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evanpeterssource · 3 years

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Evan Peters and Billie Lourd Discuss the Art of Dying Onscreen

BILLIE LOURD: Let me set the scene for you: I’m sitting outside my house in my never-washed car, because that’s the only silent place in my home, and it’s not even in my home. I have a wireless breast pump with me, so if you hear a weird sound, that’s what that is.

PETERS: I’m in my bedroom, currently in my PJs. I worked a night shoot last night and am doing a night shoot again tonight. So, I’m drinking coffee and trying to wake up and get back into it.\

LOURD: I know how that goes. My hands are on my temples for you. Okay, Ev, I’m fucking obsessed with Mare of Easttown. I do not watch any shows because if I ever have free time, it’s usually spent napping or just lying in a silent room. But I failed all my nap times with watching this show. You’re a fucking genius.

PETERS: Thanks Billie. I appreciate it.

LOURD: Tell me the story of how it all came to be.

PETERS: They sent me the script and it said that Kate Winslet was going to be the lead, and that it was an HBO crime drama. So I was like, dude, I’ve got to really work on this one. I did the self-tape thing, so it was super awkward and weird.

LOURD: It was a self-tape? Wow.

PETERS: Yeah, I sent that in, and then the director and writer and showrunner were like, “You want to have some lunch?” And I was like, “They’re going to tell me to redo the tape, I know it.” And then they offered me the part, thankfully.

LOURD: That’s when you know you’re a really good actor, is when you get a part off a self-tape. I’ve never done that.

PETERS: Oh come on, you’re a great actress. You can do that single-tear thing.

LOURD: I do have a single-tear thing!

PETERS: That’s incredibly hard to do.

LOURD: Only when there’s a promise of bratwurst at Krafty’s will I do a single tear. What was the scene that you had to tape?

PETERS: The earlier scenes, where I’m coming in and meeting Mare and she just does not want me there at all.

LOURD: I was going to say, if you had to do that drunk scene, or the breakdown scene, that would be a nightmare. Did you know you were going to die? How did that make you feel? I’m a therapist now.

PETERS: It was a little stressful trying to navigate that. You had a finite amount of time to cram in all this stuff. Because you knew how it was going to go, and you wanted it to have an interesting arc, but… poor Zabes.

LOURD: Dude, it was fucking devastating. Zabel is so sweet, and you’re like, “No, he was on such a fucking upswing!” You’ve gotten shot in the head a couple of times now, which is pretty rare for an actor.

PETERS: Yeah, he’s got to work on that quick draw. But it was a cool scene to shoot. We kind of stretched out time and it was like The Good, the Bad and the Ugly, where it was a stare-down, and you’re like, “God, this feels like a really long time to be staring at people.” But Craig, the director, was like, “We’ll edit it. It’ll look good.” And nowadays, everything’s CGI, so back in the day they probably would have used blanks to help with that, but it was just a click. Or the other actor going, “Bang!” and all of a sudden you would have to get shot in the head. And you’re like, “What are we, 12, playing with guns?” It was such an awesome set that they built. They found this property that was like an abandoned bar, with a house on the back. And then set dressing came in and made it that amazing, creepy, disheveled, messed-up house that it was. So it was really cool to be in there and feel like, “Oh my God, we got the guy.”

LOURD: It’s amazing to watch you piece it together and look at each other and hear the pipe banging. It’s so suspenseful. We’ve got to talk about Kate. Can I call her Kate? Should I call her Kate Winslet? She’s so fucking magical. What was that like working with her.

PETERS: I was pretty terrified and nervous and stressed out before meeting her. I’m such a huge fan, and she’s one of the best actresses of all time. But she was so warm and down-to-earth and immediately disarming. What’s really cool is that she’s very collaborative. I thought she was going to be like, “Nope, I’m right. You’re all wrong.” You know, because she’s brilliant. But she was very open to new ideas and exploring things. I found that really reassuring, and surprising, since she’s set at such a high caliber.

LOURD: That’s so cool to hear. I feel like every actor’s dream is to get to work with her. Did you stay in your accents all the time? I always wonder that when people do accents.

PETERS: I was in it the whole time. I’m not good enough of an actor to be able to pop in and out of it. Somebody on set said there are different levels. There’s the learning it, there’s the “I have to stay in it,” and then there’s, “I’m so good that I can pop in and out of it.” Kate was that. She was incredibly English throughout the whole thing. Like [in British accent], “Oh, hi, Zabes. How are you doing babes? You good? Everything good? Okay, great.” And then she’d be like [in Philadelphia accent], “Let’s go get a hoagie. Let’s go down to the shore and check out the store.” I was just like, oh my god. How do you do that?

LOURD: That is so trippy. I don’t think I could do that.

PETERS: No, I could not do that. She’s really impressive that way.

LOURD: What was your favorite scene to do with Kate? I have to stop calling her that. Lady Winslet?

PETERS: There were so many. The bar scene was pretty awesome because it was so improvised.

LOURD: Oh, really?

PETERS: Yeah, it was just kind of fun to be at a bar with Lady Winslet.

LOURD: That’s my dream.

PETERS: But there was another scene that I really liked too: When I first got in the car, and I’m like, “Hey, are we carpooling?” And she’s like, “Ugh, this fucking guy.” And then I get in the car and she slams on the gas and I almost smoke my head. I thought that was really fun because it was one of the earlier scenes that we shot, and it set the tone for how much Mare was annoyed at Zabel being there.

LOURD: How did you do the bar scene? Are you allowed to get drunk?

PETERS: No, you can’t get drunk unfortunately. But I would say I’ve done a ton of research over the years. You know, at a couple of your birthday parties.

LOURD: Would you rather do a death scene or a killing scene?

PETERS: Oh, that’s a hard question. It really depends on how you’re killing or dying. Dying is such a challenge, as an actor.

LOURD: I don’t like dying.

PETERS: It’s so hard. It’s like, how do you do it? And does this look believable? Can they see me breathing? It really depends on how you’re getting killed as well. There’s so many questions and so many ifs.

LOURD: Killing me in American Horror Story was such a laugh. I hope they put in parentheses, “She said sarcastically.”

PETERS: Yeah, that was a pretty horrific day.

LOURD: That was a rough one. I’ve watched it back and I can definitely see myself breathing. And the eyes are so hard, like to actually keep your eyes open. I feel like I’ve made the decision to close my eyes. Do you do open-eye or closed-eye deaths?

PETERS: I like to do a little halfsies—a little open, a little closed.

LOURD: I like it. Split the difference. Have you been on the streets since Zabel died? Do people come up and hug you and thank god that you’re actually alive?

PETERS: No. I’ve gotten some text messages that were like, “Sorry, man. You’ve got to work on that quick-draw.” I’m super stoked that people like the show.

LOURD: It’s one of those shows that’s now part of the zeitgeist. Even my baby loves it. How long did it take to shoot?

PETERS: Gosh, we started in October 2019, and then I was supposed to be done at the beginning of March 2020. I had about two or three weeks left. Then the pandemic hit and they punted it to September. I was like, “Oh man, I’ve got to keep learning this accent for six months.”

LOURD: And not eat all the double doubles in sight. You had to keep that accent and keep that bod.

PETERS: Yeah, it was a challenge.

LOURD: What do you think would have happened with Mare and Zabel if Zabel didn’t die? It’s a real thinker.

PETERS: Ooh, that is a real thinker. I think they would have gone on a few more dates and then Mare probably would’ve realized that Zabel’s not the one. Zabel would have been devastated again.

LOURD: I think they could have had a shotgun wedding in Vegas and lived happily ever after. It could have been great.

PETERS: I like that for Zabel. That sounds good.

LOURD: Do you think you would have moved to Easttown or would he have gone back?

PETERS: I think he definitely would have had to move out of his mom’s place. For sure that would have been step number one.

LOURD: Were you sad when he died or did you think that this was the perfect ending for him?

PETERS: I thought it was an interesting ending to the character. He kind of came in, and then it was so shocking, but that’s the way death is in real life. You’re never really expecting it, and then it happens.

LOURD: It’s amazing you got to know the whole arc of the character before you played him.

PETERS: Yeah, it’s rare to get all the episodes beforehand. You make a choice in episode two and then you get to episode seven and you’re like, “Oh wait, that was totally wrong, what I did in episode two… Can we go back and reshoot that?” And they’re like, “No.”

LOURD: Did knowing the ending affect how you played him? He was so lovable anyway, but did knowing he was going to die make you play him even more lovably, if that’s a word?

PETERS: Yeah, that did play into it. There was talk about making him a little bit more arrogant and cocky. But I thought, when he dies, it’d be more tragic if he wasn’t that. So we tried to make him a little bit bumbling and not as good of a detective and really trying. We wanted it to be as shocking and sad as we could.

LOURD: Did you do any actor-y stuff? Like, a cologne you wore? Or did you wear a special hat?

PETERS: That’s so funny. I wish I wore a special hat to work every day , like an old-school 1940s detective hat. I did always have my coffee mug. There was a little bit of a Zabel-mug thing going on. And there were rituals. I would write in the mornings and try to get into it, stuff like that. But god, I wish I wore a hat.

LOURD: We should incorporate that into our future careers, to make sure we have a hat for every role we play. And then you could have a case at your house of all the hats you wore.

PETERS: That’s so goddamn funny.

LOURD: People are going to be like, “Billie Lourd is a psychopath.”

PETERS: Oh, you know what I did do? I wore a cross. You can’t see it, but when he died, I wanted you to see the cross on his neck. He’s got this weird thing with religion where he was raised religious, but then being in the line of work that he’s in and seeing all this death and awfulness, you start to question that. And then his mom is very religious. So I wanted him to be, underneath it all, a little bit religious and hopeful and needing the protection of god when he went out into the field.

LOURD: That’s way better than a hat.

#evan peters #billie lourd #interview #mare of easttown spoilers #txt #ours #extraordinaryxmen

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

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Of Monsters and Men

Chapter 11- At Last

Summary: Finally reunited with Geralt, the two of you attempt to avoid Nilfgaard and find a tavern for the evening, although it appears destiny has other plans.

Warning: angst, fluff

Masterlist

-last and final chapter my Witcher friends, that is until next season, and yes I will be continuing reader and Geralt’s story. There’ll be more monster slaying and adventures to come!

Within minutes after reuniting with your silver haired lover, did the two of you immediately find a spot elsewhere from the main trail for well...you know. A place hidden away from any unwanted prying eyes so that you both could show one another just how much you've desperately missed each other, in more ways then one. You couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so euphoric, perhaps that's just what making sweet love to your Witcher does to you. Even when he's pounding you against a tree while whispering the most dirtiest of sweet nothings into your ear.

You hadn't touched him like this in weeks, nor seen him for that matter, but he felt wonderful and seemed to be enjoying his time with you just the same. Though all too soon would your bodies have to part from one another's close embrace. All to your utter disappointment did the two of you end your hasty love making session, seeing as the land is closely crawling with Nilfgaard soldiers and who knows what else.

You got what you could get, and anyways, that won't be the first nor last time you two fuck in the woods.

The grass feels soft against your clothed bottom as you lace up your boot, your gaze set to the individual across from you as your eyes unbashfuly admire Geralt while he lays in the grass shirtless. His beautiful golden irises staring up into the tree tops as the wind sways the leaves every which way.

You pull at the leather strings, tying a confident knot with skilled hands while a small breeze blows your hair back, you're admittedly feeling quite delightful if you're being honest. Though when your crimson eyes glance up at the snowy haired man again, he's turned his head to you.

Your eyes meet at once, sending a blissful smirk upon your lips, "Anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" You teased, narrowing your eyes in a playful manner.

Geralt's lips curl into a half smile as he lets out a small hum in reply. Setting your arms upon your propped up knees, you freely show him an eye roll. Earning a proper chuckle from the man, "Y/N I was simply cherishing your stunning appearance."

Shaking your head you smile, "Yes, of course you were. And I am simply looking at a shirtless man with the most utter respect and clean of thoughts in my mind." You casually shrug, "Nothing else going on in here, I promise."

Geralt raises a greyish brow, moving to prop himself up upon his elbow, "That sounds honest." He hums, "But you are no virtuous maiden my love, and by that telling look on your face only moments ago. I can only imagine what things you may have been thinking of then."

You let out a snort before deciding to crawl over to him, where he lets you push him back into the grass, "Indeed I am not." You whisper close, leaning on an elbow as your other hand caresses his cheek, "But I am undoubtedly in love with a Witcher of all creatures to walk this earth, so if we're using our heads, what does that truly say of me then?"

His golden eyes keep to yours as he brings a hand to rest over your arm, "I would say it means perhaps I am a fool to fall for one of my enemies' creations, my dear Y/N..." He pauses for a moment, taking this brief second to focus on you and only you as he holds you with the most care, "you are most cunning and beautiful."

Leaning into his small touch you grin blissfully, a feeling of ease and calmness setting over you as Geralt studies your face, "You are no fool my White Wolf. That I am sure of without a doubt in my mind, I can't seem to be able to even jest about it." You chuckle, "Though you tempt me at times." The smile that he gives you is the most precious thing your eyes could ever be blessed with, its warm and genuine, filled with the deepest and most purest of love for you. His lady of night, the one monster he could never slay, nor would he ever dare.

Though your heart fills with joy for him, a sudden sadness seeps into your soul, obstructing your happiness. Your eyes fall downcast as you move to lay yourself next to Geralt in the grass, he follows you closely, a frown displaying itself upon his handsome features at your sudden spurt of melancholy.

"What troubles you Y/N?" Wonders Geralt, shifting his body so that he can rest an arm over your chest, pulling you in close as he studies your face.

Resting a hand on Geralt's muscular arm, you frown once again, "I was brief about my short time in Aretuza and the Elven keep, I know I told you about all those bastard soldiers I killed and when I helped the mages the best I could.....it's just. I haven't told you everything." Your voice feels so small in the large forest, now since you think about it. You haven't had the time to completely process what happened at Sodden's Hill, with all those soldiers, the other mages, and especially Yennefer.

So much death.

His brow furrows in thought, unsure of what you're going to reveal next, all he knows is that he doesn't plan on letting you go for awhile longer. Your Witcher hums in reply, giving you a moment to find your words. Taking a deep heavy sigh you turn your head to look out at the clouds. "We tried to protect the North from Nilfgaard, those fuckers had their own spout of powerful mages to test against our own. For the whole day we all fought together...every man, woman, child, and mage. Fucking farmers and tired refugees, they weren't warriors, Geralt. None of them were."

You take another shaky breath as Geralt presses his head against your cheek, "I did what I could to save them. But I'm just one person, I couldn't save them all....though I must admit, those people fought braver then most royal soldiers I've ever seen. They have good heart in them....well, I guess did. Not many survivors I think, just the ones who had enough sense to get the fuck out of there.....and of course myself, Tissaia, Triss, and Yenn..." A small lump forms in your throat as you remember what happened, causing you to choke on your own words for a moment.

You bite your lip hard, your hand squeezing tightly onto Geralt's muscular forearm as you collect yourself enough to speak, though your voice is raspy and broken, "Yennefer, right. She fought valiantly like a true warrior, she was like a phoenix, like a raging mighty dragon of power and flame...Geralt you should have seen her." A tear falls down the side of your face as you smile into the cloud covered sun, your voice above a whisper, "I'd never seen anything like it....it was.....beautiful."

A light kiss is placed gently over your tear streak while his hand moves to find yours, "What I would have given to see you slay those dogs alongside Yennefer, Y/N. I'm sure she is proud to call you a friend."

"She's dead." Those two words leave your lips so quietly that Geralt almost doesn't catch them, but he does.

The heavy weight of this news takes him off guard, he did not expect you to just lay such tragic tidings over him like that, he may have been greatly annoyed by Yennefer but he did see that stubborn mage as a friend. Though his heart hurts for how broken and defeated you feel from the terrors you'd underwent only yesterday, the great loss you've experienced, all of your traumas crashing down atop your soul in this moment. He wants to comfort you the best he can.

He listens to the steady beating of your heart, understanding how sad yet angry you're feeling, "I'm sorry Y/N. Truly I am."

A tired smile forms at the corners of your lips as you turn teary eyes over to your Witcher, your faces mere inches from one another, "She was my first real friend you know, and I think I was hers. I'm grateful to have spent the last of her hours on this earth by her side then.....glad she wasn't alone. I just wish..." Swallowing the lump in your throat, you focus on Geralt's shimmering irises once again, "I just wish the world wouldn't take everyone I give a shit about, so don't plan on doing anything stupid, okay? I can't lose anyone else or so help me god or whoever is listening out there, I will slaughter the bastards who dare take you away from me."

"I do not doubt it my love, and don't worry Y/N. I don't plan on leaving you anytime soon." He speaks honestly before pressing a soft kiss against your lips, "You have my word."

——

Geralt holds tightly to Roach's leather reigns as he keeps a firm hand over your lower abdomen, a small content smile gracing over your features while you sit comfortably in front of him on the large mare. Just as you always have.

Your hands rest over his as you keep a steady lookout over the trail ahead, silently overjoyed to be leaning against Geralt and all of his godly body holding you up. A blissfully drunken grin keeps to your face while your mind tumbles and reels with everything that he's just confided about from the last four weeks, like what you'd done earlier after a fine quick session of love making.

Apparently he's been busy.

Though for the second time today, another troubling thought randomly pops into your mind as things tend to do, and now you feel this time is as good as ever to actually address it. Squeezing his arm a bit you let out a half amused huff, showing that you're about to speak your mind on something idiotic Geralt has done, and he knows it.

Your Witcher figured you'd eventually spill your two cents, as you always seem to do.

"So." You begin, slow and filled with something Geralt's not quite sure of, he mentally cringes as you squeeze his arm again, "you just told him to fuck off and that you'd prefer to never see him ever again? Just like that? To our bard. Jaskier."

Geralt pauses for a moment as you wait for an answer, "Yes." Is all he whispers, low and filled with regret. He told you all about Jaskier and himself hours ago, hoping you wouldn't bring it back up, but of course you would. He's never that lucky, there's nothing you don't ever catch.

You raise a brow and shrug, "Can't say I blame you. That idiot has gotten our asses in a lot of shit over the years." He lets out a breath, glad you're not fuming at his heated rash actions on the mountainside after you dramatically parted ways. Suddenly you grip his arm tight, enough to actually feel uncomfortable, he sucks in a breath as you squeeze, "Although, I don't believe Jaskier completely deserved that." You seethe through clenched teeth before letting go of your iron grip. So you are angry after all, thinks Geralt, funny way of showing it.

"I know....I was just....I'm sorry Y/N." He replies, his voice much softer then he'd intended.

Your face falls as you feel the hurt in his words for what he's done, "I know Geralt." You sigh, "Enough with the sorry's and regrets okay....what's done is done and there's nothing we can do about it now. And anyways, as I like to say "we'll cross that bridge when we get there" so don't feel shitty about it now." He gives you a hidden smile as you chuckle to yourself, "You can feel shitty about it later."

Geralt lets out an amused snort, "Always one for wise words Y/N. What would I do without your kind intellect?"

"Dunno." You casually shrug, "Be a far less intriguing creature I suppose."

He tenderly kisses the top of your head, "I'd be a fool to argue against that logic."

"You're still a fool either way." You jest, cackling at your friendly jab at him, earning a gentle squeeze on your hip that sends butterflies into your stomach.

Gods the things he does to you.

For a couple more hours would you both ride Roach down the trail, past countless trees and a few streams until the sun would begin her descent over the land. Through this time you've been admittedly back to your old habits of amusing your Witcher to pass the time, mixed with seeing how long it would take to annoy him before he threatened to kick you off the mare.

It had been quite the eventful stretch of time before you caught the nasty pheromones of war seeping throughout the forest from some place close by, but not seen by your skilled eyes just yet. You held your tongue, not wanting to worry Geralt over something as insignificant as rotting corpses in the woods. But as Roach gets closer and closer, you begin to feel more strange, your scarlet irises suddenly catch a ripped tent behind a few trees.

Nilfgaard. Smell of death, more destroyed tents. Those bastards did this.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, the scent of freshly decaying corpses overloading your senses just about making your eyes water, you can't smell anything else but the stench of death.

"What I would give to be in a flower meadow right now." You seethe, blinking away the reactive tears in your eyes, Geralt looks down to you, unsure of what you mean considering his sense of smell is not nearly as prominent as yours. "I think Nilfgaard found a camp just over there, gods it reaks."

His grey brows furrow in thought, though he's left his words in the back of his throat as Roach walks closer to the carnage. Suddenly the three of you are face to face with an older man and his horse cart as he desperately and stupidly does his best to move the dead in piles for whatever it is that he's intended for them.

What a strange man.

Geralt shifts from behind you, tilting his head at the bearded man, "Ill winds follow grave robbers." States your Witcher as he hugs you closer protectively, or perhaps to keep you from doing anything destructive. The greyed man looks to the two of you, quietly acknowledging your existence before turning around to continue his doings.

"If I was a grave robber, I'd be taking their belongings, Butcher." He adds gruffly, squatting down to examine another slain body, "So best keep your beast with you." He adds, side eyeing you cautiously as he goes to move another of the deceased. Well, he knows Geralt's a Witcher and that you're not human. Maybe he's not that idiotic?

Geralt smirks, "If I was to let her satiate her appetite, you'd be amongst the corpses." The man falls silent, looking wearily between the two of you as your scarlet eyes trail over the nervous man.

He lets out a sigh, finally breaking under both your hard gazes, "I was goin' home to my family when I came upon these poor souls." He points towards the rotting bodies, "Cintran refugees. Dead at least a week. Now they're a feast for the crows."

"They're not for crows." You implore, shifting your ruby irises across the shadowy wood line while you listen to the buzzing of feasting flies. You had previously forgotten about what else may lurk in the shadows ready to feed, until now.

"Wolves?" He wonders.

"No."

Shaking his head, he ignores your odd wary vigilance, turning to glance at the two of you, "With more hands I could move quicker."

Yeah, fuck that.

"The only thing you should do quickly is flee." Warns Geralt, alert to the same understanding of what creatures may be hiding close by. The strange man grunts as he drags a body over the leaves, ignorantly discounting both your warnings.

With a click of his tongue, Geralt pulls at the mares reigns, "Come on, Roach, back to Kaer Morhen." You shake your head at the man as Roach begins to take a couple steps forward.

"Don't leave!" Pleads the bearded man, while dragging another, "Look at these people. Innocent people, killed for what?" He exclaims, sucking in labored breaths as he stands to look out over the mass of dead refugees, "So Nilfgaard can have more land? We owe it to 'em to do better."

