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fanfictionaries · 4 years

Note

I know you have a lot to write, but I do have one request. I dont normally do that, so if it's not good or something just let me know. But I had this idea. A Bucky and Reader, where they are together for a while and she wants to ask Bucky to move in with her. But Bucky has uncertainties about their relationship and is thinking to actually break up with the reader. I want there to be angst but I don't know how it would end... Whether a fluff ending or an angst one I don't mind :)

This is a wonderful request and I loved doing it! Not gonna lie - it took me a little out of my element. I had to sit and have a long, hard think about how to approach it and do it justice, but I think I may have cracked it. Hopefully you enjoy it!

From Now On - Communication

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Words: 5k

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST!, Mentions of death/murder, Little Fluff, Sam being a really great friend.

Author’s Note: I loved this request so much! Nothing I love more than an angsty Bucky and some miscommunication!

I loved doing this, so please people. Send me more requests!

***

“I think I’m gonna break up with (Y/N).” There. He’d said it. It had been on his mind all week long. He’d kept it tucked away, tried to hide it, but the further he buried it the worse it clawed and scratched at his brain, trying to worm its way out.

“Really? I was thinking about getting a full back tattoo of you riding the cap shield like a surfboard,” grunted Sam, working his way through the last of his set of bicep curls.

“What?” Bucky asked in confusion, looking to his partner.

Sam shrugged, standing and placing the heavy dumbbell back in its place, “Well, I just figured since we were saying stupid shit today, I’d join in.”

“Sam, I’m being serious here man.”

“Oh, I know you are, Tinman. That’s why I think you’ve lost your god damn mind. Why would you want to break up with (Y/N)? She’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to you—” Sam walked across the gym, grabbing his water bottle before making his way to Bucky “—I mean, I still can’t understand how you landed her. She’s way too good for you.”

“I know!” The words came out more raucous and forceful than he intended. Sinking down onto a nearby bench, Bucky braced his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang low, “I know. That’s the problem. She’s too good for me.”

“Don’t tell me this is another one of those ‘Poor me. I’m too broken and damaged for her to love me.’ things. Because if it is, I’m gonna’ have to kick your ass,” said Sam, raising an eyebrow at the sulking man in front of him.

“No, no. It’s not that—”

“You know I’ll do it.”

“I know and it’s not—well it’s a little bit of that but—I just…”

“What? Is she too pretty? Too smart? Too nice? Too eager to put up with your shit?”

“No! It’s none of that!” shouted Bucky, beginning to wonder why he ever thought to confide in the irritating man in front of him. Oh right – because he didn’t have any other friends.

“Then what is it?” Sam asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She wants to break up with me, but she’s too nice to just pull the trigger. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” Bucky stood, grabbing his towel and stalking towards the water fountain—his anger and irritation manifesting in the physical need to move.

Sam, hot on his heel, followed him, leaning against the wall as Bucky bent to get a drink. The cool water sent icy chills though his body as it flowed down his throat. “Did she tell you this? Did you physically hear her say that?”

“No, but I’m not an idiot, Sam. I know when a dame is trying to end things without really ending them. As much as people like to think ghosting is a new concept, it’s really not. In fact, if anything it was easier for gals to just disappear and avoid you in the 40s than it is now. Either way – you eventually get the message.” As much as he hoped the cold water would cool him down, his anger continued to bubble. Anger not for Sam. Not even for you. But for himself. This was his fault after all. He scared you off.

Bucky sighed, continuing to stare down at the waterspout below him, the water flowing crystal clear, swirling around the basin and disappearing down the drain, “She’s been avoiding me. She won’t answer my calls. Barely calls me back. When I do happen to get ahold of her, she’s short. Tries to end the call as quickly as possible. I was supposed to come over last night and she cancelled on me. She never cancels on me.”

“Have you tried being direct with her? Asking her what’s going on?” asked Sam, his tone softer, kinder now that he understood the full extent of the situation.

“Yea. She keeps insisting that nothing’s going on. But I—I know she’s lying. Lying about something! I mean, you don’t do what we do for a living and not know when people are lying straight to your face.”

Running a hand over his cropped hair, he looked to Sam for help. As much as they liked to give each other shit, he had begrudgingly come to rely on his partner for the things he used to rely on Steve for. Friendship. Companionship. Emotional support. All that sappy shit. Much to his annoyance, Sam was really good at it too. All the sappy shit.

“Look, I don’t wanna’ pry man, but did something…happen?”

“Yea. I told her about Riga.”

***

The moment kept playing over and over again in your head. Repeating on a continuous loop for the past week. It had started out like any other night – Bucky was sleeping over. He did that a lot recently. Not that you minded. It just meant you got to spend more time with your wonderful boyfriend. You liked having him there. In your space. His familiar presence was becoming a consistent and habitual aspect of your life. Wake up – Bucky. Go to work – Bucky. Get home – Bucky. Go to sleep – Bucky. Some might consider it excessive, but to you it was wonderful. Never had you felt more at ease with someone else.

“Thanks again for letting me sleep here doll,” said Bucky, pulling back the covers on what you had begun to consider his side of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, pulling your body towards him. You allowed yourself to roll into his side, draping an arm across his bare abdomen.

You hummed in response, burying your face into the crook of his chest. Wrapping his flesh arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in tight. You felt the firm press of his lips to the top of your head as he inhaled your scent. The heat of a contented sigh brushed across your scalp, causing baby hairs to tickle your face.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than my place.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, tracing patterns across the plains of his chest.

“Ehh, upstairs neighbors. I can always hear them walking around,” answered Bucky.

“Too loud?”

Bucky was quiet. His body stiffened under yours and for a moment, you wondered if you had said something wrong. “No. They’re not too loud. I just—”

He stopped, struggling to get the words out.

“Hey—” you laid your palm flat against his chest and rubbed the warm skin firmly “—you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to—”

“But?”

“It’s not like how you’d think. The memories.” Oh. You held your breath, listening patiently as the conversation turned to a subject you didn’t expect. “Most assume that I remember the things I’ve done the way you’d remember any other moment. But, for so many years I was just a prisoner in my own body. Watching as someone else pulled the trigger, over and over again. When I remember things – it’s like I’m someone else. Like I’m watching myself from the outside.”

You continued to stay silent, rubbing your hand back and forth across his chest soothingly as you took in his words. Seventy years. Seventy years a prisoner in his own body. So much so that his subconscious had a hard time connecting the things he did with the person he was. “It was my first missions. A journalist in Riga was getting a little too nosy for Hydra’s liking. I was sent in to take care of him. Then cover it up – make it look like an accident. It was simple. Quick. Something to test if I was ready to be sent into the field. I shot him and his wife in their dining room. I remember watching as I walked around their bodies. Just stepping over them like they were nothing. The house was small and old, and the floorboards creaked. My mission was to burn the house and the bodies. I grabbed a can of gas from the shed in the backyard. A box of matches from the kitchen.”

His voice remained steady, but you could feel the strain and guilt he carried emanate from his body.

“I never noticed the cracks in the floorboards. Turns out they had two children hiding in the crawl space below the floor.”

“Oh Bucky…did they?” You couldn’t say it. Your hand stilled.

“No. They managed to get out, after I left. But Hydra found them a few days later and finished the job,” said Bucky bitterly.

“Bucky – that’s not your fault. You know that, right?” Looking up at him from where you laid, you were met with the turn of his head. Unwilling to look you in the eye.

“No, I didn’t kill them, but only because I didn’t know they were there. If I did…I honestly don’t know. And they—they watched me kill their parents. They sat under those floorboards and listened to me walk over their dead parents with no remorse. No regret. Scared out of their minds that they’d be next. Every time I hear those footsteps above me, I can’t help but think about them. It’s like I’m in that crawlspace with them, waiting for the monster come and get me. But I’m—I’m the monster (Y/N).”

You felt a wetness pool on the top of your head, a small warm trickle you quickly recognized as tears. Bucky’s tears. Sitting up, you pulled his body into your lap. He followed without argument, clinging to you desperately, as the tears continued to flow. Rocking him back and forth you did your best to soothe him. Whispering sweet promises and assurances that you were there. That he wasn’t a monster. That that person wasn’t him then and it wasn’t him now. You knew that self-loathing lived within his soul, but never did you realize the depths to which it burrowed and festered until that moment. So disgusted and ashamed of the things his body had been forced to do, his mind had constructed a world in which he was both the victim and the perpetrator. What it must be like – to be afraid of yourself, to be your own nightmare, to be the thing that kept you up at night – you could never imagine. Never could you truly know the extent to which he suffered, but you did know one thing.

You couldn’t let Bucky continue to stay in a place that caused him so much pain.

After that night, you’d began your preparations. You honestly had no idea why it had taken you this long to consider it. You already enjoyed having Bucky constantly in your space. You loved him. Neither of you had said the words yet, but you know you did. To a certain extent you believed that he loved you back as well. He would have never borne himself to you like that if he didn’t. The two of you had been together for a while now anyways. Your apartment was on the top floor. No upstairs neighbors. Asking him to move in with you was the logical next step. The only issue was that Bucky was a proud man. If you asked him to move in with you the morning after his confession, he would expect that it was done out of pity and most likely refuse. That was far from what you wanted. You wanted him to know that you were serious. That you genuinely wanted him there with you.

So began your purge of all unnecessary items – making room for Bucky and anything he might want to make the space feel more like his own. Steve had left some things behind – relics of their past lives that you knew were important to Bucky. Such as an old record player, a desk and chair, a radio. They were things that made him feel a little less out of his element. Unfortunately, you had accumulated a lot of, well for lack of a better word – crap—over the years and the job had turned out to be a lot tougher than you originally expected. Hauling boxes of dusty knick-knacks, bags of clothes, and even a few items of furniture down from your 4th story walk up was no easy job. Wanting to ask him the big question as soon as possible – you spent what little time you had after work clearing and organizing your apartment to a neurotic level. You were exhausted. Exhausted and honestly a little crazy.

Every day harbored a new anxiety that he would say no. That you had done all this work for him to say that he wasn’t ready for this step. However, the rational part of your brain pushed the nagging thought away. If he didn’t like you or your apartment, he wouldn’t spend so much time there. Plus, the more perfect you made the space for him, the less likely he was to say no.

The worst part of it all though, was the lying to him. You were an awful liar. So bad, in fact, that you were known to ruin presents, surprise parties, and on occasion your friends’ ability to tell you secrets. The bigger a secret was, the harder it was for you to keep it. Therefore, you’d been keeping your interactions with Bucky to a minimum. The whole thing had almost toppled over onto you when you forgot he was supposed to come over for dinner and movies that Wednesday night. When he’d left a message telling you he was leaving work in five, you panic called him and told him you had to cancel, leaving him with a vague and certainly awful excuse. Seeing your apartment in shambles would certainly give away your surprise.

But it was only a week, you told yourself. You only needed to hold out for a week. You were meeting him for dinner that night and then you’d ask him. If he said no, you’d take him over to your apartment and prove to him you were serious. If he said yes, then you’d still take him over to your apartment and surprise him with all the hard work you’d done.

Preparing to meet Bucky for dinner, you checked your makeup one last time in the mirror before turning back to your apartment. Taking a second to look around the space, you were pleased with your work. The place looked fantastic. It was clean top to bottom. Empty spaces sat throughout for Bucky to move his things into. A blank spot on the far wall of the apartment was left for his record player. The spare bedroom had a wall free for his desk next to yours. The bookshelf had two whole rows for him to fill with books of his own. You’d cleared out half of your closet and dresser for him to put his clothes. The top of the fridge sat empty for him to place his radio. You could almost image him sitting at the little kitchen table, listening to it on Saturday mornings.

Checking your purse, you smiled at the small box where a spare key sat, a single piece of ribbon tied around it in a bow. Maybe it was a bit much, but Bucky meant enough to you, for you to make the effort. You were meeting Bucky at his favorite pizza place in Brooklyn. You had it all planned out. You’d order his favorite pizza, a few beers, and then you’d take out the box once you finished your food. Wiping your hands on the skirt of your dress, you took a deep breath. You could do this. Nervous energy coursed through your body as you walked down the flights of stairs and onto the city streets. You were only a block away from your apartment when your phone buzzed. Pulling it out, the sight of Sam’s name took you by surprise.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” you asked, answering on the second ring.

“Hey! (Y/N)! Not much, just checking in on you. Haven’t heard from you in a while. Just wanted to see how you were doing,” said Sam casually.

“Oh, that’s so sweet Sam. Sorry I’ve been so radio silent lately, but I’m doing good! I’m actually on my way to meet Bucky for pizza,” you told him as you briefly looked both ways before crossing the street.

“Yea, about that. You know, if you ever wanted to talk about anything, I’m here. You can talk to me. I’m not just Bucky’s friend. I’m yours too.”

“Wow, well that’s really sweet Sam.” The sentiment was really sweet, albeit a tad weird and out of place, but sweet, nonetheless. Maybe he was feeling sentimental? Perhaps he was a bit hurt that you’d been MIA for the last week not just from Bucky, but from him as well. Should you tell him what you had planned? It might make him happy to know the secret before you told Bucky. Plus, there was no way he could spoil the surprise. You were telling Bucky in the next hour or so anyways.

“Actually – Sam. There is something I wanted to tell you.”

“Really?” he asked in surprise.

“Yea, I’ve been trying to keep a low profile this past week because it’s a surprise and I’m such a bad liar, but I trust you not to spill the beans,” you joked as you neared the pizza place.

“Okay…” Sam said slowly.

“I’m asking Bucky to move in with me tonight!” you practically yelled it, the excitement bubbling over.

“What?!”

“Yea! I know, it’s exciting! I’m just worried about whether he’ll say yes or not, ya know? It’s a big step, but I just feel so secure in this relationship and I care for him so much.”

“(Y/N)—”

Spotting Bucky standing outside of the restaurant, you spoke quickly into the phone, “Oh! I see Bucky now. I have to go! I’ll text you later.”

You could hear Sam’s voice from the other end but didn’t quite catch what he said as you hung up and skipped over to Bucky. Flinging yourself into his arms, you hugged him tightly, leaning back to place a quick peck to his lips, “Hey babe!”

He seemed confused when he looked at you, carefully placing his hands on your waist, “Hey.”

“Let’s go inside, I’m starving!”

The dinner was more tense than the meals you usually shared. You found yourself at a loss for words continuously throughout the night. Everything he said, everything you said, heck everything you thought led your brain to the subject of him moving in. Five times, you’d almost slipped up and called it ‘our’ apartment. You were pathetic! Bucky also seemed to be battling something, but you assumed it was mostly likely a response to the weird vibes you were giving off. When the waitress had cleared the tables, you were struck by a wave of nerves. This was it. This was the moment. Reaching into your purse beside you, your fingers closed around the small box and pulled it out, keeping it hidden beneath the table.

Opening your mouth to begin the small speech you had practiced in the mirror that morning, you were stopped by Bucky.

“Listen, (Y/N). There’s something I wanted to talk to you about actually.”

Looking up at him, you found him staring intently down at his hands. You pivoted your body back towards him, “What’s up?”

Bucky sighed, heavily, “I…this isn’t working anymore, (Y/N).”

“What’s not working?” you asked dumbly, unable to comprehend the words he was saying.

“This—” he motioned between the two of you “You and me.”

“I don’t—I don’t understand. Why—”

“Let’s not pretend, (Y/N). I think it’s pretty clear that we’re not happy here.” You weren’t? Searching through your memories, you tried to understand how you had missed when he became unhappy. Was it when you bored him with your lame reality TV? Was it when you fell asleep too early on Friday nights? Or was it when he noticed your propensity to talk too loudly at parties? Or the way you left coffee stains on his copy of the Sunday Times every week? Perhaps it was simply in the moments when you weren’t looking – too engrossed in your own happiness to notice when his own had faded.

Swallowing thickly, you chose your words carefully, trying to keep your composure in the highly public place, “Well, if that’s how you feel, then maybe we should end this.”

You wouldn’t beg him. You wouldn’t beg and plead with him the way you truly wanted to. The last thing you wanted was to guilt him into staying in a relationship where he wasn’t happy. A short and bitter laugh escaped Bucky, the sound like sharp and jagged glass digging into every inch of your body.

“Yea, I think that’s for the best,” said Bucky coldly.

***

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. It was almost comical how quickly you had agreed with him. It only proved his theory. Things were over between the two of you and you didn’t have the guts to end it. Probably due to pity. Nobody wanted to dump the sad, damaged guy. He watched as you stood suddenly, the movement catching him off guard. At the very least, he expected some kind of pity goodbye – an empty promise to remain friends, a stiff hug with a pat on the back. But the desperate confusion on your face as your eyes darted around the restaurant were not what he expected.

“I um, I have to—I’m just gonna—I’m just gonna go, I guess,” you rambled, voice thick and wavering at the end.

“(Y/N)?” he asked in confusion, standing himself.

“I’m sorry, I just have to—” you ended your sentence, turning from him and darting through the restaurant and out the doors. Bucky stood there, staring at where your figure had disappeared around the corner. He had thought for sure that this was what you wanted. But if that was true, then why did you seem so upset? Why had he seen tears in your eyes as you ran from him? Did you not want to break up? You must have – you agreed to it so easily. So quickly. Throwing cash down on the table, he was halfway to the door when a server stopped him.

“Excuse me, sir – I think your friend dropped this.”

A small red box was placed in his hand, no bigger than a coin envelope and feather light. Thin white ribbon wrapped around the center tightly, forming a lopsided bow. He stared at the strange object in his hand. What could this possibly be? And why did (Y/N) have it? Exiting the restaurant, he leaned against the side of the building and pulled on the ribbon.

At the sight of the contents of the box, his stomach dropped. A small white card sat at the top:

No more nightmares. Live with me instead?

Picking up the card, adorned with your messy, looping script he spotted the silver key that sat below.

Fuck.

Racing down the streets, he’d never been more grateful for his super-soldier stamina and speed. He reached you just as you were getting out of a cab outside your building. Tears streaked down your face, makeup running and eyes red.

“(Y/N)!”

You turned, nearly tripping over your own feet as you did, “Bucky, what are you doing here?”

“I’m an idiot.”

“What?” you asked, bringing a hand up to hurriedly wipe at your face.

“I’m an idiot,” he said again, pulling the box from his pocket and holding it out to you.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, opening your purse frantically to see that the box was in fact not there but in his hand. “This is so embarrassing. You can—I can take that, and we can just forget—”

“Why did you agree?”

“Why did I agree to what?” you asked in confusion.

“Why did you agree to break up when you were going to ask me to move in?” he asked, stepping towards you.

“You said you weren’t happy. I’m not going to beg you to stay with me if you’re unhappy. I love you way too much to do that.”

You continued to talk, but the words drowned out as his brain processed what you’d just said. You loved him. You loved him and you wanted him to move in with you, and he had just broken up with him. He was a fucking idiot.

Your voice came back into the foreground of his mind, swelling to full volume, “And I really don’t understand why you raced all the way here to—”

He cut you off, leaning down and capturing your lips with his. You were soft, sweet, and completely all-encompassing–just like always. His heart convulsed in his chest when you leaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you harder, putting everything he had into that one kiss. The one kiss he could give to say ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. Please forgive me’. Pulling away, he rested his forehead to yours, breathing raggedly as he held you tight. Arms wrapped impossibly tight around your middle, fingers digging into your clothes, not an inch of space between the two of you. Hell would freeze over before he let you go.

“I’m not unhappy (Y/N). The only time I am happy is when I’m with you. I love you so much. I don’t wanna’ lose you,” he confessed, feeling the back of his throat constrict and the tears in his eyes begin to form.

“Then why?”

“I thought you wanted to break up with me. I was trying to make things easier for you.”

Pulling away from him, you thwacked him across the chest, “Why in the world would you think I wanted to break up with you James Buchanan Barnes?”

He felt dumb, but he also felt slightly justified when he answered, “I told you about Riga, and then you pretty much disappeared on me for a week (Y/N). What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to believe what I told you, you big dummy! That I didn’t think it was your fault. That you’re not a monster. That I’m here for you!” you said, pacing in front of him. You looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world, and he felt like it too. But he couldn’t help but smile. You loved him. You didn’t think he was a monster. Hell, you still cared enough about him to yell at him and tell him when he was being an idiot.

“Can I still move in?” he asked lamely, unsure of what else to say. He waited on edge as you sighed and tilted your head back. Sniffing away the tears and emotions, you shook your head in exasperation.

“I mean, if I say no, then the sheer amount of work I put in this week to get this apartment ready for you, would be for nothing,” you sighed, smiling at him wryly.

“You’ve been getting it ready?”

“Of course!” you exclaimed. “What do you think I’ve been doing this whole week I’ve been MIA? I had to practically force myself to avoid you so I wouldn’t accidentally tell you what I’ve been up to.”

You began to walk towards the front entrance of your building, leaving him to stare at your retreating figure in a dumbfounded stupor. Man, he really felt like an idiot.

“Well?” you asked, turning back to him, “Are you coming or what?”

The whirling sound of wind halted his answer. A roar swept through the air as a gust picked up around them. Looking up in confusion, Bucky was greeted by the sight of Sam in full falcon gear flying towards them before landing on the sidewalk in front of him.

“Wait! Stop! I need—I have to tell—don’t—” he panted “Hold on. I need a minute.” Bracing his hands on his knees, he breathed heavily, catching his breath.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” Bucky asked Sam, “And why are you out of breath? You were using the suit. That takes absolutely no cardio.”

“I couldn’t use the suit to fly to every pizza joint in Brooklyn. It only has so much juice Terminator. I had to run a couple hundred blocks with the suit on.”

You had made your way to his side again by now, intertwining your fingers with his as you both looked at Sam.

“Why were you running between every pizza joint in Brooklyn?” Bucky asked, still unsure why his partner and friend was standing before them in a manic state.

“Because! You’re about to make a stupid mistake, you asshat and I’m trying to stop you before—” he stopped. Looking between the two of you and then at your intertwined fingers. “Wait. You didn’t?” he asked Bucky, trying to communicate with his eyes without alerting you.

“I did,” Bucky sighed, looking down at you apologetically.

“But you’re?” Sam motioned between the two of you with a finger, trying to piece it all together.

“I may have told him over the phone that I was asking you to move in, right before I met you for dinner,” you told him, a guilty expression on your face. Ahhh, that made sense.

“Unfortunately, you’re a bit late to the big, unfortunate scene. We hashed it out. I’m moving in,” Bucky laughed.

“But it was very sweet of you to come all the way out here to try and stop it from happening Sam!” you called to him, giving him an apologetic smile.

“Are you kidding me?! I came all the way out—I tried—You know what—” Sam held up his hands in good-natured defeat “—I’m happy for the two of you. But from now on COMMUNICATION. Falcon out.”

With that, he extended his wings, taking off and disappearing beyond the city scape within a matter of moments.

“I thought he was Captain America now?” you asked, light heartedly.

“Only when he has the shield. When he wears the wings, he insists on calling himself Falcon still,” he informed you, turning with you as you both began to walk back towards the front entrance of your building.

“Interesting…well, ready to go home?” The words from your lips, made him lift – lighter than air as he pulled the key from the box in his pocket and placed it into the lock.

“Yea, let’s go home.”

Marvel Taglist:

@caffiend-queen

@hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#request #request fill #fan fic #fan fiction #bucky #angst #bucky barnes #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #fluff #sam being a really good friend

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underthewingsofthblackeagle · 4 years

Photo

“Berliner Fernsehturm” * Foto: BernardoUPloud

After her marriage with Frank Randall has failed and Claire Beauchamp flees from her violent husband, she finds refuge in the house of the Fraser/Murray family in Berlin-Wilhelmshorst. But then tensions arise between Britain (which has since left the EU) and some EU member states. All holders of an English passport are required to leave EU territory within six weeks … and suddenly Claire’s fate looks more uncertain than ever.

This story was written for the #14DaysofOutlander event, hosted by @scotsmanandsassenach

Chapter 9: 14 Men (5)

After she sat down and Jamie poured everyone a glass of water, Ferdinand Groide began:

"Mrs. Beauchamp, Jamie, Mr. Fraser, told me that your husband is Dr. Frank Randall. Is that correct?"

(...)

"As you may also know, I have left my husband. Our marriage had been on paper only for several years. I intend to ask for a divorce, if that's possible from here. But I still have to care about this man's life. I'm a doctor, I took an oath. If I reveal the secrets I have learned... what will you do to him?"

"What do you mean? What are we going to do with him?"

"Will you hurt him? I mean, will you let someone hurt him?"

Ferdinand Groide and Jamie looked at each other in amazement.

"Mrs. Beauchamp, we're not the Mafia. We don't hire hit men."

"But you're in Intelligence, Mr. Groide."

Claire said that sentence with the same calm and objectivity as if she was saying to Jenny:

"If you put one more egg in the batter, it gets better."

"And intelligence agencies do these things," she added to her statement with the same objectivity.

"Well, maybe the CIA or the KGB. Let me answer you this way: In my opinion, a living Frank Randall is far more interesting and valuable to a secret service than a dead Frank Randall."

"In other words, you guarantee me that the information I give you will not endanger his life."

Groide and Jamie looked at each other again.

"Promise me."

It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, it was a demand, and the words Claire used to make that demand left none of the men unaware that there was no alternative to this bargain for them.

