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iaminfourthwing · 9 months ago

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The Generals Daughter

Chapter III

The sun is up when we stand in formation the next day while Captain Fitzgibbons reads from the death roll. The courtyard is hollowed in almost deadly silence.

We’re all in our assigned uniforms for first years with our patches added and while some of us look like they got a decent amount of sleep last night, I didn`t and I feel like I am ready to be send to Malek. But my mind was running on high speed and I was way too paranoid to sleep, ready for the (mostly im)possible scenario someone might try to pull some shit at night, even though it would be against the Codex. Violet next to me looks like she struggles but is keeping her head high. She is strong which makes me proud.

“We command their souls to Malek.” Oh, we were at the end already.

“Hopefully you all ate breakfast, because you`re not going to get another chance before lunch” Dain says, “and I hope at least one of you first years has the academic schedule remembered.”

“And if we’re not?” someone behind us says. Is he dumb?

“Then I don`t have to be concerned with forgetting your name” Aetos shrugs. Well.

“Sawyer” he looks to the left at a first year. Ah, Sawyer Henrick, the freckled guy that repeats the first year because he didn`t bond during Threshing last year. It takes some balls to do this shit again, he has my full respect.

“I`ll get them there” he answers and turns to the nine of us first years. “Fourth floor, second room on the left in the academic wing. Get your shit and don`t be fucking late” he shouts and heads off to the dormitory.

“This must be shit, doing this again” Rhiannon states.

“Better than being dead” the guy from before claims as he walks on my right side. I think his name is Ridoc but I am not sure. I look around, not saying anything and make my way to the dorms, not noticing that Violet isn't by my side anymore. In her place walks Rhiannon. “Where-“ “Dain” she says before I can ask. Damn Aetos, so much for being subtle.

We`re off to grab our (and Violets) stuff and head over to the academic wing for history, which is going to be boring for both Violet and myself. Violet was trained to be a scribe, so she knows it all, and I had to study everything anyways, order from my father.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Welcome to your first Battle Brief” Professor Devera greets us. This will be the only class we`ll have every day.

She takes her time to scan the rows of first years, looking at every cadet she sees, while the second and third years are scattered behind us.

At first, she makes eye contact with Violet next to me and gives her a small smile and nod but when her eyes find mine, she tenses and stops. For around three second it`s quiet, then she nods and continues. Rolling my eyes, I look to the left at Violet, seeing a concerned frown adorning her face. I send her a reassuring smile and turn back to the front where Professor Markham stands. He looks at Violet with disappointment, not because of her personally but the lost chances with that great brain of hers. She would have been an excellent scribe.

His gaze sways over to my side and just like with Panchek, his face pales instantly and fear strikes his facial features, not because of me but the one I share my last name with. Letting out a frustrated sigh I switch my focus on my quill, distracting myself before I start to scream out of annoyance. For fucks sake, I am NOT my father. Why is everyone acting like he rules the fucking continent?

“First topic of the day,” Devera moves to the map “the Eastern Wing experienced an attack last night near the village of Chakir by a drift of Braevi gryphons and their riders.” Oh damn. I sit straighter and focus on the map. Good thing when you have an excellent working memory – you can focus more on the front, less on your notes.

She gives further information and I take it all in. It’s bad enough that dragons aren`t the only animals capable of channeling powers to their riders. But the dragons are the only ones of powering the wards that makes other power impossible within these wards. They make sure we aren`t fucked up by the gryphons and their riders.

“…What questions would you ask? Only answers from first years for the start.”

Okay first of all, why the fuck are the wards faltering and more importantly what caused them to falter in such an unlikely place? They would never answer that question because none of us is authorized in that matter.

The second question would be, why they would choose this place for an attack? The Esben Mountain Range is the highest on the eastern border and the gryphons don`t go really well with altitudes like this. Furrowing my eyebrows, I try to find a pattern in the latest attacks. It doesn`t make any sense. But maybe … maybe they were searching for something.

“Did you want to ask a question?” Devera asks Pryor, a first year in our squad, who doesn`t really knows if he should raise his hand or not.

“Yes” he nods. Then – “No. Never mind.”

“So decisive” Luca, another first year from our squad, mocks him. Aurelie tries to ease the tension but Luca is not done with her teasing.

“No dragon is bonding to a guy who can`t even decide if he wants to ask a question. And have you seen –“ I scoff loudly, rolling my eyes at her demeanor to finally bring an end to this shit, which makes her turn around in her seat a row in front of me. If some of them are already kind of terrified with my face here, why not use it?

Her eyes meet mine and she realizes who interrupted her. She quickly turns back to the map without saying anything anymore.

I hear Violet and Rhiannon whisper to each other but don`t understand anything.

“What altitude is the village at?” Rhiannon finally asks. Oh, that`s a good question, matches with mine I had in my head. It`s Professor Markham who answers, surprised by it. “A little less than ten thousand feet, why?”

“It seems a little high for an attack with gryphons.” Good safe, because now I just realized that the question came from Violet. Smartass.

“… to ask your own questions, Cadet Sorrengail.” Shit, I need to start listening and try not to zone out all the time. Seems like the girl next to me has now all the attention on her. Great job, Vi.

Violet goes on about how this altitude is way too high for gryphons and their ability to channel. Looks like a thought crosses her genius brain as her next question is based on Devera’s information that the squad of riders took an hour to arrive.

“Then they were already on their way” she says. And while I can see what she is talking about – the rest of the first years decide to judge instead of thinking, some of them start to laugh.

“Yeah, because that makes sense” a blonde guy turns around in his seat to laugh directly in her face. Jack fucking Barlowe, the asshole that threw a candidate down the Parapet tried to kill Violet and still has it out for her.

“General Melgren knows the outcome of a battle before it happens, but even he doesn`t know when it will happen, dumbass. Am I right, Melgren Junior?” His eyes find mine when an evil smirk finds its way onto his face. Don`t fucking tempt me, asshole. I am not interested in a conversation with you.

My lack of response seems to annoy him because he tries it again. “I said, am I righ-“

“There is no need to repeat yourself. I ignored you just fine the first time.”

Stunned silence from Barlowe, startled gasps from other cadets, choked laughter from Ridoc. “Oh shit, that was good, Arya!” he laughs next to me and clasps his hand on my shoulder. Yeah no, I don`t think so Ridoc. I should try to keep my mouth shut with that one before I'll regret it.

Violet ignores my remark and continues with her theory and it seems like she is right, because Devera and Markham both look proud and with a knowing smile on their face. “Because they somehow knew the wards were breaking” she finishes.

“That`s the most-“Jack argues. Does he ever know when to stop?! “She`s right.” HA! I have a proud grin on my face, I love her brain!

“Cadet Melgren” I am called by Devera. Startled I raise my head, brow hitting my hairline.

“What would you ask in aspect of the attack?” she asks me. For a moment I study the map again, trying to sort my thoughts.

“What were they looking for and most importantly, did they find it?”

A slow smile spreads over Deveras face and even Markham looks intrigued by my question. “What makes you think they were out looking for something?”

“Well, it just makes sense they searched for something. Like Cadet Sorrengail said, the attack took action at the most illogical place for a drift of gryphons.” I pause, bringing my thoughts into formation. “The wards failing was not a coincidence and even though it seems like they were just passing by, they weren`t. They somehow knew the wards would falter in that specific moment. But whatever they were looking for, it must have been really important if they risk their drift to attack this high up in the mountains.” I finish.

I can hear Ridoc next to me cheering quietly in his seat. And while the first and some of the second years don’t think that far yet, I am pretty sure some of the third years had a similar question in mind, because I hear approving whispers behind me. Years of learning and studying are finally paying off.

“Just like your father. Always thinking ahead and seeing the important aspects. Good job, Melgren.” Everyone else would see it as a compliment but …

I hate it, with all my heart, because I desperately want to be everything but like my father. Violet takes my hand, knowing how much I hate to be compared to the General.

#fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #iron flame #bodhi durran #xaden riorson #bodhi durran x oc #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing by rebecca yarros #rebecca yarros #booktok #violet sorrengail

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mageofquandrix · 26 days ago

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i was going to say fight fight fight then saw necrorizzard about choked so. that one.

Ha, can you tell I have a middle schooler?

Anyway, this is part of my canon playthrough fic. It takes place after the confirmed interest scene, but before the romance lock-in, in Emmrich's romance.

As always - first draft! Please be kind!

Emmrich expected the dining hall to be full of people, so he was surprised when the door, propped open to see Rook standing by the stove with Manfred in an otherwise empty room.

He stood at the doorway taking in the scene for a moment. Lucien’s sleeves were pushed up to his elbows and the collar to his shirt hung open. He was barefoot in trousers that had been nearly hemmed. He was demonstrating something at the stove for Manfred, who was hissing happily.

“Pardon my lateness,” he said, and he joined them by the stove, setting the little basket of side dishes on the work bench. “Or am I early?”

“You're right on time. Everyone had plans tonight, so I taught Manfred how to make flatbread, like a proper Navarran.” Manfred made a happy trill, and held up a plate of misshapen, singed little breads.

(Now, the necrorizzard part)

“Oh, undoubtedly” laughed Emmrich, as he brought the wine to the table. “I’ve never been accused of being lacking in romanticism. I admit, in my grander moments, imagine you racing your way across Thedas, hot on the Dread Wolf’s trail and a heartbroken lover at every port. However, I promise not to be too disappointed when I hear the cold reality of it.“

Lucien barked out a laugh, his hand slapping the table with the force of it. “Good, because I assure you, we were always many steps behind Solas, and there was a distinct lack of lovers, heartbroken or otherwise” he shook his head and chuckled, wiping a bit of moisture from his eyes.

“Well, I find that hard to believe,“ said Emmrich, clearly surprised as he poured them both the glass of wine. “A young man such as yourself, and with all your charm? You surely must have caught eyes in a tavern or two, at least.”

“I doubt it,” Lucien insisted, shaking his head. “I used to get that sort of attention, though less than you seem to be imagining. But I’m afraid my luck with any of that went the same as my eye and Baron von Markham during the War of the Banners.” He gestured vaguely to the scarred side of his face before fishing out a dolma.`

“I was under the impression that scars were commonly considered attractive,” argued Emmrich, his brow furrowed as he leaned back in his chair, giving Lucien a considering look that made Lucien turn the right side of his face away.

“A scar or two, sure,” said Lucien, his voice clipped. “But Emmrich, be serious. Everyone knows there’s a great difference between the line of a knife or two, and having the side of your face burned off.”

His voice had gotten louder the longer he spoke, and when he stopped, the silence echoed, a thick awkward tension settling in it. Lucien sighed and shook his head at himself, then busied himself digging through the dips and spreads, setting them out. “Oh, excellent,” he said, plainly trying to fill the silence. “I love these. You’ve excellent taste.“

“Lucien,“ Emmrich began slowly, ignoring his overture. “I apologize, I didn’t mean-”

“No, no, it’s all right,” reassured Lucien, and he smiled kindly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s not your fault. I- well. I suppose I’m a bit sensitive about it. I hadn’t considered vanity one of my flaws, but this experience has taught me otherwise. All the worse that it’s my own fault.” When Lucien laughed, it was a hollow sound, and he looked to the fire as he took a long sip of his wine.

“Lucien.” Emmerich put a hand on Lucien‘s arm and looked at him seriously, until finally Lucien looked back at him. “I assure you, you are still a very beautiful man.“ He held Lucien’s gaze, and his manner was so serious, so clearly unallowing any argument, that Lucien’s protests died in his throat. He tried to look away instead, but a finger caught him under his chin, tilting his head so that Emmrich was looking him in the eye once more. His gaze was heavy, and Lucien found he didn’t feel so much pinned as settled, somehow, beneath it. “A very beautiful man.“

“Well,” Lucien finally said, after the several long moments it took to make his tongue to work again, “if you think so-” His hand went up to take the fingers holding his chin. “Then I suppose I'd rather not dissuade you.”

He brought Emmrich’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his knuckles. The feel of the rings against his lips briefly brought to mind the image of a knight pledging himself to a lord - a notion that didn’t feel quite as absurd as it should in this strange cocoon of tension they’d built. Emmrich gave him a hooded look, the one that always made his stomach swoop, always made him look away, blushing. But this time, Lucien didn’t look away; he held his gaze, even his heart raced and he swallowed thickly around his tongue.

When pulled his lips away, he kept hold of both Emmrich’s hand and his gaze, gently stroking the back of his knuckles with his thumb. “I feel as though I must tell you,” he said, and when had his voice gotten so quiet? It seemed beyond his ability to speak any louder. “That I also find you to be a very beautiful man.”

There was a pop in the fire that made him startle, and he released Emmrich’s hand quickly, clearing his throat, and taking a long sip of his wine. When had it gotten so warm in the room? “Um, what was I-” he started, a bit lost. When he glanced to Emmrich for help, he had to quickly look away when he saw the heated look Emmrich was giving him.

[note:gotta be a different word for this, look is 3x in the sentence]

From the corner of his eye, he saw Emmrich’s lips turn up in a satisfied smile. He hadn’t realized wine could be sipped smugly, but that was the only explanation for how Emmrich drank from his glass “I believe you were going to tell me about your adventures,” he supplied, his voice dropped an octave. Lucien squirmed in his seat, and firmly ignored the eyebrow that raised, even as his cheeks went hot.

#emmrich x rook #rook x emmrich #emmrook #lucien ingellvar #emmrich volkarin #datv #datv fanfic #my WIPs #my fanfic

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artyandink · 10 months ago

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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

one - green lights and red stains

TWO MONTHS EARLIER:

I was at my desk in Big Sky Country, Montana’s sheriff’s department, papers strewn over the desk in a similar fashion as they were at home. Making small mountains and also making me rather sympathetic for the trees who suffered just to have me keep ‘em all like this on another plank of wood on more sticks of wood. However, I couldn’t bring myself to clean them, not today. As well as that, the acting sheriff had made his speech today, and I knew if he’d talk to me, I wouldn’t make a great impression, not with all this mess.

“Ain’t this a sight?” I looked up to see none other than Sheriff Arlen, standing in front of me, his stance wide set as he peered at my scribblings which varied between neat and scrawling handwriting. I jolted a little, panic striking through me as I began to shuffle my files into a more orderly pile, but he held out his hand to put me at ease. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Truth be told, I’m not the most organised either.”

In response, I stood up laughing a bit as I ran my hand through my hair, the action not as smooth and easygoing as I hoped as my index encountered a knot in my raven hair which I quickly untangled. “Well, I’m afraid this is what you’ll be seein’ every day.” I gestured down in circular motions to the messy piles.

“Then I’m lookin’ forward to it.” He put out his hand with a broad grin, green eyes twinkling along with his startlingly white teeth. He had an air of giddy charm and confidence around him that I couldn’t help but crack a smile to. “Beau Arlen.”

“Isabelle Joyner.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. His grip was strong, but comforting in a sense.

“Well, darlin’, I’ve heard some good things about you from Jenny Hoyt, or Hoyt, as she wants me to call her.” Beau chuckled at the thought, glancing towards Jenny, who was in conversation with Poppernak. “She’s a real firecracker.”

“That’s Jenny for you.” I smiled, nodding resignedly and also flicking my eyes to her. “She knows me better than anyone; we’ve been best friends for as long as I remember.” Then I spotted the uncertainty in his eyes as he once more looked at Jenny, and I laughed a bit. “She’ll warm up to you. She’s just a bit miffed, y’know, didn’t get put as acting Sheriff.”

“I learnt that the easy way and the hard way.” He snickered slightly, his shoulders shrugging. “Well, it’s a lesson well learnt.”

“Damn straight.” I grinned, putting my hands in my pockets, and we fell silent for a moment before it got a bit uncomfortable. “Anyway, welcome to Big Sky. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“I goddamn hope so.”

NOW:

“Liv, sweetie?” I called up the stairs, my eyes darting back to the pancake cooking on the stove. It was half past eight in the morning, and I needed to get Olivia, my niece, to her stepfather’s house. Her mother - my sister - had been… lost. In a murder, six years back, but they’d never found who’d done it. In her will, she’d given custody of Olivia to me, that the court had approved. Her stepfather, Markham, was not happy, but there was little he could do.

