Summary: Dean has a nice conversation with his “Princesses.”
Warnings: talking about dragons and princesses and stuff (not sure if that’s a real warning but I’ll put it in case)
Word count: ~700
“Daddy, why is Uncle Sam taller than you?” a small voice asks, and it catches your attention almost immediately.
You look up at Dean and wait for his answer, wondering how he’ll try to explain this one.
“I’m not really sure, Princess,” he admits, and her little head cocks to the side in confusion. “He just is.”
“Will Sissy be taller than me?” she asks, setting down her watering can on the ground and looking over to where her younger sister was playing in some mud.
“Maybe, I’m not sure,” Dean answers, picking up the small shovel and rake she had set down earlier. “But it doesn’t matter if she is.”
“Because I’ll always be there for her,” your eldest daughter says with a nod. “Like you’re always there for Uncle Sam.”
He pauses for a second, her words making a smile grow on his lips. He looks over to you, as though trying to figure out where she would learn to say something like that, and you shake your head.
She figured it out all on her own, from watching her father interact with his brother.
“Daddy?” she asks, and he turns his attention to her once more.
“Yes, Princess?” he answers as she scoops up her watering can.
“I wanna be just like you when I grow up,” she says happily, trotting a few feet forward to water a small plant growing from the ground.
His heart constricts, and he smiles as he watches her trot forward a few more paces to water another plant.
“Why is that, Princess?” he prompts.
“Cause you plant flowers with me and have tea parties with me and cause you love Mama and Sissy a lot and because you’re so cool like Uncle Sam,” she explains, like it’s the most simple thing in the world. “And cause you love me.”
“Of course I love you,” he says in a thick voice, this conversation with his oldest daughter making his heart swell. “You’re my Princess.”
“Daddy! Wanna princess!” a smaller voice chimes, and he sees his younger daughter toddling toward him, her face, arms, torso, and legs covered in mud.
“You’re my Princess, too,” he presses a kiss to her forehead as she latches onto him. “You’re both my Princesses.”
“Mama you queen!” she chants, clapping excitedly, and he grins as mud splatters across her hot pink tutu that she had to wear to play outside.
“Yeah, Daddy! If we’re princesses, Mama has to be a queen,” his oldest proclaims, and he grins slightly.
“Is that so?” he directs the question toward you, where you lay tanning in the sun’s rays. You crack an eye open and look at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Damn right I’m a queen,” you mutter, sending him a knowing look.
“Mama queen!” your youngest chirps, and she races on chubby little feet toward you.
Dean watches as muddy handprints make their way to your clothes, a quiet groan leaving your lips at the mess.
“Daddy, I think Sissy isn’t a princess,” his oldest says, her nose crinkled slightly as she watches her younger sister. “She’s too muddy. Maybe she can be a dragon.”
“Princesses can get dirty,” he tells her, and she hums. She pauses for a moment, as though thinking about his words.
“No, Sissy is definitely not a princess,” she states once more, looking up to him sharply. “You can only have one princess and that’s me.”
“But what happened to always being there for her?” Dean asks, and she huffs as she picks up her remaining gardening tools.
“Well, I’ll always be there for her, even if she is a dragon and not a princess,” she says with ease.
“I think your Mama needs some help with the dragon, huh?” he asks, noticing how you were trying to keep your youngest entertained without getting too dirty.
“Yeah, Daddy,” she nods quickly. “You’re the knight, you have to save her from the dragon.”
“What will you do?” he asks as she gathers up her watering can and huffs.
“I’ve gotta try to turn the dragon into a princess again,” she says, and she hauls her watering can toward her sister, where she promptly dumps the water onto her sister.
And when his youngest starts to bawl at her sister’s actions, he knows that her idea of always being there for her was just slightly different than his idea of being there for Sam.
Since Molly’s almost an entire foot shorter than Sherlock, I guarantee that if they were ever dating and got into a proper fight, Molly would not hesitate to stop, leave the room, come back with a chair and stand on it before continuing to shout at Sherlock with her hands on her hips.
Request: Could you do an imagine where you’re the commander and Bellamy falls in love with you??
Word count: 1,531
(A/N: I took a different approach when writing this, so let me know what you think! Also, if you want to see a part 2, if you could shoot me a message that’d be great :) )
Y/n could remember the day the Sky People came to earth very
clearly. She and a couple of her people were on a hunting trip, trying to
gather supplies for a feast celebrating the three year anniversary of her people’s
liberation from the Ice Nation. They were corrupt and evil, and after several
months of battle, they surrendered. Three months later, Y/n and one hundred of
the former Ice Nation hiked up a mountain and to an empty field. The people
appointed Y/n as their new leader and were comically named the Free People by
The feast was on the same day they landed. The Free People all
thought it was a shooting star, but as it got closer and closer, they realized
it was something different. It landed right outside of Y/n’s land. Not knowing who
these people were, she stayed back to study them. They quickly set up
civilization, scavenged for food and water, and laughed and partied. They were
incredibly smart, but also a threat. They kicked out their own people,
banishing these newcomers to discover the dense forest by themselves.
Y/n’s people wanted to retaliate, to claim the land they all
fought so hard for. She made them wait, though. She wanted the newcomers to
feel welcome in their new home, and then attack them when they were vulnerable.
It had been two months since they came to earth, and the new
people, conveniently named the Sky People, had yet to discover the Free People’s
village. Feeling safe and comfortable, Y/n decided to go out into the forest
for some peace and quiet. The guards were reluctant to let her go, but she
insisted. While she loved being the Free People’s commander, she missed her
freedom more than anything. She couldn’t go anywhere without an escort. But she
knew these woods better than any of the guards, so she was sure she’d be fine.
