#THE WAY MY WHOLE HEART SHRIVELED UP THE MOMENT I HIT THE NUMBER | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hushedhands · 3 years ago

Text

Challenge 83

@cecilia02 @everbeenminee Astra watching Andrew's coronation.

Astra Orders set an alarm for three o’clock in the morning, but she didn't need it. She didn't sleep at all.

Her mom had invited her to watch the once-in-a-generation event with her little cousins in Illéa Palace, but Astra had refused. Kile had offered to stay the night and keep her company, but that hadn't felt right either. Her dad had suggested not watching at all, which was cute but not really a solution. It would be weeks before footage of this faded from the news, and even then there would be anniversary specials forever. Astra might as well bite the bullet and watch the coronation that had almost been hers.

She wished her parents and her boyfriend weren’t making such a fuss about this. History was full of women who'd almost married princes and then gone home to watch them become kings. Her Uncle Maxon had left dozens of such women in his wake when he’d chosen to marry Aunt Ames, though Astra didn't have the telephone numbers of any of them. She wished Andrew had enough ex-girlfriends to make a proper club like the former Selected. It might have been nice to have someone who could understand this indescribable feeling without the need for words to name it.

It wasn't that she wanted to be married to Andy. She had no doubt at all that she'd made the right decision in calling off their relationship, and that was totally separate from the fact that she was now wildly in love with Kile.

But there was something aching in her chest as she watched the aerial shots of the city of London on the little television in her apartment in Angeles, curled up in her warmest fuzzy pajamas, hair in a messy version of her ballet bun, hands clinging to her mug of tea for dear life. Today was the day that standing by Andrew's side for his coronation went from something she wouldn’t do to something she couldn't do. She'd chosen to walk away, but this was the day that the door locked behind her.

Never was a hard word to give to Andrew, even if Kile had her Always.

The camera above the crowd panned past the palace Astra had stayed in that summer, and her chest squeezed hard. Whatever else had happened there, it had been a refuge for her at a time in her life when she’d needed it most.

It all started when she had been offered an incredible opportunity to dance for the Waverly ballet company in the summer, and an opportunity to attend an elite seminar with London’s royal ballet company in the spring, and Kile, realizing that he and Astra wouldn’t see each other for over six months, had broken up with her very suddenly.

Well, technically it had been a mutual decision. She hadn’t seen him much during his first year at school, and now she was off on her own adventures, and it seemed like a terrible time to try to make a relationship work. What if he met someone amazing at university? What if she met someone in Waverly or London? Was it fair to deny themselves new relationships and experiences just because they’d always been together? Weren’t they technically together by default, anyway?

It was a reasonable question. If you married someone you’d had playdates with for as long as you could remember, and you never even tried to date someone else, it was probably a relationship by default… right?

As she got on the plane for London, it had hit her hard that she wouldn’t have a hope of seeing Kile again, maybe for an entire year. The earliest she’d be back in Angeles was the next fall, and that’s exactly when he’d be leaving to go back to school again. And this time they wouldn’t talk to each other on the telephone almost every single day, and she wouldn’t slip secret notes in the care packages his parents sent him from home, and he wouldn’t surprise her by sitting in the audience during a matinee performance after sneaking back into town without telling her...

And maybe he never would again.

It was possible she’d cried the whole flight overseas, it was hard to remember. She must have rehydrated somehow, or she’d have shriveled up and died of the heartbreak. That time was all a blur now.

But what Astra remembered clearly, sitting on her sofa four years later, was the way she’d felt walking into that little old palace on the north side of the city and realizing that it was essentially hers for the season. It really paid to have a paranoid king for an uncle sometimes, because Maxon had pulled a dozen favors with the English royal family to get Astra somewhere safe and comfortable to live for a few months. She was technically an Illéan princess by title, so he wouldn’t hear of letting her rent a crumby apartment somewhere in the city, and besides, wherever she stayed needed to have enough room for a security detail. Still, even for a small palace, it was a palace and it was hers.

The old place had plenty of full-time staff that kept it in good shape as an estate of historical significance to the English monarchy, but Astra herself didn’t have maids or butlers, or a chef to keep her fed. At night, everyone who worked to keep the palace maintained went home, so it was only her and the security detail.

But she was allowed to order takeout from restaurants around town, so on her very first night alone she ordered enough food to live off of for a while, until she could get to a grocery store. She sprawled on a sofa in the downstairs sitting room, doodling in the notebook her Aunt May had given her for her last birthday, until there was a surprise knock on the archway in the entrance of the sitting room.

“Hello.” Andrew stood there, still in his business suit from the day, though with no tie, and with the top button undone. He looked ruffled, and in his hands he carried a large bottle of red wine. “Sorry to barge in… there isn’t exactly a doorbell in this place, and without staff to handle arrivals and departures… well, I did knock.” he awkwardly concluded.

Astra, still in her tank top and stretchy pants from the plane, would have felt severely underdressed to received a prince at a palace, except this was one of her oldest and best friends, and some of the ache in her heart from leaving Kile on the other side of the world eased away just from looking at him. She hugged him, “You don’t need to knock. It’s good to see you.”

“And you.” he hugged her back. “Ah, and here. A housewarming gift.” he offered her the wine.

“You’re just in time for dinner.”

“Am I?”

“It should be here soon. The finest spicy noodles and sautéed vegetables in the land. Although, if there’s no doorbell…”

“The guard at the gate will take it from the delivery driver and have someone bring it in.” he grinned.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go hunt down something to open that bottle.” she said.

A new city, a change of scenery, some delicious New Asian food, a bottle of old wine, a dear old friend… this was the recipe to get over a breakup. Astra knew it, because she already felt worlds better, just struggling to find a way into the wine bottle. There wasn’t a corkscrew in the kitchens that they could find, and this palace didn’t have its own wine cellar, which was the only other place they could think to find wine accessories. In the end, Andrew took an impressive, ancient sword off of a display rack on a wall at the top of the grand staircase and carefully poked the sharp end down until it was lodged into the cork.

Astra laughed so hard her sides hurt as she twisted the bottle out in front of her and Andrew slowly stepped backward. After a couple of tries, the cork loosened up enough that he could use brute force to pull the rest of it out.

When the food arrived, they carried it up to the top floor, to a balcony that overlooked the city, and they had a picnic of sorts.

“Where’s Lucas? You two are usually a package set.” Astra asked between bites of spicy noodles.

“Still finishing up his first year at university.”

“Oh, of course! Kile— “ She stopped abruptly, her chest squeezed tightly, her tongue fell heavy in her mouth, and she drowned the bitter taste of his name on her lips with expensive wine.

“Oh dear. That won’t do.” Andrew leant over and brushed away an errant tear from her cheek. “You mean to tell me… well, he’s safe isn’t he? He’s not unwell?”

“No, no he’s fine. He’s at school… and I’m here.”

Andrew studied her face carefully. He’d met Kile and Astra on the same day, at the same moment, so they’d been friends for exactly the same amount of time. He knew that they’d been together romantically for almost seven years now, the teenage equivalent of a sixty-year marriage. “So you’re… taking time apart?”

