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onlyonetifosi · 10 months

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Hii babes could you do Logan x reader and it’s his first Father’s Day or Oscar if your comfortable with it thanksss

The sound of engines roared in the distance, blending with the cheers of the crowd that filled the Formula 1 paddock. It was a scorching day in July, and the world's fastest drivers were preparing for another thrilling race weekend. Amongst the bustling chaos, Y/N Sargeant, wife of renowned F1 driver Logan Sargeant, navigated through the lively atmosphere with their adorable son, Parker, cradled in her arms.

As they walked toward Logan's team garage, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It was Parker's first time attending a Grand Prix, and it happened to coincide with Logan's first Father's Day. The couple had been looking forward to this day for months, eager to share their passion for racing with their son.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the grid, Y/N held Parker in her arms, gently rocking him back and forth. "Are you ready for your first race, Parker? Daddy's going to be amazing out there," she cooed in German, her voice filled with love.

Logan approached them, his race suit zipped up, and a proud smile on his face. He wrapped his arms around Y/N and Parker, kissing their foreheads. "Guten Morgen, meine Lieben," he greeted them, his voice filled with warmth. "Are you excited, Parker? We're going to have so much fun today."

Parker, with his chubby cheeks and bright blue eyes, gurgled in response, his tiny fingers reaching out to grab at the colorful lanyard around Y/N's neck, which held their paddock passes.

Logan, clad in his racing suit, approached them with a beaming smile. His eyes lit up when he saw his wife and son, and he eagerly scooped Parker into his arms.

"Hey there my champion" Logan greeted his son "Ready to cheer Daddy on today?"

Parker responded with a toothless grin, seemingly sensing the excitement that surrounded him.

Y/N leaned in and pressed a kiss to Logan's cheek. "Happy Father's Day, Liebster. You're an incredible dad, and I'm so proud of you."

Logan's face softened as he held his family close. "Thank you, princess. I couldn't ask for a better gift than you and Parker"

Their tender moment was interrupted by the arrival of other F1 drivers and their families. Charles Leclerc approached with his girlfriend Emma and his son Marco, in his arms. He grinned at Logan and Y/N.

"Happy Father's Day, Logan!" Charles exclaimed, extending a hand to Logan while Marco curiously observed Parker. “It's a special feeling, isn't it? Seeing your little one grow up in this world of racing"

Logan nodded, his eyes shining with pride, Logan shook Charles' hand warmly. “Happy Father's Day to you too. How's Marco doing? And absolutely, it's a whole new level of joy and responsibility. But I wouldn't trade it for anything."

"Parker is excited to be here today," she said, glancing over at their son who was squirming in her arms. "It's his first time attending a Grand Prix"

As if on cue, Parker giggled, his tiny hands reaching out towards the colorful F1 cars lining the grid

"Look, Marco, this is your new friend Parker!" Emma exclaimed, smiling warmly.

"He's growing up so fast," Charles replied, his voice tinged with awe. "But I suppose that's what happens when you're born into this racing world"

Y/N nodded, understanding the sentiment. "I can't believe how quickly Parker is growing too. It feels like just yesterday we brought him home"

Daniel Ricciardo joined the conversation, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "So, mate, how does it feel to have a mini-you cheering you on from the grandstands?"

Logan's gaze softened as he looked at his son. "It's indescribable, Dan. Seeing him here, witnessing his first Grand Prix, it means the world to me. I can't wait for him to grow up surrounded by this incredible sport"

Parker wriggled in Logan's arms, reaching out to touch Marco's face. The two babies giggled, their laughter filling the air as their fathers exchanged stories and advice.

Y/N gently placed him on the ground, and he wobbled his way towards the other drivers' children who were playing nearby.

Max Verstappen's son Noah, Marco and Parker were already engrossed in painting the paddock with colored chalks. Parker’s laughter blending with the cheerful voices of the little ones. Meanwhile, Y/N and Logan watched, beaming with pride.

Max Verstappen's daughter, Sofia, giggled as Parker tried to catch up to her. The two children toddled hand in hand, their laughter contagious.

"Looks like we have future racers on our hands," Max said with a grin, watching the two children.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Y/N replied

"I think our little racer is making friends," Y/N said, her eyes never leaving Parker

"Logan, do you remember when Parker tried to imitate your victory celebration?" Max Verstappen chuckled, recalling a recent race weekend. "He's already a natural-born racer"

YN grinned, watching as Parker clumsily attempted to mimic his father's podium jump. "He definitely takes after his father. I have a feeling we'll be seeing him on the track in the future"

Logan's heart swelled with pride, his gaze alternating between YN and their son. "Maybe one day, he'll even surpass me"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice. "Logan! Y/N!" It was Lando Norris, his own son, Oliver, perched on his shoulders.

"Hey, Lando!" Logan greeted with a grin. "Happy Father's Day, mate"

Lando grinned back. "Thanks, mate. Looks like our kids are having a blast together" Lando was accompanied by his girlfriend, and together they admired Parker with adoration.

"Thanks, Lando!" Logan grinned. "By the way, congratulations for the last race. You're on fire this season!"

Lando shrugged modestly. "Just doing my best” he was saying before being interrupted by Oliver as he was chasing after Parker, their laughter echoing through the paddock, and he and his girlfriend, Lauren, laughed at their son's antics.

"Y/N, how are you finding motherhood?" Kika, Pierre Gasly's partner, asked with a smile

"It's an incredible journey," Y/N replied, her voice filled with warmth. "Watching Parker grow and discover new things every day is a blessing"

As Y/N they exchanged pleasantries, the other drivers and their families joined the growing circle of camaraderie. Sergio Perez's sons Carlota, Sergio and Emilio, toddled around with a mischievous glint in his eyes, followed closely by Daniel Ricciardo's son, Leo.

She noticed Lewis Hamilton with his own bundle of joy, Amelia, and approached him.

"Good afternoon, Lewis. How is Amelia doing?" YN inquired, her voice filled with warmth.

Lewis grinned, holding his daughter close. "She's doing great, thanks. Can't believe how quickly time flies. Before I know it, she'll be asking for her own racing car!"

"Happy Father's Day, Logan! And Y/N, little Parker is growing so quickly. He's going to be a force to be reckoned with, just like his dad."

Y/N chuckled, gently bouncing Parker. "Thank you, Lewis. We're excited to see what the future holds for our little racer."

It was a scene filled with laughter and joy—a glimpse into the future of the F1 paddock.

The warm camaraderie continued as more drivers stopped by to offer their well wishes. Yuki Tsunoda playfully ruffled Parker's hair, while Daniel Ricciardo shared a humorous anecdote about his first Father's Day.

As the time for the race drew near, Y/N and Logan exchanged a meaningful look. They both knew how much this day meant to them—a celebration of their love, family, and the shared passion that brought them together.

"Let's make this a day to remember, Liebster," Y/N whispered, her eyes shining with anticipation.

Logan tightened his grip on Parker, his heart full of love and determination. "Absolutely, sweetheart. Today, we race for more than just victory."

With their spirits lifted by the support of their F1 family, Logan and Y/N walked hand in hand toward the pit lane. As the cars thundered past, leaving behind a symphony of speed and power, Logan revved his engine, ready to give it his all on the track.

For Logan, Y/N, and little Parker, this would forever be remembered as the day their racing hearts beat as one—a testament to the strength of their love, their devotion as parents, and the unbreakable bond that tied them together.

With renewed determination, Logan kissed Y/N's forehead before heading towards the briefing room. The race weekend had become an extraordinary blend of joy, love, and the thrill of competition

Later, as the engines roared on the grid, Y/N, holding Parker in her arms, joined the other F1 families in the spectator area. Logan's car lined up on the grid, the anticipation palpable. Y/N whispered to Parker, who stared wide-eyed at the colorful spectacle before him.

"Parker, mein kleiner Champion, look at Daddy go. He's going to show everyone what he's made of."

As the lights went out and the race began, Y/N's heart swelled with pride for her husband and the father of her child. The adrenaline rushed through her veins, mirroring the intense energy on the track.

Parker, sensing his mother's excitement, clapped his hands and babbled happily, the echoes of his laughter blending with the roar of the engines.

Hours flew by, and as Logan crossed the finish line in a respectable position, the crowd erupted with applause. Y/N, carrying Parker on her hip, joined the cheering, her voice ringing with pride.

"You did it, Logan! Happy Father's Day!" she exclaimed, her words mingling with the cheers of the crowd.

The F1 families gathered once again, celebrating the successful race and Father's Day. As they shared stories and laughter, the children played together, their young spirits echoing the joy and unity of their parents.

"I couldn't have asked for a more perfect day," Y/N whispered, leaning into Logan's embrace.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. "Neither could I, love, this is what racing is all about. Family, friendship, and the love that keeps us going."

When the paddock quieted down, the Sargeant family made their way back to their motorhome. Logan cradled Parker in his arms, gazing down at his son's peaceful face.

“My little man," Logan whispered, his voice full of tenderness. "One day, you'll know how much joy and purpose you bring to my life. I'll always be there for you"

"Parker is lucky to have you as his mom," Logan whispered, his voice full of adoration.

Y/N smiled, feeling a surge of love for her husband. "And he's lucky to have you as his dad, Logan. Happy Father's Day."

Logan's eyes shimmered with emotion as he held Y/N's gaze. "Happy Father's Day, Y/N. I couldn't imagine a better partner and mother for our son."

In that moment, as Logan sped away, adrenaline surging through his veins, he couldn't help but feel grateful—for the privilege of being a father, for the support of his teammates and fellow drivers, and for the incredible woman and son waiting for him in the pits.

Together, they embarked on a race not just to the checkered flag but to a future filled with love, happiness, and the indomitable spirit of the racing world.

#logan sargeant imagine #f1 imagine #f1 drivers x reader #logan sargeant x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #logan sargeant fic #logan sargeant

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mrsbarnesxxx · 2 months

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Bill Weasley x Malfoy!reader. Met at Hogwarts, dating since graduation. Bill brings reader home and Weasleys hate her/treat her like flour until bill snaps them they get to know her. End with fluff

Warnings: slurs/general unkind words (nothing too serious), fighting, angst, Bill being an absolute sweetheart

It wasn't easy growing up a Malfoy. Everything you did was under scrutiny. Everything was about blood status. Your parents barely spoke to you anymore now that you had "betrayed" them by dating Bill Weasley. You two had met at Hogwarts, you'd had classes together every year, and eventually, the two of you bonded about being the eldest in your family. Eventually, one summer day, Bill had asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes, however, you were regretting saying yes to spending time with his family. You had gotten to the burrow yesterday afternoon and no one had said a word to you. Maybe they thought you'd be like your family, but they clearly weren't interested in getting to know you. They would look at you and scoff before turning away. You expected a bit of apprehension from them. Bill had told you this was the first time he had brought a girl home and your family didn't exactly help, but you hadn't expected them to be this bad. Over the last day, they had escalated from ignoring you to saying blatantly rude things. They would call you a blood supremacist, a snake, and all sorts of other things.

The second night you were there you had enough at dinner.

All of his brothers had been making subtle comments since dinner started, you'd expected one of his parents to say something, but it seemed they agreed with them.

"J'aimerais y aller, s'il te plaît." I whisper leaning over to Bill after his mother's latest jab.

"What? English is beneath you, princess?" Bill's brother Ron jeers.

"Alright, that's enough," Bill says standing up from the table. "All of you have been nothing but rude to my fiancee since we got here. None of you have bothered to get to know her or even ask her anything about her. You haven't even bothered to make polite conversation that anyone could tell was fake. What is wrong with you? You used to be the most loving people. I get the world is messed up, but that's no excuse for your behavior. Come on, let's go." He says, finally turning to me and extending a hand. I take it, offering a polite smile at his family before we leave the room.

"You have to understand that we never expected you to bring someone like her home." His mother exclaims. That seems to stop Bill in his tracks. He turns around to face his family.

"Someone like what? You don't even know her. You always said that you never cared about blood, but it seems you care about her's." He says. "Let's go."

He turns back to me, taking my hand and leading me upstairs.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I can't believe they acted like that tonight." He says pulling me into a hug.

"Bill, you can't be serious?" I ask pulling away from him. "They've been acting like that since I got here. You haven't heard your brothers' comments about my 'murderous heritage'? Or your sister asking me to pull up my sleeves to check for a snake on my left arm? Or your mother calling me 'one of those people'? The only person who has been remotely kind to me is your father and he just hasn't said anything to me."

"I'm so sorry. I should have paid better attention. I have no idea why they're acting like this." He says softly, caressing my cheek. "We'll go first thing in the morning, okay?"

"We can't go, Bill. We're supposed to be having the wedding here. In the backyard with your parents and the rest of your family." I explain.

"I don't care. If they're treating you this way, then they don't get to come to our wedding."

"Bill, they're your family!"

"And you are too." he says caressing my cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want you to be the mother of my children, and in 16 days, you're going to be my wife, so that makes you the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

"Okay." I smile leaning up to kiss him.

As soon as our lips meet there's a knock on the door. We pull away from each other, Bill running a hand over his face before turning to his mother in the doorway. He doesn't say anything, simply looks at her waiting to see what she has to say.

"We're so sorry, Bill. We never meant to treat her like that...we're just...we're sorry. Please come back downstairs. We can start over." His mum offers.

I smile and take Bill's hand, "Please." I whisper trying to relax him.

"Okay." He nods looking at me.

I smile, interlocking our fingers before we head downstairs.

As we reach the table, anxiety fills my chest at what his family might say or if they never like me, but I know that none of that matters because I have Bill.