“Yeah?” Came her sleepy voice from upstairs, making me laugh quietly. She’d grown so much since I got her as a timid nine year old. Now she was sixteen in a week and the most beautiful girl I’d ever see. She was my baby girl at this point, and I couldn’t be prouder.

“I’ve got work, hon, and I’m makin’ pancakes!” I heard a brief pause, then a scramble to get up. I smiled knowingly, returning to the pancake as the thunder of footsteps down the stairs signalled her arrival. Her blonde hair bounced in stunning curls and her brown eyes flashed excitedly, even though they were riddled with sleep. I passed her a plate of pancakes stacked up, shaking the whipped cream. “Mornin’, gumdrop.” I grinned cheerily. “What would you like on your pancakes, hm?”

“Whipped cream, syrup, and raspberries.” She replied instantly, then returned my smile. “And good morning, auntie.” Olivia gave me a bear hug, which I returned gladly, kissing her hair before letting her go with a pat on the back.

“Good choice.” I squirmed the whipped cream in a circle, grabbing the syrup bottle and drizzling it generously before passing her a bowl of freshly washed raspberries so she could knock herself out, also sliding her a fork and knife. “Dig in.”

“Hello, there!” I heard Jenny call, the door opening. Jenny and Cassie walked in with big smiles on their faces, especially so when they found the combination of Olivia and pancakes. “Hope you don’t mind, we just used the spare key under the deco rock.”

“And I’m glad we did, because why weren’t we invited to the party?” Cassie faux-gasped as she gestured to the pancakes.

“Elle, explain yourself.” Jenny chastised, raising an eyebrow at me, but when I passed them each a plate of pancakes, they melted. “Ok, no explanation needed.”

“Yep, we’re all good now, no beef here.” Cassie agreed, dolloping whipped cream on hers before passing the canister to Jenny. “Also, hi, Olivia.”

“Hey, Cassie.” Liv waved with a smile and a mouthful of pancake. “Hi, Jenny.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Jenny grinned, waving before digging into the pancakes.

“Never knew I’d be catering for four today.” I chuckled, turning off the stove and embellishing my own plate of pancakes, making it even more of a sugar rush than it already was.

“Well, now we get to boast to Beau about what we got cooked.” She replied with a cheeky smile. “He’s always returnin’ with clean dishes of what Denise cooked, so I guess we could clap back a little.”

“His favourite deputy cooked us pancakes and not him.” Cassie giggled, making me roll my eyes. These two.

“Shut up. Both of you.” I snickered, trying to remain stern. “If Sheriff Arlen wants pancakes, he can come over and I can make him some pancakes, it’s not exclusive.”

“And here I thought we were special.”

“Aw, hey, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“She did.” Olivia giggled.

“Yeah, she did.” Jenny gave me a look before we all burst out into laughter. We spent a bit of time chatting as we finished our pancakes, telling Olivia the ups and downs of our latest solved case and what movie we wanted for movie night this week. When we were done, I picked up my keys, jangling them.

“Olivia, time to go.” I smiled, but Cassie put her hand on my arm with a smile.

“I’ll drop her off.” She chuckled, holding up her own keys. “I know where Mark lives, and it’s on my way.

“You’re not exactly the most civil with the guy.”

“That’s cause he’s an ass, but I’ll try my best.”

We engaged in a staring contest for five seconds, until I gave in, nodding in defeat. “Fine. But if I get a call from my brother in law-”

“You won’t!” She raised her hands in surrender. “I promise. Now, you and Jenny need to get to work before Beau rings you up.”

“God forbid he does.” I joked.

“C’mon, he hasn’t had the heart to tell you off after you found the hostages a few weeks ago, one of them happening to be his daughter. Another Darlene.” Jenny teased, nudging me playfully.

“You two are really keen on setting us up, hm?” I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head. “You know I’m not that keen on dating. Not after…” I trailed off with a frown. It was a sore memory, one that ended with me waking up at the bar with five empty shot glasses and a bill with far more drinks than I’d usually take.

“After Harry.” She sighed, patting my shoulder. “He wasn’t your fault. After all, he did the deed.”

“He doesn’t know what he lost.” Cassie added sympathetically. “The ass.”

“I wanna kick him in the nuts.” Olivia added, making us all raise an eyebrow.

“That’s fair.”

“And on all of our minds.” Jenny grinned.

“I can’t even be mad.” I sighed, then kissed Olivia’s forehead. “Be good, ok? If I get a good report, I’ll make you an ice cream sundae tonight.” As Cassie and Jenny opened their mouths to speak, I held up a finger. “You guys get one too.”

I walked into the sheriff’s department with Jenny, and the first person we saw was Beau Arlen himself. “Well, ain’t it my favourite deputies?” He sauntered over with that charming grin of his, looking between us. “Hoyt.”

“Beau.” Jenny smiled.

“Sheriff.” I chuckled, running my hand through my hair.

“C’mon, Belle, call me Beau.” Beau chuckled, gesturing to himself. “No formalities here.” The statement made me laugh, but I shook my head, looking down at my feet before back up into those twinkly green eyes.

“I’ll try my best, Sheriff.” I teased with a grin, then took a sharp breath in, looking around. “Any cases today?”

“A missing person’s case.” Beau’s expression changed slightly as he mentioned it. “Little girl named Harriet Brown, she was out playing in the front yard, parents were arguin’, when they come out, girl’s gone.”

“My god.” I whispered, then cleared my throat. “We should get on the case, and quick.” I pouted slightly, sucking in air through my teeth. “Any leads? License plate? Footage? Maybe someone who has a grudge?”

“Closest to a match we have as an enemy is the girl’s stepfather, Will Brown. And by parents arguing, I mean the birth father and mother arguin’.”

“Stepfather, what, lays claim to the kid?” I asked, concerned. I knew what that was like all too well (and by that I mean the outskirts of those feelings), and if that was the case…

“Possibly. He’s the only recent frequent visitor.” Beau frowned at the look on my face, tilting his head a little in curiosity. “You look a lil’ green around the gills there, Deputy. You doin’ ok?”

I shared a look with Jenny, who subtly patted my wrist, signalling me to speak up. I jolted out of my thoughts, nodding and putting on a smile that I felt didn’t quite reach my eyes. “‘Course, Sheriff. I’m always ok.”

“You sure?”

“Deadly.”

Beau looked at me for a bit, trying to gauge my reaction, before nodding resignedly and patting me on the shoulder with a small smile. “A’ight. But if anythin’ comes to mind, do tell.”

“Gotcha.” I nodded, my blue eyes looking into his green ones. After I’d met Beau on his first day as acting sheriff, he’d understood me. He knew I was raising Olivia, albeit had never met her, and related to that with his own little girl. Emily was an angel, and I guess I became more of one after he found me getting along well with someone who was his world. As well as that, after the incident with Buck Barnes, I’d managed to find the hostages, including Darlene and Emily, getting them out.

Ever since then, it’s like he treats me as if I’m God’s gift to him. I was just doin’ my job.

I breathed in, then released a deep on through my mouth. “Let’s hit the house, Jen.”

“You got it, Elle.” Jenny smiled. I picked up my jacket, adjusting the photo of my sister and I on my desk as I put it on with a sad smile.

“I miss ya, Lucy. Truly.”

I was in Beau’s truck, the landscape flying by as we made our way to the Brown’s house. The atmosphere was uncomfortably silent - damn the awkwardness of social interactions sometimes - but somehow Beau made coping with silence look easier than it felt. He wore an easy smile, waffling on about fishing with a charmingly boyish look in his eyes that I’d come to recognise and find adorable.

“While I love talking and yapping about fish to the point your ears fall off, Belle, but, uh, don’t you wanna get that?” I was snapped out of my reverie, finding that my ringtone was playing with the name Dean flashing on my screen over the green circle of light representing the button to accept the call, which I’d gladly do.

“Oh! Yeah, that’s right.” My face lit up as I pressed the ‘accept’ button, bringing the phone to my ear. “Dean, hey!”

‘Isa, hi.’ I heard a cheery voice from the other end. This was Olivia’s birth father, Dean Barlowe, who I preferred in spades to Markham Leeds. I never understood why Lucy and Dean had split up in the first place, since Dean was the best father I’d ask for where Liv is concerned. We hadn’t had contact in months, but this was a pleasant surprise. ‘How’ve you been?’

“Oh, now I feel brilliant.” I laughed, looking out the window. “How about you? It’s been goddamn months, I’ve been dyin’ for a call.”

‘Well, I’m feeling great now too. It’s always nice to talk to you. A familiar face.’

“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” I nodded with a happy sigh. “Are you holding up ok? After… Lucy? It’s been a while, but it hit you pretty hard too.”

‘Doing better, if that counts.’ I heard a pause on the other end. ‘Hey, do you think Liv would mind if I pop over for a visit in a week’s time?’

“For her birthday, right?”

‘Yeah. Mark wouldn’t be too mad, right?’

“Who gives a damn about Markham, just come over, ok?” I smiled, and I could practically hear his own relieved one on the other end of the line. “Liv’s gonna love the surprise, don’t you worry.”

‘You know exactly what to say to soothe my nerves, don’t you?’

“Hey, it’s nothin’. Just being a dutiful sister in law.” I saw an exit sign that said we were almost at the house, so I decided to wrap it up. “Hey, uh, Dean, I’m about to start working a case, so I’ll chat later.”

‘Ah, right. Thanks, Isa. Bye.’

“Bye.” I cut the call, and found Beau smirking at me, his eyebrow raised slightly. “What?”

“You seem real chummy with this Dean fella.” He snickered knowingly, but I shook my head rapidly.

“No, no, no. He’s my brother in law.”

“Wait, this is the ex-husband of your late sister?” Beau nodded approvingly. “By the way you’re talkin’ to him, he seems like he’s got his name written in your good books with sparkly gold ink. Unlike Mark.”

“Well, Mark’s an ass.”

“Markham is an ass.”

Beau, Jenny and I were flicking through the security tapes of the Brown house the day their little girl Harriet was kidnapped. “Look, there.” I pointed to the screen, where a man was approaching. “It’s our stepfather.”

“Damn straight.” Beau nodded, leaning forward to ID the guy’s face. “Yep, that’s him. And he just scooped the girl up gave her a lollipop and high-tailed it.”

“We need to get this girl back.” Jenny sighed, her expression pensive as she peered at the screen.

“We got an idea on where she could be taken?”

“Possibly his cabin. Witness accounts show that he’s been buyin’ a lot of bedding, more than you’d need.” I frowned, then stood up. “We need to bust this guy and fast.” I didn’t know exactly why, but this was pissing me off. A stepfather, kidnap his own stepdaughter.

“Let’s bust a crooked stepfather.” Jenny got up, and so did we, heading out the door, running to our cars as Jenny texted me the address, which I put into Beau’s GPS. We quickly got in, and Beau floored it.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.” We got out at the same time as Jenny, making our way across the front yard before I tried the handle of the door, finding it locked. I nodded to Beau, who reared up and kicked the door open, all of us putting up our guns as we stormed the house. Jenny went to check the kitchen and living room, Beau heading upstairs while I took the basement. I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @nancymcl @hobby27

Preview of Chapter Two

#beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen #beau #big sky #cassie dewell #jenny hoyt #beau arlen fanfic

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queen-of-deans-booty · 25 days ago

Text

Baby: Part Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression, wanting to die, being shot

Summary: You're trying to prove to Sam and Dean that after two months of having your soul restored, you're all better. You'll gladly play the part if it means they don't worry about you. However, that facade is slowly being stripped away from you the longer you go without facing up to those feelings. You're not okay and you need to stop pretending like you are.

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

You, Sam, and Dean have a calming and nice lunch before the valet returns with his car. Dean looks inside of it in suspicion but doesn't see anything out of order. Dean takes out the extra cash and tips her.

"Strong work, Jessie. Strong work."

"Thanks."

You three get inside the car and Dean pulls away.

"So, what's next?"

"I want to talk to the sheriff's widow, Lily Markham. Maybe she knows something about why her husband was out in the woods in the first place."

"I'll drop you off. Y/N and I will go back to the woods where they found the body. Something wasn't right about those crime scene photos."

After dropping Sam off, Dean heads into the woods and parks in a clearing next to some run-down cabins. He takes out the file containing the crime scene photos and studies them, and you take out your notebook having more you want to say.

I realized that as the Scarlet Witch, I unlocked new sides to my power. Sides that I could never access as the Sapphire Witch. I was able to pull spells from people's bodies, suck their power for myself. I was able to siphon their power to make myself stronger. As the Sapphire Witch, I know I can connect to people's minds and influence them to a degree. As the Scarlet Witch, I was able to take over their minds completely. No one was a match for me. I was too powerful. I've done things I'm not proud of and I have a lot of making up to do, but I'm writing this journal for one purpose only. If you ever see yourself in this situation, just know you're not alone. I felt alone. I feel alone. I don't want you going through it alone.

You pause and tap the end of your pen on the paper in thought. Dean's phone rings and he answers Castiel's call.

"Cas, are you okay?"

"I'm mostly confused. I'm not sure how orange correlates with black in a way that's new."

You snicker and look away from Dean to hide your smile.

"Step away from Netflix."

"Sorry."

"It's okay. We've all had a binge. Did you find anything in the lore?"

"I did find one that feeds on hearts and blood."

"A were-pyre, you might say? Come on, I know you wanna say it," Dean grins.

"In the lore, it's referred to as a 'Whisper'. Silver will kill it but you may want to decapitate it just to be sure."

"Alright, sounds good. Y/N and I are at the crime scene now. It looks staged. The body was dragged and there were no signs of struggle."

"The body was moved there to look more like an animal attack?"

"Yeah, maybe. It was pretty sloppy. What else can you find on these things?"

"Whispers have a fascinating history, actually."

"Hang on."

You look up and notice the Deputy parking a yard away from Dean. You stay seated while Dean gets out of the car to greet him.

"I'm here, Castiel. What is it?"

"They were once believed to be in the bloodline of werewolves but in fact, they are more similar to demons. They got their nickname from how quiet their attacks are. Because of their stealthiness, they've lived on the fringes for centuries. Although, there were several that were hunted and killed during the Salem Witch... Wait a minute. Okay, according to this, Whispers only feed during the solar eclipse. Y/N, I don't think you're hunting a Whisper."

You look up and see the deputy attack Dean from behind. You curse and leave Castiel on speakerphone while jumping out of the car. You rush at the two men who are wrestling for dominance. The deputy is attacking to kill and Dean is attacking to protect himself. You grab the deputy's collar, yank him off your husband, and toss him on the ground next to the car. He crashes into the open door which causes it to slam shut, and you can barely hear Castiel's voice of concern for the noise.

You take out your gun just as Dean does, and he walks over to the deputy. He grabs your husband and yanks him down, apparently not finished with his attack. You shoot the deputy twice in the chest and once more for good measure. The entire passenger side of Baby is covered with blood.

So much for that wash Dean gave her.

Dean steps over the body and slides back into the car while you stand beside the car.

"Dean? Y/N? Are you both alright? I hear gunshots. Dean! Y/N!"

"It turns out she did shoot the deputy," Dean chuckles.

"Wait, Dean, is everything--"

"The deputy was a were-pyre. It's alright. Silver bullets worked."

"No, Dean, listen. According to the lore, the timing is off. The next solar eclipse in North America is years away. It can't be a--"

Deputy Donnelly springs up and slaps his hand on the bloody window which causes you to scream in shock.

"Hang on," Dean groans.

Dean gets out of the car and goes around to the trunk where he pulls one of his machetes from it. You keep your gun trained on the deputy until Dean quickly slices his head right off. The head topples onto the front of the car and the body crumbles to the ground. You sigh and sit in the passenger seat while Dean leans against the car.

"Scratch that. You gotta cut off their--"

The Deputy's eyes spring open and he growls as if he's still alive. He bares his fangs and you stare right into his eyes. You grab the keys from Dean and put them in so you can turn the windshield wipers on. The head has no choice but to be swept off the car by the motion.

"Dean, it's not a Whisper."

