#link is a horse girl and we need more of it in life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ramsayxme · 4 months

Text

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Chapter Three / AO3 Link

TW: emotional, physical, and sexual abuse. period sex, knives, cutting, rape, forced oral sex, forced anal sex, manipulation, ramsay bolton things. ramsay goes a little feral in this chapter.

Chapter Four: A Losing Game

You weren’t sure how many days had passed, but you knew Ramsay had lied. He didn’t come see you the next day, or the day after that. You were served cold soup and bread three times a day, sometimes only twice. Servants came in to give you more firewood, which was the only comfort you had. You desperately needed a bath and you wouldn’t dare submerge yourself in the stale water from days ago. You were fighting the cold off enough as it was, you didn’t need any additional threats.

You started your menstrual cycle this morning and your sheets needed to be changed. You wrapped a blanket around yourself as you walked to the door, pounding on the large wooden slabs. “Please, can someone help me? I need my sheets changed.” You felt humiliated having to ask for this. You were met with nothing but silence on the other side of the door. Feeling defeated, you walked back to your bed and sat down on the soiled linens. You almost felt hurt that Ramsay hadn’t come to see you. Had he forgotten you? You didn’t want him to forget about you. It felt wrong to admit it, but you liked the idea of him thinking about coming back from a hunt to be with you.

Your mind drifted off, imagining Ramsay dismounting his horse in the stables with his brain swimming full of ideas of what to do to you. Your thoughts were interrupted by the door clamoring as it swung open and a very disheveled looking Ramsay stepped inside before slamming the door shut and locking it. He wore filthy leather, caked with mud and blood. There were scratch marks and chunks missing from his leather outer coat. His trousers were stained with blood and his hair was messy. His hands were dirty, his fingernails darkened. “Hellooo, my lady.” His voice was still pleasant, almost a sing-song tone.

“Ramsay! You’re back.” You realized you sounded almost excited. He walked over to you with arms stretched out. You stood up and quickly embraced him, he stunk of iron, dirt, and sweat. You flushed red in the face realizing that not only were you being so obvious with your lust for him, but knowing that he would now see your soiled sheets. His strong arms embraced you tightly as he sighed. “It’s nice to know someone missed me.” He whispered. He pulled back from the embrace. “Ah, I see your red flower has blossomed this month.” He nodded at the sheets. You felt your cheeks turned rosy.

“Yes, My Lord, I asked for new sheets but…” your voice trailed off. Ramsay led you to the bed by your hand. He motioned for you to sit down on the bed. “I have servants bringing you fresh sheets, fresh clothes, and fresh water for a warm bath. I had a feeling you were neglected while I was gone. Nobody will treat you as well as I do, dear girl.” He smiled as he began unlacing his filthy clothes. “I need a bath as well, perhaps we can share the bath after I’m through with you.” He didn’t look at you while he finished undressing. You suddenly felt your heart race in your throat. You felt very ashamed of your cycle and didn’t ever let anyone near you during it. The mere thought of Ramsay even seeing you bleed was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole for the rest of your life.

“But, My Lord, I can’t…” you searched for the words to say. “I can’t…” Ramsay chuckled as the last bits of his clothing fell to the floor and he set his knives on the table, except for one that he kept in his hand. “What, you think a little blood is going to scare me away? Have you forgotten what I do for fun?” He chuckled, walking confidently over to you. His body was pale and naked, and rather dirty. He sat down on the bed, and you pulled your knees to your side, attempting to shield yourself from him. You did not want to do this, not like this. Ramsay grinned at you, his dark hair was still somehow perfect even though it was messy.

He placed the knife on the bed and then his hands on your legs and brought them back towards him, opening them so he sat in between your legs. You pressed your clothing down between your legs, covering yourself. “My Lord, I’m embarrassed, I don’t want you to see me like this…” you couldn’t look at Ramsay. His head cocked to the side. “If I want to see you, I’ll see you. It’s not up to you, and it never will be.” He stated, yanking your dress up to reveal your naked lower half. The inside of your thighs were bloody and slick. Ramsay stared as he gently ran his index finger across the blood. You hid your face in your hands. This was nearly unbearable. You felt utterly humiliated. You had never envisioned this.

“Why are you hiding from me?” Ramsay whispered, his hand still tracing up and down your blood covered thighs. You muttered from inside your hands, “I don’t want this. Please. Not like this.” Ramsay leaned forward, kissing your hands on your face. “I do want this, though.” He forcefully grabbed your hips and yanked you down so you were lying flat on the bed. He pulled your legs on either side of him so he was kneeling in between your legs. “I’ll tie your hands behind your head if you can’t keep them down.” He threatened. You whimpered as you brought your hands to your sides. Ramsay tore your dress in half instead of pulling it over your head. His hands quickly found your body, harshly kneading your bare skin on your stomach and chest.

He picked up the knife and effortlessly nicked your collarbone with the sharp blade. It stung and you felt warm blood trickle down your chest. “See? I don’t mind blood.” Ramsay leaned down and licked the blood that had freshly poured from your wound. He licked it up to the cut, and sucked on the open skin. You whined in an argument as he brought the knife to your throat. “Ramsay, please stop, I-“ he interrupted you. “Do you want to argue? There’s a game I have called the losing game. We can play it if you like! The rules are simple…you argue with me, and I get what I want. I always win! It’s quite fun...”

He rested the blade on your neck. You didn’t answer him, swallowing your rebuttals. Ramsay went back to your wound and licked it once more before dragging his lips down your chest. He removed the knife from your neckline and dragged it down, the tip of the blade barely pressed against your skin. He dragged the blade to your belly button and then set the knife aside. Ramsay lifted and spread your thighs, fully exposing yourself to him. You felt your eyes fill with tears as he stared between your open legs. You truly had never felt more humiliated. You began to blink your tears down your cheeks.

Ramsay noticed your tears and stuck his bottom lip out. "Poor girl. You're quite shy, aren't you?" A cry escaped your lips as he quickly plunged two fingers into your bloody slit. You wanted to cover your face, but you definitely didn't want to be tied up like this. You gripped the bedding. You admit, you did enjoy the feeling of his fingers sinking into your extra sensitive core, but you were too distracted with the burning of your cheeks to pay much attention to the feeling. Ramsay slid his fingers in and out of you a few times before pulling them out and showing them to you.

They were slick with blood and perhaps a small amount of arousal, it was impossible to tell. He grinned wildly as he admired his fingers, his eyes wide as he wiggled them towards you. In an instant, the hand that was just inside you was tightened around your neck. You gasped as Ramsay quickly choked you. The blood from your neck wound mixed with his bloody fingers. Ramsay chuckled as he mortified you. He reached down with his other hand and plunged two fingers into you, watching you squirm and writhe under his chokehold.

"It feels good, doesn't it? You know, your humiliation just turns me on even more, my dear." He growled, his fingers curling inside you and instantly making your cheeks flush. Your tears kept rolling down your temples as you lie in the bed. Ramsay leaned forward and licked one of the tears, humming with pleasure. "I like tasting every bit of you." He whispered in your ear. Your eyes rolled to the side, an attempt to avoid him. He pulled his fingers out of you and raised them to your face. "Every. Bit." He grinned wickedly as you watched him put the two fingers in his mouth. You winced, squeezing your eyes shut, your face bubbling with discomfort.

Ramsay was clearly loving this. He watched you squirm with a smile on his face. You trembled and began to cry harder as you watched him suck the blood from his fingers. He groaned with pleasure as you struggled underneath him. "You make such pretty sounds when you're miserable, do you know that?" He asked you as he plunged his fingers back inside you. You whined, your body was in combat between arousal and shame. There was something dark and possessive in his eyes as his stare burned through you.

He pulled his fingers out and immediately began rubbing his hand on his cock. His teeth were grinding tightly as his eyes widened, his beaming face telling you everything you needed to know. Ramsay was downright enthusiastic about getting to fuck you while your cunt was bloody. He lined up the head of his cock and placed it between your folds. Before he pushed his length inside you, he exhaled. "I am going to enjoy this."

Forcefully, his cock plunged into your soaking cunt. Not only were you slick with blood, but you were regrettably quite aroused. Your sore and swollen insides were being massaged by his cock and you couldn't deny that it felt amazing. You mewled as he began pumping in and out, his eyes glued to his cock. His eyebrows furrowed and his jaw hung slack, something you hadn't seen before. Ramsay was enjoying himself so much that he was being swallowed by pleasure. His eyes shifted up to you, where he met your gaze. His facial expression did not change, his mouth slightly parted and his eyes desperate. He licked his lips softly. You felt your core heat up as a moan escaped his lips as they parted again.

You almost felt proud, knowing that your body was bringing Ramsay so much pleasure that he had let his guard down, allowing his tough exterior to almost melt away from the sensations. Your heart fluttered at the sight of a softened Ramsay. You wondered if perhaps you could be the woman to break him? Before you could indulge in any more thoughts, the familiar smirk broke across his face again. "I'm feeling selfish, love." He groaned. Your stomach quivered when he called you 'love'.

He pulled his cock out, leaving you empty. "Roll over for me." Ramsay commanded, his cock twitching and dripping. You didn't dare disobey, and you rolled to your stomach, feeling blood trickle out of your cunt. Ramsay growled at the sight of the bloody sheets, and just as you adjusted to being on your stomach you felt his cock between your ass cheeks. He grabbed both of your wrists and held them down by your hips as he forced his cock into your ass. You screamed, your body completely unprepared for this. The blood and arousal allowed him to shove inside you, his cock completely stretching your asshole.

You scream and fight, any attempt to get out from underneath him. "Ramsay!! Stop!" He just growls with affection in return, his cock beginning to pump in and out of your virgin asshole. From the groans and grunts coming from behind you, Ramsay is clearly enjoying this. He lets go of your wrists, one hand grabbing the knife next to you, the other hand snaking under your hips and sliding three fingers into your cunt. "Stop, My Lord, please..." You whine. "Say stop again, and you'll wish you hadn't." He groans, the knife pressing into your spine.

With your hands now free, you reach up by your head and grab onto the bedding. You bury your face in the blankets, allowing yourself to fully cry. He pulls his fingers from your cunt and he wipes the blood across your back. Ramsay tosses the knife on the floor as his hands move to work at your ass cheeks, kneading and squeezing. He bucks his hips hard, you feel like your entire backside might rip in half. You hear his breathing get jagged, and his strokes get quicker. One more deep plunge into your ass, and his cock starts leaking cum. He groans as he slowly fucks your hole through his orgasm.

He pulls out, leaving you aching and sore. You immediately roll back over in an attempt to shield yourself from any more penetration. Your lower core is throbbing and leaking. Ramsay is out of breath and covered in beads of sweat. His eyes are soft with orgasmic haze. His forehead dripping with sweat as his curls clung to his skin. He grins at you while your eyes fall to his waist. His cock is bloody, and blood trickles down his legs. He stands up and takes a deep breath. "Well, that was lovely, wasn't it?" He walks over to a pile of spare blankets that were placed in the room at some point during your sexual encounter and wraps one around his waist.

You notice his pale and toned chest glistening with sweat, but you are too broken to feel much about it at this point. Your asshole aches and your cunt continues to bleed. You're covered in blood from the nick on your collarbone and you feel washed up and abused. Apparently while Ramsay was savaging you, the servants had crept in and prepared fresh bath water for you and him. He walked over to the steaming tub, dropped the blanket, and climbed in. He sighed as he sunk into the hot water. "Are you waiting for something, love?" He uttered as he stared at you, still on the bed. "Come join me."

You slid off the bed and meekly sauntered to the bath, aware of the blood dripping on the floor from your naked body. Ramsay smiled as he held a hand out to help you climb into the tub. You stepped in and he helped you sit, placing you between his legs so you could lie back against his chest. You trembled as his arms wrapped around your waist under the water. The hands that were just abusing you were now caressing you as if you were a fragile prize to be won. He held you close and nuzzled into your neck as he pulled you back to rest on his body.

"You're very good to me." Ramsay whispered, peppering a kiss on your ear. You felt anger boil within you. "You're not good to me." You muttered. You felt his chest heave as he exhaled a chuckle. "I'm not? I believe I have saved your life multiple times. I bring you fresh linens. I feed you. I bathe you. I watch over you." his voice lowered as he spat the last words, "I pleasure you." You didn't have the strength to argue with him, you knew it wouldn't change his mind either way. You exhaled, allowing your body to slowly sink into Ramsay's chest. His hands were gently brushing across your body under the surface of the water, cleaning your skin from the blood. The water was quickly darkening from Ramsay's filthy body and yours.

It was alarming how safe you felt in Ramsay's embrace. You were too exhausted to question it, but you still knew it was unnerving. This is the man that hurt you, but yet he cradled you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the seven kingdoms. He was gently rising and falling with his breath as you rested on him, feeling his strong heartbeat pumping through his chest. "You know, love..." He started, his hand came out of the water to move your hair to the side so he could whisper to you. "Perhaps someday I'll marry you and you can give me an heir. Would you like that?" He cooed in your ear softly.

Without thinking, you nodded. Somehow, the idea of being Ramsay's bride settled your stomach. You feared him all the same, but knowing that you could belong to him made you feel... at ease. "Yes, My Lord. That would be wonderful." You were surprised at your own words. Ramsay squeezed you gently. "Good." He whispered, his lips lingering on your ear. Your brain swirled at the idea of him abusing you and then comforting you for the rest of your life, but somehow it seemed better than the alternative; being flayed alive. Perhaps you would grow to enjoy Ramsay's antics. Perhaps Ramsay would calm down once he fell in love and created a baby with you. You smiled at the thought, but deep down knew you were being foolish. Ramsay? Calm down? Never.

Chapter Five

44 notes · View notes

jjkamochoso · 17 days

Text

The Perfect Fit

Story Overview: Levi Ackerman begrudgingly finds himself falling in love with the Survey Corps’ seamstress. Will they be able to own up to their feelings for each other? Or is their love doomed to fail before they discover the truths of each other’s hearts? This slow burn reader insert story will be filled with angst, yearning, and a bit of mystery as we slowly unravel the truths behind Y/N’s past… and explore her and Levi’s future!

Chapter 3

Chapter 2 linked here

Chapter 4 linked here

Levi Ackerman x female reader

Warnings: cussing, minor character death (not graphic)

As the hours rolled by with nobody from the surrounding villages showing up to their appointments with you, you started to get stressed out. Were they all a bunch of no shows on purpose? Your prices weren’t extravagant but you knew times were tough on everyone, especially after the breach of Wall Maria. Citizens of Wall Rose were fighting for their fair share of resources and jobs while refugees tried their best to not starve on the streets. It was a constant battle for food and wages for anyone outside Wall Sina and you hated to see people fighting amongst themselves when a much larger threat loomed right outside the failing walls. With nothing else to do, you took the time to look over Captain Levi’s torn cape and decide how you were going to mend it. Why did he do that in the first place? Was he taking pity on you? You didn’t mean to tell him all your financial woes, they just slipped out in the heat of the moment. Maybe he just wanted to test your skills with the sewing machine he got you? Yes, that had to be it. You had given the machine a trial run earlier and now you felt confident enough to use it on commissioned pieces. Taking in a deep breath to steady yourself in the midst of the most important project of your life, you got to work.

You sewed tirelessly throughout the afternoon and evening, barely stopping for breaks. You needed to be sure this cape was done before you took your horse into the village tomorrow to see a veterinarian. Speaking of your horse, you heard her let out a long, high pitched whinny. You quickly pushed your chair away from the table and hurried outside. She looked even sicker than she did this morning—an extremely bad sign. She could barely stand, wobbling in her pasture. There was no way she could make the journey into the village, you’d have to run there and ask for an emergency veterinarian house call. You began to cuddle up to her, whispering sweet nothings to her to calm her down, and you could tell she was becoming more and more content. Placing a long, sweet kiss to her snout, you reluctantly pulled away.

“Hold on for me, sweetheart. I’m going to get you some help. Just hang in there. Please.”

Your horse just looked at you and you prayed to whatever higher being might hear you that she understood your intentions. You ran back inside to grab a lantern and jacket for the run through the chilly night air. Taking one last look at your horse, you ran as fast as your legs could take you to the village with the vet.

You were sure that when you came running into the village you looked like a complete madwoman, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that you needed to get to the vet’s house as fast as humanly possible. When you saw his house, the front lantern thankfully still lit, you ran up to the door and pounded on it.

“Dr. Becker! Dr. Becker! Please, it’s an emergency! My horse is sick. I need your help, please!”

There was no answer. Your fists collided with the door mercilessly until finally there was movement behind the creaking wood.

“Don’t you realize how late it is, girl?” the older doctor asked, opening the door. He had a disgruntled look on his face that only slightly softened when he noticed how desperate and close to tears you were.

“Please, Dr. Becker, my horse is sick. She can barely stand, won’t eat, and she’s been coughing. I’m begging you, please do an emergency house call right now for her. I don’t know where else to go.”

He sighed, rubbing his hand on his face. “I’m off duty right now, you know.”

“I know. I have money,” you said, pulling out a pouch of coins and letting him inspect them to prove their authenticity. He let out a “hmmph!” and collected his medical bag.

“Come, child. Show me the way.”

When your house came into view, it took all you had to not climb out of the cart you were riding in to run and greet your beloved companion. As Dr. Becker parked his horses, you ran over to your own. She was lying down, completely still.

“No, no, no!” you exclaimed tearfully, your hand in front of her snout to check for breathing. There was none. Dr. Becker made his way over to you, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’ll check to make sure she’s truly gone before I leave.”

As he got on the ground to check her pulse, your mind was reeling. What were you going to do? You barely had enough money to cover the vet visit, there was no way you could afford a whole new horse! And what about your own house calls? You used to ride your horse into the village once a month to help out your elderly customers who couldn’t make the journey to your workshop. The kind veterinarian caught your eye and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. She’s dead.”

You were too numb to cry. In a daze, you handed the doctor your pouch of coins to cover the inconvenience of coming all this way, but he would only accept a third of the full payment.

“You need the money more than I do,” he explained, eyeing your deceased horse and ramshackle house. When he said goodbye and left, you realized you truly were alone. You didn’t know what to do with your horse’s body. It was going to be another hot day tomorrow and you didn’t want her to rot in the sun. It was too late at night to do anything about it, though, so you covered her with a sheet and went to bed.

The next morning was extremely difficult for you. You had to drag your body out of bed, the stresses of last night weighing you down. After you nibbled on a small breakfast, you heard a cart coming down your dirt path.

“Dr. Becker said there was a deceased animal here to dispose of?” one of the men had asked you when you walked outside. You confirmed, pointing the team to white sheet in the pasture. They loaded her onto the cart and you whispered a final farewell to your best friend and most faithful companion. Going back inside, you looked around you, gauging what work still needed to be done. You spied Levi’s cape in the same spot you discarded it hours prior. You knew that had to be finished first since he was coming to pick it up later today. You tried to drown yourself in the work but it didn’t distract you enough. When your tears landed on his cape, it took everything inside you not to scream out in frustration. You went to the bathroom to splash water on your face, hoping it would ground you. Instead, you just took notice of your unkempt appearance. Your life had gone from normal to shambles in a matter of hours and you were at a loss of what to do. It was difficult times like these that made you wonder if you made a mistake leaving Wall Sina…

No.

You couldn’t afford to dwell on things you can’t change. You could only look forward and that’s exactly what you were going to do. Getting ahold of yourself, you reminded yourself that Captain Levi entrusted you with his cape, meaning your career, at least, wasn’t in shambles. You had a great skill set that was near impossible to replicate so at least you had that going for you. You got back to work, still worried about your future but less distraught.

Another work day over, you awaited Levi’s arrival at your door for the pick up of his belonging. When the clock struck 5pm, you expected to hear him knocking at your door, but there was nothing. You didn’t know much about the man, but you knew he was always on time. You furrowed your brows when it turned to 5:10 and there was no sign of him. Was he going to stand you up like everyone else today?

BAM BAM BAM

Whoever was at your door, it certainly wasn’t the captain. You heard bickering on the other side of the door.

“Eren! You can’t pound on a door like that, especially if it’s a lady’s house!”

“Shut up, Armin. We’re in a hurry. I don’t need Captain Levi being any madder at us for being late than he already is.”

You opened the door to reveal a trio of teens.

“Ms. L/n! We’re here to pick up Captain Levi’s cape,” Armin said, a sweet smile on his face. You were well acquainted with these kids, mostly because they were always running into battle and ending up with torn uniforms (especially Eren—what on earth could he be doing to always end up with shredded shirts?).

“I’ll get that for you right away. Please, come in.”

The kids walked into your place, seemingly scrutinizing it.

“Yes, I know it’s dirty and falling apart. Your captain already lectured me on it.”

“That’s no surprise. He’s always in a bad mood,” Eren grumbled. You gave Armin the cape and Mikasa handed you the money. It was a large sum but you couldn’t even find it within your heart to be excited.

“Thanks you guys. Want any treats while you’re here?”