#mrsbarnesxx #mbxxrequests #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x malfoy!reader #bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley angst #bill weasley fluff

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my-heart-beat-for-anime · 5 months

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HIS BELLADONA treech x mentor reader

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

The coolness on my skin was what woke me from a pleasant sleep. I roughly rubbed my eyes and sat up on the bed. With a yawn, I decided to quickly cross the small apartment to the bathroom. I tried to go as quietly as possible so as not to wake my father. Father, I still didn't know if the man sprawled across the old couch was still the same a smiling man who raised me with love. The war destroyed everything, the war took my mother, the war took my father. I slowly wash my face with cold water and stare at myself in the cracked mirror and all I see is the same face as the woman who gave birth to me and loved me, the face of the woman I watched as she slowly died next to me due to lack of food and illness. I remember the helplessness that her death brought because not only did I lose my mother, but her death destroyed the man who had once been her father. After the death of his wife, he began to seek refuge in morphine and alcohol, leaving the weight of the world on the shoulders of his eight-year-old daughter. The only thing that kept her and her father alive was her father's meager salary, the salary was high but father would rather buy morphine than make sure I had dinner and gifts from my father's friend Casca Highbottom. I tried to buy on the black market, I bartered what I could and thanks to that we survived. I was now in my final year at the academy and planned to study at university.I noticed a bruise on my hand in the mirror, my father had another rough night yesterday. Today was one of those days when it didn't fit today was a big day today was harvest for the 10th hunger games. I quickly got ready, chose my mother's favorite dark blue skirt, on which stars were embroidered with yellow thread, on top I took a black turtleneck, which very well covered my bruised arms and neck. I let my hair flow freely on my shoulders and assessed whether it was enough. Unfortunately, there was no time for any shortcomings, so I just grabbed my school bag and headed for the exit from the apartment. Just as I was closing the door to the apartment, I heard the door of the apartment above us close, it meant that Coryo was leaving, so I waited for him to run downstairs, where I joined him on the way to the academy.,,It's a miracle what Tigris did with that old shirt, you look very elegant." I complimented his appearance. Coryo just laughed, "You know snow closets are bottomless." I was the only one who knew about his situation and he knew about mine. I have known Coriolanus since I was a child, our mothers were friends with each other in the days after your mother's death, I lived with the Snows for a while, who helped me a lot at that time. On the way to the academy, we had a pleasant conversation, but when you walked in, Coryo took Clemensia away and I was left alone, but not for long because Lysistrata spotted me. "Hey (Y/N) you look beautiful." Lysistrata was the only one of my classmates that I would believe this compliment.She was very quiet but she was one of the nicest and fairest people I've ever met.,, Well miss Lysistrata it's harvest day of course I have to represent the Capitol." I said with a sneer in my voice. She rewarded me with her smile in return and we left to the hall where the harvest transmission started in no time. I sat in the back row together next to my friend and we waited patiently. But what I didn't expect was the news that each of the top 24 students will be assigned a mentoring tribute. We are going to turn them into a show for entertainment , that made me sick to my stomach. I exchanged a disgusted look with Lys next to me.,, As if it wasn't enough that they are going to die, we're going to force them to make puppets here." I whispered in Lys's ear and she just nodded in agreement. The dean began to read the names and the screens showed each tribute.,, And the male tribute from the 7th district belongs to Miss (Y/N) Belladon.” My breath hitched as I stared at the face of the boy I was to lead to his death. He was tall with dark curls and gorgeous brown eyes.

Treech was the name

Treech was the name of my tribute

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosas x reader #treech tbosas #treech x reader #treech x mentor reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the hunger games #hunger games x reader #tigris snow #lucy gray baird #7th district #love #enemies to lovers #coriolanus snow

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fenricken · 6 months

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You Keep Slipping From My Grasp 2/7

AO3

Ship: Spirit Halloween

He felt arms wrap around his chest, pulling him up and out of the water. He gasped as his head breached the surface, and he came face to face with a young woman.

“Sir! what is that creature you came on!?” the woman asked him. He turned to where she was pointing, and saw a tentacled creature rearing back to attack them. He grabbed a sword that had been lying on the ground, and charged forward, ready to defend.

————

“Daaaad,” Dani groaned, hanging off Danny’s arm as he flew towards Clockwork’s lair. “Can I pleeease go with you to see Batman? I’m an expert on him!”

“First of all, you’re an expert in Robins and the best way to annoy them, and that’s not the same as being an expert in Batman. Secondly, you and Jazz have been quizzing me nonstop about the guy, I think I’m prepared!”

Dani pouts, “I just think he’s super cool. Besides! I know you’re a coward and you’d never actually talk to the guy without someone pushing you.”

Danny stops to turn to face Dani.

“Sweetie, I know you have a lot of experience hopping between dimensions and multiverses, but this situation is a bit different. Clockwork’s said he specifically sent me because I’m more resistant to the ill-effects of dimension-manipulation magic as an Ancient of Doors,” he takes a breath, making sure Dani’s full focus is on him.

“I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

Dani is still pouting, so Danny reaches out to take her face in his hands.

“I promise when this is settled you can drag me to meet Batman or annoy one of the Robins– whatever you want.”

Slowly, Dani turned wide, watery eyes to Danny. He was only able to keep looking into her puppy eyes for a short while before throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Ugh! Fine! I’ll ask Clockwork if you can at least watch, but I don’t know how much you’ll actually be able to see due to whatever’s blocking him.”

“Yes! Good enough!” Dani whoops, before speeding ahead towards Clockwork’s Lair.

Danny chuckled before following after.

————

Mordecai had been set to investigate what witch lived in Gotham nailing bats to Church doors. But his eyes were not as clouded as his brothers’, for he knew witches were less common than they liked to believe.

For example, this bat was nailed to the door with a knitting needle Goodwife Tyler had been using just yesterday. Mordecai knew too that Matthew Tyler would often beat his wife and had gone missing not long ago.

Of course, when he brought this to the attention of his fellow witch-hunters and peace-keepers, Brother Malleus had just insisted that Goodwife Tyler must be a witch and sent her to be dunked in the river until she confessed or drowned. Until Mordecai stopped him, that was.

Frustrated with the events of the day, Mordecai set out for the woods to meet with Annie. Many suspected her of being a witch, but she was the only one whose company he found solace in.

They talked of many things together–the accusations of her being a witch, their mutual distaste of Malleus, and Mordecai’s struggle to remember anything before waking up in Annie’s cabin almost 2 weeks ago.

Annie told him too of losing her parents, and being shunned to the woods. Of feeling a bit lost in the twists and turns of life. Mordecai had said then, “We have something in common Annie… both of us lost in our way.”

————

Danny leaned against a tree, watching Batman and Annie embrace. While he had watched Batman walk around Gotham, using investigative techniques to uncover the lack of witches, he had been mostly impressed that Batman had stayed so committed to his morals even without his memories.

Danny was entranced watching Batman insist on finding a different path forward beyond just declaring anything odd as witchcraft. It was exactly the kind of behavior Danny sought to promote as Ancient of Doors.

But the conversation he overheard between Batman and Annie was like a bucket of ice water over him. The reminder that Batman was separated from everything he knew, and everything that made him Batman. While he knew he could not actually do anything in this situation, and that even trying would probably lead to something worse, Danny yearned to help the hero he had grown so fond of, both from his own observations and the stories from Dani and other ghosts.

————

“The dragon’s been sighted in the woods! All witch-hunters fall in!”

Mordecai climbs on his horse, preparing to follow. He may not believe in this dragon, but clearly something is going on. The witch-hunters head into the woods, in the direction opposite Annie’s cabin.

But when they arrive, there’s no dragon—only the bones of seven men.

Mordecai hops off his horse to examine the bodies.

“Do you say now that witches and dragons don’t exist, Brother Mordecai?” Malleus asks.

“No, these men were dead before their flesh was eaten. See there— Matthew Tyler, his head caved in with what was probably a kitchen ladle.”

“Enough! You blame a ladle for this? When there’s a witness?” Malleus turns to face a villager that had come with them, “Tell Brother Mordecai what you saw.”

“It was a great beast, with seven heads and ten horns, just as the scripture tells. Each head was feeding on a different man…but when the bats came out to hunt, it fled.”

As the man spoke, Mordecai felt a sense of familiarity. In his mind, the image of a maw surrounded by thrashing tentacles arose.

Malleus continued, oblivious to Mordecai’s mental turmoil. “I will protect this town, as is my duty to god! They say an eclipse of the sun will come tomorrow, and by then, we will be ready!”

“An eclipse? There was something about an eclipse…” Mordecai muttered.

Malleus kept talking, but Mordecai was no longer listening.

With nothing to hunt, the witch-hunters left back to Gotham. Mordecai left to find Annie, to warn her of what was coming.

“You’re not safe here Annie. Malleus is a fanatic, and he doesn’t care about logic. I fear it’s only a matter of time before he sets his eyes on you. There’s something else too… something in these woods. The creature that attacked me, that night you found me. I remembered a bit more when I saw the traces of its destruction. It wasn’t the Church that sent me here, Annie. And I remember a dead man was with us… wearing these clothes. You took them from him and gave them to me, didn’t you? These are Mordecai’s clothes!” He grabbed on to her arm to keep her from fleeing. She didn’t answer for a moment, but he held her gaze.

“I saw you rise from the water myself. You came when I called. That’s all I know.”

“Called? Where did I come from? I need you to take me there, Annie!”

“Fine. It’s private, hidden. It belonged to the Miagani who were here before us. It means bat-people.” She stood to lead him to the cave where she met him, “I’ll tell you more when we get there, but we’ll have to travel through the night.”

“Always bats…” He mutters.

————

“I thought Danny said you couldn’t actually see much of what was happening? This is actually pretty clear.” Dani asked from her suspended upside-down position in front of the gear that followed Danny and Batman.

Clockwork turned to her, a small but smug smile on his face. “Well, it’s not totally clear…”

Dani narrowed her eyes at him. “You have some ulterior motive here don’t you, gramps…”

Clockwork turned back to the screens. “Well, I doubt it’s dissimilar to your motivations in encouraging your father to try talking to Batman. He could do with some… companionship.”

Dani looked horrified for a brief moment, thought for a bit, before an evil smile spread across her face. “While I feel like I should be grossed out that you’re trying to set dad up with someone, I think it’d be hilarious to show up at the Robins’ house as their new stepsister.”

“Then, we’re in accord, young Dani?”

“Oh yeah, I’m excited to see where this is going, gramps.”

Clockwork turned to another gear, and pressed his staff to it, showing a different image. “If you’re interested, I might have a mission you can undertake that would make this more… ‘fun’ for you.”

“I’m in!”

————

The cave was dark, illuminated poorly by the torch Annie carried. And yet, he couldn’t help but note there was something about these caves that felt like…home.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You weren’t out gathering herbs as you told me. It was you who summoned the dragon that killed the real Mordecai, wasn’t it?” he asked, watching Annie.

“I only wanted to chase him away. They sent him to hunt me! All those witch hunters playing at saints, but they don’t shy away from destroying the land and slaughtering animals and other people. The Miagani who were here before us had the right of it, so yes, when Mordecai was sent to hunt me, I prayed to their gods and asked for someone to save me. And then, you came, riding on the back of that thing they call the dragon. If you want to say I’m guilty of being a witch because I worship gods that are not theirs, then I’ll confess to you. My gods are not their god or their devil.”

Mordecai heard something in the quiet after she finished speaking.

“Annie, we have to get out of this place right now. There’s something down there-”

On cue, the tentacled creature rose from the water to attack.

“Run Annie, run!” he yelled, pulling out his swords to fend off the tentacles. He managed to cut one off before he was pushed back by two more. He stumbled, and reoriented himself, preparing to charge back in, but was distracted by quick footsteps approaching. Fearing Annie had returned, he turned to tell her to run again, but stopped short at the sight of a white-haired man in dark leather armor running toward the monster with his sword drawn.

“Look out!”, the other man shouted. Mordecai turned and ducked under an incoming tentacle. He heard a slashing sound as the white-haired man fended off more tentacles heading towards them. The two quickly fell into a rhythm as they fought the dragon, green tentacles and water falling around them as they danced and wove together.

Finally, Mordecai saw an opening at the creature’s mouth. He launched himself forward, sword aimed ahead.

His head breached the water, and he could only splutter and scrabble to keep his head above the water. He made his way to the beach ahead.

“Can’t forget this time… Man of Bats…”

————

Batman was gone now, and so was the tentacled monster. The residual energy from Batman’s jump felt the same as before.

Danny stepped out of the cave, noting that the eclipse had occurred, and the sun was now peeking out again.

He opened a portal, stepping back into Clockwork’s lair, sighing heavily. He set his sword down, and stretched out his shoulders.

“So…” he started, staring at Clockwork’s back, nervous.

“I’m not mad, Danny. I think you did the right thing.” Clockwork turned to face Danny, smiling slightly. “Come here, and give me your sword.”

Danny came to stand next to Clockwork in front of a lab he must’ve set up while Danny was gone. Danny put his sword on the table. Clockwork got to work taking a sample of the monster’s blood that was still on it.

“I asked your parents to come, as I thought we may be able to make use of their expertise in figuring out what is causing Batman to travel through time. While we’re waiting, we might as well check to see how the monster might be related to what’s happening. I assumed you didn’t read the energy of the monster for yourself.”

“No, I’m sorry Clockwork. Everything happened so quickly, and I just-”

Clockwork put his hand on Danny’s shoulder to cut him off. “I think you handled everything just fine, Danny. It was a stressful situation, and you jumped in to protect Batman, which was good. In any case, we still have the blood from the creature, so we can still just examine that. You made the right choices in the situation, Danny. I don’t want you getting stuck thinking that you could’ve been better when you did what was needed. Now, we just need to focus on next steps.”

“Thanks, Clockwork.” Danny said, smiling slightly. He held out his hand for the blood sample, which Clockwork gave him.

“Now, focus, and see if it’s similar to the energy you detected off Batman before.”

Danny did as Clockwork directed. The energy from the blood felt faint, but Danny was still able to feel it. “It feels the same,” he told Clockwork.

Clockwork nodded, taking the vial and setting it down on the table. “Let’s leave this for your parents to study when they get here.”

“CLOCKY! GRANDPA! I’M BAAAACK!” they heard shouting from below, before Dani, in her human form, popped her head through the floor, her tongue sticking out.

“OH! Dad’s here! Great! Pops and Nana are on their way up too.” Dani finished pulling her body through the floor before running to squeeze between Clockwork and Danny.

They heard the clomping of Jack Fenton climbing the stairs, and a moment later they saw Maddie’s red hair.

“Dann-o! Clockwork called us to say you found something new and mysterious! Tell us everything!”

Clockwork chuckled. “How about we sit down for some tea and hot chocolate first. I see Mrs. Fenton brought fudge, and I should be able to find some cookies I got from an old friend.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Danny said, smiling.

A/N:

I'm not exactly trying to shy away from "darker" themes, but yeah if I'm not in the mood, I'm definitely going to keep away from things I think are over a certain line.

On that note:

Deliberately didn’t include what happens to Annie in the end, because I felt like it would change the overall tone of this story considering how serious that matter is. Similarly, tried to cut out most of the bible talk, but honestly considering where my biases lie and also just embodying Annie when writing her great rant, I gave up cutting all of it out. I'm hoping it's not too bad.

