#yes it made me cry to listen 'the gate for a new adventure opens now' and now you know why I added that to the description :D | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

griffintail · 3 years

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The Lost Ones

Summary: Several of the SMP members find an infant in a place they didn’t expect and decide to care for them.

Pairings: Platonic! Parental! Tommy, Wilbur, Philza, Technoblade, Eret, and Dream x F! Child! Reader

Warnings! : Swearing, Village Raid, Minor Violence, Minor Deaths (Mostly mobs), mentions of blood

A/N : I’m the biggest sap for child readers. Dating back to 2014. I literally couldn’t help myself. Just so everyone knows, I suck at writing in gender neutral terms, that’s why the reader is specifically female in all of these (Including Tommy’s, Minor Spoiler, Tommy’s just an idiot and doesn’t look). So, sorry about that.

I’ll most certainly will make more of these. I won’t always have it just like this, I might write a certain character individually in a scenario. It’s all dependent on my mood. I might add more characters! This is just basically the introduction. So yeah...ENOUGH RAMBLING! Hope you enjoy :)

Tommy (Before the First Disc War)

Tommy smirked proudly to himself as he tucked his new disc safely into his inventory bag before starting the walk back to his home. His adventure was successful, he managed to get a rare disc and it was now all his. Walking through the small bit of woods, he rested his hand on his sword handle. It was still night time after all and the monsters were out to play.

As he could see the lights from the small town of the Dream SMP, he heard a cry. Looking back into the woods, he frowned before grinning.

Someone is in trouble! He’d save them and get a payment—er— “willing reward” from them. Pulling his sword, he ran over towards the sound of another cry, this time the sound being continued. He rolled his eyes, someone was crying, what a pussy. As the crying was practically on top of him, he frowned in confusion as he only found a skeleton, which was trying to shoot at a basket hanging in a tree. There was no one there to be crying.

He shrugged regardless, taking his shield off before going for the skeleton. It only managed one arrow before Tommy killed the mob. Looking at the basket, Tommy hummed before putting his weapon and shield away to climb up. As he got to a safe place to reach the basket, the crying now made sense as his eyes went wide.

“You’re a fucking baby!” He shouted in surprise.

Said infant noticed the new face and their wails quieted, but small cries still came out.

“Quiet down. You’re going to bring monsters!” He hushed, moving carefully, getting the basket off, and brought it to himself. “How the hell did you get up here? Who just leaves a baby?”

He looked down at the baby as he sat back in the tree. He couldn’t help but think how small she was, had he been that small when he was this young?

“Guess you got nowhere to go huh?” He asked as the child looked up, their cries having gone silent seeing the boy much closer.

They played with their blanket and he hummed as he held the basket close, making his way down the tree.

“You’re lucky, a big man saved you! I don’t live far, so you’ll come with me. Of course, I wouldn’t just leave you here again.” Tommy rambled, despite knowing the infant couldn’t respond back. “I’m not some kind of monster!”

He made it back to his home, putting the basket on his bed, and looked down at the baby with his hands on his hips.

“If you were left out there like that, you’re alone.” This time, the baby gave a small babble and he couldn’t help the small smile that came on his face. “Well, then I’ll take care of you! I’m a big man and can do it easy! Phil took care of my brothers and me after all and he’s old and stupid. I’m young and very wise, so I can do it. I suppose you’ll need a name now.”

If anyone had been in the room with Tommy, they’d be surprised how gentle he picked up the small human. Carefully, he held them properly, only knowing how as Phil had once shown him when they were helping a village out after a raid when he had taken the younger boy to trade.

“Hmm, I’ll call you (Y/N)!” He decided. “And I will be the greatest father ever! And I know the perfect way to celebrate today!”

Going into his bag, he grinned as he pulled out his new music disc. Putting it on the jukebox, he sat on his bed as the infant looked over at the object making the beautiful sound. His grin went into a gentle smile as he watched (Y/N) listen to the music. They’d both be happy; he’d make sure of it.

Twenty Minutes Later…

Tubbo sprinted down the stairs of his house as he heard frantic knocking on his door and the sound of crying. Swinging the door open, he let out a startled noise seeing a distressed Tommy holding a wailing baby.

Of course, he’d need some help since there was just a little bit of a learning curve.

Wilbur (Right after Declaration of War)

Times were hard. Wilbur had just started a new nation to free himself, his friends, and his family from the iron grip of Dream and his friends, but they did not like the loss of power and declared war on him. As well as the war, Fundy had become a rather rebellious teenager and Wilbur wasn’t sure how to handle all of it. He didn’t let it show to the others though. He’d be a strong leader for them.

He looked over his map of L’Manberg. They needed better defensive points…they fought with their words but Dream fought with weapons of destruction. They needed safe spaces to protect themselves…

Wilbur jumped, knocking over an ink bottle over on the table when there was pounding on the van door.

“Damn it.” He grumbled, quickly flipping the bottle back up and moved the map out of the way before going to the door.

He opened the door to see Eret standing there, making Wilbur raise an eyebrow as Eret was on guard duty at the moment but looked shocked seeing what the other man was holding.

“Hello, sir. They were just outside the gate. I didn’t see anyone else around.” Eret rapidly explained to his leader, the small infant wiggling in his hold. “I brought them here because they were cold.”

“Get inside,” Wilbur instructed, going into the back of the van again quickly.

He heard the door close as he grabbed his spare coat.

“Hand them over,” Wilbur muttered, Eret carefully transferring his hold to the other man.

Wilbur saw they had a blanket but it was thin and the child was cold to the touch. Wrapping his coat around them, he instructed Eret to light a furnace, which he did post haste.

“Hello there, love.” He whispered quietly to the infant, rocking them lightly. “We’re going to get you warmed up and something to fill your stomach, how does that sound?”

The baby didn’t fuss, too tired and cold to even thinking about making one. Wilbur stood next to the now lit furnace and looked up at Eret.

“Is anyone out there?” He asked, his proud leader voice coming out.

“No sir, I was worried about the child.”

Wilbur nodded. “I commend you for saving their life, but I have it from here. Send someone to fetch milk and then please stand guard again.”

Eret nodded before leaving the van.

Once the two were alone, Wilbur sighed heavily as he sat on the floor, still close to the furnace. He felt the child’s forehead, feeling them warm up to his relief.

“You gave us a scare little one.” He chuckled quietly. “But don’t worry, you’re in a safe place. L’Manberg will care for you. I suppose it was lucky you were left here rather than the Dream SMP.”

He hummed quietly as he gently rocking the child, their eyes closing as they relaxed in his hold. As they relaxed, he gave a quick check for their gender.

“Welcome little one. You’re the first woman of L’Manberg.” He smiled lightly.

For a short while, he was able to forget about everything outside the van. He could relax himself and let his mind clear as he watched the little girl in his arms. They were both at peace.

After a few minutes, he looked up as he heard the van door open. As he was standing up carefully, his own son Fundy came in holding a bucket.

“Hey, Eret said you needed…What the hell is that?!” Fundy exclaimed in surprise, startling the girl in his arms, tears appearing in her eyes.

“Shh, it’s alright,” Wilbur whispered to her as he rocked her again and he wiped her tears away with one hand.

Fundy cautiously came over, raising an eyebrow. “Who are they?”

Wilbur paused thinking for a moment, before smiling. “Meet your new little sister my son. (Y/N), the newest member of our great nation.”

Philza (Right before Wilbur’s Betrayal)

Phil shook out his wings as he landed in a village. He needed to rest them for a bit before continuing on his journey to L’Manberg. He had gotten word of how the tides had turned badly for his sons in the new nation they made to try and live peacefully. Originally, they hadn’t asked for his aid as Tommy and Wilbur had made contact with Techno and they believed with their older brother, they could surely turn it back. Yet, Tommy had sent him a letter with worry for Wilbur’s state of mind and Phil decided he needed to be there for his sons.

Yes, he wanted them to learn the world on their own but there were some times when Phil needed to be there to help them.

Looking at the sky, the night was fast approaching so he managed to get a house in the village for the night. Keeping his sword by his bedside, he went to sleep for the night…

Startling awake, Phil heard the sounds of the village bell.

“God damn it,” Phil mumbled, scooping his sword and bag before putting his hat on his head.

Running out, he saw the cause of the panicked ringing. A pillager raid, and it was already out of control. Fires were crackling madly and blood littered the paths.

“Shit.” He swore as a pillager spotted him and he dodged the arrow before running them through with his sword.

The few surviving villagers ran from their homes and Phil went to follow when he heard a wail, the wail of a child. His throat tightened as he looked back to the burning buildings, his fatherly instinct along with his good nature kicked in.

“God…” He muttered before spreading his wings.

With ease, he was able to dodge between pillagers and ravagers alike as he followed the sound. Landing at the house that was most certainly ablaze, Phil kicked in the door. Holding his arm to his mouth and nose, he rushed in and found a small nursery, the flames engulfing the walls and ceiling. Rushing to the crib, he found the small child and quickly picked them up.

“Let’s go kiddo.” He said as he rushed back out.

Once he was outside, he took flight again and flew high enough to be out of arrow range, and flew far from the village. As he did, he looked the small child, of which he found out was female, over for injures as she screamed and cried. She had no visible injuries but Phil knew she had to have inhaled smoke. So, after a handful of minutes flying, he landed and shushed her quietly.

“It’s alright kiddo, hang on,” Phil told her quietly as he went into his bag taking out a health potion. “I got something that can help you.”

Being gentle, he gave them a few drops of the potion to hopefully clear out any smoke and heal the damage it might have done. The little girl gave hiccups and small cries.

“It’s alright. You’re safe now.” He bounced her lightly, slowing down her cries to nothing. “There we go. We’re ok. Once morning comes, we’ll find the others of the rest of your village and see if we can’t find your parents.”

The little girl’s eyes merely drooped and he gave smile before he frowned as he looked up to see the fires in the distance. They were a human child and he didn’t remember seeing any humans running away with the survivors but he’d try. And if not…

“Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of you,” Phil assured the now sleeping infant.

Technoblade (Start of Retirement)

Techno shouldered the bag of wood he had gathered over his shoulder, his axe on his belt as he made his way home through the snow. The voices were relatively calm, not hungry for blood at the moment, and Techno was able to have a peaceful moment. As he trudged closer to his house, he slowed to a stop seeing footprints by the stairs and the voices kicked up as his thoughts went wild.

Phil always gave him notice on his walkie if he was on the way and whoever had been there had gone up the stairs then walked away in a different direction from where they came.

The voices were bringing up the question of if he was being scouted out. Who could have found his house? How did they find it? They started to demand blood.

Technoblade took his axe off his belt while putting down the bag of wood. Going towards the porch carefully, he held it ready to expect the worse when he entered his house but he didn’t even go up the stairs to find something. On his doorstep, there sat a large huddle of blankets.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he came up to the huddle carefully and slowly with his axe raised. Stopping when it was fully in view, he stared in even more confusion.

“What the hell?” He questioned, lowering his axe slightly as he looked around the snowy tundra. “Who leaves a child on my doorstep!”

In the middle of the huddle of blankets was a sleeping child, who wiggled slightly at the loudness of his voice.

They’re an orphan now

You know how you feel about orphans

Blood for the Blood God

Techno winced at the sounds of the voices as he looked at the child. They were right…they were an orphan now. Someone had left them on his doorstep and now they were abandoned. He gripped his axe tightly as he looked down at the infant.

It’d be quick and easy…

The small human opened their eyes slightly, squirming slightly as they saw him. Techno’s grip loosened, the voices screaming in protest. They were so small and so defenseless…he wasn’t calling for blood anymore.

Grunting, he put the axe away, going back down the stairs to grab the bag as he clenched his jaw at the loud noises of the voices before going back and picking up the child with surprising gentleness as the child was startled slightly. He shouldered his door open, dropping the bag of wood next to the unlit fireplace before making his way upstairs to his bedroom. He put the child down, who watched him in silent curiosity as Techno took the walkie off his belt.

“Phil, you there?” He questioned into it.

It took a minute but the device crackled.

“Yeah, what’s going on?”

“I got a…issue. Come over as soon as you can.”

“An issue? What kind of issue?” Phil asked in surprise as usually, Technoblade could handle most of his issues.

“It’s hard to explain, just come over.” Techno rubbed his temple at the screams of the voices.

“Alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He put the walkie down as he looked over at the child watching him.

“What?” He huffed.

Then the child gave a small giggle, trying to get their hands free to hold them out to him. The man stood there in shock as his heart melted. He had not felt something like that in a long time. Scrunching up his nose slightly before coming over and taking the infant out of the blankets and holding her as he used to with Tommy.

“What the hell am I going to do with you?” He muttered and the small human held lightly onto his shirt, making even the voices slow down.

He down a level in his home to wait for Phil, keeping the child in his hold as he just decided to do his normal routine. He started a fire and began to brew a few potions when the knock came on his door.

“Come in.” He called.

In stepped his father, who immediately dropped his bag in surprise seeing what Techno was holding as he added a new ingredient to his potion.

“Hello.” He greeted the older man without looking at him.

“What the hell did you have?” The older man questioned.

Techno looked over at him confused. “Blaze powder.”

Phil took his hat off as he ran a hand through his hair. “I meant the baby!”

“Oh! Yeah, this.” Techno said casually, the older man freaking out. “Someone left them on my porch.”

“Oh god…are they ok?” Phil asked, coming over.

“Yeah, they’re fine. They were swallowed by blankets.”

The child tried to take a bottle in their hands and Techno simply moved it from them and kept working like it was the most natural thing in the world. Phil stood in surprise at how casual Techno was, he knew about the orphan thing and how vicious the voices in his head could be.

“What…what are you going to do with the child?”

“That’s why I called you,” Techno said, before holding the child to the man. “You take it.”

“What?! Techno, I can’t just take this child. I…” Phil’s hand shook slightly at the thought of Wilbur. “I can’t have another child right now. And L’Manberg will question where I even got them in the first place.”

“Well then what do I do with it?!” Techno huffed as he was surprised by the quietness of the voices.

“Well…you could take of them.”

“I don’t know how to take care of a child. I don’t even like children, have you seen me with Tommy?” Techno rolled his eyes.

“You seem to like this one.” Phil pointed out as Techno was holding them willingly and at the gentleness, he had with them.

Techno frowned as he tried to think of a good reason. “That’s because they’re quiet.”

“Look…I know you don’t want to hear this but maybe you should look after them, even just for a while. I can see if I can find someone who wants a child.”

No, you found them.

They’re rather cute…

Keep them!

The voices had done a full turn around from when they first saw the child. They were demanding Techno care for them and protect the fragile being. Techno couldn’t disagree with them because in his heart…he wanted to protect the child that had been left on his doorstep.

“Fine, I’ll take care of them for a while but you need to help me, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Phil chuckled. “Of course, son. We should look them over first to make sure they’re alright.”

Techno rolled his eyes but agreed, listening to Phil as he told him what to do. The father was smiling proudly as even though Techno was frustrated with the new task, he continued with it. Once she, as they discovered, was checked over, Phil put a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“What do you want to call her?” Phil asked.

He looked down at the child, who was giggling as Phil smiled at her.

“Blood Child.”

“Techno!”

Later, Techno actually decided on (Y/N) and for once, the voices were on his side.

Eret (Before the founding of L’Manberg)

Eret chuckled to himself as he walked down the path back towards his castle. Tommy’s antics for the day had been particularly ridiculous that it still brought a chuckle to the older gentleman as he went back to his home. He knew the days around the Dream SMP certainly wouldn’t be boring.

Walking to his castle, he stopped as he noticed a basket left in front of the door and peered inside.

“Why hello there.” Eret smiled seeing a small face peering back up at him as they squirmed slightly in discomfort. “What are you doing here little one?”

He carefully picked up the basket and went inside his castle. As he got to his bedroom, he carefully took the infant out struggling a bit but managed before searching a bit in the basket.

“Hmm, no note or anything.” He muttered as he looked at the child squirming around. “Well, someone made a mistake leaving you behind. Let’s see if I can’t figure out what’s making you so fussy.”

After a bit of trying, first checking to see if she needed a diaper, he figured she needed some food and managed to get milk, putting it in a clean potion bottle to help her drink it easier. That also took a few trials, but he managed to help her drink until she stopped fussing.

“There we go, now I can see your lovely face better.” He smiled as he sat on his bed, wiggling his finger in front of her making her giggle.

As he played with the small girl, he frowned slightly as he looked over the basket that she had been left in. Why would someone leave someone so precious on the doorstep of his castle? It was truly a shame for those that did leave the little girl as Eret couldn’t help but slowly smile again as the little girl grasped onto his finger.

“You’re not going to have to worry little one. You can stay here with me and you can be the princess of this castle.” He promised her, hugging her lightly, making her giggle. “I’ll make sure you’re safe and happy. It will take me a little while to learn how to do it all properly but I’ll learn. How does that sound…(Y/N)?”

He chuckled as he moved his head back as she reached for her glasses. Yeah, this sounded like a beautiful idea.

Dream (The Very Start)

Dream rolled his eyes behind his mask as he heard George screaming in the distance, Sapnap laughing wildly in return. Those two never know how to stop.

“Come on you two! We need to build a house before the night comes.” Dream called to them. “Stop goofing off.”

Yet, he could still hear George’s high-pitched scream and he just chuckled and shook his head at his friends’ behavior. They were the company he kept and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for anything.

Eventually, they did stop screwing and they were able to get to work on building their first home of the new land they had. The three of them joked and there was some arguing still between Sapnap and George but it just made it peaceful for the three of them. It was how their lives were.

Dream went to go look for some sheep to get wool for beds before night fully struck, leaving the two “children” at the house. As he went searching, he jumped when he heard the sound of screaming, but it wasn’t liking George’s scream. It was quieter but still a scream.

“Hello?!” Dream called as he pulled out his stone sword.

As he went towards the noise, he realized it wasn’t a scream of terror as he first thought it was. No, it was a screaming cry, the kind a child would make. He started sprinting at that thought and skidded to a stop as he found the infant that was making the sound laid on top of a rock, a group of three zombies trying to get it.

Dream gripped onto his sword before shouting to get their attention and moved back, quickly taking care of the mobs. He pushed his smiley mask to the side of his face as he finished them off and rushed over to the baby.

“Hey! Hey. It’s ok now.” He told them as he climbed up next to them, dropping his sword at the bottom. “All the bad things are gone.”

He gently picked up the baby, shushing them as he put a hand on top of their head. Slowly, they quieted down and Dream smiled wiping their tears away.

“Hey, there you go. See? There’s nothing to cry about.” He chuckled before screwing his face up to look funny.

The child giggled and he grinned.

“There we go. Now, let’s check you out.” He muttered, looking them over. “No injuries. That’s very good princess. Now, what are you doing out here?” He asked as he looked around, seeing no signs of human life other than the two of them.

Dream’s blood boiled slightly. Someone would just leave a child out here? If it wasn’t for him, she would have died!

“You got nowhere to go huh? Well, you don’t have to worry.” He said, carefully sliding down.

He picked up his sword, putting it back in its sheath, before walking back towards his friends.

“I’ll take care of you. You’ll be the princess of our new land! You, me, and your two idiot uncles.” He laughed, the tiny girl giggling at the sound. “And I’ll make sure you always have a reason to smile.”

#mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dreamsmp #tommyinnit x reader #wilbur soot x reader #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #eret x reader #dream x reader

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

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Amoreena | chapter thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: fluff like unbelievably fluffy!

word count: 6.1

here's the playlist for the fic, the last song in the playlist if looped will lead right into Amoreena at the beginning and it works pretty well timing-wise if you like to listen while you read !!

from the beginning <3

All their bags were packed by Friday morning, Y/N and Amoreena waking up extra early with excitement for the weekend ahead of them, and they didn’t even know what was going to happen yet.

Y/N made sure everything was packed and ready for a 3rd time on Saturday morning, right before they left on the trip; making sure they had sunscreen and aloe vera, all her medicine and ginger ale by the pack for her random bouts of morning sickness that lasted all, day, long... And their dresses and his suit hanging behind the driver's seat, beside Amoreena, they all piled into Y/N’s car and took off down the road on their adventure.

Amoreena was awake for the first half of the 9-hour trip, singing like crazy as they drove through Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia and New York, it was so amazing she couldn’t stop cheering the whole time. It was more than she’s ever seen before, even though they lived so close to New York, she’s never been through it before.

Once they arrived in Rhode Island, Spencer pulled over at the closest gas station to make sure the girls were all prepared and ready for the big surprise he had for them. They filled the car, used the restroom and bought some lemonade before getting back into the car, he turned in the driver's seat to see Amoreena and Y/N better, looking at their wide eyes memorizing the calmness in their faces before he told them.

He didn’t want them to freak out too much, he was worried about Y/N’s blood pressure and how loud she might scream and any stress that a situation like this could put on her body. He’s seen how people react to Taylor Swift, he just didn’t know how they would.

“Now, I'm only telling you so you don't freak out," he repeated the same worry she had when she broke the news of the baby, "I didn’t have to rent a place on the water because my friend lives up here, so we’re going to stay in her guest house,” he explained it simply.

“Rossi's wife?” Y/N asked, confused about who it could be and if she knew this woman yet.

“No, actually I think you might know her, her name is Taylor?”

“No,” she shakes her head furiously, “no, nope, there's no way you did this, Spencer Walter Reid I am not kidding I’m going to pass away if I see her.” She's holding both her hands in fists as she tries to stay calm, closing her eyes quickly before letting out a deep sigh.

“Taylor who?” Amoreena yells, undoing her seatbelt and standing between their seats, she almost jumps into his lap as she leans over and grabs a fistful of his shirt, “Taylor WHO?”

“Go get in your seat and I’ll show you,” he teases, watching her follow orders and get back in the seat as quickly as possible, shouting at him to drive the second he hears the seatbelt click again.

Y/N is completely speechless for the next 20 minutes of the drive, eyes wide and a hand on her stomach as she stares out the front window. She’s like a statue, not able to hear anything Amoreena is saying but that doesn't stop her from going on and on with her stories.

“Mom!” She’s finally able to break her out of the haze, “pass me your phone!”

“Yeah,” she doesn’t even question it, handing her the phone back to the antsy 7-year-old so she could continue her internal panic.

They see her house on the hill as they approach, “holy shit,” Y/N whispers as Amoreena turns on the last great American dynasty, knowing exactly where they were going.

Taylor asked for his licence plate number and car model when they were emailing, letting her gate guy know to let Spencer right in so he could keep it a secret. But they knew the house, there was no point in not telling them. Y/N looked a little relieved that he gave her the time to freak out alone and not as soon as they crested the hill.

Her driveway felt never-ending as they got closer and closer, Amoreena was still in disbelief as she squealed in the back seat, hands flailing as she tried to calm the excitement inside her body with her favourite stim.

Then Taylor walked out into the front yard and Y/N was a mess. Crying as she waved her hand in front of her face, not wanting to be a mess in front of Taylor fucking Swift, “I told you nothing crazy! How did you do this?”

“Yes, but I said 'define crazy’ and you didn’t,” he reminds her with a cheeky smile.

She shoves him, “I didn’t think you could do this?!”

Once they’re parked the door automatically unlocked, and as much as spencer hated that non-safety feature, he's glad Amoreena can get out quickly before she's screaming bloody murder. Amoreena is out the door and in Taylor’s arms faster than they’ve ever seen her move, she should be a track star. It almost knocks Taylor to the ground as she takes her in, holding the sweet little girl against her chest with the biggest smile on her face. Amoreena snuggles right into her, with a hand on her cheek and her other arm wrapped behind her neck. She couldn't be any closer to her, it was like she was her favourite relative who she hasn't seen in a while.

Amoreena is talking her ear off already by the time Spencer’s helping Y/N out of the car and walking her to Taylor, she’s holding his hand like she’s going to pass out or something, “and this is my mom Y/N and my dad Spencer but somehow you know him already,” Amoreena introduces her.

“Hi, Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you, Spencer's told me a lot about you.” Taylor’s sweet voice saying her name alone makes her stutter out a bunch of nonsense, not to mention the fact Spencer's been talking to Taylor fucking Swift about her.

Amoreena moves out of the way for Taylor to wrap her up in a hug, and Y/N cries harder than he’s ever seen on her shoulder, “thank you,” is all she can say, it’s frightening to Amoreena at first to see her mom cry like that but she knows her mom just loves Taylor like family.

What she doesn’t know is just how much Taylor saved her life. If she didn’t have someone to listen to, someone to take the pain and replace it with hope, she wouldn’t be here and by default neither would Amoreena. Spencer owed everything to Taylor swift at this point, she was a blessing in his life that he took for granted. Not realizing until that moment just how much she meant to him as well now.

“Sorry,” Y/N finally says as she pulls off her, “I’m pregnant, I can’t help it.”

Taylor’s hands fly right to her stomach, “holy crap, you never told me that she’s pregnant in your emails, oh my god!” She’s genuinely so happy for them, “how far along are you?”

“6 weeks on Sunday,” she smiles, feeling like herself again even though it’s incredibly strange to be telling Taylor before her parents even knew. “No one really knows, it’s all very new but when you know, you know… y’know?”

For a woman with an English language degree, she sure knew how to make a sentence, all of them laughing at the words she chose, but they understood.

“We should have used paper rings!” Amoreena yells, holding her hand over her eyes in disbelief as she shares her head with a sigh, she couldn’t believe she forgot that song existed.

It made Taylor laugh, scooping the little one up in her arms and starting the walk inside.

“Well come on in, I’ve got a big lunch spread ready for us and then we can go to the beach for the ceremony whenever you want this weekend, does that sound good?” Taylor is beyond excited to make new friends, much like Amoreena, they got along famously.

“Where are the cats? Do they live here or in LA or Nashville?” Amoreena changed the topic in the form of a yes and proving just how much she knew about Taylor.

“They’re here, Olivia and Benjamin will probably find us soon, Meredith isn’t very open to new friends now that she’s an old lady,” Taylor explained as she set Amoreena down in the entryway, bending down to be at her level and pointing off into the living room, “oh, see, there one is!”

Amoreena saw one of them laying on the floor under a sunny spot, running to it and petting it gently, “hi Benjamin, I loved you in the ME video,” she whispers as she pets him, making Taylor swoon.

