#i know i said the previous one was the last one for a while but THIS is the last one for a while i prommy

[chvoswxtch]

personal

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: lately frank has been acting suspicious, and you've decided to finally confront him about it.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst

word count: 3.4k

a/n: i hope y'all have been enjoying things being nice & light & sexy & fun bc these last few chapters aren't holding back any punches. shit is about to get real. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [series masterlist]

Not even five minutes after Frank walked through the threshold of his apartment, the rumble of an incessant banging sounded on his front door. His dark brows instantly furrowed with irritation at the sound. Slipping his right hand behind his back to grab the handle of the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans, he turned the knob and swung the door open with just as much ferocity as the person knocking on the other side. 

The creases of annoyance on his sharp features suddenly smoothed into recognition at the sight of you standing in front of him, but not long after, his warm brown eyes widened in complete bewilderment seeing the raw fury that was burning in your eyes. 

“Hey-”

Before he could utter another word, you forced your way inside his apartment, causing him to quickly retreat backwards, wincing when you swiftly slammed the front door shut behind yourself.

“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on with you, right now.”

Frank was utterly caught off guard by your aggressive behavior. The last time he had seen you this angry with him was when he showed up at your place after Cavella and Walker had attacked you. He was so distracted by your incensed entrance, he almost missed what you said. But when his brain finally caught up with his ears, your words only fueled his convoluted confusion.

“There nothin’ goin’ on-”

“Bullshit! Don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Frank.”

“Sweetheart, I’m not lyin’-”

“You’ve lied to me three times in the past month.”

Creases of puzzlement settled between Frank’s thick brows hearing that. Had he really lied to you three times? He couldn’t even remember what he’d lied about, or how you caught onto the fact that he was. Frank admittedly had been a bit out of it when it came to you lately, but he wasn’t doing it on purpose to hurt you. He just happened to be caught in the middle of something he was trying to keep you as far away from as possible.

Taking his silence as evidence of guilt, you stared up into his eyes, wanting him to see the proof of grief in your reflection that his actions had caused. You wanted him to hear the severity in the words that lacerated your tongue as they slipped past your lips that had been bitten raw from your tortured anxiety.

“You never once lied to me before Frank, ever. I don’t know why you’re choosing to start now, but if I hear one more lie come out of your mouth, I am done. I will walk out that door and I will have nothing to do with you ever again, that's it. Do you hear me?”

That caught Frank’s attention. There was no waver in your voice, no threat in your tone, just raw emotion and sincerity. 

For the past month, Frank had been acting strange. You’d caught him in three white lies, and while they may have seemed small and trivial to someone else, they were anything but that to you. Because you’d been stuck with a pathological liar before, and there was no such thing as harmless lies. A lie was a lie, and it was a crack in the foundation of trust and integrity that you’d built with Frank, and a crack could turn into a rift, and a rift could divide you and make it all come crumbling down.

Since yours and Frank’s schedules didn’t always line up, you’d both done everything you could to make every moment count since your first date. But lately, it felt like you were the only one putting in the effort. Frank was chronically distracted these last few weeks. He was late to meet you for dates, he didn’t call when he said he was going to, and sometimes you didn’t hear from him at all until the day was practically over. And when he was with you, Frank was physically present, but mentally he seemed to be somewhere you couldn’t follow. Even sitting right beside one another, it felt like there were oceans of distance separating you subconsciously. 

At first, you’d tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was one little white lie. One missed call after a long day. Just fifteen minutes of waiting at the restaurant. This was Frank, the man who had saved your life more times than you could count. He was different. This was real. You had nothing to be concerned about.

But then one white lie turned to three, and one missed call turned into not hearing from him until an excuse appeared across your screen at half past midnight, and fifteen minutes late turned into not showing up at all. His behavior planted a seed of suspicion in your mind that grew like wild ivy, coveting the sense of security you had in him with leaves of doubt, sprouting spirals of diabolical hypotheticals that canvassed your brain with catastrophe. 

Every knot of faith Frank had woven into your heart with his actions over the last nine months were steadily being unraveled by his own hand in a matter of weeks. The confidence you had in him was now frayed in shreds and left you in a fit of mania, scrutinizing his every intent under a microscope. 

You had been here before. You’d been lied to, manipulated, cheated on, pushed to the brink of insanity, and eventually left behind. You recognized all the signs of duplicity and betrayal, but you’d covered your own eyes so you wouldn’t have to acknowledge them, because it was Frank. 

Blunt-and-brutally-honest, jump-in-front-of-a-bullet, remembers-every-little-detail, got-his-knuckles-bloody-for-you, killed-for-you, Frank.

And that’s why this hurt so much. That’s why this dagger of deceit tore clean right through your chest, leaving you standing in the middle of Frank’s living room, hysterical and furious for an elixir of truth that could make this pain go away and heal your belief in him once again. He’d been so MIA lately that you had spent hours camped out in front of his apartment building tonight, waiting to see his truck pull up just so you could follow him inside and finally have this conversation face to face.

Frank could hear in your voice that he’d hurt you, and even worse, he could see the evidence of it shining in your eyes. The pieces of yourself you’d lent him to patch up his own heart were suddenly bleeding at the seams seeing how his unintentionally selfish preoccupation had left you marooned. Shame didn’t begin to cover the way he felt. He knew he needed to be honest, but he couldn’t tell you everything.

Not yet.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But it ain’t what you think, sweetheart.”

“Then what is it? Explain it to me.”

Frank took a seat on the couch and gently patted the space next to him, looking up at you with diligent patience while you internally debated between standing stubbornly or giving into his request to sit with him. After a moment you finally sat down, but you intentionally put space between the two of you and folded your arms across your chest in a silent gesture of defensiveness. Resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs, Frank clasped his right hand over his left wrist, staring down at his worn boots while deciding his next words carefully.

“I got a new assignment.”

The quiet tone of Frank’s voice and the lack of eye contact while he spoke immediately caused a spark in your nervous system. 

“Where?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Frank let a moment of silence pass before turning his head to look at you with an apologetic gleam in his warm brown eyes.

“I’ve been helpin’ Madani with somethin’.”

Pinching at the bridge of your nose, you let out a slow exhale of irritation. Frank had already strained your patience with his behavior this past month, and his obscure responses were only making it worse.

“Why are you being so secretive about this?”

“It’s complicated-”

“Complicated how? You didn’t have to hide the last job from me-”

“This one is different-”

“Different how? That doesn’t make any sense-”

“You gonna let me talk? Or you gonna keep yellin’ at me?”

The way you clenched your jaw and narrowed your gaze at his quip made Frank regret letting his own frustration get the best of him. You were already pissed off, now was not the time for him to snap back at you like he normally did when the two of you argued about something. A wave of annoyance quickly crested within you. The second you stood up from the couch, Frank’s large hand reached out to grab your wrist.

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Walk away from this conversation-”

“What conversation, Frank? You’re not doing anything but giving me vague excuses. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Frank gave your wrist a gentle tug to get you to sit back down next to him on the couch. He once again waited calmly as you stood defiantly for a moment before reluctantly sitting back down. He let his large hand glide across your wrist to take your hand into his own, holding it firmly in his lap while cocking his head to the side to try and catch your gaze.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

When he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, the prolonged pause of silence caused you to eventually shift your attention back to Frank, and you could see that his brown eyes were a deep shade of contrition.

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been distracted lately, and I haven’t been ‘round like I shoulda been. And you’re right, I did lie to ya, and I’m sorry ‘bout that. I’m not tryin’ to keep things from ya, sweetheart. It’s just…this one is…it’s different.” 

“Why? What makes this one so different that you have to lie to me about it?”

“It’s personal.”

Now it was your turn to be perplexed. You thought Frank was long past holding you at arms length and keeping up a fortified impenetrable steel wall around his heart and mind. He’d opened up to you before, talked about his life in the Marines, told you about the family he’d loved and lost, even spoke about them more comfortably and freely now without the shadow of grief looming over his words. Why was he back to shielding his vulnerability?

“Personal?”

Frank knew you wanted more of an explanation. You needed more. And he hated that he couldn’t give it to you right now. He hated that there was still so much that he was holding back from you, and that it was his own fault you were even doubting him in the first place.

“Listen, I can’t explain it right now, alright? But I will. When it’s all said and done, I’m…I’m gonna…I’ll have to tell ya some things first, some things you may not wanna hear and probably won’t like hearin’. But I promise, I’m gonna tell you everythin’, alright? I just need you to trust me right now.”

Every word Frank spoke hid another piece of the puzzle he was crafting, and you were left with misshapen gaps of confusion. You didn’t know what he meant by saying there were things he had to explain that you might not want to hear, or how that factored into the job he was currently working. Nothing he was saying made any sense to you, and it only left you with more crucial questions than justifiable answers. Pulling your hand away from his, you got up from the couch and started to stressfully pace back and forth.

“So the reason you’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately is because of this new assignment, that you can’t tell me anything about, other than it’s personal, but you can’t explain why that is. And it’s going to take you somewhere eventually, but you can’t tell me where, because you don’t even know yet, and even if you did, you still wouldn’t tell me. And I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume that you have no idea how long this is going to last, but you expect me to sit here and act like everything is fine between us and trust you even though I have no fucking idea where you’re going or what you’re doing. Did I miss anything?”

Frank could hear the barely concealed hostility in your tone. He couldn’t combat a single thing you said. When you finally stopped pacing and turned to face him, staring at him expectantly, a ring of treachery was blazing around your irises. He could see it right then in your eyes. If he didn’t fix this, he would lose you.

Slowly rising from the couch, Frank stood there with a dispirited weight resting on his shoulders, a look of pleading softening his warm brown eyes. 

“I’m gonna handle this as soon as I can, I promise.”

“I can’t do another month of this, Frank.”

“Then it won’t be another month. I’ll figure it out before then.”

“How?”

The resentment you felt towards Frank was rapidly fading into pure desperation. All you wanted was an answer, a real answer. Something of substance that you could understand, something tangible to hold onto during this period of uncertainty. Frank could feel the despair radiating off of you in thick sorrowful waves, and the fact that you were close to forfeiting this argument had him instantly tensing as the chill of dread straightened his spine. He had to give you something.

“Listen, Madani gave me some intel, alright? I’ve been followin’ it, tryin’ to find proof she’s right, or if she’s just seein’ what she wants to see.”

“But why did she give it to you? What can you do that Homeland Security can’t?”

Frank stared at you silently for a moment, and you could see a look of hesitation flash in his eyes. There was something there, something you couldn’t figure out. But you could tell by the expression on his face that there was a lot more to this than it being a top secret assignment from Homeland. Whatever it was, it had everything to do with Frank. You just couldn’t figure out why. After a terse minute of silence, Frank stood up a little straighter while subtly clenching his jaw, and there was a hardened look in his eyes.

“Cause it’s connected to someone I know.”

The way he spoke that sentence with an ominous undertone sent an icy torrent down your spine. Sensing your trepidation, Frank let out a deep sigh and glanced around his apartment for a moment while lost in thought before eventually looking at you again, this time with a softer gaze.

“Look, I can’t explain it all right now, sweetheart. All I can tell ya is that Madani needed someone she could trust on this, and I owe her a debt.”

Letting those words sink in, you tried to put your biased emotions aside for a moment and think logically about what Frank was saying. Dinah had asked him for a favor. Part of you found it  surprising that she came to Frank and Billy, considering the way she acted towards Billy the day Steven was arrested. But maybe that look of distrust and disdain had everything to do with the complicated relationship they’d had that Billy mentioned. 

If Frank was working for Dinah, then he was working for Homeland, which meant he probably didn’t have a choice but to keep everything from you. And yet, here he was still trying to give you crumbs of explanations, and promising to tell you everything once this new assignment was over. At least you could lay the fear to rest that he was seeing someone else. Standing here now, you felt ridiculous that you’d restlessly jumped to the conclusion of an illicit affair. But in your own defense, it had been difficult to think clearly when Frank’s covert behavior mirrored that of past boyfriends' unfaithful performances.

As your shoulders physically deflated from your own conspiracies unraveling just to get tangled in a new set of ambiguities, you let out a deep exhale and rubbed both of your palms tiredly down your face, grasping onto the back of your neck for a moment. When you first showed up at Frank’s apartment, you had felt completely warranted in your anger. Now, you weren’t sure if you had overreacted in your manic state, or if you still had a right to be upset with Frank. At this point, you just felt drained from trying to balance on that tightrope of your own conflicting emotions.

Frank had saved your life several times over, and Dinah personally made sure that Steven would spend the rest of his life in prison. You owed them both everything. The least you could do was show them a little patience. 

“Alright. Fine.”

In the nine months that Frank had known you, never once had you conceded in an argument. Even when you were in the wrong, you struggled with admitting that you had been erroneous. Frank’s blood ran cold with the thought that he might have pushed you too far healing the casual defeat in your voice. He didn’t want you to give up on him like this. Frank quickly took a step towards you the second you took a step towards the door, reaching out to gently grab your arm.

“Hey, hey c’mon. Don’t go.”

“Frank, I’m tired-”

“Then stay. Just stay here, c’mon. It’s late, yeah? Stay.”

Frank wasn’t giving you any room to decline the offer disguised as a command. One of his strong arms slipped around your waist, pulling you firmly into his chest while his large hand gently cradled the back of your head. He pressed his lips in a soft, lingering kiss to the crown of your head, hugging onto you tightly while resting his cheek against the side of your head. The rigid tension in your body lethargically began to melt, and Frank’s deep gravelly voice whispering into your ear dismantled the last of your defensiveness.

“Just stay with me, baby. Please stay.”

Frank knew that he didn’t deserve you. He didn’t feel that he’d earned this second chance at life he was getting. But he would be damned if he’d let anything ruin this now that he had you. He would’ve told Madani to go to hell if he’d known the favor was going to cause such a big disruption to the peace he’d found within you.

But not only did he owe his second shot to her, he desperately needed to know the truth himself.

“When will you leave?”

Frank hugged onto you even tighter, rubbing his hand along your lower back in soothing slow circles.

“M’not sure yet. But I’ll tell ya as soon as I know, I promise. And I’ll make sure you’re taken care of while I’m gone, yeah? I’ll be back before ya know it, baby.”

Hearing the soft sigh that sounded from you, Frank nuzzled his nose into your hair and whispered gently to you.

“Listen, I won’t take no more jobs like this, alright? I’m gonna handle this for Madani, and that’s it. I won’t do anythin’ else that’ll take me too far from you, yeah? I’m not gonna leave ya, sweetheart. I told ya I’m always gonna be here. I meant that then, and I mean it now. You ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout that.”

You tried to find comfort in those words, but you weren’t in the mental state to accept any vows. You couldn’t get past the glaring truth that Frank was hiding something from you, and until you knew what it was, that crack of dishonesty would continue to slowly spread. You had a sneaking suspicion in the pit of your stomach that whatever verity Frank was concealing had the potential to shatter everything; unveiling the illusion that your relationship hadn’t been formed out of the impervious stone that you’d believed in, but rather of futile glass.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[bunnys-kisses]

"the bounties & death au" (a modern gods au)

a/n: 'sunlight' by hozier is burned into my brain

god of death!simon has been locked away for centuries, not able to return to the surface of the earth after being casted away into the shadows of the underworld. but once he finds himself free, in the countryside of england.

the world feels and looks different than what he remembered. it even smelled different. but the familiar grey sky of england loomed in a familiar way. the only thing in the distance was a small stone cottage with smoke coming out of the chimney. his legs felt weak, but he managed to make it to the cottage. it had been so long since he walked, after being chained on his knees. to walk again felt like being a newborn deer.

who was he to see on the other side of the door, was none other than you. you looked scared and quickly closed the door. you squeaked, "no one's home! please leave."

simon was a bit confused, his eyebrows knitted together as he knocked once more. he said in his low voice, "i know yer in there. please, let me in."

"are you going to kill me?" "no." "are you sure?" "i need help, i have no interest in killing ya." he lit up when he saw you open the door and look up at him.

you took him in but told him that he had to sit at the chair in the kitchen and not move. you knew it was a risk but, there was something familiar about him that you couldn't quite put your finger on. (you'd later recall when you felt close to death after the death of your previous boyfriend).

but simon is kind, you find it comforting to speak to him. he was calm and didn't move from the chair. when he moved as he ate, his movements were slow as to not scare you. simon thought of you like a rabbit. small and delicate, easily nervous.

the first act of kindness he had received in a long time was you sharing a meal with him. the gods didn't need to eat, but the warmth of the stew you made had him feeling warm.

you were an author who had stayed out in the country for some time in order to get a break from the weight of being in the city. you remarked that london was beautiful, and while simon had no way of imagining a city that big, he knew it was nowhere as beautiful as you.

he wouldn't make a move until your last night in the cottage before you headed back to the city. you said you'd drive him wherever he needed to be, but he said he had no home.

you asked him why and he said, "the place i came from. i cannot go back to." and while he hunched his shoulders, you reached up to him and allowed him to stay with you. you had grown to feel affection towards the man, even if you had many more questions about him than answers.

but that night, you shared wine together. you were all over him, your smaller body up against him. when he held onto your ass so you wouldn't fall over, you moaned. you giggled and told him you hadn't been held like that in a long time.

and for the first time in eternity, as simon thrusted into you, he would worship you rather than people worshiping him. as he held your hands onto the bed while you made love, he wondered if it was possible to build a shrine to you. to allow others to worship you the way he wished to do to you.