“We’ve decided to go our separate ways.” Astra said, the words soft and wispy in her throat. “We’re not… we’re not headed in the same direction anymore. We might never head in the same direction again. After university, he wants to see the world. And I… I might travel around for a while as a dancer, but I can’t imagine not being there for Addy once she becomes Queen… Even if that wasn’t true, we won’t have a good chance to be in the same city for at least a year… and a lot can happen in a year.”

Andrew took a large sip from his glass and then refilled hers.

“That’s really difficult, Astra… I’m so sorry. I know how much you love each other. It must be hell, knowing that you’re growing apart from the person you’re closest to in the world.”

Astra choked a sob in her wineglass and Andrew’s eyes widened, “God, I’m sorry! What a terrible thing to say—“ he sat both of their glasses safely aside and wrapped her in a warm hug.

Astra got his suit all wet from her tears, but she felt comfortable in his arms. “I’m not crying because of you, stupid.” She explained when she had the breath to do so. “It’s definitely because of him. I just… I didn’t think anyone would understand. But you do.”

“I don’t.” Andy rushed to correct her. “Not really. I’ve never experienced anything like that. The closest I can imagine is if… if I lost touch with someone in the Palace kid gang. You’re my best friends, apart from Luke, and I’ve known you forever. If I had to say goodbye to one of you, to lose you forever… it’s not even close to what you’re feeling, but just the thought hurts enough for me to know that you’re going through hell.”

Astra sniffled and collected her wineglass again, ready for more sips, content to allow herself to be comforted by her friend. “Hell has better wine than I expected, I’ll give it that much.”

“Not a bad view, either.” Andrew agreed with a small chuckle, looking out at the city.

“Didn’t expect one of my very best friends to come with me to hell.” Astra timidly admitted.

“And I’m not leaving until I get you out of it.” he’d promised.

Andrew always did have words as sweet as honey.

They drank the whole bottle that night, between the two of them. They had as good an excuse as two teenagers needed: they couldn’t find a wine stopper. Andrew offered to stay the night with her so that she wouldn’t be alone, but now that the world was blurry and warm from the wine, Astra felt delightfully sleepy. She was going to get her first good night’s sleep since losing Kile. So Andrew left, promising to bring breakfast the next morning to check on her.

He checked on her a lot.

He brought her breakfast and dinner every day, and he’d probably have brought her lunch too, except that she was always at her dance seminar during the daytime. Astra ended every night with her body pleasantly tired from dancing, a new half a bottle of wine in her stomach, and her mind full of whatever nice, easy conversation she’d had with Andrew just before bed. Her first week in England flew by.

That Friday night, Andrew appeared in the doorway to the sitting room right on schedule, two bottles of wine in hand.

“You’re mad.” Astra giggled.

“It’s the weekend.” he argued. “You don’t have to dance tomorrow, and I don’t have any public appearances to make until next Tuesday.”

“You’re off work until Tuesday? You English royals really know how to take it easy.” she laughed. She didn’t think her cousins had taken a three day weekend in their lives.

“We’ll keep the second bottle on standby, just in case we decide we want to try it.”

But of course, they were young and it was a Friday night, they definitely wanted to try it. Somewhere after the first glass of the second bottle, refilling glasses got too risky and they started drinking straight from the bottle, passing it back and forth. There was a television show on, showing a concert happening on the other side of the city in a stadium Astra could just see if she stood tall enough on the balcony.

Andrew watched her going almost en pointe to try to spy the stadium, mesmerized by her strength and balance and grace. “Can we dance?”

Astra smiled brightly. Dancing was her favorite in the world, of course they could dance! They danced in their socks to the music on the television until Andrew collapsed, out of breath, on the sofa. Astra joined him, blood pumping pleasantly fast through her veins.

“I’m out of shape!” he bemoaned.

“I’m a professional athlete, don’t compare yourself to me. You did just fine.”

“I did? Do you think I could join the ballet?” He laughed giddily.

She’d never seen him giddy like this.

Andy carried the weight of his country on his shoulders, he always had. Addy hadn’t really started bearing Illéa on her back until she was eleven or twelve, old enough to understand what was coming for her, but Andrew had always been a future king, even when he was tiny. Seeing him now, not a care in the world, laughing about joining the ballet… Astra’s heart twisted in her chest and for the first time since breaking up with Kile, it had absolutely nothing to do with him.

He had no part of this.

Astra leant forward and kissed Andrew on the warm, red cheek.

He looked at her, stunned, smile falling off his face. “What was that for?”

“I don’t know… just because. Just for you.”

“Just for me…” he’d mused.

“For being good to me. For taking care of me while I’m here. For… for being you. Yeah… just for you.” Astra nodded, this time more certain that the words made sense outside of her wine-fogged mind.

“I should be me more often.” he chuckled.

Astra blinked.

Should he?

***

There was a version of Astra’s stay in London where she pined away for her ex-boyfriend every moment she got, and maybe poured that pain into her dancing because it was overflowing from her heart and needed somewhere to go. That’s what she’d been expecting deep down. But what really happened was, she found a favorite market to buy groceries from, she found a bakery between her palace and the dance studio that kept her in much-needed carbs, she found a park with a pond where lots of locals liked to walk their dogs, which meant she got to pet a lot of dogs, and she started falling in love with the city.

And then there was Andrew.

He knew her so well, and they’d loved each other as friends for so long, and spending those mornings and nights with him felt so easy, so smooth.

And he was handsome and kind and… ugh, handsome. Astra didn’t regret kissing him on the cheek. Not even when he stood with her on the balcony a week later, watching the sunset, and she laced her hand with his.

“Are you quite alright?” he’d asked, not because she’d grabbed his hand, but just because he was still so worried about her.

“When I got here, I thought the answer to that question would be no forever.” Astra confessed. “And listen… I don’t really know who I am without Kile, he’s been a part of me for my whole life… but these past two weeks I’ve started to find out… and I like it. I like getting to know me.”

Andrew smiled down at her and squeezed her hand.

“And I like you too, Andrew.”

His smile became pained, “Astra—“

“It’s okay. You’re the next king and blah blah blah.” he laughed, because there were so few people in the world who could blah blah blah being an heir to a throne, but Astra was certainly one of them.

“It isn’t that.” he corrected her with a shake of his head. “It’s… you’re getting out of a serious relationship. You can’t like anyone yet—“

“Yes I can.” Astra scoffed, a challenging glint in her eyes, “Watch me.”

“But we’ve been friends our whole lives, too. Wouldn’t you like to like someone different? A stranger, maybe?”

“Where would I find one of those?” Astra lamented, only half-joking. Having a king for an uncle really limited one’s opportunities to meet strangers.

Andrew peered at her closely, then seemingly made up his mind all at once, saying, “Put on a dress.”

“What?”

“Put on a dress, I’ve got a surprise for you!”

Just like that, Andrew was downstairs talking to his security team and Astra was upstairs trying to figure out what dress to wear. There was a sweet springtime yellow thing… and then there was the red thing.

Astra made up her mind quickly. She chose the red thing. She chose everything that the red thing implied.

She appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Andrew’s eyes widened.

“Is this alright? I have other dresses—“

“S’perfect—“ he muttered and then cleared his throat, “Ahem, that is perfect Astra. Let us be off.”

