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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

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Chapter 46

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The Thunderpath was the last barrier between Talltail and home. It was dark, and there were no monsters in sight, but the steps across were the longest and most nerve wracking of his life. At last, with a nudge from Jake when he hesitated on the last tail-length of stone, his toes touched heather wet with dew from the late greenleaf rain. He stopped and breathed in, his jaws open to drink in the taste of the moor. The gorse, the bracken, the soil. Home. Relief and a sudden unexpected giddiness hit him all at once and Talltail found himself bounding forward, streaking across the grass as fast as he could just to remember what it felt like. He knew exactly where he was, coming down the farthest edge of Swift-Step Hills, the downward momentum letting him remember that feeling of flying. He remembered this trail, and the bramble patches and scattered stones he passed. After so long of unknown land, bewilderment, at last… He felt right. Whatever part of him had worried that maybe he would be too changed to ever feel as he once had so long ago was quickly swept up and blown away in an instant. He wanted to let out an excited yowl, and might have if he didn’t suddenly remember that he had no idea how a WindClan patrol would receive him if he accidentally barreled into one. In his mad dash, he’d also nearly forgotten that he needed to circle back so as to not leave Jake in the dirt. Jake was waiting with a fond gleam in his eyes as he trotted, a little more clumsy on the steeper slopes, down the hill after Talltail.

“I was worried you’d just take off entirely,” Jake said.

“Sorry. I just needed to...needed to...you know?” Jake headbutted his shoulder gently. “Yeah, I know.”

Talltail shook himself. He did need to get his head on straight. Tonight could go very badly, but he needed to allow himself that brief moment of joy before the intense fur prickling anxiety set back in. He wasn’t sure what he was hoping for. A patrol? That would surely be better than waltzing into camp, but...how much better would depend heavily on who was on the patrol.

What he wasn’t expecting was a lone cat scouting the moor with no other patrol in sight. Whatever he’d been hoping for...it certainly was not what he saw.

Talltail froze mid step as he was suddenly aware of a shocked pair of sharp yellow eyes meeting his from within the heath, before the cat they belonged to slowly rose up. Shrewclaw stood alone half way down the hill, staring up at Talltail and seemingly just as frozen to the spot.

The stars clearly weren’t ready to forgive him just yet.

Talltail wasn’t sure how he expected Shrewclaw to react. Shrewclaw, who out of every living cat in the clan, he would have been the most certain unabashedly hated him. A warning snarl perhaps, or a taunting ‘so you think you can come crawling back, huh?’

What he didn’t expect was the expression on Shrewclaw’s face to shift from stunned shock to something that might have resembled...relief. Seeing a positive emotion on Shrewclaw’s face was odd enough on the best of days, but now, Talltail didn’t know what to make of it.

His old rival took several careful steps towards him. “Talltail? Is that...you?”

Talltail wasn’t sure how to reply, and then Shrewclaw was right in front of him.

“You’re alive,” Shrewclaw said stiffly. Talltail couldn’t make out what the tone of his voice meant. It was not quite aggressive, but not quite welcoming either. “We all thought...at least, most of us thought for sure you were dead, w-what--? Why--?”

“I, um,” Talltail stuttered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this must look to you, but I-I need to speak with the clan.”

To his further surprise, Shrewclaw stepped forward and touched his nose, hesitantly. Talltail realized with a start Shrewclaw had to lean up to do so. Have I really grown since I left? Or maybe he got shorter...

Shrewclaw took an awkward step back. “I thought you might be a ghost, just...checking.”

“You thought what?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t believe you’re here again I'm--I’m sorry.”

“Y...you’re sorry?”

“Yeah, I mean-- It wasn’t fair--I didn’t mean anything I said--Well...no, maybe I meant some of it, but not the worst stuff, you know? I thought it was my fault. It’s been such a mess since you left, and I thought I’d never get to...just...I’m sorry, ok?”

Talltail just stared. What was he looking at? Who was this cat and what had they done with Shrewclaw? Where was the unstable angry tom who would sooner drop dead than apologize for anything? What else has changed while I was gone?

Before he could ask Shrewclaw to elaborate, the tom perked up. “By StarClan! You need to get your stupid tail back to camp right now, everyone won’t believe it...Dawnstripe, and Woollycloud and--Ugh you have the worst possible timing, with everyone riled up about ShadowClan!”

“Weren’t we already riled up about ShadowClan?”

“Yes, but it got better for a bit, and then it got way way worse!” Shrewclaw growled. “And now you have the nerve to just pop back up!? We need to go, it’s not safe in this part of the territory without a full patrol right now.”

Talltail narrowed his eyes. “You’re out here without a full patrol?”

Shrewclaw glared. “Yeah, well, mind your own business.”

Well that sounded a bit more like the Shrewclaw he remembered.

Talltail looked over his shoulder at Jake, not far behind him, and gulped. This is what he got for not making a clear plan for this moment. “R-right, you’re right we should go, but I have uh. I have a... friend? He’s the reason I could come back, and I want him to stay with me.”

Shrewclaw looked behind him and his fur bristled a bit on sight at the orange kittypet, who gave him an awkward wave of the tail.

“Hello!” Jake called and promptly let out a huge sneeze when the grass he was hiding in went up his nose.

Shrewclaw blinked. “I… really don’t have time to argue with you about this. Whatever, fine, let's just go! I have to tell Briar.”

Talltail looked back at Jake and nodded, though he couldn’t hide his uncertainty about this situation. But no matter what, there was no going back now. He was being brought right back into camp...and he would have a lot of explaining to do. Jake stayed close beside as they ran at a steady pace through the eastern fields, up towards Outlook Hill overlooking WindClan’s camp. Talltail’s heart thudded louder than ever in his ears with each step closer to home.

They hadn’t run long when he spotted Briarpaw, bounding across the heather toward them. Had they already been seen? Shrewclaw scooted by him and said “I’ll let everyone know,” and kept going. The nervous bird fluttering in Talltail’s chest was now having a full-blown panicked fit, but his eyes were brought back to Briarpaw’s too quickly to think as the medicine cat reached him and headbutted into Talltail’s chest so hard he was almost knocked backward. Talltail was stunned for a moment while Briarpaw pressed his muzzle against his chin.

“Talltail! Talltail, you came home! You’re ok!”

Talltail, hesitantly at first, leaned into his old friend, and for a few moments just remained there remembering his familiar scent and gentle purr.

“You're really home…” Briarpaw breathed.

“Briarpaw I...I’m sorry I left so fast. I’ve missed you.”

There wasn’t a trace of anger on his face, he simply corrected. “Briarface.”

Talltail blinked in surprise “R-really? You already got your medicine cat name?”

Briarface ducked his head almost bashfully “I’ve had a lot of time to focus on honing my skills. It kept me busy. I only got it a quarter moon ago, actually.”

“That’s...great! Congratulations, really.” Talltail couldn’t help but feel the moment was bittersweet. Briarface had been so nervous about getting his name, afraid he wouldn’t get it at all at one point, unsure of his talent. I wanted to be there when he did… he thought sadly. He and Shrewclaw had planned a celebration for it once. It was one of the only things they agreed on. But then, that was before everything had gone so wrong. He shook the pangs of regret from his head. He couldn’t change what he’d done, he could only do better now. Briarface pressed his nose to Talltail’s.

“I’m glad you're here now,” he mewed, as if he knew Talltail’s worries. He probably did. Briarface’s golden eyes drifted past Talltail to rest on the bright ginger tabby sitting half crouched among the moor grass. Jake looked as if he couldn’t decide if he should hide, come forward, or simply wait, and was stuck in the middle of all three, awkwardly shuffling his paws as Talltail greeted his oldest friend. Talltail waved him forward with his tail and immediately Jake perked up at the invitation and trotted forward in the usually warm manner. He stopped short a tail length away and hastily dipped his head, clearly barely remembering the clan's custom greeting.

“Uh, ‘evening!” he mewed.

“You must be Jake?” Briarface purred. Talltail wondered briefly if he had told Briarface Jake’s name, but then, he had apparently seen Talltail with him moons ago when they were young. He felt a rush of relief at Briarface’s lack of suspicion. Jake surely still carried traces of twoleg scent, but Briarface didn’t recoil or comment on who this strange outsider Talltail traveled with was at all.

Talltail turned to Jake, “this is Briarface. He’s been a dear friend of mine since I was a kitten.” If only I had always treated him as such… he added silently.

Briarface dipped his head politely to the orange tom “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jake lifted his head and blinked at the medicine cat. “You’re Briarface?” he mewed seeming in thought for a moment “Huh...Well, you are pretty.”

