#he has heard jamie ramble about that man a little too much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lethal-honey · 1 year

Note

🥃 for Nolan, Aiko, Angelo, Velvet, and Aya: "Most embarrassing thought you had while looking at your significant other while they were not aware you were looking at them?" (let the drunken shit ensue)

Send me ‘ 🥃 ‘ + plus a question, and my muse will answer it while drunk.

“Jamie.... is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen when he has his cat ears out, or when he’s just purring.... or... wait, it was supposed to be embarassing for me, right? Hmm...” He covered his mouth, frowning slightly as he tried to focus, the alcohol making it hard for him to actually remember anything, but he felt like humoring the other. “I love when Jamie’s distracted reading so I can see how peaciful he can be, I guess the thought that embarassed me the most was when I saw him so focused on Lark that it wouldn’t matter what I did he wouldn’t notice. I was glad I got to watch them play and... I wanted to be part of that, I had no idea how to tell him that or how to explain what I was feeling to him or even if I should, but I just felt like I wanted to at least pretend we were a family, even if I was there just to be sure Jamie wasn’t trying to get himself killed and baby Lark was still alright... though... honestly.. I know Jamie is intelligent enough to take care of a child, I just worry about his mental and physical health”

“I love that man!!! I love him so fucking much!! I want to spend an eternity with him! I hate it so much, but I love it so much at the same time! Whenever I look at him and he’s focused on something else I just can’t stop thinking about how handsome he is and how much I wanna kiss him all the time, I wanna have a family with him do you know how serious it is? Do you know how much this man has clearly brainwashed me?! I could be staring at him for the rest of my life, I don’t want anyone else, just him!” She was blushing a lot while not even second guessing herself on just spilling the stuff she kept thinking whenever she caught Demro distracted. She clearly just needed to spill it all out. “He’s perfect I have no idea why he decided to be with me but I love him!”

“Smile says we’re not a couple, but I guess he’s the closest thing I have to a significant other, so I’ll go with him...” The man hummed, trying to remember what he had thought in the moments he had caught himself watching his roommate while he was distracted. “Well... I guess the fact that usually when I see Smile’s distracted cooking he looks so soft and peaceful and enjoying himself that I wanna hug him and rest my head on his shoulder. I don’t do it, I don’t want to invade his personal space, even though I don’t mind it at all when he rests his chin on my leg when I’m playing cello.... am I rambling too much? I just think he looks adorable, I don’t know why people say he’s scary, sure, his culture is kinda scary, but it’s not like he does it without a reason and to just any random person, right? Anyway, I just think he’s huggable”

“I.... hmm... “ She was blushing already, thinking about it “There are so many embarassing things I think whenever I keep looking at him... that’s why I just think them and don’t really say anything... Imagine what would happen if Klea ever heard any of these?” She kept drinking, to make sure she was actually drunk before she said anything, a grimace forming on her face as soon as she felt the taste of alcohol in her mouth. “He looks so pretty, he’s so sweet and patient to me... sometimes he’s a little shit who likes to make fun of me, but you know what... I like it.. don’t tell him that, though, please!” She smiled to herself, the blush only getting darker “Sometimes I just keep watching him play with Bunny or working on his toys and I just want to be close to him and kiss him and, sure, we’re together, I shouldn’t be so embarassed to do those things, I guess, but I just don’t wanna disturb him, and don’t wanna keep him from doing the things he likes. I love his attention, but I love seeing him being calm and enjoying himself working on something he likes more”

“Do I really have to answer this? I was embarassed just by thinking about it...” She took another big sip of her drink, trying to make herself feel a little bit better, maybe “Well, with how Feral is it’s kind of.... hard not to think about everything we do together, though I don’t really think much about his... um... his... dick... but I do catch myself thinking about how he makes me feel with basically no effort on his part, he’s got a talent... I’m not that much into guys, and I sure don’t like Feral just because of that, but did I got lucky when I found him!” She stopped talking for a moment “Uh... those are my embarassing thoughts... usually whenever I look at him and he’s too focused on the dogs I just get a really happy feeling inside me and want to hug and kiss all of them and I just keep thinking about how much I’d like to have a family with him and raise our dogs... who knows we could have ... you know... those are embarassing too, actually... I wouldn’t tell those to Feral...”

#🔫 The Assassin (Nolan IC)#🔫 Are You Here To Hire Me? (Nolan's Asks)#🔪 The Artist (Aiko IC)#🔪 If I'm Honest With You Just Run And Hide (Aiko's Asks)#🎻 The Bartender (Angelo IC)#🎻 Don't You Wanna See The World? (Angelo's Asks)#🔥 The Witch (Velvet IC)#🔥 You Like Tarot? (Velvet's Asks)#🎀 The Fashion Designer (Ayako IC)#🎀 It's Such A Wonderful Life (Ayako's Asks)#descendingxintoxdarkness

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kendallroydefender · 3 years

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Always you (Alex Turner x reader)

A/n: this is not written for any specific era (the gif also has nothing to do with the story he just looks good in it)

TW: the story mentions cheating

Matt, Nick, Jamie and Alex were sitting in a pub, they always met there with some of their old friends every second Saturday if they were free.

Dave, one of said friends, came through the door. Surprisingly without his girlfriend Y/n. Y/n and the boys were friends longer than they knew Dave.

"Hey man!“ Matt greeted him before adding "I thought Y/n wanted to come with you?“ Dave chuckled before saying "Yeah no we broke up.“ at this Alex head perked up. "What? Why?“ Jamie asked him "Just didn’t worked anymore, we needed some space... you know what i mean...“ Alex got his phone out and texted Y/n 'Heard what happened. Are you okay?' He listened to the others before he heard his phone buzzing 'Did you "heard what happened" or did he actually told the truth?‘ said the message and he furrowed his brows. "I’ll be right back.“ Alex mumbled getting up to go call you outside the pub. As he got up Nick and Matt, who sat opposite from each other glanced at each other with knowing looks. Before Y/n and Dave started seeing each other everybody thought it would be Alex and Y/n who ended up together. And to be honest they still hoped on it know, they never met to people who seemed to fit this much.

Outside Alex waited for the call to get picked up "Hello“ You said, Alex noticed right away that you sounded sad. "Hey Y/n/n it’s me.“ he said while lighting up a cigarette "I know you idiot, what’s up?“ you chuckled but he could hear that you weren’t your usual self "Dave turned up without you, and your message made it seem like he wasn’t completely honest so I wanted to check if you’re alright...“ he couldn’t see it but you smiled at his rambling "I’ve been better but I will survive.“ you tried to joke but couldn’t hide the sadness in your voice. "I will come over and we can talk okay? Don’t want you to be alone.“ he asked hopefully and after you agreed he went inside to grab his leather jacked and mumbled something about having to leave. Everyone except your ex knew where the singer was headed.

"Hey“ said as his arms went around you and you hugged him back tightly. His smell calmed you down and made you feel better instantly.

You went inside and sat down on your couch.

"He said you two needed space..“ Alex started and you chuckled without humor "That’s not what happened... Well it would have happened that way if it weren’t for what he did..“ Alex looked at you confused and you took a deep breath "I wanted to break up with him for a few weeks now. I realized that I don’t really love him. But then...“ you couldn’t help for the tears that started to gather in your eyes. Alex arms went around you again "Hey it’s okay.“ he stroked your hair softly "I just feel so worthless now... He cheated on me... with multiple other woman.." Alex felt his heart sink "What?" Was the only thing he could get out "And he told me it was my fault since I’m not enough to make him happy...“ You felt Alex stiffen for a second "Y/n you can’t believe that for even a second! You are one of the greatest people I know!“ you sniffled a little and he hugged you closer, running his hand up and down your back. "You can’t believe that, you deserve so much better than this fucker..“ you wiped your eyes "You really think so?" he nodded "I know so.“ you smiled a little and felt him kiss your head softly. Alex’s arms stayed around you while he rubbed your back soothingly and you nuzzled your head into his neck. "The thing is I’m not even sad that we ended things because there weren’t even feelings anymore but what he did still hurt.“ you rambled and Alex answered "it’s okay to be sad. What he did was a shit thing to do."

"Can you stay over today? I don’t wanna be alone..“ you mumbled the last part and Alex nodded "Of course, let’s order something to eat and we can watch a movie okay?“ you nodded exited.

Later you sat on your couch with him under a shared blanked, the empty food containers on the coffee table, his arm around you and your head resting on his shoulder as you watched some movie. You felt completely at ease in moments like that with Alex. You had a big crush on him before Dave came into the picture, but since you knew him since forever you decided it was best not to date your best friend and Dave kept asking you out so you gave in. And the relationship wasn’t bad at all, you had grown strong feeling for Dave at the beginning but then he showed his slightly controlling side and started to talk down on you a lot.

You felt yourself getting tired and closed your eyes. Alex noticed that your body was leaning into his side more, seeing you so peaceful made a smile appear on his lips. He really liked you and seeing you so hurt made his heart break too, he wouldn’t ever treat you like your ex had. "Time to sleep?“ he asked in a low tone to you and you nodded. Alex got up and held his hands out to pull you up with a smile. You started walking but stopped in your tracks "You‘re staying right?" You asked the dark haired man "If you want me to?“ he said and you nodded "Yeah I really do.“ he smiled and you went to the bathroom. Sleeping in the same bed wasn’t something new for you both, but since you had been dating someone else you hadn’t cuddled with Alex in some time. The prospect of being able to do so again lifted you Mood up a little.

When you changed into a big shirt and some joggers, you saw that Alex was already in bed in the clothes you gave him. When he saw you enter the room he couldn’t help but smile, you were in one of his old the strokes shirts that he left at your flat ages ago. You curled up next to him and smiled sweetly "Thank you Al.“ you mumbled tiredly "For what?“ he asked starting to play with your hair "For being here with me. Being around you always makes me happy.“ he smiled to himself hearing your words "Always Y/n." Alex said sincerely and you yawned a little "I know I made a mistake dating him when it was always you..“ you mumbled before drifting off to sleep. You weren’t supposed to say that, you hadn’t even noticed that you actually said it out loud instead of just thinking it. Alex heart started beating faster when he heard you mumbled that. He hugged you closer to him, wanting you to feel safe even in your sleep. He swore to himself that night that he wouldn’t let you get away again and not let his thoughts get in the way of his love.

You stirred awake the next morning to an empty bed. With furrowed brows you sat up, his place was still warm, that’s when you heard clatter from the other room. You got out of bed and followed the sounds into your kitchen where you found Alex making tea and toast. "Now that’s a sight I could get used to.“ you smiled and he grinned back to you. "You ruined my plan to make you breakfast in bed..“

"Breakfast in bed huh? What did I do to deserve this?“ you leaned against the counter, he got closer to you and pushed a strand of hair out of your face "You don’t have to do anything to be treated good.“ you just smiled at him and he planted a small kiss onto your forehead.

When he was ready he went to your bed with the coffee. You had breakfast in bed and talked. It was a nice and slow morning, just you two together with all the time in the world. It made you wonder if this could have been your life everyday but you got a little disappointed when you suddenly remembered that he would leave in a few hours and you would be alone again. "Hey what’s up with that face?“ Alex asked when he noticed the look you had, he nudged your leg lightly. "It’s nothing.“ you shook you head smiling and hoping he would just let it go. But he raised his eyebrows at you "Y/n." You looked down at your hands and said "I just remembered that I will be without you in a few hours...“ he pulled you towards him and gently took your hands "Hey I’m not going anywhere okay?“ You looked into his brown eyes "I’ll happily stay as long as you’ll have me.“ you bit your lip to stop the smile from growing too big and nodded "I would like that. But I-" "No "buts“. I’m staying." He interrupted you.

You and Alex stayed in your flat for the whole weekend and after that you felt a lot better even if your feelings for Alex were back as strong as ever.

You continued to text a lot more than before trough the week and talked on the phone almost every day. So when two weeks later another pub night was on. You entered the small pub spotting the others rather quickly and sending a small wave at Matt who spotted you first. Alex eyes followed the direction his mate was waving at and when he saw you his eyes lit up immediately. He got up and embraced you into a big hug, after greeting the others you sat down between Katie and Alex. You all catched up and it felt good to see your friends again after skipping the last meet up, however your mood instantly dropped when you saw Dave enter the pub. You tensed up and Alex seemed to notice the change in your behavior his jaw clenched when he saw what caused you to stiffen "What is he doing here?“ Alex mumbled under his breath looking at your Ex who now walked towards your table "Here you all are!“ he laughed but nobody answered him instead Matt said "You have nerve showing your face here...“ Dave just scoffed "Why? Im just having a night out with my mates?“

"You don’t really expect us to be your mates anymore do you?“ Alex said with narrowed eyes, you took his hand under the table and he gave it a squeeze. "So what lies has the slut told you?“ you stared at him getting angry "Excuse me?“ You spat at him he just looked at you with a grin.

"Really guys? You can’t believe her right?“ he asked "How are these lies if I have proof of what happened? Two of the girls messaged me on instagram. Don’t act like that when you know exactly what you did.“ you said angry.

Dave laughed but no one chimed in "I think it’s better if you go now.“ Alex said and your ex boyfriend turned towards him "Really Al you chose her over me?“

"Anytime.“ Alex answered him while his thumb caressed the back of your hand under the table. While Dave searched for words Alex turned towards you, he didn’t wanted you to be in this situation any longer so he asked you "Wanna get another drink?“ and you nodded he stood up and you followed him to the bar.

You ordered your drinks and you took his hand again "Thank you.“ you told him honestly he shook his head slightly, turning his body towards you "No need to thank me Y/n." You wanted to protest but he spoke up again "I like you. I really do and you mean hell of a lot to me.“ you were taken aback a little at his confession but soon a smile broke out on your face "I like you too Alex. So much and I’m sorry i didn’t act upon it until now but-" he pulled you closer to stop your rambling "No sorry’s! We have all the time in the world and no one is going to come in between us anymore. Okay?“. You smiled "Okay.“ "Want to stay at my place tonight?“ You nodded at him "Yeah I’d like that.“ he smiled "And then maybe tomorrow we could go out... like on a date?“ he asked almost shy and your smile only got bigger "Yes, God Alex, Yes!“ you let out in a breath and he chuckled as he pulled you closer, the two of you just looking into each other’s eyes with dopey smiles on their faces. Out of your peripheral you saw that your ex were leaving the pub but you couldn’t care less about what he did. Alex kissed the back of your hand wich was still intertwined with his and you both made your way back to the table where your friends were waiting.

#alex turner x reader #alex turner imagine #alex turner #arctic monkeys imagine

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hiswhiteknight · 4 years

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Unbelievably Outlandish– Part 2

Summary: Before starting down a new crossroads, the Reader goes onto an adventure of literary traveling. Suddenly tossed into an unbelievable story that has swept the world, The Outlander Series itself. How will a twenty first century woman survive?

Note: I own no characters, except reader, clearly this is based off the lovely book series Outlander by Diana Gabaldon and tv show. This follows more the tv show, but it’s far from accurate. I’m going to try to get better with using less proper English, but who knows maybe I’ll get into Scottish slang.

Pairing: Jamie Fraser x Female Reader

Words: 1600

Warning: Angst, playfulness, cursing, slow start

“The firebird is broke, Davy,” you mumbled. Your brain was vibrating, your mind was whizzing about with voices and slight colors.

There were voices all around you, “The lass is waking up,” someone said.

“This isn’t just a bad dream,” you opened your eyes, the images of blurred bodies started to come clearer. Bunch of men were huddled around a little room. With the vision of kilts, you concluded they were the Scottish rebels the Captain was looking for, “Can you guys lower your voices, I believe I have a concussion and your ramblings are really not helping.”

“Who are you,” someone questions.

“What is a concussion?”

“Where are we,” you said trying to completely understand your surroundings.

“We ask the questions here,” another voice said, “What’s your name and where you from?”

You were too exhausted to fight back and too confused to make clear arguments, your head was just fog, “Y/N O’Mulligain and the colonies,” it was all you could say.

A nervous chuckle came over the group, “An Irish woman from colonies?” They were having trouble with the notion of an Irish person living in the colonies at this time. You were not sure of the facts, but having clear thoughts was a struggle at this point, “Why are you here?”

You rubbed your head, trying not to chuckle at the realization of your current reality. You rolled your eyes, laughing while thinking of the woman you last saw before this moment, “Adventure.”

“No,” someone yelled. You winced with the sound, “Ya should have seen the girl. She battled Captain Randall, she knocked him out. I’m not sure what she is, or who, but I bet my best shirt she isn’t a spy.”

“It doesn’t matter,” another voice said, “Randall is going to be looking for us. We need to go, we need to get Jamie out of here before-.”

Another voice spoke up, “Why don’t we leave the witch, Randall might want her more since she beat him? Slow him down.”

“No,” another voice yelled, wincing. By the sound he was making, he was in some pain, “We are not about leaving another person to the British.”

“Jamie, how bad is it? Can you ride,” your vision was coming to. I didn’t know the story of Outlander, but you got the guise this guy was the Jamie that supposedly was more dreamy than Mr. Darcy, which you knew was to be completely impossible.

You still haven’t gotten your vision focused and the room was lit only by fire near the chimney, “Hurts sitting still, couldn’t manage a horse.”

From what you could gauge, his shoulder was dislocated, “We got to put it back.”