Their eyes lit up. Even Mikasa seemed to have a happier expression on her face as you handed them each a small piece of pastry you had made a few days prior. As they snacked, you noticed Mikasa eyeing your embroidery hoop.

“I do embroidery too. Anything you want, I’ll do it. Personal clothes or inside of uniforms. Names, symbols, whatever. Since you kids are almost single-handedly keeping me in business with all the clothes of yours I fix, the first few personalizations are on the house.”

Mikasa looked lost in thought, like she was remembering a long lost memory or something. All of a sudden, her face turned back to her near emotionless state. The three of them gave you their thanks and were ready to leave when Armin spoke up once more.

“Ms. L/n? Where’s your horse, I brought her a small apple slice. I know how much she loves them.”

You really didn’t want to cry in front of the kids over something so silly but you were close to breaking down.

“She died last night,” you explained, letting out a shaky breath. “She was sick for a short period and died in the 20 minutes I left to get the veterinarian.”

The blonde, upon hearing the news, gave you a big hug. “I’m so sorry, I knew how much you loved her. We all did.”

“What are you going to do now? Get a new one?” questioned Eren.

“I’m not sure yet, but that’s not for you kids to worry about. Now head back before Captain Grumpy finds out you’ve been messing around here too long.” When the kids and their horses were out of view, you let out another long sigh. What were you going to do?

Levi had been swarmed with meetings, swarmed with paperwork, swarmed with people bothering the shit out of him. He was in a worse mood than usual and anybody who got in his way felt his wrath. He felt bad for snapping at people, but his head just hadn’t been in the right place the past few days. Ever since his run ins with the seamstress, she hadn’t left his mind. She was strange to him, too happy go lucky for her own good. She was careless; who walks through forests without a horse these days? She was too kind for her own good. He was also jealous of the way y/n’s job was ridiculously ordinary. Being a seamstress in these times sounded woefully mediocre compared to fighting titans. It was, admittedly, still an important job. He gave her shit for showing preference to Hange’s uniforms, but if he was telling the truth, he would’ve never noticed that she wasn’t using a sewing machine. Her work was neat, precise—traits Levi could appreciate. The thing about y/n that bothered Levi the most was how damn pretty she was. Sure, he’d been attracted to a few women here and there, but they all paled in comparison. There was something about her that was magnetic, pulling Levi in, causing him to want to know more about her. This thought made him want to puke. He couldn’t get attached to any more people, he couldn’t afford to. Levi’s heart had been smashed into too many pieces by now, too many deaths he’d had to face of people he loved. His head was in the right place, trying to convince him to ignore her and focus on his duty as a soldier, but he found himself listening to his heart more and more. Finding that sewing machine for you was a pain in the ass since they were extremely hard to find, especially in working order. He had pulled some strings to get information, eventually buying one off a villager who’d “acquired” it in the interior. Then, him taking you home was something he’d never thought he would do for some stranger, especially letting you hold him in such a way that made his breath catch in his throat and his hands go clammy. The final nail in the coffin was when his fingers disobeyed any notion of common sense, ripping the biggest hole he could manage in his cape for you to fix so you could make some more money. It was no secret he had a soft spot for animals, but there was no reason he should’ve felt as bad for you and your horse as he did. Also, your house was a total wreck and he wanted to scream at Erwin for allowing you to reside there. When he thought back about his actions, he grimaced. You were just some girl he met a few days ago. How were you making such an impact in his life already? That’s why he made Eren and his friends pick up his cape. He needed to avoid you for as long as possible, needing a clear head and heart to save humanity, not pine over a random woman. He looked over the freshly fixed cape, admiring your handiwork. He could barely make out where you had sewed it back together. Your talent was a sight to behold and he was glad his intuition was right to put his trust in you. He placed the soft cloth into a drawer to wear another time and decided he needed some tea to clear his head. When he reached the cafeteria, he overheard the trio talking about you.

“That’s so sad about Ms. L/n’s horse. I wonder how she’s going to keep working without her,” Armin had said. Levi’s eyes widened slightly. Did your horse die that quickly? That would be bad news for you, personally, and him, professionally. He and the Scouts relied on you to come in half the week to do your work in the castle. There was no way you would be walking here and back, Levi would never allow you to put yourself in danger like that. He pretended not to listen, warming water in a kettle.

“I know. I feel bad for her, but there’s no way we can use the resources to keep traveling back and forth every time we need something fixed. It would be easier if she lived here.”

“Maybe if y/n lives here, you won’t have to do uncharacteristically nice things to spend time with her.”

Levi jumped at the sound of Hange’s voice unexpectedly in his ear. “Fuck off, four eyes. You almost made me spill my tea.”

Hange just laughed while Levi rolled his eyes. He hated to admit it, but Eren and Hange both had a point. If you worked for the Survey Corps, why wouldn’t you live with them? There was plenty of room here, it wasn’t like the place was overflowing with soldiers. He took his tea to go, finding solace in the quiet of his room. If Hange and the other soldiers wanted you to live here, fine. He just didn’t want to get involved with anything surrounding you. What did he care what you did, where you lived, what you spent your time doing? And where did Hange get the idea he wanted to spend time with you? Your meetings had been coincidental and ones of convenience. Whether or not you moved in with the Scouts, it would be of no matter to Levi. Like he thought before, he didn’t need another person to care about—you would die prematurely and leave him all alone, just like everyone else did.

Chapter 4

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader angst #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi fluff #levi angst

20 notes · View notes

areyoudreaminof · 9 months

Text

and we kissed as though nothing would fall: A Helion x Lady of Autumn Playlist

It's a great day for being sad! Here's Helion x Lady of Autumn for you.

Of all the novellas and backstories, I know we all want this the doomed affair that lasted for centuries, and resulted in our favorite fox boy. There has to be so much hurt and longing still lingering there. This playlist goes through the range of emotions that I thinkk this heartbreak brought upon both Helion and the LoA. But I wanted there to be hope too. That soft kind of hope that these two can come back together to each other where they belong.

Listen Here! Lyrical deep dive under the cut.

Special dedication to my favorite Helion x LoA besties @spell-cleavers and @ablogofsapphicpanic

I've added a second link to the playlist above, as it seems that it does not show up on the browser, just mobile.

The One That Got Away-The Civil Wars Got away from me Before anybody has to bleed

Oh, if I could go back in time When you only held me in my mind Just a longing gone without a trace Oh, I wish I'd never ever seen your face I wish you were the one I wish you were the one that got away

A Record Year for Rainfall-The Decemberists

What's the use of all of this? It's to remember you in the entire 'Cause I'm watching it slip away And in the annals of the empire Did it look this grey Before the fall?

Falling Slowly-The Swell Season

Falling slowly Eyes that know me And I can't go back And moods that take me And erase me And I'm painted black Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won

Samson-Regina Spektor

You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth I have to go, I have to go Your hair was long when we first met

Beloved Wife-Natalie Merchant

My love is gone Now my suffering begins My love is gone Would it be wrong if I should Surrender all the joy in my life Go with her tonight?

Such Great Heights-Iron & Wine

I am thinking it's a sign That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned And I have to speculate That God himself did make us into corresponding shapes Like puzzle pieces from the clay

Skinny Love-Bon Iver

Come on, skinny love, just last the year Pour a little salt, we were never here My my my, my my my, my my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer I tell my love to wreck it all Cut out all the ropes and let me fall My my my, my my my, my my Right in this moment, this order's tall

Hey Jupiter-Tori Amos

Sometimes I breathe you in And I know you know And sometimes you take a swim Found your writing on my wall If my heart’s soaking wet Boy, your boots can leave a mess

No Rest for the Wicked-Lykke Li

My one heart hurt another So only one life can't be enough Can you give me just another For that one who got away? Lonely I, I'm so alone now There'll be no rest for the wicked There's no song for the choir There's no hope for the weary If you let them win without a fight

No One's Gonna Love You-Band of Horses

Anything to make you smile You are the ever-living ghost of what once was I never want to hear you say That you'd be better off or you liked it that way And no one is ever gonna love you more than I do No one's gonna love you more than I do

I Need My Girl-The National

I am good, I am grounded Davy says that I look taller But I can't get my head around it I keep feeling smaller and smaller I need my girl I need my girl

Death With Dignity -Sufjan Stevens

Somewhere in the desert, there’s a forest And an acre before us But I don’t know where to begin But I don’t know where to begin Again, I've lost my strength completely, oh be near me Tired, old mare with the wind in your hair

The Greatest-Cat Power

Melt me down Into big black armor Leave no trace of grace Just in your honor Lower me down To culprit south

Heroes-David Bowie

Though nothing, nothing will keep us together We can beat them forever and ever Oh, we can be heroes, just for one day

And the shame was on the other side Oh, we can beat them forever and ever Then we can be heroes, just for one day

Taglist: @bookofmirth @bellatrixship @brieq @citruspearls @c-e-d-dreamer @damedechance @eyllweambassador @gaeleria @ofduskanddreams @highqueenmorrigan @hugeclearjellyfish @itsthedoodle @autumndreaming7 @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-has-a-mess @kingofsummer93 @lucienarcheron @octobers-veryown @andrigyn @mossytrashcan @witch-and-her-witcher @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @separatist-apologist @secret-third-thing @lucienforhighking @thesistersarcheron @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @vanserrass @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @xtaketwox @yazthebookish @wilde-knight @iftheshoef1tz @labellefleur-sauvage @carmasi @corcracrow @courtofthought @corvulpescompendium @tuzna-pesma-snova @cursebrkr @acourtdelaluna

Here is the link again. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/65pMS8WExB3Aywccg3CPn3?si=_R276WLATEWC9jUd1u4XWQ

#Spotify #loa x helion #acotar playlist project

64 notes · View notes

yespleasetommyshelby · 2 years

Text

That's twice now Tom!

Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: language, my writing?? It's rather rushed and hasn't been or off read

Enjoy! ❤️

---

"Nervous?" Aunt Pol's voice made me tear my eyes away from the reflection in-front of me, the big white dress, make up and hair done to perfection making me feel like a princess.

"A little." I whispered, smoothing my dress down once more before I turned to face her fully. "I can't help but feel like somethings off Pol." I sighed as my thumb played with the engagement ring sitting on my finger. "What?" I asked cautiously after hearing a small sigh escape her lips.

"It's nothing, I just-" she cut herself off with a shake of her head, not willing to admit to the girl who had become a daughter to her that she had had the same feeling all week. "I'm sure it'll be fine, now come on, let's make you officially a Shelby." She grinned, linking her arm with mine before leading me towards the door.

Just as she reached out towards the handle the door flew open with a red faced Ada and Arthur appearing making us take a couple of steps back.

"What is it? What's happened?" I asked concerned at the look covering the siblings faces. "Ada? What's going on?" I asked again as they both stood there staring at me in silence.

"Well? Spit out!" Polly all but yelled, finally kicking the two Shelby's into gear with Arthur speaking first.

"It's, uh, it's Tom." He muttered, his eyes flicking between me, Polly and the floor.

"What about him? Is he okay?" Rushed from my mouth as images of a beaten Tommy filled my mind, a sight I had seen all too often in our three years together.

"He's fine, he's alright." Arthur spoke quickly, his hands coming up infront of him as though he was trying to tame a wild horse.

"He's not coming y/n.." Ada trailled of quietly, so quietly that I barely heard what she had said, but I still heard.

"He's what?" I whispered, my eyebrows furrowed, yesterday before I had left to spend the night at Polly's we were wrapped up in each other's arms, whispering sweet nothings as he laid out his plan for the future into the quiet room, his plan that all started with me by his side.

"He said he can't do it because he's not good enough for you, he's a broken man after the war and he can't give you what you want, the white fenced house, three kids and a quiet life in the country, you deserve someone who can give you everything you could ever want or need and keep you safe from the darkness that is Tommy Shelby's world." Ada spoke with a strong voice, but the look in her eyes and the way her voice wobbled slightly gave away her true feelings that the words she was speaking were nothing but bullshit. "His words, not mine." She added on the end, sharing a sad look with Polly before all three sets of eyes landed on you.

"Bullshit." I spat with nothing but rage in my voice. "Keep me safe from his world." I repeated with a dark laugh as I shook my head, eyes squeezed closed. "What does he think I am? A fucking idiot? It's that tart of a barmaid and we all fucking know it!" I screamed snapping my eyes open as I tore the veil from my hair and threw it across the room into the mirror I was admiring myself in only moments before. "Where is he?" I growled, my eyes landing on Arthur as he shook his head slightly.

"You don't need to see him now aye." He gave me a small smile as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

"Arthur Shelby, tell me where he is now." I growled, my eyes narrowed as I kept them on him, the years we'd known each other helping Arthur to understand exactly what my look meant. 'Tell me before I punch you straight in the gut'.

"The Garrison." He muttered looking down to avoid the glare that Polly and Ada was currently sending him.

"Of-fucking-course!" I laughed to myself slightly before I threw open the door to find Tommy.

Ignoring the looks I got as I passed the collection of family and friends that were stood outside the church confused as to what was going on, I carried in my way not caring that my dress was dragging through the wet grass leaving stains of green across the bottom.

"Oi y/n/n! What's going on? Where are you going?" John yelled as he caught my figure walking away from the church.

"To murder your brother!" I yelled without looking back, my mind set on one thing and one thing only, Thomas fucking Shelby.

----

The time it had taken me to get to the Garrison did nothing to calm the rage that was still brewing inside of me, the once white dress I wore was now a greyish kind of colour with the bottoms painted a mix between the green of the church grass and the black grime that layered the streets of small Heath. Without a second thought I barged my way into the Garrison to see only two people, one of which being the one I was looking for.

"Y/N, listen, I-" his sentence was interrupted as my arm swung, connecting my palm with the side of his face, his head moving to the side from the contact.

"How fucking dare you?!" I seethed, my e/c eyes pinned to his light blue ones as he stood and stared at me in silence. The cheekbones that were once mine to stroke in the dead of night now a bright red with a slight gash where my ring had caught the skin.

"Maybe you should-" "Shut the fuck up!" I barked, my finger pointing at the blond barmaid who was stood to the side watching the silent staring match playing out between me and Tom. "You keep your fucking whore mouth out of my business!" I yelled grabbing a lone glass that was sat on the bar and throwing it in her direction behind the bar, the glass finding the row of alcohol on the back wall and shattering a few onto the ground below.

"You're not good enough for me? A broken man who can't give me what I want? You know what I wanted Tommy? I wanted you! No matter the danger, the enemies, the sleepless nights from the fucking nightmares! The guns, the blood, the fear, fucking everything! I would've gone to hell and back with you the second you asked and you know this! We've been talking about this day for almost 3 years now Tom, and you're just gunna throw it all away for what? For a blonde Irish girl with a pretty smile? The same one that appeared at the exact same time as that sleazy Irish inspector? What? Her pussy so good you can't see what's right in-fucking-front of you?" I screamed as I punched him in the chest multiple times, the man just standing there and staring down at me with his arms by his side, he knew he was wrong, he knew he'd broken your heart, and he'd take the pain for it, he may be leaving you for someone else, but a part of his heart will always be yours.

"Y/N, please list-" He started before I cut him off one last time. "No Tom, you don't get to apologise, you don't get to try and make me feel better, not anymore." I sighed as I shook my head, my anger fading and leaving nothing but pain as I looked up into his blue eyes. "I'm done Thomas." I smiled slightly before turning to walk away.

Reaching the door I pushed it open, taking a step outside before I stopped and turned around to face the pair one last time, my eyes moving from Grace to Tommy.

"Just know that when she fucks you over, and she will." I paused, my eyes focusing on the small smile on Graces lips before looking into Tommy's eyes for the final time. "I'm not going to be there to make the pain go away."

-----

3 years later...

It had been three years since the day I left small Heath for the hustle and bustle of city life in London, having cut contact with the entire Shelby/Gray family completely, not telling anyone where I had moved to, not even Polly, being in contact with them was too painful, the last I had heard was that Tommy had found Polly's son and Grace had done exactly what I thought she would, betrayed Tommy and disappeared to New York.

I can't help but sigh as my thoughts went back to Tommy, all the good and bad days we'd spent together, from our first meeting, our first date, kiss, night together to the day he proposed and the days we had spent planning every inch of our wedding, then finally to the day that it all went to shit. That day had done something good for me though, I had found a new passion in wedding planning and now spent my time preparing the weddings of other people to take the pain away from being horribly single and alone.

"Hey y/n." My assistants voice made me jump as she entered my office, my mind instantly snapping away from Tommy and back to the present. "Uh, Shelley had a meeting booked in but as you know she went into labour yesterday so.." she trailled off, closing the door softly before stepping towards me, her eyes watching me carefully as if waiting for a reaction.

"Okay?" I trailled off, already having discussed with Shelley that I would take over any weddings while she was away with the baby. "You know we already have an agreement so what's the problem?" I sighed, confused as the young girl stood with her hands fidgeting together.

"It's just that, uh, the clients are-" she was cut off as the door to my office swung open behind her revealing the last two people on the earth that I had expected, or wanted, to see.

Frozen just inside of my office was no other than Thomas Shelby, standing like a statue as he stared at me with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, raking over every inch of my body as though he was trying to make sure it was really me and not just his eyes playing tricks on him. Grace was stood just of to the side of him, slightly behind as her eyes narrowed towards me, her face twisting into a bitter frown when she realised just who was planning her wedding. Paying her no mind my eyes stayed glued to Tommy, he looked the exact same as the day I had left him standing in the garrison, except the bright red mark and gash that had once adorned his face was now gone, bar a slight scar from the gash, good, I thought to myself, a physical reminder of the day you fucked up.

"I see." I sighed as I was the first to look away, sending my assistant a small smile now realising why she was concerned about me taking the booking. "Thank you Annie." I nodded as she quickly excused herself before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

"Uh, right, uhm, take a seat." I muttered nervously, all self confidence going straight out the window as the two of them watched me with very different eyes, Grace's were full of jealousy and warning, as though she was expecting me to pounce across the desk and onto Tommy's lap at any second. While Tommy sat and watched me in silence, his expressionless eyes watching my every move, to anyone else he might seem indifferent, like seeing me hasn't just brought up years of memories and feelings, but to me, I could see it all, the confusion, the realisation, the guilt and the pain, he couldn't hide any of it from me, he never could.

"Is there nobody else who could do this for us?" Grace's voice interrupted the silence as she gripped onto Tommys arm fluttering her eyelashes up at him.

"No." He spoke with assertion, no room for discussion in his answer.

"Fine." She huffed crossing her arms over her chest as she leant back in her chair. "Let's just get this over with."

"So, that's the colour scheme, the flowers and the music sorted." I nodded to myself as I looked down at the list sitting on my desk. While it felt as though it lasted way more than an hour, the appointment hadn't been too bad really, minus the super awkward beginning and the fact that Grace seemed to want her wedding to be exactly like the one she had ruined for me three years ago, it was rather easy to pretend that Grace was just another bride while I ignored Tommy completely, not that he had much to put into the conversations giving a simple 'yes' or 'no' here and there while his eyes stayed firmly on me.

"Go out to the car, I'll be there in a minute." Tommy instructed Grace as they made their way to the door making both of our heads snap towards him.

"What? Tommy-" "Just go Grace, I'll be there shortly aye." He interrupted her, his eyes giving her a look that said there was no room for arguments right now. With a huff she grabbed her bag from besides the door and stormed off into the lobby.

"Tommy, I really don't think-" "So this is where you've been." He interrupted me without taking his eyes off of the door that Grace had just left through. "All this fucking time and you've been right here!" He roared making me jump slightly from the unexpected noise. "I had men looking for you! I spent months fucking looking for you!" He pointed as he spun around to face me, taking the couple of steps it took for him to be stood right infront of my desk as I looked up at him.

"Tom-" "What the fuck were you thinking?! Anything could've happened to you and I had no fucking idea where you were!" He continued to shout, his voice bouncing of the walls as his words echoed through the empty space. "You had me fucking worried sick!" He yelled as he leaned forwards and rested his palms against the desk leaning over slightly.

"You had no need to be worried!" I yelled back, standing up ignoring the loud clang that sounded as my chair fell over from the force. "You left me Tommy! Remember? You left me on what was supposed to be our wedding day!" I screeched as I leant forward placing my hands on the desk mirroring his stance. "You have no right to be worried about me! It's what you wanted isn't it? For innocent old me to be far away from you and your 'darkness of Tommy Shelby's world'!" I growled, repeating the words that Ada had told me that day, the words that repeated in my mind a hundred times a day.

"I never meant to hurt you." He spoke quietly, his tone a total 180 from what it was mere seconds ago.

"No? Well I hate to break it to you Tommy but you did, you hurt me in ways I never thought you could." My tone matched his, my words laced with nothing but heartbreak. "You hurt me like nothing had ever hurt me before." I whispered.

"It wasn't supposed to happen." He shook his head as he spoke, his eyes closed tight. "It wasn't supposed to fucking happen." He growled to himself as he pushed away from the desk pressing his hands to the side of his head.

