#a cup of Jonah's good for my soul
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Long requested Bella in her period again + Vince caretaker!
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"Looking good, Bells," Vince teased her, as Bella stumbled into the kitchen of the cabin, with her hair sticking out everywhere and more than a little pale.
He was making pancakes, while Wendy was sitting on the counter, sipping on her coffee. The other woman opened a sympathetic smile, "hungover?" she guessed and Bella only groaned in return.
In truth, it was not hangover, but her period. Her period was never regular, sometimes coming early, sometimes skipping a month, so Bella had been praying it wouldn't land smack in the middle of their getaway weekend. No such luck and Bella had been woken up in the middle of the night by it.
She felt horrid.
Like there was someone squeezing her lower belly, the waves of pain running down her legs and punching her lower back. Her stomach felt off as well and the smell of Vince's blueberry pancakes made it churn uneasily.
"Bacon or pancakes?" He asked, feeding Wendy a raspberry that was sticking out his pinky. Bella stared at them, unimpressed by the display of affection and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed. It was pointless, lying in bed only made her focus more on the pain.
"Nothing, my stomach is iffy," she shook her head and groaned loudly as she heard Vince chuckle at her expense.
"That's what you get for trying to keep up with me, Bell."
"Fuck off," Bella groaned, her cheeks heating up at the friendly teasing. She knew she could shut it down by simply explaining she wasn't hungover, but just the thought was embarrassing enough.
Instead, she lowered her head to the main dining room table and wrapped her arms around her tummy, silently praying Luke would be up soon and go get her some meds, because of course she had packed tampons but not medicine. Of course.
Currently her husband was starfished on the bed, snoring, completely passed out after recklessly mixing wine and his meds.
"Morning," Jonah said, walking into the kitchen. Unlike everyone else, he was dressed for the day, not a curl out of place and Bella all but groaned at the sight. Couldn't he be in pajamas and with morning breath like everyone else?
"Hi," Wendy perked up at his sight, "you just missed Leo, he went for a run."
"Oh no, I didn't miss Leo," Jonah said in a cheeky voice, causing Vince to let out an scandalize shriek at the implication and Wendy to cackle.
"Oh shut up!" She laughed and Bella groaned at the loud noise, feeling overwhelmed by it all. She had an annoying headache, but nothing big. Not as bad as the fact she was starting to feel soul crushing sad and ready to cry for no reason whatsoever.
"You're all bark and no bite," Vince scoffed, his voice coming closer and then he said, "here, get some carbs in you," and planted a plate of plain pancakes in front of Bella, a couple inches away from where she was resting her cheek on the table, breathing through her mouth and trying to ignore them.
The smell immediately hit her and Bella let out a groan as her stomach revolted. She sat up straight and pushed the plate away, but now that she had smelled it, she couldn't get rid of it.
Her stomach gurgled, unhappy, and so did her intestines and Bella pushed against the table, darting up as she could feel her body crossing the threshold of "queasiness" and going straight to "gonna barf" territory.
Darting up was a choice, because she got lightheaded at moving so fast, feeling all the blood rush down as if she had wet herself, which obviously she hadn't because she had just checked her tampon...
Bella fell back down against the wooden bench and dizzily grabbed the front of Vince's ratty pj shirt, squeezing it with all her force.
"Hey-" Vince's gigantic hands came to cup her cheek, the other one brushing the hair away from her face, "hangover's kicking your ass, uh?" he tilted her head back, "just give it a second, Bells."
"No-" Bella grabbed his wrist, pushing his hand away from her face, feeling her mouth all sticky, "gonna hurl."
"Ah, for fuck's sake, Bella," Jonah groaned, "I'm eating-"
Her body gave a grand total of zero fucks about Jon's breakfast. The thought of what he was eating - bacon and eggs - had Bella's stomach squeezing once more and she gagged fruitlessly, planting a hand over her lips and grabbing on Vince's shoulder to push herself up once more.
"I got you, c'mere-" Vince wrapped an arm around her waist and then her feet were off the floor, as he manhandled her like a ragdoll. Bella gagged once more and missed the toilet entirely, going for the sink of the small bathroom Vin pushed her inside of.
Her legs felt weak and she let out a whimper as bitter bile and thick wine splashed in the sink's basin. Bella hung over it, whining as she felt Vince hold her hair back and pat her arm, "do you have a scrunchie?"
Bell shook her head and he sighed, wrapping the hair around itself and tying it in a loose knot on the base of her neck, "this will do for now- Feeling better?" he was whispering, but there was really no concern in his voice, all amusement, "how's the head?"
"I'm not-" Bella groaned, then opened the register and washed the sink and her mouth, "not hungover..." she took a gulp of water and regretted it immediately, as the sip landed like a brick in her belly, bringing up an acidic, airy burp that tickled her nose.
Her intestines let out an upset noise and Bell squeezed her eyes in sheer humiliation as Vince said, "was that your belly?"
"God- Get out of here," the urgency made her feel all clammy, head woozy still, "go- get out, Vince-" she shoved him by the arm and barely caught sight as Vince's amused smile slipped and turned into a worried frown, before she slammed the bathroom door on his face and rushed for the toilet.
Having the runs made her stomach turn once more and Bella lunged for the trashcan, planting it on her lap and coughing over it, biting back the urge to cry. She wanted her house.
Her old, bleach stained sweatpants that didn't squeeze her tummy, her heating pad. Maybe Lucas too.
Once she was done and cleared up, Bella sluggishly walked to the door, the fierce cramps making everything so much worse. She was trembling.
She had hoped they had all left for the trail, but instead Vince was leaning on the wall right next to the bathroom door, like a bodyguard. Just the humiliating thought he had probably overheard all of her body noises made Bella's eyes tear up and he promptly misinterpreted it, walking forward to wrap her in a hug.
"Hey... What's wrong? Bell, why are you crying?"
"Leave me'alone-" she whined, but despite her words, Bella clung to him. He was so soft and warm, practically a human heating pad. Vince scoffed, walking backwards into the living room, not daring to break the hug either.
"Do you want me to get Luke? Can you tell me what's wrong?" all worried, sitting down on the couch and pulling her with him.
Bella sniffled, curling up on his side and angrily wiping the tears that hadn't fallen, but were clinging to her lashes, "I'm fine-"
"They left, Bell," Vince rolled his eye, reading right through her, "talk with me, what's wrong?"
She freaking loved this guy, Bella thought, relief washing over her and causing new stubborn tears, "itsjustmyperiod," she mumbled and Vince frowned, trying to understand, before it cleared up.
"Oh- Why didn't you say anything sooner?" he scoffed, pulling back enough to glare at her, "do you have meds? Tampon, pads?"
Bella's whole face caught on fire and she covered with her hands, "shut uuup, Vin."
"It's not a big deal, I buy tampons for my mom and sisters since I'm a kid," she could almost hear him rolling his eyes, "Bella. Quit this, it's not a big deal."
It was a big deal to her. It was conflicting, to start with. In one part she was a big girl, all self sufficient and a strong believer periods should be normalized and men should just grow the fuck up about it. In the other hand she was an only child of a single mom, who had witnessed boys act like periods were yucky from a young age. Especially back in public school, she had seen some truly horrible shit.
Lucas being so cool with it, albeit a little misguided since he was also an only son, had been a shock. Vince dealing perfectly was almost like a slap.
"I didn't bring my meds," she explained in a small voice, lowering her hands from her eyes, but not removing them from her face, so embarrassed she could die.
Vince winced in sympathy, "that's fine, I'll run into town to get you some then."
"Really?" her voice came out all squeezed and Bella cleared her throat, "you don't have to, just wake up Luke-"
"Nah, it's cool," Vince shrugged, "I don't think you brought a heating pad either, uh?"
Bella shook her head, unable to speak, and he scoffed, "rice in a socked will have to do then."
"What if I divorce my husband and just marry you, uh?" Bella sighed, curling up on her side and causing Vince to let out a startled, loud chuckle, his cheeks turning pink.
"Yeah, keep saying that. Wendy's gonna scratch your face off," he messed up Bella's hair, getting up from the couch.
"I can take her, she's tiny," Bella smiled, much more at ease, "bring me chocolate?"
"She's vicious like a kitten, my money is on my girl," Vince winked at her, walking off to retrieve his wallet and motorcycle keys.
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Hi! Can you do a reading on Halle Bailey and Jonah Hauer-King? For examples, did they like each other during filming & during the promotions? Their videos together are so cut! Do they like each other in general? Is there a possibility for them to be together for real? -🦋
halle bailey, jonah hauer-king tarot reading
2023 dynamic
do I have their energy permission to do and share this reading? 8 of pentacles, the devil reversed
this reading was very complicated, they have undeniable chemistry and they worked very closely as a couple, but halle was in a relationship the entire time, so.. complicated. but they do have a beautiful connection
halle's energy
ace of pentacles (2 of wands reversed), 4 of wands reversed (3 of wands), page of swords (temperance)
ok this is so complicated! she definitely sees their chemistry, they have a great dynamic, she thinks he's a really good friend and she definitely looooved the experience of working with him. she wishes she could be closer to him, but she needs to stop being a kid and go back to real life. now this could mean that 1) she's trying to leave the magical feeling of disney, mermaids and royalty behind to focus on her newer projects and real life, her relationship and alleged baby. I mean, to stop working on the movie means to stop working with him or 2) she thinks that he would be a really good boyfriend, but she is (allegedly) pregnant and thinks she needs to stop fantasizing about princes and take care of some very real things.
either way, she sees him as just a friend (she may not feel like that, but that's how she sees reality)
jonah's energy
knight of wands (6 of pentacles reversed), queen of pentacles reversed (queen of swords), 9 of pentacles (2 of swords reversed)
he really likes her, he thinks she's an amazing person in general, admirable and he's proud to be in her life. he's definitely keeping to himself more after seeing the damage in halle's relationship, he's like walking in eggshells. he's willing to take her in and he is protective of her. I do get a more obvious romantic feeling here, but the cards show that he's willing to stay in her life however she chooses because he genuinely really cares for her, and doesn't wanna lose her. he does seem to follow her lead, I mean we got 1 knight and 2 queens, he is willing to be a prince for her, even as a friend. he'd rather win long term than give up.
dynamic
the magician reversed, the tower, high priestess (8 of swords), 2 of cups reversed
I said damn bitch
messy as fuck.... their relationship is basically nonexistent at this point in time, there's not much either of them can do, halle is in a committed relationship with a man who will publicly shame her for doing her job (kissing another man). she needs to protect herself and he is respectful of that, they're probably not talking and they had a messy ending. they're still spiritually connected, their souls still long for one another because they did connect on a deep level. even if they were just friends, it was a deep friendship full of mutual understanding and pure love. I keep hearing the song daylight by taylor swift in my head since jonah's part of the reading.
is there hope for a couple to be formed?
king of cups, the hermit, death reversed, 8 of wands
this is not the end, there is hope. they do need to be alone for a bit tho to be able to find themselves and have better control and access of their emotions. when/if it happens, it'll be quick, a fast moving relationship, might happen soon too (maybe not to the public)
confirmation "will they become a couple in real life? 3 of cups, queen of swords, knight of wands"
#tarot#celebrity tarot reading#celebrity readings#halle bailey#jonah hauer king#the little mermaid#disney
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The rules are simple: tag the fic that made you cry / feel all the feelings and describe why it's so good. Then, tag some fellow associates to see what everyone else is reading. Make sure to tag #fic rec friday or @welcometololaland so that she can compile the masterlist and spread the love!
Nobody specifically tagged me but I'm gonna try to do these as many times as I can regardless of tags! 💜😋
From The Sidelines by @iboatedhere
This is a fun little league baseball AU, why would it be on the list for "fics that made me cry" you might ask? Well, I went into this fully unprepared for how absolutely emotional the relationship between TK and Jonah was going to make me. It was so well done and there were some scenes between the two of them that just absolutely gutted me. Tears were shed.
the meetings for those in my wake by @morganaspendragonss
I mentioned last Fic Rec Friday how much I love all of Holly's fics and always turn to them if I need some good hurt/comfort/whump in particular. This specific fic has a scene with Carlos speaking to an unconscious TK that just broke my heart into tiny little pieces and I had to re-read that part again to make sure I read it through my tears correctly the first time. Also an honorable mention to quédate un segundo más which has a Major Character Death in it, so if that's not your cup of tea - skip it, but holy shit will it make you cry like a baby.
if my wishes came true, it would've been you by @ravens-words
TK waking up in an alternate reality. I was hooked with just that premise alone, but the way the story progresses really hits you with all the emotions TK is feeling and it definitely qualifies for a fic that makes you feel all the feels.
Every fic in this Seven Ways (Back to You) series by @welcometololaland
3x04 my beloved. Such a good episode. So many missing moments. This series of missing conversations set in that time frame were so absolutely wonderful and they healed my soul when they were posted. Whenever I need to feel some 3x04 specific feels: I go there.
#911 lone star fic#fic recs#fic rec friday#I really need to start preparing these ahead of time cause I KNOW there are so many wonderful fics that have made me cry like a baby#but I can only think of so many off the top of my head lol#i'm not tagging anyone specifically cause I don't know who already did it today since its almost not even friday anymore lmao#(yes I know it says name one fic but like... I can't do that. there's too many good ones)
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22nd February >> Mass Readings (USA)
Feast of Saint Peter's Chair
(Liturgical Colour: White: B (2))
First Reading
1 Peter 5:1-4
As a fellow presbyter and witness to the sufferings of Christ.
Beloved: I exhort the presbyters among you, as a fellow presbyter and witness to the sufferings of Christ and one who has a share in the glory to be revealed. Tend the flock of God in your midst, overseeing not by constraint but willingly, as God would have it, not for shameful profit but eagerly. Do not lord it over those assigned to you, but be examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd is revealed, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 23:1-3a, 4, 5, 6
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In verdant pastures he gives me repose;
Beside restful waters he leads me;
he refreshes my soul.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Even though I walk in the dark valley
I fear no evil; for you are at my side
With your rod and your staff
that give me courage.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
You spread the table before me
in the sight of my foes;
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Only goodness and kindness follow me
all the days of my life;
And I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
for years to come.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Gospel Acclamation
Matthew 16:18
You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church;
the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.
Gospel
Matthew 16:13-19
You are Peter. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven.
When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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Matt 16v13-19: The general public didn't know that Jesus was the Messiah... Matt 16v13-19: The general public didn't know that Jesus was the Messiah but His own Once-Born Peter knew. The Temple Priests kept them in the Darkness. https://youtu.be/fzH7O_qcYm4 Holy Gospel of our Supernatural Father of our “souls” Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., delivered by the first Anointed Christ, which in Punjabi we call Satguru Jesus of the highest living God Elohim that dwells within His most beautiful living Temple of God created by the greatest artist demiurge potter, the lord of the Nature Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc. and it is called Harmandir or “Emmanuel” if you are not “greedy” according to Saint Matthew 16,13-19. Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi and he asked his Brethren and not the Once-Born disciples of the Rabbis – Matt 13v52, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, "Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets." I can smell corruption. Except Peter, all his Brethren were twice-born and they knew that Jesus is the Christ. However, most of the people did not know that Jesus is the Messiah because their Temple High Priest had rejected Him as the Messiah. The Temple Priests wanted to kill Jesus when He Proclaimed to be the Messiah. Now, you say, “You are God, We must kill you”. He said to them, "But who do you say that I am?" The spokesman of the 12 Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Jesus said to him in reply, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, born of water. For flesh and blood of the once-born natural man has not revealed this to you, but my Supernatural Father Elohim greater than the heavenly Father Yahweh, the Lord of the Nature what you can see with your two naked natural eyes. And so I say to you, the Once-Born “Salt of the Earth” Abraham, you are the Foundation Stone called Peter, and upon this rock of Truth, I will build my Church of God (One Fold), and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. That is the Temple of Brick and Mortar made by human hands are no match to the Temple of God built on the sound foundation of Truth. Remember that the Temple Priests had become greedy and hypocrite whereas the Temple of God is FREES of Greed or hypocrisy, the Israelite Nathanial was with no duplicity or hypocrisy. I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven that you can see with your two naked natural eyes. Whatever you bind on earth, Ananias and Sapphira were killed by the Power of the Holy Spirit, shall be bound in heaven, in this secular world of flesh; and whatever you loose on earth as Peter was the Gate Keeper to the Royal Kingdom of God above the ecclesiastical world, the Temples made of brick and mortar by the human, shall be loosed in heaven and allowed to Enter the Royal Kingdom of Sadhu Melchizedik where people have no tribal identity explicit, carry no money in their pockets, no two pairs of shoes, no Scriptures like the Bible is forbidden as your Covenant with our Supernatural Father of our supernatural “soul” is of the holy spirit, which is “common sense” called “Surti” in Punjabi." After the destruction of the Temple in 70 A.D., the Temple Priests, the Husbandmen of the Winepress, the Temple that coined the Moral Laws that ended with John, the Baptist, Luke 16v16 but the sacked Temple Priests good for no other job than that of the ruling Priests, they took the written forbidden Jewish Leaven under their armpits, jumped over the walls like a Thief and occupied the Church of God headed by Christ Jesus making the situation worse than before the arrival of Christ Jesus – Matt 12v43-45. They created Pope and these Neo-Synagogues of Satan as represented by the Church of England headed by King now and their hireling Priests, the Cups shining from the outside with beautiful impressive dresses to frighten the people under the curse of “Sin” that finished with John, the Baptist Luke 16v16; Law and Prophets were till John in the name of Christ Jesus, who has nothing to do with sin but blasphemy as recently spoken by Tony Blair and Bush that Saddam Hussein had WMD but none were found by a Major General who runs a Ministry but dare not proclaim it from the Rooftop as he is under the COE, a hypocrite hiding the Gospel Truth. END TIME GOSPEL TRUTH – FREE LECTURES AND SEMINARS. www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GistEndGospel.htm Other:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Nobility.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/tenlights.htm http://www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JattIslam.htm Virgin Birth of Jesus: - www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bojes.htm For the unlisted videos:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Unlisted.htm Kindle. ASIN: B01AVLC9WO Private Bitter Gospel Truth videos:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JAntisem.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/JOHN 8V44.htm www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm My Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf Very informative Channel:- Punjab Siyan. John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf
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I played talk and my 4-year-old sister is obsessed with Daniel. I asked her what his last name and she replied with “sexy” and won’t stop pausing the video at Daniels part and yelling “he’s so cute” like, is that what I sound like?