Spoiler-ish of what happens to Annie if you are planning on reading Batman: Return of Bruce Wayne:

It's not good, but definitely not as terrible as I fear I'm making it out to be. Think 'typical violence against witches'

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc crossover #spirit halloween ship #batman comic rewrite basically

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 6 months

Text

A Gentleman Boyfriend

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Blank, ageless, and suspicious blogs will be blocked.

Mai: "Huh?"

(No way. Why?)

(Why is my sketchbook in here!?)

I couldn't help but break into a cold sweat as I noticed my sketchbook, full of compliments about Kicho, had somehow found its way into the bag.

If someone saw me bringing it to our client's mansion, this would turn into a big problem.

(How did this happen?)

I frantically retraced my memories.

(I remember taking it out the night before yesterday.)

------------Flashback-----------

(I have to write this down before I forget!)

I took the sketchbook off the shelf and started writing.

Mai: "Let's see..."

I relied on my memory, but after spending the entire morning together, there were some details I couldn't recall.

(What a bummer. I wanted to record everything about him in detail.)

(Oh, I know! I just need to carry it with me and find opportunities to take notes.)

Without giving it much thought, I put the notebook into the bag I usually use.

---------Flashback Ends---------

(Stupid Mai! It's me! I'm the culprit!)

Kicho: "What's wrong, Mai?"

He saw me standing there, frozen, and peered into the bag.

Mai: "Actually..."

Kicho: "Don't tell me you forgot your designs."

Mai: "Of course not. Look, they're right here!"

I pulled out my designs and quickly organized my bag.

He then took the designs from my hand and examined them.

Kicho: "You're right, everything is here."

Mai: "Yup, everything is all set."

Kicho: "Then why are you panicking?"

Mai: "It's not that I'm panicking. I'm just a little nervous."

At that moment, I sensed someone approaching from behind the sliding door.

Darren: "Kicho, Miss Mai, I apologize for keeping you waiting."

Kicho: "No worries, we've just arrived as well."

With the arrival of our business client, the conversation shifted, making me sigh in relief.

(Phew. It looks like he won't ask me about the sketchbook now.)

Kicho: "We'd like to discuss the designs Mai brought with her."

Darren: "Oh, I'm looking forward to it! Let's take a look right away."

I gathered my designs, and the negotiation began.

Darren: "All of these ideas are fantastic! I can picture my wife wearing some of them."

Kicho: "What about this one? Considering your original requirements, this one might be closer to it."

Darren: "You're right. Both are wonderful!"

(Great, it looks like the negotiations will go smoothly.)

I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw Darren's happy expression.

Kicho: "What do you think, Mai?"

Mai: "Me? I really like this dress in particular."

Darren: "I see. It's elegant, but if I were to suggest something, it could use a bit more flair."

Darren: "Is there something with a similar design but larger patterns?"

Mai: "Ah, in that case..."

(I think there's another dress with an elaborate design.)

I was about to respond when I suddenly realized that the only other design I had with larger patterns was in the sketchbook.

(What should I do? That page is full of notes about Kicho!)

I reached for my sketchbook but hesitated to show it to them.

Darren: "Is something wrong? If it's in there, please show it to us."

(As embarrassing as it is, I have no choice but to show it!)

Just as I was about to open the sketchbook, a piece of blank paper was smoothly handed to me from my side.

Kicho: "Use this."

(Eh? Kicho?)

He turned to Darren and spoke in a composed tone.

Kicho: "As an artist, she's hesitant to show an unfinished design publicly."

Kicho: "Let's have her redraw the design on this paper."

(I see. He's helping me out.)

Seeing Kicho's dignified side, I managed to regain my composure.

Darren: "I apologize for not noticing."

Mai: "No, I'm the one who should apologize."

Kicho: "Mai, can you draw it?"

Mai: "Yes, of course. I'll redraw it right away."

Darren: "I look forward to it!"

Darren's eyes were gleaming as I looked down at my hand holding the brush.

Thanks to Kicho's help, I was able to get through the situation and successfully conclude the business negotiations.

That night, I visited Kicho's room to express my gratitude.

Mai: "Kicho, do you have a moment?"

Kicho: "What's the matter? You don't need to be so formal."

Mai: "I came to thank you."

Mai: "I really appreciate what you did today. The business meeting went well, thanks to you."

Kicho: "I was just there as an interpreter. I didn't do anything special."

Kicho: "Your success was because of your skills."

After saying that, a feeling of pride swelled in my chest as the person I loved recognized me.

(But it's not just that. I couldn't have handled those negotiations on my own.)

Mai: "You helped me when I hesitated to show the sketchbook."

Kicho: "You mean by giving you the paper?"

Mai: "Yes, I was saved by that. So, it's thanks to you."

Kicho: "It's only natural to help when someone you love is in trouble. I've said that before, haven't I?"

(He really is a gentleman.)

My heart started beating faster as I felt the gentle love in his eyes.

Kicho: "I'm just happy I could be of any help to you, even if only a little."

Kicho: "But there's one thing I'd like to ask."

Mai: "There's something you want to ask?"

Kicho: "Yeah, I remember the other day you hid that sketchbook from me when I came into your room."

Mai: "You noticed?"

Kicho: "Normally, you leave your sketches out in the open, but at that time, you deliberately covered them on your desk."

(So he knew I didn't want anyone to see that sketchbook, and that's why he helped me.)

Kicho: "You were trying to hide it, so there must be something important written in there."

Mai: "That's..."

Kicho: "Don't worry. I won't pry into your secrets."

Kicho: "I was just a little curious."

With that, Kicho turned his gaze away.

The moment I saw his lonely expression一

Mai: "That's not it!"

I hastily tried to explain.

Mai: "I don't have any secrets that I want to keep from you."

Kicho: "But that was..."

I saw a hint of confusion in his eyes.

(I don't want to see him with that expression again!)

With these feelings in my heart, I grabbed the sleeves of his clothes.

Kicho: "Mai?"

Mai: "It's not like that at all!"

Mai: "Come with me."

I guided him and led him to my room.

Mai: "Please have a look. I don't intend to hide it anymore."

I took out the sketchbook and boldly handed it to Kicho.

Kicho: "That sketchbook…"

He nodded as if he understood.

Mai: "I use it as a sketchbook, but I also write down my feelings on it."

Kicho: "So you mean it's also a diary?"

Kicho: "But are you sure I can take a look?"

Mai: "Yes. Go ahead and take a look."

Kicho: "----?"

He tilted his head curiously but then decided to open it.

Kicho: ".........."

Mai: ".........."

(This is so awkward!)

Enduring the embarrassment, I watched as Kicho read through the pages.

Eventually, he closed it and placed it on the desk.

Kicho: "Mai."

Mai: "Y-Yeah--"

Before I could finish my sentence, he wrapped his arms around my back.

Kicho: "I understand the feelings you have for me."

Kicho: "And this is my answer to you."

Mai: "Huh? Mmm--"

His lips pressed against mine, and I quickly realized what was happening.

His deep and tender kiss conveyed feelings of love, leaving me breathless.

Mai: "Haaa..."

Our lips parted, and he gazed at me, smiling gently.

Kicho: "You not only see me clearly but also appreciate every little thing I do."

Kicho: "Thank you. I love you just as much."

Mai: "Mmm..."

Lost in his blushing smile, he planted another kiss on my lips.

I responded to his kisses and felt my body floating momentarily, realizing he'd placed me on the bed.

Kicho: "Mai."

Kicho: "I want to touch you more."

(I want to touch him more, too.)

While receiving his sweet kisses, I anticipated a blissful night and closed my eyes in a daze.

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen kicho #kicho #ikesen #ikesen jp #ikesen kichou #cybird #ikesen translations

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raspberryfingers · 1 year

Text

A Lion in the Garden -Tywin Lannister x Reader- (Part 8)

WARNINGS: Tywin being the largest asshole ever

Word Count: 6.5k

—————

Ever since I’d given Lord Tywin the ring, things had changed between us. And despite what one might assume, our relationship hadn’t changed for the better. In the last two weeks, Lord Tywin had been cold, flippant, and arrogant whenever I’d tried to talk with him. At first I’d just assumed he was having a bad day, or was frustrated by politics and war, the sort of thing men will let themselves be frustrated by. Then I remembered that it was Tyrion’s name day, and naturally thought that it must’ve been a rather painful anniversary for him. But no, even after that had passed, he did not warm up to me.

It became incredibly apparent to me that I was somehow the problem, and what was most annoying was that I had not a single clue as to why. He’d seemed overjoyed when I’d given him the ring, I mean for the gods’ sake, he’d even called me by my name alone.

But now he was dreadful, always grumbling and making excuses whenever we saw one another. They were not even good excuses either, and some had just been outright lies. I had been meaning to confront him about his behavior anyway, but I snapped today.

It had started perfectly fine, a bit dull at the worst, but fine. My grandmother had other business to attend to—which, in reality, meant she did not want to do anything—and so I took her place in the great hall. Though it was ‘unofficial’, there were certain days where the lords and ladies would gather to gossip, plan, and learn unnecessary information about each other. Today was one of those days, and I found myself enveloped in an extremely boring conversation with several noble ladies.

“Lady Trysta was seen flirting with Lord Darren in the gardens yesterday, can you believe it?”

“Gods, isn’t his wife pregnant with their first child?”

“I don’t believe such nonsense. Lady Trysta is a very noble woman, surely she wouldn’t do something so insulting.”

I wondered how my grandmother managed to survive such droll conversations, though I understood that this was why she had sent me in her place. She might’ve sent Margaery if not for the fact that she was with King Joffrey today, and that thought at least provided some reassurance.

But still, I was not the politician that either my grandmother or sister were. I supposed I just preferred real politics to court gossip, though usually the two must go hand in hand.

When I spotted Lord Varys exiting a conversation across the room, however, I took my chance. It would seem far less rude to exit the conversation if it appeared as though I was going to speak with someone else.

“Excuse me, ladies,” I said softly, moving back from the circle and making my way across the room. I did not stay close enough to hear anything they’d said, nor did I look back to see their faces. I quite honestly did not care enough.

Lord Varys saw me coming and brought his hands together in expectation. I gave him a subtle smile, and he raised his eyebrow in response. When I reached him, he bowed his head.

“Lady (Y/N).”

“Lord Varys, how are you?”

“Perfectly fine, my lady. And how are you?” He asked, lowering his hands to his lap. I’d always found Lord Varys to be an agreeable man. Of course, he was still one to be cautious around, but he was infinitely better than Littlefinger, and the short interactions we’d had were enjoyable.

“I have been better and been worse, my lord,” I answered truthfully, knowing it couldn’t really do me any harm. The Spider gave a low chuckle.

“I hear there is news of the change in the wedding plans,” he mentioned, to which I huffed out. There was another thing I needed to discuss with Lord Tywin, as he had not been willing to give Sansa Stark to my brother. She was now to wed Tyrion, and Loras was to wed Cersei. My grandmother had agreed out of fear of Loras being appointed kingsguard, but I would sooner rot in all seven hells than watch my brother marry Cersei Lannister.

“That arrangement certainly does not make me feel better, but it is not that. May I unburden myself to you, Lord Varys?” I asked, hoping for someone wise and reasonable to listen to me. It was not as though I could talk about it to any of my family members, for I feared they would tease and ask far too many questions. They of all people would be surprised to hear me complain that Tywin Lannister was being rude to me, or at least surprised to hear that I wished to remedy the situation.

“Is it something that can be used against you?” he asked, taking a breath and tilting his head. It was good of him to at least give me that warning, even if I already knew better.

“I highly doubt it. I wouldn’t have even brought it up if it was.”

“Smart of you, Lady Tyrell. By all means, go ahead.”

I smiled, and so did Lord Varys. To say that we were friends was a false statement, but I preferred his company to quite a lot of people’s in King’s Landing.

“Recently, I believed Lord Tywin and I to be having an improving relationship. It was rather nice, because being allies with a man you hate is quite frustrating, as I’m sure you can imagine. But, these last two weeks, he’s distanced himself from me more than is anywhere close to reasonable, and I cannot think of anything I may have done wrong,” I explained, sighing and glancing up at the throne, which sat directly over Lord Varys’ shoulder.

The Spider nodded, contemplating and looking down. I saw a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it disappeared just as fast as it had come. I might’ve asked about it had he not replied so quickly afterward.

“Don’t worry yourself with it, Lady (Y/N). Lord Tywin can be unpredictable at times, I’m certain that whatever reason he has for being a bit colder than usual is a good one,” he assured me, reaching out and placing a hand on my shoulder. I sighed, gazing across the room where Lord Tywin himself was engaged in a conversation. He was not saying much, but it was clear that everyone in the circle spoke as if they needed his approval.

At that instant, however, he looked over and met my gaze. He only held it for a moment, though, as his eyes then looked Lord Varys over rather thoughtfully. His face twisted bitterly, and he focused on the man speaking again. Lord Varys removed his hand from me, giving me a rather sympathetic look.

“I- I have considered speaking to him about the subject, though I’m not entirely sure if that would be a good idea considering that Lord Tywin is… well, Lord Tywin,” I said, finally turning my head to look at the man in front of me again. He blinked a few times with contemplation and then sighed out.

“The Hand certainly is a complicated man, but I think if you approached him about it in the right way he might be receptive. I do hope you will figure it out, my lady. It would be quite nice to see you and Lord Tywin getting along for a change,” Lord Varys replied, giving the gentlest of smiles. I looked over at the group of men with Lord Tywin again and got the sudden urge to go over.

“Would you come with me, Lord Varys? I’d like to hear that conversation, and I think being on your arm would seem a more natural reason to join it.”

“Of course, my lady.”

I took the Spider’s arm, and we found ourselves wandering across the hall and joining the circle in a matter of moments. The Master of Whispers was never out of place in any conversation, and beside him, neither was I. Lord Tywin gazed at me for a mere second and then returned his focus to the man talking. I was the only woman in the group, naturally.

“Robb Stark wants to behead Rickard Karstark now. The man went and killed two Lannister boys all because he’s bitter,” one of them said, scoffing out as if the notion was utterly ridiculous. Another man glared and shook his head.

“You’d be bitter too if someone killed your boy. Of course, the man’s a bloody fool for doing it, but the anger is understandable.”

“Well, I hope ‘the King in the North’ does the honorable thing like his father would’ve. He’ll lose all the Karstark bannermen if he does. The war will be over five seconds after the man’s head is gone.”

“And he’s got no substantial allies then.”

Feeling the urge to speak up, I let go of Lord Varys’ arm and cleared my throat to grab all the men’s attention. “Robb Stark is a great strategist if nothing else, gentleman. It would be unwise to underestimate him simply because his numbers are small.”