Groide struck the hand Claire held out to him.

"You have my word, Mrs. Beauchamp. You don't know me yet and you probably mistrust me. That's only natural. But Jamie, Mr. Fraser, can assure you that I'm a man of my word."

Claire looked over at Jamie. He nodded.

"Done."

She reached for the glass of water that Jamie had put in her hand and emptied it in one gulp.

Then she began to talk.

"Microphone" by Florian-Media

"It was in the year 2015, in late November 2015 to be exact."

"Excuse me, Mrs. Beauchamp," Groide objected, "but we ought to do this properly."

He removed from his briefcase a device whose rectangular clunkness was reminiscent of an early mobile phone. After placing it in the center of the table, he inserted two small, round microphones attached to longer cables, one pointing at Claire and one pointing at himself. Groide pressed the record button, then he gave the date, time, place, names of those present and, as the reason for the recording, ‘Statement by Dr. Claire Elisabeth Beauchamp’.

Jamie had to smile. Ferdinand was a friendly person, but he was also a German bureaucrat. Everything had to follow the specific order and everything had to be done 'by the book'. Those Germans. They had rules for everything. They couldn't just have a conversation like that, it had to be a 'statement' and of course it had to be 'recorded'. In this country everything was recorded, either on paper or on tape. And then everything was filed, paginated, numbered and archived. Nothing was lost. They were so damn meticulous, these Germans, but also so damn effective.

"Please begin with your personal life, Mrs. Beauchamp. Name, birthday, place of birth, family, etc."

"My name is Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I was born in London on October 20, 1993, the only child of Julia, née Moriston, and Henry Montmorency Beauchamp. My mother was a primary school teacher, my father worked as a statistician for an insurance company. In the winter of 1998 my parents were killed in a car accident. My uncle, Lambert Quentin Beauchamp, was appointed by the authorities as my foster father and guardian. He was my only living relative, my father's only brother. Due to the activities of my uncle, who was an egyptologist and archaeologist, I grew up in England for only a short time, the rest of the time we spend abroad. When I was 16 years old, my uncle returned to England permanently and accepted a professorship at Oxford University. Shortly afterwards I began training as a nurse. Also in Oxford. At the age of 19, I had just completed my education, I met my future husband Franklin Wolverton Randall through my uncle. He also worked in the history department and specialised in Scottish history. At times he worked as an assistant to a professor. We married the following year. My uncle died only a few months later. His health had unfortunately not been the best at the end of his life. When my husband was called to Harvard University's history department, we moved to Boston.

"Oxford" by MarlonRondal

Groide nodded. Jamie was sure that nothing Claire had told him so far was new to his friend. Guaranteed, they had checked Claire from the day he requested the visa for her passport. And they had certainly not been idle since then. At "In Vino Veritas" there was a small but very effective group of staff who had certainly dug up everything they could find about the young woman in the past few days.

"When and how did you learn of your husband's secret activities?"

"It was in the year 2015, in late November of that year to be exact. Does the name Jonathan Pollard mean anything to you?"

Jamie listened with new interest. Groide just nodded.

"Then you know that this man has served thirty years in the United States for espionage. In 2015 he was released on parole and in the American media there was a lot of coverage and discussion for days. I had never heard this man's name before and, to be honest, I didn't care about the whole thing. However, I listened up when my husband spoke about it. It was a Sunday, two days after Pollard was released. I remember the whole thing so well because that day was the day of the terrible accident in that jademine in Myanmar, where 90 people were killed and over 100 people were missing. We had had dinner and then Frank turned on the TV. There was a talk show where the case was discussed. My husband had already started drinking in the afternoon. While Frank was watching the talk show, I thought, ‘My goodness, they're talking about an age-old espionage case and people are dying elsewhere without the media even paying attention.’"

Claire reached for her glass, which Jamie had refilled in the meantime, and took a big sip.

"I didn't pay much attention to the discussion on TV. But then suddenly Frank started mumbling loudly:

'Spy! Spy! Spy! Nonsense! The man was an amateur! What real spy leaves secret documents openly on his desk in the office and his wife was stupid enough to leave a suitcase with secret documents with a neighbour who was in the military himself!’”

Claire reached for her glass again and drank.

"What he said made me furious, so I said to him: 'Oh yes, but you know how a real spy behaves!’ I thought his reaction was terribly arrogant. To my surprise, he then turned down the TV. He came over and sat down with me on the sofa. He looked me in the eyes and grinned. Then he said, ‘Yes, my darling, I know that. The MI5 recruited and trained me while I was still studying at Oxford. Right after they heard I was going to specialise in Scottish history. With my family background and the good connections we had in the military and police through my cousin Jonathan, there were no obstacles.’”

"Books" by MichaelGaida

"How did you react to that?"

"Well, at first I was stumped. I thought he was just showing-off again. So I replied, ‘Why would the MI5 need an expert in Scottish history?’ He replied, ‘Well, of course you can't imagine, you little fool. Good God, Claire! The Scots want independence and just because last year's referendum went so well, they will not give up. It's their history they're drawing strength from! What do you think will happen if they really gain their independence? It could set off a chain reaction. You know that Prime Minister Cameron announced two years ago that he would hold a referendum on Britain's withdrawal from the EU if he was re-elected in 2015? So? He has been re-elected! Now there must be a referendum. And what if Britain's withdrawal from the EU is carried out but Scotland becomes independent and is then admitted to the EU as a member? Did you ever think about that? This is going to get us in big trouble! Then the EU will continue to stand with two legs on our island! We can't let that happen.’”

Claire paused for a moment, then she went on: "I must have looked at him in wonder and disbelief, because suddenly he stormed out of the living room. I heard him looking for something in his study. When he came back he had a newspaper article in his hand which he held in front of my face. ‘Read it,’ he said to me. ‘Our government takes this danger seriously... and so should you!‘ I took the article and read. It was an article in the International Business Times in July 2015. It reported that the Prime Minister had met with the CEOs of a media company. The purpose of the meeting was allegedly to prevent the broadcast of a TV series about the Scottish Rebellion of 1746 before the referendum on Scottish independence. It seems that a request has been made to postpone the broadcast. I later found on his desk a copy of an article from ‘The Scotsman’, which also covered the subject in detail.” Groide and Jamie looked at each other and smiled. Both men nodded, but said nothing.

"Frankly," Claire continued, "I hadn't given the matter any thought at all. In the five years before, I had been mainly busy finishing my medical studies and gaining experience as a doctor. You don't have much time to worry about other things. Besides, due to my, well, somewhat non-conformist upbringing, I was never so much confined to one country alone ..."

"How is it that despite medical school, your husband still refers to you as..." Groide is looking for words, "intellectually... weaker...?” "Frank believes that medical school would consist largely of memorizing the contents of textbooks. He thought that people's bodies were somehow all the same and that if you had learned the appropriate forms of treatment, then you could treat them. He never understood the diversity and complexity of the human body and how medical science reacts to it." "Did your husband explain his duties for the MI5 to you?" "When I told him that Scotland's history, and Scotland's ambitions for independence, were well known, he told me not to think so superficially. He said that historians are not only concerned with the past. They can also make predictions about the future to a certain extent, based on their knowledge. I should think about what the clan system had meant and still means to the Scots. Why did the English central government everything to destroy it after the Jacobite uprising of 1746? England should not allow a united counter-power to be formed again in the north of the country. He was probably particularly concerned about this lobby group, One Banner for all Scots, which had formed the year before."

"Scottish Independence" by Emphyrio Claire was focused on Ferdinand Groide and the recording equipment in front of her. She didn't see Jamie's face become more and more thoughtful.

"Mrs. Beauchamp, all this is interesting, but... not very specific." "At first, I too got to know only general things. It only became more specific later when I did... well, my own... research. "You did your own research?" Groide suddenly seemed interested again. Jamie tried not to smile. What seemed like a minor revelation to his friend only confirmed what he had been thinking all along. Claire was an intelligent, strong woman. Her strength might have been broken for a time by what her husband had done to her. But Jamie was sure that she would find her way back to that strength. And he vowed to himself that he would do everything he could to help her. "I thought Frank was a braggart for a long time, but... I can't describe it exactly. Something had caught my interest. Then a colleague asked me if I would trade a weekly shift with her. She would have had a night shift, but her babysitter was unavailable. I agreed and that same afternoon I went to the university library and borrowed books on Scottish history and the independence movement. The department where I was on night duty was not very labour-intensive. I had a lot of time to read and think during the nights of that week." She paused for a moment. "After that week, I became aware of the urgency of the issue." Groide didn't say anything, but his gaze urged her to continue. "National self-determination. Well, there's no need to explain that further. Scotland's oil. 64% of Europe's oil reserves are on Scottish territory. They're said to be worth 4 trillion pounds. Then there is the issue of renewable energy. I mean Scotland has 25 % of Europe's wind energy potential, 25 % of Europe's tidal energy potential and 10 % of Europe's wave energy potential. I do not have to tell you that these are also enormous financial potentials." A fine smile appeared on Groide's face. "And then, of course, there is the question of nuclear disarmament: with control of defence and foreign policy, an independent Scotland could tackle the elimination of Trident nuclear weapons, an issue long associated with the campaign for an independent Scotland. Trident class submarines carrying missiles with 120 nuclear warheads are based at the Clyde naval base near Glasgow. In the event of Scottish independence, England would have to withdraw these weapons and revise its defence strategy. I imagine that would be a thorn in the side of the American allies as well. There will certainly be a lot of diplomatic pressure behind the scenes." Claire took a deep breath. "Now you're going to tell me that this is all public information and I would agree with you. But I wasn't aware of it before. These informations woke me up. It took a while but when I had the opportunity to take on another week of night shifts I immediately agreed. In this time I developed a kind of plan. I was eager to find out if Frank's statement was true. At first I tried to track when he was going to conferences or work meetings. Not all of them, but several of them took him to England and Scotland. I can't prove it, but I had the impression that his travels became more frequent at times when 'the Scottish theme' was boiling up. Later, after 2015, and particularly after the brexite, his travels intensified.” To Jamie's surprise, Claire reached into her handbag, which she had hung on the back of her chair, and pulled out a piece of paper she handed over to Ferdinand Groide.

"Tea" by Pexels "This is a list of all the trips my husband has taken since 2013. supposedly for reasons of his work as a historian." Groide skimmed the list, then put it aside. "Thank you very much. We will try to verify the data." "In the weeks that followed, I voluntarily took several weeks of night duty. Because there was another advantage to this. I was at home while my husband was at university and could look through his records almost undisturbed."

"Will you share the knowledge you have gained from this?" "Yes. But perhaps we could have some tea?" Claire replied as she looked at Jamie. "Certainly." He got up and left the room. Ferdinand Groide pressed the 'stop' button on the recorder. Then he got up and stretched a bit. Claire did the same.

#14DaysofOutlander #From Boston to Berlin in 14 Hours #Outlander #Outlander fan Fiction #Boston #Berlin #Claire Beauchamp #Jamie Fraser #Frank Randall #Jonathan Randall #Ian Murray #Jenny Murray

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kchuarts · 4 years

Text

Instinct

A/N: *rubs my filthy hands together* This is a VERY self indulgent fic of mine with one of my various kinks... Also takes place during a weird timeline in IW and Loki has been informally accepted as an Avenger.

Summary: Astrid KNOWS that now is not the time to bring up the idea of having a child. She also knows how Loki feels about it; he does not want children. With everything going on in the world, why was she even thinking about this?

Thanos is still looming over the Avengers at an uncomfortably close distance, and strange creatures have began to invade earth. Unfortunately, these creatures happen to be from Jotunheim...

Warnings: 🔞🔞🔞 VERY SPICY SMUT, breeding, dubious consent, impregnation, etc...🔞🔞🔞 DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18!!!🔞🔞🔞

The very first time Astrid had ever brought up the idea of having children in the future with Loki, was also the last time. In fact, the prince seemed rather upset that she would even bring up such a topic. He had given her a very firm “No.” but never gave any clear validation why he was so against the suggestion. Astrid decided it would be wise not to bring it up again despite her desire to give him a family. His cool opinion of her devotion made her heart ache. She thought that maybe he would be at least open to the idea, but his habit of closing off had won that argument.

It wasn’t that Loki did not want children, it was more of his inner turmoil and who he was. After his haunting fall from the Bifrost, the prince never even thought he would be breathing today. Since his brainwashing, he had concluded that fatherhood would never be within his prospect. This final result was all thanks to the lack of fatherly love from Odin, having learned the truth of his origins, having been unwillingly controlled, what he could do, and now? What now? There was no research of a mortal and Jotun ever creating life together and scarce information of an Asgardian and Jotun doing the same. Loki would not risk his wife’s endurance for something that could quite possibly kill her. He finally found something beautiful through his hardships and he was not willing to let her go. As much as it hurt him to see Astrid suffer in silence about it, he would rather be safe than sorry...

“It has come to my attention that a seam has torn through our world by something to let these massive beasts in and destroy everything in sight.” Fury stated, glancing to Thor and Loki who were standing to the left of the round meeting table. “It is also to my understanding that you have dealt with these things before, and that your brother is of their particular home planet.” He waited for a reply from the Gods as everyone else did.

“They are frost beasts and they do indeed come from Jotunheim.” Loki spoke up, nodding toward the holograph of one of these humongous creatures.

Steve walked forth, examining the 3D image and scratching his beard at it. “So what you’re saying, if I am not mistaken, is that we could have another convergence on hand if these things are coming in? I’m no expert so please excuse my misinformation if I am wrong.” His blue eyes flicked to the God of Mischief. To everyone’s slight relief, both Loki and Thor shook their heads no. “We have yet another 5,000 years before the next convergence occurs, so we can consider ourselves lucky in that regard.” Thor tapped the table toward the frost beast, “What we have here is something else entirely and if my intuition is correct, I believe Thanos is behind this.” The God of Thunder pulled his arm back, mirroring the Captains pose and scratching his own beard. Director Fury nodded to Thor, “So it is a distraction of sorts for what he truly has planned? Laufeyson. You should know the answer to this, given you were under his control.”

Loki nodded, “This is one of his tactics. His army is far larger than a few frost beasts, I have seen it first hand. Well, a glimpse of it anyways. I am hypothesizing he has torn the seam to get me alone. He still is after my head and wishes death upon me.” His thumb gently plays with the smooth onyx band around his ring finger as a means to calm himself; to think of going home to his wife. “Understandable. We also wanted you dead for a period of time.” Nick spoke nonchalant, taking no mind in the slight irk in Loki. “Gentlemen, please.” Steve frowned, holding his hands out and waving down before turning to the dark haired prince, “I’ve got an idea but it will be very dangerous. It does involve closing that seam so we can take care of this and get back to taking Thanos down... I’m gonna need you to go home, Loki.”

Scoffing, the Trickster gave an amused smile to the captain “I would not exactly call it ‘home’ as you so plainly put it, but it does appear that I haven’t a choice here.” He sighed and turned on his heel, “Very well, please prepare a ship for me. If you are sending reinforcements along, I suggest you see Stark first for cold resistant armor. I do not require it, but mortals will-” There was a sudden crackling noise as Tony’s voice broke through the communicator on the table. “Sorry to interrupt ladies, but this isn’t the time for an ice cream social. We’ve got frosty the snowman on steroids over here destroying shit left and right!” Fury pressed a button, “Stark. Where is your position and company?”

“Central- Really!? Come on!! Never mind where we are! Just track us down and get help!!” Tony’s voice cut out as his communicator lost connection.

Almost immediately, Thor turned to Loki and grinned widely to which the latter tried to ignore what was just said.

“Let’s do get help.”

“No-”

All four of the men present suddenly grabbed onto anything as the room shook violently. The shaking was followed by a terrifying screech, causing everyone except Loki to cover their ears. “What the hell was that!?” Steve looked up to see the Trickster frozen in place as though he had seen a ghost. “It’s near the medical wing-” Loki choked out, taking off in a sprint as fast as he could.

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

“Everyone form a single file line and do NOT rush out!!” Astrid walked along the line of medical workers and patients, doing her best to escort the frightened people out of danger. It was hard to do so with the violent tremors that continued to rock the building. “Astrid, I’ll take over, go check the Children’s ward and make sure there aren’t any kids left.” Doctor Cho placed a hand on the brunette woman’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze. Astrid nodded, quickly making her way out of room D to the best of her ability through the crashing and now flickering power. Her heart rate picked up as she heard a high pitched, terrified squeal come from her destination. Astrid sprinted down to the ward, eyes scanning over the beds in a panic.

The child shrieked once more as the power blacked out completely this time. “It’s ok!! Stay where you are and I’ll come get you, sweetie!!” Astrid pulled her phone out quickly turning on flashlight and seeing a little girl; who was no older than 5, huddled in the corner and shaking. The head nurse head to the girl with light feet, scooping her up and giving the poor child a tight squeeze. “It’s gonna be ok. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get you out of here.” She cooed to the girl, taking her small hand and holding it as she had reached for it out of comfort. Swiftly, Astrid began to make progress exiting the room with what little light her phone provided her. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” She cautiously stepped over some new rubble that had fallen from the ceiling while she was in the ward. “L-Lorraine.” the girl sniffled, continuing to hold Astrid’s hand and cling tightly to the woman.

Astrid smiled at the child despite being in complete darkness. “What a pretty name you have! I am so glad to have rescued you, Lorraine. My name is Astrid.” She adjusted the girl in her arms, hearing a small noise of happiness come from her; before finally reaching a well lit area and setting Lorraine down. Kneeling to her eye level, Astrid looked over her to see if she had any injuries. “Wh-What’s gonna happen to us, M-Miss Astrid?” The woman’s attention is brought up to big, teary green eyes. Reaching up, Astrid pushes some hair from the girls face and smiles once more in an attempt to ease her fears. “We are gonna get us out of here and find your parents. I see you’ve got a Junior Agent badge on your little uniform. Do your parents work for S.H.I.E.L.D?” She tapped the button on Lorraine’s shirt. “Mhm. Daddy is a person that helps other people. My mommy is here.” Her small finger pointed to her heart, “She went up to heaven last year with nana. Daddy told me not to be sad no more ‘cuz she is not in pain. He misses her too but he takes good help of me.” she gave the nurse a small smile, swaying in place.

“Oh Lorraine, you are such a brave little girl... My mom is here too.” Astrid smiled sadly, pointing to her heart. “What about your daddy?” Lorraine wiped her eyes, sniffling as she was lifted into the woman’s arms again. She paused, hesitant on how to answer that... “My dad...” She started saying as she continued to find an exit. “My dad..” she smiled at the little girl “Is Mr. Stark and he is the coolest dad ever. Sometimes he is kinda mean so maybe your dad is way more cool.” she chuckled softly as Lorraine’s eyes became large with wonder. “Whoooaaa!! That’s awesomeness. Are the Avengers your friends?” her fears soon dissipated from her mind as she became engrossed with Astrid’s words. “Mhm. I am! Captain America is the sweetest, Black Widow is cool, Ironman is a genius, Thor is like a big puppy!! I love them all.... Can you keep a secret for me?” She raised her brows and winked at Lorraine. The girl nodded eagerly and leaned in to hear, “I am married to one of the Avengers.” She laughed softly at Lorraine’s little gasp and blush. “Do you guys have babies?”

Her laugh faltered a little, but she continued to smile despite the inner conflict within. “Nope, not yet. But I’ll let you know as soon as we have one.” She pushed Lorraine’s bangs from her eyes again, heart aching from wanting a child of her own. Before the little girl could say anything else, Astrid dove to the floor while shielding the child with her body. The wall had exploded and a giant claw reached in, one of it’s sharp nails cutting Astrid’s ankle. She hissed in pain, clenching her teeth and keeping Lorraine’s head to her chest to protect her as much as she could. The pain slowly became worse as it felt like her skin was frozen and becoming frostbit. She knew it wasn’t too deep but that searing chill would worry her more. Lorraine screamed as the Frost Beast roared, destroying more of the wall. The beast turned it’s attention to the two and primarily focused on Astrid as it could smell her blood. Its hulking body moved, jaws getting dangerously close to the woman.

Before it could snap Astrid and Lorraine into it’s jaws, the Frost Beast let out a painful screech and backed away as its eyes began to bleed. Loki leapt down from the roof and into the hall where his wife was currently trapped. “Astrid!!” He called out, climbing down the fallen building to get to her. “Norns.” He muttered, seeing the nasty cut on her ankle and the chill encasing it. Holding a large hand over it, he chanted something in his native tongue and healed it completely. “I thought you were at home.” Astrid coughed from the dust, blinking to get it out of her eyes and look at Loki. “You really think I would be at home right now with all of this ruckus going on? Come now, my love. You know me better than that-” His brow scrunched as he saw movement underneath his wife. Lorraine peeked out, spotting Loki and quickly hiding her face into Astrid’s chest again. “It’s alright, honey. That’s my husband, he’s here to help us. He’s the one who defeated that big mean monster.” The brunette woman sat up, checking over the little girl.

Loki watched in awe as Astrid so lovingly and patiently tended to the child; checking to see if she was hurt and that she was ok. He knew it was part of her job to help children, but he never did get to see how she worked with them let alone see the love in her eyes for them. The god bit his cheek, shaking his head at the “what if...?” thoughts and scooped the both of them up. “Let us get to safety before more of its friends decide to show up and give us a bigger problem.”

---------

After reaching the rest of the group, Lorraine was returned to her father who was sobbing with reprieve that his daughter was safe. “Miss Astrid helped me, daddy! She and her husband! “ Lorraine gave the two a toothy grin. “She’s gonna let me know when they have babies.” She giggled as she saw Loki’s cheeks turn pink. His jaw was clenched, “Astrid. My love. May I have a word?” He spoke through his teeth. Astrid’s smile faded as she knew where this was headed, she turned and smiled to the girl; saying her goodbyes and thank yous before facing Loki.

“I-I can explain-” her voice was timid from her husband’s silent irritation.

Loki shook his head, nostrils flaring a bit “You know how I feel about that.” He almost hissed while trying to keep his temper under control. “She is a little girl, Loki.” Astrid’s hands fall to her sides, becoming annoyed herself.

“And?”

“And? And what!? She was frightened! I had to distract her somehow!” The brunette scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. “So that distraction was to tell her every little detail about our personal life? She is a little girl, Astrid.” He mocked her words and tone from before. “What did you want me to do!? Say nothing!? Kids are curious! Also, for your information, I didn’t tell her everything as you so dramatically put it. I doubt that she will remember me in a few days.” She felt a sharp grip on her arm and gasped as Loki shoved her against the wall. He was very irate with her and would not have anymore. “That is exactly the problem, my dear. You work with children and she just so happens to be in the same place you are. I do not recall any other children you have helped affecting you like this. Children are indeed curious and will spread information like wildfire. Have you forgotten that the public still resents me? I do not know what sort of thoughts have overcome you as of late concerning me impregnating you, but they will cease. The next time this gets brought up...” He stopped, looking away from her. What was he going to say? He wasn’t going to leave her, Norns no! There was always adoption... No. His selfish thoughts of being mistreated and fearing he would be the same to an innocent babe turned him away quickly. The thought of getting her sterilized did cross his mind too...

Astrid yanked her arm from his now loosened grip, tears burning her eyes. She knew he had a point and that she would apologize for it later, but just once did she want him to see that these thoughts were not selfish. She was doing this for him out of love and wanting him to be truly happy. “I-I’ll see you at home.” She huffed, walking away and refusing to let Loki see her tears. She would not let him win, not this time...

----------

Dinner was unusually quiet that evening, Astrid still mulling over the events of the day and barely touching her food. Loki was presumably in the same boat and decided he also lost his appetite. “I am to leave for Jotunheim tomorrow.” He broke the silence, pulling a chair out and sitting across from Astrid who glanced up at him. “Okay, be careful.” She shrugged, looking back down at her cold food before getting up and pitching it. The prince clicked his tongue and stood up abruptly, blocking his wife’s way to their bedroom. “Is that all you have to say to me?” hidden displeasure seeped in his words. Astrid sighed deeply, shoulders falling and whined, “Loki I’m tired-” She tried to walk past, just wanting to go to bed. His large hands grasped her arms, not as tightly as earlier but still firm, “Look at me.” His voice softened. The brunette sighed again before looking into the prince’s eyes. A small smile peaked across his handsome features as his hands moved up from her arms to her jaw. “I would wager that our situations have changed given that you always tell me I am the dramatic and whiney one.” He smiled as he got a grin from Astrid who tried to hide it.

“I apologize for earlier, my love...” His thumbs caressed her cheeks as he continued to look at her.

“I’m sorry too. I know it’s not a good subject... But m-maybe... Maybe we could discuss it in the future? Not have anything set in stone, but talk about it?” Astrid raised her brows, a hopeful glint in her large, doe like eyes. Loki leaned forth, placing a kiss on her forehead “Perhaps we will... However, there are more important things to worry about at hand. Such as keeping you safe.” He rest his cheek on top of her head and felt her arms wrap around his lithe torso. Nuzzling her face against his strong chest, Astrid took his scent in and felt any worry she had at the moment drift away. “Well then you probably won’t like my next question then.” She chuckled.