UPDATE: She’s crying because she cant see them on tour because we dont have the money to visit them and she wants to “See my friend Daniel”
#why don't we#Daniel Seavey#zach herron#jonah marais#a cup of Jonah's good for my soul#Corbyn Besson#Corbean#jack avery
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NOT SURE WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME W THOSE PROMPTS BUT - THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS
"Tell me what all the sighing is about" w armitozer?
JONAH ILYYY only if for a night is one of the first florence songs i ever played on repeat constantly and it has such a Vibe to me I hope i captured a little. Premise is, haha what if the tuunbaq didn’t eat their souls and they didn’t die, you know. right away.
✨
Solomon knows he is dreaming.
He’s lying in a field, the grass beneath him softer than anything he’s ever felt, the sun bright and golden above, shifting and glittering like a prism. The air smells like--like flowers and soil and life, and he feels clean. Nothing hurts and he’s warm, and that’s how he knows it’s not real. He can’t remember the last time he was warm.
Tommy is beside him, he realizes. He’s propped on one arm and gazing down at him with all the love in the world, and his hand cradles Solomon’s cheek. It feels nice, better than nice. Like heaven. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him in kindness.
“Solomon,” he says, lips curving around it like an embrace. His thumb traces his cheekbone. He’s wearing a pretty red coat; not a marine’s coat, but a brilliant and deep red all the same. Looks better on Tommy than it ever did on him.
I always knew, he wants to say, but his mouth isn’t his own and he can’t speak. I knew you’d be a sight in red.
“Solomon,” he says again, and tilts his head down. Solomon thinks he’s going to kiss him and his heart leaps, he closes his eyes, he thinks, finally, Christ, finally, but even in his dream, Tommy only presses their foreheads together. “Sol.”
Tommy, he tries to say. Tommy. My Tommy.
It’s warm.
“Sol, please,” Tommy says, and there’s something wet on Solomon’s face. “Please, please, please.”
Anything, he wants to say. Anything, I’ll do it.
“Please, wake up,” he whispers, and he notices now how strained Tommy’s voice is. That isn’t right, not here, and he’s irritated. Be happy, he wants to tell this vision of Tommy. I want him to be happy. “Please, Sol, please, God, I’ll do anything.”
I don’t want to wake up, he wants to tell him. Why should he? There’s--something, out there, wherever he is. Something that slinks and prowls. And other things too, horrible things, things he doesn’t know here and doesn’t want to remember. You don’t want to wake up, Tommy. I’ve got you. Here, I’ve got you.
“Look at me, Sol,” he says, and Sol does. He’s beautiful, and he tells him so, or tries to. He looks like he did the first time Sol saw him, doling out the dinner grog, hair rich and dark like the deepest night, eyes as pale and wide as the sky. He’s healthy, his skin looks soft and his cheeks are full and flushed, lips red as spring cherries. He wants to touch him but his arm doesn’t obey.
Tommy, he says, and Tommy sobs.
“I’m here,” he says, and his hand pats weakly at Sol’s chest. “Oh, Christ, Solomon, I’m here.”
“Isn’t it nice?” he says. It sounds like it should hurt to say, like it’s covered in blood and pushed from a broken throat, but it doesn’t.
“I--Sol?” Tommy frowns at him. He wants to rub at the spot where his brow furrows but he can’t.
“It’s spring,” he says, and Tommy’s face does something complicated. “You’re here and it’s spring.”
“It’s beautiful,” Tommy says at last, but he looks pained.
“Will you kiss me?” he asks. This is the perfect moment for it, better than any he could’ve imagined--elsewhere. Everything is bright and warm and soft and Tommy most of all. They can stay here all day if they like. They can stay here forever, and Solomon can kiss him in the grass until he’s laughing again like he used to; this sadness doesn’t suit him. Tommy doesn’t move and he looks like Sol hit him. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “What’s all this sighing about, hm? Can’t you give us a kiss?”
“Sol,” he whispers.
“I’d do it, only I can’t move,” he says, and Tommy chokes back a sob.
Slowly, achingly slowly, Tommy presses a kiss to his lips. They feel dry and cold and he feels the scratch of scabs against his own, but Christ, it may as well be richest silk for how lovely it is. He wants to kiss him proper: wants to cup his jaw, tilt their heads together and find their perfect angle, wants to roll him over with a hand on his waist and cover him, kiss him until Tommy’s lips are redder than they’ve ever been, bite kisses into his throat for him to show off to anyone who sees, wants everyone to know who put them there and Solomon will dare them to say a thing.
But he cannot move, and after a moment, Tommy pulls away. He misses his breath mingled with his own.
“Tommy,” he says, can still taste him. It’s bitter and rank but he could live a lifetime on it. “My Tommy lad.”
Tommy closes his eyes and a tear tracks down his cheek. He wants to wipe it away. “I love you, Sol,” he says, like it’s been wrenched out of him, like his guts have been opened and this is what spills out.
“I love you too,” he says, and he wishes he weren’t so sad. “You’re not supposed to be sad,” he tells him, because this is Sol’s dream and he should have what he wants.
Tommy laughs, a wet and weak sound, but it’s a laugh all the same, and Solomon grins at him. Tommy looks awed, traces his smile with shaking fingers, and he kisses him again. He looks tired.
“Lay down with me,” he says. “It’s getting late, we’ll have to stay here.”
The sun is setting, and that shouldn’t be the marvel it is. The sun always sets, and it rises again in the morning. It will rise in the morning to find he and Tommy here, and maybe if he can move by then and he hasn’t woken up he’ll take him to the pond where he used to swim as a boy. They’ll pull all their clothes off and jump in and the cool water will be a relief, for how hot it’s been, and his mouth and hands will learn all the parts of Tommy he’s never known, and when they’re hungry they’ll pick berries from the bushes and eat them while they watch the clouds float by.
Tommy’s hand traces his cheek one last time, his eyes studying him hard, like he’s committing him to memory. He nods, gives him a small smile, and he carefully lays his head on Solomon’s chest, like the simple motion requires some maneuvering.
He finds his right arm moves, at least, so something hasn’t completely betrayed him, and though it causes some discomfort that feels like faraway agony, he wraps it around Tommy, who shudders at the contact. There’s something wet and warm on his side. Solomon tries not to touch it and hopes it won’t stain Tommy’s coat.
The light dies around them, but the warmth never wanes. He doesn’t know if he can sleep in a dream, but he feels it scratching at his eyes, like he hasn’t had a good night in weeks. He’s never slept with Tommy in his arms and he wants it now more than anything. The world grows still, and finally, Solomon rests.
#henry speaks#the terror#solomon tozer#thomas armitage#funniest part is crozier laying like 10 feet away also unconscious still shackled to the dead god jfdlsajf#do you ever confess your love in a dream state with your estranged dad right over there?#started writing jealous tommy but: it's florence and bc it is florence i owe something to the overall Vibe of the song#urbanvictorian
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Promises Not Kept Part 6
Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.
Part 6: Tommy defends Leah. Polly (drunkenly) defends women all around the world
(gif isn’t mine)
Beth handed Leah a porcelain teacup with gold accents around the rim. Steam rose from the chamomile tea, the scent relaxing just enough for Leah to take a deep breath.
“Thank you.” She whispered and wrapped her hands around the warm cup.
Beth sat down across from her. “Can you tell me what’s going on or…” She had been born and raised in Birmingham. As a young girl, she had been warned about the Shelby boys. Especially when they came back from the war and began to gain power.
“If I knew I would tell you.” She pursed her lips together and held the tea close to her chest. Leah wasn’t sure she wanted to tell Beth about what she used to do in London. But past history aside, she didn’t know what she could tell her about Tommy. What could she say if she didn’t even know what was going on? Was she involved with him or was it just a fling? Despite the anxiety of Rosetta’s men at her apartment, Lizzie’s words still echoed in her brain. A man like Tommy wasn’t someone who enjoyed settling down into a subdued lifestyle. He made the choice to continue this dangerous streak of his. There was something about it that he enjoyed or the reward was worth the consequences. Or perhaps he was simply too far gone to get his head out from under the water.
Leah had no inkling and she had a feeling she might never understand. So did she just leave it? Pretend she didn’t have feelings for the man who practically rescued her from her own despair? He put an end to her self-destructive tendencies and told her she was deserving of much more. Could she really shake the memories of how softly he touched her?
“I can’t tell you what to do,” Beth said steadily. “But I can warn you that if you do interact with him…you’ll most likely pay a price. I mean Grace…”
“I know about Grace.” She interrupted her. Leah didn’t want to hear about Grace. She didn’t want to hear people blame Tommy for her death. Maybe it could be argued that she died because of him, but Leah knew that he never intended that to happen. “He’s not callous.”
“He’s a murderer.” Beth retorted. She leaned forward and touched Leah’s knee. “It’s a cycle, Lee, and I think he knows he’ll end up dead one of these days because of it. But until then, I don’t want you to be a victim of the Peaky Blinders.” She thought about all the young men in Birmingham who either crossed the gangsters’ paths and paid the price, or the ones who decided it was better to join them and got caught in the cross-fires.
Leah set her tea cup down and nodded slowly. “I understand your concern. You’re not the first one to warn me.” She informed her friend. “And I doubt you’ll be the last. But Beth, I don’t know what to tell you. My life, for the last few years, has been nothing but hell. After I lost Jonah I thought I’d never recover. But since I’ve met him…” Her eyes lowered. The things she accomplished in Birmingham listed off in her mind. She knew that night; she would be warm in a comfortable bed in her very own flat. She wouldn’t have to entertain a stranger, sell her body to make ends meet. There would be no marks on her skin the next morning from clients who abused their power over her. She wouldn’t have to pick up the pieces of her dignity every time she walked home from the hotel, the dawn rising behind her. Her self-esteem was building when before, it had only be crushed every single time she forced herself to act the part of an expensive whore. She remembered how Tommy held her close at that crucial turning point in London. When he promised to take her away from that cycle of misery, promised her everything and more. Promised to take care of her like he had told Jonah he would.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Beth’s voice was gentle with sympathy. She could only warn the woman of the potential, or in her eyes, inevitable dangers. Whatever Tommy had done had obviously affected her to the point she wouldn’t change her mind.
Leah swallowed her tears and nodded. “Thank you.”
~~~~~~~~`
“You lads looking for someone?” Tommy introduced his presence on the street. A few smart passersby turned around to avoid the scene altogether. It was never a good sign when all three Shelby men were striding down the street like soldiers entering a battle. With John and Arthur flanking him, Tommy looked positively menacing.
The three men turned to address him. “Waiting for a mate, ain’t none of your fucking business.” Andrew spat a bit of tobacco onto the sidewalk.
John smiled smugly and cracked his knuckles. He liked when people underestimated his brother. It was entertaining and usually meant they would be dealing out some punishments. No one spoke to Thomas Shelby like that in the streets of Birmingham.
Andrew’s cohorts looked uneasy. “That’s Tommy Shelby, let’s just go.” The youngest one decided it was too much to risk over a girl who defected from Rosetta’s harem of Midland girls.
But Andrew didn’t see the danger in front of him. “I ain’t afraid of some gypsies.” He scoffed.
Tommy slipped off his cap. He gripped it tightly in his hand and waited for a beat. Rosetta’s enforcer was a good bit taller than Tommy but that didn’t deter him. The bigger they were, the harder they fell.
And he did fall. A mangled scream left his mouth only moments after taunting the Blinder. His hands clutched over his last good eye, which had been slashed. Those who were willing to challenge the Shelbys in their own domain would receive their signature attack.
Blood seeped through Andrew’s fingers and dripped down his arm. He fell to his knees first before Tommy delivered a jaw-breaking punch and sent him to the ground.
Tommy’s ears rang with the familiar static noise that filled his brain when he flipped a switch. That switch that allowed him to crush a man’s very soul while looking him dead in the eyes. It was such an intense state of adrenaline that he couldn’t register the world around him. The numbness he felt on the daily was enhanced, allowing him to detach from the ruthless force he was inflicting. Every sensation was dulled. He didn’t notice his brothers subduing the other two men. He didn’t feel his teeth accidentally bite down on his own lip during the struggle. He couldn’t feel Andrew’s warm blood coating his hands as he grabbed the man’s collar.
The man was still shrieking in pain and fear while the last bit of vision he had left was slipping away.
Tommy pressed down on his throat to shut him up and keep him still. He leaned close, not disturbed by the blood. “You go back to Rosetta,” He breathed heavily from the anger that was fueling his strength. His voice was just barely above a deep, hissing whisper. “You tell her that if she even tries to harm Leah, she’ll have the Peaky Blinders to deal with.” He released his hold and stood up. Arthur had one of the men in a headlock while John had the other man on the ground, a foot pressing against his chest.
“Get him out of here.” He instructed Andrew’s colleagues. “If you come back here you’ll end up in the morgue.” He threatened and nodded for his brothers to release the men. He turned and dug in his pockets for a cigarette. The blood coating his hands stained his coat but he didn’t notice. He hardly even noticed his lip was opened up during the fight as it stained the cigarette red when he took the first drag. It would take a bit before the ringing in his ears died down.
~~~~~~~~~~
Beth was standing by the windows, anxiously watching the street. She wasn’t keen on having the Peaky Blinders around her home and shop but she didn’t want to kick out Leah either.
Not too long after Leah’s call, Beth spotted Tommy walking towards the storefront. His brothers had gone back to the betting shop so he was alone.
“Leah…” She turned to the woman who hadn’t moved from the couch the entire time.
Without a word, Leah stood and went downstairs. Beth didn’t follow but stayed by the window to keep an eye on them.
Tommy tossed his cigarette to the ground when Leah came out. Concern etched her brow. “You’re hurt.” She whispered.
He only shook his head. “No, isn’t my blood.” He assumed she was talking about his shirt, which had been spotted red.
Leah, in fact, was trying to ignore that fact. She didn’t want to know what Tommy had done but she hoped he had gotten the men to leave her alone. “No, your lip.” She approached him and pulled out a handkerchief from her skirt pocket. “You’re bleeding.”
He touched his chin where a trail of blood had trickled from his lip. “Oh…”
“It’s not too bad.” She carefully dabbed at the blood and cut.
His blue eyes were fixed on hers, the aftermath of the fight was starting to die down. The numbness subsided and he could finally feel her gentle touch. Maybe that was the only thing he would ever feel again. When she moved her hand back, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He didn’t want her to let go.
