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walkingintheheartbreaksatellite · 6 months

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Sky High(1)

(Harry Styles x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You take Harry to do something he never would have thought he’d do.

A/N: In honor of Balloon Fiesta season(aka my fav time of year) ITS TIME FOR BALLOONRRY! This has literally been spinning around in my brain since last December so yeah… enjoy.

Warnings: Judgmental family member, mentions of body shaming(only once), fear of heights, mentions of traumatic childhood and abusive parent (not in detail), Mentioned aged gap but not specified.

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London, Wednesday

Harry smiles as he shuffles around the house, throwing things in his suitcase.

“Hey Harry, don’t pack your puffer-.”

“Y/N, you said it was gonna be cold and that I should expect snow!”

“Yes but- your puffer is cotton. Which can catch on fire. And we’ll be operating a propane burner. And don’t pack your wool gloves either-. You know what, finish packing your clothes and then we’ll go get you everything else. I need new gloves anyways.”

He rolls his eyes and kisses my forehead before turning back to our dresser.

This year, Harry is joining me for a hot air balloon rally that I crew for with some of my family every year. I have never seen him more excited for something so boring.

After he finishes, he drags me out the door immediately and we head down to the shops.

“We need to go to Workwear. They should have everything.”

He nods and grips my hand as we walk down the chilly streets. Harry grabs the door and we head inside. Harry bites his lip, a bit reluctant at his unfamiliar atmosphere.

“Come on, dork. Let’s go find you a jacket.”

I manage to find a nylon and polyester jacket that he’s satisfied with, though he complains that he’d rather his puffer.

“I know- you can pack it but you can’t wear it when we’re crewing or Bob will never let us hear the end of it.”

I grab a few pairs of nylon gloves before dragging him over to the shoes.

“Boots, love? Really?”

I snort and nod my head.

“We’re carrying heavy equipment. Your Vans won’t work. You could drop something and seriously hurt your foot. Hence the steel-toed boots. And they’ll keep you warm. Trust me.”

He nods and we head to the checkout, excitement rushing through us at our week ahead.

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

Thursday

As soon as we land in Albuquerque, we quickly pick up our bags and our rental car before getting on the road. We get settled on the highway and Harry turns on cruise control, taking my hand in his while driving with the other. My hands start to shake more and I sigh.

“You’re shaking Y/N. Why are you shaking?”

I let out another sigh and I look at him.

“My father might be there… And my brother and sister. You haven’t met them… And honestly I don’t really talk to them. So I guess I’m just nervous. And you’ve never met my granny or her husband- And since you’re helping crew for Andrew… I don’t know… Just a lot going on.”

He lifts my hand up and kisses the back of it before he squeezes it. His eyes remain on the road but his words make me tear up.

“I know you’re not particularly looking forward to all of that- But I’m here. I’m always here. And your mum. You know she won’t let him do anything to you. I will be the perfect Angel that I always am-.”

I snort and he gives me a playful side eye.

“As I was saying- everything will be just fine. Okay? So let’s have fun. I’m definitely excited. And happy to see your mum again.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand again before turning his attention back to the road. After about 2 hours, Harry gets off at the exit and it only takes us a minute to get to our hotel. He parks next to my mom’s car and we get out. She gets out of her car and rushes over to Harry, pulling him into a hug as he laughs and smiles.

“Oh my god, Harry! I’ve missed you! Look at you! You look great!”

He laughs and hugs my mom back for a minute before they pull away.

“I’m great, Kelly. How are you?”

She nods and gives him a smile before she pulls me into a hug as well.

“Hi my babies.”

I smile and hug her, rolling my eyes at Harry as he laughs.

“Hi mama.”

She pulls away and shoves her hands in her pockets.

“You both doing okay? Taking care of each other? You look good but you know I worry.”

I smile and nod.

“We’re fine. Harry is very excited.”

Harry nods and wraps an arm around my waist, his smile clear as day. We stand by the car, talking to my mom for a few minutes when my grandmother pulls up. Her husband gets out of the truck and gets her walker out, setting it up as she gets out. Not ready to face her, I drag Harry inside to check in and get our room keys.

We collect our keys and walk up the stairs to our room.

“Love, I really don’t think you need to avoid her-.”

“You know how frustrating she is! The woman flat out told me when I was 16 that it was my fault that my mother was depressed! Because somehow I could control who she slept with to create me!”

He wraps his arms around me and kisses my head.

“I know love, I know. But you know your mum won’t let her do anything. Did you pack your meds?”

I huff and just shrug. He holds me for a minute, rubbing my back before he decides we need to go downstairs and get our bags. He drags me down the stairs and out to the car where, surprise surprise, my grandmother is. I elect to ignore her, opening the back to start grabbing bags. My mom pulls us over to them as I huff in frustration.

“Mom, this is Harry, Y/N’s boyfriend. Harry, this is my mom, May and her husband Andrew. You’ll meet Bob later. He’ll be crewing with us.”

Harry shakes my granny’s hand as well as Andrew’s when my grandmother adverts her gaze to me.

“Sweetie, what did I say about all that eating you do? It’s not good for your figure. I mean look at you-. And did you get that job I sent you the link to?”

I sigh and shake my head, squeezing Harry’s hand to calm me down before answering her.

“Granny, that job was in Arizona. I live in London, remember? And I have a job. I work at a publishing firm, remember? And I like it.”

Before she can say respond, Andrew interrupts her.

“How about we all get settled in our rooms? We’ll meet back here in the parking lot at 6:30 to go check in?”

We all nod and head inside. Before we enter our room, my mom puts her hand on my shoulder, and I turn to face her.

“You two go ahead and have to time with each other for the night. We don’t all need to go to check in and I know you’re not exactly ready to see him. I’ll text you what time we need to meet in the morning.”

Harry smiles and hugs my mom and I let out a heavy sigh.

“Thank you, Kelly. I’ll take care of our girl. She’ll be fine.”

My mom kisses my forehead and squeezes my shoulder before she heads into her room and disappears behind the door. Harry pulls me into our room and pulls me into a tight hug as soon as the door closes. He rubs my back and I let out a sigh.

“How about we go on a walk after we get settled in love? Think that would help? Or are you in the stuff your face with sweets until you pass out kind of mood?”

I shake my head as I hang up my jacket.

“I’m actually in the take a hot shower and then cuddle with my hot boyfriend until I fall asleep kind of mood.”

Harry flashes me a bright smile and hugs me as he hangs up his jacket.

“You take your shower. I’ll run to the vending machines and get some sweets. When you’re done, we can head to bed.”

He kisses my forehead and leaves the room. I grab some sweats and a soft top before heading into the shower.

By the time I’m done, my hair in a wet braid and teeth brushed as I walk out in my soft clothes, Harry is already in bed, scrolling on his phone. He looks up and smiles, pecking my lips softly when I get into bed.

“Your sweets are in the fridge, let me brush my teeth and I’ll turn the light out.”

I nod and curl up into bed as I wait for him. Not 5 minutes, he’s back in bed, pulling me close before he turns out the light.

“Are you gonna be okay, love? You’ve been tense since we got here.”

I sigh and bury my head in his chest.

“I’m nervous… And honestly I haven’t been feeling that well lately so maybe that’s just not helping. And with the stress of seeing him, and of course my granny, I guess I’ve just been a little off. But I’m really glad you’re here… I’m excited for you to meet my sister. She’s a-.”

“A pain in the ass, you’ve mentioned.”

“But you’ll like her! We fought a lot when we were kids of course but we got closer in high school. You’ll love her!”

He laughs and squeezes me tight.

“I could never love anyone as much as I love you. But I’m sure she’s great. Just keep thinking of all the positives, remember? You love this town, you love this time of year, don’t let them take that excitement from you. And I am very excited to experience this with you. Now let’s get some sleep, okay?”

I smile and curl up into his arms before slowly falling asleep.

Friday 05:30

So put your best face on everybody

Pretend you know this song everybody

Come hang (Come hang)

Let's go out with a bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!-

I wake up to my alarm going off as I feel butterfly kisses on my cheeks. I wake up to see Harry, planting soft kisses all over my face before he smiles when he sees I’m awake.

“Time to get up, love. We have to be downstairs in 30 minutes.”

I groan and wrap my arms around his neck as I sigh.

“Can you just tell them I died or something? Or better yet we both did? I don’t want to go into the cold… I wanna stay here and cuddle.”

He laughs and shakes his head, pecking my lips before he pulls me up.

“Well, your mum is bringing coffee in like 10 minutes so you have to be alive if you want some of that. Because I do.”

I laugh and shake my head as I get up from the bed, pulling clothes out of my bag before I start to change. Harry and I are quickly dressed by the time my mom knocks on the door and Harry happily accepts the coffee.

The second I smell it, I get nauseous and I run to the toilet, throwing up. I hear Harry sigh and he comes into the bathroom, throwing my hair up in a clip before he starts to rub my back. I throw up a few minutes before I flush, slowly standing up so I can rinse and brush my teeth.

From the corner of my eye, I see my mom with a worried expression on her face.

“How long has that been going on, Y/N/N?”

I shrug and wipe my mouth, turning out the bathroom light before fixing my hair quickly.

“A couple weeks I guess. I’m never running a temp so I figured they were just random waves of nausea.”

She sighs and shakes her head.

“I think you should take a test.”

My eyes widen and I look at her.

“You think I could be-.”

Harry and I share a look, one filled with anxiety.

My mom only nods and rubs my back in comfort.

“When we come back after breakfast, I’ll go get you a few tests and you can take them and we’ll go from there, okay? Just try not to stress about it.”

We only nod and she leaves only a minute after. Harry lays back down and holds his arms open to me and I immediately lay in his arms, holding back tears.

“What are we-.”

“Shhh. Everything will be just fine, love. No matter what. If you’re pregnant, we’ll handle it. And if not… maybe it’s just not the right time. Either way, I’m not going anywhere. We will figure this out. Together.”

He kisses my head and rubs my back as we lay there for a few more minutes before we finally head out to the parking lot. We all hop into the van, the vehicle filled with silence as we make the small journey to the lift off field. After about 10 minutes, Andrew parks the van and gets out, meeting Bob outside so the can attend the pilot’s meeting. Harry squeezes my hand and gives me an anxious look.

“So… we just wait? I thought we would all be getting out and that’s when the hard work starts.”

My mom and I laugh and I shake my head before I peck his cheek.

“No, there’s always. Just a little waiting. They have about a 30 minute pilot meeting to determine whether or not we can fly. Based on the wind, I don’t think that’s gonna happen. Right now, if we flew, we’d flop around and lose control.”

He laughs and nods. As expected, when they come back from the meeting, we aren’t able to fly. Andrew makes the decision to head to breakfast rather than still inflating like most were doing, even though we couldn’t fly. We pull into the parking lot of an almost empty diner and finally get out of the van. We eat breakfast, Harry and I sharing a plate since I really wasn’t in the mood to eat much.

The minute we get back to the hotel, my mom runs to her car and takes off, no doubt to go buy me tests. After about 20 minutes, she comes back with a knock on our door. She hands me the bag and I let out a shaky sigh.

“I’m sure you know how to use these… I’ll give you two some space. Call me if you need me sweet girl.”

She kisses my forehead and squeezes Harry’s shoulder before leaving the room. We’re quiet for a few minutes before Harry sits next to me on the bed, taking my hand in his, squeezing it before he raises our joint hands to his lips, softly kissing the back of my hand.

“I meant what I said, Y/N. No matter what the results are… we’re gonna be okay.”

I sigh and start to tear up.

“Are we even ready for this-.”

He sighs and puts a finger on my lips, silencing me.

“We’ll figure it out love. Just like we have with everything else. Alright? Now go take those tests. We can cuddle when you finish and we’ll wait for the results.”

I sigh and stand up, taking the tests into the bathroom. I take all 4 and place them on the counter, letting out a shaky sigh. I wash my hands and take a quiet minute to myself before opening the door and flinging myself on the bed and into Harry’s arms, causing him to laugh. Harry sets a timer on his phone before he puts it back on the nightstand and cuddles close to me, kissing my head.

“Are you hoping for certain results…?”

Harry is quiet for a minute before he turns to me with a small smile.

“Well… If you are pregnant… I would be extremely happy. I mean we’ve been together for 3 years and we live together. And besides… I want a little you… I’ve thought about it on and off… And maybe that can happen now. If you’re not… I don’t know… Maybe it’s something we could talk about? I mean… obviously I’m not getting younger despite how hot and young the girl next to me is…”

I laugh and nudge him playfully as he laughs and hugs me. He pecks little kisses all over my face before he starts to tickle me. He towers over me, determined to tickle more, but is interrupted by the timer on his phone going off. My face pales and we both sit up. He turns off the timer and we sit quietly for a minute before Harry speaks up.

“We’ll do it together…”

He takes my hand and pulls me up before he walks to the bathroom. We share a look and nod in agreement before looking at the tests. Positive. All positive. I turn to him, tears in my eyes, as are his as he quickly pulls me into his arms and hold me tight. After a minute, he pulls away and kisses me passionately as he holds me close. When we pull away for air, we share a small laugh and he hugs me once again.

“God I just- We’re having a baby! I love you! We need to call mum! And Gem! We need-!”

I laugh and shake my head.

“Let’s try to find some onesies here… Maybe we can surprise them. But we should go tell my mom since- of course she knows and she’s probably dying to know.”

He laughs and nods. We leave our hotel room and head over to my mom’s room, softly knocking on the door. She opens it and immediately lets us in.

“We’ll…?!”

We laugh and she glares at me.

“Okay okay… I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.”

She tears up and hugs the both of us tightly.

“I’m gonna be a grandma again!!!”

I shush her and put my finger on her lips to shut her up.

“Hush! There’s people here we don’t want knowing!”

She nods and I remove my finger. Her phone pings and she picks it up, reading it before she looks up at us.

“Your grandmother wants to go shopping and Andrew wants to know if you guys are going to dinner tonight.”

Harry and I share a look and I sigh, falling back into his arms with a groan.

“Tell them we’re still jet lagged. I don’t want to deal with her tonight.”

She laughs and nods, hugging the both of us before she leaves our room. For the rest of the night, we cuddle and talk a little about the baby until I finally fall asleep, drifting into my dreams of hoping for a bright beginning.

And in the back of my head, I knew that this weekend was going to be a whirlwind.

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Please like and reblog! And please let me know what you thought!

Tag List

@be-with-me-so-happily @swiftmendeshoran @babyiamperfectforyou @freedomfireflies @kaminokatie @harrysmimi @violetsandfluff @fruitmans @fruitmansrecs @harringtons-honey @rafaaoli @kimmi-kat @erggggggggg @cayleyhannha-blog @acesofspadess @that-mcu-fan @styles-barnes-bitch @purple9950 @justmystyles @itslottiehere

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corporatefrog · 1 year

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꒦‧₊ ꒷ HEADCANNONS: team craig with a rich friend!✧.*

✧.* tags: college au, ✧.* Characters: craig tucker, tweek tweek, jimmy valmer, clyde donovan, tolkien black a/n: this just made me want to be rich so that's what im doing. you'll never hear from me again because im only getting those gains (jk im working minimum wage rn ;-;)

masterlist

Tolkien

You guys are BALLING together

You literally SPARKLE when you walk down the street

He probably loves having someone else to talk to about like,, idk rich people stuff?

When his dad buys the farm across the street from the marsh’s he literally comes to stay at your palace

No fucking way are those cuticles getting ruined by working on a fucking weedfarm

“Then he starts using this ridiculous voice just to piss off Stan’s dad”

“No. fucking. Way.”

“Yes way, and now he’s actually selling the shit to other people”

“That’s actually rancid”

Clyde

He thinks he was meant to be born rich

Another one who will do lit rally whatever for some cash

Not because he needs the money

Just because he has zero self respect

He's the type of person to say yes to anything for the experience

definitely a "do it for the vine" type of person

and you happily oblige

"are you free saturday?"

"well i had a work shift"

"I'll give you $300 to skydive with me"

"quitting my job rn brb"

Craig

He does not give a fuck

He enjoys watching you boss cartman around though

He’ll make loud suggestions that he knows you’ll hear so cartman will do something stupid

“Wow it sure is snowing out there. That would really ruin a pair of limited edition suede steve madden boots”

“Oh no! I’m wearing my limited edition suede steve madden boots!”

“That’s a shame. If only there were a way to plow the snow off all of the sidewalks and parking lot you could get to your car without ruining them”

“IM ON IT”

Cue cartman slipping on icey pavement for the next 3 hours

Tweek

Large sums of money freak him out so much

You spend more than $200 at once and he’s SCREAMING

“WHAT WILL YOU DO FOR RETIREMENT FUNDS?!”

“What’s a retirement fund? I have a piggy bank that my daddy puts all the interest from my birthday money into”

“WHAT HOW ARE YOU USING A PIGGY BANK FOR ALL YOUR MONEY THAT’S SO UNSAFE!!”

“It’s a metaphorical piggy bank duh! You can’t fit 15 million in a piggy bank silly”

“15 MILLION?!”

He was out of commission for the rest of the day trying to figure out how many hours of work it would be to make 15 million dollars

Jimmy

You think he’s so fucking funny

He’s a funny little guy!

You are his perfect audience

He loves to make you laugh! And you love to laugh! So it’s perfect

You probably end up bringing him to a charity dinner or something and having him tell stand up

Aka his DREAM

Imagine him sitting in a private jet or something with a nametag that just says "funny man" on it

and he's loving every second of it

#south park #south park x reader #south park headcanons #corporatefrog #tolkien black #jimmy valmer #clyde donovan #craig tucker #tweek

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slowestlap · 2 years

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Rovanperä and Halttunen testing for Toyota in Finland, in preparation for Rally Sweden next month | 26 january 2022 | [video credit]

Bonus:

#kalle rovanpera #kalle rovanperä #jonne halttunen #wrc #wrcedit #snow + rally cars >>>> anything else #it looks so cool and he's so fast #mywrcgifs

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cellsshapedlikestars · 3 years

Note

If you are accepting prompts--how about Sansa and Jon being on opposite sides of a political contest? Prime Minister Rhaegar Targaryen is forced to call a referendum for Northern independence, as demanded by the Northern Nationalists party. He is campaigning in the North for a United Westeros, taking his second wife Lyanna Stark and their son Jon along, toshow how hollow all talk if Northern independence is. However, this means that Jon keeps running into his Stark cousins, particularly Sansa Stark, who accompanies her parents to every debate and campaign rally...

