble,” Porthos muttered teasingly. 

Aramis didn’t laugh. 

He trudged up the steps with the memory of Augustine’s threats toward you playing on his mind. Aramis pushed through the door feeling weighed down by all of the events and emotions plaguing him for the last several days. 

“You look like hell,” Treville sighed, leaning over his desk with a look of concern. “Come in. Sit.” 

Aramis did as he was told without any of his usual banter or clever remarks. 

Treville ran a hand down his face. “Have you mentioned the woman you worked with to anyone?” 

Aramis shook his head. 

“Good.” Treville took a seat. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, Y/N’s anonymity is imperative to her position with us. If anyone were to find out who she was or that she worked for me, it could put her in grave danger.”

“I understand.” 

“However,” Treville blew out a breath, “since neither of you seem to be able to stop moping about it.” He waved to someone in the corner of the room. 

You stepped forward. 

Aramis jumped up out of his seat, eyes widening. “Y/N.”

“Hello Aramis,” you smiled. 

For a man you’d wanted to shoot the first time you met him, the urge to run into his arms nearly overtook you. 

Treville cleared his throat. 

“I will give you two a moment to speak.” He eyed Aramis on the last word. “I can’t stand watching both of you sulk about anymore.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said quietly. 

Aramis bowed slightly as the captain left. 

The two of you turned back to each other. 

And closed the space between you. 

Aramis wrapped his arms around you, holding you as tight as he had when he held you in that horrible cell. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his presence even as it broke down the wall you’d spent years building around yourself. 

“I wasn’t sure what happened to you,” he said. “I knew that you were alright, but I haven’t been able to stop worrying.”

You pulled away to look into those eyes that had been in your dreams every night since you saw them first. 

“I was concerned that perhaps your injuries were worse than you let on,” you laughed lightly. “But I’m sure you’ve encountered worse.”

“I can handle a bump on the head, I assure you,” Aramis smiled. 

“I’m glad that the king’s finest can handle themselves.” You playfully poked his chest. “Even if they occasionally require a woman to rescue them.”

“I believe I rescued you first.” 

You raised a brow. “Whatever helps your precious musketeer ego.” 

Aramis chuckled, raising a hand to your cheek. 

You leaned into his touch.

The two of you drew closer. 

Abruptly, you pushed away. Your feet paced in front of the captain’s desk, trying to put distance between you and the man before you. 

“What are we doing?” You exclaimed, running your fingers through your hair. “A week ago, I never would have thought twice about an assignment, but you have changed everything for me.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Aramis wondered, taking a slow step toward you. 

“You don’t understand, Aramis. I’m not like you.” Your heart, usually cold and guarded, was breaking as you spoke. “I don’t live in the day and the battles and the light. I live in the secrets of this city. I am a shadow. I’m not real.”

“You are.” He closed the space again, putting his hands on your arms. “You are real.” 

“I am a lie,” you cried, shaking your head. “The things that I have to do… the depths to which I have had to sink in order to accomplish a mission… I could never ask you to live with that.”

“I don’t care about any of it.” He lifted his hand to your face again, running a thumb along your bottom lip. “Even if these lips speak lies, I know that there is truth in your heart.” He looked into your eyes. “And I know that you feel what I feel, otherwise you wouldn’t have come back to me.” 

“Aramis-” You blinked back desperate tears. He was right, of course. You couldn't remember the last time you’d felt like this. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt.

Now it was you who closed the air between you, catching his lips with yours, finally letting yourself be true. 

-

“And the rest is history,” Aramis beamed, kissing you as if it was for the first time. 

The three men before you sat in awed silence. Porthos even looked to be on the verge of tears.

“That’s a beautiful story,” he said, clearing his throat to keep his emotions in check. 

“Well, it was until the captain found out.” You winced at the memory. 

Needless to say, Treville was far from thrilled that his top spy was seeing one of his more ostentatious soldiers. Things especially got messy when Porthos found out, followed by Athos. And now D’Artagnan.

“So what happened after that?” D’Artagnan wondered. “The two of you don’t exactly have a lot of time in between assignments, I imagine.”

Aramis shrugged. “I spent every minute I could with her. And with every minute, I fell more and more in love.” 

“And what of the, um,” D’Artagnan cleared his throat, “more delicate parts of her work?” 

Aramis shot him a look. 