“You want to come to Jotunheim with me, don’t you?” Loki lift his head up to look at his mortal wife again, an unamused expression on his face. Astrid grinned, nodding and giggling at his frown. In her amusement, she reached up and pushed his pouting lip in and squealed when he softly nipped at her finger. “Be careful, I may have picked up a few habits from the mongrel.” He chuckled, hiding his smirk with a kiss to her neck. His laughter rumbled once more as Astrid smacked him playfully at him. “Leave my Kovu out of this.” She scolded, still laughing softly. Loki stood up, taking her small hand in his and leading her to their bedroom. He carefully tossed her onto the large mattress before crawling up and placing his head on her chest. Astrid rolled her eyes as she knew what he was asking for and began to play with his hair. “You know, you will need a medic to come along with you. One that sorta kinda knows your biology-” She blushed at what Loki cut her off with.

“By that you mean my cock? Oh darling, I am most certainly aware that you are an expert in that field.” He laughed as he felt yet another smack, nuzzling his head on her chest. “You know what I mean, dumb ass.” Astrid continued to play with his hair, shaking her head and smiling. “You are right though. I do take care of children... But there’s one big kid that I really need to keep watch on. Such a little trouble maker he is and not to mention he is very amorous...” She felt him shift a little to press his lower half on her leg to emphasize her words. “You would not happen to be talking about a very tall, handsome, charming, prince with a large-” He felt her stop playing with his hair and actually whined. The brunette laughed at the noise he made and his hand grabbing hers to put it back on his head. “Your chances of me saying yes to your joining decrease when you stop your petting.”

Sighing once more, Astrid resumed her caresses until the prince lulled into a slumber. He did agree to her joining the mission, but what he was not aware of were the circumstances that would happen on the planet of his birth...

So I guess this is gonna be a two or three parter. God damn. Why do I do this to myself?? Anyways, smut will be in the next chapter

Taglist: @lucywrites02

#lokistrid #loki x ofc #loki x oc #tw: breeding #tw: pregnancy #loki fanfic #fanfic #my writing #writing #loki mcu #mcu oc #i cannot wait to write the other paaaart >:3

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pls-let-me-out · 3 years

Text

Pride and Prejudice

PART TWO

Summer came slowly. The days turned longer, the temperature warmer, and one day fruits hang where flowers had been.

Although the family participated to many social events, Piper never seemed to enjoy the dances quite as much as she the ones shared with Mr. Grace. Mr. Grace, the one whose name was never spoken in the house, more for Mrs. Solace’s destroyed nerves than Piper’s wellbeing. And when someone asked Piper how she was coping, Piper would smile, and say, “It’s becomes easier each day that passes.” Will didn’t believe her.

If there had once been a sense of expectation when they adventured to town, as there was a possibility of meeting Mr. Grace, seeing his and Piper’s story unfolding before their eyes, as Summer came they learnt to leave in boredom again.

And how dared Mr. Grace just walk out of Piper’s life without as much as a goodbye? The more the days passed, the more Will seethed, until bitter disappointment replaced the anger.

But Spring came to an end, and everyone knows that the big things in life always happen during the Summer.

In the first days of June, Mrs. Solace’s cousin invited Piper to London, and she didn’t think too long before accepting.

“After all,” she reasoned with Will, “it can’t hurt, can it? Every day I’m here, I am forced to see his ghost. I wander through the fields, and if someone calls my name, even if it isn’t his voice, I expect to see him when I turn.”

Mr. Caesar sent them a letter, and Mrs. Solace loudly announced that he was asking whether Mr. Solace was dead yet, although no one read it until dinner.

In the letter, Mr. Caesar apologized for felling the need to leave so harshly after Will’s outmost rejection. Despite that, he didn’t have any hard feelings for his cousins, and to show it he invited Will to visit him and his newly married wife, Mrs. Leila Caesar, a Beta.

“She must be very beautiful if he wants to rub her in front of Will,” Mitchell said.

“And she will have our house!” Mrs. Solace exclaimed, throwing her napkin on the table, only to ask Jonathan to give it back to her a second later. “She will throw us on the streets, and now none of us will survive. We will die, all of us!”

Will didn’t mention that Drew had been sneaking off to the fields more lately, to return late and with red cheeks, so at least one would survive. He didn’t say it, but he gave her a pointed look. She glared right back.

“I’ll go with Will,” Mitchell said. “I want to see her, too. She is probably really ugly if she has agreed to marry him.”

“You won’t come with me,” Will said. “I’ll go alone.”

Mr. Solace raised both eyebrows. “You are willingly going to Mr. Caesar’s house?”

“I don’t have much better to do,” Will reasoned. “And he can’t have become worse than he was during his visit.”

Mitchell groaned, slumping in his seat. “You are always so little fun.”

“He expects you to bring one of your siblings, though,” Mr. Solace said.

Three days later another letter came. It was from another long-lost cousin of Mrs. Solace, who invited one of her children to visit her, as she was going south with her husband, and since their children were already married, she would have felt alone. For obvious reasons (he was her favorite child, and Drew had reclined the offer, as she didn’t want her studies to suffer, which was an utter lie) she chose Mitchell.

“She is rubbing it in my face,” Mrs. Solace seethed, ripping a hole in the napkin. “She is rubbing it!”

Mr. Solace patted her back, but didn’t hide the amusement from his face. After all, as he often said, he wouldn’t be around to see his children fall in disgrace.

Mr. Caesar’s house was beautiful, immersed in a green scenery. They certainly paid a lot in gardener, as many different kinds of flowers were on either side of the street. Mr. Caesar was at the door, standing straight beside a beautiful woman. Will blinked several time, but despite Mitchell’s prediction, it didn’t change.

Will was given a tour of the house, before Mr. Caesar had to leave, and Will was left alone with Mrs. Caesar. It would have been his life, if he had been any more afraid of saying no to the Alpha. He couldn’t find it in himself to regret his choice, not even as a they drank tea from shining, expensive cups, in Mrs. Caesar’s private parlor.

Left alone, Will and Mrs. Caesar quickly dropped the formalities. It didn’t take long for them to bond, as Will had the ability of putting people at ease.

“It isn’t easy,” she later admitted. “Being married to him. Being married in general, I think.” She leaned closer, a grimace curling her delicate lips. “And his patron is a nightmare at times.”

“Lady Demeter?” Will asked.

She nodded, widening her eyes. “She wants to know everything we do. We have been married for two weeks, and every time I see her, she asks whether I am pregnant already.”

A matching grimace fell on Will’s face. “Lord. I met her grandson, he was a real nightmare, too.”

“Mr. di Angelo? I only met him once, and he was very closed off. Although I have to say, I have heard many good things about him, especially from the servants.”

Will’s nose scrunched up. “I wouldn’t know, the first time we met, he called me not pretty enough to tempt him into dancing.”

Leila’s jaw went slack. “Oh, Goodness! What did you tell him?”

“Oh, I stumbled upon that conversation for a chance.” Will waved his hand in dismissal, as for him it had quickly become a matter to laugh about. “I was at the right place at the right time. I’m ashamed to admit that I later rubbed it in his face.”

Leila laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand, and Will couldn’t help but join her, despite having a blush on his face.

Luckily, Mr. Caesar wasn’t home the second day of Will’s stay either. Leila brought him to the beautiful fields near the river, and Will enjoyed every second of it. The first day, his hair was slicked back, as Mrs. Solace had forced him in a chair and done it, but after a bath he didn’t bother repeating the process himself.

“Do you come from around here?” Will asked Leila, as they strolled around a path. “I didn’t ask yesterday.”

“Yes, I lived here my whole life,” she said. She looked up at the sky, as though it held the answers to her every question. “I always thought I would travel a bit more before getting married.”

“You can come to Longbourn anytime you want,” Will said. “I must already tell you, my father’s wife will be absolutely insufferable.”

She furrowed her eyebrows. “Your father’s wife?”

“My step-mother,” Will explained. “My mother died when I was thirteen. My father is his current wife’s third husband.”

“She had been married two times and he still married her?”

Will shrugged, turning his eyes up to the sky, too. It was a dark grey, not the best of premonition with which walking, but Leila was sure that it wouldn’t rain. “They had been friends for years, they knew they wouldn’t fall in love. She had four children, my father three, and they had another together. They needed an Alpha – or Beta – heir.”

“It doesn’t sound very romantic.”

“Oh, it isn’t. My father was in love with my mother, and Aphrodite – his wife – was with her previous husbands. Maybe she accepted to marry my father because she was tired of falling in love.”

“It’s terrible to think, isn’t it?”

Will shrugged. A part of him couldn’t help but think whether it wouldn’t be good for her, to find another man to fall in love with for real after having married Mr. Caesar. He couldn’t follow that line of thought for much longer, as a shout of Leila’s name came from afar, and Will’s own decency stopped her.

They both turned – Leila a bit startled – to see a dark-skinned girl walking in a fast pace towards them; long, curly hair bouncing on her back. When she got closer, Will realized that she looked like someone he knew, but he couldn’t get a name. Underneath her sweet scent lingered another, manlier and Alpha-like. It was slight, but it tingled Will’s nose, and even if he didn’t recognize it, it rubbed him the wrong way.

She and Leila greeted one another informally. Hazel, Leila called her.

“This is my husband’s cousin,” Leila said.

Hazel tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as a smile brightened her features even more. “So you are a Solace.”

“I am,” Will said. In front of such a beaming smile, the previous annoyance, caused by the scent, melted as snow under the sun. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss…?”

“Levesque,” Hazel said, bowing her head. “Miss Hazel Levesque, but just Hazel is fine.”

Will repeated her gesture. “William Solace.”

“Hazel is Lady Demeter’s granddaughter,” Leila said.

Will nodded. It took him a moment to connect the dots, thus recognizing the scent. “I think I know your cousin.”

“Brother, actually,” she said. “We have both taken our mothers’ surnames. And believe me, I already knew.”

But before she could give an explanation, the sky broke above them, with such fury one would have thought they had wronged God themselves. They shared one look, and ran for their lives.

When they finally entered the house, they were all shivering. Will pushed his wet hair, sticking to his forehead, away. They were getting too long, Mrs. Solace had threatened to cut them for weeks.

Soon, they were all sitting in front of the fireplace, steaming cups of water in their hands, and blankets on their back. Will even wished he had brought his furs from home.

“So, you know all of my cousins, William?” Hazel asked him.

Will smiled. “I met them, yes.” Was that enough to say, in regards of the time they had spent together? The balls, the times they had run into each other in town. It surely wasn’t half enough to explain Piper’s heartbreak. “Mr. Grace once told me you were supposed to go with them.”

Hazel giggled. She really was a lovely Omega. “Oh, yes. But my brother plotted against me.”

“Plotted?” Will repeated.

Hazel waved a hand in dismissal. “Sometimes he forgets that I am grown, and I don’t need anyone to take decisions for me. Still, I can’t help but understand him, you know?” She stirred her tea, taking a long sip before continuing. “When our father died, I was only sixteen, and I took a couple of wrong decisions, which I often try to forget about. He took care of me. I don’t think he will ever see me as an adult, even when I mate and have children.”

Will nodded, sadness bitter on his tongue. “Oldest brothers are annoying like that.”

“Do you have any?” Leila asked.

“I did,” he said softly. “They were both Alphas.”

Little kids always have a special kind of adoration for their oldest siblings, so pure it really must have been sent by God. Will had always thought so. He saw it anytime he locked eyes with Jonathan. Sometimes, Kayla still looked at Will like he had hung the moon in the sky. Austin did so far less. Lacy sometimes let her guard down, and she was the second to younger among them, her happiness was always refreshing. Mitchell had only ever looked at them as though they were ants, but Will was pretty sure they weren’t completely hated. He, Drew and Piper shared a different kind of bond, more mature than the others’. He surely adored Piper, and Drew did, too, even if she forgot it at times.

Hazel left when the rain finally stopped pouring from the sky, saying her grandmother had to be searching for her. Mr. Caesar returned home from the city not long later, and asked whether they had been home all day. Leila giggled, and told him the whole story (or what she could, as Mr. Caesar wasn’t much interested in stories that didn’t involve him or the Lord).

“We will visit Lady Demeter tomorrow,” Mr. Caesar said. His eyes bore holes in Will’s. “She was kind enough to extend her invitation to you as well.”

“I’m not sure I have clothes beautiful enough to meet her,” Will said.

Mr. Caesar visibly shivered. “It isn��t a problem, Mr. Solace. Lady Demeter prefers humble people.”

Will nodded, but he didn’t need to meet her, to know she wouldn’t be humble at all, more similar to her arrogant grandson than her joyous granddaughter.

Once again, Will was right. Lady Demeter was an aging dark-skinned woman, whose hair had turned white, but she kept her back straight. A lily was placed at the start of her braid, it was the same color as her clothes.

She looked at Will, raising an eyebrow, and he couldn’t see anyone but her grandson in him, even if they didn’t share any physical trait.

“William Solace, is it?” She asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“It is,” Mr. Caesar intervened.

Lady Demeter nodded once, before turning her attention to Leila. As they waited for dinner, they stayed in the parlor, Hazel sitting next to her grandmother, and a woman unknown to Will on the armchair opposite to her. She leaned towards Will when he sat. Her scent was strong, heavy even if feminine. An Alpha.

“Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano,” she presented herself, the name falling easily off her tongue. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Will raised his eyebrows. “From Hazel?”

“Oh, no. I know Mr. di Angelo and Mr. Grace quite personally,” she said, waving her hands. Two rings, one silver and one gold, simple bands on each middle finger, and they caught the light of the candles.

The doors opened, a familiar scent reached Will’s nostrils even before he turned. Even if the previous day Will asked Hazel whether her brother had come with her, and she said he hadn’t. She looked absolutely ecstatic to see him, jumping from her seat to hug him. Mr. di Angelo chuckled in her hair. Will found himself stunned by the sight.

“Please, don’t bother greeting me, Nicolò,” Lady Demeter said, the wrinkles on her forehead deepened.

Mr. di Angelo let go of his sister, and his eyes widened when they landed on Will. Miss Ramírez-Arellano’s gaze never left Mr. di Angelo, and she looked as though she were having lots of fun.

Lady Demeter cleared her throat, and Mr. di Angelo’s attention shifted back to her.

“As you wish, grandmother,” he simply said. He looked back at the door, clasping his hands behind his back, raising an eyebrow. “Is dinner quite ready?”

“Have some manners, boy,” Lady Demeter replied sternly. “Take a seat.”

Mr. di Angelo did as he was told, but not without winking at his sister first. Winking, and she giggled. He told Hazel that he had come to escort her back the next day, so that she wouldn’t be alone during the ride. If possible, her smile widened even more.

“She is always like that,” Miss Ramírez-Arellano told Will quietly, leaning closer to him. “He can do no wrong in her eyes.”

Will turned to her, but he didn’t have time to ask the question on his tongue, as a servant announced that dinner was ready to be served. Lady Demeter demonstrated how much of a humble and kind woman she was, when she threw a fit for the way they were about to sit, asking Mr. Caesar to move in Will’s place so that he would be next to his wife, leaving Will between Mr. di Angelo and Miss Ramírez-Arellano.

“I understand that you have many siblings, Mr. Solace,” Lady Demeter told Will.

“I do,” Will confirmed. “One older than me, and six younger.”

“And they are all in society already?”

“No, the youngest is only seven.”

“So many children in society, yet the first one isn’t even married.” Lady Demeter shook her head. “What a peculiar choice.”

She pronounced the words like they were venom to be spat, and it brought a smile to Will’s lips.

“It would have been cruel to keep the other children home as the oldest went out, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t have encouraged siblinghood, I think.”

“Your mother must be a very strong woman to have birthed so many children,” Lady Demeter continued.

“My mother was particularly frail of health,” Will said. “She never bore any children. We were all adopted.”

“How peculiar,” Lady Demeter repeated. “All of you?”

Will thought of his oldest siblings, Piper’s older sister. He thanked God for having masked his scent, or it would have turned sour, and it was the last thing he wanted to happen in front of such an arrogant woman.

“I thought Lady Persephone would be here,” Mr. di Angelo said.

His way of cutting the conversation short lacked in smoothness, but for once Will was glad of his presence, even if Mr. di Angelo had to already know much of the Solaces, to be completely disinterested in the answer.

Lady Persephone, as Will understood from the following conversation, was Mr. di Angelo’s late father’s third wife. Miss Ramírez-Arellano was a close friend of both siblings, and she spent most of the dinner talking to them. She also knew Mr. Grace.

“He has been in London for the past few weeks,” she said about him. “His sister as well.”

Will only smiled, hoping Mr. Grace wouldn’t run into his sister, giving her the time she needed to grieve and move on.

After dinner, they moved to the parlor. Lady Demeter sat on a high chair, which resembled a throne engraved with flowers. Will sat between Mr. Caesar and Miss Ramírez-Arellano on the soft sofa.

“Plenty of these paints are made by Hazel,” Lady Demeter said, gesturing to the walls. “Do you paint, William?”

Will, ever so cordial, smiled. “Not really, no. Although I can see that Hazel is very good.”

“Strange.” Her eyebrow rose again, and so did Mr. di Angelo’s, as though it had been called. The idea alone so ridiculously funny that Will bit his lip to avoid giggling. “Did you not have a housekeeper to teach you?”

“We did,” Will said.

“And she didn’t?”

“She tried. Unluckily, I was a terrible child, and preferred painting the walls instead of canvas. Eventually, she surrounded.”

Mr. di Angelo coughed, his face as red as Hazel’s. He tried hiding his blossoming grin behind his hand, as Hazel raised her fan.

“Do you have anything to add, Nicolò?” Lady Demeter questioned, her voice stern.

Mr. di Angelo shook his head, without uttering a single word, nor raising his eyes from the floor, as his shoulders trembled.

Lady Demeter’s lips curled. “Can you show some contain, boy?”

However, Mr. di Angelo could not. He almost fell forward, and Hazel grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him up. He turned to red he would have passed for a tomato.

“They are always like this when they are together, Mr. Solace,” Miss Ramírez-Arellano told him quietly. Fondness sparked in her eyes, becoming a fire when Mr. di Angelo loudly guffawed.

Miss Ramírez-Arellano seemed to be a decent Alpha, and once more, Will couldn’t muster how a good person could be friends with Mr. di Angelo. He hadn’t forgotten Mr. Lawrence’s story, yet.

“Do you play the piano, William?” Lady Demeter continued.

“Only a little,” Will replied.

“Play it for us,” she ordered.

From her demanding tone alone, Will knew he wouldn’t. He opened his mouth to protest, sweet smile already in place, but Mr. Caesar accepted for him. Once more, locking eyes with Leila, who seemed unperturbed, he knew he could have never lived that type of life.

So Will sat at the piano, stretching his fingers. When he was only a child trying to keep up with his older Alpha brothers, he had broken the index of his left hand. It had never completely healed, but it felt like a lifetime ago. If it weren’t for the crook in his index, Will would have been sure, it was only a dream.

Concentrating as best as he could on playing, even if he missed a few notes here and there, he tuned out the conversation. At some point, Mr. di Angelo stopped next to him, calix in hand, eyebrow raised.

“Are you trying to intimidate me, Mr. di Angelo?” Will asked, looking up.

Mr. di Angelo swallowed, and Will’s had no choice but to follow the movement of his throat. “I know by now that you are not so easily intimidated, Mr. Solace.”

Will smiled down at his hands. He wanted to find a sense to what Mr. di Angelo had said, but there was a part of him that couldn’t help but be already satisfied. He didn’t understand why.

“Tell us, Mr. Solace,” Miss Ramírez-Arellano said loudly, without standing from her position, but claiming everyone’s attention. “How was our di Angelo in Meryton?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have many niceties to say, Miss Ramírez-Arellano.” Will locked eyes with Mr. di Angelo, who was as stiff as a statue. “The first time we met was at a ball, and he refused to dance, although many people were only waiting for an invite.”

Mr. di Angelo’s eyes remained on Will as he defended himself. “I didn’t know anyone.”

“And as everyone knows, one absolutely can’t introduce himself at balls,” Will said. He raised an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile on his lips. If he had been any pettier, he would have reminded Mr. di Angelo how he’d heard him calling the company ‘not pretty enough’.

“I danced at the next ball,” Mr. di Angelo said. He raised the calix to his lips. There was a ring on his middle finger, a simple black band.

“After telling me that balls and dancing made you miserable,” Will replied.

“Lord, Nico, you are a disaster,” Hazel said, and she sounded absolutely delighted.

Miss Ramírez-Arellano sighed, nodding tiredly. Lady Demeter rubbed her temples, calling a servant to pour her more wine, and Mr. di Angelo grimaced, as though he were swallowing a whole lemon.

Leila and Mr. Caesar had some urgent matter in the village, and Will preferred staying alone in the house.

His thoughts circled around the previous night, how Mr. di Angelo had somehow charmed Miss Ramírez-Arellano, enough for her to even define him a younger brother. He could easily explain Hazel’s adoration for him, as he was her brother. Mr. Grace had demonstrated himself to not be as much of an Alpha as he had seemed, so there was no reason to take him into consideration again. Maybe, if Will waited enough, Miss Ramírez-Arellano would show herself as another Mr. Grace.

He sat by the window in Leila’s private parlor, the only place in the house which wasn’t infested with Mr. Caesar’s scent. He wrote a letter to his sister, which he would send before going back home. However, it wasn’t long before a servant came, announcing Mr. di Angelo’s presence.

Mr. di Angelo, who only bowed his head to Will, let him do the same, and sat in front of him, on the other side of the table.

“Are you here for Mr. and Mrs. Caesar, Mr. di Angelo?” Will asked, when the silence became unbearable. “I’m afraid I’m here alone.”

Mr. di Angelo’s scent spiked, if only for a moment, and Will shivered. “I’m not.”

“Are you here for me, then?” Will’s voice was filled with confusion, but also a hint of surprise.

Mr. di Angelo’s eyebrow arched. He sat stiffly, and once again Will wondered whether he was a statue. “Hazel will stay for one more day. She would like to invite you for dinner again.”

“It would be a pleasure,” Will lied.

Mr. di Angelo seemed to catch onto that lie. “My grandmother won’t be there.”

“Oh,” Will said. A smile slowly spread on his lips. “Accepting your sister’s invitation would be a pleasure, then. I was under the impression that you would have left today.”

Mr. di Angelo cleared his throat. “We should have. Hazel has asked me to stay one more day, although she came to visit our grandmother, and she has already left. We will leave the morning of the day after tomorrow.” There was a moment of silence, then he looked down at the table, his eyes barely grazing over Will’s letter. “Are you writing to your family, Mr. Solace?”

“I am.”

“Are they well?”

Last time they had seen, Piper wasn’t. “They are. I understand that you come from London, maybe you have seen my sister. She is there with a maternal cousin of hers.”

Mr. di Angelo raised the other eyebrow as well. “I haven’t.”

He cleared his throat again, and Will wanted to tell him to have some honey, as it seemed quite sore. But Mr. di Angelo stood, and Will didn’t have time to say it, as Mr. di Angelo bowed his head, and left as though he were running from a fire.

Mr. di Angelo wasn’t there during dinner. Miss Ramírez-Arellano excused him, saying he had had some problems in his father’s proprieties, that needed to be resolved quickly.

“He has asked me to escort his sister back to Pemberley House,” she told Will. “She really doesn’t like traveling alone.”

On the last day of his stay, Will attended the Mass. Mr. di Angelo was in the front row, already there when Will arrived. Miss Ramírez-Arellano took the seat beside Will, tipping her head in greeting. He smiled back, scooting over to let her sit.

“How come you are already back?” Will asked her quietly.

“Hazel has forgotten an unfinished painting, and Nico came back to get it, although she has said many times that it wasn’t an urgency.” She shook her head, a fond look back on her face. “At times, I only follow him to make sure his tongue doesn’t get him into a fight in inns.”

Will didn’t say anything, his doubts about Miss Ramírez-Arellano resurfacing in his mind. He would have fallen asleep during Mr. Caesar’s salmon, if it weren’t for the rain shaking the windows.

“Is it your first time listening to his salmons?” Miss Ramírez-Arellano whispered to him.

“It is. I can’t say I wasn’t given signs. He spent a week or so at my house last Spring.”

“During the time of Nico’s visit to Meryton?”

Will nodded. “They also met. Mr. di Angelo might have erased the memory, he didn’t seem very fond of the place nor the people.”

“He always does, but that is rarely the truth. He doesn’t let many emotions slip on his face, has been thought since he was a child that Alphas shouldn’t let them through.” As she talked, Miss Ramírez-Arellano’s eyes were as hard as steel. She talked of him as one would have of their youngest sibling. “Although you don’t like him much, he is very loyal to his friends, protective of them. I learnt that just last Spring, he saved a friend of ours from a loveless engagement. Apparently, he was completely in love with a girl, and not only was she indifferent to him, she showed particular interest in his money.”

Will’s heart completely stopped. His eyes fell on Mr. di Angelo’s straight back. He didn’t have many expectations on the man, but as his palms turned clammy, he realized he had also been nursing the feeling that, just maybe, he was a terrible man, but not the most terrible of all. How could he have been, when his sister was so lovely?

Somewhere, Will found the strength the continue the conversation, even if his cheeks burnt as though he had been slapped. “He saved his friend?”