"What wasn't supposed to happen Tom? Marrying me? Making me believe that we were about to start the rest our lives together as a happily married couple? My dream of finally becoming a Shelby? The dream that you created with all of your empty promises? Was none of it ever supposed to happen?" I seethed, my eyes watching as his back tense at my words.

"Grace!" He screamed as he turned to face me, his hands back down at his sides. "Meeting Grace was never supposed to happen!" The veins in his neck popped as his hands clenched.

"Yeah? Well it did Tommy. And you threw everything we ever had away, for her." I sighed as I shook my head, wiping away the tears that were starting to fall.

"Y/n, please, I'm so sorry." He sighed, his own voice close to breaking as the unshed tears forced in his eyes.

"It's too late for sorry's now Tom, Grace is waiting for you, you should go." I muttered, moving to stand by the window that over looked the parking, my eyes spotting Grace stood next to a black Bentley as she tapped her foot in anticipation.

"I'm sorry." His voice reached my ears.

Keeping my eyes on Grace I waited for the soft thud of the door closing to reach my ears before squeezing my eyes closed and dropping to the floor as the flood of tears poured down my face, looking up at the clock that ticked away I sat and sobbed not making any effort to wipe the tears from my face, feeling like my heart was breaking all over again.

---

I didn't see Tommy at the next meeting, or the one after that, or at all, Grace came alone with a list of instructions from Tommy, which listed what he didn't want at the wedding, all of which being the details we had at our own failed wedding. It had been six months since that first meeting where I'd seen Tommy again after three years, where my heart broke all over again and tomorrow was the big day, when Grace Burgess would officially become Grace Shelby.

Walking through the church I tried to swallow the sick that was rising in my throat, tried to ignore the stabbing pain in my chest as I went over the last of the decorations, making sure everything was in place and just the way that Grace has wanted it. She may have been marrying the man I was still in love with, the man that she'd stolen from me years prior but it was still her big day, she had won the heart of Tommy Shelby and all I could do was grin and bear it.

"Y/n!" A voice echoed through the empty church prompting me to turn and face Polly for the first time in years.

"Hi Polly." I smiled slightly, unable to ignore the tug at my heart at seeing her after all this time.

"Look at you!" She grinned as she came forwards and pulled me into her arms, my cheek resting on her shoulder as it always had done. "Where have you been girl?!" She exclaimed as we pulled away and she smacked me across the arm a few times.

"In London, making my dream come true for everyone else." I shrugged as I gestured to the intricately decorated room around us.

"Oh my poor girl, I've never forgiven him you know, none of us have for what he did to you that day." She gave me a sad smile as she rubbed my arms that she had just as assaulted. "This can't be easy for you." She sighed.

"It's fine Pol, time does wonders to fix a broken heart." I lied, flinching at the look she gave me.

"You're a terrible liar." She muttered as she reached into her purse to light a cigarette before handing one to me. "Come on, outside." She smiled linking her arm with mine and leading me down the aisle to outside.

---

"If you could please take your seats, the groom will be arriving shortly." I spoke as I stood at the front of the room watching as the two sides of the church filled with a very different dynamic. One side as full of uniforms and straight faced men while the other was full of rowdy Romani families with the Shelby's front and centre, Arthur, John and Finn being scolded by Polly for their ties being crooked or the jokes they were making about the cavalry.

All sounds stopped for a second as the doors to the church opened with Tommy appearing and making his way to his spot infront of the crowd with his head hung low, ignoring looks from both sides. As he lifted his head and his eyes met mine I could instantly tell there was something wrong, after knowing him since we were nine to spending 3 years by his side, the blank face he put on did nothing to hide the dark circles around his eyes or the fact that his face seemed skinnier, his already sharp cheekbones now sharp enough to be legally considered as a weapon.

"Tommy." I whispered as I stepped towards him, ignoring the pain in my heart as I said his name. "Are you okay?" I asked placing my hand on his arm as his eyes snapped up to mine.

"I fucked up sweetheart." He sighed as he shook his head. "I fucking fucked up." He laughed darkly to himself as he shook his head.

"What do you mean Tommy?" I asked concerned that he had done something to himself, or started some war that he couldn't finish this time.

"I-" just as he was about to speak the organ started to play as the doors to the church opened once more, stepping into the pews I took a seat besides Polly and watched as the crowd turned their heads to see Grace walking down the aisle on her fathers arm, a big smile on her face as she walked towards her future husband, even I couldn't deny the fact that she looked beautiful, her floor length purple gown like one straight from the movies, moving with her as she walked. Quickly blinking away the inevitable tears I moved to look at Tommy once again, his eyes on his future bride his eyes watching her every move, the look of love that I was expecting was nowhere to be seen, instead they was filled with a look that I remembered all to well, regret.

Everyone sat as Grace took her place besides Tommy, giving her father a chaste kiss on the cheek as he handing his daughter over to the most notorious gangster in Birmingham. As Jeremiah started his speech about love and commitment I couldn't help but catch Tommy's eyes as he looked around the crowd almost nervously, a look that I hadn't seen in his eyes since the day he asked me to marry him.

"Now, before I carry on." Jeremiah's voice pulled my attention away. "Does anyone here today know of any reason as to why these two can not be wed?" The silence that followed was unnerving, my hand squeezing Polly's as I wanted nothing more than to just up and leave, watching the wedding breaking my heart that little bit more. "Okay, well in that case, do you Grace Helen Burgess take Thomas Micheal Shelby to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" He carried on, the silence in the crowd suggesting no objections to the marriage.

"I do." Her words floated from her lips as delicately as possible, her eyes bright as she looked up at Tommy with nothing but love on her face.

"And do you, Thomas Micheal Shelby take Grace Helen Burgess to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?" My eyes flickered to the ground, focusing on one particular speck of dust as I waited for those words, those 2 words that would confirm the union.

The silence that followed and the tight squeeze that Polly gave my hand forced me to look up, briefly meeting her sparkling eyes before turning to look at the alter where Tommy was stood, staring at me.

"No." He muttered, shaking his head as he dropped his hands from Grace's. "I'm sorry Grace, but I can't marry you." His deep voice elicited gasps from both sides of the crowd.

"Oh come on, that's twice now Tom!" Arthur yelled with a booming laugh, never having liked the blonde stood next to his younger brother.

"Arthur shut it! And you!" Polly hissed towards Arthur and John who had started to laugh along.

"Tommy? What's going on?" Grace asked as she tried to take Tommys hands back in her own only for him to take a step away from her completely.

"I thought it was you, when you walked into Small Heath almost four years ago I thought you were it, that I'd been wrong for the previous three years, but no." He paused as he turned to face the crowd, eyes pinned on me. "I had the one for me the entire time, I was just too blind to see it. I should've never left you that day, I broke your heart and for that I will spend the rest of my life trying to fix it, to make it up to you in any way, shape or form you deem fit. I'll apologise, I'll beg and I'll do whatever you want from me as soon as you say the word. Please, y/n, give me one last chance." He spoke, our eyes glued to each other as though we were the only ones in the room, ignoring the gasps and the whispering that erupted on Grace's side of the church, the woman just stood staring with wide eyes, unable to believe that the exact same situation she had caused years ago had come back ten fold.

"Tommy, I." I stood up, looking down at Polly and then towards the rest of the Shelby siblings before looking back to Tommy. "I can't... I can't do this again, I can't give everything to you just for you to kick me to the curb as soon as somebody else comes along, I can't handle being broken again." My words drifted to a whisper as a lone tear dropped down my cheek.

Without missing a beat Tommy rushed towards me, pulling me out into the aisle and using his thumb to rub the pesky tear away.

"I promise you love, there is nothing on this earth that could possibly make me walk away from you again, I swear on all that I have and all I will ever have, I will never hurt you again." He whispered, not caring about the number of people that had just witnessed the fact that Tommy Shelby really had a heart. "Just one more chance." He whispered as he rested his forehead against mine, both of our eyes fluttering shut at the connection.

"One more chance Thomas Shelby, hurt me again and I swear to god that I'll kill you, that's a promise." I breathed out, opening my eyes as he pulled away from me with the biggest smile spreading across his face.

Turning to face the crowd his smile dropped as he looked towards Grace and her family. "I'm sorry, but it seems you've had a wasted trip, there will be no marriage today." He spoke without a care, taking my hand in his as he squeezed it gently.

Standing quietly I stood at Tommys side as Grace and the cavalry left the church, Grace's sobs echoing through the silent room until the doors shut, shutting out the sound with them.

"What do you say love, fancy trying this thing again aye?" Tommy smirked as he nodded over to where Jeremiah was stood watching the scene with a stunned but knowing look on his face.

I couldn't help but laugh as the rest of the shelby's family and friends cheered at the prospect.

"Slow down there Shelby, you've got some making up to do first." I laughed with a smirk as he shook his head before taking my face between his rough hands.

"It was worth a shot aye?" He smirked as he brought his lips to meet mine, the familiar butterflies that erupted taking me back to that first kiss 6 years ago.

Sorry it's so rushed! Let me know what you think and feel free to send in any requests! ❤️

#tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fic #Tommy Shelby x reader #tommy Shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders fic #thomas shelby x reader #Thomas shelby fic

637 notes · View notes

evilwickedme · 1 year

Note

Ooh, do you have any good Jason fic recs?

anon I cannot tell you how long I've been waiting to see those words!!!! yes I have good Jason fic recs in fact I have so many good Jason fic recs that after narrowing it down I still have fifteen links for you

I have read more fanfic for Jason Todd than maybe any other character ever. I do not understand the hold this man has on me but it's simply the situation we're in. anyway

Jason comes home fics

Make a Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is hands down my favorite. I'm talking favorite DC fic, top fics of all time period, not just from this list. I love this fic series. It is actively and regularly updating, thank fuck, because that little boost of serotonin is everything keeping me going I swear

The 70 Days After Groundhog Day is technically from Dick's POV, but it's about the aftermath of a timeloop that Jason was stuck in. it's. oh my god it's so good. just trust me on this one.

Emotional Motion Sickness is the "bruce goes to therapy" fic series we all want. canon get on this level

Retrograde Motion - I never used to like de-aging fics; not for any particular reason, I just never vibed with them. Recently I decided to see what all the fuss was about (bc there's so goddamn many in this fandom) and I'm glad, because I opened this fic and it's just. oh my god. the use of the de-aging trope here is truly incredible. after a whole week of dipping my feet into the trope I never need to do so again, because this fic made me fucking lose it. this is not going where you think it's going. also, for some reason there's not that much rebirth outlaws fic, and I really like what this author did with that team

matching wounds haha just gonna sneak my fic series on here and pretend that it was an accident, wait how did that get there (some jayroy later in the timeline too which can be read on its own if Jason coming home fics aren't for you)

other non-ship

Too Much Fucking Salt deals with the straw that broke the camel's back. I've read all 22k words of this in one sitting more than once. this is the anti "Jason Todd comes home" fic (this is in itself a whole genre of fic too honestly).

take his name out of your mouth (you don't deserve to mourn) is about Jason mourning himself, which he fucking deserves to. also he smokes a joint with Dick

Sown in Winter is about Jason pulling himself out of a depressive episode partially through the power of Stardew Valley. also technically jayroy, but it's honestly incidental to the story for the most part imo

JayRoy

I do read other ships for Jason but unabashedly this is my favorite, so

A Solid Resume - competency kink. that's all I have to say.

Tenderize is a series of oneshots all of which slowly build Jason and Roy's life together and coparenting lian and I just !!! could also double as a Jason coming home au but honestly that's mostly in the first fic. also a lot of discussion of various chain grocery stores in the united states that I will probably never actually step foot in

Dick Grayson and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Two to Three Weeks (But Who's Counting) is so fucking funny I die every time I reread this. there's a scene early on in a coffee shop that just. I don't even know what to say everything about this is perfect. I AM the girl sticking her nose in their business, at least spiritually.

dust devils on the horizon isn't even the only western au I've bookmarked for these two. something about jayroy and horses, man

unity of time: april 27th, 2020 is just,,,, super sad, man, idk what to tell you. it's f!jayroy, but happens after Roy died in sanctuary during the 24h of Jason's death day, so all of it is very fucking depressing. It's also fucking beautiful. I want to reread it now.

Promise After That I'll Let You Go is a poisonivory fic. I was introduced to poisonivory through the daredevil fandom earlier this year and may I tell you when I found out that this author writes for jayroy I lost my goddamn mind. this is my personal favorite, but I almost recommended at least two more aus. Their jayroy sugar daddy au is one of the only sugar daddy aus I've ever truly enjoyed. also really like the one where roy has had feelings for dick since their teen titans days but still starts a fwb thing with Jason. poisonivory can make me into kinks I'm not even into I s2g. anyway this one has lian literally dragging roy back into jason's life

finally, Reciprocation (or: Sex as Violence) shouldn't even really count as a jayroy fic but I feel weird putting it in the other category since it is sort of a jayroy fic. it's ace-aro!jason, which is one of my personal favorite interpretations of Jason (with so much textual evidence wtf), but there's still like... a lot of sex in this. Jason does not have a healthy relationship with sex in this fic. I would describe this as ending in a QPP for jayroy and lian.

honestly there's a lot of good jason and roy and lian fic out there I didn't rec cause this is already long enough

so yeah this is my very VERY pared down fic rec list for Jason Todd let me know if you want more and thank you so much for asking

#I have 632 fics bookmarked for dc and 130 of them are jayroy #most of the folder is misc and a considerable amount of that is jason focused batfam #oh I should've linked the jason and ollie fic I bookmarked ages ago. oh well I'm not looking for it now it's one thirty am #and I need to be up for work in like. six hours #jason todd #jayroy #batfam #dc #fic recs #before and after fic #gail speaks #ask #anonymous #can somebody confirm redfam is the name for jason roy and lian's dynamic I wasn't confident enough about it to put in the post itself #also it looks like radfem if you're not paying attention

216 notes · View notes

redisaid · 1 year

Text

Sad Machine

After (Part 1 of 2)

Don’t look over here. This isn’t BotW/TotK. This isn’t my only straight ship that got some sad easter eggs in the new game. This isn’t in second fucking person.

That’s a lie. It’s all a lie. Oops, this is Zelink sad introspection written in second person. I got the first line caught in my head and it spiraled.

There will be a part 2 when I finish TotK, because honey we need to talk about the [redacted]. Tiny spoilers for TotK in here, mostly regarding what you find out about Zelda in Hateno.

I promise I will get back on Blue Moon soon.

5325 Words

Read it on Ao3!

I don't know much about your life beyond these walls The fleeting sense of love within these God forsaken halls And I can hear it in his voice in every call This girl who slept a hundred years has something after all

He is all you have.

You’ve known this fact for such a long time that it resonates in your very bones. Funny, how odd it feels to have bones again. But as you stand before him, descending in a beam of light, born anew from triumph as he was, but minus the scars, all you can ask him is, “Do you really remember me?”

He seems to think about the answer for a while. Eventually, he nods.

You both know it’s a lie, but you laugh the creakiness from your lungs and you embrace him.

You held him only once before, as he lay dying in your arms. That one final failure that was too much to bear, enough to bring out the goddess in you. It still stings that this was all you could give him, a promise he would be okay, even as he slipped away, and a blinding light you still didn’t understand.

He holds you too. Whether out of attachment or relief or something else, you don’t know. You never really did, and now it is even more complicated. He held you once before too, only once, but does it count? Was this even the same Link?

You collapsed then, falling into him with bitter tears. Your friends were dead. Your father too. He was all you had left, and all you could do for him was blame yourself. Link didn’t even argue, but he held you as he cried. He didn’t say anything to assure you, but steadied you to your feet again, and held your hand as you ran and ran.

You didn’t deserve his sympathy, even then. You were so callous and cruel to him. You treated him like furniture--ugly, unwanted furniture. He was always in the room and always a reminder that you were not what you should have been. He followed you dutifully, and you just wanted to be alone.

Now you cannot imagine what will happen if he lets you go. If you let him go.

Eventually, it happens. The sun wanes and Hyrule Field smells of flowers, and there is a future to consider. Despite having fought for it with every ounce of your being, you have not considered it.

Link whistles for his horse and helps you onto her back. He rides and you do not ask where he is taking you. For once, you learn from his silence.

You cling to his waist until you reach Kakariko that night.

You sleep in Impa’s granddaughter’s bed. Or try to, at least. You have forgotten what it’s like to have a body and do not understand its needs. But you do know that the way Paya blushes at Link makes you feel something ugly that you cannot name, will not name. Before, you would very much want to name it, to research it, to pin it down and know it.

Now, you are not sure.

When you ask where Link will stay, Impa doesn’t seem concerned. He shrugs his answer.

You find him outside, sitting on her roof. The moon is full but doesn’t bleed red. You have no warning for him, no dark prophecy. He cannot sleep and neither can you. Both of you have forgotten how to rest.

He looks down at you, his eyes the same blue that could be anything, mean anything. You hated him because you never knew what he was thinking, so you assumed it was that he was better than you.

You fell in love with him after you asked him what he really thought. Why he was so silent in his vigilance.

He answered you, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. He was afraid to speak. He was afraid to show weakness. He was afraid of being anything less than what he was supposed to be.

He was just like you.

You wonder, is he still?

You break the silence between you once again. “Can’t sleep?” you ask.

He shakes his head and looks to the whiteness of the moon. He turns back to you when you have nothing else to say, and helps you climb onto the roof with him.

You think, as you lay next to him there, that you may still be the same. Different, changed, scarred in not so similar ways, but the same.

You don’t question it when you wake up in Paya’s bed again in the morning. You know how you got here. You know why it was you calmed enough to remember how to sleep. And you know the honeyed apples Impa offers you for breakfast didn’t come from her. You still remember Link’s cooking, after all.

It goes on like this for days. The Sheikah treat you with both respect and awe and like you are a sickly invalid. Impa nags you like someone’s mother, and you realize that she is twice over. Link is around. He’s always around. He is always close by, actually. But he leaves you alone.

He does remember proper etiquette, you realize. Or maybe it’s instinct. He is close enough to defend you, but not to eavesdrop. Prepared to die for you, but not to touch you. He is ready, what for you are not sure, though Impa takes note one day and says it’s a good thing, because surely the Yiga still want both of you dead.

You say nothing to him. At night, when you cannot sleep, you find him. He is not far away. He is never far away. He watches the fish swim in the pond by the Goddess statue. You sit next to him under the tree beside it, and sleep.

He hands an apple to the Korok by the frog shrines that only you two seem to be able to see. When the creature makes a gleeful sound at the gift, you laugh unbidden for the first time since you came to Kakariko. You fall asleep next to an empty offering bowl.

You dream of the day you left him, entrusting his barely breathing body to Purah. It was a challenge to carry him that far, but somehow, you managed. He was shorter than you, but heavier for the density of his muscle. His blood stained your prayer dress, drying brown as mud, but you didn’t care. You had a job to do. You understood your purpose, finally.

You entrusted his sword to the Deku Tree, and a message, knowing that it might mean very little to him when he wakes. You understood that you must both make sacrifices to do what must be done, and the fact that he might wake not knowing you is the embodiment of all of that. Then, the picture of your triumph was so clear, so certain. It was worth waiting for.

The next night, he holds you again, and after this third time, you will soon lose count.

Impa tells you that you should let the people know who you are, and rally them to rebuild your nation, your court. The thought makes you lose your appetite for the creamy carrot stew that Link made for all of you. Even Paya seems to understand the severity of your silence and excuses herself from dinner.

Impa insists, “It must be done.”

Link finds you this time, crying in Paya’s bed. You don’t know when you started crying. It feels shameful and silly, even more so to be caught. But Link has seen you do more shameful things than this.

Hating him, of course, was the worst thing you’ve ever done.

When he speaks to you, it’s still soft and low. He can speak. He does have his voice. Just as before, he mostly saves it for you. “We don’t have to,” is all he says.

You start to protest. Of course you have to. Of course you do. It is your kingdom, after all. It is what you worked to save. It lies in ruins and you sit here crying over the thought of ruling it.

But Link reminds you that it isn’t just you. “We don’t have to,” he said. Because it would be you and him. Him guarding you as you sat in the ruins of your father’s throne.

But he is all you have.

“We have to,” you insist.

Link shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He leaves a note for Impa in messy handwriting you can’t recall having seen before. You usually did the writing, the communicating. Tonight, he does it for you.

He does a lot for you. Has done a lot for you.

You ride on Link’s horse, clinging again to his waist, under the waning moon. He takes you up, up, into the hills. To Hateno.

You arrive in the morning and no one seems to know who you are or particularly care. A little boy runs up to Link and asks him to show him his sword. A farmer waves to him. The woman outside of the general store asks him if he needs anything. An odd young man stares at you, but then goes to Link and mumbles a thank you to him for a favor he dares not name.

Link waves them off. He responds, quiet and polite, but clearly trying to get them to leave. He guides the horse as you sit atop it. You feel funny, out of place in a time where people do not remember you, or understand what you have done for them, gleaming white in your prayer gown, unstained as the moon.

You need different clothes.