I expected to meet resistance from a few of them, just as women always do in such a setting, but I had not expected it from the Hand of the King himself.

“His numbers aren’t small, he does not have numbers at all. Robb Stark is just like his father, too honorable, and the second Rickard Karstark loses his head, we win,” Lord Tywin spoke, giving me a somewhat condescending look. Everyone seemed surprised, as he’d been very quiet for most of the discussion. My annoyance grew. Why challenge me in a circle of already skeptical men? It depleted my credibility and made me look foolish.

“I’ve heard whispers that Robb Stark has received a request from Walder Frey. Though the boy is already married, Lord Frey wishes to have his uncle, Edmure Tully, marry one of his daughters,” Lord Varys added, and I appreciated his conscious aid, for Lord Tywin was feeling particularly ‘cunt-ish’ this afternoon.

“And if that were to happen, that alliance could be worrisome and a threat,” I said, proving my point as my eyebrows furrowed with anger. The circle grew awkward as the aggression built between Lord Tywin and I.

“Walder Frey will never make an alliance with Robb Stark.”

“And how do you know that? Did you become all knowing since the last time we spoke, Lord Tywin?”

“I know that because I’m not a fool.”

The circle went utterly silent, and not a single man released or took a breath. I felt my eyes twitch. No, I would not stand here and let Lord Tywin embarrass me. We’d always had conflicts, but how dare he insult me so harshly in front of others?

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” I said sharply, removing myself from them. As I did, Varys gave me a soft look of apology, and I would thank him for it later. As I walked away, however, I heard Lord Tywin say one last thing.

“Forgive her, gentlemen. Lady Tyrell is young and naive, nothing more than a girl, really. She’s under the impression that commanding her father’s armies gives her far more power and influence than she really has. It would be unfair to judge her knowledge of real politics.”

I heard laughter coming from the group, and only for a second did I stop walking. I felt my heart shatter at his words, though it did not take long for anger to replace the hurt.

How dare he?

How dare he embarrass me so publicly? Because his testing tone and his insults had merely been aggravating to my face, but behind my back and not directly to me, they were unforgivable. After every conversation we’d had? After he’d directly confirmed that he did not view me as childish or stupid, he dared to insinuate that I was both things to a group of men that did not know me?

He was well aware of the fact that I did not like to be discredited, and yet he had said such a thing anyway. Perhaps I had overestimated both how truthful and how understanding the Old Lion was.

Despite this feeling of disgust, I continued to walk out of the hall, though anger and possibly even heat were omitted from every step I took. It would stay that way until I confronted him that afternoon, when it would only get worse.

—————

When I entered Lord Tywin’s office, I thought I might explode. He did not even look up at me when I entered, acting as though I simply wasn’t there. He just went on answering letters, completely unaffected by my presence in the room.

I heard the double doors shut behind me, and even more angry about the fact that he was not acknowledging my presence, I made purposeful strides towards his desk. When I reached it, he still would not lift his head.

“Lord Tywin, I wish to speak with you,” I said, balling my fists at my sides to try and contain my fury. I was also trying so hard not to sound rude that I instead sounded like something was stuck in my throat.

“You already are,” he replied curtly, still scratching something down on his parchment. I scowled, reaching across his desk and ripping his stupid quill from his hands. He did not seem shocked, he simply looked at me with boredom. It was as if he was asking me ‘are you done?’.

“I want to speak with you, not at you,” I clarified sternly, placing the quill down on the wood now that Lord Tywin had at least bothered to look at me.

“And what is it that you wish to discuss?”

I could only gape at him for a moment, raising both eyebrows to ask if he was being entirely serious. When he said nothing, I scoffed and clenched my jaw. “What is it that I wish to discuss? I don’t know, perhaps the atrocious way that you treated me today!”

“I don’t know what you mean, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, giving me the most condescending look I’d ever seen. I, however, was in shock. Lady Tyrell?

Lady fucking Tyrell?

“Lady Tyrell, Lord Tywin? Are you serious? And don’t play stupid with me, you’re above that. You embarrassed me in front of all those lords. You made me look like a desperate fool and an idiot,” I hissed, glaring down at him with more anger than I even knew I possessed. I’d suffered quite a lot of insults in my life, but none so degrading as the ones I’d heard from him today.

“You were behaving like one, Lady Tyrell,” he replied, making my knuckles go white on his desk. In all the time that I’d known him, he’d very seldom called me by that title. Many did, but not him. Not when speaking to me, at least.

“Stop fucking calling me that! I’d rather you call me an insufferable cunt than Lady Tyrell!” I shouted in a rare moment of utter frustration. Somehow, him referring to me that way was even more upsetting than him saying that I was childish. I hadn’t a clue why that was.

For just a moment, there was a flash of surprise in the Lord Hand’s eyes. It had been quite some time since I’d yelled at him that way, and I supposed he hadn’t been expecting it. It seemed that my words had gagged the man, for he merely stood up from his seat to be at a more even level to me. Had I been anyone else, his height would’ve been intimidating, but I knew exactly what he was doing and it only made me more bold.

“You crossed a line today, Lord Tywin. Embarrassing me to my face is one thing, and perhaps you believe I deserved that, but when I’m not even present in the conversation and you have the audacity to call me desperate and witless, that is entirely another! You ought to have had the decency to at least try and defend me as Lord Varys did. No, instead you actively opposed me like my sentiment was somehow the most foolish one you’d ever heard, and if you’re honest with yourself, you know that what I was saying made sense,” I ranted, glaring at him and slowly making my way around his desk as I did. I was taking slow, furious steps, and eventually I was standing right in front of him. There was unbridled anger on his face now, and I was at the very least satisfied to have broken his unbothered facade.

“And what would you have had me say? Whether you believe yourself to be clever or not, I don’t agree with your sentiments about Robb Stark and Walder Frey,” he replied, only addressing the most trivial part of my frustration. I sighed, shaking my head at him.

“I’m not asking you to agree with me, but forgive me for wanting you to have at least not embarrassed me. Is that so unimaginable to you? I mean gods help me, Lord Varys! How is it that Lord Varys, a man I hardly know, made me look more credible than you did? Have I overstated our friendship? Do you truly care for me that little?” I went off on him, taking a step forward so that I was practically looking directly up at him. I was unbelievably angry, though more than anything I was hurt.

“We are not friends, Lady (Y/N)! We are allies. Allies! I have no obligation to defend you anywhere but the battlefield. Nor do I have to honor your image, especially when you are so prone to foolishness. Most importantly, I have no obligation to be kind to you at all. Perhaps if you’d had the sense to remind yourself of that, you wouldn’t be so upset in the first place,” he shot back, nose wrinkling with his anger while he spoke. I was relieved to—at the very least—hear him use my name, but also hurt at his sentiment. Although, I was not just going to accept that. I was not one to overstate relationships, and I would not let him treat me like I was groveling for his affection. After all, it was I who had struggled to see him as anything but an enemy.

“Merely allies, Lord Tywin? Be honest with yourself. You have saved my life during the battle, and you helped me back to my room when my stitches split. You had a new pair of armor made for me which was far more elegant than any reasonable person would’ve asked for, and you paid for the smith to fix my Valyrian steel sword. We quite literally hunted, dined, and slept outside together! You want to tell me that we’re not friends? Even after all that? You’re currently wearing a ring that I had made for you and you truly want to believe we aren’t anything more than just allies?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and searching for any hint of emotion in his eyes. I was only trying to clear up where he’d gotten lost, or maybe where I had.

Lord Tywin only glared at me, and after a moment he lifted his hand. I watched him grab at the ring, twisting it back and forth to loosen it from his skin before pulling it off entirely. He grabbed my hand then, opening it up and placing the Valyrian steel inside my palm. Looking at it, my heart sank all the way into my stomach. Tears suddenly began to prick at my eyes, but I looked down. The Lord Hand would not see me cry.

We stood there in silence for a minute, and even though he couldn’t see my eyes, he could obviously tell that he had hurt me. He decided he might as well put the nail in the coffin.

“You really still are that naive and foolish girl from all those years ago, aren’t you-“

As I heard Lord Tywin say it, my hurt suddenly turned into fury. How dare he behave like this? I couldn’t contain myself anymore, even if I’d wanted to.

Though my left hand was holding the ring in it, my right hand was completely free. I slapped Tywin Lannister across the face with all the strength I had in me. My hand was stinging, and he let out a choked noise as I did it. His cheek already looked flushed, and I was rather satisfied with it.

Though, my satisfaction did not last long. Lord Tywin’s eyes filled with hot rage, and he gripped my forearms before pulling me into him harshly. I was pressed up against him, glaring up at him with defiance.

“I will not hit you, Lady Tyrell, but be careful,” he warned, tone low and threatening. My chest was heaving, and so was his.

“It won’t be a problem, Lord Hand. I never wish to speak to you again, civilly or otherwise.” I broke free of his grasp, giving him one last glare and turning my back to him. I made my way out of the room in silence, and only once the door had shut behind me did I permit myself to cry.

—————

Lord Tywin sighed, slumping back in his chair and gripping the arms of it. He looked up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the guilt that was chewing away at him. Gods, why had he said all that to you?

His cheek still stung, but he was not bitter. He had pushed you so far you’d felt the need to do that, and that hurt more than any physical pain he was experiencing. And truthfully, he couldn’t stand the lack of weight on his left hand.

“Stupid…” he muttered to himself, sitting up straight again and attempting to return to writing letters. He reached for the quill you’d left on the opposite side of the table, his lips pressing together as he dipped the tip of it into his inkwell. He needed to get his mind off of you, that was all.

The Lord Hand began scratching down words on his parchment, but he got no farther than a sentence. He could not get the image of you out of his head. The way you’d frozen when he’d insulted you in the Great Hall, the way your head had refused to lift when he’d given you back the ring. It was gut wrenching.

He could only scowl to himself, pushing his chair back with such force that it scraped against the stone floor and created an extremely unpleasant noise. Lord Tywin stood, going over to the cabinet at the side of the room to pour himself a cup of wine. He downed it much quicker than he normally would’ve.

Gods, he shouldn’t have grabbed you the way he did. He shouldn’t have said any of what he had. But this was what he’d wanted, wasn’t it? To drive you away? He reflected that it had been a simple concept to consider, but now that you truly didn’t wish to speak with him, it hurt so much more than he’d ever imagined.

The sound of thunder distracted him from his thoughts, and it made him flinch. He hadn’t even realized that it was raining outside, if he was honest. Going over to the window, though, he realized he could smell it. He couldn’t recall the last time it had rained in King’s Landing.

No, Lord Tywin could not bear this. No amount of time or distraction would solve this aching. He needed to speak with you, even if you yelled and hit him. He didn’t care; you looked beautiful when you were angry. Perhaps that was what had caused this… affection to form. He did not like that he couldn’t control it.

Firm in his decision, the Old Lion found himself exiting his office and rushing down the stairs in the Tower of the Hand much faster than he probably should’ve been. He couldn’t have cared less, though. All that mattered to him was clearing things up. What if you couldn’t forgive him?

He pushed these thoughts away, walking through the Red Keep with an unmatched pace. His only objective was to reach your room, it did not matter who he passed by. He would speak to you if it was the last thing he did.

“I’d like to speak to Lady (Y/N),” he said to Ser Elias, having arrived at your door and seeing the abnormally tall man standing in front of it. The knight only shook his head.

“She’s gone out, my lord. She- She went to the stables in quite a rush,” he explained to Lord Tywin, making the older man raise an eyebrow and tilt his head.

“And you did not go with her?” He questioned, perhaps glad that he hadn’t but simultaneously furious that you intended to go out and had no protection. Was this knight the stupidest man in all seven kingdoms?

“I- I attempted to convince her, my lord, but she did not want me. I fear she- she requires some time alone,” Ser Elias answered with embarrassment, knowing that he ought to have done more convincing than he actually did. You were sobbing, who was he to argue with you and make it worse? He regretted it now, though.

“And you’re certain she went out? Do not lie to me, Ser,” the Lord Hand warned, trying to make sure that the knight wasn’t merely covering for you.

“Yes, my lord, she did. You may take my tongue if I'm lying,” he replied, to which the Old Lion nodded. Though, he suddenly realized that you were going out in the rain. Gods, he had to go find you. He did not want you to get sick.

Lord Tywin glared at the taller man in front of him before rushing away, needing to get to the stables as soon as he possibly could. The rain had begun to come down quite hard, and if you had been eager to go out you would still be in the dress you’d been wearing all day, and that was not suitable attire for rain like this. According to many ladies at court, it was not suitable attire for anything. Well, perhaps it worked in one situation.

When the Lord Hand reached the stables, he was practically breathless, and yet he was shouting at the men there to saddle his horse as quickly as possible. They did so, and one of them offered him a cloak for the rain. He considered turning it down, but he figured it might be useful to wrap you in the thing once he found you.

As he mounted his horse and began riding through King’s Landing, he realized there was that problem too. You could be anywhere in the city or in the Kingswood, how was he to figure such a thing out? He tried to recall if you’d ever mentioned anything, perhaps a certain spot that you enjoyed. Thankfully, it did not take long for one idea to come to him. He just had to pray that you were actually where he thought you were.

The rain was a heavy downpour as he made his way through the city, and Lord Tywin felt awful. Had it not been for him, you would not have felt the need to ride out here in such weather to begin with. He was thankfully rather protected by his tall boots and his leather coat, but his hair was drenched. He could not even begin to imagine the state you were in.

The Old Lion was riding as hard as his horse would let him, especially now that he had reached the Kingswood. He was searching desperately, trying to find the location he suspected you would be. His eyes were constantly going back and forth in an attempt to find any sign of you as quickly as he could. Even despite the tree cover, the rain was still coming through with a violence.

The sudden neighing of a horse caught his attention, and he worked his way toward it as precisely as possible. The sound of thunder was quite prominent, and he found himself stopping for minutes at a time to listen for anything besides that.

Eventually, however, he found your horse tied to a tree. Right beside it was a much larger one, and he instantly recognized it as the one you’d tried to climb when the two of you had gone hunting.

Lord Tywin pulled on his reins, stopping his horse and holding a hand above his eyes to block the downpour. He squinted as he looked up toward the tree’s branches, and he let out a sigh of relief once he did. Just as he had suspected, there you were, nestled among the tree’s branches. Thank the gods, you were safe. Now all he had to do was speak with you.

—————

I couldn’t recall how long I’d been sitting in this damned tree. From the moment I’d left the Tower of the Hand, I had begun to dissociate. All I knew was that I needed to be away, and this had seemed the most natural place to come, even despite the rain.