"I'm not better." Mutters Geralt as he directs Roach away.

Always so dramatic huh.

You don't make it even three feet before your sensitive ears prick at the sound of crawling under the dirt. You know exactly what's now hunting the man, without a second thought do you break from Geralt's muscular arms to jump off of Roach.

Your feet move inhumanly fast as you race for the panicked man who's now scrambling away on the forest floor as two hungry ghouls claw for a taste. Realizing all too late that your silver dagger is lost to the ages you quickly adapt to instead aim for electrocuting the ugly fuckers.

Your palms spread wide as white hot lightening crackles and sparks in the misty night air, piercing the grotesque bodies of the living undead.

They screech in pain, giving Geralt just enough time to cut them down before they're able to recover, the man stops whimpering in fear as he turns his head up to you and Geralt. Who's now crouched a couple feet from the wide eyed man while he cleans off his sword, his eyes now two pools of glistening obsidian.

Sparks crackle in your palms as you huff in annoyance, "Go home." Your voice strong and steady.

The man snaps his attention over to you, "I can help." He insists urgently, causing you to roll your crimson eyes.

"One bite will kill you." Implores Geralt sternly.

The man turns to him, "Or you two." Then back to you again, his eyes fretful as you notice how he's just about shaking. He's terrified.

You let out a frustrated sigh, "I'm immune." You conclude gruffly, pointing to both himself and Geralt, "But not you two, so if you want to see your wife again...go home." The man stays still, breathing heavily as he sits on the soft ground, his mind swirling.

Geralt slowly stands, glaring at the man, "Go...home!" He snaps in that gravely voice of his, the petrified man stares at him before looking to your equally as stoic face. The blood red glow of your irises and the low crackling of lighting in your palm shifting his mind to a new understanding of his current situation.

He lets out a shaky breath, "All right..." Huffs the bearded man before scrambling to his feet, his boots carrying him over to his cart as he throws something into the back.

You ignore him and watch as Geralt walks slowly forward, his black eyes cautiously surveying over the land as you take a step, "Let me be the first to say, but I don't happen to feel very fond of what else follows." You whisper softly, your voice laced with concern as you sniff the foggy damp air, smelling nothing but decaying flesh as it wafts into your nostrils.

Geralt holds his weapon tightly, opening his mouth to answer, but before he's able to say anything a piercing screech breaks out from the woods. His sword flashes in the moonlight as he cuts down another hungry ghoul. Without warning another one breaks out of the earth to his right, dead in a flash as he slashes it across the throat.

The dirt bulges upward as another crawls from underneath the ground, heading directly for Geralt, the beast doesn't stand a chance as your Witcher stabs the soil directly in front of him. Killing the damn ghoul in an instant. Suddenly a black screaming flash races past you and tackles him to the ground.

"Oh fuck!" Unknowingly leaves you lips as you race to his aid, five of them have him pinned to the ground already as you pull his silver sword from the earth that he had left behind in the scuffle. These starving bastards don't see you coming as you begin slashing and hacking violently away at the ghouls. Trying your damn best to get them off of Geralt, they scream in agony as you end their half-lives.

More race out from the shadows to surround the two of you, Geralt pushes and punches more off of him as you slice through their grotesque inhuman bodies. So caught up in your own world that you don't have time to make sure if Geralt is all right when another one jumps for your arm, only to be greeted with a hard cut to its sunken in stomach.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as you turn your head left and right, readying for anything else. When nothing appears to move you lower his sword to your side, turning around to give Geralt a smirk and no less a cocky comment.

Your face instantly falls when he whispers a harsh "fuck" while he leans down to look at something on his left thigh. He shakes his snowy mane, standing to his full height as he takes a limped step towards you. His obsidian eyes finally finding yours as he takes another troubled step forward, he looks like a mess.

Your eyes glance down at the bite mark revealing itself from an opened spot in his dark pants, you suck in a sharp breath, your face dead serious as you watch him with wide glossy eyes. His face looks rough and sweaty as he limps closer, suddenly falling to his knees as he stares at you, almost pleadingly, his dark eyes full of pain.

"Geralt?" You whisper, your nerves standing on end at the sight of him, no way he's just been bitten, it can't be.

Your lip quivers as you drop the forgotten sword upon the earth, taking hasty steps as he looks tiredly into your frightened face. You quickly kneel down to meet his eye level as he lets out a shaky breath, your hands gently touch his dirt smudged face as he wills his hands to grasp your arms.

His grip is unnaturally weak as you look deeply into his eyes, your voice shaky, "You're fine. You're fine, it's just a small wound nothing worth worrying over....it's just..it's nothing...you're fi...." His head falls downward in your palms as his hands slip from their place on your arms, "No, no, no, no....Geralt, love look at me! Look at me!" He answers back with a low groan, you swallow the building lump in your throat as he struggles to lift his tired gaze to yours.

The weakest of smiles displays over his handsome features as he lets out a tired sigh, "You're beautiful....you know that?" His voice is soft and broken as you hold up his face, biting your lip to keep from crying. He smiles sluggishly, "Thank you for loving me...I....Y/N...I...love y..."

Suddenly his eyes shut as he goes limp against you, you catch him and quickly move to gently position his body so that his head can rest in your lap, "Geralt no!" You exclaim desperately through tears that are starting to blur your vision, "Wake up! Wake the fuck up you dick...you can't leave me here!" You shake his shoulder but to no avail, "Fuck! No, no, no....I just got you back." Tears race down your cheeks as a sob racks through your entire body, you suck in a breath, trying to contain your pain.

This isn't fucking fair!

The old man hustles to your side, now made aware of the dire circumstances, "Ohhh, dear...Uh....we can take him to my house, if you will.....Just, keep him awake." Proposes the man, you hold Geralt closer, your wet cheeks glistening in the moonlight as your crimson eyes glow blood red.

"If you help me save him I won't end your pathetic life because of your stupidity!" You snap, making him flinch backwards as you glare at him, a low growl emitting from deep within your throat. If Geralt dies you might tear this man to shreds.

He quickly regains his bearings, now understanding that his life is at stake if Geralt dies under his care. The man walks around you, reaching down to pull Geralt from out of your lap. Once you're free he looks to you, "Miss he's quite heavy, this one. Could you lift his legs and help me carry him to...."

He's left with nothing but a genuinely bewildered look as you pick your sleeping Witcher up, holding him in both your arms while ignoring the mans shocked expression as you walk over to the large wooden cart. Setting Geralt in the back on a couple soft bags of goods.

Jumping in next to him, you kneel down by his side while the man quickly ties Roach to the back. It's going to be a long night. Until dawn broke out over the horizon, the great sun coating the land in daylight would you lay by his side as he slept through the multitude of hours.

Finally coming to in the late morning, looking more pale then usual and clearly disoriented, his golden irises trying so hard to focus on your blurry face. The man, who revealed himself to be Yurga, kept his horses at a fast trot while you continued to hold tightly onto your Witcher's arm, squeezing it every time he would begin to close his eyes. Just keep him awake.

"I don't know about you." Starts Yurga, "But I'm not liking the sound of those explosions in the distance....bloody Nilfgaard better keep themselves far away from here. We don't need trouble like that round these parts. Not after everything they've done."

Geralt stirs underneath your touch, snapping your attention back down to him, you watch as his eyelids open and close, his golden irises looking rather lost and hazy. He's so pale, too pale.

"Easy does it Butcher." Affirms Yurga as he turns his head to the side, "You got bit, best keep your sights trained on the pretty lady in front of you."

Geralt's brows furrow as he turns his own head to the side at the sound of the mans voice, confusion clear on his face since the poison from the ghouls has begun to mess with his mind. Seated closely on his right, his muscular arm on your left and his broad body on your right, his face is much more faded in color now. Too pale and sickly looking for your liking.

Reaching an arm out, you gently touch his face, turning his head back to you, "Geralt, keep those fine golden eyes on me, you gotta focus love....you're becoming delirious, but you're not dead. Just stay awake Geralt I'll be right here." He blinks hard, his face appearing dazed as he listens, suddenly trying to sit himself up.

You quickly react, leaning over him to grasp both his arms, stopping him from moving anymore, "Be still Geralt. You'll only make things worse if you try and move, your bite is spreading slowly but moving will only bring you more pain." His face grimaces in discomfort, you release your grip, sitting normally once again.

Oh Geralt, be strong for me.

Your face a mask of deep worry at his reaction, he may be a Witcher, but if his wounds are not treated properly he will die. Leaving you completely and utterly alone in this world whether you're ready for it or not. You rest a hand over his chest, listening to the slow thud of his heartbeat, he stares up at the sky, his gaze lost in the clouds.

You can tell he's probably watching some hallucination playing out before him, his gaze seems so far away while you sit here on this stupid hay covered cart pulled by the slowest two horses you've ever seen. He stirs again, his pale face trying to find yours as he focuses in on your worried appearance.

You can tell he's back, especially when his left arm quickly takes yours that was previously resting over his chest. He squeezes your hand, "My bag. Y/N I need my bag." His voice his gravelly and urgent, you quickly turn to look around, the pull of the cart jostling you while your eyes hunt for the bag.

"Yurga stop the fucking horses for a moment!" You yell, letting go of Geralt's hand as you grab the leather bag. Yurga directs his horses to stop, turning abruptly around to see what's the matter.

"The bottle....Y/N.....you know which one." Rasps Geralt as your eyes quickly find the small glass bottle containing some dark liquid, a type of healing potion for sure.

Handing the potion to your Witcher he hastily takes it, ripping off the cork with his teeth before making a face and chugging most of it. He groans, pouring the rest over his infected wound, more groans of pain sounding as you listen to the sizzle of flesh take to the healing mixture.

Gently patting his arm you hand him a small smile of reassurance, "You definitely need a healer, I'm afraid not even my blood can heal these wounds. Those fucking ghouls." You growl as Yurga urges his horses to begin trotting down the trail again.

His body rests against the piles of clothes and hay while his hand reaches out for yours, "I need to go to the Blue Mountains....Y/N...tell him I need to...." Mutters Geralt with tired eyes.

You squeeze his hand, "What? No, we don't have....you don't have enough time, Geralt you'll die."

"He'll heal me....I just need to go...."

"No!" You cry, there is absolutely no way you'd both make it to the Blue Mountains before his heart stops beating, "Stay awake you fucker, we'll heal you soon enough, just stay awake....we're almost to Yurga's farm. You'll get proper treatment there....just stay awake."

Until the sun would set and the darkness of night crept over the land would you constantly play as an ever continuous jostling annoyance to Geralt, doing all that you must to keep him awake and alive. Soon enough would Yurga have to stop and let his old horses rest for awhile. In the meantime, you'd help Geralt to lean against a tree as you went off in search of healing plants that could help to temporarily stop the spread.

With not much to give from your herb hunting, you walked forth from out of the bushes and into the grassy tree covered opening where you're greeted with the sight of a dark-red haired mage tending to your Witcher's infected bite wound. You immediately freeze, though she's too focused to even realize that you're watching her work. For a couple minutes would you observe her talents before blinking once and suddenly she's gone. Just like that, gone.

Well that was fucking bizarre.

Suddenly Geralt bolts upright, your brows furrow as he looks all around him, his wide eyes shifting right and left until they finally find your familiar form walking closer. He lets out an audible sigh of relief, before his grey brows furrow once again in thought.

"Where'd she go? The woman?" He wonders, confusion clear on his face as he watches you crouch down to meet his eye level.

You raise a brow, "Can't say I'd know, but I wish I'd have time to thank her for doing whatever magical mage shit she did to your infected bite mark." You reply with a chuckle, "Now you've gotten yourself a new scar added to the collection. Though still a very handsome work of art in my humble opinion."

His face softens at your relaxed tone, suddenly realizing that there's no need to worry anymore, "Thank you Y/N."

You laugh, "What for? I didn't do that much, I didn't even know how to properly heal you. And I definitely wasn't planning on turning you into a vampire just to have you around longer."

A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you study his face, "For keeping me awake this long, no matter how much I wanted to shove you off the wagon."

"I knew you wanted to do it, I could see it in your face. That is, when you weren't staring off into nothing like a lost boy who had too many special herbs." You jest, earning a pleasing chuckle from your sweaty Witcher. You smile, "Now. Come on my love, let's go." You reach a hand out for him to take, without a second thought he accepts, letting you pull him to his feet.

He shakes his head, steadying himself as he holds your arms, "Geralt you're acting like you've just downed half a dozen mugs of ale, lets rest on the cart yeah? Yurga will take us to his farm where we can get some proper food and drink, and if we're lucky....you some new pants."

His smile is soft as he looks down at you, Geralt touches your chin affectionately, "That sounds rather lovely."

Before he can do anything else you grasp the hand that's touching your chin, "I know exactly where your mind is going next and all I have to say is you're getting a bit more cleaned up before those pretty lips of yours are allowed to kiss me." He closes his eyes, resting his head against yours as he releases his hand from your chin. Now pulling you closer with his large strong hands.

"I could have died." He mutters, his gravely voice laced with a friendly playfulness.

"But you didn't."

"I could have."

"I know." You finally sigh, "You're still sweaty and smell like a dog who rolled in cow shit."

He lightly chuckles, "That's rude." Before pressing a feather light kiss onto your forehead where he then pulls away after a moment, "Guess we should help the old man pack the rest of his bags away."

Gripping his torso tighter you lean in close, "I'm enjoying myself too much." You admit, "Even though you smell rather atrocious at the moment."

"Oh please Y/N." Muses Geralt, his face inches from yours, "You still called be pretty when I was covered head to toe in Selkiemore guts, if I do recall."

"Did I? Must have slipped." You mutter lowly, brushing your lips past his.

"Y/N." Warns Geralt, his hot breath fanning over your smirking face as your ruby irises flicker from his plush lips to his golden eyes.

"On second thought. Perhaps you do look rather lovely at the moment, I think I'll just have to..." He's left guessing what you would have said next as your lips press firmly against his, both your arms pulling one another even closer now. Despite all he's just endured, Geralt tastes quite nice, his muscular body feeling even better holding you so close.

His lips move with yours in some pleasurable heated dance, soon enough does his calloused hands reach up to place themselves on either side of your face, you smile into the kiss at his urgency to hold you close. A couple more lingering blissful moments are shared flush against one another before your Witcher inevitably pulls away, first pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your lips once again before finally pulling away to look into your glistening eyes.

His hands still gently holding your cheeks, while your own ones grip around his forearms, "I hope there's more of that for when we find a tavern later." You muse, biting your lip as Geralt's eyes stare deeply into yours.

"Y/N. I'll let you take me any way you want." Mutters Geralt in that low and gravelly voice of his, "Just me and you."

"I think I'd like that very much." His lips find yours once again as your fingers trail down his back, wishing so hard that you were both laying on a soft warm bed in some hidden tavern in the mountains.

While you're both unbashfully exploring each others bodies like it was the first time, a sudden cough is heard from behind you causing the two of you to abruptly pull apart and look in that direction, "Uh...don't mean to intrude, but uh.....could we get moving if ya both don't mind?" Asks Yurga politely, trying not to find either of your amused gazes as he looks at a stick on the ground.

Right, you'd probably want to get out of the woods first.

The merchant Yurga had been true to his word, he had finally at long last made it to his home placed in a great clearing within the woods. A comfortable farmhouse on an open spot of land away from the fighting and battles nearby. His cart came to an abrupt halt as his wife quickly opened up the door and raced out to meet him, excitement flowing through her veins as a huge smile graced her face.

"We're all okay. The war is close, but we're okay. I need to tell you something." Exclaims Yurga's blonde curly haired wife.

"Me too." Affirms the older man with a slight thrill lacing his words.

His wife smiles, "I met a girl. An orphan, I found her in the woods nearby." Geralt halts all movement at the startling words, you doing the same as both of your furrowed gazes find one another.

No way this is who you think she's actually talking about. Hundreds of girls have been orphaned by the war.

"I met a Witcher." Speaks Yurga with a nod, "And a dhampir, if you'll believe it." Without warning Geralt jumps down from the cart and begins walking towards the woods much to your confusion, "They saved my life. Now fetch 'em some ale before they go to Kaer Mor-somthing." Urges Yurga, while you jump down from the cart, making hasty steps in Geralt's direction as Yurga and his wife finally look over to watch as the two of you make for the woods, "Hey, Butcher. Butcher! Where you goin'?" Shouts Yurga as Geralt continues onward, almost caught in a trance as he ignores the rambling merchant.

"Y/N?" Shouts the older man, causing you to stop and turn to him, "Where you two goin'?"

Your brows furrow, not completely sure of yourself, "I don't know." You whisper, keeping your body still as you look out at the thick greenery where Geralt had just wandered into for some unknown reason. You can't explain why, but you feel as though this is a path that only he must take.

The girl in the woods will be with him always.

He walks through the forest, his feet taking him somewhere or rather to someone who's been hiding from him for a long time. He can't even fully explain it, the call he feels to find what he's seeking. He suddenly stops, thinking his thoughts must be false and this urge to find who lingers in the wood is simply horseshit as per usual. A false sense of destiny. He turns around, walking a couple steps further back the way he came before an undeniable urge to look back consumes him.

The girl in the woods will be with you always.

And there she is, Princess Cirilla of Cintra, a shining beacon of hope in the dull wet gloom of the towering forest.

Destiny has prevailed.

Your boots shift from right to left as you stand idly in the morning air, your thoughts swimming around in your head of what could be taking Geralt so damn long, even if it's only realistically been about three minutes. Your new friends from behind you have instead left you to yourself and decided to tend to their horses, much to your relief.

Hugging yourself closer, you shiver, though you're not cold. A kind of magic of sorts seems to catch you in the misty air, a feeling you haven't felt since that night at Pavetta's banquet pulls around you like leaves on the wind.

How odd it feels, yet this seems right.

Two heartbeats reach your heightened ears, one so slow. But the other, beats normally like that of a child's.

You take a step back, steadying yourself as you wait for who you're expecting to inevitably appear. Shoes move across earth and leaves, signaling their close arrival. Your nerves die as two shadows emerge from the bushes and into the sunlight, the two of them are talking, unaware of your presence in the yard.

The child suddenly looks, her enchanted blue green irises falling onto you as she quickly comes to a halt, her eyes full of wonder and nervous apprehension. Geralt's brows furrow as he stops as well, his face turning to find the source of the girls fear.

His golden eyes spot you in an instant, he finds you staring curiously at the small blonde girl, the tiniest of smiles gracing your lips as you fiddle with your hands. You can't help but feel ridiculous for how you've been feeling about meeting this Child Surprise after so long, she is just a girl, a survivor of the unspeakable. Though you may not be the best with children in general, you feel no ill will against this one, all those previous feelings of loathing and judgement are gone to the wind.

Geralt's eyes are kind as he gently rests a comforting hand over her thin shoulder, she looks to him now then back to you as he speaks, "This is Y/N of Alkatraz, the dhampir princess of the High Northern Kingdom. My uh, lover?" He says cautiously, a bit unsure of what to truly call you before he thankfully finds his words, "Well...uh, my immortal companion, and someone who I love very deeply."

Oh, Geralt you adorable idiot.

Ciri's brows furrow in thought for a moment as she finds her courage, "My grandmother told me of that kingdom, she said it is ruled by vampires. Are you one?" She wonders, her voice a small nervous whisper.

The corners of your eyes crinkle in amusement as you smile, shaking your head, "No my dear princess, I am of that blood and character, but a dhampir is what I am as Geralt said. It's someone who is half vampire and half human." You assure the small girl, "No need to fear me, I promise you princess that I would never harm you in any way, you have my word."

A small grin tugs at the corners of her lips before her eyes fall downcast, "That's very kind, most people I've met so far out here have tried to kill me." She hands you the flash of a smile, "Glad to know not everyone is like them." She reveals freely to you with her small voice, so this is truly the Child Surprise.

The princess of Cintra.

"With us, you will not have to fear the damned talons of Nilfgaard Princess Cirilla...I will protect you with my life now."

Her brows furrow in thought at your truthful words, "You know of me? But how?"

You smile kindly, your scarlet irises flashing over to Geralt for a brief moment, "I have traveled with this handsome Witcher for almost fifty years, I know everything he knows. Even who you are." You take a couple steps forward, kneeling down to face her sad eyes, "And I am truly sorry for your loss, no child deserves the pain and fear you have endured since Cintra's fall. No less the horrors you have witnessed since your escape, these lands are undoubtedly deadly."

"Thank you, Y/N." She looks from you to Geralt, "I'm glad to have found you both then." You smile, standing up fully to lace your arm with Geralt's.

"Now, I think these kind people here may have breakfast waiting for us and some ale if I'm lucky, so my small friend Ciri, would you join us for a decently peaceful morning?" Ciri gifts your ears with a small giggle as Geralt hums in amusement. Proud that you're taking so well to the newest addition to your group of two.

You turn around just as the curly haired woman waves, "Would you all mind joining us for breakfast?" She calls out as a satisfied grin breaks out upon your face, "Of course we would be delighted!" You shout back, probably with too much excitement but you're trying to look as non threatening as possible. Also you are admittedly very hungry.

The three of you begin walking toward the farmhouse, Ciri follows the woman and her husband inside as Geralt stops near the entrance, you turn a raised brow to him, "What is it now? You planning on finding another magical orphan in the woods again?"

He looks down at the muddy ground before finding your lingering gaze once again, "No, just trying to figure out what to do next." Grumbles your Witcher in that lovable gravely voice of his.

You gently squeeze his hand as a smirk plays at your lips, "How bout we think of breakfast first? Then we can set our sights on paying our friends at Kaer Morhen a little visit. Bet they'd love that." You add sarcastically, wiggling your brows.

Your Witcher finally gives you a small smile, "Oh, I'm sure they'll be thrilled to see you again." He jests.

Lightly smacking his arm you take a step into the doorway, turning back to look at him, "What? Am I not nice and lovable? Can't believe you'd even say that."

"Only when you want to be." Mutters Geralt before gently kissing the side of your head while walking past you, "Now lets get some ale."

Tagged: @seninjakitey @notahappytree @ashleyforeverareject @sokkasdarling @kmuir1@haleypearce @diegos-butt (@auds24 sorry idk why ur name won’t work) @a-girl-who-loves-disney

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #princess cirilla #roach the horse

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angelanimedesaray · 4 years

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 3: Quicksand

AN: Okay, so this admittedly goes a little slow at the very beginning, more snooping and such, but I promise it picks back up about halfway through. And will pick up from here on out.