"Yeah, we're starting to get that," you say. Dean points his gun at the body of the deputy and shoots him four more times. Maybe that will do the trick. You think it does until you hear him growling from the other side of the car. "This bitch won't die."

"Alright, that's it."

Dean grabs the empty cooler where the beers were and pours the water and ice onto the ground. He grips the deputy's hair and places him inside the box for safekeeping. He takes his phone, which is still connected to Castiel, and snaps a few photos of the man's fangs.

"Castiel, you still there?"

"Of course. What's going on?"

"Whatever it is, silver slows it down. I'm sending you a picture right now of its fangs. I've never seen anything like it. See if there's a match in the lore, would ya?"

"I'm on it."

Dean hangs up with Castiel and sends the photo to him. He sees there is a missed call from Sam and calls him back right away.

"Dean, I got jumped."

"You okay?"

"For now. I'm pretty sure we're dealing with a pack here. Two of these things were attacking Mrs. Markham when I arrived. I filled them with silver but it only slowed them down."

"Yeah, well, Deputy Dumbass is one of them as well. He's in two pieces and still alive. Where are you now?"

"Mrs. Markham was knocked out. I carried her to the house nearby. I'll text you the address now."

"Sit tight. We're on our way." Dean hangs up the phone. "Everybody's getting jumped."

Dean looks at you as he peels out of the wooded clearing. Mrs. Markham is still knocked out when Dean arrives, and Sam places her in the back with you. She has bruises and cuts on her face, and you wish more than anything that you can heal her of that.

"The door was open when I got to the house. By the time I searched through it, they'd already beaten her unconscious," Sam says.

"Maybe she knew something about what happened to her husband."

"You're saying they tried to take her out while the deputy went back to the scene?"

"Yeah, he went to fix it up and found Y/N and I."

Castiel calls Dean back and he places him on speakerphone.

"Hey, Cas, tell me you got something that doesn't involve chicks in prison."

"It's a Nachzehrer. A ghoul and a vampire-like creature."

"A ghoul-pyre! Right?" Dean grins.

When Sam doesn't react, he rolls his eyes and focuses on the road.

"Some breeds feed on the flesh of the dead. Others feed on the blood and hearts of the living. They run in small packs but they usually keep an extremely low profile."

"How do we kill them?"

"They're already dead. In a manner of speaking, they just need to be reminded that they're dead. You need a Charon's obol."

"Of course." Sam nods. "In ancient Greece, when a person died, some people believed you had to put an obol or a coin in their mouth so they could use it as currency to be taken across the river to the underworld."

"Right. Place a coin in a Nachzehrer's mouth then sever their head, and that will kill them. According to the lore, if you kill the pack's alpha, everyone they've turned will revert back to human form."

"Awesome. Where do we find an obol?"

"According to the Men of Letters' records, you're gonna need a copper coin. They used to use pennies, so you'll need one of those."

"Yeah, but one minted pre-1982. Before 1982, pennies were ninety-five percent copper. Since then, they're only copper-plated zinc," Sam explains.

"Wow. Your nerdiness knows no bounds."

"You're welcome," Sam says.

"Thanks, Cas. Way to come off the bench."

"What bench?"

"Just get back to getting better, okay?" Dean hangs up and Sam reaches into his pocket to see if he has any change, and if there are the pennies he needs if he does. "I got nothing."

"There's a shocker. Who carries pennies these days anyway?"

"Get gas. I can get change there."

Dean pulls up to a gas station and thankfully, the pump hides most of the blood from the public. There's not a lot of people around here anyway but you don't want to stick around when someone calls the police because a car is covered in blood. Sam heads inside the gas station while Dean gets out of the car to put gas in the car. Mrs. Markham gasps awake and looks around until her eyes land on you.

"Where am I?"

"My name is Y/N and he's my husband, Dean. His brother, Sam is inside the--"

"What happened? Where am I?"

"You were attacked by the same people that killed your husband."

"My husband..."

"Do you know something about what happened to him? Maybe that's why these people attacked you?" She doesn't say anything. "Okay. Well, we're gonna take you someplace safe, and then we're gonna kill these sons of bitches."

She looks to the right and sees the container with the head. She gets curious and opens it, only to scream when she sees the Deputy's head. You slam the container shut and chuckle nervously.

"I can explain that. It's a," you can't believe you're saying this, "ghoul-pyre. The point is, it can't hurt you anymore. At least I don't think it... You know what? Let's just get rid of it. Dean!" He opens the back door. "Put this in the trunk, okay?"

"Yeah," he nods, having heard her scream.

"Your family. You do anything for them, don't you?" she asks after a pause.

"Absolutely. No questions asked."

"Yes, you do everything for them. Everything else is meaningless. I did it wrong. Now I've ruined everything."

"This isn't your fault."

"I put my family at risk. They were right to attack me, but I know how to make it right."

Suddenly, Mrs. Markham leaps at you and wraps both hands around your throat. She starts squeezing tightly and you full-blown panic. You slap her hands as you try to fight her off but she won't budge. No matter how hard you try, you can't tap into your magic to fight her. You know if you could, you'd be able to overtake her easily. You reach up and scratch her face, anything to get her to loosen her grip. You dig your thumb into her eye and she screams just as she loosens enough for you to suck in a breath.

"DEAN!"

The back door is yanked open and Dean grabs the collar of the woman. He yanks her out of the car, and you cough violently as the pain spreads from your neck down to the rest of your body. Mrs. Markham punches Dean twice and slams him into the side of the car, and she reaches into his jacket when she sees his gun. She slams the butt of the gun into the side of his head and shoves him into the back seat with you. You gather enough strength to fight back but she points the gun at you and shoots.

Time slows down to a stop and for a moment, you're not sure what was shot if who. Pain explodes from your side and you look down to see blood pouring out from your body. You've been shot. She shot you. Sam hears the shot and looks out the window to see Mrs. Markham behind the wheel. She peels out of the gas station just as Sam runs out of the station with his gun in hand. He shoots the back window which shatters the glass but she is too fast for him

"Where is it?! What did you do with the maker's body?! You're gonna tell me or I will end you!" she screams and points the gun at you.

You look down to see Dean passed out from the blow to his head, and you lean your head back on the seat.

"Forrest where your husband was found," you cry in pain.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst #supernatural series rewrite

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 2 years ago

Text

Angel of God, My Guardian Dear Chapter 1: Matt

Rating: Explicit (18+, MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Story Summary: While speaking at a local school for visually impaired youth, Matt runs into his childhood best friend, with whom he lost touch almost 20 years prior.

Warnings/Tags: No real warnings thus far -- This is going to be a pretty angst-free fic.

Word Count: ~6,300

A/N: Welcome to Angel of God, My Guardian Dear! This started out as a 1-shot and quickly spiraled out of control, as my thirst for Matthew Michael Murdock could not be contained.

For the purpose of this story, Reader is Catholic and grew up at St. Agnes with Matt.

Title is from the Catholic prayer "Angel of God, my guardian dear, to whom God's love commits me here, ever this day be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide, Amen."

"All set to go to Lavelle?"

Matt Murdock turned his head as his friend and business partner, Foggy Nelson, came into his office. "Yeah, just need to finish up here and I'll be on my way."

"It was really cool of them to ask you to come speak," Foggy added.

Matt nodded. "I hope I can help these kids realize that their disabilities don't define who they are and that they can be whoever and whatever they want to be, including lawyers."

Foggy huffed out a laugh. "Or crime-fighting vigilantes?"

Matt grinned. "Well actually, there's probably only room for one blind crime-fighting vigilante in this city, so I probably won't suggest that as a potential career path."

Foggy patted Matt on the shoulder. "You're a great speaker, I'm sure you'll motivate the heck out of those kids. Have a good time, dude."

"Thanks, Fog."

Matt grabbed his briefcase, headed outside, then hailed a cab.

"Alright, where we goin'?" The cabbie asked.

"The Bronx," Matt answered. "Lavelle School for the Blind."

The cabbie tapped on a screen, presumably putting the address into his GPS. "Alrighty, just sit tight and we should be there in about half an hour."

Matt sat back as the cab began to move. Think of it like a jury, Karen had said when Matt had told her and Foggy about the opportunity over a couple of pints at Josie's a few weeks before. Just a younger, way more judgmental jury.

Matt had laughed. Not helping.

You'll do great.

He mentally practiced his speech during the ride and before he knew it, the cab was pulling up in front of the school.

"Thanks," Matt said as he paid the cabbie.

"No problem," the cabbie replied. "Enjoy the rest of your day."

"You too."

Matt headed inside.

Almost immediately, a somewhat familiar voice asked him, "Hi, may I help you?"

Matt turned towards the voice. "Hi, yes, my name is Matthew Murdock. I'm one of the speakers for today?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Murdock, I'm Dr. Bowman, we spoke on the phone."

Matt nodded, now placing the voice. "Right, right."

"We'll be in the meeting hall, which is straight down this corridor. If you'll just come with me…"

Dr. Bowman led Matt down to the meeting hall. "We really appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to speak to our students," she said as they entered.

"It's really not a problem."

"The students and their parents will be starting to arrive in a while, but if you'd like we could have someone escort you around to the exhibitor tables once they're all set up."

"Yeah, maybe."

"We have a Braille program if you'd like one -- it lists all the speakers and exhibitors for today."

"Yeah, I'd love one."

"Okay, one second."

Dr. Bowman stepped away for a minute then returned, handing Matt a booklet printed on Braille paper. "Okay, here you go."

"Thanks." Matt pointed to a nearby table. "Is it okay if I sit over here?"

"Yes, of course. Just let us know if you need anything."

"Will do."

Matt sat at the table and began to read the program. Staff, sponsors, speakers, exhibitors…

He began to read the exhibitor list. American Council for the Blind, representative Ashley Prewitt. VISIONS, representative Clay Markham. NYC Mayor's Office for People with Disabilities, representative Barbara Franklin. Andrew Heiskell Braille and Talking Book Library, representative Y/F/N Y/L/N --

Matt froze and read it again. Could it really be the same Y/N?

Y/N, who at 8 years old had taken 9-year-old Matt, who had just arrived at the orphanage, by the hand and declared that she would be his friend. Y/N, who had giggled when Matt had asked her a few days later if she was an angel and replied, 'no, silly, I'm a girl!' . Y/N, who had been Matt's fiercest protector and had gotten into almost as many fights as Matt himself had. Y/N, who would stroke Matt's hair softly until he fell asleep on the nights when he would sneak into her room because all the stimuli flooding his senses became too overwhelming. Y/N, to whom Matt had taught Braille so they could pass secret notes to each other without anyone else being able to read them. Y/N, who 17-year-old Matt had held while she cried the day they found out that Y/N had been taken in by her long-lost aunt and would be leaving Saint Agnes… and him.

Y/N, his own personal guardian angel, the one person in the world Matt could tell everything to… except the one thing he had wanted to tell her most of all.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

"I don't want you to leave," he admitted quietly as he and Y/N stood at the entrance to St. Agnes.

"I don't want to leave either," Y/N replied. "I wish you could at least come with me."

Matt chuckled wryly. He had overheard one of the nuns talking to Ms. Y/L/N earlier that morning, warning her about 'that Murdock boy' and telling her how it was best for Y/N to be separated from him 'before he gets her into trouble'. "I don't think your aunt would go for that."

"Then can we run away together instead? We could travel the world, just you and me on the epic best friend adventure that we've always dreamed of."

God, Matt wanted to say yes. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y/N by his side, be it as his best friend or -- as he knew deep down in his heart -- something more.

However, Sister Bernadette had been right. Y/N really was an angel sent from on high who deserved all of the goodness in the world, and Matt… Well, Murdock boys had the devil in them.

He shook his head sadly. "Your aunt's waiting. You should go."

Y/N was quiet for a few moments. Finally, she said, "Before I go… I got you something."

She took Matt's hand and dropped a thin, wiry chain into his palm. "I saved up for six months to buy it from the church's gift shop. I was going to give it to you for your birthday, but…" She trailed off. "Anyway, think of me when you wear it, okay?"

Matt picked it up with his other hand. Attached to the chain was a small cross.

He nodded. "I will. Thanks."

"I'll write to you, give you my aunt's address." Y/N pulled him into a tight hug then gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you, Matty."

"I'll miss you too. Goodbye, angel."

Matt waited as half of his heart climbed into a cab and left, the note he had written to her the previous night still in his pocket.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt mentally shook his head. Don't get your hopes up. It may not be her.

…But deep down he knew it had to be.

He stopped someone who was walking by. "Excuse me, can you tell me if the representative from the Heiskell Library is here yet?"

"Umm…" the woman paused as she turned towards the exhibitor tables. "Yeah, actually, it looks like she's talking with Dr. Bowman at the moment."

"Okay, thank you."

"No problem."

As the woman walked away, Matt turned his head so he could listen in on the conversation.

"...So glad you could be here," Dr. Bowman was saying. "We really appreciate you taking time to come out and speak with our students and their parents."

"It's no problem, Dr. Bowman," the other voice replied. "I'm always happy to promote the library's services."

Matt sucked in a breath. It *is* her.

Even after all the years that had passed since he had last spent time with Y/N he had never forgotten the sound of her voice, the times he had sat listening to her read to him still among his favorite memories.

Y/N and Dr. Bowman were wrapping up their conversation, so Matt stood and headed over towards them.

Either Y/N didn't notice that Matt was behind her or Matt had misjudged the distance between them, but Y/N turned around and bumped into him.

"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, sir, I--" Y/N gasped. "Wait, Matty?"

"It's just 'Matt' now, but yeah. Hi, angel." Matt was surprised at how easily his old nickname for Y/N slipped from his lips.

"Oh my God, hi!" Y/N wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "How are you? What are you doing here? Are you a teacher?"

Matt chuckled as he returned her embrace. "I'm well. I don't teach here, I'm actually one of the featured speakers."

"Oh, wow, that's wonderful."

"What about you? How have you been?"

"I'm well too, yeah. Oh my God, this is so crazy. Are you still in New York?"

Matt nodded. "Yeah, still in Hell's Kitchen. You know me, I'm loyal to my city. What about you?"

"Yeah, Florida was okay, but New York is home. I'm actually in Midtown West now, so I'm not far." Y/N paused. "Hey, would you want to maybe grab dinner or a drink or something after this is done, and I dunno, like, catch up? It's totally fine if you can't, I just thought maybe --"

Matt quickly shook his head. "No, no, yeah, I'd love to."

"Great! I'll have to run back by the library to drop all of my stuff off but I can meet you wherever after that."

Matt thought for a moment. "You still like Italian?"

Y/N let out a light laugh. "Of course."

"Then how about Bellissima Italia, over on 9th and 44th? That's near there, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great."

"Will 6:00 work for you? I'll make a reservation."

"That would be perfect. Here, let me give you my number in case something unexpected comes up. It probably won't, but then again, this is New York -- you never know what kind of craziness is going to happen next."

Matt chuckled and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "That's very true."

He created a new contact and typed in Y/N's name, then added her number once Y/N recited it to him.

He hit the button to call her, hanging up after Y/N's phone began to buzz in her pocket. "There, now you have mine."

"Awesome. I have to get to my table, but I'll see you tonight?"

Matt nodded as the doors opened and people began to trickle in. "Yeah, definitely. See you tonight, Y/N."

"Bye, Matt."

Wow, what are the odds? Matt thought as Y/N walked back over to her table.

He pulled his phone back out and headed back into the hallway to make their reservation, then called Foggy.

"Yo, Matt, what's up?" Foggy said in greeting.

"Hey, Foggy, do you remember me telling you about Y/N back when we were in college?"

"Y/N, as in Y/N, your childhood friend from the orphanage who you talked about non-stop and are still hung up on 16 years later Y/N? 'The one that got away' Y/N? That Y/N?"

Matt chuckled. "Yeah, that Y/N. Well, I actually just ran into her. It turns out she's a librarian at the Heiskell Library and is here promoting their library services, so we made plans to have dinner and catch up after this is over."

"Oh, wow, that's actually really awesome, dude. You said she works at the Heiskell Library?"

Matt could hear Foggy sit down at his desk and start typing on his computer keyboard. "Yeah."

After a moment, Foggy said, "Damn it."

"What is it?"

