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papercorgiworld · 1 year

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The headmaster’s special assignment: you

f!slytherin!reader x Sebastian Sallow

A little bit of fluff with a smutty ending! So beware!

You can safely read until the smut warning.

A/N: Feedback is always welcome

First week back at Hogwarts and Sebastian had already earned himself detention twice. It was probably a record and the reason he was currently walking the stairs to the headmaster’s office. He swallowed as professor Black looked up at him. “Ah. Mister Sallow.” Sebastian nodded. “You have been a troublemaker from day one, but it gets worse every year.” Sebastian forced an apologizing smile.

“I’m starting to think Hogwarts isn’t the right place for you.” Sebastian's eyes widened. No, this could not be happening. “But! Headmaster-'' Professor Black shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it. You get one last chance to do it right. And a special assignment from me.” Sebastian was both surprised and curious. “What do you mean with a special assignment?” “It concerns my niece: y/n /l/n.” The headmaster explained. Sebastian was shocked. You, the quietest and sweetest Slytherin were related to this man. “She’s my sister’s daughter and I hold her very dear.” Black informed Sebastian with a stern voice. “Of course. How can I help?” Sebastian offered, trying to sound as responsible and trustworthy as possible.

“I need you to take her to the Hogsmeade dance. Watch over her. Make sure she has a good time. And, most importantly, drop her off safely.” Sebastian had several questions, but the impatient look on the headmaster’s face kept Sebastian from asking any.

***

The next few weeks Sebastian turned your world upside down. Suddenly he noticed you, everywhere and all the time. He would offer to be your partner all the time, you would study together and when in the common room he would always sit near you. You didn’t ask any questions about his sudden interest in you. You had had a crush on Sebastian since fourth year, so you were all butterflies and no brains.

Though Sebastian was clearly on a mission he had started to enjoy your company. He had always known you to be sweet and smart, but there was more to you. You, like him, shared an interest in the dark arts and you turned out to be quite the dueling talent. However, Sebastian was a simple man and couldn’t look past the fact that during the last summer you had changed… physically. You were always good looking, but now he had to loosen his tie every time you came a bit too close.

Sebastian and you had teamed up for a Crossed Wands duel and just won. In excitement Sebastian threw his arm around your shoulder. He quickly realized he was way too close to you for his own comfort. Your warmth, your soft smell and your smile. It made him drift off to a place where it was just the two of you. Instead reality hit, it was Lucan that pulled Sebastian out of his stream of thoughts about you. “Well done to both of you. You two make quite the team.” You smiled and a little blush creped up your cheeks.

Sebastian noticed, he had noticed more then once, that you always blushed when people referred to the both of you as a team or pair. He had a suspicion that you liked him. So, why was it so hard to gather the courage to ask you to the dance. He had to do it, Black expected it from him. Part of him did also want to spend more time with you and yet asking you out for the Hogsmeade dance felt out of character for him. He led his arm drop from your shoulders as you went to pick up your bags.

“Did you already write that paper on Wiggenweld?” You asked to make conversation, as you noticed Sebastian was a bit out of it.

Sebastian simply nodded. He was acting rather odd today. He was quiet and constantly in deep thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?” You said as you took a step towards him, screening his face for any clue as to what was on his mind.

He laughed nervously and tousled his hair a few times. ‘Be smug. Be cool.’ Sebastian gave himself a pep talk.

Ominis who had only just joined you two immediately picked up on what’s going on. A wide smile appeared on his face. “Do you know what’s going on with Seb?” You asked Ominis as he obviously knew more than you.

“I'm pretty sure that he’s trying to ask you to the Hogmeade dance… but failing.” Ominis said without mercy, putting Sebastian on the spot. Your mouth fell open, your mind exploding with excitement, was Sebastian really going to ask you?

“Wha-ah…” Sebastian stuttered, going from slightly pink to full red. He noticed people staring, they clearly heard Ominis. ‘Ominis will pay for this’ and with that thought Sebastian regained control over himself. "Yes. I wanted to ask you.. if you would like to go with me… to the dancing… thing?”

“Smooth.” Ominis said with a cheeky smile.

You laughed at Ominis’ comment, making the whole ordeal very embarrassing for Sebastian. When you noticed Sebastian was really dying on the inside you reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “I would love to go with you.” You gave him a kiss on the cheek that felt as soft as a feather.

“We should probably go. Potions will soon start.” You said trying to play it cool and calming the butterflies in your tummy.

***

The evening of the Hogsmeade dance went terribly wrong. You were all dressed up and ready to go. You headed towards your meeting spot and you were about to turn the last corner when you overheard Ominis and Sebastian talk. Ominis left and Sebastian turned around to see you peeking around the corner. He smiled his most charming smile at you, but you would not have it.

“You are unbelievable! You only asked me to the Hogsmeade dance to get out of detention?!” You yelled furiously. Sebastian was shocked, but he did not panic.

“To not get expelled.” Sebastian pointed out calmly.

You wanted to yell and curse, but you couldn’t find the words. So, you simply turned and headed back to the common room.

“Y/n, don’t go!” Sebastian ran after you. “I’m still the same Sebastian. We could still have fun at the dance.”

“Sebastian, you don’t understand. I thought you wanted to go to the dance with me, because you liked me.” You confessed feeling, you were so embarrassed. “So, be honest with me. If it wasn’t for my uncle’s request would you have asked me?”

Sebastian looked down at his shoes. “No, I wouldn’t.” You sighed as you heart ached, this night was a nightmare. “I don’t want to go the stupid dance. I want to take you the Undercroft and show you a ‘really’ good time.” Sebastian confessed, while he continued to study his shoe.

“What’s the Undercroft?” You asked and Sebastian looked up. Only a moment later you realized what else he had said. “What do you mean with a ‘really’ good time?”

“I can show you.” Sebastian answered with a smile. You were not quite sure if that was an answer to the first or the last question, but it didn’t really matter.

(❗️warning: smut ahead)

“This is the Undercroft.” He said as you both entered the room. “Curious.” You said as you took in the mysterious room. You looked at Sebastian with hungry eyes. Suddenly he pushed you into one of the pillars and lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around him and he started kissing you with fierce lust. One hand feeling up your breast, while his other hand slides under your dress to squeeze your ass. You completely surrendered to your instincts, pushing yourself into him and tangling your fingers in his hair.

You pushed him a bit off of you. “Are you sure no one will come up here?” You asked, while you took in his hungry look. “Do you think I would undress the headmaster’s niece here if I wasn’t entirely sure.” He said with a smug face while loosening his tie. “Undressing?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at his arrogance. With that question he turned you around and started biting and kissing you neck. You had to steady yourself against the pillar. Carefully he undid your dress and it elegantly slipped over your skin, falling on the floor.

At the sight of you in only your panties Sebastian led out something between a moan and groan. His pants were getting too tight. He pushed his middle against your ass to make sure you knew exactly how desperately he wanted you. Like the look in his eyes hadn’t already given that away. He kneaded your breast gently and kissed your neck like he owned you. You whipped your head back and allowed yourself to enjoy how well he was treating you. “Having a good time?” He asked in a whisper. “Could be better.” You said as you suggestively brought his hand to your panties.

“Demanding.” Sebastian noted as he smiled against your neck. “Your Hogwarts carrière depends on my night, remember.” You pointed out. Sebastian simply huffed and turned you around. He took off his shirt, giving himself some much needed air and you a good view. Your hand shamelessly feeling his chest. His lips quickly found a nipple to play with and his fingers were tormenting you as he ever so slowly entered a finger between your folds. You softly bucked your hips making clear to Sebastian that you were in need of more.

You moaned as Sebastian did all the right things to your body. His fingers found the right spot, making you arch your back. He smiled in amusement as he saw you surrender to him. Pulling his hair you brought his lips to yours demanding a kiss and he answered with more passion than you expected. He deserved more than he was getting right now and you wanted more of him anyway. Your hand slipped from his neck, to his chest and eventually his pants. He rubbed himself against your hand and you smiled against his lips.

He pulled out his fingers, kissing you reassuringly and picking you up to bring you to a sofa. He had once conjured the thing for comfortable reading and lonely moments that required his hand to do the work, never thinking he would ever get to lay there with someone, leave alone some as perfect as you. He put you down gently and took his pants off. As he helped you remove the one piece of clothing you were still wearing he worried how long he would last. You were driving him mad just laying there.

You brought his face to yours and kissed him gently, while your hand moved to his member giving it a few strokes. You noticed how he closed his in an attempt to keep control. His fingers once again moved between your legs, this time to simply check if you were ready for him, because he sure was ready for you. Once he confirmed your wetness he aligned himself perfectly with you. Though he looked hungry as placed himself between your legs, he looked up at you for a moment with a gentleness in his face. “May I?” He whispered. “Please.” You begged, still moaning under the control of his fingers. He entered rather forceful, his lust for the beauty in front of him taking control. He gave you a moment to adjust as he kissed you softly. While he leaned on one arm by your side, his free hand played with your breast and nipple. He started trusting at an eager pace and observed every noise and move you made to make sure he was pleasing you right.

Every time Sebastian hit your sensitive spot you opened you spread your legs a little bit more as a way of begging him for more. As he felt himself get closer he was rougher on you, squeezing your ass as he grabbed a hold of you to mercilessly pound into you. As if everything he did to your body wasn’t pushing you enough, his panting and moaning were sure to push you over the edge. As you were losing all control over your body you tried to hide your face in an attempt to keep some of your dignity as you lay there under him as a moaning naked mess. However, Sebastian would not have it. He quickly cupped your cheek and pecked your lips. As he noticed your embarrassment and how much control he had, an amused smile formed. He kissed your neck and whispered in your ear. “Come for me.” As you grabbed a handful of his hair to keep him close to you he listened to the most beautiful sound escaping your lips. Best assignment ever. Sebastian thought as he released himself.

As you both lay there tangled on the sofa, catching your breath, your mind started to wonder. For a straight A student you really had done a stupid thing. Sebastian was your long time crush, but you were just an assignment. You had been way to eager following him to this Undercroft. A sweet kiss on your cheek pulled you out of your thoughts. A smile replaced your worries. You allowed yourself to enjoy his warmth for as long as it would last.

Sebastian still hadn’t slipped out and just lazily lay half on top of you still somewhat supporting himself so he wouldn’t crush you. While it was taking a lot of him he tried to keep his eyes open and enjoy the view. “We should probably move.” You softly spook with hesitation in your voice. Sebastian nodded and you untangled yourself from him. Hating the feeling of him not inside of you and his warmth not all over you. You sat on the sofa shamefully looking for pieces of clothing, when Sebastian gently stroked your back. “Yeah. I should probably still take you that dance.” A smile tugged at his lips as you turned around with surprise all over your face. “You know, we need an alibi for this evening.” He kissed your shoulder as you again turned away from him. Couldn’t he just admit he wanted to spent more time with you. Nope, Sebastian Sallow was already planning your wedding, but it would take weeks before he would admit to you that you were more than an assignment from Headmaster Black.

On your way to Hogsmeade Sebastian reached out for your hand and squeezed it. You smiled, wondering if Sebastian’s assignment was really your uncle’s idea. Maybe it was your mother’s idea? However, neither would be pleased with the way it played out. But you definitely were.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow smut #sebastian sallow x slytherin!reader #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow oneshot #papercorgiworldwritings

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sebastianswallows · 1 year

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Beautiful memories — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, just a lot of angst (eventually there will be fluff and smut, but in later chapters)

— WORDCOUNT: 2.7k

— A/N: This fic is for a prompt by @pugsnotdrugs92, and I was also asked to write a similar fic by at least one anon.

Sadly, since she gave me that prompt, Pugs has deleted her blog. I have just learned this tonight and I am... pretty damn upset, I'll say that (not at her of course 💗, but at what caused it).

I will just say that if you get hate from anyone, block them, block indiscriminately until you have peace. I hope that Pugs (and anyone who deleted their blog as part of this mess) will make an account on this hellsite again one day <3

Anyway! On with the fic. Hope you enjoy it, my dears 🌺

Nobody had any idea who turned Sebastian in. It came so unexpectedly that they almost didn’t believe it when he happened. After all, it had been two years since Solomon’s death, and everyone in Feldcroft believed he died in his sleep.

“I know it isn’t me,” she said tearfully to Ominis one day, “and I know it isn’t you.”

“And it wasn’t Anne either,” said Ominis with a shake of his head.

“Are you sure? She still isn’t speaking to Sebastian.”

“She protected him this whole time, why would she report him to the ministry now? She might not forgive Sebastian, but she wouldn’t do this to him…”

Their suspicions fell on Leander, or the goblins, or any number of rivals Sebastian had made, but none of their suspects were likely to even know the truth about what happened that day in the catacomb. It therefore stood to reason that someone had overheard them speaking about it at some point, but that did little to narrow it down — for all they knew, one of the portraits had heard them and reported it to the Headmaster.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter who told the Aurors about it. The trio rushed through their N.E.W.T.S. half-heartedly, with Sebastian unsurprisingly scoring lower than he ever had, and in their spare time they spoke of nothing but the upcoming trial.

They’d even arranged for a solicitor for Sebastian, and visited him via floo in London, but he only spoke to his client in private. And every time Sebastian walked out of the wizard’s office, he looked more discouraged than the last.

The trial took place during summer, right after their 7th year ended. Both she and Ominis attended it every day. Imelda came sometimes as well, and Poppy, and Lucan — even Garreth attended on two occasions. He’d never liked Sebastian much, but he seemed to put aside his feelings throughout all of this.

“They don’t mean to send him there, do they?” he whispered as they sat outside the courtroom one sweltering afternoon.

“Where else?” said Imelda. “They closed all the other wizarding prisons centuries ago.”

“But he’s supposed to have done it while he was still a student…”

“What d’you expect? That they’ll give him detention for murder?”

“No, but…”

“You don’t think he really did it, do you, Imelda?” asked Poppy, leaning over Garreth.

“He didn’t,” said Ominis without even glancing their way.

“That’s right,” she said from beside Ominis. “Sebastian’s done nothing wrong.”

The trial went badly almost from the start. The judge was a grey old wizard in a funny wig, and there was no jury to speak of. He seemed to treat the death of a former Auror, even one of such ill repute as Solomon, quite seriously. The Prosecution leaned into that every chance they got.

Anne was called to give testimony in the first week, and she confessed under oath what she had found when she reached the catacombs, which was enough to shock the court. Sebastian’s friends took courage from the fact that she had not actually seen what killed Solomon, but it was only a matter of the judge drawing a line between a quick succession of events.

Ominis was called to the stand as well, but lied shamelessly. Even the threat of Veritaserum from the Prosecution didn’t sway him. He knew none of them would dare submit a Gaunt to that — a rare occasion of his family name amounting to something. However, him being Sebastian’s oldest friend cast doubt upon his entire deposition…

And then, she was called to give testimony as well. Unlike Ominis, she was not sure she could afford to lie, but nothing could get her to betray Sebastian.

All that she could remember was that Solomon attacked the both of them, and both she and Sebastian felt quite threatened by him, and then somehow, between the flying curses and roving Inferi, Uncle Solomon fell dead. But that happened, after all, more than two years ago, Your Honour, and it was in a dark and gloomy cave — and oh, what were they doing there? Objection. Relevance?

Ominis and the others congratulated her on well she held her own, but deep down, she felt like she had let her best friend down — her statement didn’t put the blame on Sebastian, but neither did it exonerate him.

By the time the trial was approaching the end, their former classmates had stopped coming, and only she and Ominis were left.

“He looks so —”

“I know,” said Ominis, not wanting to hear her describe him. This was on the last day, and the judge would give the verdict.

Guilty. Six months in Azkaban.

The courtroom reverberated with murmurs from the crowd — some in approval, others in outrage.

It was a horrible sentence to hear, but it was not as bad as their worst fears — people were often given life imprisonment for the Unforgivables. Fortunately, in Sebastian’s case, there was not enough conclusive evidence either way. Still, if they were to appeal, it would take longer than six months to even have a new judge assigned to the case, so they were left with no choice but to accept it.

As the Aurors led Sebastian away, she and Ominis stood together and called out useless encouragements to their friend, telling him to have courage, to be strong, have faith that he would soon be free, but he went with the guards without looking back at them…

Most of their former classmates were shocked but seemed to think the six-month sentence would pass quickly. They knew Azkaban was pretty horrible and could remember a few things from their DADA class, but none of them was truly educated on the nature of Dementors. Ominis was. He’d been in their presence when he and his father went to visit an uncle of his who’d been sentenced for murdering a muggle. He claimed it was the worst experience he’d ever had in his life — worse than Crucio, in its own way. He still remembered how the despair lingered inside him for days.

And as time passed, she became aware of something lingering within herself as well…

By the fourth month, she had to use concealment charms around her waist when she went out in public. Ominis figured it out on his own — it was probably that echolocation spell he used to get around. He’d merely been suspicious at first, but by the fifth month…

“Can anyone else see?!”

“No, and they won’t if you just stop —”

“But this could ruin your reputation!”

“Don’t you think I know that?!”

“I can’t believe you! How c—”

“Ominis, shut up,” she hissed.

“But you —”

“It’s Sebastian’s!”

“… Oh. I suppose that makes it better, then.”

From then on, Ominis supported her and helped her in any way he could — which admittedly wasn’t much, as he was still getting used to living on his own after being freed from his family’s clutches. And either way, the first few months were gentle enough on her that she could cope well enough on her own. The only help she needed was preparing her small flat to host two people — and eventually three — which meant some creative furniture transfiguration to fit everything in too small a space.

Christmas arrived in the meanwhile, then the New Year. They had tried writing to him every month by then, but the authorities kept sending their letters back — none were allowed for fear of concealed enchantments, they said, and no visitations were allowed either for lower-class prisoners. It broke her heart to know him all alone throughout those rotten months and all through the holidays. Neither she nor Ominis found it in them to celebrate anything that year…

Sebastian was released in February. They wouldn’t be allowed on the island of Azkaban, but they could see him at the Ministry, where he would be transported before he was officially freed.

She and Ominis got there at sunrise, and waited for hours.

Sebastian’s assigned solicitor couldn’t be there, as he had another case, but he sent a house elf to sign the release form in his name. Anne hadn’t come either, but that was hardly a surprise…

The two of them sat alone in a busy hallway, watching witches and wizards pass through — some going in, some going out — until finally, late in the afternoon, the Auror at the front desk told them that inmate Sallow would be arriving within minutes.

“Here, here, they said this will be the exit,” she said, pulling on Ominis’ sleeve.

Two large wooden doors lay open out of which a long dark hallway extended like a neck, and on either side were doors being shut and open of ministry workers travelling through. There was constantly a small crowd of people darkening that space even further.

“I think that’s him,” she said, standing on the tips of her toes when she spotted a dark ruffled head of hair.

“Alright, stay calm,” said Ominis, taking her hand to settle her. Since he’d realised that she was pregnant, he was instinctively more protective.

“Oh, it is! It is him!” she said with tears in her happy voice.

Sebastian was led out of one of those side doors — dressed in a grey and black prisoner’s uniform, his hands and feet chained, terribly thin and tired and bent at the back, and looking as if he hadn’t slept for days…

“Sebastian!” she called out, waving to him with the hand that wasn’t in Ominis’ grasp. “Over here!”

He looked up slowly, as if doubting that he’d heard his name called. His eyes searched blearily through the crowd ahead, not really focusing anywhere, but then they fell on her. She grinned brightly when she caught his gaze.

“Y-you came?” he said, looking at the two of them like they were a dream come true.

“Of course,” she said.

“Surely you didn’t expect anything else,” grinned Ominis.

“I… I need to go somewhere, they’re taking me to… to…” He didn’t have time to explain before Aurors led him around the corner and to another room, for processing.

“We’ll be here,” she called out after him, “we’ll wait for you!”

“How does he look?” whispered Ominis. “He sounded quite weak.”

“He looks… the way he sounded,” she said, “but he’ll be alright… He has to be. We’ll make sure of it.”

Less than thirty minutes later, Sebastian stepped back outside. He was now dressed the way he was when they arrested him: a faded green sweater and black trousers with worn old leather shoes. The clothes hung on his lanky frame, his face was all angles and shadows, and he looked as if he hadn’t had a wash in the whole six months. He was, of course, without his wand as well — they’d broken that after his sentencing.

But there was a still little light still left in his eyes, and it shone when he saw his friends again. He called out her name and Ominis’, and walked toward them with feeble brisk steps.

“I can’t believe it,” he grinned weakly, his steps growing bolder the closer he got to his friends. “I never thought —”

But then he noticed their joined hands, and her swollen stomach, and it nearly stopped him in his tracks. He only caught the sight for a second before she let go of Ominis and rushed to embrace him.

“Seb,” she cried out as she jumped into his arms. She clung to his neck like a lifeline. “I’ve missed you so much…”

“I’ve… missed you too,” he said, his voice low and uncertain.

She buried her face in his neck while Sebastian’s eyes fell to Ominis — who embraced him too from the other side in an uncharacteristic display of affection, before he stood back timidly.

“How… erm, how are you?” he asked with a nervous smile, feeling more happy than he cared to admit, and relieved to have his friend back in one piece.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” said Sebastian. Gently, he dropped the girl from his arms and slowly pulled away.

“Of course,” she said, wiping her tears and stepping back, but keeping his hand clasped in hers. “You don’t have to. You don’t have to say anything. We just came to take you home. It’s alright now… You’re free, you’re finally back. We’ve missed you so much…”

“Home?” said Sebastian, looking between her and Ominis coolly. “Whose home is that?”

“Well… whichever one you want,” she said. “Yours or mine or…”

“I don’t think I’m ready to see Feldcroft again,” said Sebastian. “But I wouldn’t want to… impose on either of you.”

“What?” frowned Ominis. “Don��t be stup— I mean, don’t worry about that, Sebastian.”

“Oh, is there something to worry about?” he asked.