Characters: Levi, Vampire!Reader, Erwin, numerous BG characters

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Language, Peril (Temporary)

Word Count: 6940

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Levi’s POV*

You could tell a lot about a person from how they treated animals.

For the Scouts, it was the horses especially that mattered, as they were one of the few lifelines out beyond the walls. With how the horses had avoided L/N with everything they had, people in the vicinity would mutter about how she would never go beyond the walls at this rate, or how she had to be a bad person and the horses were sensing it.

That was one theory to go with.

However, as Levi continued to watch her, he never once saw her get angry or frustrated with them. Sometimes there was sadness, or it looked like she was on the edge of admitting defeat, but she continued to approach them with patient understanding, as if she knew exactly what they were afraid of, and was asking them not to be because she couldn’t change it.

Gradually, the dappled grey allowed her to come closer and closer. They started having problems giving someone else the job of cleaning the stables because she was spending so much of her free time in there, and she would clean while there to allow her to spend more time around the horses and give her something else to do besides just sitting there waiting for skittish horses to calm down. She was smart enough to know that she needed more than just one to calm down around her, though she was still putting in the work to form a bond with at least one. In case she was ever in a position where she needed another horse, though, it seemed she wanted the other horses to at least be comfortable with her presence--hence all the time spent in the stables.

If she wasn’t out in the field walking with the mare, then she was inside by the horse’s stall, leaning against the wall or sitting against the door. Then, at long last, she could be seen walking around side by side with her horse, the lead short and fairly loose. And after a few days holding a treat into the stall and waiting for the horse to feel comfortable coming up to her to eat it out of her hand, she finally made it /into/ the stall. Her hard work was paying off, as now she could be found inside the stall, gently brushing the dappled grey mare while she spoke in soft tones to the horse, continuing to build up the trust and bond between the two of them.

As Levi stepped into the stables, he could hear her speaking softly with the mare, her words underlined with each thoughtful brush stroke.

“There we go...that’s a good girl...see, just like I said, nothing to be afraid of. I know I’m scary, you all remind me every time I come in here, but I’m not going to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt anyone--I’m just here to help. See, that feels much better, doesn’t it? I’m not going to hurt you. I promise as long as I’m around, nothing’s going to hurt you. There we go...Steady...Shh…”

Levi’s head turned slightly at the subject of her rambling, his gaze following down the line until he spotted the stall his horse was in, not far from L/N’s horse.

“You don’t mind all my rambling, do you, Zephyr? It’s nice to talk to someone, even if they’re not going to talk back. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in…” She grew quiet, and even the brushing stopped for a moment. Curious. “...too long,” she finished, her voice hardly above a whisper.

She seemed to quiet down entirely as Levi risked stepping into the stables, and he realized he had been heard, or at the very least she’d become aware she wasn’t by herself. Continuing forward casually, Levi turned his head to look into the stable as he passed, spotting L/N with the brush set off to the side and currently working on undoing any tangles in Zephyr’s mane. Their eyes met for a moment, and Levi paused.

“Will she let you ride her, yet?”

She turned away, the faintest touch of red entering her cheeks at the mention of her trouble with the horses. “Not yet. But I don’t think it will be much longer before she does.”

Levi’s gaze swept over the stable, kept immensely clean with fresh straw, water, and food, and the coat on the horse smooth and lustrous. At this rate, the mare was going to be more of a show horse than a war horse.

“You’re not slacking anywhere else, are you?” Levi asked as his gaze slipped over the pristine stall and back to her. A stall didn’t get that clean without a lot of constant work.

“No, sir. This is where I was lacking the most, so it’s getting more of my attention. But I’m making sure other parts of my training aren’t suffering.”

Well, he’d be the judge of that. With the way she held up in training, any degree of slipping would be easy to spot.

Levi resumed what he was doing, walking deeper into the stables to check on his horse, which he planned to take for a brief ride to stretch his legs. “Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” he added before L/N left his field of vision. The stable was quiet for a few moments, broken only by the sound of Levi getting his horse ready to go.

So quietly he almost didn’t hear it, Levi got a reply.

“This one I can keep.”

Earlier in the day, Levi had jumped on the chance to get a more personal glimpse at L/N, taking over the cleanliness checks in the barracks, much to everyone else’s dismay. He was well aware that his standards were far above everyone else’s, but today they were just going to have to deal with it, and step it up. On the bright side, as he walked down the lines of beds, he was able to see who was terrible at doing a decent cleaning job and who had potential.

He gave criticisms at every bed--dust, missed spots, trying to hide part of the mess under the beds, half-assed jobs, on and on the list went. When he got to L/N…

Now this was starting to get creepy.

His practiced eye swept over her space as she stood at attention just off to the side, taking in the bed spread smoothed of wrinkles, the dusted and wiped down surfaces, everything tucked away, floor swept and clean in her area--even a little into the surrounding spaces. There wasn’t anything in the way of personal effects, though--not out in the open, anyway.

It was immaculate. Up to his standards practically to a T. It was an unexpected discovery, amongst the many things he thought he’d see. He thought he might see a personal effect here or there that would give him a bit more on her personality, but there was nothing he could see during a cleanliness inspection.

He’d have to come back later.

Shit, I’m starting to sound like a goddamn stalker.

Carefully, Levi ran a hand on the underside of the bed, the nightstand, anywhere there might be dirt left over, and came away with nothing.

She was the only one he walked by without saying anything, because he had no critiques to give. He wondered if she was always this clean, or she’d heard he was doing the inspections and pulled off a miracle.

He went back when there was no one around to do a more thorough search, still believing that she might have something that would tip him off a little more. Frankly, if he continued to find a complete lack of personal effects, that would bolster his suspicions as well, because it signified something to be hidden or something that was trying to be forgotten, or a preparation to run at a moment’s notice.

He didn’t know what he would find, if anything, but if it was another lead, he would take it.

The barracks were currently empty, and he had made sure they’d be empty for a while, choosing the time there was a morning drill going on for the new recruits to sneak in and do some digging.

First he checked the footlocker at the end of her bed, opening it up and carefully shifting through. Mostly it was made up of uniform clothes, a pair of nice plainclothes, a pair of casual plainclothes, a couple more comfortable workout clothes, a plain black cloak--

His hand paused on the cloak. It looked like it could be the one being worn by the person he’d pursued and lost that one night. Not a confirmation, but it was further evidence she was sneaking out at night, even if he hadn’t seen her face.

Finding nothing else suspicious in the footlocker, Levi checked under the bed and found only dress shoes and casual shoes, and then moved onto the nightstand.

Here, he found a book from the library on herbology with a bookmark on custom tea blends, as well as a tin of some of the said tins. There was quite a bit of chamomile and mint from the whiff he was immediately hit with upon checking inside the tin, with a couple other blends--but mostly the chamomile and mint. Inside, he also found a tightly bound bundle of white sage in a cloth covering, blank sheets of paper, more writing utensils than he would have expected, and a leather bound folio. Opening it revealed no official documents missing from her background, no personal letters or intercepted reports.

Inside, it was gorgeous artwork. Sketches of the horses in various poses of rest or activity, of the scenery around Wall Rose, a sketch of one of the few mansions in the district, and--

Levi paused, eyes widening as he stilled, the silence in the room pressing in on him. His mind flashed back to just the other day, when he’d seen Zephyr out in the field away from the other horses, laying down and looking contently about, but not moving. He’d only been able to make out part of L/N through the long grass, leaning against the horse with her knees pulled up, looking lost in something. He’d assumed it was a book from the distance where he was once more leaning against the wall in the shadows of the stables, or that she was writing something.

Amongst the more recent drawings of the horses, there was a portrait of him, leaning against that wall at the stables, arms crossed, head slightly bowed but eyes centered on the observer, or, in this case, the artist. Even the shade was accounted for, making the features a little more difficult to make out, but they were still clear and detailed.

She’d seen him well enough at that distance to make out and sketch his features in this detail? Or had some of it been visualization?

More importantly, it was pretty much confirmation that she knew he was watching her.

Levi closed the folio, putting everything back in its proper place with care, feeling intrusive and out of place now that he’d failed to come up with anything malicious in nature. There were only a couple things that made him uneasy with the implications, never anything that proved to be outright dangerous, as always. And he couldn’t exactly say anything about the sketch of himself without her knowing he’d gone through her belongings.

Levi was gone long before the recruits returned to the barracks from their drill.

She’d slipped away from the main group after the next combat training session, hanging back and going a different direction than the rest of the group. Levi had a brief moment where he thought she might be slipping away to the same place she went at night, and had followed her on the off chance that was the case.

She ended up going to a quiet corner of the Scout headquarters, at a corner of buildings near the forest that no one bothered with. Once there, she kneeled down, tending to a cluster of plants that was lined up in the familiar form of a small garden. It was fairly new, too, from what Levi could see, which told him she probably planted them herself not too long ago. How long had she been working on this little side project?

Just another one of his suspicions turning out to be harmless activity. He was just about ready to write off his uneasy feeling as paranoia.

He could have just walked off and left her alone, but he lingered, waiting until she finished what she was doing and left before he quietly approached the garden to satiate his own curiosity.

Kneeling down, he realized that the tiny garden was made up of plants, mainly herbs, that could be used in tea making. There were brushes of mint, chamomile, and lemongrass as the most notable plants, and near the corner where they would get full sun and could help hide the little herb garden there were even three freshly planted bushes, hibiscus, raspberry, and rose, with the flowering bushes meant to support the raspberry in the middle. The soil was dark and the leaves had beads of water still on them that shined on his thumb after a careful stroke against a leaf to see it healthy and strong, showing that L/N had been by to water them. They were doing fairly well, from what he could see, even though the plants were too young to harvest anything from.

Was she attempting to grow the materials to make her own tea blends so she wouldn’t have to spend much of her salary on tea?

Standing to leave as that pesky feeling of intrusion started to worm its way back into his mind, Levi caught sight of a small collection of white sage, directly out in the sun and recently planted, but noticeably far away from the other plants. It was curious, the way it was planted so that it couldn’t be missed and could be easily avoided. At the same time, though, it could just have been an aggressively growing plant that would take over the other plants if it got too close to them. While he knew it could also be used in teas, it wasn’t as common...and he’d seen a bundle of the sage spikes tightly bound and covered in her nightstand.

What was so special about it? Why did she have it?

Levi shook his head, turning to leave and mentally filing the questions about the white sage under “personal questions” instead of “suspicions.”

His suspicions weren’t entirely gone. While he was getting a stronger sense of her character that caused his doubts about her to waver, he still had some glaring questions he couldn’t ignore that caused his wariness to endure...for now.

ODM gear training--another essential part to life in the Scouts. At this point in time, it was a chance for officers to get a feel for the skills of the cadets first hand instead of just what it said on paper about their Cadet Corps training.

The trees here were thick, allowing perfect cover for their Titan dummies spread sporadically throughout the woods. At the highest points in the trees, the officers stood on platforms to observe quietly, moving from platform to platform as needed while the recruits moved through the trees, watching the cadets zip around the forest looking for Titans.

Levi’s eyes, however, were drawn to the fact that Erwin was out here. He knew for a fact that Erwin had better things to be doing than watching rookies try to hunt down dummies, but for some reason he was always near the same spot Levi was, his gaze fixed complacently in the same area, flickering in disinterest past most of the cadets. If any of the rookies knew he was here, the word would spread like wildfire, and they might shift their attention to trying their damndest to impress the Commander instead of doing the drill properly.

But there was a gleam in Erwin’s eyes. He was here for a reason. Levi just didn’t know what it was, which unsettled him, but didn’t distract him from watching the recruits.

Erwin’s gaze caught Levi’s, and the faintest, unsettling smile appeared on his lips, gone in the next second as his attention was drawn towards an oncoming recruit who was high in the trees, apparently trying the high-ground tactic to spot a Titan before the others. A terrible approach, really, since it allowed more tree cover for the Titans by adding more branches and foliage below the individual.

Levi started to turn away in disinterest, hearing the sound of another fast-approaching recruit coming towards them. While the recruit was still in his peripherals, they disengaged the cables, ready to fire them into another tree to make a sharp turn.

Except the cables didn’t deploy.

The recruit let out a shriek and plummeted towards the ground from a dangerous height, gear malfunctioning and not sending out the cables to catch them on their way down. Levi whipped around, hands flying out to his holstered ODM controls--

--Erwin didn’t look surprised by what was happening--

Someone darted in low and fast. It was one of the recruits, the one that had already been moving in their direction, and as such, was in the best position to react first.

Of all the people it could have been, it was L/N.

She wasn’t using any gas, her falling momentum casing her to come in low and fast to the ground, cables deploying at the last moment to even out her fall and propel her forward, her back running parallel with the ground as she shot towards the falling cadet. When she was close enough, she angled herself back up to intercept the recruit, gas propelling her up into the air instead of her momentum. There was an audible thud and grunt as they collided, L/N’s arm wrapped around the fallen recruit’s midriff as she twisted to fire another cable to bring herself up to safety.

The only problem was that there were two dummies in the direction she was flying, and the training didn’t stop because of a hiccup.

One of the dummies swung down and towards her, on a clear collision course if she didn’t see it and couldn’t react fast enough. At least now it would hurt like a bitch but it wouldn’t be fatal.

L/N let loose a sudden burst of gas to speed up and rolled so she was facing the ground, back upwards and exposed to the falling dummy. For a second, he thought she was going to take the brunt of the blow--which would mean death if this had been real. She pulled herself upright at the last second, sailing right underneath where the dummy titan’s mouth would be, her body twisted out of reach of the dummy, and she kicked off the side of its neck to give herself another boost, cables firing upwards high into the trees and causing her to sore upwards, another brief burst of gas allowing her the momentum to keep her going upwards with the added weight still tucked against her side with one arm.

The second dummy swung out from behind the trees, fast enough to knock someone clean out of the air. Instead of going under like she did the first time, she twisted again, keeping the recruit in her arms safe from impact. She arched over him in an upside U, cables firing up and out to bring them safely onto a tree branch. She set the other recruit down, a hand on their shoulder as she said something to them, checking their gear with them before waving for one of the other officers to come over and get the recruit. Once the recruit who fell was guaranteed to be alright, she kicked off, doubling back to slice through the Titan dummy napes before disappearing back into the forest.

Levi looked back over at Erwin, able to immediately recognize that gleam in his eyes as Erwin looked out in the direction L/N had taken off towards. It was the same look Levi saw in the Underground, back when they met. Ulterior intentions or not, Erwin was going to do his damndest to make sure she was on their side in the end, and speaking from experience, Levi knew it was possible.

Releasing his grip on his ODM controls, Levi’s gaze flickered back over to the recruit that had fallen, that look he’d seen on Erwin’s face moments before it happened flashing through his mind.

I know you can’t guarantee finding the answers to all of your questions in such a short amount of time, but you could at least find out if she will have the back of her fellow scouts on the first expedition.

That had been planned, hadn’t it? He wanted to test if she had her comrades backs in a moment of danger, and she had responded immediately and without hesitation. Levi had to trust that there had been some kind of backup plan to make sure that recruit didn’t end up dead--Erwin wouldn’t have done something like that without having someone waiting in the wings in case L/N acted selfishly.

He was sure everyone was impressed after what she’d just pulled off even with someone under her arm, but part of him...wasn’t really surprised. Then again, Levi was the only one who’d had a first hand taste of how strong she really was. This was a reassurance that her other training had not slipped while she put so much effort into the horses, and was further confirmation at the asset she could be to them as a member of the Scouts.

Let’s hope she could keep that even head when it was Titan jaws snapping at her and not just wooden figures swinging her way.

He felt absolutely drained.

It was the night before the next expedition, and Levi found himself sitting alone in the mess hall, a cup of steaming tea resting on the table in front of him with his fingertips lingering lightly on the rim of the cup. Ever since that first night he’d caught L/N sneaking out, he’d been staying up as much as possible to try and catch her sneaking out again. He was already used to not sleeping much, but even he had his limits. His eyelids were heavy, and his focus kept slipping, even as he tried to get down a cup of tea to help him sleep more soundly tonight so he would be at his best tomorrow.

He would finally get to see L/N in the field. Erwin was still planning on keeping her in the formation where Levi would have her in his sights at all time so he could see how she did when it wasn’t training anymore. Not to mention, he was looking forward to it.

His suspicions had started to die down in the back of his mind, giving way to glowing embers of a curiosity he figured would be satiated with time. Perhaps that uneasiness in his gut had nothing to do with her trustworthiness, and he had simply been caught off guard by her abilities. Perhaps the thought of a rookie already able to go toe to toe with him had unnerved him, and that was where the feeling originated.

The more he pried into her as a person, the less of a reason he found to be doubtful of her intentions. The recruits who’d been in class with her had described her as cold and unsociable, someone up to trouble that was never discovered and far more skilled than she let on. However, when he observed her and came within proximity to her, she was warm, and careful, and considerate, although he still did not miss the hesitation, the way she was ready to pull away at a moment’s notice and increase the distance once more, the way she seemed to always be holding something back…

But that didn’t mean she was a bad person. If anything, he was worried about her because she seemed far more empathetic under the surface than she let on. He’d seen the garden she tended to quietly, seen her artistic hobby, seen how she interacted with her horse Zephyr now that she was able to ride the mare. Even if she didn’t have any close friends in the Scouts, she was close with that horse, spending most of her free time with Zephyr, brushing her, laying with her in the field while she drew or read, simply walking with her.

She seemed...gentle, at heart. Before he knew it, he was softening towards her. How could he see all of that, and not start to let go of his suspicions? It’s why watching her had suddenly felt intrusive, why this final night he had stopped staring out the window watching for a hooded figure and come into the mess hall to seek tea to help him sleep instead of forcing himself to stay up all night again to keep an eye out for her slipping out into the night.

The silence was comforting, his limbs feeling heavy, head tilting downwards, fingers going limp around the empty cup as he slowly...nodded off…

He was so exhausted...

*Reader’s POV*

Your steps down the darkened halls of the Scout Headquarters were silent, your hood still drawn as you made your way deeper into the stone building. While your face was still hidden in shadow, your hand did a careful rub around your mouth to be sure that you didn’t have any trace of your meal lingering on your face.

You hadn’t needed to sneak out for another bite, but considering you were going on an expedition tomorrow, you’d decided to play it safe and sneak out again to make sure you were fully satiated. You needed to be at peak performance, and you needed to make sure your bloodlust was fully satiated in case you found yourself in the middle of a bloodbath.

The last thing you needed was to lose control in front of everyone and feed off of a fellow Scout. All the pleading and rationalizing in the world wasn’t going to save you from a vengeful blade or banishment in that kind of situation.

Once you were sure there wasn’t any blood on your face, you lowered your hood, quietly making your way into the barracks and retrieving one of your bought chamomile tea bags before slipping away to the mess hall. The only sounds in the castle was the faint talking of guards at the entrance, the huffs or snickers of the horses in the stables, and the soft breaths and heartbeats of the sleeping scouts that filled Headquarters.

The closer you got to the mess hall, however, the more you could make out a singular heartbeat and soft breathing, the familiar sound of someone fast asleep.

In the mess hall?

Once you were close enough, you managed to catch the faintest scent that immediately told you who was asleep in the mess hall. That scent had been following you since your sparring match. It had wafted on the wind from the distance as he watched you from beside the stables or across training grounds, had lingered on your personal effects after you came back from a morning drill, had briefly lingered amongst the perfume of herbs and flowery plants in your little garden, and had cut through your senses the last time you’d snuck out for a bite, informing you that you were being followed long before you heard his breaths and heartbeat.

You’d known Captain Levi was watching you closely, and as such, you’d learned to attune yourself to his scent so you would know when he was nearby. He was always clean, with traces of tea and mint lingering despite the strong scent of soap, either from cleaning his surroundings or himself. But there was also the scent of his blood, sometimes unique for people with potent bloodlines, whose blood would be exceptional if you dared to partake.

Of course, Captain Levi, Commander Erwin, any of the Scouts were a hard off limits, so that was never something you were going to give into, never a taste that you would know. But that didn’t mean you would fail to pick up on the rich aroma his blood gave off.

God forbid his blood was ever spilled in front of you. That would be a challenge to resist.

Able to tell that he was asleep, you entered the mess hall quietly but without reservations, determined to make your cup of tea even if there was someone else in the room.

He seemed to have fallen asleep at the table, head slumped over into his chest, one arm still lying limply next to a cup of tea that, due to the scent that still had traces in the air, had been meant to help him sleep. His hair fell carefree into his face, lips parted slightly for his quiet breaths to slip between.

Good. He’d been looking exhausted recently, and you knew it was because he was keeping such a close eye on you. It was almost like you couldn’t go anywhere without Levi one step behind you. The rumors said it was because he was thinking of having you join his squad, but you doubted that was really the reason. Your suspicion was that he’d grown suspicious of you after your spar, and he was trying to figure out what you were hiding. If he’d simply been looking to have you on his squad, he wouldn’t have gone poking around your personal effects or been following you whenever you were by yourself.

You didn’t hate him for it--he was just doing his job, and he had every right to be suspicious. Hell, if his instincts had told him there was something wrong with you, that there was something dangerous about you, they weren’t wrong. He was right to follow them and poke around. It was just for your own sake that you hoped you could dodge him until his suspicions disappeared and he could accept you weren’t here out of malice.

You really were here to help. Your intentions were genuine, even if you had some personal monsters you were trying to keep in the dark. You just weren’t so sure you could convince them that you weren’t a threat if they were to ever find out what you were. You didn't even want to think of what Captain Levi’s reaction would be if he ever found out, especially if he found out while armed and in the same room as you.

There were already those who knew about your species, and considered you to be a far more lethal threat to humanity than Titans, one that needed to be expunged indiscriminately. The fear was always there that if someone discovered you, they would see things that way, that they wouldn’t hesitate to put down a clear threat to humanity.

Shaking the dark thoughts from your mind, you focused on the here and now instead of what ifs that might never come to pass. Instead, you carefully removed your cloak from around your shoulders and approached Levi quietly and carefully, draping the dark cloth around his body to keep him covered up.

You’d just been outside, so of course you were aware that it wasn’t the warmest night.

You paused just short of lifting your hands, hearing a shift in his heartbeat and breathing that suggested he might wake up. It figured he would be a light sleeper. Maybe you should have just left him alone instead of risking waking him up.

Well, either way, it would be more awkward if he woke to you just standing there next to him--if he did wake up. There was still the chance he would slip back into sleep.