There was a clearing about a mile south of the camp that she
would go to when she needed to think. It was on the bank of a wide stream, and
the grass surrounding it was so green it looked unreal. Flowers blossomed on
the stream’s edge and birds chirped lightly in the trees. The sky was overcast,
but you were just thankful it wasn’t raining yet. Y/n pulled her jacket closer
to her as a wind passed through.
She was humming a light, delicate tune and throwing rocks
into the stream, completely unaware of the people behind her. Three men from
the Sky People had followed her to the clearing. Murphy, Bellamy, and Miller
hid behind a large tree as they watched.
“There’s no way she could fight us off. Let’s just grab her
and go.” Murphy whispered. They were planning on taking her back to the camp to
question her about the Free People and surrounding groups.
“On my count…1…2…3!” Bellamy shouted. The three jumped out
into the clearing and circled Y/n before she could register what was happening.
Miller grabbed her from behind, but she kicked out, right into his knee caps.
Miller doubled over in pain as Murphy raced to tackle Y/n. They toppled to the
ground and Y/n struggled to gain dominance over him. She got on top of him and
punched his face a few times, stopping only when she heard the snap of his nose
breaking. Bellamy picked her off of Murphy and pinned her arms beneath his so
she couldn’t take a swing at him. She kicked, but he was much taller than she
“Put me down!” Y/n shouted.
“She speaks.” Murphy replied sarcastically. “I wonder what
else she has to say.”
Bellamy was much stronger than she was, and it took very
little time for him to tie her arms around her back. He tied her legs together
too, leaving just enough room for her to walk. Bellamy dragged Y/n by the hands
while Miller and Murphy trailed behind. The walk wasn’t long, but long enough
for Y/n to realize she was nowhere near her camp, which meant she was nowhere
near her people.
The Sky People’s camp was coming together nicely. They had
built a giant wall and gate that two gunmen guarded. They opened it when they
save the three men approaching. Y/n tried to hide her amazement, but couldn’t
help but notice the amazing technology. Bellamy tugged on her ropes when she
started to lag behind.
“Where’s Clarke?” Bellamy asked a guard. His voice was deep
and rough, and he spoke with authority. ‘Is
he their leader?’ Y/n thought.
“Drop ship.” The guard responded. They walked towards a
giant, metal building. It looked exactly like the ship Y/n remembered on that
day they arrived. They walked up a ramp and into a tiny room lined with weapons
and makeshift beds. The weapons they had were unlike anything Y/n had ever
seen. It was a good thing the Free People had not attacked, for the Sky
People’s weapons were much more advanced and deadly.
“Who is this?” Clarke questioned, eyeing Y/n suspiciously.
Y/n couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was, and how innocent she
seemed. But Bellamy appeared to answer to her. Was this their leader?
“Don’t know. Found her in the woods. Thought she might have
some useful information.” Murphy replied.
Clarke walked up to Y/n and continued to survey her. “Who
“I am nobody.” Y/n answered.
“Nobody huh?” Clarke took a couple steps back. “You should
just let her go.”
“Let me at least try to get some information out of her.”
Bellamy said. Clarke shrugged her shoulders and walked out of the drop ship.
Y/n was back to being alone with the three men who had captured her. She didn’t
know what she was going to do. Her guards would recognize soon that she was
missing and would come searching for her.
Bellamy shoved Y/n toward a ladder and pointed for her to
climb it. It took her a bit longer than expected due to the ropes still hanging
around her wrists and ankles. Bellamy, Murphy, and Miller followed suit.
Bellamy grabbed Y/n’s wrists, untied the rope, and wrapped her wrists in ropes
that hung on the wall. He left her feet the way they were.
“I don’t understand why you are keeping me captive. I have
done nothing.” Y/n said, looking into Bellamy’s eyes as she spoke.
“We don’t know you. And we don’t like people we don’t know.
What’s your name?” He asked as he tied the ropes tighter.
“Y/n.” She replied.
“What group are you with?”
“The Free People.” She saw no point in lying about that
“Haven’t heard of them.”
“There are lots of groups around here you don’t know about.
I understand you’ve been lucky enough to meet TriKru, yes?” Bellamy looked up
at the mention of the Grounders. Y/n continued, “They’re a strong group. Kind
too, if you don’t cross them.”
“Yeah, we already messed that one up.” Murphy smirked at
Y/n. She could already tell she wasn’t going to like him very much.
Bellamy walked over to Miller and Murphy, and took a seat on
an overturned crate. Y/n took this time to really examine him. He was tall and
muscular with dark, curly hair and olive skin. He wore a black tshirt and
jeans, and jacket like the guards had on outside.
Bellamy took this time to examine Y/n, too. She was of
average height but with strong, lean muscles. Her face was composed, and she
showed no signs of fear. Most people would be fighting back, or at least
sweating. That’s how Bellamy knew she wasn’t telling the whole truth. No one is
that composed unless they have to be.
“What do you know about us?” He asked, breaking the awkward
silence that had formed.
“That you come from the sky and that you are survivors.” Y/n
“What does that mean?” Murphy snapped.
“You all aren’t from here, and have managed to find food and
water, make shelter, and fight. You’re survivors.”
“How do you know this?” Bellamy stood up from his seated
“Your arrival didn’t exactly go unnoticed. You landed in shared
territory between my people and the TriKru. You’ve held TriKru off so far.”
“Why haven’t your people attacked?” He neared Y/n and was
almost chest to chest with her. Y/n looked into his deep brown eyes; she took
note of the pain and exhaustion in them.
“We haven’t found a need to. You haven’t retaliated against
“But if you did you would have the upper hand. I don’t
understand…” Bellamy started.