“Well —”

“We don’t need to discuss that —”

“— here.”

“— now.”

“… I see.”

“Don’t concern yourself with anything,” she smiled, stepping up to him again and embracing him loosely. “Let’s leave this horrible place first…”

They made their way out of the ministry building and through the cold London streets toward Diagon Alley, and his friends talked to him excitedly about the things that had happened: what their former classmates were doing, what they knew about Anne, even the latest Quidditch matches.

They probably felt less cheerful than they seemed, but their enthusiasm was overflowing as they prattled on about all the normal things people their age should care about, almost as if nothing bad had happened at all. They laughed, and smiled, and rubbed his back, and all the while there was in Sebastian’s gait much of the same imprisoned and defeated look as there had been when he was led out of the courtroom at his sentencing.

“We wrote to you while you were there,” she said as they approached the Leaky Cauldron.

“But the damned guards never delivered them,” said Ominis.

Sebastian listened in silence, and they tacitly agreed it was because of what he had been through. He would open up to both of them in time, they were certain…

They decided to have lunch at the Cauldron since neither of them had eaten anything since morning — and they didn’t even wish to think of the food in Azkaban. They ordered sausages and eggs and mashed potatoes and a great big serving of pickled pumpkin.

Sebastian ate the least out of the three of them — and what he didn’t finish, she devoured. Ominis hid his chuckle behind a cough, while Sebastian could barely look at her. If she noticed it, she didn’t say. She just kept smiling and laughing along with Ominis…

More than ever in Azkaban, he wished he could dig a hole for himself through which to disappear. The Leaky Cauldron was noisy and crowded, the smell of food made his stomach turn, and every scrape of a chair was like a scratch across his brain. Even sitting down was uncomfortable, his muscles too thin and his back too weak to hold him. He moved uncomfortably from one position to another, and let his friends prattle on to fill the emptiness between them.

After almost an hour, they decided to leave, and Sebastian nodded in agreement.

“I’m seeing someone at the ministry next Wednesday about a position,” said Ominis as they walked toward the fireplace. “But I can stop by afterwards if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” she said. “You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“Do you have enough chocolate at home? I can bring some more.”

“Shelves full of it,” she laughed. “But more is always a good idea. I suspect we’ll need it.”

“Well, I’ll bid you two goodbye for now, then,” said Ominis as he waved them off, blissfully oblivious to what was going through Sebastian’s mind.

“Goodbye,” she said with a tearful smile, letting go of Sebastian for a brief while to hug their friend once more.

“I’ll let you know before I arrive on Wednesday.”

“Not to worry, Ominis. We’ll be alright… Everything will be alright now.”

“I hope so…”

“And good luck with your interview!”

“Thank you… Although I’m not sure I want it.”

“Thank you, Ominis,” said Sebastian tiredly. “For… everything.”

“Don’t be silly,” he smiled. “I’m glad to have you back. We both are. Just focus on getting well again…”

Sebastian nodded, not feeling that any of their kind words were true. He disappeared in the green flames with her, wishing for once to not appear on the other end.

#Sebastian Sallow #Ominis Gaunt #hl #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Sebastian Sallow imagine #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow x reader #pugsnotdrugs92 #I miss you 😭#sswallow;made a thing #sswallow;fanfics #fanfic;memories

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fog-and-rust · 9 months

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Hogwarts Legacy Incorrect Quotes Part 7 (feat. my Hufflepuff!MC, Ellie)

Zenobia: I'm going to be an adult in 4 years and I only have a vague idea of what I'm going to do.

Ellie: I’m gonna be an adult in less than a year and I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.

Professor Garlick: I'm an adult and I don't know what I'm doing with my life.

Ominis: Three types of people.

***

[After summer break]

Ellie: *running towards Ominis with open arms*

Ominis: *moves out of the way*

Ellie: Hey, why'd you move?!

Ominis: I thought you were going to attack me.

Ellie: I was going to hug you!

Ominis: Why would you hug me?

Ellie: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

***

Lenora: Something tells me Ellie's going to be a bit more unhinged today...

Ellie, with armful of Chinese Chomping Cabbages: Leave me be, cousin Leander isn't here to stop me, I'm going feral.

[A few moments later]

Garreth, pointing a camera at Ellie: There she is, our precious cinnamon scone.

Ellie, leading her little army of cabbages and chasing Puffskein Dunkein: What-?

***

Imelda: Madam Kogawa asked me to tell you about your new assignment, but I think it might make you jump from Astronomy Tower again.

Ellie: Just say it quick, like ripping off a band-aid.

Imelda: You have to teach Ominis how to fly on a broom.

Ellie: ... put the band-aid back on.

***

Ellie: In Garreth's defense, I’ve done some pretty dumb stuff even before I tried his latest concoction.

***

Ellie, in Headmaster's Office: I'll write Professor Black a friendly note. Dear... Incompetent... Dumbass...

***

Leander: I don’t care what anyone thinks about me.

Ellie: Ok.

Leander: Wait, why such a muted reaction? Did that not sound cool?

***

[Beasts are like Pokemons, gonna catch them all]

Ellie: Hey, you want a tarot reading?

Duncan: Those are Beasts cards.

Ellie: You got a Golden Snidget.

Duncan: ...

Ellie: It means 'you're fucked'.

***

[Let's speculate on other games]

Ellie, setting down a card: Sorting Hat.

Amit, pulling out an Arithmancy card: +4.

Poppy, pulling out a Beasts card: Grindylow, I choose you!

Leander, trembling: What are we playing?!

***

Leander: Can we talk about that howlers you sent?

Amit: All it says is, "I'm back on my idiocy".

Ellie, shrugging: The people need to know.

***

Richard Jackdaw: Don't joke about murder. I was murdered once and it offends me.

***

Leander: Ellie and I were at Summoner's Court, and Duncan flew by and shouted at us.

Ominis: What did she do?

Leander: She chased him to Ravenclaw tower, and broke into the Common Room, and-

Ellie: *dropping from above, casting Levioso on herself* Who wants a new broom seat?

***

Ellie: Garreth is a precious angel who’s never done anything wrong in his entire life!

Leander: Never done anything wrong?! He set our dormitory on FIRE!

***

Ellie: Where is that blasted Daedalian key?

Amit: Ellie, Zenobia and Lucan are around, can you say it a little nicer?

Ellie: May I ascertain the whereabouts of the LAST BLASTED DAEDALIAN KEY?!

***

Ellie: Your potion station is in the bathroom?

Garreth: Leander says this is the perfect place for my work. I’m just now realizing that remark may not have been entirely complimentary.

***

[In Great Hall]

Garreth: Amit won't come from Astronomy Tower but I really need his help with homework.

Ellie, to Zenobia: Please, go to Amit and tell him I said something.

Zenobia: Like what?

Ellie: Anything factually incorrect.

Zenobia, shrugging: If you say so.

[A few moments later]

Amit: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

***

[In Hogsmeade]

Ellie: We’re going to Honeydukes?!

Leander: No! It’s nighttime, Honeydukes is closed.

Garreth: We’re gonna ROB Honeydukes?!?!

Leander, sighing: No-

***

Ellie: Guess what?

Leander: What?

Ellie: No, you have to guess.

Leander, thinking: I don’t know.

Ellie: I've been to Azkaban.

Leander: Why would you make me guess that?!

Leander: What happened?!

***

Leander: Ellie just insisted I remember a code word in case I'm ever confronted by someone impersonating her under Polyjuice Potion and I'm not sure which is the real her and which is the imposter.

Leander: Some families have a fire escape plan, but not us.

***

Leander: *receives an owl* Oh! It’s Ellie.

Garreth, excitedly: Did she get me the stuff?

Leander: Yeah, she says she got you the Fwooper feathers, dried Billywig stings and 12 gallons of Troll blood.

Garreth: Wow! Where’d she find 12 gallons of fake Troll blood?

Leander: You wanted fake blood?

Garreth: ...

Leander: I’ll go write Ellie.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy incorrect quotes #garreth weasley #leander prewett #ominis gaunt #amit thakkar #zenobia noke #imelda reyes #duncan hobhouse #richard jackdaw

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avrablake · 1 year

Note

Hi rainstorm

Sum up your main characters (as best as possible) in one quote from each.

Sleepy I love this ask so much. This is my favorite type of thing to do.

I'll share a quote for each of my characters that will eventually get a POV in Beyond the Darkness or it's prequels

Thea:

There’s only one thing I do know. You’re my brother. Our parents are Iris and Jonah. You’re always there for me and I wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you.

Nix:

I’ve already made up my mind. You can’t change my mind and you can’t stop me.

Gram:

Let’s just say, what we are about to do, you and I, isn’t that far off the mark for me. Hell, it might not even be the craziest thing I’ve ever done.

Kai:

The only thing I care about is that you are safe. End of story. Whatever it takes.

Lucan:

I’m sorry if my comments were insensitive. I confess, sometimes I become too eager when I’m presented with a medical problem to solve. I had no intention of making you feel uncomfortable. I assure you, I think what the Military is doing is an atrocity. I mean you no harm. I only want to help.

Kaori:

The thing is Ghost, people like us don’t belong. Not with do-gooders like him. We aren’t good enough for that. You were a tool to him just like you were to my father. Instead of wasting your time trying to prove your worth to someone who will ultimately reject you anyway, you should just focus on looking out for yourself.

Ryu:

I have no intention of doing things the way my father did. Ability experimentation is wrong. I have done everything in my power to put a stop to it, but I only have so much authority over the other clans’ leaders.

Nolan:

Iris made her choice. You know I tried to convince her to come back. If she had, maybe things would be different, but now it’s too late. I’m just trying to do my job, Gram.

Iris:

I’m a little envious of them. I’ve always had to be the responsible one, my whole life. Sometimes I don’t remember if I was ever just a kid. I don’t know how to relax like that. To just enjoy myself without worrying about my responsibilities.

Jonah:

Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Just…Just don’t run off to cry by yourself okay?

Reiji: (The only thing I've written for him is a journal entry)

I wanted to protect my family, my friends, my community. I wanted to give them a life of freedom and refuge. Instead I have turned them into soldiers, given them a life of conflict and war. It would be easy to justify my actions by stating it was all for the greater good. I do believe I tried my best, but I find myself asking if that is enough. Is it enough to watch the present burn just because I hoped for a better future?

#asks #blorbsday #blorbo blursday #my ocs #btd snippets #thea #nix #gram #kai #lucan #kaori #ryu #nolan #iris #jonah #reiji #yes this implies that nolan iris and jonah are getting their own prequel #yes. yes they are #yes. yes I have a problem

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pigeonwhumps · 2 years

Text

Sam and Lucan sneak peek!

Whumpmas in July: Day 13

Whumpmas in July masterlist

@whumpmasinjuly

A sneak peek of a piece for Sam and Lucan! Misunderstandings abound, and I'd like to wrap them both up in a large, fluffy blanket. Set a couple of weeks after Lucan arrives at Sam's.

Adding the Sam and Lucan taglist bc why not. Also, the masterlist is here.

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @onlybadendings @whumpofdory

CWs: pet whump, non-human whumpee, slavery, past self-harm, emotional effects of self-harm, guilt

“What did I do to make you think I’d want you hurt?” Sam’s crying now, tears streaming down their face to match the faerie’s. Lucan’s hurt, badly hurt, and it’s all their fault. “I’d never want you to punish yourself like that. Am I really so bad that you think I would?”

Lucan shakes his head fiercely, then winces and picks up Sam’s phone, jabbing at the keyboard shakily before showing the note to them.

Trained. You’re my Master and you haven’t punished me yet. So I should punish myself. Sam winces at the title and he adds, Sorry.

“Don’t apologise, Lucan. You can’t help how you were trained. But I...” They close their eyes for a moment, pulling themself together, and then reach out, scratching Lucan’s head in an unspoken reassurance. “I haven’t punished you because I don’t want to punish you. Because you haven’t done anything wrong. I know you think you have, but you haven’t. Will you... will you leave it to me to decide if you need punishing from now on? Don’t hurt yourself. It’s your house too, I don’t want to lock you out of the cupboards but I... I will, if you hurt yourself again. Please.” Lucan nods and they sigh. “Thank you.”

Tomorrow they’ll need to set some new ground rules. Rejig the ones they already have. Sam hates doing this, Lucan lives here, he shouldn’t be ordered about in his own damn home, but it’s unfortunately necessary, at least for now. They take a minute to hate every single person who’s ever helped abuse Lucan so much that he’ll hurt himself because of some twisted belief in Sam’s desires. He’s so fucking scared and what has Sam done to help? Really help? They thought Lucan was doing better, but clearly they were just seeing what they wanted to see. What else have they missed? How are they so bad at this?

“Christ, Lucan, I’m sorry,” they whisper through tears, scratching his scalp, “I’m so, so sorry.”

#whumpmas in july #wij2022 #wij day 13 #sam and lucan #sam johnson #lucan oc #snippet #self harm #pet whump #guilt #non human whumpee #fae whump #whumpee and caretaker #whumpee x caretaker

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temperedgods · 3 months

Text

Part 1 Chapter 8

Didn't finish part 2 yet, other stuff came up. I think once I am done posting part 1 I am going to change to maybe biweekly or monthly posting since it really took a lot less time to post than was to make.

Free Palestine

Lucan and Kracak slipped away from the group. The two wanted some time away from their new friends, somewhere to decompress and went searching for that place in Gregora.

Despite the pitch black night sky Gregora was bright as day from street lights and venue signs burning bright.

The two found Violet Bridge, a nightclub covered inside and out with purple neon lights. The place felt bigger on the inside. Even at half capacity it still felt crowded.

While loud music and the warm bodies packed in one room most would find it uncomfortable, it was a different pace than the sounds of gunfire and cold caverns.

Violet Bridge had a mixed drink menu named after various spellcasters. Curious, the two ordered their own respective type of spellcasting. Lucan’s had a grassy almost mushroom taste while Kracak’s drink was floral and smooth. Kracak pounded the entirety of her drink and threw a few silver marks on the bar.

“I see some other Paravas across the dance floor.” She yelled, still drowned out by the music.

“To see if they know anything?” Lucan asked.

“No, I wanna dance with them.” And Kracak turned away to the dance floor.

Lucan smirked and nursed his drink. He wasn’t going to let his guard down but he wanted to enjoy himself somewhat.

Someone sat at Kracak’s seat and ordered a paladin. The Halcyon opened the conversation.

“Your friend is really enjoying herself here.”

“Yep, she likes to cut loose every so often and after the past few days I don’t blame her.”

Lucan eyed the woman’s drink as she pulled some of it back.

“Are you a paladin?” Lucan asked.

She giggled.

“No, a sorcerer actually. That drink is alright but I do like our paladin’s almost chocolate taste over the sorcerer’s minty taste.”

“Do you work here?”

She smiled.

“I do, actually. My name’s Nijali.”

“I’m Lucan. My friend over there is Kracak.”

The two looked over and saw Kracak dancing with 3 other paravas. They were brightly colored and clashed with Kracak’s dark feathers but they really enjoyed her presence.

Nijali looked at Lucan’s appearance closely and saw his loose fitted black shirt and pants.

“Y’know you do look like you just came from a funeral.” Nijali commented.

“Well maybe I did.” Lucan said coyly.

Nijali grabbed his left sleeve and rubbed it between her fingers.

“This is really soft.”

She tugged on it and caught a glimpse of his necromancer seal. The seal showed a bleached skull growing moss on the cranium and behind sat a cracked tombstone all within a ring made by a venomous snake. Not only did she see that but also a tattoo of a book that animated slight movement and legible text of a spell to summon a wraith.

Lucan recoiled his arm back.

“Sorry.” Nijali apologized.

“No, it's fine. Most people don’t really know that about me, most others don’t like to know I might be a harbinger of death.”

“Are you?”

“I’m a doctor, I don’t want to see anyone die.”

Nijali cracked a half smile.

“What about the other tattoo?” Nijali asked. “I’ve never seen one like it.”

“Oh the book? Yes it’s an enchanted tattoo, I can store the text of spells in it so I don’t need to carry a grimoire. Most others need to but this cuts down on what I bring with me. That and it looks cool.” “It does look really cool. What spells do you have on it?”

“Well a few conjuring spells, some healing spells, that type of stuff. Oh! And a charm spell, it’s always something handy to have around!” Nijali chuckled.

“I think your charm spell is working.” She said putting her hand on his.

“Well that’s the best part,” Lucan replied back “I didn’t need that spell.”

Lucan and Nijali pulled close and kissed. Lucan pulled away for a moment and grabbed a few marks from his pocket. Nijali stopped him.

“Don’t worry it’s on the house. Follow me.”

Nijali grabbed him and whisked him away to a hidden staircase at the back of the club.

Kracak only saw Lucan being brought up there for a moment but got the idea.

The group sat outside in the front garden of the bed and breakfast Charlie found.

Dusk was setting in as the shadows grew long over each building. Lawrence was having a cigarette while the others talked about spells while petting Riley. Joseph had gone off to handle some sort of wizard business he did not elaborate on and Kracak and Lucan had gone off by themselves.

“Lawrence,” Charlie asked. “Did Lucan and Kracak say when they were gonna be back.”

“Nope.” Lawrence said while exhaling.

“Did they say- anything?” Jordan added.

“Not really.” Lawrence pulled a drag.

“So, they’re just out there. By themselves?” Malan continued.

“And we don’t know where they are.” Morgan completed the thought.

“Not at all.” Lawrence answered. “They’re big kids, they can handle themselves.”

“But the Dismayed are after us.” Charlie continued. “They could easily get those two.”

“I doubt it.” Lawrence quickly remarked.

“But they tried doing that with us.” Jordan quipped while gesturing to themself and Morgan and Riley.

“And that went so well for them before?” Lawrence asked back.

The rest of them murmured between each other and Lawrence looked at his watch.

“We should be having a visitor in a moment actually.” Lawrence announced, extinguishing his cigarette and getting up.

He moved to the gate of the garden and looked down both ways of the street. He turned back, concerned at finding no one.

“Strange, she said she’d be here right about now.”

A figure dropped from the top of the bed and breakfast, hitting the grass with a soft and loamy thump.

“Ah, welcome! Glad you could join us!”

A figure was shrouded in the deep shadow of the house, taller than everyone else, even the absent Lucan. The figure pulled from the shadow and revealed to be a woman clad in wooden and leather armor. She had long orange hair and carried a double bladed battle axe.

Charlie erupted from his chair, flinging it far behind him.

“Shelly!” He yelled, running to her. They two embraced after being separated for this long.

“Charlie! It’s so good to see you again!” She boomed. A sweet but strong voice as she gave him a bear hug. The two held each other for almost a minute.

Morgan, Jordan and Malan looked at each other.

“Holy shit,” Jordan whispered “She’s real? I thought when he said something about her to me it was like a shock hallucination.” “You can have those?” Morgan asked.

“Sometimes.” Malan answered.

“Friends!” Charlie announced, now standing beside Shelly, arms interlocked. “This is Shelly. When I was brought to High Wolf by those eagles she took in me and taught me their ways. And floored me with her beauty and prowess to annihilate anything with her giant battle ax.”

Shelly looked at him. “Giant eagles?”

Lawrence moved forward and intercepted the question.

“Right yeah that. Listen, Joseph gave me the whole story about that, so we can talk about that. Shelly, Charlie, would you like some tea while we discuss this?”

Both trained their gaze on him.

“Sure?” Shelly said confusedly.

“Wonderful. Both of you please follow me and we can discuss this in private.”

Lawrence went behind them and opened the door to the house. Charlie walked in first and Shelly behind him, ducking slightly under the door to not hit her head.

The 3 were inside for a while, the sun ducked under the land and the moon rising up high. The rest were outside, just enjoying the cool night when they had finally come out.

“I apologize if that was too much for you to take in at once.” Lawrence assured them in a very pleasant tone. For everyone there, it was the nicest he had ever sounded. “Elder Isaac has always been difficult to work with but I never imagined that of him.” Shelly responded.

“Like I said before, I can always take care of it.”

“No no,” Shelly interrupted, “We can take care of this issue. Thank you, we are grateful to the Mikaels and their eternal friendship with Janall and her children.”

“Of course, their friendship is always welcomed.” Charlie grunted.

Charlie looked at everyone.

“Me and Shelly have to go take care of some things back at High Wolf. But don’t worry, we’ll be back to deal with Naturius! He won’t see what’s coming!”

He grabbed Shelly’s hand and the two quickly exited out of the front garden. Shelly turned back and told Lawrence.

“Someone else was going to come by here. She caught me as I was trying to get here but she wanted to make sure we handled our things before she got here.”

Lawrence raised an eyebrow when a look of terror splashed on his face.

Shelly turned back and the two ran off into the darkness when another figure came out of the darkness waving to Lawrence.

“Shit.” Lawrence muttered.

A woman dressed in leather pants and jacket with bulletproof underclothing ran through the gate and up to Lawrence. And she was armed to the teeth exactly like Lawrence.

“You could’ve called me when you had some trouble, y’know that right?”

“I had enough help Julia.”

She peered over to the rest of the group sitting at the mesh table. Riley quickly came up to say hello. The rest were unsure at this new arrival right after Shelly.

“Well clearly you had quite the party.”

Lawrence turned to the group.

“This is Julia. My younger sister. She was off dealing with a Lich while we had our Dismayed problem.”

Julia scoffed.

“Oh he’s not that much of a problem. I can deal with him anytime I want to.”

Lawrence cocked his head.

“If he becomes a problem again, I can handle it.” Julia assured. “This is much more important, helping out you and your friends. But other than the one guy who really loves that warrior girl, it sounded like you had more. Where did they go?” “They had their own business to attend to and they’ll be back by morning.”

“Good to know. And who are these lovely spellcasters then?”

Julia looked over to Morgan, Jordan, and Malan. William slinked deep into his chair.