“I don’t know the details, none of them talks much about it. Our friends, he is utterly heartbroken. He was really taken with that girl. I can’t help but think that Nico has done taken the right decision. Also, the girl’s family, they were of an inferior social standing, and it appears that the mother was very ambitious.”

“Who says that the girl wasn’t in love as well?” Will asked, his eyes snapping from Mr. di Angelo’s head to Miss Ramírez-Arellano’s eyes. Now that his heart was beating again, the sadness had been replaced by anger.

Miss Ramírez-Arellano’s eyes widened. “Do you know the girl?”

Will was about the say that he knew, and also explain why, but the old woman in front of them turned to shush them. So Will bit his lip, raising his chin. For the rest of the function, Miss Ramírez-Arellano’s gaze was a sunflower, and Will’s face the sun.

Will almost ran out of the Church. He passed through the people, in need of a single breath of fresh air, until he got one, and it wasn’t nearly enough. He ran, and when his legs cried in despair, not able to carry him anymore, he took a moment of rest under the roof of the old town-hall. Drops were running down his face, and he didn’t know whether they were tears or rain.

A thunder shook the sky, covering the sound of steps, but the scent that he hadn’t been able to name filled Will’s nostrils, even over that of the rain.

“Are you completely insane?” Mr. di Angelo asked. “You will catch something, running under the rain like that.”

Will turned to him, biting his lip so hard it should have broken. “I don’t see you arriving with a carriage, Mr. di Angelo.”

Will had spat his name like it was a curse, as if it could be used to slap Mr. di Angelo’s stoic face, and color some emotion that wasn’t disdain, if only for once.

“I have something to confess to,” Mr. di Angelo suddenly said, his face turning into a new type of void boredom. “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. In declaring myself thus I am fully aware that I will be going expressly against the wishes of my family, my friends, and, I hardly need to add, my own better judgment.”

If the ground had opened and swallowed him whole, Will would have been less surprised. There was disgust on Mr. di Angelo’s face, towards himself or maybe even Will. He shook his head. “It makes no sense.”

“What makes no sense?”

“Everything you have just said.”

“I love you, does that make enough sense to you now?” Mr. di Angelo shook his head, pushing the hair from his forehead. The clothes he wore were completely wet, and Will didn’t have to look down at himself to know his weren’t doing much better. “With the inferiority of your family, your rank, it will never make sense.”

“It never will because this isn’t a confession, it is an accusation!” Will exclaimed. “If my standing gives you so much pain, then my rejection should bring you joy alone! After everything you have done to my friend, my family, me, you come and claim yourself a man in love? You must be joking.”

Mr. di Angelo scoffed, crossing his arms on the chest. “Your friend? Would you be so disgusted, had I not been honest in saying I take no joy in your social standing?”

Will’s skin burned, his heart running wildly in his chest. “Mr. Lawrence. Does the name ring any bell?”

Mr. di Angelo closed his jaw so tightly a muscle jumped. He didn’t say a thing, but for less than a second, his eyes flashed red. His scent spiked, and still he didn’t say a word. Will had no doubt that, if he had opened his mouth, he would have growled.

“He told me of what you did to him,” Will continued, venom slipping through the cracks of his voice. “How you ignored your father’s testament for pettiness and jealousy over a dead man’s love. With time, I could have even forgiven you for that if you had made amends to him, but what you did to my sister and Mr. Grace was somehow even worse.”

Mr. di Angelo let his arms fall. He moved closer, leaving wet trails in his wake. “Saving my friend from a loveless marriage?”

“My sister was in love, and still is, with Mr. Grace.” Will snarled the name of the traitorous Alpha who had gone and followed his friend’s advice instead of the seeing the truth. “When your party left, and I now know it was because of you and your ill-advice, she was left completely heartbroken, feeling a derision everywhere she went, as everyone had known she was hoping that Mr. Grace would ask her to marry him.”

“I watched them closely, and thought her indifferent.”

“She is shy!” Will said, and only realized he was yelling when his throat hurt. “She barely shows her affection to me, and I’m her brother!”

Mr. di Angelo took a step back, as if those very words had slapped him, more than anything else Will had said. Another thunder flashed in the sky, followed by a loud echo.

“And talking of others not showing their feelings when you have never shown anything but disgust to me, makes you both a liar and a hypocrite,” Will finished, heavily panting. With every breath, he caught more of Mr. di Angelo’s scent. There was a chant in his blood, asking for more.

“If this is all,” Mr. di Angelo said, his lips curled downwards, not in a show of disgust, but something Will hadn’t seen on him before. “Then I won’t steal any more of your precious time.”

He turned, and disappeared so quickly Will could have convinced himself to having dreamed every word and every anger, if it weren’t for the scent lingering in the air, and the buzzing underneath his skin.

It was late mid-summer, the day Will arrived home, and Piper’s scent of lavender hung in every corner, and her luggage still near the front-door. Jonathan’s laughter came from the parlor, and Will followed it, as if enchanted.

Will added himself to cuddling pair on the sofa, causing Jonathan to giggle and say that he wasn’t breathing. As quickly as they let him go, Jonathan ran out of the door, probably to chase the ducks in the courtyard.

Will told her of his time at Mr. Caesar’s house, although he had been home for some weeks, leaving out every bit concerning Mr. di Angelo. He didn’t want to rip any old wound open, both his and Piper’s. She later told him of her time in the city, how life was so different there, and made her miss every one of them. They moved to the stairs in front of the door, watching Jonathan run around.

“Did it work?” Will asked, afraid of the answer. When he closed his eyes, he still saw Mr. di Angelo, the water sticking his clothes to his body, the disgust in his eyes when he confessed those feelings that so deeply hunted him.

“I think so,” Piper said. “If I saw him on the streets, I might even not recognize him. Maybe in a couple of years I will laugh about it, and the way I fell so quickly, despite my best intentions.”

It constricted Will’s heart. He smiled, a tight one that he knew didn’t look natural.

“I almost forgot,” Piper said, clapping her hands, waiting for Will to look at her. “I met the postman as I was coming here, and he had a letter for you. I took it, but I was confused, as it is from Mr. di Angelo.”

Will’s heart stopped again. He turned to his sister, feeling stiff and awkward in his own skin. “Have you read it?”

“No, of course not.”

Piper took an envelope from the pocket of her long dress. Will’s fingers shook as she passed it to him, and he cradled it close to his chest.

“Do you have any idea what he wants?” She asked, her voice almost fragile, and Will wondered whether she had really forgotten about Mr. Grace, if only the ghost of his presence did this to her. “I didn’t think you two exchanged letters.”

“We don’t,” Will said. He cleared his throat, standing, but the pavement swayed under his feet. “I’ll go read it somewhere.”

Piper nodded, her eyes boring holes his back as he walked away.

Will sat by the river, the wind caressing the grass and making it dance behind him, as he looked up, wordlessly asking for the strength of opening that letter. Eventually, it came to him. Mr. di Angelo had written it by hand, in an elegant but rushed handwriting. The envelope, which had in fact seemed quite full, contained two sheets of paper. Will shook himself out of getting lost in the details, to finally read that letter. He wasn’t surprised by how Mr. di Angelo had avoided any term of greeting.

Be not alarmed by receiving this letter, as I intend not to bother you with those feelings which have disgusted so much you in June, but only to explain myself. With that, I do not wish to persuade you into agreeing to feelings you firmly refused, nor to humble my character in any way. The only thing I wish for, is the possibility of telling you my motivations, as I can never talk properly, especially when I find myself around you. You revolted two accusations against me: the first, separating Mr. Grace and your sister; the second, which I regret far less, is throwing Mr. Lawrence’s life away. I would like to start with the first.

I will not hide behind lies. It is true, I have separated Mr. Grace and your sister, and at the time I believed my reasons to be right. I looked at them closely, as my friend is sometimes too generous and is taken advance of, and I didn’t want to witness anything of the kind in Meryton, which for him was a fresh breath. I watched closely, saw my friend falling more and more in love, for someone that shied away from his offers. For a time, I believed that she was playing a game of sorts, trying to get him to want her more. I apologize for being such an Alpha.

Jason couldn’t talk of anything if it didn’t concern her, and your step-mother never said that your sister was in love, but only that she hoped to finally marry her off, as I caught her saying numerous times. Other times again, and you were there, too, so you should remember, she talked of how Jason should have hurried in proposing, as Piper could have had any other Alpha she wanted.

After the ball at Netherfield, I asked Miss Grace whether she had noticed it. We don’t often see things eye-to-eye, but we both care about Jason. So I invented having some urgent business in London, to which Miss Grace added herself as company. Jason added himself to the party, as we knew he would, and, although we hadn’t even thought of inviting Mr. and Mrs. Jackson, they came, too. We left during the night, and I only talked to Mr. Grace when we reached London, told him about my doubts, and he said he had shared them for some time, but thought he was only imagining her coldness towards him, as he misses the sun when it is covered by a cloud, with the faith that he will see it again.

I was sure I had only protected him, and his heart broke, so we never came back to Netherfield. I recognize my fault, and I will never apologize enough to either Jason nor your sister for the heartbreak I have caused them both.

As for the other matter, that of Mr. Lawrence, I am sure he told you a story. If you are willing to read more, I would like to tell you the real story, as long as it is.

I was my parents’ second born child. My sister Bianca died before she could present, but she had a frail scent. Even as a Beta, my parents had chosen her as an heir, and my being born an Alpha wouldn’t have changed that. I wanted to be a merchant, as my maternal grandfather was, and travel Europe and the rest of the world. I was young when my mother died, and my father married Hazel’s mother. However, she died, too.

For all that time, Bryce’s father worked for mine. He died when his son was eight, and I was seven. My father raised Bryce like a son, and I saw him so much as a brother, that I thought he would have been my father’s heir, when Bianca died. She was thirteen, and I was ten. Her death was a terrible accident, that involved my cousin Percy. I blamed him, under the influence of Bryce, but we were both children, and I can’t find it in myself to hold a grudge anymore.

Bryce was afraid of many things. He didn’t want to lose his family, and neither did I. With the years, we grew closer and closer, to the point that I thought he would never leave my life, I didn’t wish for it.

My father died when I was nineteen. It was a terrible time, I won’t lie. I tried to take care of all of his possessions, affirming myself so that I would be respected enough to not be challenged, before risking battles I couldn’t have won. I managed to affirm myself in that way, but I had left my family for too long, and when I returned, things had irreparably changed. I didn’t even realize.

Not long after my father’s death, Bryce told me that he didn’t wish to be a clergyman, thus taking the living my father had prepared for him, and asked for money instead. I accepted, and the next morning he was gone. Hazel was heartbroken, as she always cares too deeply.

Not a week had passed, when Bryce returned, saying he had made the greatest of mistakes, spending to the last penny in gambling and drinking. He asked for forgiveness, and I told him he didn’t need any, as he was a brother to me. I was a fool to think it would be all he would have done.

The following morning, Lady Persephone, my father’s third wife, left for her mother’s house. She had helped me, but she needed peace and time to grieve. How one could find peace with Lady Demeter still goes beyond me. The day she left, is the day I would have needed the most guidance, to see what was happening behind me.

Bryce left to study, and eventually taking his living. Not two months later, he asked me to give him more money, and I refused, knowing he would have spent it before night came. I had grown prideful in those days, and I appear to still be. If in his story he said that I have laughed in his face, I can make no deny. He also said that he couldn’t find any happiness in his studies, and I told him that there would always be a place for him with me.

So he abandoned his studies, and returned to live with me and Hazel. Even when he returned, I didn’t feel any less alone, but still kept everyone away. I didn’t acknowledge my pain, nor did I notice Hazel’s.

She was young, only sixteen, and Bryce has always been charming. I loved him so much, I couldn’t even be jealous of that. He charmed my sister, while I was too blinded with the pain caused by my new responsibilities, the ones I had never wished for. To this day, I don’t know exactly what lies he told her, but she believed that he loved her, and she mistook the brotherly love she held for him for something else. Understand that she was in a fragile state, and he took advance of that.

They ran away. I tracked them not too far, as Bryce may be charming, but he surely isn’t the brightest. He didn’t think that I would be able to find my sister through scent alone, even when it was only barely lingering in the air. For the first time, I thanked God for being born with the nose of an Alpha. I paid Bryce, and he promised to disappear from our lives.

When I saw him from the tea-shop last Spring, I thought it was a nightmare. I didn’t know he had become a soldier. I went to talk to him the morning of the ball in Netherfield. I have to admit, I didn’t like how he was always around you and your siblings. However, I didn’t get to speak to him, as when I arrived he was drunk, and I have too much dignity to try to speak to someone who wouldn’t even recall the conversation the following day.

I believe that this is all I have to say. I wish I had been able to tell you earlier, Mr. Solace, but as I have already said, there is something about you that makes my tongue tie. If you do not believe my words, I would ask you not to ask Hazel, who still finds shame in the naivety of her young age, but to Reyna, whom I always confessed my crimes to. I realize that there is nothing more I could ever ask you for, but as you said I am an arrogant man, so, if you will, consider my sister your friend, despite the brother she has found herself with. As you once told me, one does chose their family.

I hope this letter finds you and your family in good health and well,

my best wishes,

Nicolò di Angelo.

Drew found Will with tears running down his face, and an expression so devastated that his sadness couldn’t be mistaken. She sat by him, nosing along his scent gland, covering his sour scent with her own.

“What is it?” She asked.

But Will only shook his head. “It’s nothing.” She didn’t bulge, and it wasn’t long before Will spilled the truth. “As you know, Mr. Caesar works for Lady Demeter, Mr. di Angelo’s grandmother. I met both him and his sister there.”

“Your luck is incredible at times,” Drew said.

“I know. I learnt some things about him, and his past, but also about Mr. Grace.” Will sighed, and found Drew looking up at him. “Should I tell Piper? She says she is finally doing better, and I don’t want to rip an old wound open.”

“I don’t think you should tell her. Mr. Grace is not our problem anymore, and he broke her heart. He can stay wherever he is.” Her nose scrunched up. “The only thing she can do now, is moving forward, and leave him in the past.”

Up until the end of the Summer, they were in peace. Piper settled back to life in the countryside, the younger siblings – besides Mitchell, who would return when August ended – went back to their lessons, and Aphrodite’s nerves gave up every other hour.

Will tried his best not to think of Mr. di Angelo, busying himself every time the thought resurfaced. However, when he closed his eyes at night, he couldn’t help but get through their every interaction, and everything he had ever been told about the man.

He thought of their only dance together. Mr. di Angelo’s heart had beaten wildly, and even then, Will had wondered whether it was for the attention. After Mr. di Angelo’s confession, he wondered whether it was for his particular attention.

In August, their aunt Artemis wrote a letter to her brother, asking whether Will was willing to visit Derbyshire with her and another friend. Not a week later, Will was leaving again.

Artemis didn’t like traveling alone. Will wasn’t sure what her business in London was, he knew that she fought social battles, and had some contacts inside the Parliament, especially in the House of Commons. For that particular travel, Will was with her and Hippolytus, a Beta working for her. He wasn’t fond of marriage, mating and romance, as he told Will himself.

“Derbyshire is beautiful this season,” Artemis said, the third night of their tour.

They were sleeping in inns, and they had been lucky enough not to meet any Alpha nor Beta who gave them a hard time, despite some people’s stares staying uncomfortably long on Will, at times.

Hippolytus nodded. “Are we visiting the di Angelo estate tomorrow? I heard it’s stunning.”

Will almost dropped his glass. “Pemberley, you mean?”

Hippolytus nodded again, tilting his head to the side. “You look like you have seen a ghost. Are you quite alright?”

“Just a bit tired,” Will said, and it wasn’t a lie. “What were you saying about tomorrow?”

Artemis chuckled. “We are visiting the di Angelo estate tomorrow, or Pemberley. I wrote to the housekeeper, and she is willing to have us. Although Mr. di Angelo won’t be there.”

“Are you sure?” Will insisted, leaning forward on the table. “That he won’t be home.”

Artemis furrowed her eyebrows. “Did you want to meet him? I hear he’s grown to be quite gorgeous.”

Heat rose to Will’s face. He blurted a negative answer out, the words tumbled down his tongue, but he didn’t wish to know whether his aunt and Hippolytus had heard him. He gave them both a tight smile, bid them goodnight, and escaped before they could understand what had happened.

Pemberley House wasn’t far from the town of Lambton. They walked there, as Artemis was as fond of walking as Will.

Pemberley House was on the opposite side of the valley, and it caught the eye, despite being in perfect harmony with the natural beauty of the place.

The housekeeper was an old woman called Beatrice, whose words were stained by an Italian accent. In fact, as she led them inside, she revealed that late Mr. di Angelo had employed her shortly before his first marriage, so that his wife would have someone to talk to in her native language.

“He loved her so much,” she said. “That although she was an Omega and he an Alpha, he took her name. Come, I’ll show you the gallery with the family portraits.”

“I met him once,” Artemis said later on, as they stopped in front of a paint of late Mr. di Angelo. “He always looked so stoic.”

Will thought the same of his son. They looked like one another, and even in the portrait, Mr. di Angelo wore dark clothes.

“He did, didn’t he?” Beatrice said, tilting her head to the side. Melancholic joy shone between the tears in her eyes. “I remember when Bianca was born, and how happy they were.”

Next was a family portrait, in which Mr. di Angelo was only a baby, laying in his crib with the rest of the family around it. Will remained in front of it for a longer time, even when the others had moved on. His aunt called him out.

“Are you having baby fever, dear?” She asked teasingly, poking him in the belly. “Should we expect any surprise?”

Will only blushed.

Bianca di Angelo and her brother shared many qualities, such as their eyes. Beatrice confirmed as much.

“It’s strange sometimes, to walk here and see all their faces, when only one is left,” she said. “I look at him, and I can see Bianca, Maria and Hades, too. It’s a heavy luggage to carry, for only one person.”

A knot tightened Will’s throat. Even if he wanted, he couldn’t find it in himself to talk.

They passed by another section, that had portraits of Mr. di Angelo’s second wife, Miss Levesque. She looked much like her daughter, which Beatrice said wasn’t as good a thing, as she had gone through a bad time after her pregnancy.

“She was happy when she was expecting,” she told them. “But afterwards, she couldn’t find such joy in anything else. She wanted other children, but her health was too frail, and Mr. di Angelo had to refuse her. It broke her heart.”

Late Mr. di Angelo’s wife was called Persephone. She was still alive, as Will knew, and spent most of her time with her mother, although she sometime came back, to make sure that the children were doing well.

In the last section were portraits of only the children.

“Bianca was beautiful,” Artemis said. “But what I liked the most about her, was her cleverness.”

“You knew her, madam?” Beatrice asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise.

Although he didn’t see himself, Will knew he wore the same expression.

“She visited London with her father, not long before she passed,” Artemis replied. “She wanted to work with the Hunters of Diana, when she was older.”

Beatrice shook her head. “Such a tragedy.”

Will stopped in front of a painting of Mr. di Angelo, made not too long ago, he could tell. He recognized the style, as he had seen it already.

“Is this Hazel’s painting?” He asked.

Beatrice nodded. “Do you know her, sir?”

“I met her in Rosings in June,” Will said. “But I already knew her brother, from when he visited Meryton.”

“Tell me, is he as handsome as he is in these paintings?” Artemis asked.

Beatrice chuckled, stating that he was. Artemis’ eyes stayed on Will, and if her smile was anything to go by, his blush was answer enough for her.

Lastly, Beatrice brought them to the library, but Will was lost in the way. A slow melody played on the violin reached his ears, and as a fool he followed it. Since he was always behind them, his companions didn’t even notice.

The door was left ajar. In the air lingered a familiar scent, sweet. Only when he noticed, did Will know that he was hoping for another. He stumbled back, but Hazel’s melody didn’t even falter.

Will turned, and before he knew it, he was on the balcony, and then down to the connected stairs. He passed through the gardens, breathing in the scent of fresh flowers. He closed his eyes, turning his face to the sun, and leaning back against a column.

The distinct sound of a carriage trained by horses shook Will from his peace. Was it Artemis’? No, they had left it at the inn, and come by foot. So he walked again, and reached the front of the house, to see the carriage being taken away, and Artemis, Hippolytus and Beatrice talking to a man.

The doors opened to reveal Hazel, her gown in her hand, the brightest of smiles on her face, as she called her brother’s name. Not that Will was surprised in the least to see that it was Mr. di Angelo.

Artemis gestured for Will to come closer, and he did, although the ground was spinning under his feet, and there was nothing anchoring him to reality.

Mr. di Angelo let his sister down, as Artemis presented Will as her brother’s son. Mr. di Angelo’s eyebrows shot up, as Hazel greeted Will, squeezing his hands. Mr. di Angelo was wearing a loose-fitting white shirt, that left most of his shoulders and collarbones exposed. Will looked away with a blush.

“It’s been so long,” Hazel told him, as they went back inside, hooking an arm in his and one in her brother’s. “How is your family doing?”

Will nodded, completely transfixed on the patterns on the floor.

“William?” She called him. When he startled, she looked over at her brother.

Mr. di Angelo had an eyebrow raised, as he always had, and seemed very stoic. Will wanted to shake him, and see the man behind the statue, the one that had written him the letter that had kept him awake for several nights.

“I’m sorry, I was distracted,” he said. “Could you repeat, please?”

Hazel chuckled. “I was asking about your family.”

“They are doing fine,” Will said. “My sister Piper has returned to London, and in the next few days Mitchell will return from Brighton. In three days I will return home, too.”

“I’m afraid I may have changed your plans,” Mr. di Angelo said. “I have invited Miss Solace to fish in our lake. You are welcome to join us, of course.”

“Fishing is boring,” Hazel cut in. “I will show William the gardens.”

They stopped in the parlor, where Mr. di Angelo called a servant to bring tea.

“My older sister spoke highly of the Hunters,” Mr. di Angelo told Artemis. “You may know my cousin, Thalia Grace. She works with you, now.”

Artemis nodded. “Of course. She is brilliant. And she left for Meryton, too, didn’t she?”

“She did,” Mr. di Angelo told her. His eyes flickered to Will. “She and Mrs. Jackson are thinking of returning during the Autumn, but I don’t think they will want Mr. Jackson, Mr. Grace nor me, too.”

“You should,” Will said.

Mr. di Angelo blushed, or something close to it.

Will didn’t see Mr. di Angelo the following day, as he had already left the estate to prepare the boat. A butler walked Artemis and Hippolytus to the docks, so that they could reach him.

“When dad was still alive, they used to go fishing together,” Hazel told him. “I never joined them, but sometimes Percy and his father did.”

“Your brother wanted to be a merchant, didn’t he?” Will said, recalling the letter.

Hazel giggled. “He did. How did you know?”

Will blushed, but lied easily. “He told me.”

They laid a blanket to sit on in the grass, opening the basket Hazel had stuffed with food.

“He was a sweetheart when he was little. Your youngest brother is only seven, am I right?”

Will nodded. “He hasn’t presented, but we know he’ll be an Omega. His scent is so sweet. Mr. Caesar knows it, too.”

“He is your father’s heir, isn’t he?”

“Oh, yes. My step-mother is already lost in desperation over it.”

“It must be so hard, knowing your house won’t be yours forever,” she said. “Especially if you still have children as young as your brother Jonathan.”

Will hadn’t thought about it that way. But as he did, for the first time, he wished to never have to feel what Aphrodite had, when she had married his father, only to then realize how frail their stability was.

Being tired, Will had chosen to leave for the inn early. He and Hazel separated at the door, with the newly made promise of writing.

“William.”

Will startled, looking behind himself, where Artemis, Hippolytus and Mr. di Angelo were coming from. Mr. di Angelo didn’t smile, but his shoulders relaxed, and so did his face.

“May I see you to the village?” Mr. di Angelo asked him.

Will’s heart skipped a beat, or maybe more. “No, no! I’m very fond of walking.”

“Yes, I know.” He hesitated for a moment, and opened his mouth as if he were about to say more, but changed his mind the last second. “I know.”

Will nodded, and took a step back. “Goodbye, then.”

Mr. di Angelo nodded without a word, his jaw closed so tightly a muscle jumped. Will’s eyes stayed on him longer than they should have, as his words echoed in his mind, with nothing to stop them.

You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Will couldn’t find it in himself to forgive Mr. di Angelo for the pain he had admitted loving him caused, as though Will were some unlovable creature.

When Will reached the inn, he was surprised to find a letter for himself from his sister Piper. He opened it when he was already in bed. He read it once, then three other times, but it still wasn’t enough to make sense of the words written. Before he knew it, he was crying.

Will’s thoughts went to his family, and when he cried about them enough, his mind went to Mr. di Angelo, and how he would never see him again, as a man of his standing would never mix with one whose Omega brother had run away from home. After all, it seemed that Mitchell had really managed to throw away the good name of the family.

When Will heard the sound of a carriage outside, he quickly moved downstairs, crumbled letter in his hands. Artemis was talking to Hippolytus, and of course Mr. di Angelo was with them, because somehow he had acquired extremely good-manners in the time Will hadn’t seen him.

Artemis talked to him, but Will didn’t hear a word, only trusted the letter in her hands. Hippolytus asked what was happening, and so did Mr. di Angelo’s confused brow, but Will couldn’t bring himself to talk, he wasn’t even sure he still had a voice.

