#my angry and violent daughter that i love dearly
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chuchu my beloved 🥹
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walks
this picture is literally not the same vibe as what this story is but he's so - you know - that anything works. matty acting a little bit over protective. it's cute. i like her. thank you all for the support and love. happy reading
-warning: mentions of pregnancy (this was requested abundantly today but if you don't like that, i have others that don't include anything like that)
Quiet. That’s all you really wanted. Quietness, a break from the overwhelming sounds coming from the studio and the excessive laughter (that in every other circumstance you have always found so heartwarming) and the horrible screeches from instruments being using improperly. Heaviness weighed at your front, your hands rubbing at your swollen belly as you lay lazily on the mattress settled in the center of your bedroom. Coming through the walls, you can hear the thrum of a cello and the terrible clanging of an instrument you couldn’t name, and that was it, you finally had enough. Quickly, you send a text to your husband, telling him that you need to go for a walk, and you’ll be back in a bit. Easy. He likely wouldn’t even notice until you’re back.
Messily getting yourself off of the bed, you steady yourself on your feet, your eyes falling to the floor, where your stomach is now hiding your toes. Usually, Matty is there to give you any help with your shoes that you might ask, but the idea of calling him and having to explain where you’re going (when you don’t actually have any idea) is making you angry. Normally, it’s very rare that you get angry or irate with him. Matty has always been nothing but sweet and loving to you, always wanting what’s best for you, however, what’s best for you at nearly thirty-four weeks pregnant is going on a walk by yourself without the clanging of instruments ringing in your ears. Matty would tell everyone to leave if you asked, you know this as well, but they need to work and you want to be alone, as much as telling him that would absolutely kill you.
“God damn it!” you groan, rolling your head back against your neck in frustration. “I love you so much already, but you are in the way,” you say to your belly, the gentle rolls relaxing your frustration only slightly, because as soon as you look up, there’s a knock on the door and twisting of the knob. “Can you put on my shoes for me? I need to take a walk, get a bit of fresh air and see the world, but our daughter is kind of in the way of me getting my shoes on.”
“I, I can ask everyone to leave for a bit, I suppose,” Matty sighs, pursing his lips and looking from you to the hallway. Matty shakes his head, seemingly making a decision quickly before walking towards you and grabbing the shoes that you always left outside of your closet for moments like these. “I’ll grab my shoes and I’ll take you. Can grab a tea from that shop in town, if you’d like? Are you still nauseous?”
“Matty, I want to go alone,” you say, a softened whimper leaving your lips as his fingertips gently massage the soles of your feet. “I know you need to work. I just want a bit of quiet.” His last question finally registers, and you suddenly feel guilty for how annoyed you are at him. “No, I’m okay, right now. I just need a break.”
“I can work any time, baby,” he says surely, leaning forward to kiss your bare belly and stand on his feet. “I’ll tell everyone to leave. It’s not a bother. I’m sorry I didn’t ask them to go earlier.”
“Matty, I love you dearly, but please listen to me when I tell you this,” you say, standing on your feet and taking his face in your hands. “I have not had a minute alone in nearly three weeks. I am going to go insane. Clinically unwell.”
“I’m not comfortable with you going out by yourself,” Matty says certainly, taking your hands in his gently and pulling them away from his face. His hands leave your wrists and settle on the curve of your stomach. He’s the only one that can do this without you getting violently angry. “I don’t want to think about what could happen if you get lost or someone from a bloody tabloid finds you or you start feeling ill or something. I just, I would feel more comfortable if I came. Call me annoying, that’s fine. Can you please just let me come? I’ll be quiet the whole time. Not even a sound.”
“One inkling of a sound, Matty, and you’re sleeping on the couch, without a blanket,” you say warningly, standing in front of the mirror and adjusting the way your chest is sitting in the sports bra on your torso. “My tits are ginormous.” Matty turns to you, tying the laces of his shoes, and you can see him trying to hide the laughter wanting to break free. “You can laugh.”
“I agree, your tits are ginormous.” Matty stands on his feet and walks over to you, grabbing a pair of your favorite sunglasses and slipping them over your nose when you turn around and lean your forehead against his chest. “You’re not feeling great, are you?”
“I am miserable,” you murmur, your voice muffled by his chest and the drawled moans leaving your lips as his fingers scratch your head soothingly. “I’m hot. I’ve got an extra forty pounds on my belly. My tits do not fit in anything. And, I love your band and I love the guys, but you make the most fucking noise I have ever heard in my life.”
Matty laughs breathily, leaning down to kiss your head sweetly. “I’m sorry you’re miserable, darling. I would do all this instead of you, if that was humanly possible.” His honey eyes are soft when you tilt your head to look at him. “And I’m sorry that you’ve felt like you’re going insane the last few weeks. I just want to make sure that you’re safe, and I cannot do that if I’m not with you.” He leans his forehead against yours, “Have to keep my girls safe, don’t I?”
“That was a very evil thing to say, and you know it,” you grumble, pulling away from his hold around you and adjusting the sunglasses, your arms reaching around your head to tie your hair out of your face. “You can’t use the ‘my girls’ thing and get away with it!”
“I’m coming on the walk, aren’t I?” Matty opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to walk ahead of him, the hallway quiet and still, meaning the guys had already left for the day. “I would say that this is me getting away with it, but I know you’ve got at least another twenty minutes of anger left in you.”
“You made me this way,” you say, taking his hand and using his steadiness as you descend down the stairwell. “Not only did you get me pregnant, but you also waited until I was about to leave for college in New York City to tell me that you had feelings for me.”
“Not this again,” Matty groans, opening the front door and waiting for you to walk outside before he follows you, closing and locking the house. “It’s been years. And we’re married!”
“I have twenty minutes of anger left on the clock,” you say teasingly, smiling brightly at him as you hold out your hand, waiting for his fingers to lace through yours. “Have ten seconds to back out of the walk, starting now.”
“Not a chance,” he says, rolling his eyes and grabbing your hand. “Get walking.”
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opinions on the Geats cast now and what are your hopes for the endgame.
I just think they are neat
I love trickster characters who occasionally even fool themselves with their own trickeries. Lies upon lies upon lies. Ace was lying to his fellow constentants, the DGP, his real family too probably, and to himself. He'd try to keep the others at arms' length and act flippant, but still fundamentally a good person. And he really is losing it - both with having let them get too close to him, and just everything unraveling around him. I love him so much. And he's still ready to do anything because all these lives of his, he went through so many things just to find her mother - and he'd do anything to get her back. Anything to free her.
Keiwa is... I understand a kids' show needs comic relief, but I'm just tired of it always being Keiwa, and always after he just seemed to hit some kind of treshold in his character development. But god, I love him. He's just a Good Boy. I love a Good Boy. I want him to break down and snap and and go on a rampage before calming down. He earned it. Pop off babyboy.
Neon is just such a good one, and probably my favourite female rider I had seen so far. The escapism, the depression, the identity issues inherent from finding out you were created for one reason, one reason you don't seem to fulfill anymore. Wanting to disappear. I love her so much and I wish I could hug her.
Michinaga. SIGH. My love for Michinaga is pretty well-documented at this point. I love vengeance-driven assholes. He will set himself on fire to make the world burn, and I love him so much for it. He's destructive and angry, and probably also lies to himself that he doesn't care about anyone else, there are no Kamen Riders, and even there are some vaguely Better(tm) ones, he is too far gone at this point. And still, he wasn't murdering them when he did his culling. I love him.
I love Tsumuri so much and I am so happy she is getting more focus and development now. I love her and I need her to be on my screen More.
Win is my babygirl and I love him dearly. He's just so fucking fun. I missed him so badly.
I miss Sae, and I wish she would have stuck around longer. She was neat.
I am one of the four people who enjoy Daichi's nonsense, lmao. He's so pathetic and horrible! He thinks he is in Death Note! He is so horrible! I love him dearly. It was also funny when he went through Lamentation with basically only chewing on popcorn to watch the drama and did nothing else. I wish he would have done more horrible things - well there is still time.
Sara is sweet. I don't have anything else to say about her. I hope she gets a Buckle, even if not on the show, then in a vcine or something.
Girori was a fun initial villain. Chirami was funny as fuck. Suel is amazing if he really is gonna be the final boss and I hope he NEVER stops being anything else but a floating outfit.
I love the disaster sponsor gang. I love Ziin and his mess. He's a total mess, but I love how he became steadfast, and didn't even turn his back on Ace even though Ace wants to destroy his beloved DGP. I love his character development. He is a disaster blue fox and I love him.
I love Kyuun. I love how he's a socially awkward mess, who always puts his foot into his mouth most the time, and struggling to be genuine. I miss him. Dumb lion boy.
I don't know why people are shocked about Kekera, lol. He looks like a yakuza, dresses like a yakuza, talks like a yakuza, why are people shocked when he started to act like a yakuza too? Of course he will do messy shit to put his blorbo into sitations! And I love him.
Once again I am one of the five people who actually love Beroba, and the vicious violent hatred against her in the tags is highkey making me uncomfortable. My horrible daughter who did everything wrong, and I hope she never gets redeemed. She's just such a delightful and fun villain. I love her so much. One day I will write a character study about her, I swear to god.
Niram sexy. I thought he might have more to do but I really love him, I love the air he gives off, I loved the few times he transformed and his fighting style. That's it. Bit bummed it seems like he won't be the final boss, but Suel will do fine. Niram can just stand there and look sexy.
Samas seems like a girlboss, but I don't know enough about her to really care.
Endgame...
The DGP has to burn. Mitsume will probably die, and the most Ace will get out of her was either a final powerup, or a hug, or both, and not much else. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd die before the end of the show either, with Suel forcing Tsumuri into her role.
(Can you imagine? Suel laughing about "want me too free your mother? sure!" and Mitsume's statue is falling apart, while Tsumuri is screaming and taking her place? It'd be so cruel and I could totally imagine it.)
I want all of them to have one more powerup. I want Keiwa to snap, go on a bit of a rampage, before circling back. I want Neon, Ace and Michinaga all realize they are... not alone anymore. They can lean on each other now.
I want them to henshin side by side, the four of them, for the final battle - just like the Doctor Riders went to face off Chronus at the end of Ex-Aid. Just like the four riders walked up to Evolt before the final fights of Build. I want them to be an united front for the first time, all of them reaching the conclusion that the DGP has to go. (Keiwa and Neon has a bit more development to go through before that, of course. But in the end.)
I wish we would see the four of them remember.
I want the four of them to remember, and being together in the end (well. you know. obviously not Together Together on my screen, but like, in each others' orbit).
I don't find it unlikely that they'd maybe. Forget. Because the story would end with a hard reset, erasing the DGP. I'm not sure if Ace would or not - I wouldn't be surprised if the show would be mean and let Ace be the only one who remembers. WHICH WOULD BE EVEN WORSE THAN BUILD. AT LEAST SENTO HAD BANJOU. AAAARGH.
I know vcines and other movies would fix it, but I AM STILL TERRIFIED OF IT. I would need to write so much about it.
Anyway I want them to fight together, the DGP to fuck back off into the future (Beroba maybe dragged back, to maybe, you know, be a vcine or special villain later on), and then possibly either being in each others' orbit in the end, or at least looking for each other.
I think it'd be funny if all of them would forget (Ace actually being granted the mercy of forgetting would be nice), and yet STILL would end up around each other. Drawn together. But that's definitely just wistful thinking from me.
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Father Knows Best-Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader
(GIF credit to @devileyedbanana)
Masterlist
Tags: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2
Requested by anonymous: ‘Can I request a Tommy x daughter angst one shot where she falls in love with a rival gangster and Tommy asks her to choose, and she chooses her love but then he turns out to be violent and Tommy comes and saves her.’
Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Daughter!Reader, Finn Shelby x Shelby!Reader (Uncle)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Alcohol, being drunk, swearing, mentions of a sexual nature, family arguments, domestic abuse, weaponry, fluff
(A/N: Matthew is a made up character, AND THIS IS MUCH LONGER THAN I ANTICIPATED)
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I covered my mouth as I giggled uncontrollably, Matthew was shushing me despite chuckling himself. We held onto each other as we stumbled out of the club, our feet aching from all the dancing we had done, struggling to walk in a straight line due to the drinks. As we stood up straight, swaying slightly from the alcohol, Matthew took me in his arms, kissing me sloppily. Neither of us were anywhere near sober.
“You’re so beautiful.” he breathed out, going in for another kiss.
I smiled into it, gripping onto his coat for support.“Tonight was amazing. I don’t want it to end.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
I groaned.“It does though. You know I’m already past my curfew.”
“Your dad should be happy that you’re out making friends.”
“You don’t know anything about my dad then.”
We hesitated to start the walk home, though both knew that Matthew wouldn’t receive the best welcome if he got me back any later. I was in trouble now anyway, but I didn’t care what any of my family thought. Time flew by too quickly when I was with Matthew, it was as if we never had enough of each other. And I wasn’t stupid, my father definitely knew about us. As leader of the Peaky Blinders, he had eyes everywhere, and if he wanted his men to follow me, they would. I had spotted several of them just tonight, but I didn’t care.
Seeing as these men would be reporting back to my dad as soon as the night was over, I didn’t want to wake up to a lecture from him. Instead, I decided to head to my uncle’s house. Finn had given me an extra key, just in case, and we were extremely close in age, he understood what I was going through; he also wasn’t allowed to do anything dangerous, let alone be involved in any plans, even tough he tried.
“You sure your uncle won’t let me in? You can try to be quiet.” Matthew whispered as I stood outside of Finn’s house.
I scoffed at him.“I can be quiet!”
“Well I have yet to experience that.”
“He won’t let you in. I’m sorry Matthew.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’ll see you in the next few days?”
“Of course you will.”
We slowly kissed, hands still wrapped around each other. It was always so difficult to let him go. This time, Matthew was the one to pull away, gently kissing me on the forehead before leaving. I watched him leave until I couldn’t see him before unlocking the door. Although I had been incredibly quiet, I heard a thud, someone (my uncle) was fumbling around, thinking an intruder was here. He had a gun in his hands as he whipped open his bedroom door. The panic in his face was replaced with annoyance.
“For fucks sake (Y/N), what do you think you’re doing?” he sighed, rubbing his eyes.
“Um, coming in from a great night out?” I said, chuckling to myself as I walked into a chair.
“Oh good, you’re drunk. Why didn’t you get the driver to take you back to your house?”
“Because I don’t want to deal with dad. You know he’s awake too, he would shout at me as soon as I stepped foot in the door.”
Finn rolled his eyes.“You were with that prick weren’t you?”
“His name is Matthew and he’s not a prick. He’s my boyfriend. And I know that dad knows about him.”
“You should really stay away from him. He doesn’t come from a good family. We’re in the same circles (Y/N), people tell me things.”
I groaned.“Urgh, I didn’t come here to get told off by someone who is literally two years older than me. I’m going to bed. Feel free to call my dad, tell him I’m fine and that I had a good time, cause I know he won’t ask that.”
“What do you mean?”
“As soon as you call, or he calls you, the first question will be, ‘who was she with?’. Yeah, my dad really cares for me.”
Even though I slept late into the afternoon, I still didn’t feel rested. My head was pounding, I felt as if I would be sick every time I moved, and my feet throbbed, so all in all, signs of a great night out. As I shuffled into the kitchen, Finn was sat at the table, arms crossed and staring at me. Oh no, he was not going to act like a saint right now.
“I’m not dealing with you right now Finn.” I said as I poured myself a cup of tea.
“Tommy’s coming to get you in an hour. Make sure you’re ready.”
I mockingly saluted him.“Yes sir!”
“Come off it (Y/N). I don’t get why you act like this. Sometimes you’re really sweet, other times you’re...”
“Go on, get it out of your system.”
“You can be a bitch.”
“Look, I understand what you’re saying.” I sat down across from him.“But dad really hasn’t paid much attention to me recently. He doesn’t even greet me when I come down for breakfast. I know he’s got a lot on his plate, and it’s a big plate, but lately he’s been really harsh on me.”
“It’s because of Matthew.”
“He’s going to have to drop that soon. I get that I’m his only daughter so he’s overprotective, and because I’m a Shelby, but he doesn’t have to worry.”
“That’s the thing (Y/N). This Matthew has made him worry even more.”
“Why? Because it’s my first serious boyfriend?”
“No because...look, what I tell you now, you can’t say a word of it to anyone else, do you understand?”
“Finn-”
“Do you understand?”
I hesitated, but nodded, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Matthew is....he’s part of a rival gang.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.“I get you don’t want me to date him, but that’s ridiculous.”
“(Y/N), I’m being deadly serious.”
“No he’s not. I’ve met his family, they’re sweethearts.”
“Because they want you to trust them.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m not trying to piss you off, or make up something so you break up with him. He’s dangerous (Y/N), it’s all one big trap. They get Thomas Shelby’s daughter and they can bargain for anything.”
“Wouldn’t it be less hassle to just kidnap me? What if I didn’t fall for Matthew, what would they do then?”
“That’s not the point-”
“No, there is no point to this, at all Finn.”
“(Y/N), please, I’m trying to look out for you.”
“I’m going to get ready. I need to look decent for dad.”
Part of a rival gang? Pathetic. It wasn't even an interesting story. Yes, Matthew was a little wild, he brought out the party girl in me, but I was having fun! As long as he wasn't harming me, nor were we harming anyone else in the process, I saw no flaws with our relationship. We also had our downtime moments, times where we could lie down in each others arms, hint at our futures. Apparently not everyone could see that.
There was a knock at the door, and I sighed to myself, knowing my time of hiding was over. Luckily dressed, looking pretty decent after the night before, I took time walking out of the spare room, hearing some mumbling before I even saw my dad. Although he never showed much emotion anyway, I could tell he wasn't happy, staring me down as I approached him in last night's clothes.
"Morning dad." I greeted him kindly, hoping we would have this conversation away from Finn.
Dad looked at Finn in disbelief, then back to me."Morning? Fucking good morning?"
"Dad-"
"Get in the car."
I obeyed his order but not before saying goodbye to Finn."Thanks for letting me stay."
