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#lance and his family don't get along
gottagobackintime · 1 year
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I find it fascinating to witness the straight audience of any media not being able to pick up what the makers of the movie/show puts down.
It’s like when people reacted to the “You wear fine things well” scene in Our Flag Means Death with “aw, they’re such good friends” whereas the queer audience went “omg, this is happening”. We all had access to the same scene, we’d all watched the build up to that scene but the straight audience wrongly read it as friends/straight whereas the queer audience had suspected they were building up to a romance but this was the confirmation. Even the creator of the show was baffled that people were surprised that Ed and Stede fell in love. Because he thought they had made it obvious.
And as I said, we, the queer audience picked up on it. And I feel like the same thing is happening with Ted Lasso. Do I know that Ted and Trent will get together? No, I am unfortunately not a writer on Ted Lasso. But you can’t deny that there are clues pointing to it. But the straight audience barely pick up the fact that Ted and Trent like each other, be that in a platonic way or romantic way. I’ve seen several reactions to the last episode of season 2 and ONE of them included the scene where Ted reacts to Trent not being in the press room. All of them severely cut down the scene in the parking lot. One of the scenes most of us Ted/Trent truthers point to as a huge piece of evidence for it going canon. The parallel of them meeting in an empty parking lot, just like Ted and his ex-wife and Roy and Keeley. But because Ted and Trent are both men it couldn’t possibly mean anything. And Ted has an ex-wife and a kid so he can’t possibly be into men, as if there is no such thing as being bisexual. “But I’m pretty sure Trent has a family, he has a kid right?” So? He could be divorced, we also have no idea if his daughter has another dad or a mum. And the same thing applies to him, it doesn’t mean he can’t be into men (take also into account all of James Lance’s interviews, and his choice of shirt in one of them, friend of Dorothy anyone? He's the captain of this ship, we're just along for the ride tbh.)
Then we have the wonderful “I’m so not homophobic, in fact, you are homophobic because you think Ted is gay just because he likes musicals and has ‘feminine’ traits” um no… it’s the fact that he kind of acts in a way that an ally wouldn't. Yeah, he called himself an ally in that one episode. But every single person who is now out as queer who at one point considered themselves an ally because "I’m not one of them but I sure think they're neat" raise a hand 🖐️ (been there, done that. Was very into queer things before I realised I myself am one of them). What it always comes down to is "it's pandering", "it's tokenism" (having the main character on the show be queer wouldn't be fucking tokenism), "not everything has to be gay", "why can't men just be friends, there is a severe lack of male friendships on tv". And like the last one makes me go??? There are a MILLION friendships between men on TV. There are even multiple friendships between men in Ted Lasso. Beard and Ted, Ted and Higgins, Ted and Roy, the himbos and so on. Having Ted and Trent become a couple wouldn't really change anything because there are still friendships between men. They also claim that Ted is needed as the "straight without toxic masculinity" representation. As if Beard isn't right there. The man who has no problem going to an immersive show about the menstrual cycle. Has no problem with shrieking when he's surprised and so on.
I also like that if we'd get Ted and Trent together, we'd get two middle aged queer dads. Which isn't that common. It's not even super common to see people realising they're queer late in life on TV, and yet it happens every day. Because let's face it, most queer men on TV kind of look like Colin, and I don't mean that as a bad thing. And I'm looking forward to his storyline. But it's also nice seeing middle aged or old people finding themselves and being allowed to be who they are (see Ed and Stede from OFMD). Also would enjoy seeing people lose their minds when they realise they've been fooled this entire time. It'll be like Black Sails all over again.
I do not have any doubts about the fact that, had Trent or Ted been a woman and they saw Trent give up his career because of Ted's influence, they sure as hell wouldn't protest people thinking they'd become a couple. But because it's two men it's just delusional for some reason (homophobia).
What I'm saying is, it's clear that the straight audience has a hard time picking up subtext and clues that the makers are planting. Because they've never had to do that. Because they are always clearly represented. They don't have to look for minor side characters and hope that they might be queer. Because the main character is straight and most of the supporting cast too. When you've grown up with a lack of representation or with representation that is meant to be subtext, you'll learn to pick up on it. And you do look at media differently. I just wish that the straight audience could listen to us for once, without getting defensive and dancing around the fact that they are uncomfortable relating to a character that turned out to be queer.
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EPISODE 8 😭😭 THE FEELS
the first line being 'look, you didn't ask to be a half blood' 😭😭 this is the shows equivalent to the good kid reprise
The wooden sword 😂
they have my respect for showing a luke and percy practicing sword fight scene SERIOUSLY the rest of the riordanverse percy still hears advice from luke while swordfighting and that is a plot point that is so special to me okay
the transition from luke to percy as he asks for single combat it's SO CINEMATIC I LOVE IT
The threatening aura of ares after being grumpy and comedic is chefs kiss about dayum time
I wish they kept the scene where percy says something along the lines of "we didn't mention any dreams" when ares yells that gods don't dream but ofc tv!percy knows all
cue one of the most epic sword fight scenes of the century
IM THE SON OF POSEIDON NOW FACE THE TIDE INSIDE OF MEEEEEEEE
NO SERIOUSLY SOMEBODY MAKE AN EDIT
THE SIZE OF PERCY COMPARED TO THE WAVE, THE WAVE ENVELOPING BOTH OF THEM
The camera shots are too good I swear
Ok that was short
I kinda missed the police cars and the sirens in the background and the reporters and all that chaos
sallys in the breeze she's in the trees
Alecto redemption arc wasnt on my bingo card but I actually like it guys
THE NECKLACE
percy staring at annabeth as she makes it harder each day to believe no one cares about him will never get old ❤️
“Wheres the glory in that” lazy ppl dont need glory
Rip lance reddick❤️
the next time hes going to roast zeus’s family percy is going to be older and more intimidating ZEUS IS GOING TO LISTEN and thats something so amazing
the way that percy fell to the ground with his arms on his head by instinct as zeus raised his lightning bolt
POSEIDON YASSSSS
”perseus” wait a sec is this the first reveal of percys real name?
THEIR ACTING AS ALWAYS 10/10
”can i ask you a question?’ DID YOU EVER HAVE SOMEONE KISS YOU IN A CROWDED ROOM AND EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS WAS MAKING FUN OF YOU
Dude was like no hon i aint gon tell bout what i dream about your mother kaboom peace out
huggggg (btw guys im in this show im the camper in the background clapping for the hug) i love that laugh from percy like ‘yep this is how we roll now not bad’
I love that theyre using that position to just ominously talk about clarisse not even letting go, just hugging it out talking about the traitor
Luke and annabeth in the same frame!!! We got a hand on annabeths shoulder AND NOTHING ELSE
THE CINEMATOGRAPHY OF THE NEXT SCENE IS UNPARALLELED
THE WAY THE FIREWORKS GET DARKER AND DARKER AS LUKE IS CAUGHT
Backbiter glowed up fr now he can make interdimensional portals
also percy knows everything as usual.
the girls are fightinggggg
”im sorry” *luke taking advantage to slash percy in the arm* you will always live in my heart
The heartbreak in lukes eyes
the hearbreak in annabeths eyes
also that shot of leah against the bright lights of the fireworks makes her look so pretty
ok we’re just going to gloss over the sadness of the betrayal
Can i just say i love chirons casting SO MUCH im so excited to see him party next season
“I am percy jackson” slay
ANNABETHS PIGTAILS ARE SO CUTE
OFC SHES GOING TO DISNEY WORLD
the way shes just worrying about what it might do to kill her 🥺
annabeth: *Exists*
percy: ❤️🥺😁🥰
THE LIL FLOWER
HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG
bro literally gave us the percy and sally reunion of our dreams
”your survival is the key to my rise” get lost grim reaper
petition to call kronos grandpa every dream
ILL BE BACK NEXT SUMMER YOULL SEE ME AGAIN ILL BE BACK NEXT SUMMER ILL SURVIVE TILL THEN
Percy arming himself with the umbrella
I BETTER GET SEASON 2
Woooooooooooo gabe dieeeeee
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klaissance · 2 months
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nobody asked but here is my pitch for a princess and the pauper klance au
Princess Allura of Altea generally likes her life. She lives in a palace with her father, King Alfor, her quirky tutor and longtime friend Coran, and her lady-in-waiting Romelle who she definitely is not in love with. Don't worry about it.
Her being totally not in love with Romelle is something to not worry about at all because actually, as of fairly recently, Allura is engaged! To a man (ew) she's never met (double ew): Prince Keith of Marmora. Their matrimony is to solidify an alliance between Altea and Marmora which, if everyone's being honest, is mostly to haul Altea out of its recent troubles. The kingdom is floundering and its people have been suffering for too long; this alliance with Marmora offers a fresh start and a royal wedding promotes economic stimulation, etc etc politics politics
Allura loves her people and her father so she's gonna suck it up and do this. But she can't and won't be jazzed about it all the time. Sometimes she wishes she could be anyone but herself, with the freedom to make selfish choices.
Anyway down in the town there is this boy named Lance McClain and he just so happens to have a vaguely similar facial structure to Altea's princess (rip this has to be a blue-eyed Lance story to work, huh) and he works at the dress emporium under Monsieur Iverson who is, frankly, an abusive boss. But Iverson is funding Lance's sister's education. The McClains need this, and so Lance pricks his fingers and works every waking hour for pennies that he never even gets to see. Lance loves his family so he's gonna do it but he can't and won't be jazzed about it all the time. Sometimes he wishes he could be anyone but himself, with the freedom to make selfish choices.
do u feel me on this guys
also Allura has five cats named Onyx, Ruby, Emerald, Sapphire, and Topaz and she loves them very much. But Sapphire has been acting strange recently...
Lance has this cat that he calls Blue that he doesn't actually have but she shows up night after night at his window and he feeds her and she lays on his lap while he works and he loves her very much
......it's the same cat *hold for applause*
anyway Romelle takes Allura into town to "run errands" or something but really it's just a date and one of Allura's last tastes of freedom before she gets hitched to whoever this Keith dude is
and Sapphire slips away and dashes through the streets and Allura chases her down and finds her perched on a windowsill in an alley being fed by a stranger who looks a little familiar and oh--
Lance and Allura finally meet and look at each other and are like woah we could definitely be siblings genetics are so weird
Bonded by their shared cat they get along splendidly and have a nice and surprisingly deep talk about their respective plights, and Allura promises to call on Lance soon
The next morning Coran and Romelle go to the princess only to find her bed empty save for a note that says she's taken the cats and run away...
The note is sus and then Sapphire shows up (from spending the night at Lance's.) Coran and Romelle know Allura would never leave just Sapphire behind, so they're immediately Not Buying It but they don't know who they can trust, and also this is a disaster because Prince Keith and his entourage are literally coming to visit today so they need to fix this asap
Romelle remembers the boy from the village who looked weirdly like Allura and she has the best/worst idea of all time...
Cue "To Be A Princess" as performed by Coran and Romelle at Lance, who by the end of the song is unclockable he's so good at princess cosplay
When "Allura" appears at dinner as scheduled, Alfor's advisor Zarkon and his shitty son Lotor are shook but they stay quiet
you guys lotor as preminger is so funny pLEASE
AND THEN KEITH SHOWS UP
Keith and his diplomat friends, The Holts, and his captain of the guard Shiro, pull up to dinner to meet Keith's future wife
Keith's a gay man he's not thrilled about this. She's certainly a handsome woman, if her portraits are to be believed, but there's nothing to be done about it. Lifelong bummer for Keith. Such is princedom.
So Keith and co. show up in Altea and they meet the princess and Keith swears she's a little broader in the shoulders and sharper in the jaw than he'd expected but chalks it up to shitty portraiture. He'll hire the court painter from Marmora when they're married.
Lance in his princess costume is like "oh lord he's fine" but then they go on a bunch of weird dates and mostly bicker a bunch because Keith hates that he's forced to be here and Lance is just sort of like that
meanwhile Allura's like busting her own ass out of the mines and lotor sings how can i refuse *hold for standing ovation*
and since Sapphire didn't get kidnapped with the other cats she's still around and Lance talks to her in the bath and is generally just being silly goofy and Keith happens to walk by and hear Lance talking in his normal tone to somebody named "Blue" and the door happens to be a little open and Keith happens to peek--he doesn't even know why he literally doesn't even like women--and wait just a fucking second that is a boy and a wig on the floor and Keith to himself is like 'um should i complain about being lied to, something wack is going on here' and then he's like 'wait I'm gay and he's hot let's see how this plays out' and says nothing LMAO
but then their little dates get way more interesting because Keith is trying to tease out this secret and also is like,, actually interested
maybe they do a horseback riding date where Lance gets to wear pants and have the big platinum wig tied back and he feels a little more like himself and he and Keith hardly even bicker anymore they just sort of have a great time together and Lance feels a little insane for this whole thing but he really likes him but he has to tell him the truth and he's literally about to admit it
but then Lotor comes back from checking on Allura in the mines and knows the princess at the palace is a fake so he calls Lance out and rips the wig off, the whole thing, and Lance is thrown in the dungeon when moments ago he was literally a hair's breadth away from kissing Keith on the mouth UGH life is so cruel
Lotor and Zarkon convince Alfor that Allura is dead and they plot to strike and stage their coup during her funeral or something idk
But meanwhile Romelle and Allura and the cats are power-lesbianing their way out of the mines, and meanwhile meanwhile Keith busts Lance out of jail and they go also to the mines to try to save Allura
just four gays and their cats standing at the mines like ok what now
they bust into the funeral proceedings and wreck Lotor's shit, Allura definitely throws him over her shoulder and skips him like a rock and they explain everything to Alfor
Lotor and Zarkon go to jail and Altea is saved even without the marriage alliance because Allura and Romelle found extra stores of quintessence locked in the geodes in the mines or whatever
Lance is now so thoroughly sponsored by not one but two royal families that his family will want for nothing ever again--his siblings are put on royal scholarship to any school of their choosing in either Altea or Marmora. Lance himself has always wanted to travel, so he does, and he writes letters to Keith the whole time and when he returns Keith is waiting for him and they do a big gay double wedding with Allura and Romelle just like in the Barbie movie <3
the end
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konaanaria13 · 1 year
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Alcohol is Toxic as well
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Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader
Warnings: a lot of swearing cuz that's my fav thing to do.... ahm idk just like oh google translated French, Its a big one and I've been working on it for a while so I don't remember!
word count: around 8K
so its enemies to Lovers but also their toxic friends who are friends but just always fight and kind of are very nasty to each other yep yep yep!
nice.... (also rly bad grammar I think, nobody proof reads this)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
It was as if we we're just meant to like each other.
Both of our Families we're high in status so it was just natural that we had to spend a lot of time in the presence of rich people.
Wearing the right clothes and The right smiles, It was rather a surprise for my Mother when she heard the absolute disliking I took in The Leclerc boys.
Arthur and Charles the most since Arthur was just always repeating what Charles was doing and oh gods Charles was so irritating.
Enzo wasn't. But since I already Disliked two I went for the three while talking.
Sooner or Later My mother made me wear the Ferrari colours and stand in the paddock and having to watch the races so everybody knew that we we're connected of sorts.
She wanted me to marry rich and in High status so she could be happy.
Me and Charles we're different, he liked car's and I like Quiet study sessions so we simply didn't get along very well, but we had to spend a lot of time together as my mother and his mother we're basically best friends even though they we're two completely different people.
But it wasn't as if we didn't talk, we talked a lot, me and Charles the most since we we're about the same age and it was easy to talk with him, to sneak out at a gathering and get drunk on a rooftop talking about our lives as if we weren't screaming the dumbest insult at each other five seconds earlier.
It was an understandment that even though we didn't like each other we we're in the same boat both holding our heads high and smiling when the camera was in our face.
But Charles family was supportive, I loved his mother almost more than mine, but i couldn't since she wasn't my real mother.
My parents always needed me to be the perfect Daughter, I was the middle child before me came the Golden Boy who went on as a doctor and below me came the baby Boy who sailed the world and did whatever he wanted with our parents money but never got scolded for it.
I stayed. not that I wanted my parents we're cruel... or rather strict, They words stung almost harder than they're open palm even though my mother hasn't dared to lay her hands on me. at every gathering I liked having the Leclerc family there, for Charles mother to pull me into a hug, for all three of the boys to kiss both of my cheeks with a smile and for Charles to notice my exhaustion.
"You look wonderful" Charles handed me another glass of champagne.
We we're on a yacht in Monaco, a weekend before the race. The Stroll Family had organised some of the upper class people to attend it and My mother couldn't miss the opportunity to show of her new earing's, she looked beautiful as always.
"Thank you" I took a sip and we watched as Arthur and Lance talked.
The boy was talented and attractive. Just maybe I could try...
"Do you like him?" I ask Charles and he raises an eyebrow.
"As a driver I mean? Lance? He seems nice-"
"Very nice. He's naïve" Charles agrees and I roll my eyes as Charles takes out a whisk of Alcohol and pours some into my empty glass of champagne.
"How's University?" Charles asked.
"Fucking boring. I've been stuck on like five paragraphs and I have to attend this stupid Party rather than go to an actual one on my Saturday evening" I complain and he laughs.
"It does surprise me that you chose law" he says and I frown
"Why's that?" I ask annoyed.
"You just never seemed the type-" Charles started and I rolled my eyes again
"Cause I'm a woman?" This time he rolls his eyes
"No! Oh my god you always have to do this!"
"Maybe if you weren't a sexist dick-"
"I was ten! And I was simply surprised that you wanted to go karting! It wasn't about you being female!" He whispered so he didn't have to scream.
"Well I beat you anyways-" The race of luck I liked to call it.
"You could never beat me now so"
"Yes but the last time we raced I did so be quiet" The pure luck i had in that race was unbelievable.
"I am a literal formula one driver and you have karted twice how could you beat me now?"
"I don't have to beat you again. I already did so it doesn't matter" Charles looked like he was gonna explode.
"Your such a cunt" Charles whispered under his breath and I chuckle.
"Says the raging asshole" I mutter and suddenly I feel a harsh slap on the back of my head.
"Ow!" Charles had already turned to slap the person back just as I did but we both turned away as it was Enzo.
"Y/n your mother told me to tell you that if she see's you roll your eyes again she will kick you out of the house and Charles Mamon said that if she see's you insulting her again she will also throw you out of the house-" Enzo had that strict look on his face but me and Charles glanced at each other
"I don't live with her anymore-"
"Me neither"
"Both of you. Be nice and fucking smile."
"Yes." I whisper and Enzo leaves.
"You wanna ditch?" It was maybe thirty seconds after Enzo told us to be nice.