"you make me feel alive." you whispered in his ear.

an exhale left simon's lips, he then kissed you deeply once more. as you moaned into the kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist, all simon could think about was that he understood why humans were so desperate to get into the heavens. because if it felt anywhere close to how he felt next to you, he would scramble to get through the gates.

his little human, his little fruitful bounty <3

[sluts4matt]

Hiiiii Ik you are not Latina but you write for latinas (which I’m so thankful for btw because I can’t find many Latina reader fics as a Latina) but I wanted to ask that if you are comfortable with it and you know anything about it if you could right a fic about Latina reader dating either Chris or Matt and her introducing them to stuff like pan dulce, tres leches cake, flan, Hispanic candy and big family parties just how they would react to all of it. Again this is only if you are comfortable with it I don’t want you to feel pressured to do it at all I just really love your work so I had to ask.🫶

TRADITION

pairing: matt sturniolo x mexican!reader

summary: family get togethers happened once every year, this year you were more than happy to bring your boyfriend to share your traditions with.

warnings: swearing, fluff, small argument between reader and their cousin, kinda suggestive in the beginning, i make a small joke about white people which could set a snowflake off so 🤷‍♀️.

word count: 2074

authors note: i can't tell if i like it or if i feel like i didn't do your request justice. i'd like to say that i've never had flan myself, but like everything else i mentioned i've eaten before. (twas not made by white people)

you and matt had been dating for basically a year now. and while obviously your parents, and close family knew matt, your tía’s and tíos did not. however, this month your tía cindy was hosting a family get together.

they typically happen one time each year, each family member hosting a year. last year, your parents hosted. "i think you should come with me to my family get together," you mutter to matt, running a hand through the boy's brown locks as he laid his face on your chest.

the two of you were currently cuddled up in your bed, the babadook playing on your tv. your phone was resting on your pillow next to your head, your phone going off because of the groupchat you were in with your cousins.

"that would be cool," he mumbled, nuzzling his face into your chest. you could feel his eyes close against your skin, obviously meaning he was tired.

"i can introduce you to them as my boyfriend," you spoke quietly, almost as if you were trying not to scare him off, though a small smile was on your lips. though in reality you didn't know how you would. bro had seen you in all your naked glory, as well as seen you breakdown on many occasions.

there really was no scaring him away.

matt pulled his face from your chest, propping himself up on his elbows. the chain he wore dangling in front of your face as his blue eyes stared into your brown ones. "yeah?" he said, a teasing tone in his voice as he tilted his head.

you could feel your face heat up as you rolled your eyes, lightly pushing his face away. "don't tease me, asshat." you pout, looking away from the boy above you.

matt laughed, moving his face back down to press kisses to the top of your breast, before peppering kisses to the valley of your breasts and up to your neck. "i love you," he whispered, pecking your lips before pulling back, sitting back on his heels.

"so when is the gathering?" you snort at his response, "we're not witches matthew, this isn't a coven." you roll your eyes playfully. "mm, could be," he tilts his head.

"it's in a few weeks," you mutter, sitting up and grabbing your phone. you unlock your phone and click on the group chat, seeing what was going on. you rolled your eyes at the chaos that were your cousins.

"fun," he mumbles. "now lay back down," he states, pushing you back down. you look up at him and raise a brow. matt gives a small smile and grabs the blanket, resuming his previous position, pulling the blanket over your bodies.

he pressed small kisses to the spots his lips could reach on your boobs.

"you're such a horny bitch," you laugh, running your fingers through his hair. matt hums and shakes his head, "i am not, i'm just affectionate." he mutters, looking up at you.

"mm, whatever helps you sleep at night, babe." you tease. matt nips at your skin and shakes his head.

the two of you walked hand in hand into your tías house. the foyer was big, decorated with art, that quite frankly you couldn't exactly say where she had gotten the pieces from.

"dios mío, mira cuánto has crecido desde él año," cindy gushes, walking towards you. she incapsulates you in her arms, giving you a good squeeze. "tía, esté es matt," you introduce the confused looking boy. "i've heard so much about you matthew," your tía speaks, her mexican accent thick.

she pulls the boy in for a hug, "so glad you could join us this year." before you knew it, she was dragging him towards the snacks. there had been an assortment of candies, as well as salty snacks. next to it was a drink table, which held different types of liquor for the adults, as well as juices and jarritos for the kids.

you were greeted by other family members as you followed your stolen boyfriend through the people. "tell me matthew," you heard your tío marco say, making your eyes widen as you rush over.

"tío, hi, so happy to see you," you squeak, interrupting, knowing that your tio had a nick for scaring the people you dated away, either that or embarrassing you.

"i was just saying that your boyfriend looks like a real gentleman," he says, slinging an arm around the boys shoulders. "he threaten you?" you ask, looking at matt. this earns a scoff, "now, would a sweet, loving tio do something like that?" he tsks.

he looks over at matt, "tell me son, would i do something like that?" he says, squeezing matt's shoulders. the boys eyes widened slightly, "u-um, no, no sir," he says.

you give your tío a glare. he simply smiles and claps matt on the back, "excellent, glad we're on the same page. now, tell me about yourself." "i'm a youtuber-" matt starts, but gets cut off by your younger cousin who had just walked up the table. "a youtuber?" she squealed with excitement, "no wonder you're so pretty."

"back off kid, this ones mine," you mumble at the ten-year-old, wrapping your arm around matt's waist.

"okay, okay, no need to get territorial," your tía says, pushing her daughter away, "now, matt, let's get you a drink." "i don't drink, i'm sober," he says quietly. she winks at the boy, tapping her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "i like you, that was a test, you passed," she stated, grabbing a jarritos. "have a jarritos."

"and for my favorite sobrina," she stated, pouring tequila into two shot glasses. "don't tell your mom about this," she says, handing you one. you took it with a grateful smile, "cheers to you having a good guy by your side for once," she laughed at the last part. the two of you clinked your shot cups together, throwing them back.

the alcohol burned going down, causing you to make a face. "you okay?" matt asks, his hand rubbing your back soothingly. "woah," you shake your head. "mhm, fine," you hum, answering him.

everyone was seated at the table, the children sitting at the kids table. a bowl of pozole sat in front of everybody, as well as a big plate with some elote on it. "what it this?" matt whispers, ducking his head down to talk to you quietly.

"soup," you say, "tía sofia will you pass me a few limes," you ask. she nods her head, passing the small bowl over for you to grab a few. "look," you tell matt, "like this."

you squeeze the lime into the dish, "or you could just put it on top if you want," you shrug. you stir it around, adding some lettuce and onion to yours. "it's not authentic if you leave out the beats," you cousin miles whispers to matt. "literally shut up, like who asked you?" you mumble quietly, not looking to cause a scene over something as stupid as the way you like your pozole.

"here, let's try a little," you tell him, holding a spoon up to his mouth. he opens his mouth and lets you feed him. his eyes boring into yours as you do, he hums when his mouth closes around the utensil.

you pull the spoon away from his mouth and place it down, "how is it?" you ask, grabbing a piece of elote. "elote will never not be good," you state, "pass me the tajin miles."

the black-haired boy complies, sliding the bottle over to you, the plastic clanging with your glass. "thank you." you open the container and sprinkle the seasoning over the cob.

"isn't that a bit much?" matt says, tilting his head. "white people," you mutter, shaking your head as you take a bite of the corn. "no, it's never a bit much," you say, licking the tajin from your fingers.

you look up and see the eyes of your cousin miles staring at you, "what?" you say, glaring at the boy. "you're mean to him, wonder how you've kept him so long." he was obviously trying to get under your skin, it was what miles did. it was like he lived to be able to piss you off whenever he saw you.

"oh yeah, you're the fucking expert in relationships," you say, rolling your eyes. "because you haven't been able to keep somebody for more then five months," you add, looking back down to the table.

"i'm not the one who cheated on her last boyfriend," he says, crossing his arms. "miles," your aunt warns, "not here." "literally a bullshit lie and you know it," you state, getting up, walking inside to the bathroom.

matt quickly followed, leaving behind a table of people that were shocked. he walked in, closing the door behind him, and locked it.

you stood at the sink, gripping the edge as tears filled your eyes. his arms were wrapped around you, "it's not true," you mumble shakily, "i-i didn't," you hiccup. matt shushed you, pulling you closer to him.

"i don't really care if you did," he shrugs, though he knows there would have been a tad bit of fear that it could happen to him. "you didn't," he says, "but even if you did, i don't care. because you're mine, and i love you." he turns you around, cupping your cheeks.

"let's get you cleaned up," he says, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off of your face. you lean into his touch, and nod. "is it normally like this?" he asks, pressing kisses into your hair.

"miles will do or say whatever it takes to get under my skin," you mumble, "he's an immature little boy who doesn't care who's relationships he hurts," you scoff.

matt hums, and holds you close.

"i don't deserve you," you mumble, shaking your head, "i'm a mess." "then i will gladly be a mess with you so we can do it together," he mutters. "let's go back," he says, and unlocks the door.

as soon as he did, your cousin was standing there. "tía wants me to apoligiz-" "save it," you cut him off, holding a hand to his face. you and matt walk back to the table; pan dulce, flan, and tres leches cake gathered in the center of the table.

"here," your tía hands matt a piece of pan dulce. "thanks," he says, smiling at the older woman. he took the sweetened bread from her hands, tearing it in half before handing you one side. he takes a small bite, melting into his chair. "good?" you giggle, glad that most of the family was having their own conversations.

"magical," he hums, "then taste, tres leches," you state, grabbing a small plate with a slice. "tres leches is the only birthday cake i allow," you say, a smile on your face as his eyes light up. "why does this taste better then actual cake?" "because it is," you and your tía selena state at the same time.

matt nods his head and eats his dessert, looking around at all the people. his blue eyes landing on a picture that was hung on the wall. it was a photo of your abuela, the woman who raised your mom. you followed his eyes, "she was an amazing woman," you state, nodding your head.

“she would have loved you if she had the chance to meet you,” you mumble, resting your chin on the palm of your hand.

he looks over at you and smiles, grabbing a piece of flan. he puts the spoon in his mouth and hums, looking at you with wide eyes. "what is this? how did i never know this existed?" "because you never dated a bad ass latina bitch before me," you giggle.

"that's a good point," he shrugs. "and yes, flan is the shit," you laugh, "i love me some caramelized milk." matt's brows furrowed, "milk?" you hum, "milk, sugar, and eggs," you nod.

matt nodded his head and looked back at the dessert. he scooped some more and ate it. by the end of the night, mostly everyone was telling matt what a great guy he was, telling him they'd hope to see him at my cousin delorese quinceañera.

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi

[mrsparrasblog]

MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER FINAL PART (PRICE ENDING) 

TW: Blood, dead

previous part part one

As Price watched your wedding from afar, a thousand thoughts swept through him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for the moments he had missed in your life, the milestones he hadn't been there to witness. But amidst the regret, there was love and pride in seeing you so radiant, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. You grew up to be a beautiful woman like he always imagined; you were graceful, confident, and full of joy. If this wedding were just something different, something he could be happy about, god, he would rather have married you off to some bloke than a fucking terrorist.

His mind raced with thoughts of how he could have intervened earlier and how he could have protected you from falling into the hands of a man like Vladimir Makarov. Yet he knew deep down that you were strong, resilient, and had made your own choices, even if they weren't the ones he would have wanted for you. Thoughts flowed through his brain: did you choose him freely? Did you know what Makarov was? Why did you vanish from the world? You probably had Stockholm syndrome; there wouldn’t be a chance in hell that his sweet, smart girl fell in love willingly with a man like Makarov.

As he wiped away his tears, Price made a silent vow to himself. He may not have been your protector in the past, but he would be damned if he didn't become your guardian now.

He waited what felt like ages for him to finally see you for a second alone. You were headed to the bathroom, and the wide wedding dress mopped the floor. Makarov was speaking to some politicians, and that was his only chance. He gave Ghost the agreed signal: don’t hurt Civis; kill that bastard and save you.

He heard you vomiting, so he walked inside the bathroom. He already knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to think or even believe this, there was a different time to sort out that problem.

You turned around, being sure that Vlad had intruded on your space. He was always so overprotective, but you knew he would be even worse after this news, but did you really mind? 

You gasped as you saw him—your father. He looked older than you remembered; he had more wrinkles, worried eyes, and a completely unshaven beard. "Dad?“

"Oh God, Sweetie, “ he said, almost running the few steps over to you. He embraced you in a tight hug, trying his best to hide his tears. Everyone believed you were dead; they wanted him to mourn you, hold a wake to you, and finally declare you dead but he knew you were alive, and now you stood there in front of him, with a confused look in your beautiful eyes—but alive.

"I didn't think you would make it, Dad,“ you said bluntly while mustering him. It had been so long since you last saw him.

"Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?“ He started to grab your arms, pulling the sleeves up, looking for any bruises or any indication that Makarov had hurt you. God, he personally wanted to gut that bastard out.

"No Dad, Im fine; Vlad would never hurt me.“ 

"He is a terrorist, Sweetie; he kills for money.“

"I know, but he has his reasons, Dad. He never would hurt me or do something bad without a reason.“

He looked towards you with a saddened expression, taking your delicate hands in his calloused ones. "Look, I get it. You had a rough time, didn’t you? Your head tricked you into thinking that you love him and that he is this prince from a fairytale, but he isn't; none of this is real.“ 

You were fuming at this accusation. How had he the audacity on your wedding day?"I'm not stupid, Dad.“

"You're not stupid; you’re brave.“

"He doesn’t hurt me; he protects me and takes care of me, Dad.“

"And what if he changes his mind? If you’ll be the victim of his actions? Please see reason.“

"At least he doesn’t leave me all the time." Spite and pure spite made you say these words: You always loved your dad more than anything else in your life, but he left you; he loved Tina more; he never cared about you; at least that's what you thought.

"Im sorry- I really am for being such a shitty Dad to you, but I love you more than anything, and I know you deserve a better old man, but you also deserve better than marrying a man who isn’t capable of loving. Come home with me; I divorced your stepmom; I will retire okay; no more deployment; no more war; just you and me and Tina if she wants to stay with us,“ he pleaded. He wanted you so bad to agree.

"Dad, I can't; I'm pregnant." You told him the news, and you were sure he would give up by that, but his expression didn’t change, almost as if he already knew.

"Sweetie, I'll help you, okay? And you can still see Vlad just come home, even if it's just for a bit, okay?“ He didn’t know how to help you anymore; besides lying to you, he knew it would stain your relationship even more, but right now, everything that counted was to have you leave this place.“

"You really would.“

"Of course.“ 

"Thank you, Dad,“ you mumbled and stood up on your way to leave the bathroom to tell Vlad that your Dad kinda accepts him for the baby's sake.

"Wait“

"Hm?“

"Let your old man hug you,“ with that, he pulled you into one of his famous bear hugs, softly stroking your beautiful hair.

When you left the bathroom, you saw Vlad, the supposed love of your life, your husband limp on the ground. The guards lay dead in different corners, and the wedding party was gone. You were only gone for 20 minutes, and everything was ruined.

You ran over to Vlad, hugging his limp body, trying to search for a pulse or anything but gone. You pressed his body closer to yours, and your eyes slowly started to build tears. The sobs only grew louder as you mumbled I love you all over and over again in Russian to him. You weren’t even sure if you were able to tell him that you loved him, and now he is gone. „You lied to me, Dad,“ was all you said to the military man in front of you, who looked at you like you were a zoo animal. Your white dress had already turned the prettiest shade of maroon.

Your Dad walked towards you, trying to pick you up, but you didn’t want to leave Vlad's body. 

"He is dead, Sweetie.“ he crunched next to you.

"You lied to me.“

"I know,“ he picked you up, ignoring your protest, but he also held you the whole night while you cried in his arms, not for one second judging you that you fell in love with Vlad, never dismissing your grief; he was for once in your life there for you.

————————————

1 year later 

You moved in with your Dad again, he indeed retired from the military. His friend and aunt Kate helped at first, but now you managed, even got your old job back that you loved so much. Your Dad sent you to therapy, and after a while, you got it—this wasn’t love, this was fear—and you're free now. This made you resent the baby inside your belly first, but when little James was born, everything was different, and you didn’t connect him with Vlad.

You were afraid your Dad wouldn’t accept little James, but he did. He carried him proudly around, showing it off to his old squad, especially the new Captain of the squad, Captain MacTavish, or anything like that. Your Dad always carried a pacifier in his bag, always a picture of James, Tina, and you in his wallet. He was finally at peace, and so were you.

The End

So this is Price ending , its the first fanfic Drabble whatever I finished, and through the whole process I thought what if my reader don't like the ending, what if its lame or anything but then I thought you don't need always Drama for a good fic or an different love interest ending, sometimes the ending is just good because she finally has what she always craved a family bond.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride , @paintlavillered

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 4

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Tuesday)

Masterlist

"It was so weird, mum... Like, the moment I mentioned his agency, he went all serious and then avoided my question. And before that, he didn't smile like he usually does."

"Since when do you pay attention to the way Mason smiles?" Elizabeth chuckled.