Speaking of which, I was utterly drenched. My dress was soaked, and so was my hair, and yet somehow I did not mind that half as much as I minded the emotional turmoil I was experiencing. It was unbelievably frustrating to feel this way, especially over Tywin Lannister.

It was so degrading, for I’d despised the man for so long and the second that I’d dared to let myself feel anything other than hatred for him, he’d decided to do this. The worst part was I had absolutely no clue what had happened, for when we’d gone to the smith together everything had been fine. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done to make the Lord Hand so cold to me, and yet he was anyway.

I found myself wiping tears from my eyes even though I shouldn’t have bothered, as the rain was ten times worse. I could taste them in my throat, and I loathed it. Surely this man was not worth crying over, so why was I? He was rude, overly confident, and the most immoral person I’d ever met. I felt pathetic, and I wanted the tears to stop more than anything. They just wouldn’t.

“Lady (Y/N)!”

I felt a chill run up my spine at the sound of my name, and when I moved my head over to look down, I found the Lord Hand on his horse. He was at the base of the tree, looking up at me with his hand above his eyes to keep the rain off of them. The sight of him was somehow both relieving and infuriating. I did not want to speak with him, but he’d come for me even in the pouring rain.

That didn’t mean I was letting him off the hook, however, and after setting my eyes upon him I instantly turned my head the other way. I had told him I didn’t wish to speak with him and I meant it.

“Lady (Y/N) I- I wish to explain myself!” Lord Tywin shouted up at me, trying to make sure that he was audible over the annoyingly loud rain. I had no intention whatsoever to let him know that I could hear him.

“I have- I have been cold to you these last two weeks, I am not going to feign ignorance. I’ve made excuses as to why I cannot speak with you, and I have actively avoided you. You did not deserve that treatment, and you most certainly did not deserve the things that I did and said today,” he said, straining his voice and pausing in between sentences to think through everything he was saying. He almost sounded breathless, and it struck me as odd.

“I was cruel, and I cannot blame you for your anger. Even if I could, I wouldn’t. You- You have gone against your better judgment in associating with me, for I know that I make it quite hard. I’m simply… I’m hesitant, Lady (Y/N),” Lord Tywin continued, and I could sense a certain desperation in his voice. I finally allowed myself to look over at him, and though I could not see him particularly well from the top of the tree, I could certainly see that he truly meant what he was saying. “The last true friend I had was the late King Aerys, and he betrayed my trust in every way imaginable. And you… you already harbor quite a lot of negative feelings toward me, so when you gave me the ring, I- I became afraid. I did not want to permit myself to be hurt if you should suddenly regret tolerating me.”

“So you decided that pushing me away was the best option?” I scowled suddenly, no longer capable of holding in my anger as I turned to face him. Did he really think that his little ‘explanation’ was going to make me forgive him?

“Yes, that is exactly what I decided. And I understand that it was foolish and selfish of me, that is why I am here. I initially believed that- that if I simply pushed you away now it would not hurt me, but the second that you left my office, Lady (Y/N)… even the second that you left the great hall, I understood the gravity of- of my feelings,” he said, grappling with his reins as a sudden clap of thunder startled the animal beneath him. I could only stare at him.

“Your feelings?”

“Yes, my feelings. I desire your friendship, let me be clear about that. Even if I- Even if I believed it was best to push you away, it is not what I wanted. You are infuriating, Lady (Y/N), and I crave it. You yell at me, you lecture me, and then you take my arm all the same. You’re a challenge, and it is invigorating. No matter how many gifts I buy, or how many compliments I give, you’re never complacent. You have made me work not just for your companionship, but simply for the right to be tolerated, so much so that I now yearn for it,” Lord Tywin replied, removing his hand from above his eyes so that I might actually see them. He ran it through his dripping hair instead, slicking it back and blinking hard as the rain came down. I could see the water running down his face, and I pondered that I was like a maiden in a song or a story. Though, Lord Tywin was not my lover, nor was he making a love confession. And unlike those maidens, I still found myself somewhat upset.

“And what happens once you tire of this ‘challenge’, my lord? Why, besides that, do you want my friendship? Because as far as I am concerned, you currently have no problem rejecting my offering of it,” I pointed out, similarly moving the wet hair out of my face. The odds of me being sick tomorrow were almost certainly 100.

Lord Tywin blinked a few more times, wiping the water from his face with his hand and swallowing. He sighed out then, looking down for a moment before meeting my eyes again. “Because despite my insults, you are incredibly intelligent, not to mention kind—at least when you’re not angry. But more than that, you… you make me smile… and laugh… and I am not known for doing either of those things. I understand that when you granted me that ring, it was not simply an object, but an offering of your friendship. And I- I sincerely regret turning such a thing down. That is why I am here, Lady (Y/N). I am here because I need your friendship, and I am- I am sorry…”

Even despite the rain, I could see that the Great Lion was looking at me with the utmost fondness in his eyes, and I felt my breath catching in my throat as I processed what he was saying. My head did not want to forgive him, but my heart was tugging at me, perhaps even begging me to.

Because I could not betray either of them, I simply stared at Lord Tywin. In all honesty, I hadn’t a clue what I would say even if I felt capable of speaking. The Hand of the King continued to gaze up at me, and when he realized that I had no intention to say anything, he said the only thing that was left to say.

“Lady (Y/N), please come down. You’re- You’re going to get sick.”

Although I could not reply, I certainly could do this. Even I had to admit that the feeling of being continually stuck in the rain like this was growing uncomfortable. Gods, the ride back to the Red Keep was going to be awful.

Carefully, I adjusted my grip on the tree and began to move my legs over to the side. Lord Tywin knew that I intended to come down, and naturally dismounted his horse to make sure that I was safe as I did.

I held onto the different branches and crevices of the giant tree, and slowly began to work my way down it. The bark was rough and damp against my palms, but I felt sure footed even despite that. I made relatively quick work of it, and once I was close enough to the ground I simply jumped down.

I had not accounted for how slippery the leaves would be, however, and so as I hit the dirt I stumbled forward a bit and fell straight into Lord Tywin’s arms. He gripped me firmly, holding just below my shoulders and helping me stand up straight.

“Are you alright?” he asked, making sure I hadn’t accidentally messed up an ankle or something. I looked up at him, swallowing and then nodding in response to his question. He let go of me then, moving over to his horse and removing a cloak from his saddlebag. “Here, you’re absolutely drenched. We’ll go to the inn down the road, the Red Keep is too far for us to get to in this weather. I’m certain at least one soldier will give up his room for the right amount of gold.”

Lord Tywin wrapped the thing around me, rubbing my arms to warm me up and then placing the hood over my head. I had only now realized that I was shivering. He directed me over to my horse, helping me on before mounting his own animal.

He looked at me once more, trying to make sure that I intended to follow him. When I gave him a nod, he spurred his horse and instantly started toward the nearby road. I started after him, eager to get anywhere that wasn’t outside in this wretched rain.

After about five minutes of hard riding, we thankfully came across the inn that he intended to stay in for the night. It suddenly hit me that Tywin Lannister intended to sleep here. I supposed there were a few nicer rooms, but still, it was hardly comparable to anything in the Red Keep or at Casterly Rock. Then again, he’d had no problem spending the night outside before.

I watched him approach a post then, dismounting and tying his horse to it. I did the same, though I was shivering so aggressively that it took me a moment to actually knot the reins. Lord Tywin was waiting for me, and I could see in his eyes that he was concerned for my health. I was certain it would be fine, I just needed to get warm. Now all that was left to do was pray that Lord Tywin and I could acquire two rooms, though somehow, I had a dreadful feeling that we’d end up stuck in one.

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#tywin lannister x reader #tywin imagine #tywin lannister #house lannister #tywin x reader #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #asoiaf #a lion in the garden

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cherryxcadbury · 1 year

Note

Idk if you write for TAA but I thought in which you’re famous maybe like a writer or idk. Not model or singer, something different because people are delighted that he didn’t choose a “fake” girl, because you’re smart and show in his games every time you can.

this is my oldest request, from almost a year ago. apologies anon.

y/n-your name

2nd person pov

Post match meant time to celebrate and relax. Usually anyways.

It was Sunday, the day after the champions league final, where Liverpool had lost to Real Madrid.

Since then, all the WAGs, players, and coaching staff had made it home from Paris.

And currently, a smaller group of you were gathered around the sitting room of the Van Dijk’s home. Virgil and his wife Rike, stood ready to get whatever anyone needed as hosts.

Captain Jordan Henderson & his wife Rebecca were seated, squished on a small seat.

Andy Robertson, your boyfriend’s best friend was on the floor with a beer in hand, with his wife Rachel seated right behind him on a chair.

As for you and Trent, you two were seated on a slightly smaller sofa, squished, but content.

Usually Mo and his wife, who you’d spent lots of time talking to, managed to find time to come to these gatherings but their daughter had fallen ill.

“I just dunno how the fans will receive us.” Jordan confessed, with his head in his hands.

“If I were a fan I’d want to physically assault myself after yesterday.” Andy groaned.

“I fucked up bad.” Trent mumbled into your ear.

You lightly slapped his knee, telling him not to think such thoughts.

“Heads up guys. We win as a team, we lose as a team.” Virgil comforted everyone.

“You lot have got the FA cup parade tomorrow. That’s something to look forward to.” Rachel brought up, trying to add cheer to the conversation.

“Not the same as a champions league trophy.” Trent groaned.

Rebecca stood up, beckoning Rike & Virgil to sit down.

“We need to change the topic guys. If we keep talking about the defeat you guys are going to moping all the way until next season and into the World Cup.” She suggested.

“So change of topic anyone?” Andy asked, taking another swig of his beer.

“How about that Y/N’s latest book has just won a Pulitzer Prize.” Trent offered the newest bit of information.

You whipped your head in his direction. You hadn’t thought that he’d remember or had even noticed with all of the matches and finals going on.

When your eyes met Trent’s, all you could see in his face was pure love and joy.

“I’m so so proud of you.” He said into your ear.

Your heart swelled with happiness. You felt on top of cloud nine despite yesterday’s events in Paris.

“Y/N that’s amazing!” Virgil exclaimed.

“Was it Life as We Know it?” Rachel asked, referring to the novel of yours which had been an international success in the last year.

You nodded, “Yeah that was it.”

“I need to tell the team.” Jordan got out his phone and started texting rapidly.

You blushed, these very public gestures always made you feel shy. Shy but appreciated.

“This calls for a toast. Let me help with the drinks.” Rebecca, Rike, and Virgil made their ways to the kitchen to get some more wine and beer.

“WOOOO Y/N IS THE BEST WRITER EVER!” Andy’s hands shot up in the air and he started dancing around.

You and Trent looked over at each other. You tried to hide your laughter by snuggling into his chest, but it was impossible.

Andy was Andy. The loud, hilarious Scotsman.

*** “A toast. To Y/N. For making our dark days, brighten with some light.” Trent raised his glass, as the others followed.

You did the same, giving everyone a grateful smile, especially Trent.

You looked at everyone around you, they were happy yes. But as you squinted further you could still see the sad looks in their eyes. The stinging pain of the loss didn’t just go away like that.

“Thank you guys. I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s okay to feel bad for yourselves you know. A champions league final is a big thing. You can’t just get over it in less than twenty four hours. Don’t let me be the reason you have to suppress your emotions.” You told them honestly.

“The channels did say that you guys had quite a few things you needed to work on.” Rike responded.

“The different in caliber between us and Madrid was incredibly large.” Jordan agreed.

“Let’s hear them then.” Trent started.

“Y/N. You go first. You always have the best insight and you never share it with anyone except us.” Rachel began, gesturing to her, Rike, and Rebecca.

Trent shared a knowing smile with you. He knew how analytical you were. How easy it was for you to immediately spot the flaw in the lineup and what’s substitutions needed to be made.

“Well,” You sighed.

This wasn’t going to be easy. There was a lot.

“Your defense was lacking for the majority of the match. When they finally stepped up, it was too late. You guys didn’t press enough until the match was basically over. And essentially, you let yourself be outplayed. It didn’t help that Courtois was a wall of steal either.” You explained.

“You have a good back line for the most part. Just need to strengthen the weak areas, like tracking back. And as for up front, you need to work on converting those shots.” You finished.

“This is better insight than what Klopp gave us yesterday.” Jordan murmured.

“I’m texting everything you said to him right now. Thank you so much YN.” Virgil smiled, his thumbs rapidly moving on his smartphone screen.

Trent drew close to you and pressed a kiss against your cheek.

“My beautiful, intelligent girl. I’m so so lucky to have you.” He whispered into your ear.

“Thank you for mentioning the Pulitzer Prize. I thought you’d forgotten to be honest.” You confessed.

He rested his forehead against yours.

“You’re too incredible for me to forget anything about you. You’re on my mind every second of everyday.” Trent smiled at you.

“You guys are gross.” Andy furrowed his eyebrows at you and Trent, a small smile playing on his lips.

this is a bit of a mess. thank you for bearing w me

#trent alexander arnold #taa #alexander arnold #taa imagine #Trent Alexander Arnold imagine #Trent Alexander Arnold imagines #Trent Alexander Arnold fanfic #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #Trent x reader #trent imagine #liverpool #england nt #champions league #football imagines #virgil van dijk

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otherpeoplesheartachept-2 · 5 months

Text

day 1: A Record of You and I

A diary from the mid 1700s kept by a man named Simon Snow, a farmhand for the Grimm estate. He records the death and the subsequent vampiric transformation of his close friend, and heir to the Grimm estate, Basilton Grimm.

Rating: M

Length: 4,321

Warnings: main character death/undeath. non-graphic (maybe slightly graphic) depictions of violence/blood, mentions of animal death, implied sex

Read on AO3 or below the cut

September 3rd 1742

I've never had a journal before but Basilton tells me it will help with my reading and writing. He's taught me all my letters and wants me to practice on my own now. He says he’ll continue reading to me if I like. He’ll keep helping me with handwriting too, but Basilton insists that having a personal record will do me good. Even so, I do not know what to record. Though I must not waste this lovely gift. Basilton says to write about my day, my thoughts. He must have more thoughts within him than I, for I am already out of things to say, and Basilton adds to his journal at all hours of the day.

September 6th 1742

Today I milked the cows and took them out in the field to graze. I ate fresh bread with a lot of butter. I did some other chores. It is late. I do not wish to write more.

September 7th 1742

Today I had porridge for breakfast, and some tasty stew Ebb made for supper. Charlie, the cattle dog, found a new favorite stick out in the pasture today, he hasn't stopped chewing it since this morning.