So she didn’t. She used her free hand to touch his cheek and pocketed the stained handkerchief. The pads of her fingertips subtly rubbed over his cheekbone. He leaned into her touch, grateful for its sobering effect.
“The woman in your house this morning…”
Tommy sighed because he knew exactly what was coming. His assistant had gotten to her first, which was probably why she had left before seeing him that morning. “Lizzie.” He nodded. “What did she say to you?”
“She warned me about you.” She answered honestly. “She said you’d get tired of me eventually. Told me not to waste my time because I would only end up hurt.”
His eyes studied her face. She didn’t seem uneasy if anything she was longing for honesty. “Are you worried?”
She nodded slowly and moved her fingers to graze down his jawline. “For you? Yeah.” Her voice was quiet through her admission. “Maybe I’m naïve for thinking you felt the same way as I did.”
He shook his head and let his fingers loosen around her wrist, letting her go. She didn’t move her hand even when he released her. “You’re not.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Because through everything I’ve been through, I feel much better with you.” He explained genuinely.
Leah bit her lip. “I want to know what kind of man you really are. I don’t want to keep hearing about what other people think of you. You tell me who you really are and I’ll do the same. I just need to know that I can trust you.” Because she had lost the last man she truly trusted. And she wasn’t foolish enough to blindly trust the next person who came along.
“I can prove that to you,” Tommy said with confidence. He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do to harm her. Not when she knew exactly what he felt like. She knew what it felt to be numb. Neither of them wanted that anymore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Tommy entered the dress shop, Beth was with a client. The woman was the wife of one of his men. He tipped his hat to her before slipping it off.
“Afternoon, Mr. Shelby.” She greeted politely.
Beth wasn’t as welcoming. She was still highly suspicious of the Shelby. In her opinion, he had no right to her delicate friend. She didn’t know just how much Leah had fared. “She’s in the back.” Despite her doubts, she couldn’t tell him to piss off.
Tommy nodded and walked to the back storage room. It was a narrow hall stacked almost to the ceiling with fabric bolts and broken sewing machines. The man was so stealthy in his movements that he startled Leah.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that!” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Gave me a fright.”
He smiled and he held his hands up in apology. “Thought you heard me.”
She liked seeing him smile. Especially because he smiled when she turned around and his eyes settled on her face. At that moment he wasn’t the terrifying gangster that everyone else saw. He was just a man who was happy to see someone he was developing feelings for. These feelings were blossoming very slowly and tentatively. He was afraid of them for more than one reason, too many to count in fact, but he didn’t often shy away from things that scared him.
“While you’re here, can you hold this steady for me?” She dragged a rickety chair towards him.
“Sure.” He set his cap and newspaper aside to hold the back of the chair. Leah picked up her long skirt and stepped up onto the chair to reach a bolt of red satin. The aging wood creaked and he was concerned over a very loose looking leg. But it held up just fine and she stepped down without incident.
Her hair swept past him and he caught a whiff of her perfume. It was so alluring he lost his train of thought and the reason he was there.
“Up to no good today?” Her teasing reminded him he did have a purpose for being there. He wasn’t just there to see her, although that wasn’t a bad excuse either.
“I wouldn’t bring trouble to you.” He replied with deep fondness etched into his usually intense tone. “I’ve come to tell you I’ll be off to Warwickshire tomorrow. Be gone for the next few days.”
Leah tucked the bolt of fabric underneath her arm. “Little holiday?”
“You could say that.” He shrugged and leaned his shoulder against a nearby shelf. “Going hunting with me brothers.” He didn’t tell her about the letter he received from America about his father. His brothers didn’t even know yet so he didn’t think it was right to tell her before he told them.
“That should be fun.” It was nice to know he’d be away from business for a few days. Especially doing something that he enjoyed.
“You could come along.” He offered. “Get out of Birmingham for a bit. You’d get to meet Charlie.”
She sighed softly. “That does sound lovely, but I have to work.”
“Soon though.” He stepped closer to her. The space getting smaller in the cramped room. “You’ll be safe with me gone?” He asked and brushed a few stray wisps of hair from her face.
“I’ll be alright.” While Tommy was thinking of every possible thing that could go wrong, Leah was only thinking about how she would miss him.
“I’ll leave the number to Arrow House.” He let his hand cup her cheek. His eyes were soft on her. “Call if you need anything.”
“What if I just want to hear your voice?” A playful smile formed on her lips.
“Then you know who to ask for.” He replied with a chuckle.
“I’ll miss you.” The words surprised her even as they left her own mouth. But she let them remain between them without correcting herself.
“Only be a couple of days, maybe less. Be back before you know it, eh?” He tilted his head down slightly to be at her eye line.
Leah hadn’t realized how much she missed the way he looked at her. The way the ice in his iris melted significantly. “When you come back, can we spend time together?”
“You want to?” Tommy had a lot on his mind. Things with the Russians were getting more intense. He intended on creating a plan that afternoon and setting it into motion as soon as he was able to.
Her nod was a little timid. “I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.” She admitted. “Beth thinks I’ve got my head in the clouds.”
“That such a bad thing?” The corner of his lips quirked up. At least he wasn’t the only one who was getting distracted by the relationship.
“S’pose not. Unless I’m being led along like a fool.”
Tommy shook his head and tilted his head to kiss her. He figured the gesture was better. He could talk his way out of any situation but he had trouble with deciding exactly what to say to Leah. It was much easier to show her physically than to have to trip over words like a schoolboy.
Leah kissed him back, focused on how gentle he was. One hand lightly touched her waist, his other hand combed through her hair, his long fingers slipping through her curls.
He was about to take the fabric from her hand and deepen the kiss but they were interrupted.
“Leah, did you find that red satin?” Beth called from the front of the store. “Want me to help you find it?”
Leah pulled back from Tommy. “Yeah, I found it!” She replied and gave him an apologetic look. “Have fun on your holiday, yeah? Try to relax.”
There was no promising that he could ever relax. That was something he was notably terrible at. “Give me a ring when you can.” He slipped on his cap again and reached into the inside of his coat to pull out his cigarette case.
“Okay.” She pecked his cheek and slipped by him.
Tommy’s hand slipped past the telegram about his father’s death. He sighed and went out the back exit of the shop.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that same day, there hadn’t been much activity in the store. Beth and Leah chatted idly but the conversation of Tommy never came up. In fact they both avoided it as well as they could.
The door finally opened and Georgia, a woman who worked as a typist a few shops down, entered. “What're you still doing here? Didn’t you two hear?”
“Hear 'bout what?” Beth looked up from her ledger at the counter.
“Jessie Eden’s having a rally. All the women at the wire cutting factory’ve walked out.”
“Really?” Leah raised an eyebrow. She was well aware of the women’s rights activists who often held rallies for better working conditions. They were active in London and sometimes Leah would linger in the back of the affairs just to listen in. But there was no chance she could ever participate. The Midland girls, or the ones at the brothel, could never demand better conditions. Either Rosetta would put them out on the street or have her henchmen bully them into submission. But it was lovely to think about getting respect as a human being.
“All the women in Birmingham are going down to the Bull Ring,” Georgia said. "Going to make a statement about the equal rights we fucking deserve."
Beth looked unsure. “S’just us two, we don’t have any men to complain about.” She and Leah chuckled.
“Then come and show support for your fellow woman,” Georgia replied with a hand on her hip. “Not all of us can be as lucky as you lot.”
“If all the women are there then they won’t be coming to get dresses.” Leah pointed out.
Beth smiled. “That’s a good point. Alright, let’s go support our fellow woman.”
~~~~~~~~~
Indeed, it seemed every woman in Birmingham had shown up to the rally. Already, there was a buzz of activity. At the center of the crowd, an older woman was standing on the back of a truck, shouting to the women.
“Oh dear.” Beth sighed. “That’s Tommy Shelby’s aunt.” She pointed to the woman.
“Up there?” Leah stood on her tiptoes to see over the crowd of women. “She seems passionate.”
Polly was yelling about a revolution, adding in curses every other word. She certainly spoke like a Shelby. But Leah wasn't sure that Shelbys were so actively public. They seemed to work behind the scenes to get what they wanted.
“She seems drunk as shit.” Beth shook her head and laughed. “Wonder what Jessie’s thinking 'bout what she's going on 'bout.”
“They seem to agree.” The women were calling out things that needed to change and how they agreed with Polly. "I think they really like her."
Beth grinned and shook her head. “Well, I’m glad we can get out for fresh air. Just glad we don’t have to deal with men in our own fucking shop. I’d hate to answer to some wanker who doesn’t know anything.”
Leah laughed and linked arms with her friend. “Maybe you should be up there yelling.”
“They’re good for fucking but not for thinking!” Beth hollered. They both burst into giggles and joined the women in demanding equal rights.
~~~~~~~~~~
Beth decided not to open the shop up again after the rally. Leah went home with a smile on her face. She enjoyed the sense of freedom she got from being there. No longer was she a working girl who had no voice. Men didn’t keep her quiet night after night. They didn’t look at her like she was nothing more than an object to be used.
As she passed through the door, the phone began to ring. Setting her things aside, Leah went to pick up the receiver. “Ward residence.”
“Were you at the rally this afternoon?” Tommy sounded tired but not angry.
“Beth and I went to watch.” She answered truthfully. “I can’t imagine anyone didn’t go, the Bull Ring was crowded. I saw your aunt.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, so I’ve heard.”
“They all seemed to like her.” Leah couldn’t help but smile. Polly only got more worked up the longer she stood preaching.
“She can be more pleasant when she’s drunk.”
She laughed softly. “Did you have fun hunting?”
“Shot a stag, so I can’t complain.” He wished she were there with him. Arrow House always felt unbearably empty after Grace passed. It was a little easier the more Charlie grew. He ran circles around his nanny but was a sweet little boy who always wanted to be outside with the horses. He made the house feel a little fuller. But there was an obvious gap where a mother figure would usually inhabit.
“Well, I’m glad you could get the time off.” She said softly.
Tommy nodded absent-mindedly although he had thought about nothing but business the moment he arrived in Warwickshire. And now there was a Bentley parked outside in the drive and he had an idea who might be in his office. “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” He asked.
“Sure. To the Garrison?”
“I was thinking somewhere for dinner? Somewhere quieter.” He offered. “That way we could talk.”
“I’d like that a lot.” Leah bit her lip as she smiled. “You can pick me up at my flat?”
“I’ll see you then.” Tommy couldn’t ignore what he had to do for much longer. There was information he needed and he knew how he could get it. “Have a good night, Leah.”
“You too, Tommy.”
He slowly replaced the receiver and took a deep breath. With another breath, he straightened his shirt cuffs and entered his office.
“I’m sorry I came unannounced.” Tatiana sat at Tommy’s desk, a playful look in her eyes.
Something, perhaps dread, settled into Tommy’s stomach like a deadweight. He had a feeling he was going to do something he would regret.
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95 & 98 for Ethan/MC pls 🥺
Thanks for the prompt Anon
You can find the prompt list here.
Taglist: @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @openheart12 @sekizincimektup @junggoku @ethandaddyramsey @edith-eggs1 @ethanramseysgirl (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list 😊)
Warning: Long(I tried to put the keep reading tag but my damn wifi won't let me 😭), Angst and slight swearing
sorry if there are any mistakes :)
🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹
Since that bitch of a governor had trolled them and everything had gone down south, the board decided to host a charity event.
According to Leah, a charity event back home would have been a banquet hall with a Dropbox and a couple of very persistent people who would pester you till you would go nuts.
But here, it was... different.
There was aerobatics going on in one end of the room where the stage was. The number of turns they were making on the hula hoops made Leah dizzy. People wearing designer suits and gowns were standing and chatting. The place was decorated in a very classy way, with red carpets and all. Expensive hors d'oeuvres like caviar and champagne which costed a year of her salary was being distributed.
What in the actual fuck was going on? Leah thought as she stepped into the ballroom looking around before she laid her eyes on Ethan.
Broad shoulders, strong biceps and his beard could make any woman weak.
He was wearing a navy blue tux, with a crisp white shirt. He had opened the top two buttons of the shirt and she could get a peak of his strong chest and the stray chest hair. He had gelled his hair which made him look sharper. When his gaze landed on her, the ocean blue eyes darkened as he took in what she was wearing. The primal lust he had in his eyes made her want to get down on her knees and submit to him.
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Red.
It's the colour of sin. The colour of temptation.
It was the colour of the forbidden fruit which Eve had plucked and eaten, while the devil whispered in her ears, caressing her inner desires.
Red. She was wearing red.
Ethan was standing in the corner drinking expensive scotch when he saw her enter. He almost lost it. Leah was beautiful and sexy but that night, she looked like a temptress. Testing Ethan and his self control.
Self control can go out of the window. How am I supposed to survive this evening with her looking like that?! How was he supposed to make an incoherent thought around her when she dressed up like that?!
There were very few instances when he thought Leah looked good with clothes on rather than off. He loved Leah's naked body, which he had only seen twice but in this case, he could stare at her in that gown, forever.
She had donned a blood red gown. It had extensive embroidery in it, making it look classy. The bodice was like a second skin and emphasizing her curves. It started from the neck. A shear net covered her décolletage. It was an off shoulder, with the sleeves extending down her hands, as if they were her wings.
But that was not the problem which made Ethan a walking hard on, it was the slits that ran down from a little below her waist and extended to the ground, putting those glorious, long, caramel legs on display. He wanted nothing more to throw those legs over his shoulder and eat her out.
It was going to be a miserable evening.
🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹
As the waltz music played, Ethan summoned the courage to ask her to dance with him.
Leah was talking to a couple of investors, squeezing them for their last penny with her intellect. He was proud of his sunshine. She really was intelligent and had great people skills.
And so beautiful..
"Dr. Garcia... May I have this dance?" Ethan asked in a husky voice. Leah excused herself before turning towards Ethan with a huge smile on her face. "You may, Dr. Ramsey."
He takes her hand and leads her to the dancefloor where the couples are swaying. Ethan placed one hand on her waist and clasped her hand with the other. Leah placed her hand on his shoulders and they swayed.
Leah's forehead was at the level of Ethan's lips and she felt a ghost kiss on her crown. "You look like a goddess sunshine. So divine and gorgeous."
Leah blushed, giving him a beaming smile. "You look utterly ravishing E. So hot."
Ethan chuckled. "Your compliments always amuse me."
Their eyes met. Cool blue with warm brown, complementing each other. As they stared into each other's eyes, glancing into each other's souls, the people and the chatter faded away.
It was just Leah and Ethan.
"Sunshine, can you please stop biting your lip…it’s distracting.” Ethan said, as his eyes were on her lips. Her teeth were chewing on the luscious red lips, making them so inviting. He wanted to bite that lip.
Leah snapped out of her daydream. "Huh? How?"
"Well... It makes me want to do unspeakable things to you... Which comprises of you, me and a empty room."
Leah's body responded wildly you his words. "So what's stopping you?"
"You know why Leah." Ethan let out a sigh, staring at her lips one last time.
Leah winced and snapped out of the warm gushing feeling. All she felt was cold fury slowly settling into her veins. She was getting exhausted.
Exhausted of this game.
Exhausted of constantly being turned down.
Masking her face to an impassive expression. Her eyes hardened, putting the walls right back, to protect herself. "Ah, yes Dr. Ramsey. I see."
Ethan was confused by the sudden coolness in her tone. He searched her eyes, trying to find something but it just felt like watching a brick wall.
"Leah I-"
The music came to an end and applause resounded through the room. Naveen, wearing a kurta with a Nehru jacket walked on the stage. "Good evening and thank you for coming to this charity event. Thank you for the generous donations."
Leah stepped out of his embrace and turned on her heel and walked. Ethan was going to follow her but Naveen called him on the stage to speak a few words.
Every instinct in him was screaming to follow the woman who had his heart but he turned the other way. As he stood on the stage, he saw a blur of red leaving.
And at that moment, he felt such emptiness in his heart, it pained him.
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Leah sat on the bench, at the edge of the parking lot, away from everyone.
She needed some damn peace and quiet where she could calm down the whirlpool of emotions rushing through her veins. She took out a cigarette and lighter she had stolen from Jackie.
Leah usually didn't smoke. But at moments of stress and intense emotions, she would light a blunt or two and try to relax. To forget.
She took a deep drag, tilted her head up and let out a long puff, feeling the nicotine burning and soothing her at the same time. The familiar feeling of smoke in her lungs calmed her down.
She sat back and saw the rings of smoke floating towards the starry sky.