"That's a really good question" Adele thought. "Anyway, do you think... Could an agency do that? Call the paps on one of their clients as some kind of revenge?"

After the chaos at the airport, she and Mason had talked about who could have tipped off the photographers. The only people who knew they were flying that day were their brothers, Jourdan and his agency, and the first three would never say anything. The others... 

"That's too twisted" Elizabeth said. "But I know they've called them without letting their client know because it made the photos look more natural, like actual candids."

"Did that ever happen to you and dad?"

"Never. We were stalked, followed everywhere, harassed... But my agency always protected me."

Adele's parents hadn't had it easy. Her father was the heir of a very important family in the US and was considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, and when the press had found out that they were dating, they had gone crazy. Both had been followed everywhere they went, their faces being on all the magazines. The supermodel and the heir, most headlines would say. And his family didn't like it. 

They considered Elizabeth not enough for their son, and had done everything in their power to make them break up. When they got engaged after years of dating, his family hadn't met her yet, and when Adele's dad took Elizabeth's last name instead of being the other way around, they even threatened him with disinheriting him. But they fought for their love despite everything and everyone, and they still were together, happier than ever.   

"So you don't think Mason's agency could have done it?" 

"I don't, no" Elizabeth said. "But less talking about pretty boys and annoying paparazzis, and more about this!" she said, gesturing towards their car's window.

Between Jourdan, Mason and her mum constantly sending her photos of their old trips together, Adele had finally said yes to going to Paris. She would be joining her backstage at the couple of shows she was walking, attending one as a guest with her, and a couple of parties too. Would she end up regretting it? Probably. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I am so glad you accepted our invitation, Adele" said Maria Grazia Chiuri, Dior's creative director, when she met them for their fitting. 

"Thank you for inviting me" she smiled.

"I myself have picked some looks for you that I think will be perfect."

"Oh, wow. That's so kind."

"Anything for you, girls."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Red or black?" Elizabeth asked while looking at herself in the mirror.

"Black" Adele and Maria Grazia said at the same time. 

"Black it is."

"Adele, now that I have you here, I have to ask again. Are you sure you wouldn't like to join your mum for our mother's day campaign? It would be just a one time thing."

"I'm sorry, Maria Grazia. But being in front of the camera isn't my thing."

"Then what about behind the camera?"

"What?" Adele said.

"Oh, that's an amazing idea! You could take my photos!" Elizabeth said while getting changed.

"Mum, I'm not a professional photographer. There are better people for that than me."

"It wouldn't be as special, tho. And a daughter taking photos of her mother would also work for our campaign" Maria Grazia said.

"I don't think it is a good idea. What would the photographer you hired say?"

"If I explain it to him, he'll understand. Why don't I ask someone from my team to send you the mood board for the campaign so you can get an idea of what we want?"

"And Addie could send your photographer some of her photos so you know what she can do" Elizabeth added.

"Perfect!" Maria Grazia said, not allowing Adele to protest.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I think someone fancies you."

"What?" Adele said. She and Elizabeth had been in Paris for a few days already, everything going pretty well keeping in mind what had been going on back home and in New York. Paparazzis bothered them the usual during fashion week, and all the headlines were about her and her mum, their outfits, and how much they were loving that they were finally doing fashion stuff together.

That night, they were attending a Vogue party where they were joined by people she only saw on Instagram. Models, musicians, actors... Even a couple of football players too. 

"That cute guy over there" Elizabeth said, nodding towards her left. "He can't stop looking at you."

"Who... What..." she said, slowly turning around to look at him. When they eyes met, he smiled at her, and Adele heard herself giggling. He had a dimple on his left cheek, just like Mason did. Mason...

"Go talk to him."

"What?"

"C'mon" her mum said, pushing her towards him.

"But I don't know who he is.”

"An actor from one of those superhero movies. Now go."

"But..."

"Hello there" the cute guy said, his dimple showing in all its glory once again.

"Hi."

"You are Adele Turlington, right?"

"Yep. And you are... Sorry, I'm really bad with names" she smiled, hoping her lie would work.

"Nico Evans."

"Nico, yes, of course! I was thinking about your character's name and I didn't want to say something stupid."

"Nah, it's ok. I'm used to it" he smiled again. God, he was cute. "Would you like to grab a drink?"

"I would love that." 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"What time is it?" Adele yawned.

"Too early. Go back to sleep" Nico whispered.

"Then why are you leaving?"

"Because I am attending a show in an hour, and I haven't showered or got changed" he chuckled.

"Oh..."

"Would you like to meet again?" Nico said after finishing tying up his shoes. "Maybe for lunch? I'm leaving tonight."

"I... I can't. My mum and I are meeting some friends of hers that we haven't seen in ages and..."

"Oh, it's ok. Don't worry" Nico smiled, that dimple he shared with Mason showing up again. Why was she thinking about him again? "Maybe another time."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Thank you for last night, Adele. That was... That was amazing. Definitely a highlight of my fashion week" he smirked.

"You're welcome" she giggled, feeling her cheeks get warm.

"Good bye, Miss Turlington. See you soon" he said, giving her a peck.

"Good bye, Mr. Evans" she replied.

[httpsdana]

𝐔𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬~𝐀 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐧 𝐓𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟏𝟑

summary: Barça players and talented footballers. Souls meet and sparks fly. But there's always a twist when it comes to love isn't there?

pairing: Ferran Torres x Gonzalez!Reader

warnings: cursing, slight age gap, angst

previous part

Gavi didn't snitch. He actually managed to keep his mouth shut. But the guilt was eating him from the inside. He couldn't keep this kind of secret from his best friend, when his other best friend is.

If Pedri found out that Gavi knew and didn't tell him, he's not gonna like it. So Gavi decided he wanted to tell Pedri, but in an indirect way so that Ferran doesn't know it was him.

"Pedri! can we go to your house and play Fifa after training?" Pablo said, getting Pedri's attention

Pedri smiled and nodded. "sure invite Ferran too" he said.

"why don't you also invite your sister?" Gavi suggested. Pedri looked at him suspiciously raising his eyebrow for an explanation

"I-I didn't mean it like that . I meant that she seemed to enjoy her time with us last time so she might as well enjoy it this time" Pablo stuttered, looking everywhere but Pedri's eyes.

Pedri nodded slowly, shaking the bad thoughts from his head.

"yeah I'll tell her too. Oh Ferran! down for some Fifa after training?" Pedri said, as soon as he saw Ferran

Ferran was about to nicely decline, when Pablo spoke up first

"y/n is gonna be there" he said. Ferran glared at him, before he looked at Pedri who was giving Gavi a weird look

"um...yeah sure" Ferran couldn't refuse a chance to see his girlfriend who he only lastly saw once after their breakfast.

"great. I'll take you with me then" Pedri smiled, before walking away on the pitch

"what are you trying to do?" Ferran said to Gavi, stepping closer to him

Gavi took a step back and shook his head.

"nothing. i just knew you wouldn't have came if y/n wasn't there am I not right?" he raised his eyebrow.

Ferran rolled his eyes, walking away too.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

"I'm here. where are you?" y/n asked, rolling her eyes at her twin brother.

"we just got out of training. we'll be there in about 5 minutes only. just wait" Pedri said annoyed through the phone.

y/n hung up, and waited for Pedri to arrive so she can enter his apartment.

After waiting for a while, Pedri finally arrived with Ferran and Gavi trailing behind him.

y/n smiled at them, giving each a hug before Pedri opened the door and they stepped inside.

"what's with you inviting me to every hang out with your friends anyways?" y/n asked Pedri when Ferran and Gavi entered to the living room

"they enjoy your company, and seems you are too so why not" Pedri shrugged, before following his friends to the living room.

y/n went to the kitchen to grab a cup of water. With her back turned to the door, she filled up her cup, not noticing Ferran arriving behind her, until he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. y/n almost yelled before she noticed the rings that made her know it was Ferran.

"Fer, you scared me" she giggled silently, turning to look at him. He smiled, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. As soon as their lips touched, y/n pulled away, making Ferran pout.

"Pedri might come here any second" she said in a low voice. Ferran's pout deepened, making her heart melt at his expression.

His puppy eyes were irresistible, so she pecked his lips a few time, making him smile.

"just go. Pedri is here" she pushed him away. He grinned before kissing her quickly and running back to the living room

She shook her head with a smile, drinking her cup of water before following him to the living room.

They played some Fifa, making teams of two, with y/n and Ferran on one team, and Pedri with Pablo on another one.

"you're such losers" y/n chuckled, as her and Ferran beat the other boys in another game

"you two play Fifa the best, it's not even fair to have you on the same team" Pedri complained, y/n stuck her tongue out at him, making him push her shoulder.

"I'm gonna use the bathroom, try to find a team that you can beat us with" y/n grinned, before getting up from her seat

Ferran waited for a while, before he spoke up

"I'm gonna get some water" he said.

Pedri hummed, while he was too focused on the game, and Pablo nodded his head, watching Ferran's moves. He saw that he didn't go in the direction of the kitchen, and instead to the hallway where the bathroom was.

Pablo wanted to think quick of a way Pedri can follow the other two without making it obvious.

Meanwhile, Ferran knocked on the door of the bathroom. "just a second" y/n said from inside.

Ferran waited until she opened the door, and when she did, he didn't let her out and instead pushed her back inside and closed the door behind him.

His hands quickly reached down to her waist. y/n giggled silently, when Ferran lifted her and sat her on the big bathroom sink, getting between her legs while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"what's are you doing?" she said, still grinning at his movements

Ferran didn't reply, only pressed his lips against hers, kissing her deeply to stop her from talking. y/n was taken back by his sudden action, but soon started kissing him back with the same force.

Pablo wanted Pedri to get up immediately without him knowing why. So he got up to kitchen and grabbed a knife, he cut his finger a bit until there was blood gushing out of it.

Pablo winced, walking back to the living room while holding his bleeding finger

"hey Pedri, can you get me a bandage, my finger is bleeding" Pablo said in a pained voice.

"y/n is still in the bathroom, just wait until she's out, the first aid kit is in there" Pedri said, not tearing his eyes away from the game he was playing

"she's out already, come on my finger is actually hurting" Gavi said.

Pedri looked at him, and noticed the blood on his finger. He got up and walked to the bathroom, without even knocking, he barged through the door.

y/n and Ferran jumped at the sudden opening of the door, then realizing Pedri's presence when he yelled.

"what the actual fuck is going on here?!" he yelled. He pushed Ferran off y/n, making him hit the wall.

y/n's eyes widened at Pedri's anger, feeling her heart beating rapidly as she stood back on the floor

"Pedri it's not what it looks like" she raised her voice, while Pedri looked at her with pure anger and hate.

"you're fucking making out with my best friend, what the hell y/n?!" he walked closer to her, while she stepped back.

Gavi now appeared behind Pedri, glad his plan worked but he also hated that he had to ruin many things like Ferran and Pedri's friendship, and most likely the relationship of Ferran and y/n

"mate just calm down so we can tell you what happened" Ferran said, stepping closer to Pedri.

Pedri glared at him, raising a warning finger at him.

"if you take a step closer I'm punching you in the face. get the fuck out of my house" Pedri said through gritted teeth.

y/n motioned for Ferran to go, knowing that Pedri would actually punch him.

At this moment she wish she could just go back in time and tell Ferran no. She ruined her brother's best friendship, and she hated herself for that.

"and you, you better not appear in front of me again. I don't ever wanna see your face fucking again" he said to y/n.

y/n swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Gavi take her away from here" Pedri said

Gavi nodded, and Pedri left the bathroom. y/n felt her tears starting to fall,dropping to ground, and soon started sobbing. Pablo felt guilty, for making the twins fight.

He walked closer to her, putting his hand on her shoulder while she was sat in the ground of the bathroom. She looked up at him, seeing his bleeding finger. She wiped her tears and got the first aid kit, helping him clean his cut and put a bandage on it.

"let me take you home yeah?" he said softly.

y/n nodded, walking to the living room where Pedri was. He looked up at her with despise. y/n wanted to start crying all over again at the look on his face. She never thought she'd see her twin hating her like he did at this moment.

She grabbed her phone and keys, before walking out the door, with Pablo behind her. He took the car keys from her, telling her that he'll drive instead.

The drive was silent, while y/n was trying her best to keep her tears in.

"I'm sorry y/n" Pablo mumbled, making y/n shake her head. He was apologizing for what he did, while she didn't know it. She thought he was just being sympathetic.

"it's not your fault, I should've seen it coming" she mumbled back, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

Gavi sighed, only hoping that the friendship and siblings relationship that he ruined will be fixed soon enough.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (2)

Youth

Lady Arianwyn and Prince Aemond grow up side-by-side.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Author's Note: This chapter is entirely new! The old chapter 2 will be back later as chapter 3. Also, I have not been around babies or toddlers or even kids under 10 since I was that age myself, so if I got any childhood development facts wrong, just pretend that I didn't!

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Only four days after Prince Aemond Targaryen saw his eleventh moon, he took his first steps. It was a matter of necessity. His nursemaid had set him on the nursery floor too far from Aria – all the way on the other side of the rug!

He did not really know who Aria was.

He did not know that her full name was ‘Arianwyn,’ for everyone only called her Aria – except for the large men in bronze suits, who called her ‘Lady,’ or sometimes “Little Lady.” He did not know that she was his cousin, as he did not know what a cousin was. He did not know that she had not always been with him or that she was younger than him, for he had no memories without her there.

All he knew was that Aria was always there, and he was always with her.

But in that moment, she was too far away. He took one look at Aria’s sad and confused face, and he knew he needed to get to her. If he didn’t do it soon, she would start to cry. He hated it when she cried. It made him want to cry.

So, he started crawling toward her. Slowly, he was moving too slowly. She looked more and more like she was going to cry, and Aemond decided there wouldn’t be anything worse in the world.

He pushed his arms against the floor, bracing himself as he raised up onto his legs, as the bigger people did. When he lifted his arms again, he saw Aria staring at him, no longer looking like she was about to cry. While he was glad, he still wanted to go to her.

“Hurry, get the queen!”

Aemond remembered that last word, ‘queen.’ He heard it a lot when his second-favorite person was around. Was she here, too?

He turned his head to look at the part of the wall where people came through but didn’t see anyone. The turn cost him, though. His legs grew wobbly, and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he was going to fall. He couldn’t prevent the fall, but maybe he could control it.

His arms flailing, Aemond leaned forward and took three steps closer to Aria before he fell on his face.

Three steps were enough, though. Aria had crawled forward to meet him in the middle of the rug, a wide smile on her face as she squealed with delight. Tears had already sprung to Aemond’s eyes from his fall, but when he looked at Aria, he forgot why he had wanted to cry.

“Aria!”

“Aymmmmmuh!”

Aemond knew words now – several of them. It infuriated Arianwyn. Especially when his favorite word was her name, and she could not say his back.

She knew his name. Whenever someone said “Aemond,” she knew they were talking about him. She just couldn’t get the word out. The first part, the “ay” sound, she usually got right, but it always fell apart from there.

The worst part was seeing his frustration when she failed, yet again, to say his name. She wanted Aemond to like her – needed him to like her.

He wasn’t like Aegon, who was too big and played in ways she couldn’t, or Helaena, who barely liked to play at all. They weren’t even there most of the time. They were big enough to leave the nursery and go to different places like “garden” or “great hall.”

But Aemond was perfect. He played exactly how she liked, and though he was bigger than her, he never played too roughly. When Aunt – who Aemond called “mama” – took Aegon and Helaena out of the nursery, he stayed with her. He always stayed with her. Even when they were in their cradles, she could still see him from across the room.

“Aymmnuh,” she tried again. And failed again.

Aemond frowned and shook his head. “No.”

Another favorite word of his – Aegon taught it to him. Arianwyn huffed, the sound echoed by the hatchling dragon sunning itself in the window.

Some weeks prior, she had woken in the hour of the wolf to find that the egg that had lain in her cradle had shattered. Shards of black speckled with storm gray and ice blue were strewn across her blanket, and the comforting heat she had grown accustomed to warming herself against was gone. As she began to cry, she noticed a shape looming over her, perched on the edge of her cradle.

The night nurses screamed, shouting at the guards outside the door. Both the man in red and black and the man in bronze looked at her and the dark shape at her feet with wide eyes before running down the corridor so fast their clanging armor sounded like a thunderstorm.

The noise woke Aemond, who looked from Arianwyn to the shape that had leaned down to peer at her. “Dwa- dwagon!”

Arianwyn watched as it jumped down from its perch. She could barely make out the shape in the darkness and against the deep brown of her fur blankets. It did look like the toys they played with that the others called “dragon.” Two membranous wings, a thin, flicking tail, a long neck covered with small spines, and eyes like living ice.

It moved cautiously as it approached her until she could see the faint lines of gray and white within its blue eyes—a dragon. Her dragon.

As she now frowned at Aemond, her dragon was sprawled on the stone of the windowsill, wings spread lazily as it echoed her frustration without even opening its eyes.

“Dragon!” Aemond exclaimed.

“Muhmuhnd!” She was so close, she knew it. She had all the pieces. She just needed to put them together. “Ay!”

Aemond stared at her, a hint of a smile on his face from knowing she was about to try again.