“We deal with it,” you said, pouring everyone more wine. “I do what I have to to protect this city and its people, just like the rest of you.”

“And she’s damn fine at her job.” Aramis kissed her cheek. “I can’t count all of the plots that have been defeated because of her courage and cunning.” 

You glanced at him. 

He cleared his throat. “Not that I know about any of the ones I’m definitely not supposed to know about.”

You rolled your eyes, rustled his hair, and pulled him in for another kiss. 

“I’m glad she’s on our side,” Athos said, giving you a smirk. 

“Here here,” Porthos cheered. 

The five of you clinked your cups together. 

It was a long and winding path that brought you here and an even longer one laid before you. But with these men to walk it beside you, with your loving husband to hold your hand along the way, it was a path you were more than happy to walk. 

[mcbride]

Daryl Dixon Rewatch S1E02 - Alouette

what i loved the most about this ep was getting to know these kids, their way of living and surviving, and how that allowed us to take a look at Daryl's own stolen childhood. but first things first, Daryl's one track mind - his goal is to return home, in spite of everyone he has any kind of conversation with telling him home/family is who you're with now.

also sassy!Daryl is back full force, and that's one of the things i love the most about this show. some more thoughts after the jump...

it's ironic and hilarious, how Daryl was deemed the one, the messenger, to protect the new Messiah by Isabelle, and the dude keeps getting tricked, trapped, bested by old dudes and children and saved by a nun and some random kids. one thing is what the characters say and believe, and the other is what we are watching on screen. Daryl's not a hero, and the show is making that clear, IMO. not with words, but with action.

Father Daryl, plsss. the moment he is saying grace surrounded by a bunch of children is one of the most genuine Daryl moments in years. there's some kind of innocence and honesty we rarely see that gives us another look into who he is. slurping some good soup without a care in the world for one brief moment in time.

and then there's Mork and Mindy, and how Daryl smiles watching it with them kids, his own childhood feeling so close and far away, bringing up old memories, the only happy memories of his brother Merle while they were kids. it's beautiful.

the share a bed scene with Izzy no one asked for, but that is meant to show they getting to know each other, and i get it, the show is doing it to keep us wondering if something is gonna transpire, keep us interested and invested.

when Daryl says the kids can't miss something they never had (aka normal childhood), he is talking about his own childhood, and perhaps soooo much more he wished he got to live and experience. i will not mention Carol cause that seems wildly inappropriate, but there i mentioned her. she's his only link to who he was and who he is now. despite them never openly talking about their history, Carol knows Merle, knows where he comes from, the type of life he had, and they are connected through that pain of what life should have been like if they hadn't been hurt by people who were supposed to love them and protect them in the past. anywaysss, i just got way too deep.

Daryl's desperation to get to that radio and take him one step closer to getting home makes him do something he normally wouldn't: LIE!!

RJ, the asshole, is telling him all that matters is getting back home to his wife and kids, and Daryl be like "dude, same," but he gets uncharacteristically cruel when he tells him that there's no home to get back to, that everybody is gone, and i can't help but think that's Daryl's own fears talking.

"i'm better off on my own," he said. he was def not since the kids had to pull him out of that walker pit after he blew shit up, like he does. the funny part was when he gets up like an old man with bad knees. there goes that hero!Daryl image out the window once again. he's feeling his age lol

then Daryl does the most Daryl thing he's done since he got to France. he put down that walker!kid for Lou. that's who Daryl is. he cares about people, he will take the weight off of them and offer some comfort. he's not a hero, but he is a good guy with a good heart. he is a man of honor. Carol was right! and he apologizes for lying to Lou.

Laurent should have stayed with those kids at the preschool. he obviously didn't wanna leave, he made friends, and they could teach him everything he needs to know how to survive and live and be happy. but he is "special," or so his aunt says. imma say it again, if Laurent is to have a happy ending, this is exactly where he should end up at. s2 i'll be seated and waiting for you to deliver Carol and Daryl saving this kid together, and letting him live happily ever after with this group.

that final bonding moment between Daryl and Laurent is very moving. Daryl keeps telling him he is lucky to have people who love him and who will protect him, something he himself never had. this ep took one deep dive into Daryl's childhood while still giving us the Laurent origin story. WELL DONE, Zabel.

see y'all next week!!!!

50 days left until the premiere of THE BOOK OF CAROL!!!!!