He brings you to a house you recognize. Link himself never volunteered this information, of course, but another guard pointed out that he lived there as a boy, once, before his family moved to the castle to serve there.

You wonder if he remembers.

The house is small. The house is old. Link stables the mare and you wait for him outside. He opens the door for you, but lets you go in first.

It is a simple cottage, lined with treasures untold. Mipha’s trident. Revali’s bow. Daruk’s hammer. But it’s Urbosa’s sword and shield that bring you to tears.

That, and the fact that the table is set for two.

Link holds you again and says nothing. This is where you lose count.

He lets you go after a while, and goes outside. He comes back with a simple rice bowl topped with salted meat, and you eat it at the place he’s kept for you. You don’t ask him if he remembers this house. You’re pretty sure he doesn’t. But he remembers your favorite comfort food.

You tell him you need new clothes. He nods and keeps eating.

There’s only one bed, you discover later on. But you do like the sturdy writing desk in the loft, and the framed picture you remember taking with your friends, your Champions. Only you and Link remain.

He is all you have.

You are tired from riding all night. Your body begs you to rest. Your mind knows that Link has given you an opportunity to do so that Impa would not.

Still, you protest, “I can’t take your bed.”

He shakes his head, then realizes he’s going to have to speak to get his message across, “It’s okay.”

“Where will you sleep?”

He shrugs an answer.

You think, maybe, that the place setting was not for you. You think, maybe, that Link didn’t plan for the future either. You think, maybe, that neither of you knows how to live happily ever after.

“You’re not going to take no for an answer, I see?” you half ask, half conclude.

Link nods.

The sheets smell like him. You lay down and give up. He’s never asked you for anything, and now he only asks you to rest where he knows it is quiet and safe.

You let him walk away. One step. Two. The third is unbearable.

You reach for his hand, and pull him back.

You do not name what you feel when he lays beside you, when he holds you again. This time, you do not cry, but in addition to that nameless feeling, there is a weariness and a grief that is beyond tears. You feel it in him too, in the way he breathes shaking breaths into your shoulder.

You sleep into the evening. The sun is red as the moon once was when you wake. Link is gone, but he’s close by. You can hear him humming as he cooks outside.

There are new clothes folded on the foot of the bed. You change into them. The trousers are too short for you, but otherwise fit fine. The tunic is soft, but baggy in the shoulders. When Link returns with meat skewers and fruit cake, you realize these are his pants. His clothes. His house. His food. His bed.

He is all you have.

You don’t mind it. Neither does he. He won’t tell you that, of course, but you know.

A part of you feels you should be ashamed. But you’re not.

You are too tired for that.

“Did you sleep too?” you ask Link over a bite of cake.

He nods.

“We’ll both use the bed,” you offer as your royal decree.

He nods again.

You sleep beside him for a week before you ask him to cut your hair. You don’t have anyone else to ask, and he won’t say no. He won’t ask why you feel an overwhelming need to do this.

You feel like you’re treating him like furniture again for a moment, but realize that you would never trust furniture with this.

Only Link.

He cuts your hair with the Master Sword. When you ask him why, he actually answers.

“It stays sharp,” is his reason.

He slays your hair like it’s an ancient evil. You feel cleansed and light, sitting backwards on a chair outside the house, amongst the flowers. You watch the blonde strands blow away in the wind.

“Cut it shorter,” you tell him.

He does.

Your hair is shorter than his now, and you love it.

You comb his out that evening, untangling it from a worn blue tie. It is still wild and ragged, loose over his shoulders. You put the tie in the pocket of the pants you took from him, and ask him if he has another one, as this one is well past its prime. He does, and you tie it up neatly for him again.

His heart beats you to sleep.

You wake in the morning to a letter from Impa, saying that she and Purah will visit tomorrow. The boy who delivers it to you has no idea who these people are, what they have done, what they have sacrificed. Neither does he for you and Link.

But he is nosy enough to ask, “Who is your friend, Link?”

Link looks at you to answer, sitting at his kitchen table, with your short hair and borrowed clothes.

You don’t know the answer yourself.

So just, “Zelda,” must suffice.

The youth is content with that answer, knowing not what the name means, what fate it decided for you.

Link watches you as you read the letter. He reads your face to know what it says, but you tell him anyway.

“I can tell them to go. Tell them you’re sick,” he offers, in his quiet way.

You’re the one that shakes your head this time. “No,” you add, “I’m all right. It has to be done.”

Link should nod but he doesn’t. He just looks at you and understands. He knows. You know. Both of you are used to doing the right thing, even if you do not want to.

You know now that you do not want to be Hyrule’s Queen. You want to sit in Link’s house and eat his food and brush his hair and listen to him hum. You want the children only to know you as Zelda and nothing else. You want to watch people thank Link for saving their chickens, not knowing that he’s saved them all from something far worse than a loss of poultry.

But you also know that you don’t get to have the things that you want. Not now, not always. You know, though, that you can carve out spaces for them, times and places.

You can start to rule your kingdom from Link’s bed, still, soothed to sleep by his breathing.

Purah is a child and Impa is ancient, and they are both about as old as you, even though you still look seventeen. Somehow, this makes sense. Purah hugs you with her tiny arms, but then clings to Link’s legs until he gives her a pose and a little laugh.

They bring you clothes that look like yours from before, but are newly made. All royal blue and royal seals and triforces and fine tailoring. You don’t want them, and prefer how Link’s pants stop just short of your ankles, and how his tunics are loose around your shoulders.

They have tea at the table and say nothing about the two place settings and the one bed. Link makes them risotto, Purah’s favorite. Purah plans and Impa nods along. You are as silent as Link as you drink your tea and listen to them.

“Nothing to say, Princess?” Impa asks after a while. “You’ve been with Link too long. Where are your words?”

It takes you weeks to find them.

Hateno is thriving, so far away and so little affected by the Calamity. You venture out into the fields, walk along the creeks and ponds. You watch the windmills spin. You pet a friendly cow. When anyone asks who you are, your answer is just “Zelda, a friend of Link’s” and there are no further questions. Link is trustworthy, and has proven himself thus. You are assumed to be the same.

One day, you are feeling up to the general store. Link gives you rupees, and you try not to think how strange it is to be taking money from him, or why money is where you mind draws the line when you wear his clothes, sleep in his bed, and eat his food.

But you take his rupees anyway, and you walk to the general store. You buy rice and milk, and you ask the clerk where the children go to school.

There is no school. There is no education. There is no history or science. The man at the counter tells you he taught his children to read and write and add and subtract and how to run the shop.

“That’s all they need to know,” he tells you.

“But there’s so much more,” you say.

You find your words, telling Link that the state of education in this town is unacceptable and must be corrected. You plan. You ask questions. He nods and whispers answers. Eventually, he smiles at you.

“What?” you ask him.

He shakes his head.

You keep talking, even in bed. You don’t remember falling asleep. The next morning, the contractor Link told you about is waiting for you downstairs. Link makes him tea and a fruit pie. Probably also his favorite.

You spend the day designing the village school with him, while Link is not so far away, easily being heard chopping wood, catching frogs in the pond, and making a spicy curry for lunch--his favorite, you remember. He laughs when Bolson can’t handle the spice despite best efforts, and steams a nice, mild fish for him instead.

You are proud to say you can handle Link’s spicy curry just fine. You remember the last time he made it for you, when you were going up to Mount Laynaru in your thin prayer dress. He didn’t want you to be cold.

He is all you have.

You find his hair tie in your pocket when you do laundry in the pond. You don’t know how to do laundry, but you can figure it out. Link probably knows and would do it for you if you asked him or even if you didn’t, but he’s been asked to run something up to the lab for Purah, and you wanted to try to do something for yourself. So you sit with your bar of soap and let your legs dangle in the water as you scrub.

You keep the hair tie and find another place to hide it. He knows you took it, so it seems silly, but you hide it anyway.

The children know you only as Zelda. They don’t know what a school is, but you try to explain it to them. You try to tell them it is an exciting thing, to learn, to know more.

They don’t like the prospect of sitting inside for hours on end, but their parents seem appreciative of the project.

Purah visits weekly to talk about big plans and eat a bowl of risotto. One day, she knocks at the door and is not a child anymore. Nor is she an old woman. She looks about the same as she did before the Calamity, but maybe a touch older. When you ask how she managed that, she merely says it’s too complicated to explain and talks about building towns and towers and technology and how to make Hyrule a kingdom again.

She talks about moving on. She asks where you will go next.

There are many places you will go, but you know you want to come back here. So you don’t answer her, because that’s more complicated than however she managed to manipulate her age.

You, Purah, and Link are all right around one hundred and seventeen years old, sitting around your table. You’re all too young to buy a bottle of wine, but too old. You joke to Purah that she should have added a few more years for that purpose alone. She looks at you funny when you laugh, but agrees.

She has Symin bring you a bottle of wine the next day. You don’t even want it and Link shrugs, laughing as he mutters something about Gerudo Town. You get him to tell you stories, sometimes, of things you already know. Things you watched him do. Moments where you entertained yourself with his freedom in your imprisonment.

He was all you had, after all.

Link isn’t all you have, not anymore. But when you agree to go to the ruins of Castle Town and try to plan out a restoration project with the Sheikah, the understanding that he is coming with you is unspoken and unnecessary. Of course he is.

On the way there, you catch a beautiful golden mare for yourself, with his coaching. The thrill of riding her is incomparable, even after you’ve saved the world. But you miss your arms around Link’s waist all the same. But he grins as you ride beside him, confident and sure in your ability to keep your mount steady, as he’s now taught you to be.

Robbie meets you with the others in the ruins. He likes your hair. He’s sad that the Guardians and Shrines and other tech faded away when the Calamity was defeated, apparently no longer needed now that their intended purpose was fulfilled.

Link looks to the distant mountains in the four corners of Hyrule as he says this. You look with him, finding them empty. Your friends are well and truly gone. Their purpose too, was fulfilled.

And still, you and he are left. Only the old Sheikah remember you, and apparently some of the Zora. That’s it. That’s all.

Link is upset. You know this, despite the lack of expression in his face.

That night, you were meant to sleep in separate tents the Sheikah set up for you, but you crawl into Link’s bedroll once everyone else is asleep. You lay silently with him, and know that you’re the one holding him now.

It is the least you can do. After all, you are all he has.

You go other places. Do other things. See other people. Link, as always, goes with you.

You meet the Zora. Sidon is massive now, charming and almost insistently positive. He pulls both of you into a bone-crushing hug. He goes on and on, telling you how Link saved his people, telling you things you already know, like how amazing he is.

You meet the Rito. Their lives are short and harsh and they do not know you. Even their elder does not remember. But Teba is kind and his son is adorable. You watch with the boy as Link and Teba shoot targets at the snowy Flight Range, and little Tulin tells you that one day, he hopes to be just as fierce a warrior as the two of them.

You meet the Gorons. Link makes you drink a bitter-tasting elixir made from lizards. He laughs and mutters it’s payback from making him eat a frog. But it keeps you safe from the boiling temperatures. You barely pay attention to Yunobo because you’re happy that Link remembered the frog.

You meet the Gerudo. Riju is wonderful, a young and bright shining star. She makes you miss Urbosa so much. They agree to meet you at the Oasis so Link can come along. Riju teases him about how he made it into Gerudo Town to meet her. You tease him on the ride out of the desert that he would make a lovely vai. Link bats his eyelashes at you.

He’s funny, even when he doesn’t talk.

He wasn’t very funny before. But you liked serious Link. And you like funny Link.

He shows you the Gerudo outfit when you get home to Hateno. You laugh and he laughs and he does a little dance. You try it on and he says it fits you better. You argue the opposite.

When you go to bed, you lay your head on his chest and realize that you thought of this place as home.

You were glad to be home.

You are glad it’s with him.

Link is braiding your horse’s mane for you when the mayor comes to chat. Purah told him who you are, that rat. He’s honored to have you here. He agrees to let the children still think you are just Ms. Zelda, the woman who so desperately wants to be their teacher. The school is nearly finished, after all.

But he compliments your house.

It’s Link’s house, but you don’t tell him. Because it’s your home and this is confusing. You don’t want to know the word for what you feel and don’t want to define it.

Purah left for her new town outside of the remains of your castle. Symin has been relegated to the role of teacher with you, but seems happy with the job. Anything is better than babysitting Purah, after all. Impa leaves you alone, so long as she knows that you are willing to try.

You want to pretend Link is all you have, just a little while longer.

So you don’t correct the mayor. Sure, it’s your house.

Link doesn’t object.

You love that Link is always around, but sometimes, still, you want to be alone. You want an excuse not to look at him, to study and plan and do the things you’re supposed to be doing.

You ask Bolson to build you a room in the well, so you can think.

You laugh when you find that the frogs have moved in with you.

Link knows about the well. He never goes in. He knows you do. He knows you need a place of your own. Before, it was your study in the castle. Even then, when he was assigned to guard you there, honor-bound, he stood outside the door.

You tinker with things down there. Sometimes it’s trying to replicate ancient Sheikah tech. Sometimes it’s making armor and pouches for Link. Sometimes it’s just reading while playing with his hair tie.

Most of the time, you come up because you miss him.

The first day of school is as chaotic as you thought it would be and more. Symin has the children surprise you with pictures they’ve drawn. When you get home, you show Link one where he is following you, as he always does, and how the child drew him waving, as he always does to the kids.

You talk about the kids over dinner. You talk and talk and talk, as you once did. You feel fuller than you’ve felt in a very long time, and not because of the spread of fruit cake and rice bowls and curry and your new favorite mushroom skewers that Link made for you, though that all helps.

You feel like you’re doing something. Like you’re earning the title of Princess. Not in a destined and divine way, but in a way that matters to people. In a way that they can recognize you for, when you are ready to let them, that is.

You help Link wash the dishes. You insist on helping. When the thought crosses your mind, as you lean over to him to reach for a towel, that you should kiss his cheek, you don’t hesitate. You give into it immediately.

He looks stunned only for a moment. A flush creeps into the cheek you kissed, and doubtless too into the one you can’t see. But you’re the one who broke the barrier. You granted the permission, so Link can break his decorum, or what remains of it.

He holds you again, so many times you’ve lost count, and he kisses you. You don’t talk anymore that night, as you’ve found a better use for your lips, but you still feel just as full, bursting even.

The years pass, Link keeps your hair short and you keep his from being too wild. You finally feel like wearing your own clothes. You learn to accept that most everyone knows who you are now, and that they love you for that. No one says anything about the two place settings and the one bed in what they now call your house, or how the world is calmer now and you don’t need a bodyguard, but Link is always with you. No one asks what happens in Ms. Zelda’s house, in the one bed, when two people live there. Not even Purah.

You assume Impa must think Link sleeps on the floor every night.

You don’t put a name to what you feel for him because some things don’t need names. They don’t need defining. You understand what this is and so does Link. There isn’t a word worthy of it in any language you know. Besides, Link doesn’t like words. He doesn’t need them.

And in this rare case, neither do you.

In the depths below the castle, Link listens to you talk about the Zonai. He holds the torch for you while you search for your Purah Pad to capture the images that surround you both. You can see this place puts him on edge, but your excitement mostly blinds you. This world has been so wonderful to live in again. Together, the two of you can fix this. You can do anything together.

You don’t understand what you find at the passage’s end. It all happens so quickly. The mummified corpse that knew your names. The strange hand. The crumbling ruins.

When he reaches for you, you are reminded of a fact you’ve nearly forgotten after these last few years.

Link is really all you have.

And this time, he could not reach you.

He could only watch you fall. Down, down, down. Then disappear in a flash of light.

#zelda #botw #totk #tears of the kingdom #zelink #fanfic #when you and your bodyguard develop a weird codependent relationship after surviving the apocalypse #but at least it's really cute

44 notes · View notes

kdramacrybaby · 9 months

Text

Hidden Love (2023)

Genre: Romance, Comedy, Youth

Synopsis: As a young girl, Sang Zhi falls in love with her older brother’s best friend Duan JiaXu. Oblivious to her feelings, he treats her as nothing more than a sister, and eventually, Sang Zhi realizes she has to give up on her feelings after getting hurt too many times. Years later, Sang Zhi now a legal adult, the two meet again, and old feelings start to resurface for Sang Zhi, who desperately tries (and fails) to push them back. This time, though, she might not be the only one catching feelings.

Episode info: 25 episodes / Runtime around 45 minutes

Lead cast: Zhao Lu Si (Sang Zhi), Chen Zhe Yuan (Duan JiaXu), Victor Ma (Sang Yan)

Link to watch: You can watch on Netflix for Dramacool

Drama rec masterlist | Drama rant thread (beware of spoilers)

(I watched this while on my exercise bike, so that’s why there’s no drama rant for this drama (but I would have been absolutely freaking out if there was one)).

The first thing I want to address is the age gap between the characters, something I was very wary about when first starting out the drama - I think using a younger actress in the first few episodes while still using the same male lead made it a lot worse than it actually was too - but it still took a little convincing to root for this couple. Which is also why I didn’t really take the drama that seriously at first, it was just something Netflix had recommended and a drama that could be sort of cute to watch while I got some exercise.

I want to refer to this post by teaandsojupod, because I think they really made a great point. Yes there is an age difference that might make some people raise an eyebrow, but that is the point and the drama is well aware of this fact. It is addressed multiple times throughout the drama - both the lead characters have their own thoughts and worries about the age gap, and they discuss this with their friends and family. Nothing is done without thought and care, and they both take their time to reflect on their feelings for the other before making a move.

What I love the most about their relationship, is how they always take the time to communicate their thoughts and feelings to the other, so there is no room for misunderstandings. They never hide their worries from each other - and even if they try to because they don’t want to worry the other, they know each other so well that they notice immediately and support each other through it. They protect each other in their own way and I love to see it. This is everything I want to see in a healthy romance and more. And the actors have amazing chemistry.

Other than the fantastic romance, I want to list a couple of points that only made the drama even better:

The sibling energy between Sang Zhi and her big brother is everything

The friendships in this drama are everything

The actors are all phenomenal

The writing / story is actually good and feels natural

I really did not expect to like this drama as much as I did, but it just made me smile so much, and I even ended up binging the last couple of episodes off the bike because I couldn’t wait to see how it ended.

This is a drama that I will definitely be comparing future romance dramas to in terms of how much I like the couple. We don’t need every male lead to be a rich prince on a white horse, sometimes they can be just a normal dude with normal real-life struggles.

Yes, there are some things they maybe gloss over a little bit (some b-plot with Sang Zhi’s friends, how the whole thing with Jiaxu’s past got resolved, Sang-zhi’s parents), but I really don’t think it takes away that much from the central story.

Highly recommended watch!

#hidden love #cdrama review #cdrama rec #cdrama

24 notes · View notes

benwvatt · 1 year

Text

my recent kataang fics!

hi! I’ve written a few kataang stories recently and would love to share them. AO3 links included! And there are more fics under the “read more.”

my darling, how long do you want to be loved? is forever enough? is a rated-G oneshot about the two of them bonding over Katara’s pregnancy.

Katara laughs and buries her head in the crook of Aang’s neck. In bed, he’s been tracing lazy figure eights across the small of her back. “How did we get here?”

“Well, we left the Earth King’s party after thirty-seven minutes-”

Still laughing. Aang can feel her head shake against his chest, like a magnolia raining leaves in a storm. He wants to close his eyes as long as possible and memorize the ebbs and flows of her joy, the imprints it makes in the air.

“Oh, right! And we stole dumplings,” Katara adds gently, “wrapped in napkins in my purse! I’ll never get the grease stains out.” If only oil and water were similar, she could lift the marks with a swish of her hand.

“I guess you’ll just have to use regular ol’ soap and water. Like a peasant.”

“Like a fool!”

in reverence, my cup runneth over for you is a rated-T one-shot about Katara and Aang dancing in their kitchen.

They will raise children here someday. Aang wants a daughter with whom to dance in the kitchen. Together they will shift, clumsy under skeins of moonlight; he’ll toddle around, practicing steps by letting their girl stand on his feet. She will teach him the extra-extra-cool dance moves, picked up from magazines or some technology not yet invented, because grown-ups simply don’t understand.

Aang kisses Katara. Oh, she is going to be the rest of his life. The sheer notion of this runs through his mind like a horse unbridled.

“I love the kitchen,” she finally murmurs, hugging him closer. “No need to worry, not with me.”

He already knew, but a reminder never hurts.

He talks to her about the wilder dreams (not wildest, for those have already come true) and they waltz over dusty floorboards that leave speckles on the bottoms of their shoes. The kitchen will be furnished another time. Tonight is for dancing.

you’ve got me more than clumsy, but you’re my yellow lovely is a fluffy rated-G oneshot about Katara taking care of Aang while he’s sick.

“Honey,” Aang murmurs, two full syllables this time. Voicing anything hurts at the moment 一 he’s taken ill this week 一 but he has to catch her attention. “Katara.”

She groans. “Yeah?”

“You gotta go. I - I’m gonna get you sick if you stay any longer.”