All the man group around this man, they were just going to pull his shoulder up with force. You started to laugh, “You are all so dumb,” you laughed again, with them all turning to you, “You’re going to be breaking the man’s arm like that.”

You tried to stand, still using the chair for balancing, “What do you know of it? You a healer?”

Shaking your head, “No, my brother used to get injured every other day. I had to learn how to take care of his countless injuries.”

You started to walk up to the man known as Jamie. When you saw him with fresh eyes you could feel your cheeks blush. He truly was a man fit to his description, what a Greek god. Everyone just looked at you in confusion and distrust, looking like they had no idea what you were saying, “May I,” I push into the group, asking the red head if it was alright to help him with this injury.

He nodded, “This is going to hurt,” you hit one of the guys shoulders, pointing at this Jamie character, “You’ll need to hold him down.” The men steadied him, “Jamie is it,” you ask gently. He nodded quickly, “This is going to hurt, I mean really hurt.” He nodded understanding what had to be done, “I’ll go on the count of three.” He took a deep breathe, you moved his arm into the right place, “One,” before you could get to two you snapped it back in place.

Jamie grunted, but instantly looked relieved, “Thought you said on three,” he looked up at you.

“Just an old trick, I didn’t want you to be thinking of the pain,” you shrugged, rubbing your arms together as you crossed them, “I’m sorry,” looking down at you feet become instantly shy all over again. You not really good with strangers unless your professional life needed it. You whispered, “You just got to keep off the shoulder, massage, and heat will help. Does anyone have a belt or cloth?”

The man in charged looked to another man and demanded a belt. You slipped it around his body trying not to get into your own brain about this situation. Not only were you out of your comfort zone, but you were out of anything you’ve ever known. Jamie nodded, watching you closely, “Let’s get the horses, we’ve got to go.”

“I’ll let you guys go, I’ll just be on my way back,” you started, but your arm was grabbed and spun around.

“You’re coming with us mistress, until we get some more answers.”

“You aren’t the boss of me, mister,” you said back to him.

“More like prisoner,” he answered, smiling, “Jamie, you’ll ride with the spy.”

“I’m not a spy,” you yell back, “I’m just a woman, taking an innocent stroll through the very lovely forest of Scotland.”

“A regular lady, in pants. Sure,” one guy laughed at you.

The man in charged approached you, gripping your arm harshly. It took you ever once of your control not to swing around and smash him right in the jaw, “You stay close by us, try anything and I’ll slit your throat.” You stopped breathing for the second, “Come on, give me your foot,” the grumpy guy barked at me.

You gripped Jamie’s hand and mounted the horse, “Haven’t you ridden a horse,” he whispered after feeling your fidgeting. You shook your head ‘no’ quickly. Being on this horse with this man felt so intimate and it didn’t help it was raining. You didn’t have much clothing for this weather, and you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into. Jamie started to make motions from behind you, “Excuse me, what do you think you’re doing,” you harshly whisper back to him.

“You’re shivering,” he stated, “Seeing if my plaid loose can help cover you lass.”

“I’m not cold, I’m from Pennsylvania we have harsher winters than this,” you said more to yourself than him, “This is just spritzing,” you motion to the rain.

“I’m not sure what any of that means, but,” he chuckled, his breath tickling your neck, “You are shaking so hard you’re making my teeth chatter,” he chuckled again, especially when you helped him wrap it around your waist.

Turning around, slightly bumping his shoulder you ask, “We are going to ride till sunrise?”

“Probably the next as well,” he grinned again.

You rolled your eyes, you had to start formulating a plan to get back to those damn rocks, and hoping they worked once again.

You woke to the sun beaming down, you were not sure when you fell asleep. The sun was up and shining, it was beautiful and felt so good to be out of the rain, “Sleep well,” Jamie asked something from behind.

Forgetting he was almost there, you pulled forward. Honestly, his warm felt so nice, which is probably why you fell asleep so easily, “How long have I been sleeping?”

Someone rode past, saying something in Gaelic and chuckling with the group. You proceeded to flip him off, which you instantly forgot they had no idea the gesture, “Just a few hours. You haven’t missed anything.”

You nodded, looking around you. Scotland was for sure dense and you could walk for days and only see one person, but it felt weird to let your guard down. Redcoats were all about this area at this time and place, “Shouldn’t you be worrying about the British raids? I would imagine they’d be rustling about this area,” you said to him. He chuckled but didn’t answer. Your eyes were drawn to this rocky mountain in the distance, “That out there, it looks like a-?”

“Back of a cock’s tail. Aye, Cocknammon Rock.”

Turning to look back at him. You were trying to remember what your friend had said about the books and the show, “I am serious. Don’t you find it strange we haven’t heard anything from the redcoats?”

He watched you carefully, not knowing where you were going with this conversation, “What do you mean?”

Turning back to look at him better, “The locals know the area better than anyone, but still the redcoats catch outlaws and rob villagers,” he still looked confused. “That up there, that high point is most likely where some redcoats watch, for the vantage point of seeing travelers down here.”

He looked down in thought for a second, before nodding, “That’s a bonnie place for an ambush right enough,” he quickened up to the front, “Dougal.”

They started to speak in what you imagined to be Gaelic and you could imagine they were talking about how suspicious your account was and whether it could be good information or not. The man named Dougal leaned into whisper to you, “You’ll be telling me how you come to know there’s an ambush up ahead.”

“I just do,” you answered quickly, “I have military experience and I’m telling you – the odds are high that there is an ambush ahead.”

Staring deeply at you, “You’ll be explaining more when we get back?”

“Get back? What do you-,” Dougal yelled something in Gaelic and you were met with the loss of my breath.

Jamie looked down at you, “Hide and don’t be going far.”

PART 3

#jamie fraser imagine #jamie frazier x reader #jamie fraser #jamie fraser imagines #outlander imagine #outlander fanfiction #outlander

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darlingsdevil · 3 years

Text

Of The Valley (Joel x Reader)

Chapter 9: I Sense There’s Something in The Wind (Part 1)

Summary: Life in Jackson is never easy. Consoling angsty teenagers, wading through the mysterious waters of Joel’s romance language and with a child of your own on the way? Life is about to get a lot harder.

Masterlist

RDR2 Masterlist

Tag list (comment to be added): @sidepuff @joelsheartache @fangirl-inthe-us @scarletpines @mikah-writes @sleepylunarwolf @mr-robot-x @shybookdragon @heughan @writer-jamie @nelliecraine

A/N: *sigh* so much has happened since I last updated. School royally beat me up, I’m constantly tired and have no motivation to write, left a toxic boyfriend! Life has not been kind to me recently but I am trying my best to live it up and learn, but at least I am doing well in school. Sacrifice your sanity to do well in school I guess. I got a guitar too.. okay now I’m just rambling. Updates will be slower as time continues. Constantly fatigued and getting four hours of sleep a night doesn’t work well.

Happy spooky season

This chapter will be in two parts since I couldn’t find the motivation to write the rest of the chapter on Halloween.

•••

Life was quiet until the festival and party, like it had been for months prior. Decorations were put up, apples were picked from the orchards just outside town, costumes were made, pumpkins carved, ghost stories told. The festival was only two days, the first day being the children’s night and day activities, the second being the Halloween party.

Maria gave everyone who’s job wasn’t totally necessary the day off. Which meant the bar closed. You were more than happy to have two days of rest. You purchased two pumpkins this year, carving a ghost into one and a goofy face into another, you were going to light them the night of the party. The first day of the festival — children’s night, where the kids threw a mini parade around town in their costumes and carved pumpkins and got a free bar of candy from the confectionar. They played games, ghost in the graveyard being a popular one when it got dark outside, of course however, Maria limited their playing field. You watched the parade during the day and then you went home. The kids made makeshift noise makers and adults lined the streets as the kids walked by, laughing, smiling, shouting, it was all good fun.

You weren’t sure whether you were going to dress up or not, no ideas came to mind. Last year you went as an angel and a devil with Mark, hence his nickname Devil Boy, his birthday was October 30th, the first day of the celebration.

Today was his birthday. You hadn’t spotted Joel or Ellie at the parade, you briefly said hi to Maria and Tommy, as well as Dina. You were sure Ellie and Cat were dreading cleanup, as well as the other teenagers. You wondered if Ellie and Dina had made up yet, or had her and Cat.

After the parade, there wasn’t much to do. You took down the flowers on your porch, you trimmed the bushes outside, cut the grass, washed the windows, dusted the house, scrubbed the floors. Your house was beginning to feel lively again, like a brand new fresh start. It took a few hours to complete all your tasks, taking short breaks in between. By the time you were finished, night had fallen. You were nervous about tomorrow, were things going to end up like the last night you had spent with Joel? Mark was gone.. you didn’t need to worry about him. Were you ready for that? Sure, you had asked for him to take you.. but were you ready to go that far? There was uneasiness between both of you, feelings wouldn’t change that. You would have to talk, have him listen, pray he would understand. Was now a good time to tell him everything?

You rested your hand over your bump as you sat on the couch, watching an old soap opera you had on DVD. The baby was definitely getting bigger. It was hard to think about it, but a small part of you was excited. There was the thought of names, baby clothes, toys. You wondered if it was a girl or boy. It was strange to think of a baby who looked like Mark.. it would be hard to look at the baby and not see him in his final moments. You already occasionally thought you saw him for a fleeting moment, down the corner of the street, in the crowd of the filled bar, a passerby holding themself the same way he did.

How would you even tell Joel? There was so much you needed to say, there was time, there was just too much that needed to be said. Joel had enough on his plate, maybe you wouldn’t tell him at all and continue on for the rest of your life blissfully ignoring him. That was too cruel though. Your relationship with Joel was.. complicated. You left things off for three months on an unfinished note, at least he was open to going on a date with you.

There were other people to tell too. If you gave birth, people would begin asking around for Mark. The truth would come out eventually. You always knew it would. Perhaps you will have thought of a lie by then. Perhaps he left to join a group of free spirited clicker killing hippies. That seemed like a good enough lie as any.

But for now, you wanted to rest. You wanted to sit back and watch the tide roll in, without a worry in your mind.

•••

“Welcome miss..?” The man began.

“Y/N,” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his.

“Tommy. Welcome,” He smiled warmly. You had finally found the esteemed settlement after weeks of travel.

“Mark,” Mark said, shaking Tommy’s hand, marveling at the sight of the town. Tommy had stopped you while you checked in and got acquainted with the town, already having a talk with Maria.

“Where you guys coming from? Always good to see some new faces round here.”

“I’m from Denver,” Mark told him.

Tommy’s face paled very slightly, not even you or Mark noticed.

“How are things there? Heard some stuff went down a while back.”

“Not too sure, I left right when things got messy.” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“And you?” Tommy looked towards you, waiting for your response.

“Oh, all over. Living on my own last few years, besides Mark here of course.” You beamed at Mark.

“How did you two meet?” This was starting to sound more like an interrogation, but you pushed it to the side, they were only being cautious. Maria already heard your and Mark’s story, others would want to as well.

“I found her a few months ago, passing through a town when I saw a group get overrun by a horde. I was trying to hide in an apartment building when I fell right into her camp. Almost blew my head off, but hey, gotta stay sharp,” Mark chuckled.

“He told me about a settlement up in Wyoming, I decided it was worth a shot so we ended up here, had nowhere else to go,” You finished.

“Well glad you two made it safe and sound, welcome to Jackson.”

You woke up in a coldsweat, dazed from sleep. Your hand on your bump, you realized, you must have done it in your sleep.

Mark. His baby. You glanced over at your clock. 11:34 PM. Technically still his birthday.

Last year, you managed to find vintage band posters for him for his birthday. You made him cake too, then you snuck out and went to the lake and watched the stars. They looked different than what you remembered, even though you lived under them, there was something serene about being there. Silence, waters reflecting the moonlight, and stars, the only thing you could see for miles. It was peaceful, quiet, yet it was full of life.

And so when you found yourself climbing the steps into his loft, sitting on his dusty bed with his dog tags resting on your neck, the moonlight streaming in from the curtains, just a sliver open, far enough to see a star. Perhaps they looked the same, maybe they were the same. Maybe you were the one who had changed.

“I’m pregnant,” You whispered into the silence.

“I’m pregnant and it’s yours, Mark.”

No echo, no cabinet slamming shut down stairs, no creaking footsteps. Silence.

“Happy birthday,” You said out loud as you closed the door.

•••

The night of the party, you lit your pumpkins when it got dark and headed to Joel’s house. You hadn’t seen much of him since he had been over, you talked to him briefly one morning, but your schedules were always conflicting. You were nervous about seeing him. Being close to him again.

You found an old cat costume from years ago. A cat headband, a clip on tail, all black clothes. It was simple enough. Since you had been wearing Mark’s dogtags so much, you decided to opt with them, not wearing them felt like you were missing some part of yourself. You doubted Joel would dress up, he wouldn’t be out of place if he didn’t, and you wouldn’t be out of place in your costume either. It was 50/50.

You were surprised to see pumpkins out by Ellie’s house as you entered through the gate, your heart strumming loudly. It looked like she had carved some strange face into a pumpkin, you would have to ask her what it was supposed to be later.

You knocked on Joel’s door, starting down at your shoes, the cold air nipping at your skin. He answered almost immediately.

“How do I look?” You said smugly, turning so he could see your tail, doing a little twirl as you did. He wasn’t wearing a costume — like you expected.

“Dashing. You ready to go?” He smiled.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

It was an exceptionally short walk to the church and bonfire. Jackson was a small city, especially considering Joel lived right next to Main Street. They had decorated the streets quite nicely, pumpkins, hay bales, corn stalks, squash, a warm glow seemingly in every window. The leaves twirling around like fire.

The church came into view, the bonfire in the backyard of the church. Groups of people walked in, you could hear the music from here. Joel walked close to you, which you noticed. Close enough, but far enough to not be super suspicious.

He held the door open for you, the music becoming loud as he did. Mark told you once that he loved the rhythms of music, that he could feel the pulse in him, that’s why he liked music so much. Perhaps you could get the person in charge of music to play Bill Withers..

Shit. What if someone asked about Mark? Would they notice? What would you even say? That he was sick? How long until someone would really go looking for him?

Would Joel notice your small bump? You tried to wear baggy clothes. You didn’t have to worry about Maria spilling your secrets — she was trustworthy.

Inside of the church, the party was booming. It smelt of cinnamon and leaves, whiskey and good times. It seemed like all of Jackson was there. People in simple costumes, others dressing normally. You spotted Maria and Tommy, Tommy nodded at you two when you entered.

The song they played was very folksy and upbeat. A crowd had already started dancing, you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face. No sign of Ellie, but you did spot Cat, as well as Jessie and Dina. On opposite sides of the room of course.

“So, what do you want to do? Drinks?” Joel asked as he led you to the side of the room.

“Oh no, I’m good for now, but don’t stop yourself from getting one.” .

“Sure thing,” Joel replied, setting off to the makeshift bar table that was set up.

You watched the people dance, remembering how Mark used to pull you into the circle.

“Come on Y/N! It’ll be fun!” Mark laughed, trying to pull you over to the circle.

“Nope. I’m not doing it.”

“Well you’re going to. I don’t care, you have to.” He yanked you forward, pulling you to the dancefloor.

You stood stiffly as a rock. You felt like every eye in the room was on you, even though you really knew they could care less, caring more about nursing a drink or trying to hear the latest gossip.

The music was upbeat and fast, good dancing music. He slowly began to dance, one eyebrow cocked to invite you to join him. The room was orange and bright, it seemed like it was glowing.

“Come on,” He said with a singsong tone. Grabbing your arm and shaking it to the beat.

His dancing became more loose and free, smiling the entire time, a twinkle in his eye. He took your arm and twirled you and leaned you into his arms.

“It’s pretty easy.”

“Not for me,” You grumbled as the music ended.

A slower song came on and Mark groaned, his devil horns tilted slightly on his head. “Alright, looks like we have to slow dance now.” He grabbed your arms and locked them around his neck, then placed his hands on your waist. His hands were like tiny firecrackers on you, every touch sparking as his fingertips gently rubbed against your hips. He was passion.

“You know it’s easier if you just give in.”

“Never,” You hissed playfully.

“Well then just sway with me. That’s all we gotta do, sway,” He told you softly. You rolled your eyes, but you gave in.

The music channeled through him. You liked watching it overcome him, his eyes becoming distant like the music was speaking to him.

“Do you think everyone is looking at us?” You asked, glancing around the room.

Mark gently returned to the surface, “Why would they be looking? Only you and me and the music right now.”

You fought the urge to kiss him. You didn’t want people looking. You had kissed him so many times before, but there was that nagging feeling in you. Like a shadow that trailed you. A thought pushed to the back of your mind.

As if on cue, Mark’s eyes trailed lower to your lips, he leaned in gently to you, as if he were to break under your touch. His lips met yours and a heavy feeling underneath a spark set in. An undercurrent of rapid waters that threatened to pull you under.

Who was watching you?

Joel came back with his drink, a glass of whiskey.

You glanced over at the drink, humor in your voice, “Heavy hitters so soon?”

Joel chuckled lightly, taking a sip from his drink.

“You sure you don’t want anything?” He asked you. You shook your head.

“Alright well a few more drinks and I’ll be out there on the dancefloor in no time.”

“Didn’t take you as much of a dancer, cowboy.”