“Things aren’t always about having the upper hand. You are
newcomers, we already have the upper hand, war or not. We recently fought a war
with people who deserved it. As of right now, your people don’t deserve it.” Y/n
calmly replied. Bellamy was taken aback by this answer, by the honesty and
sincerity in her words. He blinked and opened his mouth to reply, but no words
came out. After studying her face for a minute, he turned around and headed to
the ladder hatch.
“Wanna get outta here?” Maggie asks, chuckling at Alex’s banter with their roommate, but also wanting the full attention of this adorable enby.
And it terrifies her.
Terrifies her because the only people she’s kissed have been girls in high school who took her underneath the bleachers to make out, only to tell their boyfriends later that she took advantage of them.
Terrifies her because of Eliza Wilke.
Terrifies her because of her father.
But she’s away, now.
Away, for the first time.
And Alex Danvers? This kid hanging out of their window, undercut and tank top and sleeveless vest and and flattened chest and baggy shorts all but screaming their queerness? Their braveness?
Maybe Alex Danvers won’t punish her for her desires.
But at her question, Alex almost topples out of their dorm room window.
Maggie catches them by their stomach, and they both pause at the contact. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so – “
“No, no, it’s… it’s just funny, right? Because usually when someone says ‘you wanna get outta here,’ they mean go home or something, but I am home, so you don’t mean go home, right, you mean go away from my home instead of to it, and it’s just…”
Alex putters like they’ve run out of fuel, and they shrug awkwardly. Adorably.
Maggie’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly, and she chastizes herself harshly. She barely knows Alex.
Doesn’t know them at all.
But their rambling is awkward, and it’s earnest, and earnesty isn’t something Maggie comes across a lot.
“Just what, Danvers?” she helps them out, a small smile tugging at her lips.
“It’s just funny,” Alex finishes, starting to blush, and Maggie hears Lucy sighing dramatically at Alex’s lack of chill inside the dorm.
Maggie gulps and she lowers her eyes to Alex’s lips and she looks away as soon as she realizes she’s done it.
“Your room isn’t the only home on this campus,” Maggie says, her voice low, her voice hopeful.
Alex nearly falls again, and Maggie grabs them again.
Alex opens and closes their mouth helplessly.
“But for now, wanna take a walk?” Maggie grins, hopping down from the window and retrieving her backpack and motorcycle helmet from the ground.
Alex takes nearly a full thirty seconds to stammer a yes, and somehow their rambling makes them more attractive to Maggie. More unassuming. More… earnest. More honest. More genuine.
“Uh – yes, just – uh, can you come around the front entrance? I’m sorry, I – “
“Yeah, yeah, it’s cool. Meet you in a minute. Um – nice to meet you, Lucy!” Maggie raises her voice at the end.
“Have them home by midnight, Sawyer! It’s not a huge campus, I can easily find out where you live!”
“Yes ma’am!” Maggie offers a mock salute. Even though she knows Lucy can’t see her from inside, she knows Alex can, and Alex laughs.
She decides she wants to make Alex laugh as much as she can.
“See you on the other side,” she offers up to Alex, and they nod as they scramble backwards off their windowsill, nearly falling in.
Maggie chuckles to herself once she listens to make sure Alex is okay. She slings her bag over her shoulder and sets off at a jog toward the main entrance of Alex’s dorm.
It takes Alex more than a minute or two to get there.
It occurs to Maggie that they might not come.
That Maggie asking if they wanted to go somewhere – to get outta here – might have been rude to Lucy. Might have been a turn off to Alex.
Because why would someone that attractive want to go anywhere with Maggie anyway? Why would someone that soft want to have anything to do with Maggie, anyway?
Maybe Alex had only said she could come up and sit on their window to be polite.
They seemed like they were a polite person.
Politeness was good. Nice.
Good and nice didn’t deserve Maggie Sawyer.
How could she have been so stupid? So overconfident? How could she have been so –
Her stomach backflips at the slightly breathless sound of Alex’s voice, and she turns.
“You’re a lot taller than me,” is the first thing she says, because she couldn’t really tell when they were sitting on the windowsill together. It’s the first thing she says because the shock of Alex actually standing there in front of her, eager and ready to head out… wherever… is so unbelievable.
Alex grins and straightens, puffing out their chest slightly.
“You don’t have to actually respond to that, it was a stupid comment.”
“No! It wasn’t stupid, I… um… I’m sorry I made you wait. I’m uh…” They glance around and take a deep breath, but Maggie had used their pronouns without hesitation and without any reluctance, and she still wanted to go out with them – go out? were they going out? did this count as going out? – and it feels so good to still, maybe, be wanted, and they want to talk, to share, so badly… “I’m not used to my uh… to my binder yet, it’s uh… I’m still not used to things like uh… hopping out of windows and stuff.”
Maggie grins and nods, giving Alex another once-over with her eyes. “Well, it’s good self-care: you’re not supposed to be all breathless with them on anyway, right?”
“Gonna be hard to be around you while I wear it then,” Alex blurts out softly without thinking, without considering, and Maggie’s breath hitches, and Alex’s face flushes.
“I’m sorry, that was forward, I just meant – “
“No. No, Danvers, I…” She realizes there are tears in her eyes and she’s not quite sure why. She clears her throat and she forces down a gulp. “Where do you wanna go? On campus, off? There’s this pizza joint a few blocks off the SU that I like. Do you like pizza?”
“Isn’t it kinda the law?” Alex chuckles, and starts walking.
Maggie falls into step, and after a quiet moment, Alex offers their arm out for Maggie to hold onto.