He formally offered her his arm and she accepted with a proud smirk at the flush in his cheeks, then they ducked into his car and his driver whisked them off across town.

“What are we doing?” Astra asked after they took a turn to a part of town she’d never been to before.

“Did I not say it is a surprise?”

“Yes, but—“

“We’ve got guards, and I’ve gone to this place before. There’s no need to worry.”

“Andrew—“

“It’s where I go when I need to meet strangers.”

Astra blinked, dumbfounded.“You? Meet strangers?”

“How else am I supposed to find a queen? ” he muttered mutinously.

Astra stared over at him for a long moment, never having given it a second thought. Addy would be free to date whomever she chose, but if all else failed she could always have a Selection to find her husband. Andrew had nothing like that to choose from.

Astra was surprised when the car pulled to a stop at the backdoor to a nightclub. Could princes of England really go clubbing? But this place looked like it had tight security, and there were signs posted prominently that there were no cameras allowed on the premises. Andrew’s and Astra’s bodyguards stayed close by as they entered the club and Astra’s ears were assaulted by music so loud she could no longer hear it. All she could hear was the beat.

Andrew took her to the bar and bought her whatever drink she wanted, and then leant in close to her ear so that she could hear him say, “What do you think?”

“It’s a little loud!”

He chuckled, “About the strangers.”

“Oh!” Astra looked around as she spun the little umbrella from her pink drink between her fingers. There were all kinds of men here. Some older than her, some younger, some looked athletic and some looked bookish, and they were all having fun, losing themselves to the same beat. “What do you think?!” she yelled at him.

He looked around at the women in the room, sizing them up, and then shrugged, “Hard to say.”

“How do we meet them?!” Astra was yelling, while somehow he was able to keep his voice low and still be heard when he leaned close to her ear.

“Honestly? They usually just come up to me…” he confessed.

Astra rolled her eyes. Royals.

Sure enough, several women came up to Andrew and threw themselves at him while he and Astra waited for even one man to make a pass at her.

“Maybe you’re intimidating them away!” Astra suggested.

“Maybe so. Do you want me to go dance?”

Did she want him to go dance with one of the strange women in the club so that a strange man might come up to her and hit on her?

Not really, no. She wanted to dance with him. She liked dancing with him. More than that, she didn’t want to dance with anyone else. And she didn’t want him to dance with anyone else. She took his hand and dragged him out to the dance floor, their bodyguards hilariously close by, and they started moving.

It wasn’t dancing the way Astra was trained to think of it. There was no choreography, no gentle swell of melody to carry her movements, this was something far more basic than that. The best part was how quickly she was able to stop thinking about anything but her own breath, the sweat on her brow, and the man in front of her.

There was nothing else in the world. For as long as they could stay with the beat, there was only the beat. Endorphins that she associated with a long hard workout flooded her body, and Astra felt good. And beyond feeling good, she did not feel sad. She did not miss anybody. Not her family on the other side of the world, and not Kile. She was complete right here. All she had to do was make this last forever.

“I am not a professional dancer.” Andrew reminded her, breath coming far too fast to get that whole sentence out without gasping for air several times in the middle.

Astra giggled at him, then hugged him close, “This place is magical!” she yelled in his ear.

“Magical?”

And just to prove the point, and to express her gratitude, she pecked his lips with a kiss.

That was it, right? A kiss of gratitude?

As first kisses went, it was silly. They were both too out of breath to do more than mash their lips together for a second and then go back to gasping for air. Andrew led them away for water and after a few minutes to recover, he was ready to try again.

Astra helped him find a way to move to every other beat instead of every beat, essentially cutting the speed of his dancing in half for him. That helped tremendously. But to help him do this, she had to wrap her arms around his neck to guide him, and once he had the beat it was all much less frantic and much more sensual. This time when they kissed, it was not a silly peck on the lips.

Astra had only ever kissed Kile before, but since that was never happening again, she didn’t allow herself to think about that. She didn’t think about how Andrew was taller than Kile, and his cheeks were softer because he shaved every single morning without fail. She didn’t think about anything except how nice it was not to feel pain. When she was with Andrew, especially when she was kissing Andrew, she felt nothing but joy.

Was she using him to feel better?

If someone made you feel better and wanted to be around you, was that even using them?

They stayed at the club until Andrew was too tired to go on (and even Astra was ready to admit she was tired), and then they climbed back into Andrew’s car and rode off into the night.

Astra’s ears were ringing with the sudden silence, and they were both flushed and dripping with sweat. Astra was ready to bet her face matched the red of her dress and her hair, and was ready to feel embarrassed about that somewhere beneath her exhaustion, when Andrew slid his hand over to hers and squeezed.

She looked over at him and smiled.

It was past 2 in the morning when they got back to Astra’s palace, and Astra couldn’t believe they’d spent so many hours getting swept away like that.

“I’d do that every night if I thought my hearing could survive it.” Astra admitted as they struggled to get up the stairs, feeling distinctly like they had overcooked pasta for legs.

Astra took an ice-cold bath and then rolled her legs out to try to avert any soreness the next morning, and then she found Andrew in one of the guest bedrooms. “Thanks for the dancing… sorry we didn’t meet any strangers.” she grinned.

“I’m not.” he admitted, with complete candor.

“Well then, no future queen for you and no non-childhood friend to date for me.”

“Perhaps you could find a childhood enemy?” he suggested, and she laughed at the dryness of voice as he made the joke.

“Yes, I’ll have to make do.” she agreed.

***

The kisses felt stolen for the first week, like they were getting away with something they weren’t supposed to, but then one day Andrew showed up with Astra’s favorite breakfast, and two paper travel cups of tea, and he pecked her on the lips in greeting and it didn’t feel stolen at all. It felt as comfortable as an old sweater, and made her feel just as warm inside.

To celebrate the end of her first month in London, Astra ordered dinner for them from the same restaurant they’d eaten at on her very first night in town. He showed up looking frazzled after a long day of talking with members of parliament, but all the more pleased to see her because that stress was over now. And, of course, he brought her the same kind of wine they’d shared that first night.

Astra had bought a corkscrew weeks ago now, so they didn’t need to resort to using ancient swords to open their alcohol, which made it slightly less interesting. Astra curled up against him on the balcony overlooking the city and kissed him every chance she got.

“You’re certainly in a mood.” he noted with a smile down at her, after their fourth surprise kiss.

“I’m just glad to be here.”

“Are you?” he seemed surprised. She didn’t blame him. It was quite a turn from her first weepy night a month ago.

“Yes. I think London’s been good for me.”

And maybe she meant the city, with her new favorite local spots and the friends she was making at the seminar, but maybe she meant Andrew. Maybe she couldn’t really tell the difference, and it was all just good for her.

“I am very glad to hear that.”

“I wish I didn’t have to go to Waverly in two months.” Astra admitted. “It’s an amazing opportunity for my career, not to mention I’ll get to visit my grandparents in Carolina all the time, but… I like London.”

This time she was blatantly talking about him.

“Well… London’s not going anywhere anytime soon, I suppose.” he pointed out, fully onto her game.

She hmm-ed into her wineglass, “I suppose not.”

“And you’re always welcome in London, you know.”

Astra giggled and shook her head, surprising him with another kiss as a reward for playing along with her silly euphemism.