“Oh, I’m not. More like a dying chicken with its head cut off,” He laughed, shaking his head. Couples bounced to the music. You couldn’t remember ever having seen Joel dance, then again at parties you were almost always preoccupied.

“Do you want to head outside to the bonfire?” You asked him, seeing the glow through the windows.

“Yeah.”

You led him to the backyard where the more mellow crowd was. It was crisp outside, and awfully cold, you wished you would had brought a better jacket.

The sky was crystal clear and the stars were brilliant. The only truly good thing you could think of that came out of the apocalypse was no more light pollution. The stars were true and had looked that way for years.

The fire was large and powerful, it crackled and hissed but the warmth was inviting. Groups of people chatted around the fire, Joel led you to a fallen log by the fire where you could sit.

The party chatter and the muffled sound of the music could still be heard from outside, the looming walls right next the church wasn’t the best view, but the stars were all you needed.

“Nice night, huh?” Joel asked, looking up to the sky.

“Yeah,” You said, your teeth chattering slightly. You rubbed your hands together and aimed them towards the fire. Joel had brought a jacket at least.

“Do you want my jacket?”

You blinked. “No, no, it’s fine, I’ll just uh..” You trailed off, you wanted his jacket.

Joel chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He shrugged off his leather jacket and placed it around you. You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t just because of the fire, you turned your head away and looked down briefly.

You looked back up at the stars, receiving courage from those little stamps of light. You leaned your head against his shoulder. He was warm, he felt safe, like a blanket wrapped around you. It was a natural feeling. You pulled his jacket up so it covered your neck. You wanted to stay like this forever.

God, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to tilt your head up and place a gentle kiss on his lips. You wanted to kiss him in front of the stars, you wanted to kiss him in front of the fire, you wanted to kiss him on the dancefloor. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to feel the way he felt against you, you wanted to share that sacred feeling like you’re the only two people in the world again.

But no, you couldn’t. Three months and you ghosted him. He was rightly upset with you. There were things you had to say. But he was here now, going on a date with you, giving you his jacket. The feelings were still there it seemed. A part of you was relieved.

You let yourself fully relax, he placed an arm around your shoulder.

You stayed like that for awhile, simply watching the fire crackle and the stars twinkle. Time was no foe anymore.

In a way it felt like Mark was there too, maybe it was the fact that it was Halloween, maybe it was the strange imbalance of practically everything in your life. It felt like he was there and he was smiling at you.

Joel was smiling too.

•••

#joel x reader #otv #tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou x reader #tlou 2 #tlou 2 fanfiction #joel miller x reader #the last of us part ii #fanfiction

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adsosfraser · 3 years

Text

The Stone’s Toll Chapter Two

Read on AO3

“Mrs. Randall, ye have a visitor.” Claire stared at the nurse, curiosity plain on her face.

She left and softly closed the door behind her. Minutes later, Claire heard the click of the lock again and strained her neck towards the noise.

Graham smiled sheepishly as he shuffled into her room. He held a small bouquet of heather, thistles, and gorse wrapped in twine.

“Hello miss, tis lovely tae see ye again. I picked these just this afternoon on my way here. I was lucky they were all so close together.” The boy searched the room and put the flowers in the empty vase on the table to her right. “I don’t know if ye remember, but I found you up at the standing stones. Well my mam always said to watch out for the faerie hill but I was a wee bit curious ye ken. I’m glad I took a wander over because… sorry miss my mam always tells me how I go blethering on about nonsense and such so that’s just to say I hope you are feeling better miss..?”

“Claire Fr.. err Randall.” Claire couldn’t help the smile at the young man's youth and almost naïveté, it was a breath of fresh air compared to the ordeals of the past months.

She reached out her hand for him to shake.

“It was very kind of you to come visit Graham. Thank you.” He blushed at her compliment.

“Well I brought some cards because I ken how boring it is to be locked up in one of these rooms. And the radio is a pounding nuisance sometimes as well. Last year I stumbled on one of the fence posts I was putting up when I was helping down at auld Hamish’s. The nail went straight through the leg and I ended up here a day. Mam was absolutely furious at me, boxed my ears till they rang for weeks. My mam’s a nurse here so it’s no trouble at all that I’m here right now visiting. I guess I get special insider privileges. I come here after school to do my schoolwork and she says I’m no bother. That’s what I was just doing before I decided to pop in here Miss.”

Claire welcomed the ramblings of Graham. It was a nice distraction to the morbid thoughts that lay festering below.

“Well I appreciate the company. My… husband just left to prepare things for our short stay here. I’m sorry I’m rubbish at most card games, but I’ll go my hand at it.”

The two chatted companionably and he even managed to pry out a laugh or two from her. Claire pushed down feelings of familiarity of Fergus and the boy before her. He couldn’t have been more than a couple years older than the boy she had just left behind hours ago, with the same long-lashed dark eyes and dark hair. Tears sprung at the thought of her son and she turned out of view to wipe them away.

“Do you have any fours?” Graham interrupted her thoughts.

“Ach! It feels like I’m being cheated here.” Claire flashed a smile and pushed forward the two cards on the table between them.

“Hello darling. It seems you’ve made a new friend.”

Claire stiffened at her husband's entrance into the small hospital room. Graham flicked his gaze between the two of them, sensing the tension. He awkwardly picked up the game in front of them and shoved the cards into his pocket.

“Yes. This is Graham Munro, the one who helped me to the hospital.”

“Thank you for bringing my wife safely back into my custody Graham. I’m sure she has lots to tell me, and would appreciate time to rest.”

Graham cleared his throat. “Well Miss Claire, I wish ye a speedy recovery. Twas a pleasure to meet ye.”

“You as well Graham. Thank you for the flowers.”

The boy reached out to squeeze Claire’s hand and smiled warmly. He turned on his heel and raced out to the corridor.

Moments later, Frank shoved the table to the side and knelt by his wife’s side. He reached out to hold the hands that rested on her lap. Claire flinched at his touch once again and Frank furrowed his brow. Frank felt a squeeze in his hand and smiled up at her. She put on a strained smile as she stared down at him. He finally noticed the silver that encircled her right ring finger and made to take it off. She pulled her hand violently from his grasp and guarded the jewellry to her chest. He pushed off the reaction to the shock the doctor had described. He just needed to be patient.

“Darling, everything is prepared at the manse for our arrival. You’ll rest here tonight, recover, heal, and then I’ll bring you over in the morning. I left your suitcase there and I’m sure you’ll have enough to get you through our stay.” He walked over to a chair near the window while he spoke and placed her stays in his hands.

“Alright.” Her gaze was transfixed on her fingers in her lap.

“This is… remarkable Claire, where on earth did you find these?”

“Hmph.” Claire offered as a reply, almost mimicking the Scottish noise her husband always made.

“Right I’m to leave with Reverend Wakefield to visit over some archives again. You’ll be in good hands here for now.”

A nurse wheeled in a cart and instructed Claire to rest. She gathered the sterile bandages from the metal tray and pulled back the cover of Claire’s hospital gown to display the burns flicking across the cream skin of her stomach. She winced as the nurse applied the salve against her sore skin so she took pity on her poor patient. The nurse pushed a syringe into her IV line and Claire’s limbs instantly relaxed. Her head filled with cotton and she wasn’t able to hold it up herself, until she let go of the tension within herself and slumped down on the stiff mattress.

It was cold and she was only in her shift, a white shawl draped across her shoulders. Piles of men dotted the ground and a bunny twitched its nose at her before sprinting away. There, underneath the corpse of his enemy, lay her husband. His body was covered in blood and crusted with dirt and deep scratches marked his body: the result of war.

“Are you alive?” She stretched her hand out towards his cheek.

Her hand cupped his stumbled jaw and his skin blazed against hers. The fever shook his body and sapped his energy. What little he had left was spent twisting his neck in her direction. A light dusting of snow covered the bloody grass of the moor. All too soon, she was pulled away and the sight of him faded from her grasp.

***

The hours passed and the logs burned to small sticks, Frank replacing them every so often with new wood. He turned towards the table that held a half-empty glass, plying himself more and more with alcohol as the glass drowned in the weight of the drink. Claire worked tirelessly the precious few days where her husband hadn’t yet pressed her for an explanation, flipping through all available resources to find any trace of Jamie. Mrs. Graham had been a wonder in helping Claire but her attitude regardless would not have changed anything. The search was futile and failed to bring what she wanted. She couldn’t look for the family that was alive that she had left behind. The sacrifice and promise she made meant nothing with the outcome that soon became her every thought. She abandoned them all for a thought of a future, not even a live, breathing one.

She spoke of her time with Jamie, reluctantly giving only the necessary pieces of her life, an outline that she would be able to view events from outside. She stepped out of her life and watched herself ramble on, an outsider and onlooker to a tragic event. That wasn’t her, those things couldn’t have happened to her. Claire finished her final thoughts in a daze, looking anywhere but Frank.

“Give me-excuse me please Claire I need some time to think this over.”

Claire poured another glass for herself and slammed the burning liquid back along with a large pill from the hospital.

Frank returned a few hours later, having thought in great depth. Claire’s thoughts were muddled. She couldn’t remember how many glasses she had.

“Claire I can accept that you’ve had this… relationship with this man. I will never understand your feelings for him, but I can accept that you had this experience, and that leaving him broke your heart.”

“I don’t think you understand. I was with a man for two years, and I loved him deeply as his wife.”

“A point you’ve made several times and which I’ve said I understand. Now let me tell you this. I love you Claire, unconditionally, nothing you could do could stop my loving you.”

“Darling I’ve been offered a position at Harvard. I was thinking we could move to Boston together. Start over. Leave all...this behind.”

She didn’t care. He was dead. She might as well have been too. Frank could do as he bloody well pleased. Her mind focused on the patterns of the carpet below her, forcing out any other thoughts. Her finger swirled in spirals in one spot on her thigh, mimicking what she saw.

“Alright. ”

That was the first time Claire had looked into his eyes since her disappearance. His brown eyes were soft and crinkled in an attempt towards a smile to his wife. She couldn’t find the malice she desperately searched for. She needed the anger, the sharp coldness. It was too much. Frank kneeled at Claire’s feet and he reached to pull her down into his embrace. He brought her down to his chest. She stiffened.

“Claire, you've made me so happy. I know we’ll be happy. Together.”

“T-together? You mean for me to come along?”

“Of course, darling. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Claire only nodded in response. She knew she’d never be happy with Frank anymore, or anyone for that matter. She didn’t intend to live long, but what option did she have to resist a husband? Frank kissed her curls and pulled her head to his shoulder. He sniffled and pulled back, placing both hands gently on her face.

“But we must put the past behind us. You must promise me. No more searching for him. Let him go.”

“Yes. That’s what he made me promise.” She was reminded of another promise she had broken and another pang stabbed her already distressed heart.

#jamie fraser #claire fraser #jamie x claire #outlander fanfiction #frank randall #craigh na dun #fergus fraser #canon divergence #outlander fanfic

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drunklander · 4 years

Text

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 512

Looking for a way to spend Mother’s Day? Well, we here at Outlander have the perfect idea! Celebrate with the women you love by watching us gang rape grannie!

This episode is like the perfect storm of everything that is wrong with Outlander. The cast and crew saying it’s their strongest episode yet when it’s basically artsy gang rape. The CYA trigger warnings when the story would have worked perfectly well without including yet another rape. The kool aid-drinking fans yelling at and acting holier than thou at the fans who rightfully call out the massive problem this show has with rape and assault. The fans yelling at other fans because It’S iN tHe BoOk so it has to be included. The fans yelling at other fans for wanting to follow the books but not wanting rape every 0.5 seconds. The fans yelling at other fans to fuck off if they don’t like the show. The women in the cast throwing out trigger warnings while the men are radio silent or wanting the gladiators to face the plague and fight for their own amusement. It literally has everything.

And I am tired.

I’ve been in this fandom for six years and have had quite a journey. From first discovering the show and immediately devouring the books. The honeymoon period where I could headcanon out all the problematic bits. The getting deep into the fandom nonsense. The getting out of the fandom nonsense. The judging the fandom nonsense because it’s funny and they’re all idiots. The getting sick of the fandom nonsense because it’s not even fun to judge the dummies anymore. The becoming more and more aware that it’s impossible to whistle past the problems in the books and the show. The sticking around, holding out hope things might turn around and the initial magic could be recaptured. And finally, the giving up.

The books are trash. The show is trash. There are a handful of good scenes in each which can be enjoyed on their own, but as a whole, holy shit this stuff is not good. (Seriously, I tried to do a Fiery Cross reread before the season started. I started like a year ago and am still only at Jocasta’s wedding because I just don’t care enough to actually get through it.)

Which brings us here. I am tired. I have already ranted and raged and yelled and swore and wrote far too many words about the gratuitous overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. It fucking has its own tag for fuck’s sake.

So here’s a recap. And then I think I’m done looking at this show in detail. Not because the idiot fans insist on coming to my notes to tell me to fuck off if I don’t like the show. Not because the crew are condescending douchecanoes. Not because the author is a misogynist garbage heap. But because spending an hour of my time for a few weeks out of the year to write these things isn’t worth it. I did it for as long as I did because it took so little time. So why not? But yeah, it’s not even worth that tiny commitment anymore.

And to the people who I know will @ me about how no one was forcing me to stick around and I could have quit any time, yeah, no shit captain obvious, I know that. Fuck off already. I stuck around because I really liked the little corner of the fandom that I’d found. I made some awesome friends. Most of those friends have since quit the fandom. I’m really glad to have them in my life outside of this little corner of the internet. And it was a fun writing exercise. I don’t really like the show anymore, but I enjoyed building an argument about why I don’t like it and think it’s bad that has valid points behind it. Especially considering how blindly overly adoring a bunch of the fandom is about it. But now I think I’d rather consume Outlander content as pretty people in pretty period costumes in gifsets. Or like, on in the background but not really paying close attention. Why not quit altogether? Because to quote the great Ron Swanson (I’m halfway through a Parks rewatch and I just love that show a lot ok.), I can do what I want. And besides, there’s like a fucking library’s worth of fics that I haven’t read and have been meaning to. And I like the characters enough to want to keep reading about them in stories that are better than the canon. (Bless you fic writers, blesssss.)

So. Was this whole ramble self-indulgent and overly serious for a fucking TV show? Absofuckinglutely. But please see the aforementioned Swansonism.

Alright, fuckos. Let’s do this.

This is a Roberts brainchild, isn’t it. *checks credits* Yup. Knew it. This feels very much like a Roberts special. In that he is probs quite pleased with himself but like, it’s crap.

Yes, we ARE doing ANOTHER rape story! But look! It’s a disassociation montage! It’s the ‘60s, get it?! There are callbacks! An orange from the king in season 2! A vase from season 1! A rabbit from season 3! An amber-looking dragonfly! Jamie with the young hair spouting off book lines! ApPrEcIaTe MuH aRt! We are so good at finding new and creative ways to rape our characters! Fuck off, twatwaffle. You are the worst.

Like, does Roger feel left out at this point? He’s only been hanged. Literally everyone else has either been raped, been sexually assaulted, or been threatened with rape and/or sexual assault.

“But it’s not gratuitous! Look! They’re all so different! Jamie’s was overly graphic and he got a half a season to brood about! We manged to not show much of Fergus’ (but still showed a thrust) because he’s a child and it was just a plot device for Jamie and not actually about him! Mary’s was about Fred! Claire’s with the king was about Jamie! Jamie’s with Geneva was shot like p0rn! Marsali being threatened by the sailors was to motivate Fergus! Bree’s was about the other people in the room and Roger! Claire’s really has no purpose because she’s already been kidnapped and beaten, and that is super traumatic, and we’re gonna wrap it up with a bow by the end of the episode!”

This fucking show, guys. This fucking show.

Bonus points* for the Black character spouting off the superstitious stuff.

*By bonus points I mean this show, and the books are absolute shit on matters of race. The books especially.

The cast and crew have 100% heard everyone’s thoughts on the overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. And their response has been to include more and more of it. We had a whole season of one character’s arc being about her rape and literally as soon as that was resolved, they gang rape another character. It really does tell you as much as you need to know about them. Lazy. Fucking. Cowards.

Kidnapping not enough trauma? Let’s add some gang rape! Gang rape not enough trauma? Let’s add visualizing that your daughter and grandchild are dead! Just like Fred died! This show really brings trauma p0rn to a whole new level.

Called the Bree and Roger shit.

This scene with the men rallying to go save Claire is like another layer of fuck you. Bree, you stay home, men, give your hero lines and let’s have a getting ready montage. Because your hero moment is what this is really all about. And your manpain about killing someone. *screams into a pillow*

The petty side of me is happy that it was Fergus and Young Ian who are with Claire when they find her and not Roger. Her two sons...

Why yes, I am judging all of the fans who like get their panties all wet over Jamie being like “It is I who kills for her.” Like “yeah go ahead and rape and beat Claire within an inch of her life if it means the big strong man gets to come in and save her and say something intense.” Fuck off and go take a hard look at yourself and what that says about you.

“Was there an Indian there?” “Nope, he wouldn’t help you because LiOnEl but somehow was able to peace out when it was in his interest. Because he is as bad as the ones who actually raped you.”

The Bree and Claire hug makes me both sad and angry. I want to hug them both and take them out of this fucking place and tell them that they’ve been done dirty and deserved fucking better from the writers.

Glad Marsali gets in on the hug. Claire’s two remaining daughters.