Attempting to stay silent so you wouldn’t disturb him anymore than you already had, you slipped away into the kitchen, going about making your cup of tea as quietly as you could, movements exaggerated with how slow you were going in an attempt not to let the kettle and other dishes rattle. While you made your tea, you could hear the slightest shift of fabric, hear a pause, his heart rate and breathing back to normal waking pace.

Well, shit. It looked like you’d managed to wake him up with your act of kindness now gone wrong. You should have left him alone instead of disturbing his sleep. And now you were going to have to be social when you left the kitchen.

Well...maybe that was a good thing. With all this watching from a distance, maybe it would help to put his mind at ease if he was to simply talk to you, just a little.

Though you could also very likely end up headed towards a conversation you weren’t ready to have, one you couldn’t answer even though they were so simple, like ‘where did you come from’ and anything related to family.

You let out a soft sigh as you poured your tea into your cup, resigning yourself to the incoming late night conversation with Captain Levi.

As you walked back into the eating area of the mess hall where Levi had fallen asleep, you could see him sitting up properly again, your cape folded up neatly and sitting on the tabletop with his hand resting thoughtfully in its center, a small frown on his lips.

He looked up when you entered the room, and something flashed in his eyes, gone as soon as it appeared. It made you uneasy.

Was there blood on your cape? No, you were certain there wasn’t any blood--you knew what you were doing, and you knew how to eat without spilling any blood or making a mess. There wasn’t any blood on your cape. So what was that look for? Was it just from his suspicions? Had he figured you had just come back from sneaking out again?

“What are you doing up?” Levi asked bluntly as you approached, teacup in hand

As much as you wanted to turn the question around on him, the one who had fallen asleep in the mess hall, you knew better. You were trying to stay on his good side, not antagonize him, which was already difficult when the odds were already so stacked against you.

You took a seat, raising the cup slightly as both your hands curled around the hot cup to cradle it in your grasp. “I was feeling restless, so I came down here to get something to calm my nerves,” you told him honestly, taking a slow sip of tea once you’d finished speaking.

“And you felt the need for a cloak on the way from the barracks to the kitchen?” Levi asked skeptically, eyebrow cocked challengingly.

You shrugged, outwardly unfazed by his question. “I tried walking it off first. Didn’t work out like I’d hoped.”

“Are you nervous?”

Your eyes flickered his way, meeting his steady gaze and briefly wondering if he was actually referring to tomorrow, or if that was meant to double as referring to him always watching her, asking if she had a reason to be nervous about it.

“I suppose I should be. Afraid, even. But whenever I start to get worried I tell myself whatever happens, happens. I’ll do what I can, when I can. If I come back, wonderful, if I don’t...I won’t be going out quietly,” you said, grip tightening slightly around the cup as you stared down at the water colored by the chamomile blend. “Maybe subconsciously I am nervous, and that’s why I’m restless tonight.”

Levi was fixing you with a hard look at your rather passive answer, eyes probing, reading every muscle twitch looking for a lie or a deeper meaning. “Aren’t you itching to kill Titans? Or at least shitting yourself at the chance to go outside the walls?”

“Except I didn’t come to kill Titans, specifically. Going outside the walls, seeing what’s out there, that’s a bonus. I came to help. Whether that means killing Titans, guarding carts, playing messenger or lookout, or mucking out stalls. As long as I feel like I’m doing something to help.”

Levi leaned back in his seat. He didn’t look particularly impressed with your attitude. “Why did you join the Scouts?” he asked bluntly. “Why not the MPs or the Garrison?”

Images flashed through your mind. Drunken garrison members stationed in Wall Rose who only sat around gambling, drinking, and ignoring their duties. Your eyes lifted to the raven-haired man in front of you, and you had the faintest memory pass through your mind of a black haired youth pressed into the ground by Military Police, about to beat the kid to a pulp to teach the Underground gutter rat not to steal, even though it was the only way the kid was going to get something to eat. Corruption, complacency, and current uselessness in the fight against the Titans, that’s all you thought when you heard Military Police or Garrison Regiment. You knew it was a harsh viewpoint, and a blanket one that didn’t truly apply to everyone in either branch, but that impression had been made so strongly on you that you couldn’t resolve it, not at this point.

Also, this was a good chance to plant the seed that she really did want to help, that she really was an ally and not an enemy. Just in case she was found out.

“I wanted to go somewhere I could actually do something, where I could put my skills to good use and do something worthwhile. I know that’s not the general public feeling about what the Scouts do, but I knew if I went to the Garrison or the MPs, I’d be wasted there. Complacency isn’t for me. I knew the Scouts was the best place for me to go if I wanted to do something that could actually help.”

You quieted again, taking another sip from the cup. Once more, it was true. If you wanted to use your vampiric abilities to make a difference, the Scouts was the best place for you. You were tired of existing in shadows, of letting days slip by without making any kind of impact on the world around you. No more complacency. You wanted to take action and do something with your abilities other than hunt and eat people. What better way than to go out and fight the Titans? They were still a threat to you, you couldn’t regenerate like a Titan, and decapitation from teeth would kill you just as surely as a stake through the heart. But you had a better chance against the Titans than the average human, and you wanted to use your better chances to give humanity a better opportunity to fight back. That would make your existence feel...worthwhile. Instead of parasitic.

Down at the other end of the table, Levi sighed, pushing himself up onto his feet, likely to head back to his room before he fell asleep in the mess hall again.

*Levi’s POV*

Levi wasn’t too enthused by most of her reasoning for joining the Scouts. He had seen far too many pointless deaths to optimistically say that she wouldn’t die pointlessly in the Scouts. Hell, she had a higher chance of dying needlessly in the Scouts than anywhere else, especially if she had the wrong attitude going out there. A hero complex could get her killed just as easily as complacency. She should be focused on survival, and how casually she spoke about what could happen tomorrow made him uncomfortable. He’d be more at ease if she was displaying a determination to come back, some kind of fire, a spark. Instead, it felt like she thought there was something she needed to prove, and he worried it was the wrong priority.

Hopefully, her attitude would change once she saw the hell of the Titans up close. If not, he wasn’t going to have much hope for her going forward.

Getting to his feet, Levi grabbed his teacup to clean up in his chambers, leaving the cloak folded on the table for her to retrieve when she was finished down here.

“Make sure you come back to tend to those plants. They’ll die if there’s not someone around to take care of them,” he said in a monotone voice before turning to leave. He made it almost to the door before she spoke up again.

“Captain Levi?”

He paused, but he didn’t turn or say anything, waiting to hear what she wanted to say.

“Just because I’m not open with everyone, doesn’t mean I’m a threat. There’s just some parts of myself I would like to keep to myself,” she said softly. His head twitched to the side at the unexpected comment, catching the sight of her forlorn expression as she gazed down at the cup just in front of her lips.

He didn’t say anything, instead continuing down the hall and disappearing from her immediate sight. Once he was within the safety of his chambers, a hard glint flashed in his eyes.

The scent of blood and shit unique to one place within the walls lingered on her cloak.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier @whalerus @sunny-flo

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

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purplecatdad · 3 years

Text

Rarepair Week “First Kiss”

Part of the RDR Events Rarepair Week!

Prompt: First Kiss

Arthur/Kieran | Teens and Up | Canon-Divergence | CW Shot wounds

Arthur isn’t part of the VDL Gang in this one, he is just some outcast who some day runs into a skittish young man with a bad wound and decides to help him!

AO3 Link will follow.

Kieran knew that she shouldn’t have trusted them. He knew that, after all, the van der Linde gang wasn’t all much different from the O’Driscolls. And that they absolutely would kill them the moment they had no need for him anymore.

He still cursed himself as he was riding Branwen, hard and fast through the shrubs, making his way through Cumberland Forest to the general direction of the Grizzlies, up north where he hoped for safety. He was terrified of the animals there but he hoped that he’d be able to lose the gang there.

“Come on, girl. I know you can do it”, he whispered to Branwen, pressing his legs into her sides to push her forwards even though he knew that she was running for her life as well.

A shot went off that grazed her shoulder, both Kieran and Branwen crying out. He couldn’t lose this horse, not after everything they went through. Another shot and this time Kieran felt blinding pain through his leg. He cried out, felt the blood seeping down through the fabric of his shirt but he grabbed the reins tighter. No matter how much blood he’d lose, he had to get away from Dutch’s boys before they could catch up to them.

He just passed Fort Wallace when he heard the train whistling, announcing it’s arrival at the nearby station. Luckily, Kieran knew the area since he had camped up here with his former gang before so he pushed Branwen forward towards Baccus station, up the mountains. This was his chance, if he could only get the train between himself and his pursuers he might live to see another day.

They were galloping up towards the station, the train rushing towards them. Kieran pushed Branwen to keep running forward. He heard how they passed the train tracks, the train dangerously close. He heard Bill curse loudly behind him as the train rushed over the tracks right after Kieran had passed them. He still made Branwen run, still as fast just to get some more distance between them. The train came to a halt, stopping for the few passengers that would leave at the station and Kieran prayed to whoever would hear it that the gang wouldn’t try to get around the train.

As he passed the Donner Falls, the rushing of the water drowning out any other sound he dared to slow down Branwen, sitting down heavily in the saddle and leaning back. He looked behind himself, scanning the area for any possible threat … but there was none. He sighed gently, slumping down in the saddle and gently scratching Branwen’s neck. “We did it, girl …” he said and gently nudged her forward. Even though he had lost them, he knew that he couldn’t just stay here. He needed a proper camp, some place to rest up, to take care of his wounds.

Branwen was breathing hard, her walk now painstakingly slow but he didn’t have the energy to make her move faster. His vision got blurry, his mind started spinning. He looked over at his leg again, the blood dripping out of the wound. He knew that he should cover it up, but … His vision went black and all he heard was a “You alright there, mister?!” before he lost consciousness.

Kieran woke up to the smell of something cooking on a campfire. It made his stomach growl loudly before he could even open his eyes properly and he heard a low rumble of a man chuckling close to him.

“Least yer still hungry.” He heard a stranger’s voice as he slowly sat up, blinking as he took in his surroundings. He was surrounded by trees, the early morning sun just rising above the horizon in the distance. A small campfire was lit next to the lean-to tent he was now sitting in, a man crouching next to it as he stirred around in the pot.

The stranger was impressively large, broad shoulders, some scruff on his face, an old leather hat on top of his head. He looked rough, like a man that was used to living outside but when he looked over at Kieran there was a smile on his face and his eyes seemed kind and friendly. “Name’s Arthur. Found yer bleeding out on your horse, fixed yer up, didn’t want you dying on me. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, not used to kindness like this. “Where’s my horse?” he blurted out, not interested in making conversation now. “Is she alright?”

The other man chuckled softly at that and motioned towards a closeby tree, where three horses were standing. An impressively tall, black dappled thoroughbred standing next to an arabian with a brindled coat, unlike anything Kieran had ever seen. And right next to them was his horse. “Branwen!” He called out, got up and ran towards her. Halfway there his vision got dark again and he almost stumbled into her.

“Woha there”, suddenly the stranger was standing close to him as well, steading him with a hand on his arm, his grip firm but gentle. “You lost a lotta blood, make sure to rest some b’fore you start runnin’ like that.”

Kieran closed his eyes until the world stopped spinning, blushing slightly as he realized how close the handsome stranger actually was to him. He excused himself as he got out of his grip and focused back on Branwen. “She got shot, I-” as he stroked down her neck towards her shoulder he realized that her wound had been tended to. Surprised, he looked up at Arthur who just shrugged gently.

“I know a thing or two ‘bout horses. Took care of her wound .. but she’ll be alright.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, then looked at Branwen before he looked back to the pot of stew on the fire. “Why… why would you do all this … for a stranger? What’s in it for you?” He had never met anybody who would just do something out of goodwill for a person they didn’t actually know.

Arthur shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ in for me, ‘s far ‘s I know. But helpin’ folk.. ‘s the righ thing to do ‘s all. Now, let’s get some good into ya.”

So they sat down around the campire together. Arthur served them both some stew, made with rabbit and some wild carrots. Kieran had to hold himself back not to gobble it all down within seconds after being starved out by the van der Linde gang. Arthur seemed to notice how hungry he was because he immediately refilled Kieran’s bowl after he had finished the first one.

“So, why’d you get shot?” Arthur asked eventually as Kieran was halfway done with his second server. “Pissed off the wrong fellar?” Kieran thought about it for a moment. He knew that mentioning a gang could seem a bit too threatening. He didn’t want to risk Arthur sending him away again if he learned that he had been hunted down by some outlaws … that he used to be a part of. But he also felt bad keeping it from him. What if they actually found him here, O’Driscolls or Dutch’s boys?

“... It’s a long story. But something like that, yeah. I was … they had tied me up for a while, got away though. Don’t think they followed me, though. I ain’t important enough for that.”

“Shit. Ya wanna talk to the law?”

Kieran looked up at him, shaking his head. “No … no, better not. I ain’t … well …”, he wasn’t even sure if the local law would know his name, he never played a big role in any gang that he was running with. But it was still not a good idea to get the law involved. What would Arthur think of that, though?

“‘s alright. I ain’t exactly friendly with the law either”, Arthur assured him and set his bowl aside. “Feel free to stick around, I don’t mind a little company.”

Kieran watched him for a moment, wondering if Arthur actually meant what he said or if he was just saying it to be polite. To him, Arthur didn’t seem like the kind of man who just said something to be polite, though. And so he smiled and gave him a little nod. “I’d love to.”

And so they spent the next weeks together. Arthur told him about the Arabian he had caught. “Stripey”, as he called the young stallion just for the time being. Apparently there were two brothers down by Rhodes who’d give a good price for a horse like that, even without papers. So Arthur usually caught wild horses, the pretty ones that looked fast and strong. He was good with horses as he had worked on a ranch for a good part of his life and therefore had an easy time taming them.

Arthur had said that he didn’t like the word “breaking” because it wasn’t what he did. He explained to Kieran that horses wanted to trust and follow anyway, that it was in their nature. That people didn’t have to break their will in order for them to do what they wanted. And Kieran couldn’t agree more. He told Arthur about Branwen and that he never trusted anybody more than his horse. He told him about how he had found her as a young mare, kind and sweet but about to be put down for a simple injury on her leg as she wasn’t able to “make money” like this. Back then Kieran had pleaded with the owner to please let her go, that he would take her for free even if she couldn’t walk properly so the farmer didn’t have to waste a bullet on her. But the man had just laughed at him and sent him away. So Kieran had done what every reasonable horse lover would do - he had stolen Branwen away the next night and vanished with her.

When Kieran was done with his story Arthur had smiled at him in sympathy. It was something they could bond over - their passion and love for horses. And even if they looked fairly different, they had a lot of things in common. Both of them were never able to settle down anywhere. Chased away, running from the law, not belonging to anybody. But it made them belong together and so Kieran decided to run with him and help him train the horses.

Arthur was one of the kindest men Kieran had ever met - sure, he didn’t talk much and got a little loud when he drank (which he always did after they sold a horse) but he never insulted him, never made fun of him for being a little jumpy at times. He even took his time to teach Kieran how to read and write after Kieran had admired him for his pretty handwriting one day and admitted that he couldn’t read any of it.

Kieran caught himself staring at Arthur now and then as well. When he was concentrating on a task, cleaning his hunting rifle or speaking softly to one of the horses. Arthur was a beautiful man with the most amazing voice that Kieran has ever heard and blue eyes with the prettiest speckles of green when the sun hit them just right. Kieran had known that he fancied men but the longer he spent his time with Arthur the more he realized that falling in love with one was even a possibility. He didn’t just admire him for his body, didn’t just desire him … he just enjoyed his company and being with him in the simplest way. He didn’t dare confess anything to him, though. He knew what people did with men like him. And while Arthur was kind and caring, Kieran didn’t know what he thought about “queers”. So Kieran kept quiet and just stuck to his way of admiring him from a distance.

After they had sold Stripey they had made their way up north again because Arthur had heard that there was another Arabian up by Lake Isabella. A white one this time and it really sparked both of their interests. Kieran knew that it meant coming back to Valentine because it was the logical stop before the hike up north but Arthur promised him that he was a good shot and that he’d keep him safe (which made Kieran blush) so they did it.

Luckily they didn’t meet any of the van der Linde gang on their way through town or up the mountain. It was quite the hike and Kieran wondered if it was really worth the trip but when Arthur told him to join him up in his tent at night to keep each other warm with their body heat he stopped wondering about it and just agreed that yes, it was a fantastic idea to get up into the snow together.

When they finally found said horse Kieran was in awe. She was a beauty, her fur so white that they both almost hadn’t noticed her in the snow. Arthur called her Snowdrop. She was a piece of work though, wild at heart and not very trusty. Arthur even wondered if she had ever been mistreated by a person before because she was so skittish in the beginning but she didn’t bare any scars that indicated it.

They chose a different path down the mountain this time as Arthur had some “business” to attend in Strawberry. At first, Kieran was happy about it. He had been around the area before and had always found it rather pretty. But when they had made camp at the foot of Mount Shann everything changed.

“Oh, ain’t that good ol’ Kieran Duffy!” he heard coming from a line of trees. The sun already vanished so it was hard to see, especially after tending to the fire but Kieran recognized the voice immediately. It was the voice of Carter Jenkins, one of those who had always loved to bully him during his time at the O’Driscolls.

“Carter!”, Kieran yelled as he jumped up. “J-just leave us be! No need to shoot!”, he said as he saw the weapons in his and his companion’s hands. He wasn’t alone, in fact he was with 3 other people, all of whom Kieran recognized from his time with his former gang. Oh, this wasn’t good.

“Hmm, you know if you give us all your money and the horses … I might consider it. Though I’m sure Colm would love to see you himself. You know that he prefers to kill the traitors himself.”

Kieran’s eyes widened but before anybody could say anything else, Arthur had pulled out his gun and shot Carter right into his face. All eyes where on him for a second before the other two raised their guns at Arthur and shot. Kieran yelled out his name and tried to get between him and the others but he was too slow to get between them in time.

Arthur went down but so did the other three men. Kieran stared at them in surprise for a split second. Arthur had always told him that he was a good shot and Kieran had believed him. But three people, right through the heart in the matter of only a few seconds?

The thud of Arthur’s body hitting the ground pulled Kieran out of his thoughts and he crouched down next to Arthur to inspect his wounds. two of them were just minor graze wounds but one had shot right through his shoulder, blood seeping out of the wound and Arthur groaning loudly.

“Oh shit, oh shit .. Arthur! Stay with me!” Kieran said to him with his voice full of panic and distress. He didn’t know what to do so he just took off his shirt and pressed it down on the wound to stop the bleeding.

“Ain’t .. goin’ nowhere …”, Arthur moaned softly. “Just … gotta shut the wound …”, he said, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at Kieran. “Can you do that? Just .. some gunpowder and fire .. should do it …” Arthur’s eyes squeezed shut again, most likely from the pain.

“Gunpowder .. yes I ..”, frantically he looked around until he saw Arthur’s revolver in the dirt. He let go of his blood soaked shirt, got to the gun and pulled out one of the bullets. He had seen this way of shutting a wound once before. It wasn’t pretty and he knew that it hurt - but it was quicker than shutting it with a needle and threat. And the things he needed were far more available right now.

After he had ripped open the shirt around the wound he pried open the bullet with his teeth, poured the gunpowder into the wound and lit it on fire with a small, burning stick from the campfire. He jumped when the gunpowder caught fire, his nose full of the smell of Arthur’s burning flesh he had to gag as Arthur yelled out in pain before going still.

“Arthur?!” He waited for a response but there was nothing. For a few seconds he feared the worst but then he focused and realized that Arthur’s chest was still rising and falling. He was breathing. Alive. Shock had probably knocked him out, he had seen it before in people he had fought with side by side. He just had to keep him warm and protected during the night and then hopefully he would be awake the next morning.

So he set to work. He carefully dragged Arthur into the tent and put all the blankets that they had on top of him before he dug out a grave for the dead O’Driscolls. He knew that he didn’t have to but it felt wrong to just leave them lying outside. It was the right thing to do. And while Kieran knew that he wasn’t the greatest of men, he wanted to be honorable.

When he was done with the quick burial he went back into the tent. It had been a rather cool day during this early summer and the floor wasn’t the driest so he worried about Arthur. For a moment he hesitated but then he shut the tent as securely as he could and slipped under the blanket with Arthur. He hoped that Arthur would understand it the next morning - that he only did this to keep his body temperature up, to make sure that he would recover from the shot.

Kieran clung to Arthur that night, hugging him to make sure that he’d notice any shift or change in the other man. He prayed to whichever god would listen that Arthur would make it. He couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose the only human companion he ever trusted or cared about. Arthur had shown him kindness when nobody else would and had protected him from the monsters of his past, in more than just one sense. It wasn’t fair that he was the one lying in a tent with a shot wound. It should’ve been Kieran. But it seemed like yet another cruel joke of fate that it wasn’t him who had gotten hit. Just another good thing that might be taken from him. “You gotta make it…”, Kieran whispered as he got even closer to Arthur, listening to his weak breath and closing his eyes. “You will survive. You have to.”

Eventually he drifted off into a light sleep. Worry and adrenaline had worn him out so much that he was just too exhausted to stay awake, even if he knew that he should’ve. He still slept restless, dreams of the past and a dark future creeping up on him and keeping him worried all night, even in his sleep. He finally found rst in the early morning hours, awake but happy that Arthur was still breathing, still warm next to him.

Another hour passed and Arthur slowly stirred awake. Kieran sat up right away, looking down at the handsome man. He was beautiful like this. And when Arthur looked up at him, a smile on his face, Kierasn couldn’t help himself. “You’re alive”, he whispered before he bent down and kissed Arthur’s lips. Gentle and careful, but also full of joy to see the other alive. Shocked, he realized what he had done and pulled away, now staring down at Arthur who looked at him in confusion. “I- I’m sorry … I didn’t .. I … uh …”

Arthur’s features softened and he chuckled gently. “Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. Was wonderin’ when you’d finally do it”, he said and pulled Kieran down for another kiss.

#RDRRarepairWeek #RDR2 #Arthur/Kieran #Kierthur #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR #Fanfic #my fics #RDREvents #RDRsafehaven #First Kiss #dad writes

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abbysfrenchbraid · 4 years

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Kissed by a Wolf - Chapter 4

Masterlist 🌿 (check for previous chapters) / Playlist

In this chapter, the reader fully joins Eivor’s clan and takes part in the celebrations before the raid. Talking with Eda does not go as planned.