“Ay!” Her face was scrunched in determination as she shouted. The nurses paused their work and looked at her as well.

“Ay-muh!”

Aemond started clapping. One of the nurses whispered to another before slipping out the door.

“Ay-muhn!”

In the window, Arianwyn’s dragon sat up, small clouds of smoke puffing from his nostrils as it began to climb down from the window.

“Ay-muhn-duh! Aemond!”

One of the nurses pressed a hand to her chest and said a word Arianwyn didn’t know. The others started rushing around. But Arianwyn didn’t care. She was looking at Aemond, who clapped and smiled wider than she had ever seen.

“Aemond!” She shouted again, delighting in his responding laugh.

He pointed at her. “Aria!”

“Aemond!”

“Aria!”

“Aemond!”

There was a new baby in the nursery—two, actually, but Daeron had already been there for four moons, so his novelty had worn off.

Aemond and Arianwyn sat together on one end of the room, watching as he was held by his mother, Rhaenyra, who was also Aemond’s sister. That made him Aemond’s nephew, the nurses had explained.

They had also explained what he was to Aria, but he didn’t quite understand it, as it was somehow much more complicated. Aegon said he understood, and Helaena had nodded, which meant she probably understood, too. She didn’t talk much, and when she did, it never made much sense.

Aegon also explained that the new babe, whose name was “Jacaerys,” but everyone just called “Jace,” was something called a bastard. It meant that Jace’s father wasn’t his father; some other man was. But that didn’t make sense. Rhaenyra was married to Laenor, which meant Laenor was Jace’s father, for the Mother only gave babes to people who were married and very much in love.

When Aemond had asked more about it, Aegon rolled his eyes and said, “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

It was something that was often said to Aemond and Arian, and they did not like it very much. They would have to wait a long time to be older, and they didn’t want to wait.

They also did not like that they were not allowed to play with Jace as they did with Daeron. Rhaenyra said they were “too big.” But when they asked Rhaenyra if she would play with them while Jace was sleeping, she also said no, even though she was definitely big enough. She only ever came to the nursery when Jace was awake and left the moment he fell asleep.

Aemond decided he did not like Rhaenyra.

She had never come to see him, or Aegon, or Helaena, or Aria before Jace was born. Now that she had finally come, she all but ignored them. When they tried to talk to her, she seemed annoyed. Worst of all, he had seen her giving Aria a mean look several times.

His mother did not get along with Rhaenyra very well, so he assumed it was fine not to like her.

However, his father loved Rhaenyra. He came to visit her and her babe often, which would annoy Aemond if it didn’t also mean he got to see his father more.

Since his father was the king, he was very busy and didn’t always have time to see his children in the nursery. But now that the nursery was very full with six children, he made the time, Aemond’s grandsire, who was also the Hand of the King, said.

The king spent most of his time with Jace, but that was probably because Jace was the newest. He still held Daeron, played with Arianwyn and her dragon, complimented Helaena’s insects, admired Aemond's drawings, ruffled Aegon’s hair, and read them all stories from Old Valyria – the fantastical empire where their ancestors were from.

Aemond loved those stories. So did Aria. They tried to memorize them so they could tell them to each other whenever the king wasn’t there. Sometimes, they even acted out some of the stories, with Helaena, Daeron, and several of Aria’s attendants–including her lady’s maid, Brynna, and any number of her twelve guards–as their audience.

Her attendants also told them stories about Aria’s other ancestors, the Bronze Kings. Before there were any Targaryens or Dragons in Westeros, the Bronze Kings ruled over Runestone. One day, Aria would, too.

They didn’t know what Aemond would do. He was a prince, but he wasn’t the heir. There weren’t many stories about second sons. Whenever they asked, they were again told, “You’ll understand when you’re older.” But they never worried for long. There were lots of other exciting things to think about, like when Aemond’s dragon egg would hatch.

Arianwyn looked around the large room with wide eyes. She had never been to this room before, even though she had now been to many different rooms in the Red Keep. At least Aemond was there, so she wasn’t alone. Still, she wished she had been allowed to bring her dragon – which she had named ‘Emrys’ after a recent visit from her cousin, Ser Gerold.

Brynna was also there, but she sat in a chair by the door sewing something, so she couldn’t hold Arianwyn’s hand. Aemond did so happily. She was pretty sure he was also nervous. His eyes were moving all around the room, too. But his face didn’t look afraid.

Aegon was also there, but Arianwyn didn’t find comfort in his presence. Ever since Aegon left the nursery, he became mean. He was never very nice, but Arianwyn never thought he had been mean. He liked to make jokes that were not very funny, but he laughed anyway.

Most of the jokes were about Aemond and how his egg hadn’t hatched. It didn’t make much sense to Arianwyn, as Aegon’s egg hadn’t hatched either. But he had just returned from a trip to Dragonstone – their family’s other castle – with a hatchling from a different egg. He named it Sunfyre, because it was gold and pink and shiny.

Helaena also went, and though she did not find a dragon from Dragonstone, when she went with their father and Aegon to show Sunfyre the Dragonpit, she met Dreamfyre, who was once ridden by Princess Rhaena, their grandfather’s sister. Helaena and Dreamfyre bonded almost instantly, and the king was very happy.

Aemond and Arianwyn hadn’t been allowed to go along to Dragonstone at all. Arianwyn, because she was too little and already had a dragon, and Aemond, just because he was too little. He had been sad since then, and nothing Arianwyn did seemed to cheer him up for very long.

She squeezed his hand a little, causing him to look at her, his face still empty. “Are you excited?"

At the other end of the table, Aegon scoffed. “There’s nothing to be excited about, trust me.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. The first time she did it, it annoyed Aegon, so now she did it whenever possible. “I’m excited. I want to learn everything!”

The corner of Aemond’s mouth quirked up as if he would smile. But it fell back when Aegon started talking again. “You want to learn ‘everything?’ Perhaps you should become a maester, then.”

His tone was mocking, but Arianwyn considered the possibility. The maesters had the biggest library at the Citadel in Oldtown. Perhaps she should be a master; then, she could read all the stories she wanted. But that would require her to be in Oldtown, which was very far away from Runestone.

“Can I be a maester and Lady of Runestone?” she asked.

It went completely silent. Then, Brynna sighed sadly in the corner, and Aegon started laughing.

Arianwyn’s stomach sank. Had she said something wrong? She looked around, hoping someone else would tell her why Aegon was laughing. But Brynna just looked tired, and her guard for the day, Ser Warren, looked like he was hurting, or maybe had smelled something bad. Either way, his face was all scrunched up.

“Shut up!” Aemond shouted, startling her enough that she clapped her hands over her ears. He glared at his brother, his face reddened and angry. “Don’t laugh at her!”

Aegon kept laughing. Aemond kept shouting. Ser Christor looked like he was about to panic. Brynna abandoned her sewing and ran to calm everyone down, but it didn’t work. Tears started to sting behind Arianwyn’s eyes, so she shut them tight, ducked her chin, and shook her head back and forth. That always made the nightmares go away. Maybe it would make this go away, too.

Suddenly, Aegon’s laughing and Aemond’s shouting stopped. She lifted her hands away from her ears and opened her eyes just enough to see Maester Orwyle entering the room.

“Prince Aegon, perhaps it would be wise to keep your lessons separate from Prince Aemond and Lady Arianwyn’s.” His voice was just as gentle as when he came to the nursery when one of them was sick, but Aegon still scowled at him. “Unless you would prefer to repeat the fundamentals of the curriculum?”

Aegon pushed his chair away from the table so fast it fell over and gave a smile that made Arianwyn nervous. “I don’t give a fuck.”

Ser Christor’s eyes went wide. Brynna gasped and put a hand on her chest. Aegon didn’t acknowledge them before stomping out of the room.

After the door slammed shut, Orwyle sighed. He smiled at Aemond and Arianwyn, but it seemed fake. “I am very excited you two are beginning your lessons; you have always been curious.”

He sat at the table across from them and opened a large, messy book. “Before we begin, do you have any questions about how lessons work?”

Aemond said nothing, pouting, as he often did around Aegon, with his arms crossed.

Arianwyn raised her hand above her head. “Grand Maester, what is a ‘fuck?’”

“Just grab it!”

“It’s too high!”

Arianwyn huffed, crossing her arms as she looked up at Aemond, standing atop a chair trying to reach a large leather-bound book. “Do you want me to try?”

“No!” Aemond’s face reddened. “I can do it. Besides, you’re shorter than me – how could you reach it if I can’t?”

She thought for a moment. If Emrys lived in the Keep, she could have him pry the book out, but he was in the Dragonpit now. Even after three moons, she still woke, expecting to find him tucked against her chest, fast asleep.

But he’d gotten too big to stay in the castle, and Arianwyn had to take him to the Dragonpit. The king and Aemond went with her and helped her with her High Valyrian while she explained to Emrys that he had to stay there now. It didn’t stop him from flying back to the castle for the first fortnight, but he eventually learned to stay in his den.

“I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “Maybe I’ll have an idea if I get on the chair.”

Aemond shook his head, his brow set. “No, you could fall.” Before she could get her next argument out, he continued, “I can do it. Watch.”  

He braced one hand on the edge of the shelf while the other just skimmed the spine of the book they were trying to reach, then jumped. Arianwyn called his name, certain he would fall and hurt himself or even destroy the book.

But then, Aemond was again standing steady on the chair, the book in his hands and a happy grin.

“You did it!” The very moment he was off the chair, Arianwyn hugged him tightly. He could not hug her back with the heavy book in his hands, so he just dropped his head on her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go read!”

She dragged him back to the table in the small alcove, where they had already set out pen and paper. Once Aemond had set the book down and opened it to the first page, she picked up the pen and got ready to write.

“Before the Andu-Andals came to Westeros, and long before Aegon Targaryen con… conchu… um…”

Arianwyn pointed to the word he struggled with. “Conquered. Remember how he’s called ‘Aegon the Conqueror?’”

Aemond’s cheeks flushed. “Yeah, I know. Con-kerd. I was just…making sure I was saying it right.”

She didn’t quite believe him, but she didn’t want to correct him either, so she gave him a smile and nodded for him to continue.

“…before Aegon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms with his dragons, the lands were inhuh- inhah… inhabee...”

Arianwyn again pointed at the book. “‘In-hah-bih-ted.’ I’ve heard it before but can’t remember what it means. Do you?”

“I…” He slumped, looking pointedly away from her. “No, I don’t.”

They both looked at the book for a moment before Arianwyn handed the pen and paper to Aemond. “Write it down,” she instructed. “In our lessons with Orwyle tomorrow, we can ask him.”

Aemond looked from the book to the paper, then slid the book to her. It made more sense this way, Arianwyn thought. She was better at pronouncing big words, and he was better at writing things down so they would be ‘legible,’ a word Orwyle said but had never really explained.

“In-hah-bih-ted,” Aemond said as he wrote the word down. He whispered the pronunciation a few more times before looking back at Arianwyn. “I’m ready for more.”

She smiled broadly before looking at the page again. “The lands were inhabited by the First Men, who had built mighty kingdoms that…”

When he was younger, Aemond used to look at the Dragonpit from the seat at the nursery window. For hours, he would dream about one day walking through its mighty doors, mounting his own dragon, and finally claiming his birthright as a Targaryen prince.

Now, he had half a mind to tear down those doors himself.

The task would be far easier with the assistance of a dragon, however, which at the age of eight, Aemond still did not have.

Aegon and Helaena did. His bastard nephews did, somehow. Arianwyn did. But Aemond did not.

Still, he was forced to attend lessons with the Dragonkeepers, watching the others and only imagining doing the same with his own dragon. It wasn’t so bad when Aria was with him. Aegon made jokes, but stopped when she snapped back at him. After that, he would target their nephews. Aemond sometimes even laughed with him.

But then, during one lesson, Dreamfyre snapped at the younger dragons as they pranced around her. She did not cause any physical harm, but Vermax refused to leave his den for days, and Sunfyre would splay out on all fours the moment he saw the mighty she-dragon and stay that way until she left.

After that, the Dragonkeepers decided it prudent to separate Dreamfyre from the younger dragons. Not entirely, for she needed to learn to tolerate them before they could all fly together. She would continue to train with only one – Emrys.

It made sense. Emrys annoyed Dreamfyre the least. And when Aegon made Aria mad, the black dragon would often snap at Sunfyre.

So, Aemond was left to face the torment of being a Targaryen without a dragon alone.

Without Aria there to stop him, Aegon redoubled his teasing. Worse still, the bastards figured out that if they followed Aegon’s lead and made their own jokes at Aemond’s expense, he would not make jokes about them.

The Dragonpit, once a source of hope and inspiration, was now Aemond’s hell.

It started with small, simple japes or whispered comments about his lack of a dragon. But over time, it worsened.

The remarks became crueler and, sometimes, included a crudeness that rankled Aemond. “It’s still good practice for you,” Aegon said. “Even without a dragon, you’ll still need to know how to ride whatever beast mother sends you off to marry.”

The jokes evolved past mere verbal mockery. Once, Aegon and his bastard lackeys had an old saddle that one of their ancestors had used brought in. For Aemond to practice his riding stance, they said. But when he took the seat, he found himself sitting atop a pile of dragon dung they had placed in the saddle and concealed with a sheet of burlap.

He never should have trusted them. He knew it.

But he wanted to.

He wanted to practice his riding stance, to finally sit in a dragon’s saddle, even if it was on the ground rather than an actual dragon. He wanted to feel reins in his hand and imagine the wind flowing past him. And a part of him even wanted to be friends with his brother and nephews.

That small, weak part of him was soon thoroughly snuffed out.

Just after his ninth nameday, Aemond was approached by Aegon and their nephews. He’d long since vowed not to trust them, but his brother’s words shot through his defenses like Valyrian steel through armor.

“Let’s go get you a dragon, brother.”

“What?” Aemond’s heart stopped in his chest. Had one of the she-dragons laid a new clutch of eggs, or had one of the eggs in the warming chamber hatched? Perhaps a new wild dragon had been spotted?

“Look, you’ve just celebrated your nameday,” there was something genuine in Aegon’s voice, unbelievable as it was. He set a hand on Aemond’s shoulder, but it didn’t reassure him as much as it unsettled him. “You’re nearly a man. And you’ve been training with the Dragonkeepers for so long that you’re more than ready to try and claim a dragon. Unless you’re still waiting on that egg?”

That egg, once a deep blue swirling with purple, green, and silver wisps, had turned to stone years ago. It still waited by the hearth in his chambers, just in case of a miracle. He shook his head.

Aegon smiled and turned toward the dragon dens. “Come on then, let’s go.”

“Do the Dragonkeepers know?”

Lucerys ran up behind them, a half-toothless smile splitting his face. “No! We –”

“We didn’t want to tell them because… well,” Jacaerys stuttered momentarily, and Aemond’s faith wavered.

“They wouldn’t allow it if they knew.” Aegon didn’t look back as he led them down the sloping entrance to the dragon dens. “I can’t understand why. Surely, they know you’re more than ready.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Just imagine the look on their faces when they see you come into the arena on the back of a full-grown dragon!”

And Aria, Aemond thought. She would be thrilled for him. He could picture it perfectly, the gleam of utter glee in her eyes as she smiled as wide as she could. And she would be able to ride Emrys soon, she’d told him. If he claimed an adult dragon, they could fly together.

The fantasy ended the moment the last of the daylight disappeared. That rush of anticipation faded, leaving him with only reluctance and fear.

Not that he had time to act on it before Aegon seized his arm and pointed into the massive passages lit only by distant torches. “Terrax makes his den down there.”

Aemond nearly choked as he named the formidable dragon that had hatched during Aegon the Conqueror’s reign and remained unclaimed since. “You want me to claim Terrax?”

“Yes!” Aegon spoke as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Don’t you think you deserve one of the largest and most powerful dragons in the world?”

“I… I suppose so.”

Aegon patted Aemond’s shoulder, then pushed him forward a few steps, sand flying up around him. “Then get on!”

He made no move to follow. Neither did their bastard nephews.

“Are you not coming with me?” The thought of approaching Terrax was daunting enough. To do it alone was nearly unthinkable.

Lucerys opened his mouth, but Jacaerys thumped him before he could say anything. Aegon just held Aemond’s gaze. “We are but must follow behind, so we don’t spook Terrax. Too many unfamiliar scents will put him on edge.”

It made sense, according to everything he’d learned about dragons. Unbonded dragons were especially sensitive to unfamiliar people, it was why novice Dragonkeepers were always accompanied by an elder.

Still, this wasn’t something Aemond wanted to do alone. “But you will be behind me?”

“We will,” Aegon assured, a hint of annoyance entering his voice.

“You swear it?”

“I swear.”

Aemond searched his brother’s face for any hint of deception but found none. Either he had become a more proficient liar, or he was telling the truth. This was his brother, his future king. If he couldn’t trust Aegon, who could he trust?

He could trust Aria. Always. If only she were here, he would be far more confident. And braver – he wouldn’t let her see him afraid. If she were here, he’d march right into Terrax’s den and lay his claim. He remembered the image he’d pictured of her proud face when he told her he’d claimed a dragon and decided he would do anything to make it real.

One step forward. Two. Three.