Later that night, when the food was stashed away in the kitchen and the wine was mostly empty, Andrew joined Astra again on the balcony as she stood there with the springtime breeze blowing through her loose, curly hair. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

“I meant it, you know.” he said. “You could stay as long as you like. There’s a tremendous ballet company in London, perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

Astra laughed, pressing a hand to his over her stomach and turning to look up at him. “Maybe someday.”

“You’re dead-set on going to Waverly, then?”

“Well, I’ve signed a contract.” she explained.

“Ah. They shall imprison you if you break it. I understand.”

His voice was always so serious when he joked, never giving away the game. She laughed at the thought and said, “Yes, there’s a special prison for ballet dancers who break their contracts, it’s especially brutal. I hear they make you dance to jazz all day.”

This time his lips brushed the placed where her shoulders met her neck, and her breath hitched at the sensation. “I shan’t extradite you.” he concluded, his warm lips brushing her skin. “I shall keep you here, safe and sound, far away from the ballet constables.”

Astra laced her fingers with his over her stomach and said, “They’re relentless, the ballet constables. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

His lips trailed up her neck and stopped at her ear where he said softly, “I think I can manage.”

Astra’s entire body erupted in chills, and suddenly she didn’t want to continue their elaborate, jokey banter about the consequences of her actions. She turned in his arms and pressed her lips roughly to his, knowing beyond the shadow of a doubt that all she really wanted was to lose herself in the taste and the feel and the smell of him. Andrew was the only person in the world who made her not care about the future, and when his lips were on her skin that was doubly true.

It wasn’t exactly real happiness she felt when she was lying in bed with him, his sandy brown hair all ruffled, his arm slung across her like he was afraid she’d disappear in the night. True, meaningful, lasting happiness was something that required a lot of factors: feeling good about the present and hopeful about the future, and at peace with the past. Astra wasn’t at peace with her past, and she didn’t even want to think about the future, but the present… the present was so good. It was one out of three. One out of three wasn’t bad.

***

If Andrew’s parents noticed that he was essentially living with Astra that spring, they didn’t say anything about it. Maybe they just assumed that, since they were close friends, he was keeping her company and enjoying a nice, extended visit. And that was perfectly true, except that they were sharing a bed and occasionally a shower, and they shared a cup of coffee in the morning and a bottle of wine at night.

They didn’t go back to that club, but they found other ways to go out together without being photographed. There were secret tables in the kitchens of restaurants, special royal boxes in theaters, private trains to private estates, and one time there was a royal yacht. Astra was surprised that Andy had so much freedom, as the heir to the throne. Addy couldn’t have dreamed of roaming around Illéa the way that Andrew was gallivanting across his future kingdom. Sure, part of it was Andrew making sure Astra was having the time of her life— he probably didn’t usually venture away from home so much— but even so.

“Will you be able to keep this up once you’re king?” she’d asked him as they sat curled up together on a train ride returning from the south. “All this rambling.” she explained at his questioning look.

“Ah. No, there will certainly be less. But my job will be nothing nearly so intense as King Maxon’s, if that is what you’re thinking. For one thing, I’ve got parliament.”

Astra wasn't exactly sure how England’s parliament worked. She knew King Eoan set the legislative agenda, but he couldn’t pass any kind of law on his own. “I can’t believe they let you have a whole train to yourself, and you barely have to work.” she teased.

His arm was wrapped around her shoulders, and his thumb began tracing her upper arm as he said, “If you think my future job’s a scandal, you should see what our queen has to do. Host parties, go shopping, appear at events…” his voice sounded as if it was a strain to remain light and carefree. As if his words were more important than he wanted them to be.

Astra leaned her head on his shoulder. Those were all things she already did for Illéa. Well, she didn’t host many parties, but she sometimes helped her Aunt Ames out when things were especially overwhelming. It was strange to think that she had experience doing the same job as the Queen of England.

“All that, and she gets to retire young?”

“Assuming that whole heir business is sorted out sufficiently early.” he admitted.

“Oh, that.” Astra giggled.

“On the whole, it’s not a terrible job.” he said.

“No, not when you factor in the jewelry.” Astra agreed, still joking.

“Precisely.” Andrew nodded with a small smile against the top of her head.

Astra wasn’t sure why he didn’t return her joke with one of his own.

***

Though Astra very much enjoyed being swept off her feet by the prince, it was the quiet nights at the palace that meant the most to her. Sometimes, after dinner and a long, hot bath, her joints would feel well enough to practice some choreography in one of the drawing rooms. Andrew would play the piano for her, putting years of lessons to use for the first time. Sometimes her joints would not feel well enough for more dancing after a long day at the seminar, and he’d rub her battered feet and ankles until she melted into a puddle at the other end of the sofa or bed, or wherever they happened to be.

She’d ask him about his work, but he wouldn’t tell her much. Maybe he was worried about protecting state secrets, or maybe he didn’t want to worry her. Maybe he didn’t want her to see him in less than a good mood, because he was only there to make her happy. And how could she not be happy?

One night, in the middle of her second month in England, as she laid awake in their bed and brushed her fingers through his unruly hair (a sight so few had ever seen: the Heir to England with unruly hair), she pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear and said softly, “What are we going to do when I have to leave for Waverly?”

Sleepily, he’d pried his eyes open, his eyelashes fluttering against her skin. “What would you like to do?”

“Freeze this moment in amber. Live in it forever.”

“Be young, in love, and carefree forever?” he’d smirked.

“In love?” she’d hesitated, surprised. They’d only been attached at the lips for six weeks now, as impossible as it seemed. Hadn’t they enjoyed half a lifetime together already?

“Oh dear.” He’d lifted his head up so that he could look in her eyes, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Astra shook her head, “It’s okay. I do love you Andrew.”

“Do you?” he sounded amazed.

And she did. She’d always loved him, just as he’d always loved her. They’d grown up together, perfect friends, how could she not love him?

“I’m sorry you didn’t know that already.” she let her hand fall from his hair down his spine, coming to rest on his bare lower back. She traced the shape of a heart there with her finger and he shuddered. “You’re one of the best friends I’ll ever have, and I love you.”

He smiled and returned his cheek to her chest, listening for her heartbeat. “Yes. This moment would do just fine.”

“We could freeze this moment and allow archaeologists to discover it in a few thousand years.”

“And if we don’t like the future, we could simply freeze this moment again.” he agreed.

“You don’t think you’d be bored after a few thousand years?”

He grinned, one hand tracing her ribcage lazily, “I could find a few ways to keep myself occupied.”

***

Astra didn’t notice the first time there was a photographer waiting outside of the dance studio after her rehearsals. And then, a couple of days later, when a rumor sourced to a local food delivery driver was printed in a Sunday paper saying that he delivered Prince Andrew’s favorite kind of curry to the Palace where Astra was staying a couple of times per week. She didn’t mind when Andrew suggested they stop sneaking out to exclusive clubs or restaurants around the city, because staying in was extremely entertaining.

But it was hard to miss when Andrew nervously appeared in her doorway one evening and said, instead of ‘hello’ or ‘how was your day’, “Grandmother has asked to meet you.”