"Yeah. You got you car?" We slowly made our way to the stairway only to be greeted by Arthur and Lance.
"Hey- oh Lance its nice to meet you I'm y/n I'm sure Leclerc has mentioned me?" Charles pressed his lips into a thin line.
"Yes... nothing nice I believe" I glare at Charles.
"Snitch" Charles mumbles
"We'll he's simply always embarrassed because i am a better driver." I laugh it off and Charles roll's his eyes.
"So not true do not believe that-"
"I have a video? Dm me on Instagram and I'll send it to you? Maybe we can talk more on there as well?" I flirt my way in a circle so that now the two boys were in our spots and we we're at the staircase.
"Oh- yeah sure?" Lance smiled like a puppy.
"No. Your not getting her socials. Arthur take him away." Charles put his hand on my waist and pulled me away and off the boat.
"Hey! I was getting myself a date?" I push his hand off.
"Your not dating another driver on the grid!" He objects and I push him away.
"And why not?" I walk on the pond until I reached the side walk going into the harbour.
"Because your mother won't allow it- come on I'll drive you home? Or anywhere come on?" I pushed him away.
"Leclerc fuck off, I'm calling a Taxi it's fine" I hated when he did that. Interfered in a perfectly fine build up.
"Stop being a bitch and come with me" he grabbed my wrist
"Oh I'm being the bitch?! You always fucking do this and I'm so not putting up with it"
"Y/n I will literally drag you come on"
"Don't you dare" We've been in this situation before, if he pissed me off he would always make me go with him anyway and either walk me home or drive me home or drive me to his place it was all the same.
"Are you coming?"
"No go away." I try to take my wrist away but he pulls me closer and there it is again. When he is close and for a second I forget all the insults and stupid remarks he makes, all the pranks and games he's played on me. All of the rumours he made up and all of the harsh slaps i got because of him. In a second where he is so near its almost frightening me.
"Please y/n? I'll drive you home and you can sulk and cry about how much your parents hate you there." But it only lasted a second.
"You fucking asshole" I slapped him
"Let me go or I'll scream" I've slapped Charles plenty of times and every time he looked like he wanted to straight up punch me back but he never did.
"I will literally choke you to death" I couldn't help but laugh.
"I really didn't think of you as the kinky type Leclerc" I chuckle and Charles rolls his eyes.
"Come on" He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me to his car.
It was funny how i never got interested in formula one over the years or racing of any sorts, even though I had to attend a good amount of the races.
"My mother is calling" Charles informed me about ten minutes into the drive.
"Yes Mamon" I looked in the backseat to see the duffle bag of Clothes
"Charles where are you two? Y/n moth is about to explode in anger, reporters came and you two are nowhere to be found" I chuckled while i got some boxers and one of Charles shirts out of the bag.
"Yeah Y/n got sick so we had to leave? I told Arthur to tell you" Charles raised his eyes brow at me as I put the shirt on and took the dress off beneath it.
"What its uncomfortable?" Charles looked way embarrassed as his eyes glued to the road.
"Noh Chére, Arthur ne nous a pas dit" and there was the French again.
"mère j'emmène Y/n dans mon appartement elle va bien" I heard his Mother frown
"S'il te plaît?"
"Fine, I'll tell her mother something"
"Mercy"
"Mercy Pascale!" I shout into the phone and Charles chuckles as he puts the phone away.
"What did you tell her?" I ask and Charles shrugs.
"Your coming to my apartment because your sick we can get drunk and watch a movie?"
"Do you maybe have....?" Weed brownies, It was Pierre's recipe and the first time I had them I wanted to merry Pierre.
"I can't I have a race next weekend" The stupid FIA and their stupid drug test...
"Yes but do you have?" Maybe it was mean but it wasn't my fault that Charles became a driver
"I do and yes you can have some" I smiled at him tossing the rest of my clothes in the back.
"Thanks gods its night or people will think we fucked" Charles says after it got dark.
"Hah?" I look up from my phone putting my legs up.
"Your dressed in my old shirt and my boxers what would you think?"
"That their comfortable" I remark and he smiles.
"Can you put your seatbelt on?" He asks after another beat of comfortable silence
"Are you worried about me?" I can't help but smile.
"No we're about to pass The police." I roll my eyes putting the seatbelt on.
As we get to his apartment my mother calls me.
"Are you absolute mental?!" Charles leaves me alone in the car.
"You cannot just leave! I will talk to you Father!"
"Mom Just- I was sick and I'm at Charles I'm sorry I should've told you? " I tried to avoid arguing with her.
"I'm still here so I won't talk about this now but your going to the race next weekend and I won't tell you father about your stupidity"
"Yes yes. Mom Leclerc is waiting I've got to go ill talk tomorrow" Charles was waiting he opened the door for me and helped me out giving me his coat so I wasn't completely naked in the street.
"Thanks." I mutter And he lets me hold onto his arm noticing my unstable state.
"How much did you drink?" He asks and I shrug.
"I had like three shots before I got on the yacht" I mutter.
"Why didn't you tell me I would've drove slower I don't want you throwing up on me."
"I'm not gonna throw up on two shots of vodka Leclerc" He opens the door for me and I enter his apartment.
"Never say never" Charles mutters with a laugh.
"I'm just annoyed at my mother" I explain and jump up on the counter while Charles gets me a glass of water as well as a shot.
"You're being nice today?" I take the shot
"Had a rough week" He says and I smile.
"What movie do you wanna watch?"
"Something scary so we can laugh" I ask and Charles takes another shot to survive the night.
"Alright you chose I'll get you your brownies" I jump down and find myself into the couch where I put Anabella on.
The next morning was torture. Not only did this bitch let me sleep on the couch and not bother to put me into the guest bedroom he also left with no breakfast in the fridge.
I cleaned the kitchen from last night's drinking session and took a shower until a friend picked me up with a fresh change of clothes.
The Monaco Grand Prix was the most grandiose GP and Everybody wanted to be the one holding the trophy at the end of the dat.
I arrived at the Paddock at Saturday walking in all black and wearing my sunglasses so people got the hint that I wasn't in the mood to talk.
"Yo! Y/n" Pierre kissed my cheek and I wrap my hands around his neck.
"Hey" I take my Sunglasses off.
"You don't look good.
"I was up late studying. I had an essay to write till today and I forgot about it."
"Come I'll walk you" The alpine boy hocked his arm with mine and walked with me to the Ferrari paddock.
"Leclerc hasn't returned any of my calls since last weekend do you know if he's alright?" I ask and Pierre shrugs.
"Has been running around a lot doesn't really have time to breath" Pierre says and I nod.
"Do you think he will win?" I ask and Pierre sighs
"I mean Ferrari started pretty bad but I think if he gets a good pole position then yes. I believe, also your here" He gives me a gentle smile and i raise an eyebrow
"I'm here?"
"Yeah don't you read headlines? Your like his lucky charm" I stop walking and stare at him puzzled.
"Like he performs better if he knows your watching, He would never admit it but it show's, every time you attend the race he relaxes of sorts because he knows your gonna support him no matter what." Unconditional Love. Pascale told me that one's...
"Its easy for you two to love each other, you don't expect anything"
"So he never has to worry about performing bad which leads to him performing good" Pierre talked as if he didn't just made me realize things.
"Oh." Oh
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that he will kill me" Pierre laughs it off and I look up to see us standing in front of the Ferrari paddock.
"Don't worry, our little secret as always." He smile's and I bite my lip as I wat for Pierre to leave so I can walk into the Paddock but he stay's which must only mean one thing.
I turn around Charles smiling down at me.
"Hey" he kissed my cheeks and I greet him.
"Hey, how are you? Why haven't you picked up your phone?" I scold him and he rolls his eyes.
"I was busy calm down-"
"I am calm Charles but you can't just ignore me-"
"Hey Pierre" He ignores me greeting Pierre.
"Oh fuck you" I walk away from Charles into the Paddock And putting my sunglasses back on.
Charles got P1. It was rather surprising. The car wasn't that fast but Charles knew how to push its limits.
"Rather surprising" I set in the Paddock as Charles assistant comments on the subject with a down right look.
"Why? Charles is an excellent driver no one should expect less of him" I snap rather angrily and she nods embarrassed.
"I just meant-" Charles enters the Paddock getting out of the car.
"You did good" he walked over to me taking the bottle of water beside me.
"Best I could" He didn't look at me.
"Are you alright?" I reach out but he almost flinches.
"Yes I'm just stressed that's all love, don't worry" He makes sure to look me in the eyes now so that I know he isn't lying.
"Alright, yeah I'll see you tonight? After media?" I ask and he nods.
"Come by? we can have a drink?" He proposes and I nod.
"I'll meet you there" He let's me touch him, A brief second where his fingers brush mine.
In the evening I waited in the lounge for Charles, then i waited in my room, until I went to his knocking on his door.
"Yes I'm coming!" He sounded stressed and when he opened the door he stared at me.
"Shit- fuck I'm so sorry I completely forgot" He was in his boxer's and his shirt was unbuttoned, it wasn't like I haven't seen him naked, we ended up skinny dipping with Pierre and his friends a few year's back but it was always a pleasure.
But gods, he looked like a mess, his face was slightly red and his eyes we're as if he had cried and his lip's trembled when he talked.
"Jesus Leclerc- you look horrible what's gotten into you?" His hair was wet from a shower and i stepped inside reaching to touch his face.
"I just don't think-" he swallowed running his hand through his hair.
"I don't think I can lose this race, I don't think I can" He was having a panic attack. I pushed the door close and took my shoes off.
"Come on" the first time I saw Charles have a Panic attack was after he lost a karting event, I didn't know why it was so important to him since I rarely listened to them talk about the importance of races but I noticed his jittering fingers so I followed him into the cabin an. I tried to get him to breath, Enzo came thankfully and got him to calm down so I left them. Maybe it sounded cruel but I wasn't going to do him good back then since we we're so immature and I might even say I would have used it against him.
"Hey come on you wanna take a bath?"
He likes cold bath's
I tried to remember what I did the last time when I was alone with him like this but it was all gone.
"No I just need to breath" He looked up to the ceiling his eyes we're read, his skin felt hot and his breathing was uneven always taking one faster than he ended the last one.
" come on you need to breath" I lead him to the balcony where we we're met with the chill air and he set down, his hand's came up to his chest and his fingers trembled as he swallowed a sob after the other.
"Oh fuck- I'm so fucking done Jesus y/n I can't do this anymore" He cried out and I rubber my hands over his knees.
"Come on try to breath you fine" I waited until he leaned into my touch to take his hands where i made sure to give him a rhythm, I took his hands up when i wanted him to breath in and pushed them back down when He should exhale.
"Your doing great" I nodded at him and he nodded back.
After fifteen minutes he was calm and quiet.
I got up and got him water with some gin.
"You need a hug?" I ask and he shakes his head.
"Ew y/n" he was fine. I breathed through.
"I should've called Enzo" I mutter as he drinks the water.
"No. Your good." I don't think he was able to complete his sentences that night.
"I'm sorry. I'm really stressed." Short words. He was looking into the night sky trying to find the stars but the lights around us we're to bright.
"Do you want me to stay?" I ask and he find my eyes.
"Yes. Please." He adds and I smile standing up.
"Come on" he took my hand and I lead him to bed where he fell in comfortably.
I looked for his clothes from where i took one of his shirts and changed into them before laying down beside him.
"I am still angry at you" I whisper and he raises an eyebrow
"You couldn't have bothered to put me in the guest bedroom could you?" I ask and I see his faint smile.
"Room's are for people. Not for dogs." I gasp and slap his arm and I can't help but smile when he laughs.
"Gosh I wish I could help you" I whisper and I notice how harsh my words we're.
He didn't seem to mind.
"You are helping me" He says and I smile.
"I hate you with a burning passion" I tell him and he nods.
"Good. At least one thing that doesn't change" He says and I laugh.
"Yeah" He fell asleep first, It was late when I set up and brought my knees to my chest sucking in a shaky breath with a following sob.
It was Hurting me, of course he was an asshole, he did terrible things and made me cry uncountable times.
But I would never wish to have to sit there again, his shaky hands in mine, it was so fucking scary. I felt as if his heart was going to stop any second, His skin felt so cold, His eyes we're losing their pretty colour into a red teary Breath taking pain.
"Fuck" I let my nails dig into my skin.
"Be quiet" He turned around and I scoff returning to reality.
"Fuck off"
"Shut it" He frowned taking the blanket
"Wanker" I fell asleep.
The first time I was interested in a formula one race was in 2020 Baku race where Daniel and Max where on edge, I found myself in a bit of a crush for the Dutch Driver so I paid attention.
The second time was the morning after I had to hold his shaky hands in mine trying to be as steady as possible for him.
The entire race my skin was so itchy, so I scratched it off staining my fingernails.
My mother hated it when i did that but I didn't even notice till the end of the race.
Charles stayed in P1 for 80% of the race, at the start he lost it to Max but quickly got it back when max ran into a wall because his rear end hit the wall.
The second time he lost it was because of a pit stop fail and I swear I was ready to punch the crew member myself.
"Just push a bit" I muttered and he did, he caught up pretty fast as he thankfully changed to soft tires.
When he won My heart skipped a beat, I heard his scream over the radio, It was so full of beauty I needed to breath.
I took the headphones off and waited.
"Y/n Charles asked if you could put the headphones on?" One thing I hated more than Charles was Phone calls (which i got used to) or even worse radio calls (which really wasn't necessary for survival)
"Tell him he can come find me, I'm not talking to him over a radio." I wasn't that desperate was I?
"Yes ma'am" His engineer told the message to Charles and then Looked at me blankly.
"I'm not telling her that" The engineer said into the radio and I smile.
"Did he call me a raging cunt?" I ask and The engineer looks at me in shock
"Yes." He laughs.
"Tell him he can drive into a wall for all I care" I leave the paddock soon after not wanting to be on Charles last person list.
He called me when I got back to my apartment.
"Where are you?" He was clearly in a rush.
"At my apartment?" I asked as if I didn't ditch him.
"Come to the party?" He asked and I laughed.
"I'm not really in the mood-"
"Y/n i just won the most important race in my career put your favourite dress on and get the fuck to the Party or I'm gonna drag you here" His voice was filled with laughter, even though he wanted to sound convincing or demanding he was so over joyed that it was simply impossible for him to be angry.
"Do you want me to pick you up?"
"No, no, you go have fun I'll join you in an hour" He hummed and I Heard the voices around him pulling him away.
"Promise you'll come?"
"Yes. I'll be there don't worry"
"I'll come to your apartment if you don't"
"I'm already on the way" I lie before hanging up and phone down.
I chose a red dress for Charles victory and made sure to wear the Necklace his Mother gave to me on his account on my birthday since he was 'occupied'.
I called an Taxi and took a shot so I wasn't completely sober when I got there.
It was rather cold, the party was on a massive yacht and It was almost overflowing.
I made my way up the steps carefully looking for Anybody I knew.
People seemed to know me and some came over to say hi but my brain was completely shut down.
"Y/n!" It was Pierre, Lovely Pierre who had a girl in his lap and called me over handing me his drink.
"Why did you leave early? Charles was worried! Where is he? Charles!"
"Pierre the night just started how much did you drink? " I laugh and Pierre took his drink back rolling his eyes at me.
"Are you really the right person to mother me? Miss let's see who can chug the most beer? When she was 17?" I laugh.
"Exactly I was 17 how old are you right now? 12?" Pierre scoffed and I looked around spotting Charles.
He wore a black suit and a white shirt underneath the first three buttons undone and he was talking to Max.
He looked pretty, his cheeks we're flushed red and he had a glass of cranberry vodka in his hands which was even more attractive now that i think about it.
"Pierre calm down on the drinking I'm going over to Charles yeah?" He gave me a thumbs up and I smile at the girl apologetic before making my way over to the bar.
"Hey Max" I ignore Charles leaning in front of him.
"Hey Y/n" He noticed my intention thankfully and decided on Ignoring Charles as well.
Charles put his hands on my waist and pulled me closer to him and Max laughed at me as I rolled my eyes at him leaning back comfortably.
"Clingy much?" I ask and he gives me the glass of vodka.
"Its an open bar for you" He tell me and I smile.
"Why be as clingy as you want then" I take the glass.
"Somebody know the real value" Max mutters and I raise an eyebrow in question.
"Free alcohol" He explains and I laugh.
"Congratulations on p2 btw" Max scoff's.
"Thank you but no thank you"
"What? P2 is amazing! It just proves that next time you will so better" I slap his arm as he roll's his eyes.
"You know for all the things you two say behind each other's backs you do make a good couple" Max leaves us and I scoff's pushing Charles away and turning to him.
"Red for me?" He asks ignoring Max's comment.
"No for Carlos I wouldn't wear shit for you." I drink my drink.
"Really? I'm pretty sure I chose that necklace for your 20th?" Charles picked the small red heart shaped gemstone.
"It was from your mother."
"No! I chose it and I wanted to give it to you myself but I had a race you cunt" he dropped it, my skin missing his touch.
"Liar! Your mother didn't tell me you had a race and we all knew you didn't chose it you we're off somewhere while I had to spend five hours in a thight dress smiling for pictures. " I scoffed at him and he stared at me.
"It was a Sunday. I had a race in Spa Belgium. My mother didn't tell you because she didn't want to worry your Mother who always made a big fuss about it and would've want you to join me. But it was your birthday and you hate to attend the races" He explained and I swallowed.
"I got you that necklace a month even before your birthday. I got it In France, me and Pierre we're driving around all afternoon because I knew you wanted That exact one. It was the one you asked your Father to buy you that summer" Charles just talked and explained while i stared at him, how could such an insufferable annoying little shit be such a sweetheart all of the sudden rather has always been and how was I only noticing it now? Charles kept defending himself for another 5 minutes calling me a raging cunt five times as well.
"Thank you" I interrupt him at some point.
"It's one of my favourite necklaces. Thank you" It became my favourite in that moment.
"and I don't hate attending your races"
After another two drinks Lando and Carlos came over and started to talk to Charles about the race.
"Lando you wanna dance?" I asked the brit and he Looked at Charles for an answer.
Charles wasn't listening so he just shrugged and offered me his hand.
"Why not" He let me walk behind him until we got on the dance floor where he put his hands on my waist and guided me to the music.
"Did you and Charles fight?" He asked over the music leaning down so i would hear him.
"I mean we always fight" I shrug letting my hands fall around his neck.
"Yes but like why did you want to dance with me and not with him?" He asked and i raise an eyebrow.
"Maybe Because i don't like Charles?" I laugh and Lando scoffs.