“She’s amazing,” Taylor swooned, “I can’t wait to have one.”

“You should!” Y/N agreed, reaching to take Taylor's hand on impulse, and Taylor held it back with a smile, “oh that would be so wonderful, I can just imagine the beautiful stories you’ll create when you discover what it’s like to love someone how your mom loves you.”

Taylor’s smile was priceless, "that's the best way to think about it," she beamed at Y/N the way Spencer did, she had that effect on people. They followed her into the dining room, taking a seat near each other and digging into all the food Taylor made for them.

“Ah,” Amoreena said as she finally joined them, sitting on her knees on Taylors nice antique chairs. “Shark coochie,” she whispers the words to herself, not able to stop her mind from repeating it, but still not wanting Taylor to hear it in case it was inappropriate. She was incredibly well-mannered for someone who had a hard time reading social queues.

“It’s a hard word to say,” Taylor agreed, making her feel less awkward. Spencer may have told her about her autism in advance, wanting his little girl to be respected by everyone she met, for who she truly was, “my mom called it a coochie spread once, actually, she's going to be over tomorrow for father's day.”

"Yes! Oh, I love Andrea," Amoreena laughed at how cool this day was, smiling at Taylor the way she smiled at him that first morning at breakfast like she just found yet another person to love. “You’re so wonderful, Taylor.”

“Oh, thank you, you're pretty enchanting yourself,” she smiles, “I take it you’ve known about me for your whole life?”

“Yep,” she smiled, reaching for a chocolate-covered strawberry and taking a huge bite, covering her mouth before she continued, “I was born a month after Red came out, November thirteenth, it really is a lucky number now, mom says so at least.”

“It is!” Taylor agreed with a smile, “I have some markers, do you want to wear matching 13’s today?”

“Mom, can I colour on my hand?” She turns so fast Spencer thinks she’ll get whiplash.

“Yeah, go for it!” She agrees, spreading cream cheese on a croissant and layering tomatoes on top, definitely pregnant.

So Taylor gets a marker and both their left hands now have matching numbers. Amoreena asks to take a million photos, eventually just taking Y/N’s phone from her, permanently, to take photos of all her favourite things around the house.

She runs off with the cats at a certain point, giving Y/N a chance to thank Taylor without tiny ears listening in. “Can I get really emotional and tell you how much you mean to me or is that too weird for our first chat?”

“Not weird at all, knowing you’ve used my music to raise that beautiful child makes me love you just as much, I’d love to hear why you picked me, of all musicians, to show her how to love,” Taylor replies, as regal and kindly as humanly possible.

“My first fiancé, Stephen, he was actually like an angel and our first kiss was quite literally in the rain, but he passed away in 2010,” she explained it with a smile so Taylor knew it wasn’t a touchy subject anymore, “I bonded with Fearless in a way I can’t even describe to you, it’s my life, he was my superstar, and white horse, I mean come on, I can’t tell you how many times I cried to that after he died but it helped me not feel alone. I wouldn’t be who I am without Fearless, and then Speak Now was there for me when I needed a good cry, Last Kiss really broke me but it wasn’t until Lover came out that I realized I could find someone again, and it’s always just like you released things as I needed them like you were helping me through all the bad things,” she’s never even told Spencer all this, it was special to him that he got to give her this moment.

“When you re-released it with the vault songs, I met Spencer literally a month later. I cried my eyes out to you all over me, but That’s When makes me think of Spencer and now the whole album has a new memory in my heart that’s better. It's just like why you re-released it, to replace the bad things that happened that took all the happiness out of something you cared so much about." Y/N took a second to breathe, shaky as she got to the end of her rant that she seemed to have prepared in the 20 minutes before she had to talk to her.

"I love you, honestly. You’re my best friend and you didn’t even know me then, but you’ve held my hand through it all, so thank you,” she cried a little, holding her belly with one hand as she tried to hold the tears in.

Taylor was out of her chair and in Y/N’s arms within seconds, crying into her arms as she held her. She rubbed Y/N’s back as she cried too, “I’m so sorry that happened, but I’m glad I could be there.”

“Do you want to be this baby's godmother?” She asks on impulse without even asking Spencer if he’s okay with it, he was, it made him laugh.

“Eleonora Taylor Reid,” Spencer says from across the table, making them both turn to him with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N agrees fast, “that's the name if it’s a girl, if it’s a boy he can be Taylor as well?”

“Holy shit,” Taylor smiled wide, “yes, I want to come to visit the farm and buy them baby gifts and throw you a baby shower! I inadvertently helped make them so it’s only fair.”

“Hopefully she gets your voice too, Y/N,” Spencer adds and Y/N shoots him a panicked glance, “it’s the Taylor legacy to be a good singer.”

“You can sing?” The question Y/N feared coming past Taylor's lovely vocal cords, almost on queue.

Y/N can't help but glare at spencer, he had too many tricks up his sleeve and she was at her limit.

“Yes,” Y/N finally answers, “I was going to go to theatre school, but I switched to become a Librarian, I’m not good with crowds or competition and that's basically what the industry depends on. I like the quiet, telling stories on paper is just as easy as singing it to a crowd.”

“That's fair,” Taylor agreed, “would you and Amoreena like to sing some song with me? I have my guitar or the piano? I’m not used to having new friends over without sharing at least 1 song with them. I’m sure you’ve seen my listening parties?” She was really trying to convince her to sing, Spencer knew why and what she had planned.

Amoreena came running in then, “I can play piano too, can we do the long live new year's day from the tour movie?” She rests her hands on Taylor's arm, looking up at her with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Of course, come on,” she says taking Amoreena’s hand and rushing into the piano room. “Here, we’ll record it too,” she offered, setting her phone up on the music stand to capture the moment forever.

They sat side by side on the bench, Amoreena showing her how she could play the opening perfectly and surprising Spencer. He knew they had a piano at home, he’s just never seen her play it before.

“She has perfect pitch,” Y/N bragged, “she can play a song after hearing it once.”

“Really?” Spencer had no idea, unbelievably proud of her as he listened to her play.

She’s quietly playing the intro to Long Live as Taylor watches, joining in with the harmony of New Year's Day, “this one reminds me of my mom and dad.”

“Does it?” Taylor coo’s, smiling at her softly as Y/N tries not to cry beside Spencer.

“They’re the knight and the princess of our kingdom,” she explained before the two of them started singing the words together, like they always have, only Taylor was beside her and not just on the TV.

“I said remember this moment, in the back of my mind, the time we stood with our shaking hands, the crowds in the stands went wild,” Amoreena’s tiny voice lead-in, fearlessly as she played away.

“We were the Kings and the Queens, and they read off our names, the night you danced like you knew our lives would never be the same... You held your head like a hero, on a history book page... It was the end of a decade, but the start of an age,” Spencer couldn’t help but cry as she sang with Taylor.

This was on the concert movie, he showed her after school, this song came on and she was silent, listening to the words as she stared at him and then back at the TV. Her mind was connecting little dots, making a story about her mom and dad being the king and the queen, it all made sense now.

“Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you, I was screaming long live, all the magic we made and bring on all the pretenders, I’m not afraid,

Long live all the mountains we moved, I had the time of my life, fighting dragons with you, I was screaming long live, that look on your face, and bring on all the pretenders, one day, we will be remembered,”

Their fingers moved in sync on the keys as they harmonized almost perfectly, she wasn’t kidding about Amoreena having perfect pitch. She knew all the words and sang them almost louder than Taylor.

“And hold on to spinning around, confetti, falls to the ground. May these memories break our fall…”

The piano changes, the cords softer as they move into a new song, smiling at her mom and dad like she knew something. She had no idea what happened the night of the fake wedding, just that they had a party without her.

“And hold on… To spinning around… Confetti… Falls to the ground…”

Spencer wraps his arms around Y/N then, resting his chin on her shoulder as they sway to the tune, she’s barely whispering the words beside him as she smiles as her baby.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor, you and me from the night before, but… Don’t read the last page, but I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared and you're turning away. I want, your midnights, I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

Y/N’s hands rest on top of Spencer’s, she squeezes them three times, right before the next lyric.

“You squeeze my hand three times in the back of the taxi, I can tell that it's gonna be a long road. I’ll be there if you're the toast of the town, babe, or if you strike out and you're crawling home,

Don't read the last page, but I stay, when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes. I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on, to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the two of them chanting along with Taylor in beautiful harmony, Spencer felt like he was in heaven among the angels, but for real this time. “And I will hold on to you…”

The piano is so soft, it’s just Amoreena’s fingers hitting them as Taylor goes silent, letting her take the lead with a soft smile, “Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere. Please don't ever become a stranger whose laugh, I, could recognize anywhere.”

They stop for just a moment for Amoreena to smile up at Taylor, just like the break in the concert, “I really do love you,” she reminds them all before playing again.

“We love you, too, sweet girl,” Taylor replies for them using the same nickname for her because it was the truth. She was the sweetest girl, that Amoreena.

“There's glitter on the floor after the party, girls carrying their shoes down in the lobby, candle wax and Polaroids on the hardwood floor. You and me forevermore, don't read the last page, but I stay when it’s hard or it’s wrong or we’re making mistakes and I want, your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day,”

“Hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you,” the girls all chant together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm before taking different parts in the song like they’ve planned it before.

“And Long live,” Taylor takes the one song, while Amoreena takes the other.

Please don't ever become a stranger…

The walls we crashed through..

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…

I had the time of my life

Please don't ever become a stranger…

With you…

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere…"

Amoreena plays the rest, smiling wide at the best day of her life. Meaning every single word she’s saying. “And Long live, the walls we crashed through. I had the time of my life… With you…” Amoreena ends with a few extra notes, making Taylor smile as she held her in a side hug.

She turns back to the piano then, starting to play Amoreena by Elton John. “No way..” Y/N gasps, before getting ready to sing along with all the confidence in the world, alongside Taylor Swift of all people.

“It’s just that; Lately, I've been thinking, how much I miss my lady, Amoreena's in the hayfield, brightening the daybreak,” Taylor changes some of the words, much to Y/N surprise.

“Livin’ like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child! And when it rains, the rain falls down… washing out the cattle town… and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown… And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean… Laughing, fit to burst, upon each other…”

Y/N turns to Spencer then, singing to him softly as she wraps her arms around him and sways her hips to the song, pressing against him like they were in the movie Dirty Dancing, something she’s always wanted to do, clearly, with the smile on her face as she sings.

“I can see you sittin’, eatin’, apples in the evenin’. Fruit juice, flowing slowly, slowly, slowly down the bronze of your body. Livin’, like a lusty flower, runnin’ through the grass for hours, rollin’ through the hay, oooh, like a puppy child.”

Amoreena’s voice was the loudest in the chorus, this was her song after all. She belted it out like it was made for her.

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! And she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by! When we would lean, laughing, fit to burst upon each other…”

Spencer knew the words as well, who didn’t? It was Elton John's best song. He hugged Y/N, snuggling into the crook of her neck as they twirled in Taylor Swift's living room, swaying with her, forgetting they weren’t alone for a moment.

“Oh, if only I could nestle, in the cradle of your cabin. My arm's around your shoulder, oh… The window wide and open, while the swallow and the sycamore, whoa! Are playing in the valley. Oh, I miss you, Amoreena, like the king bee misses honey!”

“And when it rains, the rain falls down! Washing out the cattle town! and she's far away somewhere… in her eiderdown! And she dreams of crystal streams, of days gone by when we would lean! Laughing, fit to burst upon each other, oooh!”

Amoreena and Taylor playing the iconic piano solo together, Y/N can’t help but move in closer to watch over her little girls shoulders.

“Lately, I've been thinking… How much I miss my lady… Amoreena's in a cornfield, brightening the daybreak. Livin’, like a lusty flower! Runnin; through the grass for hours! Rollin’ through the hay, woah! Like a puppy, like a puppy, child…” Y/N’s voice loud enough to be on the recording Taylor was making as the song ended.

Taylor stopped it then, just as Y/N swore, “holy shit, that was the coolest thing that’s ever happened in my whole life.”

“Mom,” Amoreena looked at her like she broke the law or something, “you don’t swear in front of her…” she mumbled.

Taylor laughed, wrapping her up in another hug, “have you heard champagne problems? It’s okay for big kids to swear here,” she teased her.

They laughed like they were family like they’ve been there before and were always meant to return. Something just clicked with them, and without a doubt, they’d be returning. Taylor Swift of all people slipped right into their little life, filling the shoes of big sister, best friend and coolest aunt in the world all in one day.

It was the most perfect afternoon.

—

Just before the sunset, they all changed into their wedding attire. Meeting out on the beach for their small, extremely intimate wedding ceremony with miss Taylor Swift. Getting it out of the way so they could have the whole weekend for whatever Taylor had planned for them. She said she had a few surprises up her sleeve still.

They filled out all the paperwork required on Taylor's kitchen table beforehand, she had all the right documents from when she registered to ordain online. All they had to do was submit it at town hall and they’d be legally married.

But it didn’t matter to them, this was enough.

Taylor and Amoreena stood side by side at a homemade arch on the beachfront that Taylor owned, waiting patiently for Spencer and Y/N to walk down the fake aisle, hand in hand. They couldn’t stop smiling as they saw Amoreena at the end, a big smile on her face as she bounced with excitement.

They reached the end, turning to each other, Amoreena took Y/N’s bouquet, it was her duty as maid of honour and best man.

“Spencer and I have been emailing for 2 weeks about today, he’s been filling me in little by little about you both as he got to know you, I’ve really gotten to see his love for you in the form of letters,” Taylor described with a large smile on her face.

Y/N looks at him with an open mouth, shocked as she shakes her head in disbelief at him. “You’re kidding, is she who emailed you when we had lunch 2 weeks ago?”

Spencer nodded with another cheeky smile, “she emailed me as you told me not to plan anything too crazy.”

Y/N just laughed at the insanity, “sorry Taylor, please continue.”

“It’s okay,” she laughed along, “it’s actually kind of interesting how Amoreena picked long live and New Year’s Day to sing because from what I’ve learned about you both, the intermission poem from that tour really was written for you, somehow. Almost like by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance…”

Y/n’s eyed do that thing they always do when she’s remembering something she’s heard before, finding the exact filing cabinet in her mind and opening it. She finds the words.

“When she fell, she fell apart. Cracked her bones on the pavement she once decorated as a child with sidewalk chalk,” she starts the poem with a small nod, letting Taylor continue the monologue in the form of vows.

“When’s she crashed, her clothes disintegrated. And blew away with the winds that took all of her fair-weather friends, family and lovers. When she looked around her skin was spattered with ink. Forming the words of a thousand voices, echoes she heard even in her sleep: whatever you say, it is not right. Whatever you do, it is not enough. Your kindness is fake. Your pain is manipulative.”

Y/N hasn’t watched the concert recently, unlike Spencer. She didn’t realize how much it sounded like them. Spencer, however, spotted the coincidences the second he heard it that night with Amoreena. Telling Taylor, explaining in detail how Maeve and Stephen were their personal last kiss storylines, but they’ve found a lover in each other. Cheesy, but it was the best way he could describe it.

“When she lay there on the ground she dreamed of time machines and revenge. And a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.”

She turned her attention to Spencer, replacing the pronouns to fit him for the next part, Y/N looked at him already knowing why, smiling as she made the connection in her mind.

“When he finally rose, he rose slowly. Avoiding old haunts and sidestepping shiny pennies. Wary of phone calls and promises, charmers, dandies and get-love-quick-schemes.

When he stood, he stood with a desolate knowingness, waded out into the dark wild oceans up to his neck. Bathed in his brokenness. Said a prayer of gratitude, for each chink in the armour he never knew he needed.

Standing broad-shouldered next to him, was a love that was really something. Not just the idea of something.

When they turned to go home, they heard echoes of new words: may your heart remain breakable but never by the same hand twice. And even louder: without your past, you could never have arrived so wondrously and brutally, by design or some violent, exquisite happenstance… here.”

“What she said,” Y/N says with a quick giggle, leaning in as she laughs, taking him down in a giggle fit with her.

Amoreena’s lightly tugging on Taylor’s dress then, “you have to say it, please you can’t not say it, I had this planned out before I even knew you’d beee here…” she whispers like Taylor has any clue what she’s talking about.

Y/N just starts to shake her head with a smile, “I think she means the speak now bridge,” she reminds her.

“Ahh,” she smiles, picking Amoreena up to be at eye level with them all, she sings. “I hear the preacher say speak now or forever hold, your, pee-E-eeace,” she sings it exactly like it is on the album, almost as if she’s been practicing to release it again…

“There’s the silence there’s my last chance, I stand up with shaking hands all eyes, on me,” Amoreena lightly signs right back. “Horrified looks from everyone in the room but I’m only looking at you!”

Spencer laughs then too, smiling at his little girl living out the fantasy of a lifetime, seeing her mom dressed like a princess and marrying the broken knight with rusty armour, while Taylor Swift of all people holds her. Nothing about the life they had together felt real, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“I think it’s only fair if I get a say in who marries my mom because I’ve known her the longest,” she adds, “and I’m not the kind of girl who should be rudely barging in on this white veil occasion, but you happen to be the best dad in the whole world, so I think it’s cool that you love my mom.”

Y/N lets out a choked sob, she clearly had no idea that Amoreena was planning to say all that, but of course, she was. She knew all about every single Disney princess wedding, every fairytale ending and happily ever after, Taylor has helped her learn about love and vows and true feelings that cannot be stopped.

She knew what to say and she meant every word.

Spencer reaches out to take Amoreena from Taylor, holding her in his arms instead as Y/N snuggled in close to them, both his girls in his arms.

“I think it’s only fair I give some vows to you as well, I’m committing my whole life to this family, you should know how much that means I love you, too, Amoreena.” She snuggles in closer to his neck as she holds him back, Y/N’s head resting on his other shoulder.

“Till the day I die, I am going to be here for you: with unconditional love, with the best stories and the best morning cuddles. I don’t care if you pull me out of bed at 5 in the morning to feed the goats, or the chickens or just because you think the sun looks pretty and want me to see it too. I love you Amoreena, you’ve completed my life."

"Do you remember that day you asked me to be your dad?” his voice is so soft as he bumps her cheek with his nose.

She wipes her tears as she pulls away from his shoulder, overly emotional at the events of the day and extremely tired from the excitement she let out earlier. She nods softly, “I meant it.”

“I know honey,” he can’t help but start to cry a little as well, dropping his manly facade and being real with her. She deserved to see exactly what she meant to him, “I watched you pouring glitter glue all over that table, making the biggest mess ever, but it made me think… I had a hole in my heart for so many years, there was a part of me missing for so, so, so long, and then I found a little Eden by beautiful little kingdom, and the fairest lady in all the land took me in, and she patched up my broken heart with glitter glue.”

Amoreena tried to smile the tears away, sniffling as she tried to nod, “that's how I felt when you told me I could pick you to be my dad.”

Y/N was a sobbing mess, having to crouch down to her knees as she let it all out, steadying herself by holding onto Spencer’s leg like a child would at that height, “is she okay?” Amoreena worried.

“Your mom loves us so much, and the baby does too, so it’s making her a bit more emotional than normal,” he explains, wishing he could scoop Y/N up and hold her as well.

She wipes the tears from her face as she calms herself down and stands back up with help from Taylor, “thank you,” she manages to whisper to her with a smile.

She’s also been crying, watching the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. A family built on true love coming together, using her songs to form a bond that she’d never understand.

And she didn’t want to, some stories were best kept in families, to be sent down the line, generation after generation, to fall into the lap of someone like her one day and create a whole world with it.

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband, wife and daughter, the royal Reid family,” Taylor’s voice is soft as she plays along with Amoreena’s fantasy land, hushed to match the moment as Spencer leaned in to kiss Y/N.

Amoreena doesn’t cry out in disgust this time, instead, resting her head on her dad's shoulder as she watched them peck each other's lips gently. Watching a fairytale happy ending unfold in front of her very eyes, blessed to be the result of this happy union.

...

A/N: my anon is on now if anyone wants to come talk about the fic with me!! i love to share little hc's and things with you over here (also this was the original planned ending I wasn't going to continue past here but I'm probably going to write this for the next 10 years its too fun not to)

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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words-in-the-wind · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4: The One where Tommy and Tubbo meet

Previous: Chapter 3

Word Count: 1,535

Tommy jerked awake in his bed, startled to awareness by the loud clang of a bell. The warning bell. Eyes wide in realization, he rolls of the low mattress, grabbing the hammer sat beside his bed for this very eventuality. The town was rather prone to orc raids, especially in the fall when the harvest had just come in. His mentor, Sam, the person who had saved him from the streets, met him out in the main area of the shop, face grim. “It’s a warband.” Tommy could feel the blood drain from his face, this wasn’t good. Orc warbands were rare, as the infighting between tribes often caused too much strife for two or more to cooperate. But when they did come together to form a warband, the resulting fight was often enough to overwhelm even the guards stationed at smaller cities, much less a smaller town like this one. He grit his teeth, peeking through the slats of the shutters over the windows. The bell had gone silent, and the whole world felt eerily still.

Boom A muffled thud echoed through the buildings, and Tommy tensed. A battering ram, the orcs had a battering ram. Three more thuds came, each louder than the last, until the crack of wood splintering pierced the air and Tommy recoiled. He ducked down into the space below the window, back to the wall, praying to whatever god was listening that the orcs didn’t decide to raid their shop. Selfish, he knew, but in the moment, he didn’t care. Footsteps pounded the cobblestone roads outside of the shop, practically shaking the small shop. The loud clang of metal on metal started up, and soon, a loud scream tore through the air. Tommy didn’t know how long he’d sat there, with Sam, on the floor of the humble shop, before the screams ended and the smell of smoke began to permeate the air. “Do…do you think it’s over?” He could barely push the whisper out of his throat, but Sam heard him anyway. Eyes grim, the older man shook his head, right when a sharp rap began at the door. Tommy froze in horror. Sam gestured frantically for him to move into the back room, and he did, scrambling faster than he ever moved in his life. Before Tommy could get over to the inner room, he heard the door crack and a figure stride in. His world jerked upward, and he found himself caught by the back of his shirt, flailing in a much taller creature’s grasp. The orc growled, face right up in Tommy’s as the boy froze on instinct. “Hey!” A familiar voice filtered through his awareness as the orc’s head whipped around. “Drop him!” It was Sam, who hurled a heavy mallet straight at the orc’s skull. It hit, rebounding off of and hitting the floor with a thud. The orc howled in pain, dropping the gnome boy as he turned, facing the shorter man. “Tommy, run!” Sam shouted, eyes fixed on the imposing, 8 foot tall figure in the middle of the artificer’s shop. Tommy did, sprinting for the back room as he could hear the orc roar, and Sam’s scream of pain before everything went quiet as the door slammed shut. He locked it with shaking fingers and wedged a chair under the doorknob, just like Sam had taught him. Sam, who’d distracted the orc from taking him. Sam who was… Tommy could feel the panic rising in his chest as he pushed it down. Not now. Any time but now. He could hear the orc shuffling around in the main shop, opening cabinets and crates in his search for whatever the creature was looking for. He tried to calm his breaths as he scrambled for his emergency bag with food, clothes, some money, and most importantly, the small music player and two discs that him and Sam -he choked back a sob at the memory- had crafted, right after he’d accepted Sam’s offer. Shaking away the memory, he quickly looked around, trying to come up with an escape plan. Maybe he could get out the back window without anything spotting him. He was small, stealthy, quick. He could do this. He would do this. A crash came as the orc clearly got sick of the front room, and was throwing his weight against the hastily barricaded door. If Tommy wanted to get out, he’d have to do it now. He opened the window, leaping out and shutting it just before the door crashed open, giving away under the orc’s strength.  He couldn’t freeze, not now of all times. Tommy darted away, using the alleys that he knew like the back of his hand. It wasn’t enough. He rounded the corner to the main gate just as his luck ran out. A trio of orcs spotted him, and were headed straight for his position. Suddenly, the low call of a horn rang out, and thundering hooves filled the gate, bright steel flashing down to strike at the orcs. Two people, one a green-skinned tiefling, horns curling back over his head as he struck at the orcs with a gleaming scimitar, drawing blood onto the sharp edge. The other wasn’t astride a horse, but instead, was a centaur, black hair drifting around his ears as a spear sunk into an orc. A blast of fire came from the rear, impacting another orc as they began to flee away from the new threat. Tommy could only watch in shock as the newly arrived adventurer’s group began to fight against the orcs, slaughtering them through superior tactics and weapons. He didn’t notice an orc had come up behind him, and was lifted into the air for the second time today.  “Hey!” Tommy shouted, thrashing in his captor’s grasp. The orc grinned widely, turning about to retreat down the street with his prize. The centaur, who had been tied up in combat, clearly heard Tommy’s loud cry, wheeled around and charged towards the unaware orc. It realized, but too late as the spear pinned the orc by the shoulder to the wall, and a cutlass took off its head. “Hey, kid, you alright?” It took Tommy a slow moment to realize the centaur was addressing him. And in that time, he’d been picked up, put on the centaur’s back and brought over the the caravan. “Wait-” Tommy never got to finish his sentence before he was being swung around again, placed on a cart. There was another kid sitting there, a brown hooded shirt pulled over his head, in a meditative position “Tubbo!” The centaur addressed the other kid, “This guy’s a little hurt, think you can do something about that?” The kid startled out of his zoned out state, eyes landing on Tommy. “Oh, yeah! Sure.” He held his hand out to Tommy. Tommy took it, and felt the scrapes and bruises he’d acquired from the past few hours heal and close. “Thanks, big man.” “No problem!” Tubbo tried to guide Tommy into a deeper conversation, explaining to him who everyone was, and he just went along with it. Anything to quiet the screaming inside.