Content Warnings for food & alcohol, mentions of physical abuse, lesbophobia, light smut and vomit.

Inspo Picture by @anaakeart

The Sting of Rejection

You had already slept for a few hours when Eivor returned from her council meeting late at night. Even though she tried to be quiet and not to wake you, you were awake as soon as you heard her steps on the path outside.

Birna had curled up in your arms and raised her head when the warrior entered, not moving from her warm and comfortable spot. You remained still, your eyes closed as you listened to the woman’s movements. Her fur coat fell to the ground almost inaudibly, the wood of her trunk creaked quietly as she sat down to take off her boots, her leather pants rustled when she pulled them off and threw them in a corner.

Then you finally felt her motions, too as she lifted a corner of the quilt covering you and slipped in the bed, immediately scooting close to you. She gave Birna a few gentle strokes until the cat started to purr softly and Eivor lowered her head next to yours with a satisfied sigh. She smelled like beer and smoked meat, accompanied by that faint, wonderful scent of tree bark.

You must have stirred because Eivor lifted her head again, whispering: “Little bird… there are good news for you.”

Careful not to disturb Birna, you turned slightly and looked at her with raised eyebrows. She smiled.

“You are now one of us. Mine.” She watched your face attentively for a reaction. You closed your eyes and swallowed. So it was decided.

“Are you happy?” Eivor asked, drawing her fingertips over your healthy cheek.

“Yes, I am,” you answered, turning back around and scooting back against her.

“Mmhh. We’ll talk in the morn.” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, then you both drifted off to sleep.

You were woken by Birna's demanding meows at the door. She had not left the hut since yesterday and was probably hungry and in need of a quiet corner. Eivor grunted, then she untangled herself from your limbs and cursed in her mother tongue when she stumbled over her clothes on her way to let the cat out.

“You won’t like it outside, little lady. The snow has stayed,” she grumbled as she opened the door. Indeed, Birna was not amused at the prospect of stepping into the cold, wet powder that painted the village in beautiful white and whirled into the room as soon as the door stood ajar. You pulled the blanket over your head to escape the stinging cold air, listening to Eivor and Birna bicker about the cat’s options for the day.

It really sounded like they were having a conversation, one that ended with Birna leaving with a last, angry cry and Eivor shutting the door with a thankful sigh. She let herself fall back on the bed and crawled under the covers. You stuck your head out.

“So, I’m one of you now?”

Eivor needed a moment to process your question, then she sat up and nodded.

“The council was thankful for your offer to help us prepare the raid and accepted your proposal. You’re going to come with me later so you can have another look at the map and tell us everything you know. In return, you will receive a wooden bangle declaring you part of this clan and my personal servant as soon as we return.”

You sat up as well and leaned against the headboard, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as you tried to find the right words.

“I am very grateful for your trust. I know it normally does not come easy,” you said. “May I ask something else of you?”

The blonde raised her eyebrows with a questioning look.

“My- the people who came with me. How are they?”

“Oh, they are all well.” Eivor got up and started putting on her clothes. “Three of them have decided to stay with us freely and work in the stables and the longhouse. Two have yet to decide and your lady friend is refusing to speak to us. I hear she is eating, at least.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You were not the only one to change sides. You were fairly sure you knew who had taken up work in the village; the two remaining prisoners were probably the squires to Lord William. They had endured harsh treatment at his hands, but he had promised them a future as knights and held them in higher regard than his own daughters. It made sense that Eda was not willing to speak or change her mind. She blamed Eivor for the death of her entire family.

“Eivor?”

“Yes, little bird?”

“Do you think I could have a word with Eda? Maybe I can reason with her,” you suggested, holding your breath as you waited for her reaction. She considered it for a moment, then she shrugged and put on her coat.

“I guess it would do no harm. You can speak with her before we meet the others in the map room, maybe she will tell you something helpful.” She turned around. “Do you want to join me in the longhouse for breakfast?”

The question surprised you, but she was right. You were healing fast, and there was no reason for you to stay in bed any longer. You agreed and swung your legs out of bed, slipped into your wooden clogs and put on your new coat over the linen tunic. Hopefully, you would be able to acquire some more fitting and functional clothes soon, but now was not the time to worry about looks. Your face was still swollen and blue anyway, your bruises now starting to fade to green at the edges.

You quickly rubbed the salve Valka had given you on your tender cheek, then Eivor held the door open for you and you stepped outside into the snow. The air was hard and cold, but clear and when it filled your lungs, you could feel it chase out the last remains of smoke and illness. Walking down to the longhouse, two dogs ran toward you and circled you with excited barks and wagging tails, apparently delighted to see Eivor. She laughed and chased them around for a bit, then she told them she had other things to do and they let her be and ran off towards the stables.

When you entered the longhouse, Eivor was immediately greeted by cheers and excited comments regarding the coming raid. She smiled and acknowledged everyone’s words before leading you to a side part of the house. There was a fireplace in the center of the area, a hole in the roof directing the smoke outside. A kettle and a metal grid were hung over the fire and an old woman was stirring porridge with a gigantic wooden spoon. You both stepped closer.

“Sfáva, dette er Y/N,” Eivor introduced you, gently placing a hand between your shoulder blades. “She is from Williamsburg and has decided to join us. She is a cook, too."

The old woman slowly came closer, squinting her eyes at you until her face was almost directly beneath yours. Then she suddenly gave you a warm, almost toothless smile, deepening the crows’ feet around her eyes and stretching the leathery, weatherbeaten skin on her cheeks.

“Velkommen, Y/N,” she croaked and took your hand, patting it lightly. She chattered something in Eivor’s direction and the warrior translated: “She’s glad to have you here and hopes you can show her some English cooking. She does not speak your language, but she understands a few words and can grasp your meaning if you speak slowly. Our tongues are not too different.”

You smiled back at Sfáva, gently squeezing her hand.

“I’m honored to work by your side, Sfavá.”

The old cook let out a delighted laugh at your proper pronunciation of her name and gestured for you to take a wooden bowl. You and Eivor both took bowls and spoons from a table and Sfavá filled them with porridge. Eivor loaded up her meal with several sausages from the grill, to which you passed.

“I’m afraid we can’t eat together. My place is up there” - she mentioned to the table at the back of the room, standing orthogonal to the rest of the tables - “with my brother. I see your old companions have found themselves over there, maybe you would like to join them?” She motioned over to where the three men that had been released as well sat and ate their breakfast.

You nodded and wished the warrior a good morning, then you walked over and sat down with the others. Aelfric and Hal had been the stable masters back at Williamsburg and were excited about the variety of horses and possibilities here. Eivor had apparently put a lot of money and work into the stables, making them a much more enjoyable place than the dark, moldy ramshackle hut William’s old mares had spent their days in. Lewin was also content with his situation; he had joined the butcher and his son in preparing meat for winter.

They were all happy to see you, thanking you for your quick thinking and cautious behavior during and after the attack. Lewin was even convinced they owed you their lives. While they went on discussing the possibilities of hunting at this time of the year, you stared into your porridge and tried to find the words and the courage for a conversation with Eda.

What could you say that would explain to her your disloyalty to her name, your treachery to England, your betrayal against her after everything you had gone through together? How could you ever change her mind or her situation, what were your possibilities in this? Would she stay locked into a cell for the rest of her life? What would the Vikings do with her if she was nothing but a nuisance?

The others took their leave and you were still none the wiser. Absorbed in your thoughts, you let your gaze wander through the long hall. Your eyes finally got caught on the she-wolf at the elevated warriors’ table. She was deep in conversation with Sigmund and tapping her finger on the table as she made her point to him. He seemed to agree with everything she was saying, consistently nodding his head as he devoured his sausages.

Suddenly, Eivor caught your gaze and while she kept talking, her finger stayed pressed to the wooden tabletop. You could have sworn there was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned back to her brother to ask him something. Shaking your head, you got up and brought your empty bowl back to Sfáva’s side table.

Even though her eyesight seemed to be terrible, she immediately recognized you and repeated your name with a joyful fondness in her voice that made your heart swell in your chest. What a wonderful woman.

As you wandered around the hall to collect the dirty bowls people had left on the tables, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Smiling to yourself, you relished at the feeling a little bit longer before turning around to return Eivor’s look. To your surprise, she had stood up and turned her back to you, speaking with someone behind the table.

Slightly bewildered, you finished your round and carried the stash of bowls and spoons back to the cooking area. Just as you turned to ask Sfáva where you should wash the dishes, you saw something blue in the corner of your eye. You looked up and had to force yourself to keep your composure as you saw Randvi leaning against a wooden pillar across the hall and watching you from afar, her arms crossed and her face smooth and expressionless.

She did not move or look away when you saw her, standing perfectly still and continuing to look at you as you finally lowered your gaze and asked Sfáva about your tasks for the day. The old Viking explained her wishes to you with a mix of slow Norwegian and sign language, making it clear you should wash the bowls outside in a big trough and bring her another few sacks of flour. You felt uneasy as you left the longhouse to do your washing up, still followed by Randvi’s piercing gaze.

Eivor caught you outside, glad you had already settled in with your new work and thrilled for the raid. She was practically buzzing with excitement and her restlessness made you laugh, taking your mind off the strange moment with Randvi.

“What are you laughing at, eh? You are looking at a proud drengr, not a jester!” she exclaimed, furrowing her brows in feigned outrage and making you laugh even harder.

“You remind me of Eda and Delia on the eve before Christmas. They were so excited for the next morning, they could barely sleep.” Your gaze lost itself in the dirty water in the trough before you. You had some good memories with the two girls. They had been so innocent and happy. A hand on the small of your back drew you back to the present. Eivor had stepped closer.

“I will sleep like a bear in winter so long as you lie by my side,” she said quietly.

Her words and touch sent chills up your spine. Before you could reply, Eivor stepped back.

“But first, we will plan our glorious raid. And then we will celebrate. Oh Y/N, you will love it. Mead and food and great songs - we will be in good spirits tonight. And tomorrow will be even better!” Her eyes lit up at the thought of the joy and glory to come. “I need to look at a few things in the stables. Take this time to speak with your friend. I will come and get you when it is time to meet over the map.”

You watched her as she walked away, a spring in her step as she headed for the wooden building at the far end of the village. The dishes were clean, so you took them back inside and left them on the table for Sfáva. She was deep in conversation with two other Norse women when you filled another bowl with porridge and two sausages and quietly made your way to the cell in the back of the longhouse.

Eda sat on the floor where you had left her last. Her dress was dusty and stained, her hair was matted and her face looked grey and old. Dag, who was keeping watch again, let you in with a grumble and sat back down on his chair. Eda refused to look at you as you knelt down before her and offered her the food.

“Eda, please. You must eat. You look like death itself.”

“I don’t fear death,” she mumbled, still staring at her hands, “I fear traitors and backstabbing snakes.”

Her words knocked the air out of your lungs. You had not expected her to be this hostile. What now?

“I do not claim to know the pain you feel and the losses you are bearing. I am simply trying to live with dignity instead of wasting away,” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes. “Do you not see my face? Were you not there when I learned I was worth nothing at Williamsburg, nothing but dirt on your father’s shoe? Eivor has offered me a place in this world. She-”

“You and your precious Eivor!” Eda snapped, her gaze now burning right through your head and her face screwed up into a hateful grimace. “You fell to your knees the second you saw her, begging for her to take you. I will not be lulled into submission by a filthy little sapphic whore!”

This blow hurt worse than William’s fist. There was nothing left to say. You put the bowl down next to her, then you stood up and left the cell. Dag gave you a strange look when he locked the door again.

Just as you rounded the corner, you bumped into Eivor. She knew something was wrong right away, pulling you into her warm embrace and letting you cry into her chest for a long moment until she pulled back and lowered her head to look at you.

“What is it, my little bird? Will your friend neither soften nor think clearly?”

You just nodded and pressed your lips together, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. Eivor turned to look over her shoulder for a moment, then she pulled you into an alcove.

“You stay here and collect yourself. I will tell them you got held up and will be there soon.�� She pulled you in for a last, quick hug, then she vanished from sight.

You took a few deep breaths and slapped your chest and torso, trying to fully return to the present, to your body, and to your rational thoughts. If Eda wanted nothing more to do with you, so be it. You had other things to worry about now.

When you entered the map room there were five men waiting for you alongside Eivor and Randvi. One of them was Sigurd, Eivor’s brother and the official chief of her clan, even though you felt like a lot of people cared for Eivor more strongly. You had just found out today that he was also Randvi’s husband. The other four you had seen before but you did not know their names.

Eivor looked up from the map first, smiling widely and rounding the table to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. She was the cook at Williamsburg and has visited Fort Winton several times. She will tell us all she knows about the area and the castle.”

“What happened to your face, Y/N?” One of the warriors gave word to what everyone was thinking. You straightened up, trying to brace yourself against Randvi’s icy expression.

“Thank you for this opportunity to make myself useful here. My cheek made acquaintance with Lord William’s fist the day of your attack, but I am healing now and he is not, that is all that matters. And I have you to thank for it.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy everyone and you got to work. You spent the next hours telling them about every path and entrance to the castle you knew of, every person working there when you last visited, and everything about the Stewart that had taken over the shire. You even drew a plan of the order of the buildings and the rooms you knew of.

The Viking warriors warmed up to you quickly when they realized how much valuable knowledge you were giving them and even Randvi seemed to forget her hostility toward you after a while. The group even allowed you to stay for their debates on the right strategy, taking all your comments into consideration and thanking you for your help. Eivor reminded you at some point that you were still injured and told you to go back to the hut, put on the salve, and lay down. She would pick you up later for the feast.

Birna was already waiting for you at the door, mortally offended at having spent the day outside in the snow. She weaseled through the first crack in the door and was even more distraught when the fireplace was dead and the bed cold. You apologized sincerely and lit a fire to make Valka’s wonderful brew while you gently applied her salve to your healing cheek.

While your tea was steeping, you curled up with Birna and poured your heart out to her about Eda. She was a wonderful listener, snuggling up to you when you started crying and supporting your distraught words with agreeing meows. It was heartbreaking - the one friend you still had left did not want to be your friend anymore. You were all alone here. You had to admit that the Norse people were extremely welcoming to you and that Eivor would probably be very offended to hear you call yourself alone after two nights in her arms, but still. You were lonely. After you had drunk a cup of your herb infusion, you laid down, pulled Birna into your arms and cried yourself to sleep while the white cat silently watched over you.

A light grasp on your shoulder woke you and you opened your eyes to find Eivor crouching down before you, smiling softly at you. It was already dark outside and you had trouble finding your grasp on reality for a moment. Was it the next day? No. The feast.

Your mouth was dry and your eyelids felt heavy from crying. Eivor softly brushed the hair out of your face with her fingers.

“Good evening, little bird. Can I interest you in some excellent boar meat and warm mead?”

Birna answered in your stead, crying out as she stretched her little body on top of you. Eivor’s expression became even softer.

“For you, little lady, I have something special.” She took a small balled up bundle from her pocket and opened the stained cloth to reveal some fresh innards, probably taken from the boar. She placed the cloth on the ground in front of the fireplace and Birna jumped down from the bed to have her own royal feast.

You got up and followed the cat's example in stretching your limbs, feeling Eivor’s eyes on you as you put on your shoes and cloak and tried to comb your hair with your fingers. The blonde was next to you at once, holding your hands still.

“Wait. Let me.”

She opened her wooden chest and produced a beautiful wide-tooth comb. It was made from some kind of bone or fang. The warrior stood behind you and gently pulled all your hair back towards her. Then she began combing it out, starting at the bottom of each strand and carefully moving upwards, taking out any knots or dirt. Her fingers touched your scalp every time she took a new strand of hair, sending lightning down your spine and making the hair on your neck stand up.

“That’s better. I can braid it for you, too, if you’d like that,” Eivor said behind you. You brushed a hand over your long hair and felt its smoothness. You had never been allowed to wear your hair down at Williamsburg, always having to put it up in a knot and wear a bonnet or at least a cap. Today you had seen so many Viking women proudly wearing their hair down, some with intricate little braids and beads in theirs.

“I’d like that, yes,” you whispered, scared your voice would betray you. Every day, every hour here felt like a step closer to freedom and happiness.

“Sit down on the bed.” The blonde gently guided you to sit at the foot of the mattress so she could stand next to you. Then she began taking hair from your healthy side and braiding it along the hairline around your ear and down the back of your neck. She stepped around you to look at her work from the front.

“I think that is all you need. You’re beautiful.”

Your heart jumped into your throat, almost making its way onto your tongue. Your fingers followed the path of the small braid, admiring the perfect work of the warrior’s calloused hands. How peculiar, that these rough hands that wielded swords and axes bigger than your head could also be so gentle and precise.

A knock on the door tore you out of your reverie. It was Valka who wanted to take a look at your face and pick you both up for the feast. She was satisfied with your healing process and delighted to see Birna, having a little chat with the cat on the bed. You had to keep yourself from laughing when the thought of Birna being the true queen of this clan entered your head. She probably felt that the same way. The white cat was adored by everyone, and her demands were followed without question.

As the three of you made your way down to the longhouse, you could already hear loud singing and laughter. People were stumbling outside to relieve themselves in the bushes and others were just arriving, all being greeted with loud cheers and big jugs of mead. The same happened to you when you entered the great hall. A few warriors rushed to your side, greeting Eivor and paying you compliments and thanks for your help that day. Enthusiasm saturated the air like a humid day, filling everyone with joy and confidence for tomorrow.

Valka was quick to take the jug of ale from your hands and gave it to someone else who swore his love to her in return. She just smiled and pulled you towards the kitchen area. You had already lost Eivor in the mass of warriors jeering and singing praise to Odin. At the hearth fire, you met Sfáva sitting on a bench and enjoying a massive pitcher of mead. She cried out in joy when she saw you and hugged Valka tightly in greeting before squeezing your hands and grinning her almost toothless smile at you.

Valka asked you to stay with the older woman for a while and help her with the food; then you saw her talk to a red-haired woman and vanish in a dark corner with her. Maybe that was the woman she had spoken about with Eivor before? You wished her the best of luck.

There was not too much to do. The boar was on a spit over the great fire in the main hall and the men were responsible for cutting down the meat for everyone. You were grilling sausages and vegetables on the side and helping the boys open new barrels of ale that were consistently emptied within the hour.

Eivor came by soon, asking for more variety on her plate. It was obvious that she had already had enough mead to kill a boar, slightly swaying when she walked and getting extremely close when she tried to talk to you over the noise in the hall. Her face was red and radiating heat, her eyes had a drunk glisten to them and her laugh was rougher and dirtier than during the day. You were glad she was enjoying herself, although you could not help but wonder if this was the best idea considering her plans for tomorrow.

You spent some time outside cleaning plates at the trough and getting fresh air when you suddenly heard a noise around the corner. You debated for a moment whether you should risk a look but your curiosity got the best of you. As you stuck your head around the edge of the house, you weren’t immediately sure what you saw before you.

Two figures were leaning against the wall in close embrace, chuckling and mumbling sweet nothings to each other. As a cloud finally freed the moon and its light shone down on your village, you made out Valka’s golden headdress and the silhouette of the red-haired woman she had talked to earlier. Apparently, she had gotten lucky. You quietly moved back to your plates and smiled to yourself. Valka was a wonderful person, giving and loving and always putting others’ needs above hers. Eivor had spoken very highly of her trusted friend. She deserved to be happy.

When you came back inside and put the plates back on the sideboard in the cooking area, you noticed Eivor sitting at the front table surrounded by her men. And oh - there was Randvi sitting next to her. The two of them were leaning toward each other, their heads almost touching as they laughed about something Sigurd had said. It seemed that they had talked about their difficulties and made up.

You let yourself fall on the bench next to Sfáva and she patted your thigh, holding out her pitcher to signal it was empty. With a sigh, you got up to get her more mead and made yourself a plate of vegetables from the grid, seeing as you had not eaten since breakfast. Sfáva noticed you had not taken any meat and insisted you go get some boar meat. Upon the realization that she would not let you sit down again until you had tried the boar, you slowly went over to the big fire, hoping no one would notice you. The warrior there cut you a generous piece and you were almost back in your dark corner when someone called your name. God, no.

Aelfric, Hal, and Lewin were sitting at a table with some other stable boys and young maids. You gave Sváfa an apologetic wave which she answered with a loud, heartfelt laugh, then you made your way to your old companions. The boar was better than you had expected and you really were terribly hungry, wolfing down your food at an indecent speed and even going back for another portion. The others were talking about the two squires still sat in the cell; they were sure they would come around by the next morning. Who would really prefer the cold ground over these celebrations and the wonderful food that was shared fairly between everyone?

Looking over to the table at the back of the hall you could see Eivor and her friends conversing loudly, laughing and slapping each other's backs. At one point Dag danced on the table, but he soon lost his footing and went down in a wave of plates, jugs, rattling metal, and the yells of his fellow warriors. You stared at Eivor for a while, hoping she would return your gaze, but she was completely immersed in her conversation and never even looked up from her table. You finished your meal quietly, listening to the others talking about a new dice game they had learned and about a filly at the stable that was born in late autumn, a strange and dangerous time for newborns in the animal world. Together, they were sure they would get it through the winter safe.

Later you returned to Sfáva and leaned against the wall opposite her, warming yourself up by the fire and keeping an eye on Eivor, who was apparently in another drinking contest with one of her men. Randvi had her hands on Eivor’s shoulders and was cheering her on. A small figure stepped next to you, crossing her arms and following your gaze. Valka had returned.

You made no attempt to hide your feelings, you knew she had already seen through you. The healer put an arm around your waist and shook you slightly, looking up at you with a sympathetic expression.

“I know you saw us, Y/N.” The words took a moment for you to grasp their meaning, then you turned to Valka in surprise.

“Oh God, I swear I will keep your secret. I am a master at keeping my mouth shut.”

The smaller woman had to smile at your nervous reaction.

“I trust you. I am glad it was you that caught us and not someone else.”

“May I ask…” you hesitated, “what is going on between you?”

Valka turned her head to look at the singing warriors in the hall. There was a pain in her eyes that felt just too familiar.

“She is married. It was not her choice, but her father’s way of forging an alliance. Her husband is one of the hunters and away most of the time. When he beat her badly the first time, she came to me.”

The silence between you was heavy with meaning. When she began to speak again, her words grabbed your feet and pulled on them, getting heavier and heavier until you began to wonder why the earth had not opened underneath you and swallowed you whole.