I've been sitting on this for a while (and yes, I do see all the anon prompts, I promise!) and I've sort of been writing this on and off since I got it. The thing is, I have no point of reference for these politics, I'm assuming you wanted something like the Scottish independence movement, which I have almost no knowledge of as I am a dumb American who can barely handle American politics without spiraling into anxiety and depression. So, I've sort of talked around the specifics and hopefully I haven't gotten anything too crazy wrong.

Also, you mention his Stark cousins, but... well, I cannot do modern incest. I can handle them being cousins in olden times where it was acceptable & common (I can't even handle the sibling incest aspect in any time period), but I was writing this modern and that's a hard nope for me. I know it's a fairly predominant part of this fandom and if it's your thing, absolutely have at it! There is no kink shaming in this house. It's just not for me and I couldn't write it, sorry!

Also, as usual, this turned out longer than I intended since these are supposed to be drabbles mostly. But 'drabbles' for me always end up like 2k words

Jon sits in the window seat of the jet, headphones on and turned up. Somewhere behind him, he knows his parents are sitting, likely talking strategy. He knows dad wants him to join in, but Jon's in no mood to talk politics. It's what got him in this situation to begin with.

That stupid reporter. Jon's stupid response.

Jon! How do you feel about Northern Independence?

I say let them.

It's what he believes, honestly – if the North wants independence, why not? The rest of the SK treats them like shit anyway, why not let them break off, like Dorne did? It's not a naming issue – they're still called the Seven Kingdoms despite losing Dorne decades ago, so what if they're technically only six now? Jon knows it's about more than that – it's economics and politics and... well, pride. The SK can't lose another piece of their kingdom – nevermind that piece has been conquered and beaten down multiple times over hundreds of years. Northern Independence isn't a new concept – it's just been met with military resistance every time and stamped out. But they aren't in the middle ages anymore.

For a moment he turns his head to look behind him – to see mom with her head bowed in conversation with dad and something ugly twists in Jon's stomach.

He knows dad only married mom because she got pregnant – because his political career was just taking off and a mistress and bastard would have ruined him. And mom, she'd been so young, she's convinced herself he married her for love. Jon swears that mom used to be different. She used to argue with Rhaegar all the time about politics, he even remembers her bringing up Northern Independence when Jon was just a kid. But over the years she's had to play the perfect wife for him and somewhere along the way it just... stuck. Mom isn't his mom anymore. No, mom is what Rhaegar's political advisors want her to be.

So even though Jon had wanted to protest this trip, there's also a part of him desperately clinging to the hope that when they get North, mom will snap out of it. When she's home, maybe she'll be his mom again.

Especially since the leader of the opposition is an old friend of hers.

Ned Stark.

Dad doesn't react to much, he's a politician to his core, so seeing him get riled anytime Ned Stark is on TV is notable. In fact, there's a rebellious part of Jon that already likes Ned Stark simply for the fact that dad hates him so much. There's more to like than just that, Jon knows – Ned Stark seems like one of those politicians that's doing the job because they want to make a difference. They're rare, nowadays, but Jon's been surrounded by politicians his whole life and he can spot the do-gooders from a mile away.

He thinks it's partly why dad hates it – Ned Stark doesn't use the same underhanded tactics Rhaegar's used to, and from everything Jon's heard, there's nothing to use against Ned. The only skeleton dad's advisors had ever found tucked away in Ned Stark's closet had been that his wife, Catelyn, had originally dated his older brother Brandon, who died in a car accident. They'd begun dating and married shortly after - a minor scandal that hadn't gained any traction, considering they've been married for over twenty years with five children.

Dad was hoping to get somewhere with the youngest daughter, Arya, who always seemed more wild than the rest of her siblings (except maybe the youngest, Rickon). The problem is that she's never done anything really wrong and the North loves her. The oldest son Robb is as perfect a son as any politician could hope for and Jon sometimes wonders if dad would rather have Robb than Jon.

The other two sons are still fairly young and going after them would only make dad look like the bad guy. Then there's Sansa.

Jon remembers her from growing up – not that he'd ever met her, but they're both kids of prominent politicians and he's seen her in photos since she was old enough to walk. A proper lady, he remembers even the southern press naming her. Perfect, just like her older brother.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts and he turns to see mom, who motions at him to take off his headphones.

“We're landing in a half hour and your father would like to go over your role,” she tells him with a perfect, bland smile. (She hasn't been his mother for a very long time.)

“I know my role,” he says and he can't help the bitter tone to his voice. “Stay quite, don't talk to the press. Pretty easy to remember.”

“And yet you still managed to nearly undermine my entire campaign with one flippant remark,” dad's voice calls over from his seat, low and smooth, though Jon absolutely hears the annoyance underneath it.

“Oh, he's just a child,” mom says, trying to play the peacekeeper like she always does.

“He's twenty, he's hardly a child,” dad starts, but Jon doesn't listen to the rest. He pulls his headphones back over his ears and looks back out the window and tries to pretend he's anywhere else.

…

By the time they reach Winterfell Castle, Jon is in a bad mood.

Not that he hadn't been before, but he's not allowed his headphones in the limo and so he'd had to listen to dad talk nonstop about his two favorite topics: Jon's failure as a son and how much he hates Ned Stark. And the way mom doesn't even try to defend Ned Stark like she used to infuriates Jon even more.

Jon hates his tuxedo and he hates that they barely had any time between landing and having to get ready for this dinner and he hates that he's going to have to smile and shake hands with a bunch of people who hate him on principle, simply for who his father is. For what his father represents.

When he does step out of the limo, he ignores every photographer and reporter that shouts his name, eager to get any sort of scandal out of him.

He doesn't blame them for this, he's given them enough over the years – not just his apparent support of Northern Independence, but everything else he's done to gain his notoriety. His reputation as a heartbreaker and a playboy that's mostly over-exaggerated, that time he punched a teacher (though to be fair, Thorne deserved it)... Teenage rebellion, they'd written it off as, but he's no longer a teenager and he knows he should grow up and stop doing things to piss off his father at some point.

(His favorite one had been sleeping with that investigative journalist when he was seventeen. She'd been older than him by a good few years and he'd known she was using him to write an article, but he was using her just as much to infuriate his father. His only true regret is that Ygritte's article hadn't done any real lasting damage to Rhaegar's reputation.)

Inside, there aren't any reporters but there are politicians everywhere and that's worse. He does the bare minimum to not cause an issue – he shakes hands and says hello, though he refuses to smile while doing it. They already hate him for being Rhaegar Targaryen's son. They already hate him for being Northern-traitor Lyanna Snow's son.

He keeps an eye on mom to see how she's doing and his heart twists painfully in his chest when he sees her. She has a bright smile on her face and anyone who didn't know her would think she's fine, but Jon can see how pale she is under her makeup. This is the first time she's been back in the North since she married dad and he has a sudden, sharp pang of hatred for Rhaegar – for getting her pregnant, for marrying her, for never letting her go back. For turning her into this.

He can tell the moment Ned Stark enters the room because mom freezes. And sure enough, there he is – beautiful wife at his side, the three adult children with him. Robb, Sansa, Arya. Jon's eyes scan over them – Robb with his perfect hair and smile, an easy way about him that's always come through even on camera. Sansa standing poised and almost too beautiful to believe – Jon's only ever seen her on film and somehow she's even more unreal in person. Arya, who by all accounts hates politics as much as Jon does, stands firmly by her family and Jon gets the sense she only hates the system, not her dad. Not like Jon.

As Jon scans the room, he can see other families here that he recognizes – the Greyjoys, including Robb Stark's best friend Theon. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Ryswells, the Boltons, the Mormonts. More families than Jon cares to remember.

There's a sense of someone behind him and he turns just enough to see that dad has come up to stand next to him. For a moment, dad just stands there before turning his head ever so slightly and bringing his mouth close to Jon's ear and he says so low Jon can barely even hear it - “if you do anything to embarrass me tonight, there will be consequences. If you do anything that makes it seem like you support this pathetic independence movement, there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”

Jon feels blind rage that winds so hot in his chest it makes him shake and his vision narrow. He has to close his eyes and take a deep breath before he can answer, and he grits out, “of course.” Dad nods and moves away, putting on his best politician smile as he goes to greet Howland Reed.

Mom shoots him a concerned look, but Jon ignores her. He can feel it building in him – that rebelliousness the press likes to talk about so much. He wants to hurt Rhaegar. For everything – for his mother, for all the people dad's stepped on and hurt. He wants to embarrass him, consequences be damned.

Just as he's thinking this, his eyes catch on copper hair and bright blue eyes.

Sansa Stark.

Darling of the press. Perfect Northern princess.

It takes root in his mind, against his better judgment. What would make Rhaegar more furious than an affair between his son and the daughter of Ned Stark?

Jon can't imagine Sansa would be amenable to the suggestion, not like Ygritte had been – there is no mutually beneficial agreement here. She would never agree to do something that might embarrass her father (and once again, Jon is reminded of the, pun intended, stark difference between his relationship with his father and the Stark children's relationship with Ned. Jon has never even met them in person and he knows this).

So he can't approach her with any sort of offer or plan. No, he'd have to pretend it was real.

He's going to have to seduce Sansa Stark.

#jonsa #prompt fic #ask #oooh boy do i know nothing of politics #and political families #do not @ me #is this boring?#probably #jonsa fic

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rallyrecce · 2 years

Text

Rally Sweden 2022 A-Z - Part 2

Neuville – the Belgian boy claimed victory here with Hyundai back in 2018.

"I'm a little teapot short and stout..."

Oliver Solberg – fresh from his win for Norway, with his papa Petter, in the Race of Champions, Swedish Solberg will be hoping for a better outcome than in Monte Carlo, where he was plagued by fumes entering the cabin of the car. His stage end interviews confirmed that it definitely wasn’t laughing gas being pumped into the car! He was a Super Trooper to carry on as long as he did.

Plug-In Charger – new hybrid technology means that the cars need to be plugged back into the mains once they return to service for the night, like some old iPhone.

Puma – M-Sport’s new offering topped the tables in Monte Carlo and looked damn fine doing it (that livery though, oof). Toyota and Hyundai’s ugly sisters showed great speed and proved that we’re going to witness a good fight for that glass slipper/WRC crown.

A wild Puma in the snow.

Queen Silvia – Mother of Prince Carl Philip, Duke of Värmland, who has been a regular around the service park for many years. Despite the move up north, this year will be no different and the handsome prince will be in attendance at the royal ball, or inauguration as it’s actually known.

The Prince and the King.

Quick - despite the wintry conditions the drivers still put on a high speed show.

Räksmörgås– Swedish open sandwiches.

Roads – the drivers will take on lots of long straights with Finlandesque sweeping corners and crests.

Red Barn Arena – Friday and Saturday’s stages will finish with the fan friendly Umeå sprint which ends in the Red Barn Arena. Bring moonshine and your sister/wife for the barn dance, yeehaw.

Stig Blomqvist - this old school homeboy has kicked ass here more than anyone else, with 7 wins over the whole history of the rally (5 of those when it was a WRC event) and to keep it super Swedish 5 of these wins were behind the wheel of a Saab.

Skogstokig – translates as ‘forest crazy’ and is the equivalent of ‘mad as a hatter’. I think this can be applied to the Swedish spectators and a lot of the drivers.

Even Santa comes out to cheer on the teams.

Surströmming – that Swedish delicacy of fermented sour Baltic herring, sounds delicious. Stick some in the back of the cars, it will serve as both a motivational tool to get them to the end of the stage quicker and a tasty picnic snack if they end up in a snowbank.

Tyres - Super skinny studs are the order of the day, anything else would leave you flailing around like a lycra clad, Z-list celebrity on their first day on ‘Dancing on Ice’.

Weird looking hedgehog.

Utfart - We hope nobody crashes and has to utfart - Swedish for exit.

Umeå – the new home of the WRC’s only winter rally, based in Värmland since 1973, it has moved north to this European city of culture.

Vikings - they don't seem to be into all that violence and pillaging anymore and often come out to support their countrymen.

Vasterbotten – the host county of the rally. Has its own cheese. Tastes like salty, bitter Parmesan apparently. Remind me to stick some of that on my räksmörgås with a bit of surströmming. Delicious.

Windscreen – you would think that this is a necessity for driving in the snowy conditions – not for Oliver Solberg’s favourite fun uncle, Henning. Back in 2006, the wild man got his co-driver to kick out the windscreen completely following a fight with a snow bank. Made for excellent air conditioning and a stage end interview looking like a snowman.

"Yeah I get a really good view now and it's a weight saver."

Xsara – back in 2004, it was little Sebastien Loeb who piloted his Xsara to victory, becoming the first Frenchman, and non-Scandinavian in the history of Rally Sweden, to climb on to the top step of the podium.

"No officer, I am normally a very slow and careful driver"

Youngest – and it was in 2008 when Jari-Matti Latvala took the top spot and with it the record for the youngest ever winner of a WRC event. This was subsequently snatched away from him in 2021 by young whippersnapper, Kalle Rovanpera. Don’t be surprised if he loses it to little Tim Kaiser-Ogier in the next year or two.

Zara Larsson, Zlatan Ibrahimović– Swedish people who do songs and kick balls around etc. If you have better Z entry, let me know.

#wrc 2022 #wrc #m-sport #rally #sebastien loeb #world rally championship #toyota gazoo racing #hyundaii20 #thierry neuville

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

Deal with the Devil: Ch. 6

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Death, Angst.

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Isla Maxwell (OC)

Word Count: 1,808

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | *7* | 8 | 9 | 10

“Dear Mr. Shelby,

I apologize for not responding sooner. I had an old family friend pass away suddenly. Despite this, I’d like to thank you for the payment and would like to let you know that I accept your offer as well. Seeing as our partnership is detrimental to the task ahead of us. Meet me at the address below at midnight this Friday.

- “I.”

Thomas’ eyes scanned the letter, the address oddly familiar as he shoved it in the pocket of his coat. The cold winter air hitting his face as he walked to his car.

“Are you sure about this Tom?” Polly asked from her doorway. His son Charlie and daughter Ruby glancing at him from behind her as they’d stayed up way past their bedtime.

“Yes. I’ll see you all tomorrow. Be good for aunt Polly you two. I don’t want to call your mum.” He said, watching them nodding and waving goodbye. It was his weekend with Ruby, and Charlie loved spending time with his half-sister, but just like anything else in the life of Thomas Shelby, nothing ever went according to plan.

As his car crunched along the snow covered ground, he saw the familiar gate he’d pulled up to weeks before. The morgue sitting in the distance just past the plethora of tombstones.

As he walked further, he saw movement in one of the small windows of the building, knowing it was either the odd mortician or the person he’d been corresponding with for weeks.

With a cold hand, he reached for the letter, reading the instructions written on the bottom. He knocked five times as instructed, waiting as he heard light footsteps inside. The door opened with a creaking noise revealing a woman, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight as she clutched her black coat around her.

“Mr. Shelby?” She asked quietly, her face blank and emotionless despite the life in her eyes.

“Yes. Am I at the wrong place miss?” He asked, looking around, seeing a fire burning in what seemed to be an incinerator of sorts.

“No. I’m glad you’re here.” She said, locking the door behind them as she sat down in the small room, lighting a cigarette.

“Are you...?” He started to ask before being interrupted.

“I? Yes. Nice to meet you.” She said, shaking his hand firmly as he sat down before her.

“You’re not what I was expecting. You can call me Tommy by the way.” He said, taking his own cigarette out and lighting it.

“And what were you expecting Tommy? A man?” She scoffed, shaking her head in amusement. No one would ever suspect a woman it seemed, but that worked to her advantage more often than not.

“What’s your name then aye? I’ve already paid you.” He questioned, looking at her with an eyebrow slightly raised.

“Isla.” She answered, for once saying her name without the fear of being outed.

“Well, Isla. I’ve got to say, your work was...impressive. But I came here to discuss our plans. Where’s Mosley holding his next rally?” He asked.

“Hold your horses love. So many questions for such a smart man...” she said, taking a sip of her whiskey as she stared into his cold blue eyes.

“Want some?” She asked. He nodded and relaxed in his seat, the heat from the incinerator warming the medical room as he waited for an answer.

“About an hour before I slit their throats, the three missing men mentioned the races over at Cheltenham. Telling me that Mosley liked the look of the place, knowing it had room for lots of people...” She said, swirling the brown liquid in her glass as she handed him the other.

“And?”

“And, the men I shot the other night had papers on it. They said it was going to be the largest rally yet. But I’m sure you’re aware of that right Tommy?” She asked, an edge to her tone.

“What do you mean?” He asked, gulping down the alcohol as she got up.

“I have informants who like to do their research. I know you’ve met with him many times before on business, and of course after his failed assassination. It’s only reasonable to assume he gave you a lead on his future rallies and other meetings. Tell me Tommy...were all of your interactions with him to try to make a truce or to gain information? Since you’re in parliament and all it must’ve been important for some reason right?” She asked, her hand casually reaching for her knife.

“I met with him to gain information. I wouldn’t have came here if it was for a truce. This wouldn’t have been happening if there was one. Out of all people I think you’d know who’s side I’m on.” He said, his eyes darting towards the knife.

“Just thought I’d ask. Can’t have a partner of mine going behind my back.” She said, twirling the knife as she walked towards him.

Thomas tensed slightly as she came closer, pressing her knife to his throat suddenly. Her perfume catching his attention as she pushed it further, knicking his neck lightly before he clutched her wrist and got up, pushing her towards the wall. An excited look overcame her eyes as she chuckled, leaning into the knife a bit as they stared into each others eyes. With a heavy breath Thomas closed his eyes to regain his composure, letting go of her and sitting back down. As she put the knife back in her sheath, she laughed softly and walked past him. His eyes following her to a table where more bloodied papers and a journal were sitting, watching her pick them up and sitting them on his lap with a thud.

“I only have the life of one man on my mind Tommy, so don’t worry. I’m not going to take yours. Although...I’m sure having a grave dug for you would be fairly easy to do around here.” She said smirking.

“You’re insane.” He said, looking at her with skeptical eyes as he placed the pile of papers on the table, wiping away the small trickle of blood down his neck.

“So are you. No one of sane mind goes after Oswald Mosley.” She said.

“Why do you want to kill him?” He asked, looking at the papers. Isla didn’t answer for a moment, sighing as she retrieved a cigarette from her coat, lighting it quickly before speaking.

“Mosley orchestrated a fire that killed my whole family in front of me. I was 20 when it happened.” She said briefly, lifting the arm of her coat up to show him the ragged scar up her arm.

His fingers gently touched the raised skin, his hand finding hers as he studied it. She hated showing people but if she had to trust someone, she figured it could be him, seeing as he was the only other person with enough courage to go after the man who harmed her.

Before he could look any longer, she pulled her arm away, hiding it once again with her sleeve.