Briarface blinked. “Uhm...Thank you?”

Talltail cleared his throat loudly. “Anyway...Jake is my close...friend. A lot more than that really--er. W-We’ve been through a lot together and...”

“Yes, I can tell. Well any friend of yours will be welcome, I’m sure.” Briarface purred with amusement. “I’m sure you’ve come a long way, but I'm afraid there isn’t much time for rest. Come on, let's not keep anyone waiting.”

Briarface seemed so confident about the idea. Even so, Talltail expected some kind of anger when he got back, after the way he left. The more he thought about it, the more deeply ashamed he was for it. If they were furious, they had a right to be. He heard loud voices from over the crest of the camp's border, and Talltail followed Briarface down achingly familiar paths, his paws falling so naturally into pawprints he’d walked for so long. Like he’d never left at all. But I did, he reminded himself And I have no idea what will happen now.

Then they were there, cresting the slope leading into camp and there was no more time left to worry. Within a heartbeat, Dawnstripe had tackled him to the ground even harder than Briarface had, with Woollycloud at her heels. He saw the familiar forms of the siblings Fallowspring, Ryewhisker and Fawnleap. Shrewclaw followed behind, and Talltail was surrounded. He could hardly think through their purrs and questions as everyone tried to touch noses with him at once, some a little too hard in their haste.

“You’re alive!” Woollycloud sobbed

“Where have you been?” Dawnstripe cried,

“Are you hurt?” Ryewhisker asked

“I-I’m sorry,” was all Talltail could choke out. “I’ll try to explain as...as best I can.” Where would he start?

Fawnleap paused, his eyes narrowed slightly. “Hey...are you taller than me now?” he cried, almost sounding offended.

“What? I uh--? Don’t know?” Talltail stuttered. He couldn’t think of what else to say amidst all the chaos.

“You do look different. Your journey has changed you,” Briarface added with a glint in his eye.

“O shut up Fawnleap, you flea-brain,” Fallowspring said, “There are way more important matters here. Like who in StarClan is that?” She gestured over at Jake, who grinned sheepishly in return.

“He’s my er--companion, he helped me back home,” Talltail said quickly. He hardly knew what to do with himself or where to start. It was hard to imagine he’d gone so long alone, forgetting the feeling of having so many others around him. He didn’t realize how much he had missed the security, the feeling of surety of being surrounded with so many trusted cats. He wanted to answer everyone’s questions, they certainly had plenty, but his voice was failing him.

Dawnstripe was pressing her forehead into his. “I’m extremely cross with you, Talltail,” she said, although she didn’t sound particularly cross.

There really had been no way to know what he would find upon returning. He feared that he would be met with scorn, with the others turning their backs on him for his actions. And there certainly were a couple cats that looked genuinely cross, but... not necessarily hostile. Mostly, there were looks of amazement and relief--even joy. He could have toppled over in relief having that sudden fear swept away. Maybe they really did want him home as much as he wanted to be here.

“Everyone,” Talltail started, trying, and failing, to keep his voice from cracking. “I really wish could explain now, b-but I think I should speak to Heatherstar--”

“Yes, I think you should.” Heatherstar’s sharp commanding voice cutting through the crowd had everyone awkwardly shuffling back, parting for their leader as she strode towards Talltail with narrowed stormy eyes. Talltail dipped his head low at her approach.

“A convenient time for you to appear in our midst again,” Heatherstar said coldly. “You have very poor timing--or perhaps it’s lucky timing for you, considering we have no time to properly sort out what should be done about the desertion act you pulled.”

“You have every right to be angry with me Heatherstar,” Talltail began, still struggling to look her in the eye.

“I know I do. Your clan thought you were dead. I sent patrols out past the borders looking for you, only to find you’d simply left.” Then her voice softened, ever so slightly, to his surprise as she added, “but I am glad to see you are alive.”

Talltail stiffened as her eyes drifted behind him, surely resting on the strange orange kittypet sitting politely back a couple fox-lengths. Her face instantly hardened again, shifting her questioning glare back at Talltail. He cleared his throat and stumbled through the briefest, least awkward, explanation he could manage about meeting the kittypet, and how Jake helped him get home, and that he was very...important. She was still glaring when he finished, and Talltail felt flushing heat under his pelt while he went back to avoiding her gaze.

Eventually she let out a very slow, very exasperated sigh. “Talltail, for StarClan’s sake...” Talltail winced at how transparent he was being. Someone in the crowd snickered. Heatherstar closed her eyes in frustration, seemingly talking half to herself. “You are making your case harder by the second. You had to bring an outsider home with you now of all times?”

“He’s not just--I wouldn’t have made it home at all without him. He wanted to make sure I was ok. I-I promise we were very careful to give ShadowClan territory a wide berth.” Talltail stuttered.

“I almost wonder if you’ve planned this out. I wouldn’t feel comfortable kicking you out now when there's a chance you could be seen by them, even if I wanted to. We do not need to be seen with a kittypet on our land after all the ridiculous accusations we’ve been faced with these past moons!”

“T-that wasn’t my intent--” Talltail started.

She swished her tail dismissively. “What was your intent then? You disappeared for nearly two moons. Why have you returned now?

“I came because I was worried. And I...I am ashamed of how I left. I want to make it up to you. If you will let me. I heard trouble was coming and I couldn’t stand to be away any longer.”

She gave a curt nod. “Yes, well, I certainly wouldn’t say it’s been peaceful. We've dealt with multiple border skirmishes and a lot of unpleasant arguments and gatherings. I can’t understand how all of this lying and turmoil is worth a small spot of land for ShadowClan.”

“It's possible they aren't making up lies exactly,” Talltail said. “I think we’ve been set up. There’s a lot I learned that you might want to hear.”

After a long pause of consideration, Heatherstar waved the clan away. “You may speak to me privately. But your companion is going to remain under watch”

Talltail wanted to protest. Jake had never been in a place like this, surrounded by so many strange cats who were giving him sideways glances or wrinkling their noses at his collar.

Luckily, Briarface quickly stepped forward and whispered to him, “I’ll look after Jake, don’t worry, he’ll be fine.”

Talltail gave one last look behind him before he followed Heatherstar, but Jake just blinked back at him with a small shrug before following Briarface away from the center of the staring crowd. Thank the stars Jake was so resilient.

Once in her den, Talltail told Heatherstar all he could of what he had found, that ShadowClan had discovered their abandoned tunneling project and saw it as a threat, and that since then a lone bunch of young ShadowClan cats had enlisted the help of a rogue through threats to purposely cause trouble between them. She seemed reluctant when he mentioned Sparrow, but something in his eyes must have convinced her he was not making wild accusations out of grief or anger this time.

“I spoke to Sparrow, and to ShadowClan’s medicine cat. Sparrow and the rest of his family are free from them now, and I doubt he intends to return to clan territory ever again. ShadowClan may intend to retaliate...soon, but only because they have been fed so much false information.”

He hesitated to say ShadowClan was possibly planning an attack on the new moon, two days from then. He desperately didn’t want Heatherstar to react by saying ‘then we must immediately launch an attack first’. There was a chance that Ratfang would succeed in talking her leader down from the idea. She wanted to prevent a battle, and she must have been desperate to put so much trust in a potential enemy. Talltail wanted to at least try making good on that trust. There could still be time.

Heatherstar furrowed her brow slightly. “I admit that would explain where the accusations came from. But even if what you say is true, that certain cats acting alone wanted to set our clans at each other...knowing that may not be enough to fix anything. I know at least one ShadowClan warrior has died from infected battle wounds as a result of these skirmishes, and the lot of them have been even more hostile since. Meanwhile, our clan has still been insulted and harassed on our border for moons, that is very real, and Brackenwing’s death is fresh in our minds. Even if these deaths were accidental casualties of battle, they happened all the same...Not to mention, if what you say is true, then ShadowClan was likely indirectly responsible for Sandstone’s death as well--and that particular invasion was under Cedarstar’s orders. Knowing that, you still want to see if we can resolve this?”

Talltail swallowed. “I do. If I thought retaliation would bring us peace, I would feel different. But I cannot in good conscience chase that drive for vengeance against them, especially when the cause will be playing into a treacherous cat's desires. You know this could spiral into an endless on and off war, and we are approaching the cold seasons. I just...I don’t want to lose anyone else. I will help defend us at all costs if we are left with no choice, but if we have a choice...”