“Oh this is the paladin and cleric throuple. I worked with Morgan and Jordan before, the paladin and the first cleric. The Whisper, I only started working with her a week ago.” “Hey!” Malan shouted and jumped from her chair. “That’s, only, allegedly.” Malan sunk back into her chair.

“The Whisper?” Jordan asked.

“Oh I’ve heard about you!” Julia said excitedly. “Yeah I’ve heard a lot about your sharpshooter skills!”

“How did you, when did you know-” Malan stammered.

“Knew it from when you shot the dismayed soldier and I didn’t hear a sound from that tree you were hiding in. Your name is self-evident my friend.”

Jordan leaned over to Malan.

“Y’know being a bit of a legend is actually really cute.”

Malan smiled and blushed slightly.

“I do have to ask who is the other guy here that isn’t a spellcaster.” Julia asked, looking directly at Will sunk down in his chair.

“That’s Will, he’s important to the group. And me.” Lawrence responded.

Julia mouth went agape and she strided to Will.

“Hi Will! It’s so nice to meet you! Lawrence has told me a lot about you actually” She extended a hand out to shake his. He got up quickly and stormed out of the garden.

Lawrence had pain shoot up his spine.

“I’m sorry, I need to go talk to him.”

“Don’t worry, we have enough time to talk later. Go get him.”

Lawrence strided through the garden and after Will.

“Will! Will! Could you stop please?” His voice sounded desperate.

Will turned to Lawrence.

“You could’ve said she was coming here.”

“I didn’t know she would be here. I swear she was dealing with that Lich and it should’ve kept her busy for 2 months.”

Lawrence grabbed Will’s hand

“I was going to ask you if you wanted to help me with that. She doesn’t know about all of you yet but she probably does now.”

“So she doesn’t trust me?”

“No. She trusts me and trusts who I trust. And, I trust you the most.”

Lawrence put his other hand on Will’s.

A sense shot up through both of them, others were there with them in the alleyway. =

“Shit.” Lawrence said under his breath.

Three emerged into their direct vision.

“Well this one was a surprise. That’s true.”

Lawrence saw the presence of the three figures closing in and saw their Cervi forms. Their deer forms colliding with the cobblestone and trash cans of the alleyway.

“Will, you have probably already met Janall.”

The bright eminence stepped forward. With antlers in the feminine form taken, Janall the goddess of nature made sure any form would announce she spoke for nature.

“You’ve met Janall. But these are my son and daughter. Liz and Jason, please say hello to Will.”

The two Cervi waved hello to Will.

“I'm glad I could meet you here Lawrence. These two have been asking about an adventure for a long time now and I think they're ready to go.”

“I would love to see them out fulfilling their lineage of demon slaying but this isn’t the one for them. They seek to cause massive harm to nature, and everything else that stands in their path. “

“Then we'd be great to help, seeking vengeance for our mother and her life work.” Liz exclaimed.

“I wasn't finished, Liz.” Lawrence put a hand on her shoulder.

“That vengeance could easily become blind rage. I don’t want either of you fighting if you can’t see the forest for the trees”

“Your father has a point.” Janall colluded.

“But you're the god!” Jason exasperated.

“I am but this is also a fight between Lunaren and Solaren. I’m not going to upset either of them, I’ve already meddled enough with the new champion already. Mikaela is already getting a lot of shit for Lawrence being involved but you two might push it over the edge.”

The twins looked down at the cobblestones, defeated.

“When this is over you two go to High Wolf. Charlie will guide you into becoming fighters like they are. I think you would really like him too.”

Both sullen, they agreed.

Lawrence gave a consolation hug to the two of them.

“It was very nice to meet you Mr William.” Liz told Will.

“Please, uh, call me Will. But I am very glad to meet you two.”

Will cracked a pained smile at the two. They were absolutely enamored with him.

“Could we see the other form?” Jason exclaimed.

“That’s very rude to ask Jason!” Janall doted.

“I would love to but it may not be wise to do that inside city limits. The forest is a much better location to see that.” Will replied. He was floored that these two knew about it.

“Did you give that to him mom? Therians are so pretty it sounds like something you would do.” Julia asked.

“It wasn’t my doing. Grimbergen, she- blessed William with this.” Janall danced around the word ‘cursed’.

“We will need to thank her sometime!” Jason exclaimed.

Will had never heard anything like this, compliments of his other form. The closest to it before was Riley. Riley had accepted him, as did the others, but Riley was unable to communicate that other than through actions. Others seemed indifferent to his curse.

“Dad told us about some of your adventures! We’d love to hear about your adventures Will!”

It continued like this for the rest of the night, Janall had slipped away and let their father look after the kids for the time.

Charlie was beyond ecstatic to see Shelly again. He was upset that the two couldn’t immediately catch up. He only got a few moments while Lawrence made tea to explain how he got to High Wolf while sitting at the dinner table inside the bed and breakfast.

“So I was in Kentshire as I usually was. The winter market was set up so I got one of those butter breads and some wine while I had a break.”

“Salt rounds?” Shelly asked “Right, that's the name of the bread. It’s the one I made for you. Anyways, enjoying those as I had like 20 minutes away from the duke when out of nowhere these two giant eagles fly out of nowhere and kidnap me. Dropping my bread and spilling my wine all over me. Which is why it looked like I had been hurt when you cut that monster down when you first saved me. Did I ever thank you for that time?” Shelly blushed.

“You have thanked me multiple times in many ways Charlie.”

“Well let me thank you again.”

He pulled in close to Shelly and kissed her quickly.

“Also,” He added when pulling away. “That’s also a hello and how are you.”

Shelly laughed.

“I’m fine Charlie, thank you for asking.”

Lawrence looked over right after the two had kissed, raised an eyebrow, and turned back.

“So yeah I was kidnapped by eagles. But I thought Elder Isaac told all of you this?” “He didn’t actually. He just said that you had defected from the kingdom.” “I wish! I would’ve defected but I didn’t have much of a choice then. But he said nothing about the eagles, or even this?” Charlie’s necklace was underneath his shirt and he pulled it out to show off the silver antlers.

“Mom gave this to me as a kid, she said it was important. I kept it in my trunk back in Kentshire.”

Shelly pulled back to Charlie and looked at the antlers.

“That’s the sign Charlie is the champion of Janall.” Lawrence announced, holding three cups of tea in his hands. He dropped one in front of Shelly and Charlie and kept the last in his own hands.

“Charlie is the rightful champion of Janall. Whoever in your clan claims to be that, is a usurper.”

“That would be… Elder Isaac.” Shelly answered, unsure of her own realization.

“And it sounds like Isaac also kept out the fact that Charlie was brought to you by the common way a champion is chosen, by two giant birds stealing them.”

“But Elder Isaac has been one of our longest living elders! He couldn’t do this to us!”

“Something must’ve changed his mind unfortunately. I should make it clear this isn’t an indictment of you and your family. This is on him, trying to exploit his own position.”

Shelly looked at Charlie as he and Lawrence continued the conversation. She thought about how he was always interested in whatever was told to him about High Wolf, always asked questions but never in outright defiance. And how Isaac always was hostile towards him, even initially bringing him into the group.

“Okay. I’ll do it.” Shelly blurted out.

Charlie and Lawrence snapped to her. Charlie put his hand on hers.

“Shelly, you don’t have to do anything. If anyone should take care of this, it should be me.”

“No one could accept that, even if you proved that you are the champion. I am a lifelong member, it is common for one of us to cut another down.” “There is the other third option.” Lawrence added, pointing to himself. “No one would know and I could send him to the bottom of the Haraphtic ocean. With some convincing and a few gems, his body is completely devoured by fish in the matter of a day. And you can just say Northwin took care of him and no one would be the wiser.”

Shelly got up followed by Charlie then Lawrence.

“I will handle this. But I would appreciate Charlie to come with me. Everyone does miss you.”

“Really? That’s sweet to know they like me.”

“They did like your guitar playing. I think Alan might have a bit of a crush on you from that alone.” “That’s adorable. Well him and his little crush.”

Lawrence guided them back outside to the rest of the group.

“I apologize if that was too much for you to take in at once.” Lawrence asked them in a very pleasant tone. One of the nicest tones any of them had heard from him before. “Elder Isaac has always been difficult to work with but I never imagined that of him.” Shelly responded.

“Like I said before, I can always take care of it.”

“No no,” Shelly interrupted, “We can take care of this issue. Thank you, we are grateful to the Mikaels and their eternal friendship with Janall and her children.”

“Of course, their friendship is always welcomed.”

Charlie looked at everyone.

“Me and Shelly have to go take care of some things back at High Wolf. But don’t worry, we’ll be back to deal with Naturius! He won’t see what’s coming!”

He grabbed Shelly’s hand and the two quickly exited out of the front garden. Shelly turned back and told Lawrence.

“Someone else was going to come by here. She caught me as I was trying to get here but she wanted to make sure we handled our things before she got here.”

The two quickly made it out of the city and prepared for their full sprint back to High Wolf. Before that they made a little fire and kissed each other.

“I’m sorry about Isaac.” Charlie admitted.

“It’s okay, he’s an asshole. But I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

Charlie looked deep into her eyes and said what weighed on his mind since leaving.

“Shelly, I love you.”

Shelly had always remembered the moment before Charlie left with him saying those words. He certainly said it with his expression but never out right. Now his face was full of regret, but he was earnest about his feelings.

Shelly put a hand on his cheek.

“I love you too.”

#wizards #werewolves #druid #paladin #warlock #cleric #dragon #sorceress

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2dmenenthusiast · 3 years

Text

“I’m not even sure if that’s a real species.”

(Ryan Lucan x GN!Reader)

this didn't turn out as great as I wanted it to cuz I'm absolute shit at writing fluff but I already have another Ryan fic in the works to make up for it (that break shit was apparently a lie) I hope ya'll enjoy anyway.

Reblogs are always appreciated!

Summary: Between shitty drawings of birds and struggling with your feelings for your best friend, Ryan is determined to make your birthday one to remember

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings/other info: major spoilers for LIS: True Colors, swearing, shitty pacing, my mediocre attempt at writing fluff

“Are you done yet?”

Your feet skidded against the floor, the rubber soles of your shoes creating a loud squeak as you stopped the chair from rolling forward. Spinning to face Ryan, you give him a wide grin.

“Nope.”

He shakes his head and leans forward in his seat, looking over his work as he lets you continue your antics.

It was a beautiful day in Haven Springs, the sun shining in the bright blue sky, a comfortable breeze shaking the leaves. Most people in town were probably going hiking along the trails. You? Well, you couldn’t think of a more perfect time to bother your dear friend, Ryan, at his place of work. He wasn’t surprised to see you walk into the ranger station with two cups of coffee and a box of takeout from the bar, used to your random visits. But he told you with a guilty expression and those familiar puppy dog eyes that he had too much work to take a break with you. You had waved him off, letting him know that it was okay and you could just hang around to keep him company. Though, he didn’t think agreeing would mean you acting like an absolute menace around him.

Rolling over to the other desk, you began looking through the drawers for something to fidget with when you found a walkie, smiling to yourself as you clicked it on and held down the button.

“... Lookin’ good over there, mountain man.”

Ryan let out a soft curse and flinched when he heard his own walkie go off next to him, grabbing it before turning towards you with a narrowed gaze. “Really?”

“Ah ah! You have to talk into the walkie. Over”

“I’m not speaking into the-”

“I’m sorry, I think I’m getting a little static, can you repeat that? Over.”

Letting out a sigh, he couldn’t help but smile as he brought the walkie closer to his face. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m what? Over.”

“You’re ridiculous! Over.”

A wide smile broke out on your face as Ryan let out a soft chuckle, and you placed the walkie back inside the desk drawer before rolling over to him and lightly nudging him with your chair.

“What’s got you all stressed out? You’re usually more easy going than this,” you asked, taking a glance at what was on his desk.

He shrugged. “Just- you know, new regulations and things to go over. It’s no big deal. Just not the most fun part of my job, I guess.”

You nodded, spotting a yellow notepad and sliding it towards yourself before grabbing a pen. He watched as you drew a quick doodle of a bird, and you propped it against the lamp on the corner of the desk.

“There, now you have a feathered friend to keep you company while you're inside.”

Ryan tilted his head, examining the drawing. “I’m not even sure if that’s a real species.”

You scoffed, smacking his shoulder as he laughed. “Oh, whatever. Next time draw your own damn bird.” Standing up, you fished your phone out of your pocket to check the time. “Oh shit, I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, and don’t forget to meet me at the Lantern tonight.”

Nodding, you gave Ryan a quick hug before racing out the door and driving to work. Ever since Riley left, you quickly took over her position at the flower shop so Eleanor wouldn’t be managing the store alone. You could tell she needed the help, no matter how often she told you she was fine. Luckily, she was getting more used to accepting your help as time went on.

You stepped into the flower shop with minutes to spare, letting out a breath as you walked into the back office. Grabbing your apron, you tied it around yourself before clocking in, and as you stepped out of the room, Eleanor came out of the greenhouse with a bundle of flowers in her hand.

“Oh! Dear, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, working my shift?”

“Oh. I was sure I had you scheduled off for today,” Eleanor said, walking into the office to check your schedule.

You looked at her with your eyebrows drawn up in confusion. “But, I usually work today, don’t I?”

“Well, yes, but I assumed you didn’t want to spend your birthday working.”

Your eyes slightly widened before your expression fell and you let out a sigh. “Shit. I’m sorry, Eleanor. I’ve been so busy, I guess I just forgot.”

“Oh, I understand, dear. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t forget important things, too. Do you wanna go home?”

You shook your head. “No. No, it’s fine. I’m already here, so, might as well get some work done.”

Eleanor nodded, handing you the bundle of flowers before walking back into the greenhouse. A quiet sigh left you as you walked behind the counter and wrapped up the bundle of lilies, taking them over to the case of flowers. It didn’t surprise you that you forgot. In the past, your birthday had never been something you made a big deal about, so why should you now? The most you ever did was watch movies and have a few drinks with Ryan, Steph, and Alex, and there was nothing you enjoyed more than hanging out with them.

Steph and Ryan had been your best friends ever since you could remember, along with Gabe. When Alex came to Haven, she fit right in with all of you. And when Gabe died… well, safe to say it was hard on all of you. Like a piece had been ripped out and replaced with a giant hole. You made sure to be there for each other, especially when all the drama went down with Typhon and Jed. And when Ryan found out about his father, you could only imagine how he felt.

You remember countless nights staying up with him as he yelled and cried and questioned how his father could do such a terrible thing. There was nothing more you wanted to do than take his pain away, but all you could do was be there for him, and let him know that the people around him loved him.

You felt your face heat up when you recalled the nights he fell asleep on your shoulder after staying up late and filling up on takeout, and you shook your head as you walked back behind the counter. You knew your feelings for Ryan went way above platonic. The way he smiled, his laugh, that puppy dog look he gave you when he was confused or flustered. Everything about him made your heart flutter. And the way he would light up when he talked about his job or listed off random facts about the birds he saw when you two went on hikes, it all just made you fall for him even more.

Though, there was something nagging at the back of your head. If it was your birthday, why didn’t Ryan say anything to you earlier? You glanced up when you heard the bell above the door ring, and Alex greeted you with a small smile and a wave.

“Hey! How’ve you been, Alex?” you asked as she walked up, placing her hands on the counter. She shrugged her shoulders.

“Just came to pick up some flowers.”

You nodded and gestured over to the cooler, and she took her time as she looked over them, seeming to look for something specific. She finally reached in and pulled out a bouquet of roses, and you raised your eyebrows with a small smirk as she placed them in front of you.

“Ah. Special night with Steph?”

She shifted her gaze for a moment and let out a small laugh, reaching a hand up to rub the back of her neck. “You could say that. Oh, happy birthday, by the way.”

You smiled as you rang her up. “Thank you. Seems like everyone’s remembered except me. Well, and Ryan.”

Alex tilted her head as her brows furrowed. “Did he not say anything?” she asked, able to pick up the disappointment in your voice.

“No. But he was busy and seemed distracted when I saw him, so I don’t blame him.”

“I’m sure he’ll make it up to you.”

You nodded, and she gave you a reassuring look before grabbing the flowers and leaving, the jingling of the bell ringing loudly in the empty room. Fingers gripping the counter, you let out a shaky breath and dropped your head, trying to calm down the rapid beating of your heart. You felt pathetic. The mere mention or thought of Ryan seemed to make your heart race these days. It was a miracle you could even keep your composure around him. After being friends with him for so many years, you guess your conscience just couldn’t take it anymore.

But how could you ever confess to him? No, you couldn’t ruin your friendship like that. Ryan was one of the best things in your life, and you wouldn’t risk it for anything. Even if it meant keeping your feelings hidden.

“Hon, are you okay?”

You jumped when you heard Eleanor’s voice, looking up to meet her concerned gaze. You gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded.

“Yeah. Guess I’m just in my own head today.”

She hesitated before nodding and leaving you alone again, and you huffed as you placed your elbows against the counter. Today was going to be long.

***

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay a little longer? I know there’s more to be done.”

“Oh stop it, you. I can take care of it. Go enjoy the rest of your night,” Eleanor said, practically pushing you out the door.

You sighed and reluctantly walked out of the shop, waving at her through the window before adjusting your bag on your shoulder and walking to your car. You were about to get in when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you took it out to see that Ryan texted you.

-6:11 Ryan:

Remember. Black Lantern after your shift.

You chuckled to yourself, quickly typing up a response.

-6:12 You:

Yes, Mister Park Ranger, sir

Har har. Just get your butt here.

-6:14 Ryan:

But not the rest of me? Idk if that’s possible, Ry.

-6:14 You:

You’re ridiculous.

-6:15 Ryan:

So you’ve told me. Be there in a few.

-6:16 You:

Pocketing your phone, you locked your car before walking down the main road towards the bar, wondering what Ryan’s urgency was. If it was to try another experimental drink, you were going to kick his ass. Last time that happened, you ended up throwing up your lunch. You arrived at the Black Lantern in just a few minutes, but when you opened the door and all the lights were off, you wondered if Ryan made a mistake.

“What the hell-”

“SURPRISE!”

The lights suddenly flickered on as people jumped up from where they were hiding, and Steph walked over with the biggest grin on her face as she blew into a noisemaker and threw paper confetti into the air.

“Happy birthday, loser.”

You scoffed, still reeling from the surprise before reaching up to pull a few pieces of confetti out of your hair. “You’re helping me get all this out later.”

She just laughed and threw an arm around your shoulders, leading you further into the bar. Everyone that you passed wished you a happy birthday, and you smiled and thanked them all, even accepting the hug Duckie gave you before you could walk past him.

“You guys really didn’t have to do this, you know,” you muttered, stopping at the bar when Steph went to grab a few beers.

“Nonsense! You never let us do anything special for your birthday. At least let us spoil you a bit this year.”

You sighed, shaking your head with a smile before looking down when you felt someone poke your arm. “Ethan! See, I knew the life of the party was here somewhere.”

He gave you a toothy grin before reaching behind him and pulling out one of his comics, nervously holding it out to you. “I uh, I wanted to give you something for your birthday. It’s an early copy of the newest volume I’m working on. I wanted you to get the first look at it.”

Your eyes slightly widened as you looked at the beautifully drawn cover, gently running your fingers over it. You had to admit, Ethan was crazy talented for a kid his age.

“Thank you, Ethan. I’m sure I’ll love it,” you said, and the boy nodded excitedly.

Hearing someone call your name, you looked up and saw Steph waving you over, Alex sitting with her in the booth. Taking a seat across from them, you narrowed your eyes as your gaze shifted between them.

“Alright, whose bright idea was this?”

They gave each other a look, trying to hold back their smiles as you heard someone behind you clear their throat.

“That would be me, actually.”

Turning in your seat, your eyes landed on Ryan standing behind you, a nervous smile on his face and his hands behind his back. Of course.

“Why am I not surprised?”

His grin widened for a split second before suddenly dropping, looking down at his shoes for a moment. “Um, can we talk outside for a sec?”

Nodding, you stood up from your seat to follow him, but you didn’t miss the giggles and quiet hushes coming from the two girls. You only got to glance back at them for a second before Ryan was placing a hand on your back and leading you out of the Lantern. The sun was almost finished setting, barely peeking out from the mountains in the distance as the water reflected beautiful oranges and yellows. No matter how long you lived in Haven Springs, you didn’t think you’d ever get used to how beautiful the sky was.

You and Ryan walked to the end of the dock, looking out at the water and mountains before you stole a glance at him. The way the light shone on his face, accentuating the curves and sharp lines of his features and reflected off his blue eyes- god, how could a man be so fucking pretty?

You quickly looked away before he could catch you staring, swallowing down the lump in your throat before you eventually turned your body towards him.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to-”

You could barely get your sentence out when Ryan was suddenly holding a bouquet of roses towards you, and you looked between his anxious expression and the red flowers for a moment before something in your head clicked.

Oh. Oh.

And then you were laughing. Ryan released the breath he seemed to be holding, his expression morphing into one of confusion before he let out a quiet chuckle of his own. “What’s- What’s so funny?”

Reaching out, your fist lightly punched his chest before you carefully took the flowers out of his hand, your laughter dying down into sporadic giggles.

“Nothing, just- wow. You’ve really outdone yourself, Lucan. Sending Alex to do your dirty work?”

A look of realization flashed across his features before he smiled and reached up to rub the back of his neck, face becoming flushed. “Uh, yeah. I didn’t want you finding out before the surprise, so…”

“Find out what?”

You could tell he was trying to come up with a proper response before he gestured towards the bouquet, and you took your time as you looked down at the beautiful arrangement. Roses. Red Roses. Flowers that made a very specific statement. And Ryan was giving them to… you. Disbelief filled you as you felt your heart suddenly jump up into your throat, and you looked up at Ryan with wide eyes.

“Ryan. I…”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just…” Taking the flowers from you, he carefully set them down and hesitantly reached out to grab your hands, the rough pads of his fingers brushing over your palms before your hands were entirely enveloped in his. “I… I don’t know if I can keep this a secret from you anymore.”