“Oh, dear goodness,” she said, her arm going around Will’s waist. She bared her neck, and Will didn’t have to think twice before letting the scent envelope him. “There’s been a problem with one of his siblings.”

Will turned to Mr. di Angelo. He would have felt like a liar and a hypocrite to keep it, when he had been told so much about the other’s life. “Mitchell ran away with Lawrence.”

Mr. di Angelo paled, taking a step closer and raising his hands, dropping them again when he realized he didn’t know where to put them. He looked so utterly lost in that conflict, Will would have laughed.

Shame curled in Will’s chest. He wished Mr. di Angelo hadn’t come, so Will’s last memory of him would have been that of him in the gardens in front of Pemberley, with the sun shining on him, when, with only one step, Will would have reached him. Now he felt far, far away.

“Tomorrow you will bring Will home,” Artemis told Hippolytus. “I’ll reach my brother in London, see what we can do.”

Sometime later, when he was in bed about to fall asleep, Will realized that he didn’t remember going upstairs, nor bidding Mr. di Angelo goodbye. He almost wished he did.

As expected of her, Mrs. Solace was utterly heartbroken. She cried and cried. Her son was lost forever, and her late-husband would never forgive her. Jonathan didn’t understand what was happening, and Piper and Will tried to keep him and the others out of the house as much as they could. However, they could only find a resemblance of peace when they were together under the furs, a pile of limbs and familiar scents.

Some days later, Apollo returned. Jonathan jumped in his arms as soon as he got out of the carriage, and their father scented him thoroughly. He took Piper in his arms, too. Will watched from the door, too afraid to walk out.

“You didn’t find them,” Will stated.

Apollo let go of Piper, but he kept Jonathan close. As he opened the mouth to reply, the door opened behind Will, revealing Austin.

“So?” He asked. “Where is Mitchell?”

“Let’s go inside,” Apollo said, rubbing his eyes, under which dark circles aged his face.

Will exchanged a look with Piper. Apollo would have already talked if there had been good news. They went upstairs, and Mrs. Solace wailed again when she saw her husband, only stopping when he sat beside her on the bed, caressing her neck.

“We almost found them,” he said. Will’s heart stopped. “They rented an apartment in the outskirts of London, but when we arrived they had already left.”

“What did he want from Mitchell?” Lacy asked. “Why couldn’t he wait to marry him properly?”

Will sighed, moving closer to his sister and putting his arms around her from behind. Truth be told, he didn’t know either. Mr. Lawrence had known that they weren’t rich, Mitchell didn’t have Hazel’s dowry. With them, he wouldn’t find much. If he married Mitchell at all, that would be the real surprise.

“He’s lost,” Mrs. Solace said. She hid under the furs, wailing loudly. “My boy, my poor boy.”

For almost another week, the house mourned Mitchell (and also their good name).

“I can’t believe he escaped,” muttered Lacy several times, leaning with her shoulder against the corridor as Will was passing.

Will, knowing well that she didn’t even know she was talking out loud, walked past her. Drew caught his forearm, dragging him in the parlor with her, where she was just waiting for another victim.

“If we say that he died–” she started in a low tone.

“No,” Will said firmly.

“–as if you haven’t thought about that, too.”

Will sighed. “I really haven’t, and you should stop.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“As you didn’t the first thirty times I told you.”

Drew rolled her eyes, hissing something under her breath, probably a plot against Will’s life. Calling every last bit of patience he still had, Will maintained his calm, and quietly walked away, only to be too quiet, and cause Austin to not hear him, and run into him.

“Are you a ghost or something?” Austin asked, rubbing his head. “I didn’t even hear you.”

Just a day or two prior, Piper had asked Will why he had been so silent lately, also stating he didn’t look much like himself. Not to give her any more heartbreak, Will used Mitchell’s situation as an excuse for his perturbation. And he was thinking of a man, it just wasn’t Mitchell, nor Mr. Lawrence. He thought that he wanted to know more about Mr. di Angelo, and dance with him again, in a situation that he could enjoy, unlike the first time. He also thought about Hazel, and how their friendship had already come to an end.

“What were you even running for?” Will asked, helping Austin up.

Austin lightened, clapping his hands. “Post!” He exclaimed, grabbing Will’s hand. “From aunt Artemis.” Austin didn’t let go of him, running to the garden, where Mr. Solace was, standing alone under the sun.

A window opened from above as he read, for Mrs. Solace stuck her head out.

“What were you two running for?” She shouted. “No running in the house!”

“We are in the garden!” Austin responded.

Will scuffed his brother in the head. “There’s a letter from aunt Artemis!”

Mrs. Solace shrieked, calling the other children to the garden. As she disappeared from the window, Austin turned to remember her not to run in the house with a loud shout.

The door opened, Kayla and Piper falling to the ground, Lacy stopping just before she walked on them, as Drew snickered out loud, nudging Piper’s foot with her own. Mrs. Solace didn’t notice them, and stumbled on Kayla’s legs.

“Dear,” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “What are you doing on the ground when we may finally know of your brother’s future?”

“And ours!” Drew said. “We are one step from falling into utter disgrace, remember?”

Mr. Solace laughed, loud and clear. “Oh, dear.” Attention shifted back to him, as he shook his head. The shadows that had been on his face for days finally left, leaving him in a state of utter delight. “They will marry, if I pay him £132 every year.”

“That’s so little,” Piper said, smoothing her gowns, as Mrs. Solace clapped in absolute delight.

“Your aunt must have paid him something already,” Mr. Solace said. “I doubt he would have married your brother, had it been otherwise.”

Mrs. Solace gasped. “Why would you say something so unromantic? If they ran away together, they must love each other! Mitchell is beautiful and charming, who wouldn’t want to marry him?”

“Does she know the same Mitchell as I do?” Drew asked Will.

“Drew,” Piper hissed.

“There’s no need to say the things we are already thinking out loud, dear,” Mr. Solace reprimanded her. “If you’ll excuse me, I must write back immediately. Unless my dearest wife thinks there’s no need to reassure him with our money, and that I should just let them be. After all, they love each other.”

The carriage stopped in front of Longbourn House. Mitchell acted as the star of a parade, waving at them delightfully. Jonathan was the only one who waved back.

“I can’t believe he did this to us,” Austin whispered, his lips tugged downwards. “He would have thrown us all in the dirt to have – have fun with that man.”

Lacy’s hand reached for his, her hold so tight his knuckles turned white. He didn’t seem to mind, only dropping his head on her shoulder, as uncomfortable as it was, since he was much taller than her.

“We only need to get through today,” Will said. “Then we can forget all about this.”

“Mitchell is married,” Kayla said. “We can’t forget. He’s – he’s lost, mother was right.”

“He was lost long before this,” Piper cut in. “He was lost when all he did was flirting with officers and spend his time idly lazing around.”

The matter was dropped, as their parents were done talking to the spouses, and it was their turn to greet them.

Mitchell showed them his ring several times, and uncovered his neck for them to see Mr. Lawrence’s bites. Each time, Will nodded, smiling tightly, acting like his heart wasn’t breaking, and shivers weren’t running down his spine, despite the temperature. If his siblings’ expressions were anything to go by, he wasn’t alone in the act.

The one who felt more at fault was Piper. She wasn’t only the oldest of the family, but also Mitchell’s oldest by blood. Whereas Kayla and Austin still tended to turn to Will first for counsel, the McLeans went to Piper first.

Mr. Lawrence remained inside with their parents, while Mitchell joined the siblings in the garden. Even in his mind, Will had already started referring to him as Mitchell instead of brother, his instincts recognizing the change in his scent. He was Mitchell, but he wasn’t Will’s Mitchell. Separation hit wolves hard, even if packs weren’t formally stated, hadn’t been since before medieval times.

Lacy sat on the swing, Kayla cuddling beside her.

“You will want to avoid doing that, if you want to look adult enough for a husband,” Mitchell said.

Piper opened his mouth to reply, and so did Will, ready to cut Mitchell off before the youngers stared believing him, but Austin did it first.

“I don’t even want to know the things you did to get that husband,” he said.

Something like hurt flashed in Mitchell’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced with anger. “I won’t tell you anything, as you are, and will always be, my younger and jealous brother.”

Austin slumped against the tree, shaking his head, and looking utterly defeated.

“You should have come up for my wedding,” Mitchell said. “It would have been even funnier with all of you there. I’m the third oldest, and the first to marry.”

Drew outright scoffed, and Will pinched her side. Whatever had happened, they couldn’t change it, even if they cursed Mitchell out. Drew was being courted by Lou Ellen, Lacy was ‘secretly’ talking to Artemis about joining the Hunters, Austin had dreams of touring with his music, and Kayla sometimes was keen on joining him. Who knew when they would all be together again!

“Mr. di Angelo said we didn’t have time to bring you all up there,” Mitchell continued, and then covered his mouth, as though it could put the words back in.

Will startled. “Mr. di Angelo?” He asked.

His siblings probably did the same, but the world around him was spinning, and he was numb to everything, except for Mitchell’s next words.

“He was there. He is friends with Bryce, he told me. He’s the last person before Bryce talked to before proposing to me. I swore to secrecy, though. For some reason, he didn’t want anyone to know he was there.”

#solangelo #solangelo fic #solangelo au #pride and prejudice au #omegaverse #slow burn #slow build #will solace #nico di angelo

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fortunebuoyed · 3 years

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Meta + Daniel’s family // @caravaggiovagabond

I feel like, for a majority of people, the family you are born into is going to be the first community that truly has impact on you. Before you even know there is a world outside, with all its expectations and myriad reactions to who you are, there are the people who raise you and in some cases are raised with you. This has especially been the case with Daniel, the youngest of five, the accident, but a favored son in many regards. Daniel the neat, conscientious boy who was the pride of his unremarkable parents who produced otherwise unremarkable children. Danny was going places. No one realized the boy was born with a shovel in hand, ready to dig his own grave.

Certainly not his mother, the middle American space case that came to California on a dream. She drove until she ran out of gas money and settled into whatever nowhere town would have her. It was just a temporary pit stop on her great cosmic journey, Katherine would laugh, working odd jobs and earning an odder reputation. Back then they just called it free-spirited, and her moments of great introspective melancholy nothing more than a flash of maturity shining through. Mother is God in the eyes of a child, and Katherine knit all of her babies in with soft words and open arms, armed with books and a spontaneity that could prove downright manic. Daniel was her thoughtful boy, her fellow dreamer, and all that was derided in her she celebrated in him. She handed down that wandering spirit and questioning nature, and something more just beneath the surface, lying in wait until the very end of adolescence caused it to spring fully formed in his mind like Athena.

And maybe Daniel might have had a chance, had she chosen any other man to marry. She met an east coast stranger chasing down a job offer after the war. New in town and handsome as anything, Robert was the kind of man who could charm anyone, even if he fumbled often enough as a father. His intentions were good. Intentions don’t count for much in life, but at least he tried. God only knows what he would have been without the alcohol, other than alive. Daniel was his favorite, his Danny Boy, and for all the wrong he might have accomplished chasing competence, he is remembered fondly by his youngest. Too fondly, perhaps, for all the ways they overlap. All Bob’s surviving friends tell Daniel he looks just like his father, though Bob reached an age that Daniel never will, and Daniel is now older than Bob ever got to be. He died before Daniel graduated high school, years of drinking catching up with him. But you know, at the end of his mortal life, he understood intimately why the old man who never got to be truly old preferred to see the world from the other side of a bottle.

The pair had a proper Catholic wedding, wasted no time in achieving their marital duties. Three sons and a single daughter came before Daniel, and all things considered, they did a fine enough job. Three out of five ended up stable. The boys don’t matter so much to him -- Sure, they’re his brothers, and he likes them well enough, but he never quite connected with them like he did his sister.

First was Peter, the furthest from Daniel himself in more ways than one. Former high school sports star, now he’s a teacher living on the East Coast with his normal wife and normal kids. The kind of brother you spare a Christmas and Birthday call then shrug off the rest of the year.

Next came James, a card-carrying nerd, the kind you can find in any Hollywood stereotype, working for some IT company in SoCal to put his kids through private school. He sometimes summers on the Island, polite enough to stay out of Daniel’s hair for the most part.

Luke’s the one that took the most after their mother, drifting across the road chasing Americana and putting as much distance as possible between he and his ex. Of the three, Daniel might admit to liking Luke the best.

If you want to really know Daniel, you go to his sister, Maryanne. Two years his senior, and his closest friend in the world through all his human life. She’s always been Annie to the family, Annie and Danny being a matching pair to hear their father talk. Ash haired and sapphire eyed, she has always kept a good head on her shoulders and a protective streak towards her younger brother. The streak of Molloy independence still runs in her, no matter how loyal she is to her baby brother and mother. She eloped at 20 and made her way to Oregon, desperate to get out of Sacramento, out from the shadow of her father’s addictions, trying to outrun the codependency that their mother embraced. Her beau repaid her by ending up like her father, and she returned fire in making the decision to leave. She knew where that path ended and she knew she would be powerless next to his decisions. Maybe one day her daughter will forgive her for it.

And don’t get him wrong, there’s no bad blood between he and his family. They were even really supportive, if for the most part confused, when he came out of the closet. His family did nothing to estrange him, nor did he cut ties officially. It’s just that he got... busy. Caught up in his obsessions, in Armand, and drifted away like his mother before him. Under the urging of others, he’s begun to reach out to them again from the 90s onward, beyond Annie’s insistent presence in his life -- more on that later.

What we take from this is three important figures and their impacts: Katherine’s ‘bad brains,’ Robert’s addictions, and Annie as the safe place to land.

On some level, Daniel feels responsible for his mother in her old age, when she has no one else in the house to support her. When he sends money back West from the Island, it’s going to his mother and sister. He knows he was her favorite, his mother’s hope for a remarkable child. In some ways, he is that, the accomplished writer, the successful businessman. He can hear the smile in her voice when she’s in the background of a call, announcing that it’s ‘Danny.’ He keeps his distance largely to keep her illusions alive. He’ll make a better ideal than a son, he’s sure. His mother has always done better with her own world than reality, the same as him, even if her coping takes a different shape.

In life, even at the end of it, Daniel would often go crawling back to his sister, when he thought it wasn’t dangerous to do so. She would demand phone calls, hassle him with questions, try to stage interventions for his drinking and relationship with this mysterious man both. It was killing him, she said, and threw up her hands in disgust at his dramatic ‘maybe I’m already dead.’ Regardless of his theatrics, she made it perfectly clear he didn’t even have to come to her, if he would only call she would buy him a ticket home, no matter where he was in the world.

The only time he really felt scared about all of it, truly scared for himself rather than intrigued by his own terror, was in Annie’s presence. Somewhere between his final escape and a rainy Chicago night, he ended up back in Sacramento, as he so often did -- Annie cried to see him in such a state. Told him he was sick, told him to stay, told him she would call a doctor. She knew. She was strong enough to face what an immortal and the dying man in question had fought so hard to ignore. Many nights, she still doubts her brother is actually alive after the state he was in during that final visit. The first time he skips one of their weekly phone calls, she’ll be on the first plane to Miami. Til then, she’ll keep praying for him.

In a lot of ways, she’s the sense Daniel never had.

As for Robert, well.. One doesn’t have to be a genius to make out how he was the blueprint for his son’s later struggles. Both were beautiful men who threw themselves body and soul into what ultimately killed them. Only, Daniel was far more his father’s son before that San Francisco night, a popular boy with nothing but goodwill. In recent years, he’s started to make more of a connection between his downward spiral and that of his father, and is taking measures to try and pull himself out of the eternal overlap. He can’t help looking like the father he lost. He can, however, help walking the same path of altruistic desires muddled by mediocrity.

#yes the molloy family comes with lore this is a kadi production i have lore for every god damn member of my muse's families #i did a soup boy write up for God's sake. fuckin Soup Boy.#antidotes and revelations [ DANIEL ; HEADCANON ]#parent death //#alcoholism //#caravaggiovagabond

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gadgetgirl71 · 3 years

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Top Ten Tuesday 16 March 2021

Welcome to this weeks Top Ten Tuesday. Originally created by The Broke & The Bookish, which is now hosted by Jana @ That Artsy Reader Girl. Each week it features a book or literary themed category. This weeks prompt is:

Books On My Spring 2021 TBR

Girl in the Walls (ARC)

Synopsis: Girl in the Walls is a story of overcoming grief, of unconventional friendships and learning that we shouldn’t always fear what we don’t understand. It is about understanding the difference between a house and a home and what it means to lose both. She doesn’t exist. She can’t exist. Elise knows every inch of the house. She knows which boards will creak. She knows where the gaps are in the walls. She knows which parts can take her in, hide her away. It’s home, after all. The home her parents made for her. And home is where you stay, no matter what. Eddie is a teenager now, almost a grown-up. He must no longer believe in the girl he sometimes sees our of the corner of his eye. He needs her to disappear. But when his fierce older brother senses her, too, they are faced with the question of how to get rid of someone they aren’t sure even exists. And, if they cast her out, what other threats might they invite into their home?

Pages: 323, Publication Date: 18 March 2021

The Best Things (ARC)

Synopsis: Warm, funny, life-affirming and true, The Best Things is the joyous debut novel from much-loved comedian, writer, actor and presenter Mel Giedroyc.

It’s the story of a family who lose everything, only to find themselves, and each other, along the way.

Sally and Frank Parker have it all.

Then one day, because of Frank, they don’t.

As the bailiffs move in and the money runs out, Sally realises that she and her children don’t have a clue about how to survive.

Or do they?

The Parkers are about to discover that the best things in life aren’t things at all.

Pages: 432, Publication Date: 1 April 2021

The Dictionary of Lost Words (ARC)

Synopsis: In 1901, the word ‘Bondmaid’ was discovered missing from the Oxford English Dictionary. This is the story of the girl who stole it.

Esme is born into a world of words. Motherless and irrepressibly curious, she spends her childhood in the ‘Scriptorium’, a garden shed in Oxford where her father and a team of dedicated lexicographers are collecting words for the very first Oxford English Dictionary. Esme’s place is beneath the sorting table, unseen and unheard. One day a slip of paper containing the word ‘bondmaid’ flutters to the floor. Esme rescues the slip and stashes it in an old wooden case that belongs to her friend, Lizzie, a young servant in the big house. Esme begins to collect other words from the Scriptorium that are misplaced, discarded or have been neglected by the dictionary men. They help her make sense of the world.

Over time, Esme realises that some words are considered more important than others, and that words and meanings relating to women’s experiences often go unrecorded. While she dedicates her life to the Oxford English Dictionary, secretly, she begins to collect words for another dictionary: The Dictionary of Lost Words.

Set when the women’s suffrage movement was at its height and the Great War loomed, The Dictionary of Lost Words reveals a lost narrative, hidden between the lines of a history written by men. It’s a delightful, lyrical and deeply thought-provoking celebration of words, and the power of language to shape the world and our experience of it.

Pages: 384, Publication Date: 8 April 2021

The Summer Job (ARC)

Synopsis: Have you ever imagined running away from your life?

Well Birdy Finch didn’t just imagine it. She did it. Which might’ve been an error. And the life she’s run into? Her best friend, Heather’s.

The only problem is, she hasn’t told Heather. Actually there are a few other problems…

Can Birdy carry off a summer at a luxury Scottish hotel pretending to be her best friend (who incidentally is a world-class wine expert)?

And can she stop herself from falling for the first man she’s ever actually liked (but who thinks she’s someone else)?

A snort-out-loud romcom for fans of The Flatshare.

Pages: 352, Publication Date: 15 April 2021

Cunning Woman (ARC)

Synopsis: Lee is a magnetic new voice in historical fiction and CUNNING WOMEN is sure to be loved by fans of The Essex Serpent and The Mercies.

Spring of 1620 in a Lancashire fishing community and the memory of the slaughter at Pendle is tight around the neck of Sarah Haworth. A birthmark reveals that Sarah, like her mother, is a witch. Torn between yearning for an ordinary life and desire to discover what dark power she might possess, Sarah’s one hope is that her young sister Annie will be spared this fate.

The Haworth family eke out a meagre existence in the old plague village adjoining a God-fearing community presided over by a seedy magistrate. A society built upon looking the other way, the villagers’ godliness is merely a veneer. But the Haworth women, with their salves and poultices, are judged the real threat to morality.

When Sarah meets lonely farmer’s son Daniel, she begins to dream of a better future. Daniel is in thrall to the wild girl with storms in her eyes, but their bond is tested when a zealous new magistrate vows to root out sins and sinners. In a frenzy of fear and fury, the community begins to turn on one another, and it’s not long before they direct their gaze towards the old plague village … and does Daniel trust that the power Sarah wields over him is truly love, or could it be mere sorcery?

Pages: 332, Publication Date: 22 April 2021

Lost Property (ARC)

Synopsis: Dot Watson has lost her way. Twelve years ago her life veered off course, and the guilt over what happened still haunts her. Before then she was living in Paris, forging an exciting career; now her time is spent visiting her mother’s care home, fielding interfering calls from her sister and working at the London Transport Lost Property office, diligently cataloguing items as misplaced as herself. But when elderly Mr Appleby arrives in search of his late wife’s purse, his grief stirs something in Dot. Determined to help, she sets off on a mission – one that could start to heal Dot’s own loss and let her find where she belongs once more…

The Perfect Life (ARC)

Synopsis: HAVE YOU EVER WANTED TO BE SOMEONE ELSE? Vanessa has always found it easy to pretend to be somebody different, somebody better. When things get tough in her real life, all she has to do is throw on some nicer clothes, adopt a new accent and she can escape. That’s how it started: looking round houses she couldn’t possibly afford. Harmless fun really. Until it wasn’t. Because a man who lived in one of those houses is dead. And everyone thinks Vanessa killed him…

Pages: 400, Publication Date: 5 August 2021

The Summer Villa (ARC)

Synopsis: Three women. One summer reunion. Secrets will be revealed…

Villa Dolce Vita, a rambling stone house on the Amalfi Coast, sits high above the Gulf of Naples amid dappled lemon groves and fragrant, tumbling bougainvillea. Kim, Colette and Annie all came to the villa in need of escape and in the process forged an unlikely friendship.

Now, years later, Kim has transformed the crumbling house into a luxury retreat and has invited her friends back for the summer to celebrate.

But as friendships are rekindled under the Italian sun, secrets buried in the past will come to light, and not everyone is happy that the three friends are reuniting… Each woman will have things to face up to if they are all to find true happiness and fully embrace the sweet life.

Pages: 384, Publication Date: 8 August 2019

Trusting Taylor (Silverstone #2)

Synopsis: Former military man turned government assassin Kellan “Eagle” Trowbridge isn’t looking for love. He’d rather keep his head down at his cover job as an employee of Silverstone Towing. That all changes, however, when he meets Taylor Cardin.

Beautiful, smart, and witty Taylor instantly falls for the mysterious tow truck driver, who comforts her both in the aftermath of the car crash she sees firsthand and when the police dismiss her as a credible witness because of her prosopagnosia, or face blindness. Eagle, on the other hand, can remember every person he’s ever met—and the two counterparts forge an immediate connection. But someone else is just as intrigued by Taylor’s unique condition as Eagle is…and his intentions are downright deadly.

Soon, Eagle and Taylor are too caught up in each other to see the danger that’s approaching. But as time runs out, they’ll discover their love isn’t the only thing fighting to survive.

Pages: 278, Publication Date: 2 March 2021

Ransom (Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team)

Synopsis: A new series from the author of the Moonshine Task Force Series! Laurel Springs, AL is about to be hotter than a mid-August thunderstorm. When the Moonshine Task Force is absorbed into a new entity, Laurel Springs Emergency Response Team (LSERT) new faces come to town, new love is born, old love is found again, and there’s a plethora of drama and romance happening all over the tri-county area. LSERT puts police, firefighters, nurses, doctors, K-9 handlers, and EMT’s all in harm’s way as they work to keep the area safe from any threat. Emotions run high, passions ignite. Come with me, back to Laurel Springs, in what’s sure to be a wild ride! Ransom Thompson For years I’ve wanted two things – to be a member of the Moonshine Task Force and to be the man Stella Kepler can’t live without. One out of two isn’t bad, or so I tell myself. Being the only K-9 handler for The MTF presents its own share of obstacles, but me and Rambo? We make it work. Life is status quo, until I’m called in to help with what appears to be a hostage situation and Stella is right in the middle of it. This is my one chance, and I’m not going to blow it. Stella Kepler When I’m stuck in an examination room holding a hurt woman and a man with a gun, I do the only thing I can. I sneak out, call 911 and hope help comes quickly. It does. In the form of Ransom Thompson. He and I have known each other since we were babies. Our mother’s are friends, our dad’s work together, and we’ve always been friends. Only, the last few months I’ve started to notice things. How mature he is, how alpha he can be, the chiseled six-pack, and the abundance of ink spreading across his body. When I offer to cook him dinner for saving me, neither one of us know how that one moment will change the course of the rest of our lives.

Pages: 227, Publication Date: 5 January 2019

Until next week.

#justforfun #top ten tuesday #TopTenTuesday #ttt

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constantviewings · 3 years

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The TV Show Trials - Inside No. 9

Inside No. 9 is a British black comedy anthology series that first aired in 2014. It is written by Reese Shearsmith and Steve Pemberton. Each 30-minute episode is a self-contained story with new characters and a new setting, and all star both Pemberton and Shearsmith.