Astra gaped. Queen Cerridwen, King Eoan’s mother, had never met any of the Illéan royals in-person. Maybe she’d met Uncle Maxon back before he was King, when she was still the active queen, but maybe not even then. “Me? Wh…why?”

Andrew ran a hand through his hair and ruffled it in a way that would have been funny if he hadn’t look so stressed. He sank to his knees to sit next to Astra, who’d been sitting on the floor, using the coffee table to hold her nail polish bottles as she painted her toes. “The rumors got to her.”

“Rumors… about us?”

Andrew nodded, “I’ve had the press department squashing everything the second they hear about it, and it’s bought us some time, but the rumors have been consistent for long enough now—“

“The rumors that we’re spending time together?” Astra asked.

“Yes.” Andrew looked faintly nauseous.

Astra smiled and traced his cheekbone with her thumb soothingly, “We are spending time together. We’re not being falsely accused.”

“No, I know… I think, just… I think we need to talk.”

Those were heavy words.

Kile had been the last one to say those words to her, and the outcome had been really unpleasant.

“You didn’t bring wine?” Astra noticed for the first time.

“I wanted us to keep our heads clear.”

“Are you ending this?” Astra asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“No.” Andrew promised. “But we’ve never talked about what this is before. I’ve been able to buy us a little slice of time to ourselves, but I’ve reached the end of my tricks.”

Astra looked into his eyes carefully, noticing the strain there for the first time, “You never said you had to use tricks…”

“I didn’t want you to have to worry about it. I wanted to be… uncomplicated. Simple. After everything you’ve been through, I thought that you needed simplicity.”

“I did.” she admitted, chest suddenly aching at the thought that the simple times might be gone.

He brushed an errant curl behind her ear and smiled bracingly, “I am not here to tell you that the world is ending. Merely that people have found us out. They’re asking questions that I do not have the answers to, and in lieu of my answers, they are coming to their own conclusions. Grandmother amongst the rest.”

“She wants to meet me because she knows we’ve been dating?”

Andrew huffed a breath, “It’s her way of forcing the matter at hand. When it comes to me, to dating the English Heir, there is dating and there is Dating. Courting. Something official, not just between you and I, but between us and all of England.”

Astra looked a little creeped out at the thought, “They… want in on our dates?”

Andrew rubbed his brow, “In a manner of speaking… there comes a point when I’m meant to introduce anyone I am seeing to the people of England as a potential future queen.”

“Why? It’s not like they get to vote on who stays in your bed, or in our case, my bed.”

“No, but it’s…” he seemed so uncomfortable at having to explain this to her. Probably any English girl he dated would have seen this coming a mile away and known what to expect. Astra blushed a little, feeling inadequate for the first time all spring. “It’s a bit like a small Selection, perhaps. They get to know the person their prince is dating and they get to watch me court their future queen.”

“Oh, and your gramma wants you to do that with me?” What a relief to know she was just a confused old woman who’d misunderstood.

“Precisely. Meeting Grandmother at her estate in Scotland would signal the official start to our official courtship.”

Astra felt all the tension leave her body and she smirked at him, “Your gramma is proposing marriage to me on your behalf.”

“Basically.”

“What’s she in such a hurry for? We’re teenagers.”

Andrew let out an exasperated sigh, relieved now that he could see Astra wasn’t panicking and throwing everything she owned into a bag to haul back to Illéa on the first flight out the next morning. “I don’t know. You’re a good match, obviously. My father is close with your uncle, but it would be smart to solidify that alliance with some kind of marriage.”

“Very sexy and romantic.” Astra giggled.

“Isn’t it just?” he agreed wryly. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, “I suppose she’s worried because I’ll be king in a few more years. She doesn’t want me to have to go through that enormous transition of responsibility by myself. I suppose finding a queen would be much harder as king than as prince, too. Father’s even asked me if I want to take a few months next year and devote myself to dating full time before he begins handing off responsibilities to me in earnest. As part of a formal ascension plan.”

“What a conversation.”

“You can’t begin to imagine.”

Astra collapsed into giggles, doing her best to imagine it anyway. King Eoan asking his son if he wanted to be a full-time, 40-hours-per-week dater as part of his obligations to the crown.

“It’s good you think this is funny.” he sulked, but he only partially meant it. He was genuinely glad she was laughing instead of crying.

Fairly certain her toes were dry now, Astra stood and screwed the caps on her polish, stashing the bottles in a drawer next to her vanity. She stretched, fingers reached for the ceiling, going up on her toes, and as she came down she whisked her loose t-shirt over her head.

“Astra.” Andrew cleared his throat, forcing his eyes away from her lacy, pale blue and white bra, “Clear heads, remember?”

“I’m just getting comfortable.” she said in a voice that clearly told him she was not just getting comfortable.

He stood and she came over and loosened his tie for him. He placed a hand over hers when she made for his shirt’s buttons and said, “Do you want this to last past April?”

Astra gulped, “I wish April was forever.”

He stared at her, the only flicker of doubt coming from the small twitch of his eyebrow. “That’s not the same thing.”

“… I know.”

“You don’t have to answer me tonight, but we should talk about it. If we keep going past April, I suspect it will make the most sense for you… for you to meet grandmother.”

This time, when Astra continued with his buttons, it was a genuine effort to help him get comfortable, and not a ploy to see his bare chest. Seeing his bare chest was an undeniable bonus, though. She linked her fingers with his and dragged him towards her bed, and then she flopped down on her back and stared up at the top of her four poster canopy. “So what would happen after I met your grandmother?”

“You’d get some secret service protection.” Andrew laid on his stomach and used his finger to draw doodles on the smooth, soft skin above her navel. His breath felt warm as it puffed against her ribs, but her skin erupted in goosebumps anyway, and he pressed a chaste kiss to them. He knew the effect he had on her, and it only made him want to cherish her more.

“I’d go back to Illéa, though. To Waverly.”

“Yes. We’d coordinate that. It would probably be a less hectic place for you than in England.”

“You think England will be hectic if you announce we’re officially dating?”

Andrew huffed one dry, humorless laugh. “When they find out I’m thinking of making you their princess… sweetheart, it’s going to be a nightmare of a circus.”

“Terrifying clowns?”

“The most terrifying.” he agreed.

Astra sighed, “Then what? How long would we get to date before they’d expect you to decide whether you want to marry me or not?”

“Given the time you’d be spending in Illéa, we could get a year.”

“A year.” Astra liked the sound of that. Sure, she’d dance until her contract was up in Waverly, but then she’d come back and get to do this with Andrew for months and months. His dad might even let him date her full-time. Morning, noon, and night cuddles.

“Yes, and then…”

“And then a fairytale proposal. Would it have to be public?”

“Gosh, no.” Andrew promised. “But it would need to have a good story behind it. Take you somewhere meaningful—“

“Like the club where we first kissed.” Astra teased, running her hands through his hair.

“No, not at all.” he chuckled.

“And would I get to wear one of the crown jewels or something?”

Andrew lifted his head to look at her. “Would you want one?”

Astra laughed. It was all so completely silly. She was an eighteen year old girl! A boy was offering her a crown jewel! She laughed some more.

“Our engagement would be six months, eight at most.” he said. “That’s going to be the hardest time for you. You won’t be royal yet, but you’ll have all the expectations. Of course, you’d have everything you’d need from us. Security, education, an allowance for your clothes.”