Heatherstar regarded him quietly for a moment. “I would prefer to avoid seasons long hostilities as well. I will send a messenger and request a meeting, since there is reason to believe peace will not wait until the next gathering. But keep in mind, since this is happening on a night when the full moon doesn’t protect us, it may end in a battle if ShadowClan does not believe us, and especially if they refuse to give up their push to expand the borders. They may wish to protect the honor of their own, even if their own have broken the code, at any cost. If they agree to a meeting, I suspect Cedarstar will bring his warriors, and so will we. If it comes to violence despite our efforts, your first step in proving yourself to your clan again, if that is your goal, will be to fight beside us.”

“I will. Always.” Talltail hoped she heard the conviction in his voice. A meeting with a battle patrol worth of warriors wasn’t the most hopeful scenario. But it was the best he could do.

***

Heatherstar announced to the clan her intentions to mixed mutterings and confusion. WindClan would send their messenger, and knowing ShadowClan, they would have patrols waiting nearby the border. They would make one last attempt at peace, but go in prepared for a fight.

“Why are we talking at all?” Shrewclaw hissed, casting a fierce glare at Talltail. Talltail stubbornly flattened his ears. There was the old angry tom he remembered. Whatever may have changed about Shrewclaw, this topic made it clear that old resentment built seasons ago when Brackenwing died was still there, burning away hot as ever. “You haven’t been here to see what they’ve been doing. This is a waste of time, violence is the only language ShadowClan understands. We have to make them regret ever setting paws under the Thunderpath tunnel to ensure they won’t dare try again!”

“I just think if one decisive battle was enough to fix things, the clans would have stopped fighting ages ago.” Talltail said evenly.

It was torment waiting around to hear back from the messenger. More than anything, Talltail wanted to sit with his old friends and hear about their lives, what had changed, if they were doing well. But there wasn’t time for that yet. Additionally, many cats were still looking at Talltail and Jake curiously, some a bit suspiciously. Perhaps they thought Heatherstar was letting him back in too easily. Honestly, Talltail wondered that as well. Heatherstar had been vague about what she planned to do with him, and about the outsider he had brought back. It seemed she wanted to deal with one big problem at a time, and any cat could see Jake wasn’t the most important threat around at the moment.

Talltail was arguing with himself over whether it was a mistake to allow Jake to come into this mess. He didn’t think anyone would hurt Jake, but it was true that coming back with a kittypet really wasn't helping his case to be smoothly accepted back. Strong relationships with any outsider was frowned upon, and kittypets even more so than the average rogue. But Jake was worth that risk. Talltail wasn’t ashamed of him. Imagine how furious Sandstone would be if he were here to see it, some petty part of him whispered. The thought, surprisingly, was almost funny now.

Maybe bringing Jake here was for selfish reasons, as having him nearby made Talltail feel braver, and he needed all the bravery he could get right now. To Talltail’s relief, Jake was still just sitting around amiably, clearly not frightened at all. He didn’t let himself get ruffled, even by the occasional hostile glance. He grinned and nodded a greeting to everyone he saw.

“I know you care about these cats, so I may as well try to make a good impression,” he said to Talltail. A cat could get used to anything, Jake had said once. Even all this.

Eventually Cloudrunner returned with the message, and ShadowClan, to everyone’s surprise, accepted the meeting immediately. Talltail thought they might at least wait a while, he’d been hoping for more time to settle his nerves and just get used to being back in WindClan’s camp again after so long. But he couldn’t relax until this matter was solved. Many cats were suspicious, and they had a right to be. Heatherstar was clearly prepared for an ambush. He just hoped she was also prepared to sort this out without claws. If they could.

“Our medicine cats will be on standby in case.” Heatherstar announced, not even bothering to call a meeting as everyone was already anxiously gathered. “Reedfeather will put together the patrol. Only a select few will meet, while the rest of you will wait nearby and listen for the signal if things go wrong.”

As those chosen for the patrol were preparing to leave, Briarface nudged Talltail gently. “It will be alright. And no one will harm your friend here, he’ll be safe.” Although his words were reassuring, that old cloud of worry marred his expression. Perhaps the medicine cat was trying to convince himself. “Be careful tonight, Talltail. I hope you can help us. Whatever happens...have faith in yourself.”

Before Talltail could leave camp, Jake was running up behind him. “B-But...Are you really telling me to stay behind again?” he demanded.

“I know you don’t want to,” Talltail whispered to him, “But I have to insist this time. I can’t afford to disobey orders right now. Heatherstar is not happy as it is and you haven’t been trained to fight clan warriors in the event something happens with ShadowClan! If an outsider is seen in battle, the accusations could start all over again.”

“I’ll watch over your friend,” Fallowspring offered “I have to stay in camp. I’ll at least make sure Whitetooth doesn’t bite his nose off.”

“But--!” Jake protested.

Talltail pressed his nose to Jake’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon, I promise. Fallowspring’s a good cat, don’t worry.”

Fallowspring nodded, but she looked weary. Talltail could see she had remnants of cobweb on her hindleg covering a wound, probably from a more recent border skirmish that looked painful to walk on. Of course, there was nothing else that would keep her from joining the battle patrol. She looked after the patrol with some frustration, and worry. It wasn’t hard to guess she was probably looking after Shrewclaw, who was already about to run on ahead.

Fallowspring gave Talltail a long look, and said quietly, “as thanks...Try to make sure some cat keeps Shrewclaw from doing something mouse-brained. If you can.”

Talltail nodded slowly “I will but...I would have thought you’d be on board with him?”

“I don’t know...I might have been once. But now my siblings and mate are all on a battle patrol without me, and I can’t do anything to help. I just don’t want any more blood to be spilled on that border. I care so much about him, but I can’t make him listen.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Talltail said, before leaving to catch up to Heatherstar, feeling Jake and Fallowspring’s anxious eyes on his back as he went.

Talltail sent a silent prayer up to the stars peeking out in the pitch dark sky. He could only hope for the best and prepare for the worst.

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#FRU46 #chapter 46

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waiting4inspiration · 5 years

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Be Ruthless X : The Past Revealed

Summary: You finally tell Ivar the things Drefan has done - or had had done - to you. You start to feel safe around him, letting him do things that you would normally flinch away from

Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of rape, can be triggering so please be careful, angst, fluff

Be Ruthless Masterlist II Vikings Masterlist

Sitting in a chair with Ivar in front of you, also on a chair, your eyes stare at the dancing flames in the heath as you teeth assault your lower lip. Tugging, nipping and peeling the flakey skin, you take in a deep breath as you prepare yourself for what you know will leave your mouth.

He’s patient. You can see it in his eyes that softly stare at your face. Knowing just a little bit of your past, he’s aware that he can’t push you to speak otherwise he’ll never get you to tell him. He’s not normally a patient man, but he has to force himself to be just that if he wants you to trust him. And he really does want you to trust him. Just as much as he wants to trust you.

Honestly, you have no idea where to start. You’ve never had someone care about you or actually sit down to listen to your side of the story. But, the best place to start is always at the beginning, right? And the beginning is just before Drefan’s succession to the throne.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shift on your seat as you tear your gaze away from the fire to glance over at Ivar. He slightly raises his head, hoping that this is the moment that you’re finally ready to speak. “Before my brother became king, we were actually very close when we were children,” you start, shocking Ivar not only at your words but at the broken tone on your voice. “But as we grew older, he wanted the power my father had as King. He craved to be powerful and he would do anything to get it. Even if that meant killing our father.”

Ivar stares at you intensely, his bright eyes making you drop your head to stare at your hands. “My father didn’t want to hand the crown over to Drefan because he thought that he wasn’t ready to be king,” you mutter, shaking your head as a small laugh escapes your mouth. “But it didn’t stop him from getting what he wanted. I begged him not to kill him and I made the mistake of pledging myself to him, saying I would do anything he asks of me,” you explain, rubbing your hands together as you bite your lip again.

“Drefan had someone else drive a sword right through my father’s heart and he made me watch the whole thing,” you state, lifting your head back up to him to find that he’s now sitting slightly closer to you on the edge of his seat, his hands folded in front of him. “His excuse to me was that he wasn’t the one that killed him. That his hands were clean. And that he would hold me up to my word.”

Taking in a sharp breath, Ivar can only deduce from what he already knows what happened next. You shake your head, biting your lip to fight back tears as you look back at the fire in the hearth. “I refused to live up to my word after what he did, thinking that there was nothing he could do to me. But as my rebellion carried on, Drefan showed me the consequences of my action through his men that are loyal to him,” you speak, saying what Ivar was thinking and making him sigh out and grind his teeth as he feels his anger towards your brother grow with each word you say. “But he would never raise his own hand against me. The king would never dare beat his own sister into submission. Everything was done through the savage men by his side,” you finish, turning your gaze back over to him.