“So you’re the one that was left then aye? I remember seeing it in the paper.” He remarked.

“Mhmm. My father tried to stop some of his men from being assholes. So instead of just fucking off somewhere else, they all came by and set fire to the whole house...and the man that was beaten to death the other day was my fathers friend who took me in and helped teach me everything after it happened. And now I’m here...no one to my fucking name.” She said blankly. Flipping through some of the pages she’d gathered.

Thomas sat there as he watched her, her brows focused on her work as she closed herself off. He’d had his fair share of heartbreak and pain, knowing the look all too well. Images of Grace and Lizzie flashing in his mind for a moment until she spoke.

“Didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I don’t get out much.” She said, moving a stray piece of hair from her face as she scanned the pages.

“It’s alright. He’s had a hand in taking some of my close partners. Killed off one of the best hit men I knew.” He said.

“No way. Who?” She asked, closing her journal and looking over at him.

“Aberama Gold...you knew him?” He asked, taking another cigarette out of his pocket.

“Yeah. Taught me how to shoot a couple times when I went on missions.....” She said, staring at the floor for a moment. The crickets and other nightlife chirping over the vast cemetery.

“We have to get him ya know....Mosley’s taken pretty much everyone I’ve ever known.” She said, her excitement at their shared acquaintance fading as she remembered her losses.

“You’re not alone Isla.” He said.

She looked at him with a confused expression, her eyes darting to his.

“We’re partners now, so I wouldn’t consider you alone.” He said.

“Am I paying you? You said in your letter that this meeting was only part of your price.” She said, deflecting his comment and crossing her arms over her chest as her tone turned serious. She had a cold stare that could rival his, making him feel uneasy.

“No. Keep your money.” He said.

“Well then how is that fair?” She asked.

“Now that I’ve met you...I’ve changed my mind. If I were to offer you...I don’t know....a date perhaps...would that work?” He asked.

Isla felt her cheeks heat up in the dark room, looking down desperately to hide her face.

“You’re pretty bold, you know that right?” She asked, getting up to put the papers away in an effort to distract herself.

“I’ve been told that. But you haven’t answered my question...Would that work?” He asked.

“That will work. But on one condition.” She said, watching as he got up.

“What’s that?” He asked, his tired eyes meeting hers from under his peaked cap.

“I’m not talking business while on said date. I think we could both use the break aye?” She asked, a serious expression on her face once again.

Thomas nodded and straightened his coat out, not wanting to leave the odd warmth of the room.

“That’s fair. No business talk. Just...drinking?” He asked.

“Just drinking.” She said, leaving quickly before he could say anything else.

He opened the door and stepped outside, watching as she walked away through the tombstones and into the night, leaving his mind buzzing with questions and his ring finger almost burning as the gold band glistened in the moonlight, reminding him of all he’d lost this time around. With a loud sigh, he ripped the ring off his finger, chucking it as far as he could into the night, finally feeling somewhat free as he made his way back to his car, and to his children.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x female!reader

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singledarkshade · 3 years

Text

Deadly Puzzle

Part Three

(Part One and Part Two can be found here)

Eve stood at the door watching her little sister in her new bedroom. Gideon had only opened one box and was currently sitting on her new bed, huddled in the corner with Gilbert’s teddy bear clutched to her. She hadn’t let it go since Eve had picked her up.

It had been the worst week Eve had ever had to endure, from the moment she’d answered the phone to be told her mother, stepfather and stepbrother were all dead meaning she was now all that her stepsister had left.

She’d not been able to spend much time with Gideon and Gilbert since she had started with the FBI. Now she had to be a parent to her ten-year-old sister who didn’t know her and already hated her for moving them to a different country.

But Central City was where Eve’s job was, and she needed it more than ever to support the devastated little girl in the bedroom. One who had already proven herself smarter than most people in most rooms.

Eve had no idea how to connect with Gideon or help her through this, but she had no choice.

“Gideon,” Kendra said softly, “There’s more in this box.”

Shaking herself Gideon turned back to the others in the room and gently placed the bear on the desk. As she did, the tag caught her eye.

“This isn’t Gilbert’s bear,” she breathed before turning back to the box, stretching up so she could lean in and pulled out a smaller box containing three fake gravestones.

The others crowded round, and Harrison read, “Mommy Rider, Daddy Rider, Big Brother Rider. There’s something beneath them,” he lifted the three fake tombstones out their box to see the paper below and read, “When everything is lost, when all is gone, sometimes all you want is to go home but a stop is made on the way, even if only for one day.”

“What does that mean?” Kendra mused.

Gideon fumbled to get her phone, “Evie,” she quickly dialled her older sister, “Eve, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Eve told her, “Why? What happened?”

She sighed, “Yang left me a present. I’ll send you a picture.”

Quickly snapping the bear, the tombstones and the note, Gideon sent it to her sister and waited while Eve looked at it.

“I doubt home means me,” Eve came back on, “It’ll be where you feel safest.”

“That’s Rip’s place or the office,” Gideon told her.

Eve replied, “This is aimed at you, and although you spend more time at Rip’s apartment than your own, the office is in your name.”

“Are you sure it’s the office?” Harrison asked her.

Gideon frowned in thought before shaking her head, “When all is lost…” she whispered before murmuring, “All is lost.” Her head came up and she demanded, “Evie, when we first came to Central City the house wasn’t ready, where did we stay?”

“The Star Hotel on sixth,” Eve told her.

“That’s where the next clue is,” Gideon said, “We’re heading there now.”

Before she could hang up, Eve called, “I’ll meet you there.”

Gideon put her phone away and, with Harrison, Kendra and Cisco, headed to the car. The Star Hotel wasn’t that far from the station and as they walked into the reception area the old-fashioned phone on the wall began to ring.

Gideon stalled as the phone rang.

“Answer it,” Kendra told her.

Gideon frowned, listening to the ringing.

“Rider,” Harrison snarled, “Answer the damn phone.”

Shaking her head, Gideon replied, “It only started to ring once we were here. He's watching us right now from somewhere.”

Harrison snapped, “Answer the phone, Gideon,” as it continued to ring, he snarled, “If that girl dies, you're an accessory to murder.”

Walking to the phone, Gideon lifted the receiver and hung up instantly.

Eve stared at her, “I hope to God you know what you're doing.”

Gideon turned in a circle and spotted an open door that she knew had been closed a few moments ago. Charging towards the office she found a tablet showing the reception of the hotel where they had been moments before.

“He’s been watching us,” Gideon cried, “All this time, he watched us.”

Kendra caught Gideon’s shoulder, “Don't touch anything.”

Harrison scanned the room, “Let's get CSI down here to dust for prints.”

“There's no need,” Cisco noted, “I'm sure he touched things. He probably touched everything, but you're not going to find any prints. He's too good for that.”

“What is this sick, twisted admiration you have for this whack job?” Harrison demanded of the younger man.

Cisco shrugged before asking, “Now do you get how good he is? He’s just warming up.”

Kendra frowned as she looked around the room, gasping when she saw a picture sitting on the desk, “Oh, my God,” she pulled out a glove from her pocket and picked it up by the edge of the frame turning it to show the others.

“The waitress,” Gideon breathed, horrified to see the scared woman tied to a chair.

Her phone beeped and she pulled it out hoping it was Rip, frowning when it was from an unknown number. She handed it Cisco to read not wanting to see what the psycho had written to her.

“It's a message from Yang,” Cisco said softly, “He says, you are a naughty, naughty girl. He's giving us another chance. She's still alive.”

Kendra nodded, “Okay, let's go back to the station, wait for instructions.”

Gideon shook her head, “No.”

Eve frowned, “Gideon?”

“I’m going back to the office,” she said.

Kendra stared at her stunned, “What do you mean?”

Gideon shrugged, “I'm nobody's puppet, okay? I'm done. I'm done playing his little game. I solved his puzzles. I chased my tail and had him dredge up my past. I'm finished.”

Cisco said urgently, “No one's ever gotten this far. That's why he's still playing. It's a sign of respect.”

“No,” Gideon yelled, “It isn’t, Cisco. He’s too good, he’s better than me and we never had a chance. He's going to kill that girl either way.”

Kendra shook her head as Gideon started out the door, “Maybe, maybe not, Gideon but I know you don't just give up.”

Gideon turned back, “Tell you what, Kendra, the next time a serial killer calls you out, personally, you can pick up your pompoms and rally the troops and never say die. I'm out.”

“Damn you, Rider,” Harrison yelled after her, “We don’t need you. We’ll do this ourselves.”

Without looking back Gideon marched out the building with Eve following on behind her.

*********************************************

Rip and Miranda ran from the car park into the hospital reception finding they were not the only parents there.

“We’re here for Jonas Hunter,” Miranda said to the receptionist.

The woman nodded and quickly checked her computer, “Dr Snow will be out to speak to you in a few moments.”

Seeing Miranda was about to yell at the woman, Rip caught her arm and moved her to the side, catching her face in his hands.

“Take a breath,” he told her, “She can’t tell us anything.”

Miranda whispered, “I want my boy.”

“I know,” Rip said, “But I’ve learned working with the CCPD that there are procedures they have to follow.”

Sighing Miranda nodded and held onto him when Rip wrapped his arm around her.

“Mr and Mrs Hunter?” a woman said as she walked over to them a few moments later.

Normally Miranda would have corrected her but right now her worry for Jonas overtook everything, “Yes.”

“I’m Dr Snow,” she introduced herself, “And you two have an amazing son. I’ll take you through to him.”

“He’s okay?” Rip demanded.

Dr Snow smiled, “He has a few bumps and bruises but other than that he’s fine. From what I’ve been told he kept all the other kids calm after the crash.”

Rip and Miranda shared a proud smile.

“Mummy,” the familiar voice called as they entered the room, “Daddy.”

“Baby,” Miranda ran over to the bed and hugged her son tightly, “Oh, I was so worried.”

Jonas submitted to the hug for a few minutes before he began to squirm.

“Miranda,” Rip said softly, “Can I hug my son?”

Miranda released the boy finally and Rip gave Jonas a quick hug before checking the large bruise on his cheek.

“The doctor told us that you kept everyone calm,” Rip said, while Miranda fussed over their son.

Jonas shrugged, “Just like you would.”

Pride filled Rip and he pressed a kiss to the top of Jonas’ head, “I am going to check with the doctor when we can take you home.”

As he headed to talk to Dr Snow, Rip pulled out his phone and sent Gideon a message letting her know Jonas was alright.

Jonas was sleeping by the time they reached the house. Rip eased the little boy out of the back seat of the car and carried him to his bedroom. Together they changed Jonas into his pyjamas, managing not to wake him before sliding him under the covers. Miranda gently tucked him in, smoothing his hair and pressing a kiss to his forehead. She stepped back and allowed Rip to kiss his son before they tiptoed out the room.

The moment they left the room, Miranda headed to the couch and sat down tears filling her eyes.

“It’s okay,” Rip soothed, sitting at her side, wrapping his arm around her, “He’s safe and the doctor said he wasn’t hurt other than a few bruises.”

Miranda nodded, trying to stop her tears, “I know but I thought I was going to lose him. Rip, I have never been that scared in my life.”

“I know,” Rip hugged her closer for a moment before turning her to look at him, gently wiping the few tears sliding along her cheeks, “I was terrified too but he’s okay and safe in his room.” He rested his forehead against hers, gently stroking her cheek to comfort her, “Jonas is fine, and he looked after everyone else.”

Miranda closed her eyes as she leaned against him, sliding her arms around him, and resting her head against his shoulder. Turning to look at him, Rip wasn’t sure who made the move but suddenly their lips touched in a kiss. Instantly Rip was transported back over ten years and pulled her closer. Parting Rip stared into Miranda’s eyes as she stared at him, but before they could say anything his phone began to buzz.

“It’s Detective Wells,” Rip grimaced, answering the phone he listened worry filling him. When the other man finished, Rip glanced at Miranda who nodded before saying, “I’ll be right there.”

Miranda touched his arm as he hung up, “We’ll be fine. Go and help Gideon.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

She hugged him tightly, “We’re fine. We’ll see you tomorrow for dinner with your mother.”

Rip nodded and pressed a quick kiss to the side of her mouth before he grabbed his jacket and headed to his car.

Jonas was safe, he now had to make sure Gideon was.

#fic #ripfic #legends of tomorrow #rip hunter #gideon #kendra saunders #miranda coburn #jonas hunter #the flash #cisco ramon #harrison wells #psych au verse

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rinnnyxr · 3 years

Text

Have You Ever…

I’m listening to music right now. A friend came over to my house today. My mom is going back to school to get a degree. I’m going to see a movie this weekend. My high school has (had) a lot of pep rallies. I hate it when glue-sticks get all gross and goopy. I would love to be on the game show “Jeopardy!” I have seen and loved the movie “Pineapple Express.” My parents aren’t going to be home tonight. In one of my classes today, I got a pop quiz. Going to sporting events bores me. I love South Park. I have seen a play or musical on broadway. I know what “mugging it” means. The last thing I had to drink was water. I worked out today. I use shower gel to clean myself in the shower. I know someone who can speak/write in Japanese. I have taken a college class. Something embarrassing happened to me in a game of truth or dare. I know what “IHOP” stands for. I need to charge my cell. I am/was in the marching band. I’m wearing long sleeves right now. I’ve seen the movie “Tenacious D and the Pick of Destiny.” It irritates me when people use incorrect spelling/grammar. I listen to Britney Spears. Currently, someone is avoiding me. I think Nair is the worst thing ever. I love Indian cuisine. My favorite flavor of Mentos is strawberry. It’s snowing outside. I get a ride from my parents to school. I absolutely hate where I live. My favorite band has a “the” in front of it. My fingers and toes get really cold all the time. I have an odd sense of humor. Breakfast cereal is the shit. When I was a kid, I took fruity vitamins every day. I ate a cookie today. I love ridiculously large purses/bags. It’s so annoying when people don’t text back. I wasn’t born in the same place that I live now. Someone in my family is in the military. I just want to throw my computer out the window. I’ve purchased something today. I count birds sitting on power lines. I should be doing something else right now. I’ve stayed in a hospital overnight before.

Other random facts about me I have shot a real gun more than once before | I could talk about music for hours on end | I have a hard time sitting still, but enjoy being energetic | I am extremely impatient | I get very emotional | Music doesn’t stop me from crying because I am so emotionally attached to it that it makes me want to cry more | I have serious trouble picking favorites | I hate lying | I find beauty in things not many others around me can see | I think gargoyles are awesome

There are 4+ people in my house right now. I countdown to exciting events. I can’t live without my iPod. I go to the mall for more than twice a month. I have a photo album. I take random pictures 24/7 to put on my Myspace. I’m ¼ black. I have more than 5 pets. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. I’m always confused. I can never wear all black. People say I look like my mom. I have big eyes. I have many different hairstyles. I’m not a morning person. I know at least one person with the name John. I download ringtones on my phone constantly. I sit in the back of all my classes. I live in NJ and have never been to the Jersey Shore. Big sunglasses are sexy. I’m definitely not a cat person. I have no life. I go to school with someone from my family. One of my friends looks like one of my cousins. I’m using a laptop. ^ I didn’t buy it myself; it was a gift. My most recent ex is single. I tend to overthink things a lot of the time. I’ve never cheated on anyone. I know a few people my age who have children. ^I’m not ready for children yet. My current hair color is my natural color. I’m feeling kind of guilty about something right now. One of my best friends is gay. I sometimes get messages from random people on Tumblr, telling me that I’m beautiful. ^I don’t really agree. I like the underwear I’m wearing; it’s pretty. Sometimes if I get too upset or stressed out, I start to feel ill. Someone of the opposite sex is on my mind. It took me months to get over my ex. I always use conditioner when I wash my hair. I’m blood-related to the last person I talked to. One of my best friends is engaged. If my ex phoned me now, I would be quite surprised. ^But I’d answer. I used to love “The Wizard of Oz”. I like 90s music. The last person I kissed has told me that they love me. ^But I don’t think they meant it. I haven’t been out drinking for ages. I had a really weird dream last night. My birthday is less than a month away. I really want cuddles; I wish someone would hug me. I want to see someone. ^But the person I want to see is too busy. I have lots of friends on Facebook that I don’t really talk to. I was sad when Whitney Houston died; I like her songs. I don’t really regret anything; there’s no point. I never drink milk. I hugged someone of the opposite sex last night. I hardly ever use Skype/video chat. When I checked Facebook this morning, I had some unread messages. I have a crush on the last person that Facebook messaged me. People say I look like my dad. I’ve had a panic attack before. People can always tell when I’m upset, even though I try not to show it. My sleeping patterns are kind of messed up. I’m currently wearing something black. I think Rihanna is pretty. Only a few of my friends use Tumblr. I don’t think I would ever go back to my ex. ^I’d still like to be friends though. My last beverage was hot. Today was a bit boring; I hope tomorrow is better.

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ninaahelvar · 4 years

Text

Chivalry Fell On Its Sword (17/23)

Summary: All Arya wanted so to feel normal and go outside of the damn castle. Now, through a series of unfortunate, she’s stuck with a bodyguard that she accidentally flirted with: Gendry Waters.

AO3

A/N: me? edit a chapter? unlikely. I'm sorry for all the mistakes. also, I know my breaks between chapters can sometimes be long and very infuriating as a reader, but right now, for my own creative energy, i’ve decided to take a break from cfois. This is only for a short time, but i’m so creatively burnt out that i’m not working on anything. I will update on tumblr and twitter when things are picking back up, but right now i’m sorry you have to wait for more. xx

Arya heard the shots, and when Robb went down, she thought the worst. Until she saw Gendry. He staggered before he eventually fell to the ground. In a moment, Arya saw everything she had held so close slip from her hands. He tried to be a strong man, holding onto his chest, and all she wanted to do was run across the short distance to him to find out what the hell just happened. He was wearing a vest, wasn’t he? How could he go down like that?

Instead, she was whisked away against her better wishes and escorted to their safe point. Throughout the entire car journey, Arya found herself begging to go back, because above everything else, she didn’t want her last memory of the man she loved to be tainted by that touch of blood on his lips as he choked for air.

In the car, Arya was with Sansa and Bran, her brother in Sandor’s arms as they were told to get to a secure location. She found out later that the reason Sandor was carrying Bran was because once the shots were fired, they didn’t have time to get the chair in the car. They would have to get Bran a new one, as they weren’t sure if the chair would have made it through the chaos of the events.

It was hard for Arya to concentrate when so many different reports were going around. They were whisked from one place to another, trying to get as much information out of each of them on the attack. Arya found it hard to explain what went wrong. All she remembered was the joy that washed away after she saw Robb get knocked away, but Gendry went down. She was overcome that finding the words to explain what went wrong were so far from who she was in that moment.