“Mmm, clothes.”

“And then—“

“A royal wedding?”

“Yes.”

“And a royal honeymoon?”

“Of course.” he pressed another kiss to her skin, this one not so chaste.

“And then I’m your princess?”

“Until we take our oaths to become king and queen.”

“You really think I could be queen?”

“You think you couldn’t?”

“I know how hard it is on my Aunt Ames. It’s not really the life I saw for myself.”

“It’s different in England, you know. We’re smaller than most Illéan provinces, and we’ve got parliament.”

She couldn’t continue to fantasize about marrying him without understanding what he meant when he said that. “Andy, how does parliament help you?”

“Eh… help is not the word.” Andrew admitted. “It’s more that they take certain responsibilities off the monarch’s plate. Whether they do so in a manner that helps is an entirely different question. But unlike Queen America, who assists on many matters of policy and diplomacy, my mother’s job is almost entirely ceremonial, supporting my father’s efforts.”

“So do you think I could dance if we were married?”

Andrew fell quiet, wracking his brain for a way. “Not once we were engaged… I just can’t imagine that you would have time. And you’d quickly become one of the most famous women in the world… not that you’re anonymous now, just that we’re talking about a whole different stratosphere of public interest… even if we found time for you to dance in the royal ballet, it might not be safe.”

Astra hated that answer, but it made perfect sense to her. Addy had never regularly commuted into the city for any reason. Keeping her safe during recurring, publicly open performances would have been a nightmare, and Astra supposed that would be true for her too.

Astra also knew she wasn’t going to dance forever. She probably had a good ten or twelve years before retirement, and that was only if she avoided any major injuries. In Astra’s experience, injuries and pregnancies were two of the most common reasons dancers retired younger than thirty and they were both to be avoided.

“How long do you think we could put all of this off? I don’t want to stop dancing.”

“I know. I want you to dance! You’re bloody magnificent when you dance.”

“Just when I dance?” she teased suggestively.

“Other times too.” he smirked up at her. He let his face fall gently on her stomach, breathing in the smell of her body wash and then lifting his head again, “I could tell Grandmother we’re not yet ready. You could go to Waverly and come back for visits now and again.”

“Sounds like I’d miss you.”

“I’d miss you too.”

“Sounds better to me, though.”

“I suppose it must. The people mightn’t be fooled, they’ll still expect something is happening between us.”

“They’d be right.”

“But Astra… No matter what, I’ll be King four years from now. There’s no delaying that. ”

“That’s a long time, Andy.”

“I can’t… you must understand, I’d need to know for certain by then.”

“Of course!”

“Ideally… Ideally I would be married by then so that we could share the coronation ceremony.”

“So we could have a wedding earlier that fall? You’d propose that spring? That gives us a few years. That gives me time to dance.”

“But would it be enough?”

“Three years is forever, Andy.” Astra grinned down at him.

“And you’d really consider being my queen?”

“I’d consider a lot of things for blue eyes like yours.”

“They are an important part of the benefits package.” he agreed, placing an arm on either side of her and bringing himself up so that they were eye to eye. “Along with lots of travel to exotic locations. The finest champagne money can buy. Famous designers tripping over themselves to clothe you. A handful of palaces. Lots of diamonds.” he punctuated each of these offers with a deep, heated kiss and by the end Astra was absolutely dizzy and in no state to negotiate her future job benefits.

***

By the end of the week it was not just one photographer waiting outside of the ballet studio anymore, there were dozens. They were aggressive and pushy, yelling her name and constantly demanding she tell them if she was seeing Andrew. Her Illéan security detail was not pleased. The theater that housed the ballet was difficult to secure against so many persistent intruders, and there was serious discussion about whether they could even let her finish the seminar. They also discussed calling King Maxon and asking him for reinforcements, which made Astra’s stomach feel sick. She didn’t want her uncle to have to pay money and spare resources to send across the world to her all because of her love life.

It was a tense day and a half before Andrew was able to come through with security of his own to supplement her detail. It had been a tough thing to organize, given she wasn’t officially his girlfriend, but he’d found a way for her.

If Astra knew anything in those days, it was that he would always find a way for her. That had never been the problem.

There were reporters outside of Astra’s palace now, night and day, and they marked each time Andrew came or went. Instead of lounging together on the balcony overlooking the city, Astra and Andrew had to draw the curtains closed for the sake of their privacy.

“We should just tell them we’re not really dating.” Astra said. “I can’t outright lie to them.” Andrew insisted. “I can’t break trust with my people. I don’t have to confirm we’re together, but I can’t just tell them we’re not.”

“There’s got to be a way… tell them we have no intention of courting right now. That’s not a lie, is it?”

“It’s a bit transparent.” Andrew pointed out.

“Well, I’d love to hear your better idea!”

Andrew sighed into her hair. They were dancing to the music on the television, its glow the only light in her bedroom. “Maybe we break up. And I tell them we broke up.”

“You’re breaking up with me?” Astra suddenly sounded so small and vulnerable, he squeezed her tighter, “No! Not really. Not in that way. It’s just a way we can… buy you some more time before we have to fess up to anything.”

Astra didn’t want to fake-break up with Andrew. She wanted the entire world to leave them to their peace and quiet in their little palace of domestic bliss forever. What was so complicated about that?

Andrew had the idea of staying away one night to try to relieve some of the heat, but all it did was leave Astra pacing the floor alone, listening to the rumble of dozens of people camped out on the street in front of her palace all night.

Astra and Andrew were summoned by Queen Waverly the next day and sat down together on the sofa in her office.

Everything about it was embarrassing. Andy’s mother needed to know how long they had been romantic, how far their romance had gone, how serious they were about their future together, and why Andrew had turned down his grandmother’s invitation.

“Lovey, she wasn’t trying to force your hand.” Waverly told Andrew sympathetically. “What’s happening now out there… it’s going to get worse, the longer we let the media spin itself up into a frenzy.”

Astra said, “I only have a week and a half left, your Majesty—“

“Astra.” Waverly reproached the use of her title. “We’re having this discussion as family. Call me Aunt Waverly… if you’re marrying my son, call me Mum.”

Astra gulped, looking at Andrew, lost.

“We’ve only been together a few months, we don’t know—“ Andrew spoke up, until Waverly nodded and held up her hand to silence him.

“I understand entirely.” She turned her head to the side to study a giant portrait of one of Andy’s female ancestors. “Listen you two, I know that this is a complicated situation. The only thing that will help is being forthright with the people.”

“If Astra meets grandmother, the people will be demanding a proposal by Christmas.”

“Perhaps so.”

“We’re not ready for that.” Andrew was keeping a lid on his princely composure, but Astra could tell he felt hopelessly trapped by his mother and the palace and his people beyond its walls. He was ready to rattle the cages.

Waverly nodded, “Your father and I will do everything we possibly can for you, you know that. We only want your happiness. But things are getting very intense, very fast out there. That’s happening because you’re choosing not to do things the conventional way. You must understand that.”

Very intense, very fast. That was Astra’s whole relationship with Andrew in a nutshell.

“It’s just a week and a half.” Astra reiterated. “Then I’ll be back in Illéa and the press can calm down for a while.”