"I knew she was gonna be hot!"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Did you seriously just Google her?"

"I wanted to see what she looks like! You're a hot woman magnet, so of course your old childhood friend is hot. Is she single? Because if you change your mind about her…"

Matt just chuckled. "Not gonna happen. If I even remotely still have a shot with Y/N, I'm taking it."

"Eh, I was just kidding anyway. Good luck tonight, man. Hope she's everything you remember her being and more."

"Thanks, Fog. I'll talk to you later."

"'Kay. Bye, Matt."

Matt hung up and headed back inside, both excited and nervous to catch up with Y/N later that evening.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Matt smoothed down his hair for what seemed like the tenth time as he arrived at the restaurant for his catch-up dinner with Y/N.

He took a deep breath and headed inside.

"Buonasera," the seating host said. "Welcome to Bellissima Italia. How many in your party, sir?"

"Actually, I have a reservation for two at 6, under 'Murdock'," Matt replied.

"Ah, yes, sir. Your companion's already arrived. Right this way."

Matt followed the seating host to where Y/N sat.

"Matt, you made it," Y/N said, standing and giving Matt a hug.

She had changed from the blouse and slacks she had worn earlier into a silk dress that hugged her form, and underneath the subtly floral perfume she wore was her familiar natural scent that had never failed to relax Matt when he was overwhelmed. Even now he could feel his nervous energy starting to calm.

He returned her embrace. "Hi."

"Joseph will be your server tonight," the host said as they sat. "If you need anything let us know."

"Thank you."

Matt folded up his cane and stuck it in his jacket pocket. "I hope you haven't had to wait long."

"No, I just got here a few minutes ago."

Their server walked up to their table. "Good evening, my name is Joseph and I'll be taking care of you. What can I get you to drink?"

"Can I get a glass of Pinot Grigio and a water?" Y/N said.

"Certainly, ma'am. And for you, sir?"

"I'll take a glass of Merlot and a water as well, thanks."

"Okay, certainly. I'll get that taken care of for you while you get a chance to look over the menu."

"Do you know what you want, or do you want me to read the menu to you?" Y/N asked as Joseph left.

"Actually if you don't mind telling me what's on the menu I'd really appreciate it," Matt replied. "I didn't get a chance to check it out before I came."

"No, it's not a problem at all." Y/N picked up her menu. "Let's see…"

Matt listened intently as Y/N quickly read the menu off to him. He nodded. "Okay, thanks. I think I know what I want."

A few moments later Joseph returned with their drinks. "Okay, here you are. And are we ready to order?"

Matt nodded. "I'm ready. Y/N, you want to go ahead?"

"Yes, I'd like the gnocchi in cream sauce, please," Y/N said.

"Okay, and for you, sir?"

"I'll take the chicken parmigiana, thanks." Matt picked up his menu and handed it to Joseph.

"Okay, I'll put those in for you right away."

"Wow, I still can't believe this," Y/N said as Joseph left once again. "It's been, what, almost 20 years?"

Matt nodded with a grin. "Yeah, something like that. And even after all this time, you still look exactly the same."

Y/N laughed. "I'm glad to know that you haven't lost your sense of humor."

She took a sip of water. "So, catch me up on the past 20 years."

Matt shrugged. "Not much to tell. Left St. Agnes at 18, went to Columbia and got a law degree, opened my own practice with my college roommate, and that's about it." Except for the fact that I also became a crime-fighting vigilante, sent a mob boss to jail, and took down a secret organization of ninjas.

"Not married, no kids?"

Matt shook his head. "No, never found the right person." Because I already had found her but was too much of a coward to tell her how I felt before she left. "What about you? What have you been up to?"

"Finished high school in Florida, got my bachelor's degree in sociology, did my MLIS, and became a librarian. Did five years as a special services librarian in Florida, two in Indiana, then I managed to get on with the Heiskell Library and have been there ever since."

"No marriage or kids for you either?"

"No kids, almost got married once but it didn't work out. Wasn't anyone's fault, we just weren't right for each other."

Matt nodded. "How's your aunt?"

"Oh, she's fine. She's still in Florida so I talk to her every few days. Wait till I tell her I ran into you."

Matt gave a wry smile. "I dunno if she'll be happy about that. She didn't like me."

"What do you mean she didn't like you? She didn't even know you."

"She didn't have to. She had heard enough about me from Sister Bernadette to form an opinion."

"Ugh. Sister Bernadette. She did always seem to have it out for you."

Matt shrugged. "Well, in all fairness, I was kind of a troublemaker."

Y//N laughed. "Yeah, but I was usually right there with you in whatever trouble you were making, if not starting the trouble myself."

Matt grinned and took a sip of his wine. "You mean like the time we stole that bottle of Communion wine out of the church storeroom?"

Y/N laughed. "You know, that was the first thing I mentioned during confession after I started going to church in Florida. Seal of Confession or not, I wasn't about to confess to Father Reynolds about it."

Matt grinned. "Afraid of a harsher penance?"

"Yes! It was bad enough having to say five Acts of Contrition and three Our Fathers that time I punched Bobby Neyland in the face for tripping you in the hall. I had already gotten detention and I had to apologize to him, what more did they want?"

They were interrupted by Joseph bringing their dinners. "Alrighty, we have the gnocchi over here, and the chicken parmigiana here. Careful, those plates are hot. Is there anything else I can get you two?"

"No, I think we're fine," Y/N replied. "Matt?"

Matt shook his head. "We're good for now."

"Okay, let me know if you need anything else."

"Will do."

"Anyway," Y/N said, "we weren't always getting into trouble. Most of the time we were perfect little angels."

Matt chuckled. "I think your memory is faulty. You may have been an angel, but I certainly wasn't."

"We did have some good times together though, didn't we, Matty?"

Matt nodded, the quiet times he got to spend with Y/N floating through his mind. "Yeah, we certainly did."

The conversation continued to flow easily as Matt and Y/N reminisced about their childhood, and the next thing Matt knew dinner was over.

"Will that be one check or two?" Joseph asked as he cleared their plates.

"Just the one check, thanks," Matt said, handing Joseph his credit card before Y/N could protest.

"Next time, I'm paying," Y/N replied as Joseph went to go take care of the bill.

Matt grinned, thrilled that Y/N had even mentioned a 'next time'. "Deal."

He signed the check once Joseph returned for the last time, then unfolded his cane as he and Y/N stood. "May I walk you home?"

He could almost hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she replied. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."

Matt extended his arm. "Then shall we?"

They left the restaurant together, the ease and familiarity they once shared still there.

"So, what made you decide to become a librarian?" Matt asked as they headed towards Y/N's apartment building. "Last I knew you wanted to go out and save the world by becoming a big-time CEO of a Fortune 500 company."

Y/N huffed out a laugh. "Um, well, actually, it was you."

Matt's eyebrows raised. "Me?"

"Yeah. When it was time to start thinking about college I spoke to my guidance counselor and told her about how my best friend was visually impaired and how I'd sit and read print books to him because there weren't any Braille or audiobooks in the orphanage where we grew up, and so she told me about how there were actually special library services for people with visual impairments and that maybe I should look into special services librarianship since I seemed called to that."

"And do you like it?"

"Yeah, more than anything. Like a lot of people might think that being a librarian is boring or an obsolete job, but you should talk to some of my patrons, Matt. They're all alone with no family or friends nearby, so listening to these audiobooks are the only things that they have to do all day. It's actually kind of heartbreaking."

Matt nodded with a soft smile. Y/N really was an angel.

"And I know I'm not like, saving lives or changing the world or anything," Y/N continued, "like by being a doctor or by helping innocent people who've been wrongfully accused of crimes like you and your partner, but I feel like I'm at least helping people in my own way, you know?"

Matt turned towards Y/N as they stopped at a crosswalk. "You think you haven't saved lives? 'Angel' wasn't just a nickname, sweetheart. You befriended a lonely, scared, angry little boy with absolutely zero fucks given as to what anyone else thought, and to this day I'm still so damn grateful for whatever made you see me and decide, 'Yes, that one. I want him as my best friend'."

Y/N let out a watery laugh. "Honestly, it wasn't a tough decision. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be way cooler than everyone else."

Matt smiled softly. "You were my guardian angel, Y/N. I certainly wouldn't have made it without you."

He reached up and gently swiped his thumbs under her eyes, wiping away the tears that had collected there. "You okay?"

Y/N nodded. "Yeah."

Matt slipped his hand into Y/N's and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

They continued on their way to Y/N's apartment, Y/N seemingly as reluctant to let go of Matt's hand as he was to let go of hers.

"What about you?" Y/N asked. "What drew you to law?"

"I want to fight injustice and keep Hell's Kitchen safe, protect the people I care about," Matt said simply. "Going through the legal system seemed the best way to do that at the time."

"And now?"

"What?"

"You said 'at the time'. What's the best way now?"

Being Daredevil, Matt wanted to say. Protecting those I can't protect through the law.

He shook his head. "I just know that everything's not as black-and-white with the legal system as I once thought."

"Yeah, I get that." Y/N slowed down as they reached her apartment building. "This is me."

Matt nodded. "I'm really glad we found each other again."

"I am too -- I've missed you so much, Matt. I tried to write to you after I moved but all of my letters came back 'return to sender'. Eventually I realized that they were returning my letters, but by that time it was too late, and it's not like I could just call up Sister Bernadette and ask for your forwarding address."

Matt shook his head. "I knew it. I knew something weird was going on. I could tell she was lying whenever I asked her if I had any mail from you."

"I still have them."

"The letters you wrote me?"

"Yeah, they're in a box in my closet."

"Can I read them?"

"Yeah, sure. You want me to go get them or do you want to come up for a drink and we can read them together?"

Matt nodded. "A drink would be nice." More time I can spend with you.

"Okay, then. Come on in."

Y/N led Matt through the lobby to the elevator and up to her apartment. "Make yourself at home," she said as she unlocked her door. "Living room is straight ahead, just mind the coffee table when you go around the couch to sit."

Matt sat while Y/N moved around her kitchen. "What's your preference?" Y/N asked. "I have wine, hard cider, amaretto, whiskey, rum…"

"Whiskey is fine. On the rocks."

He could hear Y/N adding ice to a couple of glasses then opening a couple of bottles, then smelled the scent of sweet & sour mix. "Let me guess. Amaretto sour for yourself?"

Y/N paused in her pouring. "How'd you know?"

"I can hear the difference in the shape of the bottles, and I can smell the sweet & sour."

"You're good." Y/N closed the bottles and put the sweet & sour mix back in her refrigerator.

She handed Matt his glass before setting hers down on the coffee table. "Here you go. Give me just a second, I'll go grab the letters."

Matt took a sip of his whiskey as Y/N retreated to her bedroom.

She returned momentarily with a box. "Ok so remember, I was 16 when I started writing these, so don't judge me if they're cringy."

Matt chuckled. "I won't, I promise."

Y/N opened the box and handed him a manila envelope. "Here, start with this one. I'm pretty sure they're still in the order I wrote them."

Matt opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of Braille paper. "Can you still read Braille?" he asked.

"Yep, can still write in it too, although Braille printers make everything a lot easier these days."

Matt set the piece of paper on the coffee table and began to read aloud.

"September 30, 2002

Dear Matty,

Just got settled in at Aunt Ruth's house. My bedroom here is as big as both of ours at St. Agnes combined.

Hoping I can convince Aunt Ruth to let you come visit soon, maybe during Thanksgiving?

By the way, my address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190.

Hope to hear from you soon,

Y/N"

Y/N snorted. "Yeah, 'I'm sure you'll be able to get away from the orphanage for a week or so to come hang out with your bestie in Florida!' Man, was I naive."

Matt shook his head. "You didn't know. Neither of us could've known that they'd actually try to keep us apart."

Y/N picked up the next envelope. "Here, I'll read the next one."

Matt nodded. "Okay."

"October 21, 2002," Y/N began.

Dear Matty,

I must've done something wrong with the postage on my first letter, because it came back marked return to sender. Adding double to make sure this gets to you.

Aunt Ruth wants me to join some after-school clubs, make some new friends. I don't want *new* friends, though. I just want you.

Speaking of making new friends, you know that song 'make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold'? Well, it's not true. You're way more precious to me than gold. You're more like… I don't know, the rarest and most precious substance on earth, whatever that may be.

Anyway, address is 4685 Sandpiper Blvd., Miami, FL 33190. Write me back!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt picked up the next envelope. "November 12, 2002.

Dear Matty,

Another letter came back return to sender. Don't quite know what I'm doing wrong, but hopefully this one reaches you!

School has been okay. Don't think I told you yet, but Aunt Ruth enrolled me in some fancy all-girls Catholic school. I'm really enjoying English class. We're reading The Crucible. Maybe next time we're together I'll read it to you. Think you'd like it.

Anyway, hope you're doing okay. I miss you.

Always,

Y/N"

Y/N laughed. "You know, my offer to read The Crucible to you still stands."

Matt grinned. "In that case I might have to take you up on it. You're still my favorite audiobook narrator."

He could hear the smile in Y/N's voice as she began to read her next letter.

"January 10th, 2003.

Dear Matty (or is it just Matt now that you're the big 1-8?),

Happy birthday! I wish I could be there with you to celebrate. I wanted to surprise you and come visit, but Aunt Ruth said no. (Party pooper.)

I hope your day is amazing and that you get everything you wish for, because you deserve it! *Heart*

Miss you like crazy and I really hope to hear from you soon!

Always,

Y/N"

Matt shrugged. "My 18th birthday was fine, nothing overly special." I didn't get my wish, but now I know why.

He cleared his throat. "April 6, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I don't know if I did something wrong before I left and you're mad at me or if I'm just that inept at mailing a letter, but I just got a bunch of letters back unopened again. I really hope it's the latter because if it's the first, I don't know what I did but whatever it is, I'm sorry. Just please talk to me. I want my best friend back.

Y/N"

Matt's heart broke. Damn them. Damn them all to Hell for making Y/N think she could ever do something to make me not want her in my life.

He finished his glass of whiskey before picking up the next letter.

"Want a refill?" Y/N asked.

Matt nodded. "Sure."

Y/N stood and went to make them each another drink while Matt read the next letter aloud.

"September 3, 2003

Dear Matt,

I don't even know why I'm still trying. You're 18 now, I'm sure you're not even at St. Agnes anymore. You're probably off to college and have made fancy new college friends, so even if this letter somehow reached you you probably wouldn't respond anyway, but I wanted to tell you goodbye anyway and to wish you good luck.

Y/N"

Matt's brow furrowed. "But there's more letters."

"Yeah." Y/N sounded hesitant as she set Matt's drink down on the table. "I never sent any of the rest though."

She picked up the next one. "December 9, 2003.

Dear Matt,

I'm sitting here in English class (well, not now since I'm writing this in Braille instead of standard print) and our bell assignment today was to write a letter to someone who is no longer in our lives. I'm sure the point is probably to write to someone who's dead, but whatever, I'll write to whomever the hell I want.

Aunt Ruth finally told me the truth: that St. Agnes had been returning your letters to me before you even got them. Needless to say, I'm furious. I don't understand why they would go to such lengths to keep us apart, or why Aunt Ruth would even agree to it.

I hope you don't think I never tried to get in touch with you, because the thought of you believing that I would just abandon you like that tears me up inside.

I miss you, Matt, and I hope you're doing well.

Y/N"

Matt shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N. I hate that you ever even had to think that I would ignore your letters."

Y/N reached over and gave his hand a squeeze. "It wasn't your fault."

They continued reading, Y/N telling him about getting into college, the classes she was taking each semester, graduation, getting into grad school and getting her library science degree, her first job as an official librarian…

Y/N took a sip of her cocktail before starting the next letter.

"March 8, 2012

Dear Matt,

I've met someone . His name is Alex and he works in the I.T. department of the library. I think you two would get along -- you're a lot alike.

We've been dating for a few months now and things are going pretty well. I'll keep you posted as to where things lead.

Y/N"

Matt picked up the second-to-last letter.

"January 13, 2013

Dear Matt,

Alex proposed, and I said yes. We're planning a fall wedding -- nothing big, just close family and friends.