Her head shakes ‘nope’ and Aang can feel the brush of her hair against his neck. You could hear a pin drop. Even the crickets have ceased chirping tonight.

“I’m not fun to be around.”

“That’s a lie,” she whispers. “Can I kiss you?” He’s been trying not to get her sick all week, and she ought to ask before moving any closer.

“I miss you.” Aang wraps his arms around her and leans in. “I don’t think I should kiss you. Germs. Disease. Y’know, plague and death.”

“How did we get to death?”

i’d paint a river of stars for you (cross the ocean sapphire blue) is a romantic AU about Kataang getting together in the South Pole, set in a world where the war never happened and Aang routinely visits Katara and he’s super in love with her. Rated T!

Aang looks down at her hand. She’s still wearing the friendship bracelet he wove for her out of linengrass.

He wants, not for the first time, to press his hand to her face and kiss her. He wonders if her cheeks would be cold against his. Hasn’t ever been close enough to check. Aang moves his thumb an inch until it’s over hers.

He looks at her. Is this okay?

Moonbeams wash into the bedroom through the ice. She might be blushing but he can’t quite tell.

Do you want this? Do you want me? he tries to communicate with his gaze. He was never very good at this. Monks are taught to let go of desire, not harbor it deep inside.

when the ice forgives is an AU in the works. In which, post-series, Kya is discovered sleeping in an iceberg and Katara’s whole family bond over the discovery that she’s alive. Katara & Aang are also engaged in this story and they’re very sweet.

“Were you preparing something in the kitchen?” Aang asked. He’d slept in, and he was hungry.

“I… might have been.” She pursed her lips for a moment, then let the grin wash away any hint of neutrality on her face. “Okay, there’s some baozi. And I was wondering if you wanted to eat hot pot for lunch? That was, uh, the noise you heard.”

She was so comforting. Everything about it, from her culinary plans to her one morning cup of tea, stolen from him, was predictable. He loved her. He told her, and they curled into the bed. Katara laid down, absentmindedly stroking her thumb across Aang’s cheekbone, and reminded him he was a sap. An honest, lovable one, but still.

“I like you,” she whispered. The words hung in the white, almost silver, morning light. They were predictable too, and Aang couldn’t get enough of them. “I like you very much.”

He kept his gaze on her and ran his thumb over the curve of her eyebrow, down her cheek until he was tracing her bottom lip. “You’re so…” and he kissed her before saying, “special. I didn’t think I could meet somebody like you. Someone so uncommonly kind.”

#kataang #kataangtag #katara #aang #aang x katara #katara x aang #atla #atla fanfic #kataang fanfic #kataang fic #benwvatt

65 notes · View notes

peakyscillian · 1 year

Text

Wild Horses | Modern!Tommy One Shot

Summary: Using the prompt "I promise it's a nice thing. just close your eyes and don't cheat!" Warnings: Fluff! Pairing: Modern!Tommy x Fem!Reader Requested: Yes! by the lovely Liv (@gypsy-girl-08) for my 1.5k Celebration which you can join in with or request a prompt from! Thank you so much for the request Liv, here's my gift to you for being so supportive from almost the start of my wild Peaky community journey! ily! Notes - Thank you @heidimoreton for the gif!

Masterlist | 1.5k Celebration

Wild Horses.

You were sat outside the office block, waiting for Tommy to appear, he'd told you fifteen minutes ago he was on his way. He was impossible always working, you only needed him for the afternoon.

He'd promised you he'd been done by the time you arrived to get him, you'd somehow managed to keep a secret from him, with a lot of hushed phone calls to the family and late night emails.

You knew he was avoiding coming down to the car, he hated surprises, picking up your phone you dialled his number.

"I'm coming darling, I'm coming" he voice drawled down the line, you rolled your eyes hanging up without a word.

'Is he on his way down? x' you text your brother in-law for some support, 'putting him in the lift as we speak x' Arthur's response flew back.

You flicked the end of your cigarette out of the window, Tommy was leaving his office, you'd told him to take a change of clothes, be in something more casual, but, no here he was in his full suit slipping into the passenger seat of your car.

He lent across the centre console, pressing a kiss to your cheek "hello darling" he smiled.

You turned your head to catch his lips, letting yourself get carried away, as your phone buzzed.

You grabbed it quickly so he wouldn't see, turning to start the engine "I hate not knowing, you know that" he grumbled, throwing himself back into the seat like a spoilt child.

You laughed lightly "I promise it's a nice thing. just close your eyes and don't cheat!" you squeezed his knee, pulling out of the parking space.

You somehow convinced Tommy to put on the blindfold, one you'd whipped out of the box kept in the wardrobe, he'd never let you use it on him before.

"Don't think we'll do this in the bedroom again, it's not that nice is it?" he groaned, you bit at your lips holding in the small giggle "I don't know Tom, I enjoy it" you admitted.

You could sense the smirk on his lips, keeping your eyes on the road "then we will continue" he laughed.

You made the familiar turning into Charlie's Yard, he'd helped you plan almost all of this surprise, you checked the text on your phone from him.

'All sorted, third stable, set up. Curly out of the way he can't keep a secret'

You got out of the car, making your way round to the passenger side, helping Tommy out, guiding him across the cobbles to the large gates.

"Why are we at Charlies Yard?" he asked, you stopped trying to see where he had managed to sneak a peak from the blindford.

"The smell, its the smell of Charlie's Yard I haven't looked" he confirmed, you huffed of course he knew this place by just the smell, he'd spent nearly all his life here.

You stood behind him, standing on tiptoes to unknot the blindfold "Keep your eyes closed, Thomas" you giggled, making your way back round to his side.

Linking your fingers through his "Open" you whispered, so giddy with excitement.

You watched him as his eyes finally fell on the majestic black horse, he turned to you mouth agape with shock "You didn't?" he asked, stepping forward slowly towards the horse.

Tommy was always dreaming about owning a horse again, he'd grown up riding but moving into the City to launch the business meant he left his horses in Curly's care.

He turned to you, a beaming smile on his face, you moved towards him watching as he spoke softly to the horse, "She's called Gypsy Eve" you handed him the paperwork.

Tommy nodded his free arm wrapped round your waist pulling you into his side, "have you ever been on a horse?" he asked, you looked up at the towering animal "never, they frighten me" you admitted.

Tommy smiled at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek "We can ride together"

You gave him a look, "don't start you little tease" he hummed with an amused smirk, "I do like riding sometimes" you quipped as he pressed his fingers to your side, making you squirm at the sensation.

"Lets go for a ride" he declared, shrugging off his suit jacket, "what kind?" you asked, he shook his head walking to the side of the horse, patting her on the back.

"later for the other kind of ride, eh?" he cupped at your jaw letting his lips slide across yours momentarily.

"Is that a promise?" you asked, fingers dancing in the shaved side of his hair "Of course, when have I ever let you down"

Taglist

@cillmequick @runnning-outof-time @look-at-the-soul @gypsy-girl-08 @zablife @forgottenpeakywriter @cillixn @heidimoreton @thomasshelbee @queenshelby @missymurphy1985 @cloudofdisney @allie131313 @vhscillian @radioheadgirl @being-worthy @elenavampire21 @datewithgianni @magicalpieex @midnightmagpiemama @shelbydelrey @janelongxox @camilleholland89 @cilliansangel @uchihacumdump @inkandpen22 @lovemissyhoneybee @ysmmsy @lyarr24 @anotherhitandrun @alreadybroken-ts @flyingjosephine-blog @moral-turpitudes @lostgirl219 @duckybird101 @blyanyan @flippittygibbitts

103 notes · View notes

echantedtoon · 2 months

Text

Love Is Blind Ch3 Not What It Seems

(WARNINGS: Mentioning of death, Mentioning of someone taking their own life, Kagaya being sick and having scars, and mentioning of him being burnt in a fire.

pic of Y/n above was edited by me. IMPORTANT THO!! This is NOT what Y/n looks like except for the white hair. I just wanted to make one of these picture edits for fun. Art not mine, found on Pinterest, credit to original artist, etc. The wisteria gate pic isn't mine either and was found on Google. If you need visuals on the wysteria gate and the garden they look exactly like the links below only that Kagaya's garden has WAY more flowers than cannon.

Wysteria gate

Kagaya's garden

https://www.ign.com/wikis/demon-slayer-the-hinokami-chronicles/Chapter_3_-_Death_Match_in_Asakusa )

CLIP. CLOP. CLIP. CLOP. CLIP. CLOP.

The sounds of a beautiful black stallion's hooves walked across the old dirt paths leading down the land and through the forests. Of course having walked along this road so many times, the mighty horse was already familiar with roads. A snort escaped from his snout before he shook his mane out from an itch.

"Easy boy. Just ignore the beast and keep going."

The driver of a sturdy cart ordered the horse giving a firm and hard slap of the reigns making the stallion snort once again but got it to ignore the fox that scurried across the road in front of it. The sly red canine stopped in the treeline and looked at them before turning away to quickly scurry into the forest.

"Pretty thing. If I brought my crossbow I could've gotten a good pelt for a muff."

"Let's leave it alone, Papa." A head of white hair shined in the sunlight as f/c eyes looked at where the pretty fox disappeared. "Something as beautiful as that deserves to live free."

The older man smiled at his daughter's beauty and kindness. "I agree. That's why we're going there. You deserve to have such freedom without someone trying to stubbornly take that away from you."

You turned to him smiling widely and sweetly at him. "I'm sure everything will be fine, Papa. It's just a small visit to clear up a misunderstanding. That's all."

Your father hummed again before whipping the reigns to make the stallion trot faster. "Your mother nearly ripped me a new one when we suggested this idea. I'm still surprised that I managed to convince her to let you come-"

"I heard that!" Your mother glared at him as he chuckled before crossing her arms. "I only agreed to it on the basis that we all go with her! There's absolutely no way I'm allowing my daughter to visit these strangers all by herself! Plus I'd like to give these Ubuyashikis a piece of my mind!"

"Now, Dear." Your father gave your mother a rare stern look. "Remember what we talked about. We're going to be polite AND civil about this. If there is a reason for stern talking then I'll let you know but unless that happens I WILL do the negotiations."

His wife huffed before crossing her arms with a pout. "Fine! But we're leaving at the first sign of trouble!"

You only shook your head from the back of the cart before leaning back against the wooded side and looked out as you all passed a beautiful field of flowers. It had been nearly two weeks of this kind of travel and during the entire time it had been beautiful and peaceful aside from your mother's occasional angry spouts but otherwise pleasant. In truth getting her to agree to your idea hadn't been easy as he DEMANDED you not go anywhere near the Ubuyashiki estate but in a rare stern tone your father had put his foot town.

"Our daughter is going to be twenty next year! She won't be a teenager anymore besides she's already a grown woman. Not a child. If she decides to go see this family then we can't stop her. I'm going with her anyways so there won't be any danger. There will be no more arguments."

Your mother had no choice but to agree but insisted on coming. Not wanting another argument your father agreed but only on the conditions that she wouldn't have any arguments when there. With all these things settled, your mother had gotten your older cousin to house sit while your entire family was gone and your father had talked his boss into giving him this extra route again as an excuse to make this detour. Now here you three were traveling through places you've never been before. This was both exciting and nerve-racking to say the least. The sun was high in the sky as the beautiful trees waved in the wind and the scent of wild flowers filled the cooking breeze. It made you smile and stretch your arms out. Even if you don't marry, the beautiful sights was making this trip all the worthwhile. Your father mentioned that the pathway to the estate was closer now and you should be there by tomorrow hopefully.

The sun slowly went across the beautiful skies. Your eyes watching safely from the back of the cart until they felt heavy, and closed against their will before the moon could bless them with her presence.

Purple

The overarching flowers outstretched their petals looming overhead as arms getting ready to embrace the people below in their soft petals falling down from above as shining gifts from the heavenly tops of the trees. It was a blessed sight to wake up to once F/c orbs awoken hearing a gasp of another woman wake up and then a voice speak.

"It's so beautiful. I feel like we're approaching heaven."

It was like heaven. Staring up at nothing but beautiful wisteria blooms hanging down from the air as leaves blocked out most of the rest of the light but still patches of that beautiful sun flowed down in small splotches peeling through the trees and their heavenly flowers like shy mice. The aroma of the flowers filling this forest right out of a fairytale and the small animals running amongst the flora only added to that heavenly fairytale image. You spotted a mother deer and her two young fawns chewing on the delicate buds of the new spring grass. The beautiful mother looked briefly at the cart passing by before turning away to put attention on her children. A flurry of sparrows passed by the trees and f/c eyes smiled up following them.

"This is absolutely beautiful. It's like something out of a dream."

"This is part of the Ubuyashiki territory." Your father gestured all around the woods smiling. "All of this? They own every tree in it. In fact they own a huge chunk of this mountain. I heard it's been in the family for the past ninety five generations."

"That certainly is...a lot of territory to own." Your mother hummed with a deep thoughtful expression on her face.

"A lot of territory? Honey, these people own the entire town just on the other side of the estate! I go past it just to get to the city. If you don't know better, you'd mistake the big town for the city."

"Oh really?... That's a lot of revenue."

The cart still pulled past the forest down an old path as you looked around in awe. Everything looked so beautiful and birds were singing in the spring air. So heavenly. Unbeknownst to you and your mother, your father had continued traveling through the night turning his horse onto an almost hidden path leading deep into mountain forest and when you both had awakened, you had woken up to the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen.

"We're not too far away now. We didn't give them any notice we'd be coming so they'll certainly be surprised."

"Hmph. We're making the effort to come all the way out here so the least they can do is be grateful that we actually came here to answer them!"

Your father didn't comment on your mother's tone but did also the reigns making the horse pick up his pace trotting down the old pathway. Deeper and deeper and deeper into the forest you all went. The more wysteria trees clustered around until they seemed to be the only trees in the forest. Down the pathway farther and farther until they reached a small semi clearing at the end of the pathway. The driver had the horse turn around in the clearing and started back up the path you came before pulling it back to a full stop next to a small tree with the horse facing back the way you came. Without uttering a word your father got up and jumped from the wagon, taking a minute to tie the reigns around one of the trees branches to keep the stallion from wondering off before giving the horse a few pats.

"We're here," he said turning back to you before looking past you making you blink and turn to see what he was looking at.

Another pathway lead from the original path leading away from you and towards the right side of the original path. But instead of dirt, this one was made of cobblestone and cut brick. A flight of stairs lead from the path up the hill and stopped to continue on in a normal pathway again starting under a giant wooden archway. Wysteria petals decorated the old stairs like some makeshift nature carpet and more scattered with the wind. You stared at it before a thud made you turn your head just as your father set your mother down from helping her out of the cart. You slowly stood up as he also reached out to you

"Maybe you two should stay with the cart and let me handle this." He gently grabbed your sides before heaving you up and out of the cart before placing you down on the ground. "I'm sure I can handle it from here."

"No. I came all the way here to see him and if I don't show up they'll just send me another letter wanting to hear from me. We might as well go and clear everything up now." Your nodded firmly nodded in agreement.

Your father sighed before reaching in the back of the wagon and pulling out a small box the size of three regular books across and five inches high. He tucked it under one arm before turning towards the stairs. "Alright then. Let's go settle this. Just both of you stay close to me. And remember..." He gave your mother a firm look. "I WILL do the talking."

Your footsteps echoed throughout the peaceful forest as the three of you climbed up the stairs towards the wooden archway above. Your father carrying the box under his arm and your mother holding onto his other arm looking around while you followed right after them. You stared up in awe as you all climbed up higher and higher until you all passed under the arch. Your head followed it by as you all passed it on the way through before looking ahead and following your parents down the old cobblestone path. The wysteria trees on both sides were stretched out as far as the eye could see. Beautiful purple flowers everywhere swaying in the breeze and the pleasant fragrance wafting in the air. Your mother was also in awe staring around her.

"This is incredible."

Your father chuckled. "Wait until you see the mansion. Mr. Ubuyashiki is actually very pleasant."

Your mother turned to her husband. "You've already met our daughter's supposed soulmate?"

"No but I met his father. He was rather old. In fact he was old enough to be my grandfather."

"If he's that old then how old is his son?! If he's some pervert-"

"Dear, we are not going to talk bad about someone when we haven't even met him yet-"

SHING-

You squealed out as all of a sudden there was a metallic sound, a flash of shining silver, and then the cold steel of a sword was right in front of your father's face. Your mother shrieked clinging closer to her husband on instinct. The three of you froze as a cold blade was held out to your father's next. Your previous shrieks scaring birds away from you.

"Who the fuck are you people?!"

You timidly peeked around your father's shoulder and looked past him only to pause seeing the man on the other side. It was a man around your age with short untamed white hair but what struck fear into you was the dark small pupils in his feral eyes and the fact that his body was littered in scars. When none of you answered he snarled and pushed the blade closer to the man's neck.

"Are you all deaf?! Answer me!"

"Sanemi, that is not a nice way to treat people!" A much louder voice boomed out from behind you making you squeak again and whirl around to yet another man's torso with his arms crossed. You looked up at his face and paused seeing a head of flaming red hair and just as vibrant fire like eyes. You were stunned at...how absolutely handsome this stranger was as he tilted his head at you. "Especially woman. Now why don't you lower your blade?"

The white haired man narrowed his eyes staring at the frozen middle aged man in front of him. Before glancing at your frightened mother and your frozen form behind her. "...Tch." The large blade was lowered from your father's neck but not put away as the angry scarred man stared them down. "That still doesn't excuse them from trespassing here!"

"INDEED!!" The man with flaming hair agreed loudly causing you to wince at the loud volume. "As much as I don't like my friends violent methods, I agree that you shouldn't be trespassing here! I will have to kindly ask you all to leave!"

"We're supposed to be here." Your father somehow stayed calm throughout this entire thing to his credit. The box shuffled under his arm. "I'm delivering this."

Again the white haired man looked suspicious glancing between him and the box. "Yeah? And what's in it?"

"Herbs and medicine."

"AH!! Then this must be the delivery Oyakata-sama was expecting! EXCELLENT!!" You again winced at the red head's loud voice booming out.

"Oh really? Why is there three of you then? It doesn't take three people to delivery one puny package! Gimme that dam box!"

Your father made no move to stop the man from yanking the box away from his arm. No one made a move as he placed his blade under his arm and harshly tore off the lip to poke his head inside..... before he slowly placed the lid back on the box wordlessly.

"What was in the box?"

Mr. White hair ignored his college before shoving the box back into your father's arms. "Why are three of you delivering herbs instead of just one of you?" Despite his embarrassment he still demanded answers to his questions but lost that angry edge to his tone.

"The master of this estate asked us to come here." Your father calmly said. "I thought it'd be best to see what he wants."

And again that suspicious look was back. "Why would Oyakata-sama ask to see you lot?"

"It wasn't this Oyakata-sama whomever he is. We were invited by Kotoya Ubuyashiki."

"AH!! THE MASTER'S FATHER!!" Mr. Red Head nodded in understanding. "That clears up things then! He probably has invited them here! For what purpose I am unsure however but we should take them to him!"

Mr. White Hair looked at you all before FINALLY slowly putting his blade away. "What would he want with two women and a delivery man?"

"LET'S FIND OUT!!" You jumped as Mr. Red Head quickly pointed his arm down the path again. "Please follow us! I'll show you the way there!" He looked back to your still staring face. "Miss??"

You still stared for about six more seconds until your brain finally registered he was asking for your name. "AH! I-I'm Y/n!" You gave a small bow in greeting before pausing...and slowly looked back up to him. He was rather handsome and..not bad looking. You leaned back up. Could it be-? "Are you.. Kagaya Ubuyashiki?"

The man paused, blinked, before throwing his head back and giving a few hearty laughs that had you blushing.

"PFFT!! HIM?! HA! That's a good one!" Behind you his college also began to laugh making you feel more embarrassed.

His locks swayed as he shook his head eventually his loud laughs devolving into amused chuckles. "I'm flattered you would give me the honor of mistaking me for that title, but I'm afraid you're just that. Mistaken. I am Kyojuro Rengoku, a guard for my Master's estate."

You blinked at him before turning to the now smugly amused white haired man who now had his arms crossed. Now looking at him...He was also quite handsome. Albeit in a more warrior rugged type of way but still fairly handsome. As if sensing your question he just shook his head.

"You're looking at the wrong person."

"This is SANEMI!! Don't let his scary attitude fool you! He's actually a very nice person! If you're here to see the Master's family then follow us. His home is just up ahead."

You were kinda disappointed this handsome man wasn't who you were looking for but at least you were in the right place. It was kinda awkward because Sanemi just turned and started walking away from you all with your parents following and you and Mr. Kyojuro following up behind them both. There was about an hour of silent, awkward walking as you turned your attention to the wysteria trees.

"My apologies for startling you all!" You again jumped and whirled around to Rengoku who smiled warmly. "But when we saw many people in a strange wagon we had to see what your intentions were!"

You didn't even see them coming in? Where did they even come from? Instead you shook your head. "I-Its alright. I would've been suspicious too if a bunch of strangers showed up to my house." You tried giving him a smile. "So..You work for the Ubuyashikis?"