"Sunshine." Ethan called out.
Goddammit can't even catch a fucking break.
"What is it Ramsey?'
"Are you okay?" He asked pleadingly.
Leah laughed and Ethan looked bewildered. She stood up, with her cigarette in her hand. "Okay? Ethan I am anything but okay! I am pissed, hurt and so angry that I feel like punching your handsome face."
"I'm sorry if I hurt yo-"
"Damn you Ethan. You have that one talent of hurting me without intending to do it. The way you talk, the way you smile, the way your pupils dilate when they see me and the way your stupid arms feel around me is like a tear in my heart. It hurts so bad but I will always come back."
"I-"
"No! You will shut your trap and listen. Ethan Ramsey, you are a blind, dumb, romantic knucklehead, who has such a beautiful way with words. The way you say 'sunshine' with your dumb voice makes me swoon sooo hard. Around you I feel at a loss of words. My thoughts scramble and I lose my grip. "
"What's wrong with that?"
"See! This is what's wrong. You are so fucking blind that you can't see me totally head over heels in love with you."
"Love? BUT- but how can you love me?! It's insane."
"Yes I'm a fucking maniac and a colossal dumbfuck to fall in love with you!! And God, I know you fucking hate the entire institute of marriage and love but did that stop me? NO! You made me fall for you and I hate you for that." Leah was panting. She threw her cigarette on the ground and stomped on it.
"Ight peace out, dude." She was about to walk away but Ethan grabbed her hand.
"Sunshine, sit down."
"No I'm not-"
"Sit your ass, the fuck down." Ethan's voice trembled.
She wasn't going to win this war. So she obliged.
He sat down, and collected his thoughts. "I'm a hard ass. I have mommy issues. I lash out. I drink when I am stressed. And I can get pissed if things are not perfect... The list goes on and on... And you still love me?" Leah nodded her head and Ethan chuckled. "Goddammit sunshine. You know, I don't believe in this love institute. But... I believe in you."
"What is that supposed to mean?" She rolled her eyes and hugged herself.
"It means that I fucking lose my mind seeing men or women flirt with you. It means that when you enter the room I can't take my eyes off you. It means that I want to spend every waking moment beside you. If that's what love is....then I guess I am in love with you Leah Marianne Garcia."
Leah snapped her head towards him. "What?" She whispered out.
"I'm in love with you."
She cupped his cheeks and brought her forehead to his. "Say it again."
"I love you."
Tears streamed down her face. "I love you Ethan Jonah Ramsey. I love you so damn much."
Ethan pressed his lips to hers, tasting the tears of happiness falling down her face. It was such a tender and vulnerable moment. He never thought that he would be sitting on a bench, in a parking lot, confessing his feelings for a woman.
But Leah changed him, healed him, loved him.
He hugged her waist and kissed her harder, trying to pour all his love and affection for this beautiful woman in his arms.
"I need you..." Leah gasped.
Intertwining his fingers in hers, he pulled her towards his car, which was nearby.
He pushed her against the door and bent down to kiss her collarbone and the sweet spot under her ear. Leah let out a breathless moan and Ethan knew that they wouldn't be able to make it till his penthouse.
Opening the door of the backseat, Ethan climbed in first and grabbed Leah and placed her on his lap. Hands wandered touching and feeling. Gasps and moans filled up the small space and I love you's were exchanged.
Ethan tried to reach for the zipper of her dress, impatient to get her naked, but that just ended up in his hand getting tangled in the dress.
"Damn sunshine! Is this a dress or a trap?"
Leah laughed and tried to helped him not before banging her head on the roof of the car. "Ow." She rubbed her head and both of them burst out in peals of laughter.
Ethan kissed her lips they tried to accomodate but it was to no avail. Leah giggled and said, "Backseats aren’t as comfortable as movies make them out to be."
🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹
#my asks#anushka writes#playchoices#choices stories we play#choices stories you play#choices oh#choices#open heart mc#open heart 2#open heart#oh ethan#dr ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#ethan ramsey#ethan jonah ramsey#ethan ramsey x mc#ohsy#long post#writing prompts
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Poor Unfortunate Souls
Summary:
Jonah came to the Monstro Lounge to find a possible way to save his friends from Azul's contract. It looks like a deal needed to be made between the tiny pirate and the benevolent sea merchant. In a musical style.
(’Twisted-Wonderland: Our Precious Treasure’ 100 kudos celebration!)
(Spoiler for Episode 3!)
Jonah always enjoyed coming to the Monstro Lounge. The staff was so nice to him. He always got excited when Floyd performs his bartender skill or when Jade entertains every Friday night with his singing. Sometimes, Azul even comes out from his office just for a little chat with him.
Though, today was different.
He could see it was more packed and the staff was more uncoordinated than usual. He spotted Deuce, who was carrying a tray of drinks, nearly tripping over, while Ace tried his best to keep up with the costumers' order. No sign of Grim though…
"Welcome~" A voice familiar voice called him, followed by two pairs of footsteps. Jade put a hand on his chest and bow slightly like a butler. "Welcome to Monstro Lounge~ Table for two, I presume?" Next to him, Floyd still has his goofy smile on his face as he waved his hand at the newcomers.
Jack, who stood behind Jonah, crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You like to ask questions you already know the answer to, don't you?"
"Heeh~," Floyd said, resting his elbow at Jade's shoulder. "Don't be so grumpy, urchin~"
"Don't call me 'urchin'!" Jack growled, barring his fangs, which only made Floyd even more amused. Jonah raised his hand, blocking Jack before he could attack their senior. The wolf boy glanced at Jonah, and he glanced back. This is not the time to act rashly. Jack huffed, stepping back.
"You know why we came here," Jonah said, taking one step forward. "Where's your boss?"
"Azul is currently attending to another customer," said Jade. "Can I ask you to wait for a short while? We'll show you your table." He turned slightly, clapping his hands. "Mr. Anemone, please escort our guest to an empty table, please!"
Only a few tables from them Ace and Deuce perked up. "We're busy here!" yelled Ace in an annoyed tone and Jonah could understand him. "Can't you ask someone else?"
Jade frown slightly. "Another disobedient anemone?" He reached to his breast pocket where, Jonah noticed, he tucked his Magical Pen. He squeezed the violet crystal and suddenly Ace and Deuce started screaming.
"Ow-ow-ow-ow!" Ace grabbed his head, dropping the menus from his hands.
Deuce stopped his track before he could spill all of his drinks, trembling as the anemone on top of his head looked like it was trying to get off from his head. "Don't pull the anemone!"
"Senior Jade! Stop it!" Jonah took quick steps forward, grabbing Jade's hand and pulled it away from his Magical Pen. Slightly glancing to the side, he saw Ace and Deuce stopped screaming but still winching in pain. He turned back to Jade who watched him with an amused face.
"They're maybe under your boss' contract, but they are still my shipmate," Jonah said with a low voice, glaring at the older Leech brother. "I do not appreciate someone harming what's mine…"
But Jade didn't even look offended. "Forgive me, dear customer, but it seems that you nearly broke the rule."
Jonah just kept glaring. He didn't even look away when he felt Floyd's hand on his shoulder. He felt the other twin leaned down, lips so close to his ear. "Anyone who doesn't play fair will get some squeezing~" He was drumming his fingers, threatening to reach for is neck…
The hands were immediately gone, followed by a growl of a wolf. Glancing back, he saw Jack pulled Floyd away from him, glaring at the senior who still has that goofy smile. "Stay away from him," Jack said between his gritted teeth. "Watching you guys picking on newbies leaves a bad taste in my mouth."
Floyd, completely unafraid, tilted his head to the side. "Then why don't you help us out in their place?"
There was silence between them. Jonah watched Jack who was thinking hard. He knew he shouldn't have brought him here. This was between him and Azul. Jack has nothing to do with this, and yet he volunteered to join in this sticky situation…
"Jack, you don't have to do this," Jonah finally said to him. That seemed to bring bought Jack back from his deep thought though. He let go of his hands from Floyd's jacket. Floyd took a step back, looking so smug.
"Fine. I'll work for you," Jack grumbled. He looked at Jonah who was shaking his head at him. "I'll be fine," he reassured him. "It's just a little work. You can handle Azul."
Jonah inwardly cursed. Damn it. He couldn't stop Jack from getting roped into this trouble as well?
"Oh, goodie~" Floyd cheered, clapping his hands as he slipped behind Jack. He pushed Jack away from Jonah and Jade, joining Ace and Deuce who looked so grateful. "Let's get to work, urchin~"
Right. He had to handle Azul. He glanced back at Jade. The smile hadn't left his face, which only made Jonah even more ticked off. Weird, he usually enjoyed the Leech twin's antics, but maybe today had been a stressful day, he didn't feel like laughing with them. Or maybe because his friends were in peril!
He slowly let go of his hand. Jade rubbed his wrist. Did he grab it too hard? He bowed again. "I'll show you to your table, Sir."
Jonah sighed and followed his senior. He led him to an empty table at the corner of the room, far away from all the noise. This should be a red flag for Jonah, but he couldn't complain unless he wanted to ruin this chance. He sat on one of the sofas as Jade bow again and left him alone. Jonah sighed again, playing with the string of his eye-patch. Should he take it off? People usually take him seriously when he shows his eye. Though that usually happen during a fight, and he had his crew on his side. His practically alone now, will his eye work?
"Ah~ My favorite customer."
Jonah looked up. Azul was walking toward him in his dorm tuxedo, fedora, and purple scarf. He didn't ask for Jonah's permission when he took a seat across the table in front of him. He had that sly smile on his face. A smile that he usually wears when he knew he would win during the weekly Mario Party game at the Board Game Club.
"How are you doing?" he asked, elbows on the table and fingers intertwining with each other. "I've heard you did well in your test."
"Oh, everything is quite pleasant, Mister Ashengrotto," Jonah said in a fake cheerful tone, just to amused him. "Though my day will be better if you could just let my shipmates go. The others as well, please"
Azul chuckled, resting his chin on top of his fingers. "You know I can't do that, Mister Argentum. I can't just let go of all of those 225 clients Jade and Floyd gathered. It will be rude of me to waste all of their hard work."
Oh, is that how are you going to play? "I am a kind captain, you see," Jonah said, resting his arms on top of each other of the table as he leaned closer. He smiled dangerously. "If my crew is in trouble, I need to get their sorry ass out of there."
"I can see that." Azul didn't feel threatened at all. He looked amused. "But, Mister Argentum, I'm not making them do any work that goes against labor standards. They agreed to my terms before signing the contract. You can't just nullify a contract just because you think they're pathetic. In other words…" The senior smirked at him. "You are too late."
He knew Azul would say that. Azul is many things, but going against his word is not one of them. Then… Let's play that game…
"Then how about I strike you a deal?" Jonah said. Azul raised an eyebrow at him. He took the bait. Jonah continued with an overdramatic voice. "I'm desperate, can't you see? I need… Ah, a miracle, if it's possible." He paused, giving time for Azul to think before he ended with a low voice. "Can you do that?"
Azul was silent for a moment before chuckling. He leaned back at the back of his chair. "My dear, sweet child~ That's what I do," he said as he crossed his legs and put his folded fingers on his thighs. "It's what I live for: to help unfortunate people like yourself. Poor souls with no one else to turn to…"
Acutely, Jonah was aware that the light suddenly dimmed down. Or was it just him. The glow from the window made the atmosphere even more mysterious. He heard footsteps and saw the Leech brothers walked up to behind Azul's sofa. "I admit that in the past I've been a nasty," the silvernette sang as he put a hand on his chest. "They weren't kidding when they called me kinda strange."
The leech brother laughed and Azul gave them a playful glance before waving his hand, signaling for them to go away for a while. "But you'll find that nowadays, I've mended all my ways. Repented, seen the light, and made a change." He tiled his head to the side and smiled. "True, yes~”
Jonah raised an eyebrow at him but Azul just kept ongoing. "And I fortunately know a little secret. It's a talent that I always have possessed." He clapped his hands and Jonah looked up when he saw two students walking toward them, each carrying a tray.
"And, young captain, please don't laugh~" Jonah turned his head back to Azul. "I use it on behalf. Of the miserable, the lonely, and depressed…" In the last part, the two students put two cups of tea on their table and a plate of garlic bread.
Azul suddenly stood up, fixing his jacket as he muttered, "Pathetic."
He started to walk toward him, while still singing, "Poor unfortunate souls… In pain…" He sat on the table, still looking at Jonah. "In need…" He then pointed at one of the waiters. "This one wanted to get taller." And pointed at the other. "That one wants to get good grades. And do I help them?" He snapped his fingers and smoke puffed out from them. When it disappeared, the first waiter is as tall as Jack while the other is wearing a graduation cap. "Yes, indeed!"
Jonah watched the two waiters bowed down at Azul, like a king he was, who glanced at him with a smirk as if he was showing off what he could do. "Those poor unfortunate souls… So sad… So true…
Not far from them, Jack just finished delivering the last order of the night. He looked up as he saw Jonah and Azul. The negotiation could end up terrible. He needed to find those three idiots and show them what they had done.
"They come flocking to me crying, 'Will you help us, pretty please?' And I help them! Yes I do." Azul then sighed, resting his chin on the palm of his hand and his elbow on his thigh.
"Now it's happened once or twice. Someone couldn't pay the price…" A smile formed on his face. A terrible smile. He waved his fingers and one again smoke covered the two waiters. When the smoke disappeared, the familiar anemones appeared on their head. They looked at Azul in panic, but the prefect just kept smiling. "And I'm afraid I had to rake 'em 'cross the coals~" He snapped his fingers and the anemones pulled them away, screaming but couldn't deny.
"Yes I've had the odd complaint." Azul jumped off the table. "But on the whole I've been a saint~" He glanced behind him before spinning in a circle for dramatic effect. "To those poor unfortunate souls!"
Azul ended his spinning, facing Jonah, with a chuckle. "I think I have a perfect deal for you, Mister Argentum."
Jonah nodded. "Please, do tell."
Azul sat back on his sofa across Jonah. "I'll be giving you three days to retrieve a certain photo from the Atlantica Museum. The photo of Prince Rielle's visit to the museum about ten years ago. If you can bring the photo back to me, I will let go of all my new employees, including your little crew."
Around this time, Jack had already gathered Ace, Deuce, and Grim with him. They stood not far from the negotiation table. "I need to remind you that he's doing this for you," Jack whispered to them. The trio winched. Damn it, they got their captain in trouble again…
Jonah frowned. Something's not right… "And if I don't?"
"Then you have to pay the price…" Azul smiled dangerously again. "You must give the right to use the Ramshackle Dorm you look after."
Ace eyes widened. "You've been aiming for that dorm all along, haven't you?!" he screamed, pointing his finger accusingly at Azul. "Why I oughta-"
"Ace, stop!" Deuce immediately grabbed Ace. "We can't interfere!" Both Jack and Grim stood back, unable to do anything. They noticed the Leech twins are standing not far from them with a dangerous glint in their eyes and sadistic smiles.
Jonah ignored the others and focused only on Azul. "Why you want the dorm?"
Azul sighed, pulling his fedora down. "Well, Mister Argentum, you don't have any power you could offer to me, right?"
Jonah's hands curled up into a fist. So, Azul didn't know anything about his eye? Or he purposely ignores it? Either reason, Jonah was glad he didn't need to plug his eye out.
"And you’re not the sole heir of a kingdom," Azul continued. "And I'm sure you wouldn't give up your meddling crew." Behind him, Ace was trying to get away from Deuce grip and Jack grabbed Grim before he could fly toward the table. None of them took being called 'meddling crew' lightly.
Azul smiled again. "I'm giving you a generous offer here."
Jonah kept frowning. "Are you trying to make me homeless? And how am I supposed to swim to the museum-"
Azul cut him off by standing up from his seat. He leaned forward and poke Jonah's forehead. "You have your brain!" Then he pinched his cheek. "Your cutesy face!" Jonah slapped the hand away. Azul walked out of his seat and stood in front of the smaller boy. "And don't underestimate the importance of-" He pulled out his scarf and put it around Jonah's body, pulling it as if he was drying his back. "BODY LANGUAGE, HA!"
He glanced toward the group of junior. "Your small crew there sure like a lot of blabbers," he said, giving Jonah a sideways glance which Jonah respond with a glare and hissed, "Don't you dare touch them!" Azul laughed. He pinched Jonah's cheek again and pulled back before the boy could bite him. "I think a boy who shut up is a bore~" He pulled his scarf, forcing Jonah to stand up. "Yet down here it's much preferred for captains to say lots of words~ And after all dear, isn't that idle prattle for?"