I wish you could be there. I thought about asking Alex if he could look you up on the internet to see if he could find an address for you. Could you imagine? We haven't been in contact in over 10 years and suddenly you get an invitation to my wedding.

Crazy, right?

Y/N"

Even though Matt knew that things didn't work out between Y/N and her ex-fiancé, his stomach was still in knots as Y/N began to read her final letter.

"June 29, 2013

Dear Matt,

I ended my engagement with Alex today. We were touring wedding venues over the weekend but none of them felt right, and I realized this morning that it wasn't the venues that felt wrong, it was me.

You see, I can't marry Alex, not when-- " Y/N paused and took a deep breath. "Not when I've been in love with you for most of my life."

Matt's brain screeched to a halt. What did she just say?

"God, I'm so pathetic," Y/N continued, "pining over someone to whom I haven't even spoken in years. It's not fair to Alex to marry someone who's in love with another man and it's not fair to myself to keep holding on to something that I can never have.

I guess I've kept writing to you in order to somehow hold on to you and to feel like we were still teenagers writing secret notes to each other, like maybe one day I'd have the courage to finally tell you how I feel.

I'll always love you, Matt, but maybe it's time for me to finally let you go.

Y/N"

Matt turned towards Y/N, who had picked up her drink and was currently draining it. "You were in love with me?"

Y/N remained silent, but the uptick in her heartbeat gave Matt hope.

He took her glass from her and set it down on the table before taking her hand in his. "Y/N? Please, angel, talk to me."

Y/N took a deep breath. "I still am, Matt. I still love you. I never stopped."

Oh, thank God. "I love you too," Matt murmured. "I've loved you probably since the moment I met you, it just took me a few years to figure out what it was I was feeling."

He pulled out the cross Y/N had given him out from under his shirt. "I've always kept you close to my heart, Y/N."

Y/N reached out and placed her hand on his chest, warming the metal cross pressing against Matt's shirt. "I was wondering if you still had that."

Matt nodded. "I've rarely taken it off in the past 20 years."

He paused. "I was going to tell you I loved you the day you left for Florida. I had written you a note telling you how I felt."

"Why didn't you give it to me?"

"Right before I was going to I overheard Sister Bernadette talking to your aunt about how it was best to separate us so I wouldn't ruin your life, and I realized it definitely wasn't fair for me to tell you I loved you right before you moved a thousand miles away."

"What the hell? How would you have ruined my life?"

Matt huffed out a laugh. "Well, let's see, the exact phrasing she used was 'before he gets her into trouble'."

"Before you 'got me into trouble'? Wait, did she -- did she think we were sleeping together ?" Y/N sounded both horrified and amused.

Matt shrugged. "Well, she wouldn't have technically been wrong."

"Well no, but all we ever did was literally sleep together!"

"Maybe, but it's not like I never thought about doing the other kind of sleeping together with you."

Y/N gave a playfully scandalized gasp. "Why, Matthew, I certainly hope you went to confession for that."

"More than once." Matt chuckled. "I mean, I was a hormonal teenage boy who was hopelessly in love with my best friend, of course my thoughts drifted there from time to time."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. "I wonder if maybe someone saw you sneaking out of my room one morning and reported us, and that's why Sister Bernadette thought something was going on. She could've confronted us though instead of just shipping me off and keeping us apart for almost 20 years. So much wasted time, and over what was probably a complete misunderstanding."

Matt shook his head. "Angel?"

"Yeah, Matty?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

Y/N sucked in a breath. "Uh huh, yeah, okay."

Matt reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, then -- after over 20 years of longing -- gently pressed his lips to hers.

He leaned back, a smile spreading on his face as he caressed the matching smile on Y/N's with his thumb. "So, how about dinner again tomorrow night?"

Y/N hummed. "What, you don't want to lose touch for another 20 years and hope we randomly run into each other again?"

Matt shook his head with a laugh at Y/N's teasing tone. "No way, angel. I spent almost 20 years without you, so now that I've got you back in my life I'm not letting go."

#lotmf writes #AoG Masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x yn

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meeville · 13 days ago

Text

Onyx Storm live reactions

Okay so this is something I did while reading IF for the first time.

I listen to the books as audiobooks the first time through because of several reasons: I live in canada and I preorder through !ndigo, So my books don’t get shipped until the release date and I don’t get my books until at least a week later because they get shipped from Ontario and I live not close to there. And with audio books I can get them on audible for a credit and it will be there on the release date. I also started reading the series as an audiobook and I’m going to finish it as one. And the final reason: I can open my notes app as I’m listening and put my initial thoughts down immediately without having to stop reading to do so. So without further adieux, my live reactions to Onyx Storm as I thought them and sans context; read at your own spoilery risk. Most will be out of context but that doesn’t mean there won’t be spoilers.

“I’ve decided you can all go fuck yourselves” -vi

I’m in confusion

Give me answers Rebecca!!!!!!!

Oh your such a leader Vi lol stop doubting yourself I was so right about the leader of the people thing.

Cat so civil now it’s weird

Oooo first six lore interesting…

“Good times”- Ridoc lol

Quiet time Tairn

Poof and just like that Lola s gone

Ridoc and Xaden are a duo I didn’t know I needed lol.

“I’m afraid our daughter has atrocious taste in men” -Lilith lmao this is too funny

The Xaden effect lol

Ooo task force

Grady oooooo nooooooo

Welp cassy’s gonna be happy

Love ❤️

Awww Brennan

Ooooo jealous Imogen this is good

Eeeeee Felix gave her a new conduit

What’s this thing Mira made

Sib fight!!!!

Silver hair mentioned!!!!!!🦅🦅🦅🦅🦅

There is so much politics and I’m so confused

Ridoc what’s it like to support the entire book on your humor

second wing’s assholery

Fuck yeah Aaric

Way to go Dain

Are you ever done Ridoc?

Come onnnn Violet come on

Nepobaby Aetos

Yessssssssss leader of the people!!!!!!

Ridoc never stop being you.

Devera, Emetterio and Kaori to the rescue

Running the gauntlet just for fun.

Awww Cat

Ridoc please

I state this now: Rhi and Ridoc are the best duo

Halden watch!!!!

Oooo I smell tension

O yes o yes ohohohoh

I know what’s coming

Aaric stays with his squad!!!!

Andarna hunting in the kings forest just for fun lol

I’m very confused

Poor Garrick

Ooofff

Fucking Ridoc

Quest squad!!!!!

Dyre omg I thought you was gone bro!!!

I figured it out ooooooo I know what they need sawyer for yes yes yesyesyesyes this is cool I like this plan tehehehe.

Ohhhh yessssssssssssss

Bodhi awwww

Both of them???

Lilith man I’ll start to cry bro

Oh Cat

Lol Devera is a hoot

FUCK AETOS SR

Well ship

People’s fucking leader

GENERAL??????

No Fucking way fuck him

Ohohoh Violet you’re smart. Very smart

O I like the queen.

Brennan!!!!!!!

Oh no well fuck.

Ffg called it.

Samara? Noononnnnononoooo well motherfucker

I think I already trust the commander of samara after one sentence. But he’s giving depression

That dream was horrific

Good choices were made

I too have eyes—Tairn lol

Oooo violence

A “fuck yes” from Tairn is very good

Aotrom!!!!!!

Not

Garrick?????

TAIRN!!!!!! Tairn tairn nononononon

Tairn

Oh oh oh

He’s okay

Oh my god

I’ll kick you in the face lol

You’re not kicking anyone lol

I fucking love Garrick

I think this is why RY does too.

They went through a fucking tornado

He’s a distance weilder isn’t he

Yesss vi

Wtf is an irred

How does Garrick have a second signet

‘My my’ lol

In front of the duke bro

I would not want to be you…—Brennan

Ooooooo we got another ‘well the fuck aware’

Ridoc is a man after my heart

Brennan Sorengail

You and me both Ridoc

Maybe I don’t like Grady

Yesss Imogen you badass

Aetos might be a sage

I also don’t think Jack is lying

And he’s still evil

At least jasinia will be on quest squad I think

Oh Sawyer

Oh that was a hint to my theories haza

Don’t encourage her- tairn

FUCK MARKHAM

2nd krovlen uprising mentioned!!!!!!!

Papa sorengail’s research

Oooohohohooooo

The babysitter program

Wow this task force is stupid

And they are sooooo going to fail

Ridoc N Xaden are so weird as a duo

Trayger and Cat???? Oooo I like this

Asher? Whom the fuck is Asher

OMG it her father

Ohhhh she so totally dated Halden

Also your a clown Ridoc

Imogen is smitten ooooooo

Ridoc those are inside thoughts bro

It’s fucking Halden

I called it he was in the infantry

Omg they were twins that makes so much sense

Alic and Halden were twins

Oooooo he cheated drama

Gem watch!!!!

First love is the dragon

Yeahhhh I really don’t trust quest squad

Ooops

Welp there goes Grady

Bye bye 👋

Bye bye Auryn

Character development for Ridoc !!!!!!!

Badassery for Ridoc

More development for Ridoc

Yesss Mira

I think I like tecarus

Ridoc’s humour is load bearing guys

Dealing in dragons

Tairn’s form of funny is scary

Cortland is direct

Well that’s grafic

Muther fucking leader of the people

Sassy andarna is so fucking funny

Oh is there something between Sloane and Dain????

Now that’s funny Mira

Sorengail lore!!!!!

They have the same hair

Momma riorson was on the isles

Betrayal Thalia

Ohohoh sneaky

Ridoc stop getting immpailed man

“I hate SEWING!!!!!!”— Ridoc

My least favourite îles too Garrick

Violet your so fucking clever

Asher Daxton I fucking knew it

This island has magic and is weird

Poor Trayger

Are they accidentally going to discover the irreds lol

They named the kitten Brocoli lol

Garrick your too sweet bro I knew I loved you

Okay so Ridoc and Aotrom match each other’s freak

Aww their so cute

Oh I was so right

Irrids

Haza

These dragons are rude.

And different

Tairn protecting Ridoc is so cute

I don’t like the irrids

There is no cure

No nononononon

Nonononononoooooooooooooooooo

Not Ridoc

I liked the queen.

Ohhh Ridoc

Dream-walking that’s interesting

Tairn nooooooo

Ohhhh Andarna don’t please

Noooooooonononononooooo

Awwww Tairn

Noooooooo

MIRAAAAA!!!!!! Fuck WTF WTF WTF

I thank fuck

We get a Rhi chapter?!!???!!

I like glane

Quinn nooooooooooo

Nonononononono

Why the fuck

Not Quinn

I think that was worse than Liam for me

Aaric is a precog that’s incredible

Fucking panchek

Traitor

IMOGEN WTF HAVE YOU DONE

MARRIED??? Really?

Oh I’m missing something and I don’t like it. Also where is Garrick.

#onyx storm #onyx storm spoilers #rebecca yarros #fourth wing #andarna #iron flame #tairn #violet sorrengail #xaden riorson #tairneanach #violence sorrengail #garrick tavis #bodhi durran #imogen cardulo #rhiannon matthias

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paisholotus · 1 month ago

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Now Playing: Everyday~ Asap Rocky

Narrative

Miami, Florida

Ashia was sitting down at the table in the police station. Her mind was running a thousand miles per minute, she didn't know what these people wanted. Well, she knew they wanted Brian but for what though?

Not, even ten minutes later Brian walks into the room. He looks at Ashia with concern and raking his eyes over her body checking to see if she was harmed. She smiled at him and nodded that she was okay. Brian looks at the officers and began pleading, "let her go. She don't got nothing to do with this."

One of the officers scoffed and said, "No. Maybe we would if she wasn't aiding and abetting a criminal." Ashia glared at the officer and looked at the other one.

"What do y'all want? Because y'all done came up to my job, and I don't like that. Because my reputation as a teacher and as a person in my community can't be tampered with." She said sternly.

"I'm Agent Markham. And, Brian is an ex police officer that was gonna soon be in the FBI. But, he blew his cover because he fell for a fugitive's sister letting said fugitive go free." He said.

Now, Ashia knew he was a runaway cop he told her that. But, him letting a fugitive go because he was in love with a girl wasn't something he told. To some it shouldn't matter but to her it does. Because did he still love her? What was the reason to not tell her that little part? Was it because that part wasn't so little? Was he lying this whole time about loving her? Her brain ran in circles as she glared at Brian.

Brian looked at her with his eyes welling up he spoke with his voice cracking, "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you the real reason I was in Miami. Please don't be mad." He begged.

Ashia scoffed and looked away from him. 'Don't be mad' how could she not be upset when he's been hiding this from her this whole time. And, it makes her think what else has he been hiding?

"The reason you two are here is because we have a proposition for you." He explained that this man by the name of Carter Verone a drug lord that's setting up cartels around Miami. They have a undercover cop with Verone but they fear she might be failing the case. Apparently they needed good drivers to help put Verone in prison, and that's where Brian and Ashia came in.

They took Brian and Ashia to another room and showed them the partner that they wanted them to work with. And, he didn't look the part at all. People would be able to see this nark a mile away.

"See, c'mon man. I can't do this. I mean if this the partner you're gonna give me, I might as well take my chances in Chino." Brian laughed.

But, Ashia didn't find anything about this situation funny. The gears in her head was turning fast. She loved Brian she truly did. But, was loving him worth putting herself and her family in danger. She felt like a dark cloud was floating over her head. Brian has already lied to her. So, who knows what else he has lied about.

"The only way I am going to do this, is if I get to pick the driver." Brian said, sitting back down beside Ashia.

"Alright, O'conner, who'd you have in mind?" Bilkins asked.

"This dude I grew up with in Barstow." He said. There's only one person he could be talking about Ashia thought. ROMAN PEARCE.

Bilkins told Brian and Ashia they wanted them ready at 8am tomorrow. Brian stood up and reached for Ashia's hand but she snatched it away.

Ashia speed walked out the police station where she saw her sister leaning on her car waiting for her. Tirana got into Ashia's car, into the drivers side, because Ashia was too emotionally distraught to drive.

"Shia, can you please talk to me." Brian begged as Ashia got into the car and closed the door. Brian couldn't do anything as he stood there helplessly looking at her through the window.

They drove off in the car as Brian felt his heart and world crumble.

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stenoodie · 1 month ago

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Too Good to Go Surprise Bags in December 2024

Too Good to Go Surprise Bags in December 2024. #lotsofsurprises #neworleanschicken #finallygotthesoupbag #pattiesfordays #funsurprisebags

18 surprise bags purchased in December 2024 Use the Too Good To Go app to rescue unsold food from going to waste! Participating restaurants and stores will put together “surprise bags” for one third of the retail price and customers purchase it on the app and then go to pick it up in store. It’s a fun way to explore new restaurants and stores around you while saving food from being wasted and…

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#Aitaiker Taiwanese Fried Chicken surprise bag #Aitaiker Taiwanese Fried Chicken too good to go #Allan&039;s Pastry Shop surprise bag #Allan&039;s Pastry Shop too good to go #Baker Duck surprise bag #Baker Duck too good to go #Baker Duck Woodside Square surprise bag #Baker Duck Woodside Square too good to go #BB Bakery Newmarket surprise bag #BB Bakery too good to go #Brindleberry Catering & Events surprise bag #Brindleberry Catering & Events Too good to go #Edible Arrangements fruit cutout bag #Edible Arrangements too good to go #Healthy Planet mixed surprise bag #Healthy Planet too good to go #longo&039;s prepared foods too good to go #Olly Fresco&039;s surprise bags #Olly Fresco&039;s too good to go #Paeez Fine Foods hot table surprise bag #Paeez Fine Foods too good to go #Pinoy Halo Halo surprise bag #Pinoy Halo Halo too good to go #Souperlicious soup surprise bag #Souperlicious too good to go #Sweet Palette Markham surprise bag #Sweet Palette too good to go #Taiga Ichiban surprise bag #Taiga Ichiban too good to go #Too Good to Go surprise bags across Markham and GTA

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queen-scribbles · 9 days ago

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For the Rook asks!! 🌾, 🌱, and 🌹

Charlize Thorne

🌾 If there was a demon trying to trap/take over Rook, what kind would be the most successful? What would break their hold?