September 8th 1742

I hope Basil will forgive me for my short entries. It's not as if he’ll read what I put down here. Personal journals are to be personal, he tells me. So I’m just meant to speak to myself? I will keep at it, if only to gain more surety in my handwriting.

September 9th 1742

It is Sunday, I went to Mass. Basilton came to the cabin after the service. Brought me some scones Vera made. Sir Grimm does not approve of his son spending so much time with a farmhand, Basilton told me of another scolding he got earlier this week. I do not know why he spends time with me, against his father’s wishes, but I will not stop him. We ate lunch together. I enjoyed the food, and the company more. Basilton would call me a liar if he read that, my love of scones is rarely bested by anything, but Basilton is a good friend to me.

Everything feels so easy with Basil. He can make me laugh no matter what, even when he's poking fun at me. We talked for hours yesterday, and he listened when I spoke about my days, my observations of the cattle. Basil worries I work too hard, but I don't do much really, and I enjoy the labor. Besides, what else am I to do with my time? We discussed a poem Basil had read to me a few weeks ago. I am not usually one for poetry, but Basilton speaks about poems in a way that makes sense to me. I thought him unbearably arrogant when I first started working for his family, speaking of literature constantly and looking down his big nose at me. He still is arrogant at times, but now that we are friends I know he is also kind and caring and truly intelligent. He speaks of his sisters often, and how he worries he won’t meet his father’s expectations. He remains unmarried and this troubles Sir Grimm.

But Basilton has land to inherit and good social standing. He has many admirable qualities, and it goes without saying that he is handsome. He should have no trouble finding a wife. I said this to Basilton today but he became uncomfortable. Quickly, he brushed it off and picked up a new topic of conversation. This has happened before, I do not know if it’s the subject of marriage, or if he is too modest a man, but many times I have stated his good qualities, only for Basiton to blush and deny them, or leave the conversation.

September 20th 1742

I ate Turkey for supper yesterday. One of the bulls charged at me today because I looked at him wrong. Bastard. Gareth made me help him till the field today. Another bastard. He said he couldn’t get it done in time without help, despite the crops being his and his sons’ job, and the cattle being mine.

Went to the pub with Ebb, the goatherd yesterday. She told me a great joke about goats but I was drunk and can't remember it now. I might ask her to tell me it again.

September 22nd 1742

Today was an easy day, I fiddled with my carving knife while out in the field. Made a little wooden Charlie but when I showed it to him the blasted dog chewed it up. I tried to stop him but then I just laughed. I suppose I’m glad he found my carving nice enough to devour.

September 30th 1742

Basilton visited today. He brought me some of his books, said I could keep them, since I mentioned how much I liked the last one he read to me. I thanked him for the books, he is so kind to me. I do not know if I will ever read them though. Perhaps I should not have taken them. It’s not that I am ungrateful, I just didn’t know how to tell Basilton I mostly enjoy hearing his voice read to me, more than I care about the contents of the books. I am sad as this probably means he will not continue reading aloud to me.

October 1st 1742

I’ve not been writing as much as I feel I should. I fear my life is just not that interesting. Basilton tells me it’s plenty interesting. He’ll listen to my stories about cattle and Charlie without complaint. Gareth tells me my stories are boring though. “Who cares if a calf was born with a spot that looks just like a field mouse?” he said to me when I told that story at the pub last week. As if throwing seeds on the ground makes for great stories.

October 8th 1742

I found some poppies in the field, the first of the fall. I picked a couple of the red flowers. Gave them to Basil when he came round my cottage in the evening. He tried to resist them but I insisted. I told him it was repayment for the books he left with me. That wasn't all true, I just wanted to share the beauty of those little things with him. Basilton accepted the flowers then, I do hope he likes them. I cannot offer him much more, though I wish I had more to give to my friends.

October 10th 1742

I tried carving a flower out of wood but I cocked it up. I might try again with a thicker stick.

October 12th 1742

The cattle are well. The sun is shortening our days. I heard a bird song I did not recognize today, while out in the field. It was lovely. I must start saving up for a new winter coat, mine is threadbare and has not been keeping me warm enough as the world gets colder. Basilton tells me he’s going deer stalking with his cousins in a few days. He will be gone for at least a month. It will be their first hunt of the season.

October 15th 1742

Basilton left today. I tended to the cattle. I tried to brush off the sadness that seemed to hang over the day. Perhaps the cloudy days are affecting my mood, or the cold weather. I might just sleep early today.

October 30th 1742

He died. On that trip he

November 25th 1742

I went to Mass today. I sat alone. I tried to welcome the Holy Spirit but I feel so alone in this world. I grieve Basil every waking moment. I thought this would pass, it’s been nearly a month and still the wound is as fresh as the day I learned of his death. I’ve never had someone to lose before, like this. I loved him deeply, as if he were my own family I have come to realize. I find myself almost grateful that I did not know my parents, that I will not, one day, have to grieve them as well.

The Lord’s Day is the most painful, God forgive my soul for saying so. I cannot distract myself with work. I try to pray, but my mind wanders ever back to my lost friend. I grow tired of writing, but I will not put down this journal forever, Basilton wouldn't want me to.

November 27th 1742

I woke up this morning to something strange. I found one of the cows dead in the field. I hadn’t noticed any signs of sickness in the herd, but there were also no signs of an animal attack. There was no wound I could find, no blood. She looked strange, I cannot say why, though. It was as if something was missing, from beneath the skin. I told Sir Grimm, and the other farmhands, in case there is sickness in the herd. I’ll be keeping a closer watch on the cattle.

November 29th 1742

I visited Basilton’s grave this evening. It did me no good. I only felt the pain of loss much stronger standing there, reading his gravestone. It was as if there were a stake ran through my chest. I could hardly breathe through the sobs that came out of me. It was so strange, knowing Basilton was so close, only two meters or so below where I stood, and yet he was impossibly far.

It does me little good to dwell on these negative feelings.

November 30th 1742

I try to fill my days with actions. I inspect the cows twice, three times over, to check for any signs of decaying health. I pace the perimeter of the field while they graze. I help Gareth work the land when I should be resting. I chop enough firewood for this winter and the next two. I stay too long at the pub and drink more than I can afford. I imagine spots in my cabin that need cleaning, and I scrub and scrub and scrub until the pain in my hands is all that I can feel. And yet, I still ache for the companionship of Bailston. What am I to do with myself?

December 1st 1742

I cannot stop thinking of Basilton. Truly, I never stopped thinking of him, even when he was alive and with me. The Grimm family told us he was trampled by his own horse, fell off it while hunting. In quiet moments my mind creates imaginations of his last terrible moments. When I lay in bed, if I am not drunk as a lord, I cannot sleep for hours. I pray to God for a miracle, but my pleas are left unanswered. I know it to be foolish, but I cannot help myself. I would do anything for Basilton. Anything to see him again.

December 4th 1742

I do not want to write this, but I feel I must. I saw Basilton last night. I know, I know that he is dead, and God willing, he is at peace in heaven. But I came home from the pub late last night, crawled into bed, then, I saw Basil in my room, as if he were alive. He did not look ghostly, no, he looked as if he had new life coursing through him. His skin flush. His smile wide. There were no signs he had ever been dead.

I cried out, I could not help it. He came to me, to my bed. I sat up to meet him. And he held me. A hand pressed to my chest, the other wrapped around my back. His dark hair against my chin as he rested his face to my collar bone. We did not speak. I feared I would wake from the dream. And it must have been a dream.

I woke up this morning half expecting to see Basilton about the grounds, as if his death was a nightmare I could finally wake from. But he was not here, of course not. My mind has been so fixed on Basilton it only makes sense he would creep into my dreams.

December 5th 1742

It happened again, last night, I was not asleep this time. I was changing into my night clothes, when Basil appeared to me. I did not hear him come in. My candle cast his shadow against the wall. He must have been standing there as flesh and bone, not as a ghost or a vision. He wore regular clothes, not the burial shroud–made from his own family’s wool–that he was laid to rest in. He had on his purple vest with yellow embroidered flowers. It was one of his favorites, he told me years ago. Again he did not speak, but he touched my hand. He was so cool. a welcome feeling; I was so hot. I pulled him into an embrace. I whispered his name, I did not know what else I could do. I swear to God, he spoke my name in response.

Suddenly I felt so tired, so drained. Likely the day’s work catching up to me. I tried to fight the urge to sleep, but my eyes closed before I could watch Basilton leave, or say anything more to him.

December 6th 1742

Another cow, and one of the bulls have died, for the same mysterious reason as the first cow. The herd was restless yesterday, as if they could sense misfortune in the air, but I could not do anything to prevent their deaths. I do not even know what I need to be protecting them from.

I am worried, and unsettled.

December 8th 1742

The night before this last I stayed up, hoping to see my old friend again, though he never came. But last night I saw Basilton again. He spoke this time, only my name. My heart filled with joy to hear my friend’s deep voice call me Simon after I was sure we’d never be able to speak to each other again in this life. He sat beside me on the bed. I told him I had missed him. He placed a cool hand on my cheek, looked into my eyes. His were a familiar light grey, but he wore an expression I couldn't make sense of.

Then, he kissed me. I hesitate to write these words. He must be a sodomite. I have always heard such men are evil, but I could never think of Basilton that way. He's always been so lovely.

And the worst part is that I kissed him back. The best part is that I kissed him back. I have not kissed anyone before. He was so soft against my lips. So cool. His hand held my jaw, and his tongue pressed against my lips. An elation sprung up within me that I cannot describe. I held him tightly, wanting more than anything for this moment to last forever. I couldn’t help but think he should have done this sooner. We should have done this when Basil was still living.

Oh God! I weep remembering that he is dead.

Basilton kissed farther down my neck, across my collar bones, left kisses on my chest so hard they hurt. I did not stop him. He didn't go farther than my bosom, but-

I wanted him to. I felt as if under a spell, wrapped up in a world of pleasure balanced by the slightest pain. I wanted more, wanted all of him , but before I knew it I was awake, and alone, as the morning sun shown through my window.

I was slow in my work today. Gareth noticed, told me I should not be so lazy. My body betrays me, I feel so weak.

December 13th 1742

Basilton visits me nightly now. I welcome his touches, his hard kisses. I walk through my days now, dreaming of night.

The cows have begun to distrust me, they put up a fight when I try to milk them, and a few are no longer eating. I do not know why. Sir Grimm, despite having experience with livestock, seemed just as perplexed as I when I brought up the strange deaths and behaviors of his herd. Though, I know his mind is elsewhere, the mourning clothes he and Madam Grimm wear are a constant reminder of their loss.

I hear whispers at the pub of ghost sightings. I hear gossip from the house servants that the Grimm children wake up screaming in the nights now.

December 19th 1742

The weather gets worse. I feel frozen to the bone. My hands hurt daily. My work gets harder, as more animals under my care drop dead, and my strength seems to dwindle with each moment. The waking world has no joy, no pleasure left. But I go through each day, waiting for night. Only at night can I remember what happiness is. Basilton comes to me. He holds me, and we kiss for hours. Basil leaves marks and bruises on my skin but I welcome it. My hands praise the skin he uncovers for me. We commit sins I never knew could bring such pleasures.

December 20th 1742

I admit, I have not allowed myself to consider how or why Basilton appears to me alive, when I know he was laid in his grave two months ago. I just cannot think of it, I cannot search for reasons to distrust this gift I have. I may be a fool, or a doomed sodomite, but I cannot find it in me to fight what is happening. I cannot consider this to be anything but good or I might truly lose myself.

December 24th 1742

Last night was disturbing. Basilton came to my room as usual. We kissed, and lay together, and I felt so joyous, but quickly the tides turned. He pinned my naked body to the bed. He sat over me and tore at my flesh with his bare hands. I cried out but I could not stop him. Some dark part of me did not want to stop him. Basilton lapped up the blood that poured from my chest like a starved dog. The unGodly sight did things to me. As if possessed by something, I craved his bloodshed.

I do not know what is wrong with me.

I awoke with deep wounds on my chest. A mess of horror and lust arose within me as I touched the raised flesh, the dried blood. I know this is not natural, this is not holy. I should seek out a doctor, or a priest, but I can't stand the thought of losing my dear Basil again. I would open up a vein for him. I would tie our hearts together for eternity if it meant Basilton could be mine.

December 25th 1742

It is Christmas Day. A holiday that should be full of cheer. Basil once told me it was his favorite holiday, so it holds an extra special meaning for me. I wish he had been here, enjoying the day. I try not to be too sad, he will be here soon, arriving with the stars in the sky.

Ebb spent the day with me. I gave her a small wooden goat I carved. She does not say it but I know she misses her brother most around this time of year. I tried to be there for her, as I pretended not to notice the tears running down her red cheeks. But I found it hard to care. All my thoughts were consumed by anticipation for my next visit with Basilton. I know that is terrible. I tried to fight it, to focus on the friend I had with me at the moment, but I struggled. My mind, and my heart are trapped in a world with only Basilton and myself. A world no one else could understand.

December 26th 1742

Basilton attacked me again last night. My neck, chest, and stomach are covered in signs of his violent affection. Oh my dear God, I try to feel remorse, to summon disgust at our actions, but it is just not there within me. My mind is a haze of painful pleasure, my thoughts, along with my flesh and blood, fully consumed by Basilton. He is a fallen angel. He is a monster, and I must be one as well, but I have no will to change that.

I love him. I’ll love him no matter what we become.

I found more cattle dead this morning. Now nearly a third of the herd is gone. This time they have markings to match the wounds on my chest.

I told Ebb about the deaths, she told me a few goats have passed as well. I will tell the baronet tomorrow.

December 27th 1742

I went to tell Sir Grimm about the dead cows this morning.

In the manor I overheard the baronet and baronetess speaking of another attack last night. I stopped myself short of the doorway into Sir Grimm’s study. I stood in the hallway, slowing my breath to hear them through the door.

“Mordelia saw Basilton again last night. He hurt her, picked her up and left scratches on her back,” Daphne said to Malcolm. Sir Grimm stated he’s seen their son some nights as well. I became jealous upon hearing these words, at learning I was not the only one Basil is giving attention to. A foolish thought, of course he would want to see his family. But they spoke of him in fearful tones. They do not know my sweet Basil is only full of love.

“He is a vampire,” Sir Grimm said. I had to stop myself from crying out. Madam Grimm gasped, begged him no. Sir Grimm mumbled something comforting. “It must be done. He’s not our son anymore, Daphne, he is an evil creature.”