And all of a sudden, Azul dropped his scarf and pulled Jonah's hand. The boy nearly tumbled in surprised but he managed to get his footing back. The smaller boy was being pulled again as Azul took him in a spin. "Azul, let me go! This is serious!"
But Azul just laughed. "Come on, we're here for those impressive conversations~ True gentlemen embrace it in their band~"
He pulled Jonah closer. Deathly close… Jack was fuming behind them. "Azul!" He let go of Grim and ran toward the duo. Jonah's head turned toward him, eyes widened. Nononono! Jack stay away!
But all it took was just Azul glancing at him and all of a sudden Floyd appeared between the duo and the wolf boy. Jack didn't get enough time to react when Floyd, sadistic smile plastered on his face, kick him on the stomach, sending him flying back to the floor. Before the boy could get up, Jade appeared from behind him, stomping his back, keeping him on the ground.
The others were shocked how the Leech twin could take down Jack so very easily. On one hand, they wanted to be free from this cursed anemone. But on the other hand, seeing their captain in the hand of their enemy…
"Let him go, Azul!" Ace screamed as he, Deuce, and Grim ran toward Azul but before they could even touch him, their anemone was being pulled again. "DAMN IT!"
Deuce grabbed his head. The pain was unbearable. He fell to his knees. "OW! STOP IT!"
"MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!" Grim cried, falling to the ground.
"Guys!" Jonah was terrified, seeing his friend keeling on the grounds. He glared at Azul. "Azul, stop this!"
But Azul just laughed. "Why should, captain~?" He grabbed Jonah's chin as his smile widened. "'Cause I'll dote and swoon and fawn, on a boy who's not withdrawn~ It's he who lets his tongue loose gets my hand!"
Jonah was being pulled again, Azul led him into a dance, circling their fallen friends in a very mocking manner. "Come on you poor unfortunate soul! Go ahead! Choose your form! I'm a very busy person and I haven't got all day! It won't cost much!" Azul suddenly dipped him and Jonah wished he was dropped instead. "Just your dorm!"
Azul pulled him again, taking him into another dance. "You poor unfortunate soul! It's sad but true~" Azul suddenly pulled himself away and Jonah took that opportunity to step back. He glanced worriedly at his friend. Ace and Deuce was still kneeling on the ground, being watched over by Jade, while Grim was curled up in pain between them. Jack was still trying to get up, but Floyd was sitting on his back so he couldn't escape. This has gone way too far…
Azul took out his Magical Pen and waved it. "If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got the pay the toll. Take a gulp and take a breath, and go ahead and sign the scroll!"
Suddenly a golden scroll appeared in front of Jonah. I hereby grant unto Azul Ashengrotto the rights to the Ramshackle Dorm… This was their deal. This is it! Jonah re-read the contract, making sure it was correct. There was no way he would mess this up. His friends are counting on him!
Azul started to walk toward Jonah He threw the pathetic crew a sideways glance. "Pay attention, 'cause I've got him, boys…" he said toward them, his smirk became wider and wider. "The boss is on a ROLL!"
He stopped in front of Jonah who looked up at him, still glaring. Azul flicked his Magical Pen, turning it into a white feather. "Well…?"
Without any further delaying, Jonah grabbed the feather, and with no hesitation, wrote his name at the bottom of the scroll. Azul couldn't stop smiling as a violet magic circle appeared behind Jonah's signature, sealing the deal. It shone one last time before it folded itself and flew toward Azul's hand.
"THIS POOR UNFORTUNATE SOUL!"
With one last bright light, the contract as sealed. The light suddenly went off but everyone could still hear Azul's voice echoing in the dark.
"It was nice doing business with you, Captain Argentum…”
#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland fic#twisted wonderland fanfiction#twisted wonderland fanfic#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#twst fic#jonah argentum (my oc)#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#jack howl#ace trappola#deuce spade#grim (twisted wonderland)#songfic#100 kudos celebration#poor unfortunate souls#azul would do this every tuesday#what do you mean azul wouldn't sing like this?#azul is a theater kid#jonah is trying to be a good captain#ace deuce and grim is trying to be a good crew#jack is already a good boy#the leech twins are already good sidekicks#cross-posted on ao3#tw:opt gaiden#serving blueberry
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A Series of Wagers (2/3)
Series: The Magnus Archives
Pairing: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Summary:
"An interesting gamble for one who consorts with The One Alone… up to something are we?”
"Wouldn't you like to know?" He throws back, face contorting into a facsimile smile that rings hollow despite the amusement that has to be there ghosting his lips.
Peter was right though. He did want to know. He always did. And if it weren’t for the mirage now obscuring that information from him, it wouldn’t be necessary at all. Frankly, it was interesting enough on its own that he was finding himself getting the attention now when this was hardly the first time they had met. It’s been a good night overall though, and he isn’t complaining about the game. There’s something surprisingly lively in the pale sea weathered man across the table he hasn’t seen from any of his family in a long time.
"And if I win?" Elias asks, even though he is already picking his cards from the deck.
Notes/Warnings: Canon Compliant, Time Skips, Mind Games, Canon-Typical Behavior, Blindfolds, Mentioned Past Barnabas Bennett/Jonah Magnus, Bondage, Unhealthy Relationship
AO3
CH1 - CH2 - CH3
Chapter 2: 2002 - 2011
DECEMBER 2002
While normally Elias has no issues in, and even to a degree, enjoys planning events it came as a relief to not be in charge of it this year. The end of the year is always a busy time between responsibilities to the Institute, its employees, planning the usual office party, and making sure every loose end was knotted off—nothing left lingering on his check list.
So it’s a bit of a reward when all is said and done. And despite their disposition, the Lukas family threw a good party. The venue contained plenty of spots to hide away, and after giving the necessary greetings to donors also attending, he’s able to find a nice view point from one of the tables at the top of the staircase, and comfortably watch the night unfold.
With the amount of catching up between those attending, it’s easy to glean a succinct summary of how everyone else spent the year. The things they admit, the things they think they should keep as a card up their sleeves. The tentative boundaries they draw around each other and where those alliances overlap or remain prickly as ever. Elias sits and watches them all, sipping at a flute of champagne.
It’s no surprise when Peter finds him, as usual not caring to properly announce his presence.
“Being a nosy voyeur again?”
“I believe I am allowed to enjoy a party in my preferred method. I don’t see you out there mingling either, dear,” Elias retorts, turning his gaze away from the crowds flittering down below to watch his partner steal a swig of his drink.
“That’s Nate’s job. Company head and all that—I’d rather be out on the water again, but…” He does a shrugging motion both in reference to statement’s obviousness, as well as a vague indication he was supposed to be here doing… something. Given his family was hosting, putting in an appearance that he promptly turned away from most likely.
Elias is already accustomed to this and only makes a mild noise of understanding without vocalizing that the concept didn’t seem so bad at the moment. He was feeling rather weary and in desperate need of a vacation himself, though with the length that the captain preferred to be out on the water, he doesn’t think that would be enjoyable. A weekend sounded nice though.
“I take that it was another year spent well isolated then? Certainly sounded like you had little to report.” There’s a thread of humor unsaid in how quite a few of his calls went unanswered, which spoke for itself well enough.
“Oh, nothing too strenuous, no. Did some spring cleaning of the crew; spent a couple months in València,” Peter looks wistful as he recalls it. As if by imagining it, he’ll be back in that Spanish seaside losing himself in crowds and drawing others to become just as lost. Not that Elias was peeking, much.
“Ah yes, I received your ‘care package’. Can’t say I’m too fond of potentially disease causing artifacts, but the Cuva Vella was nice to see.”
“I don’t have the same skill sets as your lot, so there’s no knowing if it’s really from the hospital they claimed, but it looked like a nice vase either way.”
“Well it’s in Artifacts now so…” Elias responds hiding how distrusting he feels in regards to the man’s true intentions, knowing for a fact it did have something attached to it. He, of course, is going to continue to feign disinterest—something he’s seemed to pick up as a reflexive instinct to match Peter.
“And here I was going to get you flowers,” The captain laments, though the sincerity of it is muddled behind a grin which appears to contradict his words. Elias doesn’t care to look to clarify for himself, and only answers him with an eye roll.
They stay the remainder of the party, out of sight and catching up themselves. Elias shares what gossip he feels like discussing, despite knowing Peter likely only cared to the extent of using the information to avoid as many extra conversations or meetings of his own. At some point, he must get sick of hearing about it though, and abruptly raises his head from the perch of his palm and suggests they leave.
It’s the free time Elias has to spare, he tells himself, beckoning him to follow Peter out into the night, leaving his own car to be picked up in the morning. The venue is closer to Kent and he knows they aren’t too far from the Moorland House, but isn’t surprised when it’s that same building Peter sometimes calls a home they arrive at instead.
They exchange coats and a chill settling in the room, an imitation of the past times they’ve been here—along with it, there’s an underlying hunger, once more waiting to spring free. He hadn’t been looking or expecting a longing to be there, and yet, after so many, many months apart, why wouldn’t it be?
They follow similar, yet different steps this time. Elias is more familiar with this place now despite only having been in it a handful of times before physically. He is a detail-oriented man. The model ships and carved wooden birds are still tucked away in corners meant to be dismissed. No new paintings aside from the empty coastlines he’s already seen—no doubt a gift from Simon if he detects something else alongside the strokes of that vast ocean captured in the frame.
It’s pleasant, the way Peter stares at him. Equally ravenous for what they no doubt came here for and for attention he doesn’t want to admit, all wrapped up with a lovely sheen of genuine discomfort at how deeply Elias is seeking out the person hiding behind this farce of a home. This room is nothing like the cabin he has never actually set foot into on the Tundra, and it is a place he doubts he will ever be allowed to visit.
No, this place is nothing to Peter. Merely, a place to sleep when he’s forced to anchor. A reluctant tie to society and its dregs, which Elias has happily helped wrap around his legs.
Something in his expression must have changed for Peter reaches out to him, a cold embrace at his back and an even colder kiss at his nape. He doesn’t turn to face him right away, enjoying the strange pleasantry. If he gets his way tonight, giving Peter this now is only fair.
“For a moment, I thought you were taking us back to the Moorland. Though, we are still a little ways off from an actual holiday aren’t we? You will take me there sometime, won’t you?” Elias asks, placing a hand over the one holding his side. They both know he isn’t talking about the house itself. Peter may not know it, but he remembers visiting Mordechai there—truly, it had more to do with that basement and what Peter felt about it than anything else.
“That eager to see? I keep telling you, if you accept my proposal—” He breathes, by his ear, amused until Elias twists around and cuts him off.
“And when exactly would we fit in this ‘wedding’? You’re hardly moored for long and I have an Institute to run. You always struck me as the type to remain engaged for as long as you could, so I would think this arrangement is far better than the alternative.”
Peter’s eyes darken, and it strikes Elias for the first time how deep those still waters really run.
“You… actually like the thought of it. You’d like to call me your husband,” He moves his hands up to cup the man’s cheeks, before delicately moving them down along Peter’s beard to play along his neck. His fingers trace down his pulse enjoying the rapid thoughts accompanying it.
“A connection of your own definition, but one none the less… Are you that worried I’ll leave you behind? Bit hypocritical don’t you think?” The smile he directs isn’t necessarily meant to be cold, but it is piercing in a way he knows is uncomfortable.
“Not really. I’m aware it wasn’t as common in your day, but anyone can get a divorce rather easily now. Marriage isn’t the contract you’re imagining it to be.”
“No, maybe not, but that’s all the more reason for me to wonder what it is you imagine it to be. You can ignore it all you want later, but right now you will look at me and tell me,” Elias starts, stilling his hand to hold at the back of Peter’s neck, keeping him in place to meet his eyes. He doesn’t have an Archivist’s compulsion, but he has intimidation and the invasive, burning reminder gripping tight into the pale man beside him that he cannot run right now.
“Peter Lukas, do you really want to marry me?”
For a man capable of having almost anything he could desire, arranging his life to be as self-indulgent as possible, it’s uncommon those desires ever actualize in the form of wanting another person. Someone so used to the world around him rejecting his existence that he’s learned to soak in it, and pretend he loves it, wearing it as a second skin. And maybe, to a degree he does actually love it. The utter and unabashed way you can love yourself when there isn’t a need to think about another soul in the world.
And that is why at the root of it someone like Elias is both perfect and terrible for him. Because he’s so afraid of being seen, it’s only natural the Eye would show interest. And Elias wishes to know him so intimately exactly because he hides. All the while, he can know with certainty that such a fascination is surface level, having very little to do with the fact it is Peter specifically he is showing interest towards.
It is why Peter spells all the justifications in the world for their relationship. It is why he can indulge in the easy nature of being seen, but not being cared for, until sometimes, it feels like he is wanted—like he wants and wants and will be denied. Abandoned once he’s been found because he knows Elias doesn’t hold on to anything for long. Besides bones that is.
“Yes,” is all Peter will admit to, impossibly small, but it reaches Elias and warms him in a way that he knows is more than just affection. He rewards the admission, stroking his cheek before learning up to kiss him properly. It doesn’t even occur to him immediately the words were never actually spoken, but plucked from the captain’s head.
There will be many nights where this doesn’t mean anything, but for tonight, there is a vulnerability Elias doesn’t know when or if he’ll have the pleasure of seeing again. In truth, there isn’t really a way they could right now, and he had never imagined himself a married man. Defining what they have would be too much for both of them, but making it a comfortable illusion confined to a ring that he doesn’t have to think about if he doesn’t want to is a preferable solution.
The kiss is chaste, and this time, it is him breaking away and walking to the bedroom, removing his clothes with a practiced patience, expecting Peter to follow suit. Peter flips from fidgety to irritated, finally catching onto what was just discussed, and Elias soaks in the emotions radiating off him hidden in the rustle of clothing. Without a word, he retrieves some coils of rope and lubricant from the bedside drawer, and simply waits and watches.
Peter’s second guessing why he brought him here and Elias is patient—the captain will come to his own conclusions in the end. Either way, Elias knows he will play into the game set up tonight and he only smiles when Peter finally lies on the bed. After a beat, he resigns and raises his arms to the headboard.
Methodically, Elias twines the rope around those presented wrists, and prompts Peter to test the tightness.
“Comfortable?” He asks, looking down. It’s just the ropes he is referring to here, and the flicker of a scowl he receives is indicative that at least Peter has accepted how things will go.
“They’re fine,” He answers him, muted and tense. It pleases him to see him restricted like that, such an easygoing man who usually was so fond of startling others looking instead so impossibly small for someone of his stature.
“Excellent,” Elias murmurs, tone light and notably excited. He stays on top of him, and resumes the languid kisses he’d intended to give before their conversation began. While Peter had been annoyed minutes prior, he can feel the interest in his prick as it hardens, bumping into his backside. He bites the pale man’s lower lip, feeling all at once a rush of cold air exhaled with a moan.
Elias begins to trail those kisses south. Unlike his partner, he prefers to not only take his time, but leave a lasting imprint. There isn’t any doubt who he’s with when it comes to Peter, no, but the man is so obsessed with giving just enough to make a person want more. A lingering note of dissatisfaction, enough to draw in that hungry voracious need for contact he feeds on.
For Beholding though, it is about the experience. About learning and cataloguing all those little things, people don’t even know about themselves necessarily until they’re in the act. Especially the things they don’t know—don’t want to show.
It’s unavoidable like this for Elias not to look. Once the captain is drawn in, feeling really comfortable, he opens that eye and takes a gander at just what marriage means for a Lukas like him.
When he looks, he sees shadows of people. More like impressions or ghosts really, and yet, all come together to welcome a new member. The Moorland House from the outside is about the same as he remembers it. A foggy almost forgotten place that only served as a temple and a tomb.
He sees dances where there is no feeling, stilted haunting music, and tables so far apart from one another that you’d think the room was empty even with the party clearly going on around them. Even the couple in question, once their vows and first dance finished are far apart from each other. As if they were strangers on separate sides of a dance hall—which perhaps, they were.
And that was the problem though wasn’t it? Elias isn’t meant for the Lonely—isn’t willing to truly join that family. Peter knows this. He knew it from the beginning and knew what he was getting into when approaching Elias with even the semi-serious notion of a date, but he’s comfortable with it. With maintaining the distance they already have, only with the facsimile promise of belonging that he could and would never truly have.