“The speculation won’t stop until it is addressed by us, and it might even turn ugly.” Waverly warned. “When you stop giving them fresh photograph opportunities every day at your ballet house, when there aren’t rumors flying about sightings of the two of you all over London—“

“Not true, by the way.” Andrew said.

“Some of them could be.” Astra reminded him.

“Only the very old ones. We’ve not been out in a fortnight.”

Astra nodded.

“My point is, in a vacuum of real news, someone will invent rumors to splash on their tabloids. It will be anything and everything. Abuse, affairs, pregnancy out of wedlock, Astra will be a gold digger who broke Andy’s heart one week, the next week Andy will be a womanizing fiend who took advantage of a childhood friend. Relations between England and Illéa will be on the brink—“

“They won’t!” Astra objected.

“Only in the magazines.” Waverly replied. “But we wouldn't want any hostile nations thinking the rumors were true and attempting to take advantage of the supposed rift. You see how this could spiral?”

The room fell to silence for the first time. Astra shivered just a little, “I feel like I’ve been tossed into a tornado.”

“It gets better." Waverly promised. “Once you’re proactive about telling your own story, it gets harder for the media to frenzy over half-credible unattributed rumors.”

Astra buried her face in her hands. She’d thought she’d have years before she had to tell the media a story about her relationship with Andrew. It felt wrong that the people of England were forcing an eighteen year old girl to move so quickly.

“I just need time.” Astra said into her hands.

“Right.” Waverly made up her mind and stood, “In that case, Eoan and I are inviting you to stay here with us for the rest of your visit, Astra. We’ll tell the media that we’re very much looking forward to spending time with you before the end of your trip.”

“No, wait…” Astra looked up, heartbroken that she was losing her private little palace. Would she even get to go back and say goodbye to it?

“This isn’t a punishment, sweetheart.” Waverly sighed and then tugged Astra up to standing, pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re not in trouble. Not one little bit. You’ll have more privacy here, behind our gates and with all of our guards. You’ll have one of our cars to drive you to and from the ballet, and Andy won’t be caught coming and going at all hours of the night because he already lives here… or he did before you came to town.” she said the last part teasingly to her oldest son, who had the temerity to blush at his shamelessness.

Astra felt her eyes sting with tears, “I love that palace… it’s been a good home for me.”

Waverly smiled sweetly, “You’ll be welcome to stay there the next time you come back. If you and Andrew announce an engagement, we’ll fully staff the place for you so that it’s safer. Perhaps you and Andrew could use it as your home for the time between your marriage and his assumption of the crown.”

“Really?” Andrew looked enticed by the offer.

“You’ll need to live somewhere, dear. You couldn’t live with your parents as newlyweds, it would be unbearable.” Waverly teased. “England would never get an heir that way.”

Heirs.

Hearing the queen say that word in this palace, next to the crown prince made it feel very real and very scary. Did Astra want her kids to be heirs? She thought again of Addy and Jamesy… she loved them more than anything in the world, but she couldn’t imagine raising her children for such an incredible responsibility.

Waverly continued softly, “The main thing is, we need to be very delicate here, my loves. When Andrew becomes king, he will become the head of the church. Please understand, I do not mind what you the two of you do or don’t do, so long as you are safe and consenting.”

“Mother.” Andy squirmed.

“But it would put Andrew in a difficult position, becoming head of the church, if he was seen to have a… well a marriage-style relationship with a woman who was not his wife for too long.”

“Yes, heaven forbid I have a healthy, long-term girlfriend.” Andy scowled.

“It’s the vows to God that are the issue at hand, not heaven, and you know it.” Waverly scolded his sass quietly, but efficiently.

“So we break up.” Astra concluded. “We officially break up when I go back to Illéa, and then when it’s time, I come back to England and we publicly reunite… you don’t have any church issues, and I have time to dance.”

Waverly looked between them quietly. “It might be the only option, short of scheduling dinner with your grandmother.”

Andrew looked almost as sad as if the breakup was real. Maybe he was scared it would become real once Astra was out of the whirlwind. She laced her fingers with his and squeezed, “We’ll figure this out.”

He squeezed back twice, gently.

***

That night Astra slept in Andrew’s bedroom for the first time in their entire affair.

“The maids are gonna know.”

“Everyone knows.” he snorted into her hair. “That’s why we’re here and not across town in our own palace.”

“Your parents are in the building.” she complained when his hands began wandering her body.

“Not close enough to hear anything.”

“Still… what if they have to walk by for a glass of water or something?”

“You want me to keep my hands to myself tonight?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh, so shall we see who can be quietest?” he brushed his fingers across her ribs and she quietly shrieked a giggle. “You are so bad at this, darling.”

“Oh yeah?” she got her revenge with vicious tickles, exploiting every sensitive spot she’d found on his body the last few months.

***

Living in the English palace was an easy adjustment for Astra. She'd grown up in Illéa Palace which, as the functioning capital building of one of the largest nations in the world, was larger and had a much bigger staff. The English palace was certainly ancient and stately, but Astra had grown up visiting the place, so at least she wasn’t too dazzled to see this for what it was.

There was no more delivery from local restaurants once those palace gates were closed, but the royal chef made sure that Andy and Astra had everything they wanted delivered to one of their rooms each night, so that wasn’t actually too much of a change. Not only that, but the maids were discrete and only came onto their floor when Andrew was at work and Astra was at the ballet for the day, so it was almost like their bedrooms magically tidied themselves up each day.

Really, the biggest change for Astra had been weeks before, when rumors had started flying and she and Andrew had stopped venturing out into London. Andrew still appeared in her doorway just in time for dinner, looking handsome and happy to see her. They still shared good meals and long baths, and a warm bed each night. But now the illusion that time didn't exist and that they could continue peacefully, blissfully existing in their little bubble forever was burst.

Since the royal palace hadn't released a statement about the gorgeous young foreign princess living in the same palace as their handsome young future king, salacious headlines were beginning to trickle from tabloids to increasingly reputable news sources. Astra and Andrew's private affair wasn’t so private anymore.

Some part of Astra had been hoping that the rumors would die down once she and Andrew had retreated into the palace, even though she knew better. But on her second-to-final rehearsal before her big seminar performance, photographers started camping out overnight at the stage door to the ballet, not just hounding Astra but harassing her fellow dancers, too. It was humiliating to think that these world-class performers, some of whom Astra had idolized for years, were getting manhandled on their way to and from work every day because of Astra’s love life. She wasn’t sure her reputation in the industry would ever recover from this. Who would want to work with her when her very presence could cause such a disruption?

She cried in the backseat of the car on her way back to the royal palace that day, but she had big sunglasses on, and at least no photographers caught her moment of weakness.

“I don’t want to be the girl who’s dating the future king. I want to be a damn good dancer.” Astra said that night, her cheek pressed to Andrew’s chest as he drew swirling designs on her bare back with his fingers.

“You are both.”

“You don’t understand… you literally can’t.”

“What?” Andrew wasn’t insulted, which was the great thing about him. He was always humble about his own limitations. “Why can I not understand?”

“Have you ever looked up to someone who was truly excellent at the very thing that you wanted to be truly excellent at?”

“Of course.”

“Who?”