The way he was touching you was sending pulses up your arms, and you felt like you could barely breathe with how fast your heart was beating. “Ryan-”

“Please, just let me get this out. Then you can do whatever, walk away and never talk to me again if you want. I just need you to hear this.” You nodded, and he let out a breath as his grip on your hands tightened. “We’ve been friends ever since I can remember. Doing everything together, telling each other our deepest secrets and our greatest fears. I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone before… And, I can’t exactly pinpoint in all that time where I fell in love with you, but I know it’s been a while since then.”

It was like the ground had just been taken out from under you, Ryan the only thing keeping you from falling as his confession slowly sunk in. He… loves you?

Holy fuck. Ryan loves you??

“I guess I just wanted today to be special for you, to show you how special you are to me. You’ve been with me through everything, seen every side there is to me. And the only person I can imagine having any type of future with… is you.”

The chirping of the crickets quickly filled the gaps of silence, the noise almost getting louder after Ryan stopped talking, and you could barely think about what he said when you had so many thoughts racing in your head. Shit, what were you supposed to say?

“Um, if you want me to leave-”

“No! No, um, I just need a second to process-”

“Oh! Yeah, no, totally. Uh, go ahead,” he said, letting go of your hands.

God, you were both fucking wrecks of human beings. You could mark off Getting a confession of love from your childhood best friend from your Shit I Never Expected to Happen list. Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to Ryan and took one of his hands in both of yours, giving him a small smile.

“Listen, Ryan. I don’t need flowers or a surprise birthday party to feel special. I… I always feel special when I’m around you.”

“Sooo that means?”

You rolled your eyes, your smile growing. “It means kiss me, you dork.”

He didn’t waste any time as he carefully held your face in his hands before connecting your lips to his, and you smiled into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around him. You could mark kissing Ryan off that list, too. His hands moved from your face to wrap his arms around you, holding you close to his front as your hands came up to weave your fingers through his hair. As you leaned further into him, you heard a soft crinkling of paper, and momentarily broke the kiss so you could reach into the pocket of his flannel. Pulling out a piece of yellow paper, you unfolded it to reveal- Oh, jesus.

“Oh, my fucking god. Are you kidding me, Ry?” you laughed, turning the shitty sketch of the bird you’d drawn earlier towards him.

He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I thought it could be a good luck charm, you know? Maybe while I’m out, I’ll actually find a rare species or something that looks like that. Could make you famous one day.”

You just shook your head as Ryan laughed, the sound causing a warm, fuzzy feeling to bloom in your chest.

“Who’s the ridiculous one now?”

“Oh, I think we tie for that one.”

Ryan cut your laugh off with another kiss, and you practically melted into him as that warm feeling spread throughout your body. It goes without saying, this was the best birthday ever.

#ryan lucan x reader #ryan lucan imagine #ryan lucan #life is strange: true colors #listc imagine #life is strange #life is strange true colors #life is strange fanfiction

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shadowshamrock · 3 years

Text

Before You Go

Title: Before You Go Ch. 7

Summary: Chuck is serious this time about the world ending thanks to his hissy fit with the Winchesters. The Winchesters are not as alone as they thought in their war against god. There’s always been secrets from the Men of Letters that could always be revealed. Someone from Dean’s past always had a connection and they come back to remind him.

Chapters:01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Words: 1544

Dean walked into the kitchen and jumped as he saw Isabel bent over the counter eating cereal. He scowled, wondering if she was eating the last of it. He picked up and bowl and poured out the contents into his and put it down. Isabel took a bite watching him carefully. She hates the wariness about people, let alone from Dean. She preferred Castiel’s reserve and Sam was calm and curious. Dean on the other hand was never one emotion nor calm which made him unpredictable for her which threw off her normal reaction to people.

Dean could feel her studying him and raised an eyebrow at her. “Couldn’t sleep either huh?” He asked.

Isabel stopped wondering about figuring out Dean and finished chewing. “The world is loud again. And trust me having you boys’ thoughts drift into my dreams is not always pleasant.” She took another bite as she finished her sentence.

The world was loud since coming home from the Empty. She didn’t know if it was Castiel or something else allowing her powers to come back. She missed being normal, but she was learning once more she never was really normal. Dean smirked at her and moved to sit at the table. Isabel’s gaze followed; his presence calm compared to his normal energy. She noticed the buzz of anxiety still and she was starting to believe that would never go away for him. She sat down across from him, taking another bite of cereal.

Dean chewed his cereal and studied her. He knew that look from her even though it had been so long ago. She was always reading the room, people at the bar and their drink orders before they even knew what to drink themselves. It was amusing and kind of annoying for him. Now that he knew she was a part of something bigger, it made him wonder what else had been hidden.

“You know I don’t understand why you stayed away for so long.” He put his spoon down. “I mean, I’m glad you’re here now, we can use all the help we can get. I just… really could have used a friend like you through it all. I mean, Bobby kept my head straight for a while, but he was always like a dad. You, when I met you, I finally had a friend.” As Dean told her this, she stopped eating.

“I’m a terrible friend Dean.” She answered it quickly and knew he’d hate that instantly.

Dean let out a deep sigh. “Yeah, well, so am I.” He smiled softly. He took another bite of cereal and tried to say he was sorry for pushing her away, but even he knew she understood. He swallowed his cereal and looked at her carefully. She looked sad overlooking her weariness. “Sam and I are headed to Alaska, with the way our luck has been, we’re following Garth’s lead. You can come if you’d like. I know it’s been weird with you and him since coming back, and Eileen, but everything’s going to work out.” Dean explained.

Isabel could feel her cheeks burn and she smirked. “Thanks for the offer, but a week stuck in a car with the two of you is a hard pass, I’ve done that before with Lucan it’s not fun.” She added laughing.

Dean smiled softly realizing it was the first time she had mentioned Lucan since being back together. “You two were really close.” He added.

Isabel smiled softly, nothing slowly as she pushed her bowl back. “We were married.” She admitted.

Dean stopped eating. “Excuse me?” He gasped. He put the memories together and things made more sense now. The way Lucan protected her and was defensive when he tried to flirt with her.

Isabel smirked giving a short nod. “It’s why we left the Extracvian. All the rules, you know two kids thinking they’ll make it. We did for a couple years; money was running out but with our last five grand I negotiated the bar owner to sell it to us. He wanted nothing to do with, something about attracting unwanted people.” She laughed at this statement, considering what the bar ended up being when they took it over.

Dean smirked, knowing she still had her powers then at this point. “You Jedi mind tricked the bar?” He laughed.

Isabel giggled, her hand on her chin. “Lucan mind tricked, not me. I could only read.” She let out a long sigh. “So yes, we were close. But that’s what happens with this job right?” She looked down staring at the milk in the bowl.

Dean’s smile faded and her stared at her carefully putting the pieces together still. “Where’d you go after?” He asked.

Isabel frowned a little. “Everywhere and no where. After Lucan died, I tried to help Annabel, but she wouldn’t leave the Extracvian and well, I wasn’t welcomed. My grandmother made sure of that. I just happened to keep them off me until my powers were gone, I figured theirs were too and I could finally live.” She explained.

Dean listened intently, his spoon in his bowl now. He knew that’s what she had always wanted, and he felt for that more than he’d like to admit. His elbows moved to the table, wondering what made her look for them. “What made you look for me?” He actually said it aloud this time, still wanting the answer, even though he guessed it probably wasn’t something he wanted to hear.

Isabel let out a sigh and shrugged. “Intuition, I followed the rumors. Killed a demon talking about the book of Winchester. No one ruling hell and God being gone. You boys are popular. Then I started having dreams about an end and I don’t know about you Dean, but I’m not ready for an end.” She smiled softly as she told her story. She let out a yawn, and took her bowl, picked up Deans, and went to the sink washing them.

Dean sighed, mentally agreeing with her, not saying a thing. He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering about how lonely it had to have been for her all this time. He was thankful Sam had followed him despite the circumstances. He watched her dry the dishes and stack them. She walked by him, patting his shoulder.

“Good night, Dean. Get some sleep before you head out.” She told him.

Dean nodded. “Yeah, good night” He called after her.

Isabel walked to the stairs and up to her room. She rested her forehead against the door and choked on a sob. Isabel’s heart sank, she hadn’t expected Lucan to affect her after all this time. She never really talked about her story and Dean seemed to have opened the wound she had carefully stitched. She let out a sniff, covering her mouth. She didn’t hear the footsteps, just felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, Sam catching her in his arms.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me.” He stopped catching the tears in her eyes. He pressed his lips together, not used to seeing her like this. He pulled her to him hugging her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

It didn’t help that Sam made her feel like she could move on, which also felt unfair at the same time. Isabel hugged him back, grateful for his care. “Maybe another time.” She replied, wiping her eye on the back of her hand.

Sam didn’t like seeing her sad, she was usually open, and her reservation threw him off. He looked down at her again, staring into her eyes, and pushed her hair back. “You know you can tell me anything right?” He added.

Isabel sniffled, slowly nodding, licking her lip. “Right.” She huffed. She pushed off him, turning back to her door and opening it.

Sam stepped forward and took her hand. “Isabel,” He stopped, not sure what he wanted to say. He realized he hadn’t mentioned her, none of his storylines and situations Chuck presented to him included her. He was curious as to why and he didn’t understand fully what was going on with her whenever Cas was around.

Isabel stopped and looked up at him. “What Sam? I’m not doing this with you, okay.” She twisted her hand out of his and walked further in her room.

Sam followed raising his hands in defense. A part of him wanted to hear her explain herself. “Doing what?” He asked.

Isabel stopped moving her clothes off her bed and turned to look at him. She didn’t understand her reaction either. “Have this conversation. Dean said you guys are heading to Alaska, you should get some rest. I’m staying here, Cas could come back and need some help.” She explained, she also knew she needed to look for Jack, coming back from the Empty didn’t seem to go really well.

Sam watched her put her clothes away and didn’t say anything else. He gave her a nod and left the room. Isabel stopped not feeling his presence anymore. She let out a sigh of relief, there was only so much she could handle this evening. She looked at her phone, seeing the time and turned out the light and went back to bed.

#spnfanficpond #supernatural x oc #oc x canon #spnfanfiction

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catchester · 4 years

Text

12 Days of Christmas

Title: Ten Lords a Leaping

Authors: @evieplease and @catchester

Which character: Actor!Tom and OFC Rocky

Genre: Humour/Explicit

Fic Summary: Tom and Rocky spend their first Christmas as a couple and Rocky meets Tom’s Mum for the first time. Expect 12 gifts, too much boozy, bad puns and lots of fun!

Rating: Mature

Previous Chapters: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17138390/chapters/40304798

Chapter 13 - 10 Lords a Leaping

Knowing that the Ten Lords a Leaping was looming, I’d spent ages wracking my brain to come up with something for Tom’s Tenth Day of Christmas present. Why did I ever agree to this mad scheme? But after his Nine Ladies Dancing I needed to raise the bar. Wait. Oh dear. If I couldn’t get Lords to Leap, maybe Tom and I could do the Leaping? From barre to bar? There are loads of pubs with Lords and Royalty in their names in the greater London metropolitan area!

An hour with google maps and Bob’s yer uncle! I had a list of pubs and a walking map. There were some really terrible pub names out there! I mean, The Royal Flush? Really? They’d better have excellent plumbing!

However, I found the best, most wonderful name of all. The Queen’s Scepter!! I can’t even think of it without laughing out loud! Though it sounds like it ought to be the name of a sex shoppe where one can buy really quality dildoes.

I arranged our pub ‘leaping’ so that all our stops were within walking distance. We’ll take a cab to the first one, because it’s The Queen’s Scepter, (snicker!) which was farthest away, walk from pub to pub, and take a cab back from the last one, as we’ll probably be legless by then.

I checked I had all my ‘leaping’ gear. I needed to be comfortable and warm for a long day in and out of doors. I wore the red wool peacoat that Tom had given me for Christmas of course, a rather deep cut v-neck black jumper, and my good jeans, the ones that cup my arse just right. I bounced on the toes of my old comfy black trainers, eager to get to our adventures.

A beaming Tom met me on the stoop, pulling me indoors, wrapping his arms around me and bending me back to kiss me as if he hadn’t kissed me in months, instead of just this morning.

Naturally, I gave as good as I got, my tongue dancing with his, my hands in his hair and my leg winding around his thigh. Finally he let me up for air and grinned down at me.

“Now will you tell me what you have planned for today?”

I grinned slyly back. The only clue I’d given him was to wear comfortable shoes. He’d taken it a little far, if you ask me, he looked more like he was going hiking, but that wax jacket with a hoodie underneath did suit him, and he was in those lovely old, soft, black jeans so I wasn't about to ask him to change! I kind of liked the tan Caterpillar boots, they gave his posh image a working man’s edge, which oddly suited him. I realised I’d been staring at him for longer than was perhaps appropriate.

“Um, right.” I surreptitiously checked for drool in the guise of fixing my lipstick. That might have been more suave if it hadn’t been lip balm.

“This was a tricky one! I mean, short of setting Parliament on fire, where the hell am I going to get Ten Lords a Leaping?! And anyway the lazy sods aren’t even in session!” I waved my arms about in exasperation.

Tom looked faintly alarmed. “Well, not to mention that it is Christmas, and you’re not Guy Fawkes, after all!”

“And aren’t you glad I’m not!” I wriggled my bum and batted my eyelashes at him, just to remind him how lucky he is. “So, while I wouldn’t mind doing something that would shift that lot off their arses, I can hardly wait to see what you’ve laid on for Eleven Pipers Piping, and I don’t want to be languishing at Her Majesty’s pleasure for it! Plus, your Nine Ladies Dancing was so brilliant! I needed to raise the barre, so to speak… And anyway, they say that ten out of Ten Lords proof-er drinking in the daytime!”

Tom glanced out the window at the chilly, grey day. “So we’re going to a pub...?” He frowned. “What does that have to do with Lords a Leaping?”

I crossed my arms and shook my head in mock disapproval at his slowness.

“Well, I figured that if the lazy bastards won’t leap to it, it’ll have to be our job! And there are loads of pubs named after Lords and other Royalty, so we’re going on a Ten Lords Pub Leaping!”

Tom choked “Good Lord! That’s…so bad, it’s actually good!”

“Why thank you,” I curtsied. “So you approve, then?”

“Certainly! It sounds marvelous fun!”

“Well, I’m glad I won’t have to gin up any excitement, because I’ve been tankering with the list of pubs and maps all morning!”

“And will we have to order particular drinks at each of these noble establishments?”

“Nah. Let’s just play it by beer.”

“ Well, you’ve done an excellent job, as far as I can see.”

“It’s ale in a days work!”

Pulling up to the Queen’s Sceptre, Tom stepped from the cab onto the kerb and gallantly offered me a hand out. I stifled a snicker. If my Posh Idiot wants to treat me like a grand lady, am I going to object?

Besides, his hand was warm when I slid my cold fingers into his palm, and when he tugged me onto my feet he met me with a kiss. I shivered in the cool damp air and he bundled me into the pub.

The Queen’s Sceptre was a traditional olde worlde pub with dark beams overhead and a quiet fire in the fireplace, immediately warming us.

Tom helped me off with my coat. “Thank you again for my pretty wool coat, Tom.” I stroked the sleeve. Tom smiled, pleased. “It’s totally baa-aa-d-ass!”

Now he groaned and rolled his eyes. “You know, when I was shopping for your gift, I had a conversation with myself…” he trailed off expectantly. Ok, I’ll play.

“Oh yes? Do tell!” I raised an enquiring eyebrow.

“It’s a coat, I said to myself. What could possibly go wrong with a coat, I asked myself. I totally forgot to check for puns!”

I stood on my toes and kissed the end of his nose. “Now you know! It’s good to learn something new each day, right? You should write it up as a life-hack!”

“What, and give some runny nosed kid online the opportunity to say ‘Ok, boomer’ to me? I think snot.” Tom raised an offended eyebrow and I snickered. I’d like to see some kid try to get away with calling Tom old!

After we ordered our drinks at the bar, I plopped down on the bench and looked around the scarred old place. There were cracks in the plaster, probably left over from the London bombings during the war. The rough wood floor had probably never been polished, the tabletops were gouged and scratched, and the mullioned windows were filled with wavy, bubbled old glass. There were only a couple of other drinkers there. But the place was perfect. It carried the rich, warm, smell of good ale, and the scent of the logs burning on the fire.

“Your sheep impersonation needs some work, by the way,” he told me. “That ‘baa’ sound needs to come from the throat,” he rubbed his hand suggestively along his throat, tracing a finger around his adam’s apple. “You need to practice until you can literally feel the vibration and-”

I stared at him, my mouth falling open. Was he seriously trying to give me an acting lesson here to improve my sheep bleating?? I’m supposed to be the weird one in this relationship, not him!

“Then with a little-” he stopped and burst out laughing. “I’m sorry... your face!” he said between guffaws.

I could feel my blush rising but hopefully he’d think it was still from the cold outside. He’d got me, but there was no way I was going to admit that!

Fortunately the barman interrupted for our drinks order. I went for a lager, and Tom asked for a glass of wine, whee aren’t we adventurous?

Soon we were sitting at a table in the window of the nearly empty pub, looking out at the grey day.

“I have to say, I’m impressed by your choice of a pub crawl,” Tom grinned at me over his wine, his eyes twinkling merrily. “This ought to be interesting, since you can’t hold your liquor.”

“Can too!” I drew myself up indignantly.

“Darling,” he drawled, “you were three sheets to the wind the first time you met my mother! Your first words to her were, if I remember correctly, to stumble over calling her ‘Mum’, ‘Hiddleston’ and ‘Mrs. Posh Idiot’! You were squiffy!

“How long are you going to bludgeon me with that one for?” I teased. “But, that’s fair,” I nodded judiciously. “Of course I’d had nearly half a bottle of scotch on my own, and it was all your fault!”

“My fault?! How was you turning up trolleyed my fault?”

“She was your mother!”

Tom blinked, confused. “Well yes, she was. I mean, she still is.” He shook his head. “What’s your point?”

I rolled my eyes. “Obviously, I’d never have got drunk in front of your mother if you hadn’t insisted on introducing me! It stands to riesling.”

“You’re treading a vine line, there.” He snorted and looked skeptical, but he had to concede my logic. Reluctantly.

“Now let’s have a look at this list of Lordly pubs of yours.”

I pulled the list and map from my bag and set them in front of Tom with a flourish:

The Queens Sceptre

Sir Vesa’s

The Lord Lucan

The Royal Flush

The Barons Bollocks

The Duchess and Tipple

Down for the Count

The Bloody Queen Mary

The Earls Whiskers

The Laird of Scotch

The Princes Licker

The Rummy Lord

The Fresh Prince

The Dukes Drunk Ducks

The Kings Cocktail

Tom ran a finger down the list and laughed. “You’ve got fifteen pubs listed here, love, not ten!

“Hey, it’s not my fault that London publicans have an over fondness for kissing Royal arse!” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, some of them are too far away for our walking programme. I only included the ten in walking distance of each other. Check the map. See?”

Tom flipped the list over and looked at our proposed ‘leaping’ route.

Tom laughed, pointing at The Prince’s Licker.

“Is that really what it’s called? The Prince’s Licker??”

I grinned. “Well no, it’s spelled Liquor. But I like my spelling better, as in ‘Candy is dandy, but lick-her is quicker to her heart’!”

Tom pulled me closer and nuzzled behind my ear. “It certainly is with you.”

I nuzzled back. “And you have a very good licker…” I trailed off suggestively.

Tom promptly licked a broad, very wet stripe up my cheek as I squealed and ducked away. “Guess I deserved that,” I said ruefully, scrubbing at my face with the sleeve of my jumper. Tom innocently drank from his glass, returning his attention to the list.

“The Lord Lucan.” he mused. “Isn't he the one who murdered his nanny, tried to murder his wife, and then disappeared, never to be seen again?”

“Yes,” I said with a grin. The macabre nature of the pub’s namesake had played a little into my choice. “You order your drinks at the bar, then they hide them and you have to find them before you can drink.”

“Are you serious?”

“No,” I laughed. “But it is said that only 50% of customers are ever seen again.”

He wasn't falling for it this time, no matter how deadpan my delivery.

“And the staff all carry pokers to bludgeon rude customers?” he suggested.

“Not far off,” I grinned and explained. “They stage murder mystery nights once a month, so if we like it here, we could try one sometime.”

“That sounds perfectly gruesome. We should go some evening.”

“I’ll check their schedule.” I promised. “You can’t get near it at Halloween, but it should be ok at any other time of the year.”

Tom looked back at our list. He grimaced at the next one.

“The Royal Flush? What is that?”

“I know, right? I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a pub, a gambling hell, or a shop that sells gold toilets!“

“I don’t know, darling. I don’t have high hops for a pub that has the word Flush right in its name.”

“Yeah, I think urine trouble if they can’t come up with a better name for a pub! It’s out of our walking zone, so we’re spared that one, anyway. What about the next one?”

“The Barons Bollocks?” Tom narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you spell that one wrong as well?”

I laughed. “Maybe? It used to be called the Barons Bullock, but some wag went and painted over the original letters on the sign. Every time the landlord fixed it, someone would come round and change it back. Eventually the landlord just gave up and left it that way. I hear their drinks are strong enough to put hair on your chest, and further south!”

“But darling, I like your chest just the way it is!” Tom traced a finger along the neckline of my jumper.

I glanced down. Oops. There was a bit too much of the girls on display for the public. I gave my jumper a tug and Tom sat back looking disappointed.

“Too bad.” I consoled him in mock sorrow. “But I wouldn’t want to get a chest cold.”

“Or a cold chest, I suppose.” Tom brightened and nuzzled my ear. “But I’d be happy to warm them up for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” I said dryly. I shook the pub list at him to get his attention off my boobs.