“Oh, a gentlehuman,” Maggie laughs, accepting their arm. She looks up at Alex with soft eyes. “Is there a word you prefer? Something less gendered, more?”
“Context,” Alex shrugs. “Right now?” They glance down at Maggie, at her leather jacket and tight jeans and gorgeous, gorgeous hair. “Gentleman would be just fine. I mean, unless you… you’ve only dated girls before? Not that this is a date, I mean – “
“It’s not?” Something’s dancing in Maggie’s eyes, something a lot like that confidence she’d had in her walk when she’d first gotten off her bike. But this is less affected, less defensive. This? This is happiness. This is hope.
“Is it? I mean, do you want it to be? If – I mean, I know it’s not how dates typically happen – “
“What, you mean sitting with a girl on your windowsill, getting egged on by your roommate, and then taking the girl on a walk to a pizza place off campus? That’s not your typical MO, Danvers?”
Alex laughs, and Maggie grins.
“I don’t have an… I mean, I don’t usually – we just met, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to…”
Alex shrugs, stiffening as a group of frat boys laughs their way past them. They glance down at Maggie, whose face is suddenly steel, and Alex decides they like her even more than they already did. They put their arm over her shoulder and pull her closer to their body protectively.
The boys pass, and Alex shifts their arm, unsure of what to do.
“Is that okay?”
Maggie nods with a tight throat and a throbbing heart. Alex keeps their arm around her shoulder.
“You said you’re new here. New to cities. I told you I’d look out for you. I don’t want you to… to think I want anything in return.”
“Except maybe a date,” Maggie deadpans, but she’s smiling and her dimples ease Alex’s worry.
They lapse into a surprisingly comfortable silence, taking in the campus, taking in the football game on one side of the quad, the class being held outside on the other.
“Why would you want to?” Maggie asks after a while.
“Want to what?”
“Look out for me.”
Alex shrugs again. “You don’t seem like you need it. Looking out for. But everyone should have someone. It’s lonely otherwise.”
“Yes,” Maggie says after a long moment, and her tone tells Alex she’s not responding to their comment about loneliness.
“Yes what?” they ask, furrowed brow and nervous heart.
“Yes, this is a date, Danvers,” Maggie grins, and Alex can practically hear Lucy whooping from all the way across campus, can practically hear Kara’s excited squeals when they call her later tonight.
A/N: Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy it!
The pack stood around the table, seats clearly available but they knew it would only take a moment. Scott called for an emergency pack meeting at lunch time, unfortunately you were late. “I’m sorry, but Ms Peats just wouldn’t let us leave.” You growled, taking a seat and staring up at the pack who all seemed worried.
“Hey, it’s lunch time; let’s hang out and chat. We have all day to come up with a plan.” Liam stared at you and chuckled, taking his bag off his back and sitting down next to you. The rest following. “Okay, so Ghost Riders?” You questioned, and Scott nodded.
Placing your lunch on the picnic bench, you listened in on their conversation; deciding to let them handle the plan, you were only reasonably new to the pack along with Liam, Hayden and Mason. You offered Liam a crisp from your packet, and he accepted; smiling at you. “Thanks,”
Hayden, who was sitting on the other side of Liam, coughed and started speaking to him. You rolled your eyes at how desperate she seemed, she always hated you and Liam talking, even though you both got along like a house on fire. “Liam and (Y/N) will you go and check out the library tonight?” You glanced at Liam, butterflies fleeing in your stomach and nodded. “Mason and Hayden, will you two try and find as much out about these Ghost Riders please?” Scott looked at Hayden, who didn’t seem happy.
“Can I not go with Liam?” She questioned, and Liam grimaced at her reaction. “Hayd, it’s fine.” He muttered, but she wasn’t having it. Scott shook his head, “Mason and (Y/N) are both human, they’re more vulnerable.” You smirked at Hayden before turning to Liam. “Pick me up at seven?” He asked, and you nodded. “On my bike or car?” You teased, before packing up your half eaten lunch before leaving the pack.
A/N: Drabble request for anon. Reader is talking on the phone with a friend who’s not involved with the club, and she brags about her boyfriend Jax, who overhears the conversation. I’m sorry it took so long, I hope you like it, lovely!