Arya knew she was a pistol - she understood that she was reckless, blazing through her life and shooting through other’s lives like nothing. But in a moment of pure rage, hatred, and grief, she found Jon, who had managed to get the suspect into an interrogation room. When their eyes met, it was as if Jon knew more than Arya. she hadn’t even known how she got there, just that she found them.

She began to storm past her brother when he caught her arm and dragged her away like it was nothing. Arya fought against him, tearing his hands from her every time he put them back ont.

“Get your hands off of me!” she snarled, wrenching herself away, trying to leap out of his grip until he held onto her by her waist, picking her up and dragging her off.

“Arya you can’t go in there!” Jon said just as Arya brought an elbow down into his shoulder. He crumbled, letting her go for just a moment, not even enough to let her escape. She hated that he could get her to stay.

“I deserve to pummel that asshole within an inch of his life!” she roared, trying to pull away. The door was so fucking close, she could almost touch it, but sanity kept her in place. It was her brother’s doing, but it knocked her. “Please Jon, please let me in,” she whimpered, turning back to him.

“I can’t do that, you know I can’t,” he said, and Arya beat her fists against his chest. It was only a few fists later that her hands hit with less impact, and her heart was lurching into her throat.

“Arya,” Jon whispered to her, her name a comfort when it came from his lips.

“My boyfriend and love of my life just got shot. I don’t know if he’d gonna live or not. So please, let me be mad,” she asked in a huff. Jon held her by the bicep, lowering them down to the ground until they completely on the floor. Arya watched as Jon began taking deep breaths, and her having the follow suit. When she was calm, she felt herself become weak, as though her pain was dwindled by her rage. But she didn’t want it to, as when the pain rose, her eyes could spring a leak at any moment and she’d be bawling her eyes out for hours.

“Let’s go to the hospital.” The words made Arya look up at him. He gave a soft nod of confirmation that he was serious. He’d take her there, not keep her away like everyone else would have.

Part of her wanted to argue, but the way Jon looked at her, pleaded with her to move an inch for him was enough to get her to nod. From there, it was just following Jon until she felt like she wasn’t going to cry. She could hold it in as long as she followed Jon. That’s what she told herself anyway.

By the time they got there, Arya found her mother and father were talking with a doctor. Arya and Jon ran to them - well, more so, Arya ran to them, Jon was just keeping up. Catelyn draped her arm over Arya’s shoulder, holding her close and kissing her forehead.

“The prince is just fine. A few scraps and bruises, but nothing serious,” the doctor explained, as though this would have been his second or third time doing so, it was just more family coming to explain to.

“And the bodyguard?” Arya questioned. The doctor then looked at her, sorrowful eyes that wouldn’t let her heart not break. With a sigh, the doctor pointed to two parts of his torso; one finger pressed to his side, along where his kidneys were, the other pointed at his heart.

“He was hit three times. Two hit his side, but the one that made impact with his chest was the one that cause the most damage. We’d be surprised if he felt the two to the side without how brutally the third went through him.”

“He was wearing a vest wasn’t he?” She’d kill him if he hadn’t - stupid, reckless bullheaded asshole.

“If he hadn’t worn the vest, the bullet at his chest would have gone straight through him instead of how it landed. The possibility that it ripped through his heart and lungs would have been greater than the position of the bullets. He’s still in surgery, so we won’t know his condition for some time, we suggest waiting where you’re comfortable.”

With that, the doctor gave one final nod, taking the family to Robb who was secluded amongst other patients. From the corner of Arya’s eye, she saw the other patients all gossiping and wondering what happened until the news interrupted programs on the waiting room tvs. Every second of her life was on display for the world’s consumption, and part of Arya felt like shattering.

“I have to call Tailya. Has anyone called her yet?” Arya suddenly realised, looking around. Jon looked at her, giving her a soft shrug.

“Not that I know of,” Jon said.

“I should call her,” Arya said, hands roaming over her form to try and find her phone. Was it even in her pockets or did she have a purse that she completely forgot about. Jon suddenly took Arya’s wrist, taking her to sit amongst the others in the waiting room, sitting her down and kneeling in front of her.

“Arya, maybe I should. Why don’t I get dad so he can -”

“Can you get mum?” she interrupted. Jon stood, hand to her cheek.

“Yeah. Of course,” he said, phone pressed to his ear, leaning down and kissing her crown. “Yes, am I speaking with Tailya Waters? It’s Jon Snow from the palace. I’m sorry I have some…” Jon left before Arya could catch more of his words. Arya’s heart broke for Tailya. It wasn’t like she could have foreseen this happening, or even if she did, she hated that Tailya had to get that call. Part of her wished she’d made the call, but she knew if she’d talked to his mother, she could have very well come apart at the seams.

With Jon gone and her mother at her side, Arya held onto her hand, keeping herself calm. Catelyn was patient until she was beckoned away. The pair didn’t wish to part, but Arya knew her mother’s responsibility to the public and said it was fine. Once she was alone again, Arya was left with her thoughts - the ones that festered and fed into the notion that she was bound to loneliness for the rest of her life.

It took an hour before she saw Gendry. He was wheeled out and into a seperate room. Arya rushed to the doctor that she had seen before, taking his arm and his attention in one moment.

“How he is?” Arya asked, not caring how ridiculous or desperate she looked. She just needed to know more than seeing the man she loved lying in a bed. She hadn’t even gotten a proper look at him, she just knew it was him. The doctor took a moment, looking over to Gendry’s room before he sighed, combing back his hair

“He’s stable for now. There was a lot of damage, but we think he’s been through the worst of it,” he said, though he extended a hand to her shoulder, almost in warning, not to give hope a chance of latching in her chest, “we’ll need to monitor him for the next few days.” Arya gave a nod before she looked at the door.

She wanted to look in, but couldn’t bring herself to. Everything in her told her not to look - she wasn’t the same Arya she thought she was when it came to Gendry. Every day she was the tough, unbeatable woman that the world rallied behind for being an outrageous royal princess. But with him, all she was, was a woman that loved a man, simply in love. And all she could do was shatter when he was broken.

“I don’t understand how a goddamn bullet got through a bulletproof vest,” Arya said, pacing across the length of Gendry’s door. Jon stood close by, her parents and Robb having left an hour before.

“It was a combat weapon. They’re designed to do the most impact, including going through bulletproof vests. Like the doctor said, if he hadn’t worn that, it would have torn up his insides and we’d be having a different conversation,”

“I’m Tailya Waters, I’m just trying to -”

“Tailya! Over here!” Arya called. Tailya perked when seeing her, rushing over and seeing that the door was right behind her. Upon the two seeing each other, Jon gave a simple nod and left the pair.

“I want to see him,” Tailya asked. Arya hurried a nod, showing her the door. As Tailya moved past her, Arya turned - maybe it was the freedom of an open door that had her scared - that she’d jump inside and never leave. “Sweetheart?” she said before Arya looked up. With her hand extended, Tailya gave a tender smile. Arya took it and guided them both into the room. Upon seeing him, Tailya whimpered, gripping harder into Arya’s shaking hand.

As always, Arya remained strong, but had to admit, once seeing Gendry hooked up to all those machines, she almost fell to the ground. Taking Tailya to Gendry’s bedside, his mother gripped tight to his hand as Arya went around to the other side, combing the hair out of his face, just to see him. Gendry didn’t seem like he was in pain, just an uncomfortable sleep.

Why did it feel like her heart was breaking over everything.

Suddenly a phone started to ring, making Tailya scramble for her phone in her bag.

“Shit, why now?” Tailya said with a sniffle in her voice. In a moment she was gone, leaving Arya alone with Gendry. He was defenseless, a man bound to his sleep, living through a pain that he never asked for.

Arya couldn’t help it, she burst into tears, holding him with all her might. He didn’t touch her or budge as she held onto his sleeping form, and it only made her cry the harder. She didn’t care who saw her, or even if it was published in all the papers. She just wanted to hold him until he held her back. At this rate, however, there wasn’t a likely chance of that happening. As her tears dried up, Tailya coming back, Arya sat back down next to him, holding onto his hand as his mother held his other.

Tailya explained that she had to leave the pub abruptly, which meant her regulars were phoning in to find out the news, so every time she got a call, Arya sat by her, holding her hand and making sure she was ok. It the least she could do without taking the calls herself. It wasn’t like Arya could say much to them either.

On Arya’s end, she was called by Sansa every few hours. Even when she should have been asleep, Sansa phoned, checking up on both of them. Arya didn’t know exactly what happened between Gendry and Sansa in the short time they were paired together, but they became close enough that Sansa considered him a friend. It warmed Arya’s heart in the past - now it felt like it was breaking because Sansa may lose a friend she only just scarcely had.

The next morning, once she had stretched out her back from the uncomfortable armchair she slept in, Arya found her phone, texting the group on Gendry’s condition and letting them know that she’d loved to be cheered up, in spite of the pain she was feeling.

By 7am, her family had conjured a smile from her.

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

7:03am - Bran: wow, john mulaney foresaw the events of the day

7:05am - Rickon: bruh the tax payers paid for that :(((

7:05am - Rickon: that wheelchair is worth more than bran is

7:06am - Sansa: hes like 8th in line for the throne we can afford to lose him

7:07am - Bran: i am DISABLED

7:07am - Bran: and still i get fucking dragged

7:10am - Jon: is it sad that my first thought was ‘you get dragged everywhere anyway’

7:10am - Bran: JONATHAN!

7:11am - Jon: please don’t use my full name

7:12am - Sansa: nice burn, but Jon you don’t have a name, you gave one to yourself cause you were lonely

7:13am - Jon: I thought we were making fun of Bran, not me

7:13am - Sansa: no one is safe

Arya looked through her phone, laughing as she felt tears fill her eyes. It made it harder to see, but she didn’t care. It was the only thing keeping her happy when the man she loved remained in a bed with machines hooked up to him. It wasn’t what he deserved, but he had put his life in danger before. He worked hard to be good at what he did - he protected Robb, but at the cost of his life. It was the hardest thing she’d ever have to do - wait to see if he’d ever wake up. They weren’t sure, it wasn’t even clear if he’d ever fully recover.

Over the course of a few days, Gendry was unhooked from machines, able to breathe on his own, it was just a waiting game until he woke up. The doctors were happy with his stitches, and could see if he woke up he’d have no complications. It was just the waiting that was killing Arya.

It had been nearly a week since Gendry had been admitted to the hospital. His mum found it hard to take herself away from work, and every time she visited, she’d end up crying and having to leave. Arya understood. Most days, she’d go into the bathroom to steal away her cries so no one would know. Everything was sacred in that room - all secrets she whispered to him were kept in that room like they had done in her bed so many countless times.

In the meantime, the tv played, endless shows that meant nothing in the grand scheme of things. Arya flicked through her phone, going through some emails as a show began with ridiculous music.

“It’s sunday so you all know what that means! It’s time for the North daily's which heartthRobb is it?”

Arya scoffed at the name, the music getting dramatic, and for a split second, Arya got interested. Picking up her phone, taking a video of the events that unfolded.

“Here we have a picture of Robb or Richard at yet another event from this week. So Shyen, our chosen audience member, you know the rules.”

“I can’t believe this is a real fucking show,” Arya whispered, her hands shaking as she laughed.

“Tell us which heartthrobb it is, and you'll win this weeks prize of a $1000 gift voucher to leading supermarket Winter's Harvest.”

On the screen flashed a picture that Arya had to legitimately question whether or not it was her brother or not. It could have been Robb or Richard, as they both decided to sport that stupid grey streak in their hair. Arya contemplated, almost guessing but faltered at the last second.

“Robb. I’d know his dumb head anywhere.” It was like the hum of a drum that echoed around the room. Arya shot her attention from the screen to the sleeping man beside her, but instead of a calm man who had just been shot, she saw a gorgeous smile that looked weak but utterly happy. She dropped her phone in an instant.

“Gendry!” she yelled, throwing herself over him, only pulling back once she heard him wince. “Don’t you ever do that again,” Arya warned him, watching as he chuckled. She couldn’t help herself - she surged forward, stealing the smile from his lips and making it hers upon her own. When he sighed against her, Arya cried, a breath of life she hadn’t thought she’d ever be able to have again. His tired arms came around her, pulling her onto the bed, both holding onto each other with every ounce of love they could spare in that moment.

*~*~*

TO GROUP ‘The Ghost Fan Club (Jon fuck off)’

8:46pm - Bran: did you guys see how fucking fast she dropped her phone when she realised he woke up? That was iconic

8:47pm - Ygritte: kinda romantic

8:48pm - Robb: ygritte? In this chat?

8:49pm - Ygritte: this is jon typing

8:50pm - Sansa: now that I believe

8:51pm - Jon: Ygritte is in another country, you guys know this!

8:52pm - Rickon: jon stop lying, we know you have ygritte’s phone!

8:53pm - Jon: i hate you guys

*~*~*

Out of all the things about being shot Gendry hated, it was mostly having to stay in his fucking bed. The hospital was small and made him feel like he was going to kick at the end and break the goddamn bed was sleeping in. The food sucked too but it was a hospital so he didn’t complain as much.

What he did like, though, was the fact that Arya kissed him more than she ever had before. It was him that usually had to steal kisses when she wasn’t looking. Now, it was Arya that just interrupted him mid sentence to just kiss him. He didn’t know how much he worried her, but it must have hurt her. He hated that he had done it again, without even meaning to. He understood his role as a bodyguard, and it was always to put himself in between danger and his protectee.

When he was home, he liked it a hell of a lot more than the hospital room. He liked the simplicity of his home, even if he had to keep packing for his new place. When Pod could, he came by and helped Gendry pack, but they weren’t exactly the most efficient pair around each other.

Then, he got an unusual call. Gendry wasn’t sure what to make of it. He still had a ways to go for recovery, but the palace had called and asked for him to come in, he didn’t know what to make of it. They gave vague instructions, so he followed them the next day.

With a tight breath, he walked into the palace. He felt like he wasn’t walking straight, and constantly felt the need to hold his side as though it were going to burst open a stitch or something. When he saw the stairs, true fear set in, because there was a very likely chance he’d pop something on the ascent.

“Gendry!” A voice yelled, echoing around the foyer. Without even a second to think or brace himself, Arya had collided with him, arms around his neck and hanging onto him for dear life. The pair struggled to stay on their feet, but Gendry didn’t care when he could hear the playful giggles of his girlfriend. For a moment, he was glad he could hold her amidst the pain, he just wanted to be bound to her from that day on.

As she fell from his embrace, he held onto his side and she hissed as though she recognised her mistake once out his grip. Then, with her hand on his cheek, he felt like a weightless fool, bending down to her, their foreheads pressing to one another. “How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked with hope in her breath. It wasn’t like she saw him every day without fail, but she asked every day.

“I’m doing fine. A little fragile but I expected that,” he explained, smiling to here. As she parted from him, she looked him over as though seeing him standing there was particularly an amazing feat.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her smile spreading wider.

He gave a shrug - or something he should have called a shrug if one of his shoulders wasn’t as lame as it currently was. “Robb asked me to stop by.”

It was like this family was tuned into the front door opening, because the next thing Gendry saw was Robb rushing down the stairs as casually as someone could rush down stairs. Maybe the family was unused to visitors that anyone coming inside was a treat. Or someone could have told them in some way. Gendry never told Arya about people stopping by, but he was usually told. Maybe it was through those channels.

“Gendry! Gods, it’s good to see you.” Robb smiled before he embraced Gendry. It was a tender thing, as though he knew he couldn’t hold Gendry as tightly as someone who had saved his life should have been embraced. But Gendry didn’t mind. He loved the Starks, and although he wasn’t terribly big on affection - he didn’t mind it with them.

“You’re only saying that cause I didn’t die.” Gendry gauged Robb’s reaction, realising he wasn’t only speaking to Arya. To his surprise, Robb chuckled, slapping Gendry’s shoulder.

“Saved my life, man. I can’t thank you enough,” he said, and Gendry had some doubts it would be the last time.

“What’s this all about?”

“I wanted to explain what happened, and why you were hurt,” Robb said, his tone getting serious, hands in his pockets as he explained.

“Alright,” Gendry nodded, turning to Arya, taking her hand, kissing at her knuckles. “I’ll see you later, ok?” he asked. Arya stepped up, kissing Gendry briefly.

“Love you, don’t let him kick you around,” he smiled, allowing Arya to steal yet another kiss from his lips.

Gendry walked up the stairs slowly beside Robb, who explained what his schedule was, and that things were going to get more chaotic than he wants it to be, but he couldn’t stop it. Gendry had always been on the outside of their schedule, and knew that it took a lot out of everyone to be someone with the utmost authority. It was often for them to be more comfortable around other royals as it was a chance to breathe.

There were only a select few people that the royals were comfortable being informal around. Gendry was luck to be one of them, with the entire family it seemed. Especially in such a short time. Their security and palace staff were an exception, but they were considered as much part of the Stark household as any other.

Once inside Robb’s office, Gendry took a seat, and groaned once his body had relaxed into it. He wasn’t sure how long the pain would last, but it didn’t seem to be giving up any time soon. As he got comfortable, Robb sat down next to Gendry instead of across from him like he anticipated.

“So,” Robb started, giving himself a moment before he continued, as though the words were there, but somehow hard to find. “I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am. I’m not sure to saying thank you to people who save my life,” he said, and Gendry shook his head, reaching over and gripping Robb’s shoulder.

“It must be a very foreign feeling, I’m sure,” he said.

“Dude, I wish you’d drop the formal shit for a second,” Robb scoffed.

“Ok,” Gendry laughed, before he took his own breath - finding words that were there but somehow not. Instead, he played it off as best he could. “Robb, I don’t want me taking a bullet for you to be some sort of sign that I might like or even...respect you.”

“Fuck you,” Robb blurted before he cracked into a giant smile. “I’m serious though, you risked your life for me and I can’t thank you enough for it,” he said.

“Just doing my job.”

Then, as much as they had been messing around, it seemed like Robb realised his place. He stood and walked around the desk. “The guy we got talked almost instantly. We found out he was from a fringe group known as the faceless men. They were set on dismantling the seven kingdoms. There were many attacks all on the same day. We think their main goal was to cause as much chaos as possible and divide the kingdoms, break us apart. Killing me wouldn’t have made the North crumble. I have like twelve siblings,” he said, sitting down, chuckling but still remained somewhat solemn.

“Are you doing ok?” gendry asked.

“Oh yeah I’m fine. Talisa slapped me for scaring her, but other than that I’m good,” he shrugged, his hand going to his mouth as his elbow met the table, as though he were thinking of something else. Gendry had his suspicions.