...what would be a perversion of Duty? Obstinance? I feel like that or a perversion of Compassion would have the best luck getting in her head and taking control or manipulating her.

🌱 Was Rook involved romantically with anyone before Veilguard? What was their partner like? How did the relationship end?

Yes and no? When she was in her early thirties, she was stationed in a Warden outpost near a small town in the Anderfels. She struck up a friendship with the grocer, Jakob, who supplied most of the food for the outpost. He was a widower, and he and his son would make deliveries every week. Charlize struck up conversation one day while helping him unload, and a friendship grew out of that on subsequent visits. She would occasionally find her way into town, either on patrol, delivering their order for the week, or just "stretching her legs", and talked to him more at his shop. There was, eventually, a definite undercurrent of attraction on both sides, and Mattias(the son) absolutely loved her. Jakob was witty, kind, a good father, honorable and fair, very good guy all around. But even being pretty sure he liked her back(and he did, very much), Charlize was reluctant to say anything bc she's a Grey Warden. Even if she doesn't get reassigned, there's the Calling, if not an even earlier death in battle, and she didn't want to do that to him. Since she never said anything, Jakob never did either, so they wound up doing this incredibly UST-laden dance for a few years.

It ended when a darkspawn force moved through the area; Charlize and a few others broke orders to stay in the fort in case of a fight to get in position to protect the town in case any 'spawn split off from the main horde. Which they did. The attack was repelled successfully, but two of the other Wardens died, Charlize got reassigned to Jader, and Jakob decided it was too dangerous to have a young child in this area, so he moved to Markham. So while there was someone she was romantically interested in, nothing happened.

🌹 What’s the first genuine fight Rook got in with their love interest about? How was it resolved?

Charlize is gonna romance Emmrich(and I might be proud of being on the Emmrich/Warden Rook train before it was a Thing xD). I feel like, from what I've heard about his character and romance, their first big fight--if they have one--will be about her feeling smothered by how much he worries about her//him thinking she's too reckless, bc that's the way she's learned to live as a Warden. You have to blend risk-taking and caution and inevitably every individual Warden has their own balance. She tips more on big-risk, big-reward, prioritizing protection of civilians. It would get resolved by a (maybe slightly heated) conversation about her being used to protecting people like this and it being part of a Warden's life vs Emmrich reminding her she has someone who will miss her if/when she dies, please delay that as long as possible, darling. And coming to some kind of compromise, but she's been a Warden 20+ years, she's not going to change her style overnight.

Rook Asks

#rook asks #charlize thorne

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dudeshusband · 1 year ago

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Ship: Mike x Joe Ricco

Words: 900

Description: Mike brings Ricco lunch at work.

Warnings: none!

Joe would be in his office at lunchtime. Mike had made sure of that. Ever since they'd been going out, they wanted to bring him a homemade lunch. They'd prepped some cilantro lime salad and sandwiches the night before so they could easily come to his law building from their job at the paper.

They walked into his office and were greeted by Jamison, his secretary. They'd heard quite a bit about her but had never met her.

Jamison was a woman about Mike's age, maybe slightly younger. She had short brown hair that was parted in the middle and surrounded her head, a bit like a long pageboy. She smiled professionally as Mike approached.

“Hello, miss,” she said, which stung a little. “It's Mr. Ricco’s lunch hour but I can make you an appointment.”

Mike lifted the bag they were holding. “That's exactly what I'm here for.”

Jamison eyed Mike's flared slacks and furrowed her eyebrows. “You don't look like a delivery boy.”

Mike chuckled. “No, I write the political commentary section of The Chronicle. Occasionally I publish short stories. I've been in a few publications. I'm hoping for The Atlantic next.”

“Ambitious,” Jamison said. “So then-” A lightbulb went on in her head. “You're the person he's dating? You're Mike?”

“Yep! That's me. Nice to meet you.”

“How old are you?” she asked.

Mike sighed. “Why does everyone ask that? I finished my English doctorate three years ago.”

“You're my age?” she asked, then cringed. “Ricco’s old. He's probably my dad’s age.”

“If we're done judging me, I'm going to have lunch with my boyfriend.”

Mike attempted to walk past but Jamison stopped them.

“Oh, I'm not judging! I'm just surprised,” Jamison said. “It's good to see him happy. He's been alone as long as I've worked for him. Maybe he'll stay out of my love life now and stop being such a busybody.”

Mike chuckled. “He told me he was trying to get you a boyfriend. Any success?”

“Maybe,” she said, stressing the y. “He was right about Markham anyway.”

“What's up with old Italians and the matchmaking?” Mike joked. “We were set up by Nino and Angela. They'd been setting him up on a bunch of dates he didn't want.”

“What a hypocrite!” Jamison exclaimed. “Doesn't like it when people do it to him but does it to everybody else.”

“Well, see you later,” Mike said, and walked into Joe's office.

“Hi,” Mike said. “Lunch is here. I got held up by a very confused Jamison. You didn't tell her I was coming?”

“No, I forgot.”

“You didn't tell her what I look like? How old I am?”

“It didn't seem relevant.”

Mike laughed. “She's probably still in an advanced state of shock out there. Wondering how you pulled such a pretty young thing.”

He rolled his eyes. “You're not so young.”

“I'm decrepit in women's years, don't you know? Dry as dust!”

Joe busted up laughing at that.

They added dramatically, “Like an overripe lemon!”

He shook his head fondly. “Come here.”

Mike set the bag down on a chair and approached his desk. They leaned in.

Joe gave them a gentle kiss hello.

“Not quite dry yet,” he said.

Mike gave him a quick peck back. “You're getting there.”

“Hm, I don't know. I sure drive you crazy.”

There was no denying that.

“Shut up and eat one of these sandwiches.”

Mike grabbed out a pastrami for him and a veggie for themselves.

“There's salad too,” Mike said. “Cilantro lime. It's really good.”

“It probably is, if you made it,” he said.

Mike smiled.

“Are you busy for the rest of the day?” Mike asked.

“Oh, there's this case and that case,” he said. “Why? Are you planning on playing hooky?”

Mike smiled. “Oh, no. I have to get back to the paper and write my thoughts about the latest White House sex scandal. Riveting stuff.”

“The readers like it,” he said.

Mike looked up from their sandwich. “How would you know?”

“Oh. People like to talk. People think you're funny. Right, but funny.”

“Well. That's good.”

“I found one of your short stories in one of those little literature journals,” he said. “You're good.”

“I didn't know you read literary journals.”

“I don't.”

“Oh.”

“You should try to aim higher,” he said. “Some big paper.”

“The Atlantic and the New Yorker keep rejecting me,” Mike said. “But that's understandable because only 0.00067 percent of people get into those.”

“You'll get in,” he said. “They'd be stupid not to at some point.”

“Thank you.”

After a while, both finished their lunch. Mike sipped their green tea as slowly as they could.

“Don't you have that sex scandal to write about?” Joe asked.

Mike sighed. “I'm trying to pretend I have all the time in the world.” They took his hand from across the table. “What if I want to stay here?”

“I'll have to kick you out,” Joe said, lightheartedly. “I can't enable you slacking.”

Mike did their best pleading eyes. “Just once? We could just go walk the dock together?”

“I'll see you after work,” he said. “The dock’ll still be there. Along with the stars.”

“Well,” Mike sighed. “I tried. Have a good rest of your day.”

“Good luck on that commentary,” he replied.

“I'm not leaving without a kiss goodbye,” Mike said.

They kissed him for as long as they could.

“You taste like pastrami and mustard,” they said with a giggle.

“Go, go,” he said, waving them towards the door.

“I'm going, I'm going! It's almost like you want me to leave!”

Joe shook his head. “See you later.”

“If you're lucky.”

“See you later,” he repeated.

Mike gave him one last smile, then left his office. They hurried downstairs and across the dock. They were 15 minutes over their lunch hour.

#self ship #self shipping community #j.r.#fun fact: i actually have submitted my original work to the atlantic and the new yorker. rejected of course #typewriter dings

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abigailkendallwrites · 1 year ago

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WINGLEADER: A Xaden Riorson POV Fanfiction

CHAPTER 19

Walking into Battle Brief, my eyes immediately land on the mop of bright blonde hair sitting several rows below and the long brown and silver braid next to him.

Liam turns to look at me, flashing a small smile before turning back around to say something to Violet, too low for me to hear.

Without turning around, Violet raises her hand in the air and proudly displays her middle finger.

I grit my teeth, glaring at the back of her head. She’s absolutely uncontrollable, insubordinate, and frankly, the most aggravating person I’ve ever met.

Peeling my eyes away from the back of her head, I tap my fingers on the surface of the desk. I’m fidgety and bored.

Battle Brief is nothing but lies and bullshit.

Violet does her best to avoid looking behind her, but like clockwork, she breaks, glaring at me over her shoulder. Liam does the same, albeit with a much friendlier look on her face and I ignore her, giving Liam a nod.

He nods back, and I can see Violet’s eyes roll in annoyance.

I smirk at my ability to get a rise out of her. Playing with Violence eases some of my boredom, but it does nothing to stop the restless energy that rushes through my body.

“Don’t mind her. She’s just sexually frustrated. Makes a girl crabby.” Rhiannon’s voice carries up toward me.

My mind is instantly filled with things that have no place in a classroom, and I have to shift in my seat to adjust the growing erection that’s pushing against my zipper.

Garrick stares straight ahead, but the smug smile on his face tells me that he knows exactly what’s going on below my desk.

“You good?”

I clear my throat, sitting up a little straighter. “Yup.”

“Great, because I was talking to Quinn in the gathering hall this morning–”

Out of the corner of my eye, Violet’s quill falls out of her hands and lands softly on the ground.

Pulling the shadows from underneath her seat, I caress the quill, scooping it into a cup of swirling darkness, and push it up toward Violet’s waiting hand.

A small peace offering.

I stifle a yawn as Professor Markham begins announcements. “If we can get started?” the scribe calls over the room, and silence falls as he unrolls a scroll onto the podium.

“First announcement,” Devera says, stepping forward. We’ve decided that not only will the winners of this year’s Squad Battle receive…”

The dull tone of Professor Devera’s voice fades into a quiet hum as my mind travels elsewhere.

…

Winter arrives in full force as December rolls in, bringing with it the harsh snow and wind that the Rider’s Quadrant receives on this side of the chasm.

Garrick and I are observing sparring practice today, both of us strolling at a leisurely pace, hands behind our backs in quiet companionship.

Nearing Violet and Rhiannon’s mat, Violet stops and scolds Rhiannon. “Challenges resume after solstice. You’re not doing me any favors by holding back.”

“She’s not wrong,” I interject from behind Violet.

“Well aware,” she fires back over her shoulder, not deigning to look at me as she says it.

I can feel Violet’s intense gaze on me as we walk past, and a thrill that races through me at the heavy weight of it on my back.

“Go away unless you have something useful to say.”

“Move faster. You’ll be less likely to die. How’s that for useful?” I say, sarcasm coating my words.

Garrick steps to the side of the center mat and pulls his shirt off in one fluid movement. “When’s the last time you sparred?” he asks, throwing the shirt over a bench and removing his daggers.

I start to tug on the hem of my own shirt, pulling it up over my hair. “Monday.”

Garrick slips his boots off and steps onto the mat. “No weapons, completely free-form.” His voice has that authority that comes out when he’s training another rider. He’s one of the only people in the Quadrant capable of testing me.

I slip off my own boots and step on the mat, positioning myself at a subtle angle.

There’s no real winning in sparring. For the first-year challenges, sure. At Garrick and I’s level though, sparring is all about the technique and execution. Keeping our minds fully in tune with the body, combining logic and skill with brute strength.

I move before Garrick, faking to his left before throwing my fist at his jaw. It's a brutal first maneuver with little finesse, but he’s expecting that kind of precision from me. Garrick’s forearm flies up to meet my fist, blocking the punch. His arm extends and grips my bicep, pulling me in close; his next move would have his hands around my neck. I push my foot in between his legs, hooking it around his right foot and pulling toward me.

It’s not enough to knock him off balance, but he stumbles, losing his grip enough for me to bounce back. He recovers his balance within the span of a breath. Garrick charges forward, and I skate to the side avoiding his grasp. I crouch, my leg coming out for a low kick. He shuffles out of the way, his lithe movements so at odds with his hulking body.

We continue this dance, switching from defense to offense until both of us have worked up a decent sweat.

I lean forward, drawing up to throw a hook into Garrick’s jaw when his gaze flicks up past my shoulder.

His forearms come up again, blocking my punch and we both stop, turning to look at the mat behind me.

Violet is lying on the ground with Rhiannon by her side on the mat, face flushed and chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

Off to the side of the mat, Liam stands with his shoulders squared, his whole body poised to attack, as Jack Barlowe saunters over to the mat.

“And here we go,” Garrick mumbles irritably.

I step off the mat, pulling on my socks and boots, eyes never leaving Jack as I tighten my laces.

I stand, walking silently over to Violet’s mat. I situate myself behind Violet, hands in my pockets, observing the confrontation.

“Walk the fuck away, Barlowe,” Liam orders, violent warning in every syllable.

Jack stands above Violet, a sneer scrunching his face as he examines her prone figure.

His eyes drift up, and I can see the exact moment that his eyes clock my riding boots and move up my body, face draining with color as he meets my bored gaze.

“She’s only alive because of you,” he spits, his lip curling in contempt.

I raise my eyebrows, "Right, because I’m the one who buried a dagger in your shoulder at Threshing.”

Below us, Violet scrambles to her feet, leaning on her staff for support.

“We could just settle this now,” Jack says, stepping past Liam. “If you’re done hiding behind the big, strong men.”

Garrick moves to stand next to me, and Imogen has steps slightly closer, her whole body on high alert.

Jack looks at all of us and then back down to Violet, “That’s what I thought.” He grins, blowing her a kiss with a loud smack.

“You ran,” Violet snaps, her voice a violent, angry snarl.

The sound is, well, hot.

Violence in her natural state is a far cry from the meek, nervous girl she’s been boxed into her whole life.

“That day in the field, you fucking ran when it was three on one, and we both know when it comes down to it, you’ll run again.” She pauses, looking him up and down. “That’s what cowards do.”

Jack flushes a bright red, his eyes wide in shock and anger.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Violet,” Dain mutters in exasperation.

Fuck. You.

“She’s not wrong,” I drawl.

Garrick lets out a raucous laugh as Liam takes Jack by the shoulders and pushes him out of the room.

With Jack and Liam out of the way, I can see past the other side of the mat where Violet has her clothes lying out on a bench.

Not just clothes, but her armor.

It’s like she’s trying to piss me off.

Liam pushes Jack the final few inches out of the door, and I flick a tendril of shadow toward it, snapping it shut.

“What the hell were you thinking, egging him on like that?” Dain marches forward for all the world, looking like a pompous toy soldier.

“Oh, now you feel like talking to me?” she snips, lifting her chin to look down her nose.

I step between them, a hot, sweltering rage beginning to bubble up inside of me. Violet doesn’t retreat, her eyes flaring with a heat that mirrors my own.

“Give us a second,” I tell Dain, keeping my gaze locked on Violet.

“You want to tell me why the fuck you’re not wearing that,” I point over to her armored corset. The same corset that I unlaced with my fingers, that touched the skin beneath it that night a few weeks ago.

Every ounce of anger is accompanied by the visceral desire to push her back down to the mat and fuck her in front of everyone.

“I have to wash it at some point.”

I blink back the arousal that’s threatening to spill over.

I take in a deep, shuddering breath. “And you thought that would be a good idea during sparring?”

“I washed it before sparring, knowing it could dry while your guard dog keeps watch, as opposed to sleeping without it because we both know what happens behind locked doors around here.”

I clench my teeth at her indignant tone. “Not behind yours anymore. I made sure of it.”

“Because I’m supposed to trust you?”

She has got to be fucking kidding. “Yes,” I answer, willing my body not to pick her up and carry her out of here so I can shout at her for being so reckless…among other things.

“And you make it so easy,” she snips sarcastically.

“You know I can’t kill you.” I throw my hands up in irritation. “Fuck, Sorrengail, the entire quadrant knows I can’t kill you.” I lean in toward her until we’re close enough to share breath.