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 23

Word Count: 4.4K Warnings: medical procedures, death

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: goodness me, I know it's been forever since I've updated anything. I've been in a bit of a mental rut and nothing was coming to me, but I'm finishing up a couple of updates so I'll definitely be publishing a few things this week. Also, please don't hate me for updating the less loved Twilight fic. Speak is coming soon 🫣🫣 also also, new character 👀👀

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(Y/N) knew it had been too quiet for too long.

Well, not entirely quiet.

After the encounter with Laurent in the woods, his friend Victoria had shown up. The vampire had gone through hitchhikers in Forks like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. It had the sheriff station in Forks and La Push on high alert. There were too many bodies and not enough explanations—at least none that could be known by the public.

The pack had already doubled their efforts during their patrols, doing all in their power to run the redhead out of their land while protecting the Swan duo in theirs. They had lost sleep and had been overworked for weeks. The vampire had bested them in every move, taunting the pack with her swift and calculated moves.

But the important thing was that Bella was safe, and she seemed to be getting better. At least for the past couple of weeks, she had been better. That’s what (Y/N) thought until she got a call one early March morning.

“What do you mean Bella knows about you?” (Y/N) said through gritted teeth. “And it happened a week ago? Why am I just finding out? I literally talked to her before spring break started.”

“It seems Jacob hinted to the stories she used to hear when she was a kid,” Sam sighed. “Gotta give it to the kid. He really found a workaround the rules. I was gonna tell you as soon as it happened, but you had your exams and everything, so no one wanted to worry you with it.”

“How did she take it? Is everyone okay?”

“Well, Jake and Paul had a little row because Bella blamed us for Jacob keeping his distance from her,” her brother chuckled. “And, well, Paul got a bit mouthy, and Bella ended up slapping him—at least, attempting to—which cause him to get angry and phase. Subsequently Jacob phased to protect her. They’re both fine now and Bella knows everything.”

“And no rules were broken I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed. “But Bella now knows about wolves and vampires and somehow is back in the center of all supernatural danger. Isn’t this all just great?” 

“This is gonna sound harsh, but I prefer her being hunted than you, (Y/N),” Sam admitted. “I know we can protect you in our land, but this one is ruthless and relentless. I would hate for her to have your scent.”

“Well, she doesn’t, thankfully,” she said. “Don’t think she even had my description since you killed her friend. But I thought we were gonna be more proactive when sharing information now.”

“I know, but I wanted you to at least pass that test first,” he confessed. “Look at you now, on your first week as a student doctor.”

“I still can’t believe it’s happening,” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I don’t know what spirits are looking out for me, but it’s almost unbelievable that I’ve been able to do any of this. It takes months for Step 1 to be revised and for college credits to go through. But I’m knocking on wood that these miracles keep happening like this. Might just become the youngest doctor in Washington.”

“If there’s anyone who could do it, it had to be my genius sister.”

“Thanks for the flattery, it does me well in the mornings,” she chuckled. “But I do have to get into work soon. So, thank you for this new information. I will call Bella and see how she’s doing after my shift.”

“Alright, sounds good, Dr. Uley.”

“I like how that sounds,” she beamed. “I’ll see you after work. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dr. Uley.”

When (Y/N) entered the hospital that morning, she believed it would be another routine day. A couple of flu cases, possibly some broken bones in the ER, maybe even a more pressing case. But she had not expected to see Harry Clearwater coming through the doors of the emergency room, Sue trailing close behind.

“(Y/N), I’m gonna need you on this one,” Dr. Mollins, the ER attending, called. “Let’s move the patient to Trauma 1. Talk to me.”

“We’ve got a man in his mid to late 50s showing signs of a severe myocardial infarction,” the paramedic said as he pushed the gurney into the building. “He went into cardiac arrest during transport, but we were able to regain sinus rhythm. He was administered two milligrams of epi.”

(Y/N) felt stuck in her spot, her limbs frozen as the familiar faces moved past her. She had seen her fair share of emergencies during her time at the hospital and her past internships. But seeing someone that she knew completely defenseless and unconscious shot ice through her veins.

“Dr. Uley!” Mollins called her again. “I need you here, now!” 

“Yes, o-of course,” the young woman stammered as she felt her brain finally jumpstart. She sent Sue an apologetic smile as she walked through the curtain that separated Harry’s room from the rest of the beds. “I’m here.”