“The Duchess and Tipple is supposed to have quite a good wine cellar. And they have 2 for 1 House wine at happy hour!”

“Well, that’s an offer we decant refuse!

We finished our drinks at the Queen’s Sceptre and pulled on our coats. I grabbed Tom’s hand, tugging him out the door.

“Come on, Sir Vesa’s is only hops, skip and a jump from here!” I did my best to hop, skip and jump, but it’s not as easy as it sounds.

“Come on!” I urged Tom, who was laughing as he watched me. “Live a little!”

“How far is this pub?” he asked.

“According to the map, we’re only a quarter of a mile away.” I gave him my best side eye. “Yeah, you’re probably too old to skip for that long.”

His eyes narrowed. I was going to pay for that quip later. I couldn't wait!

“Fine.”

And so we ended up going this weird sort of flailing hop scotch dance down the pavement. Do you know how hard it is to hop, skip, and jump while laughing and dodging other, more sedate walkers? For a miracle nobody grumbled at our cavorting like ninnies, some even laughed and joined us for a hop or two! It must be the season.

Laughing and breathless from leaping about playing silly buggers down the pavement, I saw my chance. A narrow space between buildings was dark, a street light shining faintly through at the end of the gap, showing that the space was deserted. It was just the thing!

I tugged his hand and pulled him into the dark, turning and slinging my arm around his neck, reaching up on my toes to lick my way into his mouth.

Fingers ran over my cheek and down my neck, moving around my nape to dig into my hair and return the favour.

Tom braced himself with a hand on the bricks beside my head, brushing his lips teasingly across mine, but I wasn’t having it. I wanted his body against mine, and wrapped my hands in his jacket, pulling to grind against him. Tom chuckled into my mouth.

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?”

“Oh, you have no idea…”

The warm wool of my coat cushioned me against the frigid brick wall at my back, but I could still feel the chill seeping through. It was bloody cold out there! Tom, however, was warming my front nicely, his body pressing into mine as he took over the kiss, heating me up from the inside. I wanted to put my hands in his hair, but my damned gloves…

Tom lifted his head, searching my face for something. I was about to pull him down for another kiss just to see if he really could make me burst into flames, when he startled and his head whipped toward the entrance of our dark little niche.

I’d been so lost in his kisses that I hadn’t even noticed the chattering and noise of passersby until that moment. A loud burst of laughter echoed around us as a group of men walked past, joking and pushing each other as they passed only a couple of meters from us.

Tom took a step back with a shake of his head and a regretful sigh. Yeah, that place was too public, and I didn’t fancy getting caught doing Tom Hiddleston in a dark alley! I’m not into exhibitionism anyway, and the reminder that we were nearly in public cooled me right off.

I shrugged and grinned ruefully at Tom, standing on my toes for a quick brushing kiss over his lips.

“Baby, it’s cold outside…” I sang. Tom chuckled.

“Then let us repair to somewhere warmer. Perhaps to yon public house?” Tom made a grand sweeping gesture and offered me his arm with a bow.

“Delighted, good Sir!” I laughingly tucked my hand in his elbow and he drew me back onto the busy pavement, nonchalantly merging us into the bustling foot traffic without a ripple. We were only a couple of doors from our destination.

Sir Vesa’s turned out to be surprisingly posh, with menus at the tables and waitstaff to take your order. My tummy rumbled. I immediately determined that I hadn’t had enough chips in my life.

“Oh look! I pointed at the drinks menu. They have Budweiser on tap! I’ve never had any, have you?

Tom made an adorable moue of disgust. “I have. Listen to me well when I tell you, Bud you’d be wieser to choose something else.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like watered down goat piss!” Tom muttered quietly.

I choked. Eugh! I flipped the menu over, glancing down the list. “Oh, do they have that here?” i feigned innocence.

Tom looked at the menu over my shoulder, pretending to be serious. “Doesn’t look like it. Nope, no goat’s piss. Only the Budweiser.”

“You mean they don’t have real goat’s piss on offer, they only have the artificial stuff in a Budweiser can?? Well, all I can say is that’s a bitter pils to swallow!” I made my most outraged face and looked ‘round for the barman.

Tom slid an arm over my shoulders, holding me firmly in my seat, obviously not trusting me not to leap up and give the barman a piece of my mind on his lack of authentic goat’s piss. Wise man, our Tom.

“Now darling, you mustn’t harass the barman over his stock. You wouldn’t want to booze his ego, would you?”

“Who said anything about egos?” I eyed the man behind the bar. “He looks a stout young man, but I bet I could take ‘im…”

“Darling, I forbid you to take the poor man anywhere!! I’ll nip this in the bud!” And then Tom used his patented distraction technique, snogging me until I forgot what I was saying.

“Mmmm.” I blinked my eyes open and tried to stop my knees wobbling. Well, that was… refreshing. “Um. What was I saying?”

“We were perusing the menu,” Tom said with a sly smile, and I turned my attention back to the menu in my hand. Luckily while page one was the tried and not-so-true international brands, page two made this beer bar worth the visit. Of course the cervesa pun didn’t hurt, either! I don’t think you could have kept us out once we heard that name.

The various beers were described like a posh wine menu that had been turned into beer porn.

For example, Vienna Pale was described as “Based on the classic Vienna Lager style (though technically an ale), and annoyer of a certain type of beer geek, Vienna Pale is a sweet, malty drinking pint, with plenty of Saaz, Citra and Cascade dry-hopping to keep things interesting”.

I giggled over the menu. It might have been a little pretentious, if someone hadn’t come along and dirtied up the prose, but what the hell.

In the end, I chose a Pilot Bucks Peach, of which the menu said ‘Pilot is a Leith microbrewery that specialises in kick-arse brews. Lovingly handcrafted by braw men in kilts, it’ll lay you out with a smile on your face!’

Apparently it came in flavours! I didn’t fancy the mochachino flavoured one, which seemed more like a breakfast beer, if there is such a thing, but the Buck’s Peach sounded good.

Tom opted for one called, with devastating originality, An IPA.

I knew that meant an India Pale Ale. It was described as “An interpretation of the challenge ‘Create a New Scotland IPA’. A mix of malted oats and barley, then dry hopped both during active fermentation, then once fermentation is complete. A juicy, orgasmic starburst of a beer.”

“Tom, you know that it’s just beer, right? I mean it’s a bit much to expect the earth to move from a beer..” I cautioned him, shaking my head at the over-the-top description.

Tom’s lips twitched.. “But I have such high hops for it!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hope it moves you to cheers!” I patted his hand. “If the earth doesn’t move, I’ll move it for you when we get home, dear.”

The beer turned out to be pretty good, but nowhere good enough to move anyone’s earth. Eh, the chips were much better, golden crisp on the outside, lovely, hot, and mealy in the center. With lashings of salt and malt vinegar they were the orgasmic item on the menu!

Tom took the last chip on my plate as I was swallowing the last of my Bucks Peach, which was a good lager, but not peachy at all. My other hand came down on his wrist, pinning it to the table. I carefully set my glass down and narrowed my eyes at him.

The fucker gave me those big puppy dog eyes and I lost all desire to fight him for it. I let go his wrist and gently took the chip from him, brushing his lips tantalizingly with it.

Tom delicately took it between his teeth and nibbled it down to my fingertips, licking the last of the salt away.

I sighed. “The sacrifries I make for you…” and shook my head. Tom chuckled.

“Darling, I always pay my debts.” His hand slid around to the nape of my neck and he leaned in to take my lips in a searing kiss that I felt all the way down to my toes.

“That’s only the down payment, you’ll get the balance when we get home,” he murmured against my lips. I tried not to whimper too loudly when he sat up.

“Right. Get off your heineken, it’s time to go. What’s next?” Suddenly Tom is all business. I blinked, and after a moment to gather myself, got the list from my bag.

“It says here The Lairds Scotch. And it’s only three doors down.”

A quick dash into the cold and we were there.

Tom took my coat, and when he came back I nodded at the bar, turning innocent eyes up at him.

“If you ask the barman to help you find the good scotch does that make him your spirit-guide?”

“Dear god, I hope so,” he groaned. “I’m going to need all the spiritual help I can get after that clanker!”

“Oh look,” I pointed to an upright piano next to the opposite wall to change the subject. I could just imagine people having a sing-song around it in the old days. “You should give us a tune,” I cajoled as we stepped up to the bar.

Tom ordered a Laphroig, but I couldn’t face any more scotch after my last go round. I asked for a G&T.

“It doesn't look like it’s been tuned since the war,” Tom deflected.

“They play it every Sat’de,” an elderly gentleman at the next table interrupted. “Owner’s son is studying music and he or one o’ ‘is friends play for us every weekend.” He nodded judiciously. “They’re not bad.”

Tom did not look thrilled by this news, but I’d seen his eyes linger longingly on the old piano.

“There you go,” I smiled smugly as I sipped my G and T.

“If I’m playing, you’re singing,” he challenged.

Ooh! Things just got interesting. Well, whatever my reluctance to be caught singing in public, if he wanted this, then I would give it to him. But I’d make him work for it!

“Is that right?”

“Of course, the only song I know is Little Drummer Boy,” he said as if that settled it. Bloody hell, I hate that song!

“No,” I shook my head. “There will be no pa-rum-pa-pums! Besides,” I sassed, “Drummers are the twelfth day of Christmas! And I definitely remember your Mum saying something about how you’d regale them with Christmas carols every year until you left for Uni!”

“My darling,” He affected a world weary air. “Do you have any idea how long ago university was for me?”

“Sure, grandpa,” I teased. “But you don’t play something for that many years and just forget it.”

I polished off my G&T, and went to order another from the barman. I’d need more booze to get me up to the piano. Either I sing better when I’ve had a good belt, or I only think I do. But it’s all in the mind, right? Let’s hear is for Dutch Courage!

I brought another scotch for Tom as well, even though he doesn’t actually need any Dutch Courage to perform. He’s in his element. But fair is fair, right? If I need to get tipsy to sing in public, well, he’s just going to have to keep up!

“I’ll tell you one I do remember.” The twinkle in his eye had an evil slant.

“Hmm?” I was cautious. God knows what he’d come up with

“I’ll be Home for Christmas.”

I smiled smugly. He thought he’d stump me? Ha! I know that song. By heart, even. I love that old tune. Dad had a bunch of old LP’s, and an honest-to-god turntable, and he loved to play the old songs at Christmas time. His favourites, and mine as well, were Nat King Cole, and Bing Crosby.

But I decided to be difficult. Anyway, if he thinks I don’t know the tune, he’s in for a surprise! And there’s nothing I like better than surprising Tom.

“Sorry, I don’t know the lyrics.”

“And you say I’m the old one,” He laughed. “Google them on your phone, you numpty!” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head despairingly.

Yeah, I was sort of hoping he wouldn’t think of that. What the hell, I’d made him work hard enough for it. I relented. Besides, he has to pay for that ‘numpty’ crack!

“Bring it.” I tossed my hair behind my back and straightened my jumper, giving it a little tug downward to distract him.

It’s a song written from the perspective of a soldier in World War II, to his girl back home.”

His eyes closed and I could see him relax, his shoulders went down and his head fell forward, drawing a deep breath in and letting it out slowly. His long fingers carefully picked out the tune as if reminding himself how it went.

His fingers danced over the keys as he launched into the slow, romantic song. It did have a world war two vibe to it. I swear he could have been one of those old fashioned crooners as he began to sing in his smooth baritone. I shouldn’t have been surprised, he’s an amazing mimic, and I saw I Saw the Light.

“I'll be home for Christmas...You can plan on me… Please have snow, and mistletoe...and presents by the tree…”

Tom lifted his chin at me, commanding me to sing with him. I smiled and purposely set my mobile down on the piano, joining in with my alto voice.

“Christmas Eve will find you...Where the love light gleams...I'll be home for Christmas...If only in my dreams…”

The old gent and his friends, as well as the barman joined in and sang the rest with us. They clapped when we’d finished, encouraging Tom to play more.

One of the old gents waved his pint glass at us. “Can you give us Oh Holy Night, lad?

Tom nodded. “If you don’t mind the odd stumble, I might just manage it, “ Tom said modestly. Then he launched into the old church music, the old men singing along with us. Dad had always dragged us to Christmas services, so I was able to keep up.

Where I didn’t remember the verse, I sipped at my G&T and enjoyed the men’s voices winding together. They weren’t half bad! Everybody clapped happily at the end, egging Tom on to play another.

Tom laughingly agreed, sliding me a sly challenging look. He was a picture, his face flushed with exhilaration and happiness. It’s a good look on him. And it melts my knickers!

“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…” There went that challenging eyebrow. I wrinkled my nose at him and joined in.

“Jack Frost nipping at your toes...Yuletide carols being sung by a choir...And folks dressed up like Eskimos…”

The old gents were silent, not knowing the lyrics, I suppose. So we gave them a duet. Dad would have been proud.

When we’d finished and the last lingering note faded the gents applauded and called compliments, offering us another round, which we both declined. But we gave them Auld Lang Syne for an encore, and they all joined in. Tom laughingly refused requests for more.

“I’d better get back to my date, or there won’t be any kisses for me tonight!” he kidded. “And she’s ever so much better looking than you lot! Thanks for letting me play your piano!”

I tend to forget that Tom is such a born performer until moments like that. Watching him perform for an audience is like watching a rose bloom on fast forward; all that is hidden quietly away burst into full colour, and everyone nearby just basks in it.

When we went to finish our drinks back at our table, I slid into his lap, nuzzling his hair and wrapping my arms around him wordlessly. He is so precious to me, and I’m not making a Lord of the Rings joke.

At the Duchess and Tipple Tom made me drink a big glass of water after I called it the Duchess and Nipple, and couldn’t stop giggling. We agreed it was time for dinner.

“How about the Dukes Drunk Ducks? That’s not too far from here.”

“The what?”

“Dukes Drunk Ducks. It’s an old legend. It used to be called The Dukes Duck. One day the landlady came down to find all her ducks dead. Being a practical sort, she shrugged and put duck on the menu for that night. But as she was preparing them to cook, they woke up! Apparently they were only drunk and passed out after drinking from a leaking barrel of ale, not dead, and the name kind of stuck.”

“Yeah, okay, they sound like ducks I’d want to know.”

“I haven't been there for a few years but they used to do good food too.”

I checked my watch. “We do need something to soak up the alcohol,” I agreed. That and the mile long walk there should help sober us up enough to finish the crawl, I mean ‘Leap’, without being totally blotto. A good night out is no fun if you can’t remember it the next day!

“We’d best have a pee before we leave,” Tom cautioned.

“Good idea.” Yeah, a mile long walk with crossed legs didn't sound like much fun.

***

The Drunk Duck took its name and theme very seriously. Every wall was adorned with pictures of ducks, including duck portraits of ducks in Victorian clothing, some in military uniforms with high ranking titles.

Mr Firequacker, Sir Quacks a Lot, and Admiral Moby Duck were among my favorite names, although the fanged duck in a black cape titled Count Quackula topped my fav list.

“I’m surprised they don’t have duck a l'orange,” I said.

“You don’t kill your namesake,” Tom said with mock shock, clutching his chest.

“I don’t care how much I like this place, I am not giving up crispy duck pancakes with hoisin sauce. Not even if I can never look another duck in the eye again.”

Tom Laughed as the waiter set our plates in front of us, wished us bon appetit, and bustled off. I smiled at Tom over my Shepherds Pie and he smiled fondly back, and we both took a bite.

“It’s pretty good stuff, this.” I scooped a bit more onto the back of my fork.

“Not as good as yours, though.”

“Well, cheers!” I lifted my glass of wine and tilted my glass to him.

“Mm. Pudding was even better, as I recall.” Tom purred, sending shivers down my spine. My brow furrowed. I didn’t remember any pudding.

“What pudding ? We drank beer and watched Lawrence Llewellyn-Bowen destroy some poor sod’s house!”

Tom wiped his mouth with his serviette and grinned wickedly.

“Oh yes! I distinctly remember I had a couple of lovely frozen bombes with cherries on top.” Tom’s eyes fell to the v-neck of my jumper, and I felt my face warm.

“Uh huh. Icy what you did there.”

We each nursed only one glass of wine during the meal, but we ordered water too and stayed for desert. I was feeling almost sober as we left, but I could do with the walk to the next bar to help the food digest.

“Where to?” Tom asked as we stepped out the door.

“Oh, um…” I felt my pockets but couldn’t find the list. “The Bloody Bits of Barons or something?”

“Do you mean The Barron’s Bollocks?”

“That’s the one. But I think my name is better.”

“Definitely more memorable, darling,” Tom piped up. “And rather bloodthirsty. If I ever become a publican I shall definitely call my establishment The Baron’s Bollocks.” He discretely hid a belch behind his hand.

God, I adored that cut glass accent of his. He could say absolutely ridiculous things like that and still sound like a sexy toff. It wasn't fair! I was about 50% sure I was drooling by now, and I’m absolutely certain that my mascara has migrated south since I put it on before we left. Tom meanwhile just had that sexy, tousled look about him. All he needs is some lipstick. Which I was happy to provide! I grabbed his chin and snogged him hard. Leaning back, I surveyed him. Damn, that shade looks as good on him as it does on me.

I eventually found my list in a pocket I was sure I’d checked three times already.

I slipped my arm through Tom’s and leaned my head on his shoulder, sighing contentedly as we strolled along.

“You seem happy.” Tom noted.

“Mmm,” I wrapped my other arm around his too.

“If I’d known feeding you was all it took to tame the beast, I’d have tried it months ago,” he laughed.

The idea of having been tamed made me giggle. Okay, maybe I wasn't quite as sober as I felt, but I was feeling very happy right now, even if I was freezing my metaphorical bollocks off.

“Feeding’s not the only thing that tames me,” I purred, but the effect was rather ruined when I slipped on a patch of ice. Luckily Tom was there to catch me up. I might have hammed it up a bit.

“We still have three more pubs to get to!” Tom groaned, scrubbing at his face to wake himself up

“No, two more!” I corrected.

“Three!”

“Look, mister, this is my day and if you keep arguing, it’ll be four.” I crossed my arms and glared at him. We’d been arguing about whether it was Ten or Eleven Lords a Leaping all evening. Tom liked the alliteration, the drunk posh idiot. Alliteration! I ask you!

“But, that’s brewtal! I’m sure-”

“Five.”

“Alright! Okay, you win! Please don't make me go to five more pubs! We’ll be drunk as Lords until Easter!”

“Now see how much easier it is when you agree with me?” I smiled my victory and batted my eyelashes.

“Well the alliteration is still better with Eleven Lords a Leaping,” he grumbled, “but if you make us go to 13 pubs neither of us will be having much fun after! So, what’s it going to be?

“Fine, we can skip the Duke of Marlborough. Never liked his ciggies anyway.” I drew a rather drunken line through the name, and Tom took it from me, stuffing it in his pocket.

Tom grinned, pleased to have won. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Oh yes you will!! What’s next?” I patted my pockets again. Wait. Now Tom had my list as well! But he had an excellent memory. Well, he did when he wasn't drunk. I reached for his pocket to retrieve the list of pubs, but he wasn’t having it. After tussling with him for a minute I gave up and tried for a stern expression.

“Hang on, this is my game! I make the rules.” I tilted my head, thinking hard. “It is my game, right?”

Tom snickered into his pint of cider. “You, my darling, are drunk.”

“You wouldn't exactly pass a breathalyser either, buddy! Better still, I’d like to see you do those American tests, where you walk heel to toe and touch your finger to your nose!” I swayed as I made my point. What was it again?

“I’d rather touch your nose,” Tom smouldered as he leaned in close, his nose inches from mine.

I shook my head as if shaking off a stupor. “Hey, no fair using The Smoulder to distract me!” I paused, trying to puzzle out where I was going with this. “Um, what were you distracting me from, anyway?”

“Hell if I know.”

“My good sir, you are snockered!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Not!”

“Too!”

“That’s the way to do it,” the barman said with a chuckle as he wiped down the neighbouring table.

“Sorry?” Tom asked.

“Am not, are too?” he imitated them. “I thought you were doing pantomime. ‘Tis the season, right?”

“‘That’s the way to do it’ is Punch and Judy,” I corrected him.

“Oh no it isn’t,” the barman teased.

“Oh yes it is!”

“This could go on for a while and I need to pee.” Tom drained the rest of his cider before he stood up and headed for the toilets. “Behave yourself!” he shot over his shoulder as he ambled away.

“Right, onward to the next bacchanalia! The Bloody Queen Mary was it?”

I pulled the list from my pocket and unfolded it. “Yes.”

We staggered out into the cold night air. I breathed deeply, letting it sober me up a little.

Not that I was roaring drunk. Not quite. Not yet. This next one was our second to last pub of the night though, and we were only having one each. Two more couldn't hurt too much, right?

Down for the Count was our final pub of the night and I held up my glass of sherry and giggled. I was definitely getting tiddly. And naughty. “Here’s to every Tom’s Dick and Sherry!”

“That, my dear, was a toastament to bad puns! And who’s this Sherry bird, anyway?” Tom squinted at me. “You aren’t setting up a threesome are you?”

“No fear,” I snickered, “I don’t think Tom’s dick would be up to the job after all this!” I waved my glass around, spilling it over the rim.

Tom grinned. “Apparently Sherry is sloshed as well!”

I snickered and made a small noise of annoyance at the sherry trailing down my wrist, glancing around for something to wipe it off, but there were only glasses and coasters on the small table.

Tom tisked, taking my glass from me and lifting my hand to his mouth. “May I?” The fucking smoulder was back.

“Be my guest.” My voice had gone all breathy, and I swallowed hard as his tongue came out and delicately licked the trickle of sherry from my wrist to my fingers.

Hot blue eyes stared into mine as he sucked a finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around each one to clean the sticky sherry from my fingers.

I breathed out hard, squirming in my seat to ease the need building below as he left a kiss in my palm.