It was not long before it was so dark that when he looked behind him, he could not see Aegon, Jacaerys, or Lucerys. But knowing they were there was still a comfort, even if he had to walk the shadowed distances between torches.

The dragon dens, at last, came into view. The first few – one on the left, two on the right – were empty. The next one on the left had a massive nest of straw, wood, and sand occupying nearly every crevice of the room.

A low growl echoed through the corridor. Perhaps it was simply a dragon snoring. Maybe one had already scented him. The only way to know for certain was to continue.

As he approached the next den on the right, the growl came again, louder this time. Aemond said a swift prayer before moving closer, as quietly as he could.

He pressed his back to the wall and crept forward, waiting for the den itself to come into view. Waiting to see what lay inside. He reached the threshold and slowly peeked into the den.

A large green eye met his.

Terrax whipped his massive head toward Aemond, letting out a piercing roar.

“Ly.. lykirī! Dohaerās!” Be calm. Serve.

Terrax did not. A glow began in his throat, and heat threatened to overwhelm Aemond.

He was going to burn him.

Aemond ran, stumbling in the sand. He had to get away, get out, escape.

“Aegon!” It was both plea and warning.

No answer came.

“Aegon!”

The heat was growing, growing, growing. A whooshing noise chased him.

“Aegon! Jacaerys! Lucerys! Help!”

The tunnel was bright as day now. Sweat rapidly formed and fell from his brow.

The fire was upon him.

He had one last prayer.

“Aria!”

Aria was waiting in the library when Aemond finally escaped the thorough scoldings he’d received from both Elder Dantis, the leader of the Dragonkeepers, and his mother. “Aemond! Come look what Ser Gerold sent from Runestone!”

He should have been thrilled, should have felt excitement rushing in his veins at the prospect of new books directly from Aria’s home. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t even heartened by the fact that she’d waited for him for so long. He felt… nothing.

“Aemond?” As he came closer, she seemed to finally notice his disheveled appearance. The ends of his hair had been burnt away, and soot and sand clung to his clothes. “What happened?”

“I…” He took his seat, keeping his gaze on the blank parchment before him. This was what they always did: sit together while Aria read, and he wrote down new words or questions they had. It was his favorite part of the day.

Why did the prospect now make him want to cry?

He shook his head.

Aria exchanged a glance with her guard – Ser Christor always seemed to be on duty while they were in the library. She moved her chair closer to his. “Lēkia?”

He squeezed his eyes shut. Her voice always soothed him and made him feel happy and safe. But right now, it seemed to echo Terrax's horrible roaring.

A small, gentle hand came to rest on his. The touch… felt good—soft, safe, and cool.

But then she spoke again. “Please, are you alright?”

Aemond managed a slight nod. Terrax’s fire went above him, so he managed to escape without any burns, but his clothes and pride were ravaged. As was his faith in his brothers and nephews.

“Why won’t you say anything?” Damn it all, she was about to cry. He could not stand to hear anyone speaking right now, not even her. Yet he could not stand making her cry, either.

He picked up the quill she’d laid out for him, dipping it carelessly into the inkwell. He wrote, “I am well, but I really badly don’t feel like talking.”

“Oh…” Aria frowned but nodded. Aemond knew not talking would be hard for her; she always had so much to say. But she was willing to be silent for him. He could have kissed her for it.

She moved the book between them and began to open it before shutting it again, reaching over it, and grabbing Aemond’s parchment. There was little ink left in the quill, but she just managed to squeeze out, “Tap my hand when you want to turn the page.”       

It felt like everyone in the whole world was looking at Arianwyn. It was certainly everyone in her world.

The king and queen. Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond. Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys. Ser Criston Cole. All her guards from Runestone. The Grand Maester and Orwyle. The other lords of the Small Council. Countless other lords and ladies that Arianwyn had met but did not remember well.

Ser Gerold had arrived only the day before with several lords and ladies from Runestone and their bannermen.

Even Rhaenyra was there, though she didn’t look very happy about it. Ser Laenor was next to her, Jace and Luke in front of them, their dark eyes wide as they looked at Arianwyn and Emrys. She tried not to look at their eyes for too long – it felt rude, considering those eyes were quite the source of gossip.

“Emrys umbā, āeksio.” Elder Dantis motioned toward her now-saddled dragon. “Īlos pradagon?” Emrys is ready, lady. Shall we begin?

“Issa,” Arianwyn replied. She wasn’t quite sure whether she was really ready or not, but she couldn’t disappoint all those who had come to watch her first flight. So, she approached Emrys, stroking the smooth black scales of his snout.

He had grown impressively, now nearly twice as large as the King’s wheelhouse. According to the Dragonkeepers, it was unusual for a dragon to grow this fast away from Dragonstone or Valyria. There was much speculation about why, but Arianwyn didn’t care. She would love him no matter his size, though it did help that he was already large enough to ride.

He grumbled slightly, his icy eyes glancing at the crowd and the scales and spikes along his spine flaring. In many respects, she thought, he was quite like a spoiled cat.

“Hae urnēbosy pōnte daor gaomās,” Arianwyn whispered. Try to act like they aren’t watching us.

His grumbling turned to whining.

“Sepār zūgan,” she admitted, “yn kesir kosti. Īlon kosti gīmin. Ao kostā gīmin.” I’m nervous too, but we can do it. I know we can. I know you can.”

Emrys huffed a warm breath onto Arianwyn, a gesture of affection and conceding, before nudging her toward his side and the ropes that led to the saddle.

He did not like the saddle. That much was evident from the claw marks nearly covering the worn leather and how he would roll over on his back whenever the Dragonkeepers tried to put it on. It always took Arianwyn herself to talk him into letting them. But he was getting better about it. Slightly.

The saddle was not hers. It had been passed down in the family for generations, meant for young dragons who were still growing rapidly. Still, as Arianwyn settled into the ancient, worn leather, she could not help but think it fit her perfectly.

She dared one more glance at the crowd. The king was beaming. The queen looked as though she were about to faint. Ser Gerold and her Runestone guards looked to be somewhere between the two. Rhaenyra wasn’t even looking, though her husband and sons were.

Arianwyn looked last at her cousins. Helaena wore the same dreamy expression she always did, though her lips seemed to be moving slightly. Aegon was harder to read. She had expected him to look at her disdainfully or mockingly, but he didn’t. He looked happy, though it didn’t make much sense.

And Aemond. Her heart ached to look at him. She knew he was happy for her – more than happy, even. But being here today must also cause him such pain, driving home the fact that he still had not claimed a dragon. Guilt stung in her chest. She should have told him she wouldn’t mind if he stayed behind at the Keep.

But then, he smiled. There was still longing in his eyes for his own mount, but he smiled so brightly that Arianwyn soon smiled back, suddenly anxious to show him what she could do. She straightened her posture and grasped the reins.

“Emrys! Sōvēs!”

By the time Emrys again landed in the courtyard of the Dragonpit, he had entirely shed his dislike of his saddle. As he flew over King’s Landing, he had trilled and hooted his delight for all to hear. Arianwyn had as well, shouting and hollering with every move – rising on an air current, diving so low Emrys’ wings skimmed the surface of Blackwater Bay, and pitching around the towers and spires of the Red Keep.

Neither had ever felt so alive. But it was time to return to the ground.

Arianwyn was swarmed the moment she dismounted.

The king reached her first, clapped her on the back, and told her how proud her father would be if he were there. It was meant to be a comfort, but she flinched at the words. If he were there. But he was never there. She was nearly ten years old, but she had never met Prince Daemon, or even received a message from him.

Fortunately, the queen noticed her discomfort and subtly pushed past her husband to embrace her. “You were brilliant, Aria,” Alicent said. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Not bad at all.” Aegon, to her surprise, had also approached. He smiled at her. “Might even call it good.”

Arianwyn rolled her eyes. “How generous of you.”

He smirked. “I’m known to be sincere on rare occasions.”

She didn’t have a chance to snap back at him before she was lifted into the air and spun around. Ser Gerold held her close to his chest, and she swore she heard tears in his voice. “A dragon riding Royce! Who could have ever guessed? Oh, if only your mother could see this.”

“Would she be happy?” Arianwyn was suddenly gripped with fear that her mother would disapprove of her riding Emrys. Perhaps it was too far from Royce tradition for the late Lady of Runestone to tolerate.

Gerold lifted her so she could look directly into his dark gray eyes. “If your mother saw you now…” He really was crying now, but he smiled. “She would be so happy, Aria. She would be so thrilled that she might even ask to ride Emrys herself.”

Never able to resist his smile, Arianwyn smiled back. “Emrys isn’t quite large enough for two right now. But I would take her the moment he was.”

He finally set her down, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “I’m so proud of you, Aria. But I think there’s someone who also wants to say so.” With his hands on her shoulders, he turned her around.

Aemond was standing precisely where he was when Emrys had taken flight. He held his hands behind his back and looked away when Arianwyn met his gaze.

She had to push through more admirers – her guards, the Small Council, and other adults she couldn’t recall the names of. But they didn’t matter right now.

Yet when she stopped in front of Aemond, she didn’t know what to say. Talking about her flight might make him feel bad, but she so badly wanted to share her joy with him. Impulsively, she threw her arms over his shoulders and hugged him.

After a moment, he hugged her back.

“You’re amazing, Aria,” he whispered.

She sighed and rested her head on his shoulders. “You are, too.”

Aemond laughed almost disdainfully. Arianwyn held him tighter. “It’s true! One day, you will have a dragon, and I know you will be the fiercest rider our family has ever seen. Then, we can fly together, you and me.”

He let out a shaking breath but held her tighter, too. She could hear the faint smile in his voice. “You and me, Aria. Forever.”

“Forever.”

Taglist: @heartb8k2 @queenofshinigamis @leptitlu @xxxkat3xxx @malfoycassimalfoy @lokiofasgard12

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 part 3

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 3: missing time

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

"Please don't be upset," I begged Reagan.

"I'm not!" She sounded too chipper as she stepped up onto the newly finished porch. Alastor and Husker were talking a few paces behind us. I noticed Alastor's attention focused heavily on the expanded haven. He had yet to know how much more there was than what he could see.

Reagan left the front door open and skipped the stairs two at a time. I let out a sigh as I walked over to the broken frame on the living room floor. I knelt down and casted the glass together, melting them in place and refurbishing the wood frame.

I placed it back in its rightful place as Alastor walked in. His cane tapped the floor as he crossed the room. He looked different than how I remember him, somehow. His features seemed sharper and the air about him was different. Or maybe it was because it has been too long since I last stood in the same room as him.

"I would love to hear what happened in my absence." He gently gripped my fingers and placed a kiss on the back of my hand. "We now have all the time in the world."

"Mère?"

Alastor turned sharply at the French word for mother. Standing at the base of the stairs was Nym and Thatcher. Their hands were clasped firmly together and Thatcher hid slightly behind his older sister.

"Who is he?" Nym asked Reagan, who stepped into view from the stairs.

Ah, this was why she had been chipper.

"Who are they?" Alastor hissed. "How do they know that word?"

"I taught it to them," I said calmly, walking over to the young pair.

"How do you know that word?"

"One of your books." I knelt down beside Nym and Thatcher and held out my clawed palm. They habitually placed a free hand on it. "This is Mr. Alastor, my dears. He is my soulmate."

Their eyes turned to him, uncertain and unsettled. I didn't blame them. His appearance wasn't a kind one, even though gentlemanly, and it made me think back to when we first met in the alley. How long ago was that? Twelve years?

"Quite a pleasure to meet you two." His free hand touched his chest as he gave a very short bow of his head. He made no move to come near them.

I stood up and let Thatcher clasp his sister's hand again. Nym suddenly looked up at me and asked quietly, "I thought we didn't like him."

My eyes immediately went up to Reagan. She grimaced before meeting my intense stare. "I told them my feelings about him when they asked." She held up her hands in pretend surrender.

"We'll speak later." I knelt down again to be level with Nym. "He has been gone for a while and we weren't sure when he was coming back. But we do like him."

That last sentence felt strange, almost forced. I pushed off my knee and asked Reagan to make them breakfast. She silently obliged in an effort to get back on my good side. I didn't blame her for her feelings towards Alastor, but I did blame her for involving the two youngest family members in matters like this.

I noticed Lucas waiting at the top of the stairs. I thanked him for giving us space and let him walk into the kitchen to help Reagan. He gave a curt nod to Alastor who didn't return the gesture.

He put his cane behind his back, claws gripping it dangerously tight. "I see you've filled the house with new souls."

"I had to fill the void after you left." The comment made his ears nearly flatten. I stood an arm's length from him and stuffed my hands in my pants pocket. Still in my plain night clothes, I felt oddly out of place in front of him in his usual suite and bow tie.

My anger and hurt lingered, and something told me it was going to stay that way for awhile.

"I wasn't expecting you to..." he trailed off in an effort to find the words.

"To create a family?" I offered.

"I suppose that's a way to put it."

I could feel our bond had already reattached itself. Yet it wasn't the same as it had been before. I still couldn't hear his thoughts and his feelings felt far away. Even so, I felt an ugly emotion hidden somewhere inside him.

Husker, Charlie, and Vaggie came to the rescue a moment later. They too had mixed feelings of his return but Charlie seemed the happiest out of all of us. The tension between Alastor and I felt tight enough for a knife to slice right through it.

"Come see what we've done with the place." Charlie urged him out the door. I let her take him out of the house and went to talk to Reagan.

****

Alastor walked absentmindedly behind Charlie. None of this had happened the way he had expected.

He certainly wasn't expecting his soulmate to be angry with him. He had been hoping she would be grateful, relieved, and happy to see him physically back in this realm. Although, he should've expected some type of negative reaction given her sensitive nature.

Which seemed to have faded quite a bit.

He wanted to know more and fast. She went through a serious amount of change, as much as the haven, and he wanted to get to know every inch of her new personality. Why couldn't time move faster?

He would need to have a discussion with her regarding the two new children, as well. He never liked children, which was odd given that he started to fall for his soulmate when he saw her tender love towards them, and having them under the same roof as him made something prickle uncomfortably under his skin.

The haven had turned into a city. He was shocked to see stores, restaurants, apartments, and more. They had progressed in such a short timeline, shorter than he'd ever seen a group of people do. He wondered about the community. He could see Demons and Humans alike being friendly towards each other as he walked down the street.

How close was everyone? How communal were they? How did they resolve disputes with greater numbers? The answers to these questions and more wouldn't come until he spent time around this city.

He had never been bothered by the vastly growing civilizations, cities, or towns in previous centuries. Even in Hell it never bothered him to see construction complete a project within a couple months or years. He had always been an observer, a journalist, and information gatherer.

However, this time he actually felt left behind. It made his smile turn ugly.

The stares and slightly more crowded streets further down didn't go unnoticed. He could hear the shocked whispers and the quick explanations from parents to children of his persona. It soothed his pride to know these people were aware of his reputation, as well as his connection with their great protector.

Dragon Demon, hm? he noted to himself. Certainly better than Snake Demon.

Finally—finally—Charlie finished chatting closer to noon and allowed him to return to the house. He caught sight of the two children running down the hill. They casted worried glances at him as they passed.

If Reagan was bothersome, he could only imagine what those two must be like in the house.

Vaggie, Reagan, and Lucas said goodbye as soon as we heard Alastor walk in. Husker remained behind with me, tail wrapped several times around my own, as Alastor's red figure came into the kitchen. I felt more on his level now that I was adorned in my usual dress pants and light colored top.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Of what?" He placed his cane in front of him, claws folded over and gripping the red cover.

"The haven."

He turned his head as if viewing it from here. "It's grown an impressive amount."

There was an awkward silence between the three of us. I wanted to spew everything at him. I wanted to talk nonstop, to explain everything that has happened, to tell the finest details.

But there was a piece of me holding back. Not with the words, but with actions and emotions. Hurt was still an overwhelming feeling despite his explanation of his disappearance.

"Why the children in the house?" he suddenly asked.

"Nym and Thatcher?"

He nodded. His smile was showing his teeth.

"They were trouble cases. I grew attached the more I worked with them and the house was too empty."

"Do you intend to keep them as you've done with Reagan?"

"You hate children?" I inquired.

"You could put it that way," he lifted a single claw and let it tap back on his microphone.

"That was something else I didn't know," I said slowly, "But yes, I intend to let them stay. At least until they're older."

His movement made me jump, quickly moving from his spot at the counter to right beside me, hand extended. "Perhaps you should tell me more. I would love to hear what has happened."

I looked between his eyes and his claw. It felt like a dream still, like I was going to wake up feeling even more crushed by his absence. Husker tightened his grip around my tail, seemingly grounding me in reality.

Surely this was real.

He lifted one eyebrow. He's trying.

I placed my black claw in his palm and watched as his red claws slowly encased my hand. His skin felt tough yet smooth and his claws were smooth and cool to the touch. A zip of energy bounced between us, making our hearts race higher than normal.

It felt like he was being incredibly careful. He wasn't really pulling me—more like guiding me—to the bright living room. I wasn't fragile but it seemed that was how he was treating me.

My protest fell short when he brought me over to the couch. He sat down so we were facing each other but I made sure to keep an inch of distance between us. Husker sat on the chair closest to the window, his presence not going unnoticed by his master.

Alastor hadn't let go of my hand. He rested his cane on his lap and locked eyes with me. A single claw gently rubbed the back of my hand.