-x-

The group of four that had been charged with protecting the caravan met up, each covering in blood (mostly not their’s) and tired after the long fight. “I’m completely out.” The burnt orange colored humanoid sighed, running a hand over her wands. “Aren’t you, literally made of the elements, Fire-Fox?” The green tiefling ran his hand through his hair, grimacing at the strands matted with blood. His scimitar hung from the other, coated in the grey-ish blood of orcs. Fire-Fox snarled at the tiefling, “I can still run out of juice, Syndicate.” She reached out, bonking him on the head lightly, “Can still do that, too.” Syndicate winced slightly, rubbing the spot she’d hit, “Captain! Foxy’s being mean!” The centaur, who had just trotted up next to them, shook his head, “Calm down, you two. Where’s Jericho.” “Here!” The other tiefling of the group popped up, healing up the small cuts in his arms, “Don’t worry ‘bout me.” “Let Tubbo take care of those, he’s better at it than you.” Fire-Fox nodded at the cuts that were sluggishly closing. “Oh, right. About that, I found a gnome kid getting kidnapped by an orc, and Tubbo seems to have imprinted on him.” “Ah, right.” They had finally gotten in sight of the cart, and yes, Tubbo and the mystery kid were asleep, curled up next to each other. “Do you even know his name?”  “Nope, there wasn’t exactly time to ask.” Jordan, fondly nicknamed “The Captain” by his friends, drew up along side the cart, pulling a blanket out and laying it over the two kids, who barely stirred. “I can’t believe you’ve adopted another one.” Jericho’s head fell into his hands as he groaned quietly, jumping onto the front of the cart. The people who paid them to protect the caravan wouldn’t be too happy about the new kid, but they could deal with it. There was no way any of the four adventurers were leaving an obvious orphan in a just-raided town.

Next: Chapter 5

#dream smp #dsmp #tommy #tommyinnit #tubbo #captain sparklez #fanfiction #dnd au chapter 4

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Rules For Falling In Love: #4

summary: In which George wants to get married. But… you’re not dating. Why should you say yes?

a/n: Hey yall! There were some interesting predictions mixed among the super sweet feedback from the last chapter and all I can say is, I hope you dig this one just as well! There's only ONE MORE chapter left after this one. Can you believe it? Thanks for everyone who've stuck with this sweet little story so far ♡

w/c: 3k

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Finally, for once, you had no worries. No work, no award ceremonies, no pending run to the market you were dreading. You threw all the things essential for a weekend getaway into one big bag and watched out of the passenger window as George drove to the little beachside town where Dean, or rather, his lady, had invited you to stay.

You met Dean and Claire outside of the town's main drag, where markets and buskers and icecream stands gathered along a winding boardwalk that looked out over the distant ocean. Introductions were hurried as Dean had his eye on a paper map, with a bistro circled. Food driven as always, you chuckled to yourself.

The four of you strolled along the wooden path that creaked under every dragging step. The wind tousled your hair as families of all kinds crept past, laughing, and posing for photos in front of pop up shops and the view of the roaring ocean in the opposite direction.

George threw on arm round your shoulder as you both soaked up the sights, listening to Dean tell a story. He walked backward to watch your smiles crack into laughter when his punch lines hit. Claire lingered by his side, looking to him with a wide grin, leading the way all the same.

She went well with Dean, you thought. Her dark hair and her bright eyes contrasted his own in perfect harmony. The sun to his moon... Claire kept her sights on Dean, clearly love-struck. And even when she spun around to answer one of George's long-winded questions, Claire glanced to Dean as she spoke, and he watched on with a similar grin. If there was any question of the girls fitting in with the group you and the other two men made up, her clear adoration for your friend was answer enough.

When you made it to the bistro at the end of the walk, and a tired eyed host informed your party would have a bit of a wait, none of you seemed to mind. You settled on a bench in the crisp shade, watching Dean pull Claire into the sun for a round of selfies.

"They're made for each other, aren't they?" George gushed, watching your friend and his lady from across the way.

"A good match indeed." You chuckled, nodding approvingly. You joked for a while how it felt like you were both watching Dean grow up and bring a date home for the holidays. And when you finally got to sit around and enjoy a meal together, it seemed as if Claire had been a permanent fixture long before now. She asked about your life and listened on with care. She gushed over George's talent in the film he and Dean had just finished promoting. And Dean babbled over her, telling the story of how he'd met Claire and what kind of a fool he made of himself in his attempt to ask her out. You all laughed and ate and kept on laughing when it was time to roam around the main drag once more.

Then, you all darted after window displays that caught your eye, stopping to greet a very excited dog who couldn't help but sniff your shoes on it's trot past. It was the perfect afternoon full of simple fun.

You split up inside a bookstore that seemed to sell little bits of everything besides rows of novels. Dean and George were taken by a large collection of war-torn photographs, huddled together to turn the pages and spout facts. You shook your head with a chuckle as you floated on past them toward a wall of fake flowers and handcrafted bookmarks.

As you reached out to admire some of the trinkets, Claire floated closer to do the same.

"Dean's told me you and George have only just gotten married. I thought surely you'd been together for years, the way you two go together." Claire turned her pleasant smile in your direction. You couldn't help but let out a laugh. This was a different version of the same type of question you always got. But it didn't make you nervous as it had the first couple of times, all those years ago. You'd come to expect it, now.

"Yes, we've known each other for almost ever." You shrugged, pulling a marble toned bookmark from the shelf out of curiosity. "Only now I suppose we're 'official'."

Claire gave you a slow, sage nod, grimacing at a gaudy display of paperclips as you sauntered through the aisles.

"I feel like I've known Dean for decades." She smiled, and you did too, coming upon a row of children's books under an entrance of paper planes hanging by string you couldn't see. "And I can't imagine being with anyone else, but the idea of marriage has never settled with me." The girl shrugged, speaking toward her risen shoulder as if making a confession. It was your turn to nod, understanding more than she probably knew.

"It's a hassle to change your name." You let out a soft laugh, glancing to notice George and Dean pointing to another book in the same section you'd left them behind in. "And you don't need a piece of paper to prove anything, but... it is nice." You seemed to decide. Claire listened, watching the wheels turn in your head as you spoke your thoughts aloud. You spun off into some ill rehearsed monologue about how seriously George had taken his commitment to remain a team with you, how valued it made you feel. All while forming your thoughts into words, new thoughts nagged you in the back of your head. You and George had only ever agreed to get married for convenience, what gave you the right to preach the value and meaning of the tradition you'd gone through with so unconventionally?

"Shit, that was beautiful." Claire let out a stunned chuckled, looking to you as if she'd just met you for the first time all over again.

"I really don't know how I got so lucky." You spoke, realizing that if you'd failed to see the importance of the decision you'd made until now, you must not have been worthy of the title that linked you to George. You realized just how deeply rooted your connection with him was. And you were suddenly wrought with nerves that the foundation on which you built your promises to George, weren't valuable enough to make your marriage last. And you suddenly realized just how desperately you wanted it to last. And that was a scary new thought.

///

Claire had found the perfect cottage in the hillside near the ocean, up and away from the bustling beachside town. She raced up the paint chipped the front porch and waved you all into the front door, as the sun started to set through the dense leafy trees that surrounded the place.

"Oh, it's so perfectly cozy!" Claire exclaimed, skipping through tight doorways. The dull white trim and narrow wooden hallways were charming as could be. The living space was complete with a stone fireplace, and there was a massive patio out of the kitchen that managed to overlook the distant ocean, inside the gated confinement of the lush back garden.

George insisted his friends take the master bedroom since they were the hosts. The small spare would be just fine for the two of you, wouldn't it? You'd been on more than your fair share of trips and surprise sleepovers where you'd had to share close quarters with George, before now.

But until the time came to fight over which side of the bed to stay on, everyone found themselves out back in the comfy cushioned patio furniture, watching the sun turn the beach golden while dense clouds turned the sky dark overhead. You all stayed there for a while, chatting about the places you'd wound up earlier in the day. Laughing about some of the people you'd met in passing. George insisted you tell some old story he knew the details of just as well. Dean already knew most of your stories, together and apart, but he still laughed along as you told them to Claire.

When it was her turn to speak, she mostly spoke of Dean, how he'd charmed her family, how some of their adventures together panned out. He kept his moonstruck gaze settled on her, as you and George exchanged knowing glances to one another.

When the air grew misty and cold, you headed in to start a fire in the living room. Claire said something about having brought along drinks to mix and headed to the kitchen after you. George went in search of a sweater as a chill sent Dean in too.

You listened as everyone flutter about the rented space, spouting lose plans for the next, and the last day you'd spend on the mini getaway. You managed to spark the perfect fire in the stone place, as someone chose a record from the vintage player in the corner. How lovely for the renters to leave some albums for their guests, you thought.

Dean soon stole your attention by creping into the room and clearing his throat. You whipped around from studying the flickering flames to see Dean giving you an expectant glare, as if you were the one who'd approached him with something to say.

"What?" You worried. Dean only grabbed you by the elbow and led you closer to the crackling fire, away from the open kitchen doorway.

"Is something... going on?" He asked in a nervous hush, glancing back to where George had taken to help mix drinks.

"Oh God, why did George say something? Is he mad at me? He'll cry if he sees me cry and so he'll go too long without telling me if-."

"No..." Dean laughed unbelievably, stalling your rambling. "No, that's the thing. You've always been a convincing couple. But this is- you both seem... different. Has something changed, at long bloody last? Are you, ya know... down to one-bedroom, back home?"

"Dean. Nothing has changed. George and I still have never slept together, and I can't believe you're asking, after all this time." He was always supposed to be the friend who understood, who was the only one saving all the dumb questions people at parties would always ask.

"First of all... you said never have, not never will. See? Secondly. You're married. Things obviously aren't the same as they were when I met the both of you."

"You are reading in between lines that aren't there."

"No, I'm looking across the room right now and watching George watch you, and as his best friend I can tell you that there are lines you're not acknowledging."

Another voice cut through your frantic whispered argument with Dean.

"What are you two up to?" George quirked a brow, holding out two perfectly mixed drinks for either of you to take.

"Nothing." You responded to George, but looked to Dean, more so making your point clear that there was nothing to argue about any further. He pursed his lips, rolled his eyes, and turned to smile and thank George for the drink.

Your group took to the cozy living room, around the warm fire as rain started to pelt at the windows. As you sat, like usual, unfamiliar thoughts crept out of the shadowy dungeons of your mind. A few dozen "what if's?" floated about your head, growing louder every time George locked eyes with you, asked you to remember a certain story, told his own on your behalf. You watched him speak, sipping your drink as you silently studied George. You watched his hands fan about as he spoke, before his fingers rested on your knee. Was it just a reflex? You felt him sink lower into the sofa at your side, leaning toward you to rest his drink on the coffee table, letting his shoulder stay pressed against yours while Claire told a crazy story about her time at Uni.

You caught Dean's glances, the question in his eye. He was silently asking you what he dared to address earlier. The question that hadn't left your mind since he'd brought it up.

When the fire started to die, and the rain became more than just background noise, you decided to call it a night. Everyone went their separate ways, parting with quips about how excited they were for the last day of roaming about the quaint seaside city.

You sat up in the warm, blanket dense bed while George took his turn cleaning up for the evening. You opened a book in your lap, but you didn't read. You totally zoned out, lip trapped between your teeth as your brian drifted completely away from the lines on the pages.

Only when George eased into his side of the bed with a stretch were you broken from the daze. You turned to him with a question you hadn't realized was on the tip of your tongue

"What did you think of me when we first met?" You recalled the very day you moved across the neighborhood, how Georges parents were the first to offer your family baked goods and a friendly smile. You didn't meet George until school began, but when you realized he belonged to the neighbors your family had become accustomed to chatting with at the end of the block, it all made sense.

"I thought you'd be a big bully." George teased, settling under the covers as you scoffed in reply. "Really, you were too pretty. I thought surely you'd torment the school like in all the pretty girls do in American teen dramas."

"Well, you looked like all the boys on the rugby team, so I supposed I thought the same." You jeered, shutting your book. "I was truly shocked to learn there was a big brain inside that lovely head of yours."

George smiled, nearly rolled his eyes.

"Remember bonding over being little teenaged nerds, together?" You asked with a breathy chuckle, setting your book aside. George seemed to study you seriously for a beat before responding.

"Course I remember. Just because we've spent every day together since then doesn't mean the details blur together."

"So then you haven't blocked out that embarrassing New Year's Eve party, then?" You laughed, watching George bite back a reluctant smile.

"Unfortunately, no I haven't managed to forget." He grinned. "There's this girl who likes to remind me of it every holiday season, and sometimes more than that." George playfully glared your way. You'd both been keeping each other secrets for so long, there was no worry over using them as blackmail. Your only fear was the day you and George stopped keeping tabs.

For another few minutes, you rambled over the silliest times you'd spent together. The time he got so scared in the middle of haunted house maze that he let out a shriek, that you took the blame for when your friends stalled ahead to make sure you two were alright. Or the summer you had a reoccurring dream about meeting Robert DeNiro that ended up coming true when George introduced you to the icon at some award show.

George laughed along as memories kept popping into your mind. You chattered about them until your heart grew heavy, for reasons you couldn't begin to understand. When George started telling some story about Dean, you remembered your friends suspicions from earlier. You were no longer questioning how George might have felt. You've moved on to wondering exactly what it was you were feeling.

You were zoning out again, Georges rambles sounded distant and muffled as you tried to process what was going through your head. Why your throat was going dry? What was going on? And right when you felt the threat of tears burning the backs of your eyes, you snapped out of it, and determined you were being utterly ridiculous.

"Hey, what's wrong?" George turned toward you, worried, noticing your glossy eyes. You were quick to suck it all back in, shove it all way deep down.

"I... I really don't know." You shrugged because you didn't. You reached over to flick the bedside lamp off with a pathetic sniffle. When you turned back to settle in for the night, George was there, reaching out to you. You couldn't help but follow his lead, as he nudged you toward the pillows, leaving a warm comforting hand splayed across your shoulder as his ocean colored eyes searched yours.

"For better or worse, right?" George asked in a hush. His way of assuring you could tell him anything. But you didn't have words for feelings you didn't understand, yourself. You just gave him the nicest smile you could muster and closed your eyes for the evening.

///

You woke up early, you could tell by the way the sun was peaking over the frame of your window. What you couldn't figure out, though, was how Geogre had stayed so close to you all night long. You were pinned under his arm, close enough that you debated staying there to relish the comfort. But your eyes wouldn't close again, and you didn't disturb his peace on your silent mission to get up. So you did, headed for the kitchen to fix some tea and try and sort out your jumbled thoughts in the blip of time you had so quietly all to yourself.

But you mustn't have been as clever as you'd hoped, because no sooner than you'd started the kettle and found some breakfast to cook, George was up. He looked like he'd rather be sleeping, as he shuffled in the room, musing his flaxen hair and holding back a yawn.

You gave him a hushed good morning, in case the others were still down for the count. George hardly greeted you. Instead, he sauntered closer to peer over your shoulder at the food you'd found to cook, and wrapped his arms around you in a loose hug. Maybe he thought you were still upset. He was always quick to comfort...

"It's very hard to make breakfast this way." You laughed, all the while savoring the contact like you hadn't been touched in ages. Geogre hummed, reluctantly letting go when the kettle rang. He went about fixing tea for the both of you when Dean shuffled in.

The dark-headed fellow traded chipper good mornings and gave Geogre strict instructions on how to fix his tea. While Geogre spun around with a chuckle, he brushed past you and letting his fingers trail across your arm before he was too far away to reach for another cup. That's when Dean shot you a look reminiscent of the one he kept flashing you last night. You gave him the smallest shake of your head to confirm you hadn't gotten a better idea of what was going on. In fact, you were more confused than ever.

You and Georg always discussed everything. Game planning was your best combined talent. From what to watch on movie night, to how to deal with disasters and destruction, you'd always talk through everything as it happened, together. But you couldn't talk to Geogre about this... you tried last night, and look what kind of confused mess that conversation made you into. That's when you realized how easily you settled under his quick comfort. And that you longed to cuddle just as close for no good reason... That's when you realized that you weren't very confused at all. You realized exactly what you were feeling. Now you just needed to accept it...

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taglist: @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @andux @imaginationandlove @velvetgoldsilver @queen-bunnyears @maria-josefin @dearevansamham @belledamsceno@nilletellsstories @loulouloueh @visionsofmelodrama @haileymorelikestupid

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

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mysteryofren · 4 years

Text

Out Of State Adventures

chapter 43 of So Happy Together

masterlist

Tags: @wumboho @pylopenpolo @duty-isnt-always-honour

A/n: YOOO ELAINES ALMOST GONE IT HURTS also reader and Elaine's goodbye to her house is based of a song called little room by Dodie! Give it a listen for the full sad effect

Time had gone by. You had seen Ben a few times between then, and now, but not enough to say you're dating just yet. He did keep his promise though. Every time he dropped you off or you left he would ask you to be his girlfriend. You would just laugh, and say bye. Now the summer is almost over. Elaine had her things packed, and ready to go for New York. You looked around the packed room in her home and felt a hint of excitement and sadness in your heart. This was it. The moment you guys had been dreading was coming, and she would have to leave you. Not only that but Hux is leaving too. You had looked in an open box in the corner of her room and saw a bunch of photos, and stuff to decorate her walls. You taped it shut, and wrote on the side what was in it. Her brother had walked by, and smiled at you.

“Hey. You okay?” He asked walking back over.

“What am I gonna do without her?” You asked him.

“Dude, what's she gonna do without you? I know she's gonna be fine without seeing Matt, but you? I never thought she would go anywhere without you.” Sitting down on the bed you sighed.

“Hey,” He began. “You guys will be fine. You’ll be up there with her in no time.”

He walked away again, and left you alone in the room. You looked at a spot where you guys had spilled nail polish on the floor during one of your sleepovers. On the floor was another stain you knew too well. Next to her desk was a dark spot on the floor from all the teas, and coffees shes dropped over the years. She had a bad habit of leaving her drinks at the edge of the desk, and accidentally dropping it. You were gonna miss that. At the dorm when you two put your desks together it was mostly so her mugs would just be pushed onto your desk instead of the floor.

You stood, and looked by her door. On the frame was marks that showed how much she had grown over the years. Closer to the top there were always two marks that were fairly close to each other. That’s when her parents started measuring your growth too. You had always wished they were your parents too. They had treated you like you were their kid too, and it always made your heart full when they would bring you to family holidays, and events. Behind her door was a bunch of different doodles, and writing. Elaine had people sign her door whenever they came over. You signed a bunch of times, but you still remember the first one. It was in the bottom left corner. A small heart with your initials in it. Under it you had written ‘your best friend until the end’. You ran your finger across it, and walked out of the room. Her parents had asked your grandfather inf they could borrow his truck for the move, and he happily handed his keys to you.

The truck wasn’t enough so Matt was going to come by later, and help with the rest. The three of you were going to drive everything up to New York, and help her get settled in. it was going to be a lot of work, but you were ready for it. You know shes going to do the same for you when it comes time to leave.

“You okay? You seem a million miles away.” You heard her mother say.

“I just cant believe shes already leaving. I feel like we didn’t have enough time.” You told her.

“Well you both still have time. You guys have the rest of your lives I would say that’s enough time.” she smiled, and hugged you.

“I feel like there’s never gonna be enough time for me, and her.”

“Well you girls have been joined at the hip since you met.” she continued talking to you as you helped put more stuff in the bed of the truck. The day went on, and finally everything was done.

With the car packed all that was left was a few things for Matt’s car. You all had a 3 day drive ahead of you, which would certainly prove to be a challenge. Elaine, and you had hung out around her town while you waited for Matt to come get the rest of her stuff. The two of you had seen a movie, gotten lunch, and hung out at the park for a little bit. You were sitting on a swing with her watching a dog chase something when she called your name.

“Do you think New York will be fun? I'm scared it's not gonna be fun.” She asked.

“Listen if it's not, it will be when me, Matt, and Phasma get there.”

“That is something to look forward to. Just wish Hux could be there too. I'm actually gonna miss him, and his dry humor more than anything.”

“Wow, so you're going to miss Hux more than me?” You feigned offense, and she laughed at you.

“Oh yeah definitely, what would I do without his remorseless gaze, and over gelled hair.” The two of you laughed.

“I knew you were using me to get closer to Hux! To think all these years I thought I was really your best friend.”

“No, it was all an illusion.” You laughed again, and stood up to stretch your legs out.

“Hey, are you gonna miss me?” She asked, still sitting on the swing.

“About as much as you’re going to miss Hux.” You joked.

“I'm serious Y/N. I'm so scared. For the first time ever I'm really gonna be on my own. I'm scared to do it without you. I'm scared of you, and Matt forgetting me.”

“We could never forget you. If anything you'll forget about us. I mean you’ll be at a fancy school with fancy new friends in a fancy new city. You're gonna be great.”

Just then you got a text. It was Ben.

‘Hey kid, we're at Elaine's house whenever you guys are ready.’

You let her know, and you two left the park. The drive to her house was quiet. Neither of you sat in comfortable silence as she drove to her house. As soon as you got his car packed up you all would be leaving. Then the real anxiety would kick in. None of it ever felt real to you, and it probably wouldn't feel real until you got there. You saw the gate to her neighborhood, and felt nervous for some reason. You guys pulled into the driveway, and you saw Matt, and Bens car sitting with the trunk open. Just then you saw her brother, and Matt walk out with a few boxes.

Matt called out to Elaine as the two of you got out of the car. She ran over to him as he put the box down in the trunk. As they kissed you heard her brother groan and walk away. You went inside after him to help finish packing. You walked in, and saw Ben walking with a bag in his hand.

“Hey kid, I think she's only got one bag left, after that we're good to go.” He said stopping next to you, and kissing your cheek. His wording had gone over your head, and you just headed upstairs to grab the bag.

Her room was officially empty. All that was in it was her old bed, and a dresser. You picked the bag up from the bed, and headed downstairs. Ben had taken the bag from you, and placed it in the backseat. With that being done it was time to go. You, and Elaine looked at the house from your car. She asked to go in one last time before leaving, and the two of you walked through. You went to every room, and each room you passed through another memory came to your mind. Her parents room where you guys would have late night conversations with her mom. Her oldest brother's room where you guys would watch him play video games. The dining room where her family held so many dinners. Finally you got to her room. There were so many memories that came to mind it was overwhelming.

This room had seen a lot. You both had spent holidays here. Talked about boys, told secrets, laughed, cried, and smiled so much in this one little room. It had seen you, and her grow up. Now you guys were too grown to stay here anymore. She hugged you as you two walked out of it. It still didn't feel real yet. The both of you got downstairs to say goodbye to her parents. Her mother smiled as she hugged, and kissed Elaine. Her dad was crying as he held her tight. It would be a long time before they saw each other again. Her parents didn't like traveling so for the most part all their kids did this type of stuff themselves. At least her other brother had decided to go to college locally.

“So, what's the plan? Are we dropping Ben off,and going from there?” Elaine asked.

“I'm coming with you guys.” He stated.

“You are?” Elaine had asked.

“Yeah.”

“Haven't you had enough out of state adventures?” She asked him with an angry tone.

“You're still holding that against me?”

“Ben I plan on holding it against you until I die.” He put his hands up in defeat, and walked towards your truck.

“You're driving with me?” You asked him.

“Yeah kid.” He said as he got in. you looked over to Matt's car where you saw Elaine, and Matt getting in.

“When are you gonna stop calling me kid?” you asked as you got in, and started the car.

“Until you let me call you my girlfriend.”

“You are persistent i’ll give you that.”

“Hey we got a 3 day drive ahead of us. I bet by the end of this you’ll say yes.”

“Alright its a bet.” You said with a smile.

You had been driving for 6 hours already. Night had come, but you all still got as far as you could. You all wanted to at least get across state lines before stopping for a rest. Driving with Ben hadn’t been as unbearable as you thought. It had been fun to your surprise. He would blast music, and the two of you would sing along. He had a habit of badly dancing during some songs though. You thought the drive would never end until finally you the sign welcoming you to the next state. You sighed with relief, and called Elaine.

‘Hey there's a small motel up ahead we’re gonna stop there.’ she said as soon as she answered the phone.

‘Thank god. I'm so tired I felt like I was gonna pass out.’

‘Don't pass out just yet we still have like 30 minutes before we get there.’

You groaned loudly as you hung up. You were more tired than you were hungry. You all stopped at a gas station for snacks before leaving, and Ben had been handing you yours as time went by. It was a sweet gesture. Every now, and then he would pull out one of your snacks, and he would hold it up for you to take a bite while you kept your eyes on the road. He did it again once you had hung up knowing you would need something to keep you going until then. After, what felt like hours, you had finally seen the neon sign of the motel up ahead. You pulled into it following Matt to where he was going to park. You had to use the bathroom badly so you ran to it as the others checked it.

When you finished, and came out the only thing you saw in the parking lot was Ben leaning against the truck. You jogged over to him, and he smiled holding up a key.

“Where's Elaine and your brother?” You asked.

“Well.” He began, “they didn't have any rooms with two beds. So we ended up getting two rooms.”

“Okay. that still doesn't explain where they are.”

“They decided to just share a room so you, and I will be rooming together.” You felt your face begin to heat up. Not only did you have to be stuck in a car with him for three days, but now you also had to sleep in the same room with him.

He grabbed your bag out of the car for you along with his. He handed over the key, and gestured for you to go ahead of him. You looked at the room number, and began to look for the room all while he spoke to you about little random things. You didn't dare to look at him as he spoke, because you knew he would see how red your face had gotten. You found the room, and opened it up. As you walked in you felt your heart stop. There was only one bed. You had hoped that maybe it was a room with two twin beds or something, but unfortunately the world isn't so kind today. The door slammed behind you, and you heard him put the bags down on the floor.

“I'm gonna go shower.” You said as you quickly went to the small bathroom, and closed the door.

You didn’t need to shower, but you were going to just to get away for a bit. You stripped off your clothes, and started the water, which to your surprise was pretty hot. You were about to hop in when he knocked on the door. Part of you planned to ignore it until he knocked again. You sighed, and wrapped one of the small towels around your body. You opened the door only a crack, and saw him standing against the wall next to the door. He held a pair of folded pajamas in his hand and he held them out.

“Figured you might need these.” He said shoving his hand, and the clothes through.

“Oh thank you. It completely slipped my mind to grab some.” you said taking them out of his big hand.

