#&&. v; once we were not afraid of the night (companion) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsbrekkers · 3 years

Note

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. )

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin?

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging.

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional.

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel.

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead.

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years

Text

Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra.

Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)

Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader

Word count: 9552

You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died.

Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.

Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less.

Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.

Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.

This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.

Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.

You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.

"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."

The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.

As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.

"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"

You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.

"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."

Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"

"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."

You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.

"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"

There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.

"Clear."

You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.

"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"

It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.

It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.

"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."

It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.

"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."

"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."

You're about to respond when she speaks again.

"Please, hurry."

"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."

It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.

"Here! We're over here!"

You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.

"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."

She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.

You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it.

It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least.

The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right.

You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"

She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder.

"On three, okay? One... two... three!"

Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down.

The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.

"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.

"Good, go do it."

She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.

"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"

The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."

You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled.

Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.

The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.

"Up!"

Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.

"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."

You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles.

"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."

Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.

The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze.

"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."

She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."

You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.

"Let's go, kid."

The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.

"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."

You look over to her, and she nods.

"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."

She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."

It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.

"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.

You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"

She nods. "Never told me a last name though."

"That's alright. A first name's enough."

She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.

"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.

You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"

She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling.

As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.

She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around.

Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.

This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together.

Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.

You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.

"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.

"Go on, go see hi--"

The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."

Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.

The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.

The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.

"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.

"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.

"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"

She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.

"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.

"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.

You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.

His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.

"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."

You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.

"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."

Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.

His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.

"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."

You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.

"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"

"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.

The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."

You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.

"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."

Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.

The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.

When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.

"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."

You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.

"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.

You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.

"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."

You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.

The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.

"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."

"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.

Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."

You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."

You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.

"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."

"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."

You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."

Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"

"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."

"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.

You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."

Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"

You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."

The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.

Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate.

You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.

He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.

"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."

You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.

"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.

You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.

You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.

In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.

In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.

Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.

Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly.

After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.

You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.

You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.

A silly, beautiful dream.

Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.

You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.

And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.

He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.

You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.

There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.

"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"

His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.

Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.

"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.

Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.

His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.

"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”

His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.

”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment.

Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“

He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.

A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.

It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.

"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.

You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.

The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.

Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself.

The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.

No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.

Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"

The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.

"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.

He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"

You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.

"What did he say your name is?"

She blinks. "My name's Cee."

Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...

"What was your father's name?"

She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."

Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."

The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.

And then you give her your name.

Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.

"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.

"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."

You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another.

Above you, Ezra clears his throat.

"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"

You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.

"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."

Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.

You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.

The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.

After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.

If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.

Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.

"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.

He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."

You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."

She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"

"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.

You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."

"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.

Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.

It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school.

The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way.

Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.

”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.

You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.

”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.

You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?”

He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”

You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.

Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.

Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how.

You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.

When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.

"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center.

He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.

You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.

"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.

"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.

"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."

His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.

"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."

You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.

"Let me live for you."

You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.

Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.

All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.

You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.

"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.

"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"

He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."

You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.

Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.

His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.

This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.

"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.

Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.

"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"

You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.

Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.

"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.

"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.

You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.

You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.

"I asked you a question, sweet girl."

You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.

"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.

Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.

"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."

You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.

"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"

You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."

The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --

Oh.

He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.

You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.

"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"

You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"

Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.

You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.

His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.

"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."

"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."

"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."

You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.

"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."

You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...

"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."

Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.

You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.

A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her.

"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.

You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.

"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"

Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.

"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.

You look over to him, pleased with this revelation.

As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.

You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.

For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.

#ezra x you #ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #prospect #prospect fanfiction #prospect (2018)#ezra x reader smut #pedrp pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #ezra fic #ezra prospect x reader #canon compliant #wrote this while listening exclusively to grimes #take that as you will

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noladyme · 4 years

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My Only Sunshine - Chapter 4

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 3

I had the driver take me to Reunion Tower; not wanting to go back to the hotel just yet. Clutching the package in my arms, I stood for a long time, looking at the panoramic view of Dallas. It was beautiful, but I couldn’t appreciate it; being too rattled from my encounter with Thomas. He didn’t remember me, and yet he’d sent me the picture of myself dancing; and the one of me and Sam talking. Or had he? I was confused, and afraid.

After I watched the sun set over the city, my phone rang; and I picked up the call. “Hi. You’re late”, I heard Pam’s bored voice. “Oh… right. I’m sorry”, I said. “Fråga henne var I helvete hon är!”, Eric thundered in the background. “I’m supposed to ask where in the hell you are…”, Pam said. “I’m on my way back”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few. I have the package”. “Är hon I säkerhet?”, Eric said. “You could ask her yourself…”, Pam said. Someone threw something made of glass. “You should probably hurry up… Before we have to pay for this place to be renovated”, Pam said. “I’m on my way”, I said, and hung up.

I told the driver to hurry back to the hotel, and almost ran into the suite. A maid was sweeping up some broken glass from the floor, and a recliner was almost torn in half. Pam was reading yet another magazine on the couch. I had been right about Erics comfort about his own nakedness, as he stormed into the living room – lips drawn back in a snarl – without even closing his robe before Pam or anyone else might see him. It was only when the maids jaw dropped, that he finally decided to cover himself up. He was holding the torn-up dress I’d been wearing the night before, and threw it on the coffee table. “Goddammit, Eric. That was couture!”, Pam said. “Please tell me the boots are ok”. “Get out”, Eric said to the maid. “Sir, I just need to…”. “I said, get the fuck out!”, he growled. The woman almost ran out of the room. “Great, now I have to go out for breakfast”, Pam said.

Eric walked up close to me; staring me down. “Where the fuck have you been?”, he said. I moved around him, and put the package on the table. “I went to see that photographer, like you asked me to”, I said quietly. A V-amped psychopath, who would have probably hurt me, if he hadn’t been glamoured to forget me. “You should have been back hours ago!”. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep from screaming at him. “What the fuck do you care? You only just rose”. Pam raised a brow at me; and I almost offered her some popcorn with her show.

Cherishing my life more than that, I instead headed towards my room. Eric stormed after me; and took a firm hold of my arm. I instantly froze in place. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry”, I breathed, not daring to meet Eric’s eyes. He let go, and seconds later, I found myself seated on the edge of the bed, with the vampire kneeling in front of me. “What happened?”, he asked. “Nothing… Nothing happened”, I said. I wasn’t lying – nothing had happened. Thomas hadn’t touched me; not in the way I’d feared he would if he ever saw me again. “Pam, go get ready. Take the gift, and make it more presentable”, Eric said almost inaudibly. I heard the door to the suite close behind Pam as she left.

I was shaking in front of Eric, and he brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “I don’t want you to be afraid of me”, he said. “I would never hurt you”. “I know…”, I whispered. “Do you?”, he asked. I didn’t reply. “Liv; look at me”. I raised my eyes, and met his. They were gentle, even warm. “I do… It’s just this place… those vampires last night”. This time, I was lying; a little. Eric raised his brows at me. “That’s why I don’t want you alone after sunset”, he said. “I can’t protect you when I don’t know where you are”. “I know”, I nodded, and looked down again. “And I should have been back before sunset. It’s what you’re paying me for”.

He put a finger under my chin, and made me look up at him. “Did you think I was angry because of the job?”, he asked. “I don’t know, what I think… Why didn’t you just get someone else to come to Dallas with you?”. My voice was sharp; surprising even myself. “Don’t give me some story about meetings and stuff; I don’t even know what kind of information I’m supposed to pass on to you”. “You know why”, Eric said. “So… we could have sex; and you could get over your thing for me…”, I almost whispered. He frowned at me. “When I realized you were gone, after I rose…”. He clenched his jaw. “Yeah, I saw that chair in there”, I muttered. “I don’t do that… I don’t lose control”, Eric said. “But I did, because of you".

I put a tentative hand on his shoulder. Eric leaned closer to me, and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck, and he pulled me of the bed; onto his lap, so I was straddling him. I whimpered softly, when he suckled at my lover lip, and slid his hand down to my butt; squeezing it. “If we had enough time, I would fuck you on the floor right now”, Eric said against my lips. His robe had opened; and looking down, his erection was telling me that he was being truthful. “Later?”, I asked hopefully. “Greedy…”, Eric chuckled. I blushed, and turned my face away. “No, I like it”, he assured me; and kissed my neck near the fang-marks form the night before.

I pulled back slightly. “Eric… Could you make them go away?”, I asked. He set me back on the bed, and got up to stand; removing his robe, and throwing it into a corner, before walking back towards his own room. “Yes, but I won’t”, he said. “It’s better that you have the marks tonight. There will be even more vampires we must convince of you being mine…”. He turned around facing me in all his glory. “Unless, you changed your mind…”, he said, raising a brow at me. “I didn’t”, I assured him. He grunted, and rolled his eyes; before continuing into his room. “The red dress”, he said, as he walked away. “Oh, and we’re going to talk about whatever it is Sugar and Spice means. You didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”.

“Fuck…”, I muttered to myself.

---

“You were a stripper?”, Pam said. “I knew you had at least one redeeming quality”.

We were seated in a sedan again; on our way to Godrics house, where the opening ceremony of the conference would be held. Eric had more or less been glued to my side, after I stepped out of the bathroom wearing the dress, he’d chosen for me. My chest was pushed up by the tight fabric, and he’d looked hungry in more than one way, when he saw me. Now, his face was pointed forwards as I sat next to him in the limo. I didn’t know if he was pissed or didn’t care, now that I had told him and Pam about my former job. His face gave nothing away.

“I didn’t strip…”, I said. “Wasn’t really a reason to; I was already wearing so little”. “So, you just danced in your underwear?”, Pam asked. “Yeah… Was good at it, too”. I wasn’t going to make some stupid Viking make me feel bad about a job I had enjoyed. At least up until the part where I had to drop everything, and run away. “How are you with a pole?”, Pan said. “Enough”, Eric said. “We’re here”.

The limo stopped in front of a beautiful modern house, and Eric stepped out first; giving both Pam and I a hand to exit the car. I was once again in a pair of ridiculously high heels, and finding it difficult to walk behind my vampire companions; but knew that we were in business mode, and I needed to know my place as a lowly human. I wasn’t supposed to complain; I should be honored to even be there. I was carrying a cloth wrapped package – the item I’d picked up from Thomas’ studio. Taking the lead of our little parade, Eric nodded at the vampire guarding the door; and we entered the large room – without me falling over in the process.

Stan seemed to hold court in a corner, surrounded by vampires and a few humans. His meal from the night before had been lent out to another vamp, who was snacking from her wrist on a large white sofa. Isabel was nearby, looking in Stan's direction, while conversing with Carl – a worried expression on her face.

Eric stopped at the end of a line, going up to a large double door. I went to stand behind him and Pam, but he reached back to grab my arm, and tug me forward; so that I stood next to him. “Do you remember the rules?”, he asked. “Don’t speak unless spoken to. Keep my head down. Don’t attract attention”, I muttered. “You’re going to have trouble with that last part”, he said. “You look delicious in that dress”. He looked down at me. “I’ll take the blame for that”, he said, smiling slightly. So, he wasn’t pissed.

After waiting for what seemed like forever – especially in uncomfortable shoes – it was our turn to face our host. The double doors opened, and we stepped into an office. Godric was seated in a recliner, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Eric kneeled in front of his maker; but as Pam didn’t follow, I thought I didn’t need to either. I was only furniture, after all.

“It is good to see you again”, Godric said; and put his hand on Erics head. “As is custom, I have brought you a gift”, Eric said, and got up to stand. I looked at the large desk, and saw a spread of items – ranging from jewelry, to an ancient looking sword, to what looked like a solid gold cowboy boot. Eric turned to look at me, letting me know to hand over the package.

I stepped forward, and handed Godric the bundle, making sure to keep my eyes down. Godric placed his cool hand on top of mine, and I raised my eyes to see that his were trailing my neck. He looked at me, and smiled almost sadly. “Thank you”, he said. “Eric. You’ve tasted”. “I have”, Eric said. “She is… like nothing I have tasted before”. “I’m not a fucking juice-box. Stop talking about me like that!”, I hissed.

Pam’s jaw dropped, and Eric looked impossibly paler than before. “Liv…!”, Eric said below his breath. “Stay quiet”. Godric smiled broadly. “You’re the first human who’s dared to speak out loud in my presence tonight”, he said. “That is the best gift so far”. Eric looked down at the floor; and Godric got an expression, like a parent in front of a disappointed child. “But, I am sure I will be glad for this as well”, he said, and began unwrapping the velvet cloth from around the gift.

Inside was a black wooden frame, surrounding a photograph, of three figures. I looked over it quickly, recognizing two of the people photographed. Eric and Godric. The third was a woman.

“1839, Cormeilles-en-Parisis”, Eric said. “The last time…”. “The last time we were all together”, Godric said. “Louis Daguerre captured the moment, before Nora glamoured him to forget”. Eric smiled softly. “She had to. We almost drained his assistant”. “He lived”, Godric said. He looked up at Eric. “It is a good memory, Eric. Thank you”. Eric nodded with what verged on a warm smile.

The door opened, and Isabel stepped inside. “Godric, 13 is waiting”, she said. “And we all know what happens when Rose is kept waiting too long”, Godric almost sighed. “Eric, I will have need for your human at the ceremony". Eric frowned for a moment. “Yes, Godric”.

We left the room quickly, and once again I kept behind Eric and Pam. We went outside into the yard, where a platform had been raised on the middle of the lawn. Strange music – like classical techno – came from some speakers, and vampires were mingling, having quiet conversations. “What was that about?", I asked. Eric gave me a look out the corner of his eyes. “I’m not sure", he muttered; seemingly very unhappy about that fact. I wasn’t just unhappy. I was afraid. I didn’t know what Godric wanted from me, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. “He has need for me? What am I supposed to do?”. “I don’t know!”, he thundered. “But you will be fine… I’m sure of it”. I wasn’t.

All the attending sheriffs and their companions gathered on the lawn; and as my heels were sinking into the ground below me, Eric put an arm around my waist to keep me standing. “Maybe you should have gone barefoot”, he said quietly. “Dick”, I muttered. “Later”, Eric promised, making tingles run down my spine.

“Welcome vampire-sheriffs of the Americas”, Isabel said, having gotten on the platform accompanied by Stan and Godric. I guessed Isabel was some sort of deputy-sheriff; I didn’t know too much about vampire politics. “Before we start the ceremony, let me go over a few of the agreed upon statutes for our convention”. The strict-looking female vampire raised her hand, but Isabel halted her. “Rose, your objections have already been noted; and the suggested changes from Area 13 will be voted on at the appropriate time”. “She wasn’t at the party last night”, I whispered. “Because she’s a boring cunt”, Pam said. “Now shut up”.

Isabel continued. “Feeding on willing humans will be allowed, outside meetings. Sheriff Godric encourages you all to keep it in private – or at least away from humans not attending the conference. Only TruBlood will be served during meetings, for those who cannot wait until after… Claimed humans are off limits, unless their masters allow it, and the human consents…”. Eric gazed towards me, and shook his head slightly. I was off limits to anyone but him. “There will be no deaths at this convention, be they human or true deaths for vampires… Any agreements made between districts will be shared at the end of the convention”. “Fat chance”, Pam scoffed, while Eric simply raised a disbelieving brow. “These are the main points of our agreed upon statutes. The rest are in your welcome packages”, Isabel finished. “Godric will now lead the opening ceremony”.

Godric stepped forwards with a solemn expression. “Brothers and sisters – and humans”, he said. Some of the vampires sneered at his addition. “We are convened to share and learn from each other. Under our kings and queens – and under the Authority – we are to lead and guide the vampires in our areas, keeping peace and assuring prosperity; especially in our relation to the human world”. Another murmur went through the crowd. “As this is election year, this is a good a time as any for new beginnings”. “What the fuck is he doing, Eric?”, Pam whispered. “Is he trying to get killed?”. “Not now”, Eric said. “Custom is that we open the conference, by the host toasting in blood from a chosen human; who kneels at the sheriff’s feet… Eric?”.

Eric tensed up next to me. “Godric, no…”, he said almost inaudibly. “För fram din människa”, Godric said, and looked at me. I swallowed hard. “What’s happening?”, I croaked. Eric looked at me defeatedly. “Godric has chosen you to feed from”, he said. My eyes widened in fear. “He can’t do that, I’m supposed to be yours!”, I said. “I must do as he asks…”, Eric said; and with a firm grip around my arm, he led me forwards. “You’ll be fine”. “I don’t want to!”, I said. “What the hell happened to consent?”. “Do us both a favor, and shut the fuck up”, Eric said. “Just trust him”.

Eric lifted me onto the platform, as if I weighed no more than a small child; and I was now stood in front of the ancient sheriff of Area 9. Eric stepped over to stand next to Isabel and Stan. Godrics eyes were warm, and he gave me a slight smile, before turning to the crowd again. “I’ve decided to forego custom”, he said. “Peace between vampires and mankind should not be discussed, after a ceremony based on degradation of humans. We were once all humans; though some of us may have forgotten that”. I heard Stan curse below his breath, and gazing across the crowd I saw a wide range of expressions on the present vampires faces. Some where smiling, respectful even; while others – too many for my liking – looked angry, and even afraid. Godric looked at me again. “Human, I stand before you in appreciation of your life, your mortality and your bravery for being here; among us who have preyed on you for millennia. As a representative for humankind, I ask for your forgiveness for the blood I and my kind have taken from you without having been given leave to do so. I cannot ask forgiveness for the lives that have been lost; for that there can be no clemency…”. An audible gasp went through the crowd, as Godric kneeled in front of me. “I am sorry”.

“What the fuck is this, Godric?”, Stan growled. “This is not what we agreed on”. Godric ignored him. “Will you stand with me, as I proclaim this conference open – not as a lower being; but as an ally?”, he asked me. I gazed towards Eric, who had an unreadable expression on his face. He wasn’t going to tell me what to answer, as I was about to represent all humankind to these vampires “I… will”, I said, my voice shaking. Godric smiled warmly, and got on his feet; taking my hand, and raising it in the air. “I now declare this conference in session”.

The music was turned up, covering the sounds of the disgruntled murmuring among the attendees. Godric let my hand down, and looked at me. “Thank you, Liv”, he said, and nodded for Eric to come take me away. With an arm around my waist, Eric led me off the platform, and into the house again.

---

I was taken back into Godrics office, where the gifts – save the picture Eric had restored – had been removed from. The photograph of Godric, Eric, and the beautiful dark-haired woman, lay on the desk.

My knees were shaking, and Eric led me to sit in the recliner, where Godric had been greeting guests from earlier. Pam closed the doors behind us. “Seriously, Eric. What the fuck?”, she said. “What the hell is he playing at?”. “Stan was right”, Eric said quietly. “Godric is stepping down… he will have to now”. He punched his fist into the desk, making the glass surface shatter. “Fuck!”. “Did I just almost get eaten?”, I asked. “No”, Eric snarled. “Godric had no intention of feeding from you tonight”. Well, he had already had a taste once, I reminded myself. And I’d tasted him.