Truly what a heartbreaking notion that is so very pitiful and suiting of the situation. Something finally that Elias understands.
As he comes away from that, it’s written across Peter’s face with trails of unwanted salty tears, and etched into his heart. All Elias is doing is plucking away at scabs, poking at a raw gaping sore he never had any intention of soothing.
“Oh Peter,” Elias says softly, no real sense of comfort in his voice. He’s enjoying how far he can stretch this, and it’s with a reluctant, rare mercy he withdraws from the other place he wanted to see in that house. If he tries to look anymore, well, there won’t be anything left—and that wouldn’t be any fun, would it?
DECEMBER 2005
They never do marry. Even when a legal approximation could be considered, there are too many things, and good reasons, that stop it from ever happening. Still, in the end, Elias goes far enough to accept an engagement ring and they make believe it is real, knowing it isn’t just him who often removes it. Honestly, he’s more surprised Peter didn’t take this as a proper sign to simply end the game, not that he’s seen him for longer than necessary the past couple years. Whether that’s his attempt to instill that loneliness he’s so craving or… something else, Elias is too busy to care.
How do you love a man who has no ability to perceive it? Who, in fact, reflexively rejects every attempt at genuine affection?
Elias even hesitates to necessarily ascribe that much feeling to whatever it is their relationship has become. It has enough characteristics for the applicable term of lovers, but there is a history Jonah holds with that word, which has always had an underlying cruelty he can never seem to shake. The both of them do really.
He’s had lovers in the past. Strings of men who’d sing his praises until they saw the depths of him and either were in too deep to get away, or ran as far as they could. Peter was neither of these types of men. They were similar in such a way that it was both a relief and irritating. Men of their nature can attribute as many pretty words and intentions as they want to the way they treat each other, and he knows for as much as Peter can feel for him, what they share is mutual. Perhaps, it’d be better to say they tolerate each other.
Even if there are times that Elias wants to bridge that narrowing gap and see what else is lurking under the surface, he knows such a reality would never exist. And further that he cannot describe the feeling which draws him into wanting that as anything but the endless need to unravel that which does not want to be seen. An itch caused by mere fascination that could and would only end in painful tragedy. If he were a kinder man, maybe he could see himself comforting what he found behind that empty smile, but he knows himself too well. If he had his way, he would utterly destroy Peter and maybe regret it, but he knows he would still do so.
That is why he does not entirely begrudge the man his fleeing and disguises. The way he will run hot and cold and pretend so frequently that he could drift away at any moment, leaving Elias a forgotten memory. It’s his own way of dealing with it, and it’s fitting payback to only scratch at wounds Elias himself pretends don’t exist.
They don’t love each other so much as the idea of what it would be like to be with each other. A thing that in practice never quite turns out the way it’s played out in the imagination. A momentary lapse where it’s easy to pretend that affection is real, a relationship forged on understanding unperceivable to anyone else around them.
Someday, it’s going to destroy one of them—and Elias does not plan on it being him.
MARCH 2006
“Yes, Peter? I do believe this is the first time that you’ve actually been early to an appointment,” Elias addresses the now sudden form of his partner in the chair across his desk. He doesn’t look up from the stacks of department expenses he’s trying to catalogue and update to a budget’s spreadsheet, also laid out on the desk.
“I’m here to cash in a favor.”
“Right, my unfortunate guess regarding Mr. Rayner last year,” he starts, waiting on the captain to prod the conversation along.
“I’m not asking for much, just to give a little back you could say for a project of mine. Requires some specific construction, placing and people in mind, which that eye of yours would be just great for,” Peter explains, laughing at his own joke.
“Your project, yet my work, I see. I wasn’t aware you were looking for a secretary,” He muses, reading over the budget expenses from the research department as he listens. He had hoped to have this aspect of his day squared away before dealing with whatever it was his ‘husband’ wanted to talk about.
“Real estate agents and contractors are so annoying. You love talking to people though, so you’ll probably have a blast. And it’s not like I won’t be there—I have it all planned out, I just need to find the right people to do it. So all I’m asking is for you to do a little research, which is something this place does, is it not?”
“And will I be privy to this project, or will that be a secret for me to figure out?”
“Haven’t got a name for it yet, so no. It’ll be fun—certainly more so than the little experiment Fairchild’s gotten my family sucked into,” He sounds bored, maybe even a bit bitter at that.
“Oh? Right, I heard about that. Do wish I could see how well that will work, but with Mr. Rayner involved, it’s doubtful. Although, if they make it out, maybe I’ll see about them giving a statement.”
Peter shoots him a withering look over his priorities, but Elias ignores it. Luckily, the whole thing has nothing to do with him.
“It just seems like a waste overall.”
“Sometimes it’s about the quality, not the quantity.”
“Say that when you can fund your own Institute,” Peter quips back. There’s no arguing with that necessarily, but it is funny enough that Elias gives him a bemused smile not deeming it with a response.
“Well, I’ll let you know how thoroughly afraid whoever gets stuck up there is and we’ll decide on it later. Now, is there any sort of time table for this other juncture of yours?”
Peter hums, deciding finally to give Elias just a few more pieces to work with.
“Soon as possible, I’ll send over what I have in mind. I’m sure you’ve already heard the rumors, but a supposed extinction might be coming, so the sooner the better. While I’m at it, I’m also including that you won’t interfere when things kick off, but that’s to be assumed, of course.”
For all the rituals attempted over the years that Elias has witnessed, none of them—including his own first attempt—completely worked, so he really doesn’t have any intention of trying to ruin things. However, he also has been paying a little attention to what his current Archivist has been up to and knows that there’s always the chance she will do something. In that regard, perhaps it would be kind of him to give Peter a warning, but he doesn’t control and can’t consistently predict the things Gertrude Robinson deems necessary to handle. She appears to have her hands quite full with stopping other rituals, so for all he knows it will slip under the radar.
“Well, if it comes, it comes. You know I’d much rather watch and see what happens than make any effort to stop either you or any new power emerging. I’m simply curious as to whether it’ll be enough to do anything.”
“Right. Of course, you would say that.” Peter says, and it should bother him that he can’t quite tell what he means by it. Though, from the stare Elias is receiving that feeling is mutual. He has his own pieces being moved along right now and the coming of another power matters very little in regards to what he’s attempting to do. He, unfortunately, also just hasn’t found the right person for it, yet.
SEPTEMBER 2007
Time and technology has diluted it, but there is nothing quite like starlight on an open deck far, far away from any overpopulated, glaringly bright city. Such a sight almost makes Peter understand what it is that Simon sees, but it isn’t the Vast, which is capturing him right now.
It has been a rather bad year for Peter Lukas.
While he hadn’t done much more than provide resources and keep an ear out, the Daedalus experiment had eaten up a chunk of time and money that he couldn’t even feel arrogant about. His bet with Elias on that may have been won, but the man had seemed oh so indifferent to his other little project being ruined. They’ve spoken before about Gertrude and the type of woman she is—still the thought of having all his work tossed away over a newspaper article is infuriating and humiliating.
The waves of the Atlantic can never disappoint him, and for Peter that is a relief beyond measure right now.
There was no need to ask Elias if he knew. If Gertrude was set on it, she would have done it just based on the rumors being passed around, and of the indistinct and few impressions he’d garnered, even he likely couldn’t have done anything. No, what Peter really didn’t want to see was the absence of interest—a blank gaze, perhaps with a hint of that smile he always held, which further spelled dubiousness. He isn’t even sure why it feels vaguely like a betrayal on Elias’s part when technically he hadn’t done anything. When did that start to bother him though? It should be a comfort, a reminder.
Peter watches the waves idly lap at the side of the Tundra and wonders what changed. Moonlight faintly glints off the ring on his finger, and he imagines throwing it into the ocean.
Alone, he can gaze at the stars and the moon and feel at peace knowing there is no one else to share this sight with. No one else he would want to share this sight with. He sailed over eight thousand kilometers away from the one person who he might have considered wanting to share it with, and he’s not entirely sure just when it will be that he returns.
JULY 2011
Vardø, Norway
Peter stares at the phone buzzing on the hotel’s nightstand, wondering once again what possessed him into getting one, let alone keeping it on his person. Convenience in this era often requires time specific urgency, he supposes, but it still didn’t have to be something he liked, let alone abided. As such, when he sees the caller ID as none other than Elias Bouchard, he has half a mind to ignore it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and whatever it was he wanted to talk about could easily be contained to a voice mail.
So he lets it ring. He turns another page in his book, but instead of the notification of a waiting voicemail, the phone lights up once more. Elias is still calling and that is new.
With a sigh, he picks up. Unsurprisingly, the man doesn’t start with any pleasantries. He must know that since Peter has actually decided to answer, he doesn’t have long.
“You’ll still be in Vardø for a few more days correct? I need a favor.”
“Maybe. Depends on exactly what you’re asking for?” Peter complains, shuffling the phone to better squeeze between his ear and shoulder. If he can tune his sometimes husband out well enough, maybe he can still focus on his book. He’d long stopped bothering to chide the other man for keeping an eye on where he is, so he wasn’t planning to even ask how he knew.
“I need you to pick up Ms. Robinson and one of her assistants in Dikson. They need a lift to Zemlya Sannikova, and I figured you would be in the area and have a working vessel.”
He barks a laugh because while he understands, the request is ridiculous.
“Oh you are something else, Elias. Exactly why should I do this favor for you, let alone her? You’ve already racked up quite a debt with me already.”
“Because dearest, you might also want to ensure that the Distortion doesn’t get its way. Of course, if you’d like to exist in that kind of world, who am I to stop you? I’m sure knowing her, there’s another plan up her sleeve, but I figured why pay the extra expenses for a ship when I have you.”
He frowns reflexively at that wording. It isn’t necessarily that he doesn’t like the notion—the implicit possession they both hold of each other and the ease with which that label doesn’t have to mean anything. Peter himself was a firm believer of absence making the heart grow fonder and steadfastly pushes that to its brink, finding the delightful way Elias tries to pretend like he didn’t miss him at all when they next meet. He also ignores the fact that sometimes it was actually true.
“Hm, so you won’t be paying for the fuel needed to get there and back? What payment should I expect then?” Peter’s voice dips at that, finally finding some ground in this conversation that feels comfortable.
There’s a shift of clothing barely audible on the other side of the phone. A pause and he can almost see the calculating and playful smile on Elias’s face.
“Hurry back and you’ll find out.”
The phone call ends before he can answer, and it’s a strange, vaguely defeated sensation caving into his chest at the prospect of returning. Of seeing whether Elias felt anything by his absence and if that will sustain him or preparing for Elias to try and take something else from him.
Doing what he does best, Peter simply shuts the phone off entirely and returns to his novel.
Dikson, Russia – Arctic Sea
A few days later, he finds himself docking at the port town Dikson. Gertrude is waiting with someone who must be the assistant Elias mentioned, flitting and looming around her as if he can keep the blustering winds from reaching her. What really gets Peter about the sight is that he is the one who looks like he could be flattened at any moment, wild blonde hair lashing about almost as bad as his fretting. He doesn’t make an effort to greet either of them though, and merely goes as far as indicating the Tundra is here and ready. He leaves the settling of their new cargo to his crew and returns to his cabin.
Gertrude surely knew where they were heading as that had been another aspect to the fun chat he’d had with Elias, which hadn’t come up. Zemlya Sannikova doesn’t actually exist.
It isn’t until they’re further out to sea, still at least another day away from nearing their supposed destination, does he take to checking in. Night has fallen and everyone is either where they’re supposed to be or trying to fade into the background as best they can. Neither of these things concern Peter as he walks the deck of his ship. The ends of his navy scarf are trying to whip away from him and absentmindedly, he considers replacing it soon. Another gift from Elias that he didn’t actually dislike, but it was getting old.
The cold of the Arctic is familiar, albeit bordering the edge of just too much. Certainly, too much for anyone else on board, which makes it regretful he can’t stay there himself. He doesn’t remain above deck as long as he might if they were anywhere else, and instead hides himself back below.
Despite all the maps stored in Peter’s cabin, sure enough when they reach the spot Gertrude directed them to, there is an impossible island in front of them. He idly watches the pair bundle up twice as much, her assistant fails in trying to take the backpack’s weight for Gertrude and Gertrude… she simply looks at him with those eyes again. They’re worse than Elias’s stare, he decides.
“We won’t be long,” she assures, voice hard. And soon enough, he can’t see either of them anymore.
The perverse urge to abandon her here hits him, but he had already agreed to the favor and heads back to his cabin to wait out however long her business will last. One or two of his crew express interest in looking for themselves and he has to send them off to do something else, wondering if he misread them that badly. No one aboard should care about what’s happening on that island that cannot and yet does exist.
He waits in his cabin and scratches down on one of the maps about where they must be. It isn’t really with any intention of returning—he has no interest in the Spiral.
Eventually, Peter directs his gaze to the necklace he’d received almost a decade ago, hanging on his cabin's wall and left uncovered for their little trip. He assumes Elias would want to watch—be there in his own way. Yet, as he always knows, the captain remains alone. He is intimately aware of how Elias's eyes feel when weighing upon him, and as such hates that he is relieved and disappointed when it is missing.
London, United Kingdom
Elias is distracted. He had every intention of watching while going through the motions of interviewing new employees, but he is floored by the young man taking the seat across his desk. It is not so much that he finds himself incapable of multitasking like he usually would, but oddly that he doesn’t want to.
A gift dropped right in his office is very hard to ignore. And he is a gentleman first and foremost, knowing that the Mother takes priority over his passing fancy and wayward Archivist. Someone already marked by the Web and yet still just as painfully curious despite the event. He observes it all and hopes this one works out. That he has finally found his Archivist.
“I think you’ll fit in quite well here at the Institute, Jon.”
By the time he looks back to the Tundra, it’s over. Gertrude has returned to the ship leaving another assistant to an unfortunate end, and Peter is engrossed in a book, looking utterly indifferent even with the eyes he must feel directed on him now.
Reluctant as the captain was initially, the favor is done. And after Gertrude is dropped off back in England, their meeting is brief. He doesn’t join him this time or take Elias up on what he’d had in mind, however vulgar he had implied it over the phone. Truly, Peter doesn’t really want to be there at all. There’s a hollow smile in the way he says perhaps next time, and leaves again. The lingering chill eats away at him more than he expects, but at the same time, it feels different.
He wonders if his husband will ask why he wasn’t watching earlier, or if he even noticed. He wonders with all that heavy, cold nothingness expanding ever so slowly between them, if Peter has taken his ring off.
He wonders why he doesn’t check.
END NOTE: entirely want to give inspiration credit to the imagery of the wedding scene and the moorland house in particular to a Very lovely fic a glass essay which made me realize how much i actually like peter? if you are reading this and have not read it i Highly recommend it, the characterization and atmosphere are absolutely incredible.
#writing#writing: tma#pairing: lonelyeyes#character: elias bouchard#character: jonah magnus#character: peter lukas#jonah magnus#elias bouchard#peter lukas#lonelyeyes#peterelias#pt 3 will come sometime soon!!! busy w some other projects but \ o /
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Hi! I’ve just seen you were open to requests. I was waiting for this for so long, I love your IkeRev HCs! Can I ask for one with Ray, Fenrir, Jonah (and Kyle too if you are inspired) reacting to/taking care of a pregnant MC, please? Thank you so much!💙
Hewo ｡◕‿‿◕｡ Thank you so much for patiently waiting for me! I’ve finally reached your request and I’m really excited to finally write something for you!
I hope you enjoy ❤
Ray, Fenrir and Jonah reacting to/taking care of a pregnant MC:
Ray:
Ray’s first reaction to the news of your pregnancy was a heavy mixture of shock, disbelief, extreme happiness and crippling fear, all melted together, overwhelming his senses and making him feel numb.
He slowly sat down on your shared bed, speechless, his eyes never straying from yours as you patiently continued to smile, allowing your husband to take all the time he needed to fully absorb the news.
Ray’s brain was painfully torn between how ecstatic he was that the fruit of your love will soon be brought to life and how terrified he felt of the possibility of the child ending up inheriting his cursed magic abilities.
When the minutes ticked by with no new signs of improvement, you closed the distance between you and you tenderly cupped Ray’s face with your two hands, eyes trembling with raw emotions as you whispered to him ‘You will make a great father, Ray. There is no need to worry. I’m here.’