She looks into my eyes, “That doesn’t mean you can’t hurt me.”

I blink and move backward, my face smoothing into a carefully controlled expression.

That fast, every bit of arousal has seeped out of me, leaving in its place something bitter and hateful.

“Stop training with a bow staff. It’s too easy to knock out of your hands. Stick to the daggers.”

“I was doing just fine until Tairn barged into my head with all his anger and distracted me.” Her tone is defensive.

“Then learn how to block him out.”

“What, with all this power I’m wielding?” She raises her brows expectantly. “Or were you unaware that I’m still not channeling?”

My anger is still a simmering thing underneath the surface of my skin. I lean back into her, invading her space the way she invades my every thought. “I am annoyingly aware of everything you do.”

There’s a line of electricity running through us that’s pulled so tightly I can almost feel it vibrating between us.

“Wingleader Riorson,” Dain says, and Violet and I both blink at each other as his words slice through the tension. “She’s just not used to the bond yet. She’ll learn how to block it out.”

Violet’s breath hitches, hurt and anger flashing in her eyes. She takes a step back, blinking furiously like she’s trying to reorient herself.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and swing my gaze to Dain. “You choose the oddest times to defend her, Aetos. And the most convenient times not to.”

Dain goes rigid. His fists clenched so hard his knuckles are white.

I turn back to Violet, my face still a mask of boredom. “Do us both a favor and put the fucking armor back on.”

I walk off the mat and back toward Garrick, feeling suddenly too hot. Violet is intoxicating, her anger and mine so exhilarating that it snaps my self-control when I’m around her.

Behind me, Violet gasps in horror.

Too hot turns to too cold, something cold and icy, freezing every nerve in my body.

My back is clearly visible in the light, covered by my navy blue relic.

And the one hundred and seven scars marring the skin underneath.

My back muscles bunch as I tense for a breath.

The irony of Violet’s horror at something her mother very much had a hand in is not lost on me.

I take my shirt from Garrick’s outstretched hand and tug it over my head, covering the grim reminder underneath a sheet of cotton.

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artyandink · 9 months ago

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Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️

seven - there’s a fallen angel on my shoulder

The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beau’s arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didn’t. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact I’d gotten over the past few years. Maybe I’m touched starved. Yeah, that’s it.

I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucy’s leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. “G’morning, Belle. Sleep ok?”

“Just peachy.” I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didn’t find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. “Let’s go.”

At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. “Finally, you brought her here.” He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. “I only got one thing to say. One thing only.”

“And what’s that?” Jenny asked, her expression stony.

“It better be good, otherwise you’re lookin’ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.” Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.

“MARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!”

NOW:

I’d had enough of this man.

"Mark," I began, my voice steady but laced with the seething anger bubbling beneath the surface. "You've been implicated in some very serious accusations. Care to explain why members of a crime syndicate named you in connection with Lucy's murder?"

Mark's jaw clenched, his fists tightening against the cold metal table. "I didn't have anything to do with it, Elle. I swear."

I fought to control the urge to lunge across the table and shake the truth out of him. "Then why would they mention your name? Why would they target me and Olivia?"

His gaze flickered, a fleeting moment of uncertainty betraying his facade of innocence. "I don't know, okay? Maybe they're trying to frame me!"

My patience wore thin, frustration boiling over. "You expect me to believe that? You've been trying to get custody of Olivia for months, refusing to tell me why. What are you hiding, Mark?"

He recoiled, his defenses crumbling under the weight of my accusation. "I just want what's best for her, Elle. You're not fit to raise her on your own."

The audacity of his words ignited a fire within me, burning with righteous indignation. "And you think you're the better option? You, who can't even explain why you're linked to a crime syndicate? You, who would go to such lengths to hurt me and Olivia?"

Mark's eyes widened in protest. "I would never hurt Olivia, Elle. You have to believe me."

But belief was a luxury I could no longer afford. "You may not intend to harm her directly, but if you can't have her, what's to stop you from targeting me instead? You've already proven you're capable of hiring thugs to do your dirty work."

The air in the room grew thick with tension as Mark's protests echoed against the cold walls. His desperation was palpable, his words a desperate plea for absolution. But I couldn't afford to let doubt cloud my judgment, not when Olivia's safety hung in the balance.

"Save your lies for someone who's willing to believe them," I snapped, my voice cutting through the suffocating silence. "I know you're hiding something, Mark. And I won't rest until I uncover the truth."

Mark's eyes narrowed, a flicker of defiance igniting within them. "You can't keep accusing me without any evidence, Elle. You're grasping at straws."

I slammed my palm against the table, the sound reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. "Don't you dare talk to me about evidence! You think I don't know what you're capable of? You think I don't see right through your pathetic excuses?"

His facade wavered, a crack forming in the mask of innocence he so desperately clung to. "I loved Lucy, Elle. I would never do anything to hurt her."

The mention of Lucy's name sent a dagger of pain slicing through my heart, a reminder of the gaping wound her absence had left behind. But I refused to let sentimentality cloud my judgment, not when justice hung in the balance.

"Love isn't enough to absolve you of guilt," I spat, my words laced with venom. "If you truly cared about Lucy, you would be honest with me. You would tell me what you know."

Mark's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white against the metal table. "I've told you everything I know, Elle. I swear."

But his words fell on deaf ears, drowned out by the chorus of doubts that echoed within my mind. Was it possible that I had misjudged him? That my anger had blinded me to the truth? I pushed the thought aside, refusing to entertain the possibility of betrayal.

"You expect me to believe that?" I scoffed, my laughter ringing hollow in the silence of the room. "You, who have been lying to me from the start? You, who would throw Olivia's life into chaos just to satisfy your own selfish desires?"

Mark's face contorted with anger, his facade crumbling before my eyes. "You have no right to judge me, Elle. You don't know what it's like to lose someone you love."

His words struck a nerve, reopening old wounds that I had fought so hard to bury. But I refused to let his guilt-tripping sway me, not when the truth hung just beyond my grasp.

"Don't you dare try to play the victim," I spat, my voice dripping with scorn. "You may have lost Lucy, but Olivia still has a chance at a future. And I'll be damned if I let you take that away from her."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of unspoken accusations hanging heavy in the air. Mark's gaze flickered, a glimmer of doubt shining within them. But I refused to let it sway me, not when Olivia's life hung in the balance.

"I'll find out the truth, Mark," I vowed, my voice a steely promise. "And when I do, there will be nowhere left for you to hide."

As I stepped out of the interrogation room, a rush of adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling my determination to unravel the tangled web of lies and deceit that surrounded Lucy's murder. But beneath the facade of unwavering resolve, doubt gnawed at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to undermine my every step.

I steadied my trembling hands against the cold metal railing of the staircase, forcing myself to take slow, deliberate breaths. I couldn't afford to let emotions cloud my judgment, not when the truth hung just beyond my grasp.

With every ounce of willpower I could muster, I composed myself, steeling my nerves for the challenges that lay ahead. Olivia's safety depended on it, and I would stop at nothing to protect her from the shadows that lurked in the darkness.

As I made my way back to the interrogation room, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was missing something, a crucial piece of the puzzle that had eluded me thus far. And then it hit me like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the darkness with startling clarity.

The tattoo on Lucy's wrist.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my mind racing as I tried to piece together its significance. 045114. It had been etched into my memory ever since I first laid eyes on it, a cryptic code that held the key to unlocking Lucy's secrets.

Turning on my heel, I marched back into the interrogation room, determination burning bright within me. Mark's eyes widened in surprise as I took my seat opposite him, the fire of interrogation burning in my gaze.

"What do you know about Lucy's tattoo?" I demanded, my voice a razor-sharp edge cutting through the silence.

Mark's brow furrowed in confusion, genuine bewilderment flickering in his eyes. "Tattoo? What tattoo?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at his feigned ignorance, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Don't play dumb, Mark. You knew Lucy better than anyone. You must have seen it."

He shook his head, his expression one of genuine perplexity. "I swear, Elle, I have no idea what you're talking about. Lucy never had a tattoo."

The certainty in his voice sent a shiver down my spine, a cold realization settling in the pit of my stomach. If Mark truly had no knowledge of Lucy's tattoo, then who did? And what did it mean?

I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing as I tried to make sense of the puzzle before me. The tattoo was the key, I was sure of it. But without Mark's cooperation, unraveling its secrets would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.

"Fine," I sighed, the weight of defeat heavy upon my shoulders. "But don't think for a second that this changes anything. I'll find out the truth, Mark, one way or another."

He met my gaze with a steely resolve of his own, a silent challenge passing between us. But beneath the facade of defiance, I sensed a flicker of fear, a gnawing doubt that lingered just beneath the surface.

As I rose from my seat and made my way towards the door, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was closer to uncovering the truth than ever before. Lucy's tattoo held the key, I was sure of it. And I would stop at nothing to unlock its secrets, no matter the cost.

“So, Tom, where are you from?” I asked Tom, sitting with my hands in my lap on the sofa of Dean’s house, waiting for Olivia to come downstairs for her date with Tom. I examined the boy, with his sandy hair and clever brown eyes. I didn’t like it, not one bit. But if Olivia saw fit, then fine, she saw fit.

“Me? I’m from… R-Roseburg.” Tom answered, a little taken aback by my question. His arms twitched a little from where they were folded over his chest, which I clocked instantly with a raised eyebrow. “Oregon.”

“Roseburg, hm?” I smiled a bit, tilting my head ever so slightly as I studied his expression. Psychology and Criminology, people. Works wonders. “Olivia’s biological father is from Roseburg. I don’t know if you’ve met him yet-”

“Dean, yeah.” Tom answered almost instantly, which caught me off guard. So… he already knew Dean? How and when?

“You know Dean?” I asked, frowning ever so slightly. “How?”

He seemed to recognise that he’d made a small mistake, clearing his throat and glancing away. “Small town.”

“Mhmm.” I nodded curtly, my blue eyes sharp as I stared at him for a moment. “Sure. Alright.” Then I spotted Harry walk in, his eyes on me in a way that I couldn’t explain as he scratched his five o’clock shadow. He was also in animated conversation with Dean, who gave a friendly clap on the shoulder.

“Issy.” Harry gave me a broad, almost hopeful grin as his eyes flitted down my form and back up again. I stood up for Dean, however, hugging him tightly with a pat on the back.

“Hey, Dean.” I whispered with a smile before turning back to Harry with pursed lips. “Harry.”

“Can I talk to you about the kids?” He asked abruptly, his eyes having been on me the entire time I hugged Dean. I debated telling him to screw himself, but decided to take the high road.

“Sure.” As Harry's request hung in the air, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease settle in the pit of my stomach. His eyes bore into mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl, and I found myself instinctively taking a step back, putting some physical distance between us. "Of course," I replied, forcing a tight smile as I tried to keep my tone neutral. "What about the kids?"

But before Harry could respond, I felt his hand on my arm, his touch sending a jolt of discomfort coursing through my veins. I tensed, my muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap at any moment. His grip tightened, his fingers digging into my flesh with a bruising force that made me wince.

"Let's talk in private," he murmured, his voice low and husky as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear.

My heart pounded in my chest like a drumbeat, a primal instinct urging me to flee. But I forced myself to stand my ground, refusing to let Harry intimidate me. I had faced worse than him in my line of work, and I wouldn't let him break me now.

"Fine," I snapped, wrenching my arm free from his grasp. "But make it quick."

As we made our way to the nearest empty room, Harry's hand brushed against the small of my back, sending a shiver down my spine. I resisted the urge to recoil, plastering on a fake smile as we stepped inside and closed the door behind us.

"What's this about, Harry?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt to shield myself from his probing gaze.

But instead of answering, Harry closed the distance between us in a single stride, his body pressing against mine with an oppressive force that stole the breath from my lungs. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, my mind screaming at me to fight or flee.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice trembling with barely suppressed fury.

But Harry's only response was a predatory grin as he pinned me against the wall, his hands roaming over my body with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. I struggled against his grip, the weight of his body bearing down on me like a leaden anchor.

"Stop it, Harry," I hissed, my voice tinged with desperation as I pushed against his chest, trying to create some space between us.

But he only laughed, the sound sending a chill down my spine as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. I felt bile rise in my throat, disgust warring with fear as he pressed his body against mine, his hands fumbling with the buttons of my shirt.

"Get off of me, you bastard!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls as I fought against his relentless assault. I didn’t want to do serious damage, so I tried to warn him instead, my hands pushing at his chest.

“Can’t help it, sugar lips.” He murmured into my neck, his hand breaching my shirt and running roughly over my stomach. “You can’t stand there, lookin’ so goddamn sexy, and expect me to keep my hands off you.” He gave my waist a pinch. “Ain’t that right? You can’t tease me like this, sunflower. S’not fair.”

“You’re married.” I growled, my nails digging into his shoulders, which only made him let out a groan. I knew I had to start fighting soon- and get Olivia out. Oh, god, Liv. “Rhea- does she mean nothing to you?!”

“Now you’re catchin’ on.” He took a fistful of my hair, tugging it to pull my head back. I felt my breath catch, my fist balling in my half-assed attempt to retain control. “Should’ve never left you, and now you’re dating that god-awful sheriff-” I knocked him back with a sharp punch to the throat, probably giving him a laryngeal fracture. I quickly put my hands up, panting heavily as my mind raced with ways he could twist the situation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Dean growled from the door, his voice a low, menacing timbre as he glared daggers at Harry. I presumed he’d heard or assessed the situation quickly, which I was thankful for.

But Harry only laughed, his eyes glinting with a twisted amusement as he brushed himself off and straightened his shirt. "Just having a little fun, Dean. Can't blame a guy for trying, can you?"

The smugness in his voice made my blood boil, a fiery rage burning within me as I glared at him with undisguised contempt. But before I could unleash the full force of my fury, Dean stepped in front of me, his protective stance a silent promise that he would keep me safe at all costs.

"Get out of my house," Dean spat, his voice cold and unforgiving as he shoved Harry towards the door. "And don't you ever lay a hand on her again. Don’t let your son come near my daughter again.”

As Dean escorted Harry out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the lingering echo of fear that still pulsed through my veins, I knew that I couldn't keep silent any longer. The truth had to come out, no matter how painful or difficult it might be.

Taking a deep breath to steady my trembling nerves, I turned to face Dean when he came back with a grave expression darkening his green eyes, my heart heavy with the weight of the words I was about to speak. But before I could utter a single syllable, the door swung open once more, revealing Rhea standing in the doorway, her fiery red hair a stark contrast to the pale grey of her eyes. My heart almost broke. She was unaware of all of this.

"I heard shouting," she murmured, her voice soft and hesitant as she glanced between Dean and me, a flicker of concern in her gaze.

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me as I met her gaze, steeling myself for the painful conversation that lay ahead. "Rhea, we need to talk."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, a faint furrow of worry creasing her forehead as she stepped further into the room. "What's going on?"

I glanced at Dean, silently pleading for his support as I prepared to shatter the fragile illusion of happiness that Rhea had built around her. "It's about Harry."

Rhea's eyes widened in surprise, a flicker of apprehension crossing her features as she glanced between us. "What about him?"

I hesitated, the words sticking in my throat like bile as I struggled to find the courage to speak. But Dean's reassuring presence at my side gave me the strength I needed to push past my fear and confront the truth head-on.

"Harry... he tried to force himself on me," I blurted out, the words tumbling from my lips like stones in a landslide.

Rhea's eyes widened in shock, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasped in disbelief. She didn’t seem defensive, or even angry that I’d suggest such a thing. She just seemed… apologetic and sympathetic. She believed me. "What? When did this happen?"

I recounted the events of the previous moments, the fear and desperation still fresh in my mind as I relived the terror of Harry's unwanted advances. Rhea listened in stunned silence, her face pale with shock as the full weight of my words sank in. I also told her everything, how Harry cheated on me with her, and she had no idea.

"I can't believe he would do something like that," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to process the enormity of what I had just revealed.

But Dean's expression hardened, his jaw clenched with barely contained fury as he glared daggers at the thought of his best friend's betrayal. "Believe me, Rhea, it happened. And I won't let him get away with it."