"To be honest The first time i saw you two i thought you we're dating" I laugh at his stetment.
"But then you trippee him and walked over him so I was like nah... But it did take Carlos to tell me that you weren't dating so i would belive it.
"Oh?" I laugh at him and He smiled.
"Well We're really not- so yeah I'm single like a Pringel" I joke and he laugh's again.
The first time I met Lando Charles had told him that I was a huge McLaren hater which obviously wasn't true but Lando believed him and would straight up ignore me for a month.
Carlos confronted him for me and then he laughed at the both of us for a week before clearing it all up.
"Come on let's get another drink before i start sobering up again" Lando took my hand and got us back to the bar where I ordered two beer's on Charles account.
"I can pay its fine" Lando tried but i Scoffed.
"Charles is paying don't worry" I hand him the bottle and he smiles.
The night went away quick and soon the people started to leave, Lando had pulled me into his lap as we set in a couch cirlce where the other drivers had started to gather around aswell.
"To be honest I though I was gonna spin out in the fifth lap but i somehow stayed in control" Lance had started talking to Lando and I watched as the two drivers exchanged infos about they're car's.
"Y/n whats your favorite car?"
"Oh I'm not really intrested in car's" I sip on my drink and they laugh.
"Its a Ferrari" Charles set down beside me and I waved a Pierre who took the seat beside Charles.
"Hm?" I Raise my eyebrow.
"Your favorite car is a Ferrari." He says and I smile.
"Is it now?" I ask and he nods taking my hand.
"Yes so you can get down from the McLaren now." He yanked at my wrist and I almost fell off Lando but Lando made sure to Hold me not paying attention to Charles.
"Ow fuck you" i take my hand away from him as he smiles.
"Y/n i swear if you fuck one of the Drivers im calling your mother" Charles says and I scoff.
"You wouldn't dare! And im not fucking anybody anyways... just having fun" I turn away from him but he doesn't let me.
"I'm being sirius. Nobody on the grid."
"How about I fuck you engineer and check if he will be able to focus on you again while I'm in that fucking garage?" I push his buttons.
"Y/n I'm not joking-"
"Stay out of my love life Leclerc. It doesn't concern you." I spat and Charles stared at me for a while, My head kept spinning and gods his lips looked angelic.
"Don't be like that" he asked and I swallowed harshly.
"You were the one who just tried to push me off a man's lap"
"I didn't push you off your over reacting"
"Maybe because i've been drinking for five hours straight to a party you made me come to?" Charles noted my comment and nodded then turning away.
"Well good point, still you try to much Xavi and I'm actually gonna punch you" Charles Grabbed his beer bottle and I scoff.
"Xavi and I have already fucked-"
"No!" Charles and his nöh's we're rather interesting.
"Yës!" I mocked him and he yanks my hand again.
"Say your joking!" He pull's me off Lando's lap and I stand up so that Lando let's go off my hip.
"Make me" I laugh and jump over some peoples feet as Charles launges up to catch me.
"Y/n i swear to god! Say your joking" I run through some people and out on the open where Charles catches me pushing me against the rails. His hand's lock me in place and I push mine on his arms trying to push him off
"What if I'm not?" I ask and he groan's his hand falling on my waist.
"I'm gonna push you off this boat" Charles said and I smile.
"Push me" I dare him and suddenly his hand's come up beneath my thighs picking me up and I shriek putting my arms around his neck and wrapping my legs around his waist as he set's me down on the railing.
"Okay, okay fine I'm kidding! Don't let go" I eased when he didn't push me further and simply let me sit on the rail and look down on him.
Charles breathed through and let his head fall in my lap for a bit.
"Your a torture"
"The best you can get" I lift his head he smiles.
"I don't get us" he says and I nod.
"Yeah you we're about to kill me and now your simping for me again, chose a side will you?" I laugh and he groans again.
"You wanna go home?"
"Can I sleep in an actual bed rather than Your old couch?" I ask and he scoffs
"That's a brand new couch" he protests and I frown.
"Alright get me down" His hand's came up on my thighs again and he put's me down and guides me back to the bar so he can pay his hand resting on my lower back.
"Alright we're off" Charles Kissed Pierre on the cheeks and I hugged Lando kissing his cheeks.
"Bye" I hit Pierre on the back off his head and ducked behind Charles when he hit me back.
"Fuck you" He muttered and Charles guided me down the yacht.
"The cab should be here any minute"
"Ugh" I took my phone out and leaned against his chest with my back.
"What are you doing?" He put his head on my shoulder.
"Following Lando On Instagram" I mumble as I go to DM him
"Why?"
"Maybe we can go out sometimes" I muse and he snatches my phone putting it in his pocket.
"No" I roll my eyes.
"Jesus I'm just being friendly Leclerc, give me my phone"
"No your fine, come on get in the cab" I stumble along the pavement until I Reach the car where He opens the door for me and lets me inside.
I take my Highheels off and he takes them holding them for me. I watch him.
His eyes as he thinks, his lip's as he tries to form words, his hand's (gods his hands) the way his fingers lingered on my shoulder and the way He breathed slower.
He helped me out of the car as i tip toed up the stairs to his apartment so I wouldn't get my feet dirty which he picked up on so he grabbed my by the waist and i shrieked again as he carried me up the stairs in a second.
"Jesus Leclerc you got to stop doing that! How do you have this much strength anyways?" He set's me down on the cold apartment floor after he opened the door for me and I walk into his Bathroom washing my face off and breathing through.
I take off the necklace and my rings leaving them on the small plate where all of his Rings we're placed.
Charles was sitting on his bed scrolling on his phone as I got into the room looking through his closet to get my favourite shirt.
"Can you help me with the dress please?" I ask and he got up unzipping it for me.
"Thank you" I mutter covering my chest as I pulled his T-shirt over my head and turning around to face him.
"Are you tired?" He asked and I nod with a smile.
"Yes very" I look at the clock at his desk which said 05:00 AM.
"Are you still drunk?" He asks and I shake my head.
"Are you alright?" I ask and he smiles.
"I don't think I've ever been happier." He tells me and I smile.
"I don't understand us" He tells me again.
"I know. I don't either. Not since we started to... I don't know become friends." I nod and throw my head back in despair.
"But let's not tonight, let's just be happy tonight and fight about it tomorrow?" He asks and I nod.
"I'm gonna go wash up you can go to sleep already?" He breaks us back into life and I push myself over to the bed falling down.
I don't know if I fell asleep or not but I felt him beside me after some time. I didn't want to open my eyes when I felt his finger's push my hair behind my ear, I didn't want to open them when he pulled me closer by the waist and I didn't want to open them when his lip's touched my forehead whispering a good night.
We didn't talk for a month after that. I went back to studying and he went back to racing, I got out of my mothers way when ever she tried to get me to something he was attending, we had both come to a realization that we did like each other, that we didn't hate each other and I noticed how people had started to ease around me when they knew Charles as if he had stopped Saying all those things about me so Initially I stopped as well, Just skipping over him when he came up in a conversation trying to get myself away from thinking about him.
"Come on we're going out" it was about 11 P.M. and I was sitting in the Library going over some material trying to memorize several text's.
"Hm?" It was a friend of mine Ashley who already took my coat and helped me up.
"You've been stuck here for five hours we're gonna go change and then go drink.
"I really have to finish this" I tell her but she already pulled me away.
We went to a shady club somewhere at the end of Monaco and she made me take about ten shot's one after the other before taking me to play bear pong.
"Y/n I'm off with- what's your name? Julio you have fun!" it was about two when Ashley left, I kept on drinking feeling myself in the moment and dancing with random guys I found at the bar.
It was four when i ended up outside walking along the street trying to think of somebody to call.
"Pick up" I pled Having Charles number pulled up while The phone started to ring.
"Oui? c'est quoi ce bordel? qui est-ce?" Charles picked up his deep voice made me blush immediately.
"Hey where are you?" I ask and I hear him shuffling.
"What? Y/n its 4 A.M? I'm at my apartment? where are you?" I heard him shuffle some more and yawn.
"So your in Monaco?" I ask and I hear him frown.
"Yes? Its summer break? Are you drunk? Where are you?"
"Not drunk! Just a bit tipsy" I balance myself on the pavement falling down.
"are you alright? where are you?"
"Fuck, I'm I don't know where" I look around.
"Are you alright? what happened?" I heard him stand up and go through his closet.
"Just fell down. Uhm I'm sorry I just wanted to.. I don't know we just haven't talked and My mother has been pushing but I just didn't want to see you" I explain and I hear his house door close.
"Send me your location I'll be there in a second" He orders and I sigh Trying to do as he says.
"Y/n can you hear me? your location?" Charles asked again after a while and I swallow a sob. I send him my location looking at his message which was sent a fucking month ago.
"Yeah, yeah, You don't have to come I'm alright I'm just sorry... I kind of messed us up" I tell him and hear him scoff.
"We're fine, your fine, I'm fine, I'll be there in a second just wait" I nod and hear how he gets in his car. I get up and start walking again.
"Y/n?" He asks and I wipe away my tears.
"Just breath alright?" He asks and I Breath through nodding.
"I'm sorry" I whisper and hang up looking around while i wait for him.
Gosh how I love his car. The black Pista pulled up on me and He got out putting his coat around me in a second.
"Jesus you look fucked-"
"Fuck you" I scoff as I wipe away my tears again trying not to cry as I lean into him.
"Hey, hey come on your fine" He pulled me into a hug and I nod against his chest and he Helps me into the car opening the door for me.
"Come on you wanna go to your apartment?" I shake my head.
"I wanna go to yours?" I ask and he smiles.
"As you wish Chérie"
We drove in silence and I took my High heels off.
"Thank you for getting me" I whisper after a while.
"Always" He smiled and I lean my head against the window watching him drive.
"I think you we're right" I tell him and he raises his eyebrow.
"I do like Ferrari the most.... at least if your driving" I add and Charles smiles.
"Thank you I believe myself to be a quiet good Driver" I stare at his hand's.
"can I hold your hand?" I ask and he frowns but holding me his hand anyways.
"Why? Don't bite me please" I laugh leaning into his direction as he let's me hold his hand, i don't hold it but rather examine it letting my fingers run over them, they we're solid and his skin was hard in some places.
"What are you doing?" He asks after a beat of silence.
"I don't know, trying to figure out why I'm attracted to somebody's hand's" I state and when i look at him I see how flushed his face has gotten.
"Alright stay for a second" he stopped the car and I look outside seeing that we have arrived. He opened the door for me and helped me out taking my high heels and I go up the stairs faster than he so he doesn't attempt to carry me up again.
"Let me" He opened the house door for me and I walk into his apartment falling onto the couch.
"Don't do that, go to the bathroom and wash up yeah?" He tapped my leg and i rolled off the couch doing as he told me.
I washed my legs in the shower for a second and cleaned my face off before finding myself to his bedroom where he got me a hangover drink and some water.
"Do you just have those laying around?" I point to the hangover drink which he hand's me.
"I do actually yes" I drink the shot of whatever the fuck is in those things and Cringe handing the empty bottle back to Charles who was smiling at me.
"Thank you" i mutter and see that he already laid out the shirt I liked.
"Can you help me with the dress?" I ask and he does unzipping it for me.
"Thank you" I mutter again and cover my chest as I slip into his shirt.
"Are you alright?" He asks as I sit down on the bed.
"No... I'm so fucking Tired" I laugh and he hands me the water bottle.
"Me too" he informs me and I press my lips together.
"I shouldn't have called you" I tell him and he scoff's taking my hand and pulling me into him so I flop down on his chest in exhaustion.
"I'd rather have you call me than anybody else" he tells me as I curl up into his side, he holds my waist and I feel how his breath steadies.
"Thank you Charles"
"I love it when you say my name" He tells me and I Smile turning around so I'm facing him, I lift my finger and push his hair out of his face so I can touch him.
"I think we're kind of unhealthy" I tell him and he laughs hugging me a bit more giving me enough room so I can bury my face into his neck and breath in his scent.
-K<3
171 notes · View notes
monstersandmaw · 9 months
Note
So I've just read the entirety of Gabe and Odessa's story for the first time today.
Ghosti. It's so good wtf. I don't have the words to tell you how much I adore those two idiots in love and all the sweetness and fluff that surrounds them.
I am astonished. Positively befuddled. Absolutely and undoubtedly stunned by how beautifully written everything is.
Thank you so much for sharing all that hard work with us.
Thank you???? SO MUCH???? FOR THIS??????? :D :D
Here's a WIP of Gabe's POV from the 'between seasons interlude' thing I worked on, as a thank you, and hopefully a treat?
Contents: shifting, pining, mention of mating/true mates, estranged family, and fluff Wordcount: 2957
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The shift was already prickling along his skin the moment her little red VW was out of sight through the trees.
Thunder sensed it first, going tense before herding Axel gently away from the metal fence and chuffing at Mia to follow. For once, they both obeyed without question, and Gabe’s awareness of them faded.
A series of tiny tremors skittered through his muscles and he snarled as a frisson of pain shot up his spine. He needed to get out of sight of the main road and into the woods, but each step he took away from the direction she’d gone felt like he was being torn apart. His wolf was screaming at him to chase after her, throwing itself against the walls of his mind in desperation to make right whatever he’d done wrong, and no amount of human reasoning that she had just been there on holiday would placate it. Wolves didn’t understand time the way humans did and he found no way to convince his wolf that this wasn’t goodbye forever; that he’d see her again in no time.  
Her.
Odessa.
His mate.
That did make him pause, with one foot through the front door, the other still out on the veranda.
He’d mated her.
After leaving the city at just shy of nineteen, he’d spent the intervening fourteen years never expecting to mate anyone, and in less time than a single cycle of the moon after meeting her, he’d mated her.
“Fuck.”
Gabe’s eyes rolled closed and he clutched the doorframe as real, genuine pain lanced through his chest at the growing physical distance between them, and he let out a muted grunt through clenched teeth. He was bound to her for life, and he’d chickened out of telling her what he’d done. “You moon-damned idiot,” he snarled at himself, kicking his legs back into action and slamming the front door shut behind him so hard it made the OS map on the wall to his right vibrate. “You bloody well should have told her.”
He’d told himself that he was holding off telling her because he hadn’t wanted her to feel obliged to stay with him in any way, and while that was the case, he knew he had also just been a coward about it. He might have been certain of his feelings for her, but he had a wolf’s instinct to rely on. She was human, and she deserved the time to make up her own mind about him.
Silently, as he levered off his boots and crossed the living room that still smelled of pancakes and strawberries and of Odessa, he vowed to tell her the next time he saw her face to face. Mating wasn’t like a human marriage ceremony, where it was fundamentally just words, no matter how earnestly they were spoken. This was something that went down to his bones, that bound him to her forever, and he’d chosen it after only two weeks of knowing her. She was his One though. He’d known it the moment he’d looked at her in the Centre and her wide, dark eyes had skated down his body in a way he’d almost been able to feel like a physical touch. There would never be another for him now, no matter what.
The wolf paced and snarled about in his head and in his heart, and he knew there was no way to silence it now. With the moon this close and his mate drawing further and further away, he was facing a shift whether he wanted to or not.
He just about managed to get his clothes off before the cramping began in his shoulders and back, and he pitched forwards onto his hands and knees to let the shift sweep over him in the middle of his living room. God, the last time he’d done this, abandoned himself to the shift, he’d mated her. Just the memory of sinking his knot into her wet heat was enough to make him howl and forget the pain of the transformation.
When it was over, he was out the back door and halfway through the wolf-dog enclosure before he had even realised it. Thunder kept the others back, physically penning them into the den, and Gabe lifted his lip to warn him to stay put. Thunder dropped his head and licked his lips in submissive understanding, and let him go without asking to come along.
Mud beneath his paws, claws digging into the soft, cold earth. Damp air filling his nose. Pine needles. Deer scent.
South.
Run.
Find her.
Find her.
Find her.
He drew up short at the edge of an open meadow and stood stock still apart from his heaving chest.
A fly buzzed past his ear and he twitched it in irritation.
This was too close to being feral. Spooked by that realisation, he shook himself and forced himself to take a step back, to think.
I am not an animal. I am a wolf, but I am a man.
Mate.
Find her.
Again, he shook his head, snapping and snarling.
Think.
His mind was like the mud of the forest behind him — cloying and slow.
He skirted the forest at a steady lope, still on all fours since it was easier to run like that despite his slightly longer hind legs, and as he turned instinctively south west, he realised where he was going. The road cut through a rocky pass that was blanketed in thick trees, and if he was careful about it, he might be able to get there before Odessa’s little red car did. He could watch her.
He knew it was stupid and reckless and dangerous, but the wolf leapt at the thought of catching up to their mate, as though it had become a game of long-distance tag.
They did make it to the promontory before her, and when that red VW trundled into view, he lifted his nose to the sky and howled in triumph. The car didn’t stop though. It didn’t slow, and the sound died in his throat. She didn’t know he was there. She couldn’t sense him the way he could feel her, like a tug on his soul.
The wolf lay down on the rock with his muzzle on his paws and watched the car vanish for a second time. The day drifted by, and he didn’t stir for hours. He felt the moon rising though — another tug in his chest like the pull of his mate, only even more primal — and he threw back his head again and sang his heartache out to her like a child crying to his mother. The moon had always been there for him, in a way his own mother never had been. Ruth Kirkbride was a hard woman, all sharp angles and cutting words, even when her boys had been young children, but the moon was soft curves and gentle guidance, and he lost himself to the wolf that night for the first time in years.
When he woke up, it was to the sound of a car engine and running water, and he panicked. Looking around, he found a small, human building made from cut trees. A cabin.
Shit, he thought, realising exactly what he’d done. His wolf had brought him to the place where his mate’s scent was strongest and he’d lain like an oversized hound outside the door, waiting for her to come back.
And now someone was here to tend to the cabin and ready it for the next visitors. He growled. They were going to destroy her scent with chemicals that burned his nose, and —
Hide!
The wolf took him into the trees in a swirl of dark fur and he lay low in the bracken, just as he had that first night when he’d glimpsed Odessa through the pines in the dark. Except the person who drove up to the cabin and got out of the 4x4 was not Odessa. It was Tala. He backed away and skirted many miles around to avoid her, following the soft calling of Thunder’s warm baritone, checking in. He lifted his muzzle while he paused to lap at another fast-flowing stream and, with his chops still running with icy water, he told them he was coming back.
Slinking back into his house like a thief, Gabe felt ashamed of himself. He forced the shift to ripple through him the moment he was indoors and he hobbled upstairs to run himself a bath. Odessa’s scent filled the bedroom and he considered climbing into bed and losing himself in it for a while, but he knew he should wash the mud off his hands and feet and make himself feel human again. The wolf was angry and brooding, unsettled by the absence of his mate from the den, and confused about why they weren’t going after her.