“I mean by all means if you don't need them feel free.” He joked as he gave you a big goofy smile. You playfully hit him, and shut the door. You placed the clothes down, and towel down on the counter when you heard him knock again.

“Hey save some hot water for me i'm going in after you.” You heard him call out from the room.

You smiled to yourself, and got in. the entire time you wondered what you were supposed to do for tonight. You could sleep on the floor. He could sleep on the floor. If neither of you came to an agreement about who would sleep on the floor, then maybe you could just use pillows to make a wall between you two. The shower didn’t last too long. You wanted to save him some hot water so you only stayed in for a few minutes before hoping out. You dried your body off, and grabbed another towel for your hair. After changing ino your pajamas you walked out, and saw him laying on the bed. It had new sheets,and a new blanket.

“Did you change the bedding?” You asked him.

“Oh yeah. My mom always does it at hotels so I guess its just a habit I picked up from her.”

Just then he jumped up, and grabbed his clothes. He walked to the bathroom. Once you heard the door close you sat on the bed. It was surprisingly soft. You laid down for what you thought would be a second until you fell asleep.

You woke up slowly. First you just heard the things around you like the birds outside, the cars passing by, and the breeze going through the trees. You moved your body a little when you felt something on you. You linked once. Then twice. Then you opened just one eye to try, and adjust to the lighting. You were facing the window. The sun was shining through the little hole between the two curtains. It couldn't have been too late. Maybe 9 or 10 in the morning. Slowly you reached up to feel for the towel you had fallen asleep with. It was gone. It must have fallen off in the night. At this point you could comfortably open both eyes. You tried to sit up, but something was weighing you down.

Slowly you turned your head, and saw Ben sleeping next to you. His body was facing yours, and he had one arm under you, and one on top of you. He looked peaceful. You watched as his nose flared a bit while he breathed, and his lips twitched slightly. He tightened his grip on you a bit as his sleeping body felt your movements. You turned so you were looking up at the ceiling. As you did so you heard him groan, and mumble something under his breath. You smiled, and closed your eyes again. You began to drift off again when you felt him pull you closer, and lay his head in the crook of your neck. You placed a hand gently on the side of his face as you felt his breath tickle your skin.

Sleep took you again. This time you woke up, and he was gone. You sat up, and looked around. It was less bright for sure. This time it had to be maybe 12 or 11. The place where Ben had slept next to you was a bit messed up. You stood, and saw the towel that was on your head had been placed back on the chair by the front door. He must have taken it off for you, and placed it there. You slowly walked to the bathroom, and got ready for the day. As you finished getting dressed you heard the door open. Ben called your name out, and you walked out of the bathroom. He had a small bag in his hand, and he placed it on the side table by the bed.

“Drove like 30 minutes to get us some breakfast. Hope you like egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches.” You smiled, and walked over to grab one of the sandwiches from the bag.

You opened it up, and began eating when he sat next to you to do the same. You tried to avoid looking at him as you slowly ate. He cleared his throat, and then spoke.

“So, uh, you sleep good kid?” He asked before taking another bite. You swallowed, and thought for a second.

“Yeah, I did, thank you.”

“You fell asleep with the towel on your head, but I took it off for you.”

“Yeah I noticed. Thanks.”

“Oh yeah no problem.” He said as he finished his sandwich.

It felt awkward. Like he knew that you saw him cuddled up against you like a big puppy. It was probably best to get it out of the way before you had to sit in a car for 12 hours together.

“So last night wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.” You finally said. He smiled a bit as he cleaned up the room.

“Oh yeah? Why did you think it would be bad?” You stood up, and talked as you packed up your things.

“I don't know. Just thought it would be awkward sleeping in the same bed together or something.”

“Well I can't say I have any complaints either. You're much better to sleep with than Rey.” your face flushed.

“Really?” Was all you could bring yourself to ask.

“Yeah. she never let me hold her while we slept. She's also a bed hog. I would always wake up with Half my body hanging off the bed while she was stretched up.” You laughed while helping him get his sheets off the bed.

“I completely forgot she does that. When we were kids she would always kick me off the bed, and I would have to go sleep with my grandparents or sleep on the floor.”

“Yeah exactly! When she would stay at my house I would have to go to the guest bedroom.”

“Did she ever kick you in her sleep?” You asked.

“No. She would just slowly push me away.”

“Well at least she grew out of her sleep kicking. I would wake up with bruises on my back from her kicking.” He laughed as you two finished packing up.

You guys stayed chatting as you got your things together to go meet Matt, and Elaine. You both waited by the car, and talked as you waited. After a few minutes you saw them both walk out of their room. They talked as they came down before Elaine saw you. She ran up to you, and you two talked for a bit while the boys went to check out.

“Sorry we dumped you with him. I wanted to room with you, but Matt really wanted to stay with each other.”

“It's fine. It wasn't all that bad either.” You said with a smile. Her jaw dropped as she saw your face turn red again.

“Oh my star. Did you two do something?” She asked.

“Oh, god, no. I passed out after I showered. I did wake up to him holding me though.” She jumped up, and down a bit while clapping her hands together.

“Yes!!! I know for a fact Solo men are great at cuddling,so how did you like it?”

“It was so great. I will admit though I think I enjoyed my night with Hux a bit more.”

“That feels like it was ages ago. To think that was the day we got your dress.”

“I know. I feel like it's all moving by so quick.” She hugged you, and you both turned to see the boys walk out.

They let you know that you had been all checked out, and were set to go. Elaine pulled away from you, and gave you a wink as she walked away. You turned to get in when Ben came behind you, and offered to drive. You gladly handed him the keys, and made your way to the passenger seat. This went on for the rest of the trip. You would stop somewhere, and switch seats. He would drive, then you, then him, and back to you again. Night came again, and once more you two were placed together. The both of you would sleep, cuddle, wake up, eat breakfast, and leave. It stayed that way until you had finally arrived at NYU.

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realllllfangirllllll · 5 years

Text

More Than Friends ||

Chp. 35

Masterlist

CEO!Jaehyun AU x Reader

College Student!Jaemin AU x Reader

Summary: After a complicated relationship with the infamous CEO, you want nothing more than to live your life as a normal college student; however, Mr. CEO just can’t let you go.

{ Previous / Next }

Slowly tearing your eyelids open, you found yourself wrapped up in Mark’s bed. A bead of sweat began to roll down the side of your face. The heat aggravated you, so you flung the bedsheets off you. The first thing your mind went to was your phone. You found your bag on the bedside table and dug desperately for your device.

A numerous amount of notifications flooded your screen when you turned it on. You saw all the texts your friends sent filled with concern, but you couldn’t help but scroll through the many hate comments on your social media. A wave of online news mentioned you and Jaehyun, most of them containing harsh and negative criticism.

Your eyes began to water, suddenly, a stream of tears fell down your face. Sadness and insecurity took over you, feeling helpless as a heavy flood of tears soaked your skin.

Gold digger

Slut

Whore

These words repetitively hit your eyes and shot at your heart. You didn’t understand why everyone hated the two of you together. The more comments you read, the more useless you felt.

You did this to Jaehyun. You turned a perfectly fine man into a scandalous bachelor and crushed his life.

The dizzy feeling started to come back to you and you felt like you were surrounded by mirrors in a bathroom all over again. You thought to yourself: No, I can’t do this anymore. I’ve ruined everyone I love. My parents, my ex-boyfriend, and now Jaehyun.

More tears fell down your face as you read the texts Jaehyun sent. You battled with your emotions and logic, and finally, you took the courage to officially end both of your pain. Typing your final words to Jaehyun, you pressed the send button.

I won’t let anyone get hurt because of me anymore. Just like the others, it’s only right to let Jaehyun go as well. I’m certain. But why does my heart feel this way?

You shook your head, ignoring the aching of your heart. Gently moving your limbs, you tried to touch the slippers lying on the hard floor beside you. The bed creaked and almost immediately, Mark zoomed pass the door and offered you his help.

“Watch out little girl. You just fainted, stop trying to move so much,” he warned you with concern.

You smiled weakly as you stood up.

As soon as Mark made eye contact with you, he knew something was wrong. He asked with worry, “Y/n what happened? Did you cry??”

Turning away from Mark, you wiped your tear-stained face. You told him softly with exhaustion evident in your voice, “It’s nothing...”

Mark walked you to the living room couch and sighed as he went to grab a glass of water for you. The room was dead silent, the only noise was the water hitting the bottom of the glass cup. You turned towards the kitchen and stared at Mark, waiting for him to say something. Handing you the glass, he hesitantly said, “Jaehyun and Jaemin found the culprit, and the reporters bombarded Jaehyun,” he let out a huff of exhaustion and continued, “including the chairman of Starship.”

His final words sent a sharp dagger towards your heart. Guilt started to eat you out alive. You chewed at your bottom lip and mumbled towards the floor, “I really did ruin everything for him...”

Mark caught your words and glared at you, “Are you serious right now, y/n?” He started angrily lecturing you, “After all that you went through, you’re still thinking about others? Don’t you see that none of this was your fault?? You need to start thinking about what’s good for yourself, how great of a person you are, and how you do not deserve to be put on the spot like that.” He shook his head and chuckled a bit to himself, “Shit if liking each other is a scandal, then more than 80% of the world is scandalous. Society is dumb, and you need to understand that your relationship did nothing to harm him or you. If anything, the relationship made both of you a better version of yourselves.”

He sat down next to you and grabbed your shoulder, “Listen here dummy, I don’t want to ever see you cry like this. Seeing you in this wrecked up state kills me too.” He then looked down at his feet, softly saying, “So just know whatever I do is because I want you to be happy, ok?”

Completely ignoring Mark’s question, you asked him, “Who was the culprit?”

He scoffed, “Did you even hear anything that I just said?”

You asked him again, this time with more seriousness, “Who. Did. This.”

Taken aback by your reaction, he replied, “That rich chick, Emily Ahn.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Are you serious...what is wrong with her?”

Mark looked at you with confusion, “You know her?”

Laughing, you replied, “Oh yeah. She made out with Jaehyun and then poisoned me.”

He looked at you as if you were crazy, “Wait and you’re still alive, how? And you’re so calm about this, why?”

“Becaus-” Suddenly the door opened and you both turned around to see who the guest was.

When you saw the familiar, wavy brown haired boy, you looked at Mark with shock.

“Oh my god, y/n. You scared the shit outta me. Are you ok?” Your brother dropped his luggage and ran in the direction of the couch, enveloping you into a tight hug.

“I-I’m fine... Why are you here? Weren’t you in LA?” You asked him, startled by his sudden appearance.

Mark confessed guiltily, “I was worried about you and Xiaojun was freaking out on the other end, so I had to tell him. Sorry...”

Your brother replied sarcastically as he unwrapped his arms around you, “As if I’m going to stay there when the media is bashing on my baby sis.”

Mark sighed and told Xiaojun, “Hyung, she just woke up. Just give her a break before we dive into the haters' situation.”

Your brother’s eyes softened when he looked at you, “Do me a favor sis and don’t look at your phone, yeah?”

You rolled your eyes, “Dejun, really? You don’t have to baby me, I get haters from my photography job all the time. Plus, you guys are a bit too late.” You waved your phone in the air and sighed, “I’ve seen everything there is to see.”

He sighed and gently placed a hand on your arm, “Are you ok sis..”

Mark tried his best to cover for you, knowing your brother gets too overprotective of you. He stood up and assured Xiaojun, “Please, do you actually believe your sister is that weak? She’s the strongest person I know, those haters don’t affect her. You got nothing to worry about.”

Even though you noticed Mark sounding a bit off, you gave him a small smile. You were grateful to have Mark on your side. He may be blunt at times, but no matter what, he always supports you and lifts you up at your lowest points. It’s been hard finding someone other than your brother to be there for you, especially since he’s always moving all over the world.

However, Xiaojun wasn’t dumb. He knew his little sister all too well. He also had Soyeon fill him in on everything that he missed. He knew that his sister acted tough and cold-hearted, but in fact, she is actually the kindest, most soft-hearted person in the world.

It might have seemed that he had always carried out his duty as an older brother, but supporting himself and you, his little sister, at the young age of 6 was nearly impossible. He wouldn’t have made it out sane if you hadn’t shown such consideration to his mistakes and personality.

Your brother was a person who likes to constantly move around. Never had he stayed put in one place, ever. Despite his tendencies, you followed him and supported him in everything he did. That’s how you discovered your passion for photography. You wanted to document every place you’ve been to and every memory you shared with him.

Xiaojun sighed as he thought of all the torment you been through. Yet, you still stay strong for him. He didn’t deserve you and he knew that, but it was his god-given gift that he could make sure you lived a life without worries. He got up and told you, “Let’s go sis. We’re getting far away from here.”

You chuckled a bit, missing your adventurous brother, “Ok, where to?”

He pulled you up and pushed you towards the front door, “First, we are revisiting our special place. Then, we are going to your house to get your belongings and passport.”

Stopping to turn towards Mark, he shouted, “Bye lil bro! I’ll keep you updated!”