He just nodded to me, awkwardly waiting by the door as I followed dad outside. I kept up with his usual long strides, bracing myself for what could end up as a screaming match. Thinking about it, I never argued much with dad, but when we did, it was over serious topics, never anything petty. I loved him dearly, he always looked out for me, gave me anything I wanted, ensured that I had a good life he never had growing up. So the guilt growing inside of me was huge, but my stubbornness was strong. I was an adult now, I was allowed to make these decisions.
Surprisingly, there was no driver for us. I slipped into the passenger seat, both of us remaining silent as dad started the drive. I watched the streets of Small Heath pass by, the regulars of the city slowly making their way to work, dirty from the shift the day before, probably drunk to keep themselves warm. It was a sad, poor place sometimes.
"Are we going to talk?" I mumbled, putting my focus on him.
He sighed loudly through his nose."Are you going to listen?"
"Please can we not be malicious about this?"
"Why didn't you just come home last night? Any bar would have let you use a phone, they know who you are."
"Because I didn't want the hassle. And I stayed at Finn's, so I don't understand why you're so angry?"
"You were with that boy."
"Dad, when will you just accept that I'm twenty one and I'm allowed to see people?"
"It's not that. If you had found someone who wasn't trouble-"
"Matthew isn't trouble."
"You don't know everything (Y/N)."
"Oh, don't tell me, he's part of rival gang, right?"
Dad's eyes widened as his head snapped towards me, his gaze flickering between me and the road."You what?"
"Finn told me."
Dad groaned, putting all of his concentration back on the road."Told him to keep his mouth shut. Neither of you seem to be able to follow orders."
I rolled my eyes.
"I saw that."
"Look, I'm sorry for not at least calling last night, I know that was wrong."
Dad was silent.
"But I really like Matthew. I don't want you to scare him away, or make up ridiculous stories about him."
"Stories eh? That's what you think they are?"
"I know they are."
Suddenly, dad put his foot down, making us go faster than I liked. He ignored my pleas for him to go slower, somehow not swerving off of the country roads that lead to our house. He was driving at this speed for far too long, skidding on the gravel as we braked in front of the house. Dad hastily got out of the car, whereas I needed a second to get my breath back. He was already walking through the front door by the time I was shakily getting out of the car, stumbling in my heels across the gravel.
I called after him but he wouldn't listen. Storming towards his office, he flung open the doors, not even flinching when they whacked into the walls. Quickly following, I watched his manic actions, shuffling through paper work and slapping down files onto the desk.
"There's your story." he said, pointing at them.
Hesitantly I walked towards him, scanning my eyes over his evidence. There were pictures, reports, files containing personal information. I focused more on the parts about Matthew, reading things such as where he was born, where he had lived, the schools he attended....and none of them matched with what he had told me. There was a portrait picture of him, I didn't know where dad got it from, and another photo slipped out from under it as I picked it up. Only this time, it was a mugshot.
"So, do you still think we're lying?" dad said.
"I...I..." I was speechless.
"You know that everything I do, I do for you. You're my daughter, it's my job to protect you. You need to stay away from that man."
"Why wouldn't he tell me?"
"Did you really just ask that?"
"We've talked about everything. He didn't even hint at it." I was talking to myself at this point."I met his family. Why would they go through all of that? Host that dinner, make me welcome, say such nice things?"
"I didn't take you to be stupid (Y/N)."
"I know what it sounds like. But dad, Matthew wouldn't lie to me-"
"HE'S USING YOU!" he screamed at me."You're a fucking Shelby, you're the daughter of Thomas Shelby, you have a huge target on your head! It's an easy way to get to me, and to find out secrets about us!"
My mouth dropped open in shock."I would never tell him anything they he wasn't supposed to know!"
"Wouldn't you? He seems to have a hold on you, and it's scaring me. I've never seen you like this."
"That 'hold' you're on about is called love! Not that you would know anything about that, seeing as my mother was a whore!"
"Don't you dare speak to me like that!"
"It wouldn't be a surprise would it, if I ended up with a fucked up relationship? Because I had oh such a great example from you. Fucks a random woman, she knows who he is, so she dumps the baby on him, hoping he won't give her away to an orphanage."
"Stop changing the conversation. We are talking about how we get you away Matthew."
“You’re not going to.”
“(Y/N)-”
“I’ve been with him for months, why is this now just coming out? How long have you known about this?”
He didn’t have to say anything but I still got my answer.
“Ah.” I scoffed a laugh.“You have known about this. And for some reason, you have’t decided to mention this.”
“It was for-”
“I’m going to stop you right there. Dad, I am going to speak to Matthew about this.”
“You will not go near him.”
“Yes I will. I’m going to get the truth, right now.”
My words escaped me before I could really think about them. I was already walking away from him, back out to the front door. Opening a cabinet, I searched through the keys for any car, any vehicle that would get me far away from here.
“I’m having someone follow you.” dad informed me.
“I know.”
“You’re stepping into enemy territory.”
“We’re not in the war anymore dad. And you’re not a soldier.”
I finally found the right key, heading towards the only car I had ever driven. Making my way to the garage, I ignored my dad, not even looking at him. I definitely felt guilty for what I had said, and what I was about to do. But I needed to do this myself, I needed to speak to Matthew without the pressure of anyone else.
I was not a good driver. Everyone was safe whilst I was driving, I just wasn’t very fast or great with spacial awareness. In my head, I had expected to be racing to Matthew’s, getting to his in record time. This had ruined my fantasy. Once I did reach his house, I slowly lined up the car with the path, wincing when I bumped into the curb; thank god no one was around to see that.
“(Y/N)?” I heard Matthew call me as I got out of the car. He was approaching me down the pathway of his house.
“Matthew, I need to speak with you, urgently.” I rushed out, pushing him back towards his home.
“Woah, wait, wait. What’s happened? Why are you in last nights clothes?”
“Just get inside.”
By looking at his house, you could tell he was well off. It was in a nicer neighbourhood, it was separate from the other houses and had multiple rooms. I asked him if anyone else was home, and when he said no, I was relieved. We didn’t want them getting involved, and I felt like shouting if this went wrong.
“You’re worrying me (Y/N).” Matthew said.
“Oh, are you worried about me?” I sarcastically said.
“(Y/N), can you just tell me what’s going on?!”
“Are you part of a rival gang against the Peaky Blinders?”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“What makes you say something like that?”
“My family told me.”
“What makes them think that?”
“Matthew, I’ve seen the evidence. I didn’t admit it to my dad, but I believed him. I’ve seen your real information. You’ve lied to me about a lot of things. And why do you have a fucking mugshot?”
He exhaled through his nose, looking away from me for a few seconds.“I can’t lie anymore.”
“You shouldn’t have in the first place!”
He held up his hands in defence.“Alright, alright, let’s just use our inside voices. I’ll explain everything to you.”
Matthew directed me to his front room, sitting beside me, and although I initially wanted to shuffle away from him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it; especially when he took my hands in his, resting them on his lap. He wasn’t afraid to look me in the eyes, perhaps a sign of him about to tell the truth.
“(Y/N), your family is right. I am part of a company that rivals yours-”
I tried pulling my hands away, but he gripped onto me tightly.
“-but we would never cause any harm. We are only rivals in business. There is no bloodshed, no injuries, no deaths. The only thing we fight over are numbers.”
“That still doesn’t explain everything.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know if you already knew who I was. You know how it feels to have everyone already judge you based on a name.”
“Don’t use that against me.”
“I’m not. I’m trying to connect with you on this. The mugshot is from a brawl we had with a couple of ex-employees, they wanted to expose us with lies. Unfortunately we were typical men, and apparently that was the only way we thought to solve it. The police were called and I spent a night in a cell, but I was released the next morning.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded.
“You promise?”
“I promise. And my family have not been plotting anything like your father thinks they have. Of course, they had an idea when I told them about you, you know, to ‘unite’ our families to stop the feud. Obviously that was ridiculous because fights don’t just end like that. But when I brought you to them, it was because I was proud of you, I wanted to show them the amazing woman I had found and fell in love with.”
“Love?”
“Yes. I love you (Y/N).”
“I love you too Matthew. I’m sorry for attacking you with all these questions. But even if I tried to convince my dad that he was wrong, he wouldn’t believe me. I’m scared he’s going to try and separate us.”
“Then live with me!”
“What? No I couldn’t do that to you-”
“Of course you can! You’ve seen this house, there’s plenty of room, my family loves you, it would be perfect! And...” he leaned in closer to me, whispering in my ear,“they’re hardly here, so we would have a lot of alone time.”
Although my heart jumped at the thought of living with Matthew, being able to see him everyday, spending every moment with him, I also dreaded telling my dad. I was old enough to make my own decision though. I could move in with Matthew if I wanted, what was stopping me? I believed everything he said, he had an explanation for everything. If Matthew was in a rival gang, using me for their own purpose, wouldn’t he just threaten me or kidnap me when I confronted him? It all seemed like too much effort.
All of that information dad accumulated must have been biased, especially if our families were rival companies. Although I was leaning more towards staying with Matthew, I didn’t want to lose my dad. I would have to be an idiot to believe that he would let me leave home with a man he didn’t like, but on the other hand, I was at the age where I could do what I wanted. Just because I had the last name Shelby didn’t mean I was going to be trapped by it.
There had been a lot of back and forth that day, both emotionally and physically. But here I was once again arguing with my dad. Stupidly, I had let Matthew come along (he was very persuasive), though he stayed in the car. Set on convincing him to let me leave with Matthew, we shouted at each other, screaming our opinions. He didn’t believe a word I said. Tears streamed down my face as I grew more frustrated, pleading him to listen, to give Matthew another chance.
“I don’t know why I’m bothering to ask! I could have left without asking, without even telling you. But I did it out of respect for you.” I suddenly exclaimed.
Dad stopped shouting for a moment, heavily breathing.“Fine. Go then. If you’re so grown up, pack your bags and move onto the next part of your life. I just hope for your sake that I’m wrong.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
I had never felt such conflict in my heart before. The first month of moving away was extremely hard, I cried most nights in Matthew’s arms. I had loathed every moment of collecting my belongings from dad’s house, saying goodbye to my family because I wouldn’t be seeing them as much as I was used to. They thought the same as dad, all had tried to convince me to stay. But Matthew was always by my side, reassuring me that we could start our own life now, not forgetting our old ones of course, but creating a new one.
And oh, how quickly things changed.
Three months, three months of pure bliss. I was living with my boyfriend, having the joy of seeing him everyday when he came home from work, eating meals with him, sleeping beside him, not having to arrange weeks in advance when to next see each other. Matthew had even started talking more about our future, hinting at marriage, finding our own home to live in. It excited me. I was growing up, doing all the things a person should do. Perhaps this would show dad that I was happy, that he was wrong about those rumours, and I could finally see him again. I missed him so much.
It was like binding a contract with the devil. Once that engagement ring was slipped on my finger, my whole world was flipped. Matthew started staying out late. I knew he wasn’t going out drinking, he didn’t smell of alcohol when he returned, neither could he be cheating because I never caught a whiff of perfume, or found a hair on his jacket, or even see him come home disgruntled; he was just as immaculate as he had been leaving. Sometimes him, his father, his brother and uncle would come home, immediately gathering in the front room and slamming the door shut. They would be in there for hours, deep in conversation. And that scared me, because it reminded me of my family whenever they were scheming.
“Matthew?” I had mumbled late one night, disturbed from my sleep when he opened the bedroom door.
“Go to sleep.” it was an order, no note of sympathy in his voice.
I watched him undress.“Are you alright? I heard you arguing downstairs.”
“What did I just say?” I had never seen someones head snap around so quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I didn’t know why I was apologising,“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t upset.”
“I am now.”
“Why?”
“Because of you! Asking me all these questions! I thought you were smart.” he made a show of collapsing into a chair, starting to untie his shoelaces.
I sat up.“Matthew, there’s obviously something wrong. You know you can tell me-”
He suddenly threw his shoe against the floor, but for a split second I thought it was aimed at me.“Just go to sleep (Y/N)!”
I was scared to move, thinking I would somehow do something else wrong. But when he continued to stare at me, I slowly slipped back under the covers, clinging them close to me, trying to steady my breathing to hide how much I wanted to cry. I listened to Matthew get ready for bed, the silence making me more nervous. He climbed into bed, shuffling towards me. I flinched as he wrapped an arm around me, his body pressed up against the back of mine. Who was this person? What made him act like this?
“I’m sorry darling.” he whispered in my ear.
But I didn’t feel comforted by that, or feel like I should give him forgiveness. And I realised it wouldn’t have even mattered if I did, because it kept on happening.
Smaller things started to annoy him. I would simply ask him what he was doing with his day, and receive an eye roll. He would question why I was wearing a specific outfit, who was I wearing it for? His family would try to interrogate every detail about me, and it was suspicious from the beginning. I wasn’t receiving questions such as ‘How many siblings do you have?’, ‘Do your family get on well?’, ‘Where do they live?’; I wondered if it was because everyone knew about the Peaky Blinders, but it was getting too personal. I had been an idiot to become trapped by this man, however, I wasn’t going to let them use me against my family.
Some days I didn’t know how much I could take of Matthew. I was walking on egg shells around him. I quickly learnt what not to say or ask, how the tone of my voice should be, how I should look. It didn’t matter how many times he was sweet to me, apologised, bought me presents, I didn’t recognise the man I had wanted to marry. His hand held mine tighter, his grip on my waist hurt, and our intimate moments together...everything hurt me, and he didn’t care.
“Writing a letter to a friend?” Matthew startled me from the doorway of our room.
My head whipped around to see him standing there, casually leaning against the door frame.“Yes.” I quickly replied.“Well, it’s for my aunt, Ada.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m asking how Karl is. He’s growing up so fast.”
“Mention anything about me?”
“Of course.”
“Can I read it?”
I handed him the letter, hiding my nerves. He read through it, no expression at first until he looked at me, smirking to himself. That wasn’t a good sign.
“(Y/N), my father was in the war. He’s told me about how they got secret messages out of the trenches.” he smugly said, walking towards a set of drawers and opening the top one. He pulled out a pile of letters, the envelopes opened, and the handwriting was mine.“Being Thomas Shelby’s daughter, I had expected more from you.”
“You’ve lied to me this whole time.” I shuddered at the thought of him reading my letters, begging for someone to help me escape.
“No, I haven’t.”
“You said you were only rivals in business!”I leapt up from my chair.“I fought my family to be with you! I am such a fucking idiot!”
“Isn’t that what we are? A business at the end of the day? Look, you’re here now. We’re happy. I can make us happier once we receive our upcoming bonus.”
“What bonus?”
“The bonus of having the Shelby Company all to ourselves.”
My eyes widened, screeching out as I lunged for him. I landed a good punch to his face, but due to his size and strength, he managed to grab my attacking arms.
“Stop now (Y/N), before you get hurt.”
That was a threat from him, not a concern I may harm myself. But for once I didn’t care. They were going after my family, I would take all the beatings for them.
“You’re a fucking liar! A cruel, terrible, waste of space!” I screamed, pulling myself away from him.“I vowed to never become one of those poor women who had to live this life. You were in my head, and I’ll admit it, you were convincing, but I know who you really are. You’re all a bunch of sad men who feel that they need to murder, threaten and mock anyone in order to make them feel better. You’ll never be as powerful as my dad, it just won’t happen.”
“You’ve grown naive. I did like you (Y/N), once I got a good look at you, I wasn’t angry about the plan of marrying you anymore. And I’ll admit, you’re an interesting woman, easy on the eye which helps. And how loyal you were, standing beside me in everything. Don’t be upset (Y/N), we don’t want any blood on our hands, as long as your family are cooperative. And think, you will be in charge with me once they’re gone.”
“Gone? What do you think you’re going to do with my family?!”
“Nothing. We have a meeting tomorrow, you’ll be coming, and you will convince them to hand it all over to us.”
“I won’t.”
“That wasn’t a request.” he opened one side of his blazer jacket, revealing his gun.
“I would rather die than go against them.”
“You’ve done that already. And I would rather keep your brains inside your head.”
The next morning felt colder, more bitter than it usually did here; there was even a low fog creating a tense atmosphere. Although I didn’t want to comply with Matthew, I knew I had to go to this meeting if I wanted a chance of seeing my family and keeping them alive. Running on adrenaline and anxiety alone, I forced myself to get out of bed, having to get changed under the watch of the man I thought I knew. As I did my hair in the mirror, I had a sudden realisation that I wasn’t me anymore. I looked older, years older even, even though I had only been engaged to this monster for a few months. My skin felt...unusual, not right, it didn’t feel clean. The bags under my eyes seemed to droop more and more every day, as if they were dragging down my eyes with them, and my lips were missing the feeling of a genuine smile.
Matthew kept a hand on my back as we walked downstairs, his family waiting for us. I wasn’t scared to glare at them. They weren’t going to kill me, not yet anyway. I still had some time to live, and I was going to despise them every second. They talked as if I wasn’t there, checking their weapons and the plan. Matthew had managed to confiscate my gun, I was left with my fists.
I was in the middle of the group as we made our way to the meeting point. I knew the area now, we were headed to the back of a factory. There was a lot of noise from the machines, no one would be walking around because they would be working, and Matthew’s family had a very good deal going on with the owner; they pay him large amounts of money to keep quiet, he takes that on top of his rich salary already and keeps quiet.
As we rounded the corner, my heart dropped when I saw just my dad standing there. Out of instinct, I started to hastily move towards him until Matthew grabbed me, gripping onto my arms to keep me in place. I felt like a little girl again, scared and needing her dad to come save her. Although dad was expressionless most of the time, I was worried that he thought I was neglecting them all these months, when really, Matthew had stopped any contact between us.
“Mr Thomas Shelby, when I said about meeting, I didn’t think it would be just yourself.” Matthew’s dad started.“But that’s fine, you’re the only one we want to speak with anyway.”
“A business meeting outside, eh?” dad said.“Why do I think this is heading in another direction?”
“Let’s just get to the point, yes? You know what we want, we’re not going to stop till we get it.”
“Of course.” dad didn’t seem bothered.
“And we’re serious. But don’t worry, there will still be a Shelby within the business once you pass it over.”
Matthew urged me forward, staying very close behind.“Dad, I’ve been trying to contact you but they wouldn’t let me! I-”
“Shut up. That’s not important.” Matthew snapped at me.
