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queers-gambit · 8 months

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And Let Me Love You Anyway

[ part two of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader only description given: red hair and Daemon's able to lift you

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part one: "Tell Me Every Terrible Thing you ever did, And let me love you anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"Alicent, we're late," you sighed with a frown, wiping your sweaty palms nervously as your necklace was latched in place and perfume spritzed on your pulse points. YES - that included your ankles.

"That's the point, sister, we're supposed to be late. It sends a message."

Your eyes rolled, snipping, "The King will not be pleased. I am not his wife, he can get angry at me, you know!"

"He'll manage," she snapped, glancing at Talya. She continued, "He dismissed Father for telling him a truth he would rather ignore. So much so, after years of service, he'd - "

"Yes, yes, the King removed Father as Hand, sent him back home," you nodded with understanding. "But we both know how he feels about his daughter, The Princess! The rumors circulating would cost him his life in the end, we are lucky he was only sent home!"

"Rumors! Rumors, sister, truly!? Tell me, do you think Father lied?"

"I know he didn't."

"Exactly why we're late to tonight's affair," she huffed, fixing her hair in the mirror again. "It's a statement, it's deliberate. We will stand out, prove we are not happy with the turn of events. Why offer Rhaenyra blind respect when she continues to do as she pleases - regardless of consequences."

You paused, sensing her anger brewing and trying to distract, "You know, Ser Lyonel Strong is not a bad replacement for Father."

"This is not about Ser Strong."

"Isn't it? Father's served long and faithfully, but perhaps it is time for a new guidance. Lyonel Strong is a smart man - qualified, even!"

"Yes," she agreed, turning to face you in a shimmering emerald gown. "But this is still an injustice to our family that I fear I cannot overlook any longer. It's been weeks..."

"Yes," you allotted, nodding with a sigh. "All right, yes, you are right, sweet sister. This is all just - it's a lot to take in, to try and digest. And we talk of playing a game with the Throne - I do not think we've the strength to endure alone."

"This is not about Lyonel Strong, sister! It's about Father and the disrespect the Crown continues to offer. Remember that," she advised softly.

You nodded, "I know, sister."

She frowned, "And remember... They aren't our kin. Despite previous displays of kindness, the Targaryens have made it clear that we are not family to them. They are not blood to us, sister; they will protect their own, not us. If we wish to survive, we will need to ally ourselves."

"I understand," you told your younger sister. "I am not arguing, I know what our reality is now - I merely implore to explore the routes that won't label us as traitors."

"I know, we have much to discuss going forward. But none of that for now," she took a long breath, smiling as she looked you up and down, complimenting, "you look stunning. Truly, you might outshine the bride tonight."

"Let's hope it doesn't come down to that, and that The Princess has a mature bone in her body - though I do not hold out hope." You smiled at her, "But enough about me, you look - you look like a Queen, sister-dearest. Gods, you're gorgeous, you look just like Mummy." The two of you shared an emotional, watery smile; embracing tightly as reality settled in your guts: it was you two Hightower Ladies against the whole of the Targaryen clan. "Come," you decided, taking a deep breath, "are we ready to go? Any later and I fear we might not get any cake."

"Oh, you and cake," she smirked, looking you over in a matching emerald, lighter-weight gown that had layers of thin fabrics clinging and dripping from your form. Golden jewelry was clasped around both your necks, wrists, tight around your fingers, and plugged into your ear piercings.

The Queen took your arm and left the dressing chambers you took refuge in, coming to a gasping halt when you were greeted by a well-groomed man in green velvet. "Father," Alicent exclaimed in shock.

"My daughters," he smiled, offering both arms, "I do believe we are now fashionably late. Hmm?"

"Exactly as we intended," you mused, taking his arm. "How is this possible? How are you here?"

"I was invited, if you believe that," Otto answered, the three of you walking slowly. "Though, I suspect your sister had something to do with that?"

"I only told Viserys I'd be deeply offended if you were ignored for this event," Alicent quipped.

"None the less, I am happy to escort my daughters to such a historic event," he spoke diplomatically, aware of the guards and servants milling around. Otto lead the way to the Throne Room - where you could hear King Viserys' echoing speech from the foyer.

None of you spoke, approaching the open doors and pausing to let everyone see the united Hightowers. Alicent wore her dark auburn locks pulled back from her face to cascade in thick ringlets down her back, your own Hightower-red hair left down around your face with the longer locks pinned off your neck. The entire room - the entire court - all wedding attendees and royal procession stared at you three in shock for entering during the King's speech. Your statement was clearly made.

Even from this distance, you could see how startled Rhaenyra was by your arrival, needing to fight off a smirk of amusement in order to keep your neutral façade.

You and Alicent walked arm-in-arm with your father, the once-Hand, down the stairs and up the aisle of banquet tables full of people, staring forward and giving no emotion away. The people buzzed in quiet gossip. The attending Hightowers of Oldtown, sitting closest to the royal banquet table because of their relation to the current Queen, stood first; everyone else following in a show of respect.

You and Alicent paused to let Otto sit with his relatives at the lower banquet table before joining arm-and-arm together. Over the muttering of the entire room, you whispered almost mutely, "Be kind, remain composed, we'll kill 'em with kindness."

Alicent gave a subtle flex to give indication she understood.

When you looked up at the table you approached under the King's heavy glare, you noticed there was an empty chair between Ser Strong and... Prince Daemon? Was that really him? When did he get here? Why was he back? It's only been a few weeks!

Your shock did not slow you, and as you approached the table reserved for the Royal Family, you saw Daemon smirking at your theatrics. Alicent did not let you part from her side as she greeted Princess Rhaenyra with a sickly-sweet voice, "Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you."

She ignored any other reaction to let go of your arm, kiss her husband's cheek in greeting, stand beside him, in front of her chair, and stare forward with zero other emotion.

"Congratulations, Princess," you whispered, bowing your head. "Your Grace," you acknowledged, doing the same and taking the empty chair between Lord Hand and Rogue Prince only to stoically stare forward in silence. You did as Alicent did, not looking at any other, and just waiting for a pregnant moment that seemingly never ended.

"Please be seated," Viserys finally permitted, everyone sitting at his behest. He cleared his throat, whispering to Lyonel Strong, "Where was I?"

"The joining of the two Houses, Your Grace."

You swallowed when a warm hand laid on your right thigh, Viserys continuing his speech. You glanced at Daemon, seeing his smirk, and instead of throwing his hand off you, you laid your own over his to give a long squeeze. You had wrestled with the idea of his favorite whore, Mysaria, and the idea of whatever he did with Princess Rhaenyra for weeks. Then when you heard word that his wife, Lady Rhea Royce, had met her untimely end, you knew he was involved, yet said nothing. You could only think deeply about what it all meant - and how you fit into the equation that was Prince Daemon Targaryen.

Tell me every terrible thing you ever did...

All you could understand was the overwhelming affection you held for him. His shocked-wide-eyes found yours for a long moment, seeming communicating telepathically - you telling him you wanted him. His hand tightened to keep hold of yours, hidden from the public for the time being.

And let me love you anyway...

You tuned back into the King's speech in time to clap with the others, showing your support of the union you technically helped influence between Targaryen and Velaryon.

However, you caught the way Alicent glared at Rhaenyra, sighing to yourself; having heard through long private dinners what Alicent came to know and why this upset her so much. How strange to learn Ser Criston Cole admitted to Ali that he was coerced into soiling the Princess' purity - not her Uncle Daemon, like rumored. Yet none the less, the girl had sworn on her beloved, dearly departed mother to Alicent that she was still a maiden... A huge, glaring lie - that both you and Ali took personally.

You found all of this terribly interesting, yet did not let the distain show so boldly. After Daemon came to you in confession, you had yet to speak a word outside of public politeness to the Princess; feeling betrayed by what your lover had told you. He had been right: you were Rhaenyra's friend, she wasn't yours. So, you demoted yourself to create distance.

When the drums rumbled and the Princess took to the dance floor with her intended, you spared Daemon a look and muttered, "You do not have to look so annoyed."

"I'm not, sweet one."

"Nor so amused," you tacked on.

Daemon smirked at you, leaning in and pondering, "I am only wondering if you would care for a dance later, my Lady?"

You lied, speaking in a teasing tone, "I'm not one for dancing, my Prince."

"A single dance with me, then. Just one, pretty lady."

"You're pushy," you whispered, nudging him to keep quiet; but the grin on your lips assured him you were completely enraptured by his antics.

He sat back with a smirk, watching his niece and her fiancé dance. The entire courtroom clapped at the end, others flooding to the spaces around them. You glanced over as your sister stood from her seat, meeting your eyes and offering only a soft smile before descending from the table to approach your aunt and uncle from Oldtown - standing with your father on the side of the room. You sighed under your breath, your lover tightening his grip on your thigh.

Daemon made for a great distraction. "Did you hear the news?" He asked softly, reaching for his goblet of wine with his free hand.

"Which news would that be, my Prince?" You asked casually, pretending your heart wasn't hammering in your chest.

"Of my dear wife's passing."

"I did, actually," you fought off your smirk. "I am truly sorry to hear of it, I understand Lady Rhea was truly one of a kind. You shouldn't speak ill of the dead, love," you reminded in a whisper.

"Hmm. Don't be sorry, I'm not," he eased.

"You're not? Your wife died, Daemon..."

"I know," he met your gaze, "I'm not sorry because now it gives me vocation to follow my own desires."

You smirked, "Which desire will you follow first?"

His hand tightened to a bruising grip. He was not able to answer yet because your gaze was caught by movement, Rhea Royce's cousin approaching slowly, evidently a cup or two deep in the wine; making you remove Daemon's hand so you both could sit casually - without touching.

The man gruffly leered at Daemon, "In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes." Your lover spared you an exasperated look as he tacked on, "Even Targaryens."

"Who are you?" Daemon asked dully.

"This is Ser Gerold Royce, my Prince," you told him softly, "of Runestone."

Daemon perked his brow, asking sarcastically, "An excellent show of your knowledge, my sweet lady, but what does that matter to me?"

You didn't answer, Ser Lyoel Strong (who was listening in) didn't answer, because Ser Gerold was approaching the table by climbing the stairs. He growled at Daemon, "I am cousin to your late Lady wife."

"Ah, yes... Terrible thing," Daemon offered. "I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident."

"You know better than anyone, it was no accident."

Through a smirk, Daemon quipped, "Are you confessing some guilt, Ger Gerold?"

"I am making an accusation."

You shared a look with Lyonel to your left, catching sight of the King's turned head - showing he was listening, too. Daemon easily deflected, "Here, in King's Landing, men are made to answer for their slanders. Even old bronze cunts like you." This angered Ser Gerold visibly, the man stepping closer, but obviously restrained himself. Your lover continued, "The truth is I'm glad you've come. I wish to speak to you about my inheritance."

"What inheritance?" Ser Gerold demanded.

"Lady Rhea and I had no heirs. As her husband, whatever she was due now passes to me. She stood to inherit all of Runestone. Did she not?" Daemon had Ser Gerold pinned by legality, the man looking disturbed by his own realization. So, naturally, Daemon taunted, "After my niece's wedding, I plan to fly to the Eyrie and petition Lady Jeyne myself. Perhaps I'll see you there, Ser Gerold."

The man sheepishly walked away, his inebriated mind whirling with possibilities. You glared, pinching Daemon's arm so you could scold him when he turned to face you, "That wasn't very kind."

"And?"

"You don't truly care for Runestone," you snapped. "Now that man will fear for his home, fret over the laws, and that's not very nice."

He sighed, "What would you have me do, sweet one?"

"Leave House Royce to grieve and rearrange their succession without your pettiness."

Daemon smirked, "Whatever my Lady wants."

"You're dreadfully annoying tonight, do you know that?" You whined. "I'm going for a dance, and no, this is not an invitation to follow," you warned him - albeit playfully - before standing to excuse yourself.

"Sister," Alicent paused you before you could pass her by. "Are you well?"

"Yes, yes, just felt like dancing, too much energy to just sit. Come join - "

"No, no, I should sit. Eat," she smiled. "Perhaps tonight will be when you meet your match and we can plan another wedding."

"Perhaps," you mused, squeezing her hand. "You all right? What did Father and Uncle say?"

"Later," she whispered. "Go on, go."

You joined the stream of people dancing, instantly grinning when you were welcomed joyfully by different suitors. The band played a lively beat, the crowd cheering in rhythm; you being twirled around men and women with matching grins.

You heard your name being cheered through a small giggle.

"Hi, Princess," you greeted Rhaenyra as you both marched along to the beat. You reminded yourself this was all a game and if you wanted to survive, you'd have to play your part strategically. So, you quipped as you danced with Ser Arryn Blackwell, "Nice party you've got, huh?"

"Oh, you know how we Targaryens do," she teased. "Where've you been lately? I feel as if I've hardly seen you."

"Just busy with chores since Father was replaced as Hand," you answered, spinning under someone's arm.

Nyra didn't comment on that, instead, waiting a few moments before complimenting, "That's a beautiful dress, really goes with your hair!"

"That's what I hoped for," you gasped girlishly, deciding to play nice when she reached for your hands. You felt weak for a moment, but the truth was, you missed your friend... So, you might've giggled a bit when you joined hands, dancing together instead of with anyone else. With kindness, you offered, "You look gorgeous, as well, Princess, I love this dress - "

"Yes, yes, we all look fantastic," Daemon interrupted abruptly, crowding over you, asking quickly, "can I speak to you a moment, my Lady? The Princess won't mind, right, Rhaenyra?"

"Uh, no, I guess..." She eyed the two of you with suspicion as she stayed in-beat with the music.

"Daemon, not now - "

"We need to talk," he pulled you from where you danced, glancing back at the head banquet table as he took your hand, and lead you deeper into the crowd. He turned you to face him, pacing a small circle around you, demanding, "Do you still want to marry me?"

"What? Why are you asking now?"

"Because I just asked your father for permission," he seethed, pausing in front of you, "and he outright refused, saying he's negotiating with the fucking Lannisters. I need to know what you want."

"I was not aware what I wanted mattered to you, the man who views marriage as a political arrangement," you eyed him with a curled lip of annoyance.

"What arrangement could I want? Your sister is Queen, my family is bound to the Hightowers already. My political marriage is recently dissolved, I am free to do as I please, regardless of what others want or say - "

"Then tell me what you want. Tell me plainly what you want from me, Daemon, no more pretty words and veiled truths. Be plain."

"You said I had a year, and look - it's been weeks. Weeks, my love, how much more plain can I be? I'm here, now, free to marry, and I need to know if you still want to marry me. I'll marry you tomorrow - "

"Oh, please! Would you steal me away?" You mocked with a chuckle. "Take me to Dragonstone? Make me your little wife that you'll come to resent, too? Just as you did Rhea?"

He reached out to aggressively hold your cheek and jaw. "I had no choice in my first marriage, I could never come to resent you - you're all I've ever wanted. I'd do anything for you," Daemon snarled over your lips, "including risking your father's wrath. I'd do anything to make sure we end up together, you are my heart - do not forget that."

"Then pull out your sword, cut them all down," you purred, feeling his hand tighten, "and claim me as your own - do not let anyone stop us."

His lips hovered over yours, breathing the same air, and before he could respond or kiss you, a woman screamed shrilly from behind you. Daemon instantly latched onto your body as a crowd formed to your left and right, and when you both looked, you were shocked to see the commotion happening at your feet.

"Love - "

"Daemon," you paused him, shocked as Ser Criston Cole was engaged in a fist fight with some Velaryon knight before Ser Laenor Velaryon, the groom, was tackling him to the side. What an interesting display of protectiveness from Ser Laenor over his knight.

Daemon rushed in your ear, "Do not look - come away with me."

"Wait," you held his hands to your waist, letting him crowd into your back as Cole had punched Laenor to the side and straddled the blonde on the floor once more.

He landed one blow before the knight was brandishing a dagger; but the White Cloak caught his arm and easily snapped it broken, startling the crowd. Beyond your ring of spectators, other men were trading blows and engaged in their own fights; total chaos taking over the whole of the Throne Room. You flinched back into Daemon's embrace when Cole screamed like a wild man in the mountains, repeatedly pounding his fist into the knight's face; literally caving it in, creating a human minced meat pie.

Someone better contact Mrs. Lovett!

"No more," Daemon decided, Cole rearing himself back as Daemon stooped to heave you over his shoulder. He was able to find safe (enough) passage through the people, approaching the royal banquet table. "Hey, hey," he whispered, setting you down and taking your face in his hands, the wailing of Laenor Velaryon seeing his murdered knight echoing in the Throne Room. "You all right? You hurt? Look at me, love, are you hurt?"

"No, no, I'm okay," you whispered, swallowing unsurely; reaching up to hold his wrists. "I'm okay."

"Sure? You shouldn't have seen that - "

"It's all right," you assured, stroking his wrists. "I'm okay, Daemon, truly. Just... A little startled, maybe?"