"I have been waiting to hear your voice. Please, enlighten me about the past eight years."

My mouth opened but no words came out. I had wanted to tell him about everything but when the opportunity fell at my feet, I was silent. So much had happened, where did I even begin? It felt awkward, too, sitting there with his full attention on me. He felt familiar yet strange. Why was this such a problem?

I casted a glance to Husker for help but he wasn't willing. His tail whisked about his feet as he leaned forward on his knees for the sake of his wings. When I looked back to Alastor, his smile seemed strained, if not nervous.

"Perhaps a look into your memories would suffice? At least to start," he offered. I nodded without thinking. It was too late to reject the offer as his mind gently but firmly melted with mine.

I tried to block off a few memories but that seemed to alarm him. He tried pressing for those memories and when he couldn't get through, he looked at the events around it.

"You made a deal with someone?" he demanded, suddenly pulling out of my mind. My ears pinned at his tone. "Who?"

My mouth did the thing again. I clasped my claws tightly together and hugged my tail suffocatingly around my leg. My eyes glanced up to Husker for aid.

Alastor turned sharply to his servant. His gaze wasn't questionable — it was murderous intent. He stood abruptly and slammed his cane loudly on the floor. Husker's eyes went wide, fur stood straight up, and claws dug into anything he possibly could to give himself momentum.

He lunged for freedom but it was no use. Alastor barely lifted a claw to send him choking to the ground, tentacles pinning his limbs to the hard floor. I jumped in front of Alastor and grabbed hold of his hand, my magic attacking his own.

He let go of Husker and instead grabbed my arm in return. His magic bolted through me too fast and without warning to put up any proper boundaries. I felt exactly where he was searching, and right as he found his answer, my cell phone started to ring.

He withdrew from my mind as his head slowly turned towards the front door where the phones lay hidden in a drawer. He stared for a moment, the house utterly quiet except for the horrid ringing that felt like the seal of my death.

His eyes found mine out the corner of his eye. "You have ten seconds to explain the confines of this arrangement." His grip was crushing my wrist.

"I-I...I'm...I defend Vox's stations and he...he promotes the Haven. He's not allowed...to go...he can't come into the Haven at all. Physical or technological."

He was silent for a moment.

His eyes were staring at me, his head still turned away but single eye locked with both of mine. The phone had finally silenced and now all that could be heard was Husker's ragged, scared breathing and the ticking of the clock on the mantle.

I gently pulled my hand towards my chest and he let go. He said, "Last I remember you refuse to make deals with anyone."

"I made deals with you," I reminded softly.

"Aside from me."

I looked down at my claws. "Things changed. I needed to find ways to keep the haven safe."

"And giving your soul to Vox was going to do that?" he shouted, spinning to face me.

"Yes!" My head snapped up at the aggression. "Promoting the Haven meant we could have more people to defend it and more people to believe it's important enough to leave alone. It also keeps Vox on our side rather than against. He's a pain in the ass to deal with but he has the resources."

Alastor's snarl grew.

"Besides, I didn't give my soul to him. It was a soul binding contract for both parties."

His shoulders lowered at that. He casted his eyes to the side in thought. I reached down to help Husker back up to his feet. I gave him a reassuring squeeze on the paw and let him disappear out the kitchen door, leaving Alastor and I alone.

He had one hand on his cane and the other covering his eyes when I turned back to him. His antlers were still big, meaning he was incredibly frustrated still.

"I'm sorry." I kept an arm's distance between us. "I did what was needed to survive."

Gaze still casted away, he withdrew his hand from his face and held it out to me. I calmed my shaking before place my hand in it. He pulled me close then let go of my hand to put it on the back of my head. He pressed his lips to my forehead and took a slow, long, deep breath.

His antlers shrunk back to their normal size.

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"I've missed so much time with you," he mumbled against my skin.

"We live for centuries. There's still time." I tried for a lighter tone.

He let out another breath. "I suppose you are right."

I flicked one ear up. "Say that again."

"Say what?" He pulled away to meet my eyes. Was he always this much taller than me?

"You never say that. Say it again."

His eyes stilled as he thought to the conversation. His realization was obvious when he lifted his eyebrows. "No."

"Say I was right. Say it again." I stepped closer so I was invading his personal space even more so.

"No." He moved his claw from the back of my head to my face and gently pushed me away.

"But it was so sweet of you," I laughed and pulled his hand off.

The phone rang again. I grimaced as he turned his head like an owl to stare at it.

"Maybe you'd like to see your old pal again?" I offered, "He's been obsessed about your return."

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

Author's Note:

oooooOOoooOooOOoooO

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

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

[littlemisssquiggles]

Okay…I gotta talk about these last two episodes of RWBY Beyond…

As much as I liked the “Boba” episode; I mean it was very sweet for the series to finally address one of the remnant elephants in the room which was Yang and Ruby briefly discussing what happened to her in the Ever After.

I liked that Yang finally no longer needed to front the burden of leadership by herself like how it was in the past.

I like that the show finally had that point brought up because it’s been a key observation of Ruby’s role in the group for a really long time. So I’m happy we finally got this development along with other drops of info---like Tai Yang missing in action in Vacuo.

That’s interesting. What could Tai be doing if he’s not in Vacuo with everyone else? My best bet is that Tai is probably teamed up with Glynda Goodwitch since she’s also MIA and the “assignment” at hand must have something to do with the true whereabouts of the Chamber of Choice. At this point, it has to be that.

Overall, “Boba” was a sweet episode and I’m looking forward to seeing how this new detail will be used in the future. The episode left off with Ruby and Yang agreeing on using the word “boba” to signal to one another when they will need emotional support from each other moving forward and I’m looking forward to see how that will come into play down the line.

That being said, while the last episode was nice, it’s not the one that I got my attention. It’s actually the previous episode. The one with the Adventures of Somewhat. Particularly how that one ended.

That ending got me hyped.

One thing that I’ve been itching for was to have RWBY return to the Ever After. And the main reason I wanted for this return is because of Oscar.

As ya’ll know, Oscar is going through the Merge with Ozpin which he is also trying his best to fight off.

So one headcanon that I’ve been playing with is something tragic happening to Oscar to force RWBY and co to return to the Ever After in order to help him.

So my headcanon was that while in Remnant, Oscar gets poisoned by Tyrian and falls into a comatose state, twerking the lines of life of death. In order to save Oscar, Ruby and the others figure out the only way to help him lies in the Tree of the Ever After. So they have to figure out a way to get to the Ever After. Unfortunately, the only way for them to get back to the Ever After is through how they got there in the first place: through the powers of the Relic of Creation which is sadly in the possessions of Salem. Therefore, our heroes must figure out a way to regain the Staff in order to get back to the Ever After in time to help Oscar go to the Tree so he can be saved through his own form of ascension.

The portal that opened was one of the portals created through the power of the Relic of Creation. And given Somewhat’s reaction, it has to be someone that they recognize which means that whoever it is before them has either got to be Ruby or all of Team RWBY (plus Jaune).

My money is that it’s probably Ruby since Ruby was the closest to the Somewhat back when they were still Little.

Either way, this has me excited! I mean, yeah sure, I could completely be heavily mistaken about this return to the Ever After being connected to needing to save Oscar at all.

But regardless, it does at least confirm that there will be a return to the Ever After to come for V10.

Personally, as a Pinehead, I want this return to be related to helping Oscar with the Merge so badly because I can’t think of it being related to anything else but that. Unless it has to do with finding a way to stop Salem in the Ever After.

I mean, it was highlighted back in V9 that the Brother Gods were the “children” of the Tree of the Ever After. And given that Salem is a by product of the Brother Gods’ meddling, finding a solution to undoing Salem’s immortality in the very birthplace of the very Gods who made her what she is isn’t too far of a stretch. I mean it makes sense from a narrative standpoint.

But regardless of that, I’m sticking with my first hunch. I really, really want the Return to the Ever After to have to do with Oscar’s Merge and potential Ascension.

I just want it to be about taking Oscar to the Tree.

I need it to be about that because…it makes sense. Ever since ascension and the Tree were brought into RWBY’s lore, I’ve been wanting Oscar to go to the Tree since I really think it could be the key to helping with the Merge.

Either to stop it as a whole or…have Oscar go through his own form of reform and become the person he needs to become.

Of all the characters who I wanted to meet the Blacksmith, Oscar is one of them. Like he’s the perfect candidate for this kind of development.

But I dunno. These are just my wild thoughts on this subject after watching the final two episode of RWBY Beyond.

Speaking of which, that's it. That's all the episodes of RB officially out which means, as of now, that's it for RWBY until they announce something about V10.

In the mean time, these are my jumbled thoughts on the last two episodes.

~LMS (2024)

[lovecolibri]

And yet if it was all questions related to Tommy they wouldn’t have a concern in the world. They like to say stop making it about buddie, and that it should be about just Buck, but then they turn right around and make it all about Tommy and his perfection. But like you said, asking about buddie is asking about bi Buck. And not to mention buddie is 6 years worth of history at this point. And we’ve learned enough the last few days to know a big portion of bucks bi sexuality was in tandom with Eddie. There is next to nothing to go off of in terms of things related to Buck Tommy. They have had a single kiss and a bad date. That’s it. Interviews would get like one question out of that and then end of topic.

Yeah, I just don't get the hype 🤷🏻‍♀️ Which is normal, I'm a chronic mono-shipper so I just avoid ships that aren't for me and block tags and such. But it's hard because right now there is a LOT of mis/cross tagging so I'm trying to just stay in my bubble.

But yeah, it's weird that people are both saying this should ONLY be about Buck but are also mad that it's not more about Tommy. He's a side character whose job is to move the plot forward, and there are lots of other storylines going on that are going to get the focus in upcoming weeks, and they haven't shot the last couple episodes yet so what is Oliver supposed to say? If there are only a couple more scenes with him and Lou coming up while the storyline focuses on Madney, Bobby, and Henren, he won't want to spoil them. If they already have maped out where the relationship reaches its natural end, he's not going to spoil that either but also won't want to super hype up a relationship he knows isn't going to last. He HAS made a point to say he hopes Tommy can stick around as a friend which to me says that the cast enjoys working with Lou and the audience has been mostly receptive so it's a good character for the show to keep in their back pocket as a recurring guest.

But Buddie??? Oliver has YEARS of pent up Buddie stuff he didn't feel like he could talk about, especially after FOX shut down the storyline, and that he's talking about it now tells me conversations have been had with him, Ryan, Tim, and the network about what possibilities are open to them and likely a broad timeline/plan. Which is of course, subject to change as we saw with this originally being planned for Eddie but due to actress availability, got shuffled around but I don't think they would be clearing these questions and Oliver especially would be answering so freely if he didn't feel like it's where things are eventually heading. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Also, I think it's important to remember it's a STORY and so of COURSE people are pulling in threads from previous seasons and connecting the dots because that's what you do with stories. And from the first moment Buck sees Eddie and doesn't quite know what that feeling is that he's getting, it's all been tied up in Eddie, with the show reinforcing that relationship at every turn. Why WOULDN'T people make it about Buddie when the story itself tells us it always has been? I just don't always get the "these stories have to be entirely separate from each other" because beyond all else Buck and Eddie are best friends. Of course their stories are going to include each other and be intertwined! And if Buck is looking at his life with new eyes or Eddie is examining what he actually wants in a partner for himself, why WOULDN'T they examine their relationship with each other since it's the most prominent one they have?

ANYWAY

*i just have a lot of feelings.gif*

[canonicallyobserving911]

Several Sentences Sunday

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Season 7 FANON FanFic: Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic - Hiatus Reading: “I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I do, I'll proofread and edit it then I'll post it on AO3.

This is an EPIC LOVE STORY!

Currently 26 chapters completed: 1M Words; Rated: Mature

One chapter will be posted at a time.

{#1 Previous snippet}

{#2 Previous snippet}

___________

I'm excited to finish writing Chapter 27 because at the end of Chapter 26, while Buck was sleeping, he made a sound that Eddie hadn't heard before then he immediately sat up in bed and called Eddie's name. He was in a daze when he did and to Eddie, Buck appeared to be still dreaming but since his eyes were open, he started talking to him to get his attention.

They spent the majority of the day before in the hospital after Buck collapsed in Eddie's arms and suffered a bradycardia event of epic proportions. He was unconscious and unresponsive after he received a package that was delivered to the firehouse while they were in Europe. Once he opened it and read the letter, he reached the part where it stated someone died and it reminded him of his own death and it triggered the event.

All three members of the Diaz family are supporting one another as Buck faces the fact that he died last year and as he proceeds to deal with all 7 stages of grief.

___________

Here's a romantically fluffy and almost smutty snippet from Chapter 27 of Buck and Eddie being head over heels in love with each other.

___________

Buck breaks the sound barrier first and admits, “Eddie, I love you, so much.  Do you know how much I love you?”

“I do.”  He smiles and stretches his arms out as far as they’ll go and replies, “This much.”

“More!”  He whispers as he moves closer and positions himself so he’s on top of his husband. He leans down and kisses him passionately and after he pulls back, he looks him in the eyes and says, “I love you to infinity and beyond.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows.  “My love… did you just hit me with a line from the movie “Toy Story”?  Didn’t Buzz Lightyear say that?”  Eddie knows the movie and the line because Chris watched it over and over again when he was 6 years old.

Buck laughs and Eddie does too and before they know it, they’re both crying from laughing so hard.

When their laughter subsides, Buck says, “Yeah… he did but it’s the only way I could think of to describe how much I love you.”

And who is Eddie to refute that.  “I love you to infinity and beyond too” then he lifts his head and presses his lips to Buck’s and when he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, he opens for him.

The kiss is tantalizing and magnificent because it’s filled with love, passion and devotion and when Eddie rolls his tongue like he rolls his "Rs" when he speaks Italian and Spanish, Buck thinks his heart’s going to explode in his chest because he wants to feel his husband all over him.

It’s been more than a week, actually it’s been 13 days but Buck thinks who’s counting, then he realizes he has and he can’t wait for Eddie to be buried deep inside of him again.

After more than a minute, they break it because they need to come up for air and when they do, Eddie looks at his husband and he wants to make love to him so bad right now but in the back of his mind, he hears, “You know you aren’t supposed to” but his heart and the bulge in his pants causes him to breathlessly say, “Ciò che vuoi!” [“Tell me what you want!”]

“VOI!  [“YOU!”]

And that’s all it takes for them to crash their lips into each other’s again and for Buck to start undressing his husband while speaking Italian in his ear.  “Voglio che tu faccia l’amore con me!” [“I want you to make love to me”].

Eddie’s breath hitches in his throat but then everything that happened and was said to them on Monday comes back to the front of his mind like a whirlwind.  He gasps and after he catches his breath, he whispers, “Amore mio, we should st—op!”

Buck keeps kissing that soft spot underneath his earlobe that drives him wild and after he scrapes his teeth over it, he asks, “Don’t you want me because… I really want you?  Eddie, I need you!”

Without hesitation, he admits, “Of course I—I do… I always want you, more than anything but you know we can’t… not right now.  We have to wait until…”

Why did Eddie tell Buck they have to wait to make love? 🤷🏽‍♀️

___________

Fic Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it.  But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Chapter Summaries

Chapter 1 - Eddie makes a new friend while Buck receives devastating news regarding the sperm donation he made for Connor and Kameron.

Chapter 2 - Buck does a lot of research to learn more about the abnormalities found in his red blood cells and Eddie starts a new therapy journey that’s all about him and not the traumas he’s experienced.

Chapter 3 - After more than a month, Buck and Eddie finally spend time together outside of work but it doesn’t end well and they part with a lot of uncertainty regarding their places in each other’s lives.

Chapter 4 - Eddie has a few realizations about his life which causes him to consider moving back to El Paso, TX while Buck continues to be reminded of his past which causes him to take an impromptu road trip across America.

Chapter 5 - Both Buck and Eddie have difficult conversations with their parents and Buck finally learns the truth behind the reason why his mother despised him while Eddie finally tells his mother about the way she tries to control him.

Chapter 6 - More than two weeks after Buck pushed Eddie away after suggesting they needed a break; Eddie decides to try again. Eddie’s there for Buck when he’s at his worst just like Buck was there for him when he was at his worst and he won’t let Buck give up.

Chapter 7 - After Buck’s mental breakdown, Eddie has his back the same way Buck had his when he had his own breakdown more than a year ago.  They share several vulnerable and emotionally intimate moments with one another and they begin to realize their small, sweet and caring gestures matter just as much if not more than any grand gesture ever could because these are the foundations of a long-lasting love relationship.

Chapter 8 - Buck, Eddie and Chris all have their own therapists and during their sessions, they reflect on their pasts while they’re in the present so they can prepare for their future together as a family.

Chapter 9 - Buck and Eddie are there for each other when Buck has to testify as a witness during the trial.  But by the end of it, they’ll both realize their individual and shared traumas are going to keep resurfacing until they talk about them, deal with the fact that they’re in love with one another and face the fact that they can’t live without each other.

Chapter 10 - As Buck and Eddie finally begin to confront their past traumas, they realize how much they need each other to fill in the gaps of their memories.  Additionally, the universe screams at them for what appears to be the one hundredth time so Buck can realize he doesn’t have to ‘find it’ because he already ‘made it’ and Eddie’s reminded tomorrow isn’t promised and he doesn’t have to die alone if he doesn’t want to.