“Ever since waking up, Arya has been scaring me more than a gunman does,” Gendry admitted.

“Why? Too much?” Robb asked with a softer voice, as though Arya would walk in and hear what they were saying.

“She just fucking clocks me every time she sees me,” Gendry said, smirk on his lips.

“She punches you?” Robb asked with a furrowed brow.

“No! She hugs me like her life depends on it, and I’ve got like...bullet wounds in me. I’m never going to heal at this rate,” he said, and the two laughed, shaking their head at the ridiculousness of their Arya.

“She loves you. If she didn’t hug you like her life depends on it, you’re not worth it for her,” Robb reminded.

“I know,” he confirmed, though he didn’t need to be reminded.

“We’re having a big meeting with the other kingdoms. You won’t need to get to know any of them, but I’m sure some of them would like to meet you, if that’s ok?” Robb informed, and Gendry was a little taken back. He hadn’t been so included in an event like this before. He was always on the sidelines, but now Gendry was thrust into the limelight.

“That’s fine. When is it?” Gendry played off his nerves, but he felt them , the anxiousness in his chest still there in spite of his calm appearance.

“In a few days, we’ll make sure that everything is in order. As you won’t be staff, but a special guest, we’ll send through details,” Robb smiled, and Gendry smiled back. Standing and taking a step forward to shake Robb’s hand.

“Thanks,” he said, and as they shook each other’s hand there was a thought popped up at the back of his mind, and he had to question it. “Uh,” he started, taking a step back and putting his hands behind his back. “Will King Robert be there?”

“So far he’s said yes, so I suspect so,” Robb said with a nod, and went back to his work, not questioning Gendry’s enquiry.

With a breath, Gendry left Robb’s office and wandered the halls to go back to the room where he spent most of his time. Before he even managed to get there, his spitfire of a girlfriend found him first, holding onto his arm and guiding them back to her room. He explained the situation, and then the wandering thought that greeting people would work a hell of a lot better if he had any idea of who all the royals were.

In Arya’s room, lying on her bed and his head in her lap, he tried to rattle off all the people he knew from memory. It wasn’t great, but he was trying. “So, Dany, Drogo, Lannisters, Robert,” Gendry stopped once the memory of the one family he knew was gone, the thought pressing to his temple but lost so quickly. “Ah fuck, who else will be there?” he cursed. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, scratching at his scalp.

“Do you want me to quiz you?” she said with a little laugh in her voice.

Looking up at her, watching as she smiled so tenderly, he wanted to remain angry at his inability to remember anything, but just told her his frustrations. “Look, I didn’t even know the royals I was coming to work for, Arry, how am I meant to know other fucking kingdoms?”

“Ok, so we’ll start with the easy ones. Daenerys Targaryen, queen of the crownlands. Tywin Lannister rules over The Westerlands,”

“You’re already going too fast,” Gendry huffed, covering his face.

“I heard something about a quiz!” A voice beamed, followed by the flare of red hair that came barrelling into the room and onto Arya’s bed.

“Why did you invite her?” Gendry groaned, just as Sansa moved over him, face wide with a devilish smile.

“I invited everyone,” Arya admitted, and Gendry shut his eyes. He sat up, resigned to the fate that was about to become his life.

“Oh god, let’s just go to the dining room and roast me on a spit,” he said, taking Arya’s hand and Sansa got on the group chat, everyone eventually meeting down in the dining room. Gendry sat with Arya, the two of them studying to help him as the family gathered. In the end, every member of the family was there, chairs all set up against the wall like a true audience, where Gendry was put on display as Bran sat in his chair, wheeling himself around as he went through flashcards with Arya occasionally to see if Gendry would be able to answer everything.

When everything was set up, Gendry was forced to sit in his chair in front of the family as Bran came over, and for the first time since getting in the dining room, he noticed what Bran was wearing. It immediately made Gendry roll his eyes. Of course this fucking family…

In a bright purple blazer that was shimmering when it caught the light, it was just as overtop as Gendry should have expected from Bran. Well, from the Starks in general.

“Ok! Welcome to the Stark Royal Quiz night! Our contestant for this evening is Gendry Waters, a known royal idiot that can’t pick out a Stark from a Tully!” he announced, sending the family into a round of giggles. Gendry rolled his eyes.

“I hate this, I really fucking hate this,” he groaned, covering his eyes.

“Come on Gendry! You’ve got this!” Talisa yelled. Gendry cracked a smile, shaking his head.

“Take your top off!” Rickon yelled.

“Stop objectifying my boyfriend,” Arya spat back.

“Please this is a family show,” Catelyn said, and the room erupted.

“Wish you’d told me that a year ago,” Ygritte said, drinking her beer as she winked over to Gendry. He frowned as Jon spat out a laugh, one that he hadn’t realised was going to come out. His fiancee was certainly a funny one. But Gendry had learnt that very quickly. Ygritte wasn’t afraid to be herself, even when it came to the royals around her.

“Now, Gendry, please tell us more about yourself,” Bran said, offering his hand over like he had a microphone.

“Are you serious right now?!”

“Tell us! Tell us!” The family - save the two parents amongst the group - roared back at him.

“You guys need to get a life,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning into Bran’s hand. “I’m Gendry Waters and I hate this,” he said.

“Good enough!” Bran said quickly, turning away and pandering back to his family. “What category will we start with?”

“Why are there categories now?” Gendry shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

“Because fuck you that’s why!” he said, “So! Family, name, lands, or other!”

“Please just ask me questions, this is going to kill me,” Gendry said, throwing his head back.

“Ok, fine, have it your way,” Bran said, an obvious huff of irritation in his voice. “Even with the seven kingdoms, there are some that are not connected to the mainland,” Bran started, and Gendry frowned.

“Isn’t there only one? Essos?” he replied.

There was a long pause, the family all huddled together as though they were judging Gendry’s answer. Then, they all turned to Bran. “You are correct! It was a trick question. Bonus points for the ruler of that kingdom,” he said, waiting for Gendry to answer.

“Dothraki. Specifically Khal Drogo,” Gendry finished.

“Off to a great start!” Bran said.

After that, it was entertainment for the rest of the family, who drank and laughed and roared in approval at all of Gendry’s answers, even when they were wrong. Gendry got into it as much as the rest of them, the answers feeling like second nature, but he still got frustrated when the answer was wrong.

“No, I swear to fuck it’s the Martells!” Gendry challenged in a shout.

“No, Dothraki! Next question,” Bran played off.

“Oh come the fuck on!” Gendry huffed, sitting back in his chair with his arms folded.

“It’s ok, Martell’s would be honoured you thought so highly of them!” Talisa joked, much to the family's surprise. Robb leaned over to his wife, kissing at her cheek. For a moment, so singular and special, Gendry wondered if that would be him one day - happily married to the woman that he loved.

Bran came shooting in with another question. “Which family….has some relation to the Stark family?” There was a pause in the room, waiting for him to answer.

“Uh fuck, ok, I know this,” Gendry said, holding up his hand, trying to think.

“You have ten seconds,” Bran said quickly, which shot Gendry’s attention back to him.

“No I don’t, there isn’t a time on this thing,” he reminded, as they hadn’t been playing with any sort of time limit throughout the other questions asked that evening.

“Five seconds,” Bran said again.

“Tully! Tully! It’s the Tully family!” Gendry shouted, purely out of gut instinct.

“That is…” Bran teased, “correct! The matriarch of the Stark family, Catelyn Stark, was once known as Catelyn Tully. Please take a bow,” Bran said, and much to the amazement of the room, Catelyn stood, doing her best bow and settling back into her chair. “Now, who will be attending on behalf of the Tully family on Sunday night?”

“Jon Arryn?” Gendry said, unsure. The Riverlands were a strange area, as they were once run by the Tully’s before it was passed to another family through a strange number of circumstances.

“Yes!” Bran said, before he grimaced. “Who will unfortunately bring our cousin Robin, but that’s a different day,” Bran said, to which all of the siblings laughed.

“Bran,” she warned, “at least it isn’t Edmure,” Catelyn remarked. Edmure often tried to be more than just a king, which led him to be an absent king and give his title to Jon Arryn.

“Ha! God, I hate that bastard,” Ned chuckled to himself.

“I get to make fun of my brother, you don’t,” she warned her husband with a jab in the ribs.

Bran then wheeled around the front of the crowd of his family quickly, doing a little stunt to draw everyone’s attention to him.

“Ok! Lightning round! Man all the people coming on sunday and the Kingdoms they preside over!” He shot out his question and Gendry knew he had to answer fast. He sat up straight, gripping hard to his knees.

“Tywin Lannister, Westerlands. Daenerys Targaryn, Crownlands. Khal Drogo, Essos. Jon Arryn, Riverlands,” he started, stopping himself as he thought. “Ok gimme a second!” he shouted as the family began to laugh and get more into the quiz. “Oberyn Martell, Dorne? You guys, so Ned Stark, The North. Robert Baratheon, Stormlands.” He finished, making sure he listed everyone by counting it down on his hand. It felt right, but he waited before Bran shouted out.

“Yes!”

“Wow, he got that quicker than Jon,” Sansa laughed, sipping at her gin, the one that she had been consistently drinking over the course of the night.

“One family event, I just want one family event where I’m not emotionally traumatised,” Jon shouted as everyone started to pack up for the night. As soon as the family started to move, it gave Gendry a chance to breathe, and Arya moved to him, taking him by the hand and linking their fingers together.

“Oh darlin, that’s never going to happen,” Ygritte said.

“Your future wife fits right in,” Robb said.

“Also! Why haven’t you guys told everyone!” Ygritte said quickly, jumping over to Talisa and Robb.

“Gendry was shot! Arya wasn’t exactly with it, you know?” he confessed. Gendry and Arya looked at each other.

“What news?” Arya asked. She held tight to his hand, but he was about to have his suspicions confirmed.

“Robb and Talisa are -”

“No way!” Sansa shouted, covering her mouth and jumping over to her brother and his wife.

“You guys aren’t!” Arya said next.

“We’re expecting!” Talisa said with an excited giggle. It felt heartening that Gendry was included in such an announcement with the family.

“Holy fuck I’m gonna be the cool uncle!” Bran shouted.

“Why can’t you be the disable uncle and I’m the cool uncle?” Rickon said, to which Bran shot him a look. “Yeah that’s fair,” he said, and everyone chuckled at the resignation of him. As the family congratulated the couple, Gendry and Arya walked down the stairs slowly, finding their way to the staff entrance, and sneaking away from the family.

Gendry pulled away, ready to go to his car, when Arya tugged hard on his hand. “Hey,” she said, stopping him and pulling him back to her.

“I should get home,” he reminded Arya. She sighed, resting her chin on his chest and looking up towards him.

“I love you,” she confessed, as though it were the first time. Gendry smiled, leaning down to her, stealing a kiss from her lips.

“I love you too,” he replied, kissing her once more.

“Thank you for dealing with my family tonight,” she replied, letting them sway back and forth. Ever since he was shot, Arya was far more open about her feelings, he found. She said everything she needed to - and although they were doing so before, Arya wasn’t afraid to confess that she was desperately in love with him. He felt the same all the time.

“I love your family. Even though they embarrass me,” he shrugged. Arya laughed, cupping his cheek.

“That’s what family is for,” she reminded.

“Feels like home,” Gendry confessed, feeling far too open for a moment. He wanted to tell Arya...say more than he had, but it was hard. How was he meant to say what he needed to when it meant revealing far too much of what he saw.

“Feels more like home when you’re there,” Arya said, a flash of red running over her cheeks. He wondered if they wanted the same things, or if he was fooling himself. He didn’t wish to get scared of their future, just hopeful of where it would lead. Fear could wait for another day, he reasoned.

“I should go,” he reminded, kissing her one last time, hands slipping from hers. “I love you. Sleep well,” he told her.

“I will,” she said, hands going behind her back as he walked away, constantly looking over his shoulder at her, “call if something happens,” she shouted.

“You’ll be my first call, I promise,” he yelled back in return.

***

The day came, and Gendry was wearing his best suit. Well, it was new purely because Jon and Robb took him out to get one that was suitable for a royal gathering. Gendry wanted to remind them that Khal Drogo would be there, and his attire wasn’t anything like the royal prince’s, but it would be a fruitless venture.

He fiddled with his tie as he met with Jon Arryn and Oberyn Martell. They all took photos and thanked him for his service to the crown. They also regarded his bravery, and said his service didn’t go unrecognised, even throughout other kingdoms. Before he was to meet with the Lannisters, Arya came over to him. She was wearing a nice navy suit and a white wilk blouse underneath. She was a fashionable princess thanks much to Sansa for this particular event.

“Stop fucking with your tie! It’s going to look different in all the pictures,” Arya warned him, straightening out his tie for the fourth time that day. He huffed, before she had to leave and go towards her family for some pictures with the Martells.

Gendry was sure he’d be seeing the Lannisters next, he was certain of it. Yet, when it came down to it, Gendry felt his heart in his throat when he saw King Robert next. He was stern, almost menacing as he came closer to him. Gendry stood up straighter, trying to be as presentable as possibly. It scared the shit out of him. Then, Robert stopped in front of him.

“Your majesty,” Gendry greeted, bowing to the king.

Robert smiled as they came face to face, then, he clapped Gendry on the shoulder. “Good work son, it was very brave of you for doing what you did,” he said, clearing his throat, as though he recognised Gendry for a moment but couldn’t place him.

“Thank you,” Gendry replied. The two stared at one another before Robert moved, turning on his heels and shouting as he saw Ned. Gendry met the Lannisters briefly before a familiar head of white hair came running through.

“Gendry!” Daenerys yelled, embracing Gendry and he held her back just as tightly. Their meeting was short the first time, but they left perfect impressions on the other. “I heard and instantly wanted to run, but I have a country to run and -”

“Bull!” Khal Drogo yelled, making everyone in the room jump.

“Drogo. You know he hasn’t met you before, stop scaring him,” Dany warned, swatting at his stomach lightly.

“Arya just talked about him and I know he’s big bullheaded idiot!”

“Thank you, Khal,” Gendry said back, offering to shake his hand. Drogo bat it away as he embraced Gendry off of his feet then back down again as he spoke.

“Drogo! You are a warrior through and through, my people would be proud of you,” he said, batting at Gendry’s chest, which cause the impact spot as much pain as when he was shot. Gendry groaned as he clutched his chest, and Drogo laughed, hooking his arm around Gendry’s shoulder.

For the remainder of the day, it was formal proceedings that they had organised to discuss what they would choose to implement change amongst the seven kingdoms to make them more united and less divided as they once were.

As Gendry stood to the side with Arya and the rest of the family as Robb took point with Ned, she leaned over to him. “So,” she whispered, “King Robert talked to you?”

“I’m glad Dany came over,” Gendry whispered back.

“Are you alright?”

Gendry shrugged, “I’ll be fine. As long as I don’t interact with him for long, I’ll be ok,” he said, and Arya tugged on the back of his jacket. It was the only form of affection they could give each other as Gendry reached behind his back, touching at her fingertips as lightly as he could. Her hand slipped down to his, touching their hands against each other for the briefest of moments before it was gone.

The night wound down easily, the family gathering ending as each royal had to travel back to their homeland, Arya and gendry walked to her room, weaving their way through the castle to kill the time. Gendry suspected they’d be visited by Sansa or the two youngest boys at one stage, but he didn’t mind - it wasn’t like they were planning on doing anything exciting once they got to her room. At the bottom of the stairs, ready to climb for the fourth time, they were met by a figure at the top of the staircase.

“Gendry, may I speak with you?” Catelyn asked, her head tilting towards her office. Gendry gave a nod back to her.

“Of course,” he said, looking to Arya with a smile. “I’ll be right back,” he said, kissing her cheek.

“Don’t take too long,” she said. “Oh! Mum, can Gendry stay the night?” Arya asked, and as Gendry looked at the Queen, he went stiff, his entire body feeling trapped in one embarrassing moment. She glanced between the pair before she rolled her eyes.

“Yes. But as I know you’re injured, I don’t expect anything to happen,” Catelyn remarked, “am I right, Mister Waters?” she asked, with a glare that could kill a person on sight if they weren’t prepared. Seven hells, Gendry almost died and he was prepared for the scolding she was ready to unleash.

“Yes, your majesty,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Stop scaring him and go,” Arya warned as Gendry followed the queen.

As they made it to her office, it was a complete surprise when the door closed. In a moment, Gendry was held so tightly, it was like the air had been sucked from his lungs. The queen held him tight, and the echo of a sob came out that made him look down.

“Oh!” he gasped, “Your majesty,” he said softly, stroking her arm to comfort her. She backed away, clearing her face of tears that stained her cheeks. He held her by the shoulders, making sure she was ok as he inspected her.

“You almost gave your life for my son, and I cannot express how thankful I am for you,” she said with another sob leaving her chest. She covered her mouth and for a moment, it tore him in two; a subject of a royal, or the need to comfort like only a son could comfort his mother. The latter took over, as he brought her back into his chest and held her for a brief hug, keeping her small cries silenced by his chest.

“It was all part of the job, your majesty,” he remarked. Staying put for a moment, she left his embrace, wiping her face clean once more and composing herself.

“I understand,” she remarked with a sniff, “but please, and I know you’ve been trying not to, but don’t break that girl’s heart again. It was brutal enough the first time around,” she warned, and Gendry agreed with her.

“It was never the intention, your majesty,” he said, taking a bow, heart in his throat at how natural everything seemed to be falling into place. Then, a knock came to the door, and in walked the king with a cup of tea for the queen. “Oh, good, you majesty is here too. May I please speak with you both?” Gendry started, the two listening to him throughout their entire conversation, leaving it on good terms.

Gendry walked to Arya’s room, finding her in her bed, her arms folded an a deep scowl on her face.

“I thought you would have been asleep. I was talking with your mum for a while,” Gendry said, loosening his tie and kick off his shoes.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Arya said, and Gendry stopped. He cautiously took off his jacket, undoing his belt and trying hard to strip down to his underwear as possibly without aggravating Arya.

“That doesn’t sound good,” he said, trying to kick off his pants, seeing if her reaction changed.

“No! I just wanna talk,” she reasoned, letting her body loose, obviously realising her mistake of posture.

“Ok,” he said, finding her spare set of boxers and loose singlet he could wear in her bed. After he was dressed, he snuck into bed beside Arya, holding onto her hand as she seemed to come up with the courage to say what she wanted.

“I’m not going to ask you to stop,” she said, and Gendry took in a breath, as he realised what conversation he was having. “I know you like your work and it’s what brought us together.”

“But…”

“I just want you to be more careful. Put Robb in front of the bullet next time,” she said, and Gendry chuckled.