Gabe phoned in sick after his bath and curled up under the sheets, burying his nose in Odessa’s pillow before exhaustion claimed him and he slept the rest of the day away. It was only the yipping rebukes of Mia that brought him to consciousness again, and after nuzzling once more at Odessa’s pillow and filling his lungs with the scent of her, he got up, dressed, and went to take proper care of his dogs.
Life resumed its pattern after that, though it was hard to keep his focus. It got better when he acquired a smartphone and had an engineer come out to install internet at his cabin. Odessa’s answering selfie had taken him off guard, and when he hit video-call it had gone a long way to quieting his pacing wolf once more. She looked happy and safe. Jake had not resurfaced. She’d been out with her friends, who were apparently dying to meet him and had teased her endlessly about falling in love like it was a Hallmark movie. 
She was also looking at job options, but she seemed a little cagey about the details, so he left that subject alone for the time being and made a note to ask Carys if she knew of anything that might appeal to Odessa in the area. The park service must need some kind of legal team, though he was embarrassed to admit to himself that he had no idea what that might involve. He knew the woods and how they worked, but much beyond that was a foggy mystery to him. Until Odessa, he’d never had any reason to think much about it.
A week after Odessa had returned to the city, he opened his piece of shit laptop and began an email to his brother. It took eleven drafts and three complete re-writes to get something he was confident about, and before he lost his nerve completely, he hit send at 2:03am. 
Raph,
It’s been a while, I know. Somehow it’s almost Christmas and the last email you had from me was back in the spring. I hope you’re doing ok. I think about you a lot.
Something’s happened in my life lately that’s made me rethink a lot of stuff, and I know I’ve not been the brother I maybe used to be, and certainly not the brother you deserved, and I truly am sorry for that. We were out of touch for so long, and when we started to email again all those years later, it was all so distant and cold. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I never expected to find someone out here that I wanted to share my life with, but it’s happened all the same. I met someone while she was visiting, and she’s my One, Raph. I know it. We’re mated. She lives in the city though, and for the time being, we have to do distance. It’s been rough, but I’m handling it better than I thought I would. We talk every day, which helps.
I know I don’t have any right to ask you for favours, but I have one to ask of you anyway. I’d like to visit my mate for a weekend, but you know as well as I do that I’ll have to speak to mother first. Would you advocate for me if it becomes necessary? I don’t want to interfere with the pack — I don’t intend to see anyone or involve myself with pack business while I’m visiting at all, though if you wanted to meet somewhere neutral, I’d love that.
Let me know your answer when you can.
Gabe
 Less than a day later, Raph had replied.
Gabe,
I could hardly believe my eyes when I read your last email. It’s always good to hear from you again, though I was surprised to hear that you’re mated! She must be one hell of a woman. Can’t promise she’ll let you stay, but if you need someone in your corner, Gabe, you have me. When are you planning to come? Let me know and I’ll set something formal up for you with mother. She won’t like it, but she’ll at least have to give you an audience.
Raph
Relief flooded through him so violently that his vision swam and he sat back against the soft sofa cushions, dizzy. The fans on his brick of a laptop whirred and for a moment he wondered if the sound was in his own skull it was so loud. His heart thudded and the early morning light felt far too bright against his eyes. Outside, snow had piled up on the gravel and on the roof of his house, insulating it like a proper den in the winter, and the wolf-dogs were loving the snowfall. He could hear Mia already haring around the enclosure, snapping at snowflakes and careering to a sliding halt, face first, ass in the air as she troughed through the snow like a pig in mud. Even Axel was enjoying himself.
Did Odessa like the snow? The realisation that he had no idea suddenly pained him, and he shook himself. That discovery could wait. Hitting her contact info in his recent calls list, he was three rings in when he realised it was six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday, but it was too late now. She answered blearily, the phone camera struggling in the dark room, and his heart clenched at the sight of her looking so sweetly dishevelled and sleepy.
“Morning,” he grinned apologetically.
“What?” she frowned, squinting in the light of her phone as she fumbled for the light beside her. “What is it?”
“I’ve been emailing my brother,” he said. That got her attention, and he smiled as she came more sharply awake.
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Raph said he’ll advocate for me. I’d… I’d like to come and see you…” he said, trying to ignore the fact that his sudden burst of courage and elation was sputtering out like a guttering candle flame. “If that’s still alright?” If she was having second thoughts about having him there, it would crush him, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it off his face.
“Alright?” she practically shrieked at him, grinning so that her cheeks bunched up in a way that made him want to hold them in his hands.
She scrabbled around like an upturned spider, flailing with one hand get the duvet out of the way, and revealed her adorable cupcake pyjamas in the process. The neckline sank down to reveal her bare collarbones and Gabe ached all over to run his teeth over them and suck bruises into her delicate skin and cover her with the scent of him so that she would know he was hers. Instead, she caught him looking and he smiled bashfully.
“Of course it’s alright! Yes! When? I was going to suggest making a trip to see you soon, but that works too, if you’re sure about it?”
“I’m sure,” he said, trying not to sound too intense. “How does next weekend sound?”
A look of wide-eyed joy spread across her face. “Yes! Oh my god, perfect!” she actually made some kind of inhuman screeching noise that got a bit garbled over her phone’s microphone, but he didn’t overly mind. He was fairly certain Thunder and the others would have been able to hear it. “Why are you awake now anyway?” she asked. “You do know what a weekend is, right?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I’m sorry. I’ve just picked up Raph’s message. He’s an early morning person too, so…”
“Oh my god, you’ve only just this second heard back from him?” she asked. He wondered fleetingly how she could have been a good lawyer when she wore all her emotions so plainly on her face, but perhaps she was different when she was at work. The thought of seeing her dressing down some scumbag in a courtroom made him unexpectedly hot under the collar, and he nearly missed her next question, which followed on the heels of the first without waiting for an answer. “…long will you be staying?”
He scrubbed at his beard and thought idly that he needed to trim it, and shrugged. “I’d set off early from here on Saturday morning to be with you by about nine or ten, and then, if she lets me stay, I’d go back on Sunday night or Monday morning. Does that work?”
“Of course,” she said, and he could practically feel the excitement rolling off her. God, he wished he could smell it too — practically taste the way her body was reacting — but he would have to make do with just being able to see her. His mate. God, she looked so happy. That was miracle enough for him, he supposed.
__
Hopefully one day there'll be Season Two of Gabe and Odessa - I've written bits and bobs and snippets of it, and I know the rough outline. It just takes a lot of time and effort...
If you enjoyed this, which I hope you did, please consider reblogging it, as well as the original Season One story.
Take care of yourselves, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.
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Keith and Lance love pranking Pidge.
Okay, so I mentioned in a previous headcanon that Pidge wanted to prove Klance was canon, right?
Now, Keith and Lance are some pretty silly and devious boys, as we know, so they come up with the brilliant idea to gaslight Pidge into thinking they made the whole thing up. They're discussing their plan in Lance's room, when Keith snaps his fingers and says, "I got it! We should get the other's in on it too! That way it's uh..." And he pauses to count the number of Paladins on his fingers, "Four times more likely!"
And that's exactly what they do, they get everyone else in on it, even the mice.
So one day, Pidge walks into the lounge and everyone is there, and they start trying to talk about how their "experiment" went in regards to Keith and Lance dating, and everyone just gives them a confused look, like "What are you going on about?"
Keith and Lance look at each other and go
L: "Seriously, Pidge, I'd think I'd know if Mullet and I were dating, nothing is going on, what are you talking about?"
K: "Yeah, besides, when have you ever seen us actually getting along?"
And Pidge is baffled, they're so confused as to why the two are denying it.
this is how the rest of the conversation went:
P: "You guys literally kissed... Right in front of me."
H: "I dunno, Pidge, don't you think we'd all know by now? I mean, those two are pretty bad at hiding things."
S: "I agree, I've known Keith for a while, he's like family. If they were dating, he would have told me."
K: "Exactly."
P: "But-"
A: "Yes, and Lance tells me everything about what you on Earth call Gossip every time he invites me to do those fun face masks."
C: "I would've found some trace by now, I'm sure."
P: "Guys I swear! I saw it happen!"
L: "Look, Pidge, buddy, we know you want me and Keith to be a thing, but we just aren't, you we're clearly imagining things."
C: "Quite so. Have you considered that it may have been a dream?"
P: "I... I'm gonna go take a nap..."
Once Pidge has left the room, Keith and Lance burst out into laughter and fall into each other's arms, giggling until their eyes are teary.
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sonekwi · 1 month
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☆ ⸻ the white paladin, keith x reader
chapter six: so sorry, pidge!
characters/pairings: keith kogane, female reader
genre: fanfiction
summary: keith invites you to spar with him, and poor pidge walks in on something rather questionable.
word count: 1,596
links: previous, next, wattpad, masterlist
a/n: i'm so sorry for being gone for a month! i wrote a shorter chapter this time to stand in as a filler, next one will be the usual 3,000+ words. thanks for reading though, i hope you enjoy!
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A week has gone by and you find yourself missing Earth more with each passing day. The team managed to form Voltron again and you've been training with them as much as you can, but no matter how busy you try to keep yourself, your mind always finds its way back to Earth. When it does, homesickness grabs you and doesn't let go.
You and Lance often find each other at the end of the day and sit in each other's company. Even if your brother is in a good mood and smiling when he's around the team, you know that facade disappears when everyone's gone. You both miss your family more than anything, but having each other makes it a little bit better.
You spend your time in the White Lion's hangar whenever you're not training or sleeping. You'll sit on the floor, leaning against its massive, metal paws, simply talking about whatever is on your mind. You haven't gotten around to asking Coran about the mysterious Lion yet, still wondering why King Alfor would hide it away. When you ask the White Lion directly, the answers feel cryptic and unclear, as if it doesn't know itself.
Footsteps echo along the tall walls of the hangar and you look up from the small gadget in your hands. Pidge had asked your help with it, knowing that you had taken a couple of engineering and computer science classes at the Garrison. So far, you haven't been able to get anywhere with it.
Keith walks over to you, his bayard in his hand and dressed in clothes fit for exercising. You look him up and down, your heart beating anxiously in your chest. It takes everything in your power to keep a calm exterior. You don't know what you would do if he found out about your little crush on him.
"I'm heading to the training deck," he announces, "Do you want to join? I could use a sparring partner."
You can't help yourself from suddenly fantasizing about the various scenarios that could happen, nearly all of them involving a sweaty, panting Keith who takes off his shirt. You quickly feel a flustered heat rising to your neck and face, and honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself. He is your friend, and will probably only ever be your friend.
As you stand, you shove the thoughts and rising embarrassment away, excitedly accepting Keith's offer, "Sure! I'll go get my bayard."
After being scolded by Allura for the umpteenth time for not keeping it nearby, you only had to walk across the hangar to retrieve it. Once the cool metal of the handle is within your grasp, the weapon materializes into its scythe form. You test the weight of it in your hand as you turn back to Keith.
     "Alright, let's go!" you smile.
     As you and Keith make your way to the training deck, you try your best not to stare at him. It's a short walk, thankfully, and you don't have to fight yourself for very long.
     "What are you thinking? Weapons, no weapons?" you ask as you step further into the room. It's wide and open, and you've gotten familiar with the space after spending most of your time here. You can almost hear Allura's voice still echoing off the walls.
     "We can start with no weapons," Keith says and sets his bayard down on the floor. He takes off his jacket as well, your eyes not-so-discreetly watching him. When he looks at you, you shamefully avert your gaze.
     Focus, (y/n)! He's your friend! You scold yourself, rubbing the back of your neck with embarrassment. You can practically feel the heat rising off of it.
     Keith places himself in the center of the room and stretches as he waits for you. You set your bayard near his and roll your shoulders. When you start before Keith, you bring your fists up and ask, "Do you want to count down–"
     Keith moves fast and you barely manage to block the attack. Your arm throb at the impact, and you glare at him. "Oh, it's so on."
     Your friend only chuckles, and the two of you quickly settle into your sparring match. You don't hold back, making Keith work for his victory if he wants it.
     Memories of the Garrison pop up in your mind. You and Keith would often train together after class. Sometimes well into the night before a faculty member would kick you out of the gym, chewing you out for being out past curfew.
     Even back then, you were fighting your feelings for him. You tried to convince yourself you only admired and adored him so much because he was your friend. It worked, for a short while, until he dropped from the Garrison. At that point, your anger overpowered your hopeless crush.
     Your reminiscing distracts you, and Keith knocks you on your feet and pins you down. He sits on top of you, holding your hands above your head, his legs straddling your hips to keep you from rolling. As you stare at him with wide eyes, the panting, sweaty sight of him makes your cheeks burn.
     He stares back at you as his grip on your wrists tightens. "Do you yield?" he asks, a proud grin spreading on his face.
     It was a simple question he would always ask when he had you pinned, restrained, or disarmed, even if he knew you wouldn't. But the tone of his voice was different this time...
     His eyes flick down for a second before returning to yours. Your flustered thoughts race faster, knowing exactly what he glanced at. You panic, and your heart feels like it's going to burst out of your chest.
     "Hey, guys? Shiro wants us–"
     You and Keith look toward the door.
     Pidge stands there, silently wishing to crawl into a hole as he tries to figure out what he just walked in on. But then he promptly turns to leave, "You know what? I don't even want to know. Just change and meet us on the bridge."
     Immediately, you push Keith off and scramble to your feet. You run your hands over your face and stride over to your bayard. "He is never going to let us live that down," you say.
     "I don't know, he looked like he probably never wants to bring it up. Ever," Keith says.
     "Wanna bet?" you ask.
     "Knowing you, you'd try to make the odds in your favor," Keith shakes his head, feigning disappointment. But you catch the small tug on the corners of his lips.
     "You're right," you chuckle. "I so would."
⁀➷
Standing on the bridge, you look around at the glass panels lining every inch of the room. The sky is a beautiful baby blue with soft and fluffy clouds drifting past, and your mind wanders to Earth as you watch.
Shiro's words unfortunately go through one ear and out the other, and it doesn't go unnoticed. But even after he promptly scolds you, you still don't pay attention. That familiar weight in your chest sinks in, and you stare down at your feet with dejection.
Homesickness is a bitch.
A hand brushes against yours, the contact bringing you back to reality. Beside you, Keith keeps his attention on Shiro as one of his fingers hooks yours. You smile softly, remembering your friend's words from a few days ago.
He kept true on his promise.
The next few hours are spent doing team bonding exercises again with Allura, Coran, or Shiro failing to direct the ragtag group of teenagers. You give them the benefit of the doubt, though, because you yourself have no idea what you are doing. The White Lion had finally started acting as if something were wrong, and you struggled to keep your control over it.
But as lunch rolls around, the White Lion is more than happy to listen to you for once as you bring it back to its hangar. You are more than happy, too. You can feel a headache coming on while you listen to Lance and Keith bicker over the comms. The former had tried kicking a ruined Galra ship like a soccer ball, ultimately knocking Voltron on its ass from the lack of balance.
Part of you is grateful you were crucial to forming Voltron. You would probably go insane.
You're already sitting in the dining room waiting for Coran's "nutritious Paladin meal" when the others enter. Lance and Keith are still arguing, and you groan as you rub your temple, hoping to dull the sharp throbbing.
"Alright, save your energy for fighting Zarkon!" Shiro barks and the two boys effectively shut up. However, as they sit down, they resort to silently glaring at each other.
With Lance sitting beside you, you kick his shin and grumble, "Stop acting like a child."
"I'm not! Keith started it!" your brother argues.
Keith rolls his eyes. "Whatever you say."
Lance irks at the comment, but you manage to slap a hand over his mouth before he says anything back. He glares at you, and you cuss as he drags his tongue over your palm.
"You are so gross!" you hiss, wiping your spit-covered hand on your brother's armor.
"Hey!" he barks.
"It's your spit!"
Shiro snaps. "What did I just say!?"
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linkemon · 2 months
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It's gonna be alright (Keith Kogane x Reader)
Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.
Other oneshots can be found here.
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ᴋᴇɪᴛʜ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴘᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱʜɪʀᴏ'ꜱ ᴅɪꜱᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ. ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪᴇꜱ ʜᴇʟᴘ. ᴏʀ ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ꜱᴀʏꜱ…
ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ:
ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇᴀʀʟʏ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴꜱ.
ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅʟʏ ʀᴇᴍɪɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ. ɪ ᴛʀʏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴘꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ.
It was the final stretch.
I snuck out again. Doing it in the evening would mean that someone would probably catch me but at night it's much easier. If the rest of the team saw me now, I'd probably get scolded but I couldn't help myself. Hunk finally baked some edible cookies!
I grabbed a plate from the nearest shelf and helped myself to a generous amount, then rearranged the cookies that had fallen out of formation back into a pyramid. This way, no one noticed when one or two floors disappeared.
As a medical student, or rather a former student, because on Earth I've probably already been kicked out of school, I always tell my team to eat healthily. I am quite aware of the effects of overeating at night and too many sweets but everyone has smaller or larger deviations. Mine gradually started to increase after Hunk got a new recipe for blueberry cookies.
When we tasted them for the first time, I was skeptical because of their blue color. We chose Coran as the tester because no one else wanted to poison themselves. However, it turned out that we had avoided failure. They tasted like cocoa.
Since then, Hunk has been baking them almost all the time and I've been stealing them on the sly. It quickly turned out that paladins had a habit of getting up often in the middle of the night. At first I ate in the living room and almost got caught when Pidge walked by. However, I managed to find a solution. My place for a snack was the rather narrow roof, which was accessed through a window on the top floor of the castle. Perhaps someone would be able to spot me during the day but at night it was virtually impossible.
I headed there too, thinking only that in a moment I would inhale that cocoa scent again. I crossed the hall, opened the window, and then placed the plate on the tiny windowsill. I had both legs out and was just about to start eating when it turned out I wasn't alone.
Keith was now sitting in my usual seat with wide eyes. He looked ready to jump but visibly relaxed when he saw it was just me.
Well, great.
So I did the only right thing that could be done in such a situation.
— Cookie?
— Excuse me? — He asked.
— I asked if you wanted a cookie. — I sat down and offered him a plate. — Just don't betray to others because I won't have a life.
He ate it, then reached for another one.
We never got along very well, partly because we didn't know each other before I joined the team. It's true that I didn't argue with him like Lance but he had such a heavy personality that I preferred spending time with Hunk or Allura. He always seemed quite cold to me but I admired his skills and courage because he certainly had plenty of that.