The double doors slammed open, and Stan stormed in; Godric and Isabel close behind. “I demand that you pull out of the running for another term as sheriff!”, Stan growled. “That display out there was bullshit!”. “It needed to be done”, Godric said. “We have to start showing respect for our human beginnings”. “It was dangerous, Godric”, Isabel said. “You may have lost many supporters”. Godric smiled softly. “Then it is good there are other candidates”, he said, raising a brow at her. Isabel shook her head. “We’ve discussed this. I am not a viable candidate, after what happened with Hugo”, she said. “Damn right, you’re not”, Stan said. “But what you just did out there, leaves me with a fuckload of cleanup once I’m sheriff, if I’m ever going to convince the other areas that Dallas don’t bend to lesser beings. What’s next? We gonna be hooking up with weres now?”. Godric went to sit by his desk. “You both have meetings to attend. Go on”, he said to his underlings. “I’m not going to let this stand”, Stan said, and left the room with vamp-speed. “Master…”, Isabel began. “Please, Isabel… go see to your meeting”. The brunette nodded, and left the room; closing the doors behind her.

The silence in the room was almost deafening, as Eric stared at his maker. I was about to open my mouth, when I saw Pam shaking her head slightly at me. “Hvarför, Godric?”, Eric muttered. “Eric, I am tired”, Godric said. “I want to step down. I don’t want another term”. “You’re the only one able to keep Stan in check”, Eric said. “Without you, it’ll be chaos!”. “I made my stance on our relations to the humans”, his maker responded. “Isabel will continue on in the track I have laid out”. “If she’s voted in!”, Eric said. “Stan is just as likely to win”.

“Don’t the local vampires vote for their own sheriff? Stan doesn’t seem very likeable; who’d want to vote for him?”, I asked. Pam rolled her eyes at my inability to stay quiet. Godric smiled overbearingly at me. “Sheriffs are officially chosen by the vampire Authority, in a popular vote among its chancellors”, he explained. “The sheriffs all speak their mind on each other, in private meetings with the chancellors”, Eric said. “Per custom, the Authority chose the sheriffs based on these conversations – and based on the chancellors’ preferences”. “So… the sheriffs choose each other, and then some higher authority confirms it? Isn’t that nepotism?”, I frowned. Godric’s smile broadened. “It is… and it is how I have remained in power so long”. “The chancellors always have the last word”, Eric muttered.

I saw Godric run his fingertips over the face of the woman on the picture in front of him. “Who is she?”, I asked. He raised his eyes, and looked at me. “That is not necessary for you to know”, Eric said, his voice almost warning me. “She is Eric’s sister”, Godric said, making Eric clench his jaw in anger. “My daughter; chancellor Nora Gainesborough. She has fought for my reelection for the last 70 years”. My eyes widened in realization. “You did what you did, so you wouldn’t have to be sheriff again!”, I said. “You didn’t mean any of what you said”. Godric shook his head. “No, I meant every word”. “You are forcing her hand”, Eric said. “Nora won’t be happy when she hears about this”. “I know it will pain her, but I cannot continue on as sheriff”, Godric said. “This was the only way… And I could make my stance clear”. “You’ve also made your future as a chancellor a complete impossibility”, Eric said.

“Enough, Eric”, Godric said, his voice instantly making Eric cower. “It is done… Now go. I want to speak to the human alone”. Eric looked back at me, and narrowed his eyes. I drew in a short breath, and shook my head – half in fear, half in confusion. “Why?”, Eric asked. “We have things to discuss, which are private”, Godric said. The Viking clenched his jaw, and tried to steady his voice. “You should know that Liv cannot be glamoured”, he said. “If she wants to share what we speak about with you, that is her choice”, Godric replied. “But I trust I don’t have to command you, to not force her to tell you”. “Of course…”, Eric said. “I have a few meetings to attend to”. “I will make sure Liv is safely returned to the hotel”, Godric said. “You can use my secretary, until she returns”. A middle-aged man stepped through the door, and bowed to Godric. Apparently, Godric didn’t see the need for scantily clad young women, when it came to choosing his staff. Eric gave me a last solemn look, before he and Pam disappeared; leaving me alone with the ancient vampire.

Godric got up to stand. “Will you take a walk with me?”, he asked. “Mind if I take off my shoes?”, I replied.

---

The dew on the grass cooled down the beginning blistering on my feet, as I walked through the yard with Godric. Some vampires were in the process of taking down the platform; but they worked so fast, that soon we were alone under the stars.

“I did not think I would ever see you again”, Godric said. “Likewise”, I said. “I need you to know, I never told anyone”. “I knew you wouldn’t”, Godric said. “And yet, as I see you now, you have the same expression of fear on your face, as you had that night. Was my part of our deal not kept up?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Thomas has… He’s been sending me messages. Photographs”. “And you’ve seen him again”, Godric said. “Eric’s gift came from him?”. “Eric doesn’t know about what you did… the deal we made”. Godric nodded somberly. “When you saw him… Did he remember you?”, he asked. “He didn’t seem to”, I said. “And he has a woman with him… I think he hurts her. They’re both on V”. If Godric was the kind of vampire that sighed, it was clear he would have. “There was a chance this might have happen”, he said. “The amount of vampire blood in your aggressor’s body that night, may have made him unable to be fully glamoured. Even by me”. “Is that why you couldn’t glamour me as well?”, I asked. “No, I think there is a different reason for that”, he said.

He gave me a look which reminded me of one I’d seen from Eric. “You don’t think I’m human”, I said quietly. “I think you are nothing but…”, Godric smiled. I sighed deeply. “I know you’re not used to talking to humans, but I need you to be little less… unclear”, I said. Godric didn’t reply, seemingly wanting me to explain. “I don’t understand what you mean by me being nothing but. If you know what I am – what it is that makes vampires unable to glamour me – then tell me”. Godric laughed softly. “I’m being perfectly clear. I believe you are as human as you possibly can be”, he said. “I sensed it the moment I smelled your blood. You are pure”. “So, there’s nothing else in me as well?”. “No. Nothing”, he said. “Then, why can’t I be glamoured?”, I asked. “Because of that very reason”, Godric replied. I still didn’t understand his words, but couldn’t think of a way to rephrase my question in a way that would get me a clearer answer.

We walked on for a few minutes. Godric didn’t seem like the type to speak more than necessary, but he seemed willing – even enthused – to speak to me. “You seemed unhappy that Eric gave me his blood”, I said. Godric frowned slightly. “When he did, it was to create a blood-bond with you, wasn’t it?”, he asked. I nodded. “When I gave you mine, it was to heal you. I admit my reason for helping you wasn’t exactly noble; but I wasn’t trying to seduce you”. I instantly blushed. “Eric isn’t really the healing kind, I suppose”, I muttered, and absentmindedly put my fingers to the fang-marks on my neck. “He’s marked you as his, even if you are not”, Godric said, a slight distaste in his voice. “He’s always been…”. “Possessive?”, I said. “Not the word I would use”, Godric smiled. “He doesn’t usually have problem sharing humans as meals or sexual partners. But when he’s set his mind on having something for himself, he is not one to give up”.

We’d come back to the house, and I pulled at some grass with my toes. “I guess he’s had many”, I said; once again without earning a response. “Humans, I mean”. “He’s had a millennium to feed on all the humans he wished; it took me 200 years to teach him how to avoid killing his prey”, Godric said. “But he has not had many he called his own. His sister was one, before she contracted the plague, and Eric brought her to me to be turned”. “Nora…”, I said. “Who was she to him?”. “Sister… lover… Vampire relationships can be many things”, Godric said. I had to keep my jaw from dropping. “You find this… wrong?”. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Your ways are just… very different”. Godric couldn’t help but laugh a little at my statement. “After more than 2000 years being what I am, your ways are also very foreign to me”, he said. “I hope to learn”.

Once we were back in the house, I chewed my lip for a moment, before getting the courage to ask my next question. “You don’t think your glamour on Thomas took?”. I didn’t want to offend the ancient deadly vampire, by calling him impotent as I had Eric. “If it didn’t, we might both have a problem”, Godric said. “What happened that night could turn out to…”. “Bite us both in the ass”, I said. “Pardon the pun”. Godric laughed again. “I understand why Eric has taken a liking to you”, he said. “Speaking of which… I did not only ask for your secrecy for my own sake, but also for his. Both Nora, Eric, and his progeny, Pam, could be in danger from the authority; if it is revealed what I did”. “I understand”, I said. Godric raised his brows at me. “You do?”, he asked disbelievingly. “No”, I admitted. “I don’t really understand your rules or… laws, or whatever”.

I tugged at the hem of my dress, to cover up some. One of the vampires that had stayed behind to clean up after the ceremony, was looking hungrily at my thighs. “I’d think helping me was a good thing, seeing as you’re trying to improve your relationship with humans”. Godric shook his head. “California is what is called a dry state. Biting a human is illegal by your laws there; and heavily frowned upon in our statutes. Though there are those of us who do not believe in following human laws, the official stance on it, is that we are to mainstream, and follow them. To add to that, I gave my ancient blood to a human that has no known value to our community”. I scoffed. “That’s me. No Value Sally”, I muttered. “Can’t even rhyme for shit”.

Godric took me by surprise, by putting a hand on my cheek. Where Eric’s touch was cool, Godric’s was in fact cold; reminding me I hadn’t seen him feed all evening. “You have more value than you can comprehend”, he said. “I admit, that if you didn’t, I might not have helped you that night. I was selfish. Your blood spoke to me – to my memory of different times – and I wanted to taste it. What that man was doing to you, would have killed you; and I would not have had the pleasure”. “You could have just waited until I was dead”, I said. “I do not require much blood to survive”, Godric said, and removed his hand from my cheek. “But what I take, I prefer to be from live, willing donors. I did not wish to make our encounter different. I don’t wish to kill any human”. “What would happen to you, if it came out what happened?”, I asked. “Usually, the vampire that committed the crime would be defanged. In my case – with my age and knowledge of our laws – the punishment would be much more severe; to set an example”. “True death”, I whispered. Godric nodded solemnly.

The vampire who had been admiring my thighs, stepped forwards, and bowed his head to Godric. “Sheriff, your meeting with 16 is in an hour”. Godric nodded. “Liv… Thank you for speaking with me”. I shrugged embarrassedly. “You didn’t really get anything from me. I mostly just asked you questions”. “Your conversation and bluntness has been a gift in itself”, Godric smiled. “Let me walk you out to the car”.

Eric had left behind the sedan for me; probably having flown back to the hotel himself. “Can I ask you one final question?”, I said to Godric, as we stood in front of it in the driveway. He didn’t respond, which I took as a yes. “Why would Eric and Pam be in danger from knowing about what happened? And Nora, if she’s a part of the Authority…?”. Godric frowned slightly. “Eric would be obligated to turn me in to the Authority”, he said. “And he’d feel honor-bound to me to not do so. At one point or another, the truth will come out; and if he is revealed to know of my crime, he’d be sentenced alongside me. He would fight, and he would die. Pamela would go down along-side him… And Nora… Having a criminal maker, could take away her position as chancellor”.

I got into the limo, and gave Godric a final smile. “I’ll stay quiet”, I said. “To protect Eric”, Godric said. I frowned. “Yes… But also, for you”, I said. “You saved my life. I owe you”. “You already paid me back”, Godric smiled. “You let me have your blood”. “Still… Thank you”. Godric nodded in response, and closed the door of the limo.

I sunk down into my seat, and sighed heavily. Eric would want answers when I returned to the hotel.

---

Pam had sent me a message, letting me know to go to a conference room in the hotel. I quickly changed into more conservative clothes – the tight pants and top I’d planned on wearing for the party the night before – and grabbed a quick dinner of a granola-bar from the mini-fridge; before rushing to meet up with her and Eric. They were already seated by a long table; and Eric gave me an approving once over, before nodding for me to stand by the other humans by the wall – one of them being Javier, who’s cheeks were pinker than they’d been the night before. Though disgruntled about being placed in the corner like a piece of furniture – again – at least I’d worn flats this time, and wouldn’t have to worry about falling over where I stood.

Around the table, two other sheriffs and their deputies were sat. One of them was Carl, and the other was a striking woman – striking, mostly due to her overbite. I wondered if her fangs stuck out like her front teeth did, when they were exposed. I must have been very obvious in my speculating – maybe due to my biting my lip – because Pam gazed up at me, and nodded. I stifled a grin.

“If you gentlemen don’t mind, I haven’t eaten all night”, Overbite said, and gestured at a nearby table set up with bottles. “I ordered TruBlood for us all”. The two other human secretaries went over to grab bottles for their bosses, and I followed in their tracks. I let my hand travel over the bottles, looking covertly back at Eric, who nodded slightly, when I got to a bottle of AB negative. Expensive taste, I thought to myself, and grabbed two bottles for him and Pam; before heading back to them, to set them down. I didn’t get a thank you from either vampire, but felt Eric’s hand ghost the back of my thigh, sending shivers down my spine. I went back to stand by the wall.

“Let’s keep this short and sweet, shall we?”, Carl said. “I have some Argentinian twins waiting in my room”. “Well, you were the one to call for this meeting between our areas; why don’t you start it off?”, Overbite said. “Relax, Rose”, Carl said. “It’s nothing as serious as that”. “Then what is it?”, Eric said. Carl sat back in his chair. “My salons”, he said. “I’m thinking of branching out into other states. Specifically, Louisiana and Florida. Humans in your states seem very keen on getting the right… shade”. For a moment, I stood in confusion. “There are enough spas in Florida as it is”, Overbite – or Rose – said. My jaw almost dropped to the floor, when I realized Carl handled in tanning-salons. It struck me as quite counter-productive for a vampire. “We do spray tans as well”, Carl said. “Quite popular among local vampires in California”. Pam seemed intrigued for a moment.

“What’s in it for us?”, Eric said. “Half off on treatments”, Carl smiled. “You could do well to freshen up that pasty Scandinavian hue”. Pam laughed in the sarcastic was only she could. “You want to impose on Eric’s territory without paying for the privilege?”, she said. “Fat chance”. Eric gave Pam a short look, and she sat back in her chair; taking a sip from her bottle of TruBlood. “I take 50 percent, or co-ownership of all vampire businesses in Area 5”, he said. Now I knew where his money came from. “Same for me”, Rose said. Carl shook his head. “That’s out of the question”. “Then this meeting is over”, Eric said, and made to stand.

“20 percent”, Carl said. Eric halted. “40”, he retorted. Carl grimaced. “25…”. Eric smiled overbearingly. “30. And 10 percent ownership”, he said. “Carl, there’s never been a vampire business in Area 5 that has survived its first month; without my support”. “Because you’ve had the buildings burned down”, Rose said, raising a brow at him. Eric shrugged.

Carl clenched his jaw, before slamming his fist into the table. “Fine… But you handle finding locations”, he said. “Already have a few in mind”, Eric smiled. “Send your plans to my email. We’ll be in touch”. So, vampires had email addresses; I realized. “Will do”, Carl said, his expression turning back to smiling. “Rose?”. The third sheriff thought for a moment. “I’m sure we could come to a similar understanding with Florida”, she said. Eric got up to stand, and Pam followed. “Well, then I guess this meeting is adjourned”.

Eric and Pam nodded at the other vampires, but Rose didn’t move. “I’d like to have another word with you Carl. If you don’t mind…”. Carl shrugged. “Of course”, he said. “But we must follow the statutes. Eric, we will need your human as witness; unless you can spare your deputy…?”. “I need Pam with me. We have Area 2 coming up”. The other vampires nodded.

Eric went over to stand in front of me. “I’ll see you in our suite later”, he said; before looking at me meaningfully. “Do your job”. I nodded. Eric was telling me one of the vampires he was leaving me with, would probably try to glamour me to forget what was about to be discussed. I was also about to be alone in a room with completely strange vampires – one of which had made it clear he wouldn’t mind a taste of my blood. Eric seemed to realize this himself, because he seemed reluctant to leave. “I’ll be fine”, I whispered, trying to convince the both of us. He nodded shortly, and grazed my jaw with his knuckles, before following Pam out of the room.

After a few moments, Javier checked the door to see that no one was listening in; and nodded back towards Carl and Rose, before returning to his post by the wall. “This conversation will be off the record”, Rose said. “Of course”, Carl said. “Nothing will leave this room. What can I do for you?”. Rose sat up straight in her chair. “Stan is moving for the sheriffs post in 9”, she said. “That’s no secret…”, Carl said. “And he’ll have it, after that shit Godric pulled tonight”. “Not if Isabel decides to run”, Rose said. “After her human betrayed us like he did? Not likely”, Carl scoffed. “More likely than you think. Her maker is chancellor… And she’ll continue in the track Godric has laid out”.

Both vampires looked intently at each other for a long moment. “You want me to push for Stan to win”, Carl said. “We need as many as possible to do so”, Rose nodded. “If we have enough sheriffs behind Stan, we can force the Authority to make the right choice”. “And Stan is the right choice?”. “Area 9 has sway over the surrounding areas. They follow where 9 leads”, Rose said. “Even Northman listens when Dallas speaks”. Carl chuckled, and shook his head. “Only because Godric is his maker”, he said. “And you still haven’t told me why Stan is the best candidate”.

“This is why!”, Rose growled; grabbed her bottle of TruBlood, and threw it at the wall next to me. The liquid sprayed across the wall, and on me. I made sure not to move; though my knees were shaking. “Ever since we came out into the open among the humans, we have been living like culled animals. We shouldn’t have to take our nourishment from a bottle, when there are cattle walking about; fresh for the reaping!”. Humans were the cattle, I gathered. “That is a dangerous opinion to have in the open”, Carl said. “And feeding from willing humans isn’t illegal”. “Human law should not apply to us!”, Rose snarled. “It’s demeaning to let them consider themselves our equals… When I want to feed, I feed. You don’t ask the cow whether it wants to be butchered!”. There she went with the cattle references again. I was beginning to feel a knot growing in my stomach, and kept my eyes hard on a speck of the spilt TruBlood, on the toe of my shoe.

“You think making Stan a sheriff will make a difference in that matter?”, Carl asked. “He will set the tone for a different relationship with the humans”, Rose said. “And as I said, where Dallas leads…”. “The surrounding areas follow”, Carl said. “That won’t change the stance taken by the Authority on vampire/human relations”. “Fuck the Authority!”.

Carl’s jaw dropped. “Rose… that is treason”. Rose clenched her jaw; a strangely amusing sight, due to her overbite. “What are they good for, anyway? All they do is sit and drum out guidelines and rules they don’t even follow themselves”. She leaned forwards. “Once we’ve gotten Stan elected, I say we create our own set of rules for all of the southern states”. “You’re talking civil war…”, Carl said. The other vampire shrugged. “If it comes to that”.

Carl seemed to shrink in his seat a bit; his flamboyant demeanor no where to be found. “I don’t know if we’re on the same page”, he said. Rose gazed over at Javier. “You can’t be serious… Don’t tell me warm dick is clouding your judgement”, she said. I was finding it harder and harder to keep my composure; I wanted to run screaming from the room. I noticed Javier swallowing hard next to me. “Leave Javi’ out of this”, Carl said. “I wouldn’t dream of touching your pet”.