“Mmm. Sherry tastes sweet, but you taste sweeter…”

“I’ll call us a cab,”

It started to snow on our way home in the cab, just light flurries at first, and then big, fat flakes drifting down out of the sky just as we were climbing out of the cab in front of Tom’s.

The cab left, and Tom wrapped his arms around me, turning my back to his front, and setting his cheek next to mine. We stood on his top step, tranquilly watching the snow fall , peacefully muffling the city noises all around us, listening to each other’s breathing as it fogged in the cold air.

Tom was warm at my back and I leaned against him, wrapping my own arms over his, and just simply enjoying the quiet moments.

Eventually I realised that I needed to pee. With that came the awareness that my feet were freezing in their trainers, and a headache was beginning to bloom behind my eyes.

I turned my head back and up, kissing Tom’s cool lips for a long luxurious moment.

I whispered in his ear, “I really need to pee.”

He didn’t laugh, he simply nodded and fished his keys out of his pocket and let us in. Tom took my coat as I kicked my trainers off and padded through the dark house to the loo.

I gasped when I flipped the switch, light stabbing through my eyes and waking my incipient headache. I quickly flipped the light off, deciding that there were some things that I was perfectly capable of doing in the dark.

I did what I needed to do and had a quick wash before I opened the door and found Tom leaning on the wall opposite, with two bottles of water and a bottle of paracetamol crooked in his elbow against his chest.

He took my hand and quietly drew me up the stairs, undressed me, and sat me on the bed. Setting down his burden, he twisted the cap off a bottle of cold water and handed it to me, quickly doing the same for himself.

“One more drink, darling. What shall we drink to?”

“Don’t know, don’t care!”

“That’s good enough!”

He tapped his water bottle against mine and we both drank thirstily. I moaned at the cool liquid sliding down my throat, it felt so good.

“Nothing like copious amounts of alcohol to dry you out.” Tom set his half empty bottle down and opened the paracetamol, tapping two out on his palm and offering them to me.

I’m nobody’s fool, I took the damn pills even though I detest swallowing them. If I didn’t I knew I’d be sorry in the morning.

I fell back on the bed with a groan. Tom settled me under the blankets, chuckling and ignoring my uncoordinated attempt to do it. I gave up and let him man handle me because I really was tired.

Stripping off as he made his way a little carefully into the ensuite, I listened drowsily to the homey sound of Tom humming to himself as he did whatever. I think it might have been a bit of the Nutcracker. My eyes were drifting shut on the slightly swaying bed, feeling warm and sleepy.

Tom lifted the blankets and slid in next to me, wrapping around me and dropping a kiss below my ear.

I woke some time before dawn with Tom’s warm body spooned around me from behind, and my bloody phone ringing far too loudly.

14 notes · View notes

vitanes · 5 years

Text

say it’s okay when it’s not

chapter 14: just friends?

Everything is very messy and needs plenty of patience, Lucas has an epiphany and certain truths come out.

Everything happens so quickly that Lucas is barely aware of his surroundings. He goes through the motions in a daze. It takes so much effort to keep Eliott with them until his parents arrive. Once they do, Arthur steps out to explain the situation but only gets a word in before Eliott’s mom shushes him and looks over them.

Scared, stoned teenagers. Anxiously fidgeting in place.

She clicks her tongue as her husband tries to convince Eliott to go with him. Lucas’ keeps his eyes on the woman, not sure he can handle watching Eliott. He’s worried Eliott won’t go with them, will run off. So if he doesn’t see it, Lucas can pretend nothing bad is happening.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” she asks, her tone stern. They don’t know what she’s talking about, but all of them shake their heads nonetheless. After all, Eliott has never told either of them anything that could have prepared them for this. “What were you doing before this started?”

Arthur opens his mouth. “Um… just relax–“

“We smoke,” Basile cuts in with a serious expression on his face. “Pot,” he adds and Eliott’s mom sighs deeply.

“I told you, we should have come after he stopped answering,” she says to her husband.

“It’s my fault. Like always,” the man mutters under his nose. “He’s probably been off medication for too long.”

Being here feels wrong. Eliott deserves privacy and as much as Lucas hates to admit it, he definitely isn’t fit for this situation. He’s helpless, like all those times with his mom. All he can do is stand and stare.

“You boys should go,” Eliott’s mom says, smiling tiredly at them. “It’s getting dark, go home. We’ll take care of him now.”

They all retreat slowly and the next thing Lucas knows, he’s standing in the doorway of his flat on shaking legs. He doesn’t remember parting with the boys or getting a tram to get home. His mind is full of white noise and he isn’t sure he can feel his body.

Lucas failed. He should have known. Eliott and he are friends, Eliott likes him, but Lucas didn’t make him trust him enough. He should have tried harder to be there for him so now this wouldn’t have caught them off guard. And even in his helpless state, Lucas should’ve been able to do something. He’s got experience after years of seeing his mom being ill. But all he did was observe from the sides while the others were trying to console Eliott as much as possible.

And the worst of it all, Lucas was scared. Selfishly scared when Eliott kept getting worse and worse. Lucas could feel his heartbeat speed up every time Eliott said more and more concerning things when they were waiting for his parents. Sure, he was worried about Eliott, but he was also terrified. It’s something he’s ashamed of.

Lucas is a useless coward and he thinks that Eliott could do so much better than him. Fuck, he deserves so much better than someone being scared of approaching him when he’s at his lowest.

“Hey, bud, everything alright?” someone says and Lucas’ head shoots up. Mika is watching him carefully and only then does Lucas realise how badly he’s trembling.

“Something bad happened with Eliott and I couldn’t be there for him,” Lucas says, his voice breaking halfway through.

“Oh, Lucas… come here,” Mika lets out, frowning and opens his arms wide for him. Normally Lucas isn’t a big fan of that kind of affection, but this time, he crosses the distance between them in two steps and buries his face in Mika’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around his middle. Soon enough he’s comfortingly engulfed by Mika and can let a shuddering breath out.

“I couldn’t do anything for my mom and I couldn’t do anything for Eliott. People keep on giving me so much, but I can’t even do one single thing for them,” Lucas mumbles.

“Don’t say that. You make it sound like you’re so selfish,” Mika whispers. “What happened with Eliott?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles over Lucas’ back.

“His parents didn’t say what exactly it is, but I think he’s ill,” Lucas says and then launches into retelling the events of the evening. As embarrassed as it makes him feel, he doesn’t skip the part when he was lying next to Eliott and they held hands. At this moment he puts his own feelings aside and says how it was. Mentions how unnerving Eliott talking about dying was.

Mika keeps holding onto him, listening. Lucas stumbles over his words the further he goes into the story, realising how much he tuned out by the end. There are so many gaps he can’t fill in so he pathetically finishes with, “Then his mom told us to leave,” and waits for a response.

“That’s a lot, huh?” Mika asks after a minute or two of complete silence. “Shit, poor Eliott. I know you’re blaming yourself for not doing anything, but you had no idea, right? Nothing could have prepared you for this. What matters is that you were all with him and that he’s safe,” Mika says and something about his words slaps Lucas across the face.

God, hasn’t he said something similar to Arthur when he was blaming himself for what’s happened to Lucas?

They didn’t know because Eliott didn’t want them to know. He hid it from them on purpose and like with Lucas, it backfired, but as Mika has said, nothing could have made them ready for that.

Although, Lucas can’t help but think that if he had tried harder, then Eliott would have had more trust in him.

“Once all of this is over, just talk with Eliott,” Mika adds, patting Lucas on the back. “You must be tired. Take a shower, lie down,” he suggests.

Lucas pulls away and sends Mika a weak, strained smile. “Thanks. You always know what to say.”

Mika wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m older. Life experience and all that jazz,” he jokes. “Okay, go. Get some rest,” he adds, his voice gentle. He reaches his hand out and ruffles Lucas’ hair before pushing him forward.

Lucas feels so much calmer now.

***

By the time it’s morning, Lucas has barely slept, there are over thirty unanswered messages from Eliott on his phone and a whole gallery full of drawings Eliott has sent him. He’s not sure how he feels once his phone stops buzzing.

***

“Any news from Eliott?” Arthur asks no one in particular when they’re waiting for the bell to ring.

Lucas threads his fingers through his hair. The weekend has been hard. He was bombarded with Eliott’s texts, which has relieved him at first before it got too overwhelming, but once Eliott went quiet, a new kind of dread has appeared and Lucas hasn’t been able to shake it off ever since. He tried calling Eliott but to no avail.

“He sent me some stuff before going MIA again. But it was mostly incoherent,” he says, not looking up at them and shrugs.

“Well, at least he contacted you in some way,” Arthur replies and sighs.

“If he has what my mom does, he must be coming down from a manic episode now. Could be out of reach for some time,” Basile chimes in and all eyes land on him. Lucas remembers how Basile made a comment back then as if he knew.

“What do you mean?” Yann asks before Lucan can.

“I mean that he could be like my mom. She’s bipolar. He’s got pretty similar symptoms, that’s all. I could be wrong, though. We need to give him time, whatever it is and then let him talk with us,” Basile says and for the first time, he’s making sense. And he doesn’t even look stupid, that’s an achievement.

“So, we should be patient?” Arthur asks to which Basile only hums in agreement.

Easier said than done.

***

Lucas didn’t plan on asking Imane about anything, especially since to approach her, he’d probably have to come closer to the girls – don’t get him wrong, he likes them, but the thing with Daphne is still the elephant in the room. He’s not very keen on pretending to be nice to her nor is he going to be the one to expose her. He’s not going to make it easier for her. Anyway, the point is, he wasn’t going to say anything to Imane, no matter how tempting it could be. Because even if she’s an old friend of Eliott, Lucas can’t just butt in and ask her about that stuff, can he?

But it’s like Imane has the sixth sense and it’s her doing when she drags him away from the guys and they end up in the library.

“Something happened with Eliott,” she states, not asks, right after they’ve both sat down.

The first thing that comes to Lucas’ mind is, “How do you know?”

“He’s been posting weird thing on Insta,” she says as if that explained everything. “I thought I could have been wrong, but your response literally confirms it. Do you know how he is?” There’s concern painted all over her face and Lucas feels bad because he doesn’t have anything reliable to offer to her.

“Not really. I haven’t heard from him since Saturday. But wait, you have his Insta?” Lucas asks, because he’s young, sometimes stupid and focuses on things that may not be important, but catch his attention nevertheless. Eliott has told him about his account, but Lucas had no idea someone else knew about it, let alone followed him.

Imane looks confused for a second before she says, “Yeah? He doesn’t post much, though, that’s how I knew something was up. He posted so many confusing things over the weekend and then deleted the posts.”

“Oh,” Lucas breathes out. He shifts in his place and looks to the side. “I was actually wondering if you knew something. Since you are old friends,” Lucas murmurs and looks back towards Imane. She seems conflicted as she processes his words. There is something bugging her. It’s obvious that she knows the truth, but the longer she stays quiet, the more Lucas understands that she may not tell him anything. She came to him thinking that he’s already been aware and could provide her with information.

At least that’s the conclusion Lucas reaches after Imane doesn’t say anything for a few moments and keeps avoiding his eyes.

“It’s… private,” she finally says. “I don’t want to tell you something that’s Eliott’s to tell, you know? I’m not the gossiping type when it comes to matters like that,” she adds apologetically and Lucas nods. Imane is loyal as fuck and she’s not about to betray Eliott’s trust, no matter how their relationship looks like now.

And Lucas is already suspecting what it’s all about, but at the same time, Eliott hasn’t had a chance to speak for himself and Lucas knows how much it sucks when someone takes that away from you.

He could get all his answers if only he pushed harder, but he decides that it wouldn’t be fair. Most importantly, he wants to find out from Eliott. Not have Basile guessing or from pestering Imane. He can wait a little longer, the same way Eliott was patient with him. Though, there is something that makes him curious.

“How long have you two known each other?” he asks and Imane looks stopped in her tracks for a hot second. She clears her throat.

“A few years. But he was mostly friends with my brother. I was just always around.” She smiles to herself and going by the look on her face, Lucas figures out that she’s sorting through the memories in her head.

“Was he different from now?”

Imane snorts. “He was hanging out with my stupid brother. Obviously, it rubbed off on him when they were together,” she jokes, making Lucas chuckle. “He was more open and carefree. I think it all has changed after…” she hesitates to continue.

“After all that happened at his old school? He told me about it,” Lucas says. At least he isn’t completely in the dark. Imane seems relieved upon hearing that. One less secret she has to keep to herself.

“Yeah. It has really affected him, but… he’s been opening up more recently. I think it’s you and the boys. Your friendship. I’m glad you took him under your wings,” Imane admits. She doesn’t mention anything about how Lucas acted like an asshole towards Eliott for the first few weeks and at the moment, he gladly appreciates this. He likes to think that perhaps, he’s been a good influence in Eliott’s life, even if only slightly so.

“I just hope that what happened won’t make him pull away,” Lucas says. He’s got so many worries surrounding this situation and they just keep on coming.

Imane reaches her hand out and puts it over Lucas’. She squeezes his palm and sends him an encouraging grin. “Then make sure he doesn’t.”

***

Lucas has decided to give Eliott time and that’s what he’s going to do, okay, but he’s also sixteen and worried about his friend that he hasn’t heard from since Saturday. And it’s Wednesday now. So one has to understand why he’s anxiously fidgeting by Eliott’s building with a bag full of bananas.

He knows he shouldn’t be here but he couldn’t stop himself.

Lucas just wants to see Eliott and make sure everything is okay. He hasn’t told anyone about coming here because he’s aware that he isn’t acting reasonably. He should wait a few more days, but at the same time, he misses Eliott.

It’s okay if they don’t talk just yet. They could simply be together, no words spoken. That would be enough for Lucas. They could even hold hands if Eliott wanted to.

(Because Lucas definitely doesn’t want to do that himself.)

After all, Eliott may not even open the door for him. That’s exactly what Lucas is expecting once he summons up some courage and reaches Eliott’s flat. He knocks and waits, thinking that he will leave after a couple of minutes pass.

He doesn’t wait long until the door opens, but much to his surprise it’s not Eliott or even his parents, but a young girl.

Lucas almost drops the bananas and forgets how to speak for a moment.

“Um, hello?” she says, frowning at him.

Instead of saying something civil and appropriate, Lucas blurts out, “Who are you?” making the wrinkles on the girl’s face deepen.

“I think I should be asking you this question,” she replies and Lucas ignores her in favour of checking the number of the door.

It is the one he remembers.

“You aren’t Eliott,” he says, glancing back at her.

“Oh,” she gasps and realisation passes over her face. “I’m Lucille. Eliott’s ex,” she says, reaching her hand out.

Lucas shakes it, scowling. He should ask her why she’s there. They are exes and from what Lucas remembers, their relationship didn’t end well.

Lucille gazes at him sheepishly, probably thinking something similar as he is. “Come in,” she ushers him in.

Lucas follows her inside, unsure whether it’s a good idea. He came to see Eliott. If he’s not here he doesn’t really have any reason to stay.

“Are those for Eliott?” She points towards the bananas.

“Yeah,” Lucas replies and gives her the bag.

“He’s sleeping. Probably won’t talk with you. He doesn’t like being bothered when he’s like that,” Lucille tells Lucas while she’s putting the fruit away. Lucas squints at her. He’s not sure who Eliott would consider a bother in this situation. “I can tell him you visited, though,” she offers, sending his way a grin.

“I want to see him,” Lucas says, knowing he sounds like a petulant five-year-old and frankly not giving a fuck.

She has a more serious look on her face now. “I’m really not sure it’s a good idea.”

“The last time I saw him, he wasn’t present and I don’t know what happened to him. It freaked us all out. My friends and I are worried. All I want is to take a look at him,” Lucas says, not being able to stop desperation from slipping into his tone.

Lucile looks uncertain, her lips pursed into a tight line.

In the end, Lucas is just tired. It’s been days since the shit hit the fan, his head has been a mess, he can’t sleep again and simply having a proof that Eliott is okay in front of him would improve things drastically. Logically, he knows Eliott must be okay, if not mentally, then physically, but sometimes Lucas doesn’t listen to logic.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Lucille mutters, waving him off.

Lucas doesn’t say anything to her. He turns around and takes his steps towards Eliott’s bedroom. The doorknob makes a quiet sound when he pulls it down. He opens the door ever so slightly and steps in despite his hammering heart and anxiety filling his body up.

Lucas gulps as he closes the door behind himself. His eyes scan the room quickly, too scared to settle on the visible silhouette on the bed.

It’s not messy like he expected. Quite the contrary, it feels like something is missing. No clothes draped over the furniture, no drawings scattered over the floor or empty beer bottles in the corner. A bit anticlimactic if you ask him.

The curtains are drawn so the colours are muted, soft. And when Lucas eventually rests his eyes on Eliott’s form, he breathes out slowly. Eliott’s curled up on one side of the bed, his blankets covering him up to his eyes, with only his hair visible from where Lucas is standing. One of his feet is peeking out from under the blanket and Lucas is tempted to step closer and throw another cover at Eliott.

There’s something about Eliott that makes Lucas want to hold him. He dismisses the thought.

Lucille said that he was sleeping and Lucas should have only come here to see he was okay, but once he’s stepped inside, he isn’t sure he wants to leave. Eliott feels safe for him even when everything is not like it’s supposed to be. So Lucas stands near the foot of the bed, unmoving.

“Have you come here to stare at me?” Lucas is startled by Eliott’s raspy voice, muffled by the sheets. He doesn’t say anything for a good minute, surprised and it’s a mistake when Eliott adds, “If so, just leave. I don’t need another babysitter.”

He sounds irritated, so unlike his usual self and Lucas is hesitant to speak out. What if he makes it worse?

“I don’t need your pity,” Eliott finally lets out and that’s what does it for Lucas.

“I don’t pity you,” he says. Sure, he is worried about Eliott, but it’s far from pity. He wants to be there for him, that’s all.

“Yeah, sure. Bipolar Eliott has gone off the rails. I’m the crazy guy again,” Eliott spits out. “You think it’s fun, having you find out like that?”

Lucas isn’t even seeing Eliott’s face right now, but he can only imagine how pained his expression must be. He wants to say something, but he has no idea if there are any words in the world that would make the situation better. He takes a step forward, desperate to do something.

“Just leave me alone. I don’t want anyone here,” Eliott says sharply and buries his face deeper into his pillow.

Lucas wishes he could smack himself in the back of his head. He knew he should have waited longer, he was so aware and willing to give Eliott time, but some fucked up part of him came to Eliott anyway. Lucas should use his brain sometimes, it’d do him some good.

“Alright. But just so you know, I’m here for you. We all are,” Lucas says, hoping it will get through Eliott, if only a bit.

He leaves the room and before he can school his expression, he runs into Lucille on his way out. He doesn’t want to talk with her, he doesn’t want her I-know-Eliott-better-than-you vibe she’s giving off. Why is she even here?

Lucille sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. “I told you so,” she says. “But it’s not your fault, okay? Just remember that.”

Well, it’s reassuring, but doesn’t make him feel any less like crap.

Lucas leaves the flat defeated and a bit angry at himself because he should have considered that outcome. He also realises how little he knows about acting in such a situation. That’s why as soon as he’s outside, he dials his mom.

***

They’re walking side by side around the park that’s next to the facility Lucas’ mom is staying at. She’s been having her bad days so she didn’t want to meet too far away and Lucas respected that. He just hopes it’ll pass soon, for her own sake.

He thought that maybe calling his mom up about this matter was a slightly rushed decision. After all, he knows someone who lives with a bipolar person and probably has plenty of experience, but something told him that his mom will have what he’s looking for. In one way or another.

“So, tell me what it’s about,” Lucas’ mom says, linking arms with him. Lucas figures out it’s partly affectionate and partly seeking out support. He brings her closer before saying anything.

“Eliott is bipolar and had an episode. I don’t really know what to do.” Lucas has spent most of the last night looking up Eliott’s disorder online, but he’s still pretty clueless, no matter how much information he processed.

“What do you mean, dear?” his mom asks, a tint of confusion in her voice.

“Like how to help him? How to be there for him? I want to make sure he knows he isn’t alone,” Lucas says quietly. He hates not being able to do a single thing. He never wants a repetition of how everything went down with his family.

His mom takes a deep breath. He can see her watching him out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not an expert, obviously, but you have to remember everyone goes through their illness differently. No amount of articles on the Internet is going to be one hundred percent correct. Be patient, don’t overwhelm him. Let him know you’re there but in small ways. Baby steps, you know? When everything is difficult, you have to focus on the now and try to get through this with this person. That’s what your father forgot about. He tried to handle me, do everything quickly. It’s never the way because sometimes even hours make it hard to breathe.” The raw honesty in her voice breaks Lucas’ heart. He’s been made aware to wait, give time, but no one has explained it to him like this.

Rushing things – that’s what Lucas tried to do, despite knowing better. He went to Eliott before he was ready. When he was, and probably still is, hurting. And like his mom said, it should be an individual approach. Lucas read that some people want to be alone, some don’t. And as much as he hates to admit it, Lucille does know which group Eliott belongs to. She had the time to learn, Lucas hasn’t. But he will, as long as Eliott will let him.

“You really care about that boy, don’t you?” Lucas’ mom asks, snapping him out of his thoughts. Lucas looks towards her and nods.

“Yes, I do. He’s my friend.”

His mom tilts her head to the side and says, “I don’t want to pry, but are you sure it’s only friendship?”

They stop walking. Lucas opens his mouth, ready to reply but no sound comes out. For the first time, he can’t give a definite answer. For the first time, his mind is filled with doubts as to how he really feels about Eliott.

When exactly does a friendship become something more?

There are fingers tilting his chin up. “Don’t overthink it, okay?” his mom tells him with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Whatever it is, he’s lucky to have you.”

In the evening, Lucas sends Eliott a text.

No matter what, you’re not alone.