“I know you wonder what happened between Eivor and Randvi. It is neither my place nor my ability to tell you everything, but I will say this, for fairness’s sake and because I think you already know in your heart. There was once love between them. Whether it still lives on, I cannot tell. But Eivor has told me that she is ready to leave this bond behind her because she feels something new, something far deeper and more intensive is coming. That is why she has pursued you. She felt something deeper the moment she met you.”

Valka turned to you and you fought to at least turn your feet so you could face her. Everything was spinning around you. The dark-haired woman gently placed her hands on either side of your neck and looked deep into your eyes.

“Follow your heart, Y/N. The gods will lead you. They have decided your destiny long before you were born.”

After recommending you should get some sleep, Valka left you frozen in place and dizzy. The noise that filled the room was now nothing but a single loud booming voice threatening to split your head. You needed to get some air. Maybe your bed was really the best idea.

You looked around for Eivor, but she had vanished from sight. It did not matter, you would find your way into her arms later one way or another. You said your goodbyes to Sfáva and the other servants, then you finally exited the longhouse and inhaled the cool night air.

Rounding the corner toward your hut, you were suddenly startled by a noise that sounded like an animal crying out. Maybe a cat? You tiptoed around the dark cottage to your right and suddenly stopped dead in your tracks.

Your heart dropped to your feet and all the blood left your face.

Eivor had pressed her brother's wife to the wooden wall and was kissing her passionately while her hands explored Randvi’s body under her tunic. They were so immersed that they had not heard you coming. You could not move, your feet suddenly weighing you down like boulders again.

The blonde’s knee was between the other woman’s legs and Randvi spread them for her lover, moaning into her mouth. As Eivor started attacking her neck with kisses, the auburn-haired woman opened her eyes and looked directly at you. The surprise in her gaze was almost unnoticeable, fading quickly to be replaced by malicious pleasure as she continued to stare at you while whining Eivor’s name and burying her fingers in the warrior’s hair.

Finally, your muscles started to work again. You turned on the spot and quietly made your way to Eivor’s hut. You felt sick. Closing the door behind you, you kicked your shoes under the bed and threw your coat into the corner. The cat on Eivor's pillow just gave you a questioning look.

“Oh Birna, if only you knew.” You threw yourself on the bed next to her, then you started bawling for the second time today. You cried until there was not a single tear left and you felt completely empty inside. Then you scooted close to the edge of the bed, turning your back to Eivor’s side, and tried to fall asleep.

Even though you fell into a state of absence, sleep would not come. Dread filled you when you heard teps at the door. But before Eivor could enter, you heard her cough and retch, probably throwing up into the thorny bushes a few steps from the door. A slight feeling of righteousness overcame you but it quickly disappeared again, leaving only misery and desperation.

When the warrior finally entered, you could hear her stumble through the room and curse under her breath as she hit her foot on the bed frame. She seemed to only take off her coat and let it fall to the floor before lying down next to you and falling asleep in an instant. A part of you had still hoped for her arms around you, despite everything. Now you could hear her ragged breathing and smell the smoke and alcohol on her hair and breath.

The tears came again and you silently cried into your pillow while the warrior slept soundly next to you, oblivious to your sorrow. Only Birna proved her loyalty to you by getting up from Eivor’s side of the bed and rolling up in the crook of your bent knees.

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you were woken the next morning by another salve of mumbled curses. It was still grey outside, dawn had only just begun. You stayed completely still and listened to Eivor dress herself and collect her weapons and shield from her trunk.

To your surprise, the warrior suddenly walked around to your side, crouched down, and lightly stroked your hair.

“Have a good day, my little bird. I will bring you honor and victory today,” she whispered, then she stood up and swiftly left the hut.

Let me know what you thought ❤️ (it’s okay if you hate me, I promise I’ll make it up to you in the next chapters)

#eivor x reader #lady eivor #f!eivor #f!eivor x reader #lady eivor x reader #eivor fanfiction #ac valhalla #assassinscreedvalhalla #fluff #angst #im so sorry for the pain im putting you through #but it will be worth it in the end #never thought writing angst would be this much fun

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violetrose-art · 3 years

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Corpse Bride Headcannons, Theories, and Ideas

This is just a list of the theories, headcannons, and ideas I came up with for Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. I might add more later on, so watch out

-Victor and Victoria were born and raised in a small English village close to the Atlantic Ocean called Burtonsville

-Victor’s full name is Victor Ichabod Van Dort

-When he was about four years old, Victor found Scraps as a mixed-breed puppy in an alleyway. Nell and William refused at first, but William saw how his son quickly became attached to the dog, so he let him stay. Sadly, when Victor turned eight, Scraps was brutally mauled and tragically killed while trying to defend his beloved owner from a bigger, nastier dog

-Victor’s favorite toy as a child was a stuffed horse he called Usher. He begged his mother to let him keep Usher until he was fourteen

-Victor learned to play the piano when he was about five years old. He was a fast learner and he picked up on it very quickly, and his tutor was greatly impressed by his skill. His favorite musicians are Mozart and Beethoven

-Victor works as an artist to draw many types of butterflies for the Lepidoptera Community, as well as a professional pianist. Originally, his father wanted him to work as a fish merchant and take over the family business, but Victor politely told him “no thanks” because he wanted to follow his own dreams. William was disappointed, but deep down he wanted his son to be happy. So he usually encouraged him, especially when Nell wasn’t around

-Outside from his butterfly works, Victor does paintings during his free time at home. The color theory that he studied was written by Eugene De La Croix· Victor has been drawing since he was a child. His favorite things to draw are animals, butterflies, and other insects. He also does landscapes and people sometimes. He also likes to write sometimes, mostly a few poems and a couple musical compositions. Nothing he took too seriously, though. He also likes to sing when he thinks he’s alone

-In his childhood, Victor used to have a somewhat regular playmate named Humphrey. They were almost friends, but when William’s business became very successful and Victor’s family became rich when Victor was about eleven, Humphrey stopped coming over and the two boys haven’t seen each other since

-When he was a boy, he learned how to speak French because his mother thought it was “high-class” to be bilingual. Victor was diligent in his studies and thus has a good knowledge of spoken and written French. He may not be perfectly fluent, but he can carry on a decent conversation

-Victor is severely allergic to walnuts and poison oak

-Victor had a cousin named Mary whom he was very fond of, but she passed away when she was seventeen and he was six. She got lost in the woods and was attacked and devoured by a pack of wolves

-Victor doesn’t drink anything more than the occasional glass of champagne or wine. The reason? Mayhew once got him drunk and it turns out Victor is a CHATTY drunk. As in, he’ll tell you his life story at the slightest provocation. Victor was so embarrassed when he sobered up that he nearly swore off all alcohol forever. It’s very unlikely he’ll ever knowingly get wasted again· After he and Victoria were finally married, Victor gained confidence and he stood up against Victoria's parents earning him some respect

-Victor HATES smoking. He was secretly offered a cigarette from Mayhew when he was fourteen and after the first inhale, he was coughing and gagging so much that he nearly threw up

-Victor is the tallest member of the Van Dort family, making him stand out quite a bit during family reunions

-He may not be a sporty person, but Victor enjoys cycling. He also loves a good game of chess

-Victor adores reading. His favorite writers are William Blake, Charles Baudelaire, Lewis Carroll, Edgar Allan Poe, and William Shakespeare

His favorite books are “Les Miserables”, “Dracula”, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “The Fall of the House of Usher” and other works by E.A. Poe. The play/book that he hates the most is “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” because he strongly dislikes this style of a love triangle in the plot line. He also has a fascination with penny dreadful. Yes, he knows the serial stories are really nothing but lowest common denominator trash, but he loves them anyway. He got hooked on them as a teenager thanks to Mayhew’s nephew, and he used to keep a secret stash under his mattress

-When she still rather young, Victor noticed that his daughter, Emily, became very interested in music, so he taught her how to play the piano as well as the violin

-Victoria was the one who taught her son, Edward, how to read and they bond over books and stories they both enjoy

-The worst day of Victor’s life happened about three weeks after Scraps died. Victor’s parents had some business friends over for tea, and forced a still-grieving Victor to come down and be social. Poor Victor made a bad impression, being quieter and clumsier than normal, culminating in knocking over one man, tripping his wife, and insulting said wife’s coat in apologizing. Nell, humiliated and enraged, turned on her son once the guests were off, screaming at him about what an embarrassment he was while they were still standing on the front steps. Victor was so horrified, embarrassed, and depressed that he came too close to taking his own life. He got his hands on his father’s straight-razor, snuck into the bathroom, and actually had it to his neck when a noise from outside the bathroom spooked him and he dropped the razor and ran back to his room as fast as he could. Fortunately, the distraction gave him time to realize suicide wouldn’t fix anything, and he made a promise to himself never to stoop that low again. His parents also apologized the next day, which helped a lot. Victor avoids telling anyone about it unless he feels he has to, certain they’ll think less of him for it

-Victor was born June 9th, 1867

-Victoria’s full name is Victoria Elizabeth Everglot

-When she was very little, Victoria had always wanted a pet (like a cat or a small dog) but her mother said that having a pet in the house was uncivilized and improper and that all animals were filthy and uncouth creatures

-Victoria’s favorite hobby is sewing and knitting. She often designs most of her husband’s clothes and others in her spare time

-As a child, Victoria tried to be closer to her parents, but often found the family maid Hildegarde as more of a mother figure

-Victoria loves to read in her spare time… even though most people call it scandalous for a woman to do such a thing. Her mother even said reading was too passionate for a young lady. At a young age, Hildegarde, taught Victoria how to read (something her parents never found out about)

-Her favorite books are “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”, “A Christmas Carol”, and any classic fairy tale. And her favorite writers are Charles Dickens, Lewis Carroll, Charles Perrault, Hans Christian Andersen, and the Brothers Grimm

-Victoria’s favorite toy as a child was a china doll she called Miss Liddie. By the time she was about eleven, she had grown out of it. Even though she knows she’s too old for toys now, she still misses Miss Liddie

-Victoria isn’t allergic to anything, but she does tend to sneeze if dust is in the air

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was nearly trampled by a horse-drawn carriage, which made her develop a slight fear of horses

-Victoria likes to sing whenever she thinks she’s alone. She doesn’t believe it, but she has a surprisingly lovely singing voice

-When she was a little girl, Victoria was entranced by the piano in her house and she immediately wanted to learn how to play but her mother had told her daughter many times that music was improper and too passionate for a young lady. But Victor always tells his wife that music is a wonderful way to express oneself and that he would be more than happy to teach her how to play

-Victoria used to have a regular playmate named Gwyneth in her girlhood. They were good friends, but when Victoria reached her pre-teen years, Gwyneth stopped coming over to play for some reason and she never heard from her since

-Victoria is the most beautiful member of the Everglot family

-When she was in her early teens, Victoria secretly dreamed of becoming a writer someday

-Victoria was born February 3rd, 1868

-Victor and Victoria had two children. Their names are Emily Alice Van Dort (age 15) and Edward Daniel Van Dort (age 10)

-When Victor and Victoria were married, they moved out of their parents houses and bought a beautiful two story house that sat at the edge of a large meadow that was right next to the forest… plus, the house was a good mile or so away from Burtonsville

-The Corpse Bride’s full name is Emily Charlotte Cartwell

-Emily was born into a wealthy family. Her parents, Lord and Lady Cartwell, couldn’t say ‘no’ to their daughter and they practically gave her everything she asked for, so she became incredibly spoiled, selfish, and incredibly naïve· Emily was a hopeless romantic, often spending time reading romance novels and daydreaming about her wedding when she was alive

-When she was alive, Emily was blonde

-When she made it to Heaven, Emily was finally reunited with her mother and father

-When their daughter disappeared, Lord and Lady Cartwell were so sad and depressed that they wasted away and passed away in their sleep

-Before ascending, Emily considered Bonejangles to be one of her best friends. They used to sing and dance together all the time. He even taught her how to play the piano

-When she was alive, Emily knew how to ride horses. She even had a pet white mare she called Aphrodite

-Emily Cartwell died at age eighteen

-Lord Barkis’s full name is Barkis Finbar Campbell Bittern

-Emily met Lord Barkis while she was on an outing with her parents. Her parents had their backs turned while Emily was talking with Barkis. After only a few minutes of talking, she was instantly smitten with him and she accepted his immediate proposal of marriage… and her mother and father were not happy about it at all. Emily and her father had a huge fight and she decided to elope with Barkis… but for her, it didn’t go as planned

-Barkis told her that if they were going to be together, they would need money. Emily wasn’t sure, but in the end, she agreed

-On the night she was running away, Emily stole not only her mother’s wedding dress, veil, gloves, and best shoes, but she also stole the jewels from her mother’s jewelry box and a large bag of gold from her father’s office

-As Emily was waiting for her fiancé that night, Barkis snuck up behind her, stabbed her, knocked her out cold, took all of her money and jewels, and buried her alive. She woke up in a shallow grave and tried to claw her way out before suffocating to death. That's why her hand was sticking out of the ground

-Barkis was married six times in his life. He and his first wife were married out of love until he found her cheating on him and killed her. The second was an elderly widow for her money. The third one got away before he could even hurt her, but she drowned herself in a deep, rushing river. The fourth was a drunken lonely woman who “accidentally” fell out of a two story window. The fifth being Emily and the sixth being Victoria

-In the Land of The Dead, Barkis was brutally beaten and ripped apart before he was imprisoned in an iron coffin chained seven feet underground with other criminals like him for all eternity

-After he ran away, Barkis studied linguistics in French, Latin, German, and Russian in order to impress others… or use different fake accents to fool them with

-Barkis’s original first name was Bradford and he had a rough upbringing. His father was a violent alcoholic and his mother was a reckless prostitute and they both abused Bradford as a child until he ran away from home at age sixteen and changed his name to Lord Barkis

-Barkis has a twin sister who had a son named Hector. Hector greatly looked up to his uncle and when he heard about what happened to Barkis, he was taken aback, but he also felt he could use that to his advantage. When he turned 30, Hector came to Burtonsville to exact revenge on the Van Dort family… but he also developed a vile infatuation with Emily. Whenever he tries to woo the young girl (which always fails since Emily finds him repulsive and cruel), Victor gladly steps in the way every time and he always sternly tells Hector to stay away from his daughter

-Mrs. Van Dort’s full name is Eleanor Minerva Fitzackley Van Dort

-Nell came from a lower class family. She lived with her father, mother, and three sisters. However, Nell wasn’t happy with her place in society and she wanted to became something more

-Nell and William first met when she was caught in the rain one stormy day and he offered her a ride home in his fish merchant carriage. She declined at first, but quickly gave in when it started to bucket down. As they rode together, they started chatting and soon became very interested in one another

-Nell and William made their way back to the village just in time to witness Emily's soul disappear into the night as a swarm of blue butterflies

-When she learned about Mayhew’s death, Nell quietly wept in her room about it. She might be overbearing, but deep down, she truly does care for the ones closest to her. She also adores her husband and son, even if she does find them a bit irritating. She just has a hard time showing her emotions

-Mr. Van Dort’s full name is William Oscar Van Dort

-William loves talk about fish and his business, he always tries to weasel in the topic whenever possible to his wife and son's annoyance

-William used to take Victor on fishing trips when he was younger, which practically bored Victor to death

-While he tends to be the more passive one in their relationship, William does put his foot down when the situation calls for it

-It may not seem like it, but William adores Victor and he tries to do whatever he can to be there for his son

-When Victor turned sixteen, William gave him a silver pocket watch with a design of a fish on the front and his initials

-Lady Everglot’s full name is Maudeline Hortense Glottberg Everglot

-Maudeline and Finis didn’t plan on having a child in the first place and Victoria came as more of a surprise

-Maudeline had a sister named Marie who loved playing the piano. They didn’t get along in their youth and they drifted apart as they grew up. Maudeline wasn’t even invited to Marie’s wedding to Lord Frederick Cartwell

-When Marie died, she left her piano to her sister, but Maudeline never touched it. She felt it brought back too many memories and forbade Victoria from going near it was well

-Lord Eveglot’s full name is Finis Augustus Everglot

-While he was disappointed in not having a son, Finis deeply cares for his daughter. He just doesn’t know how to show it

-Even though they’re not good at sharing their feelings, Maudeline and Finis do care for each other to some extent

-Hildegarde has lots of grandchildren and she visited their home in the countryside as often as she could before she passed away

-When he was alive, Bonejangles was a freelance jazz musician from America and his original name was Dexter. He was finishing a gig in England when he died in a horrible carriage accident (he was run over), which also caused him to lose his eyeball

-General Bonesapart and General Wellington were actually General Napoleon Bonaparte and English General Wellington, two real historical figures. However, even though they hated each other at first, they became real pals eventually

-Although they don't say it out loud, people in Burtonsville make fun of Maudeline's hair cut, calling her names like "Rump Head" or "Hairmungus"

-Elder Gutknecht is one of the many Afterlife Lords, responsible for managing the dead after they pass. Among them include God, the Devil, King Vince, Hades, Hel, Osiris, Odin, Freya, and, the Hindu God Yama

-The Underworld is actually thousands of miles underground and due to the magic surrounding it. Mortals can't access it unless they die themselves

-After his death, Mayhew kicked the habit of smoking altogether and is very glad he did

-Elder Gutknecht has a fearsome Hellhound by the name of Infernius, his fierce and ever loyal pet. He guards the entrance to the Land of the Dead and can breathe fire that heats up to 900 degrees

-The fellow who was cut cleanly in half was an English gentleman by the name of Herman, who lived in Burtonsville years before. He ended up meeting his death due to an accident involving a rather large guillotine

-Generals Bonesapart and Wellington are the leaders of army of the Land of the Dead, but are only called into combat in times of great peril

-The people of Burtonsville sometimes call Lord Everglot “Everglut” behind his back

-Victoria has a cousin by the name of Dolores. Dolores is something of a freeloading con artist who moved to America when she left home. She considers herself a very attractive woman, but she just wears too much makeup and rather revealing clothes and is actually rather sleazy in reality. She also smokes, which Victoria and the rest of the Everglots are strongly against

-When he was alive, Elder Gutknecht used to be a wise sage that helped people in their time of need. He passed away when he reached the age of 102

-The Everglots were a family of nobles with a significant amount of money, but due to a bit of excessive gambling (by Dolores), they lost almost everything

-Almost every member of the Everglot family is rather ugly due to bad genetics. Victoria considers herself very, VERY lucky to have not inherited such genes (she unknowingly received her natural beauty from her late Aunt Marie)

-Pastor Galswells was raised in a strict environment. He was taught that kindness was weakness and to be stern and firm with everyone. He passed away shortly after the official wedding of Victor and Victoria and a new pastor took his place. His name is Pastor Ivan Blackthorp and he’s much kinder and friendlier than Galswells ever was

-The reason Victor named his dog Scraps was because he only ate table scraps

-The people of Burtonsville have a secret inside joke about the squatty walk Finis Everglot does where they assume that he would jump like a toad and snatch up a fly at any moment

-Burtonsville is well known for its raven population and there's an old legend saying they're messengers to the Land of the Dead

-For some weird reason, William Van Dort is known to mutter the words "Fishy, fishy, fish" in his sleep and it honestly creeps Nell out

-Paul, the decapitated head waiter, was actually a French man who served Marie Antoinette during her reign. Unfortunately, he was unjustly executed by association with the queen when the French Revolution broke out and he was never able to find his body after he died

-Several people have assumed Maudeline's hair is an actual wig and she's bald under it… only to be mistaken, resulting in a whooping

-Lord Barkis was a master of disguise in life and was never caught by the police as a result

-The Underworld has a prison known as the Iron Tomb and it holds some pretty infamous inmates who include Bluebeard, Caligula, Henry VIII, Mary I of England, and many more

-The Town of Burtonsville was actually built on an ancient burial ground, which is possibly why the Land of the Dead is connected to it

-After her death, Emily was made the official guardian angel of the Van Dort family

This is all I've got so far, but feel free to tell me what you think and tell me which one is your favorite

#corpse bride #Tim Burton

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stories-by-rie · 3 years

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Chapter 2 - Heart of Silver

Four years before Evelyn gets herself cursed, she meets Ariel for the first time; and a second time, featuring a stinky Mare.

words: 2665 || masterlist

It had all started in a club. It was a tiny one, close to the university, with mostly students working and partying there. For many, it was both a good way to earn a bit on the side, and to get the mind off nearing exams. The music was mostly pop, with some nichey songs in between, mixed in a way where no one could really complain.

For Evelyn, it simply was too loud. She could feel the bass in her heart. The room’s air was hot and heavy, and smelled like alcohol and sweat. People were screaming over the music, laughing, possibly also being aggressive.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

Mareike wrote, just leave, come over to mine instead, we’re having chocolate cake and watching old horror movies.

With a sigh, Evelyn typed her answer, I promised Kyla, I should at least stay a full hour. She held onto her first beer, but people pushed from all sides, so she slipped up anyway and felt the grip on her bottle lessen. Really, in such situations one had to set priorities, so she focused on the bottle, stumbled over someone else’s foot, and saw her phone fall to the ground. Over the loud noise, she didn’t hear it hit the ground, but she flinched nonetheless.

“Very sorry!” she yelled to whoever she had run into without even looking up, eyes on the ground. As she reached out to it, she saw her hand shaking slightly. Too much noise and too many people.

Her phone buzzed on the ground, the blue light showing her just where to reach.

“Broken?” A voice asked and when Evelyn looked at her phone, it indeed had a thin line running through the display.

“Just the display, I hope. Sorry, again.”

“No problem. You should have stuck with simple mobile phones, they don’t break that easily.”

Evelyn finally looked at the person who held a flip-phone in one of their hands, an alarmingly blue cocktail in the other that was only overshadowed by the bright blue of their hair.

“That’s so 2009,” was all Evelyn could say which was not a good thing for small-talk, but she blamed it on her anxiety or the alcohol.

“You don’t look like you want to be here,” the person said, tilting their head in a way that made the colourful lights reflect in their glasses for a moment.

“I really, really don’t want to be here.”

“Then why are you?”

“My… my friends are somewhere-” she pointed in the general direction of the dance floor where it was impossible to single out any familiar faces in the mass of dancing people.

“Ah,” was all the other said. For some reason, Evelyn was certain she was understood despite her stammering.

“I’m Evelyn,” she mumbled, ignoring the buzzing in her hand again. She wasn’t sure if she would meet the other again, if in any way exchanging names would matter. But she felt compelled to.