“Don’t talk to her that way.” dad lowly said, and I recognised the warning in his voice.
Matthew wasn’t bothered.“She does as she’s told.”
“I fucking don’t!”
I stamped on his foot with my heel, quickly getting out of his grip and turning around, managing to knee him in the head as he doubled over. Another gang member pulled me away, and I didn’t know whether he was ordered to or not, but he held a gun to my temple, his arm in a choke hold around my neck. I had tried, but it was too risky to do anything when my dad and I were clearly outnumbered.
Despite that, dad pulled out his own gun, aiming it at the man.“Let her go.”
Matthew’s dad laughed.“I know you’ll have some of your people hiding around here somewhere. But you’ve seen the weapons we carry today, and how many of us there are. You are under prepared.”
Dad was still for a moment, suddenly whistling. I saw the men around me tense, wondering what my dad could be summoning. As expected, more men started to appear around my dad, a much larger group, some even rounding around the back so that we were surrounded. They all held weapons of some sort; guns, knives, knuckle dusters, anything of the sort. Matthew’s dad tried to not look effected, though you could tell he was shitting himself.
“What were you saying about no bloodshed?" I smugly said to Matthew.
He frowned at me, taking me out of the man's arms and throwing me to the floor. He got out his own gun, once again placing it on my temple.
"I don't want to shoot her. But I will if you don't go through with our deal." he stated.
My hands were scraped, blood already trickling onto the ground. But I didn't moan, I didn't complain, worried that one slight move would set him off and he would shoot.
"You will put down your weapons, give me back my daughter, turn around, and walk away." dad said."We don't want to start a war between us. Look at my men, now look at yours. You will lose, and you will lose your lives along with it."
"How dare you threaten us-"
Matthew's dad interrupted."Shut up Matthew! This doesn’t mean you’ve won Shelby.”
Dad didn’t reply, lowering his gun but the others kept their weapons on display. Matthew’s dad was waiting for a reply, and when he didn’t get one, he sharply turned away. Matthew was shocked, glancing between me and him as he wondered what to do. Although I was desperate to run to dad, I slowly made a move to stand. Matthew kept his eyes glued on me. I slid off my beautiful engagement ring, now despising it, holding it up in front of his face, and letting it drop to the ground.
“In case you were wondering, the wedding is off.” I spat, instantly turning on my heel.
My body broke out into a sprint, throwing my arms around my dad’s neck as I burst into tears. My legs went weak as he clung onto me, reassuring me that I was safe now, I wouldn’t be hurt any longer. How could I have done such a thing? I turned my back on my family for a man I should have known more about. I had to face it, I was a Shelby, and it was going to be difficult to find someone who wanted me for me, not my name.
“I’m so sorry dad!” I sobbed.“Please forgive me! I don’t want to be hated by you forever. I need you. I love you!”
He calmly shushed me, as if I was a baby again.“It’s alright, it’s alright (Y/N). I’ve got you now. You’re my daughter, I would never hate you.”
“I’m sorry! I won’t ever leave you again.”
“Come on, let’s go home, eh?”
“Please.”
“You’re my family, you always will be. I’m always going to protect you (Y/N), always.”
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not today, but someday [oberyn martell x reader]
gif credit
pairing[s]: oberyn martell x female!reader
warning[s]: 18+ due to heavily implied sexual content (no actually smut), sexual references/situations, mentions of breeding (in reference to conceiving a child), swearing; talks of pregnancy & the inability to conceive; fluff; angst; oberyn being oberyn (is that a warning??); no mention of ellaria; possible inaccuracies about got (see notes)
word count: 5.4k (ummmm, whoops?)
prompt[s]: none.
summary: all you had ever wanted was a little one, a child to call your own. and yet, months later, you were still without child. still barren, and your dream of becoming a mother seemed to be slipping away.
author’s notes: okay, so, let me start off saying this -- oberyn martell has taken over my life and i have spent much time yearning over him. and, in doing so, i got this idea one day because, as we know, oberyn had eight daughters. so, i thought, what if he had a s/o who could not seem to conceive? hence, this fic. but, i have never watched an episode of got in my life. i have seen his scenes (besides, you know, that scene because in my head, oberyn is alive and well and having all the berries and orgies he wants & i just can’t handle that much violence) and i have read some articles about the show, seen the gifs/posts on tumblr, and talked to people who have watched it in the past eight+ years. but that the extent of my knowledge of got. so, i apologize in advance for any inaccuracies that this fic holds. and i hope that my characterization of oberyn is good. also, no ellaria -- i just did not feel like she fit in this in anyway possible, and i did not want to force her into the story, so to speak. well, i think that is it! so, on with the show! all mistakes are my own. comments/reblogs/likes are much appreciated. thank you! ❤️
“I am sorry, m’lady.”
You did not know what else you were expecting. You knew, deep down, that nothing had changed. You did not need the maester to tell you that you were still without child — you knew. But, Oberyn had instead you call up on them, and you were too tired to argue. You also hoped you were wrong, and Gods did you want to be wrong. But, you were not.
You plastered on a polite smile for the maester. “It’s quite alright,” you said, your voice tight as you forced your emotions down. You weren’t going to shed any tears in front of the maester; you would never give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you cry, save for your husband. You nodded your head toward the door. “That’ll be all. Good day.” The maester bowed lowly before turning on their heel and exiting, the large wooden door shutting with a resounding, empty thud.
The sound echoed in your head and heart; it seeped into your veins, and began to settle in your bones. The sound felt like a finality of sorts. An ending before anything could even begin.
A short, broken sob escaped your lips, and you quickly slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound from breaking free. However, it did not matter — the dam had broken, the heartache released. Another sob escaped, muffled by your palm as you squeezed your eyes closed, and laid down on your bed. Your body curling into itself as tears easily flowed down your cheeks, staining them. You felt as if your body was turning on you, tearing you apart at the seams as you shook violently with your cries.
For eight months now, the two of you had been actively trying for a babe, an heir for Oberyn. Not that he himself required an heir — he had eight beautiful daughters, his Sand Snakes, whom he loved dearly no matter their status. But, when the two of you had been wed over a year ago, there had been an unspoken expectation placed upon you both. Oberyn paid no mind, and told you to do the same, but that was easier said than done.
You had always wanted to be a mother, wanting to have babe upon babe running around, mucking up your home and tugging at your skirts. To watch them grow and prosper, becoming handsome young lads and beautiful young ladies, all whom would be intelligent and strong, but caring and kind. To have your legacy, no matter how small or large it would be, live on thorough them. Perhaps there was a small sense of duty, as a woman, that made you yearn to have children. But, you knew that was not the whole picture. Children were beautiful, wonderful, and loving. They were gifts, and you want to have those gifts, to cherish and love them till you were dead and buried. You wanted it, with all your heart, and yet, it seemed like fate was delivering you a cruel hand.
There had been, one fleeting moment in the very beginning of your wedded bliss, where you were positively sure you were with child. You had been so sure, so eager to see the maester; however, you had quickly been proven wrong by your own body betraying you. You’d spent the day in your chambers, unwilling to leave for any reason. Oberyn had found you curled deep in your silken sheets that evening, and try as he might with his quiet, reassuring words, he was unable to pull you from your depressive state. So, he had held you — silently, but tightly, pressing soft kisses across your shoulders, your neck, your jaw. He let his fingertips brush against your skin, tracing nonsensical patterns across your hips, your stomach, your chest, anywhere he could reach. His touches were light, and his movements were sluggish. He comforted you silently, the best way he knew how, and you allowed him to do so. It hadn’t eased the pain completely, but it had been enough.
But, slowly, the days had turned to weeks, and the weeks turned into months, and nothing changed. It did not matter that the two of you had stopped bringing others into your bed to focus solely on each other, for Oberyn to focus solely on you. Nor, did it matter how many times he filled you with his seed, or how willing and open you were to taking what he offered. It did not matter day, afternoon, or night. Nothing mattered. Because here you were, still without child. Barren.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed as the tears flowed and the sobs continued to wrack your body as you laid curled in your marriage bed. Your hand maiden had knocked on the door at one point, but you had been quick to dismiss her before she could enter and find you in your current state. She had not come back and you were grateful.
But then, finally, everything came to a standstill; the tears you had been crying seemed to dry up, and your body had stopped trembling. You took a deep, shuddering breath and unfurled yourself, allowing your limbs to stretch out across the sheets. The tears were still clinging to the corners of your eyes, but most of them had already dried and stained your cheeks and neck. You pushed yourself to sit on the side of your bed, and roughly wiped away at your face, brushing away the outward sings of your heartache. You silently wished you could easily wipe away the heartache in your chest, too. The one that had buried itself so deeply in there.
You hadn’t even noticed the door to your chambers opening, didn’t even hear a voice calling out to you. It was only when the door shut — that hollow, empty thud — that you were brought back, your head whipping toward the sound. “Oberyn,” you said, your voice soft, a breathless whisper. He wasn’t supposed to be here; from what you recalled, he was supposed to be kept busy with mundane princely duties (his words, not yours). You weren’t supposed to see him till this evening — and from the way the sun was peeking through the curtains, it could only be mid afternoon — which would have given you plenty of time to steel yourself. To gather yourself together, lock your heartache and pain away before delivering the news. To pretend that it didn’t cut into your soul, didn’t rip you apart from the inside out. “What are you—”
“I had a free moment,” he said, making his way toward you, his golden robes flowing effortless around him. There was a smile playing at his lips, which told you that he actually did not have a moment — he made a moment to come and see you.
You felt the heartache clawing at your throat, fighting to be released.
Quickly, you pushed yourself to stand, and turned away from him in a futile attempt to hide your face. He would come closer; he would see your pain, your sorrow. Because, though you had wiped away the tears and the stains they had left behind on your cheeks, your eyes were still red and puffy. The pain and heartache still lingering behind your eyes.
God, you had hoped to have more time, more time before you had to tell him. Before you had to watch the sadness and disappointment appear, filling his rich, beautiful brown eyes. You wanted more time.
A pragmatic pause. “Love,” he said, his voice sounding strained, painful. Your actions had spoken louder than words, it seemed.
You could feel a fresh set of tears springing to your eyes, your hand grasping at the dress clinging loosely to your side. You fisted the fabric tightly and closed your eyes, willing yours tears to stay put, to not fall. You heard Oberyn call out for you again, this time your birth name falling from his lips just before you felt him come closer. He hadn’t touched you, not yet, but you could feel his presence only mere inches behind you.
“Love,” Oberyn whispered once more, this time as you felt his hand wrap gently around the fist at your side, the other coming to wrap around your waist. “I am—”
“Don’t,” you breathed out, the word sounding more like a broken sob than anything coherent. You broke away from Oberyn, and thankfully, he let you go. “I cannot bare another I am sorry, especially from you, husband,” you said, your voice harsher than you had intended, angrier. Not at him, no, you could never be angry with Oberyn. No, you were angry at yourself. This was your fault; you were defective, broken, unable to provide him and yourself with the one thing you had so desperately wished for. “I have heard enough apologies to last me a lifetime.”
You felt his fingertips brush gently against your arm, the lightest of touches, barely there. A soft gesture to tell you he was there, and that he would not leave. You took a shaky breath, and loosened the grip on the fabric in your hand, letting the dress fall back against you. “There is no rush, my love,” he said, his voice soft and tentative, as if he knew he was treading rough water. And, he was.
A choked chuckle escaped your lips, and you turned to face your husband. “For you, perhaps,” you said, letting your eyes take in his appearance. He looked as handsome as ever, but he was growing older, as was the consequences of living. Over time, more grey had appeared in his hair and his beard, and a few more lines and wrinkles adorned his regal face. Even his stomach had gone a little soft (not enough for anyone besides you to notice). But, he was still the man you had met many moons ago. Still the Red Viper. Sill the man could make any woman or man fall to their knees and beg for his cock. “You, my stallion, can breed until you’re dead. The same cannot be said for myself.”
“I do not think I would call myself a stallion, my dove. Not anymore.”
You snorted, and turned away from him, letting your eyes look down at your marriage bed. You ran a hand across the silk sheets. “With the way we’ve been fucking these past few months, I’d disagree.”
You heard an amused chuckle escape his lips. “I may be able to still mount you like a stallion, but perhaps, I can no longer bred you like one.”
You looked over your shoulder at Oberyn, and raised your eyebrow. “Don’t tell me the father of eight daughters doubts his ability to breed?”
His shoulders gave a small shrug before he reached out to you, wrapping his callused hand around your wrist. Oberyn brushed the rough pad of his thumb over your pulse point. “I am not in my prime anymore, my dove. Perhaps, the fault does not lie on you.”
You looked away from him and back toward your marriage bed. You felt him take a step closer before you felt the press of his lips against your shoulder in the briefest of kisses. The hand holding your wrist slide down, his fingers intertwining with yours. “You’re taking pity on me, husband,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I would never,” he said, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. He pressed another kiss to your shoulder before his chin came to rest there, his beard tickling your skin ever so slightly. “I am merely stating a possibility,” he mumbled, the hand holding yours moving, arm shifting to wrap around your waist, hands still tangled with one another. “A truth, perhaps.”
You scoffed. “You cannot be serious, my prince.”
Oberyn hummed, and placed a soft kiss on your neck. “I am,” he mumbled into your skin. “I could deny reality, if I wished, but denying the inevitable does not change the outcome.”
“So,” you swallowed and looked down at your tangled hands that were resting on your stomach. You took a deep breath. “You do not think of me as a failure?”
Before you could blink, Oberyn had spun you around to face him. His rich, dark eyes were narrowed, but there was no anger behind his eyes. “You are not a failure, my love,” he said, his voice filled conviction. He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “Please, do not think of yourself as one.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “There are not many things women are afforded in this life, Oberyn. Many of us are not giving the promise of kingdoms, riches or lands when we are but babes,” you stated, your voice hard, irritation lacing your words. “But this, the gift to bare children, we are born with that. That is ours,” you said, your voice softening as your throat tightened and tears welled at the corner of your eyes. You closed your eyes, and feel another swipe of his callused thumb across your cheek. “I know I am worth more than my anatomy. I know that my anatomy does not define me. That this, this failure,” you said, your voice catching in your throat, “this inability to conceive, does not define me.” You swallowed, and opened your eyes, looking into Oberyn’s deep, chocolate orbs. “I know these things, Oberyn. I know them. But, it cuts me deeply, so deeply that I feel as if I am bleeding out with no way to close the wound.”
“My dove,” he said softly, his other hand coming to rest on your other cheek. He held your face gently between his hands, his features soften, and you could see a pain in his decadent eyes. A pain that was reflected in your own. “Your pain is my pain, know that. And know, there is nothing I would not give up in this world in order to give you the gift of a child,” he said, and you could tell that he meant what he said. He wanted this as much as you did, you both wished for this, silently prayed for this. And yet, barren.
You watched as he removed one of his hands from your cheek, sliding it down your neck, shoulder, down the middle of your chest, between your breasts and coming to rest on your stomach. Oberyn looked down at his hand, as did you, and spread his fingers across your stomach. “What I wouldn’t give to see you swell with our babe,” he said, and if you listened close enough, you could hear the slight hitch in his breath. You placed your hand over his on your stomach, fingers resting between his. “To see them suckle at your breast, to tug at your skirts, to wreak havoc in the halls.” He gazed back to you, and you felt a lump forming in your throat, a fresh set of tears prickling at the back of your eyes. “The sound of their cries and laughter filling the rooms. To see them as they grow and blossom.” He paused, and you could see he was choosing his words carefully. You felt a knot grow in your stomach. “But, I am starting to think—”
“Please, Oberyn,” you interrupted, your voice cracking as you closed your eyes, your fingers tightening their grip on his. “Do not say—”
“We need to take a step back, my love.”
Your eyes snapped opened. That was not exactly what you expected. You had expected him to say that you two should give up, forget the notion of ever having your own babe. Perhaps, he would even suggest an orphan child; you were not opposed to the idea, you loved children and would gladly be a mother to a child in need of one. But, you were not ready to give up the idea of having your own yet.
“A step back?” you asked, your eyes filled with confusion as you released your grasp on his hand. You were not entirely sure where your husband was going with this statement. You could not imagine that he was implying to stop fucking. Though Oberyn had aged, he still enjoyed the pleasures of sex (as did you) and the idea that he would give that up? Preposterous. “Are you suggesting we stop fucking, dear husband?”
Oberyn looked aghast at your suggestion, and it made the corner of your mouth tick up. “What a ridiculous notion, dear wife,” he said, mimicking your words back to you, his voice sounding almost betrayed that you would think such a thing. Even suggest such a thing. “Besides,” he started, voice dropping an octave in tone and pitch as he moved both hands, the one on your stomach and the one on your cheek, to come and rest on your hips once more. Oberyn’s callused fingers dipped into your hipbone and held tightly, almost too tightly. It barely phased you. “The idea that I could keep my hands, mouth and cock to myself around you is absurd,” he muttered, a wicked grin spread across his face, his dark eyes flashing with lust. It lasted only a moment before the smirk fell, and a serious look appeared upon his face. “However, if you wish to cease—”
You shook your head. “No, no,” you muttered. “I could not do that to you.”
“My love—”
“I’ve already asked too much of you by ceasing our activities with others.”
“Which,” he started softly, “I had no issue forgoing for you, my dove.” He paused and removed on have from your hip. He placed a finger under your chin and pushed up, lifting your head to make sure that your eyes caught his rich, dark orbs. “You have my body, my heart, and my soul. I love you. Whatever you need, I will comply.”
Your heart swelled in your chest. Oberyn partook in every pleasure imaginable, had never denied himself and tried almost every sexual act under the sun. And yet, here he was, willing to forgo sex for you. You knew he loved you, but this? This proved how far he would go for you, the lengths he would go to make sure you were well, that you were content. Whatever you needed, it seemed, he would gladly give it to you.
“No, Oberyn,” you started and he opened his mouth once more, but you stopped him as you placed a hand on his cheek. “I am — I have no problem continuing our sexual activities.”