The two vampires were quiet for another moment, before Rose spoke again. “We have an opportunity to create a new future for our kind. I’m just asking you to stand on the right side of history. You know I’m right; you have always been one to take what you wanted. It’s in our nature”. “We’re not animals”, Carl said. “No, but we could be gods; if we just take what is ours”, Rose said. “I’ll give you some time to think it over, but you should know, the wheels are in motion; whatever happens from the Authorities side. We want to keep this civil, but if they make the wrong choice, we do have a contingency plan. We’re not going to sit idly by, as Isabel drags the south into the mud along with the blood-bags Godric calls allies”. “And if Godric doesn’t step down? If he runs for another term, he will be chosen”, Carl said. “He won’t… even if he does, we have ways to take him down”. “Like what?”.

A smile ghosted Rose’s face. “You know as well as me, that sheriff Godric isn’t as squeaky clean as he pretends to be… He has been breaking a few laws himself”. She knew. She might not know the human Godric had broken the laws for was me, but she knew what he’d done. “We’re past that, Rose…”, Carl said. “Are we?”, she smiled. “Talk to Stan… Let him at least try to convince you”. Carl got up to stand. “I’ll talk to Stan”, he said. “For now, I have another meeting”. Rose nodded, and got up herself. “We will need to glamour Northman’s human. You go on, I’ll take care of it”.

After Carl, his deputy, and Javier left the room, Rose walked over to me. I kept my eyes on the floor, until she was right up in my face. “Look at me”, she said. I let my eyes meet hers. “Liv… isn’t it?”. “Yes”, I said. “Liv… You smell… different”. Her fangs popped out, and as I’d figured, they stuck out along with her front teeth. I bit my tongue too keep from giving away the amusement that was mixing with my fear – a confusing mixture of emotions, honestly. I worked hard to let my eyes go blank. “You just heard two vampires discuss business, didn’t you…?”. “Yes…”. “You heard us talking about how sheriff Rockford is going to set up four new spas across my Area. We only talked about that, weren’t we…?”. “Sheriff Rockford is branching out in Florida”, I said. “And then we toasted in TruBlood, that you served us. But you were clumsy, and dropped a bottle; making it spray all over the room, and on yourself”. “I was clumsy…”, I breathed. “That was all we spoke about”. “Yes…”. Rose patted my cheek. “Good girl. Now run along”.

I left the room as quickly as I could.

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #eric northman smut #true blood

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only-here-for-jatp · 4 years

Text

Don’t Take My Spot!

A new Juke friendship fluffy one-shot posted in my This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things Series. It features Hesitant!Luke, cuddle piles, and pillow fights.

It’s about 3 thousand words.

Read it on Ao3 Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26881345

And also below.

It’d been a week since the show at the Orpheum where Julie saved the boys and gained the ability to touch them. She couldn’t really tell who was most excited about everything that had happened since then.

It could’ve been Carlos who immediately started bonding with the boys upon confirmation of their existence. Alex and him would watch tv shows together, sprawled out on the couch, and chatting even though Carlos still could not see or hear Alex. Reggie and Carlos would play video games and somehow the added competition of being able to mess with each other’s controllers without intervention added a level of difficulty to their racing games. Luke and Carlos engaged in some new pranks and Julie admittedly had been ready to kill both of them when she woke up to the sound of her least favorite song blaring through her alarm at 3 am on Saturday Morning.

Reggie was definitely in the running for the most excited since everybody agreed that with the new development it was time to tell Ray about the new additions to their family. Surprisingly enough, Ray took it in stride. He’d been a little suspicious once she started to get a good look at their faces, after all Rose hadn’t been the only Sunset Curve fan in the house. He figured his daughter would let him in when she was ready, and he’d been anxious to meet the boys himself. He took time to bond with all of them, but he had a huge soft spot for his eternal companion Reggie. To say Reggie was thrilled would be an understatement and it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate the two.

It could’ve been the band in general who was most thrilled about the new arrangement. They were tactile ghosts after all and preferred to have as much contact with each other as possible at all times. Now that they could add their additional band member to the list, there was rarely a moment when at least one ghost boy wasn’t touching her. They’d even started popping into school in the middle of the day just so they could be in contact and do whatever version of a nap ghosts were capable of. Luke had been the touchiest of all of them, but more than just being in contact with her for longer he would touch her differently than her other band mates. He’d play with her hands or hair or slide his hand across her back when he moved behind her at the piano or in the kitchen.

They still hadn’t addressed whatever was between them and besides their tight hug the night of the Orpheum they hadn’t been that close or… intimate. It wasn’t quite avoidance, more like hesitation on both sides. She knew that she was just as bad as he was, but somehow her brain still wondered if she’d imagined everything between them. Maybe he didn’t feel anything.

It didn’t really matter though, because she was just as excited as her boys to be able to reach out and touch them. She’d been so worried about them disappearing, it meant everything to her that she could reach out and physically reassure herself that they were here and okay. She loved the group hugs she could get before heading off to school or playing with Reggie’s hair as they sat and watched Luke and Alex’s antics, or being able to hold Alex’s hand when he was feeling anxious. She tried not to think about all the ways she could touch Luke, but when she had a bad day at school being able to lean on him, literally, went a long way to improving her day. Yeah, everyone was thrilled about the changes going on and the band had started Saturday Night Band Bonding. This week they were having a movie night, Julie was showing them some of the classics they’d missed since 1995. They’d put a projector in the studio and rearranged the furniture to make a mattress comfy pile in the center.

Alex had arguably claimed the center since he was the one who would be most invested in the movies and paying the most attention. Which brought protests from Reggie who settled on his left, but they were weak protests since he almost always fell asleep whenever they put on a movie. Julie ended up settled to Alex’s right, she’d seen all of these and was excited to watch her boys’ faces light up. Luke was running late for whatever reason, which was unfortunate for him since his friends had decided to take up most of the cuddly surfaces.

Luke poofed in and pouted at the sight. “Hey! Where’s my spot?”

The three just looked up at him and laughed. “Guess you shouldn’t have been late!”

Luke walked up to Reggie nudging him a little with his foot and giving him his best puppy eyes. Reggie stared into his face for a second before shaking his head and curling up deeper into his spot. “Not a chance dude.”

Luke started to walk over to Alex but was stopped short when Alex called out, “Has it ever worked before?” Luke sighed and turned his gaze to Julie. Alex chuckled at the obvious resignation. Both Reggie and Alex glanced over to Julie, interested to see how this was going to turn out.

“Molina, you won’t leave me without a spot, will you?” His voice was soft, and he was giving her a little grin. Trying to charm her, but also almost a little afraid of succeeding. “You won’t turn me away right Jules?”

Julie knew she was done for the second he turned his sights on her, but she thought she could make him work for it a little. However, at the soft sound of his nickname for her she gave in scooching down so he could sit at the top of the spot she claimed. It wasn’t a lot of space, but she gave him a small smirk and said “Take it or leave it.” She followed it up with a serious glare and added “Just don’t take my spot”.

His smile lit up the room as he sat cross-legged near her head. Alex and Reggie turned back to face the screen with small smiles since they knew, he would take whatever Julie would give him. Soon the movie started, and they all settled in for their marathon.

Julie felt a little jittery at first with the cute boy she had a crush on sitting so close to her, but as she became more engaged in the movie and how her band lit up at the sight of HSM she relaxed. At some point she needed to find a new spot in her soft things pile and ended up stretching her arms above her head. She’d momentarily forgotten Luke was there until her hands hit his knees and she blushed before pulling her hands back towards her head. That little touch had sent a surprisingly sharp shockwave through her and she was desperate to pretend she was nonchalant.

A few minutes passed before she even knew he realized what happened, but slowly his hands moved from his lap to toy with hair a little bit. Running his fingers through it. She could feel herself relaxing even as her heart tensed. It felt nice and it took everything in her to keep her gaze on the movie and not search out his eyes.

It was about halfway through the movie and his soft movements through her hair had lulled her into a sense of peace. Slowly his hands traveled from moving through her hair to toying with her fingertips and she felt her sharp intake of breath. She still stubbornly watched the screen as if, if she called attention to what he was doing she would spook him. Her heart was pounding, and she never knew she could feel so much in just her fingertips. He was tracing up and down her fingers to her palm and then moving her fingers around. She could feel the goosebumps moving up and down her arms. Hesitantly, she started moving her fingertips back as if it was her body’s natural response.

She kept on, getting slightly more confident as her fingers started pressing against his and tracing back as his hands got closer. She still hadn’t looked at him, but she swore she could tell exactly which smile he was using. At one point it was almost like their fingers were playfighting and she was working hard at stifling her giggles when suddenly his finger hooked onto one of her own. This time though, he didn’t let go. It was like a mini version of handholding and she could’ve sworn her blush was visible from space.

Slowly she glanced upwards only to be caught in his eyes. He’d been staring at her and his eyes were warm, filled with awe and light and maybe a little surprise. She watched his small smile spread and his hands moved to capture more of her fingers, never losing eye contact as he did so. She returned the smile with just as much awe and surprise, but also maybe a little nervousness. He seemed to sense it, smiling even bigger before turning his attention back to the movie. She glanced back at the movie and felt him gently pulling her hands into his lap and moving so there was no question anymore about whether or not they were holding hands.

They spent the rest of the movie like that until the lights came on to find the controller and put on the second movie. They both had jerked apart with sheepish smiles attempting to keep whatever just happened for themselves without their band mates finding out. As Julie got up to switch out the movie, she watched Luke’s smile turn into something more devious and she made sure to remind him- “Don’t take my spot.”

He just grinned at her and waited until her back was turned before scooching down a little and repositioning, so his legs were open in a V rather than crossed. Julie turned around and gave him a hard look, not buying his innocent act for a second. At the sight of her look he let out a low chuckle and responded, “Just getting more comfortable, is this okay?” She nodded and moved to lay back down in her spot except this time between his legs.

The lights went out and the movie started. She wondered if he would reach for her hands again, but she hadn’t put them back towards her hair. Should she move them up so they were more within his reach and available? But what if he didn’t grab them again? She started to squirm as her thoughts jumbled and she ended up rolling over to her side and using his leg as a pillow. It was… surprisingly comfortable. And she scooched a little bit up toward him so she could find a comfier spot on his leg for her head. She glanced at him briefly, discovering it was his turn to blush and stubbornly stare at the movie.

A silent giggle escaped her as she moved her hand to wrap around his leg, near her face. She was settled in quite comfortable with the new arrangement when she felt one of his hands back in her hair. This time she managed to keep her breathing steady although she could’ve sworn time stopped for a brief moment when he did that. He gently pushed a curl behind her ear before he traced his fingers down her back. Softly his fingers started tracing circles and rubbing up and down her back and she could feel the small hum in her chest as her body relaxed into his touch.

Somehow, she felt more than heard his small chuckle at her response and soon his other hand had found the one on his leg and was squeezing it in an attempt to convey how comfortable he found their arrangement too. Julie could tell he was gazing at her and she looked up to give him a small smile and a squeeze of his hand back before returning her attention to the movie.

As the movie progressed Julie scooched deeper and deeper into Luke. It was instinctual more than intentional, and she hadn’t realized just how close she’d gotten until her head was literally in his lap and he could nearly lean over and whisper comments about the movie in her ear. Which he did.

Luke marveled at his luck as the girl he adored kept moving closer and closer to him and slowly his hands had moved until they were clasped together at her waist, wrapping her up entirely with him. The movie was long forgotten as he soaked himself in her touch and the warmth building in his chest as he watched her go through all the emotions that were stirring inside him. He never wanted to let go of this beautiful magical girl that he couldn’t help but watch and admire.

His bandmates had been shooting him knowing glances and smiles ever since they caught him playing with her hair during the first movie. They would be teasing him so much later, but he figured holding this precious angel in his arms was well worth whatever was coming. As she scooched closer though, he started getting hints of jealousy in the boys’ eyes. They were so tactile, and it wasn’t fair that Luke was getting special Julie cuddles, he guessed. Since the start of the second movie the two had moved into their typical cuddle pile wrapping legs and arms around each other.

It was nearing the end of the movie when Julie started to drift off into sleep. She was warm and comfortable while wrapped in Luke’s arms and the weight of the world didn’t seem so heavy. A quick glance at her other bandmates revealed their cuddle pile and while she was perfectly content to be caged in by Luke, she still wanted all her boys. Slowly she reached out her arm so she could lightly tug on Alex’s shirt. He was just out of reach and that was all she could manage. Alex’s eyes quickly glanced down to the small hand gripping his shirt as if he might vanish and chuckled before shifting Reggie and his cuddle pile a little closer. Reggie reached out and grabbed Julie’s hand and placed it on Alex’s stomach while Alex reached out so he could be in contact with Julie.

Luke shot a grumpy pout at the two before hugging Julie tighter and whispering in her ear, teasing her lightly “Am I not enough for you Julie?” hearing the playfulness in his tone she shot him a sleepy look and said “jealous?” His eyes lit a little at that as he remembered Nick, but jealous of his brothers? Of his band? “Nah” he whispered back at her.

The movie ended soon after their little conversation and despite the fact that she was more asleep than awake Julie insisted on putting the third movie on. After a puppy dog look of her own the boys agreed and Luke stood up to put the movie on. He slowly shifted out from under Julie, melting a little at her grumbling protests. When he returned though he discovered Julie curled up into Alex’s side, his arm wrapped around her and her arm wrapped across Alex and Reggie.

He smiled at the sight of his three favorite people in the world all wrapped up in a contented ball of limbs and warmth. Sinking down into the spot Julie vacated, he scooched closer to curl up behind her, burying his head in her curls. At this point, he wasn’t even sure Julie was awake, but much to his surprise he discovered she was. At the feel of him behind her, she rolled over still wrapped in Alex’s arm but leaning into Luke and entangling her limbs in his.

Everything in him was happy. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so peaceful and content and a quick glance at his boys let him know they felt the same. Luke could feel Julie’s breath on his neck as she tucked her head under his, using one of his arms as a pillow. He let that hand reach out to Alex, wanting to be connected with his boys too. Alex’s arm stay curled around Julie’s front and Luke’s other arm went to wrap around her back. He traced circles there until Reggie’s fingers found his and they linked up still pressed against Julie’s back. The band was all connected like one big spider web.

They finished the remainder of the movie like that, frequently unable to tell where one of them ended and the other began. It was perfect they all thought until the end credits rolled and Julie’s eyes wrenched themselves open. She was glaring at Luke, but not with any real heat behind it. “Wait a second.” She exclaimed. “You stole my spot!”

Luke sputtered at the accusation, “But you- and cuddles- and really?” He was so busy attempting to explain how it really wasn’t his fault that he missed the pillow coming at it him until it hit him in the face. “Oh it’s on Molina.” A pillow fight ensued between Julie and Luke with him winning until Alex and Reggie came to her defense. It was quickly a free for all once again however, and probably would’ve continued on for much longer except Luke accidentally sent a pillow flying. It knocked all the DVD case off the table and narrowly missed the projector. Julie sighed. “This is why we can’t have nice things.” She managed to get out before collapsing into a fit of giggles. Luke looked sheepish at his error, tossing his weapon aside and lying beside Julie before dissolving into giggles himself. The other two soon joined and upon resuming their cuddle pile, Julie once again drifted back into sleep. They boys snuggled in closer, vowing to protect her and adore her as they settled in for the rest of the night.

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke #cuddles #pillow fight

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makercursed-a · 6 years

Text

A more comprehensive overview of Hawke’s dai companion verse. It’s mostly used in AUs where the Inquisitor is someone Hawke cares about (i.e. @vigilflight‘s bethquisitor au) but if other Inquisitors want to use it, then we’ll say Hawke came out of hiding early because she heard Varric had been kidnapped by Cassandra and was near the Temple when it exploded. She tracked rumours of him to Haven, and decided getting herself arrested or killed would probably be worth it to find out if Varric was safe/rescue him if need be.

RECRUITMENT

Not long after the start of the game, a cutscene plays when the Inquisitor returns to Haven from whatever quests they’ve been doing. There’s a huge commotion happening by the gates. Upon investigating, the Inquisitor will find Hawke flanked by Inquisition soldiers, yelling at Cullen and demanding to see Varric/the Inquisitor.

The Inquisitor can then attempt to calm Hawke down. If they’re someone she cares about then she’ll instantly relax and tell them how glad she is that they’re alive, and ask if they need help getting away from all this shit. If they’re not one of her friends, she’ll demand to see Varric and ask bluntly if he’s being kept prisoner. The Inquisitor can choose to get Varric, in which case he and Hawke will embrace, and he’ll call her an idiot for putting her life on the line to come find him.

Hawke, once calmed down, can either be recruited into the Inquisition (you’re here now, and we could use your help) sent away (you’re too dangerous to be here) or arrested (it’s time you answered for what you did in Kirkwall). If arrested she’ll be sent to Orlais for trial, but a war table mission will later say that she murdered the soldiers accompanying her, escaped and has not been seen since. Josie will ask allies to look out for her, Cullen will send forces after her, and Leliana will send her spies. None of the agents sent to look for her will return to the Inquisition. Varric will not bring her to Skyhold for Here Lies the Abyss, and instead the Inquisitor has to meet her at a hiding spot on the Wounded Coast. She agrees to help, but threatens the Inquisitor not to try any shit.

If recruited, at Haven she can be found on the training ground, and at Skyhold on the rampart/towery bit she’s usually found at pre-Here Lies the Abyss

APPROVAL/DISAPPROVAL

Allying the mages will cause Hawke to greatly approve, conscripting them will cause her to slightly disapprove. Likewise allying the Templars will cause her to greatly disapprove, and disbanding them will cause slight approval.

In Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts she approves of Briala and Celene ruling together, or Briala ruling through Gaspard. She disproves of a truce between the three of them, celene ruling alone, or Gaspard ruling alone. She approves of stabbing Florianna right there on the dance floor

Her opinion on who drinks from the well depends on her relationship with the Inquisitor. For a high approval inquisitor she will approve of Morigan drinking from the well, otherwise there will be no approval change

Generally speaking she approves of pro-mage, anti-circle and anti-chantry sentiments. She approves of blunt honesty, aggressive or violent dialogue to people threatening the Inquisition or generally being idiots, she also approves of helping ordinary people, and dealings with criminals such as lyrium smugglers.

Generally speaking she dislikes of anti-mage, pro-circle, pro-templar or pro-chantry sentiments. She also dislikes lying, being too diplomatic rather than dealing with problems head on, being too lawful good, and being flirted with by a male Inquisitor.

During the Inquisitor being named, she will approve of the “I will lead to do what’s right” “a mage/qunari/dwarf/elf will lead us all” options, and disagree with the “for personal power” or “holy calling” options

Dialogue options asking her about Anders, or Kirkwall may cause approval or disapproval depending on what exactly the Inquisitor says about it all

If Hawke’s approval reaches low enough she will leave. After a final argument with the Inquisitor in a cutscene, the Inquisitor can then go to her usual spot to find a note saying that while she wants Corephyeus dead as much as the next person, she will not and cannot support the Inquisitor. She will warn that she will not hesitate to lead forces against the Inquisition if it comes to that, and that if the Inquisitor dares hurt Varric then she’ll find out about it, and she’ll come for them

SMALL PERSONAL QUEST: FAMILY BUSINESS

The “Family Business” war table missions will concern Hawke’s cousin Charade Amell and her work with the Red Jenny’s. Charade is in need of supplies and allies to help keep the little people of Kirkwall safe. If Charade is helped Hawke will approve, and Sera will also slightly approve.