“Arry,” he smiled.

“Yeah I know, it’s treason,” she said, pouting.

“I love you.” He leaned over to her, catching her chin in between his thumb and finger, kissing her quickly. “I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

“I know you will. You can’t stop danger all the time. Just...try not to get shot,” she asked weakly, looking at him with caution.

“Trust me, I never want to get shot again,” he laughed and Arya hit his arm for being an idiot. “Can we go to bed now?”

“Yes,” she said, and Gendry lept at his chance to curl her into his embrace, holding her tightly and kissing behind her ear. He just wanted her to know he held her as tenderly as she deserved.

*~*~*

When Sansa arrived in Arya’s room that morning, ready to finally tell her sister who she was dating, she wasn’t quite expecting to see what she did. In the bed slept Arya and Gendry wrapped in sheets and each other’s embrace.

Sansa’s news could wait, because for the first time, she had seen Arya fully and perfectly protected.

#gendrya #gendry x arya #arya x gendry #gendrya fic #got fic #my fics #cfois #chivalry fell on its sword

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charmingturkeysandwich · 4 years

Text

I Could Use a Love Song - Ch 1: givin’ up on love, hey love’s given up on me

Summary: Emma Swan, small town orphan and up-and-coming country singer, is known for her voice, her penchant for leather, and her overall (earned) anger toward the world. She’s had a rough go of it – rough enough that every single song of hers is angry or sad – but on the road something (or someone) happens that might change her tune.

(Spoiler Alert: it’s Killian. Cue the gasps of shock.)

Also on AO3.

---

The upside to a truly shitty adolescence? Lyrical inspiration.

Emma Swan grew up a little bit all over the place, but primarily in a small town that was most definitely above the Mason-Dixon line and yet half its population spoke with some kind of southern-esque drawl. Confederate flags were common on Chevy trucks. Friday nights in the Fall were dedicated to high school football and absolutely nothing else. Their town’s only radio station was country, though it played seven different church services on Sunday mornings. To say that the whole town’s dynamic read like a cliché country song… it was more obvious than Emma’s bright red leather jacket in a crowd of cotton camo.

So no one was particularly surprised when the beautiful, damaged orphan with the voice of a (really pissed off) angel hit the road with a country band.

They might not have been surprised, but oh did they talk. After her falling out with the pastor’s son and her quick escape to Pittsburgh, she was every negative stereotype of famous in a small town you could conjure. Lily, the closest thing she’d had to a friend outside of Neal, son of Pastor Gold, would keep her updated on the rumors and the hearsay. Not that she wanted to know, necessarily. She’d rather imagine that her name had simply fallen out of the collective memory of that god forsaken town. But it hadn’t. Her story was on the tongues of every bar patron, Baptist, and boy scout leader north of I-80.

It wasn’t her story, though. Not really. The tales they told of Emma Swan always somehow ended up with her as the villain and not the fairy tale princess, the lost girl with no choice but to suffer at the hands of assholes.

Her parents had been shit. Drug addicts, apparently, and she’d been taken from them. She’d been passed through the foster system from ages 3-12, the best foster parents mostly ignoring her and the worst… well, she couldn’t afford the therapy to even attempt to go there.

She’d wound up with an OK but definitely half-crazy woman by the name of Sarah just before she turned 13 and that’s where she’d stayed, that hick town that just couldn’t get enough of her little sob story. That’s where she’d met Neal, the charismatic son of one of the town’s pastors. His dad had seemed nice enough, did a lot of community work and even owned several businesses, boasting of his commitment to boosting the local economy. For once she’d thought she’d found some people who didn’t suck who might make her life at least somewhat normal.

She, as usual, was wrong. Pastor Gold was… well, off. Way too angry for a dude preaching the New Testament each week. But at least he’d never hurt her. No, that privilege was reserved for Neal, who would beat her to a bloody pulp and then tell his daddy’s flock all about saving his sweet girl from a drug deal gone wrong (poor thing ended up like her parents despite the best efforts of the system, you see).

It was pathetic. And after she went to jail for having the gall to defend her own life from that sociopath, well, that was it. She dropped out of high school during the homecoming pep rally and hopped a bus to the city.

That had been years ago now, of course, but it was her origin story, as they say, and something very important to her on-stage personality. And her internal struggle.

Life had fucked her over and she was pissed. And so for five years after leaving that sleepy, secret-filled little town, all she ever really focused on was her anger. She’d write lyrics on truck stop napkins and sit in a half-stranger’s basement strumming chords on the guitar she’d stolen from the church rectory (she wasn’t sorry). She started out performing at open mic nights and then somehow found some of Her People, those who loved country music but maybe hadn’t grown up in a Dixie Chicks song (if only she could have Goodbye Earl’ed that son of a bitch high school boyfriend of hers before he ever laid a hand on someone new…).

(At least he ended up in prison. You know, eventually.)

(And, hey, her rage got her out there and selling records. But that was on her, not him. Nobody saves me but me, she always said. And she wasn’t about to thank a monster just because she survived slaying it.)

Tonight’s show was in a dive bar in upstate New York and Emma was so damn ready for it. She and Ruby had done a few shots of tequila before slipping on their tight jeans and leather jackets, and David had just finished setting up their brand new sound system that made them sound like they could actually be on CMT and not just playing from someone’s garage. David and Mary Margaret, they were like Johnny and June with their sweetness and Emma could hardly stomach it. But they were her friends, her actual honest-to-god, wouldn’t-rat-her-out-to-the-forest-service-for-underage-drinking friends and she loved them. She loved them and Ruby and even Graham in the only way she knew how: teasing insults, cases of beer, and not running away in the middle of the night even when she was feeling like her whole world could crash town with one wrong word from herself or anyone else.

(She really did need therapy beyond the catharsis of angry singing to half-drunk strangers. Someday, maybe.)

Friend love was a strange, but manageable thing. Well, mostly. But romantic love? Absolutely fucking not. After she left Neal and that town, after she drank away the pain and the frustration, well she thought maybe she’d give romance another try. Turned out the next guy was even worse, somehow, leaving her bruised and bloody when she turned down his marriage proposal at a fancy restaurant in Cleveland (yeah, those exist). The physical pain she had been used to, but the emotional… he called her every name she didn’t deserve and a few that she probably did, and when he finished her off with a few choice comments about the baby she’d lost after Neal threw her out a moving car, well she was done. For good. Never ever would she trust a man again. Preacher’s son or furniture salesman – they were all just… evil. She couldn’t ever again take that chance.

But tonight – tonight she wasn’t thinking about romance or even the past, not beyond the bits and pieces that had made their way into her songs. She was happy, buzzed, excited. Their little tour bus (well, van) family was rising in the ranks and soon she could move far away and get her own apartment overlooking the thriving streets of Nashville. Soon she would be so busy with interviews and music video shoots that she wouldn’t have a single second to spare a thought to those who had hurt her. Soon she would be so rich she wouldn’t ever feel lonely because she’d always have male company in the form of all her Benjamins she’d backstroke through like Scrooge McDuck.

The previous night Mary Margaret had tried to set Emma up with the singer of their opening act, a guy they called August who carried a typewriter instead of a guitar (who she’d definitely seen leaving with a drunk after she’d turned him down, by the way), so Emma had already had her monthly I Don’t Want Love chat with her hopeless romantic friend. Meaning today she was free and clear to just… enjoy this new life she’d spent years building on the bones of all the good girls she could have been.

She high-fived Ruby and David kissed her on the cheek as they took the stage, starting the guitar riff as Emma sauntered out to the opening words of the song. This was one of her crowd favorites, a good one to set the tone for what kind of show to expect, and she was melting into her confident, badass, devil-may-care persona easily by the time they hit the first chorus.

I’m goin’ home, gonna load my shotgun

Wait by the door and light a cigarette

He wants a fight, well now he’s got one

And he ain’t seen me crazy yet

A few people in the front row were singing along and her heart was bursting with pride that she was on this road, that she’d turned such a goddamn nightmare of a life into something positive and productive and while overall it still wasn’t healthy… she damn well was on the road to actually being someone. To finally shutting up the idiots back in Pennsyltucky who were convinced she wasn’t going to amount to anything but a statistic just like her parents (despite having never even tried any drug beyond alcohol and nicotine, the judgmental fucks).

One thing that entertained her beyond reason was listening to Mary Margaret sing backup vocals on the songs Emma wrote. Emma liked to call Mary’s on-stage persona Snow White Trash and Ruby insisted that be the name of the band’s first mainstream album when their big break finally came and Emma actually fucking laughed in the middle of performing her angry song that night because she couldn’t stop thinking about the mismatch.

So when the song was over she apologized to the crowd, told them how much she loved her band and her friends, even the hilariously innocent of them, and asked someone to pass her a beer so she could stop the chuckles from trickling out during the next song.

Next on their set list was one that had been co-written by Emma and Ruby, two girls from two very different small towns, who still had so much shared experience. It used to hurt her to sing it, the depressing nature of where she came from threatening to swallow her whole, until Graham came to her one night after the show, quieted her tearful sobs with a kiss and told her to just pretend it was a movie. She was just telling a story. It wasn’t her town or Ruby’s… it was nothing but fiction.

And that’s how she belted it all out totally devoid of those pesky feelings that made her wish she could just crawl under a rock rather than relive her trauma for the seventy third time this fucking year.

If you ain’t got two kids by 21, you’re probably gonna die alone

At least that’s what tradition told you

This song was a lesser known of theirs so they don’t have as many mouthing the words back, but the energy in the crowd is still so high, despite this song being a little more bummer than banger. So she scans the crowd, watches the faces of the drunk, the joyful, the brooding, and best of all, those who understand.

Off to the left, just at the edge of the stage, she saw probably the hottest man she’d ever seen in real life. Black leather jacket, artfully mussed hair, a smirk that could charm her pants right off if she let him.

It’s not that hot guys didn’t come to their shows. They definitely did. But they were usually more the Jake Owen or Luke Bryan type, the ones that look like they were ready to meet your mama by the third date. This guy, he didn’t seem the take-home-to-parents type (just the kind for her, having no parents and all).

But there was something else different about him. Standing just off stage, standing alone, glancing toward David every so often. He looked a bit too confident, comfortable, like he already had some kind of connection to her makeshift little family, and that set up some red flags.

She was not accepting applications for any new friends at the moment. Or maybe ever.

She’d been staring just a little and people tended to notice stuff like that so of course he eventually locked eyes with her, for just a fleeting moment, and there was something in that one glance that told her he knew what she was singing, how she felt, on a level that most others just… didn’t.

So naturally she broke the gaze and didn’t look back.

Jack and Jill went up the hill.

Jack burned out on booze and pills.

Mary had a little lamb.

Mary just don’t give a damn no more.

From there, Mary Margaret had taken over lead vocals, her cover of Strawberry Wine a nice balm to the mood-dampener that Merry-Go-Round always was. And every show without fail, she always took that transition to gloat about how she’s most definitely not the Mary from that song because she has David and loves him so much and Emma almost always makes the universal gesture for “gag me” to the crowd eliciting laughter and a few errant woo’s.

She didn’t tonight.

First taste of love, oh

Bittersweet

And green on the vine

Like strawberry wine

(sorry Deana Carter, but there wasn’t always some sweet.)

They closed the show with Kerosene, like they always did: high-energy, twangy, and true-to-form for their actual fans. The whole bar was on their feet, jumping and swaying and shouting and spilling their $4 beers on the guy beside them but no one really cared because they were sharing a moment, Emma and each of them, singing out their anger and sadness and ten years of life’s-not-fair.

Crazy how a three minute song could effectively patch the wounds of a whole life.

And, yeah, maybe it wasn’t really patching anything. Maybe it was just distraction. Maybe she was just as much a drug addict as her parents, but her drug was the stage and the music and the connection she shared with every other person in each and every bar who didn’t get the benefit of a first love like any kind of wine.

She sang her song from the diaphragm – broadway voice – but it was like it came all the way from her toes. It was always her anger that defined her, drove her, made her feel alive.

Why not lean into it?

I gave it everything I had

And everything I got was bad

Life ain’t hard but it’s too long

To live it like some country song

Trade the truth in for a lie

Cheating really ain’t a crime

I’m giving up on love, cause love’s given up on me

Songs sung, merch sold, and bar tab closed, Emma headed toward the crew’s van, ready to sleep off the liquor in the third row seats while the lovebirds took the hotel room above the bar and Ruby and Graham found someone’s bed to put their boots under for the night.

It was odd, feeling like the fifth wheel when truly there was only one couple in the band. But Ruby and Graham, they were so in sync with where they were in their life – jand it was just not what Emma was looking for – that she still ended up left out.

Which was fine. Everything was just fine.

Until her path to the van was obstructed by the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life, the smoldering-eyed, confident guy who’d nearly made her forget her own lyrics before she’d promptly remembered to forget him and any other person who might possibly hold the potential to make her heart skip.

(Hearts aren’t meant to skip. That’s not love; it’s a trip to the cardiologist.)

He was definitely about to annoy her, so shouldn’t he look properly… annoying? Not like a goddamn model. That was distracting her from her annoyance and inevitable hate. Because a girl like her? Every song lyric and leather jacket was a clear message: leave me the fuck alone.

He clearly wasn’t receiving the signal.

“Swan, I presume?” he finally spoke, her eyes certainly glaring daggers at him despite her tiredness and BAC.

“Uh, obviously? What do you want.” (It wasn’t a question.)

“To introduce myself, of course! Killian Jones, at your service.”

She stopped a few feet from him, one hand on her hip and the other reaching for the cigarettes in the back pocket of her jeans.

“I’m not interested in any services beyond handing me a lighter. Can you manage that one?”

He smirked at her and reached into his jacket, the click of the zippo lighter in his hand echoing off the brick alley the van was parked in. With a quick flick of his thumb there was a flame and he offered it to her, his eyes burning with something other than the reflection of the fire.

“Ah, yes, that’s something even a one-handed bloke like me can manage.” He clicked the lighter closed and deposited it back in his jacket, only to reveal his left arm – ending at the wrist – from where it had been tucked behind him.

Emma deflated a little, some compassion left inside her despite the unwanted nature of his approaching her. “OK, Captain Hook, what exactly do you want from me?”

(She had compassion, but also very little candor. For the record.)

“Ah, yes, I’ve never heard that one before,” he muttered, rolling his eyes and finally looking like he was receiving her please-go-away signals, but he still soldiered on. “I was meant to be here before the show started, but I had some trouble finding this hole-in-the-wall. I presume by your attitude that Dave didn’t warn you I was coming?”

“You presume correctly. Can you please get on with whatever garbage is happening here? I swear if they put you up to asking me out or something I’m going to kill them. Mary Margaret especially. Because we just talked about this and I know that it’s not your fault that they’re such meddlers but I swear I’m pretty much the same girl who sings on stage in real life and I absolutely want nothing to do with men. Or women, for that matter… I’m not a person who dates and if they thought..”

“Love, please stop. No, I’m not here to ask you out. Believe me, I know I’m not what you need. I mean, technically I am, but not in the romantic sense.”

He paused and waggled his eyebrows and Emma was too tired to roll her eyes so she just closed them, willing the moment to pass. “I’ve been hired to work for you. All of you. Roadie. Can’t play notes on a guitar anymore, but I can haul them in and out of these dumps you lot perform in.”

Ah. He was the guy David had suggested they hire but the group had then rejected the idea and apparently David decided to overrule them all because why would Prince Charming listen to a democratic band vote, anyway? (Ugh.)

“Can you maybe stop insulting the patrons that pay us since that same money is going to be what pays you?”

Drunk laugher and electronic music pulsed out of the back door of the bar they’d played in not long before. Almost closing time now. Emma needed to get out of the open before she had to break someone’s wrist for drunkenly groping her. Again.

“Ah, of course, love,” he replied, finally seeming to be at least somewhat chagrined. “Now if you could point me in the direction of our sleeping quarters, I’ll leave you to your business.”

“First of all, I am not your love. We’ve covered this already and I need you to keep up. Second, do you really think we make enough to have quarters? I’m not entirely sure how we’re going to both pay you and eat. So.”

“So, what exactly does that mean for you or I, Swan?” he emphasized her last name in an effort to prove he was capable of using titles other than ridiculous British terms of endearment.

“Well, Jones, that means that either you go shack up with David and the missus (10/10 would not recommend; Mary gets very horny while drunk and her voice carries), or you do like Graham or Ruby and find a local to make gross sex noises with. Or whatever they do. Don’t know, don’t ask, don’t care.”

“And you, princess?” His tone was a challenge. He wanted her to object to the sickly sweet nickname. And she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“I sleep in the van. And I do not cuddle.”

“Oh, it’s not cuddling I’m looking for,” he purred, waggling his stupid eyebrows again. (This time she did roll her eyes, annoyed enough to expend the limited energy she still possessed.)

“Then go find someone willing, buddy. Like I said.”

He shook his head and laughed, already turning back toward the van. “Damn. David said you were difficult, but I wasn’t expecting this. I’ll sleep wherever you don’t. Unless you snore?”

“No, I do not snore!”

“Great. Then we’ll get along just dandy.” He waited next to the van until Emma pulled out the fob to unlock it, sliding open the big door a second after the beep-beep to signal entry. “After you, not anyone’s love.”

“Thanks, Captain. I’ll be in the back. Touch me at your peril.”

They each crawled into the van and settled at opposite ends. Emma tossed Killian a blanket and Killian tossed Emma a pillow that had been lodged in the front seat and they both drifted off to the sounds of Garth Brooks on the Pandora radio Ruby had bought her to ward away the nightmares that inevitably accompanied the silence.

#cs ff #cs au #cs fanfic #cs fanfiction #keisha writes #first chapter #I've done emo AU #now it's time for the other music of pain #that's country music #at least that's what xander says #this has been a buffy reference in the tags of an ouat story #have a nice day

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crashdevlin · 5 years

Text

Bottle- 11: Mission, the First

Bottle Masterlist

Author’s Note: Originally posted to ao3 (This is an edited and improved version), I work in info from the comics (Like Hawkeye was married to Mockingbird and Red Skull had a disappointing daughter) and I took a few liberties with what the scepter could do (but not really because the Mind Stone was used to create the Twins so what I did is not that far-fetched). This is a lot more angst than I realized when I wrote it, but it’s compelling angst.

Summary: Cassandra Campbell is a Stark Industries lab tech with dubious genetics and a history with the new Director of SHIELD. She’s been working in New York since right before the Chitauri invasion. What does she have to do with Loki, and what will happen when he returns? Starts post TDW and continues to the end of AoU.