You watched as Oberyn studied you, his dark eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might be hiding the truth from him. After a moment, he seemed content with what he found. He nodded and removed his finger from your chin. “Then, that is settled. But, I think, my dove we may have put too much pressure on ourselves,” he murmured, turning his head into your palm, and pressing a soft kiss to the center of it. “Not that our lovemaking is not pleasurable, it most certainly is, always,” Oberyn said, turning his gaze back to you, slipping on another mischievous smirk his let his free hand come to rest just below your breast. “But, perhaps, we’ve forgotten what it is like to be us,” he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your neck as you let your hand fall from his cheek and back to your side. “Without pressures.” Another kiss, lips moving down. “Without worries.” And, another, lower. “Only us.” His final kiss landed on your shoulder. “Return to an earlier time, when we had first laid eyes upon each other. Do you remember those days, my love?”
You nodded. You remembered those days vividly; the hours spent walking through the water gardens, talking about everything and nothing. The nights spent together, tangled in each other, exploring each other with hands, lips and teeth. Back then, all you had wanted to do was learn about the man you shared your bed — and soon, your life — with, and he had wanted the same. Oberyn still attended to his duties, as required, but every moment when he was not busy, he was with you and you were with him.
Then, when you had married, more of your time had become consumed with your own requirements and duties as well as his own. Much of your time together was spent was in the evenings, in your bed in hopes of conceiving a child.
“Perhaps, my love,” Oberyn started again, “we need to allow ourselves to enjoy each others company, get lost in each other.” A brief pause. “In and out of our bed.” You caught Oberyn’s dark orbs, and him yours. The hand on your ribs was removed, and placed instead upon your cheek. You leaned into his touch. “What do you say, my dove? We do not forgo our dream of one day having a babe of our own. We just,” he paused, for a moment, a thoughtful look in his eye, “allow ourselves not to be pressured or burdened by the notion? Return to simpler times, so to speak?”
You let your husband’s suggestion mull in your head for a moment. Perhaps, he was right; perhaps the two of you had been too focused on conceiving a child that you had, unintentionally, made sex a burden. Oberyn was not wrong; your times with him were always pleasurable and the two of you never fucked if either of you was in no mood to engage in sex. But when you did, perhaps, the burden was there, always lingering in the back of your mind. That the burden had become an unknown weight upon you, upon Oberyn. It would be nice to silence that burden for a while.
“My love?”
You blinked and focused your gaze back on Oberyn. His deep brown eyes were studying you, patiently waiting for your response. You smiled softly at him. “You are right, my prince,” you agreed, and you watched as a triumphant look filled his eyes, the corner of his lip ticking up. You narrowed your gaze slightly. “Watch that ego of yours, husband.” Oberyn chuckled lowly and moved to grasp your hips. He pulled you tight against him, a wicked smile on his face.
“Or what, dove? Hm?”
“Or,” you started, lifting arms and wrapping the loosing around his neck and shoulders, “it will get you killed one day.”
Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “Will it now? By whom?”
You held your chin up. “Me.” Oberyn laughed, the sound filling your shared chambers, and now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You doubt me, my prince?”
“I do not doubt, your strength, my love,” he said through the laughter, which slowly began to die down as the milliseconds passed. “Or your cunning wit. However, I do know that you love me too much to even harm a hair on my head.” He paused and titled his head. “Well, unless in the throes of passion, of course,” he added, another mischievous grin pulling at his lips. “Then well?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “It cannot be helped.”
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but you knew the smile pulling at your lips betrayed you. “Whatever you say, my prince,” you muttered.
Oberyn hummed thoughtfully. You had thought to say something else, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Oberyn’s lips were on yours, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. And, you willing granted him entry. His tongue slid harshly against yours, warm, wet and unyielding. A small moan escaped your lips as your arms tightened around his neck, fingers tangling into the curls at the nap of his neck. You used your hold to pull yourself even closer to him, pressing your chest against his as you slipped your thigh between his legs, pressing it against his swelling cock. A low growl escaped his throat, one that was eagerly swallowed by your lips as his grip on your hips tightened.
There was a loud knock at your chamber door.
Oberyn barely pulled away, mumbling, “ignore it,” against your lips before sliding his lips against yours again. And, you had planned to, already lost in the taste of him. However, the moment his tongue had slipped back in to your moth, there was another knock. This time, much louder.
“M’lord?” It was one of the man servants. “Are you in there?”
Oberyn groaned and pulled his lips away from yours reluctantly. “Yes,” he responded, his voice stern, but somewhat out of breath. You smiled. “But.” One of his hands travelled from you hip, up to your side, coming to rest on your breast. He kneaded the flesh, and you let out a soft mewl, heading falling back, eyes closing. “I am very, very busy. So, if you’ll ex—”
“Your presence is requested, m’lord.”
Oberyn rolled his eyes. “By whom?” he asked, but he did not bother to move toward the door to let the servant in, only lowered his head to your neck. He gave the skin at the base of your neck a quick, hard nip. You let out a small yelp of surprise mixed with pleasure as you tugged on Oberyn’s dark locks once more.
You were sure the man servant now knew exactly why Oberyn was busy — or, more accurately, whom he was busy with.
“Your brother, m’lord,” he answered, his voice tight and proper.
Oberyn growled against your skin in irritation before he nipped the skin again, this time worrying the skin for a brief moment. “Oberyn,” you whined, the sound a little louder than a whisper. Another nip in the same area. You were sure you’d have a bruise within the hour. You straightened your neck and opened your eyes. “Oberyn,” you said again, trying to quell the ever growing arousal pooling between your legs. However, his name sounded too breathless and needy on your lips. You glanced down at him the best you could, and saw his dark orbs shining with lust. Oberyn gave a sly smirk.
“M’lord?”
You knew he didn’t want to go, that he would rather lose himself in your body and pleasure. However, you knew that if he did not go now, it would only mean more time away from each other later.
“M’lord? He wishes to speak with you as soon as possible. If you could please open this door, and—”
“Go,” you whispered, ignoring the man servant’s plea, scratching at the back of Oberyn’s neck and giving him a soft smile. “The sooner you meet with him, the sooner you are back in our bed.”
Oberyn raised his head, his eyes watching you closely. The hand resting on your breast slide up and over your shoulder. His callused fingers began to play with the strap on your gown. “And you will be waiting for me?”
“Of course,” you answered, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Unless, you’d like to visit the brothel tonight?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow. “It’s been a while, my prince, and that is my fault. I know I asked you, and you willingly followed my request. But, I do not wish to hold you back anymore. If you would like to share a bed again, I am more than willing to share tonight.”
Oberyn leaned forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, but before it could go farther, he was pulling away. He grinned down at you. “Perhaps another night, my dove. Tonight, I plan to keep you.” The hand on your hip slide off and over, his hand cupping your clothed and aching center. A small whimper escaped your lips, and Oberyn’s own lips twisted into a wicked smile. “And, this pretty cunt all to myself tonight.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell, making you shiver. “Make you come undone upon my tongue for hours,” he whispered, the word sending a fresh flood of arousal between your legs.
“Oberyn—” your voice sounded choked, hoarse, needy.
“Before I finally sink into that tight little cunt.” He pulled your earlobe between his teeth, and worried the skin. You groaned, eyes falling closed as you grasped at his upper arm for support. His teeth released your lobe. “And fuck you until the sun rises.”
You bite down on your lip to stifle the moan that threatened to escape your throat. Oberyn pulled back, hand sliding from your aching center to your hip, and looked at you, that wicked grin still pulling at his lips. “Perhaps—”
“M’lord?” The man servant sounded terse, clearly annoyed that he was still standing outside the door. You glanced at Oberyn to see him roll his eyes, irritation clearly written on his face. “I am sorry, but, I believe—”
“Tell him I will be there in a moment,” Oberyn all but growled through the door at the man servant. You gently swatted at his chest, and gave him a look that silently told him to be nice. Oberyn sighed. “If you would be so kind,” he added, his voice much less demanding as he glanced over his shoulder toward the door.
“Um, I would,” the man started, “but he — he requested that I personally accompany you, Prince Oberyn.”
Oberyn rolled his eyes once more. “Of course he did,” he muttered.
You bite your lip once more, this time trying to stifle a giggle that threatened to erupt. However, it escaped — a meager sound, but a giggle nonetheless. “He knows you all too well, my prince.”
“That he does,” he muttered, and let out another heavy sigh before turning his head and attention back on you. “You’ll be fine, my dove?”
And, you knew what he was asking. He was not just asking if you would be fine while he was away, or if you would be fine for the rest of the day. No, he was asking that and more, much more. Oberyn was asking if you’d be fine from here on out with what you two had agreed upon. Would you really and truly be fine with forgoing your want for a babe? Forgoing the need you had created to conceive a child for the foreseeable future. Were you, for now, fine with only having him in your life? No children, only him, only your prince. Only your husband. Only Oberyn.
You smiled sweetly, and reached out, placing a hand upon his cheek. “Yes, my love. As long as you promise to stay by my side until one of us takes our dying breath.”
Oberyn smiled, his dark orbs shining brightly with love and adoration for you. He reached out and covered your hand on his cheek with his, squeezing your fingers gently. “Promise.”
You nodded. “Now,” you started, letting your hand slide from his cheek, his fingers still grasping at yours, “go on. Before your brother comes and hunts you down himself.”
Oberyn scoffed, and looked toward the door. “That’ll be the day,” he muttered, and you chuckled softly, shaking your head.
“Go,” you said, voice a little stern as you gently pushed at his shoulder in an attempt to move him toward the door.
Oberyn laughed softly and untangled his fingers from yours. “Fine, my dove, I am going,” he muttered, leaning down to press a soft, quick kiss to your lips. “I will see you in a few hours.” Oberyn took a step back from you, his eyes never leaving yours. He grinned and took another step back. “Make sure you’re ready for me.”
You smirked. “Do not worry about me, my prince. I will be,” you said and he grinned, all teeth and wicked before turning on his heel, and leaving your shared chambers.
The door shut behind him with a resounding thud, but this time, it did not cause you heartache. There was no finality or dread that sank into your bones. It was just the sound of a door opening and closing, as they always do.
Perhaps, you had closed the door on your dreams of having little ones. But, it wasn’t locked; you could open that door once more, when the time was right. Or, perhaps, you’d find another door, another way. However, right now, you would enjoy the idea of a closed door.
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#oberyn martell x reader#oberyn martell x you#oberyn martell imagine#oberyn martell imagines#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones imagines#my writing
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One Last Time
pairing: ai!hoseok x reader / 2.7k words
warnings: angst, talks of death and illness (fluff, superficial intelligence, fluff, long lost love, futuristic)
plot: After living a long life you get the chance of seeing your long lost love again, but to a price you are willing to pay.
A/N: hi! I'm kinda active with writing and i had this idea a few days ago so i sat my ass down and wrote this in one night. I want to clarify that this au is inspired by an episode of black mirror. This made me tear up a lil while writing so I hope you like it and you'll stay tuned for more of my works
masterlist
Life has been kind to you, a daughter, two sons and a kind husband. Nothing that you wanted or worked for hasn’t not worked out the way you wanted it to. When you were twenty five you met your husband, Jinyoung. He helped you through life and helped you take care of the kids. Even the one that wasn’t his. Jihyo wasn’t his child and yet he loved her with all the love he could give her.
Jinyoung passed away about twelve years ago due to heart failure. You felt bad that you didn’t grieve like your children did, you didn’t love him like that, you never did. He was more like a best friend than a lover. A man, who died before Jihyo was born, owned your heart and he knew that.
Jung Hoseok, that was his name. Now, even though you weren’t able to move the way you wanted to, you could feel your body move to his. He was a great dancer and he loved dancing, no matter where, no matter who saw him, he danced like no one ever could. It made you feel light, oh so light. The feeling he gave you was indescribable, not a single person ever made you feel this way again.
“Mum, wake up” you hear Jaebeom's voice. Your second oldest visits when he can. You appreciate the effort. “Mum, wake up. It’s your birthday and we want to celebrate with you.” Your eyes open slower than you want and behind droopy eyes you see the faces of your children, Jaebeom, Jihyo and Youngjae. A smile plasters itself on your wrinkly face.
“My babies, what brings you here” Youngjae rolls his eyes at you as he chuckles “It’s your birthday today. We want to celebrate with you” you gasp slightly, trying to sound surprised. Of course you know, the day you were born is the same day the love of your life left this planet. “Don’t act like you don’t know. Your brain works faster than you give it credit, Mum” Jihyo laughs. You chuckle and wave her off.
“Look, Mum. We actually wanted to tell you something” Jaebeom starts and your laugh dies right there. His tone doesn’t excite you, not in the slightest. “What, honey?” your hand finds his and he assures you with a small smile “We all know how your chances of living another year stand. The cancer has spread and your body won’t withstand it any longer.” You nod, that you are going to die, pretty soon, is nothing new. You are prepared and so are your children.
“We thought about a way to make it more comfortable” Jihyo continues and your brows furrow. You talked about hospice, and you didn’t like it. Why are they bringing this up again? “Jihyo, hun. I am not going to leave the country to die.” Youngjae shakes his head and grasps your other hand. “No, mum. We are talking about a way of you getting to live forever, in peace and without pain. You might have heard of Daydream. It’s a non profit organisation which makes it possible to transfer one's consciousness to their database and to a place called Base Line. “
Your brain is running miles as soon as he starts to talk about “base line”. You know exactly what he is talking about, he used to talk about it all the time. Hoseok liked the idea of being together in eternity. “We thought about it. Since you’re not willing to die early and we all know about your undying love for a man who died a long time ago. We were able to get you a spot in daydream. They are willing to download you and give you what you craved for all these years.”
Your mind goes into panic. How can you live forever, forever in a place that Hoseok dreamed about?. How can you spend your eternity with Jinyoung when the person you so dearly love isn’t him? “Jaebeom, honey. I can’t, you don’t know what you are talking ab-”Mum we know. We’ve known for years.” Youngjae almost whispers. Your eyes snap to his and you can see the sincerity. “What?” the whisper leaves your lips, it almost sounded like a whimper, so pathetic. “We’ve known for a long time that your love wasn’t his. Dad was never the man you loved, it was Jung Hoseok, Jihyos father.”
Your eyes fill with tears. They knew, they knew everything. Secrets you kept in the deepest depths of your mind have been discovered all these years ago. Your life was a lie, everything you lived to protect was a lie. “I-I-don’t-”Mum, it’s alright. We are not angry with you.” you start to cry. A violent yelp leaves your lips as all of the thoughts, emotions, memories flood back into your mind. The pain you feel is unbearable, it makes you double over in the comfort of your bed. Youngjae holds your shaking form, whispering comforting words.
“But h-he didn’t-”He did, mum. He was able to get a spot as a beta test person almost fifty years ago. His download was saved on their server. They opened his interview file about twenty years ago and tried to contact you. His reason for joining the program was you, mum. He wanted to find a way to stay with you for the rest of eternity. Dad kept it a secret but we want you to be happy. We want you to be free of pain and live a happy life with the person you love, with Hoseok.” Youngjae sobbs.
You can’t believe it. All these years he was merely miles away. The person who made you feel how no one else could, the love of your life was a few hours away from you.
xxxxx
The car ride is long, almost seven hours to go, but you don’t mind. While your children call their families, read their books or listen to their music you reminisce, you reminisce about the moments you spent with him. The memories you made with him come back.
“Come on, give it a shot.” you frown, the thought of embarrassing yourself further displeases you a lot. He smiled at you with his hands out for you. His brown straight hair frames his handsome features perfectly. The softness of his skin, the lightliness of his smile and his comforting smell that coats the air. Everything makes you smile back at him.
“You know i can’t dance, i much rather watch you dancing” it makes him chuckle and his head falls back with a wide smile plastered on his face. He shakes his head and comes closer, almost too close. A step closer and you are pressed against each other, even with the step in between you, you can feel him. The warmth, the comfort and the love.
“I don’t care about your dancing skills. I want you to have fun with me. How about this, you put your feet on mine and I guide you.” a grin escapes your features and he takes it as a yes as he pushes your feet over his. “Just follow my rhythm, I’m right here, i’ll always be” you nod and lean your head on his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, the way he breathes and the way he hums the melody to stay on tact.
“That’s it baby, just like that. You’re a natural, you’ll master the wedding dance in a heartbeat” your eyes find his as his sentence reaches your ears. He would want to marry you? “Wedding dance?” you whisper and he halts his movements. His searching eyes study yours, trying to find displeasure. “Well, yes. I would love to be married to you. No one else should be by your side, not that anyone is better than me” he chuckles and you can’t help but laugh as well.
No one was ever better than you.
“Go to sleep, mum. We have one more hour to go” Jihyo whispers behind you and puts you to sleep with a gentle rub on your shoulder. Once again you reminisce in memories, in more painful ones.
“Don’t you understand where i’m coming from? Why are you so blind, i can’t have a child right now” you shout. He rubs his temples with a frown. “I’m not forcing you to have a child, I just want to know if you want to ever-in the future- have a child with me.” he shouts back at you, the tone in his voice was angry, very angry.
Your eyes are wide and wet, trenched in tears as you back away. He doesn’t care though, he is too busy throwing the next mug on the floor. “Is it me? Would you have a child with someone else because I'm such a mess? Am i not responsible enough? Am I not enough?” he shouts and throws the plate to the floor. Porcelain shatters on the wooden floor with such anger. You’ve never seen him like this, ever and it scares you.
“No, why would you not be enough?” he laughs in the midst of his emotional breakdown. “Because it damn fucking looks like it. Did you already cheat on me, huh? Is that why you’re so damn quiet?” he steers and all you see is red. You almost sprint over to him, your body finds it’s way over the tiny kitchen island like it has done it a million times, it seems so easy. Your hand connects with his cheek with such speed that you are afraid you might’ve knocked some of his teeth out.