Rhea nodded, her eyes clouded with uncertainty as she turned to me with a shocked look in her gaze. "You didn’t deserve that." She immediately hugged me. “I want him behind bars for what he did. Behind bars. I was raising Tom with that man.”

“I’ll call the sheriff.” Dean pulled out his phone, stepping out to call Beau. I hugged Rhea again, stroking her hair.

“I’m so sorry, Rhea.” I sighed. “You didn’t know.”

“He tried to hurt you.” Rhea frowned, taking my shoulders. “Girl, whatever comes to him, he deserves it. Ain’t nothing happened to me, in my opinion, I lost dead weight. Dodged a bullet. What matters to me is that you’re alright. Which I know you’re not. So sit down, and I’ll get you some well deserved beverages. What’s your poison?”

“Beer would be good.” I ran a hand through my hair, breathing out slowly. “Beau’s gonna riot.”

“You mean the sheriff who you’re both secretly pining for?” She smirked, and my eyes snapped on her instantly. “You know I’m right. Think I can’t tell when two people are dating or not?”

“I-I-”

“It’s alright, really.” She put a hand on my shoulder blades, guiding me to her living room. I’d originally thought that Rhea was some girl who knew what happened three years ago and wouldn’t hesitate to rub it in my face, but here she was, grabbing me a beer, herself a glass of wine and we were sitting there and laughing about random topics while Dean covered up the situation with Olivia and Tom.

I found out that she liked to crochet, her comfort show was Friends, she was a big fan of the Hunger Games series and her celebrity crush was Henry Cavill, which I can’t completely fault. She wasn’t stuck up, snobby or anything I imagined her to be. She was… sweet. Kind. Normal. Makes me realise why Harry married her rather than me.

Meanwhile, Dean was talking pointedly to the kids, his arms folded over his chest. “I’m sorry, you two, but I can’t let you date anymore.” He sighed, which made protests emerge from the two in forms of shouting and questions. “I can’t say why. It’s a really sensitive topic. Tom, your mom will tell you when she’s ready. Liv, darling, it’s the same with you. Your aunt will tell you when she wants to.”

“Dad, you can’t do this.” Olivia whispered, shaking her head in disbelief. Her heart was breaking, and Tom merely looked stunned. Not really broken, but stunned.

“I can, sweetie, and I’m sorry.” He stepped forward, hugging Olivia. “I know this isn’t what you want, but I know what’s best for you. Trust me.”

Once Harry had been put behind bars, I instantly got a visit from Beau at my house since I’d moved back in. He stormed right up to me, hugging me with barely hidden tears in his eyes as he held my head. My head rested on his chest, my arms winding around his neck as I felt tears that never came.

“I-I’m gonna keep him there for life.” He choked out, rubbing my hair. I felt relief and also pain, at the fact that I’d walked into that situation thinking it’ll all be ok. “If n-not, I’m gonna k-kill him, Belle. I’ll kill him. Don’t try and stop me. Don’t you dare.”

“I’m ok, Sheriff-”

“Call me Beau, damnit, and you’re not ok, sweet girl. You’re not, so stop actin’ like you are.” His grip felt like a vice, angel wings that engulfed me and protected me from all harm and pain. This man should have a halo. “He doesn’t get to-to touch you like that. No one gets to touch your beautiful body like that.” He kissed my hair, deep rasps coming from his chest, which rose and fell as steady as it could. “That bastard will wish he were dead. He’ll… God, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you. That’s my job. To protect you. And I failed you.”

“No, no, stop.” I cupped his cheeks, looking into his almost bloodshot eyes with tears in my own at his words. “Don’t blame yourself. Don’t you dare blame yourself. You hear me? I fought. I fought like hell, and I’m out of that room. Dean helped me.”

“I gotta buy that man a drink.” Beau whispered, laying a shaky kiss to my forehead and temple before pulling back, putting reluctant distance, as if we felt like opposite poles of a magnet. Attracting. In a way that I couldn’t describe. If I had to put it into words, it would be… like a fire. Lighting up again. Something I hadn’t known for three years.

I couldn’t be… right?

I sat with Jenny in my garden, our feet on the grass as we were perched on my patio. I took a long sip of my bottle of beer, letting out a long and deep sigh through my nose while Jenny looked curiously at my side profile with a small smirk on her face. “So.” I smiled slightly as she took a swig of her own, also pretty pissed off at Harry. Mo had to hold her off from going after that ass.

“So.” She chuckled, head fully facing me now. “Beau seemed pretty riled up about Harry.” Jenny then took a sip of her beer with her eyebrows raised suggestively, making me nudge her, jolting her drinking aim off balance. “What?”

“You’re getting at me and Beau, right?” I deadpanned, letting another wave of the liquid soothe my throat. “I know you are.”

“What? He seems way too worked up for someone who’s ’just your sheriff.’.”

“Well, he’s worried, Jen.” I shrugged. “If it had been Emily in my place. Or Carla, even you, Cassie or Denise. Thank god I could defend myself, and I see where Beau’s coming from.”

“I thought referring to Beau for you was strictly limited to ‘Sheriff’ to keep it strictly professional.” She grinned cheekily, then her smile faded like a coin drop. “I’m gonna ask you something. And I want you to answer honestly. Are you… in love with Beau?”

Before I could say anything, the door to the garden opened, and Olivia walked out tentatively, a small package in her hands. “Aunt Isa?” Her timid voice spoke up, and my mouth opened slightly. “Can we talk?”

“Oh- uh, not the time, sweetie.” I gave her an apologetic smile. “Maybe tomorrow?”

“Ok. Uh, this came in the mail.” She handed me the package. “Just wanted to let you know.”

“Thanks, hon.” I took the rectangular box, glancing curiously at it as she left. Then I knew I needed to give Jenny an explanation. I couldn’t outrightly say yes to what frankly was the most difficult question of my life. Because this question was a promise. A declaration. A… decision. But it was one I couldn’t fight. My fingers fumbled with the tape of the box as I opened it unconsciously.

“I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

“So, is that a yes?” Jenny left the question hanging as I slid the object out of its cardboard packaging. A rectangular item wrapped in bubble wrap and a note taped to it. I could barely see the yellow of sunflowers on one side and the sky’s reflection on the other. I tore off the note, reading it.

Thought you might need this.

Tonya + Donno ;)

It was Lucy’s phone. I unwrapped it with trembling hands, watching and feeling as the cool surface stung my warm palm, the battery dead but the significance fully charged. My train of thought was lost, my teeth sinking to my bottom lip again.

“It’s hers.” I whispered, holding it up so Jenny could see.

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife @xxannyxx @deansbabymomma @elqsiian

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

#beau arlen x reader #beau arlen #beau arlen x oc #beau arlen x you #beau #big sky

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queen-of-deans-booty · 25 days ago

Text

Baby: Final Part

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, feeling broken and utterly helpless to the point of depression, wanting to die, being shot

Season Eleven Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

She makes a sharp turn into the woods and drives over a few loose rocks, jerking you in your seat. More blood spills out from the wound, and you press your hand to it as hard as you can. She parks the car, gets out, and yanks the back door open. She grabs Dean's hand and handcuffs them behind his back before looking at you. There is no way you're going to end up fighting her when you're fighting for your own life. She grabs the head from the trunk and walks over to the deputy's body. You turn your head to see her fixing him. She is reattaching his head to his body.

"Dean, wake up," you groan.

"Y/N?" Dean groans.

"She shot me, Dean. I can't..."

Dean lifts his head as best as he can to see blood spill out between your fingers.

"Y/N, heal yourself. You can do this. Focus on healing yourself."

"I can't," you cry. "I can't do it."

Mrs. Markham and Deputy Donnelly pile into the car with the deputy behind the wheel and Mrs. Markham in the passenger seat. As he is driving, he keeps looking back at you and Dean curiously. You're trying not to bleed out and Dean is trying to think of a way out of this with both your lives.

"I know you two are hunters," he sneers.

He reaches behind him and pulls Dean up so he's sitting instead of lying on the seat face down.

"I know you're a Nachzehrer. The maker, right? The pack Alpha?"

"Maybe you're not as dumb as you look."

"Thought you and yours like to keep a low profile."

"Sadly, rookies like Lily here aren't up to snuff when it comes to keeping their feeding quiet," he glares at Mrs. Markham.

"You killed your husband?" Dean asks.

He looks at you who is just trying to hold it together. The bullet didn't hit anything major, you don't think, but if you don't get medical help soon, you're gonna die.

"He wouldn't join us. People who don't join are food. I messed up, and I didn't bury him right."

"It's my fault, really. You weren't properly trained, but everyone deserves a mulligan, don't they? That's all my people were trying to do, Lily. They weren't going to kill you. Hell, I need you. I need all the help I can get."

"How many have you turned?"

Dean spots a hairpin on the seat from Sam's joyous hookup and tries to use it to free himself from his cuffs. He continues to look at you to make sure you're awake as he works.

"In the first hundred years? Three. In the last month? Sixteen."

"What, are you trying to field a baseball team?"

"It's like I said, I need help, every strong hand I can find. I need an army to fight the Darkness." Dean's face falls at the mention of Amara. "Oh, it's coming for all of us. There's nothing hunters or any human can do about it."

"Do you know how to stop it?"

"I don't think anything can stop it. I'm just trying to buy some time so I'm turning as many strong men and women as I can. Your brother will make a fine addition to the rank and file." He holds Dean's phone up. "I had Lily send him a text message from your phone. Oh, he's heading into a trap right now. You'd make a good soldier, too, but you cut off my head and I can't stand for that. Don't worry. I'm an every part of the buffalo kind of guy. Your death won't go to waste. You'll be your brother's first meal."

"What about me?" you bite out painfully.

"You're already wounded. No point in trying to save you. You'll be my meal," he grins with his fangs out.

Dean gets the cuffs off and attacks the deputy from behind. Dean wraps his arms around his neck and tries to choke him out, causing the car to swerve and crash into a construction zone. The crash is enough to jerk you around hard enough to knock you out. When you come to, every single window is shattered, the deputy is through the windshield, Mrs. Markham is lying on the floorboard in the front, and Dean is slumped over the back of the front seat. You moan painfully and look at Dean who is just now waking up.

Dean sits up and rubs his head as he takes in his surroundings. Your cry of pain is what jerks him into focus, and he slides closer to you. You're pale and shaky and still bleeding over your fingers.

"Y/N, you need to heal yourself."

"I can't. I can't do it, Dean," you cry.

The deputy stands up and glares at Dean through the shattered windshield. There is a huge piece of glass stuck in his cheek and blood everywhere but he is weakened. It doesn't matter if he is a monster or not, anyone going through the windshield of a car is going to hurt badly. There is a small Hello Kitty purse on the ground but Dean doesn't question why it's there. He grabs it and finds pennies inside. He doesn't know if one of them is before 1982 but hopes there is.

Deputy Donnelly jumps back into the car and punches Dean hard in the jaw. He knocks into you, causing your hand to slip and more blood to come out. Your head is dizzy and your breathing becomes more ragged. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe I'm meant to die here.

Lily wakes up and joins in on the fight, and she wraps her arms around Dean's shoulders. She pulls him onto the front seat and gets a better grip so that her arms are now around his neck. Deputy Donnelly jumps out of the car and wretches the driver's door open so he can grab Dean's legs. Dean kicks him in the face and elbows Lily's jaw as hard as she can. She yelps out in pain and falls out of the car onto the hot asphalt.

Heal, Y/N. Heal yourself. Every time you think about using magic, your entire body gets flooded with fear. The magic that came from the Scarlet Witch is still inside of you. Your soul prevents it from coming out. You're scared of using it and turning back into her. The tears have stopped coming only because you're starting not to feel any pain which means you're closer to death than you realize.

You look to the right and see Billie standing on the side of the road just staring at you. She's waiting for you to die. If you die, she is bringing you to the Empty where nothing ever escapes. Dean punches Deputy Donnelly and pins him to the front seat where she shoves every penny he grabbed from the purse into his mouth. He keeps his hand over his mouth so the deputy doesn't spit them out even though he tries.

Dean yanks the deputy out of the car by his feet and slams the door repeatedly on his head, eventually decapitating him. He doesn't move a single inch once his head has been chopped off which means one of those pennies just so happened to be made before 1982. Dean opens the door and tosses the head onto the ground at the same time as Lily wakes up.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," he mutters to his car.

"Dean," you whimper.

"Y/N!" Dean rushes around to the other side of the car, the same side Lily is on. "Y/N, I know you're scared. I know you're terrified of using your magic but you need to heal yourself. Baby, you're gonna die if you don't."

"I can't," you cry. "I can't, I can't. I can't do it. Dean, I'm dying. Maybe this is for the best."

"No, you don't get to say that!" He curses. "Don't worry, we'll get you fixed."

"Oh, my God. What have I... My kids. My kids. They turned my kids. They're with the others. Please," Lily begs.

"Sam," Dean whispers.

"Dean, get to Sam. I'll be okay. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

"Hang on, Y/N. Don't you dare die on me."

Dean and Lily hop into the front seat, and Dean tries to start his car. After the damage she's sustained, she doesn't start right away. He tries two more times before she springs to life, and Dean rolls his head in relief. He reverses the car and swiftly turns the car like he's Mr. Fast and Furious. He's so smooth with it that you barely even move from your spot.

I can't do it. What kind of witch am I if I can't even heal myself? I'm broken.

Dean drives as fast as he can to the place where Lily's kids are being held, the ones that Deputy Donnelly had turned to create his army with. Lily runs to her children while Dean helps Sam who is also beaten up.

"We gotta go. Lily shot Y/N and she can't heal herself."

"What?"

Sam rushes to the car and sees the ghostly look on your face. You're slumped over with your eyes barely open and mouth parted. Dean opens the door and moves your hand which is nearly ice cold. He peels back your shirt and sees blood oozing from your wound. He reaches around and tries to feel for an exit wound but finds none. The bullet is still inside of you doing as much damage as it can.

"We need to get her to a hospital."

"No hospital," you mutter. "Castiel..."

"You won't survive the twenty hours it'll take to get home."

"I'll stay in the back with her. Just drive."

Dean peels away and races down the street to the nearest hospital. He all but slams on his brakes when he gets to the emergency room side, and Sam gently lifts you from the car seat and tries not to make your wound worse.

"Please help my wife! She's been shot!" Nurses immediately flock to Sam and Dean with a stretcher and medical supplies. They try to help the brothers but Dean swats her hand away. "We're fine. This is fake blood. We were in the middle of filming a video. We're fine. Just help her."

You're taken into emergency surgery to fix the bullet wound. You're lucky they took you in when they did because an hour later, you would have been dead. Your heart stopped once during surgery but they succeeded in bringing you back without additional complications. Sam and Dean did everything they could to convince the nurses that you were accidentally shot while they were filming because they'd hate for the police to be involved.

You're placed in the ICU to recover but there is no way Dean is going to keep you here, not when there is an angel waiting for you at home that can heal you. Dean doesn't know how Sam does it but you're discharged from the hospital hours later. You sleep the entire ride back home, only waking when you feel Dean's lips on your forehead.

"What happened?" you mutter.

"We'll talk later. Right now, we gotta get you to Cas."

Sam runs into the house for the angel while Dean helps you out of the car. Pain spreads from your side and tears roll down your cheeks. Maybe I deserve this after what I've done. Just let me die. Sam and Castiel walk into the garage minutes later, and Castiel approaches you with concern written all over his face. He places a hand on your shoulder and uses his powers to heal you.

Just like that, you're no longer in physical pain.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like you care," you snap.

You push your husband away and head into the house, and Dean stops the angel from following after you.

"Let her go. Just give her some space."

"Was it something I said?"

"No, she's having a hard time is all. This was a bad day for her."

You cry silently as you walk to your kids' rooms. Noah is already in his own bed but the girls are both snuggled in Joanna's bed. Molly is sitting on the edge of the bed telling them a bedtime story, and you pause right before you enter their room so they can't see you. I'm such a bad mother. I'm a bad witch. I'm a bad hunter. Why the hell am I still around?

No one wants a mother who is broken.

You sigh silently and leave them alone to go to your room. Maybe you'll feel better in the morning.

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