The night before had been hectic, getting up a few times with Abel so Jax could sleep. You’d offered to watch the baby while Jax went to the clubhouse, and after finally getting Abel to nap, you’d drifted off on the couch. Your phone had woken you up from your sleep. It was your close friend Lynnie, and for the umpteenth time that week, she’d called to ask you when she was going to meet the mysterious new boyfriend you’d acquired. You’d come to Charming from Sacramento, to meet your dad, Bobby, in turn meeting Jax. Lynnie still lived out in Sacramento, and hadn’t had time with her busy work schedule to come and visit you, but demanded updates of your life. You’d been seeing Jax for a few months now, but with him being in the Sons of Anarchy, and all the danger surrounding the club, you wanted to make sure this was a sure thing before involving anyone outside of the club that could get caught in the crosshairs of club business. “You can’t keep this a secret from me! I’m your best friend! What’s wrong with him?” Lynnie whined down the phone. “Nothing is wrong with him! It’s just complicated.” You sat up on the couch, rubbing your eyes. An interrogation was the last thing you wanted. “Has he got warts? Is he a spy and you can’t talk about him otherwise he’ll have to kill you? Does he even exist?” “LYNNIE!” You barked down the phone. You stopped dead, listening to see if you’d woken Abel. “Well at least describe him for me, I’m dying here!” Sighing heavily, you closed your eyes, leaning back into the cushions. You set the phone on speaker, resting it on your chest as you reclined back. “He’s tall, got this medium length blond hair and blue eyes-” “So he’s a sexy surfer, cowabunga dude, continue.” You didn’t correct her, the less she knew, he better. “He’s taller than me, a mechanic.” “Yeah, yeah, cool, he has a job, what are his defining qualities? And by that, I mean what’s he like in the sack?” You couldn’t help but chuckle. Lynnie was never one for beating around the bush. “He’s got a shit-eating grin that makes your legs quake and your panties drop.” “Nooooow we’re gettin’ somewhere.” Lynnie cooed down the line. You paused, thinking you heard something, but figured it was just Abel moving in the crib. “Alright, fine.” You stopped talking for a moment, unable to stop yourself recalling the last time you and Jax had sex. Gemma wanted to babysit, and you’d both jumped at the chance to have an evening alone. And then you’d jumped each other. “The sex is incredible. He’s… blessed in that department, both in size and talent.” Someone cleared their throat, and you sat upright, turning and seeing Jax leaning against the wall coming out of the hallway, that panty-dropping smile plastered on his face. Lynnie was still talking, not realising that they had an eavesdropper. “Gotta go.” You snapped the phone shut, feeling your face burn through every shade of red. “When did you get in?” “While you were napping. I went into check on Abel, then I heard you talking and thought I would see what my lady really thinks about me.” He replied. Jax pushed himself up from the wall, still grinning, walking around the couch and sitting himself next to you. “’Blessed’, huh?” You rolled your eyes at him. “Like you needed an ego inflation.” “No, no, don’t get all flustered on my behalf, darlin’. Keep going.” Jax pulled your legs over his and leaned in, running his hand up and over your thigh, leaving a trail of kisses up your neck. You groaned, enjoying the attention, when all of a sudden it stopped. “What are you doing?” You asked. “You keep going, I keep going.” Jax replied. You gave him a pointed look, and he shrugged, smirking, resting against the back of the couch. He traced circles over your leg, waiting for you to give in. You sighed, not wanting to risk him withholding sex. “Well, you’re very sweet. You always know how to make me feel safe, how to make me feel loved.” “That’s a good start, I’m definitely a sweetheart.” He mumbled as he nuzzled and kissed your neck. “Incredibly humble.” He chuckled, nipping your skin lightly. “The way you bite your lip, makes me wanna bite it too. And the way you walk around, especially when you’re not wearing a shirt… ah.” You let out a slight moan as Jax kissed the sweet spot just behind you ear, his hand cradling your cheek. “And when you’re up against me, and I can feel… every… part… Jax…” Jax had pushed you back into the couch, kissing you as you started to lose focus, both your hands wandering over each other’s bodies. You took it that you’d complimented him enough, said a silent prayer that Abel would keep sleeping before giving yourself over completely to Jax.
It’s been 5 months. 5 months since you died in your lovers arms. 5 months since.
When your body was brought onto the Castle, and shoved into a healing pod. They waited. Lance never left your side throughout that whole time, not once.
When Coran confirmed that you didn’t make it, everyone stopped. They stopped everything they did.
Pidge and Keith stopped their search because it was no use, you were dead. Searching for the one who killed you could get another member of the team slaughtered. What good would that bring?
Hunk stopped cooking only unless asked to. What was the point of cooking for fun when there wasn’t anymore around?
Shiro stopped pushing the Paladins to train as much before, they deserved a break, after what happened to you, everyone deserved a break.
Allura and Coran stopped sending the Paladins on dangerous missions. Though Coran designed new armor, one that covered all parts of the body. Thicker, safer.
Lance kept track of the days. And every year, on the anniversary of your death, he would stare at the stars and planets in the sky and cry. His tears would leave burnt skin behind as they shot down his face.
He dreams of you almost every night. Nightmare or not. He would dream of you smiling and laughing with him. He’d dream of the time you guys first met and what you’d look like at you and his future wedding. What you’d look like with your and his combined flesh and blood by your side.
He had nightmares of that day, the day he lost you. The day he invited you to join him and the others. That was the day he regretted it all.
Keith and Lance didn’t bicker as much anymore. In fact, Keith would check on Lance every night, knocking twice on his door and letting himself in, only to find Lance crying a little more than the night before. He’d sit on the bed. He wouldn’t even say anything, just sit beside him until Lance sat up and hugged him. Lance would sob, tears falling onto Keith’s shoulder, while Keith’s own tears seeped through his lashes and dropped onto Lances hair.
Keith checked on everyone now. As soon as the door to Pidges room opened he’d look at his feet. And listen to her slowly stand and walk to him, only to wrap her arms around his back and try her hardest not to grip too hard onto him.
Keith would check on Shiro and warn him to take it slow, don’t exercise too much, only for an hour or two. Shiro would nod, hug Keith, shut the door, and sign. Only to lay in bed and weep until his body shut off and he would reboot in the morning.
Lance was the one who checked on Hunk more than Keith did, Hunk was across the hall from Lance, so it didn’t require too much energy. But each time Lance opened that door, Hunk would sit up, lift his arm up and beckon Lance over to him. They’d sit beside each other, Hunk rubbing the sides of Lances arms, and listen to his cries and apologies.
Allura and Coran were the only ones who refused to cry in front of the Paladins. Staying strong was needed. Who else would stay strong if every paladin lost a part of themselves? They could barely stand without you. Luckily, they battled as though you were there, that’s only because they’ve started battling for you.
“Paladins!” Alluras voice rang through the comms. Beckoning them to see her. And when they did, they sat at the long table and ate what Hunk had cooked for them.
“You’ve been having a tough time with each other when it comes to forming Voltron. It reminds me of when you first came.” Her voice echoed through their ears. Keith was the first to speak.
“We’re sorry princess…” He mumbled, staring at his empty plate with his head down.