12 Days of Christine

When Christine brings Adam home from a costume party, her life begins to unravel. Her happiness slowly turns to sorrow.

It’s only fitting that this episode is the most popular as it is what introduced me to this entire series. This episode is phenomenal and I really enjoyed it, even though I knew the entire plot going into it. Shearsmith and Pemberton where really smart in placing the elements of the conclusion throughout the entire episode for you to piece together at the end.

Rating: 5

The Devil of Christmas

In a film within the episode, The Devonshires arrive at the alpine chalet for a holiday. The caretaker, Klaus, tells them about a local legend of Krampus, the Devil of Christmas. Meanwhile, the film’s director provides audio commentary.

I really like the production of this episode, with it being shot entirely on equipment from the 70s, but I have issues with the ending. The ending, and the twist, feel unceremoniously tacked onto the third act and come out of nowhere, which left me confused and unaware of how to feel.

Rating: 3

Cold Comfort

Andy takes a job at Comfort Support Line’s call center, a helpline for the lonely and desperate. Will he be able to cope with the emotional stress after he becomes the target of a stalker?

The choice of having this all shown through security cameras is fantastic, as you can watch camera-by-camera as a character does something and provides visual interest to otherwise standard framing methods. The story is also pretty good with the twist being satisfying, but it doesn’t make much sense in the context of the characters.

Rating: 3

The Riddle of the Sphinx

Nina breaks into the office of Cambridge Professor Nigel Quires, who publishes cryptic crosswords in the student newspaper as “The Sphynx”. Squires proceeds to teach Nina how to solve cryptic crosswords using the next day’s puzzle.

This is my favourite of the episodes that I watched. I’m a big fan of ‘double twists’ where a character thinks they’ve won, but they’ve actually lost everything and that happens twice in this episode.

Rating: 5

Tom and Gerri

Tom is a frustrated primary school teacher and aspiring author. One night, a homeless man named Migg returns Tom’s lost wallet, and Migg ends up living with Tom, to the frustration of Tom’s girlfriend Gerri. Tom’s life changes dramatically as a result.

This episode doesn’t stand out to me like any of the others, it’s reasonably enjoyable but didn’t leave a lasting impression.

Rating: 2

The Bill

A group of friends go out for tapas at Number Nine after a day of golfing; but tempers escalate quickly when they can’t agrees on how to settle the bill. Who will pay the ultimate price?

I’m going to be completely transparent, the bickering between the four main characters is extremely grading and I was over it ten minutes into the episode; but I’m interpreting that as fantastic writing. I also think they could have been a bit more inventive with the ‘No. 9’ element of this episode by having it take place at table nine instead of the restaurant “Number Nine”. Despite those two less than stellar elements, the final twist almost makes the thirty minutes of grading bickering worth it.

Rating: 3

La Couchette

A group of passengers in carriage nine on a train from France try to get some sleep, but the compartment quickly fills up and the possibility of sleep dwindles away. Then one of the passengers suddenly dies.

Similar to Tom and Gerri, I could take or leave this episode. It’s not that it’s particularly bad, it just isn’t particularly good or memorable. In a hypothetical situation where you can only choose five episodes of Inside No. 9, this one wouldn’t make the cut unfortunately.

Rating: 3

Once Removed

According to the Holes and Rahe Stress Scale, the three most stressful experienced in life are the death of a spouse, divorce and imprisonment. Moving house is only 32nd on the list. But anything could happen in the last ten minutes inside no 9.

I’ll be honest, most of the points for this episodes rating can be chalked up to its unique story structure where it jumps back in ten minute intervals whenever the plot catches up. Other than that, I found this episode quite standard.

Rating: 3

To Have and To Hold

When Adrian’s career as a wedding photographer starts to get in the way of his own marriage, his wife Harriet is determined to find out why.

This episode is somewhat mediocre, until the twist rears its head and then it’s all uphill from there.

Rating: 4

Bernie Clifton’s Dressing Room

It’s been 30 years since Northern double-act Len and Tommy last appeared on stage together. Then Tommy walked out on Len, and that was curtains for Cheese and Crackers. Until now – and one last gig in front of an invited audience.

This episode hits different, the entire episode (apart from maybe a minute) is just Shearsmith and Pemberton doing old, outdated skit comedy and it’s fantastic.

Rating: 4

Thinking Out Loud

Inside house no. 9, seven extremely disparate characters share their stories with a camera, their fats inevitably, inextricably, and unknowingly set for a head-on collision.

I’ll be completely honest and say that I was let down with this episode. Every time a new character was introduced I was piecing together the ways in which they could be connected to the others, only for them to all be split personalities. While I can’t comment on the accuracy of the portrayal of DID, it still felt stereotypical as a narrative device.

Rating: 3

And the Winner Is…

We join jury no. 9 of a television awards company as they decide on who is going to win the Best Actress award. But only one of the eight actresses can be chosen.

This episode was a little bit, dare I say it, uninspired? While it stars an impressive cast, it doesn��t make up for the lacklustre story. Maybe you need to know more about the industry to get it…

Rating: 2

Zanzibar

Strangely-farcical goings-on are in store for a group of unwitting guests, who have all booked adjoining rooms on the ninth floor of the Zanzibar hotel in London. This episode’s dialogue is written entirely in iambic pentameter.

On top of all taking place in a single hallway, this episode has another gimmick in that it is all performed in iambic pentameter which adds a unique charm to an otherwise unimpressive story.

Rating: 4

The Harrowing

In this horror comedy with a grim twist, a teenage girl is hired to housesit a gothic mansion, but it appears that there are scary things going on inside no 9.

I’ll give them this much, they tried something different. Did it work out? Not for me. Though Shearsmith singing Lord of the Dance flung me back into catholic school mass…

Rating: 2

Sardines

Rebecca and Jeremy hold their engagement party as Rebecca’s family mansion. The guests play a game of sardines, and as Rebecca’s friends and family are packed into a wardrobe, secrets are gradually revealed, leading to a dark and sinister discovery.

Like the 12 Days of Christine, I cheated slightly with this episode. This was the first episode I ever watched of Inside No. 9 and is the whole reason I am reviewing the show. This was my third time watching the episode, and it’s still just as good as the first two.

Rating: 5

(Bonus Episode) Dead Line

When Arthur finds an old mobile phone in his local graveyard, he makes the mistake of trying to contact the owner. But some mysteries are best left unsolved, and as Halloween draws near Arthur is plunged into a nightmare of his own making.

The plot description above isn’t exactly what the episode entails, because this is the live broadcast Halloween special from 2018 where they faked the whole thing going wrong. While it doesn’t have the same effect watching it on a laptop two years after the fact, if you can put that aside and fully immerse yourself into believing what they want you to, it’s still amazing.

Rating: 5

Did I like it? Most of the episodes, yes.

Will I continue watching? God yes, thank god it’s been renewed for two more seasons…

#The TV Show Trials #Inside No 9

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Roguish Women Part 8

Summary: Kate Rosseau is an American who fled to Paris to escape her past life. Now she's dancing and playing the part of a courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. There she meets Tommy Shelby who thinks she can be useful in expanding his empire. But has he been blinded?

Part 7: Black Star Day arrives

Grace and Tommy were serving beers while the Peaky Blinders chatted. A nervous energy filled the air. Everyone knew that they were walking into another battle. Striding into uncertainty. There was no guaranteed any of them would make it out of the standoff alive.

Kate went to sit at the bar beside Arthur. “Where do you boys want me to stand?”

“Best stay here with Grace. Polly’ll be at the betting shop holding down the fort.” The eldest Shelby responded.

“And I’ll be safe here?”

“Kimber’s men ain’t taking a step past us.” Arthur proclaimed confidently and nudged John who nodded in agreement.

But the mood in the pub changed in an instant when Jerimiah strode in and whispered something in Arthur’s ear.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Arthur groaned and stood up. He walked behind the bar with Jerimiah and walked to the backroom where Tommy and Grace had disappeared to moments earlier.

Kate couldn’t hear what they were speaking about but the look on Tommy’s face when he emerged was clear enough. Something was wrong.

“Kate, get up, follow me.” He ordered.

“What’s going on?” She stood up but hesitated.

“Right, let’s get a move on!” Arthur’s voice boomed over the mirth in the bar.

Tommy grabbed Kate by the arm and pulled her towards the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t answer any questions Kate asked on the way to Polly’s flat. He simply moved quickly, urging her along. Polly was already upstairs with Ada and the baby when Tommy stormed inside.

“Ada, c’mon. Go with Kate, get to the Bull Ring where there’s lots of people.” He spoke firmly almost to try and eliminate any need for questions.

Polly, however, wouldn’t do anything without an explanation. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been fucking betrayed.” Tommy paced about the room like a trapped hornet. “Someone let it slip to Kimber. They’re on their way here and we’re outnumbered.”

Ada scooped up Karl, her eyes met Kate who was finding it hard to move a muscle. Kate expected to see fear on her face, but instead, she seemed to be thinking something over.

“Who else knew today was the day you were moving in on Kimber?” Polly questioned.

There was a pause in the room. Tommy stared into the hearth where a small fire was blazing. Realization settled over his face. The horror of his discovery was enough to make Polly’s lips part in disappointment.

It hit Kate when she least expected it. “Grace told me.” She said before she could stop herself. Polly turned to look at her. “She said you were going after Billy Kimber, just moments before you all came into the Garrison today.” Kate’s stomach wrung into knots. How could Grace betray Tommy and the rest of the family? She assumed the barmaid was close to the family, close enough to care about their wellbeing. She liked to think she had a read on people who were deceptive. But she never expected such a move from Grace. Maybe she’d underestimated Birmingham.

Polly’s jaw set with resolution. “I’ll deal with her.” She said to her nephew.

Tommy regained some composure and nodded curtly. He looked to Kate, wondering what the consequences were if he trusted another outsider. But there was no time. “Take Ada to the Bull Ring, stay where it’s crowded the most. Make sure people see you.”

“Could you help me with his pram?” Ada asked quietly, ushering Kate to the door.

Kate nodded; a bit dazed. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy and Polly left the flat as Kate and Ada were getting Karl settled in the carriage. Neither of them spoke a word to the women, both of them heading right into a confrontation. Both of which had the possibility of being fatal.

Once they disappeared around the corner, Kate glanced both ways down the street. “Which way to the Bull Ring? I think I’ve gotten a bit turned around.”

“We’re not going to the Bull Ring,” Ada replied, tucking the blankets snug around her baby boy.

“But Tommy said-”

“Fuck what Tommy said. I’m not going to stand around waiting to hear if my husband’s dead or not.” Ada made up her mind and began pushing the pram towards Garrison Lane.

“Ada…” Kate felt like her feet were cemented to the ground with her options. She could let Tommy’s sister do as she pleased while she headed for safety. It risked the backlash from Tommy who Kate knew didn’t like when people didn’t listen. Or she could follow Ada into an uncertain fate. There didn’t seem to be an option of talking Ada out of her decision. If she was anything like her brothers, she stuck to her guns.

Kate sighed under her breath, made sure her pistol was loaded in her purse and jogged to catch up to Ada. She could only hope these men weren’t crazy enough to shoot around a mother and child.

~~~~~~~~~~

Men in heavy coats stood shoulder to shoulder. Facing off like soldiers in the war.

“Oh, dear God,” Kate whispered under her breath.

“Move!” Ada snapped, fearlessly shoving men aside, making her way into the center of the standoff.

Kate was sure she looked just as horrified as the Peaky Blinders. She stood near Ada and slipped her hand into her purse. She scanned over the group of men and locked eyes with Tommy.

“Ada!” Freddie looked incredulous. Certainly, this was the last thing he expected, showing up to a standoff only to have his wife and son interrupt.

“Shut up!” Ada replied.

“Have you lost your mind?”

“I said shut up!” She shouted. “I’m wearing black in preparation.” The young woman removed her hat and stood down her husband. “I want you to look at me.”

Kate held a finger over the trigger of her gun hidden in her purse. Ada’s words slipped away; the situation was too tense to listen to her. Kate’s eyes moved from Tommy to the other side where Billy Kimber stood looking a bit dumbfounded. She waited, watched for any sudden movement. She didn’t plan on killing anyone when she woke up that morning but plans changed.

“She’s right you know.” Billy Kimber’s voice, horrifyingly familiar to Kate, piped up. “Why should all you men die?” There was no time to question why Kimber was been so blasé. “It should just be them who’ve caused it.” Before he finished, his gun was raised and a shot rang out through the street.

Kate nearly dropped to her knees simply by instinct. But a protective sense kicked in. She grabbed Ada and shielded her so she could push the pram out of the line of fire. Another shot fired and Kate looked back. She saw one of the Blinders fall. Tommy had stumbled back, his hand pressed to his chest. When he lifted his hand, Kate saw blood.

“Tommy!” She ran towards him. He raised his head, then his gun. He pushed Kate aside and fired the last shot into Billy Kimber’s head.

As Danny’s body was being dragged away, Kate and Arthur each grabbed a hold of Tommy’s arms.

“To the Garrison. Bring ‘im to the Garrison.” Arthur told her.

~~~~~~~~~~

They got Tommy into the pub and into a chair. He was swaying slightly.

“Get his shirt off,” Arthur ordered Kate as he went behind the bar to get a bottle of whiskey.

“Just hang on,” Kate said quietly to Tommy and crouched down in front of him. She wrestled off his coat and began to unbutton his shirt, ignoring the blood seeping through the material.

Jeremiah hurried into the Garrison and examined the bullet lodged in Tommy’s chest. He doused a knife in the whiskey that Arthur brought over. “Alright, hold him down.”

Kate looked to the eldest Shelby who nodded. They both grabbed one of Tommy’s arm. She knelt down beside the chair and braced herself.

As Jeremiah began to try and dislodge the bullet, Tommy jerked back. Kate did her best to hold her own against him, not realizing how strong he actually was. Without Arthur there, there would’ve been no chance she’d have been able to keep him still.

A few agonizing shouts of pain later, Jeremiah removed the bullet and held it up triumphantly. “I’ve still got the knack.”

Kate released her hold on Tommy and stood up. She took a few deep breaths and ran a hand through her hair. The day’s events hadn’t been easy on her. For one thing, she didn't expect to be drawn into the Shelbys’ chaos. But she also didn’t expect the strong feelings she had for people around her. The disbelief when she realized Grace, who she considered a friend, had betrayed Tommy. How Kate was willing to kill to protect Ada and Karl. The fear she felt when she saw the blood on Tommy’s hands.

It was difficult to swallow. Emotional connections brought her nothing but trouble. She didn’t anticipate it and now that she realized it, it almost felt too late to undo.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kate was all too happy to get drunk and the boys at the Garrison gave her the perfect opportunity. After Danny’s body was loaded out in the truck, the rest of the gang took advantage of the pub’s well-stocked liquor shelves.

“Then what’s next for you then, America? Aye?” John asked, jostling Kate by the shoulders.

She giggled and shook him off. “I dunno, why don’t you ask your brother.”

“Which one?” He slurred and tipped forward in his bar stool.

“Tommy.” Kate sighed and finished her vodka. “If he wants my advice on the American gangs, I’ll be here. But I’m afraid I’ve got more than a few people who’d like to interrupt that.” Once the frenzy and violence of the day had worn off, she couldn’t help but let Santo’s letter resurface in her brain.

“Pft, who’s gonna hurt you, huh, who’s gonna hurt you when you’re protected by the Peaky Fucking Blinders?” John crowed.

The rest of the pub cheered along with him.

Kate laughed and accepted another drink but her smile faded quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the night wore on and men staggered out of the pub and left just Kate, Arthur, John and Polly.

Kate was laid back in one of the booths across from John and Arthur. She drunkenly regaled them with a tale of seducing an Austrian duke and swindling him out of a good sum of his inheritance.

“That’s what you’re tryna do to Tommy then?” Arthur joked.

She snorted. “Tommy’s not stupid. I like stupid men, they’re easy to take from.”

John and Arthur laughed. “Cheers, love, cheers.” The oldest raised his glass to her.

The door to the bar opened and Tommy walked in. Kate propped herself up on her elbows to watch him go in and talk to Polly. She was a bit too drunk to follow their conversation.

But his voice got easier to hear as he walked over with a bottle of champagne. “Shelby Brothers Limited are now the third-largest, legal race track operation in the country.” He clinked the bottle to each of his brother’s glasses. “Only the Sabinis and the Solomons are bigger than us, boys.”

“Who are they? The Sabinis and the Solomons?” Kate wondered and pushed her empty glass toward Tommy.

He popped the cork of the champagne and poured some for her.

“The Solomons, Alfie Solomons.” Arthur drawled on. “The Jews in Camden Town. ‘N Sabini. They’re Italians.”

Even in her alcohol-fueled haze, Kate bristled. “Fuck.” She muttered under her breath and glanced up at Tommy.

“Third largest operation, Kate.” He said to her. “No one’s going to fucking mess with us now.” He offered a hand to her. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy escorted Kate down the darkened streets of Small Heath, her arm over his. Only to keep her steady on her feet.

“You weren’t there celebrating with us. Are we not fun to you?” She stuck out her lower lip. “I beat John in a drinking contest, you weren’t even there to cheer me on.”

Tommy chuckled. “I’m sure you’re plenty of fun. Americans know how to party don’t they?”

“When you know the right speakeasy.” She agreed. “Where were you?”

“Settling business.”

“You went to see Grace, didn’t you?”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. Even drunk, she was perceptive. “Perhaps.”

“Hm…you love her still. Ooh, oh fuck.” She stumbled a bit on the curb but he held her upright. “Thank you. So, where’s she going to go now? I imagine she can't stay anywhere near here after what she's done."

“It’s not important.”

“Ha, bullshit.” She replied with an eye-roll. “S’important to you.”

Tommy walked her up to her front stoop, making sure she didn’t faceplant up the steps. “You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“I wasn’t ever worried about her. I was worried about you.” Kate opened up her purse and fumbled around for her key.

“Me?” Tommy took another drink of the champagne bottle still in his hand.

“Men like you don’t fall in love easily. But when you-oh Christ, where is that fucking thing-when you do fall in love you tend to be blinded by it.” Kate finally retrieved her key.

“So, what do you reckon I ought to do?” He asked. "Seems you've got the answers."

She tried the lock a few times but couldn’t seem to get the key in the keyhole. “I like Grace. She’s smart. Reminds me a bit of myself, but she loves the same way you do. Blindly.”

Tommy took the key from her and opened the door of her flat. “So, what, you manipulate men? Learn their secrets? Betray them?”

Kate shrugged. “I don’t fall in love with the men I do it to, though. That’s the difference between Grace and I. Goodnight, Tommy.” She stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434

Masterlist

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #john shelby #arthur shelby #polly gray #grace burgess #tommy x grace #ofc #oc

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twdeadlysins · 5 years

Text

Together

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 3,981

Summary: The reader goes on a solo run and claims it’s important and it’ll be quick, that she’ll be back before lunch. When dinner rolls around, Daryl starts to worry and think of the worse, so he sets out to find his missing girlfriend with Rick and Glenn.

Request: Requested by @leej2468 -> 6. “I almost lost you” - The reader (M/F) gets seriously injured and they haven't woken up yet. Daryl stays by their side, worried if they'll ever wake. When they finally do, he's relieved and hugs them and says #6 and cries. --- I hope you like it! Thank you so much for the request!

Warnings: Daryl’s POV, fluff, angst, then more fluff, established relationship, the usual walking dead violence, language, blood, and such with possible typos

Author’s Note: Another Daryl one-shot in the books, hella ya! I hope @leej2468 and everyone else who reads this likes it!! I have plenty more requests where that came from!

If you want to be tagged/removed for my Daryl Dixon fics, then don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message, or leave a comment! The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer, so um don’t attack pls. Any feedback is much appreciated! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

MASTERLIST

Daryl grumbled when he felt movement in the bed and forced his eyes apart once he heard the most angelic sound, Y/N’s laugh. She apologized for waking him up and started to run her fingers through his hair, making him nuzzle into her chest and tighten his grip around her. Y/N let out a content sigh and leaned her head on top of his, he wished the two of you could stay like this forever and it was like she read his mind.

“I wish we could stay in bed all day, but we have things to do,” she softly reminded, gently rubbing the archer’s forearm before weaving herself out of his grasp. Daryl groaned missing her warmth already as he propped his arm up so he can rest his head in his palm to watch as Y/N got herself dressed. The hunter’s mouth quirked up watching her hop on each foot trying to wiggle her way into her dark skinny jeans. ‘Till this day, he still didn’t know how or why Y/N was with him.

Daryl met Y/N at Hershel’s farm, she wasn’t a Greene, but she may as well be considering how close she was with them. She was one of their neighbors and sought them out when things went south at her house, leaving her the only survivor. Y/N was a skillful person and an all around badass, knowing how to fight, shoot, hunt, track and even mechanics… everything that Daryl knew as well. When his bike needing a fix, she offered to help in anyway she could, but was mindful that he knew what to do. Everyone in the past was always trying to one up him, show them they better than him, or belittle him, but she wasn’t everyone.

Daryl had walked in with a heap of sticks and a log or two in his hands, going to throw them in the fireplace. The farm had been swarmed with walkers months ago and the group couldn’t find a permanent place to stay, so they had to hop from place to place and it was dreadful especially knowing there was going to be an addition to the group soon with Lori pregnant.

After the archer tossed and lit the flames with his lighter, everyone huddled around the fireplace except Rick and Y/N. Rick had a scowl expression on his face as he leaned back on the wall with his arms crossed staring at the back of his wife’s head. Y/N, on the other hand, looked exhausted holding her jacket tight around her frame as she sat against the wall with her knees tucked in her chest. Daryl made his way over and sat next to her, but she didn’t react, not noticing since she was still staring off into space. He was hesitant at first, but ultimately moved some hair out of her face, making her move away slightly and look at him in bewilderment. Her eyes were slightly red and they were tired looking, he knew she wasn’t sleeping even when she wasn’t on watch duty and it made him sad to see her like that.

“Y/N, go get warm by the fire,” his voice rasped in a whisper, but she shook her head and brought her hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, brushing his hand slightly in the process. “They need it more than me,” she muttered, glancing over at Carl and the corner of her mouth twitched up at the sight of him cuddling with his mother.

Without saying another word, knowing she was stubborn, Daryl wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her flush against his side. She didn’t show any sign of rejection as she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on chest and despite their bodies warming each other, his heart was warm as well.Carol had peeked over and grinned, giving Daryl a teasing look since she knew he liked Y/N and he just rolled his eyes at the woman as she went to lay down.

The fire was slowly dying down and everyone was asleep except Rick, who was keeping watch and the younger Dixon, who was rubbing circles on Y/N’s waist. “Do you think Rick and Lori will be okay?” she questioned and it surprised him since he thought she had finally fallen asleep.

“I don’ know. Hope so for the sake of the kids,” he mumbled, not feeding her a lie to make her feel better and she always respected that, so she had vowed to do the same. Y/N reluctantly pulled away and stared at him with tearful eyes that shattered his heart. “I’m tired, Daryl.”

“Come here, I’ll keep ya safe,” he said, motioning for her to lay down in his arms, but she shook her head, making him furrow his brows. “No, I’m tired of running around. God, I feel so selfish and dumb for saying that because I know everyone here is tired too, but-” she deeply exhaled and shrugged, blinking off to the side to prevent her tears from escaping. “I don’t know.”

“Aye,” Daryl softly called, rubbing her cheek when a tear streamed down her face. “Yer not bein’ selfish. Ya let ever’one take most of ya rations, ya stay up all nigh’ ta keep watch ‘n ya don’ take it out on anyone. Yer the mos’ selfless person here, Y/N.”

She chuckled through her tears and lifted her hand to cradle his that was still holding her face. “I’m here for ya, Y/N and we’ll get through this together, okay?” She nodded and situated herself back into his arms, clutching his hand before lifting her head to peer at him. Before Daryl could process where her eyes flickered, her lips were on his, her other hand cupping his cheek and he wasted no time in doing the same even with his mind all fuzzy. Daryl was still in a daze when she withdrew especially when she smiled back at him. “I’ve been wanting to do that since we fixed your bike.”

“Earth to Dixon!”

Daryl blinked a couple times before glancing up at his girlfriend that was now all dressed for the day. She had her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes, walking towards the bed. “Come on, I’m not leaving this room without you,” she said, grabbing Daryl’s hands and lifting him out of bed before getting his clothes. After he kept stalling with kisses and holding her hostage, she helped him put his final piece of clothing on, his winged vest that they both loved, and grabbed his hand to lead him out of their shared cell.

With the Woodbury people now occupying the prison it helped a lot, but that didn’t mean Daryl and Y/N could stop doing their jobs. Y/N pecked Daryl’s lips and informed him that she had to go talk to Rick about something, so once she left, he went to tune up his bike since he’d have to go on a run soon. An hour or so went by and he noticed Rick, Carol, and Y/N talking near the gate with her motorcycle which confused the archer, so he dropped his tools and hurried down there.

Y/N tore her orbs off of Rick and her eyes light up when they connected to Daryl’s. “I was just about to come find you!”

“What’s this?” He questioned, pointing his finger towards her bike, not understanding what’d she need it for.