MAIN PERSONAL QUEST: CITY OF CHAINS

After the first “Annexing Kirkwall” mission comes through on the war table the Inquisitor can talk to Hawke about it in a cutscene. Hawke will say some very unflattering thing about Sebastian, before asking the Inquisitor to help her put an end to this once and for all

The Inquisitor then has the option to send a letter to Sebastian saying that The Champion of Kirkwall wishes to meet him personally to discuss the future of Kirkwall, and hopefully put an end to the fighting there. Sebastian will send a letter back agreeing to the meeting.

A location will then open on the map for the Inquisitor to accompany Hawke to meet Sebastian for a “diplomatic meeting to settle their differences.”

Once they travel to the location they will be attacked by soldiers from Starkhaven. Once the soliders were dead, Sebastian will come forward after a few minutes and say that he did not order the soldiers to attack, and regrets that there has already been bloodshed, Hawke will say quite frankly that she doesn’t believe him. The Inquisitor then has the option to talk to Sebastian about his point of view, the destruction of Kirkwall Chantry, and the role Anders played in it. Sebastian will then ask Hawke to tell him Ander’s location in return for him leaving Kirkwall alone. Hawke will tell him to fuck off

The Inquisitor can then:

persuade Hawke to tell Sebastian where she last saw Anders in order to save the lives of people in Kirkwall, causing Hawke to greatly disapprove.

Allow Hawke to hide Anders’ location, but allow Sebastian to continue with the annex of kirkwall, in which case Hawke will greatly disapprove

Convince Sebastian that it’s more important for the Inquisition to be an ally of Starkhaven, and offer him the Inquisition's aid in Starkhaven if he leaves Kirkwall alone. Sebastian will agree to leave Kirwall, but vows to continue his search for Anders. Hawke will disapprove

Tell Sebastian that neither the Inquisition nor Hawke will help him, and that the Inquisition will do everything in it’s power to protect Kirkwall from him. Hawke will approve.

Allow Hawke to threaten Sebastian, and duel him there and then. While she will not kill him, Sebastian will leave wounded and threatening to bring the Inquisition down. Hawke will greatly approve.

BLOOD MAGIC

A little while after coming to Skyhold, the Inquisitor will be able to confront Hawke about her use of blood magic. Much like softening Leliana or taken Cullen off lyrium, from this point on the Inquisitor will be able to stop Hawke using blood magic.

A high approval Inquisitor will eventually be able to persuade her that blood magic isn’t worth the risk on her health and those around her. This is also easier to do if the Inquisitor did not allow her to fight Sebastian. Eventually Hawke will stop using it. At the end of Trespasser, if Mary is softened and persuaded to give up blood magic, it is shown that she has moved back to Kirkwall to aid in rebuilding the city, help Varric, and is working closely with the new college of enchanters.

On the other hand a low approval Inquisitor and one who encouraged her to fight Sebastian will now be able to convince her to stop using blood magic. After Trespasser she is believed to have moved to Ferelden, but everyone other than Varric soon loses contact with her as she shuts herself away from the rest of Thedas.

SPECIALISATION

Hawke’s specialisation is “Force of Nature” which combines elemental and force magic with devastating effects, as well as some physical damage from her staff. I can’t be arsed to come up with a whole skill tree, but one of the moves would be force punching the ground while pulling up shards of ice at the same time. Another would involve imbuing her staff with fire before using it to physically hit people, that kind of thing.

Force of Nature is actually a nod to some Bela dialogue in Mark of the Assassin because I love her

TAROT CARDS

Initial tarot card: The Tower, a card that represents immense change that shakes the foundations of one’s very life. The card depicts a tall Kirkwall building burning behind Hawke, who stands with her head bowed

High approval/blood magic given up tarot: Strength. Representing inner strength and the power of an individual to overcome obstacles in their life with a compassionate approach. The card depicts Hawke with her head held high, and her hand on a mabari at her side.

Low approval/blood magic continues tarot: The Devil. This card represents addiction, negativity, fear, and harmful impulses. The card depicts Hawke facing forward, with two Kirkwall slaver statues chained at her feet.

#&&. v; once we were not afraid of the night (companion)#{this took way too long rip #im so proud of the tarots tho #and lowkey want comissions of them all}#&&. meta

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Never Gonna Be Alone: Chapter 3

Title: Safe and Warm

Warnings: brief mention of child sexual abuse. Very brief.

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

“You should have gotten these looked at BEFORE you came home.”

She sits on his stomach; knee on either side of his body and a bottle of peroxide, package of cotton balls, a pair of tweezers, and a tube of healing ointment rest on his chest. With all of the kids finally settled for the night and the house tidied and every last plate, cup and piece of silverware in the dishwasher, it’s finally their turn to relax. A quick soak in the hot tub while sipping drinks; one last glass of wine for her and a coffee for him. Still damp bodies clad in bathrobes as they sat on the couch; eating ice cream straight out of the carton while relaxing in front of the heat and ambiance given off by the gas fireplace. All conversation steering clear away from anything job related. Talking instead about Christmas and all the things that still need to be done; present wrapping, last minute gift grabbing, decorating. The kids also have jam packed ‘to do’ lists; skating, seeing the tree at Rockefeller, sledding, visiting Santa and the reindeer at Central Park. Christmas Day is spent with just the nine of them; the kids playing with their gifts and spending time outside, a traditional dinner that they’ve become quite the professionals at preparing together. The following day they’ll travel into Queens and spend the day with Ovi and Riya and their little family; two ‘grandkids’ that will be loved upon and spoiled senseless. New Years is usually spent quietly at home; takeout and alcoholic beverages and entertaining the kids with board games. This year plans have changed; Ovi’s wedding at The James New York in Soho.

As exciting as the latter is and as much as he does enjoy his time in New York City -the happiness and excitement evident on his wife and children’s faces more than enough to erase any of his own discomfort- it will be nice to get home. Back to their slice of paradise; the sun and the sand and the privacy and the feeling of security that comes with owning so much land. They’ll have a second Christmas; an informal get together with friends with a cookout on the beach and a ‘Secret Santa’ gift exchange. Work will be put on the back burner; no calls or emails from clients returned until the kids go back to school, the bookstore in good hands under the supervision of the two college students Esme had hired a year ago. Business has been good; exceeding even her wildest dreams and expectations. Already a well loved staple in Cooktown; customers loving the wide array of books and magazines, the outdoor courtyard and the comfortable couches and chairs allotted for those simply there to relax. Reading their purchases or the kindles set up for free use and indulging in the variety of cold and hot drinks and baked goods. The treats are mostly prepared by Tanner who has become quite the little chef and baker; finding his ‘place’ in the kitchen and never happier than when he’s creating some kind of dish or dessert from scratch. He’s also in charge of biweekly book reviews; picking a title to read and then preparing a well written report to go along with it. He’s become quite the local celebrity because of it; fan mail arriving on the daily from kids all over town and those who may have visited during family travels.

If anyone had told Tyler thirteen years ago that he’d even still be alive, let alone living THIS life, he would have told them they were insane. Laughing off the notion at ever being a husband and a father again; too much of a mess and certainly way too much of a liability for anyone to ever take a chance on. It’s weird how quick things can change. How one chance meeting with someone as equally broken and damaged as you can change the entire course of your future. Looking at you in ways that no one has ever has; willing to take on the enormous amounts of baggage and seeing past all your faults and your rough spots and jagged edges and giving you a future you never imagined even in your wildest dreams.

“There wasn’t a reason to get them looked after. They’re just scratches; branches getting a hold of me when I was in the bush.”

“Some of them are pretty deep. And I know you tried when you were in the shower, but there’s stuff stuck in some of them. Dirt or wood or something. Aren’t they sore?”

“They’re SCRATCHES. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse.”

“They’re a mess is what they are.” She picks up the tweezers; eyes narrowing as she leans over him and plucks pieces of debris out of one of the wounds. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t things supposed to go down in the city?”

“They did. In Laos.”

“I thought it was going to be the same in Cambodia. You let me read what Anil sent you. I’m pretty sure things were supposed to happen in Phnom Penh? How’d you end up going from there into the jungle?”

“There was a change of plans.”

She smirks. “Obviously.”

“You know how it is, things don’t always go the way we want.”

“I’d say nine times out of ten, they don’t. Seriously though, your face is a wreck. You should have gotten this all cleaned up hours ago. BEFORE you got on a plane home. What if they get infected? You don’t know what’s in that jungle. They could have some crazy poisonous plant life or something. What if you got into something like THAT?”

“I think it’s safe to say we’d know something like that by now. What are you so squeamish about? You’ve seen me in worse shape.”

“Now THAT’S an understatement. Have you ever thought I just don’t like seeing you banged up and scratched up? Have you ever thought maybe I’ve had just about enough of all of that? Can’t I nurse you back to health from something else for a change? Like...I don’t know...the man flu?”

“You always complain when I get sick. That I’m too needy.”

“I have never once said you’re too needy. I have, however, complained about how whiny you get. How you come down with a head cold and act like you’re dying. How do you go through the things you have and survive what you’ve survived, and think a cold will be the cause of your demise?”

“Hey, those colds get pretty bad.”

“Worse than…” Pausing, she sits straight up and drops the tweezers onto the bed, then soaks a cotton ball with peroxide. “...you know what? I’m not even going to finish that sentence because that will only bring bad juju. Talking about all of that? Revisiting it? Nothing good will come of that. And we need good juju, don’t you think?”

“Are you drunk?”

“Who? Me? No. Maybe. Just a little. Is a whole bottle of wine for oneself considered drunk?”

“For normal people, yeah. For you…”

“Look, I had a rough day. In fact, it’s been a brutal FOUR days. And right now? Well right now, I should be getting laid. Or at the very least, have my husband going down on me. And what I’m doing? Playing nursemaid. And not in a fun, sexy way either. Not the kind of playing nursemaid that comes with little outfits and orgasms.”

He grins. “You ARE drunk.”

“I’m just saying, I had other plans for this evening and picking pieces of the Cambodian jungle out of your face wasn’t part of it.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Mmm...hmmm…”

“And I’d rather be doing other stuff too, but…”

“But the shit hit the fan and everything got fucked up and you ended up doing God knows what, doing God knows where. I’m not even going to ask how it went. I think I’m scared to hear the answer. It was obviously a dumpster fire if you went from the capital city of Cambodia to the bowels of hell.”

“There were a couple...snags.”

She returns to the task of investigating and cleaning the various scratches that mar his face and neck. “Anil let on everything went great.”

“Probably just didn’t want to worry you.”

“Was there something for me to worry about?”

“Not as far as I’m concerned. I’ve been involved in way worse things. It was pretty straight forward. Two easy hits.”

“First one went okay?”

“Exactly the way it should have.”

“Second one?”

“I thought you weren’t going to ask?”

“You don’t want me asking?”

“I don’t care if you ask. You just said you weren’t going to because you were afraid of what you might hear.”

“Do I have anything to be afraid of?”

“Esme, seriously? Do you want to know or not? It wasn’t THAT bad. I’m here, aren’t I? In one piece?”

She nods.

“It honestly wasn't that big of a disaster. Things got a little fucked up. The second one didn’t go the way it should have. I had to make some decisions; change some shit around. The Mark wasn’t where he was supposed to be. I had to find out where he was and I had to figure out how to make things work.”

“Well good thing it WAS you that Anil asked. Because it probably would have been a lot worse. At least you know what you’re doing; you can think on your feet and stay calm and focused. A change like that? That would have thrown other people off. They probably wouldn’t have been able to get the second guy. They would have been too frazzled. That kind of change would have totally thrown them off.”

“Are you speaking highly of me, wife?”

“I am. I tend to speak very highly of you. All the time. To everyone. Even when I’m picking pieces of Cambodia out of your face.” She grabs the tweezers and unceremoniously inserts the tips into a large scratch at the side of his left eye; yanking out a piece of wood. “And it’s a nice face, by the way. So I don’t particularly like you coming home all messed up.”

“Like I said, I’ve had worse.”

“I will give you that.”

They lapse into a comfortable, companionable silence; his hands resting on her thighs as she continues to work at disinfecting and cleaning the scratches and her fingertips rub wound aftercare ointment into his skin. And he admires her as she does so. That steely look of determination on her face; lips set in a thin line and her eyes slightly narrowed and her hands steady yet gentle. And she looks so beautiful in that moment; in the mixture of moonlight and the glow given off by the bedside lamps. Hair pushed into a messy ‘up sweep’; held together by various clips -colourful and unicorn themed, ‘borrowed’ from Addie’s room- and bobby pins. Her face freshly cleaned and scrubbed; bearing the lingering scent of the grapefruit and pomegranate body wash she’d fallen in love with months ago. Clad in what she considers pyjamas; a faded and slightly tattered plaid button down shirt he’d worn during their Colorado days that is enormous on her tiny frame.

It’s been just over twelve years. Since he’d first laid eyes on her; standing on his front porch in The Kimberley in her little denim shorts and that yellow tank top that clung to her like a second skin. He’d known right away that he was in trouble; feeling things he hadn’t felt in a hell of a long time when she so much glanced in his direction and offered a small, almost nervous smile. And it would take him nearly ten years to admit what she’d probably known not long after their initial meeting: that his heart was hers from the very first day.

“You’re beautiful.” He says now, and a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

“Are YOU drunk?”

“I haven’t drank in five years. I’m truthful.”

“Maybe your eyesight is worse than you think,” she teases, and dabs a peroxide dampened cotton ball against the scratches on his forehead.

“Or maybe you just hate compliments. Even twelve years into things.”

“You know I don’t handle compliments well. Even now. I know that doesn’t make sense, considering we HAVE been together that long and you’re the master of compliments and sweet talk, but that’s just who I am. It’s just me.”

“I will break you yet.”

“You’ve been trying for over a decade. Same way you’ve been trying to make an honest woman out of me.”

“Come on, at least give me THAT. At least admit THAT was successful.”

“Fine…” she leans down to peck his lips. “I’ll let you have your small victories. You’re still going out tomorrow? With Tanner?”

He nods. “It’s our thing.”

“He’s so excited. He’s been talking about it non stop since we got here. Apparently he’s been writing a lot. He’s got A LOT to show you.”

“Yeah, he told me. Something about crazy dreams he’s been having. He’s so fucking smart, Me. Way smarter than I am. He’s got your brain pan for sure.”

“He is far more intelligent than I ever was at that age. His brain is just...I don’t know. It’s beautiful and it’s brilliant. And it’s kind of scary at the same time. I mean, he’s only ten. And look where he’s at. Not even a special school is a big enough challenge for him. He is so far ahead of all of those kids. What happens when he’s too far ahead? When that place doesn’t have what he needs anymore? Then what? He’s already reading at a high school senior level. And his math? His science? You’ve seen his marks. They’ve got him doing things that fourteen and fifteen year olds are learning. And he’s passing it all with flying colours. Soon they’re not going to have what he needs. What then?”

“We find somewhere else.”

“Where? There’s nothing where we are. And we’re not moving. We just aren’t. We’ve put way too much into that house and that land. And we love it too much. So do the kids. We can’t upset their lives like that.”

“We’ll figure something out. We’ll find something. Someone. There’s always a way, right? Isn’t that what you always tell me? Where there’s a will, there’s a way?”

“When I told you that I wasn’t expecting to have a genius child on my hands. And I know it sounds like I’m bitching. That it sounds like I’m not proud of him.”

“It doesn’t sound like that, Me. At all.”

“Because I am. Proud of him. He’s insanely smart and he’s beautiful and he’s just this incredible little being that I don’t feel I even deserve. But I’m scared. For him. Because he isn’t like everyone else. He never has been. And I know we should celebrate that and celebrate who he is and nurture it and encourage it. But it fucking terrifies me. Someone like Tanner out in the real world. Because he’s NOT like us. Or his brothers and sisters. Or ninety five percent of society. He’s sensitive and he’s kind and he has this huge heart. And I’m scared what’s going to happen to him. Just for being who he is.”

“He’s ten, Me. We have years before we have to worry about anything like that. It’s going to be a long time before he’s out of the house. He’s smart as hell, but you’re right; he’s not like everyone else. Maturity wise? He’s a lot younger. He’s not ten in a lot of ways. He’s going to be with us for a bit. Longer than the rest of them.”

“I just don't want him hating who he is. I don’t want him growing up and hating himself. He’s already told you that. About how he doesn’t like his brain and how it works. How he doesn’t like being different.”

“That’s mostly when he’s pissed that he can’t do the things that TJ does. Or because he’s so much smaller. He has his moments; where he wishes he was like his brother. Didn’t you have moments like that growing up? Wishing you could be someone different?”

“Of course. We all do. I’m sure you did.”

“Fuck, practically every damn day. He’s going to be fine, Me. He’s just a little boy. And he’ll be a little boy in some ways for longer. It is what it is. He’ll be okay. So will we.”

“You are so much better at this than I am,” Esme laments, and tends to screwing the cap onto the peroxide and moving all of the supplies and tools to the mattress. “You’re so much better with him. You have been since the very beginning. Who was the strong one when we got the diagnosis? Who was the one that DIDN’T go into a severe depression and the seven stages of grief? I mean, we suspected it and I STILL had a hard time. I’m his mother. And I struggled then and I’m struggling now. What kind of parent does that? FEELS that?”

“One that loves their kid more than life itself. Who worries about them and is scared for them because they know how fucking cruel the world can be.”

“You’ve just been so much better than I have. You’ve handled it better. Me? I’m just a mess. And not a hot one either.”

“I think you’re way too hard on yourself. You’re a good mom. You’re an amazing mom. Just because you’re having a hard time with this doesn’t mean you’re a shitty parent. Just means you love him.”

“I do. Love him. He’s my Nugget. And I hate that he struggles. That he doubts himself. That he shit talks himself sometimes.”

“Gee, I wonder where he gets THAT from.”

Smirking, she picks up the tweezers and points them at him. “Don’t make me stick these in your eye.”

“I’m just saying…” he plucks the instrument from her hand and tosses it onto the bedside table, then reaches up to push loose strands of her away from her face. “...he does get some things from you. And you do like to shit talk yourself.”

“I’m working on it.”

“For the last twelve years?”

“So I’m a slow learner. Slow and steady wins the race, right? Why are you like this?”

His calloused palms rest on the sides of her face; thumbs brushing along the tops of her cheekbones. “Like what?”

“So good to me. Why are you like that?”

“Oh I don’t know, Me. Might have to do with the fact that you’re my wife and the mother of my children. My SEVEN children. And maybe...just maybe...it has something to do with the fact that I’m wildly and crazily in love with you.”

“Still? Even after twelve years?”

“Even MORE after twelve years. More and more every day, actually.”

“God I love you,” she declares, then stretches out along his body and buries her face in the favourite place of hers; the warm nook between neck and shoulder. “I love you so much. More than I could ever tell you.”