Hot tears coat your cheeks as you try to find your words “Don’t you ever accuse me of cheating on you. I know you are angry but this is low, very low.” you whisper. His angry eyes shut and he shoves you out of his way. He grabs the car keys and almost kicks the door open
“I’ll be out for a while, don’t wait for me”
You jolt awake with a loud gasp “Don’t go” you whisper through tears. Just as you see your son in front of you, you realise that it’s not this day, the day he left you. “Mum, are you alright?” Jihyo has a hand on your shoulder in concern. You quickly wipe the tears away to hide your emotional rukus. “Look, we’re here. Right there is the facility” Youngjae points at the big building up the road. “You almost made it, mum” Jihyo beems at you. Your little girl smiles at you with such compassion. It’s something only children are able to do, look at their parents with such love, with such adoration. Having to leave them behind weighs heavy on your heart.
xxxxx
“Mrs. Y/LN, here you will have some time to say goodbye and talk about whatever you might want to share with your family. After you are done we will inform you about the process of downloading and what we know about Jung Hoseok.” a young lady, not older than your daughter, informs you.
All of you sit down, a heavy silence dominates the room. No one is brave enough to say something, to say goodbye. “I love you-”Mum, you don’t have to-”No, Jihyo, i have to. I want you to know. I love you all so much, and I would stay much much longer by your side, if I could.” your hand finds Youngjae’s and a shaky breath leaves his mouth “Mum” Youngjae whispers.
“I’m sorry that I won’t see you children grow up, Youngjae. I’m sorry that i won’t see you get married, Jaebeom. And I’m mostly sorry that you will never see your father, Jihyo. Hoseok would’ve been such a good father. I’m sorry that things haven’t always worked out the way I wanted them to. But I’m honored to call you my children. I’m so proud of you, of everyone of you. You made me the happiest mother there could ever be. I love you and I hope that you’ll remember me as such. Not the weak, ill woman I was the past seven years. I want you to remember me as the woman who raised you, the woman who loved to dance, the woman who was strong. Do me a favor and remember me as such.”
Jihyo sobbs against your shoulder and you let her. In merely a few moments they won’t have a mother anymore. They’ll be without the support of a lifetime, without their lifeline. Without the person who gave them shelter and love, their mother.
“We’ll always remember you as the strongest woman there ever was, as our mother” Jaebeom whispers under tears. You smile and pet his head like you used to when he was little. “I’ll miss you” “Mrs. Y/LN, the transfer is ready” you are quick to stand up. “Go, live your life. Don’t be sad for too long. Grieve and cry but afterwards you have to live. Promise me to live” you grin in pain. With a kiss to each of their faces you leave the room.
xxxxx
The corridor to the room the woman is bringing you seems endless. The time it takes you to get to your love seems endless. But as she sits you down on a comfortable blue chair your heart calms down.
“My name is Nayeon and I’ll inform you about the process of downloading. We’ll connect your brain to our core and transfer your consciousness to one of our memory bots. Jung Hoseok, the man you so desperately want to meet again, was downloaded on an older memory bot. He was saved on a almost twenty year old bot when we found him so we had to transfer him to one of our younger bot models to guarantee a safe connection to our station “base line” and to your memory bot. The bot wasn’t damaged in the slightest. His consciousness was copied, as for yours is being transferred, meaning that your body won’t be usable after your download. Do you understand? Do you still want to proceed?”
“yes”
She puts several sensors on your head and injects a chip into your right temple for the transfer. Weirdly enough, your head is empty. You expected your head to run wild as soon as they started your transfer. “In less than two minutes you’ll go unconscious and wake up in the superficial world base line. Your bot will be securely stored and taken care of. I wish you a comfortable journey. bon voyage
xxxxx
You awake with a small groan as the bright sunlight burns itself into your skin. The gentle wind glides through your hair and slightly dries your eyes as you pry them open. You can smell the salty sea air and feel the rays of sunshine.
The bed you are lying in is big and comfortable, almost as comfortable as the bed you shared with Hoseok. Speaking of Hoseok, why isn’t he here? Isn’t he supposed to welcome you? Your feet find the floor as fast as possible as you run across the room. Just seconds before you dare to leave the room you catch a glimpse of the mirror facing the beach. You see yourself, not the almost seventy year old you, no, the twenty year old you. The firm skin, the still colored hair and the healthy looking body you once had faced you.
You breathlessly stumble towards the mirror to take a closer look and then, then you see him. You’re able to see the reflection of his back through the mirror. Your head whips around and you start to run. The pain, the love, all of the emotions you kept inside of you all of those years made you sprint, stumble towards him. “Hos-Hoseok!” you scream. You run with all of your strength, you hurry to the man you’ve missed so much. “God, Hoseok!” and the moment he turns around you halt. All of your limbs stop moving.
His golden skin, his beautiful face make you stop. You can’t believe that he is here, right here after all these years. “Ho-Hoseok” you manage to sobb. His face morphs into a smile as he opens his arms. “Come on, come to me, my love”
And you run again, you sprint into his arms. His warm body embraces you as you crash.
The weight pulling the both of you to the ground.
“I thought I lost you” you sobb as he strokes your hair.
“I promised you to find a way to stay by your side forever.”
#bts#bts au#bts jhope#bts hoseok#bts hobi#bts smut#bts angst#bts fanfic#bts jungkook#bts jin#bts rm#bts jimin#bts fluff#bts army#bts scenarios#bts suga#bts mafia au#bts hybrid fic#bts hybrid au#bts masterlist#bts series#bts taehyung#bts namjoon#bts scenario#bts yoongi#bts mafia!au#bts angst!au#bts seokjin#chimtaeoltau
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HI PUMPKIN!! For DWC, might I suggest the song "A New River" by The Oh Hellos for Blackwall & Cole?
THANK YOU BUTTON!!!! Writing this ended up being immensely comforting, and compounded my love for both of them so dearly.
CW: Depiction of self-hitting in the context of an autistic meltdown.
@dadrunkwriting
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Blackwall immediately knew he wasn’t alone in the barn when he stepped inside.
Any seasoned soldier knew when he was being watched. But it took familiarity to sense a friend who was trying to hide.
Blackwall took a deep breath and carefully pinched each one of his fingers, knowing that the spirit would already know that he knew he was here. If… he was still a spirit. He reckoned the boy didn’t rightly know what or who he was anymore.
It was that thought that made him scan the shadows for the pale figure in the corners of the barn and behind bales of hay. When he could not find Cole anywhere, he made his way up to the hayloft.
Sure enough, Cole was curled in on himself in the far, dark corner, hugging his knees to his chest and violently rocking.
Letting out a long, soft breath, Blackwall swallowed back the instinctual dread he felt every time he saw the boy — not out of annoyance or fear of any part of his nature, but because with but a simple word, the boy had the power to destroy his entire life.
He never did. And Blackwall never dared ask why.
But, it meant it was the least he could do to gently walk up to and then sit cross-legged at the boy’s side, completely silent, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes with a deep breath, taking in the smell of hay and the sweat of the horses below.
“Sweet straw underfoot…” Cole began mumbling. “Pa gave me a pony as a boy. There is something inherently childlike about horses. Innocent. Pure. Not like me. The whisper of a chisel along wood, wood shavings brushed away with calloused, gentle hands. The cook’s daughter is… always so fond of the horses…”
Blackwall opened his eyes and forced his instinctually tensed muscles to relax. “I see you are as insightful as ever.”
Cole winced. “I’m sorry. I know I unnerve you.”
Blackwall’s brow immediately pinched. “No, Cole, it’s not…” He let out a long, soft sigh, turning his head to fully focus on his face.
“Your skin is darkening,” he said quietly, gesturing towards the boy’s cheek, which was steadily growing more and more dark brown melanin from its corpselike palor with each passing day. Black streaks were beginning to appear in the boy’s hair.
“I don’t like change,” the boy whimpered, rocking harder, faster. “I don’t want to change! But I do! But when things change, I always lose everything!”
With a sharp shriek, Cole began pounding his fists on his head, wailing so loud the horses began spooking below, and Blackwall’s heart wrenched in on itself at the boy’s pain.
“Easy there, son, easy, easy,” Blackwall said softly, knowing better than to touch him when he was like this, but pushing himself up on his knees in front of the boy, using his bulk to shield him from the encroaching sunlight, like the judging eye of the outside world. “You’re all right. I’m not leaving you. Neither will the Inquisitor, either. Or Varric.”
Cole stopped hitting himself, then, and sniffled, continuing to rock back and forth.
After a long while, he squeaked, “...’S-son’?”
Blackwall winced slightly. “It’s… a word, that… older men often call younger men. Usually as a way to show affection, or… good will, or just… warmth.”
He still remembered the light that flooded his chest when his namesake called him the same. Even with all the darkness and filth and rot that coated his insides after what he’d done.
“I don’t know how to be human,” Cole whimpered, dragging in a shaking breath. “Everything is s-so… loud, all the time, and not just from the outside, but from the inside too, and I-” He let out a sob. “I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to be scared, or angry, but I-I…” A long, keening cry tore itself from the boy’s throat. “I can’t do things over if I made a mistake again,” he sobbed. “People see me. They remember me. Everything feels permanent and it all feels bad!”
Blackwall didn’t have any words for that. The words and the fears all felt too close to home.
“Would you like… a- hug?” he managed.
Cole furrowed his brow and blinked rapidly at him.
“Eyes staring up at me,” he began murmuring, “little more than boys. My responsibility. What am I if not a father to my men? We see our first battle and one breaks down crying. I hold him and he quiets. I flee the city before he hangs from the rope. I weep the night Blackwall hands me a shield with the Gray Warden insignia. He holds me and hope replaces the guilt.”
Tears silently streamed down Thomas’s face.
Cole looked up at him and sniffled. “I would like a hug,” he breathed.
Immediately, he shuffled closer and pulled the boy into as warm, firm, and secure a hug he could manage.
“Blackwall?” Cole murmured, his voice small.
“Hm?”
“If I become… become a bad person… can- c-can you promise to strike me down?”
He took a long, deep breath and closed his eyes. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you have yet to strike me down.”
A long silence passed.
Cole’s fingers curled tighter into his coat, and finally, the boy relaxed.
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RPTL 2-Elliot, The Bodyguard
Summary: Don gives Dani protective detail
Pairing: eventually Elliot x fem!OC
Warnings: abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, PTSD attacks (will add more as needed)
Word Count: 1024
This is an AU. Kathy and the kids don't exist in this story
Elliot knew by the tone of Don's voice that his captain was furious. It wasn't a mood the older man often showed, yet he could almost feel the anger from his desk across the room. Not wanting to further upset his boss, he stood quickly and made his way across the room.
Donald shut the door behind Elliot, running a hand over his bald head. "What I'm about to ask you is something very important. You're the only one I can trust with this. Do you understand?"
Confusion marred Elliot's features, but he nodded anyway. He glanced toward the couch, knowing he would find Danielle there. What he wasn't expecting to see was her curled up in a small ball, asleep, with tear streaks running down her face.
"I'm guessing this has something to do with her?" He was more than capable of putting two and two together. Especially with what Olivia had told him.
Danielle whimpered in her sleep and curled up even smaller.
Don covered her up with his jacket and took a seat. He sighed and leaned back, looking up at Elliot. "Yes. Dani is my niece. She spent more time with me than her parents growing up. She's like a daughter to me. I love her dearly and I want her protected. I need you to watch over her." He looked toward his niece. There was still a lot of anger in the way he held himself, but as he looked to the young woman laying on his couch it gave way to sadness and pain.
Not being able to protect his niece from what she had been through made his heart ache. She was like a daughter to him and he wanted to protect her from this sort of pain. No one should ever go through something like this.
Elliot raised a brow and crossed his arms, biceps flexing under his rolled up sleeves. He understood why he was being given this protection detail; his captain was giving his niece special treatment that other victims didn't receive. "I don't mind watching her, but you're going to have to give me more than that Captain." He had to know what he was protecting her from to better do his job. He couldn't do it with half the information.
"All I can tell you is that she was attacked by men that she thought she could trust. Men she worked with. Men with military training. This case isn't going to be an easy one. I fear they'll come for her again once they learn she's come to me. More than that they might pull some tactics to try and take this case from us or bury it all together.
"Alright, do we have anything to help us out with this?" He glanced down at the sleeping woman and frowned. He could see that even in her sleep she was stressed. He took in her dark hair, cheekbones, soft lips, curves, clenched jaw, and hummed. She had looks that certainly didn't come from her Uncle.
Don nodded. "That bag there has evidence. Her clothing from the day it happened. She took scrapings from under her nails and photos. She hasn't done a rape kit yet, but she's willing to. I need you to take her."
"I'll take her when she wakes up."
Danielle sat up, panting and wide eyed. Her eyes darted around everywhere. They landed on Elliot and her Uncle. She didn't know the young detective, but his stance was a friendly one. It was enough to help her calm down from her nightmare. Slowly her heart rate returned to normal. She ran a hand through her now drenched hair. Fuck, just what I needed. A nightmare for everyone to see.
"Um, sorry." She pulled her knees to her chest. "I'm guessing you're Elliot. Uncle Don said I can trust you, but…." She trailed off, fiddling with a loose thread on her pants.
Elliot knelt down in front of her. He gazed into her eyes. "I get it. Just because he says you can doesn't give you confidence." While he didn't know what she had been through and had no intent of asking at the moment he understood what an attack did to someone.
She nodded slightly. "Yeah," she mumbled. She hated feeling like this. Wondering if someone was a friend or foe. Looking around every corner to see if an attack was coming. Preparing to run if someone she believed was going to help her turned out to be just another wolf in sheep's clothing.
Growing up Donald had taught Danielle how to defend herself. She had taken Tae Kwondo as a child and kickboxing as a teen. Even though she was a doctor when she joined the Army giving her the rank of 2nd Lieutenant she had gone through hand-to-hand combat training there as well. She wasn't some weak defenseless girl. Yet, here she sat in her Uncle's office with tear stained cheeks and red rimmed eyes.
Elliot gently took her hand, not letting go even when she flinched. He wasn't trying to scare her, but she would need to learn that his touch was a friendly one and not someone out to hurt her again. "I'm going to do what I can to show you, I mean no harm."
"People tend to say one thing and then do other things." She wasn't taking a jab at him exactly. Only stating the facts as she had seen them.
He nodded. "True." He made sure to look into her eyes as he said his next words. "Actions will always speak louder than words. My record shows that I tend to get angry and a little violent with perps. However, you can ask your Uncle, it also shows that I'm good with the people who come to us for help."
She looked to Donald catching his slight nod. She brought her gaze back to Elliot. She searched his eyes. The only thing she could see was kindness and sympathy. There wasn't a hint of malicious intent. She nodded. "Okay. So what now?"
Elliot smiled. "You can call me, Elliot the bodyguard."
***
If you like my work please reblog. Likes are great, but they don't share my work. Also check out my masterlist in my bio
#law and order svu fanfiction#law and order svu au#law and order special victims unit#svu au#svu fanfiction#elliot x fem!oc#elliot stabler x fem!oc
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About that medieval fantasy AU for underdog quartet... I have ideas:
- Rory is the bastard daughter of an excommunicated princess (Lorelai). Lorelai ran away to a neighbouring kingdom to not get punished/lose Rory, and she raised Rory as a commoner (a commoner who is more literate than some great scholars in her country, yeah, but still). Christopher’s parents put a curse on her so that if she ever sets foot back in the kingdom the whole land will descend into magical chaos. The AU might start with her and Lorelai already having entered the kingdom again (Kingdom of Hartford?) and trying to find a way to break the curse and reunite with their family.
- Paris is a high ranking lady within the kingdom. She wants to take her lands to new hights and make the history books as the greatest lady they ever had, and has therefore set out on a solo journey to learn as much as she can about the kingdom and how to best run it. She’s loaded with gold, quills and self defense taught by her local knights.
- Lane is a commoner who ran away from home to join a troupe as a musician. Some outside conflict separated her from the troupe and now she’s wandering as a lone bard in search of her band of brothers or her mother’s house (whichever she finds first as she misses both dearly). She has no magic or fighting skills, but she’s good at stealth and catching gossip.
- Jess is a rogue wizard who’s never really belonged anywhere. His mother dragged him from village to village with little ability to plant roots, and eventually left him with her long lost brother before joining a travelling merchant on his route. Jess quickly left his uncle’s care and has travelled on his own, stealing to survive and sticking to himself. He’s seen the instability of sell-sword groups and criminal collectives, and frankly doesn’t trust anyone enough to share a bonfire with them.
- Approximately thirty seconds after Lorelai and Rory set foot back in the Kingdom of Hartford the curse sets in. This signals their return to both Emily and Richard and Christopher’s parents, who both send troops and notices to find and collect them. Lorelai and Rory are thus on the run across the kingdom trying to find a way to break the curse before the soldiers find (and possibly kill) them. At one point they end up in a village called Stars Hollow and seek refuge in Luke’s tavern. But they are spotted by a group of soldiers hired by Emily and Richard, and Lorelai gets caught but manages to help Rory escape. They assumed that the soldiers were from Chris’ side of the family, as their soldiers are more prevalent and up front.
- Like I said both sets of grandparents seek out the Lorelais, but in slightly different ways for very different reasons. The Haydens want to imprison the Lorelais and possibly execute Rory for the crime of cursing the land (a curse that they made but that’s not relevant!). They’re the ones who make wanted posters and dispatch troops all over the land. Rumours and legends spread about the bastard princess who has cursed the kingdom with her return. Emily and Richard, on the other hand, want their daughter back (partly because they do love her and partly because she’s their only heir) and want to find a less violent way to break the curse. They don’t announce their hunt for the Lorelais out of fear of starting conflict with the Haydens, but dispatch undercover groups and sellswords to find and bring back the long lost princesses.
- Alone and afraid, Rory returns to Luke’s tavern and hides there for a while. One day both Paris and Lane make their way to the tavern — Paris in schedule for her educational roadtrip, Lane finally finding her home village and preparing to reunite with her mother. They end up talking and bickering downstairs while a shadowy figure sneaks by them and up to Luke’s quarters. Jess was just supposed to steal some food and pay in gold he found in a dead dragon’s den, but instead he finds a blue eyed stranger. Rory thinks she’s caught and runs downstairs. Jess is curious and follows, breaking his stealth from Luke. Rory crashes into Paris who starts interrogating Luke about the tavern being a secret whorehouse, and the five are descending into verbal chaos before Rory spots Hayden guards and hides behind the cupboards. Lane picks up on the danger and makes an impromptu distraction with Paris while Jess sneaks her out the back. Once outside he asks Rory what’s going on, and he’s soon followed by Paris and Lane. Rory brings up a cover about being cursed by someone and the soldiers hunting her in relation to said curse. The other three buy the story and decide to join her on a quest to cure her.