He nodded. "Yes! For a few years now! I guard the estate for my Master!"

"You mean Mr. Kagaya?"

"INDEED!"

That peeked your interest a bit. Perhaps you can get some insight on this mysterious man. "Oh, I see. What's his family like?"

"Oyakata-sama's father is a very good man! I've known him for many years!"

"Oh that's so nice. And...what is Mr. Kagaya like?"

"The Master is the most honorable man that's ever lived!" His smile got even wider. "He's very compassionate and wise beyond his years. You'll never find another man like him even if you tried."

Your eyes widened with each word he spoke. Honorable? Compassionate? Wise? Those were traits that you used to spend countless hours everyday wishing your soulmate had until you decided to focus on yourself and your work. Could it really be everything you needed? Could the gods have sent you the perfect person?

"Is he as handsome as you?"

That caught him off guard as he blinked again before again giving a few loud hearty laughs. But it was a legitimate question from you. You wanted to know what he looked like. What he did. Who he was. What made up Kagaya Ubuyashiki.

"My dear lady, you flatter me!" He gave a few more chuckles but nodded. "But I would say that the Master is rather handsome in his own way!"

"How old is he?", your mother suddenly asked tossing him a suspicious look at Rengoku.

"Mother!"

Kyojuro held up a hand. "It's alright. I actually don't know his specific age. Never asked! But I do know he's actually around my age!"

Oh. So that meant he was actually around your age too! That answer actually seemed to satisfy your mother and she huffed turning back around. At least it did not start an argument.

"You all seem very interested in the Master!"

"We're here to visit his family so it's understandable to ask about someone I'll be meeting." You thought about something for a moment before looking back to him. "You mentioned before that he's the Master of this estate. What does he do for work?"

"The Ubuyashiki's have ran this land for generations! The whole town on the other side of the estate is essentially owned by them! But specifically Oyakaya-sama funds a rather large and successful school! I am also a teacher there when Im not asked to fill in for the usual guards here!"

"A school?" You had a small school back home you attended before studying under the local herbalist but you were surprised to hear a school being very successful.

He nodded. "He wants every child to have an education! My brother attends with his friends! I'm happy to give him a head start in life!"

"Wow. That's a lot of responsibility for him to take on."

"He's a very honorable and responsible man as I've stated before!"

Responsible. That's also what you wanted. Could this really be the one?

You all continued to walk to walk through this wysteria woods. Eventually you all walked over a cobblestone bridge leading over a small stream and continued to walk until you turned a corner blocked by a tree, and nearly ran into your mother as you looked up and let your jaw drop at what you saw.

THE BIGGEST MANSION YOU HAD EVER SEEN WAS SITTING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU ALL!!

It had to be the largest building you'd ever seen in both space and height! The old but nicely maintained building loomed over head covered in many purple petals from the surrounding wysteria trees. In the very front of the house was a very beautiful small clearing edged with small cut shrubs and the cobblestone path continued up to stop at the front steps of the manor. Eventually you all snapped out of your stupor to continue up the path and to the stairs. The first man, Sanemi, was the first one to reach the door before opening it and looking at you all.

"I'm gonna let them know these people are here. Stay with them and make sure they don't try anything!"

"DON'T WORRY!! I'll be fine!"

Sanemi rolled his eyes but left you all awkwardly standing in the doorway and hallway. You watched him walk down the long very clean corridor before he disappeared around the corner and then looked around the tiny hallway as Rengoku just...stood there keeping an eye on you all. Eventually your mother poked your father's side.

"Where does this lead?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I only came this far before delivering the previous order and leaving. I never saw the rest of this place."

That was helpful. You sighed and decided to look around the hall more to occupy time. The wooden floor was polished and well kept. Two paintings hung on the walls. One was a boat on the ocean and the other was too far away from you to see but you thought maybe it was a vase of roses?? A small table sat randomly near the corner where Sanemi disappeared and on top of it was a random decorative vase. And then there was the old man coming towards you-

....You blinked.

A little old man about your mother's height and grandmother's age came shuffling quickly down the hallway and smiled at you all. Behind him Sanemi boredly walked behind him with his hands behind his head.

"At last!" He said in a happy but slightly raspy way. "At last! At last! AT LAST YOU'RE HERE!!"

His arms extended out towards you all as if to embrace you three. It wasn't until he was past the closest painting to you that you realized that..It was directed AT YOU. He was smoking AT YOU. He was holding his arms out TO YOU. And he was coming straight TO YOU!! You had barely registered this fact before suddenly arms were being thrown around you making you freeze as arms pulled you in for a tight hug. Your mother bristled and immediately looked ready to physically yank this stranger off of you.

"I was waiting for you for so long!" He pulled away from you to smile softly and it was only now that you realized that..his little old man was crying. Fat tears rollef down his crinkled face as he smiled widely, happily, softly. "Y-Y-You have no idea about how long we've been waiting for you! To find you finally before the unthinkable happens!" Huh? What did he mean by that? You blinked as his hands cupped your face. "And look at how beautiful you are! Such hair.. It's a rare color I've only seen one other person have!"

You supposed he was referring to Sanemi but- "I'm sorry but..Who are you?"

"Yes. WHO are you?," your mother narrowed her eyes with a frown at him.

"Oh. Yes, yes. We haven't met yet." He quickly rubbed at his face but never lost his excited smile. "I am Kotoya Ubuyashiki." He gave as quick a bow as his old body could give before looking at you again. "I'm so glad you've finally decided to come! We've been waiting for so long!"

"*AHEM!*" Your father cleared his throat loudly gaining your the older man's attention to him. "Perhaps we're starting off on the wrong person. I'm Y/n's father."

"Oh yes! Mr. L/n, I remember you!," he happily greeted turning to your parents with a big smile, "You look well! And this must be your wife!" He smiled at your deadpanned mother. "I apologize for all the trouble I caused but I'm so happy you're all here! I've been trying to find my grandson's soulmate for so long. I feared he'd forever be alone once I passed away."

"Grandson?," your mother instantly looked suspicious at him. "I was told he was your son!"

He nodded. "He's that too. Won't you please come in?" He gestured down the hall towards the rest of the house. "Everything can be explained and we can discuss things."

"That is fine." Your father nodded. "But we can't stay long. My horse is down the hill-"

"Of course, of course. Rengoku please go bring the man's horse some food and water while we conduct business. Cone, come. I'm sure we have much to discuss."

You weren't too sure about this but your father wordlessly followed the smiling man and you reluctantly followed your parents leaving the first two men behind. Mr. Kotoya continued happily chatting despite your father's silence and your mother's scowling. Eventually turning a corner and pointing at random objects or rooms explaining what they were or where they came from until eventually he stopped in front of one room and smiled turning at you specifically.

"This is the indoor garden."

"Indoor garden?"

Kotoya nodded. "We grow plants inside when my grandson is unable to go outside or can't move around too much." Confusion graced your face again. Unable to go outside and move around? Did he mean when it was winter or raining really badly?? "The Library and study is just down the hall across from the dining room."

"That's...very nice but we should get back onto the topic we came back to discuss." Your father firmly looked at him and rose a brow. "We came here to discuss my daughter's involvement in all this and if you don't mind, I'd rather get this over with as soon as possible."

Kotoya eagerly nodded. "But of course. I think the sooner the wedding is the better. It'll take a little bit to throw things together but if you want it to be fast, I can have it all together in as little as a week!"

"I'm not here to discuss any weddings." Your father placed a free hand on his hip. "Ever since last October you've been harassing my family especially my daughter to marry someone she hasn't even met once, you've drove my wife insane, and you haven't taken a hint to our obvious nos!" Mr. Kotoya blinked loosing his smile as your father stood firm and your mother looked proud at her husband. "Now, Sir. I don't take too kindly to people who try and harass my little girl like this. I'm not going to agree with anything especially forcing her to marry someone. Now you better tell me why you're bothering my daughter with this or we're leaving this instant."

There was silence as both men continued to stare down one another bit your father's calm but stern gaze never wavered. Eventually Mr. Kotoya sighed and reached out to brush some of his long white hair from his old face.

"My apologies...I guess I was just desperate for both our children to reunite and allow to have some happiness in his life after so much misfortune. He deserves to be happy for once."

"That still does not explain your actions. My family deserves an explanation for all this madness."

Again Kotoya sighed. "You're right. You're right. That's the least I could do for causing you all so much trouble. You see ..Ever since he was fifteen years old and your daughter's name appeared on his hands, I knew we had to find you. You see my grandson has always had a hard hand in life, when he was only four years old his mother passed away from an accident and my son couldn't handle the grief of living without my daughter-in-law, handling my grandson's conditions, and running the entire estate. Unfortunately he took his own life later that same year." Wait..What did he say about his grandson? "Ever since then I've adopted Kagaya and ran the estate until he was old enough to handle it."

"And you thought that sending letters constantly and asking us to force our daughter into an arranged marriage would be the best way to make him happy?" Your father's brow rose more. "You didn't even seem concerned about my girl's wants. What does your grandson have to say about this?" He looked around raising a brow more. "Actually...Where is this young man? I want to see him. I want to talk to him too."

At this Kotoya lit back up and smiled hopefully. "You mean Kagaya? Would you like to see him?"

Your father nodded instantly. "Yes! I think we'd all like to meet him and see what he's like. Where is he?"

Kotoya smiled wider at him. "He's in the back garden today. He wasn't feeling too good but insisted that some fresh air would be what he needed." He gestured for you all to follow him. "Come. I'll show you the way there."

He motioned for you all to follow him before slowly you all did again. Walking down through halls and past more people. Servants you supposed by the work they were doing. Most glanced at you all in surprise or curiosity as you passed but didn't say anything and just went back to work. Eventually Mr. Kotoya stopped and looked at both of you all with a smile before gesturing to a sliding door beside him.

"This leads outside to our back garden. My grandson is currently meditating there. He's unaware you're here but I'm sure he'll be very happy to meet you finally."

At first no one spoke. No one interacted. No one did anything. Kotoya continued to smile widely as your parents looked at one another silently unsure of what to say or do. F/c eyes turned to look at the simple wooden door and just stared silently at it. Your soulmate was behind that good. The person who the gods had decided that would be your husband when you were fifteen. He was there. Probably waiting for you. What was he like? Was he really everything that you ever wanted? Was he really handsome? Would he be everything you needed? Would you love him? The questions swirled about in your mind...and there was only way to find out. Without saying a word you reached out and grabbed the door slowly. So slowly your parents didn't even notice until you slowly pulled it back startling them both. You all paused at the beautiful sight before you all.

Sunlight shown down from the sky, illuminating what must've been hundreds of flowers blooming in a variety of colors and types all around. Their roots hugged by perfectly cut bright green grass. A full river ran right in the middle of the entire length of it only separated from the grass by cleverly placed rocks and a beautiful wooden bridge to step across it. The beautiful waters rippled and sparkled with sunlight hiding the majestic koi fish living underneath. A few small trees had stationed themselves up amongst the flowers along with a single big bird bath that was already occupied by a few...crows? You paused watching the shiny black birds. They cawed at one another in-between taking dios in the bath.

Why were there crows here? They just seemed so...out of place amongst all the other bright and colorful surroundings. F/c eyes lingered on them a little longer before looking to the left and finding something much more out of place than the crows. A bench. And on that bench was seated a person. You couldn't tell if it was a man or woman because they had their back to you.

... Unconsciously, your feet moved towards them.

The figure remained still. Unmoving as the birds sang and the wind blew. Shiny ebony shoulder length hair swayed with the wind as it rolled by. The slightly swaying of a haori coat also slightly swayed but not as much. Slowly a hand raised, and reached out to a nearby small rose bush and stayed there. A slightly shaking hand brushing so gently against the red petals. The hand jumping slightly as a fluttering little butterfly decided to say hello in greeting. You found yourself almost blank minded as you stopped just two yards away from the person. Despite the fact that your footsteps were completely silent, the head slightly turned to your figure, but not enough to show any facial features.

"Can you tell me what colors this beautiful creature is?" The hand raised up slowly to not jostle the small butterfly resting on his index finger.

Your body flinched at the voice. It was obviously a male voice and it was so.. smooth. So soft. So gentle sounding. It almost made you jump as you continued to blink at this now confirmed man. There was silence again as he didn't say anything else. Your blank mind slowly processing the question as you slowly looked from his head to his raised hand and the butterfly lazily moving it's wings.

"...The top part of the wings are pure white with black on the edges while the bottom of the wings are completely yellow," you slowly said a bit confused about why he'd ask you to describe it's colors when it was clearly right in front of him.

"Ah. An Orange Migrant." The hand slowly brought it closer to his face before it took off into the air again. "One of nature's beautiful children." It circled it's head before deciding to land on the bench a few feet away from him. His head turned back forward, a smile to his lips that you didn't see. "They're all so delicate and fragile yet they're bodies are so strong to withstand so much change. They're quite inspiring little ones."

Your head tilted at him for a moment. "Are you.. Kagaya Ubuyashiki?"

A smooth chuckle that had you blushing escaped the man in front of you before he nodded without turning around. "I am."

That got your heart beating what felt like a million miles a minute, heat rising to your cheeks. This was it! This was actually him! Your soulmate! The one who's name was once carved onto your palms. He was right here in front of you and now your body felt like any moment it would combust under the pressure.

"Your voice sounds new. I don't think we've had the pleasure of meeting."

"I-..I-It's b-because we haven't." You cleared your throat in an attempt to compose yourself. "I-..M-My name is Y/n."

"Y/n?" His gentle voice questioned as if trying the name out and it had you getting more red. Hands gripped together. "Hm. You wouldn't be Y/n L/n by chance would you?"

"That's right." You nodded. "M-My parents and I came all the way here to talk to you and your grandfather about this whole-..." You gestured to nothing. "Situation. I think they'd really like to meet you."

He fell quiet for another long moment before humming and again nodding. "Very well. You all went through all the trouble, it would only be right for me to see you all."

One hand reached out to grab the arm of the bench as if to use it to push himself up as the other arm reached out to grab the back of the bench for the same reason. A shadow falling over the small defenseless butterfly as the hand approached closed above it. F/c eyes shrank-

"STOP!!"

Before you could stop yourself, you had shouted arms reaching out. Crows cawed and flapped away in a scatter and flurry of wing beats. A few black feathers falling to the grass in their wake. Your yell had scared your parents in the doorway who had been distracted talking to Mr. Kotoya in detail but all three were startled into staring at the garden. Kagaya himself had frozen instantly arm still stretched out and raised just an inch away from crushing the poor butterfly that had decided it was still too lazy to move. For a long moment there was silence before you approached and his head turned to the right following you as you approached.

"You almost crushed it." You didn't pay attention to him as you pushed his hand away to stare at the poor thing, sighing in relief seeing it was perfectly alright. "Oh thank goodness. You poor thing." Soft hands reached out to it but didn't touch it's delicate wings. "You must be exhausted from all the flying you've done."

"....Will you be grabbing it off the bench?"

"Of course not! You can't grab a butterfly especially not by it's wings! They're fragile and it'll only hurt them more than help them." You paid him no mind only sticking out a finger to carefully nudge the little thing onto it. Smiling as it slowly clambered on. "There you go. Look how pretty you are."

Without looking up from the butterfly you smiled sweetly and carefully stepped back over to the rose bush. Kagaya's head turning still following you as you knelt down to hold your hand to the nearest rose. Nudging your fingertip against the soft petals until it climbed onto the red petals, fluttering it's wings lightly. There. Perfectly safe and sound. F/c eyes crinkled up in a smile as the beautiful little thing fluttered back as if in thanks which made you giggle lightly at it. Lavender eyes widened hearing the giggling.

The woman's giggles were so...playful. So lively. So sweet. They radiated kindness and hidden love in them that had him pausing just hearing such a thing over a small butterfly and yet..She had refused to let it be hurt when he had almost accidentally crushed. ..A softer smile came to his lips. Until his body froze up. A burning sensation clawing up from deep down below-

"*COUGH COUGH COUGH*?!?!"

You jumped startled hearing the sudden sounds of raspy coughing but was stunned to find Kagaya doubled over so low and far he might fall out of the bench. His hands grabbed around his mouth as painful coughs and gasps wracked his body so much his body shook with each breath. It looked and sounded painful. A shout came from the doorway as Kotoya made his way over quickly.

"Mr. Kagaya?!" Startled you stood up and held your hands out but didn't touch him. "A-Are you alright?!" You couldn't see his face as his hair hid it from view like an ebony curtain. "W-What's wrong?!"

"Easy there!" Kotoya startled you as he ran around the other side of the bench and grabbed Kagaya around his shoulders as the man gasped for air. "I knew I shouldn't have let you walk out here by yourself! Now look at you. *Sigh* Easy, Son. Deep breaths in your nose and out of your mouth."

"W-What's wrong with him? Is he sick?"

Kotoya nodded. "Yes. He has been for a long time now. I've been praying for the gods to send him aid and they did in the form of you." Despite Kagaya gasping for breath, Kotoya shot a smile at you. "Your parents told me you were an herbalist. Thank the gods he'll have someone to care for him long after me."

You....blinked. "I'm sorry. Did you say that I would be... taking care of him?"

Kagaya's body stopped shaking finally before he slowly leaned back up. Head turning to you. You froze as white eyes stared blindly at you. Half a face covered in old, purpled scars. His mouth still open panting for air as he weakly stared at you. Fat tears stinging the corners of his lashes as you stared in shock at him. Despite your obviously shocked expression Kotoya patted Kagaya on the back with a soft smile.

"It's ok. You're going to finally have someone to care for you now. You'll be happy finally."

".... P-PAPA!!"

#kagaya ubuyashiki #demon slayer kagaya ubuyashiki #kagaya x reader #kagaya ubuyashiki x reader #kimetsu gakuen #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #Kny #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic #love is blind

9 notes · View notes

bumblepony · 9 months

Text

Master List Of My TLOU Fics On AO3 & Artwork Made For My Fics

Color Coding: Green: Finished Red: On Going

Classification Coding: CU: Canon Universe AU: Alternate Universe

My Series

The Life of Bill and Frank - CU - Bill & Frank stories that fill in the gaps.

Growing Up With My Two Dads - AU - Bill & Frank become Ellie's dad's after they help Anna give birth.

Tess and Joel Another Time - AU - Tess & Joel meet and the apocalypse doesn't happen.

Life's Little Surprises - AU - After Silver Lake and David, Ellie has some unexpected consequences. The Miller family comes together to help.

Baby Boy Miller - AU - No apocalypse happens, and Joel has two kids with his ex-wife, Sarah, and a son called Junior.

My Non-Series Fics

The Love We Weave - CU - Joel teaches Tommy how to braid SJ's hair, and Joel opens up to Ellie about what braiding Sarah's hair meant to him.

Glitch in the Code or Playing Video Games with My Uncle and Dad - AU - The Miller's find copies of The Last Of Us Part I & II in Jackson and play the games together.

Papa Is A Rolling Stone - CU (kinda, they make the cure) - Uncle Tommy watching his brother become a father again.

Grilled Cheese and Late Nights - CU - Joel makes Ellie grilled cheese on a hard night.

It's Not A Straight Line - CU - Joel is there for Ellie in all the moments not just the big ones.

See You When I See You - AU - Maria is the waitress that Tommy saved at the bar on outbreak night, and they meet up again in Jackson many years later.

Measure Twice, Cut Once - CU - Ellie decides to dress up like Joel for Halloween, and Joel has memories of another little girl who had the same idea.

I Saw The Sign And It Opened Up My Eyes, I Saw The Sign - CU - Joel's having more issues with his hearing, and the Miller clan steps in to help.

It Keeps Going Round and Round - CU - Joel, Tommy, and the rest of the Miller gang are in for some hurt/comfort. - This is a collaborative work with @tlouobsessed

A Soul For Sale Or Rent - AU - No apocalypse happens. Ellie is a Ghost, and Joel is the only one who can see her. She needs his help to figure out what happened to her before it's too late.

Back In The Swing Of Things - CU (But Joel's is Bi) - Joel and Ellie are finally settled into Jackson, and Joel is ready to get back into the dating game.

Boy I Was Back Then - AU - Tommy and Maria meet for the first time in 1995 when Tommy works as a Ranch Hand on Maria's family ranch for the summer. They met again 11 years later in 2006, Will their love be strong enough to bring them back together?

Bad Things Happen Bingo

If Only We Were Pirates - Ransom Note - Tess gets kidnapped, and Joel and Fam go and rescue her.

Dancing On Glass - Angry Mob - After getting separated from Tess, Tommy, and Riley during an easy job because of an Angry Mob, Ellie gets bit, and Joel has to deal with failing again.

Forever Hold Your Peace - Mouth Stitched Shut - Joel dreams of Tess at different points of her life, both real and imagined. The taste is intoxicating.

We're Only Going So Far - Trying to Wake Them Up - Dying in your sleep isn't how anyone expects to go, not in this world, least of all Joel… and yet.