“She’s going on a run,” Rick answered for her and that made Daryl snap his head to glare at him. “I’m goin’ on a run in the next day or so, can it wait?” the hunter inquired. Their best friend looked at Y/N and she gave him a look which made Rick peer at his feet before shaking his head at Daryl. “Well, then I’m goin’ too.”

Y/N was quick to refuse and that made him even more confused. “It’s a solo run and it’s important. It’ll be quick, in and out, so I see no need in the both of us going,” she reasoned, but Daryl thought it would be safer if they both went. “Baby,” she softly said, going up to him and placing her palms on his face, stroking her thumbs. “It’s a quick run, I’ll be back before lunch. I can take care of myself plus Carol has a job for you anyways.”

He glanced over at the two of his best friends and they smiled and nodded, so he sighed and agreed leading Y/N to kiss his face all over and repeatedly thank him. “I love you!”

“Yeah, yeah, I love ya too.” Daryl playfully rolled his eyes, earning a wack in the chest before hearing a chuckle erupt from her lips. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned in for a kiss before she tossed her leg over her bike.

“Ya be safe, ya hear!”

She twisted her body and waved before revving the bike and riding off to her unknown destination. Daryl watched as she disappeared and he couldn’t shake the ill feeling he had about it all. Rick patted his shoulder saying she’d be alright as he walked off to leave Carol to get him to work.

Daryl had already finished Carol’s task and even knocked out his bike to get his worried mind off of how long Y/N was gone. The sun was already starting to set and she had pleaded it would be quick, either she was lying or something was wrong… but she wouldn’t lie to him- would she?

The archer asked around for Rick and once he found him near one of their vehicles, he looked as worried as he did. “Daryl, Glenn and I are going to go see what’s taking Y/N so long, let’s go.”

Daryl was antsy, bobbing his leg up and down while chewing on his thumbnail as Rick sped down the road until he realized something. “Wait, yer meanin’ ta tell me ya knew where Y/N’s been this entire time?” he angrily questioned, earning a sideways glance from the deputy before he eyed the road, tightening his jaw as he accelerated. Daryl huffed and turned his head around to look at Glenn. “Ya too?” Glenn tore his orbs off of the hunter and looked at the ground giving Daryl the answer he was looking for.

Rick parked the car on the side of the street where a great deal of stores were located and Daryl made a mental note to come back here at a later date. Once the three of them exited the vehicle, they approached a shopping center that consisted of grocery store, a hair salon, a jewelry store, and a pharmacy. Y/N’s bike was parked in front of the drug store which led Daryl to approach the place, but Rick said that she wouldn’t be in there as he headed towards the jewelry store… why would she go there? Daryl chose not to question it, his priority was finding Y/N.

Rick withdrew his revolver, so Glenn wielded out his glock and Daryl handled his crossbow on alert for anything suspicious. The hunter meticulously maneuvered his way around the broken glass that was scattered across the floor, careful not to make a peep. After scanning the area and all the rooms within it, they came up empty and Daryl became even more frustrated and worried. Before the archer could lash and wreck things, they heard a loud crash that sounded like it came from the next building over. “Didn’t Y/N say she would scout out for supplies after she was done here if she had time?” Glenn inquired to Rick since Daryl knew jack shit why she wanted to go on a solo run in the first place.

Daryl bolted out the jewelry store to race into the grocery store, but he softened his footsteps and opened the entrance quietly when Rick and Glenn were right behind him. The men were crouched and could hear multiple voices, so Rick signaled for Glenn to go left, Daryl to go right while he went down the middle. As Daryl grew closer to the commotion he could make out three male voices along with a female’s… Y/N.

“Where’s your camp?” A gruff voice demanded followed with a thump mixed with grunts. Y/N coughed and told him to go straight to hell before he heard her yelp and his blood boiled knowing they were hurting her let alone touching her. Daryl peeked through a couple of can goods on a shelf and saw that one man was roughly holding her hair, forcing her stand up whereas the other two were in front of her, one holding a bat and the other a gun. Y/N’s lip was busted, one eye was severely bruised, and he couldn’t even imagine what else was underneath her clothes. He couldn’t get a clear shot of them, not without revealing himself and that wouldn’t be good, so Daryl decided to give Rick and Glenn some more time to get there since it was a pretty big marketplace.

“Now I’m gonna ask you again, where’s your camp?”

Y/N gripped the man’s hands that held her hair and spat blood on the floor next to her. “And I’m gonna tell you again. Go. To. Hell.” Before Daryl could make out what the man was gonna do next, he, without hesitation, fired a single bullet into her knee making her scream and drop, clutching her leg while she bit her lip and hummed out in pain. Daryl sprinted in action and struck the guy that held the bat in the back of the head with his bolt as Rick and Glenn came out and shot three body shots into the other. Within that span of time, the guy who shot Y/N had her back flush against his chest and held the gun to the side of her temple.

“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll pull this damn trigger!” he shouted, veins popping out of his face and neck making Daryl scared that he’d pull it anyways. Y/N had his forearm that was around her neck in her grasp trying her best to support her weight so she could stand. While Rick tried to reason with him, Daryl coldly stared at the man behind the sight of his crossbow, ready to release his arrow into his skull when he had a clear shot. The archer tore his orbs off of him for a second to look at Y/N and his glare softened, she was staring back at him with love and distress. She mouthed that she loved him before tearing his arm away from her neck and headbutted her attacker, he instinctively grabbed his nose in pain and Y/N managed to yank her spare knife out of her boot and sliced the guy’s throat. Daryl dropped his crossbow and sprinted to aid his girlfriend, but he froze when a shot rang out. The guy had enough strength in him to fire another bullet before going limp on the ground.

Y/N staggered back and clutched her abdomen as she peered down to see blood seeping between her fingers. She tearfully looked back at and over to Daryl in shock before falling back, but he was able to catch her before she hit the ground. “No, no, no!”

Daryl was trying his best to hold his tears as he was desperately trying to cover her wound with his hands. Y/N placed her palms on top of his making him grab onto her hand and shout for Rick or Glenn to get him something to stop the bleeding. “Yer gonna be okay, baby, ya hear me?”

Rick knelt down and instructed Daryl to carry her to the backseat of the car, so the hunter lifted her up bridal style, doing his best not to cause her anymore pain while Rick helped him by opening up the doors that got in the way. When they got to the vehicle, Daryl laid Y/N down and settled her head onto his lap, Rick hopped in the driver’s seat and started the engine as Glenn was running to the car with towels. He tossed the fabrics at Daryl and the car took off before he could place them over Y/N’s bullet wound. “Stay with me, Y/N,” Daryl ordered with desperation as he tapped her cheek when he saw her eyes flutter.

“I’m tired, Dare,” she whispered, going to shut her eyes once more, but he didn’t let her… afraid she would fall asleep and never wake up. He couldn’t lose another person he loved, not her, he couldn’t lose her.

“Aye, remember that nigh’ in that cabin? When ya said that ta me and I told ya I’d always be there for ya and we’d get through it together?” She hummed, placing her hand on top of his that was caressing her cheek and leaned into his touch. “I meant that for the rest of our lives, so don’ go quittin’ on me. I need ya,” he sobbed, rubbing her hair before kissing her forehead and asking how long until they would arrive at the prison.

Daryl was anxiously waiting for any news along with the rest of their family on Y/N’s condition. He had sprinted out the car and up the terrain crying out for Hershel to save her. He didn’t have the energy to fight, to ask why she went out there in the first place, and why everyone let her… he didn’t even know why he let her. He just wanted to be there, to be with her, but he was instructed to leave the room and he hated having to wait, hated not being able to hold her hand. Rick did his best to comfort him- rubbed his shoulder, said she was a tough sonuvabitch and she would fight, she wouldn’t leave him. Daryl knew she would fight, but he also knew there was only so much she could take… he just didn’t want her to be in pain and if that meant for her to go someplace else- a place that wasn’t here, then he’d have to come to terms with that eventually.

“I should’ve went with her,” Rick spoke up, rubbing his face with regret. “She’s stubborn and turned everyone downed who offered- she just wanted to do it alone, Daryl. It wasn’t you- trust me, you’ll understand why she didn’t want you coming along.”

Daryl rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as he leaned his forehead on them, closing his eyes and praying to whoever not to take her from him. The door finally opened and Daryl lolled his head to the side with droopy, tired eyes waiting for the doctor to say anything. “It was a pain, but she was not ready to let go… she’s okay,” Hershel announced with a smile before Beth attacked her father with a hug.

The archer began to weep in relief, shoulders moving up and down as he covered his face with his hands. Glenn and Maggie embraced each other as they cried, Rick sighed with a smile and patted his brother’s back, Carol grinned through her tears and hugged Carl, Michonne was elated, everyone was relieved. Hershel told Daryl he could go in the room, that Y/N should wake up soon… he just didn’t know when.

When he entered the room, he inhaled a sharp breath seeing her beaten unconscious body laying in the bed with an IV sticking out of her arm along with bandages covering her form. Daryl carefully scooted a chair up to her bed as if he’d wake her, sat down, and held her hand to wait for her to come to. Rick, Maggie, Glenn, Carol, and Hershel each came in throughout the day to check on them both. Carol tried to get Daryl to get some sleep, but he refused, not wanting to leave and have her wake up without him there. She decided not to pick a fight with him and brought him dinner since he hadn’t eaten for the last two days.

He felt someone stroking his hair and he slowly lifted his head to see Y/N smiling at him, he must’ve fallen asleep since the light from outside was beaming in. Daryl jumped and smothered Y/N in a hug and began to cry. She tried instantly wrapped her arms around his torso, not caring if it hurt and tried to shush him, that everything was okay even as her own tears spilled.

He pulled back with a look of regret as he surveyed her form, afraid he had caused her pain, but she smiled and grabbed his hand to assure him he did anything but. Daryl plopped back in the chair and held her hand in both of his, staring at them with watery eyes before looking back at her. “I almost lost ya,” he whimpered and her heart visibly shattered.

“I’m sorry-”

“I shoulda never let ya go alone, why’d ya go there ‘n the first place? He sadly more than angrily questioned, he didn’t mean to get after her especially after she almost died, but he had to know. She was close to dying because of this run, so what was it for?

“I-” She scanned around the room, and locked on a chair with her clothes on it before pointing at it. “Could you get me my pants, please?” Daryl gave her a puzzled look, but didn’t question it as he did what she asked. Y/N patted each pocket trying to find which one contained what she searching for and once she found it, she revealed two banded rings. One had diamonds littered around it and the other was just a silver band, it was so simple yet so beautiful.

Y/N smiled wide and stared at the two pieces of jewelry in her hand, rubbing them with her thumb. “I was a kid when my parents went to that very same jewelry store for something. I don’t know what for, but I remembered seeing these rings and falling in love with them. If I ever found someone that loved me for me and knew that I could spend the rest of my life with, then I imagined, no, I wanted these rings to be ours… and that’s you, Daryl. I had to get them, it meant a lot to me and… it gave me hope that I’d find someone to eventually give this ring to.” She bit her lip as she smiled and shrugged her shoulders before looking at him with hope. “So Daryl Dixon, will you marry me?”

Daryl tried his best to answer, but he ended up choking on his words every time. He nodded his head since he couldn’t form words and Y/N’s smile went even wider as she went to slide the band on his finger and gave him hers so he could do the same. They embraced each other and when Y/N went to pull away, Daryl captured her lips with his. “Mhmm- does this mean we’re husband and wife instantly since the world ended?”

The archer hummed to think about it and shrugged his shoulders as he smiled. “That’s up ta ya. Do ya want a ceremony?” Y/N brushed the loose strands of hair out of his face and caressed his cheek. “Everyone knows how much we love each other- we know how much we love each other, so shall we tell them the news, Mr. Dixon?” She teased, earning a chuckle from her husband.

“I think we should, Mrs. Dixon.”

_____________________________________

MASTERLIST

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ttylbabezzz · 4 years

Text

Broken Part 2 Bones x reader

Warnings!!! Trigger!! Self injury, eating disorder!!

Bones

Bones had lost all hope in love and women after his messy divorce with his ex wife. She bled him dry and then some. He had nothing left not even his daughter. The day that almost all of start fleet was flung into action against some klingons was the day he first noticed her. He noticed the colour of her hair, the way she carried herself, and how undeniably smart y/n was. For a year he found himself engrossed in her, watching from afar as she communicated with people from various planets they were visiting and exploring. Her ability to somehow always smile. But after a while he noticed her smile fade and her eyes lose their shreds of happiness he had come to enjoy so much. It spiralled after that, he noticed the long sleeves she ALWAYS seemed to wear even if the heat was above what it normally was to match the seasons on earth, warmer in summer and colder in winter. But the long sleeves never seemed to leave her gorgeous body. It was lunch, He and jim had grabbed their plates when y/n came up in conversation. Jim has always been small minded, believed that women had to look, dress and act a certain way but the southerner, he was the exact opposite. He enjoyed the woman and how she looked. She was the healthiest out of all of them in the captains control room healthier even than jim was himself. “I worry about her bones, I mean it can’t be healthy for her to be that large. A little weight loss wouldn’t hurt anyone.” The captain spoke without consideration. Bones knuckles clenched around his tray as he clenched his jaw to keep from saying something to his best friend. “I mean really, she would be completely gorgeous if she wasn’t so fat.” Jim said next. Bones hands collided with the table angrily as they sat down “damn it Jim do you ever shut up? You’re forgetting, I’m CMO, I decide who’s healthy and who isn’t and y/n is certainly more healthy than even you. I mean come on have you ever seen her eat anything unhealthy?” He said harshly through his clenched teeth. He watched as her figure retreated with a bottle of water soon after. It was odd for her, she usually never skipped a meal. He knew because they sat together every day. Regardless of her weight she was still one of Jim’s best friends so why he all of a sudden was going after her behind her back was beyond him.

It seemed like after that day, everything had changed. Bones noticed how she slowly started telling everyone she wasn’t hungry or how she already ate. Every week there was a new excuse. A couple of months had passed when Jim had confronted him excitedly telling him how he had seen y/n in the gym every day for the last month. As he described how she had sweat pouring off of her every time jim was there and how exhausted she looked as she kept on while jim left. That was when his curiosity got the better of him. He asked for a few favours and soon he was keeping tabs on how long she was at the gym every day, Saying it was for his logs on everyone he asked for Jim’s hours too. Another couple of months passed and he watched as the beautiful woman he had grown feelings for rarely cracked a smile or talked anymore. He noticed how she barely even talked to him anymore and both of them had expressed how they thought of each other like siblings not 5 months prior.

As time passed bones just couldn’t fit the pieces together on what was happening to the woman everyone loved. Then, she was brought in for a case of dehydration. He took log of her weight, noticing that the 50 pounds she lost putting her at 210 pounds wasn’t possible if she was doing this in a healthy way. Not in such little time anyways. “Y/n l/n, it’s been some time since you were in here last. It looks like you’re suffering from dehydration, we’ll give you some fluids and bring you some food, you’ll be here for a few hours. I’ll have it cleared with Jim.” The CMO spike as he studied her face. At the nation of the word food he noticed a tinge of uncomfortableness in her body. Her muscles tensed up at the word. He had the food brought to her and checked on her every hour as he noticed the food looked like it was being eaten he was content. That was until she left and he heard the nurse muttering about the waste. “What waste?” He asked walking over “y/n, she didn’t eat a single bit of this by the looks at it, just tore it off and threw it out.” She said shaking her head as she changed the garbage. His fists clenched as he sighed returning to his desk.

He watched as her skin paled and her eyes sunk in and how in their form fitting uniforms her ribs stuck out in an unhealthy manner. She looked almost dead with the dark circles she wore everyday and the pale skin. He was getting more worried by the day. Then, the call came in. “Bones, emergency medical help requested in the command room, Jim said its urgent, y/n is unconscious.” The nurse spoke urgently as she ran over with their kits and a gurney. Time seemed to slow as he quite literally dropped everything and ran. When he saw her he felt his breath hitch in his throat and he froze. “Dr. McCoy, her hearts barely beating.” Uhura said with tears running down her face at the state of her friend. He kicked in to overdrive as they ran her back to med bay. “She’s coding!” The nurse yelled “charge the defibrillator to 300! CLEAR!” He yelled as he pressed the cold metal to her chest. He watched as her heart slowly started beating again “give her lots of fluids and give her a bag of blood for transfusion. She’s severely dehydrated and malnourished. Clear my schedule to the other doctors, I’m not leaving her side.” He spoke with authority as everyone bustled around him “god damn it woman. What have you done to yourself.” He says angrily as the nurses gasp he turns around. Her arms were littered with scars and cuts. There wasn’t a section of her pale slim arms that didn’t have either a fresh scar or a fresh cut. “Leonard! How is she?!” Jim said running in with tears in his eyes. As their eyes connected after bones took on the sight he heard a broken cry leave his best friends lips. “How did we not notice this? How did you not notice this damn it you’re the god damn CMO McCoy!” Jim said angrily “not the time for this conversation. Out. NOW!” bones yelled as he turned to wipe a stray tear before anyone could notice. Jim was right. How didn’t he notice. All the signs were there and never once did he put the pieces together and now his beautiful Mariah was practically dead in front of them. He worked tirelessly for hours, changing her fluids, running tests to make sure the blood transfusion was going smoothly and soon she wasn’t as dead looking as she was before. When everything was fine he sat down and let his eyes close for a while with a heavy heart. Jim was leaned up against the wall as he noticed how hard the doctor was taking all of this. Bones was in love with her and everyone except for the two of them could piece that together. He knew he shouldn’t have said what he did as he watched the doctor grip his best friends hand like she was going to slip away at any moment.

How had they let it get to this? It was a question that nobody held the answer to. But more importantly for bones, how had he let the woman he had grown to completely and utterly love get here? But now, they had to fix it. He had to get the love of his life back to how she was, happy, and healthy. No matter what.

Y/n

I woke up with the biggest headache I’d had in, well forever. The beeping of whatever it was only made it worse as I groaned and grabbed my head. Pulling my hand from whatever it was underneath I felt the cool air hit my bare arms and I instantly panicked. My eyes opened fast and I groaned again at the bright light noticing the whispers for the first time “anyone got any sunglasses..” I said in a gravelly voice. “No sunglasses, just questions.” I heard as I opened my eyes once more and looked around. I was in the med bay. The memory hit me like a train and I subconsciously sat up and pulled my knees to my chest as bones crossed his arms from where he sat having just woken up. “I don’t know why.” I say as I hang my head low. “ you know exactly why.” He says sternly as I bite my nails. “Why didn’t you come to us?” Jim asks with tears in his eyes. My eyebrows furrow angrily as I snap my head up to look at him “what the hell do you mean why jimmy? You’re the one who said I was too fat and unhealthy. Why are you all of a sudden so concerned?” I state crossing my arms. His face drops “you heard that...” he says looking down and I nod “yeah jim I did.” “It wasn’t what you think, okay? I was trying to prove something to uhura and saying that was the only way to prove the point.” He says looking at me pleading “what kind of a point calls for you to talk about me like that? You’re like family to me you a*shole.” I say glaring at him “uhura wasn’t as convinced as I was and I needed to get a reaction out of bones by talking about you. It was the only way to prove how he felt about you. She was on the fence about it and as soon as I did that and he reacted the case was closed. I’m sorry.” He says and I shake my head “that’s doesn’t answer my question. What. Point.” I growl out “that bones is just as in love with you as you are with him.” He says before walking out without a word. “What the hell is he talking about.” I sigh as I lay back on the bed. “Well he wasn’t lying. I do love you but that’s not why you’re here. Can you tell me why you’ve done this?” He asks grabbing my hand. I sigh as I look down at my lap “I didn’t feel beautiful anymore. And I wasn’t happy and I figured maybe if I was skinny. Maybe if I was like everyone else, maybe then I wouldn’t be so undesirable. Maybe then someone could love me.”

How could you even think that? You’ve always been the most beautiful woman in the room damn it. You’ve never been undesirable, I knew lots of men on the ship who thought the same.” He says and I shake my head “I wasn’t worried about them. I was worried about you. And after him said what he did and you didn’t say anything I knew it must be true and I knew I had to do something about it.” I say and he shakes his head “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were less then you were. But trust me I never thought you were anything but beautiful. I’ve loved you since we met at star fleet. I’ve loved you for so long but I figured you could do better so I never said anything. And for the record I didn’t say anything to Jim because I was more focused on not punching him out for saying that.” He says and I look at him. “Let’s get you better okay. I’m going to help you. I’m going to be there for you like I haven’t been, I’m sorry.” He says sitting beside me. I rest my head on his shoulder as I nod. His fingers found my chin and lifted my head up to meet his, and before I could stop myself our lips were pressed together. My hand wound through his hair as he pulled me onto his lap. I wasn’t sure how long it had been, time seemed to still as we got lost in each other. The sound of someone clearing their throat had me pulling away and turning to glare at the captain. “If you leave now I’ll forgive you.” I say a blush hearing my face. “Say no more.” He says before swiftly turning around and exiting. I bit my lip as I turned back to look at bones who was chuckling “I’ve only seen him move that fast when I’m coming at him with a hypo.” He says and I giggle. I knew this was going to be hard. And I knew I would struggle a lot, but I didn’t care. If I had these people behind me to help, then nothing would ever be a problem again.

#bones mccoy #bones x reader #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy #star trek x reader #star trek #star trek reader inserts #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk

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syntaxeme · 4 years

Text

Giardino Segreto ch. 4

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] | [Next Chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: After some deliberation, Angel decides to take Alastor up on his offer of a contract, and with a very specific goal: to utterly ruin his father. What he's asking for is no small feat, but Alastor is ready to make his plan a reality. In fact, he's looking forward to it. Maybe not the best way to start a relationship, but not the worst either.

— — –

Alastor spent the next 72 hours waiting in that abandoned hotel downtown, hoping Angel would show up at some point. He didn’t even dare go back to the Dellarosa home in order to observe; he had promised that he would be waiting if Angel came looking, and so he would be. The place, it turned out, was every bit as empty as it seemed. During his stay, he wasn’t disturbed once—which gave him far too much time to think.

With every day that passed, he became more convinced that he had made a terrible mistake in revealing his nature to Angel. Maybe his being under the influence was the only thing that had kept him from panicking and fleeing that night when they spoke, and now that he was sober again, he wouldn’t risk going back. It was even possible that Cherri had spoken to him again and explained exactly who Alastor—the Radio Demon—was and how he operated. If that were the case, then surely all was lost; he had no shortage of damning stories in his past.

His illness didn’t let up in the slightest, particularly because he was spending so much time thinking about Angel. If he weren’t already dead, he might worry about how much blood he was losing. As things stood, he had more pressing things to concern himself with.

At the end of another idle afternoon of walking the halls and trying to divine what might have happened in each room, an hour or two before sunset, Alastor heard movement downstairs. Despite being on the tenth floor at the time, he was sensitive enough to auditory detail that he caught the sound nevertheless. He froze as he heard the front door creak open, followed by a few tentative steps and—his heartbeat stuttered—Angel’s voice calling his name.

Within seconds, he was back downstairs to find an apprehensive Angel standing at the hotel’s front desk. He was dressed differently this evening, dressed more like his sister than his brother, and he clutched Alastor’s coat in both hands. Trying his best for Suave & Charming, hoping to present himself more confidently this time, Alastor met him with a smile. “You called?”

“Hey!” Angel’s face lit up with relief. “I was afraid you’d be gone already. I wanted to come sooner, but my old man was hasslin’ me about my clothes, and I hate goin’ out like this”—he gestured in disgust to his outfit—“but I got tired of waiting, so. Uh, here I am. I’m really glad you’re still here. Is this where you live or somethin’?”

“No, but I said you could find me here, and I don’t like to go back on my word.”

The boy seemed much more lucid than in their prior conversation as he added, “Oh, I brought this back too.” He held out the coat, which Alastor accepted and shrugged back into. “I almost thought I dreamt you up as some kinda last ditch option to get away from my family. But I found that when I woke up, and then I talked to Cherri and she came clean about everything.”

“You two made up, then?”

“Oh, sure. She’s my best friend. Her bein’ dead wasn’t gonna change that. Besides, I get why she didn’t tell me. It ain’t exactly somethin’ ya lead a conversation with—well, you do, maybe.”

“Not typically,” Alastor chuckled. “In fact, I don’t often speak to humans at all. You’re an exception.”

Angel’s smile widened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Somehow, despite having mentioned that he was less comfortable, his being forced to present as feminine didn’t seem to have dampened his confidence at all. He crossed his arms and shifted onto one hip as he answered, “Yeah, that’s kinda the impression I got. And I been thinkin’ a lot about that deal you mentioned before. Were you serious about that?”

Alastor tried his best not to let his hopes run away with him. “Of course. And what part of it, if you don’t mind my asking, have you been thinking about?”

“The whole thing. I feel like there is somethin’ I could use a hand with if you’re up to it. You got all this power, right? Said you can help me however I want?”

“That’s right. I doubt there’s anything you could ask for that I wouldn’t be able to accomplish.”

“Great. So you can help me run my old man’s business into the ground.”

That was hardly the request he’d expected. In fact, he could’ve guessed a hundred times without ever coming to that idea. “His business? That’s where you want to focus?”