Chapter 11 - A “virga” or dry thunderstorm is in the forecast but once the rain starts, the thunderstorm happening outside won’t be able to match the storm brewing inside between Buck and Eddie.  It’s the universe’s final scream and when the tumultuous winds begin to blow, they’ll have one last chance to hold onto everything they’ve built over the last six years or they’ll lose it all forever.

Chapter 12 - Buck and Eddie have always shared a deep physical attraction and an emotional intimacy that’s unmatched but now that they’re in a relationship, they’re learning how to navigate the romantic intimacy they’ve been waiting for six years to explore. The love they have for each other is a once in a lifetime, soulmate, love of their lives type of love that transcends space and time.

Chapter 13 - While navigating the newness of their romantic relationship, Buck and Eddie take advantage of every moment they spend together. As their individual lives, people from their pasts, time constraints and the possibility of losing each other again make attempts to interrupt and interfere with their journey to forever, they love, care for, support and hold onto each other even tighter to withstand it all.

Chapter 14 - Buck and Eddie can see the lights at the end of the tunnels regarding the results of Buck’s Cancer Screening along with everything else they’re dealing with. But are the lights they see exits to the tunnels or are they headlights on different runaway trains that are speeding towards them in an effort to interrupt their forever?

Chapter 15 - Buck and Eddie have known they were exactly who the other one wanted in a partner since they met six years ago when they agreed to have each other’s backs. They’re in a romantic relationship, they’re both preparing to ask the other one to spend forever with them and by the end of the seventh week into their relationship, together they will plan their most important and greatest adventure for their future.

Chapter 16 - As Buck and Eddie begin to prepare for their marriage ceremony that will take place in Rome, Italy in December 2023, they start planning their first international adventure as a romantic couple. Even though Chris is still the only person they’ve told about their relationship, several people who know them have already witnessed the love they share and as the days continue, others will witness it too.

Chapter 17 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to departing Los Angeles for their international adventure, a moment in time will remind them; life is fragile, tomorrow isn’t promised and every second of everyday should be cherished because everything can change in an instant. The result of that realization will cause them to hold onto each other even more.

Chapter 18 - As Buck, Eddie and Chris prepare for family gatherings before and during the Thanksgiving holiday, the “Santa Ana Winds” start to blow and all sorts of expected and unexpected familial drama ensues.

Chapter 19 - As Buck and Eddie get closer to their wedding day, the universe begins to align everything so that some of their parent and children's relationships are strengthened while others come to an abrupt end.

Chapter 20 - With only 14 days remaining until Buck, Eddie and Chris depart Los Angeles, CA traveling to Rome, Italy, for their first family adventure, an early morning conversation about “tying up loose ends” helps Buck and Eddie realize there are still several things left unfinished on their ‘To Do’ lists. The question is will there be enough time to complete all of them?

Chapter 21 - Buck, Eddie and Chris are finalizing their ‘To Do’ Lists, double checking their itineraries and packing their suitcases in preparation for their trip to Europe so they can board their flight that departs Los Angeles, CA on Friday, December 15, 2023 at 3:25PM.

Chapter 22 - While Buck, Eddie and Chris spend the first 8 days of their European family adventure in Italy, their primary reason for going will be fulfilled as well as several others they hadn’t considered or anticipated.

Chapter 23 - As the Diaz Family continues their Italian family adventure, they’ll say, “Ciao” or hello and goodbye to a lot of things almost immediately after they become an official and legal family.

Chapter 24 - After Buck, Eddie and Chris arrive in London, England on December 24th; the Diazes immediately start preparing to spend their first family Christmas together. During their stay, each of them will hear a few choice words that will be the life raft to get them home to complete their searches to be seen and to be found.

Chapter 25 - After spending more than two weeks in Europe, Eddie, Buck and Chris are back in Los Angeles and they’re getting ready to attend Maddie and Chimney’s New Year’s Eve party. During the event, they have plans to make two surprise announcements but the question is, who’s really going to be surprised, the Diaz family or their found family at the 118?

Chapter 26 - Buck and Eddie are once again faced with their greatest fear of losing each other but this time it could be permanent and if it is, then they won’t be able to spend the rest of their lives together.

Chapter 27 - Will be posted soon.

__________

Read chapters 1-26 are available on AO3.

Continue reading on AO3

Chapter 27 will be posted tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I'm in the final stage of completing it and after I proofread and edit it, I'll post it.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Normal- Lyney x Neuvillette's child!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 27th, 2024

Description: Hello it's me, sorry if this is a bad time, but I got inspired by Arlecchino's story quest, and I wondered about combining that with my previous two requests about the reader being Neuvillette's child, this is mainly just an idea so if you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with @crystalkat6747, we thank her for her contribution. Ahh, I actually finished the story quest the day before you sent this request, lol. Can be read as a part three to Let it out and Definitely a Date but can be read alone.

Word count: 810

Back to directory

Lyney watches the moon’s light drift across the ceiling. Lynette is curled up against one side and Freminet is curled up against the other, both sound asleep after their return to the house. He watches their lashes flutter against their cheeks, eyes flicking back and forth behind their eyelids as they dream. Pleasant dreams, he hopes.

He turns back to the ceiling and chokes down a breath as Lynette’s head presses against his ribs awkwardly. His wounds from their fight with father were mostly healed, but still tender. She shifts off him again quickly, eyes opening briefly as if she could sense his distress.

The long shadows continue to dance above them as Lyney's thoughts drift back to the fight.

As for whether to take them, the choice is yours.

Carefully, Lyney slips his arms out from under and around his siblings and inches towards the foot of the bed. Almost as soon as he’s climbed out, Lynette and Freminet roll towards each other and grab on to each other's hands. It makes him smile, the way they take comfort in each other, like a family.

The streets are empty and dimly lit as he makes his way through the court. He eventually finds himself in front of a familiar house and rounds the side to climb up to Y/n’s window. Their curtains are tied back, and he just sits in the tree for a while watching them.

On their bedside table, he sees the rainbow roses he’d given them on their first date a week ago. Next to those is a little penguin, an otter, and two cat mechanisms that Freminet had gifted them for their last birthday. They looked like a little family.

A clicking noise and the swishing of the window opening startled him.

“Ly-Lyney?” Y/n yawned. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked owlishly.

“I…”

Y/n stared back at him for a moment before backing up and waving him in. They sat back against the headboard of their bed and Lyney crawled next to them, curling against their side.

“You wanna talk about it?” They whispered, arm wrapped around Lyney’s shoulder.

“We can’t have a normal life,” Lyney said, staring at the mechanisms on their bedside table. “I mean, I can’t have a normal life. Not as a member of the house of the hearth, and that means that we- OW!” 

He hissed as Y/n pinched his arm. They cupped his chin and forced him to look up at them.

“I love you. I don’t care what our normal looks like, if it doesn’t look like everyone else's then so be it.” Lyney blinked up at them, cheeks turning red. There was a small frown tugging at the corner of their lips as they continued. “What brought this up anyways?” Lyney chewed at his lip. “Is this about that proposal for former House of the Hearth members?”

The magician’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did you-”

“My father wanted my opinion,” they shrugged, letting go of his chin.

Lyney slumped back against their shoulder and laced his fingers with theirs. In turn, they hooked one of their legs through his so they were wrapped up in eachother.

“The House of the Hearth is my family, but the other day… it gave me a lot to think about. I could leave at the cost of my current self, not that I want to but it’s never seemed like an option before.We’re preparing for a dangerous mission with other Harbingers, and father wants me to be the next king. I know this was never going to be normal but for just a moment I imagined what it would be like if we were.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Y/n offered again.

Lyney squeezed their hand.

“If I left the house, would you come find me again?”

“Always.”

“And if I die on this mission, would you miss me? Would you be there for Lynette and Freminet?”

“Dying, will not get you out of this relationship, and bold of you to assume those two will let you die without them.”

Lyney let out a snort of amusement while Y/n smirked.

“And if I became the King of the house?”

“Lyney, I’m not leaving you.” They leaned their head against his. “I may not know what exactly is going on, but I love you, and I’ll stand by you no matter what you decide. I never expected you to leave the house, and part of what I love so much about you is your dedication to your family.”

Y/n looked down, finding Lyney’s eyes and offering him a loving smile.

Lyney’s eyes caught once more on the little family diorama on their bedside table before he looked back at them and squeezed their hand again.

“Then will you marry me?”

[sleepyfan-blog]

Chase

Author’s note: The fourth fic for Nadesir! previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @kit-williams

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, ask me if you want me to tag something else

Summary: Nadesir catches the trail of one of the lurking Alpha Legionnaires, but something more worrying comes up.

Nadesir silently made his way through the forest, using his wings to keep from leaving tracks on the ground. For reasons known only to them, the Dark Angel Interrogator Chaplain and the squad he had brought with him had decided to linger in the small human town, and had been terrorizing random Astartes by asking questions that made no fucking sense to him. Perhaps it was a Loyalist thing that they were chasing? Not that the Night Lord Raptor had made it his business to find out what the Dark Angels were up to - though he hoped that they would fuck off soon. With the Alpha Legionaries somewhere in the forest that he was currently flying through doing fuck knows what, the presence of another group of deeply mysterious and secretive Astartes was... Not great. While he was looking for four-legged prey to hunt, Nadesir was keeping a careful eye on his surroundings, just in case he caught a glimpse of a hydra lurking in these woods, or to catch their trail.

If he could find where they were hiding out in - when not sneaking around the town in the guise as other marines - it might help? If he could make his way through the Alpha Legion base, try to snoop through their things, to see if they had any plans written down - likely coded, if it was written down - he and the other bonded Astares who lived with their humans might have a clue as to what those teal-hued snakes were after. Not that Nadesir was of the opinion that they should give the Alpha Legionaries whatever it was they were after. Not with the underhanded groxshit that they've been pulling for months now. 

Snap!

A branch broke loudly, startling the Night Lord, and Nadesir choked back the instinctive desire to hiss or growl at whatever had made such a sound, whirling where he was hovering to try and see the cause of the broken branch. At first, all he could see were several different kinds of trees - odd, as none of them were the type of tree to shed branches at this time of year unless the tree was damaged or sick somehow - when he saw a flash of teal and silver. A vicious smirk spread across his face beneath his helmet as he flew as swiftly and as silently as he could manage toward the brightly colored flash he'd seen.

He quickly approached where he'd seen the initial flash of silver and teal, noting that particular Alpha Legionnaire had indeed been caught in the deadfall trap that he'd left out for unwary prey, from the destroyed trap and the scrapings of paint on the underside of the large and heavy branch the other had likely been trapped - or partially - trapped under. There were a set of Astartes-sized footprints for him to follow deeper into the woods. The smirk on his face broadened to a grin, and he was about to fly off to hunt down his two-legged prey when he paused for a moment as he got a message from his bonded.

[You busy, Vanya?]

He hesitated for a moment before answering, using the text-to-speech feature in his helmet (making sure that his external comms were off - no need to potentially tip off to his prey that he was closeby) [Somewhat, but never too busy for you. Did you need something? I am on a hunt.]

[Oh, have fun! I just thought I saw you at the grocery store. Must have been another Night Lord.] She said, unintentionally causing Nadesir to panic a little.

He didn't know of any other Night Lords who lived in this area, and there were no Night Lords in the migratory war bands who passed through this town. At least, that had been true the last time one of the warbands had passed through, and they'd come and gone before this group of Alpha Legionnaires had decided to be spooky bastards. [... Be careful, darling. Most of my brothers are... Spectacular in how poorly socialized they are, to use your words. And it's possible that the Night Lord You saw was actually one of the shape-shifter Astartes borrowing someone else's form.]

[I'll keep that in mind. Have fun on your hunt, Vanya!] She texted back [I'll tell you when I get home.]

[See you soon, this hunt shouldn't take long.] Nadesir promised, anxiety and determination making his hearts beat quickly. He was torn between his desire to run the Alpha Legionnaire to ground, and flying back to his bonded... Especialy with this suspect Night Lord in town, he was worried that this might be some kind of trap or bluff -

Snap!

Another broken branch. Another flash of teal and silver paint.

A silent snarl left Nadesir as he lunged for his prey, while also making sure to send all of the information he'd gathered on this hunt to the Ultramarine Lieutenant who'd been put in charge of handling all information that the allied Astartes in the area had gathered on their wholly unwelcome visitors. That way if he was captured or went completely silent, they had some sort of clue as to what had happened to him.

The trees were too close together for Nadesir to fly properly, but he leapt from branch to branch in the upper canopy, gliding on silent wings as he sought out the Alpha Legionnaire he'd caught sight of twice, one hand on his bolter, the other helping to steady himself on the branch he leapt to, to keep from making too much noise. 

It did not take long for the Night Lord to catch up with the single Alpha Legionnaire who was limping on the ground.

...

Why was there only one of them? Of the traitor legions (were Alpha legionnaires traitor? They were labeled such by the Loyalists, but Nadesir wouldn't be surprised if the true answer was much more complicated. Even so, was this Alpha Legionnaire a traitor, or was he from a time before the Horus Heresy?) the Alpha Legion almost never splintered off into groups fewer than two. He looked for signs of more Alpha Legionnaires, but did not find any. He kept pace with the bastard Hydra limping around on the ground, careful to keep behind him and moving as silently as possible, in the hopes that if the other did not know he was there, that he would not alert the other to his presence. And the injured Alpha fucker definitely seemed to be headed in a specific direction, rather than wandering around aimlessly.

Nadesir stalked the injured Alpha Legionnaire from the forest canopy, resisting the urge to swoop down and pounce on the bastard - to tear him limb from limb and leave a pretty little warning for his fellow teal fucks to find in the woods - patience was the mark of a true hunter, and if he was lucky, the other would lead him directly to wherever it was the group of Alpha Legionnaires were lairing. Hours passed, and the Alpha legionnaire eventually limped up a well-worn forest trail to a wooden cabin, knocking on it four times before entering.

Anticipation sung through the Night Lord's veins, but he again sent his current coordinates and a short explanation as to what he'd found to Lieutenant Ollias. He paused for a moment, realizing that his beloved bonded had sent him three more messages, while he'd been focused on the hunt, each more concerning than the last.

[I'm almost home, but I think I'll need to spend some time at a neighbor's place. I think someone's following me.]

then

[How badly socialized are most Night Lords, again? The one from the grocery store is trying to talk to me. Says he can smell you on me?]

and finally, a terrifying 

[Help! He's ajklreg-]

The timestamp was half an hour ago. No no no no no! Nadesir knew that he should have turned around and gone to his beloved at the first mention of another Night Lord. It was too unusual a happenstance for it to be a good thing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something awful had happened to his bonded. He could only hope that she was still alive. He'd been told by older Astartes that they had felt when their human had died. Had felt the bond snap as their sanity waned. Forcing down the panic, Nadesir closed his eyes as he reached out to the wonderful, strange bond that he had with his beloved human, trying to get a general sense of where she was, his body already moving towards where she was by the time he opened his eyes again.

He could hear and smell the large, unmarked van coming minutes before it arrived, its noisy engine and awful pollutants chugging along, with his bonded inside of it. The van was moving at speed - but no faster than Nadesir himself could run. He silently judged the distance before landing on the roof of the van with an unfortunate thud.

Nadesir dug his claws into the roof of the van, the inferior metals bending and buckling beneath his strength and frantic determination. the metal shrieked and screeched as he tore open a hole large enough to see what was going on.

His human was bound and gagged, held in place by a wide-eyed human male. She was struggling against him. There were several other humans in the van, two of whom were also bound and gagged, the other six trying to keep them in place. All three of the captured humans were bonded to Astartes. He leaned in, growling in the dominant human language "I don't care what foolishness you think you're up to, but I will be taking the humans you are foolishly attempting to kidnap. Resist and I will kill you."

"Y-y-you wouldn't dare!" One of the capturing humans stuttered. He stunk of fear and was dressed in a black suit and tie, with a white under-shirt. "I-I am-"

"I. Don't. Care. Who. You think you are. You attempted to kidnap my bonded, and the bonded of two others I consider allies and friends. Then again, I could leave you stranded here. The Hydra hunt in this region. I'm sure they would feast upon your fear and helplessness before tearing you apart." Nadesir hissed. Or he could leave them for the Salamanders to find. While they were loving and soft to those whom they cherished... Well, these idiots definitely would have roused the fury of the dragons. And enraged Salamanders were breathtakingly vicious and cruel. 

"We... We... We still have a working-" Suit and tie stuttered uselessly.

Nadesir ignored his babbling, looking over to his beloved - who continued to struggle furiously against her captor. He reached for her, cutting the ropes off of her, offering her his combat knife "I'm going to stop the vehicle. I imagine these two's bonded aren't far behind you." He gently bumped his helmeted head against her forehead in a gesture of affection. "Strike hard and fast, my heart." Before he crawled back on top of the van, pulling his bolter from it's holster and shooting at the hood of the van, aiming for where the engine probably was, and blowing a large hole through the middle of it.

There was a lot of panicked shouting and wailing from the would-be kidnappers. Their symphony of fear was almost enough to provoke Nadesir to purr - but he wouldn't. Not until his precious human was safe. And that the other kidnapped humans were safe too. 