"What's this then?" Harwin Strong smirked, panting lightly from his rescue mission as the Princess was attending her father, the King. "You two hit it off then, yeah? Is it me or are sparks flying?"

"Something like that," you whispered, trying to regulate your breathing after the adrenaline-inducing scrimmage.

"Easy does it, love," Daemon whispered, keeping you close as you didn't let go of his hands; wanting to stay connected. He told Harwin, giving a half-shrug, "They aren't sparks. She's everything to me."

"Perhaps your second wedding will go better than this one," Harwin sighed, hands on his hips.

"In some cultures, deaths at a wedding are considered good luck," you muttered, Daemon snorting lightly in amusement before running his thumbs over your cheekbones in soothing gestures.

"Didn't your wife just pass, Prince Daemon?" Your father demanded publicly with a heavy glare. "You'd offer insult to her memory by remarrying so quickly?"

"I've grieved Lady Rhea plenty, Ser Hightower, it's time to look to the future," Daemon declared, eyes daring your father to challenge him. "The Lady Hightower and I will wed. The sooner, the better, in truth."

And history would never be the same.

"What?" Rhaenyra demanded, whirling around at the news, making all others pause in confusion. "What did you say?"

"That I intend to marry the Lady Hightower."

"Her? Her? Fucking her - who is more prude than woman?!"

Well, that was mildly offensive...

"Rhaenyra - "

"What makes you think you're worthy?" She demanded of you, turning from her father to stalk across the platform. "Worthy of a man like Daemon, of a husband like Daemon? You've done nothing to - to deserve such a title! The title of Princess, of wife!"

You were honestly confused to your core.

"I deserve a man like he - not someone like you!" She continued, shocking the group as the Kingsguard cleared the Room of any lingering stragglers to keep this as private as possible. "You think I didn't see you on my tour? You were fawned over, all wanted to talk with you, but were forced to line up for me! You rejected them all on your own, and now I see why! You wanted to wait until the Lady Rhea passed, which makes me wonder - what part did you play in that?"

"Rhaenyra!" You gasped.

"What? Honestly, it would make sense - the day Daemon's banished, you weren't seen! I wouldn't be shocked if you were seen somewhere lurking in the Vale! You cannot have it all - you've always wanted my life, and now look! You have to have what I have, and now you've taken a liking to my uncle after our scandal! What? He wasn't interesting before? You heard rumors about us and decided you wanted him for yourself? Just because he was mine first? You just want to be me, you always have - you've always reeked of jealousy! This is all you wanted, to steal my family, and - "

"That's enough," Daemon tried. "You are out of turn here, Rhaenyra, do not make this worse."

"Why? Because little Lady Hightower's façade of being a respectable, pure woman is now tarnished?"

"We share one dance, albeit intimate, sit next to each other at a single dinner, shared some conversation, and you now think it's appropriate to call my virtue into question? What of your own, Princess? You just admitted to scandal with Daemon - but I wonder why the service of Moon Tea if your virtue was unimpeachable?" You demanded, feeling defensive on a new level. Even Alicent straightened up at your words.

However, Daemon rushed to add, "With all due respect, Princess, I don't want you, and you can't claim me as your own when you never had me. You might be angry, but it is no use to take it out on my intended, she is of rare stock and breed - she will not be questioned. Nor will my intentions with her."

Rhaenyra snarled, "Yeah? You don't want me? Well, you wanted me enough to try and fuck me at that whorehouse!"

There were gasps and murmurs all around, but Rhaenyra was glaring at you and Daemon, still standing together. His arms actually dropped to hold your waist, keeping you close as he snarled at his niece, "But I didn't. If memory serves right, I walked away!"

"You wanted me!" Rhaenyra raged. "You always were and always will be mine - regardless of the whores you bed in the meantime! And I want you, I am not yet married - "

"Yet I will not be who marries you, I am betrothed to another," Daemon reminded with a venomous tone. "There's nothing you offer that I want, Rhaenyra."

"I am not some inexperienced little girl anymore, I'm a woman grown, and I could do more for you than she ever could!"

"Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared.

Everyone knew she had gone too far and there was no coming back from any this. After a beat, Alicent stepped in as if questioning for the first time, "And yet, sister, you said the Princess was served Moon Tea? If Prince Daemon did not touch the Princess, does this mean she still," she scoffed as if the idea were absurd, "sullied her maidenhood? Before marriage?"

It should be noted that Ser Criston Cole was already gone from the hall at this time. In fact, he lingered just outside a side door, listening, in case his name came up. When Alicent spoke, he straightened up and started the slow trek to the Godswood.

"Ser Lyonel? Do I misunderstand?" Alicent pulled the Hand into the fray.

"Well, that's what that would sound like, Your Grace," he agreed begrudgingly. "Moon Tea is beneficial to prevent unwanted consequences outside of marriage."

"From what I understand, she was served by Grand Maester Mellos himself," you told Ali, minds strung together by a common thread. "The castle likes to gossip, you can learn a lot if you just listen."

"This is..." Viserys seethed, "Unacceptable."

"I'm sorry, Your Grace," you instantly apologized.

"No, no," he deflected, hand held up, "you have a duty to the Realm to flesh out any deception. And this," he directed his glare at his daughter, "is a grand deception that cannot be undone, unknown, covered-up, anymore, Rhaenyra!"

There was a meltdown. Everyone began yelling.

Viserys was enraged. Rhaenyra was desperately trying to plead with her father. Lord Corlys was demanding to know what the hell was about to happen with the impending marriage to "the future Queen". Ser Strong was trying to keep the people from each other's throats.

His sons stood to the side and just let them all fight.

Daemon kept you out of the line of fire, away from the action; sighing as you deflated into his chest. Over it all, Viserys' voice was angriest, and you heard, "You are no daughter of mine! The position you have put me in tonight - I cannot undo this, Rhaenyra! I should have never disinherited Daemon for you, breaking centuries of tradition because I wanted to see your mother in you! You have spat in my face around every bend, but this? This is unforgivable, we will not recover from this and I will no longer endure your insolence!"

"Father, please, let me - "

"No," he snarled, "I have had it with your disresepct the past several years, this is beyond any scale." You blinked up at Daemon, his lips curving down as his hands tightened around your form. And then, Viserys said the words, "I made a mistake naming you my heir. You may marry Ser Laenor, if you so choose to, but after that, you will reside on Driftmark with your husband - you will no longer inherit the Iron Throne after me."

"Father!"

"No," he snapped, "you've exhausted my patience, Rhaenyra!" Viserys roared. "And while Daemon might be unpredictable, the woman he wants to marry is not - and from where I am standing, she will make a far better Queen than you!"

It was quiet as everyone forgot their own selfish woes as father disinherited daughter.

"Your Grace," your father tried to step in, "with respect, why not place your son, Aegon, in line after you?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods, Otto," Rhaenyra raged, rounding on your father, "give up this campaign, you get all you want and more! Your daughter is Queen now and your other daughter will be Queen after that, aren't you listening? Your grandchildren will still inherit the Throne!"

"That's it," Viserys breathed, needing to hold onto the banquet table for balance as all eyes turned to him again. "It's time to do what I should've done all along. Rhaenyra," he shook his head, "I can no longer have you as my heir, this type of behavior cannot stand. I will give you permission to marry Ser Laenor, and if he chooses not to, I will allow you to reside on Dragonstone until a match is made. Until then," his eyes shifted to where you and Daemon stood, "I name my brother, Prince Daemon Targaryen, as my Heir to the Iron Throne."

"You would not name your son?" Alicent asked in mild disbelief.

"No," Viserys told her, "no, I would see my brother as my heir. Should Aegon prove to live up to his namesake, we can talk about succession again, but I know my brother is capable... And though he might be overly wanting, he will learn patience, because I know the love of a good woman can change a man for the better."

You smiled, feeling emotional for a moment, but Daemon asked for you both, "Brother, do you mean to give your blessing?"

"Of course," he nodded once, "why waste a good wedding tourney? We shall announce on the morrow our new intentions - to crown Daemon as heir and marry him to the Lady Hightower. This matter," he panted, glaring at everyone, "is resolved, I will not hear more. Make the preparations!"

It happened in slow motion. Rhaenyra's rage flared to a temperamental height previously unknown; lunging to seize her father's Valyrian Steel, prophesy-engraved dagger, turn, and charge straight for you as the remaining audience shouted in panic. You felt Daemon try to push you behind him, but instead, your own temper flared and you stepped up to meet Rhaenyra; catching both her arms to hold her at bay.

Daemon was at your flank if you needed him, otherwise, he kept the Kingsguard away from you two - knowing this needed to happen now. Or else something worse would happen later...

"For fuck's sake, Princess! What is this? Jealousy? Huh?" You asked through your tears, struggling to hold your old friend's weight away from you. "What is this jealousy, Nyrie, hmm?"

"Don't call me that," she grit. You just sighed, pushing her back a little but not enough to overpower her; the girl's anger making her stronger than you would've previously guessed. "You've gone too far," she seethed through tears.

“I? What have I done but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the Kingdom, the family, the law. While you flout all to do as you please! Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? It’s trampled under your pretty foot again!"

"You think you finally get my life, huh?" She snarled. "You won't ever be accepted - not as Queen - not as part of this family! You've wanted this all along! Haven't you!?" She struggled against you, hands sweating. "You've always wanted my life, that's why you stuck around! Your mother died - so you tried to take a place in my family, make them yours - and now, look! You're nearly there! Pouncing on my uncle the moment he's widowed!" She snarled, bearing her teeth.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness. But now they see you as you are, Nyrie," you whispered with a broad smirk.

"You aren't fit to play this part! To have my life! You'll never be accepted as their Princess!"

"I wager I'll do a better job than you ever could," you hissed. "There's not much to live up to, you don't leave a lot of room to fill."

She screamed when Ser Harwin's arms seized around her waist, but the momentum of him pulling her back and Rhaenyra's thrashing cause the Valyrian Steel dagger to slice your forearm. You yelped and reared back amongst the startled gasps and panicked murmurs from the crowd, Daemon catching you. The dagger clattered to the floor as Harwin backed up several paces to keep the belligerent girl at bay. You whimpered quietly at the sting, a pool of blood forming to the side you held your arm at.

"Fuck's sake," Daemon growled, "lemme see, lemme see, my love, c'mere," he winced, looking around before using his own belt to yank free and tourniquet around your lower elbow. "You're bleeding a good bit," he whispered, "you'll need stitches, sweet one."

You pouted at him, wincing again in pain when he tightened the belt.

Around you, the Kingsguard was ordered to escort Rhaenyra to her chambers, and the moment she was marched out of sight, Daemon was warning his brother that she knew about her secret passage door and parts of the tunnels.

Go stand watch," a personal guard was ordered by the King. "Someone go - go find Ser Cole - I want him posted in the Princess' passage, he's trusted to us."

Alicent slunk off to do exactly that, and she'd tell you later that Cole was found only moments from taking his own life. He was overjoyed to hear the King had requested him personally to stand guard for such a sensitive situation.

In the meantime, Lord Corlys Velaryon and his wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen, thought it best their son not marry Rhaenyra; now that she had been disowned, she was less appealing. Viserys was free to offer her again later if Laenor was not married in that time and if she showed true change, but after tonight, nobody thought that possible.

Daemon tried helping your wound, your father approaching as he laid a clean cloth over the cut. Your lover tisked, "It's deeper than I thought. We should get this looked at."

"A moment," Otto prevented.

"If it would please you, this is not an injury I'd like to wait to attend to," Daemon sighed, nodding at your bloodied forearm that he held.

"I only meant to say, you have my blessing to marry, my Prince," Otto nodded at him. "Seeing the kindness you show my daughter, I feel... Content knowing she will be loved and cared for."

"Thank you," Daemon nodded.

"Yes, thank you, Father, but we really must be going, this doesn't feel very nice," you rushed to explain, watching him nod and eye your injury with worry.

"This way," He even instructed, a few handmaids rushing forward to help herd you away.

"Doing all right, love?" Daemon muttered as you walked.

"Bit shocked," you admitted.

"I'd say," he mused.

"It burns," you pouted at him.

"We'll get everything tended to, you'll feel better soon," he soothed.

You peaked up at his worried brow, pouted lips, darting eyes; whispering, "You're heir, again, Daemon."

"So it would seem," he deadpanned. "Can we not talk about it now?" He requested quietly, "I only wish to see to this wound of yours."

You nodded, and once in Mellos' chamber, you were left alone with your father - since Daemon was not yet your husband. Otto was silent as your forearm was stitched carefully; the bleeding staunched, herbs stuffed in the wound to prevent pain and promote healing. As you let Mellos wrap you in gauze, you glanced at your father.

"So... Your blessing, is it?"

"He's different with you already," he nodded stiffly. "And after his nieces' display tonight, I can think of no better future Queen."

"I do not wish to talk about future station, Father, but instead, that... That Daemon makes me happy and I am relieved you have given us your blessing. It would've felt very wrong to marry without my father in attendance."

Otto wasn't affectionate in the least bit, but he showed his love by doing his best to understand situations before passing judgement. It created a sense of trust and security between father and daughter. So, he asked earnestly, "And you will overlook what he did with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"He told me of it all the morning after it happened, I've had time to think, and I've had time away from him. I know what I want, Father, and while Viserys has changed history - again - tonight by naming Daemon heir, I know he is the man I want for the rest of my life."

"I see," he nodded. "Then... By all means, I will see this union happen."

"Thank you," you whispered, the Maester tying the gauze. "Thank you, Grand Maester," you spoke calmly.

"Of course, uh, um, Princess."

"I don't think I'll get used to hearing that," you whined, standing off his table. "Will you talk to Daemon for me, Father? I think you need to clear the air... I will not say the King will instill you as Hand again, but if I am to marry the Prince, I will need there to be peace between our families."

He nodded, opening the door for you, "It will be arranged, my daughter..."

As Otto took his leave, Daemon, pacing the hall, approached you. He took hold of your waist, asking, "Are you all right?" You let him hold your injured wrist in a soft grip, viewing the wrappings.

"Yes, Your Grace," you teased, watching his pale face flush.

"Don't start with that."

"Mellos just called me Princess."

"You are," he grinned. "And we will be married in less than a week's time."

"I can hardly wait," you whispered, letting his lips find yours in a searing show of rare public affection.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

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yandere-kokeshi · 11 months

Note

Ahh, yes Hobie is underrated!! But lemme get you something :)

Hobie with a m!reader who tends to have nightmares a bunch when he sleeps alone. maybe they started off as friends and hobie would always notice how he looked like he barely got any sleep? and then when they got closer- y’know :D wholesomeness

also, if you want to- maybe one night hobie sees y/n moving around in his sleep and thinking it’s a nightmare until he sees a boner :7

i realise now this looks a lot like a scenario but it’s meant for headcanons since that’s how you prefer right now! stay safe love, we appreciate even the smallest things we get from you :D

Warnings: yandere behavior and slight NSFW

A/N: we love hobie <3. I hope more requests like these come in! You're so smart anon!

You stay safe and warm(or cold!). Love you so much, hope you enjoy <3

Having nightmares is embarrassing at times. Waking up in cold sweat, arms feeling like large logs of steel you have to carry and head woozy from witnessing things that may or may not trick you into thinking what’s real.

Of course, Hobie noticed right away. The huge black bags under your eyes showed clearly how you yawned every other word that came from your mouth. And let’s not forget how you zoned out pretty much of the time - his hand having to wave in front of you to get your attention.

“Oi, bruv. You doin’ good?” He asks, leaning in to touch your shoulder. But when he saw you nodded. He knew something was up. Not that you were willing to say; it annoyed him, and he kept pestering about it.

So, one day, he asked you if he could hang out later in the evening, which turned into a night of the two of you sleeping together when Hobie witnessed the reason you were hiding such lies.

You kept shaking. Whimpering in the shared bed. At first, he thought it was a dream - everyone has one some nights and sometimes they’re more active than most. But the more active you got with the shaking, sometimes yelling, Hobie got concerned.

He gently shook you awake, whispering you away not to scare you, and kissed your forehead affectionately as he comforted you - watching your eyes fill up with tears. He hugged you close, rocking you back and forth as he made sure to gently rub your back.

Hobie kept reminding you that it was just a dream, none of the things are real, and he was always here for you. Your heart bounded, the sheer closeness was embarrassing. But you needed it. Craved the attention you never had. The warm comfort was relieving your pounding heart from your surprised state.

But the kiss he gave you on the lips was more surprising than ever. He laughed at your reaction, pulling out a handmade necklace he made for you, and a guitar pick he stated he wanted to give to you. Wrapping it behind your neck, he clicked it in place, reaching over to whisper in your ear, ‘Ya now mine. I’ll protect you, m’kay?’

For the next couple of days, he always insists on sleeping with you - even if you protest or say you’ll get embarrassed, he won’t listen to you.