Claire’s “I have fucking survived” speech is like the one time she she actually talks about herself not in relation to a man. It’s about her. Claire. HOWEVER! It is epically fucked up that a woman needs to check off all the trauma she’s endured to show she’s a strong character.

So. Fucked. Up.

The fact that we’re spending time on Roger’s manpain about killing someone also really tells us a lot about the show’s feelings toward women. Yeah, killing someone is a big deal. It’s normal and expected to have feelings about it. But the juxtaposition of Claire’s speech about all of her traumas with Roger being like yeah, I killed a guy who had kidnapped, beaten and raped your mom is like, read the room, bro/writers.

The fact that the men put Claire’s rapist in her surgery, her space, her place of healing, where she is able to be most herself, makes me want to punch each and every one of them in the throat. Like seriously. Fuck each and every one of them.

Also Lionel is like cartoonishly terrible. Not that nuance has ever been this show’s strong suit. But like come the fuck on.

Marsali killing Lionel is the one thing about this episode that I didn’t hate. The men are all like “We kill for Claire! Let’s all rally in this montage and go do the manly thing of defending the woman!” Marsali is just like, yeah, that’s my Ma you fucked with. She shows some agency. She doesn’t do it in a performative way for the other men or for Claire like the guys do. She just knows this fuck needs to die, knows it’s gonna be hard for her and might damn her soul (don’t worry Marsali, all that religion crap is bullshit), and does it anyway.

Marsali’s arc has been my favorite of this whole fucking series. The one bright spot I was hanging on to all of this season especially.

Her quick scene with Jamie doesn’t bother me like Roger’s does. Because Roger is like oh no, I killed a guy! Can you forgive me? For killing a rapist? Like fuck off, bro. And Marsali is like yeah, I killed a guy. I hope I’m not damned for it, but the guy needed to die so I did it.

Also like, Richard had potential to not be cartoonishly bad. But like nope. “He reaped what he sowed, but cLeArLy I’m gonna need to escalate this further. Because manly men can’t let shit go.”

Fuck all men, tbh.

*googles how to emigrate to Themyscira*

Jamie’s speech that’s like supposed to parallel Claire’s can fuck all the way off. Giving him the last voice over just underscores how this was all about men. Not Claire. But the men. Fuuuuck everything.

Look! Everything’s fine again! Back to normal! Peaceful for a bit! With a cheesy af on the nose storm coming! So you know something bad’s coming! In case you forgot!

And Jamie got a book line. So it’s all good now.

And don’t worry about Claire, y’all. She feels safe now. Her and Jamie fucked it out.

It’s amazing, in retrospect, that I ever let this story suck me in so much.

Happy Mother’s Day! See you on the other side of the hiatus.

#*#outlander starz #outlander 5x12 #drunj!der yells about outlander #rape in outlander

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the--highlanders · 4 years

Text

16. Fairy

on ao3.

“I’m not quite sure -” The Doctor stopped, leaning over with his hands on his knees, breathing hard. “What you think you’ll accomplish here, Jamie.”

“I want tae see the faery well,” Jamie said flatly. “Come on, ye have us runnin’ from beasties all over the place an’ ye cannae even climb a wee hill?”

The look the Doctor gave him was witheringly doubtful, and he laughed. “I dare say I’m a sprinter. Anyway, it’s not such a little hill.”

It was true, as much as it pained Jamie to back down from the banter. Glancing behind them, he looked down over the forest stretched out below. The bare trunks that surrounded them slowly receded behind the slope, vanishing amongst the tops of the trees further down the hill. Across the valley below, the city they had walked up from was tucked amongst the leaves, even its great, bulbous buildings seeming small from their height and distance.

“Alright, then. Not such a little hill.” He tucked the Doctor’s arm into his, pulling him onwards. “But I meant what I said. We’ve had worse than this.”

“Alright, then,” the Doctor repeated back to him, smiling. “And it has been a rather pleasant walk. I’m just not so sure about your chances of finding anything.”

“It’s no’ about finding something,” Jamie said. “Just about goin’ to the place.” The Doctor gave a little non-committal mumble that fell just short of sounding like agreement. “Ye don’t get it.”

“I do,” the Doctor insisted hastily. “But do you really think there’s a – a -” He sighed. “Well, it’s not exactly a faery, is it? This isn’t Earth.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s close enough.”

“But do you really think there’s something up there?”

Jamie shrugged. “Nila said there was. Why should I doubt her?”

The Doctor fell silent, blinking at him. “But there’s no proof,” he said at last, as painfully plaintive as if Jamie had insulted him.

Jamie blinked back at him. “Does there have tae be?”

“Well -” The Doctor wavered from side to side as he walked, tapping his hands together. “I understand that you believe in these things, Jamie, but I simply -”

“Think I’m wrong?”

“Can’t,” the Doctor said firmly. “It isn’t that I don’t believe you. Oh – well – I don’t believe in it – you know what I mean,” he finished awkwardly, flapping his hands as if they could end the sentence for him. “Cultural context, and all that. We see things differently.”

“Oh, aye.” Jamie hooked his fingers through his belt, mulling it over. “So last week – with the Cybermen -”

“When you thought the Cyberman was the phantom piper, yes.”

Nudging at the Doctor’s side, Jamie stuck his tongue out at him. The Doctor pulled a face in return, and they grinned at each other for a moment longer, frustration smoothed out by silliness. “Och, I know it wasn’t that, now. An’ I wasnae exactly thinking straight then, so I wasnae thinking of that. No, I meant – when Polly came up with sprayin’ them. I’d said about holy water, an’ she said -”

“Ah! Yes, I see.” The Doctor nodded. “That’s what I mean, we – we think of things differently, because we come from different places.” He paused, sighing to himself, almost deflating. “But – that isn’t quite it, either, is it? It isn’t like you think Nila’s people are faeries because they can do things that people in your time couldn’t imagine. That would be cultural context. But you’ve never even seen this place. There’s nothing for you to need a – a folklore, or a mythology, to explain.”

Jamie watched him finish rambling with a touch of amusement. “Are ye done tryin’ tae analyse me?” If he had learnt anything from travelling with the Doctor these past two weeks, he thought, it was that he was an odd creature. Clever – too clever for his own good sometimes – but somehow with a knack for missing the obvious. “I’m just interested, that’s all. Why shouldn’t I believe Nila that there’s a faery up there? You’ve trusted her with most other things, here.”

The Doctor stared back at him in disbelief. “Because there isn’t any proof!”

“I didnae see any proof that the sun made those big wheels go round, but ye believed that, alright.”

“But that’s different.”

“Alright, alright.” Jamie held his hands out, as if to placate the Doctor. “So ye say ye need proof tae say there is somethin’ up there. But can ye prove there’s not a faery?” He felt a rush of satisfaction when the Doctor spluttered and floundered, but no coherent words emerged from him. “An’ if ye really want to know, I’m walkin’ up here ‘cause it reminds me of a place I used tae visit.”

“Oh?” The Doctor perked up at that. “What sort of place?”

“They used tae call it Càrn Mòr. Full of trees, but ye could see these big ditches an’ things – an’ bits an’ pieces of a wall runnin’ round it, like.” He traced out a circle in the air. “Dunno if it was a faery or a giant or a man who lived there, but it was there, alright. No’ natural. I used tae walk to it, sometimes. Took a few hours there an’ back, but it was worth it, tae stand there an’ wonder.”

“So you’re walking up here as a sort of a -” The Doctor screwed up his face in thought. “A pilgrimage, because of that place?”

Jamie swiped at him, though he grinned as he did so. “You’re overthinkin’ it again,” he said. “Ye must’ve had faery stories, an’ things, where ye come from. ‘Cause – if your people are so clever that they forgot tae believe in somethin’ else -” It unnerved him, if truth be told, though he did not dare tell the Doctor so. But he could not help thinking of the schoolmasters he had heard of at home, the way they had emptied boys’ heads of stories and filled them with what they thought was good sense, and he shuddered. Not for the first time, he thanked whatever good fortune he had that he had been left to his father’s piping school, and to his mother’s tales. “That’s sad, I think,” he said instead.

“Oh – Oh, I suppose we had stories, about deep time -” The Doctor frowned at Jamie’s triumphant grin. “But that’s different! It was all history. It was true.”

“So’s this tae Nila,” Jamie pointed out. “So’s the faery stories tae me. Maybe it’s just a different sort of history than you’re used to. Did ye ever think of that?”

The Doctor’s silence told Jamie that the answer was no, but he could not bring himself to say it. “I’ve tried awfully hard,” he said slowly, “to think about things differently. Not to be – ah – judgemental, I suppose. To accommodate.”

“I don’t want ye tae accommodate,” Jamie said softly. He had hardly expected the Doctor to come over all serious about it. There was a vulnerability to his expression that he had not seen before, like something about Jamie’s confidence in the faeries had shaken him. “It’s no’ like there’s somethin’ wrong with me, just ‘cause we don’t believe in the same things.” It wouldn’t be nice, he told himself, to have a dig at the Doctor when he was looking so worried – but maybe it would make him smile again. “Cultural context, an’ all that.”

The gamble paid off better than he had hoped, and the Doctor laughed. “Cultural context,” he repeated. “Yes, I suppose it is. I am sorry. Old habits, you know.”

It was not a schoolmaster standing before him in the shape of the Doctor, Jamie thought, but one of the schoolboys, running up against something he could not understand and wondering what to do with it. “’S alright.”

“And who am I, to say that there’s not a faery up there?”

Jamie grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

“So tell me.” The Doctor folded his arms, corners of his mouth twitching – but with fondness, not derision. Not even disbelief. “What else do you believe?”

“Well.” Of course, now he had asked, Jamie was left scrambling around for something – anything – to tell him. “Och, I’m not a good person tae ask. There’s much better storytellers than me.” He had been so caught up in the madness of the past couple of weeks that he had almost forgotten to be homesick, but in that moment he found he missed the people he had once known, and missed them desperately. It ought to have been his mother, he thought, walking up that hill, endless stories on her lips, off to collect another one. But it was just him, left with broken pieces of her words. “See – my mathair, she used tae tell me this story, about the King of the Otters...”

#second doctor #fanfic archive #my writing #sketchtober 2020

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chicagocityofclans · 4 years

Photo

Minsky Edison → Charles Michael Davis → Witch

→ Basic Information

Age: 1268

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Powers: Neuromancy

Birthday: October 30th

Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

Religion: Buddhist

→ His Personality

Minsky is approachable and friendly, able to easily bond and make friends with everyone, despite their species. He is courageous and an easily excitable individual. He has a great passion for his work and a tendency to ramble off when describing his findings or hypotheses as a Neuromancer and Council member. Minsky takes his role as a Council member and mentor seriously. He enforces the rules the Council made without fail. Although, Minsky also genuinely care for his mentees and friends, willing to find loopholes or help them plead their cases. He likes to have fun and enjoys being a witch; he takes pride in who he is. Over the years Minsky has gained great leadership skills, his intelligence goes beyond his powers, and his altruistic nature has him ready to go and save a complete stranger at the bat of an eye. None of this which curb his competitive streaks. Minsky enjoys flaunting around his knowledge.

Possibly because of his lack of paternal care growing up, Minsky has a strong parental instinct towards his biological kids and those he gained during his marriage. After losing his only biological son, Minsky's attitude become quiet and subdued, at the same time angry and upset, having lost his child due to an inheritance on his part and a failed marriage.

→ His Personal Facts

Occupation: Mentor and Shield Master

Scars: None

Tattoos: Multiple

Two Likes: Beautiful Surroundings and Privacy

Two Dislikes: Slackers and Shallow Relationships

Two Fears: Being forgotten and Becoming a ghost

Two Hobbies: Tai Chi and Collecting/Listening to Vinyls

Three Positive Traits: Romantic, Altruistic, Joyful

Three Negative Traits: Know-it-all, Over-confident, Strict (Teaching)

→ His Connections

Parent Names:

Darna (Mother): Minsky has a difficult time remembering his mother, her face, and his previous name and last name. However the word Darna is clearly imprinted in his mind. He remembered feeling fondness for his mother, and thinking of her those nights after leaving for sea.

Sibling Names:

None

Children Names:

Lee Cyto Rinker Jr (Step Son): Kudzai's oldest son who is 1018 years old. Kudzai has a strained relationship with her eldest due to how similar he is to his father. Minsky has tried to be as available to him as possible, and they have formed a cautious friendship. Kudzai has a habit of being exceedingly hard on her offspring, and Lee is no exception.

Cristae Zephyr Rinker (Step Daughter): Kudzai's oldest daughter who is 980 years old and responsible for the no-offspring mentoring rule. Minsky gets along with Cristae the least of his step children, but he makes an effort to reach out on important days.

Krebs Jay Rinker (Step Son): Kudzai's middle son who is 364 years old. He is Kudzai and James Thomas' son. Kerbs is Kudzai's least favorite child but Minsky mainly thinks he needs direction. Something he is well aware Kudzai couldn’t give him, for the sake of her own sanity. He found him a job and mentor in Seoul, and heard he’s doing well in his Master levels.

Hondria Edison Rinker (Daughter): Kudzai and Minsky's only daughter who is 119 years old. She is a talented Projector and was trained by Minsky himself. Despite his advanced age, Hondria was the first child Minsky ever had. He considered himself too much of a risk to have many close personal connections. He could die at any point, and thought he may be better remembered as a leader and mentor, rather than a father. When he held her for the first time however, everything made sense. He could leave as much of his knowledge in the world as possible, but Hondria and Kudzai and their family was his legacy. He vowed to her when she went to sleep the first night that he would be there as long as he possibly could for her. They are still incredibly close and it broke his heart when she left for her advanced levels. He teleports to see her often, but it’s not what he’d imagined all those centuries ago.

Jamie Edison Rinker (Son): Kudzai and Minsky’s youngest son died in his sleep at the age of 17. They came into Jamie’s birth so confident, much more than Hondria’s, assuming he’d be a mental or maybe another biokinetic. When they discovered he was like his father, it suddenly felt like Jamie had been placed into a box with a bomb in it and any movement would set it off. Both Kudzai and Minsky attempted to go on like things were normal. Jamie was energetic and brilliant; the light of his mother’s eye. And Minsky began to see the box and the bomb go away and suddenly a glimmer of hope swelled in him. If it was genetic, and Minsky had been alive for over a millenia who's to say Jamie wouldn’t share the same fate? He still remembers the day Kudzai found him in bed, having died in his sleep. It destroyed him to his core. He prayed that day and so many others afterwards to just switch him for Jamie. He’d had the life he was meant to have; Jaime’s was cut too short. Minsky and Kudzai separated shortly there after; neither one able to forgive Minsky for his part in it.

Romantic Connections:

Kudzai Rinker (Separated Wife/Woman he loves): Minsky believes himself too old to buy into the idea of soul mates, but there is something that has pulled Minsky and Kudzai towards one another for centuries. Too many chances of being in the same place at the same time; too many opportunities to go back to one another. Minsky has never loved anyone the way he loves Kudzai. Her brilliance, and snark, and steadfast beliefs; everything makes her who she is. Losing Jaime devastated them and there was no way either of them could heal together, but Minsky thinks there may be a spark left for them somewhere. A real shot, not just a brief reconnection when the world becomes too lonely. He’ll wait until the end of his days for that woman.

Platonic Connections:

Fiona Kekoa (Mentee): She is only 21 years old, but Minsky is training her in case he dies before they turn 50. She has taken extensive notes on his routines and processes so she may keep his work going if he dies.

Catherine Barr (Mentee): Despite Cat’s beliefs, Minsky completely understands what it’s like to lose a child. However, that’s no excuse to unravel different universes. He’s willing to be sympathetic, but if he finds anything more concrete in her head, he will not hesitate to bring her in front of the council for judgement.

Nikita Platt (Mentee): Minsky finds Nikita refreshingly genuine, especially for a Mnemokinetic. He could see it in her mind, well before she turned 50 and was glad to offer her a spot under his tutelage. Her memory acting up so much already concerns Minsky, but he is willing to assist her with whatever she needs to grow her power. He has already purchased a tracking kit to help her keep track of her keys and phone, and is trying to get her into the habit of putting appointments into her phone so she doesn’t forget them.

Simon Lee Weyden (Future Mentee): Given that he is still alive for Simon’s next level, Minsky has agreed to take him on. He has potential, and unlike many mentors he isn’t prejudiced against Tantric Manipulators.

Rhiannon Draga (Council Member): Minsky has a lot of respect for Rhiannon and considers her a close friend. He is glad she finally found her happiness with Fallon, Alucard, and Vladimir. Before, he often wondered if the melancholia may over take her. Fortunately, he was proven wrong and happily saw her wedding and met her children.

Ronan Cleirigh (Council Member): Minsky and Ronan have been friends for a long time. They can both shimmy in and out of each other's shields, making it easier for Minsky to trust Ronan more than their peers. Their friendship has been a little hard on Minsky as of lately, knowing Ronan hates Kudzai with a passion.

Jace Cicero (Council Member): Jace and Minsky often agree with one another when it comes to council decisions. They tend to keep their cool even when more fiery members of Council do not. The only thing they do not agree upon is Jace’s dating of his mentee, Cat. Minsky is concerned that if Cat needs to be put on trial for any illegal use of her power, that Jace may be swayed by whatever feelings he has for her.