Ray’s worries melted under your warm touch and affectionate gaze and he gently, ever so gently, wrapped his arms around your middle and softly hugged you closer, carefully leaning his head on your stomach, scared that a mere touch would hurt the unborn baby.
You chuckled at your beloved’s action, but still let him be, watching him closely as he held his breath, trying his best to listen for sounds or sense any movement inside your stomach, a fascinated expression drawn on his handsome face.
Once Ray learns how to accept his new role as a father, you will be constantly showered in countless gifts and endless love.
Ray is extremely meticulous with you, always making sure a trustworthy soldier is by your side whenever he is away, but not to the point of smothering you or forcing you to stay at bed at all times.
In fact, he will even encourage you to take short walks with him, perform light and simple exercises to help decrease your pregnancy fatigue and ease your back pains, all the while keeping a close eye on you so you won’t over-exert yourself.
Ray is the perfect husband. He will make sure to pamper you with compliments, help brush your hair and put your shoes on, on days where your morning sickness leaves you too tired to even lift a hand. He will make sure to kiss every inch of your body, whenever your hormones act up, and you start hating the reflection you see on the mirror, judging her as too fat or too ugly.
But Ray will have his off days too, oh sure he will. He will have days when he feel like locking himself up in his room, second-guessing himself. But every time he looks at you, beaming with happiness as you stroke your stomach, tenderly praying that your boy ends up being similar to his father, Ray regains his resolve to protect you both, even if his son ends up becoming a magic user like himself. He will not allow his child to repeat his tragedy, and he will fight to his last breath so his son grows up happy and well.
Fenrir:
After you finished delivering the news to Fenrir, you nervously stood in the middle of your bedroom, lightly fidgeting with your hands as you await your lover’s reaction. Fenrir dropped whatever object resided in his palms, and blinked in confusion at you. Once. Twice.
Then all of a sudden, Fenrir is screaming on top of his lungs something along the lines of “FINALLY MY DREAM IS COMING TRUE” and “OH GOD I LOVE HER TO DEATH” before he was crossing the room in quick strides, picking you off the floor and spinning you around over and over again.
His smile was the brightest that you have ever seen in your life, happiness and joy practically radiating off of him as he laughed and yelled and tried to clumsily kiss you.
You wholeheartedly laughed alongside him, feeling his happiness seeping through your skin, warming your very soul, when you suddenly feel your feet touch the ground again, and Fenrir dropping to his knees before you.
Looping his arms around your waist, Fenrir whispered then, his head hanging low and his voice trembling with self-doubt: “Say, will I be a good father?”
You stopped the tears threatening to fall from your eyes with difficulty as you gently stroked Fenrir’s head, firmly answering him: “I have no doubts.”
Fenrir tries really hard to adjust to his new responsibility, all the while keeping his funny, impulsive and unpredictable side intact. Can’t sleep because the baby is kicking too hard? How about a night stroll in the Black Territory with Cradle’s best bodyguard? Nausea and headaches are forcing you to stay in bed all day munching on a weird mixture of carrots and chocolate? Fenrir will make sure to finish up his patrols early, curl up beside you under the soft blankets, offer you his arm as a pillow and stay quietly with you, telling with his husky voice silly stories and dumb jokes.
You hope for the child to be a boy so he can inherit his father’s gorgeous pink eyes and hair while Fenrir openly brags about hoping for a girl so he can spoil her rotten for the rest of her life.
Whether it’s a boy or a girl, be sure that Fenrir will support you each step of the way, never straying from your side.
Jonah:
As soon as the words came out of your lips, Jonah loudly gasped, his gorgeous golden eyes turning shiny and glossy under the soft light, before he threw his hands on his face, covering whatever expression he was wearing at the moment.
You gently approached him, trying to softly coax him to reveal his face to you, when you heard the hushed sounds of muffled sobs echo in the empty room.
It was now your turn to gasp, words flowing out of your mouth before you could stop them: “Jonah, are you crying?”
“No I’m not!” The Queen of Hearts loudly refused your outrageous claim, but his voice trembled and cracked in the middle, betraying his overwhelming emotions. Jonah’s eyes are clearly glistening with tears as he finally removed his hands, lips hesitantly forming his next words:
“Can--Can I touch you?”
You sat on the bed, allowing Jonah to carefully caress your still-flat stomach, knowing it was still too early to feel anything. Yet Jonah still took his time to pour all of his love into patting your abdomen, eyes twinkling with newly born buds of bliss and happiness.
You were just about to tease your lover about his pouty expression when your lips were suddenly stolen into the sweetest kiss. The soft, loving touch of Jonah’s lips against your own told you just how much he was delighted by the news. You sighed happily as you melted into the kiss, accepting all of Jonah’s unsaid words.
Ladies, be ready to be simultaneously spoiled and suffocated to death by Jonah. Anything you desire, and I mean anything you show the slightest interest in, will be in your hands five seconds later. New clothes, baby clothes, new furniture, parenting books, snacks, foreign food and even rare fruits you felt like tasting all of a sudden, and EVERYTHING else are yours. All you have to do is ask, and Jonah will employ every single one of his soldiers (who are already eagerly fighting for the honor of serving their Queen and his wife) in order to satisfy you and leave you needing nothing.
There was this one night where at One o’clock in the morning, you desperately craved freshly baked cookies, straight out of the oven. You tried to hold it in, distract yourself with something else, but nothing worked. At that point, it was too late at night to go purchase your desired patisseries from a bakery, and you yourself were too exhausted to even stand, so Jonah, panicked and still dressed in his silky pajamas, rode his horse all the way to the Black Territory and dragged a half-asleep Luka to bake you some cookies at one in the morning.
Those cookies ended up being the best cookies you have ever tasted in your life.
Luka earned the right to be the baby’s godfather after that incident, even though Lancelot and Edgar were ready to offer anything they have to gain that position.
Jonah sobbed his heart out the day you both found out that you were pregnant with twins. Two boys. Luka was also present that day and although he hid his face behind his large scarf, you could still see fat tears streaming down his face as he warmly gazed at his brother.
Jonah took an oath on himself that day, an oath to fight his hardest so his two boys would grow up happy and healthy, surrounded by loving parents who will never, ever, force them to be something they do not wish to be, or try to plan their lives instead of them.
Jonah cannot express how happy he is to be blessed with such an amazing wife, who made his most desired dream come true.
#ikemen revolution#ray blackwell#fenrir godspeed#Jonah clemence#I went overboard with Jonah#!!#But I couldn't help it! I had SOO many ideas!#It's also one of my strongest headcanons that Jonah would be blessed with two boys 😍😍😍#It's Destiny's apology for making him go through a lot of hardships#and for seperating him from his brother#and Luka will DEFINITELY bake us cookies at One a.m#fight me on this!!!#thank you for patiently waiting for me to reopen my box my dear!!#I really hope you like these ❤
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I Grow Monstrous in Your Absence
Read on AO3
Listened to S5 trailer, had a moment, bon appétit. SPOILERS FOR S5 TRAILER.
Jon closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Even speaking feels like too much effort now, effort he could put into something else, effort that’s going to be useless, one way or another. He might as well humour Martin and explain himself.
“I told you. It’s gone. It’s all gone. There’s no more tea left.”
“… I’ll tell you what, I’ll pop into the village and see what I can find. You just wait here and… just wait, okay?”
It’s one of those moments when he’d usually snap. The irritation comes to him easily, more easily than even the Beholding, but instead, he laughs. It’s not a happy laugh, or a particularly pleasant one, but it’s something. “What? Are you worried I’ll go get myself turned into an even bigger monster while you’re gone?”
“Jon, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“I know. You’re too kind to say it, but the fact remains that this is the end. There’s no more tea anywhere. It vanished and it’s my fault.”
Martin sits down across the table from Jon and takes his hand into his. How can it be the end when Jon’s fingers fit into the gaps in between Martin’s so perfectly? “It’s just tea. For all the planning Elias put into this, it could be much worse. Tea ceased to exist, so what? This would maybe make a splash in the 19th century, but pretty much everyone drinks coffee now.”
There is that dear, familiar crease between Jon’s brows. “You don’t understand, tea is the only thing that keeps England going. Once England falls, it’s over for everyone and there will be no fixing this.”
Martin blinks. Beholding slips Jon a thought, a comparison. Martin really does look like his father, but he’s not leaving and, no, Jon doesn’t know what he did to deserve that, to endear himself to Martin so. Then, finally, he speaks: “England isn’t the centre of the universe. When... when you were talking about being an unchanging monster, did you mean that you now got the world view of a privileged Victorian man?”
Jon flinches, his hands flying to his face as his eyes widen in terror. “I… I’m not sure.”
His partner makes sure to keep his tone even, reassuring. “Let’s try. What do you think about helping the poor?”
The Archive scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s their own moral failings that cause them to...” His face turns ashen in terror before he can even finish. “Oh god, you’re right.”
Martin takes a deep breath, stands up and walks over to Jon. Then he wraps his arms around him and kisses the top of his head. “It’s much worse than I feared, but at least we know what we’re working with here. We’ll get through this.”
“We still have the original problem.”
“No, we don’t. Some people will be cranky. Elias… Jonah… that bastard will simply have to make do without tea and I don’t really care if his Victorian sensibilities suffer. I like chocolate better anyway.”
Jon buries his face in the welcoming warmth of Martin’s embrace, as if the closeness could restore some of his optimism, if he ever had any. “But I-”
Martin’s frame grows tense, as he carefully pulls away. Jon knows what his eyes look like clouded with the Lonely, but now they’re simply blue. Blue like the cornflowers in the fields outside. “Jon, I need to tell you something. I didn’t want to do this, but you don’t need tea.”
“What? Of course, I do, the tea you made me was sometimes the only thing that stopped me from firing everyone in the room and then myself.”
Martin shuts his eyes, almost painfully so, and Jon immediately misses the eye contact, the brief brush of souls. “I never made you tea, Jon. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand. You’re the only person who can make it the way I like it.”
“Just listen, okay? The first time I wanted to make you a cuppa, Elias took the last of it, right in front of me and… you were being a bit of an asshole that day, so Tim suggested we prank you and Sasha didn’t stop us and you looked like you liked it so much and-”
“What have I been drinking all those years?” Jon demands to know, while simultaneously wishing to forget this conversation ever took place.
“Hot milk with sugar and, like, a teaspoon of pepper. And pencil shavings. I didn’t know how to tell you, but I’m honestly shocked you didn’t realise it until now. We’ll be fine. The ritual will collapse as soon as Elias gets withdrawals.”
Jon went through all the stages of grief, and invented several more on his way from one second to another. “You scare me sometimes, Martin.”
“Good. I should. Care for your cup of hot, sweet pencil and pepper milk?”
“In a cat mug?”
“In a cat mug.”
My gift for everyone who's not ready to get hurt. Yes, all the ritual did was to make all tea disappear. Stay strong.
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22nd February >> Mass Readings (USA)
Feast of Saint Peter's Chair
(Liturgical Colour: White)
First Reading
1 Peter 5:1-4
As a fellow presbyter and witness to the sufferings of Christ.
Beloved: I exhort the presbyters among you, as a fellow presbyter and witness to the sufferings of Christ and one who has a share in the glory to be revealed. Tend the flock of God in your midst, overseeing not by constraint but willingly, as God would have it, not for shameful profit but eagerly. Do not lord it over those assigned to you, but be examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd is revealed, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.
The Word of the Lord
R/ Thanks be to God.
Responsorial Psalm
Psalm 23:1-3a, 4, 5, 6
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
In verdant pastures he gives me repose;
Beside restful waters he leads me;
he refreshes my soul.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Even though I walk in the dark valley
I fear no evil; for you are at my side
With your rod and your staff
that give me courage.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
You spread the table before me
in the sight of my foes;
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Only goodness and kindness follow me
all the days of my life;
And I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
for years to come.
R/ The Lord is my shepherd; there is nothing I shall want.
Gospel Acclamation
Matthew 16:18
Alleluia, alleluia.
You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church;
the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.
Alleluia, alleluia.
Gospel
Matthew 16:13-19
You are Peter. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven.
When Jesus went into the region of Caesarea Philippi he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” They replied, “Some say John the Baptist, others Elijah, still others Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” He said to them, “But who do you say that I am?” Simon Peter said in reply, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”
The Gospel of the Lord
R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
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Promise (Ethan Ramsey x MC)
Title: Promise
Words: 1,919
Book: Open Heart
Characters: Ethan Ramsey x MC
NOTE: Some of the characters portrayed in this story belong to Pixelberry Studios so the characters are borrowed from them; I don’t own “Open Heart” or any of the original characters.
Summary: This short piece takes place in Book 2. My MC is Maya García. After she joins the diagnostics team both Ethan and Maya have a hard time controlling their feelings for each other. After the Book 1 finale and the fact that MC now is part of the diagnostics team (and Dr. Ramsey is MC’s direct supervisor), I couldn’t stop asking myself how their relationship and dynamic will change after everything they’ve lived together. This is the result.
Hey everyone! Welcome to my page. The last year I’ve been obsessed with this app called Choices, and more recently I’ve fallen in love with the book Open Heart (especially with a certain grumpy doctor, aka Dr. Ethan Jonah Ramsey). After this Friday’s book finale I needed a sneak peek of Book 2, but let’s be honest it’ll probably be a while until we get the sequel. Therefore, I decided to take the matter in my own hands and write a little something mainly for my own entertainment. I’ve decided to share this small piece with all of you who are as invested in this book as myself. This is my first fanfic EVER, and I’m so excited to share it with all of you. If you decide to give it a try, THANK YOU!! Any constructive criticism and suggestions are more than welcome. I hope you enjoy it :)
______________________________________________________
Maya was sitting on the floor. Books and papers surrounded her, creating a spiral of confusion. She had been researching this case for more than 12 hours and she still couldn’t solve it. What was causing her patient’s chest pain? She had run all the possible tests and nothing seemed to show a possible cause. Even worse, she wasn’t even supposed to be working today. It was her free day and she had planned a relaxing day at her apartment. But, let’s be realistic. Her experience with Naveen’s case created in her a new passion. She had always wanted to help others; that was one of the reasons she became a doctor in the first place. However, this felt different. The adrenaline from solving an impossible case changed her completely. Every new case was a new adventure and she felt a necessity to solve the unsolvable. She was so concentrated reading a scientific journal that she jumped when the door was open abruptly. She raised her head to see the figure standing at the door.
“I’m sorry. I... didn’t know you would be here. I thought it was your day off.” Ethan stood by the door.
“It was, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this case. And when I realized I was already here surrounded by these,” Maya pointed to the papers around her.
“What are you doing here? I thought you enjoyed your coffee in your office.”
Ethan looked down at the cup of coffee he was holding in his hand and then back at her. For a moment he had forgotten about the coffee. That was the effect she had on him. When she was close she was everything he could think about. Her brown eyes. Her wavy hair and the way it fell on her shoulders. Her red lips, the bottom one slightly bigger than the other one. How brave she was and the passion that she had for her job. He realized he had been staring at her all this time.
“They’re finishing the construction happening next to my office and I hate the noise. I was looking for a quiet place and I thought this room was empty but it’s not… I’ll leave you alone… so you can continue working.” Ethan turned to leave.
“No, wait! I was going to take a break and… I wouldn’t mind having some company.” She smiled at him.
Ethan stopped at the door hesitating. Of course, she knew the effect she had on him. One hand still in the door handle and the other one holding his coffee refusing to look her in the eyes. Since Dr. Maya García had joined the diagnostics team their relationship was in a weird place. Ethan couldn’t have a relationship with her while he was her boss but he also couldn’t stop thinking about the times they had been together. How her hands felt on his skin. The warmth of her body close to his. The burning sensation of her kisses on his neck and back. He loved how she pronounced his name and the passion in her eyes whenever their eyes met. Working together the last couple of months wasn’t easy. There were some moments during the harder cases when he wanted to reach for her hand and squeeze it in reassurance. Other days when their case had a happy ending and he wanted to hug her and never let her go. But, of course, he never gave up to temptation. On the opposite, he tried to stay away from her as long as he could only interacting with her when it was necessary. Every moment with her not being able to actually be together killed him.
“Please, Ethan.”
Their eyes met. He looked at her at the sound of his name coming out of her lips. He took a deep breath and closed the door. Ethan walked to the middle of the room and sat next to her on the floor.
“Here,” Ethan said offering her the cup of coffee he was holding.
She looked at him for a moment, a smile growing in the corner of her mouth.
“Thank you.”