The silence was quite uncomfortable, so I decided to break it.
— Nice sky.
No response from Mr. Silent.
It was beautiful. A shade of navy blue completely different than the one on Earth. Constellations unlike any I've seen. Everything was different here. The thought always brought a momentary feeling of nostalgia and longing for my family but I was used to it by now. It hasn't wanted to leave me since I got here.
— Sooo... you came to think? — I said with my mouth full.
— You could say that — he muttered.
What an elaborate statement.
— I came to eat without anyone noticing. I glanced at him. — But it didn't work out as you can see. — What are you thinking about?
I didn't receive any response.
Keith started to stand up but I grabbed his sleeve.
— It's a bit inelegant of you to leave me in the middle of a conversation now.
If this could even be called a conversation...
— Something will attack me here at night when it smells food if I stay alone. — I stuffed the cookie into myself with my free hand. — If you want, we can sit in silence — I added.
I saw his hesitation but he finally sat back down after the last sentence.
I wanted to keep my word, I really wanted to. The problem, however, was the talkativeness. Everyone around me knew perfectly well that I was loud and ubiquitous. I also had trouble keeping my mouth shut. Keith and I were basically opposites, which was one of the reasons we had limited contact.
In short, I could be irritating. No wonder I couldn't last more than a few minutes.
— If you don't want to say what you're thinking, don't say it — I started. — But if you change your mind, you know  — I stabbed him in the arm — you can vent.
— Do I look like someone who wants to talk?
No, you look like an irritated bastard.
— No but you look like someone who needs it. You know, as a pseudo-doctor on this team, I also have to take care of your mental health. I think it's just as important as physical one.
His expression softened slightly. He was clearly wondering whether he should share with me what was on his mind.
The silence grew.
This is how my career as a psychologist dies prematurely.
I actually could have given up but I felt like I wanted to help. Kind of like when I was quite little and put plasters on literally all the kids in my neighbourhood who had bad knees. This feeling turned into a passion — the desire to professionally care for others. I didn't have the opportunity to graduate because I was in the middle of another galaxy but I did my best. I tried to use everything I had at hand to help those who were saving planets and races that we had never known about before.
— It's about my leadership — he began, so quietly that I could barely hear him. — I feel bad about it. Everyone is counting on me, they want me to give them orders but I have the impression that whatever I do, wherever I step, will be wrong. I'm not even sure how to get along with you. After I came back to the team, everyone looks at me differently. I'm not like Shiro. My only hope is to find him and bring him back but I don't even know where to start looking for him.
I'm out of cookies.
— It's obvious — I felt his eyes on me — that you're not Shiro. I'm sure we'll find him but it will take some time. You shouldn't try to replace him because each of you is different — I started. — It'll take you a while to get used to your new role but you're on the right track. Maybe try spending some time with the team? We haven't known each other for very long but I'm not blind. Some people really miss you, Keith. Don't run away from them, try to talk to them, eat some cookies and everything will be fine. — I stood up, took my plate and headed to the window.
It's gonna be alright — the cliché I may have tried to say to myself a lot too but what choice did I have? What else could I tell him?
— [Reader]?
— Hmmm? — I stuck my head out.
— Thank you.
— No problem but it was Hunk who baked them — I said, smiling to myself and then started walking down the dark corridor.
Keith will make a good leader but I might still make a good doctor when I get back to Earth. I should just cut down on the cookies...
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f0point5 · 10 months
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Esteban seeing yn as a nepo baby but being besties with mick is a bit hypocritical don't you think?
I can see lance and her being friends because they're definitely faced similar things during their childhood i.e calling as nepo baby by others.
I also think lewis and her wouldn't get along and thats purely because of how fiercely she's defending max. Like I'm thinking their crashes and even if they were getting along, after that and her comments about them there would be a fallout.
I want mick and yn to make up in their own terms but i kinda agree with yn said. There's nepotism in f1 world and f1 isn't just talent. Connections are a big part of it and lance, mick even max and other drivers i cant remember right now HAS CONNECTIONS. But that doesnt also mean they're untalented but there was a huge advantage to them being son of something important or relatively known and we can't disregard this fact.
Mick is talented (along with lance but he's not the important character right now) and calling him surname merchant while isnt fair but its also right... His dad is mf michael schumacher... And also there's more expectations for him but even in real life i dont see anything much from him but then again he's young and haas definitely fucked him up.
It is definitely hypocritical, but I think her close connection to Max is probably the tipping point for him. Esteban is also very good friends with Lance. But I think there’s a bit of a one sided rivalry between Esteban and Max that Y/N falls foul of in Esteban’s head. Also, Esteban has watched Y/N go from being everywhere with Mick to being everywhere with Max and I think he has somewhat taken that personally on Mick’s behalf, thinks that Y/N swapped Mick for Max because of Max’s success. Which again is because of his own resentment of Max’s success. But I think Esteban sees her very much as “had it all handed to her” even more than any of the other drivers because she didn’t even have to drive for it, she just comments.
Her and Lance have known each other a long time, and she is friends with his sister, so they’re cool.
I think there’s nothing Mick could ever have done or achieved that wouldn’t have had him called a surname merchant. His dad was one of the greatest there ever was and that definitely largely worked to his disadvantage in F1. While Max got all the connections but 1% of the pressure because his dad was a nobody in F1, Mick had the weight of his last name on his shoulders the second he appeared on a go kart track. Max made Verstappen a brand, Mick came in already carrying a brand (those two are such good foils of each other). But the Schumacher name definitely had a part in getting him where he is, Guenther even said it in DTS, that German sponsors want to be in business with the Schumacher name. I don’t think he’d have had that Haas seat if it weren’t for his last name (he would have eventually got a seat somewhere else but Haas specifically picked him up for the sponsors imo).
I think in relation to Y/N specifically, he’s just hurt these comments are coming from someone he considers family. Someone who has supported him his whole career, who now seemingly turns around and thinks he’s rubbish. He’s like “you always told me I was going to be great, cheered me on, but now you’re just listing everything I do wrong to the world”. And I think he’s partly right. I think what Y/N said when she was trying to be Mick’s cheerleader was different to her real/professional opinion and she wasn’t fully honest and Mick wasn’t fully prepared to hear those things. Then on the other side Y/N is thinking “what I said isn’t nearly as harsh as what I’m thinking, I went out of my way to take it easy on him, and he’s still mad”, because she knows she has gone harder on Max and he’s just brushed it off. It’s very complicated. Also consider that a lot of those quotes would have been massively taken out of context.
Re her and Lewis, definitely were not in a good place in 2021 (we will see more of that eventually) but now I see him being a bit more like “okay she’s the Max Defence League let her do her”, and he doesn’t pay much attention to her, nor her to him.
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schumiatspa · 1 year
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Okay I'm gonna elaborate on my "Charlos as Romeo and Juliet" take, I just couldn't shut up, I'm sorry akansksj
Don't expect anything deep from this long rant because it's just going to be a bunch of personal opinions on f1 ships and friendships, family-like dynamics (i'm a sucker for the family found trope ngl) and such, all badly taped together lol
SO the grid is more or less divided into two sides: the Hamilton-Vettel side and the Alonso side (I'm considering the current only, plus Mick, Seb and Danny).
The Hamilton-Vettel family: grid dads Lewis and Seb are disgustingly in love and happily married and Charles is obviously their child™, alongside Mick and George (I don't see him as their kid as much as the other two, but he's not that far, so). Other people included in this family are definitely Alex (Georgie's boyfriend and Charles's friend), Pierre (Charles's bff and Lewis's friend) and Lance (Seb's former teammate and pseudo grid kid and one of Mick's bffs). I know that Lance being here and not on the other side of the barricade could disappoint some people because of the 'good relationship' he seems to have built with Fernando (I saw your Strollonso propaganda and porn), BUT c'mon!! He's Mick's friend! He was definitely indoctrinated by Seb! He said his idol growing up was Michael (which might have single-handedly got him adopted by Seb lmao)! No way he's leaning towards Nando.
The Alonso family (single dad power!) is basically him and his kids: Max (he has clearly chosen him as his successor in f1), Lando (he loves him and Max and Carlos love him too, so) and obviously Carlos (we know all Spanish athletes are probably in a sort of cult, spanish solidarity is very strong, they have known each other since Carlos was a child thanks to Sainz Senior blablabla).
That being said, we are all aware of the not-so-simple relationship between Seb and Fernando and Lewis and Fernando and their whole decade-long history. This obviously causes some big trouble when Charlos fall in love and begin dating. Seb and Lewis do approve of their son-in-law (there are a lot of pictures of them interacting and they seem to get along pretty well - an example is the Barcelona gp and the whole chili bucket hat drama lmao), if Fernando wasn't there Carlos could easily slip into their family and be pseudo adopted even without marrying into the family (Carlos as Sewis's kid could make sense) BUT Fernando. is. there. and Sewis don't really approve of him, and viceversa - i'd say that he likes Charles, so the problem is always the same: their respective son's in-laws (I'd add that Carlos Sainz Sr is the one who doesn't like Charles very much, he probably sees him as a threat). Moreover I think that things between Lewis and Max might still be sort of tense, same goes for Georgie and Max, and other similar conflicts, so Christmas dinners with the in-laws won't probably be very pleasant in general (the risk of them easily turning into crime scenes is very high - there are knifes around). SO all of this means that Charles and Carlos are a bit like Romeo and Juliet!! They come from two different families which are more or less in conflict with each other (and the conflict can only increase as the championship goes on, especially with Fernando currently doing well and Ferrari being utterly shit, because the gap is getting increasingly bigger) but their love managed to blossom in the middle ground. Obviously it's not that dramatic, the two sides don't hate each other that much: it's not hate per se, it's more... some dislike? Complicated feelings for sure! I know that some drivers are friends with the enemy family (es. The Twitch Quartet), but it's all for the sake of the narrative lol Anyway the vibes are there!! And they're immaculate!! I haven't imagined how a proper and more elaborate Romeo&Juliet AU could work (yet), but the foundation would be more or less this. Something that would be interesting to reflect on is how the dynamics would change if the championship results were different (es. Ferrari were competitive), between everybody and especially between our Romeo and Juliet, but I'm digressing now
Bonus: what about the rest of the grid? Val obviously prefers the Hamilton-Vettel side, Checo would be on Fernando's side (Spanish speaker solidariety and all that, but his 'allegiance' is not that strong, I suppose he doesn't care that much, he's like a distant uncle), Oscar is actually Mark Webber's kid (and!! that's a story for another day, because!! Mark... and... Seb... and Mark and Fernando!! We all know things happened. But let's not dwell on that rn, it would be too complicated) so he'd better stay out of the conflict and Logan, being useless his friend, would probably follow him, so. I imagine Kmag and Hulk would more or less stay neutral (they've got their personal sUcK mY bAlLs MaTe beef going on so lol) and so would Nyck? Tbh I didn't give them much thought because someone like Yuki is much more interesting in this setting, since he is Pierre's bf but Fernando has taken a liking to him and kinda made him one of his grid kids, so he is in a peculiar position. But let's be real, Yuki doesn't give many fucks, so he is probably going to waltz from on side of the paddock to the other without a care in the world. Estie is interesting too: while he is Mick's other bff, he also has a love-hate relationship with Fernando. I believe that he is on the other side, still I don't trust him and Nando together lmao. I'm actually not sure about Zhou, he would probably be quite neutral, but I know he admires Fernando a lot (I admit I'm fumbling a little bit in the dark here lol but it's okay, I hadn't actually thought about every single driver, some of them I'm making up as I type).
The real wild card is Danny Ric, because he has known Lewis and Seb for years (underrated trio!!) and obviously likes George and Pierre and more or less their whole family BUT. Alonso has Max on his side. And Lando. So Danny's probably like the friendly neighborhood dog: he loves everybody and he gets fed like four times a day because everybody loves him and he doesn't really pick a side.
The end.
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discordiansamba · 6 months
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spitballing some more ATLA AU facts:
Keith's grandfather deserted from the Fire Nation early on in the 100 year war and married an Earth Kingdom woman, so Keith's dad grew up in the Earth Kingdom and has only ever been to the Fire Nation once. He met Keith's mother there.
Keith voice: On all levels except physical, I am a dragon.
Hunk tries to resolve things without resorting to violence as much as possible, but sometimes he knows he doesn't have any other option.
This makes for a very funny dynamic when it's just him and Keith traveling together.
Hunk WILL baby talk to every animal he can, Keith's komodo-lion and Kosmo included. Did I mention he takes in a baby sabertooth moose-lion? Because he absolutely does. Animals also love Hunk. They DO want his scratchies.
Lance and Hunk hit it off right away when they finally meet. Keith feels strangely jealous, only he doesn't know what jealousy is because he's never experienced it before. Shiro literally has to point it out to him.
Keith and Lance still get along like oil and water... or in this case, like fire and water. Lance is against the idea of traveling with a firebender at first, but he relents because Hunk vouches for him. Allura comes from a time before the 100 year war so she's fine with this actually.
Keith becomes Hunk's firebending master, which is... an interesting experience because all of Keith's actual training comes from a man who had no formal firebending training either. At first this causes a bit of a struggle, since Keith's bending is all instinct, but it's ultimately for the best since in many ways, Keith's firebending is the closest to true firebending there is.
Hunk struggles to learn airbending, even though Shiro is a much better teacher. Thankfully Shiro is also a very patient teacher, willing to carefully take his time to make sure Hunk gets the best teachings possible.
(Unfortunately, they also don't have that kind of time.)
Allura is Hunk's waterbending teacher, and he has the easiest time with this element. Lance isn't technically his teacher, but he does teach Hunk some cool tricks, and having a study buddy actually helps him out a lot.
Hunk does not like going into the Avatar State very much.
Hunk does manage to reunite with his family in Ba Sing Se... only to quickly realize there's something awfully fishy about this city. They should definitely leave, like ASAP, but Allura and Keith want to stay and investigate.
Hunk: okay, but if this goes south, remember- I was the guy who wanted to leave.
Allura & Keith: Noted.
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xjulixred45x · 1 year
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The Paladins (+Lotor and Allura) x Komori!Reader.
reader: feminine
Genre: Headcannons
Warnings: nothing worrisome. fluff.
Shiro
And he knows you is like "PROTECT AT ALL COSTS"
chances are they saved you from some group of idiots with bad intentions. So Shiro is a good listener after that. you stay with them because well, there is not much choice.
Cleaning up the castle a bit, cooking with Hunk, making sure everyone is well fed and happy, you pretty much become a space mom.
And Shiro is the space father.
Try to help you reach things on the high shelves. Although he finds it cute, he himself will lower things from the high wings to avoid future accidents.
He is not very sweet but he will eat everything you cook.
Yui is about 1.58 and Shiro is more or less 1.80, HUGS WOULD BE FANTASTIC.
He is by far the most gentle of all. Understand that having that attitude all the time can be a great mental drain, so if you need a break or be the one to take care of for a while. Count on him.
Saying how he appreciates how you raise the morale of the group in your own way .
It's too cute, I can't-
Keith
It is the most difficult by far, but not impossible (especially with your attitude).
At first he saw you more as a victim, a poor soul in a way. I didn't expect you to be so...lively afterwards.
See how, despite everything, you continued to be happy, cheering everyone on-CHEERING HIM, taking care of him, worrying about everyone...
It made me see you more as a survivor than a victim.
It made him respect you for handling the situation like that. At the same time he began to show more interest, in a way.
Similar to Shiro, he shows his appreciation to you for acts of service. Not only helping with the heavy stuff, but also being the first to jump in front of you if there's an attack on the castle.
Again, he doesn't have a sweet tooth, but if you ask him to try something for dinner, he'll pretend to grudgingly if he does.
When they move into some sort of relationship, not much changes, except that it's more open and the protection kicks in.
If Keith gets mad at something or someone(coughcofLANCEcofcough) he will go straight to you to vent, this is especially true when he becomes the black lion pilot. You want to know if what you are saying is valid or if you are getting carried away.
You are by far the most trusted person on the ship (along with Shiro).
Lance
Lance is the one who falls the fastest, and falls HARD
Make it very clear to him when he wants something with you, but not in the same way as when he is casually flirting with someone. They are like a little more personal questions, you know if he can have something with you.
Lance misses life on earth a lot, it is a fact, that you want to take care of him, listen to his problems and assure him that he is not the "seventh wheel" of the group means A LOT to him.
Also since you don't invalidate his concerns and contrast them with real, positive facts about him, he doesn't have to be the clown of the group to be able to talk to you.
That's probably why he fell in love so quickly.
Chivalrous ASF, opening the doors, giving up the seat, helping with heavy things that he can barely carry, etc.
There's also a bit of insecurity about dating you, he's full of doubts about whether he's really enough for you, comparing himself to the other paladins in the party. Although you shut it up immediately because you know it's true.
Cuddly! Lots of hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Especially if you did something like cook for the WHOLE group or just walked a healthy line between helping everyone and helping yourself.
He definitely wants to introduce you to his family (especially if you don't have one of your own)! He assures you that they will receive you and love you just as much as they love you!
TOO CUTE I CAN'T-
Hunk
! kitchen companions!
Both can spend hours and hours exchanging recipes, telling cooking stories, experiences, etc. and never get bored.
They have something like a system to be able to make meals between the two of them so as not to overload the other with work. eg, you the desserts, the dinner, you the dinner, the desserts, miti miti, etc.
They taste each other's food 🥺
Hunk is also considered the most morale booster in a certain way, so under no circumstances will he let you feel bad or inferior to them just for not being a paladin! You help in many other ways!
Hunk is also considered the most morale booster in a certain way, so under no circumstances will he let you feel bad or inferior to them just for not being a paladin! You help in many other ways!
It's the best shoulder to cry on if things get too tense or if you just can't keep happy for once, that's okay.
similar to Lance, he wants to introduce you to his family, his parents more than anything, he knows that children naturally love you, but it is very IMPORTANT that their parents approve of you.
Needless to say, you have it around your finger ;).
Pidge(romantic/platonic)
She's used to being the one the group cares about most as the youngest, so your joining is a breath of fresh air.
Don't get her wrong, Paladins respect her, but not in the same way that YOU respect her. You still see her as a child, but you also recognize her brilliant mind and trust her to protect you.
You are very aware of her, whether it is for her to bathe, remember to eat, sleep long enough, etc. You remind him a lot of a mother hen.
She may seem upset about this at first, but it's really because you remind her of her own mother, which makes her nostalgic and somewhat sad.
But he quickly gets over it because he KNOWS you're doing it with their best interests in mind.
Love your food, really love it, especially if it tastes like peanuts.