“Ariel. I use they/them pronouns, if you were wondering.”

Evelyn replied with a smile. She had been wondering.

“That’s a nice name.”

“Thanks, I chose it myself.” Ariel grinned and drank a bit of their cocktail.

And -- really, this could only be blamed on Evelyn’s anxious state paired with the alcohol -- she blurted out, “Ariel as in the Little Mermaid?”

Ariel nearly choked on their drink and shook their head. “Curses, no!” Even if they looked a bit amused and somewhat quieter, though enough to be heard, they added, “Ariel as in the Sylph in The Tempest by Shakespeare.”

Evelyn smiled and put the phone in her jeans pocket, held onto the bottle in her hand instead.

“Why are you here?” she then asked, even if it was probably a dumb question. Most people did come to party after all, but Ariel seemed to have come on their own and at least that was a bit unusual.

“I am glad you asked. I heard there’s a Mare living in the air vent in the restrooms. I came to kick it out.”

“By yourself?” Evelyn nearly dropped her beer again.

“Well, I hoped I would run into someone who is better with those creature thingies than me, but if this turns out to be fruitless, I am willing to drag the Mare out with my own hands.”

“Don’t do that! A Mare is much stronger than you and would cling to you instead! You would not even notice, just feel the pressure on your chest and suffer tremendously from bad dreams every night- that’s- that’s really not how you’re supposed to handle Mares!” Evelyn had spoked too fast, stumbled over her own tongue in haste to keep Ariel from making a mistake, and only now that she saw their -- victorious? -- grin, did she notice what she said. It felt as if she had walked straight into a trap.

“Sounds a bit like you know your fair share.” The way Ariel said it, they did not sound in the least surprised.

“You knew.”

“What are you in for again?”

“Psychology.” Evelyn took a step back, clutching her beer tighter.

Ariel followed her, narrowing their eyes. “Liar.”

“I studied Mythology and Mystical Practices before, but I didn’t graduate, so it doesn’t mean anything.”

“You still have the knowledge, though.” Ariel looked smug, sipping on their cocktail and Evelyn knew that they wouldn’t relent. But it really was not in her place to help.

“If there is a Mare in the vent, you should notify the building’s janitor, so that they can then call a company that specialises in this. The insurance might not cover the victims’ therapy if the whole situation isn’t handled following the book, so. Please, really, don’t mess with it. Sometimes it’s better to just leave these things alone.”

Nausea spread in her stomach. It was time to go. She really had indulged her friends for long enough, wherever they might be amusing themselves. Her heart beat in an unsteady rhythm, calling for sleep or distractions. She turned around, looking at the green exit sign, but Ariel kept talking.

“I already did notify the janitor, but he didn’t take me seriously. So I then contacted the owner, but he would not even talk to me. That’s why I decided to take the matter into my own hands and you will help me.”

“I absolutely will not.” The thought alone made her skin itchy, made the air in the club even harder to breathe. She looked down at her phone, several messages demanding to be read. She quickly unlocked it and opened the group chat.

I’ll head home, hope you still have some fun! Had a nice evening ^^

To Mareike’s messages of, r u home yet? just send an emoji that ur fine, she replied with a sparkles emoji.

“I’ll go,” she said, looking up to Ariel, but they were already gone. A hint of guilt crept into her bones – maybe she had been too harsh? But her heart beat so fast it made her cheeks feel hot, so she really needed fresh air. She put down her beer on a nearby table and fought her way through the sweaty bodies until she saw the night sky above her. The summer heat was not much better.

The second time she met Ariel was roughly two weeks after their first encounter, on campus during lunch time. Ariel was sitting – lounging – on a bench under some birches. The small leaves were barely enough to provide shelter from the staggering sun. Evelyn really just noticed them because their iced coffee fell right out of their hand, rolling all the way down to her feet.

“You lost something,” Evelyn said and held out the cup to them. She felt more than uncomfortable the longer she stood there, but she had started it now, maybe feeling still a bit guilty for the last time. The lid had kept most of the coffee inside but some of the cold and slightly sticky beverage still dripped down her fingers. Ariel pushed up their heart-shaped sunglasses, their own glasses underneath, and looked at the cup quizzically. Since they had last met, Ariel had gotten deep shadows under their red-rimmed eyes.

“You look awful,” Evelyn said, forgetting about the existence of her verbal filter.

“Thanks, it’s the exams.”

“What do you-”

“Doing my Masters in Curses.”

“That’s a thing?”

Ariel froze a bit and then mumbled, “I am sort of making it a thing?”

They finally took the iced coffee out of Evelyn’s hand, took off the lid, chugged it all at once and threw it into the bin next to the bench.

“Sounds very cool. And useful,” Evelyn mumbled and nearly missed how Ariel’s eyes shut again, only for them to flinch back awake. “You seem incredibly tired, though.”

“It’s the stress, don’t worry. It’s giving me bad dreams, is all.”

They looked each other in the eyes, communicating silently that they both knew that the other knew. It was Evelyn who finally broke it.

“You can’t be serious. You really went into that vent to get the Mare alone? You can’t just do that.”

Ariel just shrugged and let the sunglasses drop down again. “Well, actually I could. It wasn’t even hard. I just climbed from the toilet seat to the air vent – which is much smaller than it looks in movies, by the way – and crawled through it following the snoring sounds. Then I saw the Mare – which was the ugliest thing I laid sight upon so far, by the way – and hunted it through the maze. Just that I kinda lost it after ten seconds or so. I swear I could still hear it, but it was just too dark and I didn’t really think to bring a flash-light. Damn, it really scared the shit out of me, because I kept turning around? But there was nothing.”

“That’s because the Mare climbed onto your back and stuck to you then. I told you that would happen, but you didn’t listen. So of course you are tired now, you’re haunted by it.”

“Ah, right. You did say that.” Ariel rested their head on their hand and pouted. “That’s the bad dreams then.”

“Yeah. Mares eat good dreams, so you only have the bad ones, and more of them to fill the blanks.” Evelyn sat down next to them, a little helpless.

“I never have good dreams, though. Just weird ones. The kind where a giant slug comes and eats my master thesis and I give it strawberries as a thank. I miss the slug, I used to call it Bob.”

Evelyn raised an eyebrow at them, uncertain if they were being serious, joking, or if it was the lack of sleep.

“Well, maybe you will get lucky and the Mare will lose its sanity and leave you alone soon.”

“That can happen?”

“No.”

Ariel groaned and stretched, only to slump down again. “What do I do now?”

“Hire a company to get rid of it. Just know that no insurance company is gonna cover it, because you dragged the Mare into your bedroom yourself. You basically asked it to come inside.”

Ariel pulled a face and sighed heavily. “I can’t afford that. Can’t you come?”

“If you study curses, haven’t you covered mythological practices in your bachelor's too?”

“Not really. Just in theory. In more practical terms, I already only focused on curses back then. I want to be a curse-broker, so I never bothered with anything beyond ghosts. You seem to be able to, though. You never once mentioned that you wouldn’t be able to help me, just that you didn’t want to.”

Evelyn didn’t answer. They were right, of course. She had learnt everything she needed to know long before she had entered uni for the first time, growing up as the daughter of the owners of a company specializing on mythological creatures. Studying that at uni was supposed to only give her the licence to work in the field, she hadn’t gained new knowledge at any point.

“Have you ever considered that I might really suck at dealing with creatures? I might make the situation worse for you,” she then mumbled, staring at the blue sky behind the birch leaves. She said it barely loud enough to be understood.

“Do you?” Ariel worked through their bag and pulled out two lollies, offering one to Evelyn.

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I am really bad with curses, though.” She unwrapped the lolly and put it into her mouth. “Curses are more my sister’s expertise.”

Something in her voice must have betrayed her feelings. The hurt, the anger, the resentment. It was all she had to say to be understood. Ariel stayed silent for a long time as they sat on that bench, letting the lollies turn their tongues green. When lunch break was over, students walked over the campus to different buildings, but they stayed seated.

“She’s not dead, tho, is she? Wait! Did a Mare kill her?” Ariel then suddenly asked, their voice a bit shrill that it made Evelyn giggle.

“Nah, don’t worry. Mares aren’t high class enough to kill you. Maybe the after effect of the insomnia would in due time, but I don’t know many cases in which it went that far,” Evelyn explained and bit on the lolly stick after the sugar had dissolved inside her mouth. “My sister’s fine. She went abroad.” Evelyn then frowned as the trees’ shadows moved with the sun, the bright light blinding her now. They had sat there for a while. “To the USA. I haven’t seen her in a while, it’s been one and a half years.”

“You were close?” Ariel asked softly. Evelyn heard how they were more serious now.

“Yeah. I mean. I am pretty sure that I am always closer to people than they are to me. But we got along well. We were a good team. She got this really good research opportunity in Philadelphia though. It’s good she went.”

“But you still miss her.” Ariel handed her a new lolly with a grin and she accepted.

“Yeah, I do. Of course, I do.”

“Hm.” Ariel unwrapped their second lolly as well, eyes still droopy from their accidental nap. “Is she the reason you don’t go in the field anymore?”

“More or less,” Evelyn started, and the fear of oversharing hit her. But Ariel had asked, in some way at least. “After she left, I tried to make up for the gap she left behind. It did not work out well. I messed up this one job and no one got hurt, but it just reminded me that I was kinda raised into it all and it felt wrong so I left.”

“Huh. So you dumped your whole study subject?”

“Yeah. I worked without a license. My parents covered it all up, which just felt even more wrong. I should have had to face the consequences, or at least my parents. I should have gotten banned from field work anyway, so leaving was the only choice to make.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes. A bit.”

“I have just the thing. Back at home there’s a Mare that I can’t afford to kick out professionally. It’s kinda stealing my sleep.”

Without Evelyn noticing, they had come closer, a slightly mischievous grin on their lips. There really was no way to say no to them now. At some point she must have said something close to a yes, because Ariel was dragging her down the stairs towards the town and their apartment where the Mare occupied their bed. Evelyn wondered every now and then if all that conversation had been some detailed plan to lead her into that trap until she followed Ariel home to help them with the creature. But then again, she somehow had also followed Ariel into that new, quite weird friendship between them, so she did not actually mind that much.

----

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#writeblr #novella #my writing #original fiction #fantasy #urban fantasy #ghosts #curses #wip; heart of silver #heart of silver chapter 2 #tw alcohol

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clareguilty · 4 years

Text

To Guard You and to Guide You

My first reward fic for my follower giveaway! Dutch/Arthur/Fem!Reader Rating: Explicit | It’s smut.... Word Count: ~2000

Part One

It’s late into the night when you hear the thunder of hooves on the trail. You live too far out for anyone to be passing by. If someone is riding this way, they’re coming for you.

Any business that comes calling this late at night is likely to be trouble, so you grab your rifle before peering out the window. The moon is almost full, and you see two riders coming up the trail towards the house.

Wait. You recognize those horses. A white stallion and a dark coated mare. Two broad shouldered riders.

“Dutch! Arthur!” you call, flying off the porch to meet them. “What brings you out here?” Their gang had moved camp a little farther south, and you hadn’t seen them since. They promised they would come back around next time they were in the area.

Dutch laughs boisterously. “We’re putting as much distance between ourselves and the sheriff of Valentine as possible. Of course, we couldn’t resist paying you a visit.” He rears The Count to a stop, sliding out of the saddle and striding up to pull you into his arms. He’s in high spirits, and he lifts you and spins. Your own laughter carries through the trees.

Arthur is smiling as well as he leads the horses around to the back of the house. You make a move to follow him, but Dutch’s arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you towards the door. “I’ve got a bottle of brandy just for you,” he nuzzles into your neck.

He does indeed have a bottle of brandy. As well as a nice comb and a beautiful necklace that you doubt you’ll ever have reason to wear. You admire the gifts with flushed cheeks, debating if you should ask where Dutch got them.

“Robbed a fancy stagecoach a few weeks ago,” he tells you anyways. “The fine lady had these with her, and I thought they deserved to go to someone as lovely as you.”

Arthur is just coming in from the horses, and he snorts and rolls his eyes. You lean into him as he wraps his arms around you. He kisses you gently, his lips lingering at the corner of your mouth. “He’s always like this after a good score.”

Dutch feigns insult. “Is it so wrong of me to treat our lady? She deserves only the best.”

“Yeah, she does,” Arthur says. “Which is why I brought her saddle soap and gun oil, and a box of ammunition.”

It’s exactly the kind of gift you expect from Arthur. Subtle, practical.

“Y’all are too kind.” You shake your head. “I can’t accept all that.”

“Think of it as recompense for harboring two dangerous outlaws.” Dutch grins.

“Dangerous outlaws? Is that what you consider yourselves to be?” While you knew Dutch and Arthur were wanted men, and they had described to you the nature of the crimes they committed, it had been a long while since you saw them as dangerous. They were sweet and doting and compassionate.

Dutch’s eyes gleam in the low light. You realize you may have kicked the hornets nest. “Arthur, did you hear that?”

Arthur chuckles, and his voice is suddenly right at your ear, low and authoritative. “You don’t think we’re dangerous?”

“Well-” you stammer, “You just- I never- You’re so sweet and kind.”

They’re crowding you from both sides now. You know they’re enjoying this game far too much. Tripping over your feet, you stumble back into the wall. Dutch pins you in place and leans in so you can feel his breath on your skin. “Maybe we should remind you just what kind of men we are.”

The low growl of his voice sends a thrill down your spine. The arousal makes you weak at the knees, and your head feels light. You know Dutch and Arthur would never truly hurt you. They’re just riled up from their latest score. The thrill of the chase and a hard ride, and now they want to celebrate their success.

“Arthur,” Dutch orders, “undress her.”

He’s rough with you. More so than ever before. But he brushes a gentle kiss over your shoulder as he yanks your blouse off. You’re taken by surprise, but you let him manhandle you out of your clothes. He hoists you over your shoulder as though you’re a sack of feed. He playfully smacks your ass, and you yelp.

The room spins as you fall onto your bed, sprawled ungracefully as Arthur climbs over you. He unties his bandana from around his neck and quickly lashes your wrists together. You struggle weakly beneath him, unable to hide your grin. You’re enjoying this just as much as they are.

Dutch watches with a gleam in his eyes. You wonder what he has planned.

Arthur has his own ideas, and sinks between your legs, kissing his way up the inside of your thigh. You whine as he teases you, diverts his attention to your hips and stomach. All you want is for them to touch you, to take you.

“Please,” you whine.

“There’s those pretty sounds,” Dutch pets your hair. “Been missing you.”

You gasp as Arthur finally touches you where you need it most. He presses two fingers inside you, stroking your clit with his tongue. Dutch watches as you arch you back and buck your hips against him. Unable to resist, he pinches and rolls your nipple between his fingers just to watch you pant and moan.

“Arthur!” you gasp as he crooks his fingers and sucks. Living alone, you rely on yourself for pleasure most of the time. It’s always overwhelming when Arthur and Dutch take you to bed. They never leave you unsatisfied. Often you wind up sore and exhausted when they take their leave.

You belong to them, and they delight in fucking you and making you come until you’re a shaking mess between them.

“You’re close,” Dutch murmurs. “I want to see you come undone.”

Arthur doubles his efforts at Dutch’s words, just as eager to make you fall apart. You pull against the bandana on your wrists, eyes fluttering shut as you try to watch him. He trails his lips down the column of your throat. He and Arthur both, devoted entirely to you.

You come with a breathy cry of Arthur’s name. He holds your hips in place until you’re shaking and on the brink of tears. When he pulls away his lips are slick and shining. He wipes the back of his hand over his chin, looking far too proud of himself.

You’re panting and shaking. Dutch and Arthur communicate wordlessly -- something you’ve always thought incredible -- and your hands are unbound. You reach for Arthur, eager to return the favor, but Dutch pulls you into his lap.

“Be a good girl for Daddy,” he pulls you in for a kiss. It’s eager and messy. He runs his hands over your skin, pinching and squeezing just to get a reaction out of you. You tug at his clothes, fingers fumbling over the buttons of his vest. It’s much more heated than the last time you saw him: a lazy affair during the hottest month of the year. He kisses his way down to your chest as you struggle to get his pants open.

Finally, you’re able to pull his cock free. Just as you wrap your fingers around his length, he lifts you off his lap. Your whine and pout are ignored, and instead Dutch pins you onto your stomach. He grinds against your ass, breath hot against your skin. You glance up to see Arthur, undressed. He’s clearly feeling left out, but he watches Dutch with fond exasperation.

Dutch comes to his senses a moment later, no longer mindlessly rutting against you. This time, he pulls you so that you’re lying back against his chest. He holds you by the hips and presses his cock into you with a low, satisfied groan. You’re still dripping wet from Arthur eating you out, but you aren’t anticipating the sudden stretch. Dutch doesn’t even give you time to adjust before he’s thrusting up into you, pulling you down by your hips to meet his every motion. Your head falls back against his chest, and you cling to his arms as he fucks you.

And then Arthur is there, rubbing his thumb over your clit so that you tighten around Dutch’s cock, and he only fucks you harder.

“How much more can you take?” Arthur asks gently. He brushes your hair out of your unfocused eyes, thumb trailing over your cheek.

“I don’t know,” you gasp.

He grins. “Then I guess we’ll just find out.” He’s more insistent now, intentionally trying to drag another orgasm out of you.

You come quickly, squeezing around Dutch’s cock.

Dutch is close too, you can tell from the change in his breath. His voice is low and rough when he speaks. “I’m going to fill you up so good. You’re going to be good for Daddy and take it all. Let me breed you good.”

The words make you shudder, and you rock your hips down against his. “Daddy, please. I need it.”

“That’s a good girl,” he croons. He drives his cock into you as he comes, squeezing your hips so hard you know you’ll be covered in purple handprints tomorrow. You can feel his cock twitching, can feel the heat inside you.

He stills, relaxes beneath you. A few panting breaths and he pulls out, both of you shuddering. You don’t get a moment of reprieve as Arthur immediately pulls you to him and begins fucking you again. “Just a little bit more, darling.”

You cling to him, your head rolling slightly with every thrust. He’s more gentle than Dutch in the way he holds you, but he fucks you harder. It’s nearing too much. They’ve never been this rough with you before. You’re a mess, dazed and uncoordinated in his arms, Dutch’s seed spilling out of you around Arthur’s cock.

Arthur slips a hand between you. You’re oversensitive, but he knows just exactly how much pressure to put on your clit.

“No,” you whimper. “Too much.”

He slows, reach up to take your face in his hands. You struggle to meet his eyes. “Can you give me one more?” he asks.

Now that he’s stopped moving, you want him to go back to fucking you. You’ll do anything he asks. “Yes,” you nod. “Please, Arthur.”

He kisses you so sweetly, once on your lips and again on the tip of your nose. “That’s it, doll.”

You want him to move, but he gently lays you on your back before he starts thrusting again. “Come on,” he murmurs. “One more for me.” He’s always been able to take you apart so easily, and your vision goes white as you come one final time. He keeps fucking you, though much more carefully.

It’s bliss. Mildly uncomfortable bliss considering you’re sore and bruised and fucked beyond anything you thought possible.

Arthur spills inside you just as Dutch had. You feel used, claimed.

Its a few moments before you’re able to keep your eyes open, and you blink in the dim room to see Dutch with his trousers fastened back up, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“Da-” you catch yourself. “I need a drink of that.”

He chuckles and insists on tipping the bottle to your lips himself. You stumble up from the bed, pushing away Dutch’s offered hand. The inside of your thighs are a mess, and you grimace as you wet a cloth at the basin and do your best to wash up.

“Do you need anything?” Arthur asks from where he’s pulling on his own clothes.

“I need a good night’s sleep.” You were already tired from a hard days work. Now, it’s well past midnight and you’ve just been fucked within an inch of your life. You’re swaying where you stand.

He chuckles. “You’ve certainly earned it.”

You climb under the blankets, eyes already heavy before you’ve even laid down.

“One of you get in here with me,” you grumble. The bed isn’t big enough for all three of you, but you’ll let them fight over who gets to sleep at your side.

Thankfully, whatever argument they have is silent, and you’re nearly asleep when Dutch lays against you.

“You know,” he whispers, trailing his fingers over the marks on your hips. “We’re going to be moving even farther south soon.”

“You’re going away?” The thought fills you with dread. The gang only moves when it’s too dangerous fir them to stay in one place, and from what you had heard, they never used to run into this much trouble before.

“We don’t have a choice,” he presses his lips to your hair. “But we miss you enough as it is already.”

“What will we do?” you ask. You already worry so much about them. Not being able to see them wears on your heart, never knowing if they’re safe or even alive.

“I know it’s a difficult choice for you, but you’re always welcome to come with us -- if you truly want to. We would love to have you with us. You would be safe. You would want for nothing. I could have you whenever I want.” He pulls you closer to him.

You know it’s not the time to make such decisions. You’re barely able to keep awake long enough to answer. His words are like a dream. Spending every day with Dutch and Arthur, watching over them, knowing they’re safe at your side.

“I’d like that,” you murmur absently. You think Dutch says something more, but you’re already asleep.

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lilyharvord · 4 years

Note

do u ever think that mare and cal had trouble conceiving? I love the head cannon where they try for awhile but then are convinced that being red and silver it won't work (both obviously very upset but hiding their disappointment to each other) and then finally mare gets pregnant when they've given up. Would u ever write a fic about it?

Okay, so yes, 100% yes. They have trouble. Scientifically, it is entirely possible that they would STRUGGLE with a capitol S to conceive. Here’s my headcanon that will 100% be a fic someday:

How it starts: Mare is the one to make the decision. It’s the dead of night, closer to 1 in the morningish. She and Cal are not married yet, they are waiting for thing to sort of calm down a bit more before that. But Bree’s wife just had a baby. Julian and Sara had a baby like a year ago. Ruth Barrow is low key side eyeing Mare and keeps dropping little hints that babies come in batches.

She rolls over and watches Cal for a little bit thinking it over, stressing over whether the decision is really hers of if she is letting outside things influence her. But then she thinks about Clara and how much she loves that munchkin (lets be real, Mare should have spent WAY more time around that baby during Broken Throne? I’m actually incredibly bitter that she didn’t. That is her favorite brother’s daughter.) And she thinks about how much she keeps putting off things in her life because she’s afraid of the future, afraid of what people might do and things that are out of her control. Then she grabs Cal’s arm, scaring the shit out of him, and just says: “I want a baby.” Plain and simple, no real pretext or anything. He’s obviously half asleep so he’s like: uh, okay that’s nice. Then she gives him The Mare Look™️ and he’s like: Oh. Oh you want one like now... like right now? And that’s the first night they try.