Pairing(s): Phil Coulson x OFC (Past), Loki x OFC (Non-con), Clint Barton x OFC, Steve Rogers x OFC

Word Count: 2133

Story Warnings: So many, worst (to me) are bolded. Younger woman/older man relationship,non-con, mutilation, torture, mind control, PTSD, depression, alcoholism, forced abortions, bad things (non-con) in a church, insomnia, memory manipulation, eventual consensual oral sex (female and male receiving),

Chapter Warnings: none

Tony dropped her near the back side of the compound and she started pushing toward the back. As she rounded the side of a brick wall, Cassie heard boots crunch behind her.

"Who are you? Turn around," the guard ordered.

Cassie resisted the urge to put her hands up, instead putting an indignant look on her features as she turned. The two guards had their machine guns raised and were noticeably confused by the blond girl in the T-shirt and jeans, creeping through the snow. "Zat's a bad idea." She inflected a German accent to her words. "I'm here to see Herr Strucker. Put zee guns down, take me to him and you probably von't be disemboweled for your insolence."

"Who are you?" the taller of the guards demanded.

"If you don't know, zen you von't know. Get on your little radio and tell Strucker 'Junior has come home'. Zose exact vords, no defiation. Strucker vill know vat it means."

They stared at her for a moment before the shorter one lower his gun and pulled out a radio. "Herr Strucker?"

"What?" came from the little speaker.

"We found a woman by the wall. She says she's here for you. She said to tell you 'Junior has come home'?"

The silence on the other end dragged on for several moments before static came through the radio. "Bring her inside."

Cassie walked between the two guards and was brought into the compound. As she walked through the compound, she noticed a young woman and a man standing together, off to the side near several computers. She was placed in a room with a desk and left alone. An overhead speaker came on in the office, and an alert went out. "Report to your stations immediately. This is not a drill. We are under attack. We are under attack."

Over the comm in her ear, which Tony had set so she could hear, but no one could hear her, she heard Tony exclaim "Shit!" and Steve respond with "Language!". As the action heated up outside the compound, Cassie took the comm out of her ear and dropped it in her pocket. Strucker opened the door and locked it behind him.

"452. You've grown into a beautiful young woman. Where have you been?"

"Vell, after you abandoned me at Der Speilplatz, Fury took me to zee Fridge. You know about zee Fridge, yes? It vas a prison. I spent 10 years in a SHIELD prison. I, eventually, von the love of a high-level agent who had Fury's ear and he arranged for my release. I convinced zem all zat I vas... normal, zat I'd fallen for zeir brainvashing. I'd have come to find you earlier, but Fury vasn't entirely convinced. He had an agent tailing me. After zee Battle of New York, I had a chance. I vas vorking to find you, specifically, but you idiots sought it vould be a great time to unveil yourselves, so zat Captain America could dismantle everysing ve spent 70 years creating in secret. You must be so proud."

"Well, we tried to find you, to bring you home."

"You didn't try hard enough. Ten years, Volfgang, and two more whoring myself to a man almost shree times my age so zat I could keep zee act going. And here I find you vis SHIELD artifacts, doing experiments to make people half as strong as me. Vhy didn't you just come find me?"

A nervous look came over Strucker's face. "I didn't know you'd developed abilities. Listen, you need... this building is under attack. We need to get you out of here. You are more important than anything in this compound."

"Even your little projects?" She feigned a mild jealousy. "Go rally zee men, Volfgang. I'm not going anyvere."

"All right, 452. Stay out of sight. Stay safe."

"It's Joanna, Baron."

"Joanna, then," Strucker said, walking out the door.

Cassie watched as the man walked away. She grabbed her ear piece from her pocket and placed it back into her ear. "Stark, we need to get inside." Steve's voice came through the comm.

"I'm closing in. Jarvis, am I... closing in? Do you see a power source for that shield?" Tony responded. Cassie felt that was a question more for her, than for Jarvis, so she ran around to the other side of the desk and pulled out the drawers, looking for a clue of where to start. After finding nothing, she slipped out the door and headed to the right. She followed a staircase up to find a large glowing column.

"There's a pathway below the North tower," Jarvis said in her ear.

"Great. I wanna poke it with something," Stark said.

"Good idea," Cassie said to herself, picking up a piece of pipe leaning against the wall and jamming it into the middle of the generator. It sparked, then exploded, tossing her into the wall.

"Drawbridge is down, people," Tony said.

"The enhanced?" Thor asked.

"He's a blur. All the new players we've faced, I've never seen this," Steve answered. "In fact, I still haven't."

"Clint's hit pretty bad, guys. We're gonna need evac," Romanoff came over the comm, causing Cassie to sit up. Clint was hurt and she wasn't out there where she could help. She wasn't where she should be.

"I can get Barton to the jet. The sooner we're gone, the better. You and Stark secure the scepter." Thor seemed to answer Cassie's concerns. She slowly stood, content that Tony and Steve would be inside soon and the situation would diffuse, now that she'd done her part.

"Copy that."

"It looks like they're lining up," Thor mused.

"Well, they're excited," Cap responded, before a sound of explosion came through.

"Find the scepter," Thor ordered.

"And for gosh sake, watch your language!" Stark teased.

Steve sighed. "That's not going away anytime soon."

Cassie slowly found her way back down the stairs. She went to the opposite side of the hall when she came to the bottom of the stairs, quickly catching up to Steve as he found Strucker. She was down the stairs from where Steve emerged. "Baron Strucker. HYDRA's number one thug."

"Technically, I'm a thug for SHIELD," Strucker quipped.

"Well, then technically, you're unemployed. Where's Loki's scepter?"

"Don't worry, I know when I'm beat. You'll mention how I cooperated, I hope."

"I'll put it under illegal human experimentation. How many are there?" Steve asked as the brunette in the red coat came up behind Steve and blasted him with some sort of energy. He flew down the stairs, where Cassie grabbed him, helping him up. Steve gave her a confused look, before saying, "We have a second enhanced. Female. Do not engage."

"You'll have to be faster than-" Strucker began before Steve bashed him with his shield.

"Guys, I got Strucker," He said.

"Yeah. I got... something bigger," Tony said, over the comms as Steve picked Strucker up, turning to Cassie.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the jet."

"Tony had another idea. I jumped at it. You wouldn't have wanted to wait at the damn jet, either. Just like you didn't want to wait at the base while Bucky and hundreds of Americans were rotting in a Hydra camp."

"Yeah? What was Tony's idea?"

"I got us in. I brought the shields down, not Iron Man. That man, there, Baron Wolfgang von Strucker, he knows me. Knew me. I used that to get inside, used the distraction of the battle in the woods to get to the generator in the North tower and I blew that shit up. Pardon my language," she said, with a small smirk.

"Not you, too."

"Of course, me too. Now, you want some help with Strucker, or are you gonna muscle that mound of meat out of here yourself?"

"I got him. Get back to the jet. Please, be careful. Watch out for the enhanced," he said, a concerned tone in his voice.

"Yes, sir."

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

Cassie sat next to Clint on the jet, not leaving his side to join the conversation around the jet. She'd heard Banner lamenting his change and the HYDRA agents he'd killed, but no one had said anything about the fact that she was the third-to-last person to get on the jet. Natasha had glared at her several times, but she'd focused on Clint and the massive hole in his side. At some point in the flight, Clint had reached over, weakly, and grabbed her hand.

As Clint was pulled off the quinjet to be operated on, Cassie was told to stay back. Tony grabbed her and pulled her to the lab. She stared at the scepter as Tony scanned it. "You did good. I'm impressed."

"Well, impressing you is always at the forefront of my mind, Tony."

"No, it's good. I can trust you. And by that, I mean I can convince you to go behind the backs of our teammates and take credit for your work."

Cassie laughed. "I just really wanted that scepter in Asgardian hands. Where it'll be safe. Any means necessary."

"And that had nothing to do with you being offended that Cap told you to wait in the car while the rest of us played exterminator for a giant serpent?"

"Well, that won't happen again, right? I've proven myself. I spent more time in that compound than anyone else."

"Sure," Tony said, succinctly, before continuing. "Unless the reason he wanted you to hang back was less about your capabilities and more about him worrying for your safety."

"Well, he shouldn't be worrying about me. I'm perfectly capable of-"

"What you're capable of doesn't matter. This isn't about your training or your track record. I put you in that compound because you survived a week in the Alps in a hospital gown and then blended in with a small Austrian town. You were born for this shit. Maybe not meant to be on this side of it, but... Cap's issue is not your ability to do this. This is about how upset he is on the idea of you dying without him having a chance to be modestly immodest with you."

Cassie scoffed. "I thought he got the memo. I'm not doing the dating thing. Shit's complicated enough without that mess."

"He didn't get that memo. And you know, he's the boss, really, so... we can keep sneaking behind the boss' back or..."

"If the next words out of your mouth are anything akin to 'take one for the team', I'll walk."

Tony shrugged. "I'm good with things as is."

Cassie sighed. "I'll talk to Steve. Make sure we're good. But I'm not fucking him just because I'm the first one he's wanted since he lost Agent Carter."

"No one said..."

Cassie shook her head. "I'll deal with this. You... concentrate on the scepter."

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

Cassie walked the halls of the upper levels of Stark tower, rehearsing what she would say to Steve, for forty-five minutes before she ran into him. "Hi, Steve."

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"Nothing. I've got nothing. I'm trying to not think too much. I don't wanna say I'm floundering... but I'm floundering. I mean, yeah, the scepter's safe, but Loki's still MIA, and the Avengers are about to break apart until the next time the Earth needs it's mightiest heroes and I don't know what to do with that downtime. Then, there's the awkward elephant in the room."

"You wanna know if we're okay?" Steve asked, succinctly.

"Yeah. I mean... I followed Tony's orders instead of yours. I know that was a slap in the-"

"Cassie, it's fine. I understand. I shouldn't have tried to keep you out of the fight. Never tell him I said this, but Stark was right. There was better use of your time."

She smiled. "I'm glad."

"Look, I understand how downtime can be a bit disconcerting. I know it's not Austria but I'm sure you can find something peaceful to do."

"Austria wasn't peaceful. It was mind numbing, which is what I wanted at the time. I prefer the city, though. Look, I... Pepper wants me to go back to work in the lab, but... I think that would be more boring than working a grill. Please, tell me that you have something useful for me to-"

"Actually, I don't. The only thing I have is tracking those two enhanced. Why don't you check on Barton? I think Doc's finished patching him up. After that, we'll discuss ways that we can put your skills and enhancements to good use. Even if the Avengers aren't assembled, we have use for you. Stick around. Oh, and there's the party."

"I will stick around for that. Definitely. I mean, I live right downstairs," Cassie said, walking away.

KITCHEN SINK TAGS @heyitscam99 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mrs-meghan-winchester @henrymorganme @lonely-skys @allykat2108

#cassie writes stuff #red queen chronicles #ofc #steve/ofc

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blue3ski · 6 years

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Glenya Settings Prompt Fill: 28

Exactly 3 months to this day, Pure Anon, you asked for #28 of a settings prompt. I initially had something vague but very very different in mind, but while I was rereading the Twilight series over the past week, this newborn idea just…bit me :D

I’m sorry for taking forever, but finally, finally here we are! Glenya… with a Twilight vampire twist (I really do like my vampires!) I’m not sure how well you know the series, but as always, drop me an ask and I’ll be happy to answer all the questions (I also have quite a few headcanons about this AU :D)

Settings: Snowstorm (musical inspiration: Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls

The law must be upheld.

Gleb had been bound by the law since he was human. It was fitting that even beyond that, he remained bound.

He wrapped his ash-colored cloak more tightly around himself as the wind picked up, howling in his ears and blowing the hood off his head. White ice battered his face, attempting to shield his view. Not that it mattered. No vampire would be deterred by something as mundane as a snowstorm, not least a member of the Volturi guard. Especially with the threat that loomed.

The Romanians could not be allowed to return. It would destroy the world of secrecy the Volturi had worked so hard to build for all vampires’ sake.

It had long since been assumed that the ancient coven, which had ruled openly and shamelessly among the humans, had died out. It had been over a thousand years, after all, since the Volturi had deposed them. There were a few stragglers out there, but nothing, it seemed, the guard had needed to trouble themselves with, weak, broken, and petrified as they were.

Then, shortly after the Russian Revolution, whispers reached Aro’s ears. The Romanians were gathering again. One more member of the ruling class had survived – one was who younger, stronger, more gifted than the others had been. One, he said, around whom the remains could rally, if she were to find them.

Anastasia.

And Gleb was the best tracker the Volturi had. There was no question of sending anybody else.

His sharp ears picked up the faint chugging of an approaching train. His dark raiment was far too obvious against the snow, and he made quickly for the silhouette of the nearby trees. As the locomotive came closer, so did the scent of human blood, igniting the usual burn in his throat. But thirst was unimportant. The law came first, always the law.

He watched the cars pass, idly considering his need to hunt by tonight. Just as he was about to turn away, he caught a different scent in the air. Something more than human.

Rosemary. Grapefruit. Sandalwood. Immediately, he straightened, all his senses on high alert. He burst silently from his hiding place and made a running leap, managing to land on top of the last car.

Gleb never doubted his instincts.

“Why are we hiding in the baggage car?” Anya asked again from where she sat on the floor.

Dmitry ran a hand through his hair as he pressed against the door, looking tense. “I felt something. It’s not safe.”

Anya sighed and leaned her head against the wall. The snowstorm had made it cold, which was a comfort as the train rumbling along the tracks under her feet was doing nothing to quell her pounding head. From the other end of the baggage car, Vlad shrugged.

She had always had the headaches, ever since she could remember, accompanied by flashes of fiery scenes and metallic screeching. They had intensified with her meeting Dmitry and Vlad – initially, this had excited the men, who thought she had the gift of foresight. But nothing she saw had ever made sense, and so their enthusiasm had dimmed, the migraines becoming more of a liability than anything.

If she truly was Anastasia, Anya wondered if Maria would also see her as a liability. The old leader of the Romanian coven was probably looking for a warrior, not a vampire who complained of human ailments like headaches. It was yet another disadvantage to add to Anya’s disappointing lack of recall.

Dmitry had begun pacing, which was worsening Anya’s mood. She was about to snap at him when he stiffened, nostrils flaring.

“Time to go,” he said in a clipped voice.

“What?”

He yanked her to her feet roughly. “Someone’s coming! We have to run!” He threw open the car door so forcefully, he nearly ripped it off. “Vlad! Come on!”

They were all lined up to leap into the snow when she saw who was coming. He was wearing a gray cloak, the hood of which hid most of his features. The exception was a pair of blood-red eyes that had fixed themselves on the three of them.

“The Volturi,” Vlad croaked out. “They’re coming for us – I knew it!”

The Romanians’ age-old enemies. They were coming for her. For Anastasia. Anya’s head swam, and through the pain assaulting her cranium, she could see burning castles. The air was thick with purple smoke and the smell of incense…

“Jump! Now!” Dmitry was shouting.

Anya didn’t think she had exerted more effort in jumping now than she had in the last how many years she’d been a vampire. When she landed, she was in the thick of a copse of trees.

And she was alone.

She started running through the trees, pushing all her senses to awaken. She needed to find Dmitry and Vlad, to detect the familiar notes of citrus and sandalwood.

She smelled the sage before she was caught, very nearly crashing headlong into the body that had materialized from seemingly out of nowhere. Suddenly, her arms were locked behind her, and there was a cold arm across her throat. She snarled and thrashed, but her captor barely seemed to notice as he began to drag her across the forest floor.

Anya had not survived this long without knowing how to fight, however. Perhaps underestimating her, he had left just a little bit of slack in his grip across her collarbone. Just enough slack. With as much strength as she could muster, she slammed her head into his chin.

He staggered, and she was able to yank her arms free. She shot for the trees, finally tasting the faint scent of grapefruit in the air.

Her captor flung himself at her, and a tree groaned and collapsed. Anya’s limbs were caught in a tangle of branches – she tore through them easily enough, but by then, he had lifted her by the neck. His hood had fallen back in the struggle, revealing his face.

If she was not fearing for her life, she might have thought it beautiful.

His ruby eyes widened as he looked up at her. He seemed struck dumb, and he released her. As she dropped onto the snow-covered ground, hands rubbing her throat, he backed up.

“I can’t,” he whispered, so softly that she barely caught it.

The snow and wind whirled around them, but neither of them moved. When the Volturi soldier reached out again, it was hesitant, and his eyes were softer. Without fully understanding why, she slowly extended her hand. Their fingertips touched.

The warmth of his fingers was stolen away in the next second as he went flying into another tree. Dmitry was now crouched in front of her, growling. The rustling of leaves, followed by the smell of sandalwood, told her that Vlad was at her back.

The Volturi soldier had assumed an attack stance. His teeth snapped, and Vlad swore. Dmitry automatically edged backwards, the tension in his muscles suggesting that he was battling his base instinct to bolt for safety. The soldier noticed Dmitry’s distraction, and he charged.

Anya stepped directly into his path. “Don’t!” She didn’t even know if she could be heard above the wind.

There was a loud crunching sound – the forest floor protesting. Her nostrils filled with the smell of sage.

The Volturi soldier had stopped, just barely an inch from her. He looked anguished. Behind her, Dmitry drew in a sharp breath.

The soldier reached up to touch her cheek – feather-light against the snow on her skin. Then he turned away.

“Go,” he ordered quietly.

Dmitry didn’t need to be told twice, tugging on Anya’s wrist and pulling her to his side as he backed into the trees. Anya’s eyes sought the soldier’s face, her legs suddenly unwilling to move.

“Hurry!” Dmitry hissed.

As she turned her back on the copse of trees, she detected the fading scent of sage.

“Find me,” she whispered to the air, hoping it would carry her wishes.

#pure anon #prompts #twilight au #glenya

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lilacmoon83 · 6 years

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Dreaming Out Loud

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Chapter 53: Roots

David's legs burned in protest, but he ignored it, as he chased George. Fortunately, he was much younger and faster, so it didn't take him long to catch up to the disgraced King. He pulled his gun and cocked it, making the King stop, as they reached the beach.

"Put your hands where I can see them. You're under arrest for murder," David stated, as the King did so and slowly turned to face him.

"You think you've really won, shepherd?" George goaded.

"Good always wins...even if our victories are harder to achieve," David retorted.

"So sure of yourself...so sure that you're good," the former King spat.

"As opposed to you...yes. The people have never come first to you. Power is all you care about," David countered.

"You are such a fool...power is how you get everything in this world...in any world, boy," George spat.

"I tried to barter a deal that would have made my Kingdom prosperous for centuries to come. But you ruined it all and just so you could be with your precious Snow White. Who is really the selfish one here?" George challenged.