- It honestly takes so little time before Rory breaks and explains that she isn’t cursed but rather is the curse. Paris is angry at the lie, but little else changes but the motivation to help Rory. Jess goes from «I’m bored and directionless» to «I really like this girl and could finally do something that matters». Lane goes from «I’m procrastinating on facing my mother» to «I’m helping my new friend and have a new chance at adventure (and still procrastinating on my mother)». Paris goes from «This could be relevant for my future occupation» to «This could be even more relevant to my future occupation, also I have a friend now».
- Paris gives Rory the cover of one of her stewardesses, but most of the time the four travel by foot or bought horses as unknowns. Jess does scouting and trap laying for threats while the girls alternate on getting food.
- When it comes to gathering information, Lane and Paris are the best at gathering intel from other people - Lane through gossip and Paris through interrogation. Jess is great at breaking and entering and stealing important texts for research, and him and Rory are the best at deciphering the texts (much to Paris’ frustration).
- The key to breaking the curse could be something like “when substance stronger than blood is spilled for the unworthy”. Rory actually gets found by Emily and Richard before they can break the curse and there is a short period where the four are separated and Rory thinks maybe the lands will have to live with the curse unless she sacrifices herself. Then Lane overhears a plot to assassinate her and warns Jess and Paris. The three storm in just in time to warn king Richard and queen Emily, but the accusation of two commoners and a lady against the royal Haydens is obviously considered a crime. They declare to strip Paris of her title and are about to execute Jess and Lane when Rory steps in and stops the axe. She gets deep cuts in her hands and bleeds. It is revealed that her choosing to spill her own blood - which becomes the symbolic substance of her love for them - for commoners (who royals deem “unworthy”) is what breaks the curse.
- So the happy ending: Paris gets her title back and she, Jess and Lane are pronounced heroes of the kingdom. The Haydens apologize for the curse and get no consequences because that would mean a war declaration and oh boy do we not have time for that. Rory is legitimized and becomes next in line after her mother.
- Lane gets the title of “royal bard” and returns to Stars Hollow to finally face her mother. Mrs Kim must admit that she is proud of her daughter but has most of all missed her, and after the mandatory bickering the two reconcile. She has also reunited with the troupe at some point before the climax, and they are now a full troupe with tight connections to the crown.
- In addition to her title and hero-status, Paris gets a place in court. She makes mentors of the king’s advisers and now works to become a royal adviser to both Lorelais.
- Jess is offered knighthood but declines. He tells Rory that he needs to go on a journey of his own and leaves. He returns to Stars Hollow and Luke, and gives Luke a whole chest of gold and the title to Lord of Stars Hollow (courtesy of princess Lorelai). He goes dark for some months, then appears at night in the castle on Rory’s window-ledge. They talk for hours until the sun rises and then agree to make Jess an official scout for the kingdom, travelling around and figuring out the magic and creatures of the land.
- Rory’s first move after the reunification of her family is to get to know her estranged relatives and upgrade her education through the royal masters. After Jess returns she convinces her mother and grandparents to let her join Jess as an ambassador for the kingdom. She uses Paris’ argument of wanting to truly know the country she is supposed to rule one day, and the whole band gets back together for new quests.
#I haven't even gotten to the details of the actual main quest#nor how Jess' magic works and what his magic means to him and the others#for f*ck's sake I need to stop before I start imagining other GG characters in this AU#like Miss Patty and Babette as gossiping wenches that Lane gets info from#and Kirk as the village fool who shows up everywhere at the weirdest moments#Tristan the shitty knight that Jess has robbed multiple times#Hep Alien as the Lane's troupe and how they would work#Taylor as a fief-holder who treats Stars Hollow like his kingdom until Luke gets the deeds#at which point he doubles down and Luke just fights with him instead of throwing him in the dungeon#okay no now I need to stop#my aus#underdog quartet#rory x lane x jess x paris#lowkey literati#gilmore girls#gilmore girls au#fanfic idea#medieval fantasy au
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Was Kyoko a good mom?
Absolutely.
What the manga does with Kyoko and her image is a wonderful deconstruction. At first we met her as an almost angelic figure through Tohru's eyes: kind, brave, selfless, warm. Kyoko is placed in such a high pedestal from the very beginning. As we later began to learn more about her thanks to Arisa, Hana and (in terrific fashion) Kyo's encounters with her we start to get a more fleshed out and human image. She stops being the perfect symbol of a mother, idealized through her daughter's deliberately tinted memories, and starts to reveal herself as a flawed human being.
Kyoko was awfully, heartbreakingly young and neglected as a teenager. Her home life was terrible and as Arisa did, she lashed out and tried to deal with the ugliness of her situation by throwing herself into a life of danger and violence.
Later she meets Katsuya. And being young and vulnerable, craves his attention and insistence in seeking her out. Katsuya is the first person in her 14 years of life that reached out to her, and well we see the result of that. When he dies, Kyoko is a young, devasted widow who not only lost someone she loved dearly, but someone who besides her daughter was one of the main pillars of strenght and emotional stability in her life. Kyoko really loves Tohru, but due to how strong (and I'll say unheatlhy bc you all know what I think of that particular pair) her dependency on Katsuya's love was in her life she snaps. She falls sick, utterly depressed with the reality that the one person who accepted her and walked by her side was gone, and she was so young and dependent of him for her wellbeing. And lost in her grief and depression, she neglects Tohru.
But when she hits rock bottom, when her suicide ideations are about to bear fruit... you know what she does? Kyoko remembers she has a young daughter who loves her, who depends on her, and who she left alone. And she forces herself to stand up, dry her tears and run home to Tohru. She apologizes to Tohru, and from that point onwards does her damn best to give Tohru all the love and care she can. She busts her ass off working to put food on the table. She makes time to spend the few hours outside of working in her daughter's company. She lends her experience and sympathy to a young child who was all alone and angry at the world, making him smile. She looks after her daughter's friends, saving Arisa's life from the violent path she herself once walked. Kyoko does her damn best to give the best life she can to Tohru. She wants her to be happy and to be better than her. She died thinking about her daughter and panicking about leaving her all alone in the world.
Kyoko is a wonderful mom because yes she fucked up. But even then she realised her mistake, drew strenght from the bottom of her heart and decided to stand up and try again for the sake of her daughter, whom she loved very much.
And that, anon, is what makes her a very good mom in my opinion.
#fruits basket#fruits basket spoilers#kyoko honda#anon replies#kyoko was young and incredible brave what more can i say
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Bittersweet
Previous | Next
Summary: Link stays a moment with a friend to think about the princess and her valiant, endless fight against evil incarnate--and what she might mean to him.
Words: 2112
Warnings: questioning of faith, survivor’s guilt if you squint, let me know if there’s anything I missed, it’s kind of just super bittersweet haha
Masterlist
Please do not comment anything HWAOC related as I do not want to be spoiled! :)
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“Master Link, are you alright?”
The Rito bard meant well. He was one of the many who’d been nothing but kind and helpful towards him since the very beginning. Yet his question made Link pause the drumming of his fingers against the wooden platform and frown.
“I’m just thinking,” he decided to say as he looked up.
“Ah,” sighed the bard, who turned his gaze towards the vast expanse of Hyrule. “Yes, happens to the best of us. Would you perhaps like some company?”
Link shrugged with a gesture to the open area besides him.
“I apologize if I overwhelmed you with my song,” spoke Kass again as he took a seat. “But I suppose everything is a little overwhelming.”
“That’s generous,” Link replied simply and busied his fingers with the Sheikah Slate. He tapped through the compendium, through the photo album, through the map, just to have something to look at other than his friend. And after a moment of thought, he shuffled back from the edge of the platform. “She’d kill me herself if I dropped this.”
“Do you remember much about her?” Kass asked, ending another stretch of silence.
Link frowned again, tracing the swirling patterns with his fingers. What could he say, really?
Everything from the mossy trees to the breath that sustained life carried the Princess of Hyrule with it. There were bits of her everywhere.
She was nothing more than another ghost in the beginning—a face he couldn’t make out, a voice that called from nothing, a girl he should know but could not recall. But when he stood under the arching gate of Lanayru Promenade, with the overgrown grass scratching his boots and chilled wind from the mountain biting his nose, her face became as clear as crystal.
And suddenly, every petal of a Silent Princess carried her name, and every gust of wind echoed her voice, and every touch of the sun’s light mimicked her smile, and every Hot Footed Frog was a hypothesis, and every piece of Sheikah technology he uncovered was her passion, and every drop of rain was her grief, and every deactivated guardian was a totem of her power, and every glance towards the castle was a token of her love.
There were glimpses of her hiding a smile behind her hand. There were glimpses of her fingers brushing so softly against his that he wasn’t sure any of it was real. There were glimpses of his fingers tracing gentle lines over the shapes of her face while she slept. A kiss, light as a feather, to the inside of her wrist. A grab of her hand as they ran for safety. She was the heartbeat that kept Hyrule alive, and there were so few who knew that—but he did.
“She’s everywhere,” Link answered softly, wondering vaguely if she could see him or hear him from the confines of her prison. If she could, the wind was quiet.
Kass gave no response, but his gaze was something understanding, and he was compelled to continue speaking.
“I don’t remember everything,” he said and fiddled with the Slate again. “I don’t think I ever will. I didn’t know where to start at first. But she left me pictures and now everything reminds me of her. Sometimes she’s the only thing I know, and I don’t even know her.”
“Would you like to?” Kass asked, as if he really had a choice in the matter.
“I don’t even know if she’s alive,” Link spoke, but it wasn’t quite true. He couldn’t be certain, but a part of him simply felt that Zelda was, somehow, very much alive. It came with every warning she whispered out when the blood red moon was high in the sky. It came with every tap to the Sheikah Slate, which she once held and studied so dearly. It came with every glance towards Hyrule Castle, and each feeling of dread, of guilt that it caused. It came with every memory of her, whether she be submerged in a spring or invested in her studies. It came with the very life that filled the kingdom—the life that she’d been draining herself of for the past century.
“She is stronger than anyone gave her credit for. I would love to meet her.”
“She’s smart,” Link added, turning his gaze back to the ancient piece of technology in his hands. “Too smart. Research was her passion, and all that remains of it is with me. I hate to keep her waiting.”
“For you, Master Link, I believe she would wait however long it takes.”
If it were possible, she would. But fighting took so much that she didn’t have a forever to give. She’d served enough time.
“You said she loved me,” Link spoke at last. The words made his heart twist violently, like it wanted to wring out all of the pain.
“Loves, yes,” Kass said softly, setting a feathered wing on his shoulder. “She loves many things and many people, and she loves very deeply. I believe it was my teacher’s one mistake—her sacrifice was not solely for you. Yet one does not throw themselves into the aim of a kill without harboring a deep connection.”
Link turned his gaze towards the castle again, wondering not for the first time if perhaps he’d loved her too. He woke with nothing, with hardly a name to himself, and still he followed her. She was but an echo in a vast and darkened tomb, and still he was compelled to listen to her, to obey her, to call out to this being that filled him with such a foreign familiarity. He’d never met her—not in this Hyrule, but he craved getting her back from the thing that had separated them a century ago. And he knew that simply being a knight devoted to his kingdom didn’t sink this far. Her voice was a comfort, her face in his memories was a safety he didn’t know he’d lost, and a simple knight attendant wouldn’t dream to see her smile, rumored as warm as the sun, with his own eyes.
And faintly, he could remember the feeling of her lips on his—a moment of clarity in what must’ve been the worst birthday on record. Goddesses, what he wouldn’t do to have her back.
“Can you love someone you don’t know?” Link wondered aloud, watching the clouds move slowly over the darkening backdrop of the sky.
“There are little rules that love follows. Once you accept that, I think, then answers come easy.”
A soft sigh slipped past his lips. Kass was right of course, just as he always was, even if he didn’t know what to say to someone with a situation as twisted as his.
He knew Zelda before, had loved her before—and if the demon of destruction Calamity Ganon had become could surpass lifetimes on hatred alone, then why couldn’t love last past a century? It made him all the more anxious to end this, because only then would he know for sure. Only seeing her before him, feeling if she was truly solid, would answer his questions. And she was the only tie he had to his life over one hundred years ago.
“And if I fail? Again?” Link asked, and the weight of the Master Sword doubled, like the burden had never left his shoulders after all—because it hadn’t.
Everyone he’d met, they were all depending on him. And if he failed, then the events of a century ago would repeat. There would be no resurrection shrine this time, no sacred princess to hold the Calamity back as they waited for their hero.
“I believe our fates have been set out long before us. There’s no changing what the goddesses have in store. Whatever happens was always meant to happen, and no fault for that lies on your shoulders, Master Link.”
“Would they let their kingdom burn?” Link said, gripping the Slate so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “Would they turn their backs on us again, on Zelda, after we’ve done nothing but show them loyalty?”
“Do you believe they would?”
He turned his gaze away, because he did. They’d already done so in the years they ignored Zelda’s pleadings. They’d already done so by allowing the slaughtering of Hyrule as their princess begged and cried for those same people to be saved. They’d done so by making their goddess incarnate wonder whether or not she was meant to be who she was. And they’d done so by ripping him from her grasp, then dropping him back into existence with nothing but a body and a deep, foreign sense of grief. And maybe this anger, this blame he felt towards the goddesses was not helping them to grant him the kindness he knew he needed for this journey. They’d taken everything from him, and now they expected him to turn to them for help and grovel at their feet and beg them to save their own kingdom.
How cruel the deities could be.
“It’s alright,” Kass continued, as if he simply knew. “I think everyone doubts their faith at times. With the suffering you’ve endured, how could you not?”
“What do you think?” Link asked. “About the gods.”
For once, the bard did not have an immediate reply. He hummed as he thought, and Link took to watching the first few stars peek through the dusk. A light twinkling at the end of the darkness. The irony was not lost on him.
“I think the more time that passes, the more clouded it becomes,” the Rito said at last. “The details of the goddesses become fuzzy, and we take to retelling victories alone. I think the gods of our world are very old, and communications have dwindled even in hours like these because they, too, are tired. But I know that we will never truly understand the gods. Oh, we may have our theories, but they have existed far longer than us.”
Link wondered partially if that was true. The sword told the tale of a thousand lifetimes, with a hero’s spirit tied to each one. And with every hero, there was a daughter of Hylia to go with them.
At this point, living a century after the time he once belonged in, he absolutely felt like a god that had lived forever.
“I’m angry,” Link admitted, though he was sure he didn’t have to. “I’m angry they turned their back on us, and I’m angry for Zelda—that she’s had to fight alone for the past century after everything else she’d been through.”
“Are you also not fighting alone?” Kass asked.
“No.” His reply was immediate, coming without a second thought, because he’d never truly been alone for any of this. Even before he met his newfound friends, Zelda guided him. And he could do no more than whisper into the air and hope that it carried on the winds to her, and that she was listening. “I’m not alone.”
“Neither is she,” the bard assured. “As long as there are people who remember her, and as long as you stand with intentions to help her, she will never be alone.”
The words made his voice catch and his lip tremble, so Link ducked his head and fiddled with the gloves over his hands.
Zelda deserved the world as soon as she got out of her prison. It was time he stopped with his fears, because she was counting on him. All of Hyrule was counting on him—again. And he needed her like he’d known her his whole life.
“You'll be the first to meet her,” Link promised as he glanced to his friend. “She’ll love you.”
“It would be my honor, truly. And perhaps then I will write my own song about a boy who traversed mountains and deserts for the girl he held dear, and a girl who brought destruction to its knees for the people she loved.”
Link cracked a smile and said, “As long as I’m the first to hear it.”
“Oh, of course.”
He turned his gaze back towards the sky. The moon was just beginning to peak over the horizon, as big and white and calming as it belonged. He wondered vaguely if, wherever she was within that castle, she could see it too.
“I think I do love her,” he said softly.
“And there is no shame in that,” Kass replied. Another feathered wing was set upon his shoulder. He was grateful for the comfort. “I have faith that you will get her back for us. For you.”
“I’ll do anything.”
And he meant it.
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No Matter the Cost
Mom Toph/Young Lin fic - AO3 Link
Lin fidgeted in the wood chair uncomfortably, her hand throbbing painfully and the adrenaline from her flare of anger dissipating. She had really gotten herself into trouble this time. There was no way she was going to get out of some major consequences this time.
She felt the footsteps before she heard the voices.
“We really can’t give special treatment to any of our students. I hope you’ll understand but with our zero tolerance for violence policy I’m not sure she’ll be able to stay here.”
“Let’s hear what Lin has to say before taking any drastic measures.”
Lin looked up as her principal walked toward the office she was currently sitting outside of. Flanking right behind her was her mother looking more annoyed than anything. Lin jumped up and quickly put her hands behind her back.
“Lin, Principal Liu says you hit someone.”
Blunt and straight to the point, typical interrogation tactic.
“Yes.”
“Did they hit you first?”
“Not exactly, but-“
“What have I told you about unprovoked attacks?!”
“But-“
“No buts, Lin! You know I can’t help you if-“
“WILL YOU LISTEN TO ME!”
Lin balled her hands into fists and threw them down to her side, winching at the pain the movement caused. Toph narrowed her eyes as she “looked” at Lin. Principal Liu looked between both of them uncertainly before clearing her throat loudly.
“Uh, if we could just step inside, I think it’d be best to discuss this in private.”
She opened the door and walked in. Toph motioned dramatically for Lin to go first. Lin stomped her way in and heard her mother give a low growl of a warning. Lin could feel her own temper flaring again as she plopped down in a chair in front of the desk.
“Chief Beifong, if you’ll have a seat- or not.”
Toph had braced her arms on the back of the chair and stared blankly at the flustered principal.
“Let’s just get started. This afternoon I was summoned to the playground because your daughter apparently punched another student in the face, breaking his nose.”
She paused for a moment, seemingly expecting some sort of reaction or response from either of the Beifongs in front of her.
“Um, well… as I was saying earlier, we have a zero tolerance policy for-“
“Why did she hit him?”
“Unfortunately, Mrs. Be-“
“Chief.”