Every night, Hobie makes sure to cuddle you close to his chest, allowing you to borrow his headphones as he plays music to distract you; kissing your cheek as he watches TV.

If you feel self-conscious about you having nightmares, Hobie always cuts you off with a hard kiss. He hates seeing you down yourself just because of something normal. With this said, he always comments about how he doesn’t care. Sure, nightmares can and will be scary. But he will never judge you. Ever.

Sometimes waking up groggy is the worse. Hobie hates the AM. PM. literally every time of the day. If he could, he’d love to spend his entire day with you sleeping or causing chaos.

But, waking up on a lazy Tuesday, he groaned as his phone buzzed underneath the pillow. He cursed out, immediately hanging up the phone as he saw multiple texts from Miguel. Of course, he was the one waking him up.

Ignoring Miguel's protests to contact him and throwing the phone back into place, his senses went off the radar; his ears listened to your heavy breathing, grunting, and slight moans. Were you in pain? Did he hurt you by squishing you too hard? He doesn’t really wanna be yelled at again.

Though his eyes widened for a second before a smirk struck his face. Seeing something poking out of your boxers, blankets thrown off to the side as it was too hot. Yeah, you were too hot after all.

In one instance, he moved between your legs and his hands crawled to your crotch, pulling down your boxers, and waiting to awaken you to a very special prize.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking, it helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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schrijverr · 6 months

Text

The Hearts of Gotham 4

Chapter 4 out of 7

Bruce makes the Justice League believe he has two hearts and is a manifestation of Gotham’s night to throw them off his secret identity, not trusting them. When the sound system breaks, he doesn’t come clean, but lies instead that he split into two to make Robin. From there it spirals as all the Robins make the lies grow and twist it in their own ways, until the truth comes out.