If he gets in trouble with Lance or any of the Paladins, he goes and hides behind you, like a little kid with an evil grin.
Damn gremlin.
Allura
Girls' nights Girls' nights Girls' nights Girls' nights Girls' nights-
They become friends very quickly! She gets along very well with paladins, yes, but with you it's a whole new level.
I doubt Allura has ever been attracted to a woman, so when she starts to see you differently, she doesn't know what to do or whether to act "normal."
I'll probably even go to the other paladins for advice because lance and Koran don't help much.
I think she is the one who tries the most to hide this crush, more because she wants to give the image of a confident and determined leader, she wants to take the courage to say it.
And when she says it, she also gets nervous and somewhat clumsy. But adorable.
PROTECC will not hesitate to use brute force if you put yourself in danger.
Protective, even worse than Keith.
Afternoons of hair care with the space mice (seriously LOOK AT HER BEAUTIFUL HAIR).
Lotor
Let's be honest, you probably met him when he was held prisoner by the paladins and he had some degree of appreciation for you at first.
But then you started to worry about him (maybe because he reminded you of yourself when you were saved by the paladins) and you couldn't leave it like that.
So, for the sake of his mental health and your peace of mind, you made sure he was…comfortable in a way.
The Paladins+ Allura OBVIOUSLY didn't want you to do them, but there was little they could do to stop you.
You brought him food, water, things to entertain himself, blankets in case it was cold, you tried to make small talk, etc.
At first he just thought it was out of pity, so he rejected you the first few times.
But he realized pretty quickly that it was more like... empathy. you felt identified with him. So he wasn't so rude to you and started to appreciate that, you treated him like a living being regardless of his race. he likes you
When they let him walk through the castle of lions, he will most likely thank you for the good treatment compared to how the paladins saw him.
Try to "thank" you in other ways, mainly helping you out when the other paladins aren't around or can't handle it, learning a little more about human culture, and generally speaking more generally to pass the time.
If Allura and Keith were bad with overprotection, Lotor is that squared. Now that he appreciates you, there is no escaping affection.
Also, Lotor is TALL, even taller than Shiro, he could easily throw you over his shoulder and not even break a sweat.
He just can't help but find your human being too ADORABLE.
Sorry I couldn't think of much more for this part :')
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beyondmistland · 1 year
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Hello! I’m a fan of the Alysanne Maegor-Daughter AU!
I wanted to ask what headcanons you have about the women around Alysanne. Her mother, grandmother, ladies in waiting of the court, her Septa, Maegor’s other wives, etc. Female relationships are a bit lacking in ASOIAF. I hope Alysanne has friends.
I know GRRM took some inspiration from Henry VIII for Maegor’s wives, but sometimes it’s a little hard to see? Ceryse’s definitely Catherine of Aragon. So I imagine her to be well-educated, pious, and a have a strong bond with her daughter. With the other wives it’s a little more surface level stuff connecting them to RL figures.
I'll focus mainly on Ceryse, because she's the one I've thought about the most.
I imagine Ceryse as being highly intelligent and highly opinionated. A woman of culture and learning who can talk circles around most people, including her in-laws.
Given the fact Ceryse is ten years older than Maegor I also imagine she didn't put up with his shenanigans and made it very clear from the beginning she wasn't afraid of him, which I honestly think would have impressed him as much as it would have infuriated him. (There is no doubt in my mind Maegor would have bragged about marrying an older woman.)
Beyond that, I imagine Ceryse as being both very proud (or haughty according to Alyssa Velaryon) and very pious (or zealous again according to Alyssa Velaryon), two traits she would very much inculcate in her daughter and only child. ("You are the blood of Old Valyria AND Oldtown. Dragons bend to your will just as the Citadel and the Starry Sept bend to my father, your grandfather. Don't ever forget that, Alysanne. And don't you EVER let anyone else forget that either.")
Finally, I imagine Ceryse as being very adept when it comes to matters of etiquette and propriety (not unlike Alicent in the future). To use a description I came up with for one of the queens in my discarded epic fantasy setting, The Gray Compendium, "she wields courtesy like a lance and woe to the fool who dares to tilt with her."
I imagine, like Catherine of Aragon, Alysanne was close to her mother and that, by extension, she hated her father's other wives (though the bulk of said hatred would be reserved for Alys Harroway and Tyanna).
I also imagine Ceryse would not fail to surround Alysanne with a court and ladies-in-waiting of her own, as much to give her daughter a support system as to one-up Alyssa Velaryon. Naturally, some of those ladies-in-waiting would be daughters of Hightower vassals or personal friends of Ceryse. (The Velaryons and Hightowers being rivals throughout Targaryen history with the Baratheons occasionally shoving their way in-between is one of my dearer alterations to canon.)
Ceryse would definitely leave behind a treasure trove of correspondence for historians (down with the Citadel's monopoly!) to sift through. (I wouldn't be surprised if Ceryse' septa or even Alysanne herself wrote a biography of Ceryse's life.)
Ceryse and Visenya would have a...queer relationship. (Queer in the original sense of the word.) You wouldn't expect them to get along but they do, even if it isn't exactly the warmest of family ties.
Ceryse HATES Alys Harroway. Part of it is the whole polygamy issue but another aspect I imagine is that Alys and Ceryse are polar opposites with little to nothing in common. Ceryse' idea of comedy is a witty word pun or an obscure bit of religious/historical trivia, Alys' bawdy tavern jokes, the cruder the better. When Ceryse wants to display annoyance or anger her voice drops an octave, Alys will shout at the top of her lungs. Whereas Ceryse always maintains a certain amount of distance (befitting her station in her mind) Alys freely mingles with people of lower rank, even (*gasp*) smallfolk. You won't ever catch Ceryse eating with her hands or breaking a nail but Alys will gather firewood for soldiers on the march and bandage their wounds. On the other hand, Ceryse is the kind of person who prefers to keep her charity secret. Indeed, I imagine what drew Maegor's eye to Alys is that she has the same self-conviction as Ceryse while being otherwise completely different, a novelty Maegor obviously couldn't resist.
Ceryse FEARS Tyanna and for good reason. She sees Tyanna for what Tyanna is. The biggest threat to Alysanne (and Maegor).
I don't have much to say on Jeyne Westerling and Elinor Costayne other than that they both would have liked Alysanne and her them (after some initial frostiness of course).
Thanks for the question, anon
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pink-gladioli · 2 months
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it has come to my attention that we as a fandom dont talk about axl enough so leave any headcannons/theories/rewrites you have about him!
imma go a rant bellow read more
okay so we all know that axl comes from diggionton or however the heck you spell it right? and he has no last name, my reasoning is that diggington just aint that big so people don't need last names. also most of his family seems to follow the axl name so maybe it kinda works a serionirty thing? like as soon as a son is born the axl name gets passed down onto them and the father becomes "papa" or senior axl.
now when it comes to backstories i feel that axl has a pretty good one, he wanted to become a knight but his dad wanted him to stay home and run the family inn. however i feel like if we were charactize axl as less of a brute, dumb, hungry, pessant boy which lets be honest is what the show paints him as, we would have to a slightly different route. we know that axl was one of the 3 nexo knights that actually wanted to become a knight (lance cleary didn't and aarron doesn't seem to care he just doesn't like all the rules that come with knighthood) so lets use that.
maybe his dad was supportive on him becoming a knight because like we need at least one knight with a good family, it could also show how despite the fact axl wasn't the richest of the group or the most academically smart he was the happiest, but they didn't have the money to pay for the entrance exam or access to a good libary/teacher were axl could learn (remember knighton may be very advance technologically but not socially) so its more of a dream than anything.
however maybe somehow there could be another way to get into the academy and that could be by a recomenidation of a seinor knight. but maybe all the knights in digginton didn't want to bother with writing a letter of recomendation or were just bad knights.
maybe there could have been a grand event were lets say a house caught on fire and no one was willing to go in to save idk whats something innocent, a baby or smth, then boom axl runs in, saves the baby or whatever it is, gets burned in the process and while most of the knights don't admit to the fact that this preteen boy had more guts than them and was willing to risk his life to safe something that couldn't protect itself. lets have 1 knight actually realize how he and his fellow knights of diggonton have lost their values and when axl recovers he sends a letter of recomendation and boom now axl has a chance to get into the knights academy.
cew cutsence of axl working his ass off and boom basic character backstory. but i can already hear that "this sound more like a clay backstory" which yes it would work pretty well for clay but i actually have a different charactization of clay then the show. i think it would be interesting if clay wasn't a knight because it was the right thing to do but instead because he looked up to the ideals of a knight and the determination to get there.
i mean for king halberts sake clay grew up on the streets, he couldn't have gone along carring for every singel person he saw or else he wouldn't have surived himself. and maybe that could be clays main character arc that he realizes that being a knight isn't about doing the right thing because its nobel or honnorable but instead being a knight has it roots in caring and wanting to protect others. and who could he learn that from- AXL BABY! yeah this show needs more of the main five interacting with each other. crap this got long and it probably isn't even readable, oh well
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theteasetwrites · 2 years
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The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning
Chapter 95: Designation Two
❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: mild language, violence ❧ Word Count: 8k
❧ In This Chapter: Everyone gets taken, including you. The Commonwealth has special plans for you, however, and Daryl has plans of his own, all of which involve getting you back.
❧ A/N: Um so it's been a little while. Lots of things have happened since I posted the last chapter. The finale of TWD premiered, I got to see the majority of the main cast in person in Los Angeles, Thanksgiving happened, I started my new job, and I kind of sort of got pissed off because someone didn't like that the reader was a vegetarian lol it's been a wild week. But please don't let any of that get in the way of enjoying this new chapter! I hated replacing Connie with this little side plot, but we also love to see Daryl being a knight in shining armor so I think it's okay. We still stan Connie. <3
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They took everyone.
Ezekiel, Princess, Negan, Annie, Magna, Rosita, Gabriel, Maggie, Connie, Kelly… You, and the kids, everyone. 
Daryl had been waiting for you at the designated spot, where he prepared the wagon with the last of your belongings, along with Judith, RJ, and Dog.
They took him by surprise, no doubt knowing he would be the hardest to get. Daryl never went down without a fight, but this time, his fight wasn’t good enough.
Four men were sent to deal with him, two of which got away with both the children (and even Dog) while the other two engaged in a heavy tussle with the patron of the Dixon family, resulting in the deaths of both men, but not before the children were already taken away.
Only Daryl and Carol had avoided capture, and when Carol found Daryl, their only option was to seek the help of the maligned former deputy governor of the Commonwealth, Lance Hornsby.
Locked away in a heavily guarded prison cell, Hornsby promised to lead them to where you and the others had been taken, and when he outlived his usefulness, having revealed that following the train tracks outside of the Commonwealth would lead to the missing people, Carol killed him. 
Of course, you had no idea about all that. All you knew now was that you were shrouded in darkness, with a burlap sack over your head as you awoke.
You were sitting, but you were moving. It’d been a long time since you were in a moving vehicle, so long that it didn’t even register to you at first. When your eyes finally shot fully open, you shook your head to knock off the sack, and it was still dark, but there was a dim light coming from the headlights and the brake lights. You were in the back of a military vehicle, probably one of the vans the Commonwealth Army used. In the darkness, you could just barely make out three others, all with sacks over their heads, too. You could barely see over the front seats, but there were two soldiers there, one driving, the other looking aimlessly out the window into the darkness outside. 
When you tried to move your hands, you quickly realized they were tied. It felt like a zip tie, but you couldn’t be totally sure—they were behind your back. 
The last thing you remembered the most clearly was being separated from Robin and Westley, and after that, your senses were dulled from the burlap sack over your head, though you recalled a sharp prick in the base of your neck, where they’d injected you with some kind of anesthesia. 
It could’ve been days since then for all you knew, and wherever they were taking you, it probably wasn’t good. You weren’t going to stick around to find out. 
What mattered most now was finding the others, finding the kids, finding Daryl. You couldn’t even let yourself think too hard about what might’ve happened to them, lest you break down and start crying. No, you had to get out of here. That was the first thing, then you could go looking for them, and then you could grieve, if you needed to.
“Hey,” you whispered to the others, trying not to catch the attention of the soldiers. “I’m gonna get us out of here.”
One of the other captives sat up straight, seemingly in response to you. “(Y/N)?”
You recognized that voice, it was Heather, Robin’s former teacher from Alexandria, and the mother of Emily, your former student. “Heather… Just follow my lead. I’ve got a plan. Kind of.”
The plan you had developed in the meantime was primitive, but it could work. You just had to believe it would. 
“Hey,” you called out to the soldiers up front. The one in the passenger seat turned to look at you through the cage that separated you from him. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
The driver scoffed. “That’s too damn bad,” he called back. “No one gets out till we get to Outpost 22.”
You paused for a moment, thinking of anything you could say to get them to stop. “If you don’t let me out,” you said, “I’ll pee all over this van.” It was a sentence you’d never thought you’d say out loud to a stranger, but then again, it wasn’t too far off. You’d just given birth, and your bladder wasn’t as strong as it used to be. 
“Shit,” you heard one of the soldiers mumble under his breath. The van came to a slow halt, and you sighed a little in relief, though the hard part was coming up. 
The soldier in the passenger seat opened the door and slammed it shut, shaking the van. From the front seat, you could hear the other soldier speaking into the walkie. “One of them’s gotta piss,” he said. “Keep the convoy movin’, we’ll catch up in a few minutes.”
It wasn’t lost on you that these two soldiers most definitely had powerful automatic weapons, but you also were confident you could wrestle with one and snatch his gun before the other could notice. Well, you weren’t really too confident, but it was worth a shot.
The back doors of the van opened thunderously, causing Heather and the other two captives to flinch at the sound, while you squinted desperately to see beyond the burlap. You could just barely make out a figure approaching you in the darkness, until he ripped off the burlap sack and grabbed your arm to escort you out of the van.
“Hurry up,” he said, pushing you out until you hopped onto the ground below. 
You scoffed, wiggling your hands in the confinement of the zip tie. “How am I supposed to pull my pants down with my hands tied?” you asked. 
The masked soldier tilted his head and huffed. You could tell you were pissing him off, but it was now or never.
He went behind you to loosen the zip tie, pulling it off your wrists. “It’s going back on when you’re done,” he said. “Try to run and I’ll shoot you.”
“I’m not going to run,” you said, and it wasn’t a lie. You really weren’t going to run. You were going to fight, even if it would’ve been smarter to run. Sometimes, life requires stupid decisions.
“Good,” he replied, stepping back. “Now hurry up, lady.”
You swallowed hard, rubbing the rash on your wrist from the zip tie as you thought of the next move. It occurred to you then that the soldier was staring at you, not allowing you any kind of privacy in which to relieve yourself. 
You turned to face him. “Do you mind?” you asked. “I can’t go with you watching me.”
For a moment, you feared the man would refuse to allow you privacy, but, to your immense relief, he slowly turned around, facing his back to you. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” he said.
With a deep breath, you wasted no more time. Lunging at the man’s back, you tackled him with all your might, wrestling him to the ground as you tried to take his gun. You were able to quickly yank off his helmet before grabbing the gun and bashing the stock against his head until he seemed to lose consciousness. Powered by adrenaline, you pried open the back of the van, without even thinking of the other soldier, who you hadn’t noticed was no longer in the driver’s seat. 
You quickly untied Heather and the others, two men you didn’t recognize, but who must’ve been other citizens of the Commonwealth. “Let’s go,” you said. 
Heather’s eyes widened as she peered over your shoulder. “Behind you!”
You turned with the gun held high, but before you could shoot, the other soldier already fired several rounds into the two men, and then one into Heather.
It all happened so fast, but you lunged behind one of the seats, about ready to raise your gun to shoot back. 
Before the next shots could be fired, you heard the voice of the soldier you’d knocked out. “Don’t shoot her!” he said. “She’s designation two!”
Designation two?
You looked over your shoulder to see Heather’s body bleeding out, the blood pouring from her lower abdomen, the life already drained from her eyes. You huffed a deep breath, processing another death of an Alexandrian. The gun in your hands wouldn’t be enough to take down the guards. They were heavily armored, and you knew from examining Daryl’s Commonwealth uniform that it was nearly bullet proof, except for the spaces in between the armor plates where only fabric covered the skin, but it was too dark to aim properly, and you were too exhausted to focus. 
You felt the van rock as the two men slowly climbed up into the cabin, with one saying, “Stand up. We won’t shoot.”
Fat chance, you thought. 
If they weren’t going to shoot you, they were going to do something with you, and whatever “designation two” was, you didn’t want to stick around to find out. You wanted to find your child and your newborn. They needed you. Daryl would be fine on his own, wherever he was, though you hoped he was somehow with Robin and Westley. If he wasn’t, he was looking for them, and you. Worst case scenario, he was dead, but if you knew Daryl, and you were pretty sure you did, you knew that he was a hard son of a bitch to kill.
You, on the other hand, weren’t so tough.  
When you stood to aim your gun at the two guards, one was quicker this time. The barrel of his rifle smacked you across the head, knocking you to the floor of the van. You were just barely still conscious, with hazy eyes as you watched the guards close the back door of the van. Wherever you were going, you’d have no idea where you were until you woke from the uncomfortable slumber you soon fell into. It was daylight outside when you awoke, hands tied once again, and now in the backseat of a jeep, driving alongside some train tracks. 
Hornsby’s lead had taken them to the train tracks, somewhere quite far outside the Commonwealth, but Daryl wasn’t entirely focused on the distance now, since wherever his family was, it wasn’t in the Commonwealth. 
He and Carol watched from the cover of the woods that morning, Daryl with his binoculars as his eyes scanned the scene. A train had just arrived, stopping on the tracks. With each guard standing around, he counted.
“There’s six of ‘em,” he said to Carol. Just then, another train arrived, with several Commonwealth Army vehicles on it. Soldiers shouted indistinguishably to each other, barking orders as the second train came to a halt. 
“Think we can follow it without them seeing us?” asked Carol.
Daryl lowered the binoculars for a moment. “We hang back far enough, we’ll be fine.”
Then the sound of a much smaller engine, and Daryl raised the binoculars to look towards the mechanical gurgle. From his view, he could see one Commonwealth soldier in uniform, driving the topless jeep, and a man he didn’t recognize sitting behind in regular clothes, but his hands were untied—he must’ve been with them, Daryl figured.
In the passenger seat, it was hard to see past the bulky Commonwealth armor adorning the guard driving the jeep, but there was someone there, too, and on top of their head was a familiar white beanie, with a poof on top. He’d gotten you one just like it as a birthday present one year, when you said you needed more hats. You loved that hat, he loved when you wore it. You were wearing it before he left to meet up with you, before his plan went awry.