“Yes, of course. Unfortunately Chief Beifong, it doesn’t matter why-“
“Lin, why did you hit that boy?”
“Chief, there’s not-“
“You, quiet. I want to hear from my daughter.”
Principal Liu let out a huff and crossed her arms indignantly. Lin’s heartrate was leveling out as she looked to her mother.
“Some of the kids pushed Tenzin off a slide and then used their bending to trap him from going anywhere. He was the one who started it and pushed him. I tried to tell him to stop but he wouldn’t. He asked me what I was going to do to stop him and then I just…. hit him.”
Toph didn’t try very hard to hide the smirk on her face as she gazed proudly toward her daughter.
“Sounds to me like the kid had it coming. Has he been disciplined for what he did to Tenzin?”
“Given his injuries at the hands of your daughter we felt as if-“
She abruptly stopped speaking as the ground beneath her feet shifted slightly causing her to lose her balance and fall back into her chair. Toph had come around her chair and now braced herself directly on the desk, leaning in close.
“Let me know if I’ve got this right. Some punk on the playground is assaulting another student and not only does no one at this school do anything to stop it but when my kid steps up and does the job for you she’s the only one that gets punished?”
“I-I-I…”
“Let’s go, Lin, we’re leaving. If they want to expel you we’ll just find a better school for you to attend.”
Lin felt her dread start to fade as her mother defended her. Toph went to grab her hand but pain lanced up her arm and she pulled it away with a gasp. Toph seemed to figure out quickly what was wrong and the office seemed to shake harder now as she glared at her teacher.
“I’m sure you whisked that boy straight off to a healer but didn’t even think to ask Lin if she was okay?!”
“She didn’t say-“
“SHE’S NINE! IT’S NOT HER RESPONSIBILITY TO SAY ANYTHING! YOU’RE THE ONE I TRUST TO TAKE CARE OF HER WHILE SHE’S IN THIS HELLHOLE!”
Principal Liu had visibly flinched and pushed her chair back as Toph’s face grew red with anger. She took Lin by the shoulder and led her to the door. Seeming to recover slightly, her teacher started to say something else but her mother just flicked her hand and the door slammed shut behind them with enough force that the glass pane cracked.
They didn’t speak as they left the school and got in the police car that was waiting for them. One of Toph’s officers was in the driver’s seat and with one look at his Chief he didn’t say a word as they drove off.
“To the ferry, Officer.”
That meant they were going to Air Temple Island. Lin felt a bit of dread creep back in at the thought. Her Uncle Aang had always lectured them on the importance of always taking non-violent actions against even your biggest enemies. That there are always other options. She loved him dearly and the thought of disappointing him made her heart sink.
They got onto the Ferry without trouble, her mother leading them to the top part of the boat so she “could at least hear where they were going”. Lin smiled slightly as they sat. Her mother hated being on the water almost as much as she hated flying.
“Lin, your heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I said we were heading to the Ferry.”
“Sorry…”
“What has you so anxious?”
“Nothing.”
“Kid, you know I know you’re lying.”
Lin let out a long sigh, swinging her legs back and forth in her chair.
“Uncle Aang always says we shouldn’t ever use violence as an answer.”
Tears welled in her eyes and she sniffed loudly and stared at her swinging feet.
“I don’t want him to be mad at me.”
Without a word Toph knelt down in front of her, a hand on each of her knees as she kept her gaze focused on Lin’s face. She looked serious but not mean or angry.
“Listen to me, Lin. Aang has always been… well… reluctant to do what needs to be done. And sometimes the people who care about him have to step up and make those difficult choices. I imagine Tenzin is the same way.”
Lin nodded as she sniffled again.
“Lin, you know I can’t see you nodding.”
“Sorry, yes. Tenzin is just like Uncle Aang.”
“Aang and Tenzin are the very last airbenders in the whole world. They may choose to avoid violence at all costs but that’s not an ideal us Beifongs believe in. It’s our job to keep them safe, no matter the cost. We have to protect them. Do you understand that?”
Lin wiped her face as she nodded again.
“Lin… what did I say about the nodding.”
Lin laughed lightly and flung her arms around her mother’s neck almost knocking them both over. Toph kept them steady as she hugged Lin tight against her, kissing the top of her head. Lin nestled her head into the crook of her mother’s neck, whispering sincerely in her ear;
“I promise I’ll protect them.”
_____________________________________
The airships were gaining on them.
She looked to where Tenzin furiously urged Oogi to go faster, to Pema and the tiny infant in her arms, to the wide eyed children who looked at her pleadingly.
“It’s our job to keep them safe, no matter the cost.”
Lin closed her eyes for a moment before tugging on the metal cable that connected her to the nearest airship. She knew what she had to do. And she knew what the cost would be.
“Whatever happens to me, don’t turn back!”
“Lin, what are you doing?!”
She leapt from the bison without another look and pulled herself toward certain doom.
“I promise I’ll protect them.”
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williams family headcanons
this will focus largely on my HCs regarding the dynamics between different members of sarah’s family. jeremy is also there.
looooong post under the cut!
for much of her life, especially after her mother left, sarah has felt like she hasn’t had anyone to talk to or anyone who cares about her. because of this, she would often keep her feelings to herself because she didn’t think anyone would understand, and she didn’t want to bother anyone who wouldn’t care anyway. it’s this restraint that used to make her feel like lashing out and hurting people whom she knew didn’t deserve it, particularly members of her family. linda was usually exempt from this anger; sarah feels tremendously guilty for her occasional violent desires and is trying to work on them, but she appears to be clinging to the vain hope that linda might someday change her ways and the two can be at peace. even after her journey, she seems to have difficulty accepting that that “someday” might never come.
whether sarah inherited or learned her temper from linda is up for debate; what is known, though, is that it runs in her mother’s side of the family. when the two argued, it was often because sarah felt that linda was putting too much pressure on her or not understanding her. in the heat of the moment, linda has said things once or twice that one can’t exactly take back. sarah once justified this to herself by thinking that she provoked her mother, but she’s coming to realize that it isn’t what she thinks so much as it is what she believes she’s expected to think. either way, it hurts her deeply. in fact, sarah is so close to linda that the idea that her mother can do (and has done) anything wrong still comes as a shock to her. she’s especially inclined to forgive her mother for having been petty and nasty in the past because of linda’s affectionate (and admittedly sincere) way of trying to make up for it. sarah’s RSD is the type that makes her feel enormous relief whenever she has some sort of closure. she can spend days agonizing over the idea that someone might hate her, but the minute she’s told she’s been forgiven or even that the other person was never angry at all, she can let it go in an instant. (in fact, this is partly why she’s so kind to her friends, especially hoggle. she knows how it feels to think you’ve done something horrible and unforgivable, even if that isn’t the case—and she doesn’t want anyone to feel the same way.)
sarah likes jeremy, who is exceptionally nice to her and genuinely wants her to feel included. he does his best to be a “fun” sort of father figure, but also acknowledges that he can’t replace her own father and doesn’t try to pressure her into accepting him the way irene somewhat did when she moved in. in fact, jeremy treats sarah almost like a friend and is more lenient with her even than her own mother. he’s always standing up for her and buying things for her that he thinks she’ll like. the two also have several inside jokes that they find hilarious. in general, whenever jeremy cares about someone, he’s very keen on making it known so that they never doubt his authenticity; this is partly why linda gravitated toward him, as she felt like he was more compassionate and cooperative toward her than robert was, and they had more in common.
sarah wasn’t pressured into sharing her mother’s interest in theatre; it came naturally. though linda had some influence, most of sarah’s special interests developed largely on their own. however, sarah tends to be saddened by the fact that linda doesn’t seem to care about her interests unrelated to theatre and never really has. when it comes to anything she has no personal connection with, linda seems indifferent and unaffected no matter how excited sarah is. linda wishes she could bring herself to care more, but she simply doesn’t know how and in some cases isn’t even willing to put in the work. there are few subjects on which linda and sarah are able to have in-depth conversations; one of these is the performing arts, so whenever sarah is around linda it makes up the bulk of what she talks about. sarah desperately craves her mother’s approval, still blaming herself for linda’s departure, and often catches herself acting in ways she thinks will earn that approval even when linda isn’t around.
this is compounded by the fact that sarah has no way of knowing whether or not robert and irene are interested in her thoughts at all. if they are, they certainly don’t show it. on most occasions that they do show intrigue, sarah has some difficulty not interpreting it as them judging or interrogating her. in other instances, she’s simply gotten frustrated and given up trying to communicate with them because she doesn’t feel like they understand or listen. irene in particular wishes she was closer with sarah; however, the two have very little in common. irene has difficulty expressing warmth toward others’ children and doesn’t exactly know how to foster a good bond with them, aside from disciplining them and following the rules she’s read about in her parenting/self-help books. her collection of these books is enormous; many are under the impression that, because of it, she fancies herself an expert. irene tends to be a bit literal and persnickety with rules. she would like to foster emotional and mental health in both her son and her stepdaughter, in addition to raising them to be upstanding citizens; however, she doesn’t quite know how to do the former and is kind of learning as she goes along. though she has difficulty expressing it, she’s fiercely protective of sarah and would like to shield her from anything that might hurt her.
linda and robert separated partly because they had very different ideas on how to raise sarah. while they both had relatively equal expectations for her, they wanted her to pursue different fields; robert sought to push her in the direction of something more conventional while linda wanted sarah to pursue her dreams in the arts—so long as they aligned with linda’s dreams, as well. however, this was just the tip of the iceberg. in reality, the arguments that eventually led to their divorce (sarah was 10 at the time) began when each parent felt that the other’s career wasn’t supporting them as much as they would have liked. linda and robert had lost the spark in their relationship over time; they simply didn’t connect with one another. the phrase “you’re not the person i married,” or a variation of it, was said often on both sides. when the environment in the williams household became too stressful to her, and robert grew too obstinate, linda decided that she was leaving; this happened after she met jeremy, who understood her in a way that she felt robert never had. the realization that linda was forming a relationship behind his back was, for robert, the straw that broke the camel’s back. i think that when it comes to the relationship between sarah’s parents, the song “moral of the story” by ashe applies pretty well. like, really well.
linda’s love language is giving and receiving gifts. she sometimes sends presents and letters to keep in touch with sarah; over the years, though, the influx of gifts has declined for reasons sarah doesn’t understand. linda is usually just too busy or too forgetful to bother; it’s often jeremy who sends gifts in her stead and apologizes on her behalf. furthermore, it’s made sarah uncomfortable how linda always seemed to expect something back whenever she gave a gift or did a favor for as long as she can remember. sarah considers herself lucky that linda sometimes finds the time to send her mail without having to be reminded. because linda can’t be there to physically provide sarah with affection, she instead appears to use gifts as substitutes. in fact, she’s almost always used material objects to convey the things she couldn’t figure out how to communicate otherwise.
part of what makes sarah feel so angry is, ironically enough, the feeling that she isn’t allowed to be angry. when she gets upset, she wants to mouth off or yell, throw things or hit someone; because all of those things will get her into trouble, and she has some difficulty handling her emotions, she has no idea what she’s supposed to do to not be upset anymore. all she feels like she can do is wait for it to go away—which is not only something that she rarely manages to do, but also something that makes things far worse in the long run.
overall, sarah has a complicated relationship with her mother. on the one hand, the two are very close with one another. linda loves sarah dearly and is immensely proud of her; in spite of all her flaws, she seems to be coming to the realization that she should try and be a better mother even if it’s from a distance, and that just because sarah isn’t physically with her anymore doesn’t make the two any less related. on the other hand, though, linda has quite a few selfish tendencies she hasn’t matured past; her love for sarah doesn’t stop her from using her as a pawn to stroke her own ego. she also isn’t afraid to lash out at her own daughter for bruising said ego, intentionally or otherwise. the only reason she initially considered doing better was because she didn’t want sarah to stop talking to her entirely, though she’s begun considering the principle of it all. it would be interesting to juxtapose linda’s selfishness with sarah’s at the beginning of the film, with the implication that linda is the way she is today because she never got what she needed in the past and/or made the conscious choice to put herself before other people—but sarah doesn’t have to be the same. in fact, throughout her arc it’s proven that she won’t be the same—not only because her journey provides her with courage and her friends provide her with support she may not have and otherwise, but because she chose actively to be a kinder person out of compassion and not because she feared repercussions.
sarah’s insistence that linda has never done anything wrong ever is almost certainly denial. logically, sarah knows that some of linda’s actions have been wrong; that doesn’t stop her, however, from scrambling for a million different ways to justify it. part of this can also be attributed to what sarah feels is an unspoken rule that forbids her from being angry, especially toward the people whom she loves and who love her most; she wants to say that linda has hurt her on several occasions, but doesn’t know how to communicate it and is afraid of setting off some sort of nightmarish consequence. as such, she settles for trying to rationalize it when no amount of explanation can make it okay.
linda is also fiercely protective of sarah and doesn’t want her falling in with the wrong crowd by any means. it does sadden her that sarah doesn’t have many friends (at least to her knowledge), and she’s always encouraging sarah to put herself out there; however, a small, wicked part of linda has wondered if it would be better if she just had sarah all to herself.
sarah has felt ever since the divorce that, to her father, she’s more of an inconvenience he has to “deal with” than his actual daughter. of course, robert doesn’t see her that way; but he doesn’t know how to communicate with her or connect with her, as much as he’d like to, which results in a wall between them. despite this, she does know that he loves her and is doing her best. as bad as it makes her feel, she explains it to herself by saying that she sometimes wishes his best was better.
i personally interpret sarah putting away linda’s pictures at the end of the film as her realizing that there’s someone else who has no power over her: her mother. granted, sarah doesn’t destroy the pictures because she still loves linda and hopes she gets better as a person. but the fact that she puts them somewhere safe can be thought of as symbolizing how she isn’t going to let linda manipulate her anymore and it isn’t her responsibility to help her get better—let alone be her personal echo chamber. sarah has decided, in my opinion, to keep a reasonable distance from linda (to the extent where “i can talk to you, but you can’t hurt me”) until she can be certain that linda has changed. in particular, sarah feels safest interacting with her mother when jeremy is present, as jeremy isn’t afraid to come to her defense and has made linda reconsider her behavior on several occasions. i also think it could be interesting to contrast maria’s fierce and unconditional love and linda’s genuine, but often self-serving and distanced love toward her own child.
sarah remembers her family being happy before things went downhill and still finds it difficult to grasp the fact that it wasn’t her fault in some way. when her family tells her that, she doesn’t think they’re telling the truth. when her classmates tell her it wasn’t her fault, she feels like they just don’t understand.
robert feels like he didn’t pay enough attention to linda’s needs back when the two were married, and he thinks that’s most likely the reason she left. to make up for what he perceives as his neglect of his ex-wife, he does his best to make irene feel like a queen.
i think of sarah and toby when i listen to “evelyn evelyn.” i’m not sure exactly why, but it would make a good comic or animation someday.
i also made picrews!
post-canon!sarah - in this one, she’s about 16. i always loved the idea of her just deciding to cut her own hair one day and her parents being shocked about it. shorter hair is also especially conducive to speedrunning the labyrinth every other week
link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/1272810
adult!sarah - my headcanon is that she was a stage actress for a while and later went on to have a film role, but eventually decided that the life of an actress wasn’t for her and settled down to become a college drama professor. once she cut her hair as a teenager, she never went back. her family was frustrated by it until she got older and they mellowed out about it because they realized there was really nothing they could do
links (in order): https://picrew.me/image_maker/457566 and https://picrew.me/image_maker/696219
adult!toby - i don’t know why, but i feel like he’d be really into alt fashion. like i think sarah would introduce him to her punk and hair metal vinyls one day and he’d just latch onto those and never let go. i also think that he didn’t leave the labyrinth unchanged, and sarah does her best to help him readjust and cope with it all; i’m tempted to also headcanon him as ND, so it’s possible that she’d be able to relate to him a lot in the future and that would make things easier for him
link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/696219
sarah and toby! i think they’d get along really well as toby was growing up, with sarah telling him these wonderful stories and playing fantastical games with him and whatnot. she’d have some of influence on his taste in music and books, too, i think, as explained above. but because of the whole “evelyn evelyn” thing i’m considering incorporating some degree of angst into their relationship when they’re adults. i do have an idea, but i’m not quite ready to spoil it yet! i’ll wait until i manage to draw At Least One Thing for it!
link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/399481
#labyrinth#labyrinth headcanon#sarah williams#toby williams#robert williams#irene williams#linda williams#picrew#long post#angst headcanon
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find your way (back to me) - chapter fifteen
Finally, here we are! I’m so sorry that I left y’all on a cliffhanger for such a long time but I needed to be in the proper mood to capture the tone of the last scene in this chapter. All we have left after this is the epilogue!! Hope y’all enjoy!
Malcolm doesn’t remember the last time a gunshot was so loud. It takes away all of the sound in the room like a vacuum had opened up in the center stealing one of his most vital senses. Only his own screaming remained, raw and bloody from the pieces of his heart still left in his chest. He can taste the copper through the cloth where the blood had sprayed his face.
He can’t bring himself to open his eyes. Not when he knows what he will see. His mother will be lying on the cement, too still. All of the color he has in his life fading with her skin tone. Bright and lively eyes will stare blankly up at the sheets of metal, denied the last opportunity to see the sky that she loves so dearly. The one person who refused to leave his side even when he was ungrateful ripped away violently. All she ever wanted was for them to be happy, she pushed herself to make sure they were.
Oh god, how will he tell Ainsley.
His shoulders wrack with sobs and he rocks back and forth trying to gather the little control he has left to open his eyes and face reality.
Someone grabs him by the shoulders roughly and every ounce of anger explodes out of him. He thrashes around using every part of his body that isn’t tethered to the chair to knock the person off their balance. It works and he hears the person crash but they’re immediately replaced by another.
This one wraps their arms around him, a hand holding the back of his neck with manicured nails digging into his skin. The grip forces his head into a shoulder where his face is buried into a smooth silk blouse. But it’s the smell that makes him stop moving, bourbon and vanilla permeates his senses and dissipates his anger.
He pulls back, eyes wide and searching for answers.
Blue eyes stare back at him, red rimmed but smiling. A relieved laugh escapes her lips while she pulls the fabric from his mouth.