Ethan nodded. “So, how can I help you? Tell me what you’ve learned about the case...” he said while picking up some of the several papers scattered on the floor. Maya shook her head while she tasted the coffee.
“No... I had enough of this case tonight…” she said while removing the papers from his hand while another sip to his coffee, “I want to distract myself. Let’s talk about something else.”
“And what do you want to talk about?” A silence emerged between both of them. She stared at him studying his face.
“How was your day?” Maya finally asked. She was nervously playing with the cup in her hands.
Ethan raised his eyebrows. Did she not understand the pain that it caused him to be open with her? How much it hurt to expose his soul to her when they couldn’t be together? He analyzed the best way to answer her question without making it personal.
“I was in meetings most of the day. Then, I saw a few patients in the evening. The interns were a pain in the ass, as always.”
“Did you miss me? Because I miss you every day.” The confession surprised Ethan so much that he almost choked.
“Maya...” he began explaining.
“I know, I know.” She interrupted him. “We need to keep a professional relationship. But, how do you expect me to go on with my life after the moments we’ve shared. And I’m not talking only about the sex. Don’t get me wrong, it is amazing.” She could see a blush in Ethan’s cheeks. “But we’ve shared amazing moments. Losses and victories. Our greatest fears and our biggest dreams. How can I pretend that never happened? Is there a medical treatment to erase this connection between us?”
Ethan sighed. “There’s nothing I wish more than having the answer to all your questions,” he replied. “If it makes you feel any better, it is to me as painful as it is to you.” His hand moved involuntarily reaching for hers. Her long fingers squeezed his hand. They watched as their fingers interlaced.
“Will this ever end?” Ethan asked after a long moment of silence.
“Huh? What do you mean?” Maya asked. She had been distracted memorizing the warmth of his hand. Until this moment she hadn’t realized how close they were seating. It would only take a second for her to reach him if she wanted to.
“The pain. Will it ever stop?” Ethan insisted.
Maya could see the suffering in his eyes and feel the need for an answer in his voice. His greatest weakness was that he never allowed himself to be happy; he always insisted on torturing himself and she hated that. He was the best man she had ever met and he deserved the entire universe. She raised her other hand to touch his face. Ethan hesitated for a moment but he finally rested his cheek on her palm. Maya wanted to comfort him somehow, to let him know that she was there for him. That they shared the same suffering. That she would always belong to him. She left the coffee on the table next to them and leaned closer towards him. Their lips almost touching. Their breaths all over each other. She wanted to kiss him so bad that it hurt. But she preferred the pain to not feeling anything at all because that would mean that she didn’t care about him. She leaned in closer and closer. She saw the hesitation in his eyes, he was about to say something stupid. He would say that he was her boss and they were better as colleagues than anything else. She had a bright future ahead and he didn’t want her to waste her time with someone like him. He thought she was too good for him and he didn’t deserve her. That’s what he had been repeating himself as an excuse to why he didn’t act on his feelings. Before he could say something he would later regret, Maya grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her. Their lips, partly open, met in a kiss. They missed this. The warmth of their lips. How they fit perfectly with each other. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her away softly.
“We… really shouldn’t.” He said catching his breath. He had been holding his breath during the kiss, his mind wondering if this was the right thing.
“I’m… sorry.” She let her head fall down in defeat attempting to hide the tears falling down her cheeks.
He hated seeing her like this. He knew that she was the most amazing woman he had ever met and he couldn’t live with the fact that he was causing her pain. He would rather die than hurt her. He grabbed her cheeks catching her tears with his thumbs. He would do anything to erase her pain. Holding her head tight he pulled her towards him and kissed her. She was surprised by his actions but didn’t want to question her luck. She opened her mouth welcoming him and deepened their kiss. She grabbed his neck and pulled him closer. Ethan moaned. He grabbed her hips and pulled her over him so she was straddling him. His hands moving all over her body, going to her back and down to her legs. She enjoyed the feeling of his body under hers. His mouth moved from her lips, down to her jaw, and even lower to her neck. He bit her neck and she moved her hands to his hair playing with it. She wanted to remain in his arms forever. Maya moved her hips against his. Ethan groaned in response. He grabbed her butt and pulled her harder against him. They were both breathing faster and faster each time. Need growing between them. They both knew they shouldn’t be doing this, but something that felt so good couldn’t be wrong, right?
“CODE BLUE! CODE BLUE! Room 234!”
Loud voices outside the room brought them back to reality. They froze for a moment catching their breaths. Ethan looked down at his pager.
“I have to go.”
Will it end just like that? Will they go back to pretending like nothing happened just like the other times? He was analyzing her face. Ethan saw fear in her eyes. She didn’t have to tell him because he already knew what she was thinking. She was getting ready for his rejection. Ethan reached for his pocket. He took a deep breath.
“Here.”
“What is this?” Maya questioned confused by the set of keys that Ethan took out of his pants.
“I have to see a patient.” He kissed her again. “But you can wait in my apartment while I finish my shift. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“You promise?” She asked while grabbing the keys from his hand.
“I promise.”
She gave him one last kiss and he stood from the place where they had been sitting. He walked to the door and placed his hand on the door handle. Before opening the door he turned to look at her.
“I’ve missed you too. More than you can imagine.” He said as he winked at her and exited the room. A smile began growing on her face. A smile full of hope for the future. Is this even real? Will this finally be their happy ending?
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Castiel addresses his grief
This is chapter two of a new fic I have up based on 15X3 after Castiel leaves the bunker. Lots of raw angst and emotion and a step towards healing. Warning, this contains mentions of some domestic abuse and mention of a miscarriage.
You can find Chapter one on my ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21426580/chapters/51052330
Pairing: Castiel and Hannah
"Castiel…" Hannah murmured as she sat huddled on the end of the bed, draped in a blanket while Castiel finished bandaging the last of her wounds. She cradled her cup of hot chocolate while her bare, swollen red feet soaked in a hot pail of water. She felt warm, the memory of the long walk she had just endured beginning to fade.
"That's the basic summary of the last five years," Castiel explained as he put the bandages on the table and sat down beside her. "Lucifer had a son who became my son. I… loved him, Hannah. Like he was my own. He had nothing but good in him; there was no trace of Lucifer in him. He destroyed his soul, helping people, and then God… Chuck- our father- took him from me."
Hannah gazed at Castiel's face. The pain was so clearly etched in his eyes. Her initial reaction to all of this news was to be wary of this Nephilim, and it confused her why Castiel would ever allow such a thing to live, but as Castiel continued his story, she found herself feeling sad that she had never known him. It was evident to her what a profound impact the boy had had on the other angel, and the grief of his loss was still so raw.
"He was my son," Castiel murmured, dropping his gaze as his voice cracked ever so slightly. He said nothing for a moment, seemed to have to compose himself. When he did speak again, his voice was soft, heavy with emotion. "I know… I'm not supposed to feel this. I'm an angel… but I can't help it."
Hannah sighed and set the mug on the table and turned to him. She reached out and gently laid a hand on the top of his hand. He paused a moment before turning his hand over and gripping hers. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the two pairs of deep blue eyes met, and for a moment, a brief moment, Hannah felt as though they had both become entranced in each other's gaze. The depth of feelings and emotions she saw in his, and the reassurance and sympathy she hoped she conveyed in hers seemed to bind them both somehow together.
"You told me once how emotions can be a dangerous temptation," Hannah said slowly. "How it's easy to get caught up in your feelings. I remember. I remember how it felt working with you; the emotions slowly seeping their way into my being." She thought about the past and how it was emotions that led to her wanting to give Caroline up, letting her return to her husband. She thought she was doing the right thing, but as it turned out…
It was Hannah's turn to drop her gaze, to feel her own emotions. The hurt and pain Caroline was feeling were still writhing around inside of her, and she hadn't quite sorted it out yet. She felt Castiel squeeze her hand, and she glanced up. "Emotions can cause so much pain," she told him. "It would be easier to simply turn them off and not have to worry about them. But… after having felt them so profoundly, I don't think I can go back to the way I once was. Can you?"
"No, I can't," he admitted sincerely. Hannah could sense the emotions he was barely keeping contained. Not just for the loss of the Nephilim, but for everything. The past decade of hurt and trauma was suddenly too much for him to keep away, and it all came up.
"I only wanted to make things better," he said as tears began to trickle out of his eyes. "But no matter what I do, I always mess up, and everyone close to me gets hurt. I've done so many terrible things, I can't possibly make up for it but Jack… he was better than me. I wanted to make sure he was better than me."
His sad lament moved Hannah deeply. The pain and sorrow he had been through wasn't something she could easily make go away, but she needed to find a way to comfort him. To let him know he could confide in her.
Hannah glanced around the motel room. It was a small room with two beds, and warm air bellowed out from the wall heater under the window. It was late, and all that could be heard was the hum of the heater and Castiel's distraught breathing. Slowly, she took the blanket that he had draped around her off and set it aside. He watched her with interest as she stood up, got her feet out of the pail, and dried off before returning to him.
"Let me help you," she urged as she came to stand beside him. Watching her for a moment, realization dawned on his face, and he stood up, taking off his trench coat and black suit coat and hung them up. Then he took off his own shoes and crawled up further onto the bed, slipping under the blankets. She took the blanket she had and draped it over him, and then she crawled into bed with him and pulled him over, letting him rest his head on her chest. She held him tight in her arms.
"Now," she instructed. "Give me all your pain and your grief." Castiel lifted his head to look at her. There was surprise in his eyes as if he'd never considered anyone would ever permit him something he so obviously needed, a literal shoulder for him to cry on.
"It's so much," he admitted. "Everything. The leviathans, all the death, and destruction I've caused in heaven and on Earth, you…"
"Me?" she raised a brow, confused.
"You… how you died." He glanced away for a moment. "It was my fault." Hannah sighed as she remembered. Ephraim and Jonah, what had happened to Castiel. She felt the guilt inside of her over the situation.
"That wasn't your fault," she said slowly as she pulled him back to her, clutching his head to her chest like he was more precious to her than treasure. "It… it was Ephraim and Jonah's plan. I was against it, but they talked me into it… I should have been stronger. What they did to you… that was my fault."
Castiel said nothing, just lay his head on her chest, indulging in the intimacy between them. After a while, he murmured, his voice heavy again. "I have no one anymore, Hannah," he whispered. "My actions have left me alone. The Winchesters don't trust me, and everything I did was for them. Maybe I never truly belonged with them. I have been caught between them and heaven for so long, always walking the thin line between my friends and my own kind. I thought I could have both; now I don't have anything."
With that, Castiel couldn't hold back the emotions anymore. He buried his face in her chest, and Hannah responded by holding him tight. And he wept. He wept hard, everything he had endured, everything he'd been through, it all came out right there as his body trembled in her arms. His pain affected her so profoundly she felt tears slowly creeping into her own eyes as she let him cry on her. "Shh…" she cooed softly into his hair.
The hours passed as Hannah held the weeping angel, saying nothing, just holding him, rubbing his back, smoothing his hair, letting him get everything out. After a time, it began to rain again outside. The soft tapping of the rain falling on the window and roof added to the sounds of sorrow.
After many hours, Castiel finally lifted his head to look down into her face. His eyes were swollen and red as he squinted down at her. "Thank you," he offered. "No one's ever…"
"They should have," she responded. There was a pause between them before he took a deep sigh.
"You… should sleep," he told her. "If you only have half your grace, you need rest." She shook her head and looked away. She began to think about Caroline about her vessel's pain and how she had been avoiding it.
"Hannah," he murmured as he reached over and brushed a strand from her hair. "What is it, what's wrong?"
Now it was her turn to feel emotion. She tried to sort out her thoughts and feelings. "If I sleep, she'll find me," she began. "Caroline…"
"Wait, I thought you said she was willing," he responded as he shifted in bed so that his head was propped up on his elbow as he lay on his side to face her.
"She did," Hannah began, laying flat on her back beside him and squeezing her eyes shut. "But only because she had no other choice."
"Hannah, tell me," Castiel urged. "Tell me what you are feeling."
Hannah pursed her lips and sorted out her thoughts before returning his gaze. "Caroline has not had the best life," she began. "And it's all my fault. What happened to her, it was all because of me." She paused a moment before continuing. "I thought I was returning her to her husband out of compassion. I felt sorry for what I'd put her through over the year, and I wanted to give her her life back."
"Go on," Castiel encouraged as he reached over and lay a hand on her hands, which rested on her torso. He waited patiently for her to continue.
"It wasn't bad at first," Hannah began. "He was just happy to have her home. But as time went on, the trauma she suffered while she was with me began to cause trouble. Remember when we first met?"
Castiel nodded. "In the warehouse with all the angels Gadreel murdered," he answered. Hannah shuddered as she remembered it.
"He… hurt me, he tortured me, and he killed everyone else right in front of me," she began. "Caroline had never been through something like that before, and over the year, she endured so much more when we were together, and when she was finally allowed to return, she found she couldn't adjust. She had nightmares, flashbacks, a lot of trouble."
"I'm sorry," Castiel replied. "I know full well how traumatizing it can be. My own vessel, Jimmy Novak, I don't think I can ever forgive myself for what he went through."
"Well, Joe was even worse," Hannah began. "He was patient at first, but then things changed. He was paranoid she'd leave him again. He'd spend late nights out getting drunk and then coming home and taking things out on her. He blamed her for every little minor thing, and she felt she had to endure it because she felt guilty and responsible. She tried to tell him the truth about angels and possession, but of course, he didn't believe her. He claimed she was making it up to avoid facing the fact that she'd left him for another- for you."
Hannah swallowed when she saw the flash of guilt in Castiel's eyes and the look of sympathy as he realized where this story was heading. And Hannah felt overwhelmed with emotion. She sucked in a breath as the lump in her throat got bigger, and tears moistened her eyes. She had to pause to compose herself, not sure she could continue, but somehow she found the voice too.
"It wasn't terrible at first," she gasped out. "When she'd go out, he'd ask her where he'd been. He started checking her phone, her credit card. He was convinced that she'd leave him again, so he began to restrict how long she could be out, she controlled who she was with. Before I met her, she worked at a local library, and eventually, she was forced to quit because he couldn't even stand her to be away from the house for more than a few hours.
"Then, about two years after… me… she found out she was pregnant. She thought he'd be happy, but all he did was accuse her of sleeping with another. He was convinced you were still around…"
Castiel scoffed as he thought about that. "I had no idea," he said. Hannah nodded. She knew the truth, after all.
"She lost the child, the stress and the misery she was under was too much," she continued. "And that's when he really began to make her suffer. She quickly became a prisoner in her own home. He'd keep her inside; he put cameras all over, he'd even gone so far as to put bars on the windows and doors. She was locked up all day when he went to work. And when he came home, he'd beat her. For the smallest infraction, for not cooking dinner correctly, for having watched television for too long while he watched her on the camera from work. Sometimes he would beat her simply because he had a bad day at work.
"Whenever she tried to protest, he'd tell her she brought it all on herself for what she'd done." By now, Hannah couldn't contain her own emotions. She let out a sob, tears streaming down her face as she gathered everything she had left to finish the story. "When I found her, she was in the kitchen bleeding to death," she said. "He'd finally decided to be rid of her, and he'd stabbed her. I… I managed to heal her despite my diminished grace, and I managed to get us away, but now her pain, her misery, its all part of me. And whenever I close my eyes, her pain is there. The pain I caused…"
Now it was Castiel's turn to care for Hannah. Saying nothing, he simply reached out for her, and she gratefully moved into his arms, burying her face in his arms and crying.
Nothing else was said that night. Nothing needed to be said. Castiel had let out all the hurt and pain he'd felt and so desperately needed to release, and now Hannah was doing the same. There was an unspoken bond between them now — a bond based on mutual emotional hurt. Castiel was the only one who could understand her pain, other angels cared very little for their vessels, but she could never erase the pain and the torment she'd caused to Caroline, and she knew he felt the same way.
Hannah knew that neither of them was finished feeling pain. They both had a long way to go before they could feel the healing they both so desperately needed. But they knew they could do it together. She needed him, and he needed her, they were each other's rocks, the shoulder each of them needed.
What Hannah didn't realize was that, as she finally drifted off to sleep in Castiel's arms, he stayed awake. He lay in bed beside her, watching her, guarding her. He was afraid she'd disappear, that she was still one of Chuck's cruel tricks and that she'd be gone any minute and he'd be alone again. He'd watch over her tonight, tomorrow, and every night from here on out just to be sure she wasn't just an illusion.
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