“Your brother had other men beat and abuse you so that you would live up to a promise you made to him in desperation for your father’s life,” Ivar says, summarizing up everything you’ve basically said. Your head drops in shame before slightly nodding. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

You laugh at his words, lifting your head up to him as you shake your head. “I did. No one believed me,” you state, your fingers fumbling with each other as bad memories start to come up. “It was always my word against their king’s. I was nothing more than a stupid, naive little girl. And when Drefan found out what I did...” Your voice breaks along with the tears building up in your eyes.

Sniffing as you wipe them away, you clear your throat as your heart pounds against your chest. “He had the worst thing any woman can imagine having done to them, done to me,” you stutter out, keeping your eyes on your hands as the shame and guilt become too unbearable for you to look him in the eye. “Now’s probably the time to mention that...” you stop, struggling to push the words past your throat. “I-I’m not...a virgin.”

Ivar’s entire body tenses as he takes in a deep breath. Of course, you take this the wrong way and shrink into your body, waiting to be insulted for your infidelity. But he’s been taking everything into account. Every single word and now understands why you were trembling the night of the wedding. “He had you raped.” You cringe at the harshness of his words, folding your hands to run them up your arms as you hug your body. “Your brother had another man rape you just so that you would obey him.”

“Don’t say it like that,” you whimper, a shiver running over your body as his face - the man that raped you - flashes through your mind.

Your head snaps up when he pushes himself off his seat and stands in front of you. Holding out his hand to you, you place a shaky hand in his and stand on your feet. “I don’t care that you’re not a virgin. I’m not a Christian with stupid rules,” he states, slowly stepping towards you as his hand slowly and tenderly runs up your arms.

Slowly closing your eyes as you sigh because of his touch, you lean into his hand when it reaches the side of your face. It’s weird that his touches make you react like this. That it makes you act in the complete opposite way you would if it were another man touch you. Maybe it’s because he gives you a small warning before touching you, but you don’t care. It makes you feel things you’ve never felt in the presence of a powerful man. It makes you feel safe.

“And you are not a Christian either,” he states, your eyes opening to look at him, tears rolling down your cheek and his thumb wipes it away. “I would never have guessed what you’ve been through from just one look. And I didn’t know when I first laid eyes on you,” he whispers, wiping the tear away from the other cheek before pushing a piece of loose hair behind your ear. “You are a strong woman. A Viking.”

His words make your heart skip a beat but also a sarcastic laugh to sound from your lips. “I’m not a Christian. But I’m not a Viking either. The people don’t respect or trust me. They don’t want me as their queen because they still think that I’m a Christian princess,” you mutter in shame, lowering your gaze as staring at his chest, watching it rise and fall. “I’m a nobody.”

Shaking his head, he lifts your gaze back up to him as he leans slightly closer. “You are my wife. And that means something,” he mentions, giving you a small smile. “The wife of Ivar the Boneless is not disrespected. I’ll make sure of that.”

“I want to earn my respect here, Ivar,” you whisper, resting your hands on his chest. To you, the action comes strangely natural to you and seems like the right thing to do in this moment. “I feel like this is my chance to get away from my past life. To be the person I was before...” you trail off, dropping your head and sighing loudly. “But at the same time, I feel like my past will forever haunt me and that I will never escape my brother and his men.”

Placing two fingers under your chin, Ivar lifts your gaze back up to him. “They can’t harm you here. I swear it, the Gods as my witness. I swear it,” he states, a smile slowly appearing on your face as his finger ghost over your cheek. “And I swear, anyone that leaves a mark on your skin shall never see Valhalla.”

Shaking your head at him, you move your hand up his chest, over his shoulders and land in the sides on his neck. “You’re not like him. Like my brother,” you whisper, your eyes staring into his as his eyebrows slightly frown down at you. “You barely know me, yet you swear to protect me even if it means killing a man,” you say, thinking about that incident that happened not long ago and that lead you to this moment now. “And though, for some unknown reason, I feel safe around you. Like not even the Gods would dare harm me because of you.”

He chuckles at your words and his laugh makes the smile grow wider on your face. “You believe in the Gods?” he questions, moving his hands down your sides and landing on your hips, a sense of relief and happiness washing over him when you don’t flinch or try move out of his touch. When you just let him rest his hands on your hips as if he has done it a hundred times before.

You shrug your shoulders and smile up at him. “The more Torvi tells me about them, the more I think that maybe it was them that lead me to you,” you say, sharing the smile with him before you sigh. “Thank you for being so patient. And understanding,” you whisper, licking your lips as your heart starts to calm down, now beating at it’s usual, steady pace. “You have no idea how much of a relief it is to me that someone’s finally listening and believing in me.”

Completely lost for words at the vulnerable look in your eyes, Ivar can only stare at your face. He leans slightly closer to your face, waiting for you to flinch away. When you don’t and your eyes flicker down to his lips, he takes it as a good sign which makes him smile. He closes the gap between you, gently kissing you similar to how the kiss went during the wedding ceremony.

Not wanting to overwhelm you, he pulls back after a moment, his heart soaring when you smile up at him. “Tell me what Torvi has told you about the Gods,” he says, taking a small step back to sit back in his seat as you laugh lightly.

Tags: @tephi101 @rororo06 @flokidottir-imagines-br @mad4oak @nerdypisces160 @xinyourdreamsx @vikingaestheticsblog @xenavistania @medievalfangirl @chipster-21 @poisonous00 @mblaqgi @lol-haha-joke @inforapound @beacosta27 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @sallylebecks @faeeiiry @megzdoodle @uwucthulu @ciochesono @we-are-only-halfway-home93 @nohemi2500 @throughalltime @lovinghunty @somekindofcharly @love-hate-love @madithemagicalfangirl @ainatirb-j @laubluered @sununicorn @hufflepuffer @supermassiveblackhope @shookforyoojung @thedagnash @stars-trash-18 @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @blonddnamedhandz

#ivar the boneless imagines #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar imagine #ivar #ivar imagines #ivar ragnarsson #vikings ivar #ivar lothbrok #king ivar #vikings #history vikings #vikings imagine #vikings imagines #be ruthless

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

1836 Oct[obe]r Sat[urday] 29

8 1/4

12 3/4

No kiss H[a]d Mr. Husb[an]d at 9 for 1/2 h[ou]r then Mosey ab[ou]t a new cart and tak[in]g 2 of my old carts - told

Mr. H- [Husband] to settle ab[ou]t it - (Mr. Husb[an]d ca[me] ab[ou]t Ja[me]s Nelsons’ hav[in]g h[a]d a 2[n]d summons

for leav[in]g st[one] for water Lane mill chim[ne]y in the r[oa]d – p[ai]d 20/. fine last Sat[urday] - Mr. H- [Husband] want[e]d A- [Ann] to

pay for h[i]m this ti[me]) – F[ahrenheit] 40° at 9 1/2 and the sun shin[in]g - the gr[ou]nd cov[ere]d w[i]th snow

last night on our gett[in]g int[o] bed and cov[ere]d thick[l]y this morn[in]g - 1st snow s[in]ce last wint[e]r –

out a few min[ute]s - no workmen here b[u]t Ingh[a]m who took the slate off the old brewh[ou]se – br[eak]f[a]st at 10 5/.. to 10 40/.. A- [Ann] r[ea]d Fr[en]ch whi[le] I br[eak]f[a]st[e]d – af[te]r br[eak]f[a]st a long whi[le] in the hall

mus[in]g and consid[erin]g ab[ou]t the roof, and how to do it etc and mak[in]g out in my own mind the orig[ina]l plan

of the h[ou]se - then a few min[ute]s in the barn - Booth (David) h[a]d call[e]d en passant - no mason

here exc[ept] Amos at the Lodge prepar[in]g the rabbit[in]g for hang[in]g the out-door - In the barn when

Mr. Wilkins[o]n ca[me] ab[ou]t 11 50/.. as surrogate to prove my a[un]t’s will – expl[aine]d - swore her

personalty und[e]r £20 – p[ai]d Mr. W- [Wilkinson] (who st[ai]d ab[ou]t 20 min[ute]s) £1.15.0 his charge + 4/2

ov[e]r = 2 sov[erei]gns – ver[y] bil[iou]s for the last day or 2, and partic[ularl]y so this morn[in]g – ga[ve] Mr. W- [Wilkinson] a

wrong date of my a[un]t’s death the 3[r]d inst[ea]d of the 3[r]d inst[ant] - and wr[ote] therefo[re] as foll[ow]s to go by Geo[rge] the

gr[oo]m this aft[ernoo]n -‘Shibd[e]n hall. Sat[urday] 29 Oct[obe]r 1836 ‘Sir - I casually ment[ione]d to you this morn[in]g