As soon as she slid the curtain behind her, (Y/N), Eden Mollins, and a nurse started to examine Harry. His blood was extracted, his pulse and his blood pressure were taken, his lungs were listened to, and his temperature was taken. All the while, the man remained unconscious, and (Y/N) prayed to whatever was out there that he at least opened his eyes.

Every second that passed, the girl’s breath hitched in her throat. All she could do was think back at the summers she would spend in the Clearwaters home, running around with Seth and Leah while Harry watched over them, how he and Billy would gather all the kids around the bonfire to tell them stories about the ancestors, how he watched over her and Sam when her father had decided to disappear from their lives.

“I wanna run an EKG and an Echo on the patient,” Eden instructed. “And call in a CT and a chest MRI. The patient is still unconscious, so…”

“Harry,” (Y/N) choked out. “His name is Harry.”

“Excuse me?”

“The patient’s name is Harry,” she restated. “Harry Clearwater.”

“Do you know the pa… Mr. Clearwater, Uley?”

“Yes, I do.”

“You have to tell me right now if that will impair your treatment of the patient today, Uley,” the doctor said. “I cannot have you freeze like you did.”

“Good,” he nodded. “He seems stable for now, so go out there and get some background from the wife. Can you do that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright then.”

The doctor slid the curtains open to reveal a teary-eyed Sue. Once he was gone, (Y/N) allowed herself to throw her arms around the woman, wrapping her in a tight, warm hug as she whispered how sorry she was. “What happened, Sue?” she whispered. “What caused this? He seemed fine last week.”

“Oh gods, (Y/N), it was just too much for him,” the woman sniffled. “It was Leah. She phased.”

“W-what? Leah shifted into a wolf? How is that possible?”

“That’s not all. The second Harry was down, Seth phased too,” she added. “He said only boys turned into wolves, (Y/N). How could it be that Leah is one too?”

“I could not tell you, Sue,” (Y/N) breathed. “This is just as new to me as it is to you. But what could have triggered the change in Leah? I don’t get it. Thought there were normally signs.”

“Well, she had been acting out a lot recently, and her body started changing dramatically. I thought she was just being a normal moody teenager and that maybe she was going through a second puberty,” Sue sighed. “But this morning, we were arguing about how horrible her mood swings had been, and she just exploded. One second, my daughter was standing before us. And the next, there was a grey wolf breaking through our couch. The shock sent Harry down. His heart just couldn’t take it—you know he’s always had trouble with it. Then, Seth—poor thing—seeing his father go down got so anxious that he shifted too. I tried calling Sam after I called 911, but Emily told me he was out with his wolves chasing that leech out of the forest. “It was all so sudden, (Y/N),” the woman cried, taking (Y/N)’s offered hand. “She ran out the door with Seth behind and I couldn’t stop them. I had to get Harry to the hospital.”

“Oh, Sue, that’s just horrible,” the girl said. “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Tell me, (Y/N). Is it bad? Is Harry gonna be okay?”

(Y/N) took in a steadying breath as she braced herself to tell one of the people who had essentially raised her that her husband was not showing good signs. How could she speak those words when she didn’t want to believe them herself? “Look, Sue, I can’t lie to you. Things are not looking good,” she explained. “With his age, his pre-existing condition, and the severity of this episode, it’s still too early to tell. We need him to wake up in order to assess the situation fully. If not…”

“I know,” Sue interjected. “I just don’t know what I would do without him.”

“Okay, let’s not go there just yet, Sue,” (Y/N) stammered. “Why don’t you call someone to be with you while we run labs? I wouldn’t want you to be alone right now.”

“Don’t worry about me, (Y/N),” she softly smiled. “I already called Charlie and Billy. They’re on their way here already.”

“Good. I’m gonna go check on his labs. If you need anything or need me here, just let one of the nurses know and they’ll page me right back.”

“That’s alright, (Y/N). I know you’re busy.”

When she left the room, (Y/N) finally felt like she could breathe. But there was a nagging in the deepest corners of her head that was telling her that something bad was going to go down. Yet, she wanted to listen to the rational side of her brain. Harry was in the best place to receive treatment if another episode were to happen. She had to trust that they would be able to help him. She simply had to.