The middle: It does not go well. 6 months later, nothing. 8 months later, nothing. Mare is slowly starting to stress and they haven’t told ANYONE that they’re trying. 1 year later, still nothing. Mare actually starts doing the calendars at this point (for all the younguns in this fandom, ovulation calendars). Like they are on a schedule trying to get pregnant. It’s exhausting, they actually start fighting about it. It’s not going that well.

The middle still: 1.5 years after that first night, Bree and his wife announce baby number 2. Mare is actually a bitter, jealous gremlin the whole pregnancy. She literally goes into panic mode too, trying desperately to get pregnant. (like she’s on a mission. She’s drinking teas and do all the weird shit she can get her hands on in books)

Then it happens.

She comes back from the front lines and actually cries holding the test because she really truly thought it would never happen.

The middle continued: Spoiler alert...it doesn’t go well. 1 week later, she loses it. It’s no ones fault, but Mare blames herself. Blames the fact that she traveled to the Lakeland front line and came back not knowing she was 2 months pregnant and is convinced she miscarried because she was fighting. She tries to start up the whole process again, and is like “double time efforts, this is going to work. I will make it work because I’m low key a failure if I can’t do this.” (She obviously does not mention the last part, because well... she’s mare) and Cal is just not about the process anymore. He was all for it when he though they were doing it because she wanted a baby, and wanted to start a family with him, but now it’s looking like an obsession and it kinda scares him. They have a massive fight about it, so bad that he goes back to the States for a few weeks and everyone thinks they’re done for the last time (cause remember, they’re not married at this point). When people ask what happened, Mare won’t tell them. When people ask, Cal he won’t tell them. They actually dont talk to each other for a full month. It’s looking really bad. People are very concerned about both of them.

Spoiler alert again: Cal comes back (cause he always does). They have another long talk, and Cal finally gets her to tell him what she’s feeling. Obviously he feels horrible that he left without getting this out of her, but then again, Mare would not have told him at that point because she was just not ready to tell him. But after their month apart she is ready to sort her feelings and ideas with him. *Insert low key tearful hug where they’re holding each other super tight*.

The end of the middle: Mare goes to Sara and finally talks to her about it. Sara talks to Julian who talks to his buddies studying the whole Silver, Ardent, Red phenomena. They finally find someone who has been studying this stuff. He feels horrible telling them that because of genetics, how their different mutations operate, etc. they may never be able to conceive, but there is of course always a small chance they might. But it would have to be the perfect combination of their genetics and that may never happen.

Mare is obviously pretty upset. She’s quiet for a couple days, just sort of sorting through things. She finally tells her family, tells them that it will most likely never happen, and that they don’t want to talk about it. Everyone is probably more supportive than necessary, but it’s Mare’s family, they’re low key too supportive for their own good.

The End: Things go “back to normal”. Mare and Cal get married finally. And the whole time the two of them are looking into adopting. It’s obviously not an easy process either, and people aren’t too keen to let them adopt because they’re both running around the front lines at different times and thats just... not the best thing ever. Anyway, they start fucking around again (literally and figuratively). No expectations, nothing, just doing it for the fun of it.

Spoiler alert: it ends up being okay. (: Mare doesn't find out until 4 months in, but as soon as she does, low key gets a little PTSD and walks on egg shells for a few weeks, waiting for it to all fall apart. She doesn’t tell Cal, she doesn’t tell anyone. It’s Farley that figures it out. (; And when Mare tells Cal you can bet he just wraps his arms around her, picks her up and spins her around (i cannot resist this concept, he’s so much taller than her and the image of him wrapping his arms around her legs and lifting her up while she laughs is just too wonderful). Then they walk on eggs shells for another month, but at that point Mare pops and there is just no hiding the fact, and they’re so nervous and then before they know it, she's in labor and baby Barrow Calore #1 is born. Mare refuses to let go of her for almost two hours when she gets to hold her, but when she does it’s to let Cal hold her, and he actually gets really emotional holding her. And they’re just so happy, and it’s so heart warming, and anyway I’m done.

So that was long as shit and I practically told everyone the whole fic, but that’s my headcanon in a very large nutshell. XD

#(*ask lily*)#(*shut up lily*)#as you can all see #I have thought about this way too much for it be healthy #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #marecal #victoria has abandoned us for Realm Breaker #canon belongs to us now #so I will make it mine #with fire and blood I will make canon my own XD

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ijwrff · 3 years

Text

Yandere! Natemare

Requested by @lady-bee-fechin

Sorry it took so long but I hope you like it anyways! This contains suggestive themes!

Honestly...you didn’t want to be here. Your friends have dragged you to a new bar in town. Bars...weren’t really your thing. But your friends insisted you had to go. They were your friends...so you didn’t expect them to abandon you like they had. What “friends” they were.

With a sigh, you sat down at the bar. May as well get a few drinks in your system while you were here. It would be a waste to go to the bar and not have at least a drink or two. Besides...you wanted to kill some time until the performer took the stage. You heard from your “friends” that the performances are what made the bar special. Now call yourself curious…but you wanted to know what the performance would look like.

“Bartender! Another shot please.” You had lost count on how many drinks you had, and you cringed at thinking of how much it would all cost. Luckily you had a descent amount of cash saved up for spending purposes, so you weren’t too worried.

You heard clapping and cheering, and turned around to see a man with much likeness to the bartender taking the stage. Maybe they’re related…

“We are related, since that’s what you’re wondering.” You jumped at the sound of the bartender, turning back to the bar to look at the man.

“You can call me Phantom. And I own this lovely bar. That…” he pointed to the man on the stage, “is my brother of sorts.”

Of sorts...what does that even mean?

Your thoughts came to a stop as the drummer began to play a beat, the guitarist and bassist joining in soon after. You couldn’t see what your friends meant, the music seemed average.

But then you heard it...his voice. Something about it had your eyes lock into the singer, wanting to hear more of the song escape from his mouth. Then he looked at you. Or at least you think he did. He was looking back to the rest of the crowd before you knew it. Maybe it was an accident…? But something about that look…

Time seemed to pass quickly by, but also went astonishingly fast. You just couldn’t describe it. It was an experience on a whole different level.

You locked eyes with the singer once more, and you could swear he winked at you. Maybe it was just part of the performance. Either way, you turned back to the bar, only to see the bartender looking shocked.

“Someone who can resist his...charms. Now that’s something I don’t see every day.” You wondered what’s he meant, but threw the thoughts aside as you received another shot from the bartender.

“How much is this one?” You said not wanting to overspend in one place.

“On the house.” The man didn’t further explain, and he didn’t have to. Free booze is free booze.

After the song had ended, a couple more songs played, with the same singer. And from then on, it seemed like every time you turned away from the bar to look at the singer, he was staring right back at you. But...it could just be in your head.

Once the performances were done, you were shocked to see the lead singer hop off the stage and land gracefully among the crowd that had quickly formed. You looked back to the bar, contemplating on another drink before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned and saw the singing, up close and personal. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him utterly attractive...especially up close like this. You thought he was attractive before...but now? He was on a whole other level.

“Hello~ did you enjoy the performance?” He gave you a cocky grin, like he knew the answer.

“It was alright. Not the worst I’ve seen.” Your words seemed to baffle him, but he quickly recovered.

“Have you been here before? I don’t recognize you...are you here alone?” He day at the barstool next to you, “Phan, another drink for this one!” He pointed to you.

You didn’t complain as another shot was sent your way. He was cute...why not flirt a bit?

“First time here. I came with some friends but...I think they ditched me here.” You looked around, and saw none of your friends amongst the crowd. “Why? You think you can be good and take me home?”

“Be Good…? I don’t know what it means to be good. Trouble’s my middle name.” That same cocky grin creeped its way onto his face again.

“Is that so? Shame...I like good boys.” You have him a wink.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, you know that?” He partially closed his eyes, reminding you of a cat when they’re about to pounce on their prey.

“What if I told you danger is my middle name?” You sent a cocky grin back his way, and he seemed to pause for a moment.

“If I take you home...do I get to come in?” It was then that you felt his hand, tracing it’s way up and down your arm. It was almost...comforting.

“If you can be good until then I don’t see why not.” You weren’t one to turn down a good time. And this singer was definitely your type. You saw no harm in having fun with him for the night.

“Oh I’ll be good...just for you baby.” He stood up, helping you to your feet. You didn’t realize how drunk you were until you tried to stand up. The world wobbled...or maybe that was just you.

“Careful now doll, don’t want you spraining an ankle trying to walk in those shoes.” Before you knew it he had swept you up in his arms. He didn’t look like he would have the strength to carry a full grown person but here you were, safe and secure in this stranger’s arms.

“What’s your name?” You figured if anything, you needed to know who’s name you’d be screaming tonight.

“You can call me Mare. And what do you say I take you to my place instead? I’ve got a nice array of...things I can use to make you feel good.” You looked up to him, he seemed genuinely interested in keeping you pleased so...you figured why not?

“Sure. How close is your place?”

“Just around the corner actually. We’ll be there in no time.”

True to his word, you were there quickly. He opened the door, and stepped inside, setting you down in the process.

“So...do I get to know this handsome stranger’s name?” You gave him a grin, knowing full well his name would be the only thing coming out of your mouth quickly enough.

“You can call me Mare. Do I get to know this beautiful stranger’s name?” He used your own words against you and you laughed.

“I’m y/n.” Short and sweet, you leaned in to give him a kiss, knowing full well the reason you came to his house.

The kiss was passionate, and you were astounded at how good of a kisser he was. Your back quickly got pressed against the now closed door and his hand found its way to the back of your neck, keeping you locked into place.

His body pressed against you, leaving no space between the two of you, and once again you were swept up in his arms.

You didn’t know which direction he was going, but through the hallway he kicked open a door that led to a bedroom. Within seconds you were laying on the bed.

“So darlin...you want me to be in control...or would you rather take the reins?” The question was sweet, you could tell he wanted to please you.

“Show me what it’s like for you to be in control.” The thought made you blush, and you pulled his head down for another kiss. It was fiery, and you began gasping for air, not wanting to pull away from the kiss for a second.

He reached over, pulling out handcuffs from his bedside drawer.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” You giggled and teased him, putting your arms up so he could place them in the cuffs. They were soft, fur on the inside to prevent chafing from the metal.

At that moment you could have sworn his eyes changed to a darker color, but as quickly as it happened it was gone.

“Hm...it’s not working on you.” He looked confused for a moment before shaking his head and leaning down for another kiss, not allowing you to respond with the question of what that meant.

He pulled away from the kiss before trailing kisses down your neck. You let out a moan as his lips connected with a soft spot on your neck. “All the same...I’m going to make you feel good.”

After you had both finished, you looked up to him as you breathed heavily. “So...you gonna let me out of these cuffs or not?” It was meant to be teasing, but he smirked down at you.

“I’m going with...or not.” The answer sent chills down your spine.

“Come on...let me out.” You pulled at the cuffs, which were still securely hooked to the bedframe.

“No thanks, I plan to keep you here for a while.” Your eyes widened and you started thrashing with your legs, trying to get him off you.

“Seriously, this isn’t funny!” He held your legs down, stopping your thrashing.

“I never said it was funny, but I like you. So I think i’m going to keep you. Besides...I wanna know why my powers don’t work on you. It makes you...special.” He reached down, and unlike before, you flinched. His hand slowly moved to you cheek, and you quickly reacted and bit him...hard.

“Let me out! Help! HELP!” You tried to call for help, but his hand slowly crawled from your cheek to your neck, putting firm pressure to it.

“Sorry doll...no one can hear you. Soundproofed rooms and all.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

Tears swelled up in your eyes at the thought of being stuck here. “Please...please just let me go.”

He reached up with his uninjured hand and wiped the tears away. “Don’t cry...you’ll like it here. I can please you whenever you want.” For emphasis, he rolled his hips against yours and it only brought more tears to your eyes.

“I don’t want you to please me! I want to go home!”

“Oh come on, you haven’t been here for more than a couple hours. Give me a chance.” He frowned.

“Never!”

“Soon enough you’ll see things my way…” He would keep you forever if he had to. You may not like him now...but he knows with enough time you’ll grow to like him. It just takes time, he tells himself. He would find out why his powers don’t work on you...even if he has to keep you handcuffed to his bed for the rest of your life. He’s determined...and he knows...you’re never getting away.

#natemare #natemare x reader #yandere! natemare #yandere! natemare x reader #natewantstobattle egos #x reader #suggestive themes

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michaelgrayyy · 4 years

Text

One of us (10)

Michael Gray x Reader/ Peaky Blinders x Reader

Master list - https://michaelgrayyy.tumblr.com/masterlist

After the events at the distillery were settled Tommy invited everyone over for a meal at his grand house, you were relieved knowing it was over with the Italians. But it was still at the expense of losing John and in a way losing Michael as well, you knew he’d never be welcomed back home again by Tommy. You sit around with the others, you sit talking to Bonnie about his fight not being able to see him to congratulate him with everything that had gone on. The rest all talk amongst themselves, before Tommy shouts for you all to listen.

“Right. Oi! Listen up. Before we all go and eat, I'd like to say a few words. The last time we were all here, it ended badly.” Tommy says looking over at you. “But now we’re in a happier place. That’s it.” he says with a small smirk. “I’d just like to raise a toast” he says as you all raise your glasses.

“Hold on. Few words I’d like to say from the heart, and this time you’re going to let me finish, Tommy” Arthur says getting up to stand as he speaks. “Now as you all know, Arthur Shelby is dead. Because of that, Tommy’s offered me a way out. A new identity.” you look over at Tommy trying to read his thoughts as Arthur rattles on. “Start a whole new life for myself and I've thought about it. I’ve made a decision. I ain’t going fucking nowhere” he finishes gaining cheers and laughs from the room. You raise your eyebrows at Tommy earning you a smirk from him. “Now our enemies are gone. Dead, all of ‘em. For the first time since me and my two kid brothers, Tommy and John enlisted in the Warwickshire Yeomanry, we have peace. So, I think I’d like to make a proposal. All of you, The Shelby Company Limited, insist that Tommy here takes some time off. It’s time you took a holiday, Tom. Put your feet up. War is over. No-one wants to kill us. To peace” Arthur finishes and you look over at Tommy silently holding his glass. Knowing Tommy doesn’t know how to rest or take a holiday. They all cheers and you all get up heading into have food. You stay the night, spending some time with Charlie in the morning the next day. Tommy comes to see you off as you leave just after lunch.

“Whereto” Tommy asks as you walk down the step of the house with him. You debate lying to him but know he'll find out anyway. You both stop halfway down the steps.

“New York, going to visit Michael” you reply honestly, he raises his eyebrows with a knowing smirk and you almost roll your eyes but refrain.

“Just visiting?” he asks not believing you’ll come back.

“Yes, just visiting. Then home, not too far from here”

“That mean you’ll come to visit?” he asks

“If you’ll have me” you reply with a smile and he smiles nodding as you both carry on walking again.

“Charlie would like that” he replies. “You going to be safe in New York? Dangerous to be travelling alone” he adds

“I’m not going alone” you say. “Isiah is coming with me” you say and he nods looking a bit more relieved, but only slightly seeing as you travelling with a young black man wasn't going to help you blend in any better. But, you trusted Isiah and you knew he’d look after you, and he was Michaels friend at one point.

“Stay safe” he urges and you lean over giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking down the rest of the way to the car, the driver holding the door open for you as Tommy walks down to tell the driver where to take you, he also hands you some money which you try to decline but he insists, for your journey.

Tommy being Tommy ends up pulling a few strings and upgrading your seats on the train and on the ferry. You get disapproving looks from people around you as you travel with Isiah but you pay them no attention not giving them the time of day, it takes Isiah a bit more self control but you manage to convince him they aren’t worth his energy. It took days travelling to America and you were glad you asked Isiah to accompany you as he kept you entertained during the long ours and was your drinking buddy when all else failed, he also shared a cabin with you both agreeing it would be safer and he was respectful to give you your own space. After days of travelling on the ferry, you made it to land only to be boarding a train headed for New York.

Finally, after days that felt like forever you arrive, New York, a driver is waiting for you at the station. Isiah laughs at you as you travel through the city, head practically glued to the window looking out in amazement. The driver pulls over telling you this is it and you step out as Isiah gets your case and his own, you look up at the apartment block in excitement. You grab your case off Isiah much to his protest before you both head in, you go to the lift both getting in and as you climb the floors your start to nibble your lip nervously. Isiah elbows you in the side, luckily your ribs had healed by now.

“Stop it. It’ll be fine” he reassures you seeing your nervous fidgeting. You reach the floor and open the lift door but you don’t step out, again with a shove from Isiah you step forward and head to the door. Isiah knows where this is heading and beats you to the door giving two quick knocks, you send him a scolding look and he smirks before you are interrupted by the door opening. You are greeted with the sight of Michael opening the door in a grey suited and it suddenly hits you that this may be the best bad idea you’ve ever had. He steps aside letting you both in, he gives Isiah a brotherly hug before turning to you and embracing you, you both hold on a bit longer until Isiah clears his throat and you both pull away avoiding eye contact. Leaving your cases by the door Michael leads you both over to a table before he grabs drinks for you both, pouring you a gin and a whisky for himself and Isiah. You notice the cane leaning by the door as he walks round to sit down beside you with only a slight limp.

“So, how are we?” he asks leaning back in his chair whisky in hand and you smirk at him.

“We beat the Italians” you reply with a shrug as if it was easy and he nods chuckling, you carry on. “ Arthurs alive” you add and he sits up in surprise.

“Fucking hell” he sighs taking a drink, you loved that Polly left that out when she called him to tell him of you visit. Which reminds you, you look around the room locating the phone.

“Can I quickly call and tell Tom I'm alive” you ask motioning to the phone, he nods and you get up walking over. Isiah gets up asking where to put the cases, he takes his case into the first spare room and leaves your case outside the door of the second. You dial the number for Shelby limited trying to guess the time difference but when no one answers you dial Tommy’s home phone.

“Hello?” you hear him respond and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Tom, its me”

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“I just wanted to call to let you know I got here okay” you hear him let out a deep sigh. “You okay, Tommy?”

“How long are you staying?” he asks avoiding your question.

“I don’t know yet. What time is it there?”

“Just after midnight” he replies and you nod looking over to Michael, you can see he’s listening but he’s trying to pretend he isn’t.

“Still can’t sleep” you say, not asking knowing he’ll never be able to just close his eyes. “When you taking that holiday Arthur talked about?” you ask and you hear a little tired chuckle on the other end.

“I bought a horse today. Just like the mare you used to ride when you were younger, thought you could go out with Charlie when you get back” he says and you know its his way of trying to convince you to come home.

“I am coming back” you insist knowing what he’s thinking, he doesn’t reply for a moment and you wonder if he’s left.

“Stay safe, y/n” he says sounding worn out.

“Get some rest, Tom” you reply putting the phone down, just as Isiah walks back out the door wearing a new suit. “Where are you going?”

“Downstairs for a drink, you two can catch up.” he shrugs heading towards the door. You got to protest worrying about him going out on his own but Michael cuts you off.

“Two men down the hall, take them with you” he says and Isiah nods walking out the door. The door shuts, leading to silence in the room, you look over at Michael chewing your lip. “You look better, not needing the cane as much” you say breaking the silence and walking over to sit back down, he follows sitting back down with you nodding.

“You all healed?” you nod at his question. “How is everyone?”

“Everyone’s....okay. I’m moving back to the village, not far from Tommy and Charlie, staying close to your mum. Arthur’s raising some chickens, Finn’s still getting up to trouble and Ada’s moved back to her home. Oh, Lizzie’s expecting, with Tommy. Your mum says its a girl. So god help us all. How are you, Michael?” He laughs when you tell him the news of a new Shelby

“I was missing Small Heath, but you’re here now” he says, the smooth git. You blush looking away from him to take a drink, you look back up at him to see him intently watching you and you get up to walk over to the window. You can feel the tension in the room as the mood shifts between you both.

“It’s not the same without you there” you say looking out the window not trusting yourself to look at him, but you hear him stand up walking over to you. He doesn’t say anything but you sense him moving closer. “He’ll never let you back, you know” you say still facing the window. You turn around coming face to face with Michael, he doesn’t say anything just takes your glass of gin of you putting it on the window sill beside you. You got to speak again but he with one swift move he pulls you closer covering your lips with his own, you instantly melt into the kiss. Neither of you having to worry about injuries as he backs you up against the wall deepening the kiss, he wastes no time getting rid of your blouse as you untie his tie and he shrugs off his jacket as you work on his shirt and waistcoat, meanwhile you both keep reconnecting your lips at any chance you get. He grips onto you, lips now on your neck as he backs up bringing you with him, his back hits his bedroom door as he fumbles for the doorknob. Opening the door, he spins you both so he's now backing you up, he backs you over to the bed throwing you on it. His hands instantly go to his belt quickly removing his trousers before he turns his attention to you sprawled out on the bed, still wearing your tights and pencil dress. He unzips the skirt tugging it down you legs, taking the tights with them. You hear them hit the floor and look up to him stood across from you, his chest is beating enough for you to see as you look at his bare barechest, the only noise that fills the room is the ragged breathing of you both as you take each other in. He pulls his boxers down before climbing into the bed, hovering over you, the room soon filled with new sounds.

You open your eyes squinting at the light coming through the window, you rub your eyes and Michael stirs beside you.

“Mornin’.” he mumbles and the events of last night come back to you and your cheeks heat up. You sit up covering yourself with the sheets looking at the scattered clothes on the floor and over at the desk where all the papers are now on the floor, after you and Michael decided to change up locations on your third round. You throw yourself back to lie down on the bed covering your face as you groan, Michael chuckles beside you and you feel the bed shaking. A knock on the door startles you before Isiah calls through, telling Michael there’s someone on the phone for him. You hide your face in Michael’s side from further embarrassment when Isiah adds a ‘morning y/n’ on the end of his sentence, you feel Michael’s chest vibrate again and whack his chest. He uncovers your face giving you a quick peck to the lips before getting out of bed grabbing a nearby robe to cover himself. You call out too Isiah to go back in his room and hear the door shut before you creep out, sheets still wrapped around you tightly as you grab your case and run into your own room mortified.

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@lemur46

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#michael gray #Michael Gray imagine #michael gray x reader #Michael Gray series #thomas shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder x reader #isiah jesus

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