***

Lucas is in Yann’s house, supposed to be studying, but he is sprawled out on Yann’s bed with his textbooks opened next to him and left untouched. His best friend is doing homework, not paying a lot of attention to Lucas’ present(one of many) crisis.

When Lucas is told not to overthink, he does the opposite. He hasn’t been able to stop his mind from going right back to his mom’s question. It’s like he’s seeing the world through new lenses. Thinking back to his whole relationship with Eliott, going through all he’s felt from the very first moment he saw him.

They have a connection. A deep one. Not quite like the one he shares with his other friends. It’s not the same as with Yann. There has always been something that drew Lucas in, even back when he was convinced he hated Eliott. Their eyes would find each other and for one moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist. Lucas has never questioned why. He has never stopped to think what’s it about Eliott that makes him so special.

What is Eliott to Lucas?

Eliott is warmth, solace, and peace. Eliott is held hands and whispered secrets. Shared joints, bad music taste, and drawings of the two of them. He’s staying up late and eating pizza for a whole day while playing stupid games together. Comfortable silences and feeling safe to come to.

But Lucas has only thought of him as a friend. Not even Eliott’s sudden confession or Arthur’s comment changed the way he looked at him. Or, maybe he simply wasn’t aware of it? After all, Lucas has a great talent to internalising and repressing things and as he looks back on everything that happened with Eliott, there have been so many moments that made his heart race. Way too many.

How did he know that he liked Yann? Oh, right, he kept thinking about kissing him.

Kissing Eliott, what would it entail? Does he want it?

Lucas thinks about how it’d be to thread his fingers through Eliott’s hair and pull him closer, so close they’d be breathing the same air. He imagines moving his other hand over Eliott’s heart and letting it rest there as he’d look up into Eliott’s eyes and see the stars. They would be smiling softly at each other and Lucas would be the one to close the gap between them, his lips parted. The kiss would be tentative at first, but they’d be already blushing furiously with their sweaty palms holding onto one another. It’d be messy before they’d find their rhythm. Slow and lazy because they’d have no need to hurry. And then Eliott would bite down on Lucas’ lower lip and Lucas would feel him smirking into the kiss–

Lucas sits up, placing his hands over his burning cheeks and looks in panic at Yann who jumps in his place, startled by Lucas.

“Dude, what?” Yann asks, staring at Lucas quizzically and holding his pen up in a funny way. Like he was ready to attack him.

Lucas gazes back at him in horror and in the grimmest voice possible says, “I think I like Eliott.” His heart is beating so fast it may as well kill him any minute. He’s not sure it’s because of what he’s just vividly imagined or the epiphany. Maybe both.

Yann deflates and makes a sceptic face at Lucas. He throws the pen at him, hitting Lucas in the forehead. “Fuck you, you scared me,” he mutters and clicks his tongue.

“Listen, it’s serious. It’s a game-changer,” Lucas proclaims and realises his hands are shaking. If that isn’t one drastic way to act when one learns they’ve got a crush on someone.

Yann stares at him doubtfully. “Alright. It’s not like you can do much about it now, though. So calm down,” he reasons, patting Lucas on the back.

“You don’t understand. It’s so sudden.” Lucas hides his face in his hands and exhales loudly.

“Honestly?” Yann asks as he starts rubbing Lucas’ back comfortingly. “I could see that coming.”

Lucas looks up at him, surprised. “What?”

“I know you, Lucas. You guys have gotten so close together, which is fine. But I know you. It’s not because you both like guys or something, I’m not that shallow. I could just see this happening on your face,” Yann admits sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Would you have believed me if I had said anything before you realised it yourself? Because I doubt it,” Yann says, taking his hand away. He shrugs. “I prefer to let people do things at their own pace.”

Well, he isn’t wrong given how Lucas denied everything when Arthur thought there was something between him and Eliott.

“I think that all that happened with Eliott recently must have pushed you,” Yann adds as an afterthought.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lucas says tiredly. “What now?”

“I have no idea. You know how things went with Emma,” Yann replies, apologetic. Yeah, Lucas knows because it was partly his doing. “You don’t even know if he likes you back.”

Okay, so Lucas guesses Yann is only perceptive when it comes to how Lucas is feeling. Or, Eliott is really fucking good at keeping his feelings to himself.

“He does,” Lucas says. “He confessed to me some time ago.”

The surprise on Yann’s face is priceless. His jaw goes slack and eyes open comically wide.

“And that didn’t make you realise your feelings?”

“Shockingly enough, but no.” It did trigger something in him, though, because the level of staring at Eliott grew unhealthily ever since then. God, Lucas has been so fucking gay.

“You’re hopeless,” Yann states simply, his face scrunched up. Then he gasps. “That mural. It was for you.” Lucas nods even though Yann doesn’t really need confirmation. “Wow. That’s great. You both like each other. Best case scenario, right?” He’s smiling encouragingly at Lucas.

Lucas sighs, lacking Yann’s enthusiasm. “In theory, yeah.”

“But?” Yann asks, confused.

Lucas can’t say that he’s gay and among many things, he has intimacy issues. So he says something else, that’s just as true. “Liking you was safe because I knew you were straight and I wouldn’t fuck up anything. I’ve never had a mutual crush or been in a relationship. I don’t want to lose what we have because of that,” Lucas confesses, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s scary.”

Yann looks at him with understanding in his eyes and nudges him in the side. “I know it’s scary. That shit is terrifying as fuck, but you know what? Some risks are worth taking,” he says quietly, throwing his arm over Lucas’ shoulders.

***

It’s Friday afternoon and Lucas is in the tram, on his way back home when he feels his phone buzz. He pulls it out and his heart skips a beat when he sees he’s got a message from Eliott. He hasn’t heard from him ever since he texted him two days ago.

What he reads is a simple thank you, but it’s still more than he expected. He smiles to himself and tucks his phone back into his pocket.

He’s shaken by the epiphany he had the day before but he’s trying to work around it and not freak out. Especially since he knows Eliott is nowhere near to being in the state when they could be talking about such things.

This time Lucas pushes his feelings aside on purpose because it’s not the time yet. Everything that’s happened in the last week has been a lesson on patience and slowly but surely, Lucas is learning the basics. There are still so many other things he needs to take care of, stuff that he wishes he could already move past on. But well, he can’t rush the universe.

“Have you already run out of money?” Lucas hears someone exclaiming loudly.

It’s not aimed at him, but he glances briefly towards the people behind him anyway. There are three boys, talking amongst each other. He recognises one of them as Tom, the guy Yann and him were hanging out with last year. He was their weed-provider for a while and also a total asshole. Lucas scrunches his nose up and looks away.

“No, I still have some saved up. But I can’t go wild anymore, you know.” It’s Tom.

“Why?” the third guy asks.

“The guy you’ve been leeching off stopped paying you?”

“Yeah, it was fun while it lasted, though. I thought he was loaded because I was in his house once. I guess he just didn’t care,” Tom says, sounding bored.

“But it’s a good way to get some free money.”

Tom hums. “It was so easy I didn’t even have to try hard. The amount of money I got because of two blurry pictures some drunk chick took. Fuck,” he snorts.

Lucas freezes.

“It was fifty euros every week, right?” Tom lets out an affirming noise. “Shit, better than going to work.”

“I heard he was beaten up, though. Tough luck, I guess. He could have tried harder,” Tom complains and it’s not a coincidence. Everything that they’ve said so far is too fucking familiar. It’s fucking Tom who called Lucas gay every single time they hung out. There’s no fucking way in hell it’s not about him.

Lucas stops listening to them.

He turns around, shaking, buzzing with anger. All he can see is red as he approaches the boys, who are laughing at something right now. Not having noticed him yet.

“It was you,” Lucas grits out, catching their attention. Tom looks towards him and curses under his breath.

The tram stops.

Lucas drags Tom out of it, ignoring Tom’s protests and his friends following them out. They can do whatever they want to him, but he isn’t letting Tom off the hook.

He pushes Tom and he lands on the ground. “Why the fuck did you do it?!” he cries out, ignoring everyone around.

Tom gulps. “I needed some cash for drugs?” he offers, smiling nervously.

Drugs. Lucas’ life has been ruined because of fucking drugs. That’s how much he is worth. He stands there, baffled, his fingers curled up into fists.

“You fucked me over to smoke some weed?” Lucas asks, his voice cracking.

“Paid rent with your money, too,” Tom blabbers as if it made the situation better.

“What have I ever done to you?” Lucas won’t cry. He won’t fucking cry and give that asshole more satisfaction.

Tom backs away a few centimetres when he notices Lucas stepping closer. “It’s nothing personal! I just saw the opportunity and took it,” he explains.

Lucas shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re sick,” he spits out. His vision becomes blurry, but he isn’t going to show more weakness. He blinks the tears away and when he sees Tom trying to get up, he waits until they are on the same level.

“No hard feelings,” Tom says, dusting himself off and looking over himself. Like all was good. As if Lucas wasn’t close to exploding.

Too engrossed in himself, Tom doesn’t see Lucas’ fist coming.

(a/n:ill understand if some of you are disappointed by who the blackmailer is but by this story i wanted to show that sometimes something so grand happens in our life when for someone else it means nothing, they are just a random person. tom just wanted money and have fun, he didn’t care abt the rest. anyways, one more chapter to go!)

#elu #elu fic #elu fanfic #skam france #skam france fic #skam france fanfic #lucas x eliott #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

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stormheartgames · 5 years

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Home

Miava stands with Cassia wrapped in her arms, watching you and Lucan play with a set of dolls that Naos and Osanna had set out a few minutes ago. Heva sits behind you quietly, fully content on just watching the two of you play. Milo sits on Osanna’s hip, barely able to keep his eyes open, but he’s trying his best.

“Are you sure about this, Precursor? Adopting all five of them would be quite something,” Naos says fondly, shaking his blond head and smiling down at Milo. Milo gives him a scathing look before turning away, plopping his head down on Osanna’s shoulder.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking,” Miava replies softly, running her fingers over Cassia’s cheek before bringing the babe closer to her, arms wrapped around the girl tightly. “These children are something special. I’m sure you’ve noticed it while you’ve looked after them. They need proper care, and I think I can provide that for them.”

Naos practically beams. “You’re definitely right about that.” He reaches over and musses up Milo’s hair before walking over and crouching down next to Heva. Milo fusses for a long moment before settling again.

“I always thought you’d make a good mother, Precursor,” Osanna murmurs quietly, trying not to disturb the toddler in her arms now that he’s calmed down. “You just had to find the right kids.”

Miava flushes slightly, suddenly a bit embarrassed. “Oh, don’t you start on me.”

Osanna laughs. “Sorry, but it’s true. Come on, let’s go see how the children take the news.”

The two of them step towards you older kids, careful not to scare you. Naos is still talking to Heva in a low voice, and she’s nodding slowly while looking at Miava with wide eyes. Lucan looks up just as you do, taking in the two newcomers.

“We’ve got good news, kiddos,” Osanna says brightly, putting Milo down next to Lucan. The boy immediately clings to his brother, snuggling up to him cutely. “Miava wants to take you all in as her own. She’s been here a lot, hasn’t she? What do you think about that? Lucan? Kalypso?”

You speak slowly, “She’d be my new mom?”

Lucan nods. “Yes! For all of us.” As he says this, he smiles over at you brightly, eager for your reaction.

You think really hard for a moment, then laugh. “Okay. That sounds good.”

“Well, if Kalypso thinks it’s okay…” Heva flushes as everyone turns their gaze to her when she speaks, and she tries to hide behind her hands.

Lucan puffs up his chest. “I think you have your answer,” he states as strongly as any child can. The adults all chuckle softly, standing up from their positions.

Naos shakes his head and rubs at his eyes. “There you have it, Precursor. I guess you’re now the mother of five adorable kids,” he says. “We’ll get them packed up and send them on their way tomorrow. Why don’t you go home and get your tent ready?”

“An excellent idea,” the Precursor responds as she hands Cassia over to Naos.

Osanna takes her hands before she leaves, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m so proud of you, Miava. I hope this is everything you’ve ever wanted.” Miava then departs, her heart and mind full of love and determination, ready to take on a lifetime of motherhood, tutoring, and responsibility.

—

For a patron on Patreon!! I hope you like it, dear! C:

#Calling of Metem's Hollow #patreon benefit #interactive fiction #writing #this one was so cute to write!!!#i hope you guys all enjoy it! :D

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atlantic-riona · 4 years

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some thoughts below that may potentially contain spoilers for The Raven’s Return, but I just need to write them out for clarity’s sake

I’m starting to think that maybe I’m stuck on the next chapter of The Raven’s Return because I need to do some major rewrites and worldbuilding. When I first started writing the story as it is now (the third version I think?), I envisioned it as a murder mystery set in a fantasy world, but over time I’ve been moving away from the murder mystery and focusing on other storylines. There’s still a murder, but it’s no longer as important to the story as it used to be. I also really really really hate the timing of the first five chapters--the time constraints and distance between the characters annoy me, because I’ve established that realistically it would take the nin Roys about three days walking to get from their village to the city, which means that either I have to do time jumps in between different characters’ chapters (which I really don’t want to do because as a reader I would find that incredibly confusing if done multiple times in a row--once or twice is fine, but not every other chapter), or the flow of the story is odd, because I’d have to stick with Cait and Lucan’s perspective for several chapters when the story needs to see what Bran and the others are up to.

I don’t think I need to do a total rewrite and scrap everything, as I quite like the majority of the chapters in terms of content. The only chapter I don’t like is Chapter One, because it feels very disjointed to me. That’s probably because I wrote the first part of it (the bit with Ferhon) for a writing class a year ago, when I had a very different plan for the story, and then added other scenes as I needed to.

I’d like to do some sort of outline for the story, but there’s a couple problems with that. First, whenever I outline something in great detail, I almost...lose interest in it? Like my brain thinks that because I outlined something I don’t need to actually flesh it out. It’s weird. Second, if I outline something very briefly, it...doesn’t work. I always end up doing something radically different by like the second bullet point, so the rest of the outline is kind of useless.

But I feel like I need an outline!! I need something to write towards. I used to have an ending in mind, but my plans have changed so much I don’t really think that ending works anymore.

In terms of worldbuilding I think I might need to elaborate on the history of the Valaviri and Falians more, because that keeps cropping up. Also I need to establish the more physical aspects of the culture (clothing, buildings, etc.) much more. And I haven’t been able to decide how literate either population is or what languages they speak. I was toying with having the Falians speak both Falian and Valaviri, but I’m not sure how or if that would work. For the languages themselves, I’m torn between just using Latin and Irish (at least for now) because that’s easier for me to write and plan with than it would be to come up with made-up languages that are similar to both of those. I think I might do that, because I’m definitely not Tolkien. Languages are interesting to me, especially in how they influence culture/history, but I’m nowhere near skilled enough to come up with a workable language on my own. I also just don’t want to get caught up in grammar and evolution of language and all that.

I also definitely need to expand upon the religions of both the Valaviri and the Falians. I was trying to go for a Greek/Roman type pantheon for the Valaviri, with the Roman focus on virtue, but I’m not sure how the religion itself affects the daily lives of the Valaviri. Do people actually believe in them or do they only pay them lip service? There are accounts of Greeks (Romans too, I think) who questioned the gods‘ existence, and I feel like it might tie into the theme of decadence and laziness that I have going on with the Valaviri Empire.

Speaking of, I don’t know if I want to use “empire” for the Valaviri, because it seems really cliche (the evil empire trope, etc., even though I was going to explore how it was both good and bad). Originally I was going to call it the Principate, which is what the Roman Empire was called during the time when it was still trying to appear as a republic. The problem with Latin and Roman stuff, though, is that it’s really recognizable and kind of overdone. This whole story came into being because of the concept of Ireland and Rome interacting and setting off an alternate history of sorts (which I’ve since altered to fit the fantasy world), so I do want to keep those two countries the primary source of inspiration. But I also don’t want the world to seem like it’s just a copy of ours...

The Falian religion gives me so much trouble. In the second version of the story, it was more of a Narnia-type tale where the nin Roys had come to our world and then went back. They ended up converting to Catholicism while here, and then continued to practice it once in Falia. It influenced their character arcs a lot, so I had a really hard time over replacing it. I settled on having the Falians worship “The Highest” (as in the Highest of Kings--God), which worked because of their historical High King. I was going to have their first king be chosen by the Highest; his name would be Cyr (like Kyrios (Greek for Lord), which, according to Webster’s Dictionary is apparently like Old Irish caur (meaning hero)). He would be chosen because he was the worthiest to rule (virtuous, etc.), and from that would come the custom of choosing High Kings based on behavior and character, rather than descent/family (although from time to time the latter would happen). But I kind of want to incorporate more Irish/Welsh mythology into it...however, I’m leery of either destroying the Christian element or of making it too similar to actual mythology.

I also want to change up some of the characters and their appearances/roles, like Bella and Marcus. I might have to end up dropping Mel, because she was important to the murder mystery plot, but with that getting discarded, she isn’t needed anymore. I also adore Soaig and Piran, but I have so many characters to keep track of; they might end up becoming much more minor characters than I planned at first.

Basically, I feel like I have to rewrite a lot, figure out where I’m going, and work out more worldbuilding details before I can keep going. And I’m willing to do that, but...*sigh* I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to. Rereading what I’ve written here, however, I do think that I have to go back and figure out a plan/redo some of it.

#the raven's return #writing #I'm not exactly sure what I'll do #but this has been building for awhile #hopefully now that I've realized I need to go back I won't be so stuck anymore #if anybody has thoughts or suggestions I'd love to hear them!!

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kaesaaurelia · 5 years

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just a flesh wound

For @whumptober2019 day 6: dragged away.

Aziraphale/Crowley post-battle-injury comfort. Pining and anachronistic armor, yay!

When Crowley regained consciousness, it was to pain. He tried to remember what had happened -- there'd been... there'd been the battle. Yes. He'd provoked that battle. The negotiations between Arthur's men and Mordred's had been going too well -- curse these humans for being reasonable once in a blue moon -- so he'd slipped off and become an adder, although probably a funny-looking, red and black sort of adder, and he'd startled a knight, and then everything had gone to shit. Which was what he'd wanted to happen, so that was good. Mission accomplished.

That didn't really explain why everything hurt, though.

"Ah, there you are, Crowley." The voice was familiar, and warm, and placed a little more emphasis on his name than was necessary. He could still hear the sounds of battle, but they were hazy and distant.

"Angel?" Crowley mumbled. He forced his eyes open. They were still outside, but Crowley could see a half-ruined stone wall looming above him, mossy and shadowed, and there was a pair of brilliant white wings blocking out most of the gray sky.

He felt a warm hand on his forehead. "I'm right here. Can you stand?"

"'M very dizzy," said Crowley. He searched for Aziraphale in his field of vision, and found him, sort of -- a hazy, blurry sort of pink thing looking down at him. "Thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me."

"I never said that!" said Aziraphale. "Although I don't. Of course. Can you sit up, at least?"

It took a few tries -- Crowley discovered one of his arms should on no account be moved, lest it cause him indescribable pain -- and a little help from Aziraphale, but he managed to sit up, and lean against the wall. He was still very dizzy, and everything hurt.

"I think you got a nasty bump on the head," Aziraphale said, and helped him take his helmet off.

"Makes sense," said Crowley. It was very difficult to remember exactly what had happened in the press of the battle, but he settled on blaming Kay for it. Whatever happened, it was probably Kay's fault, and if not, he deserved the blame anyway, Crowley felt, by dint of being Kay.

"I saw you fall from your horse and -- and, well. Didn't want you to get trampled. So I dragged you away without anyone noticing," said Aziraphale.

He pulled down the maille hood, and combed his fingers through Crowley's hair. It felt nice, and Crowley, to his shame, made a little noise at the back of his throat that he had not intended to make.

"Oh, I'm sorry, does that hurt?" Aziraphale asked, withdrawing as though the very act of touching a demon had burned him.

"N-- not that bad, everything hurts, pretty much," said Crowley. "You can keep -- keep looking for the bump. On my head. If you think that'll help." Crowley braced himself this time around, and only moaned when Aziraphale's fingers encountered a very painful thing.

"Ah, there we are," said Aziraphale, tsking to himself. He conjured a handful of snow out of nothing, and wrapped it in some clean white cloth that, likewise, had not been there before.

"Why didn't you want me to get trampled?" Crowley asked, as Aziraphale held the cool bundle to his head.

"Well, why would I?" Aziraphale asked.

"Demon?" Crowley suggested. "Angel?" he added, nodding at Aziraphale, and then winced.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. And hold your head still," said Aziraphale. He let go of the bundle of snow, and it stayed there, helpfully defying gravity. "You were holding your arm stiffly, do you think it might be broken? It looked like a very bad fall."

"Maybe twisted a bit," said Crowley, and gritted his teeth as Aziraphale started taking his armor off, trying very hard not to jostle him. Crowley sighed, and in a moment his armor was lying to the side.

"Oh! Oh, yes, I suppose -- that makes sense," said Aziraphale, rolling up Crowley's sleeve. His forearm was a mass of purple and swelling, and Crowley hissed unhappily. "Oh, I'm so sorry to keep hurting you, but --"

"It's fine," said Crowley, because watching an angel apologize for hurting him was just embarrassing. "Why are you helping me, anyway?"

"Well it... it just seemed like the thing to do, is all," said Aziraphale. He gently poked Crowley's arm again.

"Of course," said Crowley, with a little smirk, because he could tell there was something Aziraphale felt guilty about, and he suspected if he kept leaning on Aziraphale -- figuratively, he certainly wasn't going to move from this spot for a while if he didn't have to -- Aziraphale would blurt it out.

"I mean. Helping a fellow being. That's my job," said Aziraphale.

"Right," said Crowley, shivering as Aziraphale conjured another bundle of snow to press to his arm.

"I think it's broken," said Aziraphale. "Can you heal it yourself?"

"Eventually. Not right now," said Crowley.