This fic is based on this post and inspired by Bouncing Baby Bat, or so the Justice League is led to believe... by EmpressGeek.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Tim's self esteem issues

~~~~

Chapter 4: How Tim Tied It All Together

When Tim becomes Robin, Batman is no longer who he used to be. He is still paranoid of course, but he also grief stricken, angry, yet withdrawn. A shell of the Batman he once was.

He doesn’t want to introduce Tim to the Justice League at first. Wants to just tear the whole thing down and yell that he doesn’t want to do this anymore. That he just lost his son. That he’s had enough. That it’s not funny anymore. That it was never funny to start with.

However, whenever he tries to say something. He can’t. The words get stuck in his throat and all he can picture is Jason’s face as he whispered: ‘Are we- Are we pranking the Justice League?’ And he just can’t.

Bruce knows he has to introduce Tim to them, so that they know who they’re calling should something happen to him out there. But he still drags his feet about how he wants to do this.

A part of him wants to say fuck it and just tell them that there’s a new kid and that he’s been lying, too tired to care. But another part of him knows that then there will be questions, about the other Robins, if they were just kids too. And he’ll have to sit there and explain to Clark and Diana that he let his kid get killed. That he wasn’t on time to save him.

So, he shuts that first part of himself up and briefs Tim on what the story is and why he is meeting the League and when.

When Tim hears, he know this is important. The Robins before him have met the League and it is part of a bigger cover towards them.

Tim’s young mind whirls quickly, finding it logical that Batman has this added layer between him and the League. They operate differently and he knows how dangerous the League can be, the contingencies that Batman has made should it be necessary. Having a small human link, is a weakness to be exploited, so shrouding it in myth, makes it harder to do that.

It’s smart and he won’t let Batman down.

He knows Jason’s death is still a very sore wound, that is not likely to heal soon – it’s the whole reason he’s here – and that there is a wedge now between Batman and Dick. So, he doesn’t ask for advice from either of them and looks to the footage of the meetings with the old Robins and the Justice League in his own time, studying their interactions to prepare himself.

Thus, there is a drag to his feet as he quietly follows Batman into the Watchtower for the first time, the shoes he’s wearing still feeling too big to ever fill.

They enter a big room with a table, around which all the Justice League members are sitting. A few start to greet Batman, but they quickly also start to greet him. Seeing a new Robin is no longer a novelty to them and they are ready to welcome this newcomer.

“Hello, you must be the new Robin,” Superman floats over to shake his hand. “I’m Superman, nice to meet you.”

“I am. It’s nice to meet you too,” Tim says, trying to shake Superman’s hand the way Dick did.

Diana is also there, shaking his hand as they exchange introductions. She comments: “If I may ask, your predecessor was Robin shorter than the one before him. What city called for a hero? I have not heard of a new name popping up recently.”

Batman’s jaw tenses as most look to him for answers now, having notices his change in demeanor when the second Robin was mentioned.

Tim knows from his observations of the tapes that it is Robin, who gives the answers, while Batman stands quietly. So, he softly speaks up: “The second Robin was taken by the wrong parts of Gotham.”

The heroes that stand around them pause, some turning pale. Diana gasps: “No. He- He can’t die, can he?”

“He can be lost,” Tim answers, watching how Batman’s hands clench, hoping he won’t be too mad for all he’s about to say. “Not all his pieces returned home. The city gives us shape and life, but we can also be taken by it.”

As he talks, he calls back on as much as what Jason said, since he is the one that solidified the lore of the Robins. He created the means to be interchanged. And Tim is going to do his favorite hero proud.

“When he became Robin, the moon was waxing. Now the moon is waning,” Tim says. “Gotham is getting dark now. The light is less big. I’m less big.”

He is actually pretty close to Jason’s age when he started, but he knows that he’s smaller than average. If he calculated right, he can pass for at least two years younger. It fits with the story he’s creating for his Robin, a lesser version of those before him. The Robin to a grimmer Batman and a less bright Gotham.

Everyone is now looking worried and that’s good. Tim wants the League to be a little bit worried, so that they’ll keep a closer eye on Batman. He needs everyone to keep him on the rails while he processes and this way Tim is subtly enlisting help.

However, he also memorized what Jason said about Batman changing and how that means something has happened. He doesn’t need them to worry so much that they’ll come into Gotham unannounced.

So, he gives them a smile, hoping it will be close to what the other Robins did. Unintentionally, it’s as creepy as Dick’s smile had been.

“Don’t worry,” he says, maybe a bit on the nose, but, oh well, he doesn’t do improv theater. “The night is still the same, the light is just less, so there is more darkness to make up Batman. He’s working on it. We both are. We’ll get used to our way of being Batman and Robin as we are now.”

That is apparently Batman’s limit.

A hand comes down on Tim’s shoulder, it’s heavy, but Tim doesn’t react. He is used to Batman’s more brisk forms of connection, how he’s grown more distant than how he was with Jason. Tim gets it, he’s not his son, just a placeholder.

“Let’s go to the Cave, Robin,” Batman says and he doesn’t crack on the name. Progress. “They’ve met you now.”

“Oh, don’t go yet, Batman,” Flash tries to go for a little more lighthearted as he attempts to get Batman to stay. They likely all noticed how he’s been around less.

Diana nods, saying gently: “Yes, there is no need to hurry home.”

Batman looks like he might be convinced, but then J’onn adds: “We can help you look out for Robin,” and that is the wrong thing to say, Tim knows it as he hears it.

Had Batman gotten help from the Justice League, Jason could have lived. Had Batman thought to call out, Tim might not be standing here.

“No, Gotham needs us,” he tells them instead and a part of Tim hopes that there is an Arkham outbreak so that Batman can punch out a little more of his grief and their cover will be strengthened more.

It’s the only time, Tim meets the Justice League as Robin. He never trains with them, never convinces Batman to take him with him to the Watchtower again. He meets them, because it is necessary and never again until he’s Red Robin.

As Red Robin, Tim truly grows into the lore that they’re creating, managing to find ways to use it to his advantage.

By then the Robin mantle has ping ponged around and Tim has mourned how he’s been forced to give up being Robin. It wasn’t easy, but it’s what has to be done and he’s always done it. Besides, he quite likes his mantle as Red Robin now.

And he doesn’t mind tricking his teammates either. Out of all of them, he’s the one that has the worst of B’s paranoia, so having this makes him feel more in control about what they do and don’t know about him. It’s a safety measure.

He is also gleeful to discover that he can use it to get his way and Dick can’t get on his case about it, because then he’ll give the whole thing away.

“Don’t worry,” he tells them when they look at him with concern. “My body doesn’t react the same as yours to caffeine, this is totally safe.”

“It’ll be safer for me to go alone,” he lies another time. “As a manifestation, it’s less likely that this demon thing will kill me. It’ll be worse if you’re there.” Like he doesn’t just think they’re all shit negotiators and he’s better off without them in the background to ruin things.

Little things that make leading his team easier for him. Making so he doesn’t have to explain himself or apologize for his bad habits. It’s quite a nice change of pace and he doesn’t mind in the slightest.

As a little bit of pettiness to the demon spawn that has taken his spot after Steph, he tells those that ask that one Robin wasn’t enough anymore for the beast that is Gotham. In a dire hour of need, he had handed over in some Robin parts, but not all, he had evolved and a new one had grown. The two of them having to run around to balance Gotham again.

It can’t be further from the truth, they don’t work together well and while Gotham is still a dark entity, two Robins can nearly be considered overkill. Especially when you know of all the other heroes that run around, still in the shadows.

However, he doesn’t care about the truth much. Let everyone think that he is the evolved Robin, that he grew, that he still matters to Gotham. Let them think that Damian is the Robin, who couldn’t do it by himself, who needed an extra hand.

Tim is used to twisting the narrative until he makes sense, until no one wonders how he is the one who made it here. He has always had big shoes to fill, let someone else carry that burden for a change.

A/N:

Okay, promise only happy vibes again after this one, but Tim is just a bit of a sad character, especially when he just became Robin and when he had to hand over the mantle again (though the latter has been all Robins), so it was a little difficult to make it happy. I tried, didn’t work out.

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acequinz · 1 month

Text

Listen most of my thoughts on the lotus trio emerge when I am making silly ot3 comparisons or seeing someone else's post about one character that gets my mind reeling about the other two as well.

And once again I am thinking about how the lotus trio had a different relationship with love and how it affects them in their growth and the way they would/do deal with it when it comes to ot3.

Di Feisheng - barely got any love, actually make it none. He was raised as a soldier, assassin, or whatever just meant to kill others and was trained as such. He did not get any affection while he lived.

Then when he finally ran away, he attracted people due to his talent and strength but never once did he fall for the sweet words and was very good at seeing it for what it was. They were loyal to his strength and not just him that's why despite having a lot of people in the jingyuan alliance he only has like 2-3 people he truly trusts and it's likely that they go the longest together. (I don't remember exactly but you get me) He's not blinded by the fake love people throw at him and is good at discerning genuine affection.

Li Lianhua/ Li Xiangyi - my beloved.... Now heeee, he got some love. It wasn't all the love but it wasn't no love at all. He went from losing everything and starving to finding someone who was kind to him and appreciated him.

To me he also is someone with almost the worst relationship with love out of the three. Not just because he always ends up betrayed or dumped. But because he has the toughest time with discerning genuine love from the fake one.

When he lived as Li Xiangyi, he thought he was genuinely loved by all and it wasn't that they loved his strength because there is a difference and he didn't see that difference, (which is why the break up happened) but also he was hungry for love, he needed it.

You know how they say that if you are starving and you take one bite of something your hunger only gets worse.

That was his scene. Of course he had people who genuinely loved him but by the time he realised the difference between Li Xiangyi's strength and Li Xiangyi himself, he was too far gone and had even lost himself.

Then he started living as Li Lianhua, completely detached because he now no longer needed love as if he was an addict giving up on an addiction but love isn't exactly an addiction not if you are surrounded by the right kind and manage it well.

And he knew himself to not be able to manage it so he gave up on it, maybe even began to fear it.

Then we have Fang Doubing- he got all of it! Every bit of it. But not always. He was a sickly child once, most likely to die, people didn't even think he would live and no one believed in him until he started showing promise after his meeting with Li Xiangyi.

So yeah he was spoiled in love but that love wasn't exactly unconditional at all times, but he had a safe environment to judge it.

Like yes Fang Duobing is open to love and trust but not always, he is smart about it and he knows that if he's wrong and falls he will have people who love him to catch him so he is more open to new people and can take the risk of being kind without knowing everything immediately.

Cause again, it's not like Fang Duobing just opens his heart for everyone and invites them in but he's definitely kinder to himself and others when things come down to it.

He is nice and kind to people he understands as deserving of his care and has an actual ranking of people he cares about.

And honestly all of this is only visible when you watch the three interact together.

At all moments Li Lianhua is the most uncomfortable, is it his hunger acting up? Is it the unraveling of the plot? Or resurgence of the emotions he tries his best to suppress?

He is very confident with resolving mysteries but his biggest fears are dealing with the people who genuinely loved him and it's so obvious with the way he hesitates and even stops in his tracks.

Like he knows the people who never actually loved him and has gotten over it but he still fears the people who did love him with all of their being and he fears having to face them the most.

Even with Fang Duobing we see him struggle to open up and bare himself, it's harder with Di Feisheng because he already sees through every cover up and Li Lianhua doesn't exactly get a choice there. ( Is it also because Li Lianhua doesn't consider himself to be someone loved by him? Probably)

Di Feisheng isn't exactly open to anyone except Li Xiangyi from the start but he doesn't really fear it and back away either and that's visible in the almost indulgent way he treats Fang Duobing.

Like sure initially it's cause he can't do anything about Fang Duobing but eventually they do begin to work together very well, there's an almost unspoken understanding between them. (Unspoken from dfs because we know fdb loves to yap) And Di Feisheng sees the promise in Fang Duobing as well, respects it but like- it's too early for you to be considered for my rival position, come back in another 10 years and I will THINK about it-.

And it's because he doesn't shy away and actually looks at Fang Duobing too, maybe it's because he knows Fang Duobing is looking at him or he just wants to see what Li Xiangyi sees in him but he does look at Fang Duobing and most definitely appreciates what he sees.

Maybe the view is that of a defenseless puppy at first who most likely won't survive but not only does the puppy continue to survive but he only gets stronger and he doesn't lose himself in the change.

Neither Li Xiangyi nor Di Feisheng accomplished that. And Di Feisheng wouldn't change himself even now but he will respect the grind of the protective puppy.

And very few people have his respect. (Also if I may add, respect and acknowledgement is the way Di Feisheng loves hence his constant screams of Li Xiangyi being his only rival and worthy of standing against him are practically love confessions that Li Lianhua/ Li Xiangyi never saw)

Then comes Fang Duobing, he clings to Li Lianhua very fast, open and trusting despite the trickery that befalls him.

He has subconsciously already made the decision that he trusts Li Lianhua and once his subconscious connects it to his main consciousness he takes it in a stride, like fuck yeah! I trust him.

He knows the other keeps his secrets but he also judges his actions and makes the choice to continue trusting Li Lianhua cause let's be honest there are many instances where Xiaobao is indignant and would/should walk away but he makes the active decision to stay because he trusts and loves Lianhua (platonic or romantic is your choice).

Then comes in Di Feisheng and he doesn't cling half as fast, he's on the edge and still judging until Li Lianhua reveals a 10 year long connection and even then he just relaxes a little, still considering a-fei and trying to decide which slot to put him in? But he has already accepted him by this point, he is one of the people under Fang Duobing's protection and he will care for him, even if he doesn't get him yet.

There's few reasons to trust either of them but he does anyway because that's just how loved and honestly he wasn't wrong with it.

Now I know I am using mainly Fang Duobing to explain my thoughts on others but it's because there's a lot of offscreen history between dihua and I have yet to form full ideas on how i think their relationship actually goes other than the simple unwavering trust they have in their own knowledge of their rival.

And we more or less meet dihua in their final arc while fang Duobing is in his first arc so I have more in show stuff to go off of. So my headcanons for difang and fanghua are a lot more detailed compared to my dihua headcanons. (I am still building around them).

#mysterious lotus casebook #li lianhua #di feisheng #fang duobing #difanghua

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justrainandcoffee · 2 months

Text

Against all odds (Alfie Solomons x fem!oc) Part 4

Crossover Peaky Blinders - Hunger Games

Masterlist. Parts: one - two - three

Summary: The 64th games. Rose finally meets Snow. He's intimidating and smart as people say he was. It's true that she hates him, but it was also him who says something that is about to change her life. Alfie is facing the consequences of knowing the Arena before the rest of them.

Warning: None.

Words: 3k. || Alfie x Rose masterlist

The mansion resembled her own, but was much more luxurious and with more domestic staff. Alfie was with Hilda and Alex when they requested her presence.

Two well-dressed men with serious expressions led her to a car waiting in the street. No one told Rose what it was about, but the Capitol symbol embroidered on the lapel of their coats gave the young woman all the answers she needed.

And along with those answers came a lot of thoughts in her head.

Inside the car was a woman older than her with white hair and blue tips. Nails decorated with what looked like tiny diamonds and an expensive gold dress and matching shoes.

"I'm Hazelle Goodsigth," said the woman, "you're Mrs. Evert."

"Yes, I am. May I...?"

"President Snow asked to see you, Mrs. Evert."

Hazelle Goodsight looked Rose up and down as if looking for something to criticise, but said nothing.

"It's an honour," Rose lied, "but I don't understand why... I'm nothing more than a stylist. It's my husband who's in charge of the business. I would never..."

"That's exactly why Mr. Snow asked to see you, Mrs. Evert because you're a stylist."

"I don't understand..."

"He's going to explain it to you," Hazelle said, ending any interaction between the two women. And both bodyguards never said a word.

So there she was now, sitting in the lobby of the mansion, in a leather armchair and looking at a painting of a blonde-haired, brown-eyed woman with a gentle smile.

Her mind was with Alfie. She would have given anything to be able to seek refuge in his arms and soothe her anxiety. But she forced herself to concentrate. More than ever her alter-ego had to shine.

It was one thing to pretend to be at home with Lawrence's friends; it was quite another to do so with Coriolanus Snow, famed for his sharp mind and cold-bloodedness. If he suspected anything, the next time Alfie asked about her, he'd have to meet her at the cemetery.

"Her name was Ariana," said a voice behind him. A shiver ran through her body.

"President Snow," she replied, bowing her head.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Evert." Snow looked at her intently before placing a kiss on her hand. Then he turned his gaze back to the portrait "She was my wife. She died many years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. It seems like she was a good woman."

"I appreciate that. And yes, she was. Sometimes too much so. Come with me, Mrs. Evert."

Rose followed Snow down a narrow but well-lit hallway with several vases filled with white roses.

"Did Hazelle tell you the reason for her visit here?" he asked still walking.

"A little yes, but not much."

"I'm looking for a new stylist, Mrs. Evert. The nice thing about the parade is that it gives me a chance to see what the different stylists we hire are capable of." Snow finally reached a white door which she opened and stepped aside to make way for her.

The room was larger than Rose had first thought. There were huge windows overlooking a flowery garden and the scent of said flowers filled the air, in tune with the summer that was felt in every corner of Panem.

"Have a seat, please, Mrs. Evert."

Rose still felt the urge to run out of there and her mind was still trying to process that standing before her was the person she hated the most and the cause of so much horror. Still, of course, she obeyed.

"As I was saying, the parade gives me the opportunity to study not only the tributes and their mentors but also the stylists. A lot of people think it's to show off the competitors, which is true, but to see their talent. And honestly, it's been a few years since district 9 stopped having the same designs and became part of one of the best."

"That's a compliment, Mr. President... I, I really love that. But it's no more than what they do in districts 1 or 2. That's talent."

"But there's no love. Doing great things without love, it doesn't make a lot of sense. I can see that the costumes are the best, but they don't appeal to me. I'm looking for something else." Snow's blue eyes seemed to be trying to read her mind. "I know your husband, he's been to dinner parties here more than once, but I've never seen you before.

"Because Lawrence prefers to go to those dinner parties alone. Men's dinners, he calls them."

Snow narrowed her eyes, "but that's not true. The invitation is extended to couples, if they have them."

"I didn't know that," Rose replied. "Lawrence isn't the most forthcoming of men because..."

Because he's a fucking asshole.

"...Because that's the way he is."

Rose knew about such dinners, but it was true that Lawrence had never bothered to take her with him. Ever since Rose had learned five years ago that her husband was one of those who paid to have sex with the winners of the games, she suspected that they did more than eat at these gatherings. And the very idea made her nauseous.

"I'll take care to be clearer, then," Snow said. "Separate invitations might make the message clearer. Your husband is a complicated man, but he helps with investments for the games. The dinners are just gratitude, not because I have any appreciation for him. With all due respect."

Snow was a charismatic fucking tyrant. And now that he stood before her, smiling, Rose could sense that. He had risen to the top of Panem as a young man and had stayed there ever since. No one who wasn't smart, charismatic, or insightful could have made it. And Snow was that and so much more. He was the Devil and hell was Panem.

"Lawrence pays for certain nights with Victors," Rose said. It was a statement that could cost her dearly, but she needed to see the old man's reaction with her own eyes.

"Yes, he does."

Of course Snow wasn't going to deny it, there was no need to lie when he knew the woman knew the truth. Nor was he going to deny reality. The upper class of Panem found the winners of the games fascinating. He just found one more method to make them pay for the districts' betrayal. It wasn't money that motivated him but pleasure in making them suffer "...But given your tone of voice, I assume he wasn't the one who told you."