The man in the back seat jumped up to grab the passenger’s arm, and the soldier stood up to circle around and grab the other one. Daryl knew now. Well, he knew from the minute he saw that hat poking out over the soldier’s silhouette, but he didn’t want to believe it. Maybe a part of him did, just because he wanted you to be alive, and now he knew that you were, but your wrists were held together with zip ties, no doubt so tight they’d leave a bruise or even break the skin. Your face looked tired, confused, scared… All feelings he had always tried his best to never let you feel. 
There was a bruise on the side of your face where you’d been hit, and that disturbed him the most. It made him instinctively tighten every muscle as his heartbeat began to race until it felt as though it would burst from his chest, grow wings, and fly to you. 
The soldier and the other man pulled you to another soldier, and the men all proceeded to talk, though it came across as only a murmur. 
“They got (Y/N),” Daryl breathed, without moving his gaze from you. “They got my wife.” 
His hands grew weak, handing the binoculars to Carol. As soon as she lowered them, searching through her bag to pull out a walkie talkie, Daryl snatched them back. He brought them to his eyes once more, just to study every single detail of the scene in case it would prove to be what he needed to get you back. 
Carol switched through several channels on the walkie until a man’s voice surfaced over the grainy static of the radio. “Guy’s saying I have to put an exile on here,” he said. “It’s a cargo transport and against regs. Over.”
Another man’s voice replied. “It’s been cleared from up on high. She’s not gonna be a worker, she’s designation two.”
“Oh, shit,” the other man replied. 
“Yeah, exactly.”
“Get her there safely.”
“Copy that.”
Daryl’s heart pounded against his tight, strained chest. He had no way of knowing what “designation two” meant, but all he knew was that you weren’t safe, and that you belonged in his arms, not being loaded onto a train that would take you to God knows where. Daryl believed in simplicity, and what he didn’t need to know was of no consequence to him. He just needed to know that you were all right, and he needed you with him, in arm’s reach. If he didn’t have that, there was something very, very wrong. 
“What’s designation two?” asked Carol, though Daryl couldn’t even think to answer that question. 
What was going on in his head at that moment was much more practical. He needed to find the kids, but he needed to get you out of the hands of the Commonwealth, too. It was an impossible decision, one that he couldn’t really make, but it was clear what he needed to do. He needed to do what you would want him to do, and though you couldn’t see him looking at you from afar, watching you as your captors pushed you around and manhandled you far too much for Daryl’s liking, he could tell that you were thinking about the children, about your baby. 
That was the most pressing matter, and as much as he wanted to pick up his crossbow and wipe out every son of a bitch who touched you, he knew that wasn’t a valid option, and that he’d be dead in a matter of seconds. Still, it sounded good, even if he died doing it. At least he’d die for you, even if he was being stupid.
“We can’t go get her,” he said after a while of thinking. “They’ll radio ahead. We won’t find the kids.”
“Hey,” Carol replied. “We’ll hang back, and we’ll follow it to the others, and we’re gonna bust ‘em out all at once.”
As much as Daryl wanted to listen to that rational voice in his head, the one that kept him from getting killed, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to find you as soon as possible. That might’ve not quite aligned with his words, or his brain, but it was what his heart wanted. Every inch of his body was at war with itself. As usual, you made his heart beat so loud he couldn’t hear himself think anymore. Still, he would try. 
So much for trying.
Before the train got too far ahead, Daryl and Carol took out a few soldiers and hijacked their jeep, using it to follow the train on its way to wherever it was going, with you on it. 
When the train had gone where the jeep couldn’t follow, they got ahead of it, driving at full speed to reach a junction in the tracks that the train hadn’t hit yet. There was a barn and some farmland nestled not too far from the tracks, where they staked out. The train was surely going to stop there, and surely that would be the time to attack. 
“Train’s gonna hit that junction,” said Carol. “We should just sit tight till it does.”
Daryl scoffed under his breath. He’d grown impatient, his own emotions and fears getting ahead of that practical statement he’d made. Finding the kids first was important, and he stood by that, but the longer he thought of what could be happening to you on that train, the more antsy he became. 
“I don’t think I can do that,” he said, heading back towards the jeep to load up his bow. Carol called out to him, but he had already gotten in the driver’s seat, huffing and puffing as he tried to get a hold of his emotions. He’d known what it was like to be in this position. It was dangerously close to what happened a year ago, when he thought he really had lost you. 
Now, he knew you were alive, but any minute now, that could change. What if you tried to escape, and they shot at you? He didn’t even want to think about that, but he knew you, and he knew that you’d do anything to find those children. Not just yours, but Judith and RJ, too, and all the others, as surely there were other children that had been taken too. 
Carol had joked once that you were the “godmother” for every child in Alexandria, that you were the most motherly person she knew. You had always found this statement ironic, since you never even cared for children that much until you had grown to love every child that was part of your family, and at this point, you had a very big family. All of Alexandria, really. 
Daryl knew this, too. It worried him, how you’d sacrifice yourself for so many people, but then again, he’d do the same. For two people who, on the surface, were so different from each other, you were a lot alike. 
His hands tapped nervously on the steering wheel, his breath still deep and shaky as he tried to control himself for a moment. Carol’s voice cut through his thoughts, though not even the voice of an old friend could comfort him now. 
“When I saw her get on that train,” she said, “and I saw the door shut, I thought the same thing that you did.”
He huffed another anxious, impatient breath. “What’s that?”
There was a beat of silence as Carol thought whether or not to say what she was thinking. After all, Daryl had never vocally forgiven her for what had happened last year, but it was an unspoken agreement that he wouldn’t bring it up again. In fact, he’d never even brought it up with you, not since the night you returned home. It was difficult for him to deal with that again, thinking you were really gone. As much as he hated to admit it, he still couldn’t quite look in Carol’s eyes the same way he once did. She’d betrayed his trust so much during that time, and her carelessness had nearly gotten you, Magna, and Connie killed. Three people that Daryl was responsible for, that he cared about, and one that he loved. 
“The cave,” she said. 
The lump in his throat swelled so much he couldn’t speak, though a part of him wanted to silence Carol right then and there. As far as he was concerned, she had no right to bring that up to him. Whether or not she felt sorry for what she’d done, he didn’t want to hear it. It was the worst day of his life. No amount of death he had experienced could have prepared him for losing you, even if he had never actually lost you. It was too close, too real. 
“Do you remember what Kelly said,” Carol continued, “the minute they were gone?”
He had to think on it for a little while, since just about everything after that cave swallowed you up was a blur, and maybe it was self-preservation, but he wanted to forget that day. Nothing good came of it, and his body had never ached so much in his entire life. He swore he felt his soul leave when he thought you were gone, and when he almost died, bleeding out in that abandoned auto shop, he just wanted to be with you again, even if that meant never taking in another breath of air again. Air was nothing to him if you weren’t breathing it, too. 
But just then, he remembered—“We can’t save them if we’re dead,” he said. 
“She’s your wife. We can play this however you want, but if we go it alone, we might be making the same mistakes again… We might not be able to save her.”
It took him a moment to regain clarity, but he eventually let his breath go, and nodded ever so slightly. “All right.”
But it wasn’t all right. When Daryl had heard the whirring of a nearby motorcycle, he and Carol followed the sound, hoping to get some answers from whatever Commonwealth soldier was most likely on that bike.
When they got there, they didn’t just find a soldier, but Maggie. She’d knocked out the soldier, but also stabbed him in the side of his chest, just between the armor plates. Of course, Daryl was relieved to see Maggie, but his focus for the time being was doing one thing he knew he could do quite well: interrogating. 
In the barn back at the group’s stakeout point, Daryl had lugged the unconscious soldier. He was bleeding profusely, with deep red pouring from his mouth and onto the bright white chest plate that Daryl himself once wore. As he lifted the half-awake soldier to his feet, trying to get him fully conscious again, he felt a bit of empathy, like he could’ve easily been in this man’s shoes, too, if only he had followed the rules. 
But then again, it would be against his nature to follow rules he didn’t agree with. Sure, Daryl wasn’t opposed to following orders. It was one thing the Commonwealth had said would make him a good soldier, his loyalty. They didn’t know him well enough, though. They didn’t know that Daryl’s loyalty had limits. Some people just didn’t deserve his loyalty, and whatever loyalty he ever had to the Commonwealth, it was really loyalty to his family. 
His family was the only reason he cared to fight for the Commonwealth army. Promises of good pay and good housing were the only incentives that encouraged him to keep putting on that stupid uniform. He was never proud of it, never bonded with his co-workers or spent time getting to know them outside of work. Maybe he would’ve known this man if he bothered to remember anyone’s face, but whenever he had that uniform on, he tried to separate himself from the armor. 
When his body hit the hard, corrugated metal wall, his eyes shot open just before he sank down to the ground, coughing up more blood. Daryl let go as he knelt down beside the injured man. 
“Let me see,” he said, lifting the chest plate to reveal the bloody wound where Maggie had stabbed him near the armpit. It was a bad puncture wound, and he’d lost so much blood already that there was most likely no chance of helping him. 
Still, he was alive right now, and if he knew anything about what they planned on doing to you, and if he knew exactly where the kids were, and the rest of his people, he’d make sure the last moments of this man’s life were put to some kind of use.
“You’re runnin’ out of time,” he said, low and gravelly, as usual, but somehow soft enough to convey whatever empathy he had for the dying soldier. His voice and gaze grew even softer as he thought of what to say next. In a matter of seconds, he became so vulnerable, desperate for help. The lives of the people he cared about most might depend on the flickering light of life in front of him. 
What he next sounded more like begging than he had intended, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t desperate now. After so many times of almost losing you, and now maybe losing his children, he couldn’t bear the thought of it. Not another minute could be spent not looking for you.
“I’m gonna ask you to please,” he said, “do somethin’ good… with the time you have left.”
The soldier shifted as he coughed up more blood, holding the wound all the while. 
“Where’s that train goin’?” His voice was calm, not at all filled with anger. Maybe several years ago, he would’ve had the energy to scream and yell, to start off the interrogation with brute force and physical assault, but right now, at this precise moment, there wasn’t any aggression. At least, there wasn’t enough to allow him to raise his voice. Maybe the more the soldier ignored him, the more forceful he’d get, but for now, all he could see in his head was you—alone, scared, hurt.
“They put my wife on it,” he said, as the soldier still remained silent, despite a few grunts and coughs. “Said she was ‘designation two.’ What’s that mean?”
The soldier coughed again, then closed his mouth tight, avoiding Daryl’s gaze. He should’ve taken advantage of Daryl’s relative kindness, because his patience wasn’t going to last forever. 
Still, he only sighed a bit, and continued to speak in that hushed voice. It felt odd, since this tone was usually reserved for people he loved deeply. People like you, and Robin, and now his son. He just couldn't shake you from his mind. 
You would’ve been proud of him, he supposed. He wasn’t immediately resorting to harshness and violence to get the information from him. As he thought of what you might’ve done next, he recalled that you always tried to find common ground with people, to find a way to show empathy. Maybe now was a good time to try that approach.
“Y’know, I was like you once,” he said, still so quiet, soft-spoken, and yet confident that he could get something out of him. He had to believe it. “I joined the force… ‘Cause my family needed money.”
Inexplicable guilt rushed over him then, and he averted his gaze, as if in shame. He’d had to do many things he didn’t want to do, taken dirty money he didn’t want, but he did it for you and the kids, so at least he could say he was living for love.
“M’guessing that’s your story, too,” he said. 
The soldier still didn’t say a thing, just breathed heavily, slightly wheezing as his blood grew colder. Daryl’s patience was close to running thin, and as he stood back up to his feet, he examined the soldier with almost a look of disgust. He couldn’t believe he’d wasted his feelings on someone who couldn’t care less about his plight. So much for empathy. 
“They took my kids from me,” he said, his voice growing louder, more impassioned. Energy began to rise up in the pit of his stomach, adrenaline pumping through him. The next sentence came out in almost a yell as angry desperation took hold of him. “And I want ‘em back.”
He could feel the tether inside him snap when the soldier still didn’t respond. He figured he’d been good enough, and you’d be proud of his restraint, but he had his limits, and he’d reached it. 
“You hear me?!” That guttural, raspy exclamation echoed slightly between the walls of the abandoned barn. Daryl’s foot simultaneously rammed into the soldier’s side, jolting him back and forth as he grimaced and grunted in pain.
“Train’s gonna be here soon,” Carol’s voice came from behind. Daryl turned to see her joined by Gabriel, who must’ve found them. 
“That’s all right,” he replied, “we can hurry.” He pulled one of his knives from the holder on his belt, lazily brandishing it, but holding it tight. “You wanna die quick… or you wanna die screamin’?”
If Gabriel hadn’t stepped in, that soldier would’ve known just how serious Daryl was, but the priest knew the man, and was able to get through to him more than Daryl could’ve. 
When Gabriel had so eloquently and gently struck the fear of God into the soldier, he finally talked. He said that the “exiles” were being taken to a labor camp, but he wasn’t sure of the exact location, and that they’d need to follow the train in order to get there. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
And then, when the soldier turned to look at Daryl, he felt his heart sink. No good news could come from a dying man with that look in his eyes, a look of… pity. 
“I’ve only heard rumors about designation two,” he said, choking on his blood and tears. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, yet tried to keep his cool and listen intently to whatever the dying man had to tell him. “They’re taken somewhere far away… They’re never seen again.”
Without hesitating another moment, Daryl got to thinking. There was no way he’d let that train go past the junction with you on it, especially not now. The conflict was that stopping the train to rescue you would cause the Commonwealth soldiers on it to radio in and inform the outpost that they’d been attacked. In that case, it’d be much more difficult to find the children and the other “exiles.”
Carol, as usual, had a plan, and all you heard were gunshots.
The train had stopped at a junction, you supposed. You knew trains pretty well, having taken them back and forth to visit home from college. Those were different, much nicer, trains, and you’d never heard gunshots from inside the Amtrak observation car. 
At first, you figured it was routine walker slayings, but your common sense told you that soldiers wouldn’t waste their bullets on a few walkers. In that case, it had to have been many walkers, or people. Now, you’d killed many walkers with a gun before, and you’d never had to shoot in such rapid fire succession. These gunshots were going back and forth, the sounds coming from all different directions, and there were hardly even a few seconds between each shot. 
“What’s happening?” you asked the Commonwealth soldier in charge of you. He had his head poking out the car door, the last car in the train. 
When he ignored you, you stood from the makeshift seat. Thank God your hands weren’t ziptied anymore, and you could now use them to grab the soldier’s shoulder, demanding an answer. You were now, for lack of a better word, cranky. Your whole family had been kidnapped, you had no idea what was going on, and you had a real bitch of a headache. 
You’d also just given birth, lest you forget. 
“Hey,” you said, trying to peer past the man’s shoulders. “What’s all that—”
Something shifted in the air, and you were suddenly no longer important enough to “keep safe.” The soldier forcefully turned you around and grabbed your arm as his other hand reached for his pistol. “Shut up,” was all he said. 
The gunshots seemed to cease then, but you had a gun held to your head. It was hardly a relief. 
Without a choice, you hopped out of the train car in the arms of the soldier, disoriented and still trying to get used to standing after so long of sitting. Your legs felt a bit numb, but they kept you upright as the soldier frantically turned his body and yours every which way, as if looking for something. 
Your mind was both racing and completely blank, as every thought you conjured was too jumbled up to make any sense of, until the sound of leaves crushing and the feeling of a presence behind you alerted the soldier, turning the both of you around. 
Daryl. 
He held one of the Commonwealth standard-issue rifles up high, ready to shoot. Despite your wriggling and attempts to throw your head back and hit the soldier, he managed to keep his arm tight around you, with the gun still to your head. 
Daryl’s silvery blue eyes were locked onto the soldier as he kept the gun at eye level, not backing down. He had his crossbow strapped to his back, too, and a look you recognized as unbridled aggression. 
“Drop it,” demanded the soldier, while Daryl’s mind raced to catch up with the situation. He was looking at you for a moment, breathing heavily and searching your face for all the answers. “Drop it!” 
He leaned down slowly, letting the gun fall to the ground as he raised his hand in subtle surrender, eyes almost pleading as they locked onto the soldier. 
“Crossbow, too.” 
He lifted the bow from his back, dropping it next to the gun. As the soldier’s grip tightened, you found your hands grasping as his arm, trying to pry it off, but to no avail. 
“You took out that antenna, hm?”
Now, both of Daryl’s hands were up, but his body looked about ready to lunge forward, rocking anxiously back and forth. 
“Yeah,” he replied shortly. 
“You cut the wire or you shut it off?”
You weren’t entirely sure why he bothered to ask Daryl how he disturbed the radio communication, but you supposed that as long as you were both alive, for the moment, that was a good thing. 
Daryl’s eyes trailed to yours again, and he remained silent, only trying to communicate with you through the comforting softness in that look he gave you. There was something practical behind those eyes, too, as he thought about what on Earth he was going to do next. 
You realized that there wasn’t really anything Daryl could do now, and that you needed to take matters into your own hands for a moment. It might’ve been a risk, but if you threw your arm up and behind you with enough strength, you could momentarily dislodge the gun from the soldier’s hand. 
“Answer me!”
Without another thought, you lifted your arm and pushed back against him, knocking him backwards and disorienting him, until his arm swung back, intentionally backhanding you with enough strength to knock you to the ground. 
Without a gun, the soldier retreated back into the train car, while you rolled back over onto your back, catching your breath. The next thing you saw was Daryl standing over you, leaning down as his fingerless-gloved hands drifted down to gently touch your face. “You okay?” he asked. 
Honestly, you barely had any idea where you were. You hadn’t known where you were for about twenty-four hours now. Still, you reached up to touch his arms with both hands, as if grasping for the only thing you could really make sense of. He was standing right in front of you, the best thing you’d ever seen. “Yeah,” you huffed, nodding hard. 
He stood back straight, letting his hands slide into yours before turning to follow the soldier, not wanting to risk him getting away. Well, and he held a gun to your head, and hit you. Now it was personal. 
When you got to your feet, with the help of Carol, you caught a glimpse of the soldier hijacking one of the Commonwealth motorcycles, driving off. Daryl jumped on one, too, following behind. 
Maggie and Carol had taken the train conductor hostage, taking him to the barn in the hopes that seeing the now dead Commonwealth soldier would inspire him to help supply information. You stayed outside the barn, waiting for Daryl. Maybe that was a selfish decision, but you hadn’t found yourself wanting to hug anyone more than you wanted to hug Daryl right now.