The girl busied herself with other patients’ labs and filing anything that kept her as far away from Harry’s results as possible. She couldn’t face another loss so quickly. Not yet. She wasn’t sure if her heart could take it.

During her short life, (Y/N) had faced too many grievances that had forced her to grow up too quickly. Her father had walked out of her life when she was too young, and she needed him the most, forcing her mother to spend too much time at work and too little time at home. Most of the time, it was only Sam and her at home dealing with their schoolwork and food. Then, right as they were learning how to be the dynamic duo, she was accepted at St. Agustine Prep, and she had to learn how to be by herself for the better part of four years. After, she met the man she thought would be her future, and he ripped her heart apart like it hadn’t been fragile to begin with. Sadness was simply a part of (Y/N)’s existence, but she didn’t think there was more she could take.

(Y/N) prayed quietly. She prayed harder than she ever had before in her life. She didn’t know to what exactly, but she prayed.

And yet, the universe rarely played things out in the way she wanted.

The young woman was on her way to greet Billy Black and Charlie Swan when a loud ringing alarm called her attention. It was the soundtrack of despair, the theme song of disappointment, and the last thing (Y/N) wanted to hear. Her legs started moving before she could think twice, setting off for Harry’s room. There, the flatlining sound filled her ears, mixed with Sue’s pleas for help as nurses pulled her aside to allow the doctors to work.

“The patient’s coding, Uley,” Eden called out. “Start compressions. This is your call.”

(Y/N) was already on Harry before Mollins had finished his sentence. Her full attention was on her counts, pressing on his chest like she had been taught to do. One, two, three, four, all the way to thirty before the nurse administered air pumps. Then again, and again.

“Push one milligram of epi,” (Y/N) called out, not stopping her compressions for another three minutes. “Check rhythm.” 

As she removed her hands, the screen showed a red line once more, and that pesky sound filled the room again. “Still asystole,” Eden said. “Push another milligram and clear for defib.” 

(Y/N) continued her work as sweat formed on her forehead. She pushed into the man’s chest at a steady pace, even when she felt her limbs wanted to give out. Her legs trembled under her, and her heart hammered loudly against her chest, but she couldn’t stop. Even after two defibrillations that yielded no results, the girl kept administering compressions.

“Uley, it’s time to call it,” Mollins whispered softly at the young doctor. “It’s been over thirty minutes.” 

“No!” (Y/N) exclaimed. Beads of sweat were falling down her face and mixing with her tears, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Not for Harry. “I’ve gotta keep going!” 

“(Y/N),” Eden called her, taking hold of her wrists and forcing her gaze to break from the man. “It’s time to call it.”

“I can’t,” she trembled as she fell onto the doctor. “He can’t…” 

But the consistent sound of a flatline killed her words. That was it. Her first patient was gone, and it was someone she had looked up to like a father. Despite all of her efforts, he was gone, and there was nothing else she could do about it.

“Time of death: 1542,” the doctor called to the nurse before turning back to the crumbling girl. “You did everything you could, (Y/N). You did everything right.”

“But he’s gone,” she cried. “He’s gone, and I could’ve done more.”

“No. There was nothing at all that you could have done,” Eden said. "Unfortunately, this is part of the job. We can’t save them all, (Y/N), but you absolutely did everything you could have.” 

“I know I can’t save them all, but I needed to save him.” 

“Tell you what, I’m gonna break the news to the family right now,” the young man said. “You’re gonna take a second to compose yourself before you go out there, and I want you to take the rest of the day off to rest.” 

“I shouldn’t…” 

“I know that it’s unconventional, and most doctors would have said that you needed to get used to it,” he added. “But you need this, (Y/N). This case is too personal, and I know it’s gonna take a toll on you.” 

“Okay,” she whimpered. “Thank you, Dr. Mollins.” 

“I already told you, (Y/N). When we’re off a case, it’s Eden.” 

The moment Eden left the room, the silence that filled it was worse than the beeping and the alarms. It was eerie and loaded, and it made (Y/N) feel like it would swallow her at any moment.

Yet, the only other presence there was Harry. His face was covered with a white sheet, shielding his body from everyone. And for that, she was thankful. (Y/N) couldn’t look at his face. She knew her mind would trick her into thinking that he was merely sleeping and that at any moment, he would wake up and say the most unfunny joke she had heard of, but she would have laughed anyway because it would have meant that he was alive.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered to him. “I tried so hard. I hope you know that.”