Mark let a chuckle of relief, “Have fun, you two.”

~~~

You felt a wave of relief wash over you after leaving the playground that you’ve both often visited as children. Catching up with Xiaojun and his adventures made you realize why your brother does what he does. At times, you wished you could live like him. Whenever he felt upset or unhappy with himself, he’d look for self-improvement and content by visiting other countries and meeting new people. It was his way of coping with the abandonment of your parents.

But you were different. You always longed for stability. Yes, you wanted to live independently and free from commitments, but the longer you got to know Jaehyun, the longer you realized that stability can be offered even through the horrors of commitment. He made you realize that maybe your parents were just lost. They couldn’t offer you stability because they didn’t understand it themselves.

You felt stable with Jaehyun. You felt like everything bad in the world would disappear as long as you’re with him. However, you were afraid he wouldn’t feel the same way, especially after last night’s debacle.

Water started to fill the brim of your eyes as you closed your suitcase and headed to leave your apartment. You made Xiaojun wait in the car and hurriedly left, afraid you might bump into Lucas.

Your heart felt heavier and heavier as you got closer to the airport terminals. A part of you wanted to stay and run back to Jaehyun, but the memories of the ballroom and the media made you walk faster towards the gates. You told yourself that you can start over if you just follow Xiaojun. You can meet new people and start a new life where it doesn’t involve ruining the career of the man you love.

———

• This was rather short but still angsty. This isn’t soft hours, it’s sad hours *cue the evil cackling* •

• Stream BOOM 💥 •

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azure-story-corner · 4 years

Text

Let Me Be Gay for the Bard | Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sound of morning birds woke the young adventurer. He stretched sitting up in his bed with a yawn. “I wonder if the bard will actually show,” he muttered, getting out of the comfortable bed. He stood grabbing his armor off the floor, he spent a good portion of the previous night scrubbing off the blood and guts, the smell now barely noticeable. (Y/N) slipped on his tunic before putting the leather vest on. (Y/N) tightened the final strap as he pushed open the wooden door. “Morning sire,” a maid walking past his room greeted. (Y/N) tilted his head and muttered, “Mornin’.” He walked down to the main floor going to the counter to stock up on supplies before leaving. To his surprise the bard sat at the counter, flirting with the woman behind the counter.

(Y/N) took a seat next to him and looked at the brunette. “Morning bard, surprised to actually see you awake,” he commented. “Good Morning to you too, (Y/N). Thought you could get rid of me so easily?” Jaskier asked, his eyes looking at the (H/C) haired male.

“No, more surprised you would be willing to get up so early, since I assumed you had spent most of the night having fun,” (Y/N) stated a sly smirk on his face. “Could I get a weeks worth of rations?” he asked the lady Jaskier was previously flirting with. The lady nodded and disappeared into the back. “You would be surprised how often Geralt would drag me out of bed before dawn, my lover of the night before clinging to me crying for me not to go,” Jaskier said dramatically. “Ah, yes I am sure they were devastated,” (Y/N) said, shaking his head. “Tell me bard, how long were you by the Witcher’s side?” “For a good five years, I like to say we are great friends by now,” Jaskier stated looking off to the side thinking about his time with Geralt. “Hmm,” the young adventurer responded.

The lady returned with a pack full of food and a few canteens of water. “15 crowns,” she said, setting the pack on the counter. (Y/N) grabbed out a small pouch counting out 15 crowns before handing them to the lady.

“Thank you miss,” he said grabbing the pack and putting it on his back. “Ready bard?” he asked, grabbing his sword and putting it on his back. “Oh yes!” Jaskier said happily grabbing his lute. He looked at the lady, gave a smirk and winked before following (Y/N) out of the inn.

(Y/N) stopped at Novigrad’s stables paying for a fresh horse before the two set out. Once they were out of the gate’s of the city (Y/N) looked at his new companion. “Tell me about yourself, bard,” he asked, leading the horse along the trail. Jaskier looked at (Y/N) before speaking. “Where to start?” he questioned with a hum. “I guess I should tell you my name since you seem to have forgotten it,” he said with a laugh. “I am Julian Alfred Pankratz but I go by Jaskier,” he said, “ I am a bard who enjoys a good adventure.” He looked at the adventurer happily. (Y/N) gave a simple nod in understanding.

“How about you my dear adventurer, what got you started on your journey?” Jaskier asked glancing at the man.

“(Y/N),” the (H/C) haired male said. “Huh?” Jaskier asked, looking at him. “My name is (Y/N),” he said simply looking at the bard. “Oh! Alright (Y/N), what got you started on your journey?” Jaskier asked again.

“Well, I guess the urge to see the world,” (Y/N) said looking at the path ahead. “I grew up in a small village south of here. There wasn’t much to see and I didn’t want to be a smith like my father.” He shrugged not sure what else to say to the bard. A small silence fell between the two men. (Y/N) wasn’t sure what to ask or even to talk about, socializing not being his strong suit. This silence was long enough for Jaskier to start strumming a few notes on his lute. The bard began to play one of his songs, his voice sweet as honey as he began to sing. (Y/N) looked back at the other the sound of his singing taking him a bit by surprise. The (H/C) haired male quietly listened enjoying the sound of another person as he walked. After Jaskier finished the song, (Y/N) looked at him. “You have a wonderful singing voice Jaskier,” he said with a small smile. “Huh? Oh, thank you (Y/N),” Jaskier said with a light flush to his cheeks. “Normally Geralt would have told me to shut up,” he added. “Really? Well, he sure doesn’t understand the talent you have,” (Y/N) stated. The compliment made the bard smile wide. “Well, I am glad you can see that.” (Y/N) smiled, “Well my dear bard, please grace me with your amazing voice and sing me your famous song.” The bard didn’t wait to see if the other man was joking as he began to sing.

“When a humble bard Graced the ride along

With Geralt of Rivia

Along came this song…”

Chapter 1

Next Chapter

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher netflix #fanfiction #Jaskier #jaskier x reader #male!reader #jaskier fanfiction #dandilion #Let me be gay for the bard #gay fanfiction

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reddie-fangirl24 · 4 years

Note

prompt''you cant save me just go'' for reddie pls

NOTE: This is another prompt based on the film The Poseidon Adventure. A ship capsized in the middle of the ocean on New Year’s Eve and a small group of people has to make their way through the ship. I recommend this film! It is so good!

Support me on my Ko-Fi!

“You can’t save me, just go!” Eddie sobbed behind the flooding gate. The water rose higher and higher. Pretty soon it was going to rise over the heads, and eventually the gate, cutting Eddie and Richie off from seeing each other.

Mike splashed up from beneath the water, startling Richie. “There’s a door, but, it’s stuck!”

“Keep trying, Mike! Please?!” Richie begged his friend. His head was getting closer to touching the ceiling. He couldn’t feel a bottom where he was standing, making it harder for him to tread water. That was the same for Eddie’s case who was having trouble treading water. Since he was injured, it hurt most of Eddie’s mobility. Luckily, he garnered strength and fought back.

Mike nodded, vanishing back into the water. Richie returned his attention back to Eddie, placing his hand upon the gateway. “I’m not going anywhere! We are leaving together!”

Eddie clasped the small gate, choking on water. He grasped the cage where Richie’s hand was on the opposite side. He shivered all over. “I love you, Richie!”

“No, this isn’t goodbye! Do you hear me? Not like this!” Richie shook his head furiously at his husband. They didn’t have much time.

“I’m scared!” Eddie whimpered. He thought he was going to see his husband again when the swept him off his feet when that explosion happened. He never wanted these terrifying events to ever be the last few moments they ever spent together. Eddie wanted to grow old with Richie.

Richie looked into his eyes. Water hit his glasses making it harder for him to see. “Listen to me, Eds, the water is going to rise, but I am not going anywhere! You can’t get rid of me! I’ve sawn our hearts together remember? Where you go, I go!”

“Are you really quoting the couple from fucking Titanic?” Eddie laughed. He only had a little space left to see Richie. His head was very close to touching the ceiling.

“Now you’re calling me old?” Richie tried to laugh. Yes, this what they needed. In the most stressful situations, they always joked around, making everything better.

Suddenly, the ship exploded again, dangerously rocking everything around. A piece of the ceiling broke off, narrowly missing Richie’s head. He lost his balance slipping into the water. Nearly losing his glasses, Richie struggled back to the surface. He was not leaving his husband alone. He made a vow.

Swimming back up to the surface, Richie grasped what was left of the gateway. His husband wasn’t there.

“Eddie?” Oh, great. He loses him again. “Eddie!”

Taking a deep breath, Richie swam under the water. He could barely see anything. Not to mention, the cold ocean water stung his eyes. Punching at the gate, Richie banged at it screaming, trying to tare it down. It was no use. His lungs fighting for air, Richie returned to the surface, clinging to the pipes.

“No! No! Eddie!” Richie cried, slapping at the water. Not again. He almost lost him once. This couldn’t happen again. Not for real this time.

Crying, Richie leaned against the cage which was now flooded over. The ship was slowly meeting its doom, sinking into the ocean.

He was alone, trembling in the water which continued to rise. He had no idea what had happened to the others. Probably found a way out by now.

This should never have happened. No, he was not going to blame Mike for taking them on this trip for a New Year’s Adventure. And nobody expected that wave to capsize the ship. It was his fault for taking his eyes off Eddie for one moment. All this could have been prevented if he paid attention.

If Eddie was dead, then he was going to stay here. To die.

A splash and two people gasping for air caught his attention. Crying, Richie turned around to see what it was.

It was Mike holding up Eddie out of the water. He was coughing out the water, trying to open his eyes.

“Eddie!” Richie lunged into his arms, hugging and kissing him. Briefly, they fell under the water. Hugging was so difficult when you were trying to tread at the same time. Holding onto a pipe with one hand, Richie held Eddie closely to him, instructing him to breathe.

“Are you okay, baby?” Richie was so happy that he started crying again. He kissed him more than a hundred times.

Coughing once more, Eddie held onto Richie like a lifeline. “I’m sorry I scared you! Mike rescued me when the ship...”

“Hey, what did I tell you about being sorry? You’re here, aren’t you!”

Eddie’s lips trembled. “I love you, Richie!” And they kissed. It was long overdue that was for sure, ever since this journey began.

Mike got their attention. Knowing Eddie and Richie, they let things go to the extremes. “You guys, I hate to break this up, but we need to get out of here. Now!”

#Reddie #The Poseidon Adventure #reddie fanfiction #Mike Hanlon #angst #reddie angst #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #love #husbands #it chapter 2 #it movie

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the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 22

Turning of the Tides

Warnings: Swearing, unimaginable fluff

Word count: ~8500

Masterlist

Read on AO3

The night after your adventure in Lagras, Dutch takes Arthur, John, Bill and Lenny out to deal with Bronte. Hosea tries desperately to change his mind, but to no avail. As the group rides out of camp, he shakes his head.

You watch them leave, feeling worried. Bronte will surely be heavily guarded and then there’s the possibility of city cops. Grimshaw assigns you to guard duty for the afternoon.

As you stand by the gates of Shady Belle, you listen to the forest. A horse stomps its way towards you from the direction of the house and you turn to see Molly riding a small dun horse. You can tell from her eyes she’s been crying. She and Dutch fought again when he returned last night and most of the day she drank heavily.

“Ms. O’Shea,” you say. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you worry about me!” she snaps, pausing her horse. “You get to leave with Arthur whenever you want, but anyone sees me set foot out of here and everyone loses their minds!”

“Molly, the city is dangerous right now, I really don’t think-”

“I don’t care what you think! I’m going and you can’t stop me!” She kicks her horse into a gallop and leaves. You stare after her, worried.

Charles approaches you, prepared to take the night shift. You hand him the repeater and go into camp. Spotting Hosea and Abigail at the table, you sit down, interrupting their conversation.

“Molly’s leaving,” you state.

“We know,” Hosea says sadly. “We tried talking to her, but she don’t wanna listen to us.”

“She just needs some time,” Abigail says. “Dutch ain’t been too kind to her lately. Everyone needs a break from this place sometimes. She’ll come back.”

The three of you fall silent for a moment. “Y/N, I’m glad you came over,” Hosea says. “Wanted to talk to you about this bank job.”

“I didn’t think I would be involved,” you say.

“Well, you’re not yet. But in order to do this right, we need to create a diversion away from the bank. I figure you, Abigail and myself will do that. We’ll go in, looking like city folks. I figure we plant a dud stage and set it off with dynamite.”

Abigail chews on her lip. “We’ll have to make sure no one sees us with the dynamite.”

“That’s easy. We’ll take the stage we stole and put dynamite inside before leaving. You two act as lookouts while I light it and we walk away before anyone figures out what we’re doing. If all goes according to plan, no one will suspect a thing and we can sneak out.”

“I don’t know, Hosea,” you say. “Seems like a lot of our plans the past few months haven’t gone too well for us.”

“This one will, Y/N. Just have some faith.” Hosea pats your hand and stands up. “Just think about it, hmm?”

You nod and he leaves, lighting his pipe. Abigail stirs in her seat, almost as though searching for something to say.

“So you and Arthur are getting pretty close?” she says.

“Yeah. He’s, well, let’s just say when I first met him, I didn’t know how much of a romantic he was.”

She laughs. “He’s always been like that. The carin’ sort. I just wish John…” she sighs heavily.

“He’s getting better though, isn’t he? I’ve seen him with Jack more.”

“He is, but I still have to talk him into it. It’s like he can’t make up his mind about the boy, and yet Jack looks up to him so.”

“He’ll come around. John may not be the brightest man here, but he knows what’s right.”

“I suppose. Well, I better go see to that boy.”

She gets up and walks into the house. Javier sits by the fire with Uncle, but they’re both quiet. You see Karen stumbling about on the edges of camp, a bottle swaying from her hand. Sighing, you get up and decide to head to bed, hoping you can sleep without Arthur by your side.

By morning, all the men except for Arthur and John returns. Lenny tells you and Abigail they stayed out after Bronte was dealt with. Dutch seems irritable, but he doesn’t seem to notice the absence of Molly. You approach him as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Dutch,” you say. “I wanted to let you know that Molly-”

“I don’t want to hear about Ms. O’Shea right now,” he grumbles. “I cannot worry about her, I got too much goin’ on.” He stomps away towards the house, stopping near Hosea.

Midafternoon comes and Arthur and John finally return. John bids him farewell and heads off towards the gazebo where Abigail is sitting with Jack. Arthur rubs his jaw, his stubble nearly returned to normal. He sees you and walks over.

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Arthur. You okay? Surprised you didn’t come home last night.”

He sighs and hides his eyes with his hat. Something is troubling him.

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe that would be good. Let’s go somewhere else, I don’t wanna be in this camp anymore.”

He leads you over to the horses and you mount Rannoch, feeling worried. Arthur

doesn’t speak as you walk and you don’t pressure him. He takes you in the direction of Rhodes and you recognize the familiar path leading to Clemens Point. Stopping in the clearing, you look around at the familiar area. After dismounting, he heads towards the lake, still not speaking.

You stand next to him as he gazes out across the burning lake and take his hand. “What’s going on, honey?” you ask.

He sighs and sits down, leaning against the large tree. You do the same, your shoulders touching.

“Well, we got to Bronte just fine. Slippery snake tried to weasel his way out, but Dutch took him to the swamp, same place that big ol’ gator tried to get us. He killed him, but in… in a bad way.”

He explains how Dutch had drowned Bronte and then fed him to the gators. The violence of it seems to shock him.

“I ain’t known Dutch a long time,” you say, “but that don’t seem like him.”

“No, it ain’t. I been with him 20 years, never seen him do nothing like that. He’s killed a lot of folk, sure. Who of us hasn’t? But feedin’ a man to a damn gator, I don’t know many people who deserve that. And it was just the way he looked at Bronte. Almost like… like he wanted what Bronte had and hated him for it. I’m not makin’ any sense.”

“No, Arthur, you are. I’m just… It just seems like ever since that trolley job, he’s changed. Been so angry. The way he talked to you the other night. I don’t know, he’s even been lookin’ at me funny, like I made him mad or somethin’.”

“Don’t know how you could have. You should hear the way Pearson talks about ya. Almost expectin’ him to propose to you any day now.”

“Arthur, you pig!” you laugh and smack his arm. He chuckles and pulls you into a one-armed hug.

“Come on, let’s go to Rhodes,” he says.

“What for? You think it’s safe after Sean?”

“Yeah I think so. Most people involved with that got killed and it’s been long enough. I was thinkin’ we could maybe play some black jack, have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You both head into Rhodes as the sun sets, relieved that no one seems to recognize Arthur. He stops in the store to buy a few things, and he tells you to find a new book. You see one titled “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”, and place it on the counter next to Arthur’s items. Nodding approvingly, he pays for it with his other things.

Afterwards, he guides you down the street, offering you his arm. He keeps smirking at you, making you suspicious.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nothin’. Just happy to be out here with you is all.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not believing a word of it. Just as you’re about to approach the front of the hotel, Arthur stops and pushes you against the wall of the building. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when his lips are on yours, his body pressed against you.

He pulls away slowly. “Sorry, darlin’. Just… felt like I needed to do that.”

Blushing, you giggle. “You’re funny, Arthur, but what are you doing? You can kiss me whenever you want, why now?”

He smiles. “Like you said, I can kiss ya whenever I want.” His thumb traces your cheek gently, making your heart flutter.

“You’re real funny, Mr. Morgan.”

“And you’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, softer this time. He sighs and pulls away.

“Thought we were here to play black jack?” you open your eyes, your hands on his shoulders.

“Yes we are.” He offers you his arm again and leads you up the stairs towards the black jack table. Before you have a chance to pull out your money, he lays down your bet. As the dealer begins handing out cards, you notice Arthur’s been holding your hand since the moment you sat down. Something’s going on with him, but you’re not sure what.

You play for nearly an hour before Arthur decides he’s done for the night. He takes you to the main floor and buys dinner. Over the meal, he’s become oddly quiet. You try to pick up a conversation, but he doesn’t seem interested. Figuring he’s just tired or worried about Dutch, you suggest getting a room for the night, to which he agrees.

He gets up and pays for a room, beckoning for you to follow him. He leads you to a room in the back with a bed no wider than the one you share in Shady Belle. Shrugging, you sit down, Arthur next to your side. He’s still quiet and he seems to be lost in his head. You extend your hand and gently grab his face, turning it to you.

“Just you and me here now,” you say and kiss him. He sighs and kisses you back. Your hand wanders down to his shirt and you undo the first button.

“Not tonight, darlin’,” he says, grabbing your hand. You pull back and look into his face, which is hard and unreadable.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No. Just… not in the mood tonight. Ya mind if we just go to sleep? Plannin’ on an early morning.”

“Why? What’s going on tomorrow?”

“Nothin’. I’ll explain in the mornin’. Just get some rest.”

Something in you wants to push further, but his eyes seem sad. You nod and unlace your boots, lying down. He lies down as well and you slide into the crook of his arm. His hand rests gingerly on your shoulder, but it feels as though he’s forcing himself to tolerate your touch.

In the morning, you wake up alone. You look around but Arthur’s nowhere to be seen. His hat’s resting on the dresser under the window. After sitting up, you grab your knees. Something about the way he was acting last night when you were alone seems strange, completely unlike him. A strange feeling settles into your stomach.

The door opens and Arthur walks in, his hair damp. He offers you a brief and uncharacteristic good morning, which you quietly return.

“Come on, get dressed,” he says hastily.

“Where are we going?”

“Huntin’ trip.”

“Okay, but where?”

He looks at you before answering. “West Elizabeth, I reckon.”

He quickly leaves the room, letting you get dressed in privacy. You can’t shake off the feeling that he’s irritated with you. You try thinking back, wondering what you may have done or said, but coming up with nothing. He had been so sweet when you’d come into town, but after dinner he acted like he didn’t want you around.

You leave the room, still conflicted and meet him by the bar. He silently beckons you to follow him out to the horses.

“Figure we can take a stage,” he says, his voice flat.

“You sure? Why don’t we take the train? It’ll take half the time.”

“Because I want to,” he says quickly. He doesn’t go further as he leads you to the stage, the driver napping on his seat. Arthur dismounts and raps the carriage. “Hey!” he calls out when the driver doesn’t respond. He wakes up with a small snort.

“Huh, what?”

“You mind takin’ us to Strawberry?” Arthur says.

The driver rubs his eyes and yawns. “Sure, get in. Gonna be a trip.”

Arthur opens the stage door and gestures you inside, his face stony. Bowing your head, you climb in. Arthur takes the seat opposite of you, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. You clutch your hands as the stage begins moving; the driver urging the horses on.

The next few hours pass in almost complete silence. The nasty feeling in your stomach has grown. You begin to wonder if Arthur is planning on ending your relationship.

I told you, a nasty voice says. No one could ever love you.

Leaning back, you look out the window to the passing world beyond, wishing the voice would fall silent. It doesn’t.

He’s come to the same realization everyone eventually comes to. You’re not worth it, you’re not worthy of being loved. He’s going to break it off with you and forget this ever happened. He’s going to run back to Mary and they’ll be happy.

A tear finds its way out of the corner of your eye and you angrily wipe it away. If Arthur notices, he says nothing. You wish he would.

He doesn’t care about your pain, you stupid woman, that awful voice says again. No one has ever cared, why would he be any different? You were a fool for believing he loved you.

You suddenly wish you were alone in the stage, alone to show your weakness. Arthur still sits rigidly in the seat opposite you, his eyes hidden and his hands clasped. You lean your head against the wall near the window as more tears betray you. Why is he taking you to West Elizabeth to break up with you? Why couldn’t he have done it already? You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep as the horrible voice continues to whisper to you.

Arthur shakes you awake abruptly. “We’re here,” he says in a hollow voice. You sigh and follow him out of the stage, wishing he’d just get this over with already. You wonder, as you mount Rannoch, what you will do when you get back to camp. Should you leave? That would be the wrong choice. Just because Arthur’s breaking up with you doesn’t mean you have to lose the rest of your family. The thought of losing touch with Hosea, the other girls, even Grimshaw is too painful.

Arthur hops onto Artemis and wordlessly leads you east towards Big Valley. When the expanse of green lays ahead of you, he stops. “Figure we can hunt for a few hours,” he says. You nod, doing your best to keep your face blank. You kick Rannoch into a run without waiting for him and break out of the trees, the wind flying through your hair and the sun bathing your face. A sense of freedom comes over you as a herd of pronghorns dashes through the wildflowers. You pull Rannoch to a stop on the north end of the valley. Ahead of you, a large stag with proud antlers lifts his head from the river and runs towards the trees. The sight brings the memory of Arthur telling you about his strange dreams of stags, and the hollow feeling returns.

For the next few hours, you keep your distance from Arthur, hunting the pronghorn and even a moose to keep the horrible thoughts at bay. The sun’s beginning to set behind the giant mountain on the western border of the valley and Arthur stops Artemis near you as you finish skinning a pronghorn doe.

“Hey, let’s go to the lake,” Arthur says, leaning on his saddle horn. You look up and he offers you a small smile, his eyes bright again. You swallow and nod, your chest still heavy with doubts. After flinging the pelt across your horse, you get up and follow him down the trail into the forest.

“You’re real quiet,” he calls back to you, turning in his saddle to see you.

You’ve been buried in your own head and you look up to see him staring at you. Is that worry on his face?

“Oh, yeah,” you mumble, dipping your head again. You’re convinced he doesn’t want to hear anything going on in your head anymore.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he says, turning back to the trail. “I sure do like hearin’ your voice though.”

He’s lying, the voice says. You don’t respond, patting Rannoch’s neck.

Arthur stops on the trail, Lake Owanjilla lying ahead. The western sky has turned a brilliant pink, the ridges of the mountains burn gold. If you didn’t feel so miserable, you’d find it breathtaking.

“Here’s a good spot,” he mutters and dismounts.

“Here we go,” you mumble quietly so he doesn’t hear you. He leads you to the edge of the lake, hanging over the water. A clear, cold stream rushes into it on your left. You stand next to Arthur, awaiting the blow.

“Sure is a lot of beauty in this world,” he says, looking across the lake. An owl somewhere in the trees hoots. “You helped me see that.”

“I’ve done nothing, Arthur,” you say. You stare out across the water too.

“You’re wrong, darlin’,” he says. He turns his body to you and you look at him. He grabs your hands and smiles softly. “Ya know, the best thing I ever done was go into that sheriff’s in Blackwater, lookin’ for bounties. It lead me to you, even if my intentions were selfish. You done so much for me since I met you, I… I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

He places a palm on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“I didn’t do anything,” you repeat, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“You taught me what love really feels like,” he says. “With Mary, there was always somethin’ I had to do to earn her love. You give it freely, and yours is so much more pure and powerful. It’s not that I didn’t love Mary when I was younger, it’s just that with you, it don’t matter no more. I love you more than anything and I… I can’t imagine a future without you.”

“What are you saying, Arthur?” you ask. You’d been expecting him to tell you anything other than what he’s saying now. Arthur takes his hands away and reaches into his satchel and he kneels down. Your heart stops as he shows you his upturned fist.

“I’m askin’ you if you’ll marry me, sweetheart?” he opens his hand and shows you a ring, an emerald set into the gold band. Your knees feel shaky as you begin to cry, your heart feeling as though it might burst. Arthur sighs and stands up, hiding the ring in his fist.

“Listen, darlin’, if you- if you don’t feel the same, I-.”

You cut him off. “Yes, Arthur. I will marry you.”

His face breaks into a massive smile and he grabs your hand, gently sliding it onto your finger. You stare at it for a moment before looking up at him. His own eyes seem watery and he pulls you into a tight hug, letting you bury your face into his chest, the horrible voice finally falling silent. His scent fills your nose and you breathe in deeply.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he sniffs as he rests his cheek against your head.

You look up and kiss him, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’ll always love you, Arthur Morgan.”

He grips your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. “I feel like the luckiest man alive.”

“I’m not exactly a prize, Arthur,” you joke.

“You are to me.”

You both watch silently as a massive eagle circles over the lake, finally dipping down to the water and plucking a fish with its talons.

“Come on,” Arthur says, patting your back. “Let’s get a fire going.” He guides you over to a wide spot of grass and begins a fire while you set up the tent. You sit down next to him and he immediately pulls you into his lap. You smile as the big cowboy cradles your head into his neck.

“How come you looked so miserable this mornin’, sweetheart?” he asks.

You huff a small laugh. “Ah, you’d think it was stupid.”

“Nah, I could never think that.”

“Well, I thought… I thought you were going to break things off this morning. You were so distant and unlike yourself.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I was scared.”

“Scared?” you look up at him. “I could never see you scared. How many times you been shot at?”

“This was different, darlin’,” he kisses your forehead. “I was terrified you were gonna say no.”

You pause, trying to think of a response.

“Why didn’t you?” he suddenly asks. “I thought after everythin’ you been through, marriage would be the last thing you’d ever want.”

You listen to his heartbeat for a moment. “Because I love you, Arthur. It’s not that I can’t imagine a future with you, it’s just that the possibility of that future ever happening is impossible.”

“Me too. But what I meant was why? You been married before, and we both know how awful it was. Why you willin’ to try again?”

“This is completely different from the last time, Arthur.” You turn so your back’s against his chest. He clasps his hands on your stomach. “Last time, none of it happened with my consent. He was a complete stranger to me. This time couldn’t be more different. A chance to have something normal for once.”

“Well, I’m glad you said yes,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know what I woulda done if you didn’t.”

You smile and pat his hand. As night falls properly, you cook dinner and then Arthur takes you inside the tent. He makes love to you in a way he never has before. He worships your body, every flaw, every scar, every inch, and you do the same with him, leaving no part of him untouched.

The next morning, you wake to find Arthur sitting up and writing in his journal. You smile at him through tired eyes and roll over, placing your head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Mm, Arthur.”

You sit in silence, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body, his fingers causing your skin to erupt in goose bumps. After a while, he pats your shoulder.

“We ought to get back to camp, sweetheart. Figure the others will wanna know.”

“Know what?” you look up at him.

He smiles, you see his slightly jagged tooth, which you secretly love. “Know your answer.”

You sit up, still looking at him. “The others knew you were gonna ask me?”

“Of course. Needed some advice. To be honest, when I first knew I wanted to marry you, I thought it would be too soon. We’re in a big mess right now, Pinkertons breathin’ down our necks. However, I don’t really see things gettin’ better any time soon.”

You nod, grabbing his hand. He squeezes yours.

“Hosea made me realize that if I felt ready to ask you, then it meant it was time.”

You smile and lean in, kissing him. His arms loop around you, holding you close and warming you against the morning’s chill.

“I’m glad you did. Can I admit something to you?” you say.

“Of course, darlin’. I want ya to know you can tell me anythin’.”