Eric Lasiter (Best Friend): Minsky often finds a weight being lifted off of his shoulders whenever Eric is around. Eric's energy and mind sings to Minsky like fairy tales of muses. Eric was a huge help when Minsky lost Jamie and separated with Kudzai. While they might not be the best at time management when it comes to getting together but when it happens, time seems to melt around them.

Averill Sookram (Ally): Minsky exonerated Averill for a crime by looking through his mind. Minsky has been on Averill’s side for centuries. His exoneration created one of the worst fights between him and Kudzai in the past 3 centuries, but he wasn’t willing to let an innocent man be punished for something he didn’t do.

Sydney ‘Sid’ Velanica (Distant In Law): Minsky is more accepting of those with the Rinker mark than his wife, Kudzai. Minksy never doubted Sidney and even offered to mentor him before Sid chose Jia. Minsky supports Sid's relationship with Sada.

Sol Alfaro (Old Friend): Minsky can honestly say that he has never been friends with an animal shifter until Sol. Sol has lost his wife and went down a dark path of turning to magic to fix the problem. Having seen a lot of death in his time. Minsky advised him against using magic or contacting a necromancer, as a replacement of dealing with his loss. At first, Sol did not take it well but Minsky somehow kept finding him and offering his guidance and friendship. It's been nearly 150 years and they still keep in contact.

Tristan Lawton (Acquaintance): Kudzai has recently informed the Council that one of her mentees may have been misplaced as a Biokinetic. Kudzai is unsure about him being a Biokinetic and believes he may be something else or something new entirely. Minsky and Ronan have been doing research to try and help figure it out before Tristan can do more damage in the wrong field.

Hostile Connections:

None

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background) → The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

#Minsky Edison #Taken

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valdez-and-the-argo-crew · 4 years

Text

God!Percy fic ch.4

Previous chapter: https://valdez-and-the-argo-crew.tumblr.com/post/190922626186/godpercy-fic-ch-3

Percy, once again, you might destroy Olympus! How do you feel?

I gotta be honest, now I understand why gods hate mortals.

Oh yeah and also it might be Jamie, not me, so...yay?

Chiron had gathered me, Jamie, Grover and Rachel in the Big House to discuss the new prophecy. Annabeth invited herself and was sitting on the arm of the couch next to me.

“The prophecy didn’t tell us anything about the quest, how are we supposed to know where we are going to go and what’s the whole point of the quest!” Annabeth began rambling. “I know prophecies are usually vague but still, this is just...” she shook her head.

“Hey Owl Head,” I said, nudging her arm. “This isn’t your quest, don’t get so worked up.”

Annabeth punched me in the shoulder, but still visibly relaxed. I looked over at Rachel, who was talking quietly to herself.

“Is that all we have on the prophecy? No instruction manual?” I asked. She shook her head.

“That’s it, unfortunately.” She sighed.

Chiron (now in his wheelchair) rolled up to us. “I’m afraid I know where your quest is taking you.” He looked at Grover, who looked confused and then seemed to come to some sort of realization.

“Nico’s accident...” Grover said. That got my attention quick.

“Wait what? Nico’s accident?” I said. I hadn’t heard anything on the son of Hades in a while, probably over a year.

“Who’s Nico?” Asked Jamie from the small chair beside the couch. I’d forgotten that not all of us were seasoned end-of-the-world heroes.

“Nico is the son of Hades, the god of the underworld.” Annabeth explained. “He’s a little bit of a loner so he’s not always here at camp.”

“But back to the whole ‘accident part’...” I said, turning to Grover. “Explain.”

“Well just recently, Hades had Nico go check up on the doors of death, which is what let’s monsters back into this world. But the thing is the doors are in Tartarus, so—“

“Hades let Nico go to Tartarus alone?” Annabeth interjected. “Is he crazy!”

“Some say,” Chiron said under his breath.

“Nico was able to handle himself, however as he didn’t see a few spirits slip by. Arai, I believe they were.” Grover said. “And now they’re rampant somewhere in America.”

Jamie was looking back and forth between all of us, visibly confused.

“So... Jamie and I need to return really bad spirits to the underworld? Doesn’t sound like the cause of Olympus to fall...” I shrugged.

“Don’t underestimate the Arai Percy. They’re really tricky things to deal with.” Annabeth said.

Rachel cleared her throat. “Who all is going on this quest? I mean other than those two,” she gestured at me and Jamie.

“Annabeth, obviously.” I said right away. She was the natural choice. She was smart and clever and the only person I’d want at my side while fighting spirits from Tartarus.

“Slow down. I may not be best for this. The Arai reveal ugly truths, and knowing Pride is my greatest fault, I feel like that could end disastrously.” Annabeth said. “Sorry.”

“It’s chill. What about you, G-Man?” I looked at Grover, who bleated and shook his head.

“No way, I told Juniper I wouldn’t die this summer.” He said. “Besides, I have to do Lord-of-the-Wild things.”

“Wow thanks.” I laughed. “Guess it’s just you and me Jamie.”

“I’m still confused...” Jamie mumbled.

Chiron chuckled. “I’ll fill you in. Percy it might be in your best interest to go prepare for the quest.”

The meeting adjourned and I headed back to my cabin, my head swimming with thoughts. I started to get a bit annoyed at the prophecy. Why me again. Like one time, sure, but two times is frustrating.

I sighed and flopped on my bunk. Stupid fate.

There was a knock on the door and before I could react, Annabeth let herself in.

“Wrong cabin. The smartass cabin is that way,” I smiled and pointed lazily in some random direction.

“Oh shut up fish face.” Annabeth said and sat down on the trunk beside my bed. I propped myself up so I could see her.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Can I not just have a moment alone with my best friend?” She laughed. I examined her face and could tell she was worried.

“Seriously. What’s wrong?” I asked her. She hesitated for a second and sighed.

“It just... we’re adults now Percy. I mean, I am. You’re...immortal.” She frowned a bit, because she still has issues with that face of life. “I don’t like how you’re the subject of a prophecy again. Like I’d understand if it was Jamie, but... “ she shook her head. “I don’t even know why I’m worried, it’s not like you can die or anything.”

“I get what you mean. Frankly I’m quite annoyed too. I already went through this 10 years ago.” I said. Annabeth smiled a bit at that.

It’s funny how we find comfort in our memories of that war. We lost so much, and got hurt in more than one way but we were just so...together that it didn’t matter.

We were silent for a moment.

“I’m tired Percy.” Annabeth said. “All I’ve done in the past 10 years is train. Whether here or with the Romans, all I do is drills over and over.” She looked at me. “And even though we see each other every summer...Its all different. You haven’t been you in so long.”

I didn’t know what to say to this. I didn’t think I was any different than I had been, but the fact that Annabeth thought I was made me think.

“I’m sorry to suddenly go all emotional on you like that.” Annabeth said. “I know it’s not like me but I’ve been holding all that in for a while.”

“It’s fine, Wise Girl.” I smiled. She laughed, which instantly lightened the mood. I laughed along with her for a minute.

“I think I know how to cheer you up.” I said.

“Oh yeah? How so.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Well it’s Friday, is it not? And after dinner is—“

“—Is capture the flag!” She smiled wide. “Oh it is so on Jackson. And no cheating by being all godly or whatever.”

“Cheating? Do you really think that low of me, Chase?”

“I never know what to think of you. But just know that you don’t stand a chance.”

I threw a pillow at her. She gasped and threw one of my shoes from the floor. I rolled my eyes.

“Ow!” I whined.

“That’s what you get.” She smirked.

I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Oh grow up,” Annabeth said, rolling her eyes. “You probably still need to pack for your quest, so I’ll leave you to that. See you at dinner seaweed brain.”

And with that Percy was alone again.

Dinner came and went, and so did the game of Capture the flag. Annabeth won by catching Percy off guard and having some Demeter kid go grab the flag. Now Percy was doing his cabin chore (organizing the armor racks) with Jamie.

“You’ve been quiet, kid, are you okay?” Percy looked at the young boy.

“I’m fine,” Jamie smiled. “Its just...Chiron told me people get hurt on quests. I’m kinda scared.”

I finished racking helmets and sighed. “Yeah, people can get hurt. And it is very scary, especially because you’re only 6.” I looked down at him. He was struggling to put a chest plate back in its place. “But I promise nothing is going to hurt you on this quest, okay?”

He nodded and I helped him secure the heavy armor in its proper place. Looking around, I see that all that’s left to do is to put the shields away. Jamie trudged over and grabbed one, lifting it up and walking over to the shield rack.

“Jamie you can set that down, I got this.” I said. With a mere flick of my wrist, the shields all slid nicely into place. Jamie’s jaw dropped.

“How did you do that!”

“Let’s walk back to the cabin.” I said. “I’ll tell you on the way.”

As we walked I explained that I was a minor god. I told him the story of the titan war we fought, and when we reached our cabin, I told him how hardly anybody here knows. I figured that since he is my brother, and that we’re going on a quest tomorrow, he had the right to know.

The night flew by, and all too quickly it was time to set off on our quest. Jamie was noticeably nervous, as he was biting his nails and picking at a loose thread on his shirt. We both had backpacks with food, money (both mortal and Greek), hygiene stuff, and other quest necessities.

“You sure you’re ready?” I asked Jamie. He nodded silently.

“Don’t think you’re leaving without saying goodbye,” said Annabeth from behind. I turn around and see her and Grover have come to see us off.

“It’s lot like we’re gonna die, it’s just going to be a quick quest.” I said.

“Is it though?” Annabeth said.

“You’re uncharacteristically worrisome lately,” I said. “I miss the Annabeth that would face Hera and walk backwards into the underworld.” She rolled her eyes.

“Stay safe you two,” Grover said. “And in case you needed some direction, last I heard the Arai are in Nevada, but they’re traveling east.” He said. “They’re easy enough to track if you know what to look for in mortal headlines.”

“Thanks man.” I said and gave him a fist bump. I turned to Jamie. “Ready?”

“No. Lets go.” He said.

“Percy, one last thing...” Annabeth said. I turn around, only to be met with a kiss on the cheek. “Please stay yourself.”

I got to be honest, I had absolutely no clue what she meant by that.

Regardless, Jamie and I set out, going past the camp’s borders and officially starting our quest.

#god!percy #percy jackson #pjo #poseidon #percabeth #percy and grover #pjo fic #pjo text post #incorrect pjo quotes #pjo stuff #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #argo ii #chb #chiron #rick riordan

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years

Text

Careless - Jamie Benn

Requested: No

Word Count: 3107

Warning: Cursing

Song Inspiration: Nickelback - Next Contestant

Notes: So confession, I sometimes just throw my playlist on shuffle to see what comes up. This song came up on the way home from work and I just couldn’t stop picturing Jamie Benn. I just feel like he’d be super protective with his woman. So here’s my take on it. Still working on Nervous Regrets but just had to write this first. Let me know what you think.

READER’S POV

Slipping on the skimpy cocktail dress, that left nothing to the imagination; you checked the mirror one last time before gliding out onto the bar room floor. Picking up the tray, you mouthed a quick hello to Isaac and Carl, tonight’s bartenders; sashaying over to one of your tables, you got to work. It wasn’t a bad place to work, it was upscale, somewhat classy; though some nights you couldn’t tell by the clientele. That they allowed you to get up on stage every weekend and have your music heard, was a bonus. It was a win, win for the both of you. Traffic definitely picked up on those nights, when you were standing behind the microphone; and most times you didn’t mind helping out before or after your set. Tonight, was one of those nights. You’d just performed for the last hour, now it was time for the DJ to take over and keep the party going. As for you, you’d make sure that the customers were satisfied and the alcohol continued to constantly flow.

After grabbing a few drinks for a couple tables; Kelsey, your friend and co-worker came up to you. “Great set tonight (Y/N). You know, Careless is my favorite song you do.”

“Aww, thanks Kels. I love that one too.”

“Hey before I forget, table 18 is asking for you. I think a few of them have a thing for you.” Batting her eyelashes at you. “Switch me tables, I’ll take 23. I’m a sucker for the nerdy type.”

Chuckling, “Mmm Hmm…I know you. Look out Sheldon Cooper, here comes Kelsey Brown.”

“Ooo a man with a brain is so hot. Stop turning me on. We’ve still got hours here.” With that she swayed over to the table to work her charm on the semi-attractive guy in glasses.

Glancing over to the table Kelsey had mentioned moments ago, you were half tempted to go trade her back; for you weren’t sure you could handle all the male testosterone coming from there. What looked to be about eight overly good-looking athletes all sat, laughing, joking and drinking way over priced liquor. Tray in hand you made your way over, but not before some guy at one of your other tables grabbed your ass; which unfortunately was not an uncommon event. Smiling prettily, you removed his hand and put on that southern charm, “I’ll be right with you sugar. Just gotta grab that table right there.” You’d just filled all their drinks and knew they’d be good for at least the next twenty minutes.

“Hurry back.” He called after you; what he didn’t see was the eye roll you gave him or the mental fuck off finger you had popping up in your brain.

JAMIE’S POV

Tonight’s win had you all ready to celebrate, and so when someone suggested heading to the bar; you were all in. This wasn’t your usual hangout; normally someone would suggest some up and coming trendy nightclub, and that’s where you’d all end up. Rads, however had mentioned he’d been here before; and enjoyed the atmosphere. You could see why, when the beauty up on stage belted out some song, that could easily be playing on the top one hundred charts; you couldn’t take your eyes off her. While her looks initially drew you in, it was her voice that kept you mesmerized; soft, silky smooth notes floating out of a mouth you just wanted to kiss for days. It seemed like she no sooner started then she was off the stage; replaced by some obnoxious DJ, who played a little too loud for his surroundings.

“That girl is amazing, in every way.” It was a statement that didn’t come from your mouth but one that you could totally agree with from Tyler.

“Yeah, she sing here almost every weekend,” this from Rads. “She’s waited on me couple time.”

Needing to know more you asked, “Wait she’s a waitress too? I thought she was just a singer.”

“Yeah, you know she like does both.”

Just then your waitress came up asking if you needed more drinks. “Hey, is the girl who was just singing, working tonight?” leave it to Seggy to just cut to the chase.

“Yeah, she is, want me to send her over?”

“Absolutely” the man was not subtle at times.

“Not that you aren’t great and everything.” You added, hoping not to hurt her feelings.

“It’s no problem.” She said with a wicked wink.

Watching the waitress move towards the songstress, you saw them speak briefly; then watched as she made her way to your table, but not before some asshole pawed at her ass. Anger seethed inside you. Being out of earshot you couldn’t hear her response to the mongrel; what you did see was the slight eye roll she gave as she turned. Briefly you wondered how many encounters like these she had a night; you didn’t have a chance to contemplate it before she was standing beside.

“Gentlemen, nice to see you all. I’m (Y/N), what can I get you tonight?”

That’s when Seggy decided to make a bigger ass of himself than most times. “I don’t know, what’s on the menu? Me -N -U?” Wincing, you knew the pickup line had to be one of the worst that ever came out of someone’s mouth; while most of the guys laughed, inwardly you groaned.

“I’m pretty sure Me-N-U didn’t make it past your ego, but if you’d like to order something else, I’d be happy to help you.” Ouch, she could hold her own; it was more of turn on then you wanted to admit.

Hoping to make up for the rest of the jerks at your table, you politely asked; “We’ll just have a round of beers and some shots of Don Julio Real, please.”

“I’ll be right back with those.”

“Segs, you gotta do another one of those when she comes back.” For a big man, Olesksiak couldn’t hold his liquor well or his tongue for that matter; lord knows Tyler didn’t need any encouragement.

“Leave her alone man, she probably gets tired of the bullshit all the time.”

“Aww Chubbs, we’re just having a little fun. No harm. Besides she seems to give as good as she gets.”

“Just try and act like a decent human for once in your life, will you Segs.” The odds of that happening were slim to none.

She came back to the table then, handing drinks out one by one. Each time she leaned forward, her dress gave you a nice glimpse of her full round breasts; that they were on display for everyone here to see had you fighting the urge to cover her with your suit jacket. Tyler, glided a finger up her arm, causing her to turn and look at him with questioning eyes. “Screw me if I’m wrong, but don’t I know you?”

(Y/N) paused for a second, as if truly wondering had they met before. “Hmmm. Does your ass get jealous of the all the shit that comes out of your mouth?” The table erupted in laughter, Seggy included. “Thank you, gentlemen, I’m here all night. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got other customers. I’ll be back to see if your pick up lines get any better.”

Your teammates chatted endlessly about her; each of them trying to come up with a better pickup line for when she came back. Concentrating on the woman, instead of some hyped game of whose line is better; you watched her take some orders, then head over to the bar. Long strides had you at her side in no time. “(Y/N) isn’t it?” when she nodded, you continued; “Look I just want to apologize for the other assholes at my table. We’ve probably had one too many. It’s just they were a little excited with the win and everything…” you were rambling. “Not that, that’s an excuse or anything. Ummm…anyhow I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way they’ve been acting.”

She smiled sweetly at you, and it melted your heart. “Don’t sweat it. It happens all the time.” She touched your arm then, an unconscious gesture but one that went straight to your groin all the same. “I’m used to it, but thank you for the apology.”

Turning back to the bar, she dismissed the conversation as over; but you weren’t ready for that yet. “I also wanted to say…your voice…I mean….” God you were terrible with women; it was like you turned into a babbling idiot. “It was beautiful. Did you write those songs?”