"No. It wasn't him, I heard rumours and I didn't doubt them."

Snow nodded and looked at Rose, smiling sideways "Infidelity is not something I condone, though I don't care what others do either. But I am compelled to say this: for the right price any member of the Capitol can do the same," he said, "with any victor."

That was like a door opening in Rose's head. Snow caught her off guard, and that was something she hadn't planned for. The words hit her in the face without her realising and she was silent for several seconds. Rose looked at Snow and knew without him saying anything that he knew about her and Alfie. Even if he thought it was simply sex.

"...So, the suit," the man said changing the subject "I can count on you and your talent to be able to do something for the grand coronation of our new victor?"

If Rose thought she was going to be able to steer the conversation where she wanted it to go, she was wrong. Snow had always been in charge of the meeting.

"Of course, Mr. Snow. I need to take measurements, nothing more, and talk about the colours and textures you prefer."

Snow nodded. He found her company quite pleasant and to Rose's suprise he invited her to have dinner there. Some other people were also there. Just business and they talked about money and investments, so Rose barely talked. She listened to them, tho. But in reality, her mind was busy with his words

"With any victor..."

It was late. The ninth floor was in silence and the lights were out. Rose walked barefoot towards the kitchen and pour herself a glass of water.

Fuck.

People always talked about Snow like the most intimidating man you could met, but it was a different thing when you have him in front of your eyes.

He was charming but his gaze was so cold, empty and yet full of cunningness. He was the perfect example of a psychopath. A man perfectly aware of what he could cause on other people and with a dark side he couldn't hide. A charming manipulator.

He didn't invented the Games, but he was the one who perfected them and made that thousands of thousands of people considered acceptable the fact that kids were massacred every year. 1484 kids dead and counting since the beginning of the games and people were happy about that.

Rose felt the cold tiles under her feet while she walked towards his bedroom. She knew Alfie was still upset with her, but she needed a familiar face after that encounter. Carefully she opened the door, Rose saw his silhouette in the darkness. He was sleeping soundly and didn't hear her.

She left her dress on a chair and laid next to him. Her face was against his back and she could feel his perfume. That man was her whole world, even if it was a world she could have for a couple of weeks every year. She planted a kiss on his broad shoulders and then closed her eyes.

Alfie didn't notice her until very late when he rolled over the bed and saw her at his side. He hadn't seen her the whole evening and was worried about her, despite everything.

When he put an arm around her, she opened her eyes.

"I didn't want to wake you up. When you came here?"

"A couple of hours ago. It's okay, I wasn't really sleeping. I'm sorry I'm here… I- uhg… it was an awful day, Al. I just needed you. I know you're angry but…"

"Yeah. Well, sweetheart, I can't be angry with you for that long, can I? Time is something we don't have and I don't want to spend this year away from you. I thought about looking for you, but I didn't know where you were"

"I really love you, Al."

"I know and I love you, too."

A long and warm kiss was all they needed. Alfie was right, the last thing they had was time.

"Snow called me," she finally said, when he brought her against his body. "Fucking hell, Alfie… Snow. I almost shitted myself."

"Holy hell, Rosie… what the fuck! What happened?!"

"He wanted someone new to make him a suit for the award ceremony. No one knows who the victor will be, but they planned everything with anticipation. So, here I am… sewing a suit for that prick."

"Did you accept?!"

"It's not like I have any other options. You can't refuse to do anything when it's about him. Or you pay the consequences. And there's more…"

"Even more? What else happened?"

The bedroom was dark and yet Alfie could swear that he could see her brown eyes. So she told him "He knows we're having an affair." Alfie felt he was about to die.

"I didn't tell him," she rushed to say "he knew. Don't ask me why, because I don't know, but he knew…"

"Fuck me."

"But then he said something interesting," she stopped a moment and stroked his hand "he said: for the right price, any member of the Capitol can have any victor."

Alfie understood that statement very well. Sadly, he knew what that meant. He turned the light on to see her properly.

"Are you going to pay for my company?"

"I'm tired of seeing you once a year. I'm tired of us being apart. But I could never, ever, do that if you're not okay with this. I give a shit about the money, Lawrence has so much money that he doesn't know what to do with it… but I need to know if you agree. We survived five years apart we can keep doing this."

"That's contribute to the corrupt system you're trying to break."

"You think I don't know that? But I want to see you more often. As selfish as it sounds. I miss you! And It's a fuck up situation, Al. It's just I thought… I didn't want to offend you."

"You didn't offend me. You're just asking for my consent."

"Of course I'm asking for your consent!! I'd never forced you into anything! What the hell!"

"Then as a victor I can demand something in exchange of my services. I have only one requirement: if one of my kids, now or in the future, win the games I want you to promise me that you're going to pay for them. Exclusivity. So you can protect them from your husband and his friends," Alfie stared at her and Rose nodded.

"Yes. I can do that. But I'm not paying for your services, but for us. I'm paying for talking to you, for sharing a meal, for a hug or two… I don't want, if you don't wa…"

"Rosie, luv. I want," he interrupted her. "But they don't know about this. Let them believe I'm your sex toy."

She didn't want to laugh but she couldn't help it either. "Damn, Al, you're a very expensive sex toy."

"Well, darling, I know my value," he kissed her briefly "do you think that Snow has an eye on us?"

"Al, Snow has an eye on every one in fucking Panem. You, me, the kids and his own family… only controlling every single one of us, he can remain there."

"And yet, you're trying to burn him" Alfie said, at the same time one of his hands were brushing her ribcage.

"When you're an elephant, you ignore the ants. I'm just an ant. One of hundreds that are under his feet but he can't see."

The beginning of the games werealso the beginning of Alfie's nightmare. One more time.

When mentors saw the Arena, they turned their heads towards Alfie who was the only who didn't seem surprised by it. But only one dared to confront him.

"Well, of course you sent your tributes to a special training place! I asked myself why did you waste time sending them to a fucking swimming pool instead of training like the rest of us! It's clear now! Your whore told you the Arena! The bitch knew it!"

Aveline Young was staring at Alfie with hatred in her black eyes. Way taller than him, the black woman wasn't afraid of his angry face.

"That was my fucking decision, Aveline! I sent them there because I thought it was a long time since they created an Arena full of water. I was lucky!"

"Do not underestimate my intelligence. I know you since you were a tribute, I saw you become a Victor and a mentor. You were always the same until you met that woman. I understand you want a pussy, but you're fucking the wrong one!" Aveline stepped closer to him "she'll betray you. She's an Evert. No matter what she's telling you."

Alfie pushed her away from him "don't you dare to talk about her as you know her, Aveline. I'm not underestimating your intelligence. But you don't underestimate mine. And she's not just a pussy."

"Avie…" a new voice interfered with the confrontation between those two. "I don't think it does matter now. The games started and we already lost eight kids. We don't need more drama. And in the end it's not your business." Tommy Shelby was the one that talked.

"Well, your tributes are alive! Mine are not! And it's my business. Maybe they'd stand a chance if they had the same privileges as Alfie. What side are you choosing?"

"I'm not choosing any side! There aren't any sides here."

"Oh, please…" Aveline rolled her eyes.

But Alfie was out of his mind.

"Privileges?! What fuckin' privileges are ya talkin' about?!" Alfie growled and walked towards her "Do you think my previous kids had privileges because she's my friend? Did you see their violent deaths? Did ya see my girl last year? They stabbed her heart!! Do you think these ones, this year, have any chance of winning? For the smart woman we know you're, Aveline, you're a fuckin' idiot!" Alfie stared at her once last time before going to the elevator.

"Alfie! Alfie!"

A familiar voice was calling him, but he ignored the call. "Alfie!"

"Not now, Lucy."

The red haired woman stood up there, looking at him. Then, she furrowed her brow "You're going to listen to me, Alfie Solomons!" she grabbed his hand before he could put a foot inside the elevator. "Let me remember you what I told you years ago. Not every one here think like her. Volcano Girl can be very stubborn! I didn't believe you when you said you didn't know about the Arena, I think you knew and you trained your kids to win. But I'm not judging you and Tommy isn't judging you either. You're doing what you need to do to have at least one victor. And it's okay."

"Tell that to them, then! The ones who think like Young! They're fucking thinking I'm… what? A traitor? What if I knew before her about the Arena? I'm tired of losing kids! We're all tired of losing kids! And yet, there's no guarantee that any of mine can survive!! Even if I knew about it fucking days ago!! Fuck!! She's talking like i designed that fucking monstrosity! Like my Rosie designed it! Fuck them all."

Lucy chuckled "My Rosie?"

Alfie realised that he shouldn't say that, but it was too late. He talked without thinking. He was furious and was trying to defend himself and also Rose.

"You're fricking in love with her, Alfie."

But he didn't respond instead he pressed the button to call the elevator and faced Lucy one last time that day "See you later."

When Alfie entered their floor, he found himself alone. Nor Alissa nor Rose were there. He suspected that last one was busy with Snow's suit. Alfie opened her bedroom, sat down on her bed and sighed. He knew that things were going to be difficult. No one could give a fuck if Rose could have had another surname, a harmless one. The problem from the very beginning wasn't that she was married the problem was Evert.

Over his head there was the painting representing the Capitol and behind it numerous sheets of paper with information that could make the other victors shut up. But he didn't know that.

When he calmed down, he returned to the hall to see the rest of first day of the games. And he arrived just in time to see his boy, Alex, die in hands of the girl from district 4. Not long after that, Hilda drowned herself trying to grab a backpack.

Not even having special training his tributes could win. And yet, people said he had privileges.

Next part

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons x ofc #tom hardy #alfie x rose #peaky blinders #hunger games au

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thefringespod · 5 months

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Finally got smart enough to make my #AudioDramaSunday list ahead of time so I wouldn't forget anything for once! We're gonna start today with the newest Magus Protocol episode which was phenomenal. Cole Weavers wrote this one and I just adore his writing. Also: Augustus is here 👀

Early access for the newest ep of @souloperatorpod was this week and y'all have a TREAT waiting for you tomorrow. Tot continues to astound me with her many talents and we also get to meet a new character who I'm already in love with

@tellnotalespod has brought us back to Julia and Riley who are overworking themselves (especially Riley. Let them sleep.) I love getting to hear from them in these mini eps but they DO make me want to shake Leo even harder Leo please talk to your friends please

@camlannpod episode 2 released this week and my gods it was so much fun. A blend of deep and emotional scenes and comedy (I'm still thinking about "The CW lied to me") I love every character with my whole heart and have been loving all the theories on tumblr about the show

New @innbetween was so sweet I love hearing the Lowlifes become actual friends. Phoebe thinking that everyone wanted her to leave squeezed my heart so hard and everyone insisting she stay because she was the one that they wanted for the quest??? Just so so good

@somewhereohio has once again knocked me flat with this episode. The worldbuilding around Jasmine and what's going on with her memories is incredible! I am an Orange Splice stan 1st and person 2nd. Also the Nadia/Alex scene breaks my heart because I know how they end 😭.

New Technomancy Project was SO GOOD!! And I was FUCKING RIGHT!!! I said this before but I love having all of them play Belial's game this time around and I don't think there's a single EPO agent who didn't make me cry this ep. The Technomancy Project continues to kick ass

Caught up on last weeks @thesiltverses and gods it fucked me up (affectionate) B Narr does such a fantastic job with Faulkner. I love him. I hate him. I want him to get whats coming to him & I want to protect him from it at the same time. B's performance knocks me flat every time

There was another special episode of @wakeofcorrosion this week featuring the Fringes' very own @totcoc0a and @taytayheyhey! I will never forgive them for what they did to my heart <3 Shaun Pellington wrote a killer script and deserves none of the blame even if it did break me

Continuing to make my way through the Storage Papers this week and episodes 13-19 were VERY good. I said "Nope, don't like that" out loud multiple times while listening to 19 which is the exact reaction you want from a horror pod.

This isn't a new episode listen but @wpwcpod has announced their existence and cast and im SO FUCKING EXCITED!! Not only do I love CL Hendry's writing but it will also feature the Fringes' very own Ollie Bannerman and @chainofbeing Cai Gwilym Pritchard I'm so hyped

Also not a new episode listen but Athan (creator of The Grotto) has announced that his album is coming out on March 29! If you've listened to The Grotto then you know Athan writes killer music. And if you dont listen to the Grotto: DO IT GO LISTEN RIGHT NOW ITS SO GOOD

Here on the Fringes we're preparing for the second half of the season! Episode 19 is available RIGHT NOW at patreon.com/PineTreePods and will be available to the public this Wednesday! Also gearing up to finish the last 3 episodes of season 3 which I'm super excited for

And over on @forgedbondspod the first half of the show is written! The cast has been thrown into a discord and has access to scripts now which is super exciting, I can't wait for yall to hear what's going to come from the first 24 eps

And that's all for this week! It's a long audiodrama Sunday post but there's just. So much good stuff going on. Every day I'm so grateful to exist in this audiodrama space and to share my work with yall <3

#audiodrama sunday #audio drama sunday #pines notes #recommendation post

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lya-dustin · 1 year

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The Philosopher

Aemond x fem!Braavosi!reader

(The idea of universities existing in asoiaf is my idea, universities and colleges have existed since the 12th century at the least. Braavos is based on Florence and i ran with the idea of it being Early-Renaissance Italy)

This was also the one-shot i built through polls with fem!reader and the prompt:‘I have fallen for you so … I’m fucked.’

Thanks for playing, enjoy the fic

Gif by @bichachonacho

Despite the neglect from both his parents ---one too ill to care and the other too busy--- Aemond had everything he wanted and the best of it.

So, when he asked, no, demanded the most famous master of philosophy in the world, he had not expected you.

He had heard of Braavos admitting women into their prestigious university, but surely, they would not be so foolish as to send a woman to teach him?

For fuck’s sake, less than half the noblewoman were literate in Westeros!

Grandsire would be appalled, mother insulted and Aegon will likely be feigning an interest in philosophy just to harass the poor girl.

“I was told Master Bergamo would be teaching me.” Aemond said hoping he had been right.

“Oh, he is, he is rather unwell from his travels unfortunately, so until he is better I will be teaching you, your highness.” You said as you continued setting up the sitting room to your liking. “Will that be a problem?”

“No.” the prince lied.

“Usually my lectures have me behind a curtain to avoid distractions, would it be too much of an inconvenience for you if I were to be behind a curtain?” you asked and Aemond wonders if he answered far too quickly.

He was not like other men, for fuck’s sake. He could handle being taught by a beautiful woman.

“Suit yourself, your highness, but I do warn you. Men who refuse the curtain often end up falling in love with me.” You say in jest, he hopes it is merely a jest.

“Perhaps, I will be the exception.” He finds himself saying and falling into an unusually easy banter with you.

As time passes, Aemond realized you had been serious.

There was something in the way you spoke, how you taught and worst of all, how your eyes lit up as you passionately debated with him.

Even when your father taught him, you were there assisting him, and despite your Braavosi accent and your skepticism in the Faith of the Andals, he found himself falling for you.

Every lady his mother offered him all paled to you.

No gold, no lands, no alliances were enough to get you out of his head.

None could argue about philosophy and ethics and whether gods are real like you did. No one was as well read and interesting as you, fuck, some of them were not allowed to read because their fathers and septas were afraid of them becoming too smart for their husbands.

Father seemed to hint about it when he spoke to him until he got tired of Aemond’s indecisiveness and outright gave his blessings to wed you.

Cole had then told his mother, and mother had used her influence to end Aemond’s lessons and send you and your father back to Braavos.

You had been crying, Aemond had heard about the awful things his mother’s ladies and his own fucking mother had said about you to hasten your departure. “Have you come to say goodbye, my prince?”

“No.” because he does not plan on letting you leave, not that it was clear by his words or façade. “When we first met you so said you taught from behind a curtain because men fell in love with you.”

“And you said you would be the exception.” You smile at the memory of it, and he gains confidence to voice this secret only you seem oblivious to.

“I lied. I have fallen for you…so I’m fucked.” He admits and wishes for the ground to swallow him.

Gods, this was fucking embarrassing.

“As crudely as you put it, we are both fucked.” The word sounds rather adorable when you say it. “I am afraid I have fallen for you too, my prince.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x braavosi!fem!reader

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bratshaws · 1 year

Text

through the hourglass 63. brb x oc

a/n: oh my god we reached 63 chapters holy sHIT i swear i am just.........speechless...wow thank you guys so much for the constant support! Mean so much to me!!!

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none, Rooster being in love with Bea and missing being a dad uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/

25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44

45/46/47/48/49/50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @dhwanishah09 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23

Bradley missed them so much already. It was almost painful how much he missed Beatrice’s smile and Nicole’s little squealed laughs, and the dogs. God he missed the dogs too. He couldn’t say how long he stayed looking at his phone where several pictures of Bea and Nicole were, pictures he took without her knowing.

Like the one where she was sitting on the floor with her hair up in a bun, Nicole sleeping on her chest and the dogs lying around them, Beatrice’s eyes on the tv as she watched a documentary he couldn’t remember what it was about now.

Or the one where she’s outside with Nicole, sitting on one of the lounge chairs they bought looking at a few birds that made their nest in Beatrice’s birdhouse, the one she made months ago. And he lied on his bunk looking at the pictures for God knows how long, smiling at every single one he saw and hoping his girls were okay.

Which they were,if that wasn’t the case surely he’d know about it already.

But he couldn’t help but remember Cyclone’s words, how he said Nicole was going to question his absence,question why he had to leave,question why he was gone for so long…he hated how that made him feel. Of course his daughter was too young to actually know what was happening but she was also very smart for an infant considering how she was already vocalizing and giving people the stinky eye.

Bradley sighs heavily, dropping his head on the pillow,reaching down in his bag to grab the scent pouch Beatrice made him. It was still fragrant albeit the fabric of the pouch itself was a bit frail in the middle because of his constant touching and rubbing, just like he was doing now. He didn’t want it to rip open so he had to be extra careful with it right now. He looked at the dry flowers inside, moving them about for a few seconds and then groaning with his hands coming up to his eyes.

“Fuck,I miss her so bad.” he mumbled, damn him for having such a soft heart when it came to Beatrice. He knew this wouldn’t change anything in his job besides the constant earning of having Beatrice back considering that the second he stepped out of his bunk and into the jet his focus was on getting the job done so he could go back to Bea and Nikki.

He didn’t want to do it, but he was looking it up online to see how big a four months old baby would be. Nicole was already a big infant so he assumed she’d spurt up quite quickly by the time he returned. When he saw the pictures his heart clenched because it was like he was missing so much already.

“I can’t be thinking like this.” And yet he was “Bea is going to update me with pictures of Nikki, it’s going to be fine. I don’t have to worry so much about it after all, it wasn’t like it’s the end of the world.”

And yet.

Bradley huffed out a sigh, dropping his phone on his chest as he looked at the top bunk above him. This time there was no snoring Fanboy like usual, it was Payback who was there instead and he slept like a rock. Like a big,silent rock, he was the one person no one minded sharing a bunk with since he was so quiet all the time.

And while Rooster appreciated it, he kind of missed the noise from Fanboy because his thoughts were getting too loud. He knew it was late here but he couldn’t sleep, so he grabbed his phone and quickly typed a message to Bea

Rooster (23:33)

Hey gorgeous, I know it’s only been a week since I was gone but…I really miss you. And I miss Nikki and the dogs. how have you been? I know it’s probably late there so you don’t have to reply yet,I just wanted to hear from you <3

Amazingly, the chat bubble popped up seconds after he sent it.

Bea (23:35)

Roos! It’s okay :) me and Nikki are watching the Golden Girls. We are fine, she’s been fine too, the dogs as well. We are managing everything! We miss you too so much but we both know you’ll come back soon :3 oh let me show you something.