Muscle Memory - Sore Throat - Ellie gets sick a week out from Kansas City, and Joel has to take care of her.

Smut

Save A Horse, Ride a Cowboy (Cause The Girls, They Are So Pretty) - CU - Tommy and Maria go line dancing at the Tipsy Bison, and things get heated when they get home.

With My Head Up In Outer Space - AU - Maria has a bad day at work and just wants to get out of her head a little bit, Tommy is happy to help.

The Night I'm Here With You - CU (But Joel's is Bi) - The NSFW section of Joel and Issac's first date from my Back In The Swing Of Things story.

Artwork

You can find artwork for my fics under the link.

PFP Ponies

All of my PFP ponies!

#tlou #ao3 #joel #ellie #tommy #bill x frank #joel x tess #tommy x maria #tlou hbo #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou fanart

21 notes · View notes

twola · 1 year

Text

Devil's Backbone - Owanjila II

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC/Reader POV Tags: Longfic, Slow Burn, Smut (18+), Violence, Canon-Typical Injuries

Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.

Owanjila II: A Path Laid Clear

The gang regroups at Owanjila - but recollecting themselves after the abject failure of Blackwater is more challenging than first perceived.

CW: Injuries, death, traumatic stress, panic attacks

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

Smoke curls upward through the pines, wafting away into the morning breeze as if it never existed. He blows another cloud of smoke skyward, sighing as he glances through the branches overlooking the small glen, its disturbed dirt obvious on the hillside.

Lenny sits on the ground, back against the trunk of a pine tree, an empty bottle hangs limply in his hand. He stares at the dirt - far too recently dug and far too much resembling the shape of a body. His eyes, bloodshot, seem far away from this place - distant in their muteness, their sadness, their grief.

“She was a sweet girl.” Arthur’s low timbre rumbles.

Lenny doesn’t respond, his eyes still trained on the ground.

“They’re makin’ a tombstone back at the camp for ‘er.”

The boy nods slowly, and Arthur rubs his forehead beneath the brim of his hat before plucking the cigarette from his lips and tossing it to his feet, where he crushes it underneath his boot.

“C’mon kid. Ain’t gonna do you no good to be drinkin’ yourself into the ground next to ‘er.” Arthur steps closer, holding out his hand for Lenny to take. Lenny takes it, and Arthur pulls him to stand, he stumbles slightly, but regains his balance within a step. He drops the empty whiskey bottle to the ground, it rolls a few feet downhill.

Lenny sighs, his shoulders falling. “Didn’t even tell her how sweet I was on her.”

Arthur nods, staring at the dirt - the pile of earth that was all that was left of Jenny Kirk. Poor girl. So full of energy and life and spark. She died as the camp was moving north, bleeding out in the back of a wagon.

He sighs, placing his hand on Lenny’s shoulder. “C’mon now.”

Lenny nods, sadly, looking back over to the earthen grave for a moment before turning away and silently following Arthur back toward the camp.

“There’s nothing I can do for him.” You sigh, looking at the ground. Susan Grimshaw frowns, but places a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“I know, Missus Shaw. Best we can do is make him comfortable.” She says without a hint of the sharpness her voice usually has.

The two of you stand just outside the tent erected as a makeshift sick bay, and since you’ve arrived atop Arthur’s stolen horse, you’ve been assisting Susan and Abigail in changing bandages, cleaning wounds, and salving burns. While most people were able to escape Blackwater with minor injuries, Davey lay in a cot with a raging fever, having taken a shot to the gut that had become infected over the two days since the failed heist.

You rub at your eyes tiredly before ducking back into the tent, where Abigail grimaces as she pulls back the stained linen bandage over his stomach, wet with a clear sheen, his skin reddening in deathly spiderwebs from the wound. Davey winces at the movement, groaning out in pain, his fingers clutching at the side of the cot.

“Ruth, go get the Reverend. At this point, we just need to ease his pain. I’m sure the man has some morphine on him.” Miss Grimshaw moves past you in the tent, taking a linen cloth from the small tin bucket on the side table, wringing it out, and placing it gently on the man’s forehead as he moans.

You nod, exiting the tent. Surveying the campsite on the hill of the large lake, you wince slightly as a pain shoots up your side. Ever since you and Arthur were thrown from Boadicea three days ago, the pain and aches in your side have only grown. But you don’t have the luxury of slowing down. Not amongst this group. Not when people were injured and dying… not when you’ve sold a fair part of your usefulness on your small medical repertoire.

Off a ways from the tent, you see the hob-knob lean-to where some of the men have taken up - usually where the old man only known as Uncle was, Reverend Swanson was not far behind, the two of them usually holed up with bottles of hooch getting blitzed while the sun was shining.

Speaking of which, you spy the old man sitting against a tree trunk. Your hurry in that direction.

“Uncle - do you know-” You step toward him.

“Why, if it ain’t the lovely Missus Shaw. Want to join me for a drink? The hooch is miiighty fine this morning!” Uncle shakes a half-empty bottle at you as he reclines against a tree trunk.

“No- no thank you. Do you know where Reverend Swanson is?”

Uncle snorts, rolling his eyes, he points the bottle towards the lean-to, where you look in and see a pair of feet just within the shade of the tent. You step over Uncle’s outstretched legs, sighing, and move over toward the tent.

“Reverend?”

You’re met with no response.

“Reverend.” A little louder. A little sterner. Your patience is growing thin.

“Wha- wha d’ya wan-?” Swanson slurs from within the tent, making no hints of moving.

You stoop down on your knees at the opening of the tent, a lance of pain going up your side, and you swear under your breath.

“Do - do you have any morphine on you, Reverend Swanson?”

Swanson looks at you with a suspicious air around him. You can tell he’s intoxicated - but he is certainly still functioning, sitting up within the canvas.

“No, Missus Shaw. I do not.” He says, narrowing his eyes at you as he moves to crawl out of his tent and stand.

Cursing under your breath again, you stand up as the Reverend crosses his arms.

“Reverend please, it’s to ease the man’s pain before he passes-”

“It don’t matter no more, Ruth.”

You turn around to see Abigail walking toward you, she stops when she sees that she has your attention, “Davey’s dead.”

You sigh, running your hands down your face. You step over Uncle’s splayed leg, joining Abigail on the walk back to the sick tent. As the two of you approach, Grimshaw exits the tent, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

“I’ll go tell Dutch. You girls go on and clean up. I’m sure he’ll have the Reverend bury the body.”

Abigail sternly nods, turning to you, “Do you mind beginning? I need to check on Jack. Feel bad that Hosea’s been stuck with him the whole time.”

“Of course, go ahead.” You say as Abigail touches your arm in thanks, and you duck under the canvas of the sick tent once more, the air heavy with the stench of death.

You sigh and begin collecting used supplies - linen bandages, empty bottles of tonic - and tossing them into a pile at the end of the bed. Several minutes go by and Abigail and Susan wordlessly join you, the matriarch of the group rebuttoning the shirt on Davey’s cooling body and pulling the blanket from the cot. Outside the tent, people start to gather, the word traveling fast in this campsite on the hill.

Dutch pulls the hat from his head, closing his eyes and setting his jaw. He turns to see who has gathered here: several of the men, nearly all of the women. His eyes settle on Swanson, who has stumbled his way over to the group.

“Reverend. Bury Davey. Somewhere the sun’ll shine on him. Bill, Javier - assist the Reverend on this.”

Nods and grunts of affirmation are met in return, and Dutch surveys the group - outlaws and thieves, brigands and highwayman - these people, living on the fringes of a society that doesn’t accept them - scorns them even - they look worn down, beaten, scared.

“Look, I - I know it's been hard. Lord, do I know that. But we’ve been in these rough spots before. We’ve lost good men,” Dutch looks at the women on the periphery of the group, “and women, but that can’t mean that we stop. If we stop livin’ the way we do, that means the forces that want us dead-” He pauses, looking at the group and all of the sets of eyes upon him.

“That means they’ve won. And we will not let them win. We won’t let them take our freedom, or our dreams, faith, ideas. We won’t let them take any of it. We do the taking.”

There are a few rumbles of agreement at the end of his speech, and Dutch breathes out heavily. He nods his head back toward the tent, and the three men he addressed earlier step inside.

Dutch sighs, rubbing at his temples as Bill and Javier carry Davey’s body from the tent, wrapped in linen sheets, with a suddenly sobered Swanson following behind them. The Reverend paces toward one of the wagons, grabbing a shovel from it and quickly following the two men as they take the body away from camp.

The silence is nearly deafening.

Arthur slowly makes his way toward Dutch, standing at the entrance of the medical tent. The older man glances inside at the empty cot, while you and Susan and Abigail move about the tent, pulling together soiled linen, and medical supplies, and clearing the space for its next occupant, with the way things were going, someone was bound to end up there soon.

“So... Do you think it was a trap? In Blackwater?” Arthur asks as he runs his hand down his beard, taming errant stray hairs as he lines his jaw. He stares down at the ground, his eye on a rock under his boot that he kicks at absentmindedly.

“That many men? Oh, they knew we were coming. Goddamn Pinkertons. Blackwater was overrun with those prim-suited bastards.” Dutch sneers as he stares ahead, his knuckles popping as his hands pressed together.

You freeze, in the middle of throwing dirty, bloody linen bandages into a bucket. Right outside the tent, you can hear the conversation between Arthur and Dutch, with the leader of the gang railing on about how the Pinkertons must have known about the ferry job, that someone slipped up, there were just too many of them.

“Ruth.”

Grimshaw’s voice cuts through the stale air of the tent, and you shiver slightly, coming back to your senses. The woman holds out a stained bandage, waiting for you to take it.

“ ‘M sorry, Miss Grimshaw. Mind just went away for a second.” You mumble, taking the linen bandage and tossing it into the bucket at your side.

Her stern brow softens slightly. “Go on and get some air. Don’t think we have any more dirty linen to get rid of. Might as well burn it at the scout fire.”

You nod, picking up the bucket and placing it on your hip. You wince as the pain in your side flares, hiding your discomfort from the women in the tent by turning around quickly, gritting your teeth against the groan welling up in your throat.

Pushing through the flaps of the tent, you come face to face with Dutch, who looks over from gazing down the hillside to the lake. Arthur glances up also, before looking back down at the ground, placing one of his hands on the buckle of his gunbelt.

“Thank you for what you did for him, Missus Shaw.”

“It wasn’t much.” You mumble, unable to keep eye contact with the man. Your thoughts immediately return to what you heard the two men talking about - the Pinkertons in Blackwater. Dutch going on about how many Pinkertons were in Blackwater.

You walk past the two men, eyes on the ground, praying that they couldn’t tell there was a cold sweat breaking out at your temple, down your neck, down your back. You’re praying that they don’t ask you why you look pale - hoping that they think your demeanor has to do with the man who just died in front of you, rather than the truth.

The Pinkertons were in Blackwater for you.

And you didn’t say anything .

People are injured and missing and dead because you didn’t say anything .

All that’s left of sweet Jenny Kirk is under a pile of dirt on a hillside. Davey Callendar was about to be covered in cold dirt as well. Mac and Sean, who knows where they were or if they were even alive. John and Charles swathed in bandages.

You make it to the scout fire and Micah grumbles some off-handed greeting you refuse to respond to. Dumping the used linen on the fire, you watch as the flames slowly curl around the fabric as the pile begins to burn. You place the bucket on the ground and move to walk further away from the camp as your heart continues to race uncontrollably.

“Don’t go too far out there, Missus Shaw. Bears and wolves would love to eat somethin’ small and sweet as you.” Micah drawls with a mischievous glint in his eye.

If Dutch finds out you’re the reason that there were more lawmen in Blackwater during the heist and people died because of it…

You’d rather take your chances with the wild animals.

“What the hell happened out there?”

John lights a cigarette behind cupped hands and breathes out heavily, watching the smoke’s tendrils float between the needles of the pine he stood under.

“It… it went south. Dutch shot a girl… in a bad way. Then there were more damn Pinkertons there than…”

Abigail crosses her arms over her chest in exasperation, “Christ, we got Pinkertons after us?”

“Abigail. It's fine. We got away.” John replies, trying to calm the woman down before their conversation fell into the argument it was always bound to be.

“John-” Abigail sighs, rubbing her forehead, “We - we got more to think about than…”

A high, female cry breaks the hushed voices of John and Abigail, the former of whom grabs Abigail and quickly ushers her behind him, hand on his gun. He peers around, looking for the source of the noise. He and Abigail had purposefully stepped farther from camp, to keep the inevitable argument between themselves, for once.

“There, shit!” Abigail curses, pointing over John’s shoulder, ducking out from behind him and running in the direction she pointed, further south on the hillside, toward where the lake edged the mountain cliffsides.

“Abby-!”

It was only a moment more until he saw what she was running toward, a figure leaning heavily against a tree, in obvious pain.

“Ruth!” Abigail calls out, coming steps closer.

“Hey - hey, what’s wrong, are you okay?” Abigail slowly edges toward you, hand timidly reaching out as if you were a skittish dear.

You pant, your breathing heavy as pain shoots through your side again. One of your hands, white-knuckled, grasps at the trunk of the tree to steady yourself. Tears stream from your eyes uncontrollably. Clutching at your ribcage, you moan, voice high in pain, sinking to collapse on the ground.

“Shit!” Abigail yelps, running the rest of the way over to you, falling to her knees next to your crumbled form.

She presses on your side and your eyes fly open as you scream in agony.

“John, John, get over here!” Abigail turns back toward where she and John had been arguing, and for once, the petulant man did not put up a fight, striding quickly over to the two women on the ground.

“We gotta take her back to camp-” Abigail brushes tendrils of your hair off your pallid and sweaty forehead, “Ruth, honey, can you walk?”

Your teeth and eyes are clenched as you try to stifle the sounds escaping your throat. Abigail looks expectantly, pleadingly up at John. John rolls his eyes back at her but pulls the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows before stooping down on one knee.

“Alright - c’mon, up you go.”

John winds his arms beneath your knees and behind your back, heaving you up into his arms as he stands. The jostling movement smacks your ribcage against his sternum, and you swear in a cracked voice.

“John!” Abigail yells at him at your gasp of pain.

“Woman, ain’t no way to do this that ain’t gonna hurt her.” John retorts, starting to walk back toward the camp.

Abigail follows John’s fast steps, her skirts hitched in one hand as they burst into camp.

“Grimshaw!” John yells out, stalking toward the tent with all the medical supplies. Christ, Davey's body was probably still warm in the ground, having so recently vacated the tent.

Tears continue to roll down your cheeks as John tries to jostle you the least amount possible, but his efforts are in vain as you whimper, each step jolting through your side.

John ducks into the shed, with Susan quickly following, tuttering like a mother hen.

“There - on the cot, yes, gently, please, Mister Marston.” Grimshaw moves around John quickly, guiding him to lay you on the cot. He does, unlacing

“Thank you, we will take care of her.” Grimshaw nods, moving to grab at the bottles of tonic on the table.

John simply grunts in reply, moving to leave the tent. As he dips to step out, he comes face to face with the mother of his child, his one-time paramour.

“Thanks, John,” Abigail says lowly, eyes darting past him to where you lay on the cot. She looks back up to him, guiltily, “I’m… I’m glad you’re alright after Blackwater.” Without waiting for a reply, she pushes forward, into the tent, to assist Miss Grimshaw.

It's in a near whisper, and he almost has to strain to hear it. Bewildered, he looks back at her figure, eyes remaining on her a second longer than he knows they should have.

John leaves the tent and nearly stumbles into the towering frame of his adoptive older brother, built like a brick house. Under his black hat, his mouth is pulled in a tight line.

Arthur narrows his eyes, “Marston.”

John does not feel like having one of Arthur’s ‘talking downs’ now. He steps past the older man, “Morgan.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Arthur nods toward the medical tent.

“Could be dyin’ for all I know. You’re the one who’s been around her the most.” John retorts, not turning around as he moves further away.

Arthur turns and stares at the flap of the tent, and the canvas shifts ever so slightly in the breeze.

“Ruth, dear, Ruth, what’s wrong, what happened?” Miss Grimshaw asks, trying to get you to calm down, stifled sobs wracking your small frame.

She looks up at Abigail, “What happened to the girl?”

Abigail shakes her head, “I don’t know…”

Grimshaw shakes her head, “Well - come on now, looks like somethin’ on her side.” She waves her hand toward you and where you squirm in the cot.

Abigail stoops down on her knees next to the cot and sighs as she reaches toward your torso. You groan and try to squirm away from her hand as she grasps at your shirt.

“Ain’t no time for bein’ embarrassed,” Abigail mutters as she begins to unbutton your shirt, your chemise becoming more and more uncovered. You are in so much pain at this point you can barely do anything but whimper with eyes squeezed shut as the woman above you starts pulling on the fabric of your chemise, untucking it from your skirts and pushing it up your torso.

“Jesus Christ…” Abigail mumbles, then turns her head toward Susan.

“Wha-” You gasp as she presses her hand against your ribcage, and pain sears up and down your side.

Miss Grimshaw quickly peers over Abigail’s shoulder. “God - how did that happen?”

“Wha-“ You grimace again, “What is it?”

“You definitely have some broken ribs there, Ruth. Your whole damn side is one ugly-lookin’ bruise.” Abigail says, quite manner-of-factly.

You suck air in through your teeth as another deluge of tears spills from your eyes.

Grimshaw frowns. “Let me get her something, poor girl.”

The older woman leaves the tent for only a few minutes, coming back with a half-drunk bottle of whiskey and a dirty glass. Abigail stands from where she was kneeling next to the cot, her lips drawing into a tight line. She turns and storms out of the tent, narrowing her eyes when she finds the target of her ire lurking a few steps away.

“Arthur!” She yells, stomping toward him, catching him off guard as he smokes a cigarette. She reaches him and stands right up in his personal space, completely unfazed by how foreboding and fearsome the gunslinger looks.

“The hell you let happen to her?” Abigail sticks her finger in Arthur’s face accusingly, “The poor woman’s probably got broken ribs and her whole damn side is one big’ ol bruise.”

Arthur pushes her hand away and scowls. “I didn’t do anythin’ to the woman. Probably got it when we were bucked when Boadicea got shot.”

Abigail’s furrowed brows soften at the revelation, but the glower remains as she breathes loudly through her nose before stomping back into the tent.

Arthur steps closer to the medical tent and can hear your soft crying from within as Abigail murmurs something. Grimshaw exits through the canvas flap, holding a now-empty bottle of whiskey. Her sternly-set eyebrows do not falter as she takes Arthur in.

“She should be fine. Surprised she was walking around with injuries like that. A week or two of rest and she’ll be back to herself. Y’dont need to worry bout her.” Susan remarks, moving past Arthur.

“I ain’t wo-”

“Mister Morgan, you best remember I’ve known you since you were a boy. You’re an excellent shot, but I know you’re a terrible liar.”

Arthur glances back at the tent as Miss Grimshaw walks toward the center of camp and Pearson’s wagon.

Through the barely open canvas flaps, he can see your still form laying in the cot - the cot so recently occupied by people who were now dead.

A few weeks later…

“Ginseng, actually. I know it's not the most delicious of brews, but it certainly helps.”

You sit on a folding chair in the shade - your side still giving you some pain, but time to rest had made it more bearable. Hosea took it on himself to be your nursemaid - though more time was spent retailing tales of old days than anything else.

You thank him quietly, reaching for the cup that he holds out to you. A murky liquid swirls in it, unappetizing to say the least.

The sound of horses' hooves breaks through the quiet of the afternoon. A few hoots and hollers, and from the north, the men who had left before the sunrise burst back into the camp, Dutch leading the crew atop his snow-white stallion. Arthur and Javier, Bill, Lenny, and Micah all thunder back into the camp.

Hosea glances back to you, handing you the cup he was holding. “If you’ll excuse me, my dear - I’ll be back.”

You nod, taking the cup and sipping at it slowly. As Hosea walks away, you cringe at the bracing drink, close to spitting it out.

The elder outlaw continues down the hillside, where the men and horses have gathered from their outing. Hosea adjusts the brim of his hat against the sun.

“I’m guessin’ by the mood you were successful?” He asks Dutch as the leader swings down from his mount.

“Successful, old girl?” Dutch chuckles, “I would say more than that. That ranch on the way to the train station? It was an O’Driscoll camp.”

Hosea frowns. “Colm’s that close?”

“Not anymore he ain’t.” Bill sidles up with a grin, “Arthur over here was able to nab one, some lilly-lickin’ fool.”

As if on cue, Arthur grunts as he walks by, a bound and gagged man over his shoulder. He tosses him to the ground as if he were a heap of refuge. The man rolls over onto his back, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Eh, looks like Colm’ll take just about anyone these days.” Hosea looks over the man with disdain.

Dutch claps Hosea’s back, “Indeed he does. Has a lot less now,” He turns to Bill, “Mister Williamson, go on and show our guest how hospitable we are to O’Driscolls.”

Bill smiles with a heinous gleam in his eye, He yanks the man up from the ground where Arthur dumped him, and starts dragging him away.