“Awww thank you, yes I did. Which one did you like best?” she seemed genuinely interested; that you had her full attention, had you elaborating more.

“I’m not sure of the name, but something about….don’t be careless with my heart, for although we’re worlds apart, I still need you here with me…I’m not exactly sure of the right words. It has a great melody; you should be on the radio.”

Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Wow I’m impressed you were listening. The songs called Careless; it’s one of my favorites too. And thanks for the compliments, the band and I have been working on cutting an album, but that takes money. Speaking of which, I gotta get these drinks out. It was nice to talk to you….”

“Jamie,” you supplied.

“Nice to meet you Jamie. I’ll be back over at the table a little later.”

READER’S POV

Jamie, it suited him, with his large frame you expected it to be Jim or James; but no Jamie fit him perfectly. It spoke to the softer side of him, one that you could see in that first encounter. He wasn’t like the rest of them at his table; it was a nice change of pace. The rest of the night went pretty much as expected, a hand placed here or a comment there; the lewd looks from different men as they ogled your breasts. Jamie was different though, no raunchy remark or crude stare; though he did look, it was just more with appreciation then lust.

All night you waited for him to make a move, ask you out or maybe even try and hold your hand, for it seemed more in his wheelhouse; but he didn’t. So, when he showed up the next night, it took you by surprise. He was by himself this time, but still grabbed a table none the less; though he seemed to have a knack for not picking your section.

“Your boyfriend from last night’s here.” Kelsey tormented. “He’s asking for you again.”

“Kels he’s not my boyfriend. He barely said a few words to me.”

“Doesn’t change the fact he’s back again tonight and asking for you.”

Shaking your head, you strolled over to his table. “Miss me already?” you said teasingly.

“What…uh…ummm.” He was cute when he was flustered.

“Relax I’m just kidding with you. So, what can I get you tonight Jamie?”

“Oh, you remembered my name.”

Playfully you answered. “I try to remember all my cute customers.”

Blushing at your words, his cheeks turned a becoming shade of red. “I’ll just have a beer.”

“One beer coming right up.” It literally took all of ten seconds to get the beer, so you were back at his table in no time. “Here ya go, anything else I can get ya?”

“No, I’m good.” He seemed to hesitate, as if there was something more he wanted to say. Finally, he spit it out. “So are you going to be singing tonight.”

Maybe he just liked your music and not you, it was somewhat refreshing; that was if you didn’t think that he was totally sexy as fuck. “Sadly no, I usually only sing here on Friday or Saturday night. The rest of the time you just get me as your server.”

He smiled, and heat pooled in your nether regions. “I’m ok with that.” Looks like you were wrong and he was interested; well you’d just have to see how the rest of the night went.

“(Y/N) drinks for table 7 are ready.”

“Duty calls. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Sunday night usually wasn’t that busy, so it afforded you the chance to get to know Jamie more. You found out that he was a professional hockey player for the Dallas Stars, that he enjoyed cooking and had a great appreciation for music. If you both had been on the same dating website, you would’ve been matched in an instant; though for some reason Jamie seemed reluctant to ask you out. Staying until closing time, he walked to you to your car; where you were sure he’d at least kiss you. Disappointment coursed through you when he didn’t.

The next several weeks were pretty much the same, Jamie showing up on nights that you worked and he was free; always the gentleman, but never asking you out. You started to wonder if you were reading him wrong; maybe he was just lonely and seeking friendship. That was until one particular night.

It was crowded, you’d finished your set, put your uniform on, if you could call a skin tight dress a uniform; and headed out to wait tables. The men were handsy that night, one particular table being down right obnoxious. Pickup lines were the least of your worries with them. It was a grab of your ass here, someone pulling you by the waist there; but the icing on the cake was the hand that traveled up your inner thigh. It was cringe worthy and had you gathering your wits each time you headed back to the bar.

Making your way to Jamie’s table you stopped to check and see if he needed another drink. “Are they bothering you?” His arms were folded across his chest, and you could tell he saw the whole thing play out.

“It’s fine Jamie, I can handle it.” You weren’t sure how true that statement was, but you’d see how the night played out before you went calling for help.

JAMIE’S POV

Anger boiled inside you; the only thing tamping it down was the fact that you didn’t want to make a scene in front of (Y/N). What you really wanted to do was rip the assholes into shreds. They mauled at her, made lewd remarks; yet she took it all in stride. You hated that she had this job, even the damn dress that was supposed to be her uniform had you seething. She was a goddess and deserved to be treated that way; why you hadn’t made a move on her, you weren’t sure. Only fear of rejection had kept you silent. The woman could have any person, man or woman if she wanted; all she had to do was say the word. Yet in the few weeks that you’d known her you hadn’t seen her with either sex.

Over the last few weeks you’d watch men buy her drinks, trying to garner her favor; she declined them all. Pickup lines were non-stop, and God bless her, she had a witty comeback for each one. Tonight, just seemed like a culmination of everything all rolled into one; they all wanted in her pants, metaphorically and literally speaking. You weren’t about to let that happen.

Hours passed and with each minute, the temperature of your blood rose. The rowdy bunch of twenty somethings continued their torment, even as the crowd thinned down leaving just a few stragglers behind. Eyes trained on her; she made her way over to the table for last call. One of them grabbed her and pulled her hard onto his lap; causing her to drop the empty tray. You couldn’t hear his words, but you saw his hand snake up her side and cup her breast. She twisted in his arms in an attempt to break free; you were out of your seat before you even knew what was happening.

Before he could make another move, you placed your hand firmly on his shoulder and squeezed the bastard as hard as you could. “Is that your hand on my girlfriend?” His eyes bulged out of his head as you loomed over him. When he neither released her or said anything, you repeated it. “Is that your hand?” He let her go then, and she scrambled off his lap.

“Look man we were just having fun.”

“Mmmm…want to try it again and see how much fun it will be with me outside? Because I’d love to just bash your head in right now?” You tighten your grip on the little asshole; and he winced in pain.

(Y/N) tugged on your arm. “It’s not worth it Jamie.”

“I think they’re ready to close their tab, aren’t you boys?” They all nodded. “Good, I expect you’ll be generous in your tips for all the hassle you’ve given my girl tonight.” With that you released the pipsqueak, and took (Y/N)’s hand leading her away.

She dumped the tray on the bar, and pulled you into the back. “Jamie, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you. The girlfriend part was a nice touch, though.”

“I didn’t say it for affect. I said it because I want it to be true.” You hadn’t asked her out, didn’t even know how she felt about you. All you knew is that you wanted this woman to belong to you and you alone.

Her lips turned up in a what you could only describe as the sexiest smile you’d ever seen. “I think that can be arranged.” She slid her hands up your chest; instinctively you wrapped yours around her waist and drew her closer to press up against your body. Leaning down you molded your lips to her, in a sweet and devasting kiss. She opened easily for you and your tongue swept in to taste the essence that was her. She was sweet and sass all rolled into one, and you took your time to explore her mouth. Demanding more as the kiss went on; she met you every step of the way. She moaned helplessly into your mouth and it was your undoing. If you didn’t stop now, you weren’t sure you ever would. Gently you pulled back from the kiss, thumb softly caressing her cheek as your harsh breathes mingled. “Let’s get out of here.” She whispered to you and you thought you’d died and gone to heaven. Only you were wrong, that would come later when she was under you writhing in pleasure, as she cried out your name.

#jamie benn #jamie benn imagine #jamie benn imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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7deadlycinderellas · 4 years

Text

The Ghost of the Red Keep, ch6

Ao3 link

Six and ten and all her years later, Arya will never forget the sight of Bran’s broken leg twisted and deformed. It’s the bone in his upper leg, close to his hip. Maester Pycelle says it may be well over a year until he can walk again, if ever.

He’d slammed his head into the ground as well. If he hadn’t still had his helm on then he could have died. As it was, he took a hard hit, and couldn’t say quite what had happened when he woke up.

“All I remember was riding Storm and then black,” Bran tells them when he finally wakes from the milk of the poppy induced sleep Pycelle had put him under while he set his leg. “I guess something spooked him, and he threw me.”

That’s horseshit, and Arya feels like Bran knows it. Storm was well trained, and had never so much as stumbled. It would take a great fright to even make him bolt, much less throw off his rider. And Bran’s leg…

Arya can’t quite remember what Maester Luwin had taught them what that bone was called, but she recalls that it was supposed to be one of the strongest bones in the body. A fall from a horse shouldn’t have been enough. Arya doesn’t think it was an accident, but she’s frightened to say so.

It will take ages for him to heal, and Ned insists that he shouldn’t have to do it in the capital. So in less than a fortnite, as soon as his condition stabilizes, Bran and Catelyn are loaded into the wheelhouse to return to Winterfell.

Bran is completely bereft when Arya sees him leave. This is basically the end of his dream.

Arya bids them a tearful farewell, and tries not to be too terribly jealous.

Everyone is walking on eggshells in the following weeks.

Arya manages to sneak around in the tunnels when the septas come to take Stan and Leo’s bodies away to the sept. There will be no funerals for them, the two bastard boys, but the least they could do, Arya thinks, is not cart them away in front of their mother.

She sees one’s hand sticking out of the cart, his skin pale with a strange, almost silvery sheen.

The plans for the tourney continue.

The next full moon is the second to last day of when the tourney is planned. Arya’s skin itches again. There’s danger all around her, and she can’t think of anything to do about it, she can feel it in her bones. She’s not sure if she should say anything to Ned about it, she’s not sure what she even could say, and all she wants to do is talk to Gendry.

She writes him what she can, but she’s not sure what’s safe to say. He writes her back, when he can, scrawled on the back of her letters in his still rough, He consoles her over Bran, understands how devastating it would have been. Tells her of another boy, an apprentice smith, who’d leaned too close to the fire and fell, burned his hands nearly to black. That boy wouldn’t smith anymore, he’d been on the mercy of the gods and the septas.

Arya’s so worried, she doesn’t even fight having her gown for the ball made and fitted. It is beautiful, silvery gray silk, the same shade as the rabbit fur in her cloak, even if the skirt is volominous and hard to run in.

Sansa finishes it up, her hand as steady and certain as any professional seamstress.

She twists, and bends over to grab something, and her rolled up sleeves ride up even further up her elbows, and Arya just barely catches a glimpse…

She grabs Sansa’s arm and forcefully pushes the sleeve upwards, ignoring her objections. The bruise is angry, purple with spots already turning yellow-brown. Sansa snatches her arm back before Arya can search any further.

“Did the prince give you that?” Arya demands.

Sansa looks away.

“It doesn’t matter. Soon we’ll be married, and I’ll only have to see him in public. I’ll have guards all around me…”

Her voice trails off and Arya has to stop herself from screaming. Screaming that those guards will likely be the king’s men, not hers. Screaming to Sansa that Joffrey’s not even a prince, but a rotten bastard. She has to use all her willpower to squeeze it down, to squash the urge. No one can know, Ned had said.

“Tommen told me he wanted to join the Kingsguard so he could protect me...Bran too, before... That’s what Ser Jamie did. He joined the Kingsguard so his sister wouldn’t be alone here...some good it did.”

Arya barely has time to acknowledge that yes, the Kingslayer did seem unsually close to his twin, before her brain starts screaming again.

“The queen knows this?”

Sansa snorts. Arya is astonished, she’s never heard Sansa make that noise before.

“I wonder if the queen knows much of anything anymore. She’s drunk on wine half the time, rambling on about things that don’t make sense. She said once that Robert’s struck her before...that made me feel bad, but then she laughed like it didn’t matter. She keeps going on and on about how she’ll show him…The things about Lord Baelish and Jon Arryn, and something about imports from Essos...I don’t know how her mind gets to where it does.

Sansa takes a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face.

“At least soon, I will be queen, and she won’t be able to make anyone else suffer.”

Arya thinks on that for a while. Once her son marries, Cersei’s power will be diminished. Once Robert dies, she might as well not be a royal anymore. Would she go home then, to Casterly Rock? Would that make her happy?

Arya thinks going home to Winterfell would make her happier than anything, but not without knowing her family and friends were safe.

The first day of the tourney comes. Arya smiles brightly and forces Sansa to the edge of the bench, on her one side, Ned on her other. No room for princes to force themselves. They’re not even wed yet, she insists.

She wants to enjoy the tourney. She would normally, would lap it up, would eagerly watch the riders and try to learn their tricks, pick a favorite and cross her fingers for them. Daydream about entering one herself. Aunt Lyanna had, she had said that the joust was nine-tenths horsemanship, and Arya could ride as well as a boy.

But everytime she looks at the horses, and the lance, her stomach sinks and she thinks of Bran.

No bone would break like that from a fall from a horse.

There’s a rush of stiff applause, and Arya watches the man they call the Mountain that Rides. He looks like he could break a man in two with just his pinky finger. He’s one of Cersei Lannister’s prized champions, or Tywin Lannister’s rabid dog, depending on who you asked.

She watches him holding the lance, and feels a chill on the back of her neck.

The next day, the melee, she begs off the festivities, claiming an upset stomach. She wonders at the empty seat beside Sansa, and her heart lifts when it ends up being taken by Edric Storm.

“My uncle is off seeking the maester, hoping to find a tea for my constitution,”

“Perhaps I should find him,” Arya interjects, “I’m feeling a bit out of sorts myself. I think we should both lay off the cherries.”

She tilts her head, and sees the very base of Edric’s hands. Marked with an ever so slight metallic sheen. Arya does her best to meet her father’s eyes, but she can’t be sure if he sees.

Sneaking into the kitchens is easy enough. The servants who can are outside watching the tourney, one of the bits of the entertainment there for all, those who aren’t are rushing about in early preperation for the feast that will end it.

Most of them pay her no mind. Lady Arya Stark never yelled or gave them trouble. Oh if they had known Arya Underfoot. She finds Mheagan easily enough, Barra sticking closely to her side. The little girl is bigger now, nearly five or six, though still quite small. Big enough to fetch and carry, but too small to stray from her mother’s side and be seen.

Today, she has a whining tone in her voice. Arya recognizes it, from Rickon, or shamefully, from her own voice on occasion.

“Mumma, I’m hungry,”

“Then you should have eaten your breakfast.”

“Don’t like cherries.”

Arya wrinkles her nose. There they are again, those cherries.

Something in her mind blinks to life. And that’s how Arya finds herself in the Red Keep library when there’s a tournament going on outside.

It’s not hard to find the book. She’d found it by accident before, it had been sitting on one of the tables when the Septa had been teaching her and Sansa their history. Arya had been admonished for reading it instead of listening, but she remembers.

Why a book on poisons had been so easily accessible had never occurred to her.

The joili nut, she read, was once a popular snack food in parts of Essos until it was discovered that consumption over time would cause poisons to build up in the eater’s body, causing weakness and stomach upset, eventually leading to vomiting, seizures, and death from too much.

They could be distinguished by the almondesque taste, at times almost tasting like ripe cherries, and the slight metallic look caused by the oils staining the skin.

Cherry tarts, is all Arya can think of. She smuggles the book out under her jerkin, and when Ned returns to the tower, she’s left it open to the correct page.

Early the next morning, Arya wakes to a note from Ned atop a pile of packages wrapped in burlap.

“Take the top to the kitchen, leave it behind the flour barrel. The middle to the stable, on the ladder above the saddle rack. The bottom is for Gendry, I trust you know where to leave it. Renly has Edric covered. We’re getting them out before this week is through.”

Being the ghost of the red keep has it’s benefits.

She saves Gendry’s package for last, and risks Ned’s wrath by sneakiing down to see him.

It’s early, only a tiny strip of sun, and he’s still asleep on his cot.

He sits up, blinking, when she flings the package at his chest.

“Hold onto those and listen. We’re sneaking you out, you and your siblings too. “

“What are you-”

Arya shushes him, sitting on the edge of his cot.

“The queen’s children are bastards. They aren’t the kings. We think she was keeping the rest of you around...poisoning the others, so she could have something to hold over King Robert’s head if he ever found out about her infidelity.”

Gendry laughs roughly. The golden children, flaunted in front of all of King’s Landing, bastards just like him. She doesn’t tell him the other bit, that other thing Ned confided in her. She had watched Jamie Lannister in the first days of the tournament, her stomach twisting each time in disgust. She hopes it’s not true, but Lord Renly has insisted that the rumours have persisted about the Queen and her twin for years.

“So your-”

“We’re sending Mheagan and Barra up north to Winterfell. You and Mya are going to the Riverlands, and Renly’s sneaking Edric back to Storm’s End right after the ball. “

She reaches out and squeezes Gendry’s hands tight. Her heart tugs. She would say that she wishes they could send him to Winterfell, but she’s not sure where she’s even going to end up when this is all done. If Ned’s accusations don’t go as planned...there could be war, and it’s better if they aren’t all in one place.

She hesitates, before handing him the other package she had grabbed when she brought Ned’s.

Gendry’s eyes go wide when he unwraps the sword.

“You’re giving me Needle?” he asks breatheless. Arya is similarly out of breath when she responds.

“You’ll need it more than me. I know you can make yourself a better sword, but on the road, until you get to where my father’s sending you…” her voice trails off, words rendered babbles, “Right now you need it more than me,” she steels her voice, “And when you see me again, you can give it back.”

She surges forward and kisses him, once, hard. She pulls back, his eyes are so incredibly blue.

“I’ll come and find you when it’s time to leave...please stay safe.”