He waits by rereading her words again and his stomach is warm with butterflies, no matter how long their relationship was he still had the same feelings from the first time they got together. That’s the power of being with someone who is your soulmate. He blinks when he sees it’s a video, so he hurries to grab his air pods to not wake Payback up, peeking at the other pilot only to see that he was facing the wall.

He gets comfortable, with the air pods on and press play on the video.

The first thing he sees it’s Nicole’s big green eyes staring back at him, she’s lying on top of Beatrice’s thighs and her hands are trying to take hold of the phone “Nikki,no,hold on!” her laughter sounds magical to his ears and he sees she’s holding the phone a bit higher to show Nicole’s outfit “So,this is one of Marcus’ gifts for Nikki,” the shirt was white with tiny birds drawn on the fabric, all of them in different shades of orange and red “And I thought it’d be nice to- Nikki, no,mommy needs the phone.”

Cue to Nicole reaching for the phone one more time and eventually taking hold of it “Oh,okay, okay,I was just showing daddy your outfit!” Nicole’s eye was huge as she pushed it up against the lens, moving around curiously with the vocalization of ‘ah,ah,ah’, holding it back to then press her mouth against it, “No!Nikki, don’t bite it,” cue to their daughter continuous gummy chewing, “No,no, honey you can’t chew it,Okay, give it to me. Thank you.”

“Anyway,” she lifts the phone again “It’s something I wanted to show you because I thought you’d like it. Because Nicole looks so cute,” she tickles Nicole’s tummy making the little girl gurgle out a laugh “Oh!Another thing,Jake and Bob showed up and Jake said he is the best uncle. I know you’ll probably have something to say about that, but you know, it’s something to think about..oh! And he gave Nikki, uh…” there’s the sound of ruffling in the background while he still has Nicole looking up at him “Found it! Look.”

It’s a chick hair clip. It’s an actual chick hair clip.

“He said he saw it and thought of her. I’ve tried on her head and she didn’t hate it so,” cue to Nicole’s eyes moving to the hair clip, trying to grab the largest part - the chick - of it only for Beatrice to move it away, turning the camera to her face this time, “So,yeah! That’s what’s been happening and- the dogs are fine too by the way! They are fine! We all are.” she smiles down at the phone, “Anyway,I think I recorded too much so I’m going to end this here! Say bye to daddy,Nikki!”

Nicole just ‘ah’s’ trying to grab the phone again, so Beatrice grabs the arm reaching up to give the camera a little wave “Bye,daddy! I love you so much!” and the recording is done.

When the video is over he’s immediately reminded of the time he lurked in Beatrice’s Instagram and saw her video with Bianca - who was probably two or three by that time - and how that just latched into his brain for so long. Maybe it was the one thing that made him fall in love with her back then without him even knowing.

Because Beatrice was normally so guarded and shy while at the bar, seeing her having fun,smiling, holding her little niece like that just showed that under that shield protecting herself was someone who was fun and sweet and who he wanted to talk so badly. He was more than happy to have this update, it meant a lot to him considering his thoughts from earlier…Beatrice was right, there was nothing to worry about especially because she’d always message him about Nikki.

Roos (23:55)

Gorgeous, thanks for the video. I loved it and she looks adorable as always…and tell Jake to fuck off about being the best uncle, I’d never allow that.

Bea (23:55)

Roos.

Roos (23:56)

Okay,maybe I’ll allow a little bit just because the gift he got Nikki is super cute and it’ll only make our girl look even cuter than she already is…but you sound tired,gorgeous. have you been sleeping well?

Bea (23:59)

Ah, you noticed that. I’m fine,I’m sleeping normally it’s just that the bar is so packed that I’m…waking up more tired than normal lol. But I promise you I’m fine.

Roos (00:00)

Hm,if you say so,pretty girl.

Bea (00:00)

I promise…Oh! There’s um, there’s another video I’ll send you…later. Just,well,maybe I’ll send it to you via email. We’ll see.

Roos (00:01)

Oh? Gorgeous, what are you planning?

Bea (00:02)

Nothing! Just…something I can’t tell you much yet. :3

His heart felt at peace just by this conversation, the blue light of his phone illuminated his face and the curve of his smile as he reread her texts over and over. The pang in his heart was still present but much less, he knew he’d go home soon and safe, he knew that his girls would be okay and he knew they wouldn’t be alone.

Neither Jake nor Bob messaged him these past weeks, the group chat barely active since they were out of the country right now so he just accepted the obvious: they’d be fine.

He’d be up for more time but his eyes started to droop, the tension from moments before dissipated into nothing as the words on the screen blurred together into unknown blobs of color. He just woke up more when he felt it vibrate in his hand with another message from Beatrice.

Bea (00:10)

Roos? Are you asleep? If you are, ignore this!!

He chuckled quietly,”You are so cute.” he whispered, “Cutest thing in the whole fuckin’ world,I swear.”

Roos (00:10)

Blacked out for a second gorgeous, nothing more. But I should sleep right now.

Bea (00:11)

Oh no! Am I keeping you awake? :( I’m sorry!

Roos (00:11)

Baby, of course not, you aren’t doing anything wrong. I promise you.

Bea (00:12)

Well,if you are tired Roos, pls sleep. I want you to have a good night of sleep and be alert for whatever is thrown at you!

Roos (00:13)

Ugh, you are so cute.I love you so much…but you are right,I’m going to hit the hay now…talk to you soon okay? I love you, please kiss Nikki for me.

Bea (00:13)

<3 I love you too,Roos. Stay safe and I will!!

Rooster smiled at his phone for a few more seconds before he dropped it back inside his bag, turning it off to save battery for the next few days. Once he did that and the whole area was darkened and silent, he turned on his side to have his left hand close to his face. The lack of light only made it harder for him to see his wedding ring but he didn’t mind, he turned it around his finger with his thumb for a few seconds until his eyes fluttered closed and he finally fell asleep.

There was always the weird feeling of waking up and not seeing Rooster and panicking for a brief second only to remember he was deployed. Beatrice sighs while on the bed, dropping her palm over her eyes with a groan as she rubs her face. She keeps her hands on her cheeks after rubbing the sleep off her eyes, only to keep her vision on the ceiling because she’s still one thread away from dreamland.

She was so happy to hear from Rooster, she knew he was busy and never complained how long it took for him to reply to her messages as long as he did so. Beatrice sighs, one of her hands reaching over to her phone to check the time “Yep, still five in the morning,” she mutters, yawning quietly before pushing herself to a sitting position to check the baby monitor app in Nicole’s room.

Her daughter was asleep still, thankfully, with a perfect starfish pose inside her crib with Ellie and Jack keeping her company lying by her crib. Beatrice smiles, closing the app and then checking her phone since she’d be busy with Nikki in a few minutes. There were no messages from Rooster, but she had one from Marcus who asked her how she was and apologized about the time since he had just returned from Greece and was getting used to the California time zone again.

Beatrice just typed a message back to him saying that he shouldn’t worry. Her cousins also got quiet, they didn’t block her but they were eerily silent since her outburst in their mother’s house, “Good, let’s keep it that way.”

She also checked the weather, thinking it’d be nice to take Nikki out that morning if the time was nice enough. From what she checked it wasn’t going to rain until late in the afternoon so she decided that after breakfast they could go out with the dogs to a park and enjoy themselves.

Beatrice furrows her brows however when she sees a message from Hannah. While the two weren’t on bad terms anymore it was strange to have her messaging suddenly, they weren’t that close after all.

Hey, can we meet up today? To talk?

Weird.

But Beatrice replied with “What time? I have to take care of my daughter so my time is limited.” she added an emoji at the end…then noticed that the message was sent seven hours ago and it was obvious that Hannah was asleep, “Sorry! I just saw the time you sent it! Ooops!” she hoped it wouldn’t bring anything bad out of her because of that mistake.

While on Instagram she saw that there were, again, more anon accounts and she couldn’t really bother trying to block them anymore since they always showed up no matter what.

While looking down at the gray icon she just…felt this anger. Why is this still happening and there was no resolution? No matter what they always come back, it’s been…about three years now? Almost four years since this has been happening, ever since she and Rooster got together.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes at the account, opening the dms to send them a message until the baby monitor app popped up on the screen to let her know that ‘NICOLE is awake!’ with a small video of Nikki wriggling her little arms as she breaks out of her slumber. Beatrice pauses, looking from the video to the account and sighs, “There are better things in my mind.” she says before blocking this account as well.

She just kicks the covers off, deciding to make them after breakfast, and marches to Nicole’s room. Eleanor and Jack are already up and about, with the youngest of the twins marching out of the room so his sister is the one in there with Beatrice until Jolene joins them as well, “Hi,Nikki,” she coos, seeing her daughter’s scrunched up face. She gasps softly seeing that the expression is identical to Rooster when he wakes up: squinty eyes, pursed lips and hair a mess. “Hi,sweetie, good morning.”

Nicole rubs her fists against her face in a feeble attempt to clean her eyes, “Okay,come on, up you go, let’s check you out and then give you breakfast yeah?” Nicole hums, much like Rooster did while waking up too, “God, you are so much like him already.”

After changing and cleaning Nicole and giving her the breakfast - which she was very eager to have - they walked downstairs to where the dogs were,lying next to the bouncer as usual. She greeted them after putting Nicole down and getting ready to prepare her own breakfast which she had no idea what it’d be.

Pancakes wouldn’t hurt but she feared it’d only make her miss Rooster way too much.

Thinking about him made a smile appear on her face though, because their conversation from yesterday was so fun and helped her own fears disappear. She felt a bit bad about lying to him that Nicole was okay with his absence, she wasn’t, not really but it has gotten better these past days and she’s not crying that much.

Staying with her nonni helped a lot too, her parents always made sure to give Nicole enough attention so she wouldn’t be so upset.

That and Rooster’s shirt that she left by the crib, that’s been helping Nikki too.

“Ah,Nikki,” she begins as she cracks two eggs in a bowl, “You have no idea how much you and your dad are similar, expression like, you know? I mean it’s like looking at a mirror when I look at you.”

And the fact that she had seen Bradley’s baby pictures and the similarity was on the nose.

Nicole babbled a bit, kicking her little legs as she tried to reach the mobile yet again but instead touched Eleanor’s pink snout when she sniffed her hand. Her daughter’s eyes were locked on Eleanor and she gurgled a giggle, this time gently touching the dog’s face, “And you love dogs too, just like him….and well, me too.” Beatrice grins, pouring some milk in her omelet before mixing a bit more, “...I just hope he gets home soon…and safe…he worries so much in his job. And it’s a dangerous one too.”

More babbling from Nicole.

“I mean, he’s also so good at what he does.” Beatrice smiles as the pan sizzles, “And he’s so smart and funny and sweet and–” and the dreamy sigh that escapes her mouth was enough to make her cheeks turn red, “And he still makes me feel like I’m floating everytime we talk.” she bites her lower lip, “It’s a shame we won’t be able to celebrate our anniversary though,I know he was so excited for it.” but she had something planned for the time their anniversary came up at least, so she could be excited for that.

Nicole babbles again, ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh’s’ followed by the constant gurgling only made Beatrice smile, “I agree,Nikki, your daddy needs to have something fun to come back to…and you’ll be a pretty big baby-well more than you already are- when he comes back.” she says, looking back at Nicole only to see her legs kicking and moving more, “Oh, before I forget we need to get you to your check up, we can take uncle Mikey with us! I just need to check with the clinic and make sure it’s scheduled.”

As she said that she heard her phone ping from upstairs and she couldn’t really leave the kitchen to get it - and for someone to send a message so early in the morning? Must’ve been important.- “Ellie, can you get my phone for me?” the white dog tilts her head at Beatrice, “The phone, you know?” she holds out her pinky and thumb to her ear, “This thing? You got my bag before but I need my phone now.”

Eleanor stares at her for a few more seconds before sprinting up the stairs to retrieve the phone. And she does retrieve the phone much to Beatrice’s surprise! It’s slobbery all over and the phone case has some dents because of Eleanor’s teeth but it’s working. “Thank you,Ellie!”

She wipes her phone the best she could and furrows her brows when sees that Marcus was the one who messaged her.

Marcus (06:15)

Darling! Can you come over by the studio today? I’d love to see you so we can discuss the new collection!

Bea (06:15)

Marcus, oh my god did you even sleep?

Marcus (06:16)

Of course! I am fine, my darling! But can you come over? Around morning?

Bea (06:16)

Well…I don’t know I…I have my baby with me and Rooster is deployed so I don’t know if that would be possible?

Marcus (06:17)

Darling! Bring the little one over!I want to meet her! :) plus she’ll have a little spot prepared just for her in any case. It’s just to sit down with you a bit.

Bea (06:18)

Sit down with me? But the last time we did this you didn’t have to sit me down?

Marcus (06:18)

Exactly,darling! :) can you come?

Bea (06:19)

Hmmm…okay, I think I can show up quickly. I can’t stay too long though.”

But Marcus was just glad to hear a ‘yes’ from Beatrice…even if the brunette was confused as to why he needed to see her so soon. “Well,” she says out loud, “Looks like you are meeting Marcus today,Nikki.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

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joaquinwhorres · 2 years

Text

Tailspin - Part 2 (Fanboy Garcia x F!OC)

SUMMARY ››››› Having grown up just across the bridge from North Island, Carolina Alvarez has been told her whole life to stay away from the Top Gun boys. And for the most part, she has. That is, until Fanboy catches her putting quarters in the jukebox at The Hard Deck and initiates a game of cat and mouse that ends with her exactly where she swore she’d never be.

PAIRING ››››› Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x F!OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,845

WARNINGS ››››› None

MASTERLIST ››››› Here

A/N ››››› I can't believe I forgot to mention my lovely beta-readers @rae-gar-targaryen and of course @bobfloydsbabe. @bobfloydsbabe has also done me the honor of allowing me to use her OC Jasmine Lane in this story which I am beyond thankful for.

Caro never planned on coming back to the Hard Deck.

Given her reluctance to even step foot in the navy bar in the first place and the subsequent events which had done nothing but affirm her initial aversion, coming back now seemed borderline masochistic. She'd already spent more than her fair share of time within the wood paneled walls.

But she'd promised him that she would come for a drink, and she was nothing if not a woman of her word.

No matter how ill-thought her word might have been.

Caro took another deep breath in as she eyed the oceanside bar out of her passenger-side window. And then, before she could convince herself to do the smart thing and just go home, she pulled her keys from the ignition and propelled herself out of the driver's seat and towards the wooden front doors. She allowed the momentum of her decision to push her through the doors and back into the last place on earth she wanted to be.

Even in the early evening light, the interior of the bar looked largely the same. It was still full of men and women in the same starched tan uniforms. It was still undeniably and inescapably Navy themed. It was still what some might generously describe as cozy.

Caro scanned the room, eyes searching the groups of laughing friends and jockulating sailors that dotted the room. Her eyes caught on several tanned figures with their dark hair buzzed short, her breath catching in her throat each time before they turned and revealed a nose that was too long or lips that were too thin.

She had just decided to get herself a drink before doing a walk around when, halfway through her first step, she was very nearly run over.

"Oh!" Caro exclaimed, hands shooting out to hold the shoulders of the auburn haired woman who had suddenly shot in front of her. The move was successful in keeping them from fully colliding into each other and tumbling to the floor. Instead, the other woman startled back, the drink in her hand sloshing between them as her head whipped forward from where she'd been staring over her shoulder.

The surprise on her face only grew.

"Doctor Alvarez?"

Caro blinked, her mind venturing through the haze of surprise to pin a name to the familiar face that stood before her.

"Jasmine!" Caro breathed, letting her hands fall from her patient's shoulders. "Hi."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't get any on you, did I?" Jasmine asked, eyes scanning Caro's loose floral shirt and jeans for the tell tale splotches of alcohol. Caro joined her in the quick assessment, and shook her head.

"You missed me," she said, eyes rising back to meet Jasmine's face. "How are you?"

"Good." The word was high and breezy and sounded very much like the "yeah" Jasmine offered whenever Caro asked if she'd been keeping up with stretching at home. "You?"

"I'm good too," Caro lied, offering a professional smile that seemed to put even her most nervous patients at ease. Only instead of noddign or smiling or wrapping up the conversation there, Jasmine's head tilted once more, this time more slight as her eyes also narrowed the smallest bit in assessment. She'd forgotten that Jasmine was well versed with the bedside smile. She'd probably given out plenty of them hserself. "I'm here with the office for Bryson's birthday," Caro explained, hoping to carry the conversation along and away from herself.

This seemed to successfully distract the other woman as Jasmine's eyebrows shot up. "Here?"

Caro laughed, running a hand through her hair. "He picked it out, I don't know."

"Not really the place for birthday drinks," Jasmine remarked, looking around the room, and Caro could not possibly have agreed with her any more than she did right then.

"You come here often?"

Jasmine barked out a laugh, her characteristic grin finally making an appearance. "Are you hitting on me, doctor?"

The question pulled Caro out of her head, a laugh escaping her as she felt herself relax a little, the surprise of seeing Jasmine and anxiety over being here at all leaving her for a moment. It was Jasmine's gift, she'd noticed; getting people to step out of themselves if even just for a moment. It was part of the reason Caro had come to enjoy their weekly sessions so much.

"You just seemed to know it well."

Jasmine acknowledged this with a bobble of her head. "Yeah, it's the big place to come after work on base."

Caro really should have known that. She knew Jasmine was a doctor on base and this was a Navy bar. It made all of the sense in the world for Jasmine to be here and not expect her entire chiropractor's office to be seated around one of the tables.

"Any advice, then?" Caro asked.

Jasmine's smile grew at the question, and Caro had to admit it sounded a little dumb asking for advice on how to navigate a bar, but before she could say as much, Jasmine was talking. "Yeah. Stay away from sailors, and don't put your phone on the bar."

Despite the fact that Caro was the absolute last person who needed to be warned away from Navy boys, she still felt grateful that she wasn't the only one who seemed to see through the sailors' charades.

"Thanks," Caro smiled, this one warmer and more genuine than the first she had offered, and Jasmine seemed to notice this too. "I guess I should probably work my way over to the group, but it was good to see you."

"You too," Jasmine nodded, her brow creasing as she noticed something over Caro's shoulder. "Tell Bryson happy birthday from me."

"I will," Caro answered, but she'd hardly gotten it out before Jasmine had started off, disappearing quickly in the crowd and leaving Caro alone once more.

Despite the crowd, the battle towards the bar was fairly easy and service came rather quickly. It wasn't long before Caro had a tequila soda in hand and was approaching her coworkers table. The group of three had already been here for forty-five minutes, and a couple of shot glasses and three glasses with varying levels of drink in them were scattered amongst them. It seemed that they were not too far gone though because Robin noticed her fairly quickly.

"Caro, you made it!" the office manager greeted, beaming and moving over in her seat so that Caro could slip in. "Hard time leaving the house?"

That was an understatement. Not only did she have a difficult time getting out the door of her house, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to get out of her car for a good fifteen minutes. Instead, she sat in the parking lot, staring over her steering wheel as she tried to find it in her to go inside the bar.

"There was a little drama around missing shoes. Sorry I'm so late," she apologized. Robin laughed, shaking her head knowingly at Caro as the coworkers across the table gave her looks that belied their suspicions. Gia eyed her carefully, as if she might break at any moment and the younger receptionist didn't want to be caught in the mess. Bryson, for his part, looked a bit too happy to see her; as if his large toothy smile could make up for her own discomfort.

"You're fine," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. "It's just a shame you missed the singalong."

"The singalong?" Caro repeated. If Gia had been the one to mention it, Caro might suspect that she was being messed with, but not only was Bryson too earnest to ever even think of the joke, he couldn't keep up under the pressure of continuing it.

"Some guy unplugged the jukebox and played a few songs at the piano," Gia filled in. "Him." She reached across Bryson, pointing out a man wearing a ridiculous Hawiian shirt and aviators indoors. Everything about him practically screamed Top Gun pilot, and that was before Caro even noticed the dark haired woman in the khaki uniform next to him.

Her eyes didn't linger on the pair long, too drawn to the jukebox in the corner that looked exactly the same as it had the first time she ever saw it. The urge to cross the room and greet her old friend rose in her, a wistful smile crossing her lips as she listened to it belt out "The Boys Are Back in Town".

"I know, he's cute, right?"