A vampire. The livestock dying, the frightened children, and my nightly visits from Basilton, all signs of a vampire. Dear God, Basil did not deserve such a fate!! I know what they will do to him: dig up his grave, stake his heart, cut off his head, and burn him to ashes.

He will be gone forever.

I cannot bear the thought!

I know now what I must do, and I must do it quickly.

Later on the 27th

Hastily, I have made my preparations. I could not risk Sir Grimm getting to Basilton first. I am prepared to go tonight.

December 28th 1742

I went to Basilton’s grave late last night. I was the only soul awake besides the owls. I brought along a lantern, a shovel, a small pack with all my coin and what few possessions I care to keep, and a small wheelbarrow I took from the barn. The light of my lantern guided me through the familiar trees and headstones, until I found the name Basilton Grimm carved into stone.

The rain poured down endlessly. The wet earth offered little resistance to my shovel, but digging was not quick work. The wind put out my lantern thrice. I gave up relighting, nothing would stop me. I had a singular purpose. I felt as if I’d been guided here, to this moment, to save my love.

After hours of labor, my shovel kissed the wood of a coffin, I nearly collapsed from relief, and exhaustion. Prying the lid from my Basil’s prison was harder than I had expected. Once I had it off, I threw it from the hole.

I wept. There was my dearest Basilton asleep in his coffin. I relit the lantern. I fell to my knees, sharing the cramped space with him. The light revealed a blood-stained mouth and burial shroud. His hair was a little longer, more lustrous than in life, his skin ruddy and plump. I worried I would find his face smashed, his body mangled from horses’ hooves, but he was unmarked and as beautiful as ever. His hands were free from his shroud, also bloody.

These are all signs of a vampire, but I could not care. I had to reach out to touch his cold flesh.

I had to kiss him.

My lips met his, and in that coffin, surrounded by earth, over the sound of the attacking rain, Basil softly moaned. I swear I heard it. I swear his lips moved against mine.

Elated with indescribable joy I tried to wake him more, desperate for proof he really was living. He did not open his eyes, or speak to me, or move. But when I pressed my ear to his chest I heard the drum of his heart beat steadily.

My sweet Basilton alive! Now that I have him, I will let no harm come to him. I will keep Basil safe from those who want to kill him again.

It is early morning now, the sun is just starting to peak over the land in the East. This will be my last entry. I shall leave my journal here, in my Basilton’s empty grave, in case anyone is searching for us. I care not who reads these words, they will not find us. I will be far away, with my love, finally happy.

(A note placed in the back of the journal)

Dearest Simon,

I hope this journal will be of use to you. I do believe keeping a journal will help you continue improving your literacy. And perhaps it will aid in other ways. I find it helps to have a private place for one's thoughts and feelings. My journals are a great comfort to me.

Beyond that, I must admit I do enjoy the thought that there will be a record of you and of I. That people may know who we were, and that we were good friends.

Yours truly,

Tyrannus Basilton Grimm

#carry on countdown 2023 #coc 2023 #carry on countdown #simon snow #baz pitch #vampire #blood #blood drinking #1700s au #simon snow pov #the simon snow series #carry on #the simon snow trilogy #fanfic #corascrap

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anotherkindofmindpod · 5 months

Note

Hello lovelies! I wanted to go back to another episode, Strange Bedfellows: Hiroshima Sky, and address a point raised in that episode. You all discussed Paul "bothering his dying wife" with the song credits switch issue, but I had the exact opposite impression. Here's Paul's quote to Anthony DeCurtis of Rolling Stone in 2001: "But this is why we don't have a great relationship. That, and the fact that Linda rang her during the height of her chemo shit and asked her, and Yoko said, 'That's never going to happen.'"

I do agree with your conclusion that Yoko was not obligated just because Linda was sick and I was pleased you both eventually allowed that Linda may have been offended on Paul's behalf, because that's what I think happened. Let me backup.

Earlier in that same Rolling Stone interview, Paul said, "So when the [Beatles] Anthology came out, after thirty years of always having John’s name in front, I thought it should say, ” ‘Yesterday,’ by Paul McCartney and John Lennon.' So I rang up and asked Yoko. This is when Linda and I were going through our real horror times. I rang Yoko up and said, 'Couldn’t I, on the Anthology, just on this one song, put my name in front? Could we put, ‘Written by Paul McCartney and John Lennon’? It would be a great favor to me.' Linda actually rang her and said, 'Do this as a favor.'"

"Yesterday" appears on Anthology 2, which was released on March 18 1996. According to Keith Badman, Anthology 2 was originally slated for release on February 26, 1996, supposedly due to a track re-ordering (moving "I'm Down") and thus making the original CD booklets obsolete and needing to be reprinted (Paul supposedly footed the bill for that). I have wondered if that delay for Anthology 2 was actually due to Paul wanting to change the song credits on "Yesterday," as he later described (or maybe the booklets had the credits switched on "Yesterday"and Paul had to pay to put them back!).

Paul told DeCurtis that he and Linda made the request "during our real horror times." Linda allegedly started an intensive chemotherapy regime in January 1996 (diagnosed with breast cancer in December 1995), just a month before Anthology 2 was originally due to be released, before being pushed back to March at the last minute. Due to that timeline, it's almost certain that the "Yesterday" credits request from Linda took place in January 1996.

Per Badman's Beatles Diary, Paul essentially stopped working during the year 1996 to care for Linda. He only made two public appearances, both in support of LIPA, and three brief recording sessions for Flaming Pie (separated by months-long gaps) in the entire year. He also did the final Anthology edit approvals and promotional interviews working from home, which was unusual for him at that time, and cancelled a few other work obligations that year.

Now we have the context that Paul and Linda made the "Yesterday" credits request at a terrible time in their lives. Paul seems to have taken offense less at Yoko's refusal and more at the way she did it, which he perceived as insulting to Linda when she was going through an awful time. Whether Linda asked Yoko independently of Paul because she was loyal or protective of him, or whether he knew beforehand and/or urged her to do it? We'll never know.

Yet if you go back to the statement Yoko made on Linda's death, Yoko wrote without elaboration, "The last conversation I had with her was in January this year [1998]." Now why would Linda and Yoko have spoken that January? Did Linda call Yoko, or vice versa? What else happened that month? Well, it so happens that Yoko's "Paul was Salieri/Paul made the phone calls" interview was broadcast in a BBC documentary on.....January 6, 1998.

Putting the speculative pieces together, here's my wild guess as to what happened. While working on the Anthology, Paul realized he wanted to have his name first on "Yesterday." What if Paul brought up the issue in the run up to the Anthology launch, not when Anthology 2 was to be released? Then right after Anthology 1 and the miniseries premiered to much success, Linda was diagnosed with cancer. Right after she started intensive chemo in January 1996, Linda asked Yoko to allow the credit switch as a personal favor to her. Maybe she knew it would give Paul a life preserver during that time, or she thought Paul was right, or some combination thereof, or whatever. Anyway, Yoko said no. Maybe Paul learned about that, was incensed, and tried to switch the credits on the Anthology 2 CD booklets anyway, causing the delay of the album's release.

Then, in January 1998, Yoko gave the Salieri interview with the hurtful comments which cut Paul deeply and Linda, who was always fiercely protective of Paul, became angry. According to friends, Linda was deeply concerned about Paul's emotional state during her illness, and I could see another perceived insult from Yoko sending her over the edge. So she called Yoko to confront her. Paul learned of that conversation (at the time? at some point later?) and, knowing how sick Linda was, became incredibly angry at Yoko in turn.

I think that everything during this time has to be looked at through the lens of Linda's illness. The credits issue, the flaming pie kerfuffle and finally the Salieri comments must have been seen by the McCartneys as Yoko throwing blows when they were at their lowest.

Thanks for all this, very thorough! We're delighted you enjoyed Strange Bedfellows. :) Thanks for listening and writing in.

#AKOM #Strange Bedfellows #credit reversal #Salieri-Mozart gate #Linda's illness #Anthology #Yesterday #Yoko Ono #Hiroshima Sky

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bratshaws · 1 year

Text

through the hourglass 106. brb x oc

a/n: I lost connection three times today. hate it a lot

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none.

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

50/51/52/53/54/55/56/57/58/59/60/61/62/63/64/65/66/67/68/69/70/71/72/73/74/75/76/77/78/79/80/81/82/83/84/85/86/87/88

/89/90/91/92/93/94/95/96/97/98/99/100/101/102/103/104/105

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

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@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

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Beatrice hums in her sleep, feeling lips gently trailing up her shoulder to her neck, she smiles with her eyes closed as she leans back against the hard chest she’s currently resting on. His arms tighten around her waist as his deep yet sleepy voice whispers in her ear, “Good morning, gorgeous.” he coos, kissing her earlobe, “Wake up.”

“Hmmmm…but I’m so comfortable…” she giggles sleepily while pushing her back to his front, earning a pleased grunt from him. She sighs after a few seconds, turning around to face him and smiling more when she sees his face looks so relaxed, “...how are you?”

He inhales,holding his head up with his hand as he looks down at her, his free thumb gently trailing the edge of her cheek, “I’m fine,gorgeous.” he smirks, “Couldn’t be better, honestly,I had a really good night of sleep.”

“Yeah?’

“Yeah.” his cheek flexes when he smirks, still brushing her face with his thumb, “No nightmares, no bad dreams, nothing of the sort. Just a very comfortable silence.”

“That’s really good,Roos.” she says, kissing his chin, right on top of the tiny scars he had there and grinning at his happy hum followed by his own lips touching her forehead, “Are you…going to talk to Mav?”

Surprisingly, her husband didn’t seem annoyed, nor angry at the mention of his uncle, in fact he just seemed relaxed, “Yeah…you know I had a long time to think.” he mutters, “Especially after yesterday…I…I don’t know,I’m hurt but at the same time, I can talk to Mav about it, he doesn’t want to hurt me anymore. He feels terrible for what he did.”

“...but?”

“But I can’t keep stuff like this inside anymore, so we have to have a conversation, man to man about how this cannot repeat itself.” he murmurs, “It also brought some perspective in certain things that pertain to Nikki.” his wife furrows her brows at him in confusion, “I…I don’t know I was scared if Nikki wanted to join the Navy,because I worry about her…but I can’t prevent her from doing so. She’s a baby now, but I just feel like I should keep that in mind…or even our other kids for that matter.”

Beatrice’s cheeks reddened at the mention of their still inexistent children, but she smiled at him, “Well, as long as you don’t beat yourself over it,Roos.” she says, snuggling closer to him, “But again, I’m glad you are feeling better, it was…a lot. I know it was.”

“I’m also…I forgave my mom.”

“You did?”

“Well,I think so.” he chuckles awkwardly, “She…just wanted to help me, it wasn’t the right way to do it, she could’ve explained it to me better and we would’ve come to a conclusion that’d help us both.” his smile drops, “But she didn’t…and I know she’d never want to hurt me. She just wanted the best for me, but in this case it wasn’t…I still think there’s stuff to be worked on inside, but I feel better.”

And that’s all that mattered for Beatrice. He looked better, he sounded better, his voice wasn’t heavy and grating like yesterday, and he slept nicely…what more should she ask for? And he was planning on talking to Pete!

So that was a great way to start their morning!

Beatrice smiles, pushing herself to her knees - which in turn makes Bradley lie fully on his back and kick the covers off himself because he knew what was coming - before climbing on his lap and folding her arms on top of his chest, propping her chin on top with a little grin, “I’m so happy to hear that,Roos.” she whispered, “You have no idea how happy I am.”

“I’m happy too,gorgeous.” he smiles, his hands trailing up her bare thighs until they reached the elastic of her lace panties. He taps the tips of his fingers against the flower shaped lace with a playful squint of his eyes, “Blue?”

“Close.” she grins, “One more try.”

“...hmmm…” he taps it a bit more, “Light blue.”

“Very good,Lieutenant. You are very correct.” she smiles at him, kissing his lips sweetly as she feels his hands cup each of her asscheeks with gusto, squeezing them just enough to make her sigh happily, “What are you feeling like having for breakfast?”

“Hmm…I don’t know.” he mutters, “Anything, maybe something lighter since we had chilli last night?”

“Yogurt?”

“Yeah,sounds good.”

Beatrice smiles more,kissing his lips quickly, “Will do that,I have to get up anyway,I’m going to meet Marcus before lunch to discuss some things about the launching party.” she says, sitting on his lap and smirking when he huffs out a groan, tilting his hips upwards to grind against her ever so slightly, “Brad…”

“Can’t help it.”

Her eyeroll was the only response he got, “Anyway, I’m going to meet him, then I’m going to go to the bar really quick, then me and Nikki will just be here enjoying ourselves until you get back home then you’ll take me ot the Hard Deck and we’ll leave Nikki with my parents.” he pouts a bit at that, “Unless you want to spend time with Nikki tonight?”

“I mean…” he half shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind it if I did.”

Beatrice giggles, kissing him again and slowly sliding off his lap - enough to make her husband latch onto her thighs for dear life, hoping she stayed - “I can do that.” she backs away from their bedroom with her head tilted, “And then we can talk more later,right?”

“Talk or…talk?”

Beatrice doesn’t reply, she just smiles more and then finally disappears from his view, something that only makes Bradley sit up on the bed and smirk at her disappearing form. He scoots to the edge of the bed to rub his face off any sleep, dropping his hands between his legs and interlacing them as he looks towards the window still covered by the blackout curtains.

There’s a sliver of light peeking in, it was faint, but good enough to let him know the sun was slowly rising from the horizon. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to have a good night’s sleep after yesterday, but he did…he did and he felt great too. He wasn’t lying when he told Beatrice about his own thoughts or about how he felt about his mother and Pete.

He knew he had a lot to work on, but he also knew there was a lot he could slowly let go now.

Bradley inhales, rubbing his face again before pushing himself to his feet to his morning shower. He smiles at his folded uniform with a neon sticky note on top, plucking it off the fabric.

“I’m sticking with you.” he chuckles, looking at the little bottle of glue she drew below the sentence, with a smiley face that only made his heart feel lighter. He kisses the little note, setting aside so he could save it up just like the others.

He hears Beatrice downstairs talking to the dogs, even when he’s in the shower with the water hitting his skin. He also hears her footsteps approaching the fogged glass, “Roos.’ she calls quietly, gently prying the door open and trying her best to keep her eyes on his face, much for his absolute amusement.

“Yes,gorgeous?”

“I just wanted to ask if there’s anything special you want in your yogurt bowl? We have some frozen berries that I use for Nikki’s snacks.” she smiles, “Like raspberries, blueberries and so on. Oh! And maybe some toast?”