“Would you like to do a training exercise? Only one of course, I can’t push you too much and it’s very late.” She forced a smile, folding her hands together.
Allura got a few “Yes”’s and “Sure”’s from them. Yet she didn’t stand, that confused them of course because they thought they’d be fighting gladiators or going through mazes as they did the first.
“What’s it like?” She murmured, playing with a utensil nearby and looking solemnly at it.
“What do you mean, princess?” Shiro asked, eyebrows drawing close together as he frowned.
“What was it like when you lost her? I didn’t really know her all to well. So I genuinely wasn’t affected as much as you all were. I’m simply curious.”
“It was horrible, Allura, absolutely terrifying. I don’t ever want to go through that again. I wasn’t there when it really happened, but just that fear of seeing her….I- It was so, so scary.” Pidge spoke, her voice low and wavering.
Keith agreed, rubbing her back from beside her as he described the dread he felt. Almost everyone did.
“Lance?” Shiro tilted his head, leaning a bit toward him. His head was down.
When Lance looked up, his face showed exactly how he felt, his cheeks were clearly red as well as the areas around his eyes. A storm of tears came from them as they flickered toward Allura.
“Can you tell me more about her? I- I really didn’t know her at all. I’d like to know, very much.” She made contact with Lance once, only to look down right away as his gaze bore into her.
The others refused to answer for Allura, perhaps another time. But this was something Lance should do.
“I met her in, uhm, 3rd grade. I moved there when I was really little and I remember becoming really good friends with her.” He paused, breathing in deeply.
“Her mom, wanted her to be a doctor. She wanted to be a biologist. She studied in the medical and biology field, that’s why I brought her.” He laughed a bit, wiping away his tears as he leaned sideways in his seat.
“She left once, I remember, in 6th grade I think. She came back in 9th at the Garrison and oh my gosh she was so gorgeous. She grew, obviously, got a bit taller but she was still shorter than me, told her so too. Ugh she hated me for that.” He smiled a bit, his eyes drifting off.
“Her favorite color was Purple, then Pink. But when she came back it was (F/c). I remember getting her a bunch of balloons on her birthday in Pink only for her to tell me she didn’t like that color anymore. My mom adored her, same with everyone in my family. They thought she was the cutest most sweetest thing and I couldn’t agree because I would get a lifetime of teasing but now I regret it.” He choked out the beginning of a sob, his breathing becoming deep.
“I regret it because I should have loved her sooner, y'know? She deserved absolutely everything, everything in the whole entire universe. And the one thing I couldn’t give her was me because I was so scared and set on the fact she only liked me as a friend. And now, I regret it even more because if I hadn’t been so in love with her she wouldn’t have come with us, I was absolutely selfish. She could be safe right now! It’s all my fault!” He stood, slamming his hands onto the table. No one said anything, they only flinched.
“She could be alive, safe and sound in her home, maybe with my family probably comforting them because she was so good and nice. I have to be the one to go home and tell her mother and father that’s she dead! She’s dead and it’s all my fault because I was stupid and selfish and in love with her! I think about her…every. Single. Night. If she had lived we would be so fine, we would be absolutely happy and fine and great and I would’ve been going back to Earth with her. I could’ve married her and had kids with her and now I can’t.” His voice has risen in the beginning but dropped as quick as his heart had, he collapsed to his knees and lay his head on the table and wept.
By the end of his long rant, the room was silent. Lances cries were the loudest. He sobbed loudly like a child who didn’t get what they wanted.
The others wept as well. Coran stood behind Alluras chair, standing tall and holding it in so much but they still slipped out, he stared ahead and didn’t move a muscle.
Pidge had her face in her hands, tears peeking through the cracks of her fingers and soaking her hands. She shook with sadness.
Keith bawled, mumbles and sobs would occasionally come from him as he let all of his emotions out, letting them land in his lap, for all to see.
Shiro and Hunk cried silently, staring as their tears fell as well, Hunk wiped his away. Shiro did not, what was the point of getting rid of them if they weren’t going to stop coming?
Allura stood, going toward Lance and kneeling beside him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into the side of his neck. The others joined. In a large, large group bonding exercise.
“She sounds wonderful. She is wonderful.“ Allura murmured, her and all of their tears mending together, stitching and sewing their hearts back together. Mending the broken hearts you left behind in an attempt to save them all.
It was at another one of Gregory Patterson’s parties, that’s when I met her.
She the most disgustingly beautiful person in the room. With emphasis on the disgusting. The way she was looking at everybody like she was better than them. And she wasn’t even touching the cake Gregory made himself from scratch, despite being handed a slice by Gregory himself.
I kept my eye on her from the other side of the room. I wanted to catch her in the act of whatever she was gonna do next. But she didn’t even try hide it. Right in front of Gregory’s face, she grabbed the cake, smooshed it to crumbs and let it fall into the trash can next to her. She didn’t even bother to aim right, and some of the crumbs fell onto the floor.
I gasped, and Gregory had signs of distress on his face. He just moved back. The poor boy, his heart was broken by this witch. I was going to talk to her.
she has short dark hair and brown eyes. she's so much taller than me, and she's so soft. she listens to punk music and she writes poetry. i'm constantly thinking about kissing her. the way she tilts her head back when she laughs, the way she smiles at my dumb jokes, the way she teases me (always with affection). she makes me feel so ethereal. she calls me 'the stars' but if i'm the stars than she's the whole damn galaxy.
The stars. THE STARS. I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard anything so cute. 💕
A/N: It’s three in the morning and I have school tomorrow so this is going to be pretty shitty. Also shoutout to Sarah Rogers for being the baddest bitch out there.