Sure enough, he could see several large green Astartes sprinting down the road towards the rapidly slowing van. He waved at them from his perch, calling out to them over vox {You here to retrieve our kidnapped humans?}

{Yes! Your appearance is timely, if surprising. We were told you were on a hunt?} The lead Salamander asked. He was one of the Primaris Marines - larger and allegedly better than first born marines. The young dragon was sure a fast fucker, at any rate. Nadesir wasn't sure what his name was.

{I was. Then my human texted me for help, so I followed my bond to where my human is. I've given her my combat knife and freed her hands and legs, so the others who were captured are going to be freed soon too.} Nadesir explained, looking back into the hole he'd created. Sure enough, his beloved had freed the other two bonded humans - and was threatening Suit-and-Tie human at knife point, using methods he'd taught her. He's so proud of her. He calls out to her "Are you ready to go, love? Or do you want to kill your would-be capturer? Or I could kill him for you, and give you his heart to devour. Or his liver. Or both!" He was... Mostly joking. He knew that cannibalism wasn't something that most humans on ancient terra did unless under extreme circumstances and desperate. But he was leaning into the terrifying reputation that his legion had earned on Ancient Terra.

"... I'd rather they face the justice system, then have them killed out of hand, Vanya. Even if this shithead's parents are wealthy enough to pay off the courts." His human huffed, glaring darkly at suit-and-tie.

"Mmm, the squad of angry Dragons says otherwise, dearheart." Nadesir crooned. He doubted that these would-be kidnappers would last long in captivity, unless they had some very compelling information to give to the local chapter masters. "Then again, the Interrogator Chaplain has been getting restless... I'm sure he'd be delighted to... Mete out the due justice these fools have earned." Oh look, and the scary bastard and his posse were following the squad of furious Salamanders. "You never should have kidnapped our humans. Ready to go home, darling?"

His human blinked and smiled, handing him his combat knife. Instead, he picked her up, nuzzling her lovingly. "I thought you wanted to hunt?" she asked, confused. 

"If you think that I am going to be anywhere but at your side for months after you got kidnapped, you should reconsider that idea. I... I am sorry to have failed in protecting you, beloved." Nadesir rumbled, guilt and shame gnawing at him. One of the would-be kidnappers tried to reach for a weapon, but with a flick of his wrist, he cut the bastard's offending hand off with one of his claws without looking.

"Hey... It wasn't your fault I got grabbed, love. And you came to get me as soon as you knew I was in trouble. I... I'd like to go home now. I'll talk to whoever Captain Urar sends to talk to me about what happened tomorrow." His beloved responded, shaking a little as she buried her face in his chest.

Nadesir kissed the top of her head. It was still a failure on his part that she'd gotten kidnapped - perhaps he needed to ensure his reputation was terrifying enough that none would dare approach her with covetous thoughts? Ah, but he didn't want to potentially scare her away, either... These were things to consider later, however. The squad of Salamanders had arrived and he nodded politely to the sergeant leading them, saying "I'm going to take my human home. We'll both give full reports of what we know happened tomorrow."

"That works for me, go on home." The sergeant responded. "And yes, I'm aware of the Pride half a klik behind me. They're bored and frankly, I think that letting them handle the idiots would be entertaining."

The night lord raptor nodded, holding his human closer as he took to the skies. She slowly started to relax in her arms, the fear and anxiety in her scent giving way to wonder and delight. She always did really enjoy it when he took her for a flight.

[hurt-care]

It's allergy season and I was looking back through my old writings and found this short allergy-centric fic I wrote several years ago in response to a request. I don't know that I ever posted it here on Tumblr, but even if I did, there's a lot more people here than back in 2019 when I wrote it.

It's OCs, modern day setting, takes place in Egypt. Thom is a grad student in Archeology doing a practicum placement in Egypt. Turns out, there's still pollen and allergens in the desert... enjoy :)

---

The jingle of a cell phone ring broke through the cloud of white noise coming from the air purifier and the AC unit. Thom rolled over and reached for the phone, almost knocking it off the bedside table as he fumbled sleepily.

He squinted at the display and toggled the slider to answer.

“Mhm? Hello?”

“I'm out front. It's ten past.”

Thom sat up with a start and blinked at the clock across the room.

“Oh fuck. I'm sorry Asha, I overslept. Give me a few and I'll be right down.”

He kicked off the sheets and tore through his closet in the small flat for a fresh pair of khakis and a thin linen shirt. He splashed some water on his face and ate a banana quickly while he refilled his water bottle and searched for his baseball cap. Thankfully, his backpack was still stocked from the previous day of work, so he slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his keys, and raced down the two flights of stairs out into the busy Luxor street.

Though it was barely seven, the sun was already blazingly hot. Asha sat, idling her motorcycle and chatting with a street vendor.

“Sorry, sorry,” Thom said as he approached. 

“Doctor Rutledge is gonna kill us,” she said, pushing her helmet back down and handing the spare one to Thom. “Let's go.”

Thom sided onto the bike, put on the heavy face-shielded helmet, and took hold of Asha's waist. The bike roared to life and they sped off towards the dig site.

He'd first met Asha two months ago when he'd come to Egypt for his practical experience under the tutelage of renowned Egyptologist, Doctor Emila Rutledge. Asha was a daughter of Luxor, born and raised in the city and her knowledge of its winding streets and the surrounding archeological sights had proved very useful. She was a local assistant on the dig, helping with some of the more tedious sorting and packing of artifacts. And her motorbike was a much faster way to reach the desert than taking a bus and then walking.

They turned down a street leading out of the city and towards the Theban Necropolis dig site. The bike slowed as they turned down the side road and came to a halt where the road turned to sand.

They tugged off their helmets, the sweat dripping down their faces drying instantly in the arid climate. With Asha pushing the bike, they walked the last bit down the sandy path to the tents that marked the research areas. 

Thom blinked in the dry air and rubbed at his left eye, turning it a little pink. As they ducked under the canopy of the first tent, he cleared his throat and took a deep swig of his water bottle. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, capping the bottle and putting it back in his pack. “It's my fault. I didn't set a proper alarm.”

Doctor Rutledge looked up from her table of equipment and glared at him.

“There's limited time out here during the storm season,” she warned him. “Don't waste it being late.”

March and April in the desert meant sandstorms and sometimes they struck unexpectedly, plunging the camp into a fog of dust and undoing weeks of excavation work. Thankfully, none had hit the site thus far in the season.

Thom set down his things and turned to his work, Asha at his side, cataloguing a tray of rocks that had eroded off a nearby statue. 

“You alright?” she asked, looking at him critically. “Your eyes are kinda pink.”

He blinked and rubbed at his left one again. They did feel a bit gritty.

“Still half asleep,” he said. “Didn't have time for coffee.”

She laughed.

“You'll have to suffer until break then.”

Thom nodded and made a mark in his notebook about one of the artifacts. He rubbed the back of his hand to his nose distractedly, pawing away an itch.

In the distance, the air was growing murky and dim as a far-off storm kicked up sand into the air, turning the sky an unworldly red. 

His throat felt drier than usual out in the heat of the open desert. Putting his notebook down, he reached again for his water bottle.

“You sure you're fine?” Asha asked suspiciously. “Your eyes look awful.”

Thom pushed his water bottle cap shut and opened his mouth to answer her, but he was distracted by a sudden, very urgent itch. He wrinkled his nose and turned away, cupping his hands to his face.

Hurh-TSGHT!

“Blessings to you,” she offered. 

Thom sniffled and wiped at his nose. He could feel the familiar burning of an allergic reaction growing in his respiratory system and suddenly his stomach sank. In the haste of his departure that morning, he'd neglected to take his allergy medication.

He'd always been someone who struggled with allergies, to everything from cats to pollen to mold and dust. His youth had been full of inhalers on the sidelines of the soccer pitch, extra allergy pills packed for sleepovers, and his own air purifier for his college dorm room. Adulthood had not improved things as much as he'd hoped. He'd expected that the dry air of Egypt would be a relief to his hayfever, but he'd been warned about dust-storm season and the large amounts of pollen and mold and dust kicked up by the strong winds. The local pharmacy had put out a display of face masks only a week prior.

“Oh shit,” he groaned, digging through his backpack. Maybe he had some spare pills stowed away.

“What?” Asha asked.

“Ugh, my allergies,” he said, sniffling again. “I forgot my medicine this morning.”

“Wow, you really did fuck up the start of your day,” she teased. “You have allergies? Bad ones?”

“Yes, bad ones,” he said, reaching to the bottom of an outside pocket and feeling his rescue inhaler. At least that was some relief. “Bad enough to need a prescription daily.”

“And it's storm season,” she said. “The worst for that.”

“I've been told,” he said miserably. He could feel his eyes beginning to water and he ran his tongue along the top of his mouth and back towards his throat, trying to settle an itch.

Hhrr-TSGHHT!

He sneezed roughly into his shoulder.

“Well,” he said, pulling a bandanna out of his pack. “This might help a little.”

He tied the triangle of cloth over his nose and mouth, tucking the excess into the top of his shirt.

“Very mysterious,” Asha teased. “My work partner, Zorro.”

Thom went back to his notes, but concentrating was extremely difficult. He wrinkled his nose under the bandanna and tried to focus on his work, but the itching was too strong. 

Hehh-ehh-GSHTT!

A damp spot blossomed on the bandanna under his nose.

He clamped a hand over the fabric and pinched his nose, turning away from Asha.

NghT! Hehh...eh-TSGHT! Tsh'GXHT!

Three rapid stifles tumbled forward, held in by his fingers. 

Tsgh! Ehh-TSGH!

“Wow,” Asha said, watching. “You were not kidding.”

“No,” he said miserably, letting go of his nose. “This is pretty mild, actually. Usually I...I..hehhh...heh-TSGHT!”

He sneezed once again into the bandanna and tugged it free from his face, using it as a proper handkerchief. 

“I'll ask around to see if anyone else has some medicine,” Asha offered. “Sit down a minute.”

He sunk into a camp chair with the bandanna over his nose.

Hehh-ehhhh-GSHTT!

By the time she returned, his breath was growing wheezy and his eyes were swollen. He coughed hoarsely into his fist and swallowed hard.

“No luck,” she said.

“What going on over here?”

Doctor Rutledge was standing behind them, looking expectantly at them both.

“Thom is having an allergic reaction, Doctor,” Asha explained. “I was looking around to see if anyone had any medication.”

“And?”

“No one does,” she said. “I'm sorry, Thom.”

“That's okay,” he croaked. “I just need a minute. I—heh-SGHHT!”

He sneezed thickly into the bandana and pinched his nose before giving it a sharp blow.

“It's storm season, Thom,” Doctor Rutledge said. “The longer you're out here, the worse it'll get.”

Ehhh-GSXHTT!

He was starting to feel the strain in his lungs and he fished in his bag, curling his fingers around his rescue inhaler just in case.

“I think you should go back home, Thom,” Doctor Rutledge said. “It looks like the winds are headed this way.”

He could barely see her through his watering eyes.

“Are you sure, doctor? I could go work in one of those more covered tents across the way.”

“No, that isn't necessary. Asha, will you get him home?”

“Yes, I'll do that.”

Doctor Rutledge turned to head back to her work as Thom launched into another fit.

Ehh-tsxSHTT! Ngh'GSHT!

Thom curled in on himself, sneezing rapidly.

Tsgh-GSHT Tsh'GHT! TXGHT!

He blew his nose hard into bandana and surfaced from the fit with a wheezy gasp.

“Hold on,” he croaked, raising the inhaler. “I need this first.”

He took a puff and breathed in the medication, holding it in as long as he could before he started to cough and exhaled nosily.

Asha sighed sympathetically and held out her water bottle. He took a deep swig from it and thanked her.

“Let's go before you get worse,” she said.

They returned to the motorcycle, going slowly along the path because of Thom's swollen eyes. He shoved the helmet over his leaky face and climbed on the bike behind Asha.

The ride back into Luxor was a blur of exhausted sniffling and two very unpleasant sneezes inside the helmet before they pulled up in front of Thom's apartment.

“C'mon,” Asha said gently, taking his arm and leading him inside. He started to climb the two flights of stairs but on the first landing he was forced to pause as another fit took over, wrenching him forward with several forceful sneezes that tore out of him rapid-fire.

Hurhhh-TSGHHH! Ngh-TSGHHT! Hehh....ehh-TSCHHH!

They staggered up the next flight and into Thom's flat. He swallowed two of his prescription pills from the medicine cabinet before slouching down into his sofa and taking another puff of his inhaler.

“I thought leaving England would be the end of all this mess,” he said miserably.

“Oh no, we've got all our own special allergens here too. Storm season is infamous. I'm sure you've been told.”

“I have,” he said. “I probably would still be a bit of mess with my prescription, but I can't believe I managed to forgot taking it at all!”

“I guess we'll see,” Asha said. “There's two months of this dust. Maybe invest in a mask. Lots of people wear them this time of year.”

Eh-TSCHH!

Asha shoved a box of tissues across the coffee table towards Thom.

“And maybe invest in a few more of those too. Sounds like you might need them.”

[krirebr]

So, I've been going back and forth about sharing this here but it's really been dominating my thoughts for the last two days, and while I've talked about it a lot with friends, I'm hoping that writing everything down will help me process things. And maybe other people, especially aspec people might be able to relate.

I mentioned on Wednesday that I'd had a really terrible evening that had really shaken and upset me. Below the cut, I want to share what happened.

TWs for references to depression, aphobia, exclusionism, and bad therapy (there's probably a better word for it but I'm not sure what it would be.)

So some of you know that I started this year with a pretty intense depressive episode. It was bad enough that I had to take a leave of absence from work and pretty much spent that whole time crying in bed. It's taken a lot of work over the last few months to get myself back to a more stable place. A big part of that work has been regularly going to therapy.

I went to therapy on and off as a kid and in college, but not at all since then. All of my previous therapeutic experience was long before I came out as aroace. There's a long, ongoing history of aspec identities being medicalized and pathologized and that's something I was very aware of while looking for a therapist this time around. But I was also really desperate for help. So I chose as wisely as I could and crossed my fingers.

I chose a queer therapist who specialized in LGBTQ issues. I told them I was aroace in my first session and while they didn't seem very familiar at all, they also didn't make me overly explain myself or want to focus on that rather than the very real and urgent issues I had come to them for, which is what I'd been most worried about.

As I continued to meet with them weekly, they would sometimes ask questions about it, and while it was pretty clear they didn't really get it, they were respectful about it and it wasn't interfering with the help I actually needed.

That brings me to my appointment this Wednesday. I didn't have anything really pressing to discuss so they asked about my plans for the week and I mentioned that I was getting my hair cut and I was excited because I've been feeling lately like my hair is really hetero (I use that word instead of straight because my hair is so, so curly 😂) and I was looking forward to having queer hair again. They stopped. "Wait," they said, "I'm confused. Why did you use that word to describe yourself?" It had never occurred to them that aspec identities would be considered part of the queer community. They, in fact, had an incredibly narrow definition of the word queer - gay, just gay. And they didn't consider asexuality or aromanticism to be orientations at all.

My memories of the following conversation are pretty jumbled, but some highlights included such chestnuts as "What if you meet the right person one day?", asserting that the A in LGBTQIA+ stands for ally, there has to be a sexual component to romantic relationships, and "everyone has to have attraction, humans are sexual beings." They also said that we should dig into my childhood going forward because they were sure there was something there that caused this. I had a pretty traumatic middle school experience (bullying and some psychosomatic stuff that stemmed from that) and they were pretty eager to blame all that for this.

I became increasingly defensive and combative as this conversation went on (which if you know me, isn't like me at all). It ended with us both feeling very bad and uncomfortable.

I think they kind of came around a little bit by the end. They seemed open to educating themselves and even sent me a link to an article they'd found after our session. And that's great, I guess? But the whole thing made me want to crawl out of my skin. I cried a lot when I got home.

I'm not exactly sure what to do from here. My initial plan was to go next week, talk through what happened, offer some context for why I had gotten so defensive, and discuss together whether this was going to be a good long-term fit. But that's feeling less and less likely the more I think about it (I haven't been able to stop thinking about it). This is just such a big part of who I am. And it's a part of myself that I like and am proud of! And I just can't imagine a situation where I would ever feel safe talking about this aspect of my life with them. And I don't really want therapy where I'm constantly having to censor myself. So do I even go to my next appointment? I really don't know.

I know there's a lot of hopelessness in the aspec community around getting mental health care and I really don't want to add to that. I don't want to believe that we can't get help for our actual issues without mental health professionals just wanting to fix things that don't actually need to be fixed. And I hope that's not the moral or ultimate outcome of this story. I've talked to my very lovely network of queer friends and several of them have already said that they'll reach out to their contacts to find some recommendations for me. I deserve to get the help that I need in a space that is actually safe. And my need isn't as urgent as I was. I can take my time now to find someone I'm fully comfortable with.

I'm not sure exactly why I shared this. I don't always get so personal on here. And some of you have already heard it (thank you for being such good friends, seriously). But it's just been festering inside of me for the past two days and I really needed to share it. Thank you for listening.

[andtosaturn]

HIGH IN BRIGHTON by FIZZ