“It’s pretty much the only thing he cares about. His pride and his money—and one’s tied to the other,” Angel explained, sounding every bit the shrewd businessman one in his position was expected to be. “Don’t think this is somethin’ I just came up with in the past couple days. I been thinkin’ about how to pull it off for years. Then you show up and say you can help me do it. That is what you’re sayin’, isn’t it?”

“I’ll admit it’s a tall order, but I can manage it,” Alastor assured him. “You’re saying you want to sabotage him?”

“Better,” the boy said with a grin. “I wanna outmatch him. I wanna put together a business of my own that puts his to shame. My own family.”

“I see. It sounds like this goal of yours has several parts to it.”

“But that’s no problem for you, right?” Angel argued innocently. He counted off on his fingers: “Make me a boss, help me build my family, eventually help me ruin everything my old man’s ever worked for. Easy.”

“And that would be worth trading your soul?” Alastor asked.

“You make that happen for me and I’ll give ya whatever you want,” the boy said with a wicked smirk, sending Alastor’s heart rate skyrocketing again.

“You’re sure?” With anyone else, he would call it a fair deal and settle it without further inquiry. But with Angel? He needed to be absolutely certain the boy wanted this before jumping into anything. The last thing he wanted was for Angel to later regret it and resent him.

“I told ya, I didn’t come up with this overnight. I’m just lucky I held off leavin’ home as long as I did.” The fire in Angel’s eyes burned away all teasing mirth, and he said firmly, “I’ve wanted this for years, Alastor. You’ve seen how he treats me, how they all treat me, and you said it yourself: it ain’t right. I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of it. Before you showed up, I figured my best bet to get away was marryin’ into some other family—but that ain’t what I want. I don’t wanna be some capo’s little fuckin’ wife and pretend I’m satisfied with that. I wanna be in charge of my own life. If that means givin’ up my soul, hell yeah, it’s worth it.”

It was that passion, possibly even that righteous anger, that had caught Alastor’s attention to begin with. If there were any one thing to be said about this boy, it was that every one of his feelings was powerful enough to move mountains. Powerful enough, evidently, to force an archdemon to develop some feelings of his own. How could Alastor be expected to stand against that? How could he be expected to resist?

The simplest answer was that he couldn’t.

“Then I’ll do my very best to serve you in the meantime,” he conceded, inclining his head.

“Serve me, huh?” Angel’s voice turned soft and smooth now that Alastor was no longer arguing with him. Running his fingers lightly along the demon’s chin to tilt his head up again, he added with a playful smile, “I like the sound of that. Does this mean you hafta do whatever I say?”

Probably not for the reason you think. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alastor chided, pulling away from his touch if for no other reason than to maintain his focus on the subject at hand. “I can promise to support your goals to the best of my ability—and if on the off chance there is a problem my power can’t solve, I’ll do all I can to enable you to solve it instead.”

“And?” Angel prompted.

“I’ll use my influence to further your family and eliminate your enemies. Above all”—so help me God—“I’ll ensure you’re kept safe and respected.”

“And…?” The boy grinned, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“And,” Alastor repeated, ready to rise to whatever challenge was being issued, “anything else you might ask of me. Say the word and it’s done.” Of course, for anyone else, that condition would be completely off the table, as he didn’t much care for being so thoroughly bound to someone else’s will—but in Angel’s case, he was already willing to do anything the boy asked; what harm was there in stipulating it as part of their contract?

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Angel answered, satisfied. “You do all that for me, and once I die, you can have my soul. Deal?” He offered his hand, and Alastor shook it firmly.

“Deal.” There was a familiar tingle of binding magic as the contract was sealed, forming a connection between the two that couldn’t be severed unless Alastor somehow failed to uphold his end of the bargain. He did not intend to fail. “First things first.” He summoned his staff and flicked it in Angel’s direction. The skirt and blouse Angel had earlier lamented transformed into something much more fitting: a navy suit, double-breasted and tailored to Angel’s measurements.

“Hey!” The boy jumped at the sudden shift, and Alastor conjured a full-length mirror so he could inspect himself. In clothing that fit both his body and his identity, he was, if possible, even more attractive.

“You know what they say. Dress for the job you want, not the job you have. I would say your hair could use a trim too, but for now…” With a flick of one hand, the Radio Demon produced a fedora to complete the look and offered it to Angel. Practically beaming with delight, the boy swept his hair back away from his face and placed the hat on his head, pulling the rim down slightly as he looked himself over from every angle.

“Not bad,” he cooed appreciatively. “Pops’d have a heart attack if he saw me like this.” That statement was made with great relish.

“As tempting as that is, it’s probably best if you don’t go back to his place. After all, he is your rival now,” Alastor pointed out.

“Obviously I don’t wanna go back, but we got a lot to do before I can move out. We don’t even have a place to work out of yet, and it’s not like we can stay here.”

Alastor tilted his head to one side. “Why not? I think this place would make for a fantastic headquarters. Plenty of room to accommodate guests and associates, a location right here in the middle of town, and quite a landmark to put your name on. Where else could be better?”

“But somebody’s gotta own the place. And whoever it is probably wouldn’t like us movin’ in without their okay,” Angel pointed out.

“Oh, just you leave that to me,” Alastor said with a wink. “Didn’t we discuss this already? If you want this building, it’s yours.”

“Hm.” The boy looked around, thoughtful. “We could make it work, I guess. It’s gonna take some time to get it cleaned up and ready to use, though.”

Alastor chuckled, shaking his head. “O ye of little faith.” He stamped the end of his staff into the ground, and the shadows responded immediately, swirling through the room to sweep away the dust, repair the damaged upholstery, restore the wiring in the walls and the chandelier overhead—whatever was needed to make the hotel functional again. The walls were papered deep red by no particular will of Alastor’s, but he didn’t bother changing it. It was rather striking, the way he saw it, and it fit nicely with the room’s dark wood furnishings. He watched the shadows disappear up the stairs and knew they would give the same treatment to every floor. Soon enough, all 1000+ rooms would be ready to use however Angel saw fit.

Angel watched the entire process with wide eyes, marveling at the sparkling crystal chandelier above them with his mouth hanging slightly open. This particular feat required much more power than Alastor typically bothered using in a single act, but the look of incredulity on the boy’s face and the smile that followed after made it completely worthwhile.

“All right,” Angel admitted. “I’m impressed.” Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.

“Let’s see. Personal image: check. Location: check,” Alastor said, glancing around the newly-renovated lobby. Now that the room was properly lit, he could see just how grand it was. There were two elevators on either side; a mezzanine where he could see the makings of a lounge; and at the back of the room, a broad staircase that opened onto a landing, then curved on either side to lead to the upper level. Very picturesque. “Now all we need is a family to fill it.”

“Ya got that up your sleeve too?”

“In a manner of speaking; I know a few people I can call, at least.”

“People,” Angel repeated, “or demons?”

“Yes,” Alastor snickered. “Capable individuals, I assure you, and isn’t that what really matters? Now, who would you say is the most important part of a mafia family, next to the boss?”

“Consigliere,” Angel answered without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s the boss’s advisor, usually somebody that’s been in the business a while. He helps with finances, competition with other families, pretty much every aspect of runnin’ the show.”

“Hmm. A jack of all trades, then, someone with business sense and a head for strategy,” Alastor reasoned, considering his list of contacts to determine who might fit best into this position. Only one name came to mind.

With a clap of his hands, another demon manifested at the top of the stairs, a snakelike creature with iridescent black scales and gleaming golden accessories. She blinked as if mildly surprised, and her intense yellow eyes quickly fell on Alastor and Angel. With a patient smile, she shifted into an entirely human form, one with brown skin and sleek black hair bobbed at her shoulders. Tall, slender, clad in deep green slacks and a well-fitted blouse, she looked nothing if not professional.

“Alastor,” she purred with a slight hiss on the S, waltzing her way down the stairs as if this were a sort of mischief she had expected. Her heels clicked on the wood floor with every step. “It’s been a while. What are we doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Venture,” the Radio Demon answered. Gesturing to Angel, he explained, “My charge is a soon-to-be crime lord and has need of a—well, my Italian is a little rusty; what was the word, Angel?”

“Consigliere,” the boy repeated, looking the new arrival up and down appraisingly.

“An advisor,” Alastor explained. “I could think of no better fit for that role than you. And you do owe me a favor or two, yes?”

“Wait, her?” Angel protested. “It can’t be her. She’s…” He gestured vaguely at her body, and Venture tossed her head back with a laugh.

“What? A woman?” Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stood on one hip, holding herself with all the confidence one would expect of an Overlord. “I certainly am, pet, and the best damned businesswoman this side of the Nile.”

“Venture has been an entrepreneur for millennia,” Alastor explained. “Gender notwithstanding, you won’t find anyone better suited to the position.”

“Flatterer,” she chuckled.

“Guys in the business don’t respect women,” Angel insisted. “And they ain’t gonna respect me if I’m listenin’ to one.”

“Success speaks louder than appearances,” Venture said evenly. “My guidance can make you richer than Croesus, and I promise you, where money goes, respect follows.” She always has been persuasive. “Luckily for you, I don’t have anything more interesting in the works right now. I don’t mind sticking around—assuming you’ll have me, sweetness.” She gave Angel an expectant look, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to cut that condescending bullshit. No matter how much experience you have, as long as you’re here, I’m your boss. So if we’re gonna work together, you can’t be talkin’ down to me. Got it?” Well, he had certainly adjusted to the role of boss quickly! Alastor almost worried his insolence would lose them an ally, but Venture seemed more amused than offended.

“Feisty, isn’t he?” she said, stealing a glance at Alastor. Nevertheless, she bowed to Angel with a flourish. “Of course, sir, you’ll have my utmost respect at all times. Now, is this our first endeavor?” She shifted her attention to the room they were in, looking it over critically. “The color scheme is a bit obvious, but I’m sure I can make it work. Whoever did your decorating clearly has taste.”

“What, the hotel?” Angel asked, watching her stride over to the gleaming front desk to check out the space behind it. “I can see it as a front, but why bother actually runnin’ it?”

“The better question is why not,” Venture countered, digging a phone book out of one of the drawers. “It’s a source of income that wouldn’t require much oversight on your part, and having guests in and out regularly will help cover up any less, uh, legitimate dealings you want to do here. Little to lose, lots to gain.”

“But it ain’t the kinda business a respectable family runs,” Angel argued stubbornly, arms crossed. “There’s rules and traditions ya gotta take into account. My old man would never—” He stopped himself for a moment, likely realizing that something about his approach was off. “Actually, ya know what? Sure. Havin’ the place up and runnin’ is a smart move. You can get that started on your own?”

“Leave it to me, habiibii,” she agreed distractedly, waving a hand to conjure a rotary phone on the countertop. In moments, she was thoroughly engrossed in making calls, taking to the job like a fish to water and all but forgetting the room’s other two occupants.

“That’s how I wanna do things,” Angel decided, turning to Alastor again. “I’m gonna make this family the most successful one in the city, and I’m gonna do it by blowin’ all my old man’s rules to Hell.”

“Oh? That’s an unusual business model.”

“You said I can have anything I want,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows, hands on his hips. “What I want is to prove all his bullshit principles and traditions are holdin’ him back, and to prove I can do his job better. And you’re gonna help me do it.” His tone brooked no argument, and indeed, Alastor offered none.

“I look forward to working with you, Don Dellarosa,” he replied—but Angel grimaced at the title.

“Ugh, no, that’s my old man. Besides, we can’t have two Dellarosa families in the same city. Ours is gonna need a different name.” He screwed up his face thoughtfully. “Any ideas?”

Biting his lower lip as he considered, curiously observing his new consigliere’s work, he exuded such potential, such determination. He had set a goal for himself (years ago, it seemed) and would achieve it whatever the cost—even if it meant his immortal soul. Conviction that powerful commanded respect. Alastor felt another cough coming on and struggled to hold it back, clearing his throat as an answer came to mind.

“Giardino,” he suggested, and Angel raised an eyebrow at him.

“‘S a little plain. Why that?”

Alastor shrugged and reasoned, “If your father’s family deals in roses, what clearer statement than to claim the entire garden for yourself?”

At this explanation, Angel’s lips split into a grin, and it was by sheer force of will that Alastor didn’t wince from the pain in his chest. “I like the way you think, Al. Angel Giardino… Kinda has a nice ring to it. We’ll need more than just the three of us, obviously—”

“Which I’ll take care of within a few days.”

“—but once we’re in business? The Giardinos are gonna run this city,” he said with absolute confidence, looking over the lobby that was now his domain. Knowing that all the satisfaction and anticipation on the boy’s face was his doing had Alastor’s heart racing with delight. Maybe this arrangement would turn out better than expected. Angel looked at him, expectant, excited, ready to move forward. “So? Whaddaya say we plant some fuckin’ flowers?”

Done and done, cher.

#RadioDust #this really feels like the end of a tutorial period in a video game #like okay NOW the actual story can start #Hazbin Angel Dust #Hazbin Alastor #Angel Dust x Alastor #Alastor x Angel Dust #more action and less dialogue in the next chapter I promise #fanfiction #Giardino Segreto

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birdwholanded · 4 years

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The Goldfinch (Spoiler)

If you want to read the Goldfinch for yourself to get your own understanding and opinion on it, read it for yourself before you read this because this is what I thought about it for myself.

Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch is divided into the chapters Boy with a Skull, The Anatomy Lesson, Park Avenue, Morphine Lollipop, Badr al-Dine, Wind Sand and Stars, The Shop-Behind-the-Shop, The Shop-Behind the Shop, continued, Everything of Possibility, The Idiot, The Gentleman’s Canal, and The Rendezvous Point. At the beginning of the book there is a quote ,“He’s telling you that living things don’t last-it’s all temporary. Death in life. That’s why they’re called natures mortes. Maybe you don’t see it at first with all of the beauty and bloom, the little speck of rot. But if you look closer-there it is.” (24) I like this quote because I can relate to this. My grandfather passed away from cancer in December of last year while my aunt was also very ill with leukemia during the time. My hamster passed away and so did both of my parakeets. I didn’t know how to take it when my parakeet passed away at the bottom of his cage with his feet up in the air. It affected me a lot. My mom took him out of his cage and made him a nice home in a box with tissue paper and clothes so he could rest nicely in them. My mom and I had a funeral for him and said nice things about him and the memories that we had about him and then I buried him underneath a tree in my backyard. My hamster was breathing heavily and his heart stopped beating one morning when my dad woke up. He woke me up by coming into my room and telling me that he had passed away overnight. We put him in a nice box too and buried him by my parakeet. I did not know how to cope with the avalanche of sickness and death that has happened to my family members and my pets at the end of last year and the beginning of this year. I grieved in my own way because it was a really sad time. I felt like I shut off and became angry at the world because I did not understand why things happened the way that they did. My family also lost a distant family member this year from a heart attack. People cope with loss in different ways too. It is very personal. I enjoyed the section of the book where his mother gave him the painting to keep and hold on to to remember her by. It is a keepsake and an heirloom. A mother was taking her student son to an art gallery in New York City but an explosion went off in the gallery while they were inside and everyone was rushing to try to escape the gallery. The son left, but the mother never did. She passed away in the explosion and the son has to come to terms with it and where he is going from there. He doesn’t have a home to stay at anymore so the social workers want to put him with his grandparents, but his grandmother’s back is going out and she can’t take care of him properly. He feels out of place and he doesn’t belong anywhere. “But suicide wasn’t the ansswer.” (93) He felt isolated and disconnected. He wanted to go back in time. His father is not a presence in his life when he is living in New York. He is irritated and cold a lot of the time. He doesn’t like to come home and wants to stay out drinking. It is described that he has a lot of stressors on his mind and that he even wants to move to Atlantic City and start over again. He is fearful. The son can’t look up to him because he doesn’t want to be involved with anything. The son is taken to a home where his friend is in AP classes and he is dedicated to his studies so he can’t do anything because all of his time is taken up. He watches old Turner classic movies to distract himself. Theo misses his mom and questions if he could have done things differently to prevent her death while he is staying at the temporary house. He wants to leave the house but he has nowhere to go. Theo wants to disappear and hide. He goes to therapy and while he is there he thinks about a girl named Pippa that he saw at the museum with his mom when the explosion happened. He cannot get Pippa off of his mind and he fantasizes about her. He meets with her and he finds out that she is moving away to Texas because her mother had passed away too so she is looking to start a new chapter in a new location. A fresh start. He gets to move in with his father in Las Vegas and is charmed by his father’s lifestyle. It is a completely different lifestyle living with his father and girlfriend than living with his temporary housing family Andy and the Barbours. He meets a guy named Borris in his class in school and Boris lived in Ukraine and Russia and he introduced him to that culture. Boris is a main character in the book and is almost Theo’s wingman. Boris is not a good influence for him because he introduces him to a darker lifestyle. Theo, the narrator of the story gets early admission to go to college and he goes into a European film class. His friends are taking classes like intro to Russian literature. The book, The Idiot by Doeskevsky is referenced too and philosophical things are taken out of the book and questioned by Boris near the resolution of the book. He has a painting called the goldfinch that his mother gave him. When the explosion at the art gallery happened, some paintings got ruined. He discovers that his friend Andy had died and he is contemplating death some more. I liked how the beginning of the book connected to the end of it in the way that it explains the characters’ fate and circumstances. At the beginning of the book he is in Amsterdam, but it is not explained why he is there until the ending of the book where he commit capital murder to save the painting his dead mother gave to him. “It was a social and moral lesson, if nothing else. But for all foreseeable time to come-for as long as history was written, until the icecaps melted and the streets of Amsterdam were awash with water-the painting would be remembered and mourned. Who knew, or cared, the names of the Turks who blew the roof off the Parthenon? The mullahs who had ordered the destruction of the Buddhas at Bamiyan? Yet living or dead:their acts stood. It was the worst kind of immorality. Intentionally or no:I had extinguished a light in the heart of the world. An act of God:that was what the insurance companies called it, catastrophe so random or arcane that there was otherwise no taking the measure of it. Probability was one thing, but some events fell so far outside the actuarial tables that even insurance underwriters were compelled to haul in the supernatural in order to explain them-rotten luck, as my father had said mournfully one night out by the pool, dusk falling hard, smoking Viceroy to keep the mosquitoes away, one of the few times he tried to talk to me about my mother’s death, why do bad things happen, why me, why her, wrong place wrong time, just a fluke kid, one in a million not an evasion or copout in anyway but-I recognized, coming from him-a profession of faith and the best answer he had to give me, on par with Allah Has Written It or It’s the Lord’s Will, a sincere bowing of the head to Fortune, the greatest god he knew.” (701-702) He describes going through drug withdrawals in some parts of the book and he talks about morphine, xanax, oxycontin, riboxycotin. He was snorting coke too. His father was taking vicodin which is hydrocodone. I didn’t expect for there to be so much discussion about drug use. The father relies on drugs to ease his situation. He got sober however. The father was addicted to drugs because of the relationship he had with his wife, the mother of Theo. The husband and wife got at each other’s throats and they would argue. He didn’t appreciate the situation he had when he was around her. He tried to escape. I think drug use is escapism but is also used for relaxation. Cigarettes, marijuana, alcohol are ok to use because they are soft drugs that put one at ease. When one starts to use hard drugs like cocaine, then it is not so good because they rely on it for its effects and get addicted to it. They have to get enough money for drugs too. It’s a cycle that is hard to break because one always craves the drug rush. I have smoked cigarettes and marijuana and I drink. I don’t care if people drink. I don’t care what people do unless it is illegal. I think that things are ok in moderation. The Goldfinch is about appreciating every moment in life whether good or bad, its ups and downs because it's a very rare and precious thing. One has to appreciate life because at any second one’s relative could pass away in a car accident, shooting, etc not to say that it will happen, but anything and everything is to be expected and can happen. The Goldfinch is a rare creature that moves quickly. One moment it could be here and the next moment it can be flying away and migrating to a different location with its species to be never seen again for a while. When I was reading this book, I went outside to sit in my backyard and continue to read and I had my parakeet and dog sitting outside with me. I went inside the house to get something, but my dog alo wanted to come inside the house at the same time while my parakeet’s cage was very close by. My dog was biting my pants trying to get inside the house first, and I had slightly kicked him trying to get him to stop biting me, but in doing that, my parakeet’s cage had toppled over into the flower bed by accident and my parakeet was free. She tried to fly away through a hole in our fence to get into my neighbor’s yard, however I was quick enough to come and get my mom to help save her, because I had thought that I had lost her. She did not go very far and was stuck in the fence. My mom was able to get a hold of her and put her back in her cage. I had fixed her cage after it had fallen down. It was scary because she could have easily been gone for good like my two other parakeets. My parakeet looks like a gold finch because she is golden and bright like the sun. I call her sundrop. Her name is Coronja. ‘...if bad can sometimes come from good actions-? Where does it ever say, anywhere,that only bad can come from bad actions? Maybe sometimes-the wrong way is the right way? You can take the wrong path and it still comes out to where you want to be? Or, spin it another way, sometimes you can do everything wrong and it still turns out to be right?....What if all your actions and choices, good or bad make no difference to God? What if the pattern is pre set?...What if our badness and mistakes are the very thing that set our fate and bring us round to good? What if, for some of us, we can’t get there any other way?” (745-746) This quote discusses predestination. The idea of if you will go to heaven or hell or some other universe. “Predestination is the doctrine that all events have been willed by God usually reference to the eventual fate of the individual soul.” (wikipedia.org) “Explanations of predestination often seek to address the paradox of free will.” (wikipedia.org) “Therefore as predestination includes the will to confer grace and glory so also reprobation includes the will to permit a person to fall into sin and impose the punishment of damnation on account of that sin.” (wikipedia.org) “It’s not hard to see the human in the finch. Dignified, vulnerable. One prisoner looking at another...the bird looks out at us…” (766) From this quote I get the idea of reincarnation and that animals do have human characteristics. Animals have little souls that are like people. They have common traits that cannot be denied. “...wade straight through it, right through the cesspool, while keeping eyes and heart open. And in the midst of our dying, as we rise from the organic and sink back ignominiously into the organic, it is a glory and privilege to love what Death doesn’t touch. For if disaster and oblivion have followed this painting down through time-so too has love. Insofar as it is immortal (and it is) I have a small bright, immutable part in that immortality. It exists; and it keeps on existing. And I add my own love to the history of people who have loved beautiful things, and looked out for them, and pulled them from the fire, and sought them when they were lost, and tried to preserve them and save them while passing them along literally from hand to hand, singing out brilliantly from the wreck of time to the next generation of lovers and the next.” (771) This quote talks about even though people are unhappy,achy, fragile, unhealthy and sick, there is still a bright side to things and to see things through, like my grandfather. My grandfather had given up in his elderly age and would lay on his couch and just watch the news or the stock market. He did not want to have that much of an existence when he got old. He had a stroke when I was ten years old and he could not get around that much and his speech was slurred. He had to go to physical therapy. The main message of the book is to say don’t take anything for granted and to be appreciative because everything can be taken away in an instant and your whole life can change by the small actions that you choose to make or not to make. At the beginning of the story, the main character is on house arrest in Amsterdam and it ties in with the ending of the story to say that he is on House Arrest for the actions he decided to make. He cannot appreciate the city of Amsterdam and everyone there knows him as a criminal. He got charged with capital murder and has to stay where the cops knows where he is at. People move quickly and do make poor decisions that affect them for the rest of their lives. Small choices have a great impact being if you commit a crime such as embezzling money, committing fraud, stealing, etc then you will have big punishments. It affects a lot of people in negative ways. People’s feelings can get hurt and everything can change for the worse in a matter of seconds. It is difficult to deal with death of loved ones and animals and even the idea of it is scary and hard to come to terms with. When there are situations where one is faced with it, he or she can make harsh decisions that they will regret later on whatever they may be. Things can be altered so much that there could be no going back to the way things were. Small events can have a large impact. In the heat of the moment though, anything can happen, and regrets made. That is why it is important to be appreciative and loving to everyone, because people can grieve over the loss of their pet, over their loss of money, over the loss of a friend, etc. Even if you don’t want to wake up day after day after day because you did have loved ones pass away, you still need to wake up for yourself and see the good in everything because there are so many wonderful things to appreciate and cherish, so many opportunities to be had and loved and memories to be made. Love the pets that you have and love your family and friends. Cherish everything because everyone and everything is valuable and meaningful and adds to the quality of your life. Theo comes to terms with his mother’s passing and grows from it and learns how to live with it. Donna Tartt, the author of The Goldinch, puts in philosophical ideas and examples in this book that I appreciate. She uses quotes from Albert Camus, “The absurd does not liberate; it binds.” What I understand of this quote is absurdity doesn’t make one free, it ties one down and wraps one up. She uses another quote, “When we are strongest-who draws back? Most merry-who falls down laughing? When we are very bad,-what can they do to us?” This is said by the French poet Arthur Rimbaud. I get from this quote that who is there to watch people fall when times are hard? “We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.” is a quote by François De La Rochefoucauld. Rochefoucauld is a noted French author of maxims and memoirs. He is part of the literary movement of classicism and is best known for his maxisms. “It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons.” by Schiller. I like this quote because people have hearts and want to enjoy the good things and get past the bad things that happen. “We have art in order not to die from the truth.”-Nietzsche. Tartt grabs philosophical examples from The Little Prince in some parts of the book.

#thegoldfinch #book review

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