“Mom?” He whispers, his voice breaking.
He takes in the scene fully, Dr. Garcia is still slumped in her chair but she’s stirring clearly still alive but not entirely aware yet. The person he knocked to the ground was Dani, a pocket knife in hand looking a little winded after being headbutted in the stomach. The killer is on the ground, a hole in the middle of his forehead likely dead before he even hit the ground.
He has so many questions. Where did Dani come from? How did she know the perfect time? Did they plan this? Where is everyone else?
Those questions matter so little once his arms and legs are free.
He crashes into his mom, arms wrapping around her stomach so he can bury his face in her hair. Every image that flashed through his mind haunts him as he tightens his grip on her. He almost pulls away when she groans in pain, remembering it had not nearly been long enough into her recovery for him to be holding her so tight.
However, her arms wrap around him too, keeping him just as close to her chest. Her fingers brush through his hair, her voice a comforting whisper in his ear as he breaks down in sobs.
For all he knows she could be a figment of his broken psyche. The last piece of straw that breaks the camel’s back taking what’s left of his sanity with her. He breathes the scent in, his own hands gripping the back of her shirt. If he lets go she will disappear, just another body in a morgue. Just another life taken by a killer.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The scene Gil walks in on is heartbreaking.
His gun was still drawn as he followed the screams. When they stopped he feared the worst. He rounds the corner on the scene that stops him in his tracks.
Malcolm clings to Jessica, both of them standing grasping the other as if they are the last connection to this world. They don’t even notice the new presence in the room. Too busy assuring themselves that they are, in fact, still alive.
It’s Dani who sees him first, checking in on Dr. Garcia who was slowly coming to before coming over to him. Her face gives away everything, her panic that had been building since she got off the phone with him to the relief that she got him in time. She opens her mouth, ready to deliver the report of what happened to him in detail.
He doesn’t let her.
Gil grabs her wrapping Dani in a hug around her shoulders and letting out the breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding for the entire drive. If it weren’t for her, god he doesn’t even want to begin to think what would have happened to his family. If Jess had died, it would have destroyed them all. Malcolm, already fractured by his father, would be gone. Ainsley just starting to put her life back together again, stuck wandering from room to room searching for someone who isn’t there. He would lose her all over again with no chance of repair this time.
“Thank you.” He whispers to her. “Thank you for saving my family.” She swallows with a short, glassy eyed nod.
Jess must have heard him because he meets her eyes next. The moment is oddly familiar, one where they passed a look over Malcolm who was so much smaller back then. The memory feels so far as he stares at them. He’d wanted to go to them, all that time ago. Wrap the both of them tightly and protect them from every danger. Ainsley had been so small, she hardly knew the weight the two of them carried on their shoulders.
He doesn’t wait for her extended hand this time. Not when he could have lost them both in one fell swoop. He wraps his arms around them both, Malcolm startling for a second at the new presence before he settles again. Only Ainsley is missing from the embrace, no doubt once the scene is secure or once they’re all safely away she will join.
Jessica’s hand comes to rest on his own over Malcolm’s back and he presses a kiss to her hair. Thankful that the nightmare is finally over.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Standing over a grave has always been a wretched experience for Jessica. When she lost her parents in the wreck shortly after Malcolm was born, after the 23 women were killed, after Eve. Her hatred of death loomed in her very presence.
Still she attended every funeral. She funded every single one without a single moment of hesitation. Tommy Moore and Andrew Rankin’s were on the same day. She nearly wept with relief when she met the little boy named Michael. The parents informed her that Michael had been found playing on the swings by a police officer and picked up by his mother shortly after. Adolpho’s funeral was a private affair. Only his family and her own in attendance but it was nice. It felt fitting for him.
Freddy’s was the worst, she thinks as she stares at his headstone. She had been blocked in on either side by Malcolm and Ainsley, their hands holding tightly onto her own. Dr. Garcia’s eulogy for her son was short. Broken up with sobs and moments to gather herself. She wishes, painfully, about how it should’ve been her but Gil’s hand on her shoulder stops those thoughts.
“It’s not your fault.” She startles at the voice she hadn’t heard approaching. The woman who had been plaguing her thoughts is standing on her right. The doctor’s eyes are red rimmed, tears have been shed by nearly everyone in attendance that day but especially them. “Your son told me what you did trying to save Freddy.”
“Malcolm tends to exaggerate to protect others.” She laments.
“I don’t think so.” The entire time her eyes remain ahead, never looking at Jessica. “I read about you, you know. After the surgeon got arrested. How many of those families did you take care of?” She doesn’t know how to answer that question. “And your daughter told me that you already plan on setting up a school fund for the grandson of the second victim.” Jessica shakes her head, of course her children did that. They’re both such meddlers. “You didn’t do this to him.”
“I left him behind.”
“You went to get help.” Dr. Garcia argues and Jessica’s jaw snaps shut. “Any longer in there and your infection would have spread. You can’t argue with that, I was your doctor.” She sighs in defeat at that claim. “You tried to save my son. You’re a hero.”
“Your son was the hero. He cut up his shirt to tend to my injuries. He would’ve been a great doctor. You should be proud.”
The woman’s eyes get glassy at that. Her gaze casts over to another figure staring at them. “That’s his girlfriend. I’m sorry if she says anything angry to you. Freddy was all she had.”
“That’s not true.” Jessica swallows, grabbing the other woman’s hand. “She has you.”
“I don’t know if she’ll let me take her in.”
“Give her time.” Jessica looks to her own children talking with Gil. “They come around.” Dr. Garcia smiles, a sad one that is too reminiscent of a goodbye. Her heart aches for the woman that had to outlive her child. She would do anything to make sure that Malcolm and Ainsley would live long and happy lives.
“His father will take care of him. At least until I can see them again.” Jessica’s eyes fall on the grave beside Freddy’s. Her throat closes again with the familiar panic. “Please, don’t let this man tear you apart more than he already has. That monster can’t hurt them now. He can’t hurt you now.”
Tears slide unwillingly down her cheeks as she nods.
Jessica hopes she’s right.
#prodigal son#gil arroyo x jessica whitly#jessica whitly x gil arroyo#jessica x gil#gilica#gilssica#jessica whitly#gil arroyo#malcolm bright#Ainsley Whitly#dani powell#prodigal son AU#kidnapped au#notgonnarememberthis fics#find your way (back to me)#find your way (back to me) chapter 15#fanfic#em hasn't read this one#liv has no impulse control#elena made me do it
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Bran IV
Bran IV.... I 'm beginning to appreciate Bran's chapters more this time. I hated them when I read them the first time. I thought them boring and uneventful, but now that I know all the secrets that might be hidden I'm enraptured.
Old Nan was always my favorite though, I always knew that her stories were true in the folksy, spoken tradition way.
Well. Bran's carefree childhood is over, he is angry and saddened by his situation, and he's kind of talking to himself. He says "It was just a lie..." to which Old Nan responds with "Crows are all liars, I know a story about a crow."
Hold up. Several things.
1. How does she know that Bran was talking about a specific lie he dreamt of about crows? He doesn't even mention the animal, but she knew exactly what was he referring to. Did he tell her earlier? He is quite sullen in this chapter, but he might've been talkative when he woke up, so that might be an explanation. I remember jumping up from my seat when I reached that part. Like- how does she know it's about the crow?
2. "Crows are all liars" That's a weird thing to say about your primary way of communication, lady. Oh? You were making a pointed distinction between crows and ravens? I see...
3. She knows a story about a crow. Which one? A man of the Night's Watch? Some spooky stuff happened with them- but it's not only a story. Does the crow in Old Nan's untold tale have three eyes, perchance? Whatever the case Bran did shut her off and we never heard that one.
Bran is too old for stories, he tells himself, embarking on a journey that depends on observing others' tales. Ig this is the part where he rejects the call for adventure.
Bran then proceeds to insult this poor old lady. In my opinion, she is a fascinating character. She came to Winterfell as a wet-nurse to a Bran, but which Bran even she doesn't remember. In fact, she's seen so many generations of Starks that she gets them confused with this one. That's so interesting- the things she'd seen as a wet-nurse through so many Lords of Winterfell...
Whatever the case, she is old now. Her sons died, her daughters are gone, and all she has is her distant relation Hodor.
"I know a story about a boy who didn't like stories."
Get him Old Nan.
Poor, poor Rickon. If Bran has Hodor and Old Nan, then baby Rickon didn't have anyone. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he renounced his Stark identity.
Anyway. She tells him what happened during the first Long Night. I suspect she's some kind of greenseer, possibly an escaped wildling- or maybe she was stolen by a northener and brought as a wet-nurse. She pretty much tells us all we know of the Long Night, before the Rhoynish, the Andals and the First Men (or during that time). A child of the forest or two definitely told he about this one.
She tells it like so. Men were already on the continent when the Long Winter came, a hero of that period- the Last Hero- went out to search the children of the forest. He went out with a sword and a dog.
-At this point I have to urge you all to read into Lucifer means Lightbringer's theories, where he blends different myths from different lands to form a cohesive story before the Age of Heroes-
The man who went with a sword and a dog is Jon- or at least a reincarnation of him- or maybe a long dead greenseer's vision of him that turned into legend- he is also Azor Ahai according to some.
This is my tinfoil.
Azor Ahai attempted to craft a sword that would help him win against the darkness (darkness=ice=winter, you get it)
The first time he tempered in water, and it broke. Water might be a sea serpent, and AA himself might be the Grey King who killed it, thus tempering his sword into "water", he also fought against the Stormgod (snowstorms?), and maybe the Long Night as well as the Last Hero. His blade shattered and his wolf died, while ice spiders and other creatures descended on him.
Old Nan's story got interrupted before we learned of his fate. So that's essentially 2 times where gurm had blue-balled us.
Take into account that myths change, they are rephrased, darkness turns into winter, meteorites into swords. Maybe the Grey King wasn't actually a king and that's another separate myth that joined the AA one together with the mermaid, maybe AA and the GK never existed and they were a passed down interpretation of some dreamer's future vision of the real AA. Maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.
Whatever the case. If my theory is true then there were/are 3 different reincarnations of AA, all of them tried to fight an ancient evil, and they all attempted to create swords in different ways to combat the evil. Two had to fail, one will succeed... Hopefully. So next time, someone has to kill a lion (maybe a Lannister, who knows) and a woman they love dearly (Rhaegar killing Lyanna? it doesn't necessarily make R+L=J true. Rhaegar can be wrong about one more thing too, as a treat.). I have notes on that too, but that's for later.
Tyrion comes. Smack cam, seconds before disaster, gone wrong, gone violent, might die.
Also not Theon roasting others about their names. Boy oh boy.
Blegh. Tyrion talked too much, and Robb was too angry for his own good- also the guy that's reading the book placed some well timed voice cracks as Robb talked- priceless. 100/10 content.
Also... hmmm where does Tyrion's black eye come from? Literally everyone in his family has green eyes and his parents were cousins. It's not purple- purple eyes in disguise are described as shades of blue- his is black implying a dark brown.
Shaggydog growls at Rickon. Which I do believe that it's a leftover of the "Tyrion did actually try to kill Bran" plot thread. Ghost didn't have any problems with him and Jon loves Bran as much as the rest of them. Maybe it's Rickon's youth.
Whatever the case, Winter Town is a very interesting idea, both becasue it's unusual and perhaps because of it's possible history. The Starks had an incentive to keep their peasants protected during the winters... I wonder why.
Bran dreams. I believe the crow is pushing him away from the idea of the horse, which gives him some modicum of freedom. There is also the idea of not remembering the Broken Tower out of fear.
Also in his dreams he sees gargoyles with red eyes. Idk what that means. Red eyes have always been spooky, and Bloodraven has 1 red eye not two sooooo.... Idk maybe it's future Jon through Ghost's eyes, or Bloodraven when he still had two eyes, or maybe a former greenseer- Jojen? Idk.
Finally, Bran suddenly blurts out for no reason that the children of the forest will take care of his uncle.
#testing rereads asoiaf#asoiaf chapter by chapter analysis#asoiaf reread#bran iv#azor ahai#the last hero#grey king#asoiaf#bran
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I Love You, Gypsy Eyes Chapter 1: Welcome Back to Birmingham
My eyes hurt. My brain hurts. “Jesus Christ, Polly I think…no scratch that, I know that Arthur has mucked up the books again.” I walk back into the betting den still staring confused and frustrated at the mess of numbers in front of me. I am met with stillness, then I hear someone say “Liv?” I look up for a second and then back down to the books. Whoa! Wait a minute! My head snaps back up and there in front of me was someone I never thought I would see again. Michael Gray.
Polly, Esme and Finn are standing around him, all dead silent, watching at me. I take notice that there is a girl standing next to him too. A tall, slender, blonde haired woman with porcelain looking skin. She really is beautiful and glamorous with her fur coat and designer handbag that she is carrying. I look at her and “see” something off about her.
My “sight” always shows me a person’s aura. I’ve had the gift of “sight” since I was a little one. It came in handy when meeting strangers while on our travels across the land. My mother was blessed with “sight” as well. My older sister Esme, not so much. She is like Polly, she can read one’s palm, see their future. I’ve let her read my palm, but I told her not to tell me what she foresees, good or bad.
I continue to stand there, still, shell shocked almost. I really did not think I would ever see him again. It has been almost five years since he abruptly left me here in Small Heath with no word or explanation. He just disappeared off to America, never to see or hear from him again. I was so angry with him. Angry with Polly and Tommy for sending him off without telling me. Tommy refused to give me his contact information initially and I thought about making the trip over to the Americas myself to find him, but in my condition at the time it just was not possible.
My pregnancy was miserable. I was violently ill for most of it. Eventually I became very swollen and dizzy with high blood pressure. The doctor put me on bed rest for 3 months. The bedrest on top of the stress of losing Michael finally gave way and I had a breakdown.
After Aurora was born, I was not myself. I loved my beautiful baby girl, but I was just so low and numb. I could barely function, let alone take care of a newborn. Luckily, I had the Shelby family to help me through that first year. Their love and support for me and Aurora is what truly kept us both alive. I still feel an extreme amount of guilt for the way I handled everything during my pregnancy and after Aurora was born.
I was so scared when Michael left, I found out I was 12 weeks pregnant and it was my worst nightmare. I always figured we would have children sooner or later, at least until after our wedding in October that year, but the wedding never came.
Polly begged me to tell Michael that I was expecting, but we both knew I couldn’t. Yes, the family, especially Tommy, was furious that Michael had not warned Tommy about the trap Luca Changretta set up for him. The whole family felt betrayed. Not that I blame them, I did too.
Michael was ultimately safer in America. Away from the Peaky Blinders life and I knew that. He could go to America, start over and live the life he was always meant to live. Michael being happy and safe was all that mattered to me. I loved him and I wanted what was best for him even if it hurt like hell to let him go.
After Esme and John were married, I decided to move to Birmingham with my sister to help keep her company and watch over her. I had never been without my sister before and could not imagine us being separated from one another. She initially felt guilty about me having to move to Small Heath because of her. She knew how much I loved the outdoors. How much I loved the traveler life that we had lived as children. Never knowing where we would be this time tomorrow. Just focusing on the here and now. However, I loved my sister dearly and ended up following her to Birmingham. Initially, there definitely was an adjustment period, but the Shelby’s had made the transition much easier. Especially once Michael finally came around.
I am standing there soundless, still and I am fairly sure my mouth is hanging wide open catching flies. Was this really happening? “Michael?” I gasp out finally. I had only dreamed of this every night before I went to sleep for years, but something feels off. The aura I am seeing doesn’t seem right. Looking at Esme’s face confirms my suspicions.
Michael looks just as stunned and flustered as I do. His eyes wide, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. Words both escaping us and apparently everyone else in the room as well. Well great.
Finally, I can gather my thoughts, “Hi,” I say with a forced smile. Hi? Really? That is all you could come up with. “You’re here? When did you get here?” The blonde stranger speaks now, “Just now. Been traveling for 15 days to get…here.” She looks around with disgust. Who the hell is this woman?
“Hello, I’m so sorry I didn’t catch your name. I’m Liv,” I say with a sweet, but forced tone. The woman is now hanging off Michael’s arm. She arches her brow at me, then narrows her eyes. “I’m Gina. Gina Gray,” she pronounces smugly with a smirk. And just like that all of the air has been sucked out of my lungs. Great, he is married. The love of my life is married.
I feel my heart drop. I want to throw up. Tears threatening to sting my eyes. As if this day cannot get any worse. Arthur’s mucked up the books and Michael has finally returned, but with a dream trophy wife. The tension in the air is thick and everyone in the den can feel it.
Eventually, Polly goes to say something to break the silence, but all of the sudden a little voice happily exclaims, “Mummy!” A dark-curly haired, blue eyed girl comes running through the door towards me. “Mummy, look what Uncle Arthur got me!”
The little girl dances and twirls around in a beautiful, green floral dress, grinning from ear to ear. I crouch down to the little girl and embrace her, kissing the side of her head. “You look so beautiful darling. How nice of Uncle Arthur.” Arthur enters the den with a big smile on his face. He adores Aurora, even though him and Linda have their own child, Billy Shelby. I can tell Arthur has been wanting another baby for a while. A baby girl.
“Eh, Liv,” Arthur states bashfully. He knows Aurora has him wrapped around her finger. “We was just taking a walk and Rora wanted to go to the toy shop, but I told her that you wouldn’t like me buying any more toys for her. That she had enough. So Rora asked if she could get the pretty green dress in the shop window down the street that we had seen earlier instead. Everyone needs clothes right Liv?” He smiles. I could tell Arthur was a little nervous. He knows how I feel about Aurora being spoiled. It’s fine in small doses, but she has so many people that love and care for her that sometimes it is just a revolving door of gifts. I taught my daughter well didn’t I?
“She looks beautiful Arthur, really. Thank you.” I look down at Aurora, she is now grinning from ear to ear at Arthur. It warms my heart to see her loved so much by her family.
Finally, Aurora looks back over to me, points her finger in the opposite direction towards the two strangers and says questioningly, “Mummy who are they?”
#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder#michael gray#michael gray x original female character#polly gray#arthur shelby#esme shelby#john shelby#finn shelby#gina gray#tommy shelby
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