‘my hav[in]g a bil[iou]s headache, and I trust this will be my excuse for hav[in]g told you that my a[un]t di[e]d

‘on Mon[day] the 3[r]d ins[tea]d of on Mon[day] the 10th inst[ant] - Miss Walker begs her comp[limen]ts w[i]th my own to the Miss

Wilkinsons - I am sir, very truly yours, A. Lister’ ‘The rev[eren]d Rob[er]t Wilkins[o]n Heath’ - then h[a]d

Mr. Jubb 1/2 h[ou]r till 2 - A- [Ann] pret[ty] well, d[i]d n[o]t, as I expect[e]d, get a bad cold cold by her

thorough starv[in]g yest[erday] at Shugden head – w[e]nt to see ab[ou]t the st[one] there – fr[om] 2 to 6 h[a]d one

or oth[e]r - my pay day – p[ai]d Ingh[a]m for Hilltop fence wall[in]g and for work here at the

dry wall arch[in]g up to last night inclus[ive] – Settl[e]d w[i]th John Booth - then h[a]d Jos[e]ph Mann

and bef[ore] I h[a]d done w[i]th h[i]m (ab[ou]t 3 1/2) Mr. Lister the appraiser ca[me] – shew[e]d him my a[un]ts’

clothes – expl[aine]d – s[ai]d I h[a]d sworn her personalty und[e]r £20 s[ai]d that I h[a]d f[ou]nd in h[e]r purse

on[l]y 3 1/2 sov[erei]gns and 6/6. - then ord[ere]d Mr. Lister warm spic[e]d beer, and to be shewn int[o] the h[ou]sekeeper’s

r[oo]m, and w[e]nt b[a]ck to Jos[e]ph Mann - Long talk ab[ou]t the coll[ier]y – ab[ou]t 300 l[oa]ds of coal up at Walker

pit – ord[ere]d 100 l[oa]ds to be sold and the rest kept for the h[ou]se - Mr. Rawson h[a]s rais[e]d his coal to 1/. p[e]r

l[oa]d and gi[ve]s 5/6 p[e]r l[oa]ds score for gett[in]g and h[a]s giv[e]n his men 25/. a piece and hir[e]d for 6 or 12 m[on]ths at

5/6 p[e]r score - the Long goit thro’ the Ing terrib[l]y rotten stuff to dri[ve] thro’ - may be up at

Mytholm bridge in 6 w[ee]ks fr[om] this ti[me] - 180 y[ar]ds fr[om] Listerwick Engine pit to List[er]w[i]ck coal

pit - to bot[tom] the Engine pit, and dri[ve] the 180 y[ar]ds and bot[tom] List[er]w[i]ck pit will ta[ke] till next June –

the engine p[i]t will n[o]t be bottom[e]d till the end of Ap[ril] or int[o] May –

Jos[e]ph Mann h[a]s bor[e]d 6ft. 6in. in Lit[tle] marsh quarry hole that he h[a]s just sunk (an oblong

hole) - and bef[ore] boring h[a]d sunk 12ft. 6in. deep - 12.6. + 6.6 =19ft. deep of throw[in]g out and

boring and in this depth are the foll[owin]g strata –

pr[ove]d my a[un]ts’ will

val[ue] of my a[un]ts’ person[alt]y

Lit[tle] marsh st[one]

253

1836

Oct[obe]r

Lit[tle] marsh quarry hole.

thickness

ft. in.

no. 1 soil 0.6

. 2 worse d[itt]o 0.6

. 3 skegs 3.0 + 1 ft. of this ver[y] decent slate.

. 4 good riving st[one] flags etc. 5.0 +

. 5 mare and ackerspire 3.0 varies; thick[r]r and thinner; will av[era]ge 4ft.

+ 6 good riv[in]g st[one] strong[e]r than no.

4 b[u]t in water. 3.0 strong[e]r i.e. thick[e]r lifts; mo[re] ashler-like, b[u]t like[l]y to rive pret[ty] well

call[e]d the wat[e]r lift. a thin shelly part[in]g bet[ween] the 1st f[oo]t and the 2 oth[e]r f[oo]t of this lift.

7 stone qual[it]y unknown 0.11

8 some kind of soft stuff 2.6

9 some k[i]nd of stone 0.6? bored int[o] it 6in.? JM- [Joseph Mann] s[ai]d a few in[ch]

+ Beg[a]n boring aft[e]r the 1st f[oo]t of no. 6 .:.

bored 2.0

0.11

2.6

0.6?

5. 11

but J. Mann tells me he h[a]s bored 6ft. 6in.

told him to level, and see wh[a]t fall we h[a]d and if the wat[e]r c[oul]d be tak[e]n

off no. 6 in a drift to pay for the exp[ense] – to see to wh[a]t gr[ea]t[e]st depth the wat[e]r c[oul]d be g[o]t off.

ft. in.

Stone no. 3 1.0

. 4. 5.0

. 6 3.0

good stone = 9.0

Told Jos[e]ph to get a hole or one hole at each extrem[it]y of the st[one] put d[o]wn for A- [Ann] at

Shugden head as soon as he c[oul]d - told h[i]m to th[in]k ab[ou]t an arrangem[en]t ab[ou]t Whiskum r[oa]d

he s[ai]d he w[ou]ld ta[ke] it and keep it in repair (aft[e]r being put in repair) - and keep a regul[a]r acc[oun]t

of the toll tak[e]n for 6 m[on]ths or 12 m[on]ths w[hi]chev[e]r I lik[e]d - I s[ai]d eith[e]r w[oul]d do - we shall see at

the end of one of these terms wh[a]t the r[oa]d costs and wh[a]t it pays and then settle so[me]th[in]g –

aft[e]r Jos[e]ph Mann, h[a]d Rob[er]t Mann and Mark Hepw[or]th and settl[e]d w[i]th b[o]th and then h[a]d Mr. Husb[an]d

till aft[e]r 6 - the magist[ra]tes fined Ja[me]s Nelson 31/. + costs =40/. this morn[in]g (vid[e] line 2 of this

morn[in]g) – ga[ve] Mr. H- [Husband] 2 sov[erei]gns for JN- [James Nelson] b[u]t to tell him that he m[u]st pay for hims[elf] in fut[ure] –

Mosey agreed w[i]th Mr. Husb[an]d this morn[in]g to ma[ke] a capit[a]l new br[oa]d wheel[e]d cart for £25

and to ta[ke] my 2 old carts for £5 .:. I shall as it were get my new cart for £20 – din[ner] at 7 –

coff[ee] upst[ai]rs – h[a]d Geo[rge] up to find fault ab[ou]t his n[o]t com[in]g b[a]ck this ev[enin]g till aft[e]r 7 the note being

giv[e]n to h[i]m at 3 1/2 p.m. – s[ai]d he d[i]d n[o]t get off till 5 - A- [Ann] g[o]t Robertson’s Life of Ch[arle]s V

[cuarto] fr[om] the lib[rar]y tonight - we sat look[in]g int[o] it - or rath[e]r she r[ea]d me 10 or 12 p[ages] of the

Introd[uctio]n – fr[om] 10 1/2 to 11 5/.. wr[ote] all the ab[ov]e of today - Ingham +...... d[i]d n[o]t work

in the aft[ernoo]n - too wintery - fine (overhead) in the morn[in]g till bet[ween] 12 and 1 – aft[er]w[ar]ds snowy

and wintery - deep snow on the gr[ou]nd - no do[in]g anyth[in]g out of doors – F[ahrenheit] 33° now at 11 5/.. p.m.

and fair and starlight – Lett[er] tonight 1 p[age] fr[om] Mr. Lister 11 Stockwell common - in ans[we]r to

my let[ter] on the d[ea]th of my a[un]t – condol[en]ce and thanks for my hav[in]g remitt[e]d the rent to his moth[e]r

at midsumm[e]r

Whiskum r[oa]d

agreem[en]t w[i]th JM. [Joseph Mann]

new cart Nelson’s fine

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machinedalal · 2 months

Text

Used Laminating Machine for SALE

EXCELAM - II-355Q

Buy Directly from SELLER -

Manufacturer: EXCELAM

Year: 2006

Machine Availability: Immediately

Price: On Request

Location: Italy

#print #press #Machinedalal

#offset #heidelberg #sheetfed #print #packaging

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milliondollarbaby87 · 4 years

Text

From Gotham’s White Knight to Two-Face

“You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

This was something uttered by the new Gotham district attorney not long after he had begun to get involved with the true low life and scum of the city. Predicting his very own future something that he probably wouldn’t have even believed himself. Happy with his life and how everything just seemed to be falling into place for his professional and personal life. Although his turn to become the villain would not be well known and his death was used to highlight the good side and not the monster that he had become. Rachel’s death pushed him to a very dark place very quickly, going from the incredible hero making such a difference to then going about avenging her death with the traitors within the police force to the mob and more importantly to The Joker.