“He does, honey.” Sue’s voice startled her. Tears stained the woman’s face, but her desperation was gone. She wrapped her arms around the younger girl, smoothing down her hair in a comforting manner. “He knows how hard you fought for him, (Y/N). It was just his time.”

“He was fine just last week,” she sobbed. “I can’t believe he’s just gone now.”

“As long as he is in our memories, he will never truly be gone,” the woman smiled sadly. “But he is with our spirits now, reunited with his ancestors.”

“Harry will never be forgotten that I can promise you, Sue.”

“He really loved you, (Y/N),” Sue mentioned. “He was always so amazed by everything that you were doing. He loved to boast about how far he knew you’d go to literally anyone who would listen. Deep down, he wanted Leah and Sam to work out so we’d be officially family.”

“I’m really gonna miss him, Sue. I wish I had spent more time with him these last few years. And now…”

“Oh, honey, no. Don’t do that,” the woman comforted. “Harry knew how busy you are, how busy you’ve always been. He was just so happy to know you were doing something you loved.”

“May his soul rest easy now,” the girl whimpered before placing a hand on Harry’s. “Until we meet again, Harry.”

(Y/N) excused herself from the room, allowing Sue to have one last moment with Harry. Outside, she acknowledged Charlie and Billy, giving them a sad smile before she disappeared into the doctor’s locker rooms. She couldn’t face another person who was close to Harry, not when she could still feel the beat of his heart under her hands.

Inside the locker room, she allowed herself to break down. She crumpled to the floor, clutching at her chest as every emotion came barreling down on her. There was pain and turmoil, anger and disappointment. But most of all, it was the harrowing sadness that she had been carrying since she was a little girl that draped itself over her, swallowing her completely and dragging her into the darkness.

Until a voice pulled her out. “Hey, hey, Uley,” Eden called as he kneeled in front of her. “Come on, you need to breathe. Take a deep breath.”

“I-I-I c-can’t,” she stammered. Her breath got trapped in her chest, tightening her lungs and making them burn for oxygen.

“Yes, you can. Come on,” he encouraged. “Match my breaths, okay? Come on, in and out.”

Eden took deep breaths, exhaling after holding them for five seconds. His hands found hers, forcing her gaze to snap to his. He continued the breathing exercises until she was finally able to match his pace. Her body stopped shaking, and feeling started returning to her limbs as her sobs quieted down. As weakness took over her, (Y/N) crashed onto Eden’s chest, allowing him to wrap her in a warm and comforting hug.

It was an unexpected embrace that she was more than thankful for. Eden had come to the hospital three months after Carlisle had left to fill the hole left in the emergency department. When (Y/N) had entered and started her clinical rotations, he had been tasked with being her teacher in emergency medicine.  

He had not taken to her quickly. From her work as a medical assistant, he had said she was far too young and too inexperienced to be in the hospital. Though he had eaten his words in a short amount of time, he still seemed to hold some sort of disdain for her. At least, that’s what she had thought until that very moment.

“Hey, there you go,” he cooed. “Just keep breathing, okay?”

“Gods,” (Y/N) croaked out. “I’m sorry. I know I should be okay with death, but this…”

“You don’t have to apologize, (Y/N). Never apologize for the emotions you’re feeling,” Eden reassured. “Especially not after losing someone close to you. That is something no one could ever fault you for.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” the girl blurted. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but it’s not a secret that you don’t really like me.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, his tone hinting at being slightly offended. “I don’t think I’ve given any indication of that.”

“Come on, Eden. You’re always giving me dirty looks and have gotten mad at me at any turn this whole week. It’s not hard to decipher that you don’t really enjoy my presence at the hospital.”

“Oh god, no. That has nothing to do with you—at least not directly,” he quickly assured. "I think you’re a brilliant doctor, and I’m honestly so impressed that you’re here at your age. My attitude has more to do with the fact that my parents saw you working here a week after I finally got here, and they were on me because I could have been like you.”

“What, a terrified nineteen-year-old playing at being a doctor?”