Leaning against the side of the barn, you perked up when the roar of the engine approached. Daryl looked rather dashing to you, the wind blowing his wavy, chestnut-colored hair back to show his stoic face, but the closer he got to you, the more a smile seemed to creep up. It was slow, and very subtle, but you knew his face so well that you could identify every nook and cranny under a microscope. 
You walked forward as he kicked the stand of the bike before turning it off, then he nearly tripped over himself as he hopped off of it, fast-walking to you. 
With a laugh, you accepted his big hug, and felt him lift you a few inches off the ground with a grunt. Your arms squeezed him tight as you rested your chin on his shoulder, taking the moment to close your eyes and just feel him hold you close. Everything else might’ve been wrong, but at least you had one thing that felt so right again. 
“Thought I wasn’t gonna see ya again,” he said over your shoulder, his voice low and melancholy. When he pulled away, still keeping his body tight against yours, he cupped your cheeks with his cool fingertips, and he could feel the skin of your cheeks pulling as you smiled wide at him. 
“You know we’re stuck together,” you said. “Whether you like it or not.”
His eyes only left yours for a few moments to scan behind you, and you knew he was making sure no one was around to see him show whatever affection he had in store for you. When you caught a glimpse of the deep pink blush forming on his cheeks, you let out a hushed giggle, but you didn’t want to embarrass him too much, even if he looked incredibly cute.
His hands cupped your cheeks tighter, pulling you close to him until he could kiss your lips. It was a simple kiss, but it lingered for a while, until he pulled away with a soft, boyish smile, and let the tip of his button nose rub back and forth against yours. 
“You’re like a schoolboy,” you laughed, unable to keep yourself from poking a little loving fun at him. “Why are you giggling?”
He scoffed and lowered his head, still with that adorably crooked smile that brought so much youth back to his face, not that he really needed it. He aged so gracefully that you were almost jealous of him. Forty-eight years old, and yet he really didn’t look much different than when you first met him, besides the longer hair and the scar on his cheek. The few little wrinkles and crow’s feet he had were endearing and accentuated his handsome face well. His skin was perfect, really. You chalked it up to good genes, he chalked it up to you taking such good care of him.
One hand left your cheek to straighten your hat, the beanie he’d gotten for you. His eyes did a few circles around your face, admiring the glow you always seemed to have whenever he was around. 
“I got you back,” he said. 
“My hero.”
The blush on his cheeks darkened ever so slightly, but he tried to distract from it by busying himself with examining the bruises on your face. You’d been hit in the face twice now. Though you felt lucky to get away with such minor injuries, Daryl’s smile turned to a concerned frown. 
“You in any pain?” he asked. “You wanna sit down, drink some water?”
Bless his heart. 
The only thing about being on missions with Daryl was that he often worried about you a little too much, when he should’ve been worrying about other things. In that way, you supposed you were a bit of a distraction, but that was Daryl’s fault, not yours.
“I’m fine, sweetie. What about the kids? Do you know where they are? Have you found them?”
He froze for a moment, prolonging the inevitable answer. “No,” he said, his hands now rubbing the sides of your arms up and down, wrinkling the fabric of your windbreaker. “We’re still tryin’ to find exactly where everybody is.”
Your heart sank. Though you knew it was unlikely, there was a glimmer of hope inside you that Daryl and the others had somehow found the children, that you’d be able to see Robin and Westley again.
Robin was six, only a month away from turning seven. She was smart, but she was vulnerable. Westley even more so. He was a newborn, incapable of surviving on his own at all. He needed his parents, he needed you, especially. A mother’s milk could run dry without an infant to drink it.
Daryl knew this, and he saw the worry and fear well up in your eyes, though you lowered your head, trying to hide it. He lifted your chin as he spoke softly, barely above a whisper. “Hey,” he said. “S’gon’ be all right.” He pulled you back into his arms, forcing your face against his warm, inviting chest. Your hands grasped at his shoulder blades, nestled behind his angel wings. “We’re gonna get them back. We’re gonna get them back, and they’re gonna be just fine.”
You sniffled, holding back a few tears. “Westley…”
“He’s all right,” said Daryl, not knowing if that was true or not, but he’d say anything to ease your mind, to get you to focus on finding the kids instead of mourning them. 
You shook your head. “He’s just a little baby.”
“And he’s a Dixon, so is Robin,” he reminded you, pulling away again to meet your eyes. “Dixon’s can handle anything… even the lil’ ones.”
You laughed through your tears, nodding with his statement. “What about a… Dixon-by-marriage? Can they handle anything?”
His lips quirked into a small smile, the kind of soft, warm smile that had lulled you to a deep, lovely sleep many times before. “Course they can. They’re tougher than a blood Dixon, just for puttin’ up with us.”
“It’s not so bad,” you said, absentmindedly fixing his windswept hair. It was always a bit askew after a motorcycle ride. “You’re perfect, actually… And you’re right. We’ll find them.”
The hostage train conductor had proven to be a figurative and literal dead end when he killed himself instead of agreeing to help you all get to the outpost where your people were being taken to. The next solution was to get the radios working again, and use that to get some intel about where exactly the place was located. 
By nightfall, you were all gathered in the barn around a small fire, watching Rosita as she worked her magic on the radio. You were always impressed with her technological skills, which seems to come naturally to her.
When she had it working, she radioed in to dispatch, pretending to be a Commonwealth soldier who’d gotten lost at the junction asking for directions to the outpost.
The dispatcher gave a series of directions, all of which sounded pretty routine, but when mentioned one thing, you felt a pit form in your stomach. 
“Head down the road until you find a suburban neighborhood,” she said. “A section has been shored up and fortified with walls. You’ll see friendly faces in the guard tower.”
Suburban neighborhood… Fortified walls… 
That could’ve been any place, couldn’t it?
No, there was no place like home.
“When you get here, you’ll take the northeast gate closest to the railroad tracks, and we’ll have guards on the lookout for you. Unfortunately, we don’t have any spare units to send out your way for a pickup. We have a convoy coming in for colonial processing. Governor’s orders.”
You furrowed your brow, sharing a look with Daryl. That must’ve been your people, and you were willing to bet that this outpost twenty-two was also housing your children.
“Twenty-two, did you say a convoy is coming in for reprocessing?” asked Rosita.
“Yes, ma’am. Word is that most of the processees used to live here before the Commonwealth claimed the territory and turned it into an outpost, back when it was still called Alexandria.”
No… no. Please don’t be true.
It was a gut punch, a smack to the face. The third time you’d been smacked in the face that day in the last twenty-four hours. How could Hornsby and Milton do this to your people behind your backs? Well, you had expected it from Hornsby, frankly, but Milton… You’d talked to her personally. You’d sat with her in your brother’s house and talked about your pregnancy and your daughter and your family. You’d told her about the triumphs your people had overcome, and how Alexandria had come back stronger every time. 
And all this time, after Aaron and the others came to the Commonwealth, under the impression that Alexandria was being rebuilt, it was really being used as a labor camp, a place where the Miltons could send all the people they found unsightly or unagreeable. They had taken everything that was beautiful about your home and turned it into something ugly.
The place where you’d raised your family and carved out a future for your children was now part of the Commonwealth, part of something evil. 
As all this clouded your terrified mind, you felt Daryl’s large warm hand curl tightly around yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand. You flinched to look at him, his face illuminated by the soft orange glow of the fire. You saw sadness and disappointment in his eyes, too. You shared that look of betrayal, of guilt. If only you’d been less trusting, but what else were you to do? Alexandria was dangerous, and you were pregnant. There wasn’t much of a choice. Either move to the Commonwealth, or lose something else. Whatever that something might’ve been, you didn’t want to know. 
So now you’d have to face the consequences, but so would Pamela Milton.
“The Warden will debrief you when you get to base,” the voice of the dispatcher on the radio continued. “In the meantime, keep an eye out for any more hostiles on the road. If you have to engage, shoot to kill. Watch your 6, and godspeed, 301.”
Rosita reluctantly held the radio back to her lips. “Thanks, 22. See you soon.”
Silence settled in among all of you. With your arms crossed, you leaned against the barn, shaking your head as you still processed everything you’d just heard. “They turned our home into a prison camp,” you said, voice shaky with rage. “They can’t get away with this.”
Your gaze met Maggie, who nodded in agreement as she thought, her face so incredibly serious. Some days, you saw the same carefree farm girl you met in Georgia, feeding the chickens and talking with you about men. The world had a way of hardening people, burying those parts down deep inside. Your old friend was still in there, but you knew that until this was over, Maggie was going to rip heads off with her teeth. 
“Milton has underestimated us since day one,” she said, lips tight and voice deep with anger. “We are gonna get our kids, take back our home, and make it right.” 
You didn’t notice it until Daryl squeezed your hand, but he’d never let go. Thank God he didn’t, otherwise you might forget you still had him to keep you strong. You’d need him for this. You’d need each other. That much was certain. 
After a short silence, Maggie spoke once more. “And Pamela’s never gonna see it coming.”
~
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philtstone · 6 months
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Frodo (or your chosen Blorbo from the Shire), 4
i cant actually remember which prompt list this was from so i am splicing together the taylor swift prompts "a secret language" and "caressing the other's hand" and humbly offering you an unedited This. also i MIGHT be playing fast and loose with canon but i swear i read somewhere that aragorn asked the besties to sleep over at his place (stay at the palace) for an extra month bc he wanted them to be there for his wedding. if it isnt canon it is now .. in my heart
In the streets of Minas Tirith there is joy today.
Frodo notes this absently, from a short distance, as he seems to feel everything these days. Actually, he ought to correct himself: not everything. He feels some things quite closely. He feels desperately homesick for Bilbo's pipeweed in a way that sits heavily in his heart. He feels like every new day he cannot imagine taking even one more step forward -- even just to get from gardens to the kitchen to greet Sam -- despite the fact that he always manages. And he feels that quiet lancing pain of distance between his self and everything else, like a darning needle going through an old wool sock you just don't want to give up on yet -- quite closely.
None of these feelings are truly capable of ruining the pleasantness of his stroll through the marketplace, so Frodo doesn't think it's much use to dwell on them. The sun is shining, making the weather a balmy warm and bringing out the green of new little saplings against the white stones. And even though on many another day, the bubbling chatter would be a tad too much for his tired spirit to handle, today it is making it easier to take those steps forward.
"I'm grateful for the leisurely pace you've set, dear Frodo," says the musical presence at his side, as if she has read his mind. Frodo can't remember if that's something she can properly do, but doesn't think it appropriate to ask. "I do not think I have the will to hasten through such a day as this."
Her eyes are glimmering with a gentle mirth. Frodo's come to realize, in the weeks he has spent recovering and observing his old companions outside of imminent crisis, that a favourite pastime of Lady Arwen Undomiel is teasing the newly-crowned King of Gondor.
"It's not Aragorn's fault he's got such long legs," Frodo observes. A good tease has got to be honoured, hasn't it? Arwen's responding smile is small but brilliant. Her eyes dance like daffodils in spring. They watch as their unwitting victim moves effortlessly through the crowd several -- admittedly long -- strides ahead of them, conversing animatedly with the sellers, the shoppers, their families, the children, and every so often, a horse or two. Aragorn seems to know everyone already (he's barely been king for three weeks) but that was true from the first night Frodo met him. Sam calls it a stoutly developed sense of sociability, which makes him sound like his Gaffer and Bilbo all at once, but Frodo is not sure it is all so simple.
Aragorn is now listening very intently as a cabbage seller gesticulates regarding the specifics of his innovative new watering technique.
"Do Men always take the details of cabbage-growing so seriously?" Arwen asks Frodo. She leans sideways towards him -- elegantly -- that the tactful whisper might be better heard. Frodo's not sure; he hasn't actually known that many men.
"He does seem to be selling very large cabbages," Frodo says.
A sudden, exhausting melancholy grips him. It is not precisely because of the cabbage, but not unrelated to it either. Arwen has paused to study the daisies being sold by a Gondorian girl and her mother, and so to distract himself, Frodo looks over at the nearest stall. It occurs to him that cousin Lobellia would have been awfully covetous of the coloured glass wind-chimes they have on display. They've got silver along the rims. Strange, how even now, a lifetime later it seems, Frodo is capable of suddenly remembering Bilbo's silverware related woes.
"They are very beautiful," comes Arwen's sweet, sincere voice. Frodo turns; her arms are full of the flowers, and she is moving with beaming interest towards the wind chimes. Behind her the girl's mother looks a bit dazed, while the little girl herself looks transfixed. Everything the elf says is always brimming over with an effortless sincerity, but in these resolutely human streets it becomes all the more apparent. Frodo wonders if Arwen doesn’t feel slightly out of place. "Oh -- we must put some in the courtyard garden. Dear Frodo, do you think Sam will like them? Four, please."
Unlike Aragorn, Arwen doesn't ask after families or host serious discussions about irrigation systems. She carries all of this interest and care and understanding completely unspoken in her presence alone, and when subject to it directly can be somewhat overwhelming to the uninitiated. Frodo knows this from experience. At any rate, they are leaving a series of increasingly overcome Gondorians in their wake. He wonders if she will learn or change, with time, or if there will always be that intensity and strangeness, untempered.
“Sam would suggest we make tea out of these,” says Frodo, without thinking, when Arwen hands Frodo two daisies and a wind chime to carry. The ends of her raven hair float in the breeze behind them. She’s walking very slowly, so Frodo doesn’t have any trouble keeping up, but he still looks up at her to speak. “Have you had daisy tea before, Lady Arwen?”
“Hmmm,” says Arwen cryptically. “I think I will be trying many new things, these coming weeks.”
“I don’t know if I want to try new things anymore,” Frodo says quietly, without thinking. Beside him, Arwen pauses. The hem of her soft green skirts swirl at her feet as she turns to face him. 
“Oh, Frodo,” she says. The simple words carry very many great and deep and feeling things, as is always the way with Arwen.
Frodo traces a finger over the colourful glass petals of the chime. They have arrived at a less busy patch of the cobbled alley, past the florist and trinket seller. “I think I must be homesick,” is what he decides to say.
Gently, Arwen takes his hand in hers. “Would you like to return home?” she asks. To the Shire. Sam certainly would not be opposed. Merry and Pippin, perhaps with less urgency, but they all seem to be waiting on Frodo to be recovered …
It shouldn’t be a very complicated answer. Worrying his bottom lip beneath one tooth, he looks up and over, back into the market: Aragorn is kneeling to better scratch a grinning hound under its chin, all while looking up to better ask the old woman manning its stall about her youngest grandchild.
“Don’t you feel strange, being so far from home?” he asks. Frodo feels his face grow hot. “Well … I mean, I know it is different.”
“The concept of return is not materially the same for me,” Arwen agrees, gently, with a tilt to her head. “But even so. I have chosen to stay here for a long long while, Frodo; you have no such dreams.”
Frodo’s dreams are altogether unpleasant these days, but he feels his brow quirk at the first thing. “You’ll be staying?” he asks, more curious than anything.
“Well,” says Arwen, in a secretive way that he finds terribly comforting – just as her friendship was so terribly comforting that first week, so many months ago – “I believe I am getting married sometime soon. So I must be here to attend my wedding, you see, as I’ve much desired it for many years.”
Oh. Well, that is obvious, isn’t it – now that she’s said it all out. Frodo feels a little bit silly for not guessing. 
“It’s alright,” Arwen reassures him. “It is technically yet unplanned.” 
“Is that why Aragorn asked us all to stay at the palace another month?” says Frodo, still watching the King. As if noticing eyes on him, Aragorn looks towards them, one hand occupied in caressing the soft crown of a child’s curly head. His brows furrow in askance even as his mouth grows into a wide, decidedly un-Kingly grin. He’d been sincere in his offer, Frodo remembers. Merry and Pippin claimed they were staying because of their wise contributions to the building of a nation, and Frodo hadn’t quite believed that part, but certainly, Gimli and Legolas had no need for a period of convalescence. The thought makes him tired again, but it cannot get too bad, because Arwen is looking over with him, and with another of those secretive smiles says, 
“I think he is taking great comfort in the company of his friends.”
This time the tease is barely present. Arwen speaks with a quiet, sincere fondness that carries no little amount of tender ache. Oh. Frodo swallows. One’s friends – friends, something deeper than those one is friendly with – it is true, that they bring comfort. So much. He is not sure … well, he cannot have ever … 
Abruptly, the daisies and glass feel heavy like granite in his arms. He struggles to put them down; Arwen, gracefully, notices and helps him. By the time they are done she is properly kneeling, the way Aragorn had been, just in front of him. 
“Frodo,” she says, softly. It is strange to think of her as the Queen of the realm. It is stranger still to think of Aragorn as the King, despite his easy manner in the market and obvious qualities; the last time Frodo saw him before they were separated, he was covered in dirt and had slept in the same shirt for three nights in a row. Arwen, on the other hand – he maintains that it has been true from the moment he met her: Arwen glows. Literally sometimes. Less now that she is mortal, and on a sunny day like this one it's a little hard to see, but it still lingers around her like a stubborn gauzy cloak.
"My Lady," he says suddenly, before he can stop himself, "is it very hard? Being different from your old self, now, I mean."
The birds twitter; the marketplace bustles; life moves forward on this joyful day in Minas Tirith. Arwen’s hands, wrapped still around his, are cool in a way that is soothing the distance in his heart.
“We are never given burdens we do not have the strength to carry,” Arwen says, with all of her sincerity. 
For the first time in some weeks, Frodo feels the words absorb into him, and lay a gentle blanket on the horrible well of darkness that lingers. 
“I’d be honoured to attend your wedding,” he says. 
Arwen smiles, as brilliant and gentle as the sun. It is only a few short moments that they are joined by a loping gait, and Aragorn is bending over to help Arwen to her feet and ensure Frodo is not too tired to continue.
“You are both well?” he asks, about four additional questions lingering in the back of the look he gives Arwen, but she only nods, and touches his wrist in a soft caress. 
“Quite well, my love. We were discussing your very long legs.”
“And you have told me many a time your fondness –” Aragorn catches himself just in time, which does not do much to make up for the depth of suggestion in his low, affectionate voice just a moment before. “I – ahem. Well, Frodo … I know you are not very fond of dogs, but Lady Dolmoron has a brood of kittens; I thought surely, they would appeal to your gentle sensibilities. And Master Kerrell’s stall just over there offers a delicious smoked eel stew.”
“You know,” Frodo says, “I am sure you’re right, Aragorn. Lunch sounds wonderful. And let us go visit the kittens. I’ll have to tell Sam – he’ll be sure to want to name one.”
It does not become easier, but gentler, somehow. There is a comfort in the presence of friends.
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