I have watched The Dark Knight many times now and on a recent cinema trip to eventually witness it in all the IMAX glory it got me thinking about Harvey Dent. Thinking about how we don’t really talk about him that much when discussing The Dark Knight. I mean we all know why because Heath Ledger’s Joker is utterly breathtaking and scene stealing. But that is not meant to take away anything from Aaron Eckhart and the marvellous performance he puts in as Harvey Dent and then later Two-Face. I would even go as far saying it is one of the most impressive turns from good to evil as a character within Nolan’s trilogy. While some characters are walking a fine line between the good side of them and the bad side of them. Dent completely goes from one extreme to the other in dramatic fashion.

Batman highlights to Jim Gordon that Dent was the very best of them and that was the reason why The Joker wanted to bring him down. The toughest target and to prove the point that everyone could be corrupted and changed if you managed to push them far enough. Obviously Dent had no idea that Bruce Wayne was Batman, so the link with Rachel was rather awkward for Wayne. Immediately Dent wanted to get to meet Batman and when the press conference is called he did not actually want the man behind the mask to step forward. Sacrificing himself in hope that Batman would indeed to the right thing in saving him.

A small joke made by Rachel about how terrified Harvey was of the trust fund brigade, but this was very interesting to see unfold when he could not cope with Bruce Wayne and his pals. The fundraiser that was thrown in his honour was something that he did not really want to do or attend. Which shows his character in different situations as he was quite happy going up against the mob and criminals of Gotham even having a gun pointed at him in court not effecting him as much as the rich socialites of the city.

The panic of trying to free himself from being tied up whilst also talking to his love Rachel was never going to end well. A very cruel technique used as they both left with people they trusted and woke up tied up, with a timer and being able to speak to each other. Having to try and reassure the other that everything was going to be ok. That was far from the truth as Batman and Gordon attempted to get the locations of the pair. Falling into oil drums and being stuck on the floor with the oil, mixed with fire was never going to be a good combination, especially as he also had to say goodbye to Rachel.

The build up to seeing him physically injured from the incident was rather impressive, as we see that his nickname given when he was working internal affairs was about to become very true. He really had become Two-Faced. But while visually we can see he has changed the important thing to really focus on is that as a person his spirit was well and truly broken. So much so that he would never be the same again, especially when it comes to the choices he makes when seeking revenge. I also feel it is possible that his new outlook on life links with how he looks, so with his features being destroyed by the oil people will expect him to be a monster.

We instantly see him become the villain when waking up with his face melted off basically, then seeing his coin on the bedside table knowing that Rachel was not saved. She had his double headed coin, something that she did not realise to begin with when he loved leaving things to chance. Now though the coin would also become a symbol of his new dark side, one side of the coin had been burnt. This was one of his trademarks of leaving things to chance, although in his lighter days he always said heads for what he wanted the outcome to be knowing that was the only option. Now it would become a sinister game and first used with none other than The Joker, something he certainly likes very much!

In that very sense The Joker had already won, he took Gotham’s real hero with a face and proud to represent and be changing the city, not needing a mask like Batman and destroyed everything about him. Taking away someone you love being the worst possible thing to happen. That is what he cannot deal with at all, after the encounter with The Joker and managing to escape the hospital before it was blown up he sets on his way to find the people responsible and involved in Rachel’s death. Picking them off one by one and letting the coin decide, as soon as he makes the first kill it is sure that he will never be the white knight again.

The turning on Jim Gordon and forcing him to lie to his family, holding his young son at gun point. That really is one very dark turn right? Especially when Batman seems to take forever to arrive. Anyway the final scene and moments with Dent really show that he had become the evil monster, the villain that he predicted right at the start of the film. Although Batman was not going to allow the world to know about Harvey Dent becoming the villain, he was symbol in a different way to the dark knight and everyone just needed to continue the good work he started.

The Dark Knight: The Rise and Fall of Harvey Dent From Gotham’s White Knight to Two-Face “You either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain”

#Aaron Eckhart #Batman #Bruce Wayne #Christian Bale #Christopher Nolan #Gary Oldman #Gotham City #Harvey Dent #Heath Ledger #Maggie Gyllenhaal #The Dark Knight #The Dark Knight Trilogy #The Joker #Trilogy #Two Face

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wordlessbabbling · 4 years

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Gun Metal and Daisies (Thomas Shelby)- Chapter 22

“Would you ever want to fall in love?”

Masterlist

The fact that the word 'lovesick' exists, that the simple absence of a person can make you feel physically ill, says a great deal about the terrible power of the human heart.

Thomas was sat in his small office at his small desk in the small betting shop. He filed through papers that he meant to work through, to examine and sign if he felt like it.

Though when he picked up the last sheet, it was in fact an envelope.

It was addressed to him in a scrawl that looked far too good for a lowly mans complaint.

He knew what was in the letter, but he didn't know what to think about it.

In his hands he held Grace's letter. The one she gave to him the night before she left for New York, asking him to run away with her.

He obviously didn't go with her that night on account that he was still in Birmingham; but he thought about her letter. He thought about the address which she listed at the bottom of the page, the place she was going to inhabit across the oceans.

Thomas, for some unknown reason, didn't throw the letter away, nor did he burn it. He left it on his desk, in between the files. He left it for another time.

It's not like Grace wasn't going to be there, should he journey off to wherever she now lived.

——

It was the seventh week of Thomas' and Dorothy's late night Saturday meetings.

They truly were Thomas' favourite time of the week. It was the time the two could be completely alone as they picked and prodded at the others brain.

Thomas had now formed a small acquaintance with the children that visited Bonny on Saturday nights for left overs.

Thomas now often found himself talking to the five children that popped in on those nights while Dorothy tried her best to feed the small baby, Tammy.

Thomas told fun stories from when he was younger to the children as best he could. Though more often than not, the kids would complain and whine as he drifted off a bit when he got lost staring at Dorothy as she looked after the small girl.

"Please, Bubs, finish the story, Charlie looks like he's going to burst from anticipation." Dorothy giggled a bit when he caught her eye and paused the story to stare.

Charlie was nine years older than Tammy, making him ten. He was the one that decided the Shelby man was a minor threat compared to the men outside the homely bakery and the two got on like a house on fire. It was truly endearing to watch.

Generally while the other three kids sat around the table, talking with Bonny, Charlie wondered over with two pieces of bread, offered one to Thomas and sat next to him.

At first, Thomas decided it wasn't worth befriending a ten year old, of course. But then as time wore on, the two found themselves going from discussing mundane things and their favourite sweet Bonny made to their day to day and both their adoration for the woman in front of them.

Charlie was the second oldest of the group, just a few months younger than Matilda who was almost eleven.

Thomas did always have a soft spot for children and just had a sense of sympathy for them. He knew kids had to grow up quickly now and there wasn't much room to ever enjoy youth as it was.

Charlie, he learned, was handy with a football and had a nack for the sport. Thomas remembered years of playing footie in the park with John. He wasn't the best at it, but the determination to push his younger brother to the ground whenever he got in his way was much stronger than winning.

So Thomas liked football too.

Now Thomas became the resident story master on these nights. Some of the kids stood a bit of a way back, still cautious of the Shelby man, while others sat right at his feet.

It was moments like these that Thomas craved for a family. Where he could have children and a loving wife, someone like Bonny, who was caring and kind-hearted and pure and everything Thomas ever wanted.

After Thomas had finished the story, and Dorothy had put the extra bits of food in a bag, the children scurried off into the night.

The pair stood at the window, waiting for them to go around the corner until they were out of sight before Dorothy spoke, "Charlie's a sweet boy."

Thomas hummed slowly. Thomas wouldn't say it out loud, but he was definitely Thomas' favourite. He had grown fond of the boy who seemingly had to grow up too fast, shepherding the other children, trying to keep them safe.

Charlie did most of the odd jobs. He cleaned strangers shoes for a quick shilling and delivered messages for people who didn't have time for letters. He did what he could.

Thomas found that the two were similar. Charlie tried his best to do what he could for his peculiar family the same way Thomas did.