Bradley stops rubbing his shoulders to give her a smirk, “Is that the only reason why you came up?” he questions, tilting his head - a wet strand of hair curling on his forehead and making him appear like an old fashioned heartthrob - “Because you never questioned about that when I was in here.”

Beatrice’s face turns red, like she got caught, “I um…well.” she laughs nervously, “I just…wanted to make sure.” she chews her lower lip “I-I honestly just wanted to check on you.”

“Did you?”

“Yeah.” she says before disappearing from his view, he could see her silhouette moving around the bathroom for a bit, setting some stuff aside and opening a few drawers, “By the way,I left your gift in the bedroom, if you want to see it now.”

“Gift…?Oh!” he remembers he just didn’t care much for it when she showed it to him, feeling a bit guilty by how he acted, “Thank you,gorgeous.I really appreciate it,I’m sorry for yesterday I–”

‘It’s okay! It’s really okay!” she waves her hands disarmingly from the outside, popping her head into the shower one final time to grin at him, “You are okay,Roos,don’t worry.” he smiles back at her, wiping his face the best he could to lean down and kiss her lips, “Hm! Rooster!” she backs away when she feels his tongue gently swipe her lower lip, “We don’t have time for this.”

“We don’t?”

“No.” she giggles,”Some other day,maybe. But now I have to check on Nikki. And on our breakfast…and on other stuff, oh and feed the dogs!” she rambles off, shutting the shower door to walk away in a hurry, much to her husband’s complete adoring amusement.

And honestly, it didn’t take too long for him to get out of the shower.

He just needed to ease his mind before he did get out, dressing up and placing the note inside his pocket just like the other times she did that, walking out of the bedroom to hear Nicole’s happy babbling from downstairs.

The dogs all surrounded him once they heard him coming down the stairs, Jack almost wrapping himself around Rooster’s legs - if he didn’t have quick reflexes he’d topple over the brown and white dog by the way he was clinging to him. He also held the gift above his head when Eleanor tried to snatch a bite, whatever it was it was appetizing enough for her to think it was a treat.

Bradley’s eyes met Nicole’s, who was holding onto Beatrice’s shoulder as her mother poured some coffee into their respective mugs, “Hi Birdie!” he coos, making Nicole’s gummy smile widen and her happy gasping hit his ears, “My baby girl! Hi! You look so nice with your little pink onesie with tiny flamingos on it!” he approaches the two to kiss Nicole’s forehead and Beatrice’s scalp,” Hi gorgeous.”

“Hi.” she smiles, turning around to kiss his lips and then stare at their baby daughter, “She was waiting for you.”

‘Was she?” he gasps playfully, gently picking Nicole from Beatrice’s hold to keep her close to his chest, kissing her cherub cheeks gently, “My little birdie, you miss us so much and you live with us.”

“Buh bbbuuh dada!”

“Right, yes, of course,I didn’t consider that.”

Nicole’s eyes darted to the gift he had in his hand, the amber paper immediately calling her attention, and the fact it was shiny and made crinkly noises. She reaches towards it but obviously her father’s arm is much longer than hers was, “Yeah,mommy gave this to me.” he lifts it up so it’s within touching distance from his baby daughter, who just slaps her tiny palm against the paper to create another satisfying crunching sound, “Want to open it with me?”

“Aaa!”

“That’s a yes.” Beatrice smiles, placing his mug on the kitchen table, “I’m finishing everything up, you can sit down.”

Bradley does, keeping Nicole on his lap as he places the gift in front of him, gently pulling the ends of the golden ribbon that kept it closed, “Here,Nikki,” he grabs her minuscule hand with his own, using it to grip the other end of the ribbon and pulling it, his daughter thought that was the most amazing thing she had ever seen if the look on her face was any indication.

It was amazing how babies found the simplest things incredible, because Nicole’s eyes were wide open and focused on what was being revealed, “Ohhhh,” he gasps again, “It’s an aftershave lotion for daddy,” he holds up the box, the dark blue and gold made it appear so expensive he almost felt bad about Beatrice giving it to him, “This is a nice package.”

“Yeah, the girl at the store suggested this one…because…well, she said you’d like it.”

“Does she know us?” he asks while ripping the tape that kept it closed with the brute force of his thumb and nothing else, peeking inside once it popped open, “Or me?”

“Well…no…but um.” Beatrice licks her lips, “She’s like my aunt Martha.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know…mysterious, kinda…says weird stuff,” Beatrice murmurs, “She uh,said your sould would like the smell.”

He blinked, then chuckled since he didn’t know what else to say, “Well,we’ll see, it’s really nice.” it was a dark bottle with a golden cap, “Moisturizer, hydrating after shave lotion with hints of wild vanilla and lemon rinds, interesting.” he smirks, popping the cap open to sniff it.

He frowns a bit, pulling back then checking the label, “...hold on.”

“What?”

“This,” he brings it up to his nose again, “This smell…” he sniffs more, “It…reminds me of…my dad’s aftershave.”

“...really?”

“I mean I could be very wrong, it’s been years but, my mom used to buy some of his colognes and keep in the house for…memory keeping. You know?” he smiles while bringing it to his nose, “This is…amazing,Bea, thank you.”

Beatrice, who only bought that because the smell was nice and who had no idea that Rooster’s father liked that sort of scent could only smile shyly at him, “Well…I-I’m really happy you like it.” and from the look in his eyes he appreciated it more than she could ever imagine.

Anything that reminded him of his father was always very welcome.

Nicole, who had no idea what was going on, just tried to grab the fancy looking bottle because it was shiny and nice to look at. She only managed to tap her tiny fingers against the surface, and then complain when her father put it aside to hold her closer against his chest, “No,no,Birdie, there’s stuff in there that I don’t know if you’ll be able to…touch, it’s adult stuff.” he kisses the top of her head and sighs softly, which calls Beatrice’s attention when she approaches the table with their breakfast in tow.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just…thinking…”

“About what happened?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, furrowing his brows a bit, “You know…I…I was so angry for so long.” he murmurs, “And I think it covered up how hurt I actually was. I felt really…betrayed and confused, it was more hurt than anything else. But the anger is easier to handle than hurt is,huh?”

“Sometimes.” Bea says gently, sitting next to him and bringing her mug to her lips, “Sometimes it’s…what can be done.”

“Hm.” he purses his lips, furrowing his brows even more, “It’s a shitty feeling. Were you ever angry? When you…well-”

“Back in school?” Beatrice adds it to him, since he was having difficulties finishing his words, “I…I don’t know,Roos. I think so, maybe, but I never felt my anger was ‘good enough’ to handle the bullying. You know I don’t like conflict,in fact I hate it, and if I did something in the school it’d bring my parents and my siblings into the mix. I couldn’t be angry when I was trying to survive per se, it’d only make it worse.”

Sometimes Bradley noticed how different yet connected their lives were.

Both suffered in different ways and he’d never say Beatrice’s struggles were less than his, she lost someone too, her nonna. Who, by her own words, was the only one who got her when she was still alive.

He knew that Beatrice was strong, maybe the strongest of the two of them because she could express her feelings way better than he could. And yet she could listen to him and tell him everything was fine in the same breath, “But you know, it’s how it is.” she breaks his line of thought, her green eyes distant “You gotta know the animals within the jungle or else you’ll get eaten.” and she blinked, shaking her head, “Anyway, enough about me…I just think that, well, like I said before, you were a teenager Roos and you had…a lot in your mind for a long time.”

“Yeah.”

‘And…you know, things happen and people…come and go.” she says softly, “I know you are nervous about talking to Mav again, even if you said you aren’t.”

“I’m a little bit.”

“You know he loves you.” she whispers, “You are his nephew and godson. And you are also the only family he has left, you know he’ll do whatever he can to help you out.”

“Yeah.”

Beatrice scoots her chair closer, placing her cheek to his shoulder and smiling at Nicole when she reached her hand to Beatrice’s lips, her mother kissed her tiny fingers, “And you know he loves that he also has Nikki.” she whispers, “...you know he wants the best for you, he really does. And he wants to be there for everyone.”

“I know.” he says softly, looking down at Nicole, “...I want him to be here too.”

“Then you know what to do,right?”

“Yeah..” he grins, “Yeah,I do.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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sebastianstansqueen · 1 year

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Where Do We Go from Here 3

A/N: Sorry for not posting yesterday, I when to see Wakanda Forever and didn't have much time before the movie to post , if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,294

Warnings: Angst, Bucky being a dick, slight sexual themes nothing to big, think that is all actually

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// Spotify Playlist

Tags: @cherryblossomsky - - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2writes - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @elizacusi-blog - @valhalla-kristin - @chloe-skywalker - @foulpersonahandsvoid -@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

Bucky’s father had told him that he had to propose soon, and so he set up a family party inviting lots of people, friends of his and friends of hers along with some of her colleagues, and her secretary he owed her an apology. So he went out buying a ring for her and he was making it as real as possible, it was rose gold with white diamonds decorating it.

He had some business he had to attend to before anything that night happened, when he walked into his home he was bombarded by Steve and his men. “What the fuck do you mean Pierce and his men interrupted a shipment?” He asked with irritation.

“That’s what I said when he told me.” Steve spoke up.

Bucky huffed. “Fucking figure it out, I don’t want to be stressed for tonight alright, well I’m already stressed, but I don’t need more so you two figure it out.”

Later that day, Bucky got dressed up in a nice suit, the collar covered the tattoo along his neck, he got into his car and drove off to the party. Once there he talked with Sam, then Y/n’s father came up to him. “I assume you talked to her, after the very angry phone call I got about you not towards me.” Henry asked.

“I did, she agreed.” He said shortly.

Henry rolled his eyes. “You're ruining your marriage before it even begins. I was hoping my daughter would have better but I assumed wrong.” Henry walked away.

Soon after Y/n showed up to the party wearing a gorgeous dress, and she was brought to his side by the many daughters, and wifes of the families. She started to ramble at his side. gh your body, but you were rushed to Bucky’s side immediately by people whom you didn’t know. “I told everyone at my work that I will no long-”

She was cut off by a man and as he walked up and spoke to Y/n, Bucky felt himself grow defensive like he wanted to impress her, the man, Lucus, walked away. “Who was that?”

“My assistant.” She stated.

“Well you two seem close.” He couldn’t believe how he sounded .

Y/n smirked. “If it weren't for the fact of you hating me, I’d say you were jealous, he’s a great guy, but um too blond, and gay, so I’ll settle on the fact of you having to be my fiance.”

Bucky nodded. “So uh how was work?”

“It was a normal day, I told everyone I will be leaving soon.” Y/n’s voice lowered, sounding sad. Bucky was about to apologize to her when his father came by and quickly whispered something to him. Bucky pulled everyone's attention to him and Y/n.

You walked into your office a few days later having come up with a plan, you told your secretary to arrange a meeting with the whole main staff and lead lawyers. You sat at the table and many people had questions about why they were called into the meeting room for major cases. “Mis. Y/l/n.” Your secretary got your attention. “Who was the guy who was here the other day asking for you? He claimed that he was ‘Practically your fiance’.” She asked.

“Yes he practically is, but that's not what I’m here to talk about that, well sort of, he is a stubborn ass and I don’t really have a choice, he had some stupid requierments, and I can’t be working, but I’m not going to just leave, I will be managing everything from a computer.” You explained. “So I will be here but I won’t, any conversations you need to have will be through text or skype.”

“When will this procedure become effective?” One of your employees asked you.

You sighed. “I don’t know yet, but as soon as I do I will let you all know, but it could be soon or a year from now we'll see.” You shrugged. “I want you all to proceed as if nothing is going to change. I haven't worked for all of this for nothing.”

“Mis. Y/l/n, how will you be handling cases?” One of the lawyers asked.

“Through the call and the day of court I will be there, no matter what I am accountable for my plaintiff’s.” You answered. “Anything else I need to cover?” You were met with silence. “Good I will speak with you all another time.”

That evening you went home and got ready for another party that evening, this time your dad notified you to wear something a little nicer than a normal party. This made you a bit more suspicious. But you put on a black lace dress with a nude underline with a slit, along with nude heels, you did your make up and curled your hair, then headed out, to the party. You drove to the place and you headed to your childhood home where the party was taking place. Once you got there you walked in with your head held high, and confidence flowed through your body, but you were rushed to Bucky’s side immediately by people whom you didn’t know. “I told everyone at my work that I will no long-” You were cut off by your assistant.

“Mis. Y/l/n.” He smiled.

“Lucus.” You smiled bringing him in for a hug. “W-why couldn’t you make it in today but came to this and why are you here?” You asked with shock.

“Well earlier I had a family thing I had to be at, I’m sorry, un Lindsy will catch me up.” He shrugged off, then kissed you on the cheek, before walking away.

“Who was that?” Bucky questioned.

You looked at him. “My assistant.”

“Well you two seem close.” Bucky said stiffly, almost in a disappointed tone.

You laughed dryly. “. “If it weren't for the fact of you hating me, I’d say you were jealous, he’s a great guy, but um too blond, and gay, so I’ll settle on the fact of you having to be my fiance.”

Bucky tucked his hands in his pockets. “So uh how was work?”

Your good mood dampened at his question.“It was a normal day, I told everyone I will be leaving soon.” But then George Barnes passed and Bucky was back to being Bucky and got it so everyone's attention was on both of you, your brows furrowed, at the sudden change in mood.

“Thank you everyone for coming here today for a celebration of I and Y/n.” Bucky spoke to everyone at once. “And so I think I should be getting on with the reason you're here.” Bucky turned to you. “Y/n- Y/m/n- Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?” He kneeled down and pulled out a gorgeous ring.

You fained surprise. “Yes.” You smiled, Bucky stood up and wrapped you in a hug around your waist so you wrapped your arms around his neck, people took photos of the both of you.

Later after what felt like everyone at the party congratulated you, you turned to Bucky. “Why didn’t you give me at least a warning?” You asked.

“Because I found out yesterday and I was a little bit busy Y/n.” He argued with you.

You shook your head. “You're so selfish.” His lips pierced, he led you away. “I’m not fucking selfish.” He said in a rough tone.

You felt yourself grow wet at the fact of his hand around your throat, but you weren’t going to show the effect he had on you. “Get.Your.Hand. Away from my throat, I’ll see you when you come up with more of your fucking demands I guess or at the Wedding practise dinner.” You walked away to leave the party.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader mob au #mob au bucky x reader #mob!bucky x reader #mafia bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia bucky x reader #mafia!bucky

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