Arya bounces on her heels for the rest of the tourney. Ned whispers more of his plans to her. All three groups will leave in the early morning, once the ball is officially over, when most of the castle will be too drunk or hungover to pay attention, and Arya must help them be ready.

He also tells her that he’s sending Sansa away with Renly and Edric.

“That will put her in danger too-” Arya tells him. Ned nods.

“But she will be far away from here, and I do trust Renly. He may not be the most brilliant or thoughtful of lords but he is not cruel and he is not duplicitious. He would bear her no ill will. And if she stays here, than she will be in danger too.”

The tourney and the ball will end, the ghosts will disappear into the night and the next day, Ned will levy his accusations at the queen. These accusations of adultery, treason and incest. Arya doesn’t ask what will happen to her, or what will happen to him.

At the suggestion of a visitor from the Reach, the ball will be a masquerade. That evening, Sansa and Arya prepare their masks. Sansa’s is simple, it barely covers her eyes.

Arya tsks at her while adding the fake fur to her wolf mask, that will go all the way over her head, like a helm.

“What’s the point of that, everyone will know it’s you.”

Sansa smiles sadly.

“Everyone will already know it’s me. They all do.”

Sansa’s gown is a gorgeous pale gold, enveloping her pale figure and making her look all the more regal, despite the anxious look on her face, and the filmy shawl hiding the marks on her arms. Arya’s heart tugs in her chest. She so desperately wants to tell her sister that everything will be okay, that she won’t have to marry that awful prince, but she knows how to keep mum, and she must.

The jousting ends, and the melee, and the archery contests, and Arya would be hard pressed to tell you the names of any of the winners. She doesn’t like this and hopes it ends soon.

Arya dresses for the feast and the ball, and tries not to let her worry show on her face. Sansa helps her lace up her gown and Arya places the wolf mask over her face, braids pinned neatly underneath.

Ned pauses outside when the handmaiden leaves, looking them both over. It’s been so long since he’s looked happy at all, that Arya beams.

“You look lovely,” he says, giving each girl a hug over their shoulders. “The both of you.”

When he hugs Arya, he slips her a bit of paper, which she tucks into her waist pocket. They’ve already discussed this, but she wanted it just in case.

“I’ll see you both at the feast.”

Arya and Sansa walk to the great hall arm in arm. Arya feels that her face must look preoccupied, because Sansa whispers to her,

“Thinking about your secret friend?”

Arya chuckles. She knew she was going to regret letting Myrcella call him that.

“One of these days, I’ll tell you all about him. But for tonight, I can’t.”

Sansa wiggles her eyebrows, and Arya realizes she’d never even let it slip before that Gendry was a “he”. Suddenly, she does wish she could tell Sansa all about him. As fun as it had been keeping him a secret all these years, suddenly, she just wants her sister’s advice.

The feast is lavish and rich. The centerpiece is what must be an entire roast auroch, with leeks and potatoes and huge boats of gravy. Smaller platters abound, rabbit in wine sauce, crispy fried duck, ocean fish wrapped in bacon. Arya barely has a tiny bit of each and she’s already nearly stuffed even before getting to the side dishes, the piles of oat breads, the parsnips and onions boiled in gravy, the little fried fishfingers. She barely even wants to look at the desserts, the gorgeous cream swans and piles of cakes, though she manages a single honey biscuit.

The spirits are flowing freely, and Arya watches as the king and queen at the high table make their way through what seems like it must be a whole barrel each. Sansa sips daintily at a single glass of Dornish red, while Arya slowly learns to appreciate her own cup of mead. No one else around them seems to be holding back.

By the time most of the dishes have been cleared, the music has started and the dancing begun, Arya is so full she feels like she can’t move. The nerves deep inside her don’t help. She can’t think that after tonight, she doesn’t know when (or even if) she’ll ever see Gendry again. Him being safe has to be the most important bit.

When the dancing begins, Sansa can’t refuse Joffrey’s offerred hand. He’d crossed all the way across the hall to ask of course, and this feast is in celebration of their upcoming marriage!

Everyone in the crowd are in masks. Some are as simple as Sansa’s (much as Arya said, the blue feathers do little to disguise her fair face and red hair), others are elaborate, more like headdresses than masks. Cersei herself is wearing a fringed golden mask, likely intended to resemble a lion. King Robert has apparently foregone the theme of the ball, and wears no mask.

Arya dances a few times. She’s not great, but as far as most of the expected ladies skills she was expected to gain, dancing is far from the most obnoxious, so she mostly sticks to the sidelines, watching.

King Robert is so drunk that he’s begun to slump over, though his mouth is still moving. Cersei’s back is ramrod straight, but her hand never leaves her wine glass, and it is never empty.

The night goes on, the crowd waxes and wanes, and Arya listens closely for the faraway sound of the time-keepers’ chimes. She’s waiting for twelve, the hour of the ghost.

Just when the night is beginning to drag on, and she hears the chimes go to eleven, Arya feels a tap on her shoulder.

The clothes he wears are simple, a wool tunic and leather breeches, but well made enough not to be out of place at the ball. He wears a simple black mask covering the upper part of his face, underneath the black iron helm, horns twisted to the front. All Arya has to see is his eyes before a grin sprouts on her face.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, excitedly, grasping both of Gendry’s hands in hers.

“Your father left a bit ago to go and rouse us all, so we could get ready,” he nods off to the edge of the ballroom, where Ned sits with a mug of ale, as though he’d never left. He’d only been wearing the simplest of black masks before, and is now bare-faced. “He gave me the mask, said he thought I might want to see you before we leave.”

Arya feels her face glow red, and she glances, embarrassed, towards where Ned sits.

“I’m glad he did.”

She reaches out and touches the helm. The metal is smooth, the horns well shaped.

“Is this-” she asks in awe.

Gendry nods.

“Your father went out, found Master Mott. He wanted to make sure I didn’t have any belongings I wanted to take with me.”

Arya swallows a lump in her throat. Of course Father thought of that.

“Have you ever been to the Riverlands?” Arya asks, choking back the emotion in her voice.

Gendry chuckles in response.

“I’ve never been out of King’s Landing.”

“Well it’s much nicer. I haven’t been many places there, but they’re all better than King’s Landing.” Arya assures him “Most places don’t stink like this.”

Inch by inch, the eleventh hour ticks by.

“Would you like to dance?” Arya asks at one point. Gendry quirks an eyebrow.

“This is a very rare offer, so I suggest you take me up on it.”

Gendry stands slowly, taking his hands in hers.

“I don’t really know how,” he admits.

Arya giggles.

“Don’t worry, neither do I.”

No one else on the dancefloor is paying any attention to them, the wine having flowed too freely. Arya hadn’t even finished her mead, but the butterflies in her stomach still take flight when Gendry places one hand on her shoulder and one on her waist like she shows him. As time keeps ticking, the butterflies turn to a body-wide sense of warmth. She rests her chin on his shoulder, and wonders if this was what all of Sansa’s breathless, giggly stories were trying to tell.

Their pleasant reverie is interrupted, by a sudden clamor and yelling. The two of them turn to find that King Robert, red-faced and full of rage. Cersei is standing, as red-faced as the king and shouting. Arya and Gendry are clear on the far side, and can’t hear what’s being said, but even from the distance, Arya would swear she sees the Queen’s lips stained silver.

Arya turns to Gendry, looks him up and down, and says,

“Let’s get out of here.”

She takes his hand and they slip out of the ballroom. The stairs outside that the walk following Ned’s direction twist around the outside, and when there’s a sudden loud noise, Arya can kneel and peer down through one of the balconies.

There’s another noise, more recognizable as a crash, and people start yelling in alarm, and milling about, and there’s someone on the floor, and Gendry tugs Arya’s hand and they leave it behind.

The path they follow comes out behind the stables. When they get there, there are already three horses saddled up, and one of the Stark’s men already in the saddle.

Mheagen holds Barra, who’s sleepy but not quite out, in her arms. She looks a little wane, and Arya suddenly wonders if she’d been eating any of the food left for her daughter and inadvertently consuming the poison. Gendry takes her from her, and lets Mheagen mount the light brown mare before handing her daughter back to her.

It gives Arya an odd feeling, seeing him hold a young child.

The two of them, and the guard, leave first, once they have their packs. Mheagen looks frightened, and Arya wishes deeply for their safety. She hopes Winterfell isn’t too much for them.

Mya is tall, nearly as tall as Sansa, and despite her diminished weight, the joili nut doesn’t seem to have taken much of an effect on her. Her and Gendry catch each other’s gaze, and Arya can’t quite name the emotion going through them.

Mya can mounts her horse easily, but Gendry’s never been on a horse in his life, and Arya has to show him how to step into the stirrup and swing his leg over.

“Let her do most of the work,” she tells him, still gripping his hand.

She doesn’t have time to even attempt a farewell, when they’re interrupted by the thumping of feet. Arya spins rapidly, expected Gold Cloaks. Instead she just sees Ned, holding a bundle, sweaty and frantic.

He shoves the bundle into Arya’s arms.

“Go,” he tells her.

“Father what-”

“It’s not safe,” his voice spills, “The king is dead, the queen too. Poison. Joffrey ordered the city closed off.”

Arya’s head swims, but Ned is already looking from Gendry to Mya.

“Keep her safe,” and they both nod solemnly.

He hugs Arya, whispering.

“You remember Harwin right?”

Arya’s head is still swimming.

“The master of horse from Winterfell-”

Ned runs a hand along the back of her head, unpinning her braids.

“He’s living in the Riverlands now. He’s loyal, you can trust him.”

He looks Arya up and down.

“Can you ride in that gown?”

This is real, Arya suddenly realizes.

“Umm, help me unlace,” she asks, turning her back. Ned pulls her laces on her gown, and laughs softly when she lets it drop to the ground, revealing the deerskin breeches she’d slipped on underneath. Old habits are hard to break.

Ned hands her the gown, folded up, along with the bundle.

“You should be able to sell that, but don’t right away. People might come looking.”

Arya mounts the horse in front of Gendry, clutching the bundles, and one of Ned’s hands.

“What about Sansa and Edric?” She asks, in a very small voice.

Ned sighs.

“I’ll do what I can for them,” he rubs the back of Arya’s hand, above her thumb. “Be safe, Little Wolf.”

Arya has to show Gendry how to kick to get the horse to move. It’s still pitch black as they leave the Red Keep behind, the lights from the celebration still shining in the distance.

Arya’s not even seven-and-ten yet, and she’s not sure where her life is going to go.

#game of thrones #A Song of Ice and Fire #fic #gendrya

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ivalice-tifalucis · 4 years

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Alright speaking of football, I really and completely dive back into this again. I notice the last time I watch football religiously (like waking up at early morning almost every week just to watch Barca’s game) which was around 2013, I wasn’t active on tumblr yet. I did occassionally reblogged football stuffs. I watched important games like few El Clasicos or Champions League finals. I did sporadic live blogging during the last World Cup. But now that I’m back like really back I notice things are different.

First, women’s football. I once ramble in someone’s post about the inequality of women’s football compare to men in USWNT. I said that women’s football didn’t really develop until 1970s while men’s football was starting to develop since 1900s and so it will take time for women’s football to get more developed. The difference that I notice is that now more mainstream media especially in England, where the center of football is, promotes their women’s team more. I notice Barca also do that for quite a while now, I just couldn’t believe that others do the same!! What I love even more is that if you take a look at let’s say Barca Femeni (who just got a new stadium fyi) or Liverpool’s women videos on youtube, the comments are mostly positive and most come from fanboys. They wish the female team all the best and to succeed, even include them in some banter. People also discuss how to improve women’s football since no matter what female will always going to be physically inferior than men and football is very physically demanding. Like many people suggest that women’s football need to have different regulation with the game. This shows that people care about female football. People also comment on footballers daughter who was just playfully kicking ball with “wow imagine if she becomes a footballer too” like these kinds of comments and discussions didn’t exist 5 years ago.

Second, the wheels are turning. Like a circle of life, there’s also circle of football domination. Last time I’m in, Barca was still a club that everyone are afraid of. Today, we are so poor it makes me sad. Liverpool comeback is just one of those moment. No, not the worst football club yet. We’re just becoming clown now, it’s embarassing. La Masia is also such a mess. That little boy Takefusa Kubo is now Real Madrid young player???!!! I hope we will get better soon (after the board members sacked!!!). I even missed out that Real Madrid won 3 UCL in a row (I only notice 2 until I went to Bernabeu tour and realized they have 13 trophies now 😑). Premier League dynamic has changed a lot. No more big 4 teams, they now have Leicester City too as dark horse. I was shocked when my brother told me they were about to win Premier League like what even the hell was that club?! Manchester United is sucking hard, Chelsea is shifting from rich club who buy everything to so so club to club who grow talents, Liverpool is only few weeks away from ending their 30 years of no league title (no longer a club who only talk about history), Manchester City is undisputedly giant crazy rich team along side PSG. Arsenal is the only one who stay the same, because Arsenal. Germany is suddenly not so good anymore.

Third, best player in the world. Apparently my favorite players are now old and soon will retire (some even have). The banter has shifted to discussion and general consensus that *insert player A* is great player instead of trying to compare A with B. Lionel Messi and Cristiano Ronaldo fans have finally find consensus that both players are the best ever. Sergio Ramos is now the best defender ever??? (Make sense tho the guy captained Real Madrid who won 3 UCL in a row, forget the fact that he loves collecting red card so much). Gerard Pique also the best now. Neymar since his departure to PSG has become mediocre, sad. Frenkie de Jong, I root for him to be successful. Who else hmm... Jamie Vardy is top scorer (I like him in a way that his life is motivating that sometime good things don’t come immediately like his life and career is quite insane for pro footballer standard, he supposed to not even become a football superstar!!). Mohamed Salah, I heard a lot about him because I have a cousin who is Liverpool die hard fan and media talk about him, he’s great (and sorta feel proud for him because he’s conservative moslem from Egypt, sadly a politically unstable country, and arab which is great for representation. He manages to lift the image of arab people and moslem especially around Merseyside just by being great). Another talent from Liverpool would be Virgil van Dijk that gd soft tall man and good defender but most important is Trent Alexander-Arnold (corner taken quickly which breaks my heart and amaze me at the same time). Kevin de Bruyne is what Pep really love in midfielder and indeed what a talent he is. Erling Haaland is looking good, I hope he’s not just one season wonder. Manuel Neuer is no longer as good as he used to be since terrible injury (now I understand his bloop in WC 2018) but now there are more sweeper keeper just not as crazy as him. He definitely set standards for future goalkeepers.

Fourth, retired players. One by one, players that I watched while growing up have retired. I saw Puyol and Xavi retired. Then Iker Casillas, the most recent one to retired after heart surgery scare last year, now a candidate for RFEF President. Iniesta is soom gonna be retired. David Villa, Fernando Torres. My favorite Spain NT players are now all retired ☹️. Schweinsteiger, Lahm, Robben, Mertesacker. Mertesacker is now Arsenal youth coach??!!! Mikel Arteta is now Arsenal’s coach. Other star players from Premier League like Frank Lampard (now Chelsea’s manager), Steven Gerrard, all have retired and become football manager. And a bit unrelated because I never actually see him playing (because I only start properly watch football since 2010 and by that time he had retired and I only heard stories) but Gary Neville as Valencia’s manager for short time?? 😂 (of course I would know that’s important information for all Carraville shippers). Everytime I hear news about footballer retirement I would be reminded again that I’m old.

Fifth, shipping. If you don’t notice this already, I now ship Jamie Carragher with Gary Neville which is not surprising since I always low key ship Gerard Pique with Sergio Ramos anyway. Apparently I always have a thing with pinning rivaling defenders who are hot headed, reckless, and hate each other at first until one day they don’t. And I swear that’s the most random ever. I’m not even Liverpool fan and never really into Man United (although my brother is sorta fan because he knows much about MU). But it all starts from me going around Liverpool’s tag on tumblr and found Carra’s instagram live. After watching all of their videos in Sky Sports on youtube, consider my self as a carraville. I even always try to find live streaming from Sky Sports for every Premier League matches that I watch. I must say, they’re the ones that make me want to go back to football fandom again.

All in all, I will never stop loving FC Barcelona. I may watch other games, less Barca games maybe because they’re not that enjoyable to watch these days. But now I understand, the feeling of watching Barca loses is different. It just so heartbreaking 😭 my heart only belong to that team. I’m so happy I finally got to be in Camp Nou even though I just lost my wallet at that time.

#my ramblings #story of my life #football #men’s football #soccer #fc barcelona #lionel messi #premier league #liverpool fc #manchester city #manchester united #carraville #real madrid

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rainhalydia · 4 years

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Hi! I recently read your post about Theon and Robb and I really enjoyed it. Thank you! I wanted to ask your opinion on the relationship between Robb and Sansa. How do you think she would feel(think) about him, when(if) she finds out about this whole exchange situation, Jamie Lannister, the will, etc?

Hi! Glad to know my nonsense was enjoyable! :D

Sorry if I don’t give you an answer as long and rambling as for the Theon-Robb question, but the relationship between Robb and Sansa doesn’t hold nearly as much ambiguity to me.

They both love each other dearly and they both see Robb as Sansa’s protector. They’re both sad when he fails in that job.