Everything was for his family.

Thomas admired that in the boy.

——

The two made their way to the back of the bakery to the kitchen.

Thomas now had an allocated seat at the side to sit and ponder while Dorothy busied herself with baking.

This time though, Thomas did something different.

"How do you make that Billion Dollar shite?" He stated rather crudely.

Dorothy giggled slightly, "C'mere, I'll show you."

This was very new. Usually Thomas sat back and watched. He would ask questions or he would answer them.

His next words probably shocked him most, "orright."

Thomas heaved himself out of his chair and stumbled over in Dorothy'a general direction.

"What're you doing here? Wash your hands first! Didn't your aunt eva' teach you 'bout hygiene?'

Thomas held up his hands and ambled to the sink, dipping them under the water briefly. "Good enough."

When he finally got round to standing beside her she already had the ingredients out, he took off his blazer and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. Dorothy briefly appreciated the look before moving on.

She got to work commanding, "mix this!" Or, "pour that!" And "No, that's far too much!"

Thomas huffed a little, he wasn't exactly used to being spoken to like that. Had she been anyone else, he probably would have cut her a long time ago.

"Since when were you so demanding, huh?" He nudged her a bit.

"Since this is my ball park. This isn't your betting shop, nor the streets of Small Heath. This is my territory, Mister!"

Thomas chuckled at her answer, he didn't mention the fact that he was very sure this bakery was in his territory in Small Heath, but he accepted that this was her safe space, he was only a guest.

After the last of the treats had gone in the oven, Thomas decided that maybe baking wasn't for him, but he'd do it a thousand times again for that kind of experience with his Bonny. She truly was at peace when she was working with her sweets.

But now that they had approximately 20 minutes to kill, Thomas decided to take the lead now.

He rifled through her collection of records and pulled out a nice jazzy one that he hoped he remembered the moves to.

"Oh now that's a good one!" Dorothy chimed over his shoulder, startling him a bit as he was too busy recollecting the actions to the piece.

"Go on, Bubs, dance with me!" She flicked her dress about a bit, giggling as she made big gestures with her hands which Thomas reciprocated with an over exaggerated bow.

"As you wish, Miss. Bonny."

The two pranced around the kitchen, at times she was much too far away from him and he wished he'd picked a slower one.

By the time the record was finished the two had five minutes to waste until they had to stop the sweets from burning.

They settled down again in a position very familiar to the two. Thomas sat in his chair while Dorothy sat adjacent on the counter beside him, her shins brushing his knees.

"Would you ever want to fall in love with someone, Bonny?" The question didn't startle Dorothy, but she didn't exactly expect it.

"I'm not sure, Bubs."

"How could you not want to fall in love?" Thomas furrowed his brows as he stared up at her. He adjusted their position so her stocking clad feet her resting on his lap, he brushed his thumb against the side of her ankles. He made note of the fact that she somehow managed to kick off her shoes midway through their dance.

"Easy. I don't want my happiness to depend on whether or not a person gives their attention to me. I don't want to stay up late wondering whether they are thinking about me. I don't want to cry over someone who may not care. I don't want to stare at the postman to see whether they sent a letter in the morning. Most importantly, I don't want to give anyone the power to hurt me."

"Why 'they'? Something you've got to tell me?" He stared up at her.

"I don't know, Bubs? Is there something you should know?" She challengingly stared back down at him.

"I'm a modern man, Bonny." He tilted his head to the side.

"Well that's very good. Though, I'm more just opened minded. I don't know what I want, nor the kind of person. Never been in a relationship."

Thomas only nodded. "So you don't want to fall in love with no one?"

"I never said that." Dorothy wiggled her ankles out of his grasp and got off the counter. Thomas sat back and stared at the place where she sat only a second ago, trying to process the information.

Dorothy got to work with taking the sweets out of the furnaces, "your Billion dollar Bubs are looking good, Bubs." She giggled at her own joke.

Thomas didn't answer only continuing to stare off to the side.

Dorothy finished setting out the sweets to cool.

She meandered around for a while, pretending to gather her things, when really she was just milling about, refusing to admit the night has ended and she'd have to leave Thomas until Monday.

Thomas slowly came back to the present and started gathering his things. The two walked to the entrance of the bakery, Dorothy turned to lock up and place the key in the potted plant.

"C'mon. I'll walk you home." This was also new. It seemed Thomas also did not want the night to end.

He held out his arm, naïvely. He should have known that she'd go for his hand. He wasn't complaining.

The two walked to Dorothy's place in silence. Just enjoying the ambiance of the brief moment Small Heath went to sleep.

It was only when they turned to Dorothy's Lane that Thomas spoke up, "so you've NEVER been in a relationship, eh?"

Dorothy giggled and slapped his chest, "shut up!"

"You've got to have had your first kiss though, right?"

Dorothy stared sheepishly at the ground.

Thomas gaped a bit like a fish. He couldn't believe it, really.

If he was honest with himself, he was rather glad about the fact that she hadn't been in a relationship or missed anyone yet. If he was even more honest with himself, the only reason he was happy was because that way, he could be her first kiss and relationship.

But he refused to admit the latter to himself.

Those kind of demons were for another time maybe.

The two parted ways at Dorothy's doorstep. Dorothy turning around to give him the tightest squeeze she could, knowing she wouldn't be able to see him until Monday. She tried her best to remember the way he smelled and the way his warmth felt. He was warm to her.

The two quite solemnly parted ways.

——

ANOTHER ONE! YAYYYY!

Thanks for the love.

Feedback and comments are wanted.

See ya next time!

#tommyshelby #peaky blinders story #peakyblinders #thomas #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #peaky blinder fanfic #thomasshelbyfluff #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #peakyblinderstv #peaky fookin blinders

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tikkisaram · 5 years

Text

St. Nick’s Visit

[Clement Clarke Moore - A Visit from St. Nicholas ]

Read the original poem here.

Lipolation:

'Twas the Evening of Xmas, and inside the house Not a being was moving, not even a mouse; The stockings hung out in the shine of the moon, In hopes that St. Nick would be coming down soon;

The young ones hushed up so snug in the beds, With visions of candy canes dancing in heads; And mamma and I had both donned a thick cap, And we both just sat down to enjoy a nice nap,

When outside the house sudden came a commotion, I hopped out of my bed to see what was the notion. Away to the window I went in a dash, I opened it wide and I yanked up the sash.

The moon on the head of the soft-sifted snow Gave each object an icy and shiny chapeau, When, what by my shocked eyes should pass at such speeds, But a big bunch of toy-bags, and eight tiny steeds,

And the aged man on top was so active and quick, I knew with no doubt that it must be St. Nick. As speedy as pigeons his pack of eight came, He commanded, and shouted, and bid them by name;

"Now, Dashey! now, Dancey! now, Chancey and Vixen! On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donna and Bitzen! To the top of the house! to the top of it yon! Now dash away! dash away! dash away on!"

As the specks and the dust that the winds heave up high, When they meet with an object, they mount to the sky, So upside the house the pack went with a shoo, With the bags stuffed with toys, and St. Nick with them too.

And then, in a dash, they came down with a poof, And then came the pawing of each tiny hoof. As I spun back about, having noticed the sound, Down the chimney St. Nick came with many a bound.

He had donned a big coat that went down to his foot, And his hat was so stained with the ashes and soot; A big bag of toys he had hung on his back, As if pushing his goods, and just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they shone! and his big cheeks how cute! His skin was quite dun, his nose was a beaut! His tiny nice mouth was tied up in a bow, And the hue of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he had tight in his teeth, And the smoke hung about as a fog on a heath; He had a wide face and a tiny wide tummy, Because Nick was quite quick to eat anything yummy.

He was chubby and stout, and yet moved at such pace, That the sight of his steps gave a beam to my face; A wink of his eye and a twist of his head, Soon gave me St. Nick, and yet nothing he said;

He did out his duty in quiet, with heed, And stuffed out the socks with astonishing speed, And putting his hand just aside of his nose, And giving a nod, up the chimney he goes!

He hopped back away, to his team gave a shout, And away dashed St. Nick, past the house and then out. But I saw him whoop out, as he sped out of sight, HAPPY XMAS TO YOU, AND TO YOU A GOOD-NIGHT!

A lovely lipolation for Christmas Eve, in my opinion! ;^) The term 'Xmas' is recommended against in some style guides, but it dates back to the 16th century, so given the difficulty inherent in this lipolation, I think that it is entirely acceptable.