You woke up suddenly, seemingly for no reason at all. You checked the time. 3:17 am. The empty space next to you in your bed revealed why you had awoken from your slumber. Steve had another nightmare.
Whenever he has nightmares, he gets out of bed and goes into the kitchen to get a snack, and sometimes into the living room to watch TV if he can’t fall back asleep.
You pressed your cold feet to the even colder wooden floors and grabbed a sweater to throw over your tank top as you made your way out of your bedroom and into the kitchen to greet Steve. He was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar with a glass of milk. He was just staring at the white liquid in the clear glass.
“Steve?” You got his attention and walked over to him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” He sounded distant and distracted, it was obvious that he was lying.
This is along a similar theme as I will Remember You, focussing on Jamie and Frank and their relationships with Bree. I really appreciate all the fantastic feed back you guys give and also, I have answered most of my prompts now so if anyone has any requests, I would be happy to write something for you whilst I continue to work on the next instalments of my larger AU’s. xx
Jamie sat down on the steps of Lallybroch and
bit into an apple. The juice ran down his chin but when he wiped it away his
fingers were dry and his left hand, when he looked at it, was whole and
unmarked by the years. He smiled slightly to himself.
a dream then.*
thought, stretching his legs out before him as he settled to wait for Claire, she always came to him in
dreams, just as she had in their years apart, and he doubted tonight would be
any different. He looked around the yard at the group of hens pecking at seeds
or grubs in the drizzling rain and wondered why it was so often raining in his
had got older he had become more aware of when he was dreaming, not so much in
the nightmares of Wentworth or Culloden unfortunately, but Jamie supposed that
was not to be helped.
rounded the corner and stepped through the gate and Jamie saw that it was not
Claire; it was a man wearing odd clothes and a wide brimmed hat that Jamie
recognised but could not place.
stranger got closer, he looked up and intelligent, dark eyes locked with
Jamie sighed and stood up. He had seen the man
in the background of a one of the square pictures Claire had brought him, which
was why he had known the hat. What the Hell did the bastard want?
stepped off of the door step and as his boot touched the ground the dusty courtyard
hardened into flagstones and they were no longer at Lallybroch but toe to toe
in a church, the church Jamie and Claire had married in.
Frank looked up at Jamie, the tilt of his neck
exaggerated to show his recognition of their difference in height, a small
smile touching the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide and contemptuous.
a big bugger, weren’t you?”
He held out his hand to shake but Jamie
couldn’t bring himself to touch the man and recoiled.
“I look a lot like him don’t I? My ancestor I
Frank asked; his voice was softer and a little
deeper than Jack’s. Jamie had not heard
it before but he felt certain that it was truly Frank Randall’s voice and the
knowledge sent goose-bumps skittering across his skin. How was he dreaming of
“Aye, but ye dinna sound like him. I’ve seen a
… photograph picture of ye, but I dinna ken how I know your voice.”
Jamie looked around for Claire but she wasn’t
there. He felt unease prickle down his spine and shivered lightly.
“Ah. You’re afraid. Is this merely a dream or
is it purgatory? Are we both waiting for the same woman?”
Frank’s smile widened and he stepped in close
to Jamie once again.
worry James, you’re not dead yet and in the morning you will wake up and no
doubt fuck our wife.”
Jamie swung his fist but where Frank had been
there was only air and the bastard was sat in the pew behind him.
“I agree; that was callous of me, oafish even,
but really? A punch? You tried to punch a ghost? You really are all brawn and
Frank was almost laughing at him and Jamie felt
heat creep into his face.
“What do ye want?”
asked, his teeth clenched and fists balled at his side
“I don’t want anything at all. You conjured me
to you, or really I suppose it must have been Brianna…”
Frank’s face softened at the mention of Brianna’s
name, the smile becoming tender and proud and Jamie released his fists. He
crossed himself and murmured a brief Hail Mary before answering.
“Aye. Brianna was tellin’ Jem about ye. I heard
“Yes. I suppose that must have been difficult
for you. Claire spared me that at least. She never mentioned you to Brianna.
Never spoke of you at all.”
Jamie felt the words slice into him but pushed
the feeling away. Spirits were not known for being kind, and Randall had less
reason than most to be kind to him, spirit or not.
“Aye, weel, ye’ve that then.”
said softly and looked away. He did not want to be here with Randall, he wanted
Claire. He allowed his eyes to roam toward the altar, thinking of Claire as she
had been their wedding day.
And then she was there before him. Wearing the
dress that Ned had procured, her cheeks flushed with the drink but her eyes
clear and locked unwaveringly with his own and he thought again how he had
never seen anything so lovely, neither before nor since. He heard Frank sigh.
“She loved you even then. Not that she had
admitted it to herself but … she did.”
startled and glanced down beside him at Frank stood at his shoulder looking in
the same direction as Jamie and clearly seeing what he was seeing.
“Don’t look so shocked. Of course I can see
voice was tight with longing and Jamie sighed.
“What do ye want Frank?”
asked again, though gently this time. The smaller man looked up at him, dislike
plain across his features.
“I truly don’t want anything from you. What do
you want from me? I didn’t choose to be here.”
Jamie thought for a moment, what did he want
from the man? Across the course of his life Jamie had regarded Frank
with jealousy for sharing Claire’s affections with him, pity for his loss of
Claire when she chose Jamie and then hatred when he had been forced to send her
back to him.
“I believe I wish to thank ye.”
words passed his lips before he knew he was going to say them and surprised
had returned to looking wistfully at the image of Claire in her wedding gown
but now the small smile returned and he cocked his head at Jamie.