“Dutch, should offer the little widow a shot at ‘im too - considerin’ was O’Driscolls who killed her husband.” Bill guffaws as he drags the captive toward a tree on the edge of the campsite.

“Any other ill-gotten gains from your venture?”

Dutch smiles, staring at the ground, “Ruining Colm’s day is always a gain in my book. But yes - supplies, and a lead on a job that Colm was planning in two weeks.”

“Job?”

“Train robbery.” Arthur wipes a bit of dust from his brown leather jacket sleeve.

“Oh,” Hosea laughs, “Back to those again? Haven’t done one of those in a while.”

“Back to our roots - a return to simplicity,” Dutch says as he turns, a wide grin gracing his face. It had been far too long since Hosea had seen Dutch in such spirits - before Blackwater even. The raiding group goes their separate ways as the excitement from before dies down. Hosea looks back up the hill, where you still sit in your seat, watching the blue waters of the lake below.

Hosea returns to his seat, the folding chair next to yours under the bower of mountain pines. He peers into the cup you hold, still quite full.

“Ah - I see you’re not a fan of the brew.”

You try to keep the smile on your face as you hand the cup back to him, a blush overtaking your features.

“I’m sorry-”

Hosea laughs, shaking his head as he sits down, placing the cup on the ground.

“Missus Shaw.”

You look up, shielding your eyes from the sun, squinting before a large shadow blocks out the sun.

“Mister Morgan.” You say, with a smile, “Looks like y’all were busy.”

Arthur lowers his head, his face obscured by the rim of his old leather hat. He places his hands on his gun belt and sways ever so slightly.

“Was, uh, wonderin’, y’know, after that whole run-in with the law on the road…”

He trails off. Hosea raises his eyebrow amusedly.

“Well,” Arthur waves one of his hands in the air, “If you’re up to it at some point, maybe I could, uh, teach you how to shoot.”

You snort, “Mister Morgan, are you saying my aim was that bad?”

“Well, I’m sayin’ you can’t hit the broad side of a barn.”

Hosea guffaws in his seat as you wrinkle your forehead in mock irritation. You look at Hosea before looking back at Arthur, who looks extremely uncomfortable.

“Alright, Mister Morgan. I’ll take you up on that sometime.”

Arthur nods his head, taking his leave, “Ma’am.”

You watch his retreating figure. Hosea lights a cigarette and smiles.

“What are you doin’?” A small voice interrupts the methodic cleaning of the revolver set on the table in front of him.

John looks up, and frowns, making eye contact with the child across from him. A child with wild brown hair and his dark eyes.

“Cleanin’ my gun.”

“Are you almost done?”

John sighs loudly, placing the revolver on the table. He rolls his eyes toward the sky before they land again on the boy, who stands patiently waiting for attention. Not that he wants to be outwardly mean to the child, but he knows that what the boy is looking for is something he isn’t willing to give.

He looks back at the gun.

“Go on, I’m sure your mother is lookin’ for you,” John says, not looking up at Jack as he feeds bullets into the cylinder’s empty chambers.

“But Pa-” Jack pipes up, his small hands reaching toward John.

“Don’t… don’t call me that,” John says lowly, his hand letting go of his gun and taking the boy’s, gently pushing him back.

The poor kid looks like he wants to cry.

Christ, he didn’t ask for any of this. Why was Abigail so damn obstinate? Why did she keep the damn baby? Was the boy even his? Abigail was visited by most men in the camp…

John Marston didn’t know who he was kidding. Himself, perhaps, he was trying. Everyone, including him, knew the boy was his. Everyone knew that he was chasing Abigail’s skirts like a madman for a while there - they were obnoxious , according to Hosea, rutting like rabbits. Anywhere and everywhere he could get his hands on her, he had her.

Something about those sultry eyes of hers, the way her hair fell around her face when he pulled the ribbon holding her bun in place. Christ, the way she moaned his name when he slid into her….

John kicks at the ground angrily. It’s been years, at this point, since they’ve touched one another. A few times after the boy was born, once she had healed from the birth - but once he left when the suffocating reality of being a father settled in - that was the last time she looked at him with anything other than derision.

Whatever.

John Marston could get his dick wet if he wanted to. Wasn’t anything stopping him. Abigail sure wasn’t. They weren’t together - the extent of their togetherness at this point was the five year old boy standing in front of him.

Jack frowns, turning around and pacing away slowly, his shoulders slumped. John looks back to his revolver, spinning the cylinder to the last empty chamber, shoving a bullet in it before spinning it and locking it shut.

“C’mere, kid. How’s about we go see the new horse, huh?”

John glances over his shoulder. In the periphery of his vision, he can see Arthur Morgan leaning over, his hands on his knees, talking to Jack at the boy’s level. The boy’s shoulders raise, and he happily follows Arthur away, giddily talking up to the gunslinger.

Marston glares at the retreating figures through the strands of his long hair. The smoldering flame of frustration in his gut flares up, and he can barely hold back a snarl as he shoves his revolver into his gunbelt.

Would probably be better for everyone if Jack was Arthur’s son. He’s much more adept at dealing with him - John knew Arthur had a son years ago, before Jack was born, but that the boy and his mother died in a robbery.

But again, the flare of anger roils in his gut when he thinks of Abigail cozying up to Arthur and being one stupid, happy family together.

He paces toward Dutch’s large tent on the hillside, high above Owanjila. Dutch sits at the mouth of the tent, across from Hosea.

“I heard talk in Strawberry ‘bout a ranch up north in the Grizzlies. Think I’m gonna head up there to check it out.” John rasps, the char from the cigarette he just finished making his voice hoarse.

Dutch nods, not looking up from his book. He takes the cigar from his mouth and snubs the edge into the plate on the side table next to him. Hosea, sitting on a folding chair opposite Dutch, looks John up and down before giving him a wry grin.

“Be sure you bring your coat, boy. This time of year that area can still get snow.”

John rolls his eyes as he leaves, stalking toward the horses.

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #red dead fandom #rdr #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x female oc #twolafic #rdr2 smut #devil’s backbone #ao3 #red dead smut

30 notes · View notes

five-miles-over · 2 years

Text

Fairytale

Pairing: Prince Hal x Reader

Summary: While riding upon your horse in the woods, you come across a stranger with a silver tongue and golden curls. And he calls himself "Hal". (Basically meet-cute and fluff.

Hope you enjoy it)

The scent of dew and fresh mud filled your nostrils while you rode through the forested outskirts of the town. Upon a black stallion, a horse from your family's stables whom you fondly named Idyia, you took in the signs of the towering trees crowned with leaves of various hues. A robin sang after it landed on a branch. Idyia trotted, leaves crunching under her hooves.

It couldn't have been a more serene, tranquil moment. As a noble girl whose family was linked to the royal court of England, and therefore had a reputation to maintain, there were few things that you could relish without the prying eyes of nurses, intruding elders, or gossipy maids. And while you enjoyed your close friends, there were times where you needed a break from the world. A break from being endlessly lectured about propriety, poise, and the pressing need to find a good husband.

So here you were, with a vibrant blue cloak over a long, dark blue gown with silver embroidery, enjoying the beauty of nature and the company of Idyia. Suddenly…

"Colours me*!" A male voice exclaimed. Your horse briefly stood on its hind legs when a cloaked figure tumbled into your path. Without thinking, you grabbed Idyia's reins

The figure crawled onto its knees and pulled its hood back to reveal a man with sharp cheekbones, blonde curls, and a boyish smile. His face and hands were caked with mud. "My lady," he grinned, as if he hadn't scared you a moment ago.

"Who might you be?" You asked, still holding tightly onto Idyia's reins, your heart still racing.

"Hal," the man responded without missing a beat. "Call me Hal."

You slowly nodded, running your fingers through Idyia's mane. "Hal…" Was it short for something else? Hal didn't seem like a common or proper name.

"Just Hal."

You curtly introduced yourself to the stranger, giving only your first name.

"My lady," Hal began as he slowly stood up and dusted himself off. "Would you be so kind as to help me get to town. Somewhere with some clean water, to get all the mud off."

"Of course. The town isn't too far from here."

"Thanks…" Hal stumbled towards Idyia and pawed at the saddle, but he stopped when you gave him a look. "I'll walk alongside you, my lady. Especially, since I…I surprised you. Let's save riding together for another occasion."

Flustered by his last sentence, you reluctantly pulled the reins and rode into town with Hal walking by your side. After several moments of silence, Hal looked up at you. "Where are you from?"

"My family's estate is near the outskirts of the palace…do you come from far away, Hal?"

"No, no. Closer than you think." He chuckles. "What brought a high-born lady like yourself to the forest?"

"I needed some time…to think."

"Thinking? I've done some of that myself."

"Oh really?"

"I think about many things," Hal claimed. "I think about the world we live in, how death comes for all of us regardless of how rich we are, how poor we may be…nothing matters!" He throws a hand up in the air.

"How morbid," you couldn't help but giggle.

"Ah, yes. But all the more reason to enjoy the life we've been given."

"Yes, yes…does stumbling in the forest fall into your definition of enjoying life?"

Hal sheepishly rubbed his chin. "I was on the run from some…not good people."

You raised an eyebrow.

"But that's all behind now, I'm sure Falstaff will act like nothing happened."

You were so engrossed with Hal's mock philosophy that you hadn't realized that you'd entered the town.

"Let me help you with that." Descending from your horse, you pushed the water pump a few times before it produced a clear stream of water.

"Thank you." Hal took some water in his hands and scrubbed the mud off of his face and hands.

"Would you like me to fetch some soap?"

"Don't need it."

You fiddled with the hem of your dress, turning your gaze to the rest of the town while Hal cleaned himself. There was a town crier, announcing something the king did, something about a potential war with France - how true was it, you didn't want to contemplate much. Vendors were selling their wares, announcing outrageously low prices in hopes of emptying their stock. It was nothing too unusual for this time of day.

Just then, Hal quickly removed his coarse shirt and splashed water on his bare shoulders, a few droplets falling onto his broad chest. His toned torso was completely free of blemishes, save for single a bruise. You didn't mean to stare, but…you did have some trouble taking your eyes off of him. And you didn't want to seem creepy by looking at him in the wrong way.

"It's almost sundown," you quietly said. "I should get going." You handed Hal a cloth to dry himself with, and in return he took your hand and kissed it.

"I'll never forget you for your kindness, my lady. Thank you."

"A pleasure, Hal." Trying to keep a straight face, you climbed back onto your horse and rode home.

"Perchance we'll meet again, my lady." Hal said to himself, repeating your name one more time.

#prince hal x reader #prince hal imagine #prince hal #prince hal fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagines #the hollow crown #henry v

127 notes · View notes

myfavouritelunatic · 1 year

Text

The Blacksmith

Before my week gets too crazy again, here’s an update! Hope you enjoy! ❤️😘

Pairing: Halbrand/Sauron x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Light/brief smut!

Links to Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Twenty-One, Twenty-Two, and Twenty-Three!

Chapter Twenty-Four

Despite your sullenness, the next few days were actually pleasant ones, days that made you forget who you really were. For you and Halbrand had remained true to your desire to be false with your new companions. At least for the moment. It was inevitable that they would discover the truth about the two of you once you reached Pelargir, as the Southlanders, perhaps Bronwyn and Arondir, would hopefully rejoice at the return of their king. You were deceiving them more for the normality it provided, the lack of tension, and perhaps sparing yourselves of the less favourable treatment that being completely honest would bring.

Garion was a very talkative fellow though, asking questions about where you hailed from, and what your background was. 'Hal' answered for the both of you, stating you were Númenóreans, heading back to Pelargir to make the journey home. When Garion pressed about the reasons for your trip to Middle-earth, you simply said, "Our business is our own." to which Halbrand deftly added, "What my love means to say, is that we were here visiting some of her family that left Númenor when she was a child. It was more emotional than she had anticipated. Some were lost."

Garion's face turned sorrowful and he offered his condolences. This put a stop to any further questions about your purpose in Middle-earth, a fact you were grateful to Halbrand for, as you did not wish to lie to these people any further. One afternoon, seated in the wagon, you looked on back as Halbrand was attempting to teach one of the children, a girl named Arianwen, how to ride your horse. You couldn't take your eyes off them as they slowly walked then trotted along on your steed. Olwenna caught you staring. "I used to looked at Garion like that, when I first met him." "Like what?" The lady laughed at you. "You know very well what like. Unless...” You smiled at her, blushing. "I have never felt this way about anyone I've ever met." "How long has it been now?"

Your brow furrowed a moment whilst you considered her question. All the days and nights had bled together, the passing of time was something you had not been keeping track of. Not since Halbrand had come into your life. "Maybe a month, close to two... I'm honestly not sure." "That's when you know it's been good. Days only need marking when something bad befalls us. So we don't forget our past, and we can learn from it." Olwenna spoke sagely. There had been some dark days of late, scattered amongst the bliss. Yet despite standing out in your memory more than the joyful occasions, they still fused together with them, your time loving Halbrand had been all encompassing, the good and the bad. The image of Halbrand before you, encouraging this young girl, smiling, looking proud as ever, it was a complete contrast to the image of him from only days before, covered in blood, cackling with devilish glee, destroying all life around him. They seemed to be two different people, yet they were one and the same. He was both king and dark lord. And you could not deny you loved it all, regardless of whether or not you should.

As luck would have it, your party came upon an inn on the side of the road, just as the sun was preparing to fall beneath the horizon. It was modest in appearance, the wood that formed it perhaps not constructed by experts, yet it didn't look like it would collapse either. The double storey building came across as both daring and impressive. It seemed a place welcoming of all kinds of people, no matter your standing or what deeds you might have committed before you crossed it's threshold. A bath... a bed... Your eyes gleamed at the thought of these comforts you had not had for quite some time. You prayed they had space enough for you all. Coming to a stop, Garion and Padrig made sure to secure the wagon and horses, before leading the way through the doors of the inn. Halbrand and yourself hung back, happy to let Garion do all the talking, preferring to hopefully go unnoticed amongst your companions, lest anyone recognise you.

"Evening, squire!" his affable voice boomed at the fellow stood behind the bar. "Would you happen to have room enough for us? Just for the night." You watched over Garion's shoulder as the barman counted your group, nervously clinging to your love. Making his assessment, he then made his offer. "I've got two rooms that should fit you alright, though it might be a little crowded." "Perfect, we'll take 'em. Thank you." Garion placed his payment at the hands of the barman, who proceeded to guide you up the stairs to your accommodation. "Once you're settled, you’re welcome to come downstairs for food, my cook is about to serve supper. Oh and there is a washroom down the hall should you need to take a bath." The barman smiled before wandering back down to his post, leaving you all to figure out the sleeping arrangements. The rooms were small, comprising of two beds in each, and a small wardrobe to store your property. This inn was modest inside and out.

"It seems the only way to do this is down the middle, five in each room. The kids have one bed, then Gisal and Owin in the other. Which leaves Padrig, our new friends, and Olwenna and myself. I'll take the floor, Padrig you can have the bed." "Uncle, I can sleep on the floor, I don't mind." "You're young, boy! I don't want your body achin' before it has to. Now, does that suit everyone?" There were smiles and nods all around, especially from the kids. It seems you were all grateful to have some respite from the wagon, only if for a night. Halbrand took your bag, placing it beside his in the wardrobe. The others headed down the stairs to feast, yet as you turned to follow, you felt Halbrand's touch hold you in place. Pulling you flush against him, he wrapped himself around you, kissing your cheek, your neck, before resting his head on your shoulder. You sighed, happy for the embrace.

"At last... a moment of isolation." he spoke, his voice low. "Oh how I've missed this feeling... just you and me... alone... your body against mine..." Halbrand's hands were wandering to places you ached for him to touch, his lips on your neck again. "My love..." "Yes?" he replied, barely interested in what you had to say. His mind was focusing on... more important matters at hand. "The door... it's open... oh..." you told him, gasping as his hand found where your womanhood lay beneath the layer of your dress. "And...?" he questioned, biting your ear lobe. You shuddered with delight and turned around to have his mouth collide with your own. It had been days since you had been able to lose yourself to him like this, and you missed it as much as he did.

The clearing of a throat entered the room, forcing the two of you apart, making you jump. "The children want to know if you'll be joining us for supper?" asked Olwenna, the biggest smirk on her face, trying not to laugh. "Sorry." Feeling your cheeks redden, your eyes averted her gaze as you answered her. "Of course. We'll be down in a moment." "Wonderful." She practically clicked her heels as she exited the room. "Oh goodness..." you exclaimed, Halbrand laughing at your embarrassment. You gave him a playful tap with the back of your hand, and he kissed you again, not wanting the moment to end. "Come on," you spoke between touches of lips, "Let's not keep your admirers waiting." Locking your fingers with his, the two of you made your way down to join the others.

This supper was the best food you had eaten since your feast with Elrond and Galadriel back in Eregion. Juicy meats filled with flavour, freshly baked soft bread, and boiled vegetables drenched in butter which included, of course, potatoes. It seemed one of the advantages of an inn situated on a road such as this meant that there was a constant flow of food and supplies passing through, and the people carrying these were more than happy to trade some of what they had for a warm bed to rest in.

The atmosphere was a cheerful and lively one, the tavern area filled to bursting with the occupants of the other rooms. A boisterous group of men were consistently clinking their cups of ale, laughing at the stories they were telling each other. You didn't catch every word of it, but it seemed they had been on some uproarious adventures. Across from them were a pair of women seated with two young boys, whose interactions you watched with fascination. The boys, clearly siblings, carried on with playful fuss that ceased the moment one of them started throwing peas at the other. Chastised by the woman that could only be his mother, you looked on as the other woman put her arm around her, which was acknowledged with a loving kiss to the top of her hand. They were a family. You couldn't help but smile at them.

Halbrand followed your eyes to what was holding their gaze. "Is there something else about you I do not know, my love?" he spoke cheekily, sipping his ale. "Have you known the love of a woman?" Blushing, you moved your smile to him, unsure of what words might pass your lips. "No... I haven't. But-" "But?" "I cannot deny I have desired it. There's just something..." you glanced back over at the women as you spoke, "There's a different beauty within them... a warmth, a tenderness, an elegance..." Your voice trailed off, your mind lost in thought. Catching yourself, you turned the discussion back on your love. "And what about you? You can't tell me you've existed as long as you have without laying with another man?" Halbrand chuckled, taking another swig of his ale. He admitted nothing, but he didn't need to, for the look on his face spoke volumes. You smirked at him, sipping your own ale, very satisfied with the exchange that had just taken place.

There were rumblings amongst the children for some kind of dessert, to which Garion adamantly replied, "We cannot take advantage of their hospitality. We should be grateful enough for this feast and not let greed become us." "Pleeeeeeeeease! Please please pleeeeeeease! Please!" Their voices in unison, a shrill cry to their leader that was clearly unwavering. Olwenna leaned over to her love, interjecting, "Perhaps you could at least inquire with the barman? It couldn't hurt, let them have a little treat, Garion, they've been through too much."

"Well I can't say no to you, can I?" Garion sighed. "Alright, alright, I'll ask." The kids cheered and you and Halbrand laughed at their joyfulness. It had been quite sobering to be around these innocent little creatures for the past few days. Almost as if they were a shield of light keeping the darkness at bay. A shield that grew stronger the further down the road you travelled, the further away from the shadow you were. Garion waltzed back over to your table, looking deflated. "I'm sorry children..." The collective 'awww's' from the young ones were not pleasant, but it seemed Garion was not done speaking. "They've only got blackberry pie!" The children cheered as the barman brought out three plates that held the sweet treat, and all of you were laughing at Garion's heartwarming deception.

"Anyone else?" offered the barman. A few of you rose your hands, and he counted again like before, taking his leave to quickly return with more servings. "None for you, Hal?" quizzed Garion. "No, I am quite full after that feast." spoke 'Hal', rising from his seat. "In fact I might take a bath before retiring for the evening." he announced, glancing at you, hinting. There was some unfinished business after all. Halbrand gulped the last of his ale, politely bowing his head to your companions before wandering over to the stairs. Olwenna caught your gaze then, as she was trying to make subtle facial gestures to encourage you to follow him. You stood rather abruptly, declaring to your companions, "Yes, I think I might do the same as well. Goodnight." you nodded, Olwenna unable to stifle a snicker at just how unsubtle you were. Hastily making your exit, you swore you could hear Garion mumble, "She could've just said she was going upstairs to-" "Shhh Uncle!" Padrig cut him off, groaning. "You don't need to say it!"

You couldn't help but giggle as you caught up with Halbrand on the stairs, and taking your hand, he lead you straight to the washroom, locking the door behind you.

Tagging: @starlady66 @denzit @restless-tides @coraleethroughthelookingglass @hikarielizabethbloom @heronamedhawks @michon-ne @vaguelyvibin @anemarie

#halbrand x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand/sauron x reader #halbrand #sauron #charlie vickers #the rings of power #trop #trop fanfic #lord of the rings #lotr

38 notes · View notes