#lipolation #poetry #constrained writing #clement clarke moore #pweek #christmas

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fathertaurus · 6 years

Text

I Want Them to Hear 🍃

from the prompt kaleigh gave me about david trying to prove he’s good in bed by fucking you loudly enough for everyone to hear. lol enjoy.

David held a strained grip on the wheel of the Tesla. You could see the hairs on his arm raised in agitation. He was silently shaking his head. Meanwhile the mockery from the boys in the backseat continued to echo around the walls of the car. You sat next to him in the passenger seat, a pitying look on your face and a hand rubbing his thigh for comfort.

It had been a few hours since you had showed up to Jason and Todd’s house, where you found out Jason was conducting a part two to his lie detector video. This time he wanted everyone who had chickened out for the last one. First Carly went, then Scott, then Suzy, then Erin, and then you. It wasn’t that bad. People asked the obvious ones:

Are you really in love with David? Yes. True.

Have you ever cheated on him? No. True.

Have you ever fantasized about anyone else in this room? No. Lie.

You rolled your eyes and admitted Corinna might have crossed your mind before you and David were together.

She stuck out her tongue at him. “That’s payback,” she smirked.

Everyone laughed, but it was no big deal. Every question passed with either the truth or a little laugh at your ashamed lying. It was going smoothly.

Until the last question, which Zane snuck in right as you thought it was over. You started to stand up and suddenly he threw in a grand finale, “Is David the best sex you’ve ever had?”

You breathed out, shocked by the last second inclusion. “Uhh yeah,” you stuttered. It wasn’t something you’d contemplated before.

“Lie,” the polygraph’s monotone operator defied you.

“What, no! I was moving. Ask me again.” You sat down and relaxed your spine, trying to keep your breathing even.

“Is David good in bed?”

“Yes.”

“Lie.”

“What the fuck?” you asked, exasperated.

“Yeah I was about to ask the same question,” David joked, a tint of hurt in his voice.

“Oh David, that’s so sad baby,” Zane teased.

“I could lend you some toys, David. There’s no shame in needing a little extra help,” Trisha suggested. She was serious and you groaned at the thought of your friends intervening in your sex life. “Right babe?”

Jason was too beside himself to respond to Trish, “Finally something David sucks at. I cannot wait to edit this vlog motherfucker. Pose for a thumbnail. And really try to work up some tears if you can.”

“He’s good!” you protested. “I’m just overthinking it and the test is reading it wrong. I swear.” No one wanted to listen. There was too much joy in watching David put his face in his hands, every camera on the room was trained on him.

Now you were riding next to him in his car, as he drove some of the gang to his house. The same strained discomfort was there in his eyes as Zane, Jonah, Todd, Heath, and Mariah tore into him. They were a group of friends always on the precipice of humiliating one another. David was often the instigator. Rarely the target. They had ammunition against him now and they weren’t about to let it go. At that moment Jonah was making some claim about how he could get any woman into bed with him —that he knew how to make them scream too. You gagged.

“Jonah you’re such a liar. Your dick is like two inches. Shut the fuck up!” David huffed.

“Yeah well at least I can satisfy a woman with my dick,” he giggled, his tongue poking out between his teeth.

It continued like that until you pulled into the driveway. The guys moved on eventually, as they made it to David’s fully stocked fridge and had their share of free Coronas. You stayed in the living room idly chatting with everyone for the next few hours, but you’d been up early that day and sleep was starting to creep in on you.

You yawned, lifting your arms over your head, “That’s it. I gotta sleep guys.”

There was a chorus of feeble protesting but you shook them off and made your way to David’s bedroom. “Goodnight,” you called behind you as you shut the door. You took off your makeup, threw on some pajamas, and brushed your teeth. As you clicked the light off in the ensuite bathroom, you heard the bedroom door open and close. A figure walked toward you in the darkness and could make out David as your eyes began to adjust.

“Hey babe—“ he cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You leaned into his kiss, parting your lips. He was eager. You let your arms wrap around his shoulders lazily as he did most of the work, earning a moan from you. He left your lips to kiss a trail down your neck.

“What are you doing?” you asked breathlessly, as he paused to lift your shirt off. He pulled it over your head and let it fall somewhere on the floor. You stood topless before him now.

“Hmmm pretty girl,” he mused. “Want me to stop?” The words came out in a mumbled growl, as he’d returned his lips to the base of your neck. He was making his way down to your collarbone. You shook your head and added “No,” as you gulped for air. His hands gripped the sides of your waist, but as he worked he moved them to the waistband of your shorts. His lips found your breasts as his fingers breached the hem of your underwear.

“Everyone gone?” you inquired, with what little breath you could conjure.

“Nope,” he said. Smug. “I left everyone in the living room. Told them I needed to grab something from my bedroom quickly.”

His hand was still manuerving down to your slit. You were already wet, just from his hot breath all over your skin. He kissed you again as he started to rub a circular pattern over your clit. Then he reversed direction, pulled back a little, and his pointer finger found the entrance to your pussy. He started with one finger, keeping his thumb outside your body, massaging your clit. He fingered you slowly, steadily, purposefully. When he felt you start to clench around his fingers he pulled his hand away. You whimpered unintentionally, your lips vibrating against his.

“Sorry,” he laughed into the kiss. He slid his hands back down in between your thighs. He pulled them apart a bit more this time, forcing your knees to buckle a bit before you gained balance in this stance. Again he found your clit with his thumb while he slipped two fingers into you. The other hand was now gripping your ass. He got you close to your orgasm again. Your head titled back as your breath came in shallow staccatos. Then as he felt your pussy tighten, he removed his hands again.

“David! Please stop!” you whispered. You now realized he was edging you, but you couldn’t take the teasing.

“Sorry, sorry. Just lay down on the bed. I’ll take care of you in a second.” You did as he said, falling back into the soft sheets and spreading your aching legs. You watched as he slide his bottoms off, searching for a condom in his desk drawer while his free hand jerked himself off. He was hard by the time he found one and rolled it on. He found you again in the darkness and you could see his bright eyes admiring you from above. He reached out his thumb again, pulling it from your entrance to your clit in a circle. He stopped, leaned forward, and presented his thumb in front of your mouth. You sucked on it for him, trying to swipe your tongue up the side as he pulled away. You wanted him as desperate as you. It was no use.

He wrenched your legs apart, using your inner thighs to hold himself steady. Slowly, he entered you. Just the tip of his cock. He stared you down with a silent intensity that demanded you beg for it.

“Please just put it in already,” you hissed. He chuckled and eased into you once, painfully slowly so you could feel every inch, before pulling all the way out. He tapped his dick against your clit.

“Tell me. What do you want me to do?”

“Please just fuck me!” you tried to whisper, but the moment got the better of you. It came out full volume, maybe loud enough for everyone to hear. You clasped a hand over your mouth, shocked at yourself. He positioned himself at the entrance to your pussy again. You could barely keep from shouting now as you squirmed underneath him. You bucked your hips trying desperately to make contact. He smiled. Confident. He’d never made you beg like this, but he loved the power.

“I want them to hear how bad you want it.” You finally realized what he was doing. What would make him happy. He’d been working you up in the hopes you’d be more vocal than you usually were. You were typically quiet for Natalie’s sake and because you were content whispering nasty things in his ears. Just for him to hear. You were never a screamer. You could change that for him though.

“Just fuck me already!” you were nearly shouting. They heard that. That was the encouragement he needed and he slammed into you full force. He put his elbows on either side of your head so that he could pound into you as fast as possible. His eyes were closed and his face was only a few inches from yours. You loved watching the torment and pleasure play across his expression.

The bed was sturdy, but the unusual force was making it rock. The mattress careened and buckled, creaking lightly. If no one had heard your voice, they would definitely hear the movement. You moaned loudly for their benefit too.

“Your cock feels so fucking good baby.”

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Yeah. Fuck me just like that. Just like that,” you gave your best fake whine that you’d picked up from girls in porn. You bit your lip a little to keep from smiling.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he panted, losing stamina a bit. You wrapped your legs around his back and helped guide him in. You reached down to rub your own clit right as your skin began to tingle and your pussy clenched. Your orgasm hit you like a load of bricks. All the edging had prepared you for a massive impact. Your whole body cramped, your back left the mattress, your eyes glazed over, and you let a genuine scream escape your lips on this occasion. You could barely hear him tell you he was cumming over the ringing in your ears. He pulled out and came, falling on top of you in the process. You both breathed heavily, wet with sweat and physically exhausted.

“Do you think they heard us?” he asked, laughing.

“Yeah, I think they’ll shut up now.” You joked back.

#david dobrik smut #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik blurb #submission

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