“For … for keeping them safe. For loving
Brianna and raising her in my stead… she … she adored ye. You were a good
father. I wish to thank ye for it.”
“And as a husband?”
Jamie shrugged. He was dimly aware that the
church had faded around them. They were surrounded by woodland and the trees
rose above them blotting out most of the light but Jamie could sense it was
Fraser’s Ridge all the same, the home he had built from scratch with Claire by
“No. Ye were no’ a good husband. You were not
cruel but Claire says ye laid wi’ other women…”
Frank laughed, a warm, rich sound that sent
birds scattering from the trees; his head tipped back just the way Claire did.
A habit he had picked up from her? Maybe she had learned it from him? Jamie
felt jealousy stir in his gut and tried to force it away.
“I was raising a red-haired, blue-eyed child
who was taller than me by the time she was fourteen! Do you really think Claire
has cause to complain?”
Jamie smiled a little at the truth of that but
“She didna complain, but fact is fact and ye
asked me if I considered ye a good husband. I do not.”
“Fair enough. I suppose I couldn’t really hold
a candle to you could I? The warrior!”
Frank’s voice dripped with sarcasm and he
stretched his hands above his head and yawned.
“I never held it against Brianna though. That
girl was … she was the sun and the moon to me. You took Claire from me … maybe
that’s unfair… I should really say that Claire gave herself to you, but Brianna
will always be mine. You know that. Come to think of it, perhaps I am here to
thank you. After all, you gave me a child.”
Jamie felt pain like a grief swell in his chest
but more muted than grief. It was like a stubbed toe when the initial hurt
fades and is replaced with a pulsating ache that lingers for a while but is
“Maybe if she had not met Roger it would have
been different, but you gave her away again almost as soon as you found her…”
Frank continued and Jamie’s palms begin to
“Brianna is my daughter…”
“By blood, of course. There is no denying it!
Even if she was the image of Claire physically she has your temper, your
theatrical nature and let’s not forget her stubbornness! The girl is
undoubtedly your biological daughter. But that doesn’t change the fact that in
her heart, I am her father. I could tell you so many little things about her
that you will never know …”
“Enough. I will hear no more from ye on it. Ye
have said your piece and I have said mine now leave.”
Jamie’s voice was tight and a sound like
rushing water filled his ears.
“Is it me or is this just your mind filling you
in on the things you already know?”
“I ken her better than ye think.”
“Maybe, but not as well as I do.”
Frank placed a hand on Jamie’s arm and it was
disturbingly solid. Jamie tried to shake him off but he only gripped harder.
“What does she even call you? Da? Da?”
jerked upright and gulped for air as though he had been drowning. Bree knelt
beside the bed, her hand still on his arm.
“Da, it’s alright. It was a dream, whatever it
was, it was just a dream.”
Jamie ran a hand over his face to chase away
the last gossamer threads of sleep tying him to the dream and focussed his eyes
on his daughter. His chest was heaving and he had to stop himself seizing her
in an embrace. Swinging his legs out of bed he pulled the blanked over his lap
for modesty and braced his elbows on his knees.
“I’m sorry a leannan. Did I wake ye?”
“No I was up with Jemmy anyway.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“Still in the study, I think she dozed off but
I didn’t like to wake her.”
Bree sat on the edge of the bed beside him and
smiled at her father.
“Do you want to tell me about your dream?”
Jamie shook his head, sitting up straighter.
dinna need to trouble ye wi’ my foolishness.”
There was little trace of the initial
awkwardness between them but his refusal seemed to bring the remnants of it to
the surface. Bree studied her bare feet in the candlelight and whether it was
the pained look on her face or the need to prove Frank wrong, Jamie cleared his
throat and began to tell her.
truth, I was dreamin’ about your … Frank.”
whipped round to face him, eyes wide with shock. Her hand flew to her mouth and
she reached out to Jamie, catching his hand in hers.
“I’m sorry … I didn’t mean … What happened in
“Weel, he wanted to tell me how much he loved
ye, and I think to make sure I was taking care of ye.”
“Earlier, I heard ye tellin’ wee Jem about his
other grandfather and I want ye to ken that I dinna mind.”
Brianna bit her lip
wanted to tell Jemmy because …”
faltered and Jamie drew her close to him, resting his chin on her head.
“Ye dinna want him forgotten.”
Brianna relaxed into his arms and allowed her
head to rest against his shoulder.
“There is no one else to remember him. I think
it is how Mama felt about you, that feeling that someone should *know* you
existed, know who you were.”
Her voice wavered, but held strong this time
and Jamie could hear the core of defiance that ran through her words. She
didn’t want to wound him, but she wouldn’t apologise either; she was so like
Claire in that way and Jamie hoped Frank had known that too. Brianna was not
“I ken that fine a leannan, ye dinna need to
explain. He raised ye and loved ye in the unconditional way a father should –
ye are right to honour his memory.”
Jamie spoke slowly, choosing his words
“I know he isn’t – wasn’t- my real father, but
I did love him.”
said quietly, stifling a yawn and Jamie nodded, shifting her so that his arms
cradled her against him, the solid weight of her leaning against his chest a
comfort to them both.
“Love isna dependent on blood.”
Jamie smiled as he rubbed small circles between
her shoulder blades, and felt her head grow heavier on his shoulder.
“I love you Da. I really hope you know that.”
whispered and Jamie kissed her head in response, too overcome to speak. As
Brianna’s breathing grew heavier the candle flickered and danced despite the
lack of draft in the room and Jamie hoped that Frank was satisfied for one
night at least. Then again, if he had ever got the chance to see Claire and
Brianna during all the years of separation, he would have done it. If he had to
haunt every dream that Frank Randall ever had he would have done it.