“Christ, I didn’t think you’d heard that,” he grimaced. “That came from a really childish place. It’s just that my parents have always pushed me to be the best, much to my detriment. I had the ability to jump a few grades or do dual enrollment like you did, but I wanted the whole high school experience. So, even if I graduated at sixteen and finished my bachelor's in three years, I could have always done better. So, here I am at twenty-five and already an attending, but in comes a nineteen-year-old med student who somehow was able to skip two whole years of med school and had an almost perfect Step 1 score, and suddenly my achievements aren’t good enough anymore. I’m sorry I ever said that. I mean, I’m a grown-ass man caring what my parents think.”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled softly. “It just made me want to prove myself even more. I’m kind of used to people underestimating me.”

“Yeah, I quickly learned I shouldn’t have,” he chuckled. “You’re a great doctor, (Y/N), and a great person.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. "It honestly means a lot coming from you, especially now.”

“I can promise that was the first and last time I ever underestimate you,” Eden smiled brightly.  “Now, you should go home. Your brother just came back.”

“Came back?”

“He arrived when you were down at the CT scan, but he left for an emergency,” the man responded. “He just came back a minute after you left the room.”

At the word emergency, (Y/N) jumped to her feet and ran toward the emergency room, new tears forming in the corners of her eyes. It was a word that held too much weight even before the entire picture was shown. After that morning, the girl could only expect the worst.

Her limbs carried her automatically, her brain not registering where she was going until she crashed into someone. “Is someone else hurt?” she managed to croak out. “Tell me what happened, Sam.”

“Hey, breathe, (Y/N),” her brother instructed as he wrapped his arms tightly around her. “No one’s hurt. Okay? It was just an accident.”

“That still doesn’t make things clearer. What accident?”

“Bella sort of jumped or slipped off a high cliff while we were running Victoria all the way up to the Canadian border,” he said. “I had been here for no more than ten minutes when Jared called me and said that Jake had gotten there just in time. She’s fine now. A bit shaken up and cold, but she’s at Billy’s house resting. You don’t have to worry, (Y/N). It’s been handled.”

“So, she almost drowned, and all she’s doing is sleeping it off?” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Why didn’t you bring her here? She needs to be checked out!”

“(Y/N), I need you to calm down, okay? She chose not to come, and you shouldn’t be worrying about this. You should be going home and resting, too.”

“But she’s…”

“You’re in no headspace to worry about other people, Bean,” Sam cooed as he smoothed down his sister’s hair. “Go home, kid. Rest up. We’ve got things from here.”

“But…”

“Go home, (Y/N),” Sue interjected, a kind smile softly stretching her face. “All that’s left here is legal mumbo jumbo. You’ve done everything you possibly can.”

“I just feel like I need to help in some way. Either here or with Bella. I just…”

“You can’t help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself, Bean,” her brother interrupted. “I promise we’ve got everything handled here, kid.”

After much insistence and a lot of back-and-forth, (Y/N) finally agreed to take her afternoon off and head back home. But loneliness was quick to follow as soon as she was by herself. It sank its claws into her throat and started a never-ending stream of tears that stained her cheeks. Helplessness gripped her chest, nagging at her mind and reminding her of all the things she couldn’t do.

Before she knew it, the afternoon had slowly shifted into night, and (Y/N)’s eyes had fluttered shut in the hospital parking lot. Now, with less weight in her heart and a tight knot in her neck, she sputtered her truck to life and started her trip back home, where she would most likely repeat the same process all over again.

When she got there, the house was eerily quiet, and the cold seeped into her bones as though winter was still scratching its way to the surface. But she knew why it felt that way, and she knew it would be like that for a long time.

Other than Sue, (Y/N) couldn’t get Seth and Leah out of her head. Not only had they been sprung into the supernatural world in such a dramatic way, but they had also lost their father and had not been able to say goodbye. She wondered if they were scared or angry, if a part of them felt guilty. She knew she did, and she couldn’t imagine how heavy it had to weigh on their own hearts and minds.

She was typing their house number when her house phone suddenly rang in her hand, startling her. “Hello?” she said through the phone.

“(Y/N), hi, it’s uh, Bella,” the Swan girl stammered in her usual fashion. “I heard about… I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks, Bella,” she smiled sadly, swallowing down the knot that threatened to close her throat. “Are you okay? Sam told me what happened this morning.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. It was just a horrible accident,” Bella answered quickly. “But I’m fine now. I was actually calling about something else.”

“Oh. Uh, what is it?” 

“Do you think you could come over right after the funeral?”

“To your house?” (Y/N) questioned. “Why?”

“I think there’s someone you should see.” 

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