To elaborate a bit more, my impression is that not only Sansa, but all of Robb’s siblings see him as this third parental figure as the story goes on, not because Robb acts as a parent to them (though he does a bit for Bran and especially for Rickon), but because he’s meant to inherit Winterfell and all the obligations it brings as Lord Stark, including caring for his siblings, be it by giving them keeps, arranging or approving their marriages, etc. He is the one with the authority. They all accept as the natural order of things that Robb will be in charge once Ned passes. And given the way Ned’s death happens, no one is prepared for that, least of all Robb, and no one has spent much time thinking about it.

So once her father is gone - before that even, when Robb first starts moving south with an army - Sansa knows Robb is her best chance of escape. Mind, the information she actually gets is all distorted and edited, and she often suffers for his military victories, but this is what she thinks when she hears about it even after getting punished for it:

Robb will kill you all, she thought, exulting. "It's . . . terrible, my lord. My brother is a vile traitor."

And just a little while before that:

Joffrey gave a petulant shrug. "Your brother defeated my uncle Jaime. My mother says it was treachery and deceit. She wept when she heard. Women are all weak, even her, though she pretends she isn't. She says we need to stay in King's Landing in case my other uncles attack, but I don't care. After my name day feast, I'm going to raise a host and kill your brother myself. That's what I'll give you, Lady Sansa. Your brother's head."

A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head."

Notice that this is after Joff has made her stare at her father’s head, so this giving her heads thing is already a sore spot for her, and she’s so angry at him that she lets herself voice her real wishes for a moment there regardless of consequences. Sansa can’t ever show her true feelings while in KL, or she can do so safely only rarely, but she’s team Stark, and team Robb, from the start. She has faith in her brother to the end.

(Which makes it all the more sad, imo, that Robb doubts her at first when he gets her letter, but this is not about Robb.)

For all that Sansa lays her faith on Robb as the person with the authority and means to free her, it’s Cat that is more willing to bend society’s mores and rules for Sansa and Arya, going so far as to accept Tyrion’s word with no real backing and freeing Jaime. Once Robb becomes king, he’s much more tied down by what is expected of him to maneuver freely to get his sisters back. And there’s also the fact that he doesn’t trust the Lannisters, isn’t willing to negociate further with them, and wants to avenge his father.

Towards the end, he has given up on getting his sisters back entiretly. He thinks Arya is dead and Sansa will be killed once the Lannisters get a heir from her. I don’t remember exactly, but I believe Sansa is 13 or 14 when they marry her to Tyrion. Now, we as readers know the lengths Tyrion goes to in order NOT to hurt Sansa, but from the Stark pov, he may have send an assassin to murder comatose Bran, he sent false envoys to free Jaime and he’s fully aligned with his family’s interests. Getting a child or more out of Sansa and killing her, if she doesn’t die from childbirth anyway (GRRM loves to kill women this way, but in this case it’s actually plausible, okay, Sansa is very far from finishing her body’s development), is exactly what Tywin would do if he had the chance! Robb is wrong in his conclusion here, but only because Tyrion has the guts to challenge his father.

On her side, if Sansa doesn’t get all the information coming from the field, she also has more info than Cat and Robb about some things. She knows she is the only hostage the Lannisters have, and therefore unlikely to be exchanged. Once her brother and mother die, she knows people want her for her claim. This is what she thinks following her wedding:

They have made me a Lannister, Sansa thought bitterly.

Sansa is notable for twisting the truth in her povs when they’re too ugly to deal with, but she doesn’t shy away from this. It was the Lannisters that made her a Lannister, it was the Lannisters who uprooted her and took her Stark identity from her, at least on the outside. They killed her father, they killed her mother and brother, they made her a prisoner. She doesn’t blame Robb for failing to come to her rescue, or for failing to exchange her for another hostage. She puts the blame where it belongs.

With her blaming the Lannisters and loving her older brother, and later with her living as a bastard and understanding Jon’s situation more and thinking fondly of him, I don’t think she’d ever blame Robb for not exchanging her for Jaime or for naming Jon as his heir. With the matter of the will, Sansa also lacks the entitlement as heir. This is what she thinks:

he heir to Winterfell, she would think as she lay abed at night. It's your claim they mean to wed. Sansa had grown up with three brothers. She never thought to have a claim, but with Bran and Rickon dead . . . It doesn't matter, there's still Robb, he's a man grown now, and soon he'll wed and have a son. Anyway, Willas Tyrell will have Highgarden, what would he want with Winterfell?

She nevers considers Winterfell as her birthright. Compare it with the way Arianne plots to make sure Quentyn doesn’t get her place or Asha is in open competition with Theon, however much she loves him. Winterfell is a place of safety for Sansa, not her due. Even later on, when Petyr is planning to use her claim to make her an attractive bride, or when she thinks she’s not a beggar because she has Winterfell, she’s thinking of it as her home where she was safe and loved, not so much her political position as Lady Stark.

So I think that, even if she learns the whole truth or mangled rumors about how her mother freed Jaime for love, etc, and that Cat wanted to exchange him for her and Arya and Robb didn’t want to do it, or if Jon is declared king, she won’t hate any of them. She will know they tried to do all they could and that unfortunately they failed, and she’ll do all she can to honor their love and legacy.

#sansa stark #robb stark #the stark family dynamic is remarkably healthy #for the world they live in #in the end they love each other and stick by each other #or they will #and that's more than you can say for most great houses #Anonymous

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sheridans-dynamos · 5 years

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She’s A Killer Queen, Young And Sweet, Only Seventeen Part 1

Pairing: Roger Taylor x reader (past and eventual) Brian May x reader (past) Freddie Mercury x reader (past) John Deacon x reader (past)

Summary: It's 1989. Jamie Y/L/N is 19, and she's getting married in 2 weeks. She's spent her entire life on a small island in Greece, Kalokairi, with her mom Y/N. She's never met her father, she doesn't even know his name. She's always felt like there was a piece of her life missing. One day, she finds something in her mom's journal that may be the answer to the question that has been on her mind for as long as she can remember. Or it may just raise plenty more…

A/N: This is an idea I had a little while ago and I just couldn’t get it out of my head, so I started writing it. It’s pretty much the plot of the movie Mamma Mia!, but with the Queen boys. I’m really excited about this, I hope you guys like it! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next parts! (I put a gif of the real Roger, but it works with Ben!Roger too)

“Jamie! Can you bring me my drill? It should be in the first drawer of my desk. This stupid hotel is crumbling down.” Jamie nodded and headed upstairs to her mom's room, smiling at her mom's complaints. True, the hotel wasn't at its best, but Y/N did love it, no matter how much she complained. It had been her dream to open a hotel on the island ever since she set foot on it for the first time. Jamie had been born here, rarely ever leaving. She loved it dearly, the island, the hotel, her life. It'd had always been just her and Y/N. She was okay with that, cause her mom was the absolute best. But she couldn't help wondering about her father. Where he was. Who he was. Did he even know she existed? Probably not, she thought.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she reached her mom's room, trying to remember why she was up here in the first place. She clicked, heading towards the desk and opening the first drawer. And sure enough, there was the drill. She picked it up, and underneath she noticed a journal. She knew she shouldn't look at it, it was her mom's and it was personal. But her curiosity took the better of her. She set the drill down on the desk and reached for the journal, opened it carefully and started to read the first page.

July 30th, 1969

You had just gotten to Greece a few days ago. After graduating high school in America last year, you decided to take a year off, with the intent of traveling the world. You didn't get to until now, but you were determined to make the most of the time you had. Greece had always been the place you wanted to see the most, so that's where you headed first. It was beautiful. And so full of life.

You were wandering in the streets, not quite sure what to do with your day, when you spotted a ferry that was headed to a little island nearby. You decided to go check it out, it couldn't hurt.

The ride didn't take too long, and soon enough, you were stepping onto the island. Greece was beautiful, yes, but this was something else entirely. You had never seen anything so gorgeous. You'd been there only 5 minutes and you already knew you never wanted to leave.

The wind was strong here, but it was warm, so it wasn't bothering you much. You made your way up a hill, to get a better view. You spent some time there, admiring everything, when, out of nowhere, rain started pouring. You were taken aback, not expecting this at all. You were frantically looking around for a shelter, when you spotted a little cabin just a bit further down the road. You rushed towards it and opened the door, walking in and sighing as you closed the door behind you. You closed your eyes and leaned against the door, catching your breath, when you heard someone clear their throat and you jumped, your eyes opening quickly. A gorgeous blond man was leaning against the wall across from you, staring at you.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed. “I am so, so sorry! I didn't think anyone was in here! And the rain just started so suddenly and it's the first thing I saw and-”

You stopped your rambling when he chuckled lightly, a slight grin forming on his face.

“It's quite alright, love. Wouldn't want to get you wet now, would we?” He teased. He was looking you up and down and didn't even try to be subtle about it.

You blushed and looked away. That boy was gonna be trouble. He had way too much of an effect on you.

“I'm Roger. Roger Taylor. Feel free to stay in here as long as you want.” You looked back at him at that, a grateful smile gracing your lips.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “I'm Y/N Y/L/N,” you added after a pause.

“It's nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you too, Roger.”

It took about half an hour for the rain to stop, and you spent most of that time sitting at his table, looking anywhere but at him. He had an intense gaze, and you refused to get lost in his deep blue eyes.

He was sitting on the couch, not very far from you. But nothing was far from you in the cabin, really. It was fairly small. You could feel his eyes on you. He'd pretty much been looking at you the whole time while you were dead set on ignoring him. At first, it was because you felt intimated. But that feeling quickly faded away. You realized he was harmless. Well, harmless as long as you didn't give him the opportunity to break your heart. Because you knew he could. Easily.

“Are you really just gonna sit there without saying a word?” Your head snapped up at his words. “You haven't even looked at me since you sat down at that damn table. Am I really that intimidating?” His tone was coy.

“You wish.” You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape.

“Well, what is it then?” he asked, more seriously.

You looked him over, he was really handsome. And weren't you here to have fun, anyway?

“It's nothing.” You decided to throw caution to the wind, and motioned for him to come sit with you, and he gladly obliged.

“So, what'd you wanna talk about?” you asked, a small smile on your lips.

“What are you doing in Greece?”

“I always wanted to travel, see the world. And Greece just seemed like the right place to start I suppose.”

He nodded at your response.

“How long are you staying? Are you staying on the mainland or here on Kalokairi?” he asked.

“Woah there, so many questions,” you laughed.

“I don't know how long I'm staying, as long as I want I guess? And I was staying on the mainland, but, Kalokairi you called it?-” He nodded. “-It's so amazing here, I might just have to find a place to stay, at least for a little while.”

“You should, it's great here. Plus, I'm here. Big advantage for Kalokairi,” he grinned.

“Hmm yeah sure,” you huffed.

“Ouch, you wound me, love,” he said, putting his hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture.

You couldn't help the little chuckle that escaped your lips.

“So um, the rain's stopped. I should probably go,” you said as you raised from the chair.

“Hold on!” He got up hastily and you paused, looking at him.

“There's a place not far from here I know you'd love!” He said excitedly.

“We've met less than an hour ago, how could you possibly know what I'd love?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I just do. C'mon, trust me, won't ya?” He said, trying to look annoyed at your lack of enthusiasm, but you could see that he was hoping you'd say yes.

“Alright, fuck it. Lead the way,” you gestured towards the door. He grinned at you and took your hand in his, heading outside. You froze at the contact, his hand fit so well with yours. You shook your head slightly, pushing the thought out of your head and followed him.

You were sitting with Roger on one of the balconies of an abandoned hotel, your legs dangling off the edge. The view was truly incredible. It was hard to focus on that with having Roger sitting so close to you though. He'd made you laugh with his stupid jokes the entire way here, and you found yourself quickly letting down your defenses, feeling very comfortable around him.

You got up and walked back inside the room, Roger's eyes following you as you went.

“Okay, you were right.” You twirled around, making Roger laugh softly. “I absolutely love this place!”

“Told you you would!” He beamed at you.

“It must have been so beautiful when it was open!” you exclaimed, a dreamy look in your eye. “Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, must've been quite something.”

“One day, I'll fix this place up and run it! I'll make it the number one destination in Greece!”

He got up and made his way over to you. “That's quite the plan you got there.”

“Just you wait and see, it'll happen,” you said confidently.

“Oh I believe you, love. I wouldn't put anything past you.” The look on his face told you he actually meant that. It made you smile.

“Wanna grab a bite? There's a little restaurant not far from here that's pretty good, and I'm starving.”

“Yeah, that sounds great.” You smiled at him, and this time you were the one to take his hand in yours.

You’d spent the entire day with Roger, and it had been one of the best days of your life. Now you were in front of his cabin, staring at each other. His hand softly brushed a strand of hair out of your face, lingering there a second longer than necessary. You leaned into his touch slightly. He leaned down, his face a few inches away from you. You closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips softly against his. He used the hand that was already on your face to cup your cheek, his other one resting on your waist. He gave your waist a little tug, pulling you closer, a soft gasp escaping your lips and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You ran your hands through his hair, reveling in the sensation.

You kissed until you had to pull away for air. You rested your hands on his chest.

After a short, comfortable silence, he spoke up.

“So, want to come in for the greatest shag of your life?” He suggested with a grin.

Your eyes widened and he panicked a little, putting his hands up in mock defense.

“I was kidding! Well, not really, but I shouldn't have said it, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Well-” you trailed, tracing your finger along his chest. “-if it were just a shag… but the greatest shag of my life? Who could say no to that?” You said with a sly smirk.

“Indeed, who could?” He grinned and took your hand, leading you into his cabin.

“So, Roger Taylor, I've told you why I'm in Greece. But you still haven't. What're you doing here?” you asked him quietly. You were laying in his bed, your head on his chest and his arm around you. He was a cocky son of a bitch, but he had a right to be. He really was amazing. Not that you'd ever admit that to him.

He hummed, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Just had to take a break from London. The city, Uni, and all that shit.”

“What are you studying?”

“Dentistry. But that's not what I wanna do.” He paused, and you looked up at him, prodding him to go on.

“I wanna be a rockstar,” he said with a grin.

The look on his face made you think his dream was probably gonna come true, one way or another, and you rested your head back on his chest.

“A rockstar, huh?”

He hummed in agreement.

“Do you play anything?” you queried.

“Yeah. I'm a drummer.”

“And I'm really good,” he added after a beat, and you laughed.

“Well, that's good to know. You'll have to play for me sometime.”

“Definitely, love.” He kissed your hair, and shifted a little under you, moving into a better position for sleeping. He pulled you closer and you snuggled up to him, sighing softly.

August 13th, 1969

The last two weeks with Roger had been the best of your life. You had fallen head over heels in love with him in such a short amount of time, it was crazy. And even though neither of you had said it, you knew he loved you, too. You'd spent the last week talking about how you should both just stay here forever, and everytime you did he would just pull you in for a hug or a kiss, distracting you so that he wouldn't have to tell it wasn't possible. You knew it was a ludicrous idea, you both had responsibilities back home, but you didn't care. Not one bit. To hell with school back home. You didn't even know what you were going to study. And you hated school. The idea of going, learning something you didn't even care about, just to please your parents made your skin crawl. No, you wanted to stay here, forever. With Roger.

You walked back into the cabin, having just come back from picking oranges in a tree nearby. You smiled at Roger's shirtless sleeping form on the bed. You walked over to the kitchen counter with your bag of oranges, trying to remember where the juicer was. You opened a drawer and there it was. As you reached for it, your fingers brushed against a file, part of a picture slipping out of it. You could see it was a picture of Roger, so you pulled it out to look at it properly. Your smile faltered when you saw that he had his arms around a beautiful girl. She was beaming at him. You turned the picture over and read the inscription. “Engagement picture, June 30th, 1969” Your eye prickling with tears, you turned it over once again, to look at the girl's hand. And sure enough, she had a ring on her finger. You couldn't believe this. You let the oranges fall to the ground, threw the picture on the floor and rushed outside, slamming the door loudly behind you.

“Y/N?!” Roger shot up as he heard the door slamming. He looked around and saw the oranges on the floor, he got up hastily, concerned. He bent down to grab his pants, and that's when he saw it. The picture. Fuck. he thought as he rushed out after you.

“Y/N!” He was calling out to you, but you kept running, ignoring him. You had no idea where you were going, but you didn't care. You just needed to get away, as far away from him as possible.

Without even realizing you were headed that way, you found yourself in front of the abandoned hotel. Once you were inside, you finally allowed yourself to stop and catch your breath. But that was a mistake, cause Roger ran in not long after.

“Y/N! Y/N please just listen to me!” He panted.

You turned around, staring him down.

“I'd love to,” you said, trying to hold back your tears.

“You will?” he asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I'll listen while you answer 3 questions. “Are you engaged to that woman in the picture?”

He hesitated for a second before nodding slowly.

“Yes.”

“And did you tell me about it?”

“No.” Tears were forming in his eyes now. You looked away, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself.

“And do you seriously think I could ever forgive you?”

“Please don't-”

“Go.”

“Please, please just listen to me Y/N,” he pleaded, getting closer to you.

“No!” You put your arm up, stopping him from approaching. “That is enough listening! Go!”

“But-”

“Go, Roger.” You turned away from him, letting your tears flow freely now that he couldn't see you. You heard a choked sob, and then he finally left.

You cried for hours. That was it. The love of your life, gone, just like that. But knowing you and knowing Roger, there was nothing you could do.

@mazzelloplots @rogerinatrash @silverofthunder @perriwiinkle @sniktorthwip

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