Pressing a kiss to her temple, he wraps both arms around her slender body. “Ditto.”

She laughs at his response; placing a kiss to the sensitive spot below his ear and then pushes her fingers through his hair. It’s longer now. Often messy and often unruly; sides and back no longer shaved right down to the skin. She claims it’s her second favourite look of his; liking the fact that there’s something to ‘grab onto’ during more intimate moments.

He feels the tickle or her lashes as her eyes flicker closed, followed by the long, content sigh that she releases. And for several long minutes they lay in silence, one of his hands moving up to comb through her hair, the other slipping under the hem of her shirt; knuckles repeatedly skimming up and down her spine.

“Me?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is muffled against the side of his neck.

“Don’t take this the wrong way. I really DO like snuggling with you and all that. But right now? Right now I’m really horny and I really want to fuck.”

Laughing, she playfully tugs on his hair and pulls back to look at him. “Husband, you’re nothing if not brutally honest.”

“Wanna have sex?”

Grinning, she leans in to press a kiss to his lips. “Actually,” she says. “I do.”

****

They lay in a tangled mess of wrinkled sheets and sweaty limbs; listening to the wind that rattles the windows and the soft patter of ice pellets and snow against the glass. Both on their sides with her back tucked into his front; her nails lightly and repeatedly skimming along the forearm that rests just under her breasts. His breath is warm against the nape of her neck and she enjoys the different sensations against her skin; the juxtaposition of soft, moist lips and the roughness of his beard. He wears it much shorter now; neatly trimmed and groomed and a far cry from the ‘lumberjack days’ when they’d lived in Colorado. Back when his body was thicker; extra weight around the middle and his muscles more bulky. He’s much more defined now. Tall and lean and athletic; broad shoulders and wide back, a sharp cut to his waist and beautifully detailed abs.

Forty seven years old and he’s in the best shape he’s ever been; a near mirror image of what he’d looked like at thirty five when they’d first met. She remembers that day well. Glancing up from where she’d crouched down on the porch to shower attention on his dog and finding those blue eyes riveted on her; intense and electric and filled with both curiosity and thinly veiled annoyance. He wasn’t used to company, and certainly didn’t seem to like the idea of a complete stranger being brought straight to his doorstep.

Nik had told her just the bare minimum; ex special forces, a host of personal baggage and addiction issues, intense and withdrawn at his best. But word travels when you’re in the ‘circle’; the job a relatively tight knit considering the amount of people caught up in it and the number of countries that are serviced. She’d heard the stories; tales of fearlessness and brutality and exceptional skills. And while she’d thought Nik’s idea was ridiculous and that it would never work, she’d been intrigued as well; wanting to put a face to the name and to all the rumours and the whispers she’d been subjected to. Other than his towering height and those muscles that strained under the sleeves of his shirt and the host of tattoos and scars, he hadn’t been that intimidating; offering just a brief twitch of the lips in lieu of a smile, his hand engulfing hers when he quickly and willing shook it in greeting. There was something welcoming about him despite the lack of conversation; opening up a little as soon as Nik stepped outside and offering her a drink. Those eyes ever so slightly sparkling and a small smirk on his lips when she’d downed the glass of scotch; making a comment about being surprised a ‘wee thing like her’ could handle her liquor so well and then pouring her another. Even chuckling a little when she’d commented on his place of residence; modest and simple, a chicken probably a far better roommate than any human she’d ever shared living quarters with.

Things had actually started during the two day stay just outside of Dhaka; a high end hotel that Nik had procured for final team meetings and strategy sessions. Meeting up -by sheer chance and not by plan- at the establishment's bar; sharing both a table out on the patio and pitcher of beer and tray full of tequila shots. There’d also been a kiss. Or, as close to a kiss as you could get. When he’d walked her back to her room and they’d stood in the hallway; slightly inebriated and suddenly somewhat anxious and nervous around each other. Dinner had been casual and comfortable. He’d smiled and even laughed and teased her about being a total enigma; so small and delicate looking despite her time in the Corps and having such a reputation for being tenacious and no nonsense. They had shared stories of growing up in Colorado and Australia and he’d been relatively talkative; either encouraged by her own openness and chattiness or the mixture of the booze he’d consumed and the meds he’d taken. Yet suddenly they were both at a loss for words and things seemed awkward and uncomfortable, and she’d stuttered and stammered while asking him if he’d like to join her inside and then furiously blushing when he’d exactly accepted.

She can still remember what it had felt like; when she’d drunkenly teetered and stumbled when attempting to unlock her door and his arm had curled around her waist to keep her on her feet. His body had been warm and solid against hers; breath hot and moist on the back of her neck. His eyes had been locked on hers when she turned to face him, heart hammering in her chest as he leaned in to kiss her. It had been a long time since she’d been with a man. Even something so simple as a kiss. And it had been even longer since she’d wanted someone that badly; physically aching and desperate to feel his hands and his mouth on her.

But it had never happened. In a brief moment of clarity, he’d backed away. Doing nothing more than pushing her hair behind her ears before backing away.

“I can’t do this,” he’d said. “I can’t do this to you.”

They never spoke of that moment again. Not even when things had crossed that line in Dhaka. It’s been just over twelve years and neither have brought it up. It didn’t matter anymore; the awkwardness they’d felt, the glimmer of life that she’d seen in his eyes, the words that he’d uttered. Things had changed. Drastically. Marriage and children and a somewhat happily ever after.

His free arm slips between her and the mattress. Coming to rest along her collarbone; fingers splayed over the top of her right breast, thumb repeatedly brushing along the hollow of her throat. “You alright?”

Smiling, she pushes her fingers through his and moves their joined hands down to her stomach. “More than alright. You? You okay?”

“I’m good. Is that what you wanted? Did I live up to your expectations?”

“Exceeded them, actually. I continue to be impressed by you. Your track record for incredible sex is almost a hundred percent.”

He raises his head from his pillow. “Almost?”

“You keep forgetting about that time after Kyle’s bachelor party. When you were drunk. When you got off and I didn’t and then had the goddamn gall to pass out. On top of me. Your poor little wife that’s a foot shorter and at that time, over a hundred pounds lighter.”

“Not one of my finer moments,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to her cheek. “I haven’t made up for it? It’s been ten years since that. I haven’t made amends yet?”

“You’re getting there,” she teases, and then yelps and giggles when his teeth sink into her shoulder. “By the way, I think the neighbour knows you’re here.”

“You know what I’m surprised about? That the kids didn’t wake up.”

“Maybe they’ve gotten so used to it, they just sleep through it now.”

“Or maybe they’re hiding under their covers, totally traumatized.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t be so good at what you do. Maybe you shouldn’t be the king of multiple orgasms. Screaming ones at that.”

“You’d rather I didn’t get you off at all?”

“Don’t get carried away. We don’t need to go to THAT big of an extreme.”

“We can resort back to a pillow over the face. Or my hand over your mouth.”

“Remember that time in Dhaka? When the people in the next room complained to the manager about the noise? He was so embarrassed; when he came up to our room.”

“I do. And I remember the first time we went to Phuket. I never introduced myself to the people in the next suite, but they seemed to know my first name.”

“They were just jealous. I guess neither of them ever experienced really good sex. And speaking of which; we’re going to have to change the sheets before we go to sleep.”

“You can sleep on that part. That’s YOUR wet spot. On YOUR side of the bed.”

“You’re the one who made it happen. You should be the one to clean up the mess.”

He grins against the nape of her neck. “It’s a good mess though.”

“A very good mess,” she says, and then rolls over to face him; pressing herself tightly against his chest and reaching up to push her fingers through his hair. “You alright?”

“Fine. Why?” He skims her fingertips along the length of her spine; pausing to trace the tattoo that decorates the small of her back before moving back up again. “Didn’t it seem like I was alright? Did I seem like I wasn’t having fun?”

“I can tell something’s wrong. You’re different; during sex. When something is bothering you, you do things differently. Not in a BAD way. Just in a different way. You’re more aggressive. Rougher than usual.”

“You okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No. You never do. It was perfect. YOU were perfect. It was just...different. You were different. I’ve been with you for twelve years. It’s one of the signs I’ve come to recognize; one of the things that change when something is bugging you.”

Tyler grins. “You’re good.”

“Are you going to tell me? What’s going on? You want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” he admits, and then presses a kiss to her forehead before rolling over onto his back.

“I think you should.” Esme slides closer to him, propping herself up onto her elbow. “I think it’s good for you; talking about things that bother you. We’ve learned over the last twelve years, right? That things are better...that WE’RE better...when you don’t keep shit inside.”

Sighing heavily, he runs both hands over his face; wincing at the discomfort in both back and shoulder when he puts his hands behind his head.

“Is that what is? Pain? Did you get hurt? Do you need more meds? Do you…?”

“No pain. Just some tightness. I don’t need any more meds. I’m fine.”

“Did you take them while you were gone? ALL of them?”

“Babe, I’ve been taking them for five years. I wouldn’t fuck it up now.”

“I’m not saying you would. I’m just worried about you. I know something is wrong and I know it’s better for you NOT to keep quiet about it. So tell me. Please. Do your wife a solid and talk to her.”

“Didn’t I just slip you a solid? Twice?”

She scowls. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s nothing. Me. Nothing you need to worry about.”

“I’m sorry, but this is something involving you and I worry about you. Don’t do this, okay? Let’s not get back into old habits. I know you don’t want that. Just like I don’t want it. Tell me. Please.”

He sighs once more, briefly closing his eyes.

“Is it the job?” Gentle fingertips trace the roman numeral tattoo on the front of his right shoulder. “ Did something go wrong? Other than a change in venue?”

“No. Other than that, things went fine.”

“But it IS about the job.”

Tyler nods.

“I’m not a mind reader, babe. I’m good, but I’m not THAT good. Something DID go wrong, didn’t it.”

“No. Nothing went wrong. It’s just...the people...the Marks.”

“They didn’t die or…?”

“Oh they died. You don’t survive a gunshot in the middle of the forehead.”

“So other than the chance of scenery, nothing went wrong and both Marks died but..”

“It’s who they were. Why they had to be killed. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I do. Because it’s bothering you and I don’t want you carrying that around. That’s never a good thing; you burying things. So yes. I want to hear it. You didn’t tell me much before you left; just that they were pieces of shit and they needed to be wiped out. Other than that…”

“They were the lowest of the low, Me. You can’t get lower than these guys. And I’ve dealt with some pretty huge pieces of shit. These guys? Worst I’ve ever gone against. By far.”

“Worse than Asif and Mahajan?”

“Considering how personal they made things and what they were going to do to my family, no one is worse than them. But if I take the personal stuff out of it, these guys are up there.”

“That doesn’t sound too promising. I didn’t think anyone could come close to those two.”

“The guns and the drugs? That shit was bad enough. They destroyed a lot of lives; killed a lot of people. But the shit I found AFTER I got there? About these guys? About other things they were up to? It’s fucked, Me. It’s fucked and it’s sick and twisted and I don’t think you need to know about it.”

“Well I think I do. You don’t have to shoulder this alone. It’s better if you don’t. Just tell me. I have big shoulders. Well, maybe not LITERALLY. What did you hear? About them?”

“Babe…”

“Tyler, tell me. Don’t do this. Not if you have plans on getting laid the rest of the time we’re here.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh I would. I’m not afraid to pull out the big guns. So either you tell me, or you suffer. Simple as that.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Tell me.” She presses a kiss to his lips. “Please.”

“When I got there and talked to the guy who hired Anil, things got worse. The Marks were even bigger pieces of shit than I thought. They’d both been married a handful of times. And put each one of their wives in the hospital. More than twice. A couple of them even ended up dead. There was never any proof that these guys did it, but…”

“But it’s pretty obvious.”

Tyler nods. “And then I heard about the kids. Not just kids they didn’t know. But kids related to them. Cousins, nieces, nephews. Their OWN kids.”

“Just beaten on them or…?”

“No. Not just beating on them. That’s bad enough. But this?”

“Sexual stuff.”

“Yeah. Sexual stuff.”

“Wow..” she sighs heavily, a fingertip skimming along the chain he wears around his neck. “...that IS the lowest of the low.”

“It just hit home. HARD. Made me think of you and the kids. Made being away from home a lot more difficult. And it was difficult enough already.”

“I’m sorry. That you had to hear all of that. But for it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you that took care of them. Anyone else ran the risk of screwing shit up. At least when you do things, you finish them That’s a bright spot, right? That you DID get to be the one?”

“Yeah, I guess. Just fucked me up. Mentally. Made me think of our kids. I swear to God, Me. If anything like that ever happens to them...if I ever find out that someone has touched them like that? I will fucking lose it. I will snap and I will fuck them up. I will torture them in all the worst ways possible. The most painful ways I know how. And then I’ll kill them. With my bare hands. If anyone ever messes with my kids…”

“Don’t think about that, Tyler. Don’t torture yourself like that. I mean, I think about it too. From time to time. And how I’d go nuts and kill someone. But don’t dwell on it, okay? Because our kids are fine. They’re warm and they're safe in their beds. And they always will be safe as long as you’re around. You know I always say you make me feel safe and protected? Well you do the same for them. You always have. Don’t ever doubt that, okay? They love you and they trust you. And you’re an amazing daddy.”

“I just want them to be safe. That’s all I want. Them safe. YOU safe.”

“And we ARE. Safe. As long as we’re with you, we’re fine. We don’t worry about a damn thing when you’re around. So please…” Esme presses a kiss to his cheek and nuzzles the end of her nose against his ear. “...no more dwelling. You got it out; you talked about it. You don’t need to think about it anymore.”

Running his hand through her hair, he tangles his fingers in the dark tresses and gently pulls her head back; lips covering hers in a long, slow kiss.

“Mmm…” she murmurs into his mouth, then sighs happily when he pulls away. “...that was...nice.”

“That was very nice.”

“You think you have one more in you? I still have some expectations that need to be met.”

“I think I can manage.”

“Good.” She throws her arms around his neck and rolls onto her back, kissing him hungrily as she pulls him down on top of her. Nails digging into his skin and her legs wrapping around his waist; ankles locking at the small of his back and a devilish grin playing on her lips when he pulls back to look at her. “Husband, you need to make love to me again.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction

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dragonjadearts · 3 years

Note

Ransom note for bthb? 👀

Ransom Note

Author’s Note: Holy cow this took longer than it should have because I kept putting it off. Anyways, here’s this. Also, this was going to be a lot longer, but I cut it off because it already took me so long and I have even more prompts to do so sorry if it ends weirdly, I’m terrible at ending things

Words: 2k

Characters: Last Dragonborn, Serana, Shadowmere, Llewellyn the Nightingale

Fandom: Elder Scrolls V (Skyrim)

Content/Trigger Warnings: Canon-Typical violence, kidnapping, kidnapping of children

Read it on A03!

Summary: After a long extended quest away from home, Teris is eager to get some much-needed rest at her manor in Falkreath, enjoying the forest and the company of her family. But what she finds when she returns home is anything but peaceful.

There was a warm wind off of Lake Illinalta, carrying with it the scent of salt and salmon. It was early in the spring morning and the sun cast long shadows on the cobblestone roads. Hoofbeats echoed in the morning light, as two riders strode by. They were silent, not out of discomfort but exhaustion. They had been traveling throughout the night and were eager to return home and rest.

Serana sighed, stretching her back. The old vampire had her hood drawn over her head and she squinted in the growing sunlight. Luckily she knew these roads well. She had walked them more times than she could count.

Teris looked out over the forest. She was happy to be back amongst the tall pine trees. Of all the properties she owned, this one reminded her most of home. There were no pine trees in Valenwood, but the scent of soil and cracking of branches was one she knew all to well. After her long journey in the North-western holds, she was happy to return to the forests.

Her mount, the red-eyed demon Shadowmere, snorted as he walked. He too was pleased to be back, happy to be amongst the trees he knew so well. The pond he had called his home for many years now was not far, and the Sanctuary — though now tainted with death and the scent of ash — was also close.

As the small group turned from the main road and made their way up across the unpaved paths, the manor began to slowly appear through the trees. The tall library tower was the first thing to notice. The second thing to notice was the lack of carriage out front. His absence was noted, but not concerning, he was likely escorting someone away or even on his way back by this point.

As Teris and her companion approached the entrance, her long elven ears twitched slightly, noting the lack of noise. It was deadly quiet, unusual for the house. A wave of unease washed over her. She called Shadowmere to a stop and gracefully leaped off his back. There was no sign of her children, who often played around the sides of the house. Her wife and housecarls were also nowhere to be seen and there was no sound of them nearby either.

Serana dismounted as well, just behind Teris. She seemed wary, and though tired, she readied herself. She too took note of the lack of life to the normally boisterous house. “I’ll check down by the lake,” she said, addressing her friend. Teris nodded absently, staring up at the house, a mix of emotions in her eyes. “They’re probably just enjoying the weather,” Serana said, in lackluster attempt at comfort. When that too failed to garner much of a response, she sighed to herself and began to make her way down the hill, to do as she had said.

Teris stood still for a moment longer, swaying on her feet, before she shook herself from her stupor and forced her feet to take steps towards the entrance. With bated breath, she put her hand on the wooden door. She exhaled and pushed it open slowly, not daring to look until it had fully opened to reveal her home.

As she opened her eyes, a wave of fury and fear washed over the Bosmer. She drew her weapon, the purple enchantment casting ominous shadows on the ruined furniture. Her weapon racks and trophies were scattered across the floor, the weapons themselves now gone. There were scratches on the walls and ash marks burned deep into the floorboards.

She stalked slowly through the entrance, pushing open the doors to the main hall without a noise. The state of that room was no better off than that of the entry hall. The long table in the center lay on its side, dishes broken and scattered on the ground. The fireplace at the end of the hall was unlit, and coals and ashes were swept to the side, staining the fine wood an ugly black and grey. On her left, one of the doors to the Greenhouse lay broken off its hinges at an odd angle, only propped up by the still closed door that accompanied it.

Teris slowly took another step forward, careful not to step on the particularly creaky floorboards. There wasn’t much light in here, only the purple glow of her sword, and the green light and shadows cast from the enchanter’s table upstairs. All the wall scones were unlit and dead.

She noticed, however, that the doors to the library were firmly shut, and if she concentrated and closed her eyes, her elven ears could pick up the faint sounds of shuffling from within. She ground her sharpened teeth together, sheathing her sword silently.

She quietly crept to the doors and scanned them for a moment. She turned to the side and with a quick jolt, rammed her shoulder into the doors. They didn’t budge but she was rewarded with the sound of a sharp intake of breath coming from within and the scraping of metal, presumably from whoever was inside picking up their weapon off the floorboards. She smiled a wolfish grin and took a few paces back. Readying herself, she rammed again into the doors. They shook and she could hear something heavy on the other side shift out of the way. Once more she threw herself at the doors, this time stopping just short as they crashed inwards.

To no surprise, not a moment later, a figure leaped out, crashing into her and wielding a sharp weapon. Teris dropped to the ground, throwing the attacker over her shoulder. She quickly withdrew the dagger from her boot and spun around on one heel to kick her attacker in the side. She lunged forward, slamming her knee into his chest and holding her knife to his throat. After a moment, she paused, recognizing the face staring back at her.