"By 'eventually,' do you mean you're too dizzy to do it this very moment," Aziraphale asked, "or are you going to ignore it until it heals crooked?"

"Eventually, angel, what does it matter to you?" Crowley snapped.

"Well. I just. I've been thinking. About what you said." Aziraphale looked at him almost fearfully.

"About what?"

"About -- about canceling each other out," said Aziraphale. "And. And, look, between you and me I don't think either of us had half the influence either of our employers thinks we did."

"I started the battle, though," said Crowley, smugly.

"You --" Then Aziraphale laughed. Laughed!

"What?" Crowley demanded.

"Oh, no, I could tell it was all going to go wrong from the start, everything's been absolutely rotten at Camelot for ages," said Aziraphale, who sounded like he had a lot to get off his chest about this. "Frankly if it wasn't Mordred it would've been somebody else, I don't want to say who but, heavens, it'd have been even worse for Arthur if all that business had come out properly -- and anyway I overheard Bedivere and Lucan talking before negotiations, saying Arthur was getting to be too soft a touch and they were hoping for a fight. I don't think you can have done anything."

"I turned into a snake!" Crowley insisted. "I was inssstrumental to the whole -- aah!" He'd tried gesturing, and moved his arm, and now it hurt.

"Oh, Crowley," said Aziraphale, patting his hand -- fondly? "I know you must've tried. I tried too. But humans are... they're just..."

"Idiots?" Crowley supplied. Obviously he couldn't move his arm away from Aziraphale's hand. That would've hurt. He had to resist the urge to curl his own fingers around it, though.

"Well. That too," said Aziraphale. They were silent for a few moments, listening to the clash of metal on metal. "I will consider your suggestion, Crowley. Give me some time? And in the meantime, let's see if we can't get you feeling a bit better."

"Yeah. All right," said Crowley. "Thanks."

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #whumptober2019 #no.6 #hurt/comfort #pining #text #fiction #kaesa op

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janiedean · 5 years

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jaime, pia and perceived ideals of knighthood vs effective knightly deeds

for jaime lannister week, day seven: free choice [in this case: META DAY? APPARENTLY.]

so, for the occasion I figured I’d rant about a specific instance in jaime’s asos/affc arc that might be a tad overlooked as it features a minor character but that I think is really important to his arc/his character evolution, as in: how his subplot concerning pia in both books actually shows that while he thinks he turned into the smiling knight, for someone he’s been arthur dayne all along and how actually pia is about the one person to whom he’s never not been anyone or anything else else, which should in turn suggest that he’s been arthur dayne deep down for way longer than he himself thinks.

first of all, I would like to go into the canon instances on which jaime himself reflects on the issue:

The world was simpler in those days, Jaime thought, and men as well as swords were made of finer steel. Or was it only that he had been fifteen? They were all in their graves now, the Sword of the Morning and the Smiling Knight, the White Bull and Prince Lewyn, Ser Oswell Whent with his black humor, earnest Jon Darry, Simon Toyne and his Kingswood Brotherhood, bluff old Sumner Crakehall. And me, that boy I was . . . when did he die, I wonder? When I donned the white cloak? When I opened Aerys's throat? That boy had wanted to be Ser Arthur Dayne, but someplace along the way he had become the Smiling Knight instead. ASOS, Jaime VIII

"When I was a squire I told myself I'd be the man to slay the Smiling Knight."

"The Smiling Knight?" She sounded lost. "Who was that?"

The Mountain of my boyhood. Half as big but twice as mad. AFFC, Jaime IV

"You could kill Lord Beric, Ser Jaime. You slew the Smiley Knight. Please, my lord, I beg you, stay and help us with Lord Beric and the Hound." Her pale fingers caressed his golden ones.

Does she think that I can feel that? "The Sword of the Morning slew the Smiling Knight, my lady. Ser Arthur Dayne, a better knight than me." AFFC, Jaime IV

now, there are a few things we can deduce from these (there’s more on the arthur subject, but the crux here is the contraposition):

jaime has a very idealized view of his squiring period, obviously, because it’s the one time in which he was doing what he felt like he was born to do (being a knight) and in which he was part of an heroic quest/deed (slaying the smiling knight) that he carried out with his role model (arthur dayne);

the smiling knight himself is compared to gregor clegane, ie the worst person we could think of in these series;

in jaime’s head there’s a definite dichotomy in between arthur (extreme good) and the smiling knight (extreme bad);

jaime wanted to be like arthur (which he has no problem admitting now post hand-loss) but thinks that he turned into the smiling knight ie the worst possible other end of the specter, so he’a actually making himself look worse than he actually is as nothing he’s done in canon until that point is comparable to what gregor did if we stand by that comparison;

jaime *told himself he would slay the smiling knight* ie he dreamed of being the person who’d carry out that quest - it earned him the knighthood and he took part in it but he didn’t exactly do it as he points out later, as he says that arthur was a better knight than he was.

now, while we could discuss for ages about how jaime’s extremely idealized view of arthur and the rest of aerys’s KG doesn’t necessarily match up with reality (I mean, we don’t know much about what arthur was up to during the rebellion and we’ll never know until we get a direct account of what happened at the tower of joy but the man died trying to prevent ned from reaching his dying sister after his side lost the war, after rhaegar died and so on, which doesn’t look exactly knightly to me or at least it’s fairly morally gray/shady from the elements that we have), but the point I want to make here is that the way jaime sees it, he completely failed to uphold knightly vows, hasn’t measured up to his role model, turned into the kind of monster that he was dreaming of slaying when he was young and ponders when exactly that switch happened. and he mentions as possibilities a) when he went into the KG, b) when he killed aerys.

before I move on to the actual point, though, I’d like to point out one moment what is actually the oath knights swear when being anointed, as per ASOS and The Hedge Knight:

[..], do you swear before the eyes of gods and men to defend those who cannot defend themselves, to protect all women and children, to obey your captains, your liege lord, and your king, to fight bravely when needed and do such other tasks as are laid upon you, however hard or humble or dangerous they may be?

In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women....

so, very shortly and not counting the ones about obeying one’s commander or liege lord, the crux is protecting innocent/weaker people including women and children who can’t defend themselves any better.

so, jaime thinks he’s done nothing of that and that he’s not doing anything of that. fair enough. follow-up under the cut for length.

now, on to pia: before going on to how she matters in his arc, we should keep in mind that from what we know from arya’s chapters in a clash of kings:

Arya heard all sorts of secrets just by keeping her ears open as she went about her duties. Pretty Pia from the buttery was a slut who was working her way through every knight in the castle. Hot Pie was kneading bread, his arms floured up to his elbows. "Pia saw something in the buttery last night." Arya made a rude noise. Pia was always seeing things in the buttery. Usually they were men. Tothmure had been sent to the axe for dispatching birds to Casterly Rock and King's Landing the night Harrenhal had fallen, Lucan the armorer for making weapons for the Lannisters, Goodwife Harra for telling Lady Whent's household to serve them, the steward for giving Lord Tywin the keys to the treasure vault. The cook was spared (some said because he'd made the weasel soup), but stocks were hammered together for pretty Pia and the other women who'd shared their favors with Lannister soldiers. Stripped and shaved, they were left in the middle ward beside the bear pit, free for the use of any man who wanted them.

so: we know that she’s a serving hand (so she’s a woman of low birth who has virtually no protection whatsoever), that she’s good-looking and that she most likely enjoys having sex (nothing bad about that)… but that people shame her for it (see the first quote). we also can deduce that she was willing in her enjoyment of sex and so on… but the last that we know from arya’s chapters, when roose conquers it, she’s stripped and shaved and left free for use for having slept with lannister soldiers, so we can add that on top of that she most likely was raped and we can deduce that not many people would have considered it such after because of her previous reputation for promiscuity.

now, what happens after is that qyburn sends her to jaime figuring that he’d appreciate it:

“I understand you had a visitor last night,” said Qyburn. “I trust that you enjoyed her?”

Jaime gave him a cool look. “She did not say who sent her.”

The maester smiled modestly. “Your fever was largely gone, and I thought you might enjoy a bit of exercise. Pia is quite skilled, would you not agree? And so . . . willing.”

what we can deduce here is that qyburn sent her to jaime after the whole part where she was put up for *free use* by any man who wanted her and he still says she’s willing, which is actually true but more on that later, but to qyburn it really doesn’t matter most likely because of her previous fame. also he talks about her as if she’s not a person with feelings (she’s skilled, you enjoyed her etc.), while jaime does not sleep with her out of faithfulness towards cersei, but what’s interesting is how pia said she saw the entire thing:

“She had been that, certainly. She had slipped in his door and out of her clothes so quickly that Jaime had thought he was still dreaming.

It hadn’t been until the woman slid in under his blankets and put his good hand on her breast that he roused. She was a pretty little thing, too. “I was a slip of a girl when you came for Lord Whent’s tourney and the king gave you your cloak,” she confessed. “You were so handsome all in white, and everyone said what a brave knight you were. Sometimes when I’m with some man, I close my eyes and pretend it’s you on top of me, with your smooth skin and gold curls. I never truly thought I’d have you, though.”

Sending her away had not been easy after that, but Jaime had done it all the same. I have a woman, he reminded himself. “Do you send girls to everyone you leech?” he asked Qyburn.

“More often Lord Vargo sends them to me. He likes me to examine them, before . . . well, suffice it to say that once he loved unwisely, and he has no wish to do so again. But have no fear, Pia is quite healthy. As is your maid of Tarth.”

Jaime gave him a sharp look. “Brienne?”

now, never mind that the entire exchange ends up with jaime finding out that brienne is in danger and it’s just before his dream and the bear pit as in, his Extremely Knightly Moment in asos which is also relevant as that episode (while not the first knightly thing he does after losing the hand since saving brienne from being raped while on their road trip would count) is the first major gesture of the kind he does: we know that after she was most likely raped repeatedly, she got sent to *him*, and we find out that she’s actually been thinking of him in extremely knightly terms all along since she saw him getting knighted. now she says she was a slip of a girl so she most likely was around four or five and she still remembers that he looked handsome and brave (knightly virtues) and that when she’s with other people she pretends it’s jaime making love to her, to the point that she can’t believe her luck that she’d actually end up with him. now, he refuses (even if he finds it hard), but he’s most likely one of the few people (if not the only one) who would have done that and he also doesn’t appreciate qyburn basically whoring her out, so at least he’s giving her some basic respect… but the point here is that to pia he sounds/looks like the embodiment of everything he thinks he’s not (brave/knightly) and she’s been thinking that since he went into the kingsguard ie one of the two moments that in the above quote he thought might have been when he turned from arthur into the smiling knight, which therefore would *not* match her idea of him as a splendid example of knightly valor… in theory.

now, at this point, regardless of what happened in between arya leaving harrenhal and jaime getting there, pia still seems to not having undergone through massive changes since what we saw in acok - she’s still pretty, she enjoys sex and she definitely is willing at least when it comes to the one man she’s been having an idealized crush on for years and that she thinks of when having sex with other men.

then jaime goes back to harrenhal in affc before heading for riverrun and he meets her again:

Any hopes he might have nursed of finding Shagwell, Pyg, or Zollo languishing in the dungeons were sadly disappointed. The Brave Companions had abandoned Vargo Hoat to a man, it would seem. Of Lady Whent's people, only three remained—the cook who had opened the postern gate for Ser Gregor, a bent-back armorer called Ben Blackthumb, and a girl named Pia, who was not near as pretty as she had been when Jaime saw her last. Someone had broken her nose and knocked out half her teeth. The girl fell at Jaime's feet when she saw him, sobbing and clinging to his leg with hysterical strength till Strongboar pulled her off. "No one will hurt you now," he told her, but that only made her sob the louder. +

“Take the whore as well," Ser Bonifer urged. "You know the one. The girl from the dungeons."

"Pia." The last time he had been here, Qyburn had sent the girl to his bed, thinking that would please him. But the Pia they had brought up from the dungeons was a different creature from the sweet, simple, giggly creature who'd crawled beneath his blankets. She had made the mistake of speaking when Ser Gregor wanted quiet, so the Mountain had smashed her teeth to splinters with a mailed fist and broken her pretty little nose as well. He would have done worse, no doubt, if Cersei had not called him down to King's Landing to face the Red Viper's spear. Jaime would not mourn him.

"Pia was born in this castle," he told Ser Bonifer. "It is the only home she has ever known."

"She is a font of corruption," said Ser Bonifer. "I won't have her near my men, flaunting her . . . parts."

so, what happens is that when gregor (as in, the person jaime compared the smiling knight with before) was in harrenhal he smashed her teeth with a mailed first because she spoke out of turn and as per what the next quote says, she’s also been repeatedly raped again, and she’s definitely way traumatized and in a position of absolute helplessness… and she throws herself at jaime’s feet most likely seeing him as a possible savior - let’s remember that she’s idealized him as a brave knight all along, and he does promise she won’t be hurt, which is what he technically should do per his knightly vows. now, when he tries to argue for her staying in harrenhal, ser bonifer ie the person appointed to mind the castle in his absence says he doesn’t want her around because she’s a supposed whore regardless of how bad off she is right now. he could have ignored the issue, but he doesn’t and takes her as a washerwoman in his own army, and with that he already removes her from a place where she would have been even less safe than usual, but the important thing is in the next part:

Pia listened as solemnly as a girl of five being lessoned by her septa. That's all she is, a little girl in a woman's body, scarred and scared. Peck was taken with her, though. Jaime suspected that the boy had never known a woman, and Pia was still pretty enough, so long as she kept her mouth closed. There's no harm in him bedding her, I suppose, so long as she's willing.

One of the Mountain's men had tried to rape the girl at Harrenhal, and had seemed honestly perplexed when Jaime commanded Ilyn Payne to take his head off. "I had her before, a hunnerd times," he kept saying as they forced him to his knees. "A hunnerd times, m'lord. We all had her." When Ser Ilyn presented Pia with his head, she had smiled through her ruined teeth.

now: never mind that jaime (who as we all know is not the kind of person who reacts with a shrug when hearing/knowing someone has been raped or he wouldn’t be feeling guilty about his inaction with rhaella nor he’d have risked his hide to save brienne from it thrice two of which were post-hand loss and in one of those he wasn’t even able to stand by himself) always thinks that if she has to bed someone the important thing is that she’s *willing* nor thinks less of her for he promiscuity, which for westeros is fairly progressive all things considered… but he gives her the head of the guy who tried to rape her and by his own admission did it before *a hundred times* same as other soldiers in his group, and… she smiles through ruined teeth ie she doesn’t even care about hiding it, when later she takes care to cover her mouth when she speaks around other nobles. also, we can discuss that when she and peck start sleeping together jaime tells them to use his bed and:

The squire turned beet red.

"If she'll have you, take her. She'll teach you a few things you'll find useful on your wedding night, I don't doubt, and you're not like to get a bastard by her." Pia had spread her legs for half his father's army and never quickened; most like the girl was barren. "If you bed her, though, be kind to her."

"Kind, my lord? How . . . how would I . . . ?"

"Sweet words. Gentle touches. You don't want to wed her, but so long as you're abed treat her as you would your bride."

now: obviously he can’t tell his squire (who is still noble) that he should marry a woman who is a commoner, most likely barren and way older than he is, but he tells him that he still should treat her *as if she was* until they sleep together, and his standard for how you’d treat your bride is sweet words and gentle touches which most likely is not what pia’s gotten until this point much if ever, and throughout the entire thing while he is attracted to her and he doesn’t deny it to himself he still doesn’t act on it. and meanwhile since she’s still traveling with his army of which he’s in command she’s in a position of relative safety, never mind that if people know that he ordered beheaded the guy who tried to touch her when she wasn’t willing she definitely isn’t under that risk right now.

back to the beginning, what are the knightly vows again? protecting innocent/weaker people including women and children who can’t defend themselves any better. what has jaime done with pia on her end? he didn’t sleep with her nor treated her as a commodity, he has quite literally protected her taking her into his service when she was in danger, he’s made sure that she wouldn’t have to sleep with anyone she didn’t want to, has respected her agency and gave her the head of at least one of the guys who raped her, which considering that the person hurting her was *gregor clegane* ie the man he’s roundabout compared *himself* to in asos if we go by the smiling knight = gregor comparison… it’s kind of the entire opposite thing and absolutely counts as fulfilling every single knightly vow he made since he protected/saved/avenged a woman in a position of absolute helplessness about whose agency no one cares because everyone decided that since she likes sex then she must always want it.

the thing that’s important though is that by doing that… he’s pretty much proved her right, in the sense that if she’s always imagined him as the brave handsome knight since she was a little girl and he had just been anointed and she always idealized him to the point where she’d think about him when being with other people because obviously his idealized self would be everything she might want then he about went and proved her right regardless of any other shortcoming of his or regardless of any horrible thing he might have done before or after, because to her he most likely would be a knight out of songs since he did waltz in, promised no one would hurt her after it happened to her and actually delivered on it in spades.

but, while for *her* it’s definitely the case, jaime himself doesn’t think of it in very knightly terms, at most we have:

“Ser Harwyn says those tales are lies." Lady Amerei wound a braid around her finger. "He has promised me Lord Beric's head. He's very gallant." She was blushing beneath her tears.

Jaime thought back on the head he'd given to Pia. He could almost hear his little brother chuckle. Whatever became of giving women flowers? Tyrion might have asked. He would have had a few choice words for Harwyn Plumm as well, though gallant would not have been one of them.

now, he’s thinking of it in the context of a romantic gesture since it was described as one before, but then he says gallant wouldn’t be one of those words and he doesn’t really register what he did as *gallant* or knightly while most likely pia would. also, he’s comparing himself to both the smiling knight and gregor (in another quote later he dreams of punching in the teeth one of cersei’s lovers the way gregor did while he’s still working through how betrayed that made him feel, but thing is, he doesn’t act on that at any point except when he punches ronnet for brienne and it’s nowhere near as bad as what he describes himself as) but he behaves in the entire opposite way since at least in pia’s case gregor about ruined her life and he avenged it/helped her/did what he could for her which is about more than most likely anyone ever did, and to her certainly everything he did would indeed look as knightly as it goes.

but like the entire point is that jaime doesn’t think of the knightly deeds he actually pulls off as such - he doesn’t think that of saving brienne’s life at the bear pit/saving her from being raped/giving her oathkeeper when brienne herself definitely sees them as such as in her affc chapters she keeps on thinking about both instances as proof that he’s Definitely A Honorable Person, he doesn’t think that of what he does with pia nor of anything else positive he’s ever done/does, which ties with the overall arc he has in which he has to realize that he can still be the person he wanted to be. in asos he thinks he turned into the smiling knight when he’s never been all along, in both asos and affc he does behave following the code when he can and hates not being able to when he can’t/when he’s forced to (see having to take riverrun when he says he has sworn to not raise arms against the tullys and he hates it) but he still doesn’t seem to have taken the leap and realized that he actually behaves in entirely different ways than he thinks (see that he thinks he’s the same as cersei when most of the things he does/he cares about are the entire contrary), so the subplot with pia shows that he’s actually doing that without realizing it… with the twist that, going back to the beginning:

he thinks he turned into the smiling knight (= gregor) sometime along the way when he wanted to be arthur dayne, then he’s the literal knight in shining armor to a girl who was hurt by gregor and his father’s men who always thought he was pretty much the embodiment of the institution same as jaime thought arthur dayne was, and it’s a girl who has no idea of anything else he might have done other than killing aerys and she obviously doesn’t care since she doesn’t mention it when she goes to his bed the first time. so there is someone to whom he was an arthur dayne all along, and the moment he could do something for her, he actually delivered and definitely was arthur dayne to her, not the smiling knight, and she’d know since she was hurt by the man jaime himself compared to him first. now, it’s important because everyone else that has had a chance to know that jaime actually does have that potential is people with whom he has an actual rship/who have seen him at his worst/with whom he has unresolved Issues To Solve ASAP (I’m meaning mostly brienne and tyrion - brienne didn’t like him whatsoever in the beginning and with tyrion there’s the whole matter of the tysha backstory which obviously ruined the high opinion tyrion had of him even if I think it’s salvageable) but in this case pia already thought she was arthur dayne As A Paragon Of Knightly Virtues (not as how arthur actually was which is as stated an entire other issue in itself) and he lived up to it without even realizing he was doing it, but he doesn’t even think once about whether he shouldn’t help her or he shouldn’t give her the time of the day. like, he doesn’t really consider doing otherwise or not giving a shit about what happens to her regardless. which should also automatically suggest that it’s actually in his nature to do the right thing/follow the basics of his vows. obviously he didn’t realize that but as finding out he has it in himself to be the person he wanted to be when he was young and that he didn’t turn into a gregor stand-in is I think one of the main themes in his arc, I also think this specific subplot really underlines how he’s still in the middle of figuring it out while also stressing that regardless of what he thinks about what he is or what he became, he can be arthur dayne As A Paragon and that he can deliver on that/be what he always dreamed he could be for someone who already saw him as that paragon and whom he hasn’t disappointed in any other way.

in short: by helping someone who exactly meets all the criteria for ‘category he swore to protect when taking his vows’ when this person already saw him as a paragon, he’s actually contradicting his own assessment of his morality/honor or lack thereof, because while he thinks he wanted to be arthur dayne and turned into the contrary, to other people he always was arthur dayne and when he could show them that he could be, he delivered on those expectations, differently from what most others did to him, and I find it quite a beautiful if heartbreaking parallel and also definitely a not so small hint that his overall storyline is going towards realize that he, in fact, isn’t the smiling knight at all and never actually has been.

#jaimelannisterweek #jaime lannister #gotjaimelannister #jaime lannister week #pia #asoiaf meta #ch: jaime lannister #janie writes meta #huh i managed to write this finally #HAVE SOME META FOR FREE FOR ALL DAY i guess #also apparently i tagged wrong the previous two fics lmao i'm a genius am i not? brb retagging #do i have feelings about jaime and pia? most likely #will i ever stop having them? never

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