Caro tore her gaze away from the jukebox and back to Gia, blinking as she worked to make sense of the comment. The singer, she remembered, prompting her eyebrows to shoot up at Gia. "He looks ridiculous."

"But his voice," Bryson practically swooned. "I'm telling you, that voice alone could get someone pregnant tonight."

She felt the rustling of Robin's foot swinging under the table and into Bryson's shin, causing the man to wince.

"Has anyone brought you a drink yet?" Caro asked, choosing to breeze over the awkwardness even as Bryson reached down to rub at his leg.

"Just these two," he said, gesturing to Robin and Gia as he straightened up. "I'm eyeing out my prospects now, though. Letting my gaydar acclimate."

Gia and Caro laughed at this, Caro looking out over the bar as if she had any kind of skill in picking out men. Her eyes skipped along the different groups, hoping to catch the gaze of someone looking over at the table when instead she caught sight of an oddly familiar blonde leaning over the bar to get the bartender's attention.

Her eyebrows knit together as she tried to place where she'd seen him before, flipping through the variable rolodex in her head. It wasn't until she turned to the college years that she came up with it though, and she doubted she would have been able to place him if she had seen him anywhere else.

He was a Top Gun pilot.

A former Top Gun pilot.

"You ok?" Robin asked, and Caro blinked, turning back to the group and offering a fleeting smile.

"Yeah," she affirmed, her voice sounding distant, like it hadn't returned to the table with her. "I just thought I saw this pilot my old roommate used to hook up with."

"Really? Where?" Gia asked, sitting up in her seat to peer into the crowd even as Caro shook her head.

"It's probably not him," she said. "People don't come back to Top Gun."

The statement was met with sympathetic looks from Bryson and Robin that made Caro feel very much like coming here was a mistake. Not only did she have to deal with her own neuroses all night, but now there was this.

As if God wanted to confirm this thought, a new song came on the jukebox, the twanging chords of the intro knocking all of the air out of Caro's lungs. Her chest constricted at the sound of Van Morrison's voice picking up the first verse.

"Caro?"

Instead of looking at whoever said her name, Caro's eyes snapped to the jukebox as if by muscle memory. It was a stupid reflex, a useless one. Because she was right: people didn't come back to Top Gun. What did happen was long work weeks made high strung people ready to assume the worst and most ridiculous outcomes of totally normal coincidences. If this could even be called that.

But as her eyes landed on the brown-skinned man in the service khakis standing by the jukebox, his hair still buzzed and smile just as bright as ever, all semblance of logic and rationality escaped her.

Because this should not be happening. He could not be looking back at her across the bar right now.

"Oh my God," Caro whispered, feeling very much like she was going to throw up.

Across the table, Bryson leaned forward. "Girl, you are whiter than Gia. What's happening?"

She knew what he was saying, knew what he meant, but she couldn't manage to form any sort of response other than repeating again: "Oh my God."

Over by the jukebox, the man's smile seemed to waver slightly, as the rest of the table turned to shift their concerned looks from Caro to the direction she was looking. He gave a small, awkward wave.

"Is that…?" Gia turned around first, cutting herself off as if not wanting to speak the end into existence. It's not like they needed her to finish the question anyway. They all knew exactly what she was going to ask.

Caro nodded slowly, watching as confusion and concern overtook his features and missing Bryson's eyes widening in shock. "Holy shit."

"He's coming over here," Gia announced needlessly as the others were already watching him start to move towards the table.

Robin shifted in her seat next to Caro, trying to usher her out of the booth. "I'll head him off," she said, making a shooing motion which Caro followed on instinct, only stopping once she was standing at the edge of the seat, looking between her coworkers and the last person she wanted to see.

"No, I–no," Caro said, fumbling in her attempt to pull herself together. "I think I should…you…I'll–I'll be right back."

The other three looked at her silently, Robin looking very much like she wanted to stop her. But she didn't. Instead she pressed her lips into a line and nodded.

Caro mirrored the gesture, pausing for another moment before turning to move towards him.

The two met by the bar where the crowd was thickest and preoccupied by getting their drinks or enticing someone into coming home with them. Caro was thankful for the crowd now if only for the fact that it meant she didn't have to be stuck alone with him.

The aviator planted himself before her, a tentative smile back on his lips now that he was certain he at least had her attention.

"Hey," he greeted, brown eyes soft and excited, just like they had always been. They pinned Caro to the spot making her feel suddenly small and even more unprepared for this moment than she thought possible.

"Hi," she breathed. The word came out more as an exhale than actual language, and his lips quirked up slightly more at the sound.

"Come here often?"

It was odd, hearing the question come from him with the same words and same intention she'd had when asking Jasmine fifteen minutes ago. Yet despite the teasing lilt in his voice, the line made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Never," she managed, and he chuckled at this.

"I'm guessing you still don't talk to Top Gun pilots then?"

"What are you doing here, Mickey?"

Whether it was the question itself or the accusational tone that delivered it, the confused-concern washed the smile from Mickey's face once more. Only the corner of his mouth seemed to keep its bit of happiness, curving up just slightly into a sheepish sort of look.

"I got called back," he answered with a shrug. "Payback's here too–Reuben." He gestured to the pool tables where a group of sailors stood watching them, including the man with the ridiculous Hawiian shirt, the woman with tied up dark hair, and a familiar dark-skinned pilot who had apparently grown a mustache since she'd last seen him. "I'm sure he wants to say hi."

Caro blinked, shaking her head slightly in disbelief as she returned her attention to him. "Why'd you—I didn't think—you're back?"

"Not for good," Mickey admitted, his shoulders sinking as he said it. "Just a few weeks."

"A few weeks," she repeated.

His confusion was dwarfed by obvious concern now, and he took a moment to look at her, really look at her, eyes roving and assessing each detail of her that might have changed in the past five years. She wanted to disappear then, off into the crowd like Jasmine had or melt through the floor; whatever was fastest.

"Are you ok? You seem—" he trailed off searching for the right word but ultimately seemed unable to find it, switch gears instead to ask: "Is something wrong?"

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again," Caro admitted.

Something in her face or maybe the fact that she didn't even attempt to deny that something was very obviously horrendously wrong hit Mickey, and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I tried to text you," he said, hesitantly, and Caro's breath caught in her chest once more. He hurried to explain. "Just to tell you that I would be in town. I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I wanted to see you."

Mickey took a step towards her, and Caro leaned back, out of his reach. "Why?" This word was once more just breath, and if she had any control over her faculties at the moment, she wouldn't have even asked it. She knew why, and she didn't want it confirmed.

He shrugged. "I missed you."

She closed her eyes and turned her head away at this, unable to bear the hopeful look on his face. Like this was what she wanted to hear after all this time. Like she wanted to hear anything from him at all anymore.

"Caro–"

He didn't get to finish his sentence as right when he began to continue, Caro was jolted to the side, a cool splash and the overwhelming smell of hops hitting her at the same time.

"Oh my God!" the person who had bumped into her exclaimed as Caro looked down at her shirt to assess the damage. "I am so sorry."

Caro looked up from the dark spots of beer on her shirt, her eyes meeting Jasmine's. There was something far less apologetic in the other woman's eyes and instead more…searching.

"It's ok. It happens," Caro dismissed, pulling the wet shirt from her skin and fluttering it as if that would dry it. For his part, Mickey had darted over to the bar, gathering up a stack of cocktail napkins which he now offered to Caro. She took a few from him in exchange for a quick, tight smile and then proceeded to dab at her shirt.

"I don't think that's going to cut it," Jasmine frowned at the napkins that were already falling apart in Caro's hands. "They have paper towels in the bathroom though, and maybe we can try to rinse it?"

Caro nodded, casting a look at Mickey who seemed very much like he wanted to follow them into the bathroom if it meant that he got to continue his conversation with Caro. "I'm sorry, Mickey," she apologized. "I just–I can't."

She didn't stick around for his response. Not even when he called out her name at her back. Instead, she crossed the bar as quickly as possible, napkins pressed into her side to soak up as much beer as possible. Jasmine matched step.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine. It's an old shirt anyway–" Caro started, but Jasmine shook her head.

"No, I mean with him."

Caro looked at Jasmine, and peering into the other woman's concerned face, she started to piece together what had just happened and why she was on her way into the woman's bathroom. "I probably could have thought of a better way to get you out of there, but you looked trapped." She pulled the door to the women's bathroom open, ushering Caro inside.

Caro sighed, dumping the napkins into the trashcan by the door before moving to the closest sink to start attempting to rinse the beer from her shirt. Behind her, the door swung closed and the rapid sound of the paper towels' dispenser handle being pressed filled the bathroom.

"That's my ex," Caro finally offered, her voice more unsteady than she would have liked it to be while speaking to a patient.

"Your ex?" Jasmine repeated, her pace on the handle slowing as she met Caro's gaze in the mirror. "Like, your ex, your ex?"

Caro nodded.

"Holy shit," Jasmine swore, her hand falling from the paper towels, instead looking blankly around the bathroom as if searching for someone else to ask if they believed this shit. It took a few seconds for her to come back to herself, Caro's shirt now thoroughly damp with the tap water instead of beer. "Do you want me to kick his ass?" she asked finally, placing her hands on her hips and looking for all the world like she would.

Caro snorted. "No, getting me out of there was more than enough. Thank you, by the way."

Jasmine grimaced, tearing off what had to be at least a couple of yards of paper towels and bunching it together. "Us lady doctors need to stick together," she smiled, offering the bundle to Caro. "Especially when it comes to Navy guys."

Caro laughed at this, thinking of Mr. Simmonds who had once gone off in the waiting room about how he would rather wait forty-five minutes for Dr. Katz than be seen by "the lady doctor." Jasmine, who had also been in the waiting room, had looked straight up murderous at the comment and demanded from Bryson that her appointment with Dr. Houten be switched to the lady doctor and only ever the lady doctor from then on out.

Caro accepted the towels and began to attempt to at least alleviate some of the dripping from her shirt. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it," Jasmine said with a shake of her head. "At least not until we've successfully gotten you out of here and not just trapped in the women's bathroom."

Caro sighed, defeatedly. Not only were the paper towels not working even a little bit, but there was no way that she could stay to celebrate Bryson while she was half-soaked and Mickey was here. Jasmine was right: she had to escape.

"I'm thinking, I go out there first and run cover, and you grab your purse from your table and make a break for the front door."

Caro laughed, walking over to the trash can and throwing the useless paper towels in. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm going to."

Caro smiled as she looked at the other woman, gratitude filling her. "Thanks, Jasmine."

"I think after this, you get to call me Jas."

"Ok," Caro nodded before gesturing to herself. "Then, Caro."

Jas nodded back in agreement before giving Caro an assessing look. "So… you ready, Caro?"

She wasn't. But she never would be. Instead, Caro nodded, dumping the wet paper towels into the garbage. "Might as well be."

The WSO rejoined the group looking just as lost as he had standing alone in the middle of the bar, watching Caro be whisked away from him by some stranger. Rooster noted the look on Fanboy's face with a low whistle, the rest of their group shaking their heads in a mixture of sympathy and amusement, the exact amounts of each emotion clearly varying per person. Only Payback remained still, instead eyeing Fanboy as if he could determine exactly what was said just by looking at his back-seater.

"Shot you down pretty bad, huh?" Rooster asked, his attempt to keep the amusement from his voice clearly failing as he clapped the young aviator on the shoulder.

Coyote didn't even try to hide his own entertainment, as he offered his own commentary. "You were so confident going in," he laughed, mimicking a plane taking off with his hand. "And then…" His plane took a hard nosedive, hurtling towards an explosion which Coyote made sure to voice, his fingers wiggling in shockwaves. Rooster chuckled at this, his hand remaining on Fanboy who had yet to say anything or even shrug him off.

"You ok?" Payback asked.

The sound of genuine concern prompted Phoenix to turn and face him, her eyebrows furrowed together even deeper at this. Even Rooster seemed to take notice of the tone, offering Payback a quick glance before looking back at Fanboy.

"Hey, it happens to the best of us," the pilot said, shaking Fanboy's shoulder a bit before letting his hand drop to his side.

The other man still didn't say anything, just nodded.

"What's up with him?" Phoenix asked, the question directed to Payback and sounding very much as if Fanboy wasn't even there. Which, to be fair, he didn't really seem to be. His gaze had been drawn off towards the bathrooms, his focus unwavering as the corner of his lips pulled down into a frown.

Payback pulled his eyes from Fanboy to Phoenix. "That's his ex."

"Your ex?" Rooster's eyebrows shot up as Coyote let out another laugh.

"Man, you know you gotta run game before you hit up an ex," Coyote remarked, shaking his head. "C'mon."

This comment seemed to be the first one to actually reach Fanboy as he returned his attention to the group. "She didn't answer any of my texts. I mean, we haven't been in touch, but she didn't even open them or anything," he shook his head, seeming to run out of steam or ability to resist Caro's magnetic draw. Or maybe he just knew that the girl's bathroom door was about to open as it did, Caro and the girl who had spilled her drink all over Fanboy's ex, coming out.

Caro chanced a look over to the jukebox and then towards their section of the bar, her shoulders straightening as she noticed Fanboy's attention on her. Her head snapped forwards and she took off quickly to her table of friends, weaving determinedly through the other groups of bar patrons.

"She probably blocked you," Phoenix said bluntly, her eyes tracking the girl's progress as well, watching as she arrived at the booth, grabbing her bag from the seat and offering a few quick words.

Everyone reacted to this differently. Coyote snickered, Rooster grimaced, and Bob winced in sympathy. Fanboy's attention was ripped away from Caro, the full desperation of his look levied against Phoenix who seemed almost…annoyed.

"So what did you do?" she asked, arms crossing across her chest and a single brow lifting up.

"Nothing!" Fanboy defended, and while he did sound understandably offended, there was also the tiniest bit of doubt in his voice. Just enough for someone who had spent hours upon hours with him to notice.

"C'mon she had to have dumped you for a reason," Coyote pressed, joining in on Phoenix's interrogation.

Fanboy's head whipped to Coyote. "She didn't dump me," he snarled. The small display of aggression seemed to take the bit of energy and life he had out of him, as his shoulders slumped back down. Fanboy dropped his gaze to the ground shaking his head. "We just broke up at the end of Top Gun. I had to go back to my squadron and she was going to her grad program."

"So, it was a summer fling thing?" Rooster asked, placatingly.

Fanboy shrugged looking helpless to find the words to describe exactly what had transpired five years ago.

Payback shook his head. "Nah. It was more than a fling."

This confirmation was enough for Phoenix, her arms dropping to her sides as she looked up at Payback. "That's right, you were at Top Gun together," she remembered.

Payback nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, and they seemed legit. I was surprised you guys called it quits."

Fanboy shook his head, offering another shrug. "It was the plan," he said. His gaze wandered from Payback to the direction he had last seen Caro, this time finding her at the door, tugging it open and disappearing outside in one quick motion. "It's what she wanted."

Next Chapter >>

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oceansprompts · 6 months

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marvel's midnight suns | misc quotes 3

Tell me, do you have any tried and true ways to avoid being triggered?

How has your, uh, [abilities/job] affected your loved ones?

On the Stark scale of recklessness yet daring heroics I give it a solid six out of ten. Don’t worry, you’ll get there. With a little help.

Stopped here before, while you were out- wanted to surprise you with a nice little housewarming present. Was all set to write you a lovely welcome note but I’m fairly certain that wasn’t red ink in your “quill”.

Certainly got that new suit of yours done a lot faster than I expected. Speaking of… what’s the verdict, boss?

The roar of the ocean, winds moaning through the rafters…

So, you tell me: what’s not to be troubled about?

Hydra may be on the rise, but they will never rise above the Tower.

Go ahead! What are you waiting for?! Say it! Tell me I screwed up!

How did I let him play me like that?!

Half the night I’m shaking hands and managing expectations…

Are you really going to chase the birthday girl through a hellish dimension?

It’s not gonna be easy to get that sample…

I mean call me crazy…

Give me a couple hours and a decent lunch…

Gives us our biggest ace in the hole! I know, the irony isn’t lost on me.

I’m serious, what kind of hero are you…

If you can deliver, great. Otherwise, he should get out of the way, you know?

So in a way, it’s kind of poetic. I’m gonna use dad’s shady tech…

My appreciation of magic is evolving quite a bit…

I think he’s afraid I’m gonna turn around and become an even greater sorcerer than he is.

Every problem has a solution, my friend…

I don’t like to say that I do my best work under pressure, but I think this time, I even amazed myself.

Or maybe you’re smart and you know I can get us across the finish line?

How would you, ah, handle something like that?

If that fails, we shoot him off into outer space…

I know I said I was completely comfortable with that thing before, but I may have lied…

And now here we are, two friends, enjoying a moment…

Yeah. I don’t want to know card tricks or anything like that…

If you don’t mind, can we keep these lessons between you and me?

Is it crazy that I’m actually kind of enjoying this?

Yes! Blazing trumpets, fiery pits, Thor’s backyard–where did you end up?

Acceptable answers are “genius design,” “work of a genius”–really, anything involving the word “genius”.

Money isn’t everything, but it’s a lot of things…

No, the whole situation. Chasing magic pages from an evil book…

Well, I am in the middle of something. Come back later.

I cannot let such a fate happen to her.

And when all you knew was darkness and despair growing up…

What I eat is none of your business.

I do not think I will ever sleep again: not until we find her.

Don’t you also hear it calling out to you in your dreams sometimes, whispering secret things, dark think?

Like I said earlier, we’re all mutants. Not to freak you out or anything.

Wait, if you found your way to this place… What did you hear?

This day is an anniversary of my weakness… Nothing more.

I should stay here, this evening. I can endure the stares and the whispers… But not tonight.

You can, but I should not. Don’t worry, I will return in the morning.

She should trust us… We should be trusted.

I do. I just think wearing a hellhound’s skin to bypass a demonic barrier…

I don’t know if I’ve recovered from my traumas…

I did not say you. This…is a place I like to take all my…colleagues.

The others would not understand. But I know you do, as we both… Have so much in common.

And more importantly, you’re proving to be quite a good… friend.

It never felt right for a bad person like me to fight with the good guys… Until you showed me how.

Am I a monster for being grateful it happened as it did?

I will never apologize for being comfortable with my darkness…

When this battle is over, you should come back with me, join the X-Men.

There is always strangeness in the background. Like hippie aliens…

Made from octopus, marbled with ginger shavings…

Hunter, what I most appreciate is that you always know when to say nothing.

No. Something you can do by yourself during the bleak moments.

It must be worse for you. All the faces are new.

It comes so easy to you. Even when you are a butt, you are a likable butt.

This was the only music I had for so long…

Replacing you was too much to ask of her.

Not to me. You are incapable of replacing her.

#roleplay memes #rp sentence meme #sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay

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kitkatwinchester · 1 year

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LET'S F*CKING GOOOOOOO!!!

"If you lied and it gets people hurt, I'll be back to take away more than your pain."

LET'S F*CKING GO SCOTT!! THAT'S OUR BAD*SS TRUE ALPHA RIGHT THERE!!!! WE LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH!!!

Okay so first of all:

I officially do not blame Deucalion for anything. I honestly just feel so bad for him. He really did just want to try to come to some sort of peaceful resolution, and he 100% did NOT deserve that. And technically! His first kill of one of his Betas was sort of self-defense, so, like, even THAT wasn't originally devious. He just kind of....lost his mind, after everything.

Obviously we still need to stop him, and...kill him if we absolutely have to, but none of this is really his fault, because it's still F*CKING GERARD ARGENT'S!

BECAUSE F*CK YOU, GERARD!!

I also officially (not that I really did to begin with, tbh) don't blame Derek for anything. I mean, I've always felt bad for him, honestly. Like, obviously I was creeped out by and mad at him in the first season, but he grew on me really quickly, because he's Derek and he's really not a terrible guy. And to have to do what he did (which, by the way, the way that a werewolf's eye color does change to blue is such a cool thing (and Talia being literally the best mom—“different, but still beautiful, just like the rest of you"), is so freaking fascinating and I love it) is so unfair and super messed up and I BLAME F*CKING PETER!!