“Llewellyn?”

“Oh praise be! Lady Teris! You’ve finally come back!” The bard cried in breathless relief.

Teris stood up quickly, removing her knee from the bard’s chest and extending her left hand out to help him up, an offer he took gratefully.

“What happened here?” She asked.

“Bandits!” Llewellyn exclaimed. He reached up to clutch at his left arm which was soaked through with red. “Nasty pests, they ruined this entire home! I’m so sorry my lady, I tried to fight, I really did, but I’m no warrior!”

“It’s alright,” Teris soothed, a pang of sympathy echoing in her voice. “Calm down. Where is everyone? Are they alright?”

The bard sighed, shaking his head in shame. “No, I’m afraid not. Just over a week ago, Lady Aela had left for Whiterun. Her brothers in arms said they had some sort of quest for her. She took Gunjar with her and left Lydia and Rayya here to protect the home.

But they left just a few days ago to receive some supplies from Falkreath and didn’t return. Not a full day had passed when a group of bandits arrived. I swear on my honor I tried to defend the children, but there were many of them, and I’m a poor coward. They left with the two young ones.” Llewellyn ended his tale with a regretful tone.

Teris was shaking with rage. She ground her teeth together and clenched her hands into tight fists. Taking a deep breath, she let the air hiss out of her teeth, like a snake warning off a predator. “Did they leave a note?” She forced out, still shaking with rage.

Llewellyn shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot but nodded hesitantly. “Upstairs, I believe,” he said. “In the bedroom on-“

Teris didn’t let him finish. She spun around on her heel and marched up the stairs to the bedroom. The upstairs was in a marginally better state than downstairs, but only because the space there was more confined. In fact many pieces of furniture that weren’t laying on their side were laying on the first floor, having evidently been thrown off the staircase and down into the main hall. The bed of the master bedroom was messy, as if it had been hastily made up and the unmade again, and a lockbox full of keys lay open on its side, spilling said keys out onto the floor. A note lay on the end table, blood stained.

Teris snatched up the letter, pulling it open. She read quickly, every word only serving to anger her further. The letter read:

“To whom it may concern:

You certainly have a lovely home and such lovely children. I have never had children for myself, but these ones should do nicely. I think they’ll rather enjoy staying with me for a while longer. Of course if you don’t want that, I believe we can work out a deal.

I want 4000 septims for the safe return of your children. You have one week.

I eagerly await your coin at Arcwind Point.

Yours truly,

Rochelle the Red”

Teris tore the letter in half and threw it to the ground, letting out a scream of anger. Dragon tongue echoed in her throat, begging to be released. She shouted, pulling out her sword and swinging it down in a glowing purple attack that did nothing to help her release her fury. She screamed again, primal fury echoing in her voice and out across the mountains. In the far distance, deer lifted their heads and ran for hills. Birds let out one final cry and turned away. In Falkreath, citizens felt a shiver run down their back as something ancient and angry rippled through time and space. All the way to Whiterun, a wave of uneasy emotions swept over every hunter, sell-sword, and citizen.

Teris fell silent, panting and clutching her sword in her hands. Her ears twitched as the sound of familiar boots climbing the stairs reached her. Serana was silent, waiting for Teris to make the first move.

The Dragonborn growled. She straightened up, closing her eyes for a moment. As she sheathed her sword once more, she felt a wave of calm rush over her. She opened her eyes and turned to Serana. The ancient vampire met her gaze. She recognized the calm cold fury shining in her friend’s eyes. She nodded.

Teris took one last glance around the destroyed upstairs before her eyes settled on Serana again. “Llewellyn is injured,” she began. “Clean his wounds. Then take him to Falkreath and look for those damn housecarls. I’ll meet you in Whiterun once I get the girls.

Serana nodded. “I’ll send word to Aela once we reach Falkreath, let her know what’s going on.”

Teris bowed her head and the vampire stepped aside, letting her friend down the stairs. Llewellyn looked up as she came down, sitting on the turned over side of the table, still clutching his wounded arm. He look exceedingly nervous, even more so as Teris turned her gaze to him and he noted the rage and fury that was shining through it. She felt a twinge of regret and having scared the bard so much with her anger, but she had bigger things to deal with. She picked her way through the scattered home and shoved open the doors to stand, blinking in the sunlight.

The woods were silent now, as if holding their breath in fear and anticipation. The sounds of wildlife that had accompanied Teris on her journey to the house were now silent. Those that hadn’t fled her voice were deathly quiet, as if fearing to make a noise lest they be on the receiving end of her fury.

The only sign of life was Shadowmere, standing proudly where Teris had dismounted him. He locked eyes with her to the side and she swore that if horses could smile, he would be smirking. There was an understanding. She marched to his side and climbed aboard his saddle. There was no hesitation in either of their movements as the hunter spurred the enormous red-eyed demon into movement and they galloped down the hill and onto the main road. They had prey to catch.

#elder scrolls v #elder scrolls character #skyrim #skyrim character #skyrim ic #skyrim dragonborn #also yes yes i know that in the game it’s your spouse that gets kidnapped #but if aela got kidnapped she would simply get out herself #sorry bethesda but my wife is built different #skyrim writing #bosmer dragonborn #first time writing something big in a long while #motivation to write is so fleeting please send help #elder scrolls

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dreaming-gamer · 4 years

Text

DMC Week Day 7: College AU

For my final entry for DMC week, I chose to write the trio as college students playing Final Fantasy XIV – Nero, V & Nico.

A self-indulgent AU fic (haven’t played Final Fantasy XIV in years) based on a few college headcanons.

Thank you to everyone and all that’s read my works during this week! Your support means a lot ❤️❤️❤️ Here we go, hope you enjoy!

Nero as Warrior, tank

Nico as Machinist, damage dealer

V as Summoner, damage dealer

***

Nero nervously stared at his health-bar steadily going down as attack after attack scratched down his life despite all the buffs his character had on. The controller vibrated furiously in his hands, his jaw clenched. The boss would be dead at any second and the healer was trying their best but the bad connection they had so far had was making Nero nervous. Wasn’t a heal long overdue? Weren’t their character just standing still?

“If you perish, I got Resurrection ready.” V said, his voice ever so calm that it actually made Nero grin. Was he ever happy he’d gotten himself this new headset that let him regulate game and party sounds separately? Yeah, they were in a bad spot, but the boss was so close to dead now. They’d get through it.

“Nico!” He called the second the limit break chime could be heard in his headset.

“On it!” Nero could basically hear the buttons on her controller being slammed, together with her laughter. “Eat this!” Nico’s machinist character pulled out the crossbow, ready for the shot that would send the boss to oblivion.

“Dammit!” Nero shifted his character as an AoE marker appeared under his feet, along with certain death as his health was reaching less than 5000. Even if V revived him instantly, Nero as the tank dying now might just spell their doom.

The boss inched after him, leaving the indicated line of Nico’s limit break. Winds whipped around their characters, but they all managed to avoid more injury.

“Whoa, whatcha doing?!” Nico exclaimed in disbelief.

“Just aim again!” Thrill of Battle was back off cooldown, restoring some of his health. Sweet.

“It got used up, asshole! Healer dc’ed!” Nico’s voice snapped his focus back. Another buff off cooldown and he used it.

“What?!” Did that have to happen at this crucial moment? One quick glance at the party list said ??? for the healer’s status.

“Nero, your Holmgang should be ready for use. Just hold on.” V calmly stated and Nero blinked as he realized V was right. Had he been counting seconds since the last four minutes??

“Fuck!” The progress bar over the boss’ life told him a tankbuster was coming. Nero waited, his finger on the trigger for Holmgang, his sweet 6-seconds of almost invincibility to save him if needed. He pushed the button, the bright orange line above the boss filled the entire way, the hit connected, the controller in his hands vibrating valiantly. Hit points sailing down to zero. Swears bubbled up in his chest, flowed out of him like a sailor when the boss started to move towards Nico. But it had sooo little HP left!

“I pushed the button, I swear!” Nero shouted in disbelief, heart pounding in his chest, did they really have to redo this??

A sharp blast of white light engulfed the boss, sending it to the ground and the screen faded to black for a second before the victory cutscene played, with Nero’s own character magically on his feet. This was why he loved having V as a summoner on their team.

“Freaking finally! We did it!” Nico celebrated. Nero grinned, feeling as if a stone lifted off his shoulders.

“Let’s check gear!”

“No healer means one less to compete with!” Nico singsonged, letting her character put her grabby hands on the treasure chest. A healer chestpiece popped up on screen. Nero’s sigh was mimicked by Nico, none of them were a healer, not even close. At least there was a Strength ring for him to grab.

Nero blinked as the notifications told him V had grabbed the healer chestpiece. Unprompted, the summoner spoke.

“Perhaps I should go as a scholar, for our next dungeon. Our luck with healers tonight has been… less than fruitful.”

“Nah man, continue with summoner if you want, we’ll be--”

“Do it!” Nico stated on the top of her lungs, her microphone bumping into her chin as she grabbed for a cigarette. “I wanna see the end of the next dungeon tonight!”

“I can go paladin for extra heals.” Nero shrugged, even if neither of his companions could see it.

“And give up that sweet damage, really?” Nico teased, making Nero huff.

“I can play defensively every once in a while.”

“Uh huh…” Nico snickered, while all he heard from V was a chuckle.

“What, I can! Come on, let’s go to the next one!” Nero prompted and grabbed for his soda, eager to go again. Leaning his head back for a sip, there were just two drops meeting his tongue. Damn, when had his beverage run out?

“As… enjoyable as progressing further would be, I am fairly certain you both have lectures in the morning?” V said matter-of-factly while there was a weak rustling of a book page being turned coming from his microphone.

“Yeah, so? I can do it for a bit longer--” Nero started, checking his phone for time. It was waaay too late! “It’s already FIVE?!”

Dry coughing made it clear Nico had just swallowed smoke.

“Y-y-yer…” Cough. “kid-ding!”

“Hell no!” Nero exclaimed.

“Why didn’t ya say somethin’?!” Nico coughed at the sole calm person.

“I did try to, both at one and three o’clock. You both were a bit too… absorbed in what we were doing.” V calmly stated, making Nero groan, oh yeah, they might have been into everything. It wouldn’t be the first time…

“I gotta scram, I’ve got an exam tomor-- today!” With that, Nico’s character was logged out, her voice chat icon offline.

Nero sighed.

“Hope that works out for her. What about you V?” The sign out option showed up at the click of a menu and Nero clicked himself out, the calming music of the title screen trickling through his second-hand headset that smelled of energy drink. At most he’d be able to get what, two hours of sleep? Was it even worth it at this point?

“I will attempt to sleep. I do not have a lecture until the afternoon.”

“Lucky you, vampire.” Nero snorted, his dormmate’s chuckle meeting his ears. “Catch you at lunch then?”

“If I have awakened until then, yes.”

“Great.” Nero knew he should log off, get some sleep. But damn, he didn’t feel sleepy at all. He knew something would keep him up, if he went now.

“Hey V?” He tried, hoping the other hadn’t shut off his headset just yet.

“Yes Nero?” V didn’t sound bothered by the quiet inquiry, despite being about to head to sleep. Nero inhaled, through his nose.

“I told you my grade dropped a bit, right? From last exam?” During the day, he brushed it off, no problem. But at night, it was hard to not feel some… nervousness over what could happen, if his grades dropped too much. Nero needed to keep it up, if he wanted a new scholarship and he not only wanted that scholarship, he needed it so badly to stay.

“Yes.” A pause, followed by V softly closing a book. “Are you worried it might happen again?” He softly asked.

Nero scratched his nose, V even knew before he voiced the issue? He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or called out.

“Yeah, something like that. I know our subjects are pretty different…” No shit, considering V was reading the classical poems and literary works of people whose names Nero barely could pronounce. But V had great study technique, always fixing his assignments on time, something that Nero had failed to do, several times. He admired that, about the dorm vampire with a love for classical music. V’s voice was always a joy to listen to as well. Maybe he didn’t say everything he was thinking, but his voice was deep, calming at this late hour.

“But, you up for studying together? Someday this week? I think I need someone to help me not procrastinate so much and Nico is not that…” If anything, she either sat with her notes and realized she had found out something brilliant for her own studying, or she was digging the rock music Nero always put on while studying, just as much as he was.

“I don’t mind.” V replied, making Nero grin with relief over having one guy in his corner. “We can start with hiding your headphones. Or your Bluetooth speaker.”

“Right…” Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea, Led Zeppelin did snatch his focus otherwise. Nero let out a small laugh. “But you’ll give the headphones back, right? I need those for my morning runs.”

“Hmm, perhaps.” His dormmate teased.

“Or you’ll come along on my morning runs to keep me company?” Nero tried, he had given hints to get V to join him in the fresh air, the early morning sun for weeks now.

“Too chilly for me, I’m afraid.” Was the soft reply. “I will retire for now, Nero. Do try to get some sleep.”

“Yeah, fine… Thanks V.” Nero’s eyelids actually felt a bit heavier now.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight. Or perhaps, good morning.” V replied with a chuckle.

Nero groaned, giving a goodnight before ending the voice chat.

#dmcweek #dmcweek2020 #devil may cry fanfiction #devil may cry nero #devil may cry nico #devil may cry v #final fantasy xiv #my writing

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frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 3 years

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8th May >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on John 15:18-21 for Saturday, Fifth Week of Eastertide: ‘A servant is not greater than his master’.

Saturday, Fifth Week of Eastertide.

Gospel (Except USA)

John 15:18-21

The world hated me before it hated you.

Jesus said to his disciples:

‘If the world hates you, remember that it hated me before you. If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you do not belong to the world, because my choice withdrew you from the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the words I said to you: A servant is not greater than his master. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you too; if they kept my word, they will keep yours as well. But it will be on my account that they will do all this, because they do not know the one who sent me.’

Gospel (USA)

John 15:18-21

You do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world.

Jesus said to his disciples: “If the world hates you, realize that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but because you do not belong to the world, and I have chosen you out of the world, the world hates you. Remember the word I spoke to you, ‘No slave is greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. And they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know the one who sent me.”

Reflections (6)

(i) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

In today’s first reading, Luke, the author of the Acts of the Apostles, gives us a strong sense of the early church being guided by the Holy Spirit. Paul and his companions travelled through the countryside of the Roman province of Galatia, having been told by the Holy Spirit not to preach the word in the Roman province of Asia, both provinces being in modern-day Turkey. The Spirit would not allow them to cross into the province of Bithynia either, so, instead, they came to the city of Troas, on the North West coast of modern-day Turkey. There Paul experienced the prompting of the Spirit once more in the form of a vision in which a person from Macedonia in Northern Greece called on Paul and his companions to come over and help them. Luke was showing that the Holy Spirit was guiding the early church, especially the missionary journeys of Paul. We can be confident that the Holy Spirit continues to guide the church today. The church is not just a human organization, a kind of religious multi-national corporation. Yes, it has elements that are typical of any world-wide organization. It is a human institution. More fundamentally, however, the church is a spiritual reality. The risen Lord, through the Spirit, is present in the church, shaping it and guiding it. The church cannot be shaped by opinion polls. It can only be shaped by the Lord and his Spirit. Sometimes, as Jesus says in the gospel reading today, this will put the church into conflict with the prevailing culture, ‘if they persecuted me, they will persecute you too’. The church is in the midst of the world, but it is not of the world. As Jesus declares in that gospel reading, ‘you do not belong to the world’. The really important question for the church is not, ‘what do people think of us?’ but ‘what is the Lord saying to us’ or ‘Where is the Spirit leading us?’ Answering those questions requires prayerful discernment from us all.

And/Or

(ii) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

We have become very aware in recent times of Christians who suffer for their belief in Jesus, especially in parts of the Middle East. Many have been put to death because of their refusal to renounce their Christian faith. In this morning’s gospel reading, Jesus is speaking to his disciples on the night before his own execution, his crucifixion. He warns his disciples and all future disciples that if the world persecutes him, it will persecute them. The term ‘world’ here is shorthand for those in the world who have said ‘no’ to Jesus and his message. We are not likely to be persecuted in this part of the world in the way that Jesus and many of his first followers were, and many of his followers today are. Yet, we can experience more subtle forms of hostility and rejection, to the point where we can be afraid to witness publicly to the values of Jesus and of the gospel. We can be very tempted to keep our head down and to stay silent. We can be intimidated by the forces at work in the culture that appear to be so intolerant of any form of religious faith and of any institution that promotes it. We have been reading from the Acts of the Apostles in our first reading this Easter Season. What often comes across in the story of those early Christians is their courage in the face of hostility. They seemed to rely not on themselves but on the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of the risen Lord, whom they experienced within and among themselves. This same Holy Spirit is available to us all. We need the Spirit if our faith is to be as courageous as that of the first believers.

And/Or

(iii) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

Saint Patrick in his Confession writes that sometime after he returned to Britain having escaped from captivity in Ireland he had a vision one night in which he saw a man named Victor who had come from Ireland with a large number of letters. In the vision this man gave Patrick one of the letters and Patrick read the opening words of the letter which were, ‘the voice of the Irish’. At the same time, Patrick began to hear the voice of those who lived near where he had been held captive and they shouted, ‘We ask you, boy, come and walk once more among us’. I was reminded of that section of Patrick’s Confession by this morning’s first reading. According to our reading, one night Paul had a vision while in Troas, which is in north western Turkey. In that vision a Macedonian appeared and appealed to him, ‘Come across to Macedonia and help us’. Macedonia is in northern Greece. Both Patrick and Paul responded to the calls they heard and as a result those who had never heard the gospel came to know Christ. We are all called by God in some way or other; we are always trying to discern the call of the Lord in our lives. One thing we can be sure of is that insofar as we respond to the Lord’s call to us, the lives of others will be greatly blessed.

And/Or

(iv) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

John’s gospel speaks about God’s love for the world. God so loved the world that he sent his only Son. In today’s gospel reading Jesus speaks about the world’s hatred for him and for his followers. In Luke’s gospel Jesus calls on his disciples to love their enemies and to do good to those who hate them. The gospels suggest that Jesus was realistic about the hostility that would come his own way and the way of his followers. Yet, he wanted his followers to relate to the world not on the basis of how the world relates to them but on the basis of how God and Jesus relate to the world. In the gospel reading Jesus says, ‘A servant is not greater than his master’. That can be read in two ways. One way is, ‘if the master experienced hostility so will the servants’. The other way is, ‘if the master washed the feet of the servants, including the feet of Judas, the one who betrayed him, the servants must do likewise; they must reveal the love of God to others regardless of how they relate to them’. That saying of Jesus, ‘a servant is not greater than his master’ gives us much to ponder. It is only with the help of the Holy Spirit that we can be like the master in every respect.