"Some saw what I did as selfish, you're right...but I never stopped fighting for the people. And don't act so noble...you wouldn't have lent any of the riches you acquired from Midas to the people. Only the nobles and elite would have benefited from that deal," David argued.

"If that's what you need to tell yourself every night when you lay next to your precious Snow White, then so be it. That doesn't change the fact that you will never be fit to lead anything, let alone this town," the disgraced King spat.

"You're wrong," Snow interjected breathlessly, as she and Red arrived behind him.

"Am I, Princess? Just because you say so?" George goaded.

"No...because of the kind of man my husband is. The opposite of you. You have to use fear and lies to get people to follow you. Such leadership would only lead this town to war and ruin. David leads by example, as a man that gives his all to protect his family and the people of this town. He doesn't need to rally them into a frenzy to get them to follow him," Snow countered, as she looked up at him.

"They follow him, because they see themselves in him. He's a person that cares about others and loves his family. You could have had that. But you chose hate over love and family," Snow implored.

"Love is for children, you foolish little girl. Even your father knew that. He was well known for saying that love makes people do very foolish things. Too bad he did not manage to impart his wisdom to his naive daughter," George hissed.

"As much as it hurts...my father, the man that raised me is no role model. He is not a man I look up to now that I know the truths about the things he did in his past," she admitted, but then smiled.

"Fortunately, my husband is the kind of father that my daughter can and does look up to. This town's protection is in good hands with both of them," she said.

"At the end of the day, despite anything else, you're just a cold blooded murderer that deserves nothing less than to be locked up for the rest of his life," she added. David smirked.

"Couldn't have said it better myself," he agreed, as he holstered his gun and cuffed the old man.

"You think you have won? With Cora and the Queen on the loose?" George challenged.

"Or what about your mother's husband? Do you really think Hades will not come to finish what he tried to do upon the day of your birth, Snow White?" he ranted.

"Shut up," David snapped.

"Yes...your precious wife won't be ruling this town long if he has his way. With the Queen gone, I'm sure the Underworld could use a Princess to lord over them," George growled.

"If you don't shut up...you'll be the one going to the Underworld," David growled back, as they marched him back to town.

"I need to get back to the library. I kind of chained your mother up with magic proof chains. She is probably not happy with me at all," Red stated. Snow winced.

"Probably not...I'll go with you," Snow agreed, as she kissed David tenderly.

"I'm going to lock him up and then I'll meet you at home," he said, as he put George in the patrol car, while Red and Snow set off for the library.

~*~

Emma tried to calm her heart, which was pounding, as they walked back to his apartment building in silence.

"So you're not going to tell me what exactly I need to see? Surprises aren't my favorite thing, you know," Neal mentioned.

"Oh, I'm sorry...did I forget to tell you that I give a damn about your sensitivities?" Emma snapped coldly.

"Damn...okay, maybe I deserve that," he said and then winced, as she looked at him sharply.

"You think?" she growled. He sighed.

"Emma...I told you that I'm sorry. But you know as well as I do that I could have never known that you knew your parents or that you were from there," he replied.

"But you did know after August told you. So what that you hated your Dad. I hated my parents at the time. We still could have found them together," she said.

"It's not the same!" he snapped, as they stopped walking and faced each other.

"The difference is that you really didn't hate your parents. I really do hate my father! Do you have any idea what I went through?" he questioned. She crossed her arms over her chest and cast her gaze downward for a moment.

"There is a book...it has all the stories in it. From everyone in town, so yeah, I read it the first chance I got, cover to cover. So yeah...I'm familiar with the story of Baelfire," she admitted.

"Then you know what happened. He chose all that crap over me! And before I got to this world, I had some pretty unpleasant experiences in others," Neal explained.

"He screwed up! Don't you think he at least deserves a second chance?" she asked and he looked at her in disbelief.

"Are you defending him?" he accused. She sighed.

"No...what he did was messed up! It destroyed my family!" she assured.

"Then why the hell does it sound like you're defending him?" he shouted.

"Because...he helped my Dad," she confessed. Neal rolled his eyes.

"He doesn't help anyone unless there was something in it for him," he stated. Emma sighed.

"You're right, but it went down in a way that I think helped your Dad realize that friends and family might actually do things for you without expecting something in return. That's who my parents are...they help people without expecting to be rewarded for it," Emma explained.

"That's nice for you, Emma, but my Dad isn't like that. If you need his help, then you better expect to pay the price," Neal argued.

"But my father didn't pay a price...that's what I'm trying to tell you," she argued back. He seemed intrigued and nodded his head for her to continue.

"A man named Jefferson, who worked for your father back there was cursed to be awake during the curse. It was his punishment to remember everything and have to watch another family raise his daughter. But that also meant he had time to discover things that Regina was hiding," Emma began.

"Like what?" Neal asked curiously.

"Like the fact she told your father that a woman he fell in love with died, but really she just locked her up in the psych ward," Emma replied. He chuckled and Emma looked at him incredulously.

"Are you laughing at me?" she demanded to know.

"Yeah...because you're crazy if you expect me to believe that my father, Dark One extraordinaire, fell in love," he drawled.

"No...no...I amend that. You've cracked if you expect me to believe someone actually fell in love with him!" Neal added.

"The only thing that's going to be cracked is your teeth if you call me crazy again," she growled, as she started to walk away.

"Okay...I'm sorry, but come on! My father loves power and power only," Neal told her.

"Yeah, I know he loves power, but it's not the only thing he loves. Trust me, based on everything I knew about him before I got to Storybrooke, I would have agreed with you," she said. He shrugged.

"Then what changed that?" Neal asked.

"My father...he gave my father back his real memories when he woke up from the coma and gave him a potion to keep him immune to any false memories Regina would have tried to plant. She planned to give him false memories of being married to someone else to keep my parents apart," she explained, as tears gathered in her eyes.

"He gave me my Dad back...and not just in my dreams. For the first time since you...I wasn't alone," she choked, as a few tears slipped down her cheeks.

"My Mom didn't remember yet, but it didn't matter. She was so lonely and thought she was nothing...a feeling I know all too well. But Dad swept in and became her Prince Charming again," she added. Neal let out a breath.

"And that's great, Emma, but I know him. He got something out of it," he replied.

"He did...he got Belle back. My father helped him get back to the woman he loved, because your father helped him. But it went further than that...they actually became friends," she pleaded. He chuckled.

"My father doesn't have friends and if your Dad actually thinks my father is his friend, then he's an idiot," Neal said.

"Don't call my Dad stupid!" she snapped, taking him aback a bit and he held up his hands in surrender.

"Okay...I'm sorry," he apologized again. But she scoffed.

"You know what...I'm starting to think that you don't deserve to know the other thing I have to tell you," she said, as she turned away.

"It will be hard to here, but I'll tell him the truth about what you really are," Emma replied.

"Who are you talking about?" Neal asked in confusion.

"I already told him the truth...thanks to my Mom. I wanted to lie...I wanted to tell him you were some firefighter that died a hero. But nope...I told him the truth and he took it pretty well. Better than me," Emma replied.

"Emma...what the hell are you talking about?" he asked.

"I told him that you sent me to jail. I was honest and said I wasn't completely innocent in the whole thing, but I'm pretty sure all he heard was you sold me out and he was born in prison," she answered. His eyes widened.

"B...born?" he questioned.

"And now...I get to tell him that Baelfire is actually Neal Cassidy and he decided to abandon us again, because he can't get over his daddy issues," Emma spat.

"Emma!" he shouted and she turned back to him.

"What do you mean...by born?" he asked, with bated breath.

"I mean my son...our son," she replied. He was stunned to speechlessness.

"We...we have a son?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yep...but I didn't get to raise him. I was in prison, remember? And I knew that I couldn't give him what he needed when I got out. So I gave him up...and guess who adopted him? None other than Regina Mills," Emma replied.

"The Queen adopted our son?" he asked. She nodded.

"Yep, we share a son with the Evil Queen...so thanks for that," she retorted.

"Emma…" he started to say.

"You know what? I'm done...I don't care anymore. Come, don't come...I'm over it. I'm going back to get my son and we're going home to my parents, because we're a family and it's pretty great," she admitted.

"Once I worked through my anger and hurt with them...things were wonderful, even when we were only together in our dreams. Too bad you're too good to give your Dad the same chance," she said.

"It's not the same!" he insisted again.

"Dammit...your parents are good! They didn't want to give you up, did they?" he asked. She shook her head.

"No...they only did, because of him! Because he wanted to get me back! Never mind that he destroyed countless other lives to do it!" he cried.

"Fine...so what do I tell him?" she asked.

"Oh, I'll tell him to piss off myself...I'm still going with you," he replied. She looked at him in surprise.

"You are?" she asked.

"Emma...I just found out that I have a son. Do you really think I'd do the same thing to him as mine did to me?" he questioned. Her face was a mask of indifference.

"You want me to really believe that it would have changed things if you knew that I was pregnant?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No...I don't. I don't deserve that belief from you right now, but I'm going to earn it," he replied. She actually looked impressed by that, as they started walking again.

~*~

After locking George up in a cell in the basement of the hospital, David headed home and found a quiet loft when he got there with takeout ready. After the three of them enjoyed dinner together, Persephone retired for the evening, leaving Snow and Charming to their own devices. Snow kissed him deeply, moving her lips over his in a passionate rhythm, as her hands busied themselves on the buttons of his shirt.

"Not that I'm complaining...but you're especially feisty tonight," he purred, as her lips were busy on his neck. She smirked at him and pushed a hand to his chest, as he lay back. She straddled him and then leaned over him again.

"What can I say...I can't seem to keep my hands off you, handsome," she purred. He sought her lips at that and kissed her passionately.

"Like I said...no complaints here, my darling," he said in a husky tone. She bit her bottom lip, as she got his shirt off and let her hands roam his bare torso.

"Mmm...then you won't mind if I have my way with you, Prince Charming," she purred, as they melted into each other...

~*~

When Emma and Neal got back to the apartment building, they walked into the lobby.

"You're back!" Henry called, as he ran up and hugged Emma. She smiled and hugged him back, dropping a kiss on top of his head. The boy poked his head out to look at the person that was with her and his expression was brimming with curiosity.

"Are you Baelfire?" he asked. Neal could only stare at him for several beats.

"Uh...yeah, I suppose I am. I don't really go by that name anymore though," he answered when he found his voice.

"What do I call you then?" Henry asked. His eyes darted to Emma, who gave him a curt nod, while not looking very happy at all.

"Well, in this world, I've been going by Neal Cassidy," he replied. Henry looked at him in disbelief and then up at his mother.

"Isn't that the name of…" he started to say, as he trailed off. She nodded.

"Yeah kid...I'm as surprised as you, believe me," she replied.

"So...you're my Dad?" Henry asked, as Rumple took a sharp intake of breath. Neal glanced at him, only to see pure shock on his face. There was some small satisfaction at that. For once, his father had failed miserably to predict the future and thus control it.

"Yeah, it would appear so, kid," he replied.

"Bae…" Rumple interjected, but Neal put his hand up to silence him.

"Firstly, it's Neal...and don't even for a second get the idea that I came back here for you," he said harshly.

"I'm here for him, because now that I know about him, I won't abandon my son like you did yours," Neal hissed, as he turned to Emma.

"It's getting late...I have a guest room for you and the sofa folds out into a bed for him if you want," he told her. Emma sighed and looked at her son, who clearly wanted to know the man before him. So she nodded in acquiescence.

"Henry, go on up to the apartment with Neal. I'll be there in a minute," she assured. He nodded, as he got on the elevator with Neal.

"Emma...you have to talk to him for me," Rumple leaded.

"I have...why do you think I was gone so long?" she countered.

"The only reason I got him here at all was when I told him about Henry. Otherwise, he'd be in the wind again. I tried to get him to give you a second chance. I even told him how you've made friends with my father and found love...but he's not budging," she lamented.

"Rumple...let him cool off a bit and spend some time with Henry. Maybe he'll start to see things differently," Belle suggested.

"And if he doesn't?" Rumple asked brokenly.

"Then you back off...at least he'll be close. He'll be coming home with us now that he knows about Henry," Emma replied and then sighed.

"Look...go back to the hotel and I'll see if I can get him to agree to meet you for breakfast in the morning," she offered. He nodded.

"Thank you," he offered back, as he started to hobble toward the exit.

"Emma...are you okay?" Belle asked. The blonde smiled thinly and blew out a breath.

"Yeah, I guess...it's a lot to take in," she replied. Belle nodded.

"I can't imagine...and I'm here if you want to talk, but I think you might benefit more if you call Snow," she suggested.

"Yeah...it's late," Emma said. Belle squeezed her hand.

"Emma...call your Mother. She won't care what time it is," the brunette replied, as she left. Emma sighed and pulled out her phone. She pressed a button and Mom appeared on the screen, as her phone dialed.

~*~

Regina sighed, as they rummaged through Gold's shop, but turned up empty again.

"We've searched everywhere...the woods, the clock tower, this entire damn town and it's not here!" she complained.

"No...I'm beginning to think it's not anywhere at all," Cora responded.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Are you sure he wouldn't have taken it with him?" Cora asked.

"Sidney said that his phone records show a call to the airlines. He would have never gotten something like that through security and onto an airplane," Regina replied.

"Unless that was a ruse or there was a change of plans," Cora surmised. Regina looked up at her.

"And they decided to drive...he took it with him," she realized. Cora pursed her lips.

"What are we supposed to do now? If he has it with him, we'll never get it away from him now," the former Queen said.

"Patience darling, this is just a minor setback. There are still ways to get what we need," Cora replied.

"We can't kill the Charmings...no matter how much I wish we could. Even if Persephone wasn't standing in the way...Henry would never forgive me," Regina said.

"And we will get the dagger and do away with all of them. Then Henry won't blame you," she assured.

"Then we need to be ready for them before they cross the town line and somehow get the dagger away from Gold. Cora smirked.

"Which shouldn't be too difficult," she responded.

"How do you figure? Even outside Storybrooke, Emma is armed with a gun," Regina warned.

"Because love is weakness, dear. We threaten Rumple's little bookworm and he'll do whatever he must to save her," Cora responded.

"And Emma...she'd do anything to save her parents," Regina realized.

"Yes and fortunately, we have Hook at our disposal as well. If he were to take Henry's grandparents hostage, the boy would still see you as blameless," Cora added. Regina smirked.

"The Captain should be with his ship...but we'll need a diversion for Persephone," she said.

"And I have just the one," Cora replied," as she poofed them to the harbor. But they frowned when they arrived, finding the Jolly Roger to be missing.

"He's gone…" Regina uttered. Cora's face was marred by a deep frown and she clenched her fists. She regretted now not keeping Hook on a tighter leash.

"He's gone to New York...he's gone to skin his Crocodile. He could ruin everything…" she hissed. Regina sighed.

"What now?" her daughter asked.

"The giant I brought along would have been a nice distraction. Fortunately, I have another one that might just drive a wedge between Snow and her mother. It's a start anyway until we figure out what do and what damage Hook might do to our plans," Cora replied. It was a setback for sure, but it only delayed the inevitable as far as she was concerned. And that was her possession of the dagger and the complete destruction of Persephone's entire legacy…

~*~

Snow giggled, as she lay entangled beneath the bedclothes with her husband and he kissed her neck.

"You do know I'm not food, right?" she teased, as her husband seemed intent on nibbling on her all over.

"Yep...you're better. You taste like cinnamon...and vanilla...and Snow…" he purred. She giggled.

"I taste like Snow? What does that even mean?" she asked playfully.

"Mmm...I don't know. You taste like you...and it's heaven," he replied, as his head disappeared beneath the blankets and she gasped, as he made his way down the valley between her breasts.

"David…" she whimpered, as she raked her fingers through his hair, while he busied his skillful mouth on her chest. Snow lost herself in the sensations and writhed beneath her husband's hard body. Gods...this man knew exactly how to bring her unspeakable pleasure. Unfortunately, her phone chose to ring at that moment and she grappled with it on the nightstand.

"Charming...it's Emma…" she warned, as he emerged and spooned her against him, as she answered the phone.

"Hi honey…" she said, as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"Hi Mom...sorry, I know it's late," Emma replied.

"It's never too late for you to call me, sweetheart, ever," Snow assured.

"I found Baelfire," she revealed.

"That's wonderful…" Snow replied, but heard silence on the other end.

"Isn't it?" she asked.

"Uh...yeah, there's just way more to it and I'm kind of freaking out right now," Emma fretted.

"Honey, say the word and your Dad and I will leave for New York right now if you need us to," Snow assured.

"It's tempting, but I don't think there will be much reason to stick around New York much longer. We should be heading home tomorrow," Emma said.

"That's good...does that mean Gold worked things out with his son?" Snow asked, as Charming listened with her.

"No...he wants nothing to do with his father. But that's only half of it. Baelfire...Mom…" Emma started to say.

"It's okay Emma...whatever it is, your Dad and I will be here for you," Snow assured.

"Baelfire is Neal Cassidy…" she blurted out and Snow was silent for a moment, trying to process that statement.

"Neal Cassidy…" she uttered and she saw her husband's face darken at that name.

"Baelfire is Neal Cassidy?" she continued, as her eyes met Charming's and she watched his blue eyes widen.

"Yeah...insane, right?" she fretted.

"A little bit...how did Gold take it?" she asked curiously.

"He was as shocked as me. He and Belle went back to the hotel. We're at Neal's apartment and Henry's getting to know him. He wants nothing to do with Gold, but Neal said he won't abandon Henry now that he knows about him," Emma explained.

"Well, that's noble...so he'll be coming home with you?" Snow asked.

"Yeah I guess...I have no idea what any of this means. I never expected to see him again," Emma replied.

"I know sweetheart, but your Dad and I are going to be here for you, no matter what. And we'll figure all of this out together," Snow promised.

"Thanks Mom...I love. Tell Dad I love him too," Emma said. Snow smiled.

"I will...we love you too, sweetheart. Be safe and call us when you're on your way home," Snow requested, as she hung up the phone and blew out an unsteady breath.

"You realize what this means, right?" she asked him and he gave her a questioning look.

"We share a grandson with Rumpelstiltskin," she said. He blew out a breath too.

"Good thing we're friends now or that might suck," he quipped. She hummed in agreement and chuckled, as he kissed her cheek.

"I will feel so much better when our baby and our grand baby are home," she confessed.

"Me too, my love," he agreed, as they settled down in each other's arms and finally let sleep take them. At least in their dreams, they would see Emma and Henry.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Swan Believer #Neal Cassidy #Baelfire #Rumpelstiltskin #Belle #Rumbelle #Persephone #greek mythology meets farytales #season 1 retelling #now season 2 retelling #romance #adventure #Swanfire

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