“I believed for a long time that I was gonna be alone forever. I’d never have anyone to depend on, never have someone I could trust the way I trust you.”

He kisses your forehead. “Well, I’m glad I could prove you wrong.”

You nuzzle into his neck, adoring the familiar scent of pine and leather that seems to emit from his skin. His hands rub your back gently and he begins to hum a tune you recognize. One of the horses snorts and you remember you can’t stay here forever, as much as you’d like to.

“Come on, cowboy,” you pat his chest. “Like you say, they’ll be wantin’ to hear.”

The two of you pack up camp quickly after a brief breakfast and some coffee. You ask Arthur if he wants to take the stage back to Saint Denis or Rhodes, but he says he wants to just ride back on the horses.

“That’ll take almost the whole day,” you say.

“I know, but it gives me the chance to be alone with you a little longer.”

You can’t help but smile, riding side by side with him. You adore the soft core he hides beneath his tough exterior.

It’s late afternoon by the time you see the trees surrounding the path that leads to Shady Belle. You pat Rannoch, he and Artemis are heavily laden with game and pelts that you’ve hunted on your way down.

“Who’s there?” Javier calls.

“Just us,” Arthur replies. He hitches up and you do the same. Just as you’re about to grab the pelts from Rannoch, three figures walk towards you. Dutch, Hosea, and Grimshaw march your way, looking as though they’ve just shared a joke.

“Well?” Dutch raises his arms expectantly. Arthur steps beside you, staring at them.

“Are we to call you Mrs. Morgan now?” Hosea asks, a proud smile stretched across his face.

You blush and grab Arthur’s hand. “Well, I suppose. We’re not married yet though.”

Grimshaw puts her hands on her hips and marches over to you. Expecting her to start yelling for disappearing again, you await her blow. Instead, she quickly grabs your left hand.

“I wanna make sure this man’s done right by you,” she says, inspecting the ring on your finger. She seems to approve and releases your hand, smiling. “You done good, Mr. Morgan.”

“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw.”

Dutch chuckles deeply and turns back to camp.

“Everyone. Everyone!” he hollers. Several of the gang come up to hear what he has to say. Arthur hooks your hand around his arm. You feel nervous, never having accepted compliments well.

“Tonight is a night for celebration! Arthur and Y/N are going to be married!”

Mary-Beth and Tilly clap, laughing loudly, Karen hollers out excitedly. Several of the men announce their congratulations, coming up to clap you and Arthur on the back. It makes you blush.

“Well, let’s celebrate properly then!” Uncle says, going to sit down by the fire. “Javier! Come play us somethin’!”

Despite being on guard duty, Javier complies. He sits down by the fire, his guitar in hand. “I know just the one to play tonight.”

Lenny and Mary-Beth grab you and Arthur, guiding you to the big log directly in front of the fire. You sit down, your hand still looped around Arthur’s arm as Javier tests a few strings. He finally clears his throat and begins playing. You recognize the first notes of the song you had sung for the gang back in Clemens Point, The Sweetheart Tree. It makes you smile wider as Arthur rocks gently back and forth.

When the song’s over, Jack runs over with strings of flowers in his hand. “I made these for you and Uncle Arthur!” he says, holding up the flower necklaces. Arthur chuckles and takes them, thanking him and putting one over himself and the other around your neck. Jack smiles proudly. “So she’s gonna be my aunt?”

“That’s right, kid,” Arthur says as he drapes an arm around your shoulder. Jack gives a small “yippee” and skips off. Arthur kisses your temple and gets up, heading off to Pearson’s wagon where several boxes of alcohol have been laid out. He’s immediately swarmed by Lenny, John, Bill and Karen. Hosea sits down close to you as Javier finishes his song. Grimshaw takes a seat, along with Mary-Beth.

“I’m real proud of you,” Hosea says, lighting his pipe. “Must have taken a lot of courage to say yes, after your last marriage.”

You smile and look into the fire. “It didn’t, actually. I wasn’t scared when he asked me. Surprised, but not scared.”

“Ah, you two were meant to be,” Mary-Beth says breathily.

“It’ll be good for him,” Grimshaw says. “Hopefully you can help him settle down a little. Give him something to keep him centered.”

“Oh, I doubt even I’ll be able to tame him,” you chortle. “Always been a man of the wild.”

Javier and Uncle pick up a song together and several of the others come over to join in. Hosea looks at you with a clever gleam in his eye.

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The big bank job in town.”

“That’s tomorrow?” you say, a little louder than you had meant.

“Ah, must have forgotten to tell you. Sorry about that. Anyways, you, me and Abigail will take the stage coach ahead of the others and plant it a few blocks from the bank. You’ll need to wear something nice, make you look like an upper class lady.”

“Okay,” you say. You’ll have to ask one of the other girls if you can borrow something, not having any dresses aside from the one you wore to that awful party at the mayor’s mansion.

Dutch walks over, attracted by the mention of the bank job. “Now Hosea, before you get too excited about this, we need to smooth out the plan. Got a few wrinkles in it that are worryin’ me.”

“We will tomorrow, Dutch. Let us enjoy this night. Like you said, we’re celebratin’.”

As Javier begins playing a new tune, you look fondly over at Hosea. You call his attention.

“I know it might not be for a while,” you say as he looks at you. “But you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a proper father. Would… would you walk me down the aisle when Arthur and I get married?”

He smiles widely. “It would be my honor, Y/N.”

You grin at him, thanking him.

The party lasts for several hours. You and Arthur are forced to tell the story of how he asked multiple times. Some of the members, mainly Karen, Bill and Pearson drink themselves to the point of passing out. Arthur brings you a bottle of Caribbean rum, which you’ve never tried before. After half a bottle, you feel it getting to your head. You and Tilly both drunkenly try to play Domino with poor results. Lenny stands by the table, laughing as you drop a tile and try unsuccessfully to pick it up. Arthur stumbles over and screams, “Leeennaaaaaaayyyyy!”

“Oh God, Arthur!” Lenny hollers back. “Not again!”

Arthur guffaws as he stands next to you, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand. You give up on the tile and stand up, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“Think…” you hiccup. “Think it’s time for bed, Mr. Morgan. I ain’t seen straight for an hour.”

“Okay, Mrs. Morgan,” he slurs, bending down to kiss you. You grab his hand and lead him towards the house, bidding the others good night. The walk seems much harder than usual as you and Arthur stumble over one another. When you’re finally in the house, he starts grabbing you, making you laugh.

“Room first,” you mumble. By the time you get upstairs and into your room, he practically rips your clothes off. You don’t even make it to the bed as Arthur lays you down, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. You rip his shirt open, glad to find he neglected to put on his union suit this morning as you run your fingers through his chest hair. He growls and nips your shoulder. As you reach down to remove his gun belt, you hear him mumble.

“I love you, Y/N Morgan. Lord knows how much I love you.”

You wake up with a terrible hangover. Arthur groans next to you on the floor, rubbing his head.

“God, I wanna die,” he mumbles.

“Me too. Why’d we drink so much?” you say. You’re about to roll over to kiss him when he shoots up, drapes a blanket around his hips and runs out on the balcony. You hear him retching so you heave yourself to your feet, dressing. Arthur comes back in, wiping his mouth clean, and begins to dress as well.

“Come on, cowboy,” you grab his hand. “Let’s try clearing our heads.”

You both stumble down the stairs, still holding hands. You wince as the morning sun hits your eyes. Arthur leads you over to the fire and pours you a coffee. The hot drink seems to do little to clear the headache and your stomach clenches painfully. You throw out your coffee and dash to the river just in time to vomit what’s left of the alcohol in your system.

Arthur walks up behind you, finishing his drink. When you stand up straight, he pulls you into his arms.

“I gotta go speak with Dutch and Hosea, figure out this bank job,” he says. You nod into his chest, your head still pounding. He guides you back over to Pearson’s wagon, grabbing you a canteen of water. You greedily drink as much as you can, then he does the same.

As Arthur heads to the house where Dutch and Hosea are talking, you head over to the crates where the other girls sit. You feel a little better as you sit down, picking up some sewing.

“So you two gonna get married quickly or you gonna be engaged a while?” Karen asks, her eyes bloodshot. She looks worse than you feel.

“I don’t know. We ain’t talked about it yet.”

“What about kids?” Tilly asks. “You gonna try havin’ ‘em as soon as you’re married or wait?”

This question causes you to pause. Arthur’s the only one who knows you’re barren. You’re not in the mood to disclose that to the others just yet.

“We’re probably gonna wait. Who knows what our situation might be like for the next little while? Ain’t the best idea to have kids until we know it’s a good time.”

“Well, be prepared for a lot of hard work,” Abigail says as she walks over with her coffee. “Much as I love my boy, it’s a thankless job.”

“Ain’t that sort of the point?” you ask. “I mean, why’s a kid gotta be grateful to his parents just for bein’ born? Ain’t like they asked for it.”

“Still,” she says. “You’d think after all I done for him, he’d at least be grateful.”

“Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful,” you say, returning to your sewing. “And they don’t see the world that way. I’m not sayin’ you should spoil the boy or make his life difficult, but it ain’t fair of you to expect so much from him, as much as you’d like him to.”

“You ain’t got kids,” Abigail finishes her coffee. “You don’t understand.” She walks away, muttering something beneath her breath.

The next few hours, you do chores around camp and your head clears. Hosea approaches you and Abigail in the middle of the day, suggesting you get ready. She heads off without a word; you ask one of the girls if you can borrow a dress. Arthur comes into the room just as you’re changing.

“You ready for this, darlin’?” he asks.

“Guess as much as I’ll ever be. Does Dutch know what he wants to do after this?”

“I dunno, he keeps talking about goin’ to Tahiti or Australia. I honestly don’t know the appeal of either one of ‘em, but I guess the Pinkertons won’t find us there.”

“What about heading back west like he talked about?”

Sighing, he sits down. “I don’t think that’s happenin’, darlin’. Wherever the train goes, the Pinkertons can get us.”

He begins changing into a suit you’ve never seen before. He tucks a blue puff tie into his patterned blue vest.

“Where’d you get that, Arthur? The suit?”

“Oh, Trelawney made me buy it for that river boat job. Do I look okay?” He fidgets with the buttons of his coat sleeve. You walk up and adjust his tie, smiling.

“You look very handsome. Not at all like some country man.”

“Well, I hope not. Now you know what to do?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes, once we set off the dynamite, Hosea’s gonna take us to the north end of Saint Denis, we’ll grab a wagon and meet you all back here.”

“Hopefully, much richer than we are now,” he smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You be careful out there, darlin’. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. But promise me you’ll be careful? You’re guaranteed to be getting shot at.”

“Awe, I’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Micah will get shot.”

You giggle and push him out the door. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

As you walk outside, Dutch calls to Arthur. “You got everything?”

“Think so,” he says, straightening his sleeve.

“So,” Hosea says as he climbs onto the stage. You and Abigail get into the back. “We rob ourselves a bank and within six weeks, we’re living life anew a tropical idyll spending the last of our days as banana farmers?”

“Exactly,” Dutch says from the back of the Count. Arthur, John, Micah, Lenny and Javier mount their horses as Bill and Charles sit on one of the wagons.

“Let’s get out of this godforsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!” Hosea yells out. The others holler and agree, Micah forces his horse to rear up. You suddenly get a flashback of Bison Point when Dutch and so many of the others had left in much the same manner to rob the ferry. A bad feeling settles into your stomach.

Hosea whips the horses and the stage charges out to the front of the line, causing you and Abigail to sway inside.

“This is it, gentlemen!” Dutch calls out behind the stage. “The very last one!”

“Where have we heard that one before?” John responds.

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about this.”

“‘Real’. How I detest that word,” Dutch says. “So devoid of imagination!”

“How soon we shippin’ out?” Micah asks.

Dutch begins talking about how he has a plan to get a boat organized and go down to South America.

“What about the money in Blackwater?” Micah demands.

“Forget that, it’s gone!” Dutch hollers. “You all talk like it’s the only goddamn money in the world. We’re gonna take it from the people who take it from us. This is a big city bank!”

“Right,” John shoots back. “With guards, security, police.”

“Hosea has done his reconnaissance, we’ve been over this.” He goes over the plan again, sounding frustrated yet determined. By the time he’s done, the stage is passing Calliga Hall.

“Hosea!” Dutch calls. “You know the drill. Any problems, meet us back in camp!”

Hosea whips the horses on, the stage speeds up and drives into the city. Hosea guides it carefully down the cobbled streets, navigating around other wagons and riders. He stops it on a narrow street a few blocks from the bank. You and Abigail get out as he climbs down.

“Alright, ladies,” he says quietly, clapping his hands. “Each of you stand on one end of the stage, keep an eye out while I light her up.”

You walk with him towards the back of the stage and stand on the sidewalk, looking around for potential witnesses. Hosea reaches into the back lockbox and pulls out a tied bundle of dynamite. He quickly places it inside the stage.

“Hold on,” you say, spotting a man and woman walking across the street at the end of it. Hosea pauses and watches them. Luckily, they take no notice of your party and walk on, disappearing around the building. “Okay, clear.”

“We’re good on this end, Hosea,” Abigail says.

“Alright, act quickly, ladies. Once I light this thing, we only have a few seconds to get down that alley and be gone.” He gestures to the alley between the two buildings the stage sits in front of.

“We’re ready, Hosea,” you say.

He lights a match and touches it to the wick, which begins sparking.

“Now!” Hosea whispers. You and Abigail hastily follow him down the alley, trying to get away from the stage as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. As you reach the center of it, the stage explodes, the rubble clattering around the street. It’s immediately followed by screams, yells, horses neighing, a whistle blows.

“Ladies, I think we’re done here,” Hosea says. He ushers you both down the alley in front of him, heading down towards the other street. You’re hoping the others are having as much luck as you when someone painfully grabs your arm. You’re suddenly slammed into the brick wall and Agent Milton, the Pinkerton, points the barrel of his pistol inches from your face. You hear Abigail get pushed into the wall and look over to see Ross pinning her. Several other Pinkerton agents and policemen stand behind him.

Hosea lifts his hands, shocked, and is about to speak when Milton interrupts him. “Mr. Matthews! We received word you and your gang of delinquents would be here, but we doubted you’d really be so foolish to rob the bank. Looks like our informant was right.”

“Mr. Milton,” Hosea says, his eyes sparkling cleverly. “We have no business here other than to enjoy the day in this lovely city.”

“And the fact that you just left the street where a wagon exploded is nothing more than a mere coincidence? I doubt that.”

Hosea takes a step towards him. “Mr. Milton, we’ve no quarrel with you. We are on the verge of leaving, we’ll never be your problem again after today.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Mr. Matthews! I’ve given you all how many chances to go and live as better men, but you’ve done nothing but laugh in my face.”

Milton pushes his hand against your throat, pulling the hammer of his pistol down. You grab his hand on your throat, Arthur’s ring glinting on your finger as Milton’s finger twitches on the trigger.

“Wait!” Hosea says, stepping close to him. “Take me, not her. Give her and the other girl a five minute head start, I’ll go with you quietly.”

“Hosea, no!” you choke.

“Quiet, Y/N!” he says, not breaking eye contact with Milton.

“You’ll show me where the others are?” Milton demands. “No lies?”

“No lies. Just promise me you’ll let these two have a chance.”

Milton hesitates. His finger brushes against the trigger, his hand on your throat tightens painfully. Finally, he lifts the hammer and points the gun at Hosea.

“You heard the man, Ross. Let the girl go.”

Hosea sighs heavily and keeps his hands up as Milton approaches him. He grabs him by the collar and points the barrel at his head, standing behind him. Milton glares at you.

“We had a deal, Ms. Y/L/N. You have five minutes, don’t think I won’t try to find you.”

“Hosea, no!” you scream as Abigail grabs your hand and yanks you away. You try fighting her off.

“Get out of here, Y/N!” Hosea calls. “You have a wedding to attend!”

“No!”

Abigail wrenches your arm painfully as she pulls you down the street. “He’ll be fine, Y/N,” she hollers back at you, sounding hysterical. “Hosea always finds a way out.”

You run with her, trying to keep the tears at bay. You look back and find the Pinkertons gone, along with Hosea, although a few policemen mill about, screaming at one another.

Abigail leads you over a few blocks. You don’t pay attention to where she’s taking you, all you know is you’re farther from the bank than before. Just as you hope that Arthur and the others will be okay, you hear a faint gunshot. The sound brings you to a halt and you turn in its direction, a horrible feeling in your gut. The air is suddenly filled with the cracks of guns from the distance, echoing off the buildings. The city has turned to chaos.

You’re just about to charge into the street in the direction of the fight when Abigail grabs your shoulders, pulling you back. A wagon with a policeman standing behind a gatling gun roars past you, the wheel nearly catching your dress.

“We need to get out of here!” Abigail yells as policemen and Pinkertons flood the streets. One of the Pinkertons points to the pair of you, whipping his gun out. Your five minutes are up. Abigail yelps and grabs your hand, dashing off down a thin alley just as the Pinkerton shoots his gun at you, the bullet plunges into the brick wall of a building. The alley winds and leads into a small plaza, a broken fountain sitting in the middle. You see not too far beyond the next street, which is swarming with more policemen as the gunshots continue to ring out.

“I don’t think we can get out!” you scream at Abigail over the blasts. “We should hide! One of the buildings.”

Without thinking, you dash over to a door facing the plaza, kicking it open. An elderly black woman screams, falling backwards onto her kitchen floor. Abigail slams the door shut after you, slightly dulling the ringing of gunfire. The woman doesn’t move and you bend down, trying to wake her, thinking she fainted. She doesn’t respond and you feel her throat, finding no pulse. She must have suffered a heart attack.

You and Abigail quickly inspect the house, finding too many windows for your comfort at the front of it. The back where the old lady died only has one window, a narrow staircase leads to the upper floor.

“Should we go up there?” you whisper. The gunfire still echoes through the city outside.

“No, we might get trapped,” Abigail says. “Let’s just stay here in the kitchen, it’s blocked from the front of the house.”

“Help me move her then,” you say, gesturing to the old woman. You both pick her up and lay her on a couch in the front room. She looks as though she could be napping. Heading back into the kitchen, you both sit on the floor and away from the single window, praying no one will find you.

Several hours have passed, the gun shots have finally stopped. The city lies dark and unusually quiet except for the splashing of the torrential downpour. You would have left the city by now, except constant patrols of Pinkertons and policemen roam the streets. You and Abigail have been checking the front windows overlooking the street every half hour or so, finding no citizens or anyone else. The city must be on lockdown, meaning the others must be in it still. You pray for the thousandth time that everyone’s alright and you’ll see them in a day or two back at Shady Belle.

While waiting, you and Abigail raided the old woman’s closets to find new clothes. You slip on a pair of trousers that look as though they belonged to a teenage boy.

Abigail comes back from checking the front. “Think this is as quiet as it’s gonna get tonight, let’s try sneakin’ out now.”

You sigh and nod. “Sure, this rain should help cover us.”

You sit up, shaking your leg, which has fallen asleep. Once it’s steady, you open the back door leading to the small plaza with the broken fountain. You sneak out, hunching slightly and letting the rain soak you. The plaza’s clear. Just as you’re about to make a break for the other side, something big slams into you. Abigail covers your mouth just as you scream. You both look over and see a familiar face.

“Charles!” you hiss. “What happened?!”

“I’ll explain later,” he mutters. “We need to get out of here. Follow me.” Without another word, he guides you out of the alley and onto the street. He checks constantly as he runs slowly down the street. Through the rain, the form of a wagon appears, two horses patiently hitched to it. You see the words “Saint Denis Police” painted on the side. You point it out to Charles and the three of you run towards it.

Charles opens the door and looks inside, finding nothing but a police man’s hat and coat in it. He’s about to put them on when you slap his shoulder.

“Let me drive us out of here. You’re too recognizable.”

Charles nods and you put on the coat, tucking your hair in underneath the hat. He and Abigail get into the carriage, slamming the door shut. Climbing up, you pray this will work. You click and flick the reins, trotting the horses on. Looking down at your feet, you spot a rifle. You hope you won’t have to use it as you navigate your way down the street.

You spot several policemen and a few groups of Pinkertons wandering the streets, yelling to one another over the rain. One officer beckons to you.

“You find anything?” he hollers.

Putting on your best masculine voice, you respond. “Nothing!”

He nods and continues on his way. You drive onto the large street near the train tracks, passing another police carriage. You sigh heavily as you drive down the bridge, heading away from the city. Once you’re off the bridge, you bring the carriage to a stop and hop down, ripping off the coat and hat. Charles and Abigail get out and you all decide it’s best to travel on foot back to camp.

For the next hour, Charles leads you through the swamp. He doesn’t say a word about the events that transpired, nor do you and Abigail ask. The rain begins to let up just as Shady Belle comes into view.

“Charles!” Karen yells, holding the repeater as she keeps guard. “What the hell happened?”

Charles beckons her to follow as you and Abigail go into camp. Grimshaw, Sadie and the others come into the middle of camp, greeting him expectantly.

“Mr. Smith,” Grimshaw demands. “What has happened? We were expecting you all back hours ago! Where are the others?”

Charles shakes his head sadly. He looks around. Everyone’s staring at him, worried expressions on their faces.

“Hosea and Lenny are dead. The others found their way onto a boat. I… I don’t know if they’ll be coming back.”

#red dead fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #R* Games #rockstar games #Van Der Linde Gang #I'm awkward #second chances

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helisol · 5 years

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ye s, well

it basically came to me like a prophet receiving a vision from an angry god. you know. like brian david gilberts video ideas but with more slow burn.

no really i wrote all this down in my phone’s note app because some nearly coherent things popped up in my head every time i was on the train or bus these last few days.

(after-actually-writing-this disclaimer/note: this is 2000 words of slightly edited rambling about Bagginshield in the Afterlife. i had to put it in a read more.)

so the gist of it

the botfa goes just as in the movie with minor details altered. like bilbo kissing thorin just before he dies which inadvertently causes a ripple in time and space that makes the valar curious of them both. you know. minor stuff.

so bilbo goes back to the shire, the war of the ring goes down, and the hobbit/elf gang sails to valinor at the end. classic stuff, not much alternating of universes here.

but here’s where things turn into the “my city now” meme because DUDE DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT VALINOR AND HOW THE AFTERLIFE WORKS

like, I’m sorry mister jolkien rolkien tolkien, but just putting people into a hall to await being judged like a hospital waiting room? snooze, that’s boring!

so first of all, and you can fight me on this, Yavanna Made The Hobbits And You Can’t Change My Mind.

it just makes sense for her to have been very saddened by the destruction of literally all her work on arda through melkor’s poison, so she made living, growing things that could protect themselves from harm. as opposed to the ents, by the way, which were made by Eru to protect all the other living, growing things. it was a nice gesture of Eru to make those, but not quite what Yavanna wanted or had in mind, i imagine.

as with the dwarves, Eru wasn’t all happy about the existence of another race he didn’t make but you know, whatever, ‘I’ll just let this married couple have their own kids aside from mine, it’s okay’.

so he hands both the dwarves and the hobbits independent thought and free will, but under the condition (and here is where the afterlife stuff comes into play) that Aule and Yavanna be responsible for their mortal creations after their death. meaning that both races have seperate afterlives from the halls of mandos, MEANING THAT ITS COMPLETELY FINE FOR AULE AND YAVANNA TO BE LIKE “oh look honey, these two are so very in love and remind me of us, shan’t we do something about that?”

so. they do something about that. more precisely, they rearrange their afterlife-realms so they’re next to each other and someone with enough willpower could cross through the barrier. because listen, they’re valar, they can do whatever they want just for kicks.

okay so after that tangent lets get back to the meat of the matter: gay dwarves. I know not everyone has read Sansukh, a 500k word mammoth of a fic, and I don’t really intend to copy any of det’s canon, but their version of The Halls of Mahal really inspired me. basically the dwarven afterlife is one big hunk of a mountain/underground city where they’re free to live their days until dagor dagorath doing what they do best in the company of their families and friends; like smithing, crafting, building and other JustDwarrowThings.

meanwhile the hobbit afterlife is Basically The Shire and instead of being given the materials to build things, all the hobbits who go there get to grow plants and do their gardening. they don’t have to- just like none of the dwarves have to craft stuff- since there’s always enough food for everyone, but they are just allowed to do what they do best if they so desire.

now when Bilbo arrived in the undying lands he was still Old As Hell and im sorry to put it this way, he definitely kicked the can after like, a week of living there. not really so undying, them lands, huh. anyway Bilbo bites the dust and LOOK AT THAT he’s suddenly young again, and another LOOK AT THAT he’s standing in a very comfy, but Not Quite Bag End hobbit hole that has a note hung up on the front door. you wouldn’t think gods could have handwriting but hey, again, they’re gods they can do whatever. the note just tells him that yavannah made this place special and just for Bilbo but that there’s another home waiting for him. very cryptic there, lady. he doesn’t leave at first because hey, his family is here. there’s a lot of reunions and celebrating and food because its the fucking hobbit afterlife, what else would you expect

it takes him a few days of Regular Hobbit Life in his new home to realise ‘holy shit, this is so boring’ so what does a Fool of a Took do when things get boring and there’s a note urging him to do something?

HE’S GOING ON AN ADVENTURE

so Bilbo runs through the whole not-shire, meeting all sorts of people he outlived on the way (looking at you, Lobelia), as well as some elves. because elves can definitely just waltz through all the afterlives. they can walk on top of snow, you think they wouldn’t walk around wherever they please in valinor? rip to mankind, but they’re different.

he gets to the furthest reaches of it eventually, and lo and behold, what awaits him but the view of a tall mountain, an invisible barrier and a very flustered Thorin who is at his wits end as to how Bilbo even got here.

now for thorin’s part of the story we’ll have to start after the botfa again. he basically woke up in the darkness like an episode of naked and afraid, and started talking to Aule. his maker, who loves him to bits by the way since he made thorin, just tells him he’s free to go wherever his heart takes him. again with the cryptic messages from the gods.

so thorin, still very self-loathing and bitter because of his actions right before his death, sees this as Mahal’s way of saying ‘please don’t step foot in my halls u disgusting litle creacher’, when really he just meant ‘please do some well deserved self reflecting and then come inside to be with your family, they all miss you terribly’.

after his chat with the maker thorin just spawns in right at the front gate of the mountain and he has a choice to make. go inside or stay outside. and we all know Thorin’s proclivity for drama so he basically spends LITERAL YEARS just living in self imposed solitary confinement.

oh also tiny hc here, thorin was said to have taken “any work offered to him in the towns of men”, and they showed him in a smithy, but personally I believe they meant it when they said “any kind of work”. so basically thorin is a jack of all trades, master of some. he definitely has master-level skills in certain areas though, enough to build a vaguely hobbit-hole shaped house. why is it hobbit hole shaped?

oh right, the part where Thorin is absolutely enamoured with Bilbo.

"Go back to your books and your armchair, plant your trees, watch them grow. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.”- HELLO? GAY POLICE? I’D LIKE TO REPORT A CASE OF ‘DWARF KING REALISING THAT THE HOBBIT WAY OF LIVING IS A REALLY GREAT ONE IN CONCEPT / WISHING HE COULD HAVE HAD THAT KIND OF LIFE WITH BILBO’

anyway it’s a long 80 years until Thorin does get to meet Bilbo again, and in the meantime we have one of my favorite additions to any Hobbit fanfic ever: Frerin

For the uninitiated, Frerin is Thorin’s brother. They also have a sister, Dís, but Tolkien never specified when she died and she was a bit younger than Thorin and Frerin so I reckon she’d still be alive as an old dwarf lady somewhere?

Anyway, Frerin. Oh boy. Sansukh, again, does an excellent job at turning Frerin into a character with a level of authenticity that gets real fucking close to Genuine Tolkien™, so most of my own characterisation of Frerin is based on that in Sansukh. With the important omission of the dwarves not being able to see the present/their still alive loved ones in middle earth through a magic mirror pool.

so Frerin takes it upon himself to leave the mountain in search of his brother because he really does want him back. but also because Mahal has had it with Thorin’s antics and suggests Frerin fetch him so he can finally reunite with his family. Mahal doesn’t talk to the dwarves a lot because he’s like an awkward and distant dad, but he does actually speak to them.

so Thorin is supposed to go see his family, which he does, but not immediately. it takes like, a solid year of just brotherly (and sister-sonly) companionship for him to open up about all his anxieties and regrets and THEN he goes into the mountain to cry in his mother’s lap. as you do.

however Thorin still feels like he doesn’t 100% belong with the other dwarves in there, so he frequently spends long stretches of time outside, building away at his house, thinking about Bilbo. the company goes out to visit him sometimes.

more details on the house tho, cuz it’s Important; it’s built halfway into a hill near the mountain, like a proper hobbit hole would be, but the lower levels are built into stone. look, he’s had 80 years to work on constructing this. it’s near perfect in every way for both hobbit and dwarf standards and could definitely fit the entire company and more inside.