And/Or

(v) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

In the gospel reading this morning Jesus tells his disciples on the night before he died that they can expect the same hatred from the world that he himself has experienced. In that regard, as in others, he remarks that a ‘servant is not greater than his master’. We know that Christians are being persecuted in many parts of the world at present. There has been persecution of the church in China for many decades. In the Maoist era, Catholics were forced to go underground. Mao’s late wife once said, ‘Christianity in China has been confined to the history section of the museum. It is dead and buried’. Thankfully, China’s Christians have greater liberties now than in the past. Yet, those Catholics who recognize the Pope rather than the state-backed Catholic Patriotic Association are liable to persecution and harassment. In a letter written to the faithful of the Catholic church in China in May 2007, Pope Benedict XVI expressed the hope that this day, May 24, would become a day of prayer for the church in China. The Pope chose this day because is the memorial of Our Lady Help of Christians, who is venerated with great devotion at the Marian shrine of Sheshan in Shanghai. The statue of Our Lady Help of Christians at the shrine is very striking. Our Lady holds the child Jesus high above her head; the child’s hands are extended straight out to left and right symbolizing his death on the cross and the overcoming of his death with his resurrection. These outstretched arms are also a symbol of love for all humanity. We remember to pray for the church in China today and we also ask the Lord to make us more courageous in bearing witness to him in our own time and place.

And/Or

(vi) Saturday, Fifth Week of Easter

There is something of a contrast between today’s first reading and today’s gospel reading. The first reading from the Acts of the Apostles gives us a very positive picture of Paul’s ministry in what is now Turkey. Luke, the author, tells us that ‘the churches grew in faith, as well as growing daily in numbers’. They were growing in both quality and numbers. Paul reaches Troas which is on the north-west coast of modern day Turkey, and there he has a dream in which he hears the people of Macedonia, in Northern Greece, call out to him to preach the gospel among them. Paul immediately makes plans to cross from what we would call today Asia, Turkey, to Europe, Greece. This is the moment when the gospel reaches Europe for the first time, probably less than twenty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus. Luke gives us a sense of the Holy Spirit at work guiding Paul and his companions, charting their course. It is a very encouraging picture. However, in the gospel reading Jesus paints a somewhat bleaker picture. He tells his disciples that just as the world, the world of unbelief, has hated him, so it will hate them. A servant is not greater than his master. As they persecuted the master, Jesus, they will persecute the servants, his disciples. If Luke in the first reading depicts the work of the Spirit, the gospel reading depicts hostility to that work. Both these realities will always be a feature of the church’s life and mission. What matters is that in the face of the hostility to the gospel message, we never lose sight of the Spirit at work within us and among us.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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an-upset-librarian · 5 years

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A Storm of Ice & Wind -- Part VI

As Nesta and Cassian travel North, they talk about the path that brought them together.

At long last, I humbly bring before you all an update to this little Nessian story of mine. Nothing like a quarantine to get things started, huh? I hope you enjoy this little chapter!

As always, if you want to be added/removed from the update tag list, let me know! I just copy/paste and I know it has been a while since I updated so...

AO3

I II III IV V

PART VI

Thankfully, Nesta held back her surprised scream when Cassian quickly thrust up into the sky with his powerful wings. The drum beat of his wings drowned out the panicked pounding of her heart, but as soon as they cleared the canopy and reached open air, Nesta’s fear was replaced with childlike wonder.

She’d never paid any attention when she flew before. Never really wanted to open her eyes and look at the world from the new perspective. How stupid she’d been.

Her breath misted in the chilled air, the early rays of the sun catching it and casting a golden light upon her every exhale. She blinked against the glaring sun as it slowly peeked out from behind the wall of mountains spanning in nearly every direction. She looked down and the forest was only a dark blur beneath them. Washes of greens and browns and snow mixed together until she couldn’t distinguish one tree from another.

The sky was a brilliant canvas around them. The dawn blushed into life around them, highlighting the clouds and emphasizing the creeping darkness of night as it faded away. Oranges and pinks streaked the sky and clouds. Nesta was in complete and utter awe. They were high enough that she felt as though she could reach out and touch the fluffy clouds around them. A gentle breeze washed through her plaited hair and pinched at her cheeks. She felt as though she was living inside one of Feyre’s paintings.

The thought of her sister dampened her mood, but not as much as she would have expected. Flying above the canopy, enveloped in the painted sunrise filled her with tranquility, something she had not felt in quite a while.

A smile lit her face and she nearly forgot who was carrying her when she tightened her grip around Cassian’s neck. The overwhelming sense of smugness exuding from her companion’s pores quickly reminded her of who she was with. He was watching her with mirth in his dark gaze, an all too self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

The itching of her power under her skin faded to the back of her mind as she took in the great landscape beneath her and the skies around her. Nesta saw why Cassian loved to fly, why all Illyrians loved to fly. And what a punishment it was to clip female’s wings to keep them from experiencing such freedom.

They were silent for the first half hour or so. Cassian focused on his flying and the trials they would face ahead, and Nesta relishing in the calmness flying brought her and the clarity she could almost reach. Before she knew it, she was relaxing in Cassian’s arms, the stress she’d felt about her magic and her overwhelming emotions fading with each wingbeat.

While the air was frigid, it was a blessing against her hot, irritated skin. The brisk bite of the cold wind on her cheeks and her hands distracted her from the waves of power boiling inside of her. She knew she had to talk to Cassian about it, see if he could help, but her damned pride was still intact even after months of living as a shell of the person she used to be. Though, the person she used to be was stubborn and prideful as well.

Maybe that person was still inside her, a foundation for the pieces she was trying to put together again.

She lost track of time, lost in the beauty that surrounded her and the comfort of the arms around her and the body against her. It wasn’t until Cassian spoke, jolting her from her peaceful reverie, that she remembered their goals and what brought them to flying further North.

“I needed this,” he said, his eyes filled with rare softness. Nesta nodded. She could see the stress leave his shoulders, like a weight was lifted, and the ease in his movements. His arms tightened around her as he breathed in the cold air. “After Hybern, when that bastard shredded my wings-” Nesta tensed in his arms, memories rising to the surface.

“A part of me thought I’d never be able to do this again, to fly above Illyria with the winter winds against my wings and the sun on my skin.” His brow furrowed. Nesta wondered if it was the bubble that surrounded them, high above the ground with nothing but the clouds for company, that brought up such vulnerability. She felt it too, a tender and fragile part of her heart seemed to light up at his words.

“I remember,” she started, “seeing you bandaged. I could see it, the determination to be fully healed but behind that I saw your fear too. And I felt it within me. I was in a body I couldn’t recognize with abilities I never thought possible, Elain was-well, she was Elain. Feyre was gone and so was my home.” That piece of her heart swelled with emotion and she felt the tether tying her to the male that held her grow taut. His thumb stroked her shoulder and he stared into her eyes with no hesitation or fear, only understanding. “I remember seeing you relearning how to fly. I wanted you to win that fight.” She met his gaze head on.

“I wanted revenge, justice, whichever. I wanted one of us to come out of that cursed castle stronger and unchanged.” She clenched her jaw and exhaled a hard breath of air. “But that revenge came at a price. One I don’t know if I can pay.” The memories of the Cauldron and the King that wielded it came rushing back.

The feeling of that cold water against her skin, the image of Cassian, broken and unconscious, crawling towards her as she fought and screamed. And what came after-when she was inside that ancient thing. The darkness that surrounded her and what she saw inside of it, what she stole. That darkness lived in her now.

“Some burdens stay with us, like scars that don’t heal right, or broken bones that don’t set. There are wounds of the mind that can’t be healed, only patched over. I know, I have a couple. Knowing that I wasn’t strong enough, despite what these damned Siphons grant me, that I wasn’t enough to save your or your sister, it is the greatest wound I shall ever bear. Deeper than all the shit I did during the war so many centuries ago, or even the war we just survived.” Cassian’s voice was thick with emotion. His arms tightened to the point of pain, but she didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything. She could only listen, as he did for her.

“I saw what happened to you, what you went through and I stayed away because I thought it would be best, Nesta.” Her name was honey on his lips, and she leaned in like a honeybee drawn to a flower’s nectar. His face was mere inches from hers and she could feel the heat of his breath fan across her face. She could see the golden flecks in his eyes shining in the sunlight.

“I wish things could have been different for you, but they weren’t. You were dealt a shit hand and you’re trying your best; I can see that now. I know it isn’t easy. I know.” For once, Nesta actually believed he did know, that he did understand. That he could understand, somehow, the pain she felt. Their scars were different, but if she could recognize those marks on his soul then he could see hers. Another piece of herself fell into place as she stared into his eyes, as she felt his pain and saw his empathy. She took a shaky breath and cupped her hands around his face. They were hovering, almost, in the sky together. Locked in their bubble together.

“I see you too, Cassian.” She pressed her forehead against his and felt him shudder. A sense of ease and comfort overcame her. It was so easy to be close to him, to be vulnerable with him. In the bubble, she didn’t care about her pride or her wounds that refused to heal. Cassian murmured her name, as if saying a prayer and for once she wanted to answer that call of devotion, without thinking about what it could mean.

“I-” she stuttered, too afraid to finish.

“I know,” he answered.

She thought about the first time they met, when she was still human, and the war seemed like something impossible happening in an impossible place. How she judged those that accompanied her sister. So much has changed, but now it felt right. The thread that connected her to Cassian was singing. It wrapped around her chest and brought warmth and something she never thought she could feel. Its melody was familiar and welcoming, and she was being drawn into its dance. Nesta felt Cassian’s breath against her lips. She thumbed the slight stubble on his jaw and took a deep breath.

She felt his lips brush against hers and was instantly reminded of the last time she felt his lips on hers, when they faced certain death together as that King walked towards them. Nesta jerked back.

She heard it again, the snap of her father’s bones. She saw it, his crumpled form. Saw Cassian’s broken wings and body against the earth, looking at her with such grief and loss. All at once, those feelings that dwelled inside her that had been calm since they took off into the skies returned. Her heartbeat sped up and the power inside of her stretched and bared its teeth.

Nesta pushed against Cassian as the panic set into her bones, nestling besides her pieced together heart. She could hear his voice, a few curses and some attempt at calming words but she couldn’t hear his words. Couldn’t focus. All she could hear was that Cauldron damned snap. All she could feel was the memory of his lips against hers, the salty taste of his tears and the desperation they both shared.

She couldn’t be here, in his arms and thinking of kissing him. Not when her father was dead, her life forever changed and destroyed, her family lost to her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t focus. There was only the panicked sense of danger that filled every fiber of her being.

That ancient power inside her relished in her roiling emotions. It took advantage of the brief loss of control she had and lashed out. Her skin was crawling and cold. Nesta’s muscles trembled and despite knowing she was hundreds of feet in the air, the power inside of her wrought havoc. It filled her blood and danced across her skin. She wanted to cling to Cassian, to pull him close and have him tell her everything would be okay, but that power was all consuming. Before she even knew what was happening, her body was finally free of his warm but confining arms.

And Nesta fell.

------------------------------

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#nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #my writing #a storm of ice and wind #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #post-acofas #fanfiction #nessian fanfic #acotar fanfiction #yes I know it's 2 am but listen when i am ready im ready so time has no meaning

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izzygyrl · 5 years

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BTS REACTS: Finding Out Their S/O’s fear. (PART ONE)

JIN: (Thunder)

Tonight was supposed to be perfect. Jin was finally home from his tour and finally had time to relax and chill out from the stresses of his hectic and busy life. He was only home for the week before he went to spend time with his family before going back to work with the other members of BTS. You had just finished up dinner and you had made his favorite dishes both from his Korean heritage and your own that you had introduced to him and he had loved. You were now currently curled up together on the large couch, limbs entangled with his, your head on his chest as you watched TV together. The steady rhythm of his heart lulled you into a calm state his faint cologne from the day engulfing your nostrils and comforting you. The weather had called for light rains for the evening which were now currently falling to your enjoyment. Jin had just got up to grab a drink while you lay on the couch watching him enter the kitchen. As you gazed after him you saw the first quick flash of light. At first you didn’t know if you saw the lightning outside the window or if it was your eyes playing a trick on you. However about thirty seconds later a loud boom confirmed your worst fears. Another flash of light soon quickly followed it meaning the storm was right over you. Another boom went off and scared you out of your wits. Just then, Jin walked back into the living room to you see you jump to your feet from the couch your eyes wild with alarm causing him to immediately become concerned. He quickly made his way over to you. “Jagiya what’s wrong? Are you--.” But he didn’t finish his sentence for another flash and boom went off and in a second your arms were around him, your neck buried in his chest, eyes shut tight and small whimpers coming out of your pursed lips holding onto him for dear life. Jin automatically caught on and wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed the top of your head as he began whispering sweet nothings to you trying to calm you down. He sat you down onto the couch and grabbed the blanket wrapped it around both of you and lay back on the couch, the tv show forgotten, his only concern was calming you down and getting you through this storm. “I’ve got you (Y/N).” He whispered in your ear. Each time the thunder went off he would assure you and try to convince you that the one you had just heard had been not as loud as the last. “It’s okay, we all have fears Jagi. I’m right here. We’ll get through this together.”

SUGA: (Rodents)

“OPPA!” The way you screeched his name scared Yoongi half to death when he first heard it while he was working in his studio. You knew he didn’t like to be disturbed while he was in there but for you this was an emergency and Yoongi could tell by the fear in your screams and calls for him. Dropping what he was doing, he came flying out of the room, as you continued to scream for him at the other end of the house. He ran down the hallway, his brown male poodle Holly running after him. As he skidded into the room he couldn’t believe what he saw. There you were standing on a chair huddled up in fear your eyes locked on something in the corner of the room. Following your gaze Yoongi saw what it was that had sent you into a frenzied panic. A field mouse. Almost immediately Yoongi relaxed and couldn’t help but be amused. Stepping towards you he kept his eye on the mouse who currently was totally chilling out by the heater grooming its fur without a care in the world. By this time Holly had spotted it and gave a yip but Yoongi not wanting the mouse to run off and cause you more stress hushed his canine companion with a sharp command. “Baby it’s just a little mouse!” He said with a small chuckle glancing at you. “I don’t care what size it is, I want it out of here!” You hissed through gritted teeth, grabbing onto the back of the chair you were perched on for dear life, your knuckles white. Trying not to smirk too much and doing his best to hold his face in a composed manner, he quietly grabbed a clear decorative bowl and a thick plastic placemat from the counter nearby. He then slowly approached the mouse, trying not to make any sudden movements. When Yoongi was within a few feet, the mouse froze, now watching him warily. Deciding it was close enough, quick as lightning, Yoongi threw the plastic bowl over the mouse. It fell right over the tiny brown rodent trapping it. The bowl then began to move a few inches each way as the mouse tried to figure out what the heck had just happened. Quickly Yoongi jumped forward, pushing on the top of the bowl, grounding it until the mouse calmed down. Then with care he slid the firm plastic mat under the bowl making sure the mouse had stepped on top of the mat before lifting the whole thing up. “(Y/N), get the door for me please.” He said. Jumping down from the chair you zoomed over to the door leading out to the garden, making sure to give Yoongi a wide berth. Opening the door you jumped back as he went out into the garden. He walked towards the back of the garden where the fence stopped at the woods. Then putting the makeshift trap down he quickly lifted the bowl and gently tipped the mouse off the board and onto the grass. For a second the mouse lay there before bolting into the woods and disappearing altogether. Going back into the house, he gave you a bemused look as he went to wash off the stuff he had used as a trap. “That wasn’t so bad was it?” He asked giving you a smirk. You flushed realizing how ridiculous you must have seemed. “I just don’t like them.” You said gazing down at your feet slightly embarrassed. Yoongi approached you and chuckled placing a kiss on your nose. “I like saving you. Makes me feel good. Even if I’m only protecting you from a little mouse.” He said and you wrapped your arms around him. “I’m lucky to have the best mouse trapper as a boyfriend.” You said. You then both giggled. Yoongi then put his hands on his hips in a superman style pose. “Super Suga saves the day again!”

Jimin: (Tight Spaces)

The screaming fans were deafening. You could hear them backstage in the greenroom even through the thick walls. The concert was finishing up and you helping the crew get everything together. Your boyfriend of a year Jimin was one of the members of the worldwide famous band BTS. With that came a lot of perks but also a lot of disadvantages. Privacy invasions, paparazzi, rumors and your worst nightmare-crowds. Most times you were able to avoid it because you weren’t traveling with the band in public. You usually found a quieter way out. However tonight was different. You were staying with Jimin at the hotel he and the others were staying at and it was easier and safer tonight to travel together. Jimin didn’t really know about your fear for you tried to deal with it as best as possible and you hadn’t been in a lot of situations where you were caught in a crowd. As the group came running into the room you were just finishing up the last of the clean up when you felt arms wrap around your waist and your neck begin to tingle as you felt Jimins lips on your neck. “Hello (Y/N).” He whispered, his breath still heavy from his adrenaline and excitement of the concert. You smiled and turned your head to kiss him. “Hello jagi. How was your show?” You greeted him happily before asking the question. His face lit up. “Great. ARMY was amazing.” He said, for he loved the fans so much. You nodded. “Good to hear. Why don’t you go clean up a bit before we go hm?” You suggested. He nodded and without a word went to go get ready to leave. Most times, the location and information of the transportation vehicle was kept under supreme secrecy due to the fact that BTS’s ARMY would go to great lengths to be closer with their amazing group members. Holding onto Jimin’s hand you walked with the other group members and their large security detail of 15 security guards towards where the bus was that was going to transport you to the hotel for the night. As you got closer to the location a noise you had been hearing was getting louder and louder. Suddenly you realized what it was. Screaming. Sejin their manager held up a hand and the whole party stopped. You gripped onto Jimin tightly and he glanced at you curiously before turning his attention back to the front of the party. Sejin and a security guard who had just come jogging from the lot where the van was parked stopped and they spoke in hushed tones before Sejin nodded. He turned to the group and nodded. “It’s a large group. Guys you know what to do. No stopping for anything unless it’s absolutely necessary. Security has been detailed on what to do. Let’s get there as quickly and calmly as possible.” He said. He then turned and began walking and Jimin started to follow but your feet were nailed to the floor by some unseen force. Jimin saw you frozen, your eyes wide and turned to you grabbing your hand, his brows furrowed in concern. “Jagiya what’s wrong?” He asked. You shake your head realizing you had to admit your fear. “I don’t like crowds. I don’t do well in them.” You said starting to hyperventilate. Realizing you were afraid Jimin hugged you and kissed the top of your head. “I’m right here beside you. Hold onto me and we’ll get through this together okay?” He said in a calm tone. You nodded and clasped your hand in his and then you began to walk once more. When the door opened you felt your heart stop. There were hundreds of fans crowding the exit to the arena. You could just barely see where the van was. The path was only a few yards but the jungle of fans made it seem so much farther. You gripped onto Jimin for dear life as the fans screamed louder seeing their beloved idols. Then began the journey. You and Jimin were in the middle. In front of you were Jungkook, J-Hope and RM who were behind Sejin at the very front. Behind you, bringing up the rear were Yoongi, V and Jin along with the guards who were behind them, making sure none of the fans tried to get through and grab them from behind. You felt like you were in the ocean and the tide was pushing and pulling you. Even though not many of the fans were able to get you, you could feel the energy and force they were pushing on the security team who were trying to keep them at bay. “It’s all right (Y/N).” Jimin said in your ear. “We’re almost there. I’ve got you Jagiya.” This seemed to calm you and comfort you and you were feeling better as you took the next step. But then it got bad. Suddenly you were jerked back roughly, nearly falling back. A fan had grabbed your hood in attempt to grab at Jimin and feeling something in their palm had instinctively pulled at it. With a yelp you felt your airways being blocked as they tugged hard. Jimin saw this and cried out in alarm before a guard quickly removed the fans hand and Jimin grabbed you pulling you towards him as you gasped to regain your breath. The tension was getting higher as the fans became more forceful. Picking up the pace you kept your head down, clinging to Jimin for dear life. “Jiminie! I love you oppa!” “Yoongi!” “Worldwide Handsome!” The cries and screams were coming from all over. Your head rang as you made your way through the crowd at what seemed a snail's pace. You didn’t realize it but you were right in front of the van now. All this time Sejin the manager had seen how startled and like a deer in headlights you looked and had somehow gotten you and Jimin to the front of the group. Jimin got you into the very back seat of the van and stepped in behind you. Your hands were shaking so badly that as you tried to buckle yourself in you weren’t able to stick the metal clasp into the slot. Jimin saw this and put his hands over yours and you looked up at him to see him gazing at you lovingly. He then buckled you in himself. “Are you alright Jagiya?” He asked cupping your face in his hands. You nodded quickly. “I will be.” You said shakily. “Here.” Looking up you saw everyone had piled in and the doors to the vehicle had been shut. Seijin who was the one who had spoken was passing a water bottle to the back. Yoongi who was in front of you took it from Jin and turned and handed it to you. You gave him a nod in thanks. “We did well out there everyone.” Seijin said. He then glanced at you. “You too (Y/N). I know that was a lot to handle but you did well.” He said giving you a comforting smile before turning towards the front. As you got underway, you began to calm down and settle. Jimin kept a close eye on you just in case and cuddled you in the back as you leaned your head on his chest. Then quietly in your ear so nobody else heard he whispered, “I’ll always make sure you’re safe. No matter what.”