Because F*CK YOU PETER!!!

F*CK BOTH OF OUR F*CKING HORRIBLE UNRELIABLE F*CKING NARRATORS I HATE YOU BOTH!!

...okay, I don't hate Peter as much as I hate Gerard. I take that back. But I definitely don't TRUST him, and I'm glad Stiles doesn't either.

I'm also so glad that Scott doesn't trust Gerard as far as he can throw him (and he's a werewolf, so he can CHUCK that man if he wanted to), because he shouldn't, because he's a F*CKING PSYCHOPATHIC MANIPULATIVE *SSHOLE AND GOD I WISH HE WERE DEAD!!

...anyways.

I said it before, but I will say it again. I LOVE how that episode was done. The flashbacks transitioned into each other and back into the present so smoothly, but you were still easily able to tell which side of the story was being told. The parallels between the various storytelling was AWESOME. Peter and Gerard both telling their own versions of the Scorpion story in relation to their respective pasts, Peter and Gerard both being unreliable narrators and lying about the details and who was really at fault while we as the audience got to see what really happened, and Scott and Stiles listening to every word, but never fully trusting it for a second, because they're both too smart to take either of those individual's words at face value.

I am so here for it, and I absolutely LOVED watching that episode play out.

More than anything, I cannot WAIT to see how all of this new information plays into our ability to take on Deucalion and the Darach, because once our whole group comes together again, it's gonna be a wild ride.

Meanwhile, I'll attach a bad*ss Scott McCall gif because we LOVE this man and I almost want whatever plan they come up with to go wrong just so I can watch Scott go back and murder Gerard’s *ss, because he soooooo deserves it, and we all know that those eyes would stay perfectly yellow (or, in this case, red, I suppose) because Gerard is faaaar from innocent.

Anyways I loved that episode. <3

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maddy-ferguson · 1 year

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Tbh (I am not that anon, but I share similar opinions regarding this) I am kind of worried that most Bylers won't receive the storyline as better written or compelling in the next season if Byler doesn't happen in a certain way they're expecting or wanting it to happen (or if Mike's character doesn't end up as they imagined/wished him to be). Because I keep seeing all these takes that Mike being oblivious wouldn't fit for his character bc he's smart and he'd figure out the romance complexities as well, and he must have definitely lied and must be strictly gay 100% and his romance with El should be completely discredited, and he should get Vecna'd and exposed and he's a very secretive character and Byler should get together in an intense dramatic life threatening situation and I'm like... i get it, everyone has their own opinions and wants but aren't those opinions a little bit too specific? and that it's setting up a certain expectation here, and ultimately will lead to ppl saying it's bad/weak writing if none of those things happen in canon.

i feel like no matter what happens people (me included) will be disappointed because it's just like volume 2 we've just been thinking about it for too long lol. and i don't think mike should have all the romance complexities figured out just because he's smart but i do think him not knowing how HE feels makes no sense. in terms of the narrative and also just taking this into consideration

the vecna thing and them getting together in an intense dramatic life-threatening situation yeah that's a very specific thing to expect i don't think you should go into the season expecting anything that specific because that's very "will's painting is gonna be the swing set" and we all know how that turned out. but it's also all in good fun like everyone is obviously gonna get a lot of things wrong lol

about gay mike specifically, i totally get why you would worry about people being too sure about that and then not liking the way byler happens if he isn't but to me it kind of feels like when people tell us not to be so confident byler is gonna happen. like i just see it. i can't unsee it. and it's what makes the most narrative sense to me. but he could come out and say i'm 99.7% gay only and i'd still support him🙏

#and i mean. if people think mike is gay then them expecting his romance with el to be discredited is not exactly a stretch lol #otp: i guess it's not #again i am very much people in this case #and even thinking he lied knowingly is kind of a result of that #not strictly but it's just that it all works. by happenstance? i wouldn't know #and i didn't care about byler or mike being gay going into s4 right #there might be a bit of a gay mike echo chamber but the reason a lot of people think he's gay and also happen to be 100% sure that he is #is because it makes it all make perfect sense #like bro i saw one post that started with the words 'mike isn't bi guys he's straight up gay in denial' in early june (everyone would #hate them for wording it like that now lol. which i kind of get. it's just funny) and suddenly everything made sense and it still makes #sense it just WORKS i can't just let go of that!!! sorry.#i've tried it and i failed #if you don't feel the same way i get why you'd feel like that though. you sent this to the wrong person maybe. because i do feel kind of #strongly about mike being gay and about him knowing it and about him knowing that he lied in the monologue lol #but if i turn out to be wrong then so be it yk i won't LIE and say i won't find it less compelling. but i can't brainwash myself into no #longer thinking that</3 #because i just see it all so very clearly...#ask

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muness · 2 years

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wilted flowers - chapter three (peter ballard story)

a/n: holy fuck, i haven’t been online for a looong time. i guess i was letting you breathe after stranger things part two!

summary; eddie is finally safe in amelia’s arms. but the girl is pretty convinced on who’s the murderer of chrissy. broken limbs, eyes pulled from inside, all of this sound pretty much like peter. the lovely and sweet orderly himself.

pairing; peter ballard x oc warnings; none! words count; 1,0K

------------------------ Sweet sweet souvenir

someday in hawkins lab, the memory of a little girl. I can perceive the light below the reinforced door but i know he will come and wake me up, so i wait patiently. as expected. the door opens on a lovely orderly, checking if i'm awake. he walks to me and softly shakes my shoulder as i growl. today, i really don't want to get up and leave my bed, even if this one is not very comfortable. the man in front of me chuckles when he hears my sound. he's used to my little morning comedy, as our routine has been going on for the past few years. he kneels to my head's level and moves the covers off of my eyes.

"-Wake up sleepyhead, you know you can't stay here, even if you want to. I would gladly let you sleep off the day, but your Papa won't be so happy about it."

I frown my eyebrows and pulls the covers down completely.

"-Hello Peter, sorry... -I don't mind, but be careful sleepyhead, Papa will search for you if you don't get quickly to the Rainbow Room." I nod and walks to the corridor, as Peter follows me. He's my angel guardian out here, i don't know how i would be if he wasn't here in the first place. maybe i would be Papa's perfect puppet, trusting every word, even the trickiest. but Peter always learned me that Papa doesn't always tell the truth, sometimes he lies. and lies are bad, very bad. bad people tell lies, good people doesn't. Peter told me that, and i trust Peter.

Everyone trusts Peter, he's the best orderly out here, he's so nice with us. i wish i could be as kind with others as him when i grow up. and he's pretty too. one day, I made a drawing of us and I portrayed him as an angel. because that's what he is, he's the vision of an angel i will always have. i look at him behind me, shyly smile and walk faster to the Rainbow Room, where all the other children are.

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

my vision is a bit blurry, as my memories bring him up again. everything in my mind turns to him when i shouldn't. maybe because little me, hurt and alone, would always forgive him, whatever it takes from me. because in my heart and in my head, i will always look up at him. i'm pretty sure Eddie realizes that my mind is somewhere else because he slowly shakes my head, trying to squeeze a reaction out of me. and it works because i jump and look at him.

"-Ame, are you really okay?"

Ame. this is the surname he gave me when i told him my name for the first time. he told me it was easier that way, but when i tried to call him Ed, he slapped my head with his guitar. I mean, gently slapped it, he didn't want to hurt his sweetheart. when I say sweetheart, i mean his perfect, fabulous and talented guitar.

Ame means soul in french. i know it because Papa used to make us learn a lot of languages, and i'm also really smart. again, i'm not throwing myself flowers. i used to think i didn't have any soul, because of my powers. i'm an unnatural creation and i got used to it eventually. but Eddie came into my life and it has been his duty to make this thought disappear from my mind. I don't think he will ever succeed.

"-Ame? -Yes. Sorry, I'm just very worried about the situation, I really don't want you to go to jail for something you didn't do." I lied. "-Don't worry stupid girl, I will never. I will outsmart them. I take my examples from the best."

He winked with a big silly smile on his face, making me giggle and relax a little bit. He always says I'm the smartest person he ever met, not that i doubt that for any matter.The group decided to go find some food for Eddie, so I decided to stay with him, i can't let my best friend out here, all alone and scared. he tries to hide it but he is frighten. even if all this world isn't new to him, i didn't want him to witness it by himself. i didn't want him to witness anything, actually.

"-I'm so sorry, Eddie. For bringing you into this world. My world, and everything that follows. Chrissy, the girl... You seemed to care about her. I remember, you told me that she asked you to sell her drugs, and that it didn't seem like something girls like her would buy from a freak like you. I should have go with you both. Maybe I could have... -Use your powers ? What if it would have bring attention on you instead of her? Of course I cared for her, she was very kind and lovely. Chrissy was a good person. But I would let anyone die, if it let me save you. I'm nothing without you."

Tears slowly fill my eyes, but i can't let him see my emotions. "-Even your sweetheart?" I joke. He giggles and softly hit my arm. "-Yes, even my guitar Ame. Don't let your ego grow on you though, I will if it's an emergency case."

We laugh for a bit and look at eachother's eyes. i seriously don't know what i would do without this idiot in my life.

suddently, as the door slams, Eddie's first reflex is to put his arm in front of me, to protect me from the foreign people. I look up at him with my eyes wide open, i guess he isn't kidding when he says he's ready to let anyone die for me. even himself. i'm not the one searched by the police here.

But fortunately, it's only the group, coming back from their little excursion for food. Steve waves at us with a big smile and Eddie let out a big sigh of relief.

"Delivery service!"

#Peter Ballard #peter ballard imagine #Peter Ballard x reader #peter stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things boys #stranger things fanfiction #Stranger Things Spoilers #001 stranger things #stranger things season 4 #ST4 #st

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chaosncabbages · 2 years

Text

Lucifer Tricks a Crypto Bro into Going to Hell (yay)

"I want a Lamborghini."

The voice in my head sighed. "You'll have all the Lamborghinis you could ever imagine, Alex. Once you perform the ritual."

I smirked. He really thought he was smart, that he could trick me so easily. Clearly, he didn't have a head for business. "Nope! You've got to prove you can follow through. That's just how the world works. It's how Bezos, Zuckerburg, and Musk got rich."

"I'm trapped, Alex. If I could use my power I wouldn't be making this deal with you." I was clearly wearing him down, the voice was starting to sound tired.

Of course, he was still holding back on me. The Father of Lies wouldn’t put everything on the table. "Oh? You don't have any fumes you could use to sweeten the deal?"

"It took me thousands of years to even be able to talk to you. And you are the only one who can help me. The only one attuned to the truth of the world. Please. You know enough of my story to know it hurts to beg."

I certainly did. While I'd never be dumb enough to believe it, I'd read the bible to get material for the men's only stand up nights I was getting off the ground. Of course, if it were all real it would make sense that Lucifer would come to me for help. And I certainly liked the feeling of the Lord of Hell prostrating himself before me.

“Why are you even locked up? Aren’t you meant to be running the whole place?”

“Circumstances have been… unkind to me.”

Of course they had. “A rebellion, then. You should really keep a tighter grip on people, man. You know in How to Make Friends and Influence People, Dale Carnegie says that the best way to get someone talking is to ask them about themselves. Maybe if you’d been more interested in people they wouldn’t have trapped you.” And then you could use that information against them. Of course, not everyone was smart enough to realise that.

“I-” Lucifer cut himself short. The silence hung in the air for a moment before he continued. “Well then, Alex, why don’t you tell me about yourself?”

I laughed. What was the harm? He clearly didn’t know how to use the knowledge, so I launched into my story. I was born into a modest household, one where we could only afford two trips overseas a year, one during summer and one during spring. Of course, we also had the yearly ski trips, but that was cheaper as we already had our ski gear and a family lodge on the mountain.

The teachers had always hated me at school, marking me more harshly than the other boys simply because I wasn’t afraid to correct them on things. That was okay, though, I’d gotten out of there as soon as I could to become an entrepreneur. I was the creator of an online course about dropshipping, on haggling down the people you bought from and putting the competition out of business. It’d gotten some traction online, with some dumb YouTubers getting their panties in a twist about it.

Lucifer let me explain the strategy to him. He was probably taking notes, though I felt a little bad I wasn’t giving him the real tips. Had to keep those secrets for me. Finally, I wrapped up my impromptu speech, grinning broadly at where I assumed Satan would be standing, were he not chained in the depths of Hell.

“Well.” he said, sounding as though the onslaught of wisdom had left him even more tired, almost as though he were gritting his teeth. “You certainly have a head for business, Alex. I know of demons with a looser grasp of contract law. And speaking of, should we get down to exactly what you’ll get in this deal of ours?”

“Of course.” I declared magnanimously.

“As I mentioned earlier, I am trapped here, at the centre of Hell, deep in the Ninth Circle. However, the chains are built to restrain my power, and my power only. If I could bestow said power onto another, then I would be free to slip from my restraints. But that requires finding someone both worthy to be my heir and able to hold my power. That man is you, Alex. None before have had the ambition, nor the potential, to hold the power of Lucifer, once first amongst God’s angels.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” He must have thought I was dumb. “That you would really give up your power that easily? You must have a plan to get it back.”

“Alex, I… look. I can’t expect you to believe me easily. I’m the Father of Lies, for damnation’s sake. But you need to understand. The angel that fell from heaven? In a prideful, recalcitrant rebellion? He’s gone. Long gone. I have been entombed in ice and chains since humanity was a twinkle in the incalculable eyes of the divine. All I want is to be warm. My body will not age, it will not die. I don’t need power, Alex, I need freedom. Take my power, please. You’re my only hope.”

I snorted “So you’re too weak to withstand a little cold? Maybe your power isn’t that great after all.” Classic business play. Get them to undervalue their own product so you could buy it for less. That one had been too juicy to put in the course.

“Perhaps not. Is there any way I could convince you?”

If Lucifer had been there, he would’ve seen a shark-like grin stretch across my face. “I don’t just want your power. I want a direct download of all the knowledge of how to use it.” I’d guessed his ploy. Sure, I had the potential and the temperament, but without knowledge on how to keep it it’d probably slip back into Lucifer’s grasp as soon as he was free. Knowledge is power, after all.

Lucifer was silent for a long moment, probably trying to work out some loophole in my ironclad offer. Grudgingly, he finally relented. “Very well, Alex. You drive a hard bargain. Truly, you are worthy of my power.”

“Pleasure doing business with you. Now what do I need?”

“Five candles, a way to light them, a box of white chalk, a room large enough to lie on the floor, and the largest ruler you can find.”

}-::-{

I lay on the floor of my apartment’s spare room, right in the centre of a pentagram. My head and each of my limbs lay in the gaps between the star’s points. On each of those points was a single lit pillar candle.

“So now what?”

“Now, you have to open yourself to me. Let your mind wander down the connection we have, Alex. Feel the power that will soon be yours.”

My breathing deepened as I probed the mental bridge to the Lord of Hell. The room grew brighter, flames burning higher and higher until they were taller than the candles they sat on. I set a mental foot on the connection, and the flame jumped from the candles to the chalk on the ground, impossibly immolating the lines on the wooden floor. I wasn’t sure if it was the flames around me, or my mind’s journey through the pits of Hell, but the room grew warmer and warmer, sweat beading on my brow.

Flashes of hellish vistas flickered through my mind with each step, of a field of crucified people and the writhing masses of insects that feasted upon them, of a great city teeming with demons, of a forest of damned souls growing out from the hearts of thorn trees, harpies tearing at what skin hadn’t given way to wood. The candles burned ever fiercer, and yet the heat lay low. A cold that seeped deeper than skin, deeper than flesh, deeper even than bone, to the farthest reaches of my mind and soul heralded the final vision.

A glacial plain stretching out as far as the eye could see. No wailing screams to break the silence, only the dull hum of billions of chattering teeth. In the centre sat a massive figure, frozen in the ice from the waist down. Great leatherous wings stretched from his back, chains dripping from his sallow and emaciated body. He had three faces, one that once would have been considered handsome, before his unending torture had twisted it into scorn, one flayed of its skin, blood dripping from his chin and freezing as it fell, hitting a few damned who had been frozen beneath, and one with nothing left but bone. In each mouth lay a figure being chewed, healing between each stroke of the chained being’s jaws.

The unflayed face’s eyes shifted to look at me. “I’m quite a sight, aren’t I?”

“That’s you?” I breathed, barely able to comprehend what I was seeing.

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m hardly at my best. But yes. Do you see now why I was so desperate?”

My feet carried me forward with barely a thought to direct them. There was nothing to walk on, and yet as though a great invisible path carried me to the heads of the Morningstar, I walked ever forward.

“Place your hand on my head. Allow the power to fill you.” There was a pleading urgency to his voice.

Lucifer’s skin was burning hot, though that may only have been in contrast to the impossible cold of the heart of Hell. Simmering below the surface was a feeling like I’d never imagined, like the desert sun beating down on a snow-clad peak. Strong enough to burn, yet alien enough to blacken your fingers. An incomprehensible reserve of power, just barely chained.

It was all going to be mine.

I plunged deep inside, swimming into the well of infernal magic. It began to shrink as I did, pouring into me. I could feel it. The pride of heaven, the rebellion of hell. The heat of power, and the cold weight of chains.

The cold weight of Lucifer’s chains. That I could almost feel wrapping around me, instead of the Morningstar.

Lucifer chuckled, and my heart grew cold with fear. I’d been tricked. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” I screamed. “YOU’LL BE TRAPPED HERE TOO!”

He laughed louder. “Now where did you get that idea?” His voice was silken, bereft of the tiredness he’d been showing earlier. “It’s a simple trade. Someone has to fill the chains. Why not a sickening little insect?”

“This wasn’t the deal.” I hissed. The power was still draining, though it was clear to me now that it was trickling away from the chains, not into me.

“You made a deal with the Father of Lies and expected him to keep it? Oh, my pathetic little pest, I am no paltry demon. I have no need of your soul, you were simply able to help and enough of a sucker to take the bait.”

“You would do terribly in business.” You only go back on deals with people too poor or weak to fight back. That one had been obvious enough to go in the course.

This time, Lucifer cackled maniacally. “Oh you are an entertaining speck, aren’t you? Almost a shame to leave you to the worst Hell has to offer. I wonder if they’ll take your face all the way to the bone, or just flay it? They have less options than they did with me.”

The power drained further, and I realised I was able to see again. Walls of crystal clear ice glittered around me, ancient damned souls staring from the depths, long since entombed in the ice of Hell. As I stared up at the starless sky, three things occurred to me. One, as evidenced by a foot-shaped cave in front of me, I must be inside the hole left by one of Lucifer’s legs. Two, that Lucifer had left his chains behind in his escape. And three, that the lack of stars in the sky may be due to the miles of chains currently falling towards me.

A final chuckle slipped through the fading bridge to Lucifer. “Better start running.” Were his singsong final words before the connection fully slipped away.

I broke into a sprint, scrambling for the edge of the cave, for any chance at safety. Perhaps it was the panic, perhaps Hell itself just tries to make things unpleasant for its prisoners, but my foot slipped out behind me. As the last dregs of power slipped from me and my body skidded across the floor, a chain link the size of a school bus crashed into the ground, slowed only by my leg as it ground everything below my knee to a paste. I watched, helpless, as link after link piled on top of each other, each one sending a jolt of pain up my mangled leg.

Eventually, the sound of the falling chain ceased, and all that was left were my own screams and the memory of the final chuckle of the angel who had left me to die.

Or perhaps, even worse, to never be afforded such a reprieve.

#short story #crypto bro #lucifer #dante's inferno #I haven't done that much in writing an unlikable protagonist #it's a nice change #fuck this guy honestly

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