now about the barrier. elves can pass through without a second thought because they’re shiny little bastards who just get to do all the cool stuff, but the other races can’t just hop between realms like that; they really have to muster up the willpower. which usually means they can’t do it because a drawback for both dwarves and hobbits is that they favor isolation from other races even in death, and as such don’t want to mingle with each other.

unless you’re Bilbo Badass Baggins though, who simply runs through the barrier to yell at Thorin for leaving him sad and alone for 80 years. he is that bitch.

there’s gonna be some legolas and gimli shenanigans if i can fit them in (cuz i dont know when exactly they sailed west together), possibly a mention of tauriel because bruh peter jackson did us dirty by not giving her any closure besides ‘lol i guess she’s banished from mirkwood??’ and Mairon. because. I also have some thoughts about him.

also Fili and Kili as pseudo matchmakers because every fic needs that

and did I mention there’s gonna be hozier lyrics for chapter titles

i said this was the gist of it but i somehow ended up at ~1900 words. well, more power to me.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bagginshield afterlife au #this is the most coherent plot summary I've ever done for a fic so please enjoy the trash #also it's my sleepover and I get to pick which parts of canon i'll adhere by

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i-am-here-with-fanfic · 5 years

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The Illegitimate Son- Chapter 1 (edited)

The Illegitimate Son

Warnings: None

A/N: I had to change some things completely, hope you enjoy it like I enjoyed writing it.

The boy, in his teenage years, managed to break a sad smile as his eyes lost control of their strength and let tears consume his sight. He stumbled upon an alley, so dark in the rising morning, but it was perfect for him. He still had time to fix his composure. No one would see him cry for no apparent reason; not even Faian whom had enhanced senses. He would have to work twice, thrice, four times through the feelings of rejection and guilt, intertwining with shame into being the normal feeling of anxiety for the first day of school.

'It isn't okay to cry; you are going to be a hero. You can't cry.' He thought as he used his hands to wipe the tears away.

He seemed to have felt this way when he got his results from U.A.’s Entrance Exam. He watched a lady, her hero name being Midnight, congratulate him for being accepted into the General Education course; where he can train his Quirk to be suited in a work environment. He watched and then listened to the optimistic -hard to ignore- booming voice, so enriched with hope for the new generation of heroes to come from ALL MIGHT himself. He glanced at his friend-his brother to be exact- who looked at him with a kind expression. Outside, he was worried about how his Prudentia form went, having noticed that his legs weren’t injured, but on the inside, was he feeling his worst. In other words, he was useless, he was too focused on his ice-skating adventures that he ‘forgot’ to prioritize the fact that he had his mother’s quirk, Iron-blood. He did not deserve his quirk, he deserved to suffocate in his thoughts, crying himself to sleep.

After he took a few breathing exercises and thinking of nothing but an empty room with files sprawled everywhere and collecting it in random places, the young one -his thoughts vanished for the moment- took advantage by remembering a sweet, warming smile that helped him through all his living years. His lips, in a sad smile got stronger and lighter in the sense of happiness. He fixed his red, slicked back hair and smiled like nothing had occurred. After all, it was his first day of school, he had to be optimistic for his classmates and him.

The young boy had reached a two-story house that had been painted with blue grey tones with charcoal trims. There were two trees in the front and where he appeared to know the person who lived there very well that he just opened the door with a soft knock to let the person know he was inside.

He spotted the young lad deep in his thoughts. He sighs softly as he took in the fact that he was going to wear his bloody moccasins to school and his jacket -a gift from his family- draped over his shoulders, above his school uniform. He got closer to him, and then asked, "Hey, Faian. You ready to go?"

He must've been deep in his thoughts as he blinked, looking at the red-head. With a simple nod, they began their voyage to the infamous U.A. school.

The two had entered the train that was closest to the school and Faian casted a side-glance at Aaron who gulped softly. He could smell the stress sweat through his deodorant, though, he did not use his draconic senses to do so.

"Nervous, little flame?" he asked, the corner of his lip raising a bit, wanting to comfort his brother.

"A bit. It's just the pressure of going to such a well-known school. It'll pass...hopefully." Aaron answered, leaning against the chair with a sigh.

It was 7:15 AM and when they arrived before the gates, Aaron once again admired the huge building of U.A. High School. His light blue eyes scanned the reflective windows and headed straight forward to have a look around. He noticed there were students who were already there despite the time. He went to his shoe locker to exchange his shoes and glanced at Faian for a second before placing his shoes in the locker. The pair walked down the hallway, both looking for their classes.

Aaron doesn't admit this to anyone, he was a shy boy. He wanted to be unnoticeable yet noticed. He wanted to be strong, but he saw himself as weak. He thought he was unwanted, when he realized he was a mistake. Knowing that his mother never mentioned his father in any way, he figured it was just a one-time thing that occurred. He wanted to make his mom proud in every way, and it was hard for him to just accept it easily that his mom did in fact love him very much, but he created that doubt in himself.

His heart raced in his chest as he took a deep breath.

Aaron decided to go on by himself, wanting to gather up some nerves to face people, which Faian nodded and bidding farewell, he also decided to do the same and wait in his class.

The boy sighed heavily as he pats his chest, "I-it’s okay..." he shakily murmured to himself, "Everything will be okay." The anxious look on his face caused the teacher that was walking by quirk his eyebrow.

"Hey kid, you lost?" A tired teacher asked, holding a soft, yellow sleeping bag.

"Well..." he sighs softly, "Not really, " the boy responded, "I was going to walk around and familiarize the school grounds." He tried so hard to keep that smile.

The teacher nods, taking a glimpse of his light blue eyes, “Is your name by any chance 'Aaron Granchester'? "

Aaron, nodded, "Yes, I am."

The teacher hummed in response, “Aizawa-kun. Be careful not to get lost, it can be intimidating for first years." And he started walking down the hallway.

Aaron watched him for a bit before walking into the hallways.

Aizawa furrowed his eyebrows, ‘Those eyes, why are they so familiar?' he asked himself as he entered the teachers' lounge, taking a nap before class started.

It took Aaron a while to familiarize with the rooms and he found his class, the General support class, Class 1-C. Upon entering, Aaron noticed one seat was taken by a boy with purple hair, the red-haired boy looked at his watch: 8:20.

"It's early, I know." He mentions, rubbing the nape of his neck. Aaron noted that he was an introverted boy, just like him. Aaron found a new goal: Become friends with this kid! Two introverts with powerful vibes!!

Aaron looked up from his watch and smiled softly, “Glad to know we're not only ones huh. Mind if I sit next to you?" he asked shyly and when he saw the young boy shrug his shoulders, he proceeded to sit in his new chair.

He took out a notebook and a pencil, waiting a few seconds before asking.

"So, what's your quir-" it seemed like a normal way to start a conversation these days.

Hitoshi took over his body and said something that made Aaron write on his notebook in soft, small letters to be able to erase it.

When Aaron returned, he blinked a few times before reading "Brainwash".

"Brainwash? " he read it softly, a curiosity lingered in his tone.

Shinsou was tired of hearing the same old' thing: "That's like a villain quirk" "so why are you here at U.A.? "

But it surprised him to hear: "Such a cool quirk! My god, that's gotta be a powerful one- imagine literally stepping in and like controlling all the villains and then just walking them into jail! " Aaron couldn't stop grinning. It wasn't often that he was this ecstatic, especially with people he just met but indeed, he was intrigued by the quirk.

Hitoshi felt a tingling in the pit of his stomach. He in fact did not know what to say so instead he just ignored the boy who began erasing the words on his new page.

Class had started and the teacher walked in, "Good Morning class, welcome to the General Education Course, where you are trained to improve your quirk and seek out the best and I truly believe that you all have special talents that can help you out there! Now, we have to go to the Orientation-"

When the class was heading to the gym to, Shinsou was beside the crimson red-head, Aaron, feeling curious about the boy beside him. Was he pretending to be interested? Was he scared? What's wrong with this boy, why was he so excited about his evil quirk?

When lunch started after the first three periods, Aaron was eating from his bento box, his mom made it for him. He was eating so slow that Hitoshi even had to snap his fingers at him, “Hey, Aaron."

Aaron snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see Hitoshi and smiled, "Hey hitoshi."

"This seat taken?" He asked and Aaron shook his head, "Not at all, go ahead take it," and Hitoshi sat down. He wondered about Faian's whereabouts but since he didn't come, he didn't want to look for him. Maybe he found new friends in his class.

While they were eating, Hitoshi had to ask, "Why were you so excited to hear about my quirk? Don't you think it's evil?" His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared at the kid in front of him.

Aaron was confused from the sudden questionnaire, but he shook his head, “Not at all, on the contrary, it can be used for good too. That's why you are in U.A. right? So, you can become better and become a hero, to use your quirk for the villains that need to be thrown in jail and serve their time in isolation for the destruction they caused. I admire and envy your quirk; you're going to be an awesome hero." He said so with fascination, eyes litting up as he talked about his new friend. Hitoshi felt his heart flutter, no one, not even his previous classmates had said that to him, it took a new kid to see his purpose.

"I'm sure you don't believe me, but I know that we all have a choice between being good and bad. I know you're good, or else you wouldn't be here in one of these highly competitive schools. You work hard, and you're working even harder now that you are here." He smiled softly, setting down his chopsticks.

Hitoshi's heart couldn't stop pumping faster anymore, he wanted to cry but he kept his face stoic.

"What if I was a villain in disguise to take U.A. down?"

Aaron laughs softly, but it sounded so loud. Like a hero was there. He even had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter.

Hitoshi furrowed his brow even more in a glare.

"You're not, Hitoshi. Because you wouldn't have told me, dummy. Villains would've taken what I said to a consideration and use that until much later when they reveal themselves as a traitor and whatnot." He grins so brightly.

Hitoshi's doubt was wrong. He was being honest; this kid was in fact a fanatic of his quirk and he blushed softly before eating.

Then he glanced at Aaron's face. He was staring blankly at his food and he snapped at him once again, "Oi, Aaron, snap out of it."

Aaron blinked and looked up at him once again, "Sorry..." he did his typical of rubbing the nape of his neck.

"What's wrong?" Hitoshi asked.

"Well... What I said, about the disguised villain? I should be more careful. I know you're a good kid, but imagine if there was a villain in disguise here? And I told him that? Or her...or them. But like, yeah, I would've exposed that person and maybe I would've been the first victim and how would I help my fellow class-"

Hitoshi regretted his snapping and he brainwashed Aaron once again so he would eat, stopping his running mind. He would only do this for a few seconds. He made him listen, "You don't have to apologize, you are over thinking things and you are blaming yourself for a mistake you didn't make. Take it easy."

When lunch ended, the two were heading back to their class when Hitoshi spotted a few from 1-A class with so much spite towards them.

Aaron noticed a strong anger vibe and he placed his hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you hate them but focus on your path. You wouldn't want your pride and anger to take you down. It's not good for the mind and soul. Be responsible with your actions." He patted him a few times before heading into class.

Hitoshi had a bubbling pit in his stomach, but Aaron was right, don't let envious emotions get in the way, he had to be patient and earn his spot in the class. He had to work harder. He was going to get inside Class 1-A.

When class started, the teacher instructed that they would need their uniforms as they were going to fight to get an insight of their styles. It was the only day the teacher was going to permit this activity, as the General Education was more about academic achievement in school and how they would use their quirks in their jobs/careers. Both genders walked to their designated locker rooms to change into their uniforms and onto the field.

Aaron chose to stay behind, he didn't want to fight any of his classmates until someone who was opposite to was starting to show off, taking every single student head on.

"I'm the strongest!! No one can defeat me!" he yelled as he activated his quirk: Rock.

Aaron, standing behind noticed, that kid was running towards Hitoshi. He could've stayed back and watch but something in him took control and before he even had a chance to think, his arms push outward and from his hand, created a long, thin silver Rapier. With his strength, he stabbed the sword into the ground as he wrapped his hands around the handle for his body to thrust forward, having the momentum and the strength in his legs to gather before kicking the rock straight in the face, taking him off guard.

It was silent and Aaron was panting, his eyes shown complete shock before turning to see his friend with his eyes wide.

"Y-you okay?" he asked softly. He looked down to apologize, ashamed for the sudden move he launched. "I didn't mean to jump out like that. I knew you could've handled it, but... I don't know what came over me that made me just run after him... I'm sorry for taking your chance to fight-"

"YOU WILL PAY FOR THAT!!" The rock-kid yelled at Aaron and Shinsou and stampede on the cement stage. Before Aaron could have a chance to look up, Hitoshi glared at the kid who stopped completely in his tracks, eyes wide and his pupils having a white color to them. His mouth was hung open and staring into oblivion as his mind was blank and his brain was forced to stop moving all limbs and thoughts.

Aaron stood up and watched the kid before turning back to Hitoshi.

"And now we're even," he stated and left the field.

The teacher -Snipe- had added a note beside Aaron's name to talk to him afterwards, seeing as the student was now fiddling with his thumbs, standing still like he wanted so desperately to leave, but did not want to get in trouble for ditching class.

Many kids had watched in awe, but they were more intimidated by Hitoshi's quirk. As Aaron passed by a few girls with a defeated look on his face, a sadness that came back, he overheard them talking about him, yet not badly.

"Is it me or does he look like-"

"Todoroki?"

"Yeah, right?"

"I can see it but if they are brothers, they are complete opposites in personality-wise, and quirks."

"That's so true."

"He looks slightly more like Endeavor though."

Aaron looked up, ‘Endeavor? He can't be my father...I don't have red hair.' He thought to himself as he walked inside to change after Snipe had instructed the students to go back to the locker room, thanking them for their cooperativeness. Aaron had the curiosity to ask his mom, he thought it wasn't a good idea to even touch such a sensitive topic for so long since he thought it would make his mom cry, and if he could avoid that, he would do it. But today, today he was curious- today was the day he wanted to know who ruined his mom's life. He wanted to know if he could personally go up to him face-to-face or at least bring implications to him about how he ruined such an amazing person in his life.

When he fixed the tie, he walked with the rest of the class to their classroom. With a few minutes to spare everyone, minus Shinsou and Aaron, was murmuring and talking about topics that couldn't be heard of. Snipe quieted them down and the class was silent for the last two remaining minutes. When the bell had finally rang, Aaron was last to leave, not wanting to be caught up with the group of kids wanting to leave. When he passed the desk, Snipe rose from his chair, "Granchester, can you spare a few minutes? I need to talk to you for a moment." He asked, his voice sounding echoey from the mask he had on.

Aaron stopped in his tracks and returned to the front of the desk, "Yes, sir?" he asked with an anxious tone, gulping softly.

Snipe raised his hand, waving it vertically for a bit before resting it on the desk, "Relax, I just wanted to ask you how you feel right now, after the activity?"

Aaron was quiet for a few moments, "...Terrible." He murmured, rubbing his arm softly, "I just ruined...my first friendship here..."

Snipe could practically feel the anxiety that Aaron radiated. He saw the look of despair when he looked at his other student, Shinsou Hitoshi.

"I'm sorry for that, Aaron, even I did not know that that was going to occur. I'm just very surprised and impressed how fast you jumped in to save your friend. You said your very first friendship?"

Aaron nods, making eye contact for a few seconds before looking down, "Y-yeah...he-" he was quiet, not wanting to spill out more and ramble.

"Go ahead, Granchester, you can tell me." Snipe reassures him to continue.

"Uhm...he looks very cool and has a very unique quirk that I think he belongs in the hero department." Aaron bit the bottom of his lip, almost gripping his arm, "They made the mistake to not include him..."

"Oh? And why is that, Granchester?" Snipe tilted his head subtly as he watched his student.

"His quirk is Brainwash; he can control peoples' minds if they talk back to him. It would be useful in situations where there are many bad guys against few. Shinsou can use his quirk to use one of the controlled against their own. Even if it seemed like it would not help, it would cause a distraction and the heroes would have the chance to win. I believe he can be a hero; he would be such a cool one."

Snipe would be smiling behind the mask, staying quiet for a few moments to control the tone of his voice of impress, "Wow, that's very strategic and unexpected. When did you two meet?"

"This morning, we were the only two in the class before other students, so we just talked for a small time."

Snipe nods, "That's very impressive indeed, Granchester, and I want to point out a few things. You are very hopeful to see others grow. You yourself have a unique quirk too, partner. It says here in my sheet that you have a quirk called Ironblood. I'm only assuming you can create weapons made from iron, is that correct?"

Aaron nods, "I didn't...train on my quirk because I was busy with ice-skating...so when I was accepted into U.A....uhm...part of me was upset that I was accepted, because I didn't deserve to be here."

"You don't have a lot of confidence in you, and that's what we need to work on. I have faith in all my students, Granchester, but when they don't have the confidence in themselves, no one else can help them but themselves. Start doing this, okay? No matter how you feel. Get Up. Look Up. Show Up. Never Give Up. You proved yourself you want to be someone, because if you didn't, you wouldn't have been here early enough to talk to your new friend here in U.A. High, okay Granchester?"

Aaron did not know how to feel, he felt overwhelmed with emotions. He wasn't mad or annoyed or even sad. Someone -a pro hero- believed he can be a hero as well. His mother believed he can be a hero, but he never thought of himself that way, he was always saying bad things about himself. His self-esteem was so low when it came to Quirks and combat that he would compare himself to...to a medicine bottle on the edge of a microwave and just the mere sense of vibrations would make the bottle topple over and hit hard on the floor.

He gulped softly and nodded, "yes, sir."

Snipe nodded once in affirmation. "Good. Don't let those thoughts change your perspective, the moment you start feeling that doubt, give yourself a shot. I'll see you tomorrow, Granchester."

Aaron thanked Snipe for his kind words and left the class, feeling a heavy sigh leaving his parted lips.

Once outside of the building, Faian was waiting outside helping a green-hair boy up on his feet. He shyly approached the group (his brother was there, he wanted to leave as soon as Faian saw him).

"Oh, no! It's completely fine, I mean, I should've been looking where I was going and if you didn’t, I probably would've needed to head back to the nurse and it would have been super embarrassing to go back so soon after already breaking my finger!" The green-haired boy expressed with gratitude for the move and took a breath and beginning to calm down, then asking Faian if he needed a hand.

Faian picked up his jacket that had fallen on the ground and shifted his uniform in his regular outfit. He thanked the green-haired boy for the offer.

The blue-haired boy with square glasses was first to speak, asking, "May I inquire as to what your quirk is? It must be quite powerful if our teacher recognizes your strength."

"That's right! Aizawa had you set the bar for everyone. Didn't he have you do it without your Quirk, too?" the brown-haired girl asked after the boy.

It seemed they had a Quirk-Assessment as well. It was a weird coincidence, but it was relieving for a second.

"I suppose it would be best for me to share. The name bestowed upon my Quirk is 'Draconico Vitae', better known as Dragon of Life." He gestured the noticeable draconic features, his cat-like pupils, the

pointed ears, "simply put, I am capable of anything a dragon of my kind is, including having the ability to perform powerful elemental magic. As a result, my natural capabilities as a human are greater than the average person; otherwise, I would not have survived the backlash of my Quirk."

Aaron was hesitant to add, not wanting to take the spotlight, but he wanted to tease his brother a little, "Physical traits and abilities aside, Faian also shares the same nature as a dragon. He hoards knowledge and anything of importance, is inclined to disinterest, and tends to be lazy."

The two were quite impressed by his quirk and nature, while the first time he ever heard of it, he was just so impressed that he resembled that of a dragon, finding him cool. The green-haired boy, on the other hand, seemed to be scribbling in a semi-burned notebook, only guessing he was writing Faian's Quirk, who would seem so excited of writing if it weren't class notes? He was also mumbling, making Aaron blush lightly as he would either mumble, ramble, or overthink. He understood very little to what he said, being a fast mumbl-er.

"You know, I would be willing to share more of my Quirk, for a price."

Aaron was quick to interrupt, he even noticed the peaked curiosity that the green-haired boy was in, "Faian, now is not the time for you to make trades. I'm certain they want to know more about you, but you did order a bunch of furniture."

"My Victorian-era furniture! We need to get to my house before the delivery truck, otherwise they may skip it and I shall lose my payment!"

"You wasted a lot of time not using contractions." (Although Aaron wouldn't be that sharp to notice, but he did).

Aaron blushed lightly, not used to be picked up bridal-style in front of strangers, Faian unfolded his wings and took off towards his house.

The walk back home seemed longer than before as he was gathering up his thoughts together, as well as courage. Even taking the train seemed longer. It took a lot of convincing for Faian not to take Aaron back home, but he insisted that he wanted to get used to taking the train, even after getting teased about reporting abnormal behaviors to the police and to not take the matters into his own hands (Chapter 3 on @starrylegend 's story on his blog).

Finally, he was in front of the door, glancing at the black small car. His mom arrived early. He sighs softly, yet it felt heavy. He just remembered the question he wanted to ask her.

Mom...what happened to my...dad?

Chapter 2 Coming Soon

#aaron granchester #the illegitimate son #original story #mha fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #fanfiction #dadmight x son!oc #dadmight #mha oc #mha #bnha #bnha oc

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shirtlesssammy · 5 years

Text

14x08: Byzantium

Then:

Jack’s all better, guys.

Oh, wait..

Now:

Our nougat boy is dying, guys. Dean “Free Will” Winchester is beside himself--for not being able to help his son and because he can’t seem to stop the inevitable. As Jack lies coughing his last coughs, Dean leaves, unable to handle it anymore. Once in the hallway he looks up (like, was he even humoring the idea of asking for help? In any event, Chuck ain’t listening, but Cas comes to his side.)

Sam stays by Jack’s side. Jack tells Sam to assure Dean that it’s ok. Then he asks what will happen next “for someone like me.”

As many times as Sam has died, and as many realms that Sam has explored, he doesn’t know. “Then it’s gonna be an adventure.” Well, the ugly sobbing for this episode started way too early for my taste.

In the hallway, Dean turns from Cas when he comes up to him. Dean just can’t process what’s happening.

For Concerned and Slightly Irritated Husband Science:

Cas makes it clear to Dean that Jack needs him by his side. They head back into Jack’s room. Sam informs them that he passed. AND WHAT? I was fully prepared for Jack to die, but right away?! Gah.

Sam, Dean, and Cas plan Jack’s funeral (pyre, hunter style).

Sam leaves the hallway conversation, and Dean lets him.

Dean reaches out to Mary, letting her know that Jack died. It kind of breaks my heart that Dean reaches out to his mother at this time. I really like Mary, but she is not the nurturing type, and yet Dean still tries to get some kind of motherly comfort from her, and I HURT.

Cas watches Sam take off, only to have Dean ask him where he is. Uh, oops?

Together, they take off in Cas’s (new?) truck to track down Sam. (This was glorious, by the way. Cas has never driven Dean anywhere before.)

They find Sam slumped against the Impala and Dean and every audience member ever scream, “Tell me you didn’t make a deal!” That’s what it looked like, but no, Sam was just taking out his frustration and sadness in the form of misguided tree chopping. So, in the dark of night, the brothers and Cas try to process their grief. Tomorrow they will say goodbye to Jack, but tonight Dean suggests they get loaded.

What follows is a glorious, fourth-wall breaking montage that is just a wonderful moment to witness for Team Free Will. This show is always so good at giving us a little happy with heaps and heaps of sad.

I love Cas drinking from the bottle vs Sam and Dean’s glasses. And Dean’s unanswered “We did everything we could, right?” is just beautiful.

Jack’s Good Place is traveling to Dodge City with Sam, Dean, and Cas. ALL THE HEARTS. Dean flickers in and out and the sun dims. Jack realizes that this place isn’t real and finds his way to the white hallways of Heaven. As he’s walking, a black goo rushes for him. He runs.

The next morning, Dean awakens to a knock-out hangover, and the voices of Sam, Cas, and Lily Sunder in the war room.

(Sidenote: The actress playing Lily has been steadily acting since the 1950s! I recognized her from the X-Files but she’s been in everything! Amazing.)

She’s older (as Dean so tactfully points out), having given up magic. Sam called her for help on Jack. Dean also points out that she tried to kill Cas. (Lol, I imagine Dean has an Arya Stark list of people who’ve wronged Cas. He’s just biding his time to cross off some names.) Sam wants Lily’s help with the angel tablet. She’s not a prophet, but she knows a lot about angels. She can’t read the tablet translations, but she does have another idea: use her magic and a part of Jack’s soul to bring him back. She just wants to get into heaven in return. Easy Peasy.

Team Free Will discuss. Sam’s “I know how important a soul is. Believe me, I do” punched me in the gut a little. He’s all for saving Jack though. They need to figure out how to get Lily into heaven before trying this little plan. Time to summon Anubis, Guardian of the Dead.

Meanwhile, in heaven, Jack finds his mom. Blarf, bringing back Kelly and having them meet just hurts so much. Kelly’s realization that Jack is dead is SO HARD TO WATCH.

Dean is still not on the Lily Sunder Plan Train, but his argument with Sam is interrupted when Cas comes in to tell them that Heaven is in trouble. All of Heaven’s gates are open. Cas heads to Heaven.

Dean continues to be the cantankerous worrier of the trio, complaining about the plan to resurrect Jack while he and Sam prepare the bunker for the ritual. Dean's seen way too many bad resurrection side-effects, man. But it's okay, because Cas is back!

Only...Cas reports that angel radio is just a distress signal on repeat, and all of Heaven's gates are wide open – including the ones closed by Metatron. Iiiiinteresting. Dean and Sam let him go. Cas will head up to Heaven and they'll pray to him when the ritual is ready. What could go wrong?

So Dean apologizes to Lily, but he does a “Dean” apology which tends to be half accusatory. He wants to know why Lily's using the Enochian magic again if she quit doing it. She tells Dean that if she preserves a piece of her soul, that she might make it into Heaven and finally see her daughter again.

Up in Heaven, Cas finds puddles of black goo and two apparently dead angels.

Dumah wakes up in a gasp, and asks Castiel why he's isn’t on Earth. (A question which will be important later.) He's there to find Jack. Dumah begs to go with him, and they head off to Jack's heaven together. Jack's adorable paradise is empty. Oh WAIT Naomi is there. She tells them that Jack is gone – perhaps the “angel side” of him knew how to get out. Naomi informs them about the nature of the goo. It's the Shadow from the Empty, and he wants Jack because of his half-angel nature. (Side note: also Cas is the only one to ever escape. Good job, bby!) Naomi encourages Dumah and Cas to give Jack over to the Empty. Jack's soul can't possibly be worth more than the safety of all the other millions and billions of souls in Heaven.

Cas refuses to help her, and Naomi gets enveloped by black goo. She urges him to run.

Downstairs, the Winchesters and Lily summon Anubis. Dean's a little salty, given the number of times he died and, oh yeah, went to Hell that one time. “Pushing pencils, damning souls,” Dean summarizes about Anubis's work. Anubis laughs (it's my personal headcanon that he rather likes salty Dean). Lily asks Anubis to tell her where she's going after she dies and Anubis glances at the Winchesters and accedes. He pulls out an abacus, which begins to calculate Lily's worth. The chips fall and show that she's headed to Hell.

Dean and Sam threaten Anubis with a trap of palm oil which they “just happened to have laying around.” Our headcanon: Dean bakes, okay? Anubis tells them that neither he nor God have the power to shove somebody upstairs or downstairs – the human decides where they go based on their choices. If they keep him there or try to kill him, they can't save Lily (but they might damn themselves). It's a compelling argument, and Anubis goes free.

Cas tracks down Jack in Kelly's heaven. They share an emotional reunion. (Boris: Crying noise. Crying noise.)

Cas apologizes to Kelly for failing her, but she tells him that he raised Jack well. Jack learns about their resurrection plan and how they'll just use a leeeeetle tiny piece of Jack's soul for it. Kelly's concerned about this plan, but the Empty's attack has added new urgency to the resurrection plan. If Jack's alive, the Empty can't claim him.

Dumah slinks in from the back of the house and turns out to be – Old Man Smithers from the abandoned carnival! J/K, friends. Dumah is now the Empty. Well, fuck.

In the bunker, Lily packs her bags to leave. If there's no hope for her, then the deal's off. Sam shouts after her, telling her that they're trying to save their kid. And she should really empathize with that. Dean skips past empathy and goes straight to accusing Lily of being essentially a monster. To him, her chopped up soul and willingness to leave them in the lurch is ample evidence of that fact.

The Empty is ready to take Jack. Kelly's ready to cut a bitch.

Erica Cerra as the Shadow does an amazing job of showing a completely cracked up facade, reveling in the pain that the Shadow brings her denizens. She tosses Cas across the room...

In the bunker, Dean's aggressive guilt trip has convinced Lily to help them after all. She reflects on the photo of her daughter, and then they begin the ritual. They pray to Cas, who is still mid-fight with the Empty.