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victorluvsalice · 4 years

Text

AU Thursday: Fallout of Darkness -- Another Meme

I unfortunately don’t recall where I got this one, though I do remember picking it up in the #fallout 4 tag -- I think a number of people were using it for their Sole Survivors. Which is what I did! With the added twist of “let me do this universe’s Alice as well!” So you get double the information for the same price! :P

Note: This is vaguely set I’d say about halfway through the plot of Fallout 4 -- Victor and Alice have had the run-in with Ug-Qualtoth and gotten Alice sunlight immunity (see this post for more details), and they’ve met at least most of the other companions. Also yes, pets -- Victor does indeed adopt the “wounded dog” encounter in my verse! (And if anyone knows of a mod that lets you send her to a settlement for real. . .) Please remember I haven’t actually played much of the main plot myself, so things may be a little vague/prone to changing once I get further in!

name ➔

V: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort – my mother wanted me to have an "aristocratic" middle name, for some reason.

A: Alice Pleasance Liddell – yes, just like the historical Alice. I guess after Lizzie decided I should be "Alice," my parents decided to go whole hog with the reference.

are you single ➔

V: [with a warm look at Alice] No, I'm not.

A: [with a warm look back] Not anymore.

are you happy ➔

V: [still with that warm look at Alice] Very much so.

A: [smiling] A lot happier than I was in the past, that's for sure. Which is kind of sad, given it's post the nuclear apocalypse now. . .

are you angry ➔

V: [thoughtful] I – I was for a while. Not so much anymore – the worst of it has cooled. But – there's some things I think I'll always be angry about.

A: I think my answer's about the same. Given some of the nonsense we've been through, some low-level anger is just to be expected, honestly.

are your parents still married ➔

V: . . .they were when the bombs dropped.

A: Mine were when that bastard Bumby set our house on fire to cover up what he'd done to my sister.

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔

V: Burtonsville – it's a tiny village in England. I don't actually remember it, though – my parents moved to Boston when I was only about a year and a half old. I grew up here in Boston and the surrounding area.

A: Oxford, England – my father was the Dean of Christ Church at the college when he was alive. I have fond memories, but I haven't been back since the fire.

hair color ➔

V: Black. Mother occasionally insisted it was dark brown, but – black.

A: Black, though weirdly I actually was almost a redhead as a child. It darkened straight through brown to this as I grew up. I've never been sure why it got so dark, though I suspect all that time lying in Rutledge, getting probably-inadequate nutrition and light for a growing girl, didn't help matters.

eye color ➔

V: Dark brown.

A: Green, though Victor likes being poetic with descriptions like "emerald fire" sometimes.

mood ➔

V: . . .er – generally anxious? Trying to be helpful regardless?

A: Sarcastic? To hide that I'm more worried than I let on?

gender ➔

V: Male, he/him.

A: Female, she/her.

summer or winter ➔

V: Summer – I'm not a fan of the cold. Though spring's my actual favorite season – I love seeing everything come back to life.

A: I feel like I should like winter more, because of the longer nights, but now that we've actually fixed the sunlight issue. . .yes, summer. I'm not really a fan of the cold either.

morning or afternoon ➔

V: Afternoon – I've never been that much of a morning person, and mornings tend to be – stressful in the Commonwealth.

A: To be fair, so are the afternoons, but – yes, generally you're not dealing with threats still wiping the sleep from your eyes in said afternoons. And in my case, they're closer to night, which is still the time when I feel most myself, so. . .

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔

V: [exchanging a very warm look with Alice] Yes.

A: [giving it right back] Very much so.

do you believe in love at first sight ➔

V: Maybe not true love, but attraction? A sense of connection, kinship? Certainly – that's how I felt when I first met Victoria, and later Emily.

A: I can get behind that – my mother said she felt a pull toward my father when they first met. . .but I don't think love at first sight exists. You need to get to know someone – form a solid bond first.

who ended your last relationship ➔

V: [darkly cheerful] The American and Chinese governments, throwing nuclear missiles at each other! [sighing] No, that’s not quite fair – yes, they drove us into Vault 111, but the ones who actually murdered my wife and girlfriend were Kellogg and the Institute. The former more obviously than the latter, but. . . [voice cracks] Damn it, what was wrong with putting everyone's life support back on. . .

A: [puts a comforting hand on his arm] In my case, I never really had a romantic relationship before – even friendships were kind of fleeting, or long-distance. I've gone along with flirtations in the past to get meals, sure, but none of those ever turned into relationships. The closest I had was – well, Heather getting blood-bonded to me, which I didn't even mean to do. I was just trying to help her, and I didn't realize at the time. . . [bites her lip] I ended that – sent her away before she could get hurt by my enemies, explaining that what would make me happiest would be for her to be with her grandmother and stay in college. I wanted to go back and maybe try to help her some more once I was done with LaCroix's bullshit, but then. . .I hope she had a good life, in the end.

have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔

V: Not knowingly – goodness, what started off my, Victoria, and Emily's threesome relationship was an attempt not to break anyone's heart! It worked out very well, until. . . [shakes his head]

A: [squeezes his arm gently] I probably broke Heather's heart by sending her away – she looked so sad as she walked out the door. But it was for the best – I dread to think what would have happened to her if the Sabbat had realized I had a ghoul! Other than that – depends on if anyone I've drunk from was hoping for more than just a "quickie." I doubt that, though.

are you afraid of commitments ➔

V: I'm afraid of them being forced on me because of people randomly promoting me every time I even get close to an organization. [sighing, reaching up to fiddle with a chain around his neck] But – maybe a little. Seeing – seeing your wife get shot in front of you. . .then your girlfriend's half-rotted corpse beside her. . .it sticks with you.

A: [nods] Being the only survivor of the house fire that killed your family sticks with you too. As does two of the most prominent men in your life being the bastard who killed them and was trying to wipe your mind, and the bastard who killed you and turned you into a bloodsucker. Add in my own rather unromantic nature, and – yes, I did pretty much avoid commitments for a while. [smiles at Victor] I think I'm a little better about it now, though.

have you hugged someone in the last week ➔

V: Oh, yes – Preston and Piper just the other day, in fact!

A: I'm not usually much of one for being touched, so I don't hug much. . . [thinks for a moment, then hugs Victor] But I'll happily make the answer a "yes" in this case.

have you ever had a secret admirer ➔

V: Does the brief period of time where Emily was crushing on me before Victoria noticed and decided to let her and me know it was okay if we wanted to date too count? Otherwise, I really don't think so. I wasn't popular with girls before meeting Victoria.

A: Bumby never made it clear whether he wanted to just turn me into a prostitute or fuck me himself as well, but I wouldn't count him anyway, because he was a horrible waste of flesh. So I have no idea – don't think so. Heather was – very open about her admiration.

have you ever broken your own heart ➔

V: Again, what happened between me, Victoria, and Emily was an attempt to avoid that. . .I can't say I have. It seems like others always break it for me.

A: Sending Heather away did hurt me a bit – not in the same way it hurt her, but it was nice to have someone else around the haven. . . [looks up at Victor] And I did resist romance initially here. Fortunately tall, dark, and handsome here didn't let me break my own heart.

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔

V: Love, definitely. [going pink] I mean, lust can be nice, but. . .

A: Love – even alive, I wasn't particularly interested in sex. And as a vampire, any urges that way now go toward sucking on people's necks. Which I guess is sex-adjacent, but still. . . Maybe "love" for serious relationships, "lust" for getting a meal.

lemonade or iced tea ➔

V: Oh, I haven't had either in ages. . .and I recall needing a lot of sugar for both to enjoy them. . .I guess lemonade. I think I had that more often.

A: Literally can't drink either these days, for multiple reasons. . .but I'm going with lemonade because I have fonder memories of that. And – hmmm. I wonder if it’s possible to make a variation with that “plasma fruit” Ted came up with at Wildwood Cemetery. . .

cats or dogs ➔

V: Dogs! I had a dog growing up, Scraps, who was my best friend! And Victoria, Emily, and I were going to get a dog shortly after. . . [pause, shakes head] And now I have Dogmeat and Mutt! They’re a good pair.

A: Cats! My best friends growing up were the family cat, Dinah, and her two kittens, Snowdrop and Kitty. Being a vampire does tend to make animals rather mistrustful of me, sadly, but I had some luck feeding ferals pre-War. And we managed to trap a cat recently who didn’t immediately try to claw me and run away – I’ve named her Kit-Kat.

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔

V: A few best friends – I'm n-not good with lots of people, and I just. . .I'm always so awkward, s-socially. I'd rather have a couple of people I know I can trust.

A: The same – I don't trust easily, after all the bullshit I've been through. Give me a small circle of people I know have my back over a larger group of more casual friends any day.

wild night out or romantic night in ➔

V: Romantic night in. I'm not much for parties. I like staying home with the people I love and just – being together.

A: Sort of like "love or lust" above, this kind of depends. I like a romantic night in for any actual relationships, but I did my fair share of clubbing to find someone to drink from back in the day.

day or night ➔

V: Well, I do like a good sunny day, but. . . [looking at Alice] I've really come to appreciate the nights in the Commonwealth. And not just because of the stars.

A: [smirking at him] Flatterer. . .but yes, night. For the longest time, it was the only time of day I could be out in. . .and even though it's wonderful now to be able to go out during the day and enjoy that, night is still when I feel most myself.

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔

Victor: No, but that's because I never did. I grew up in the middle of a plague – I didn't have much incentive to sneak out! It took until I was fourteen for cases to drop enough in our part of Boston for my parents to be comfortable sending me to a school with other children, and by then I was so used to staying at home, sneaking out never occurred to me.

Alice: Oh god, yes, the New Plague, that was horrific. . .on my end, yes, I was. I tried to sneak out a couple of times as a small child to have adventures in the garden late at night or in the middle of storms. . .if my parents didn't catch me, though, my older sister did. I think I only actually got outside once, and even then it was only for a couple of minutes before Lizzie caught up with me. Mostly because she was trying to sneak out too, and didn't want her little sister tagging along.

fallen down/up the stairs ➔

Victor: . . .yes. To both. I – I can be pretty clumsy if I'm n-not paying attention to where I'm going.

Alice: [giving him an odd look] I've fallen down stairs – rushing around as a child on imaginary adventures – but never up. I'm – not entirely sure how you manage that.

wanted something/someone so badly it hurt ➔

V: [tugging at the chain around his neck again, which is revealed to have a blue butterfly pendant and a gold wedding ring strung on it] Yes. Something I can't have, I'm sad to say.

A: [playing with her own necklace, which is an old iron key shaped like the symbol for Venus] Same here. I'd like to think your Victoria and Emily and my parents and Lizzie are in the same place, at least.

wanted to disappear ➔

V: Oh, plenty of times. I have an unfortunate knack for saying the wrong thing and then wishing I could melt into the floor. And – well, I suppose every time I've been hiding from enemies and wanted to just turn invisible counts. . .

A: I wanted to disappear in the asylum a couple of times, in the sense of 'just stop existing.' Survivor's guilt does a number on your brain, let me tell you. . .though I can actually disappear these days, thanks to Obfuscate! Though, annoyingly, I genuinely can't do it if someone's looking.

smile or eyes ➔

V: Oh, back to these? [thoughtful] I – honestly, I think eyes. Victoria and Emily's eyes are one of the things I remember best about them. . . [smiles at Alice] And my current paramour has some of the most beautiful eyes in the Commonwealth.

A: You're going to make me blush despite being dead if you keep on like that. Though, what's good for the goose is good for the gander – while I like your eyes, it's your smile that really warms my undead heart.

shorter or taller ➔

V: Um – shorter out of necessity. I haven't met many women who are six-foot-three.

A: Similarly, I'm five-foot-five, so I kind of have to go taller.

intelligence or attraction ➔

V: . . .I assume this means intelligence or looks, and – I can't deny I like a pretty face, but the main reason I got together with the women I did is because I could hold a good conversation with them. Intelligence.

A: My attraction seems to be based on actually getting to know a person, and I don't suffer fools gladly. Intelligence all the way.

hook-up or relationship ➔

V: Oh, relationship. I never had a hook-up. I can't – I can't just do the "one night stand" thing. I need something a little more.

A: Another one where my actual feelings versus how I'd act to get a meal clash – though admittedly, I never had a "proper" hook-up. I'd just get someone in a quiet spot, suck a bit of blood, and let them get on with their lives. But now that things are better, I'm only too happy to commit myself to a real relationship.

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔

V: Well, it’s something of a moot point now, but. . . [he waggles a hand, making a face] I have to admit, I never liked my parents much. They weren’t very “hands-on” in raising me, and I often felt like they considered me a burden. Or a bargaining chip for social status. I did my best not to rock the boat just because upsetting my mother never ended well, but. . . [sigh] It wasn’t good.

A: By contrast, I had a perfectly lovely family life – my parents were kind and encouraged my sister and I in our various pursuits, and Lizzie. . .she was the best older sister a girl could have. I felt like I could tell her anything, and even if the age difference made playing together difficult, she did try whenever she had a spare moment. The reason I have such an “enthusiastic” imagination is because Mama, Papa, and Lizzie never tried to stifle it. I was – I felt so loved and happy the first eight years of my life. . .and then Bumby took it all away. [she looks away] I – it’s not fair.

would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔

V: [completely deadpan] I was frozen at the age of 27 in a vault designed to store people long-term for unknown reasons, and was finally thawed 210 years later, to find my wife and girlfriend dead, my son kidnapped, and the world above having been turned into a wasteland of vicious wildlife, super mutants, and raiders. With parts of it still irradiated because people are STILL launching small nuclear missiles at each other. Also the people who kidnapped my son can apparently make synthetic humans and use them as spies. And in the middle of all this, I’ve somehow ended up the leader of a bunch of little farms and such that composes a ragtag peacekeeping force that is still better than the actual assholes in power armor who have moved in. You tell me.

A: I can top that – turned into a vampire at age 20 after moving to Los Angeles to make sure I was far away from a murder I’d committed, then ended up roaming the world after a literally-explosive end to my time there as everyone’s errand boy. Was in Boston when the bombs dropped and got staked when my hidey-hole collapsed in on me, meaning I too got essentially “frozen” for 210 years, until a raider attacking this fellow here yanked the stake out and I responded by sucking him dry. Leaving me in a post-nuclear apocalypse trying to survive in a world where anyone’s blood might be at least slightly radioactive. Also we discovered that vampires are in fact the result of a little bit of some Lovecraftian horror worshiped by the people over at Dunwich Borers leaking into our world and infecting our souls. So that’s fun.

have you ever run away from home ➔

V: No – again, grew up in a plague, never really wanted to leave the house because of it.

A: I threatened to, once or twice, when upset, but I never followed through. Though I guess my moving to California could be construed as a kind of running away after I killed Bumby. . .but I never thought of Houndsditch as home. Same with Los Angeles, after I left there in the wake of that mess with LaCroix.

have you ever gotten kicked out ➔

V: No, though – sometimes I thought my mother was thinking about it. Whenever my social awkwardness reared its ugly head at one of her parties.

A: My parents were never the sort to do that, and Bumby of course wanted me close at Houndsditch. And I left polite vampire society on my own terms after LaCroix.

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔

V: . . .I’m not entirely sure how to classify my relationship with Strong. But I know he thinks more highly of me than I do of him. I – I try to be understanding, but it gets very tiring to listen to him go on about how one day Super Mutants will kill everything.

A: I had to be a lot friendlier to a lot people back in Los Angeles than I would have liked. . .but I don’t think any of them were laboring under the delusion we were actual friends. So no – if I don’t like you, I don’t hide it.

who is your best friend ➔

V: Alice, Preston, and Piper, definitely – they’re the ones I’ve traveled the most with, shared the most with, and just – feel the most comfortable around. [smiles] Oh, and Dogmeat of course.

A: Victor’s definitely my best friend – and frankly, I feel pretty close to Piper and Preston myself. They’re good people. [she smirks] Though Hancock and Nick are definitely the best people to snark with.

who knows everything about you ➔

V: Probably most of the people in the Commonwealth, I’ve had to explain about being frozen and what happened to my son a lot. . .more seriously, I’d say the above three. They’re the people I’m closest to, and the ones I’m most comfortable sharing information with.

A: I don’t know about everything, but – yes, Victor. And probably Piper knows the most after him, given she wanted to interview me for her paper.

#memes #fallout of darkness #tell me where to find shelter #(keeping that old tag for ease of use for the moment)#fallout 4 #vtmb #hopefully this isn't too confusing for everyone #Ted is supposed to be the Tremere living at Wildwood Cemetery along with the other 'rejected Bloodlines Protagonists'#and yes he made Plasma Fruit #because if I'm going all in with this crossover I will go ALL IN #I have a nasty feeling living through coronavirus is going to inspire me whenever I have to write about Fallout's various diseases #also its government #also yes Victor's opinion on Strong is my own #dude I'm trying to like you buuut #Piper and Preston are my current fave companions #but please remember I am kinda stuck in early days in the game itself #we'll see how things evolve as I take on other companions!#however Ada will be respected around here among the robots #she deserves better #queued

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