It's go-time, and the Shadow has hold of Jack, so Cas offers himself. “Take me in his stead,” he demands. CAAAAAAS! “I'm the one you want. I'm the one who woke you up,” he tells her. The Shadow turns on Cas, enticed by the offer. Cas sweetens the pot. He's destined for the Empty when he dies, yes. But it might be years or aeons until that happens again. OR the Empty could have him now and without a fight.

We...had many emotions about this.

For Science (and get your minds out of the gutter) (Boris: Imma stay in the gutter, please and thank you):

Cas closes his eyes for the blow (get your MINDS out of the GUTTER) but the Shadow wants him to “suffer.” The Shadow will claim Cas when he finally gives himself “permission to be happy.” Daaaaaamn.

We...had MANY EMOTIONS ABOUT THIS.

Cas agrees and the Shadow fucks off, leaving Dumah alive after it's departure. (Phew) Cas explains to Jack why he made his choice. He loves Jack, and so do Sam and Dean. They're working right now to bring him back to life.

Cas asks Jack not to tell the Winchesters what he did. “I don't want them to worry,” Cas tells him, and Jack promises not to tell them, THEREBY COMPOUNDING OUR PAIN.

Jack and Kelly say goodbye – Kelly telling him to have a wonderful life and she'll see him when he comes back to Heaven. Cas sends Jack's soul back to his body.

In the bunker, Jack wakes up. Sam gets him to read the rest of the spell and as he reads it, Lily looks weak and walks away to sit in a chair. Life returns to Jack completely. He seems whole and healthy and all it cost was...

Dean thanks Lily for her help, then realizes just how much she helped them when he finds her dead in the chair. She used the last shred of her soul to save Jack, rather than cut into Jack's soul.

Lily finds herself in Anubis's office. He pulls out his abacus.

(Guys, look at his office, I love him!)

The calculations progress and show that Lily's moved the balance of her fate. “Did you know what doing the spell would cost you?” She totally did. <3 I love Lily.

“Say hello to your daughter for me,” Anubis tells her with a gentle smile.

Cas makes his way out of Jack's heaven, his memories clearly wiped by now. Confused, he's met with Naomi who thanks him for saving Heaven.

Naomi gives him a reward for his help – Michael's location. Cas returns to Earth victorious! I guess.

TFW 2.0 share emotional burgers now that Jack's resurrected. Jack's wrapped in Dean's robe. They're all happy. I'm...it's...this is all very, very good and touching.

We end the episode on a hopeful note, ready to find Kaia, tackle Michael, and WIN. Go, team! Nothing can hurt us now. NOTHING.

Natasha: Man, I loved this episode. I’m so excited to see how this bears fruit later on!

Boris: This episode! This. Episode. I just watched All Hell Breaks Loose (and Dean’s demon deal), and I’m just amazed how one episode is able to juggle 14 years of story threads while introducing really intriguing new story potentials. And we got a seriously good amount of TFW. Yep.

Everything’s fine and nothing quotes:

Everything we've got – the spells, the lore, what good is any of it if we couldn't even save him?

Old school! A real map. Let's find our way to Dodge City!

When God left – sorry, long story – we needed a new judge and Anubis was the obvious choice

I don't like rolling the dice on the word of a psycho ex-angel-killer

Why risk going to Hell if you don't have to?

Where I'm taking you is worse than Hell, because at least Hell is something

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive!

#spn spoilers #spn 14x08 #byzantium #spn recap #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel #cas #jack kline #kelly kline #lily sunder #naomi #dumah #the empty #supernatural season 14

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yurionice-secretsanta · 5 years

Text

If it’s me you really seek

To @nooowestayandgetcaught From @singeiji

Hi! i hope you like the fic!!!

Title: if it’s me you really seek Rating: T Word Count: 3.4k Notes: wings/fairy au, canon compliant

Yuri is three when his Mama sits him down and tells him why they have wings that no one else can see.

Before tucking him in at night, Mama tells him a story. It’s always about a girl who can fly. She lives in the countryside with all of her fairy friends, and everyday, they go on a brand new adventure. But today, Mama tells him about the time the girl finds a boy in the woods.

“Her mother taught her to always be careful of strangers, but the boy was lost, and he seemed very nice, so she decided to help him anyway,” Mama says.

Yuri stares up at her, wide-eyed, captivated like he always is.

“What happened?” he asks, and he watches as Mama’s lips curl upwards in a smile.

She tucks his hair behind his ear and says, “It turned out that he was so nice, she decided to stay with him.”

Yuri’s eyebrows furrow.

“But what about her mother? And her fairy friends? Did she leave them?”

“Well, she did, but she made new friends, and she found a new family,” Mama says. “She got married to the boy and they had a baby together and she loved them both very much.”

“Just like you love me, Mama?”

Mama bends down to press a kiss onto Yuri’s temple.

“Yes, Yurochka, exactly how I love you,” Mama says. “You know why, my love? Because you are that baby, and I am that girl.”

Yuri’s breath catches and mouth drops open. “Does that mean we’re fairies, Mama?”

Mama’s smile widens. “Yes. That’s why we have wings, because we’re fairies who can fly.”

“Teach me how to fly, Mama!”

Yuri squirms, excited at the thought of it. He’s tried to, before, but even when he jumped as high as he could, he couldn’t follow the seagulls up to the sky.

But Mama shakes her head at him.

“You’re too young, Yurochka,” she says, and she reaches out to smooth the crease that appears between Yuri’s eyebrows. “But someday, Mama will teach you. We’ll fly together and we can show it to Papa.”

That night, Yuri dreams of flying above a forest. He dreams of his Mama and Papa all the way down on the ground, as tiny as a little kitty. They’re waving at Yuri, and Yuri waves back.

That night, Yuri dreams of flying towards the sun.

Yuri is five when his parents die in a house fire.

Yuri’s Grandpa lives all the way in the city. Yuri sleeps through most of the ride there, and when he wakes up, he’s on a bed he doesn’t recognize in a room he doesn’t recognize.

His room back home was always so bright and warm, even at night, but this room is cold and lonely. The corners are dark and they scare Yuri. But he has no more Mama to tell him he’s alright, and he has no more Papa to hug him and protect him from the monsters hiding in the dark.

Yuri doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Grandpa is already shushing him, until he’s already wrapped in Grandpa’s arms.

It isn’t the same. Grandpa is bigger than Papa, and his hands are rougher. Grandpa doesn’t have wings like Mama’s and Yuri’s, so he can’t hide Yuri away behind them like Mama used to do.

But it’s still nice. Grandpa is warmer than the rest of the room, and he lets Yuri cry into his shirt. His voice is low like Papa’s and his words remind him of Mama’s.

And even though Yuri cannot sleep with his parents on either side of him like he used to when he was having a bad night, he sleeps that night with his head on Grandpa’s lap and his hand wrapped tight on Grandpa’s wrist.

That night, Yuri dreams being stuck on the ground while his Mama and Papa hover above him. He can’t see them clearly because the sun is too bright behind them, but he knows it’s them. He can hear them calling for him, telling him to come, but he can’t. Yuri doesn’t know how to fly; his Mama hasn’t taught him yet.

That night, Yuri dreams of being left behind.

Yuri is six when he discovers the ice.

The figure skaters on TV look like they’re flying.

They glide along the ice with their arms spread, and to Yuri’s eyes, they look like birds with their wings extended on both sides, riding on the air. They take off for their jumps—triple axel, quad lutz, double toe—and to Yuri’s eyes, they look like birds taking flight.

There’s one who Yuri can’t take his eyes off. His hair is long and grey, and he’s wearing a pale gray costume to match. There are frills along his arms and his torso that almost look like feathers when he spins, and when he jumps, he soars.

His name is Victor Nikiforov and Yuri wants to ask him how to fly.

That night, Yuri dreams of skating. He’s on the lake back home, and when he looks up, he sees that Victor is with him. Victor is holding his hand and pulling him around. His smile is wide and there’s gold around his neck.

“You’re doing so well, Yura,” he says, and Yuri believes him.

That night, Yuri dreams of hope blossoming in his chest.

Yuri is nine when he first meets the man who coaches Victor.

A lot of the other kids are scared of Yakov, but Yuri isn’t.

See, Yakov Feltsman looks like the angry dog next door who always barks at Yuri when he passes by. That same angry dog turns to putty when Yuri reaches through the gate’s bars and pets him, and Yakov is very much the same.

Yakov barks out corrections and commands, but his touch is gentle when he moves to adjust Yuri’s limbs and his eyes are warm when he tells Yuri that he did a good job. Yakov reminds Yuri of Grandpa, and that’s why there isn’t any way he could be scared of him.

Yuri was hoping to catch a glimpse of Victor at Yakov’s camp. He doesn’t, but it’s fine. Instead, he takes home the image of Yakov’s face, his lips set into a line and his eyes warm with satisfaction so, so close to Grandpa’s face when he tells Yuri he’s proud of his Yurochka.

That night, Yuri dreams again of flying. The wind is strong, but he doesn’t get blown away with it. There’s a string wrapped around his ankle. When he looks down, he sees Grandpa and Victor and Yakov, and they’re the ones holding him to the earth.

That night, Yuri dreams of smiling down at them.

Yuri is eleven when he finally meets Victor Nikiforov.

Victor looks nothing like he did when Yuri first saw him. His hair is cut shorter, his shoulders wider, his legs longer. He still soars when he jumps, but now that Yuri can see him up close, he looks cold, lonely. He wraps his arms around himself and holds on like he’s hoping it’s someone else’s touch. He smiles like a lie.

He’s sitting down when Yakov first introduces Yuri to his new rinkmates, and yet it still feels like he’s looking down on Yuri.

“You’re good,” he says, after he watches Yuri skate for the first time, “but you’re still young.”

When he walks away, it feels like a slap to the face. Crystal clear dismissal that starts a spark in the pit of Yuri’s stomach.

Victor is still beautiful when he skates, but Yuri doesn’t want to fly with him anymore.

That night, Yuri dreams of Victor skating in a stadium empty except for Yuri, sitting at the very back. It’s cold and it’s dark except for the spotlight that follows Victor around the rink. Yuri doesn’t think Victor knows he’s here. He doesn’t think Victor realizes that there’s anyone watching at all.

That night, Yuri dreams of what loneliness looks like as it pours from Victor and fills up the whole room.

Yuri is twelve when he learns his first program.

Yakov tells him not to overwork himself. Yakov tells him he shouldn’t practice his jumps yet. Yakov tells him he can’t sneak into the rink after-hours all the time.

Yuri doesn’t understand why he can’t skate every hour of every day if it’s what he wants. He doesn’t understand why Yakov won’t let him fly. So he doesn’t listen. He practices, even when Yakov is shouting at him. He skates, even when Yakov threatens to drop him as a skater.

Weill. If Yakov drops him, then Yuri will find someone else who will let him fly.

That night, Yuri dreams of flying. The sky is clear and the sun is bright as it beckons at him to come, my child, come to me. But when he tries, he finds that he can’t. When he tries, he finds a string wrapped around his leg that pulls him back down, further and further away from the sun.

That night, Yuri dreams of falling to the ground before he can even reach the sky.

Yuri is thirteen when he wins his first gold medal.

In the last few seconds of his skate, Yuri replaces his triple with a quad. He touches down, but he gets the rotations in, and he hears the audience gasp and roar when they realize what he’s done.

But that doesn’t matter to Yuri. To Yuri, all that he can think about as he stands here with his chest heaving and sweat dripping from his skin is that he’s finally gotten to fly.

Yuri is always cold these days, but today, he’s as warm as the last time he was in his Mama’s arms.

That night, Yuri dreams of being back home. He’s in his childhood bed, tucked in tight just the way he likes. Mama is sitting beside him, telling him a story about a girl who can fly.

That night, Yuri dreams of warmth.

Yuri is fourteen when he first sees Yuuri Katsuki.

It’s easy to sneak out of a hotel room when there’s no one guarding him, and since Yakov has to look after Georgi, Yuri has absolutely no trouble at all.

Yuuri Katsuki skates first, and he takes Yuri’s breath away. His costume is plain and he falls on most of his jumps, but he skates like it’s what he was born to do. When he moves, he is smooth, effortless. He is ethereal and otherworldly. He is extending his hand to the audience and telling them come and watch me, only me.

He makes Yuri want to skate. He makes Yuri want to fly.

That night, Yuri dreams of the time his Mama flew for him. She hovers up in the sky, her hair blowing in the wind, her wings wide enough that she covers the sun.

“It’s beautiful up here, Yurochka,” she tells him. “Someday, you’ll see this too.”

But when Yuri blinks, Mama is gone. In her place is Yuuri Katsuki, his hand extended to Yuri.

“Come, Yuri,” he says.

But Yuri can’t.

That night, Yuri dreams of failure.

Yuri is fifteen when he’s reminded that those who fly can fall.

Yuuri Katsuki places sixth in his first Grand Prix Final event.

Maybe Yuri should have expected it considering how Katsuki is so inconsistent. Or maybe Yuri should have expected it considering how everyone he thinks could teach him to fly seem to fall flat in the end.

Somehow, though, this hurts more than the last time. Yuuri Katsuki had yet to soar, but now he’s bent and broken. Now, Yuri can’t take his hand and learn with him.

Yuri gets angry. Then again, he’s more angry than not these days.

That night, Yuri dreams of skating Yuuri Katsuki’s program.

He falls.

He gets back up.

He falls.

He gets back up.

He falls.

That night, Yuri dreams of falling so far that he can’t get back up again.

Yuri is fifteen when he learns to rely on himself.

Lilia Baranovskaya is scarier than Yakov Feltsman could ever be.

She tells him that pain is beauty, and so Yuri reaches into the deepest, darkest part of himself and pulls out everything he can use to be beautiful. She tells him that his natural talent is nothing if he doesn’t work hard, and what Yuri hears is that his wings are nothing if he can’t use them.

She tells him that he needs to throw his past self away, that he needs to be reborn, and Yuri listens.

He dances and he thinks of the sky, coming closer and closer until it almost seems like it’s within his reach. He skates and he thinks of his wings unfurling around him, of his feet lifting from the ground because of his own power.

Yuri learns to fly.

That night, Yuri dreams of his Mama.

“You had it in you all along, my Yurochka,” she tells him.

Yuri bows his head. His hand tightens around hers.

“I’m sorry it took me so long, Mama,” he says.

Mama doesn’t reply. Instead, she stands up and she walks to Yuri’s window, which is open, showing the full moon. Mama extends a hand, palm up.

That night, Yuri dreams of jumping out of his bedroom window and flying with Mama right beside him.

Yuri is fifteen when he becomes friends with Otabek Altin.

Yuri loves watching the sunset. The world glows yellow, and for a few minutes everyday, Yuri can bathe in the sun without having to fly to it.

Today, he watches the sunset with Otabek. Today, he listens to Otabek describe a boy Yuri doesn’t remember. Otabek says he has the eyes of the soldier, and it’s the first that Yuri’s ever heard it.

Everyone has always told Yuri that he’s too delicate, too angry, too lazy, too greedy. They contradict themselves. They never know what they really want from Yuri. Yuri has enough confusion and doubt in him; he doesn’t need theirs.

But Otabek—

Otabek saw Yuri’s hard work, even though he hadn’t. Otabek saw Yuri’s efforts, even though he felt like they weren’t enough. Otabek wants to be Yuri’s friend, even though he thought he’d always have to be alone to fly.

When Yuri takes Otabek’s hand, it feels like a new beginning.

That night, Yuri dreams of being back in that novice ballet class.

This time, he sees Otabek. This time, he’s the one who offers a hand to Otabek when he falls.

That night, Yuri dreams of dancing in a pair.

Yuri is fifteen when he wins his first gold in the Senior division.

Grandpa is proud of him. Yakov and Lilia are proud of him. Katsudon and Victor are proud of him. Otabek is proud of him. Yuri wishes his Mama and Papa could be here, but he knows that wherever they are, they’re proud of him too.

Most of all, though, Yuri is proud of himself. He breaks Victor’s world record. He won so Katsudon wouldn’t stop skating with him. He wins gold on his Senior debut.

But there is more to overcome. Yuri has flown to the top of this mountain, but there’s more left for him to cover.

That night, Yuri dreams of standing on top of the podium. Everyone is with him, surrounding him, and Yuri has never been happier.

That night, Yuri dreams of warmth that starts in his chest and spreads to the rest of his body.

Yuri is sixteen when he shows Otabek that he can fly.

They’re in Yuri’s room in Grandpa’s apartment. It’s Otabek’s first night in, and he sits on the futon laid beside the bed while Yuri paces back and forth.

“What do you need to show me?” Otabek asks.

Yuri pauses, takes a deep breath. He hasn’t shown anyone else but Grandpa before, but Grandpa already knew he could do it, just like he knew Mama could.

Yuri doesn’t know how Otabek will react, but Otabek is his friend. His first friend, if not his only friend. Yuri wants him to know.

“Watch me,” he says.

He flies.

Otabek blinks, says, “Amazing.”

Then—

“I guess we don’t need my bike to run away from your fans now.”

Yuri tackles Otabek in a hug and pretends he isn’t smiling into Otabek’s neck.

That night, Yuri dreams that he’s back in his childhood home. Instead of seeing Mama like he usually does, though, it’s Otabek who sits on Yuri’s bed. It’s Otabek who stands up and offers a hand to Yuri.

It’s Otabek who jumps out of the window and flies with Yuri.

That night, Yuri dreams of Otabek’s rare smiles.

Yuri is seventeen when he first shares a podium with two of his favorite skaters.

Getting silver isn’t the same as getting gold, but it’s not so bad when it’s Katsudon who snatches the top spot on the podium right from under Yuri’s nose. It certainly isn’t so bad, getting a score barely two points above bronze when it’s Otabek who’s standing on Katsudon’s other side.

Yuri can see Victor standing with Yakov and Lilia. He has Yuri’s phone pressed to his ear, and Yuri can easily imagine Grandpa on the other end of the line, asking Victor to tell him what’s happening.

There’s a feeling in Yuri’s chest. It blooms and it blossoms and it makes Yuri feel like he’s flying even though his feet are still touching the ground.

That night, Yuri dreams of sitting in his burning childhood room. It’s alright, though. It’s not just Mama with him tonight, but Papa too.

“You’re doing so well, Yurochka,” Mama says.

“We’re so proud of you,” Papa says.

When they offer their hands to Yuri, he takes them.

That night, Yuri dreams of his parents letting him go, letting him fly without them.

Yuri is eighteen when Yakov retires and hands him off to Victor.

Hasetsu is far away from St. Petersburg where Mila and Georgi are. It’s far away from Moscow where Grandpa is. It’s even farther away from Almaty where Otabek is.

But Yuri is used to having to talk to Grandpa through phone calls everyday, and he’s used to talking to Otabek online.

So Yuri makes Grandpa promise to keep calling him everyday and ask how his practice is going. Yuri makes Otabek promise to keep sending him recordings of his mixtapes, and he promises to keep sending pictures of Potya to Otabek. Potya, who’s now safely in Hasetsu and all too condoning of Victor’s dog.

Victor and Katsudon—

Well. Yuri promises to keep making a fuss whenever they get too affectionate with each other in public, of course.

That night, Yuri dreams of flying across the distance between Japan and Almaty.

That night, Yuri dreams of meeting Otabek.

Yuri is nineteen when he realizes he’s in love with his best friend.

By some cruel twist of fate, they have to wait until the Grand Prix Finals to see each other again.

Yuri waits in the hotel lobby. Katsudon has to hold his leg down because he keeps bouncing it on the floor otherwise. Victor has to confiscate his phone because Yuri keeps checking it obsessively for a new message from Otabek.

But finally, Victor says, “He’s here.”

Finally, Otabek comes through the doors and Yuri sees him again after more than half a year of nothing but messages they have to sneak into their busy schedules and Snapchats that consist of less selfies than Yuri would like.

Usually, Yuri wouldn’t even consider openly giving affection in such a public place, but Otabek is right there and he feels like he’s been waiting so long for this. So Yuri runs and he runs and he jumps into Otabek’s open arms.

“I missed you, Beka,” Yuri says.

“I missed you too, Yura,” Otabek replies.

Yura doesn’t even mind that Victor is so obviously taking a video of them.

That night, Yuri dreams of flying with a string wrapped around his ankle. It doesn’t connect him to someone on the ground like it did before. Instead, it connects him to Otabek, who’s flying right beside him.

That night, Yuri dreams of finally finding someone he wants to stay by his side.

Yuri is twenty when he first kisses his Beka.

They’re in Almaty. Yuri is staying at Otabek’s while Victor and Katsudon are away on their honeymoon.

Otabek’s sister is in the next room, and his mother is in the room across theirs, but somehow, those details disappear from Yuri’s mind when he and Otabek are staring at each other under the dim light of Otabek’s bedside lamp.

“Yura,” Otabek says. “Will you kiss me or not?”

Well.

Yuri kisses him, of course.

That night, Yuri takes Otabek flying. They stay up until sunrise.

#noowestayandgetcaugt #singeiji #gifts18 #YOIsanta18 #fanfic #otayuri #Yuri Plisetsky #Otabek Altin #submission

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starcunning · 6 years

Text

Suffer Me to Cherish You: 3 November

[12:11 PM] %%Battletag_nodigits%: I was out here crying in target just now because chocobos aren’t real and I will never hug one [12:12 PM] rust staring at crushed beer can: ah [12:12 PM] rust staring at crushed beer can: that's where shasi gets it from [12:12 PM] rust staring at crushed beer can: :P [12:12 PM] %%Battletag_nodigits%: I got it FROM HER [12:12 PM] rust staring at crushed beer can: that's even better lmfao [12:12 PM] friendly killer mech: your daughter changed you star

Previously: 1 Nov, 2 Nov

Chapter Two

Despite assurances from the porter that all of his birds were steadfast, Fray’s chocobo was a fussy, anxious thing. It seemed to make Anthea anxious, too, and though the Starway was in good repair, they stopped often to let the birds calm and to seek shelter from the midday heat. The chocobos were drinking and preening at the edge of Soot Creek. X’shasi watched them a while from her place beneath a baobab tree. Her shoulders ached, and she glanced over at Fray, who was saying nothing, only staring at the walls of Ul’dah.

“That’s the Gate of Nald,” X’shasi supplied helpfully. “The Adventurer’s Guild is just on the other side, and the markets … we could see about getting another blade so that you don’t have to keep lending me yours.” “It’s not a loan,” Fray said. “So you keep saying.” “You’re growing more used to it,” he observed.

It was true. X’shasi turned her hands over before her, looking at her palms. New calluses had begun to form, on her left hand as well as her right, as blade and knight acclimatized to one another. The demands were different from the swordplay she’d known as a red mage, but she was growing more used to them. With the way Fray drilled her every night while he made camp, X’shasi supposed she had to.

“But you still haven’t heard the voice again.” “No,” X’shasi agreed. Fray sighed. “I can lead you through the communion again,” he said. “But I wasn’t fully honest with you the last time.” She turned her head to look at him, eyes narrowing. He met her gaze unflinchingly. The pale gold of his eyes reminded her anew of a predator, though she had little fear of him pouncing then. Perhaps she should have. “What do you mean?” “When we communed in Bluefog, that was through the use of my power. I can do it again, but it would be better if you worked to be able to hear the voice on your own. There are risks involved.” X’shasi closed her eyes, the heat of the day burning behind her eyelids. “My life has been a series of risks for the last five years. Longer.” “You say that like I don’t know,” Fray said. He grunted out a single laugh, though it seemed almost like he was scoffing. “When you commune, the part of yourself that you connect with and nurture is called your Darkside. That, at least, is as I explained it before. But if a knight comes to commune and is not prepared to face his own negative emotions, they will consume him.” “And?” X’shasi asked, opening her eyes once more. She watched the sunlight sparkle on the creek. “And the backlash will tear him apart,” Fray said simply. “The first part of communion is bloodshed not because the communion itself requires it, but because that way I can be sure you’re ready.” “You’re worried about me.” Something about that thought amazed her, and laughter bubbled up from her chest. She could feel the soul crystal rattle on its chain with the motion. “You do know what I do with my life, don’t you?” “Yes,” Fray said simply. “Now, I’ve been honest with you about the risks. Every time we do that—every time I have to do it for you—it only becomes more dangerous. So I’m asking you to trust me.”

The chocobos splashed about in the water, Fray’s rented bird spearing a silver fish with its beak. She remembered the chill of the waters of Mor Dhona, and despite the midday heat felt the hair prickle on her neck.

“The voice,” she said. “That person … how can I hear it if we don’t commune?” “You would have to nourish that connection yourself,” Fray said. “You would have to confront your desires and fears and master them. Not suppress them,” he told her, tone careful as a tightrope walker, “but master them.” “I’ll try,” X’shasi said. “If you haven’t heard it by the time we get to our next stop,” Fray said, “then we’ll perform the ritual again. It would be better if we didn’t have to.” “I’ll try,” she said again, dusting herself off as she stood.

The desert sun only grew harsher when they had put the Sagolii Gate to their backs, and X’shasi was quite bedraggled by the time they arrived in Little Ala Mhigo. Despite the heavy black armor he wore, Fray seemed unconcerned, though his chocobo was a different story. She surrendered it to the chocobokeep of the camp, and Anthea’s reins as well. When the porter named his price for board and feed, it seemed high, but she was too tired to dicker over it. All the while, Fray watched the aetheryte turn, luminous blue even in the deep shadows of the cavern.

He put a gauntleted hand to it, though X’shasi felt none of the aetherial eddies of attunement. “You went the long way,” Fray said. “Why?” X’shasi only shrugged. “I wanted to,” she said. “It felt important. And … if I hadn’t, we would never have met.” “True,” he grunted. “You still haven’t heard it, have you.” “No,” X’shasi admitted. “Then we should ask around for a fight,” Fray said. “After.” “After what?” “After I speak to Gundobald,” X’shasi said. Looking around, she saw few faces, and fewer still turned toward her. She shrugged it off, retreating into the dark of the caves. The smoky scent of old campfires pervaded, roasted meats and drying herbs. X’shasi breathed in deeply, relishing the comparative coolness of the stone around her.

She approached Gundobald’s tent. An older woman sat out front, stirring a cook pot over a meager fire. “What do you want?” she asked, not looking up. “I was hoping I could speak with the elder,” X’shasi said. “Old bear’s busy,” the woman told her. “I can wait,” X’shasi replied, gripped with a sudden obstinacy. She settled in on the low bench opposite, reaching for her flask of water to drink.

The only sense she had of the passage of time was watching the sun shafts crawl over the cave walls. She looked out over the people of Little Ala Mhigo, at their weathered faces and aged bodies. There were few refugees of an age with her.

Ilberd had taken them, she supposed. And Lahabrea’s machinations a few years before hadn’t helped. But between those two incidents, X’shasi herself had come with Alphinaud and asked who would fight for a brighter future. And Wilred had taken up that charge. He will never see a free Ala Mhigo now, X’shasi realized with regret. She closed her eyes and steered her thoughts from the Crystal Braves with some effort, listening to the crackle of the fire, the scrape of the wooden spoon against cast iron. X’shasi looked over at Fray, evening light gilding the edge of his black armor. He did not fidget—did not move at all, the tense set of his shoulders betraying his displeasure.

There was the rustle of canvas as Gundobald emerged from his tent, seeming surprised to see her sitting there beside the fire. “Kilntreader,” he said, the name a gust of breath. “What are you doing here?” “Bringing news,” X’shasi said. “Ala Mhigo is free.” “That much I have heard,” Gundobald said. “The Sultana has decreed her support of a resettlement effort for Gyr Abanian expatriates. There are job opportunities, and homes …” “And she sent you herself to tell us?” Gundobald asked, seeming amused. “No,” X’shasi said, “this is an undertaking of my own making.” “Well,” Gundobald said, “most of the young left when the Flames gave word they’d be supporting the Resistance, more’n a year ago.” “But it’s safe now,” X’shasi said. “The Resistance have turned their efforts toward patrols, with Alliance support, and the hunt clans have taken care of the fiercest beasts. Everyone could go home.” Didn’t they want to? Her heart ached for the fact that she could not stay—but then, remaining in Ala Mhigo would have left her feelings no less tender. “That’s a long road,” Gundobald said, “and it has its own dangers. The Corpse Brigade, for one thing. They know they’re not welcome, not after what they done, so if they can’t go back, they’ll make sure none of us can either. We lost a few that way already.” X’shasi flicked her gaze toward Fray, not turning her head. She saw him give a fraction of a nod. “We’ll deal with them,” she promised. “In the morning, we’ll—” “We’ll go tonight,” Fray interrupted. “Or we could go tonight,” X’shasi said crossly. Gundobald looked at her with a bemused air. “Well, whenever you go … I, at least, will be grateful.” Fray said no more, only shook his head as he turned away, making for the wooden palisades of the camp. “I should—I’ll be back when we’re done,” X’shasi said, then turned to hustle after Fray.

The night sky over the Sagolii was darker than any she’d seen in some time. These were the stars of her girlhood, the ones she’d retreated to after the Calamity. Fray was looking up at them, his arms crossed over his chest. X’shasi slung the baldric across her body.

“I thought you’d take longer,” Fray said. “Or did you finally realize they don’t want you there?” X’shasi sighed. “Then the Sepulchre’s the perfect place for me to go, isn’t it?” she asked, tone grim. “You didn’t even stop to retrieve your bird.” “We’ll walk,” Fray said, suiting deed to word. “So we really are going now? We’re going to attack in the dead of night?” “Yes,” Fray said simply. “That’s not really the fairest fight,” X’shasi said. “A fair fight is overrated,” Fray opined. “That kind of thinking will get you killed.

“So, what did you do to make them resent you so much? Those are your countrymen, aren’t they?” “Yes,” she said. “That’s half the trouble.” Her tail flicked behind her in annoyance, counterbalancing her steps. The wastes of Broken Water looked strange in the moonlight, bleached by the single moon. “A few years ago, the young people here thought they would summon Rhalgr—our patron god—to help them free Ala Mhigo and avenge the wrongs done them in exile. I put a stop to that.” “They should be grateful,” Fray said. “If they’re too weak to solve their own problems, they should at least be grateful to you for doing it for them.” “They were,” X’shasi said. “That’s the problem. About a year after that, when the Crystal Braves were formed—did you hear about all that?” she broke off to wonder. “I know all about that,” Fray muttered. “One of the young men I saved during my first visit here died because the Braves’ commander, Ilberd, was double-crossing us. And then he came back here and riled everyone up with his speeches about Ala Mhigo, and more of them died at Baelsar’s Wall and in the war that followed.” X’shasi kicked a rock ahead of her on the path with a sigh. “It was the same on the other side of the wall,” she told him. “Ilberd took half, and … Zenos yae Galvus took the rest, and I took what was left.” “That’s hard to forgive,” Fray said. “Maybe that’s the other half,” X’shasi admitted. “When Zenos stood trial, one of the refugees that had lived here testified against him.” “And?” “And I testified on his behalf,” X’shasi said, fussing with the lay of the leather strap across her chest. “So you forgave him,” Fray said. “Something like that.” “Maybe you’re not as strong as I thought.”

#smtcy #x'shasi #fray myste #DRK job quest spoilers #original content #starcunning writes #ff14 #nanowrimo

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