“King Maxon.”

Astra rolled her eyes and lifted her head so he could see her at it. “You met him when you could still count your age on one hand.”

“So?”

“So most people never get to meet their idols, and if they do it’s because they’ve worked extremely hard to become very good at something. There are choreographers and dancers at this seminar that I’ve admired for a decade. And now my presence is turning their workplace, a place I consider to be sacred, into a hostile circus.”

Andrew frowned down at her and said softly, “Did I not promise you terrifying clowns?”

“I don’t want to bring chaos to every stage I cross.” Astra pouted.

Andrew nodded and said, “So we should announce our breakup immediately. I’ll release a statement tomorrow, and ask a friend of mine to appear in public with me tomorrow night… a woman. It won’t cure everything overnight, but it would surely alleviate some of the pressure.”

Astra stared into his eyes, then studied the line of his nose, the cut of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw. “That’s a lot of trouble to go through just for me.”

“Astra, are you joking? You’re the one going through trouble for me.”

Astra nodded, but she dropped a kiss onto his lips anyway. “Okay, but the breakup is fake.” her lips danced over his.

His teeth gently teased her lower lip as he replied, “Yeah. I noticed.”

***

As warm and inviting as the arms holding her were, Astra had a difficult time staying asleep that night. She was nervous about returning to rehearsals the next morning, nervous about their final performance, now only a couple of days away, nervous about her new relationship with Andrew, and nervous about being nervous about her new relationship with Andrew.

At around four in the morning she slipped out of bed and tiptoed back to her suite, where she found a pitcher of water and a tray of snacks waiting for her. She spent so many hours of her day exercising that sometimes she woke up in the middle of the night ravenously, painfully hungry, so she’d requested that she be left some snacks just in case. She picked at a scone, lost in her anxieties, and her stress about not being able to sleep, until the telephone next to her bed rang so loudly and shrilly that it caused her to jump and splash some of her glass of water onto her night shirt.

“Hello?” Astra picked up the phone, hoping to hear an Illéan voice on the other end of the line. She hadn’t spoken to Addy in a few days, and it had been almost a week since her Aunt Ames or Uncle Maxon had phoned. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in longer than that, but they’d be arriving in London in less that twenty-four hours so that they could watch her final performance, so she wasn’t too desperate to speak to them.

And while the voice on the other line was Illéan, it definitely wasn’t one she had been expecting.

“Hey.”

Astra’s stomach clenched and her body flooded with adrenaline. She reminded herself to behave like a normal person and not like a lunatic when, as casually as she could, she replied, “Kile? Is that you?” like she didn’t know. Like she wouldn’t know his voice anywhere, anytime, under any circumstance. She knew his voice better than she knew her own.

“Sorry, I know it’s the middle of the night over there. …You don’t sound like you were sleeping, though.”

He would know.

Astra gulped hard, “I needed a snack.” It was a lie, but it was close enough to the truth.

“Hm. Is he there then?”

Astra felt defensive anger flare up in her chest, and only later realized that the anger was covering a sense of guilt. “So what if he is? You broke up with me—“

“Astra—“

“No, it’s okay. I’m not saying that in a mean way. I’m stating a fact. We are not together because you broke up with me, so why do you care if he’s here?”

There was a long pause and then a low groan on the other end of the phone. Astra heard a brush of fabric over his microphone, as if he’d been rubbing his face and his sleeve caught on the receiver.

“I want to know if he’s there, because I want to talk to you when you’re alone. It’s why I’m calling so late… or early, I guess.” Kile said.

Astra’s traitor heart beat faster. What did he want to talk to her about when she was alone? Was he going to apologize? Was he going to ask for her back?

It was too late, obviously. Astra had obviously moved on. Obviously. “He’s not here.”

Kile sounded relieved when he said, “Good.” and that annoyed Astra. He had no right to be relieved that she wasn’t in bed with another man. He’d hurt her in a way she’d never known she could hurt before.

She lashed out, “I didn’t want to wake him up with my snacking. But he’ll probably notice I’m gone soon, so you should hurry up and say what you want to say.”

The pained sound that snuck out of his throat with his next exhale was not as satisfying as Astra had hoped it would be. She regretted her words already. Maybe now he wouldn’t ask for her back… not that she wanted him to.

Kile said, “Let me ask you something…”

This was it. He was going to ask for forgiveness. He was going to ask her to come back to Illéa and be with him.

“What do you want more than anything in the world?” Kile said.

What was he expecting her to say? That she wanted him? She was dating the Crown Prince of England!

“Astra?”

“What do you mean, Kile?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean? For our whole lives you’ve always wanted one thing more than anything in the world. What is it?”

Oh. Astra replied almost mechanically, her voice barely above a mumble, “I want to be the Prima Ballerina for the Angeles Ballet for at least a season, maybe two.”

“And you wanted that enough that you didn’t even think about moving closer to my university, because it would have taken you away from the Angeles ballet. And not for a good reason, like that invitation you got to dance in Waverly. For no reason. For me.”

“You’re not no reason—“

“No, I’m just not a good enough reason.”

“Kile—“

“You can’t argue with that.”

“You said you wouldn’t promise to look for apprenticeships and internships in the cities where I was dancing. You said you don’t want to live in Angeles when you grow up!”

“I don’t. I’m going to go where I can do my best work.” he said plainly. “I still think you and I made a good choice to split up.”

Hearing him say that was hard. She wanted him to regret it. She wanted him to miss her like she had missed him before Andrew had swept her off her feet. Losing him had changed her and she would never be the same as she was before, and he wasn’t even sorry.

Kile continued, “I’m just saying… what was the point of drawing a line in the sand about you and me if you were just going to walk all over it for Andy?”

“What?”

“We both know that you’ll never be prima anything if you marry Andy. You told me yourself, every waking hour of a prima’s life is devoted to dancing or preparing to dance. There are no hobbies, no vacations, no date nights. There definitely isn't time to be somebody’s princess.”

“I’m already an Illéan Prin—“

“Cut the shit, Astra, you know what I mean.” Kile sounded exasperated, and she knew why. She was trying to miss his point, but he wasn’t exactly being subtle about it so dodging it was proving impossible.

“Maybe I want something else now. Maybe I want to marry Andrew.”

“Look… Andy’s not a bad guy—“ Kile admitted through gritted teeth, “But there will be plenty of not bad guys waiting for you after you retire. So if you pick him, do it because you want the life he’ll give you more than the life you can earn for yourself. And be ready to bury your dreams of being a prima ballerina forever, if you do. I know you, and I know you’re getting swept up in this—“

“Don’t talk about me like I’m some helpless little… little damsel, Kile.” Astra snapped.

“Think about it logistically. Do you want to move to the other side of the world from your parents and your little brothers? They’ll visit you as often as they can, but your visits to Illéa will always be to the Palace, to King Maxon and Addy. You won’t be able to go home again. Do you want to have to keep a royal schedule, planned months and years in advance? And you can forget being around from Addy once she becomes queen, you’ll be trapped on the far side of an ocean.”

“Kile—“ Astra tried to interrupt him because she wanted him to stop making sense.

“What about the little things? What about the weather? You’re an Angeles girl, are you going to miss the sun? You know they use different numbers for temperature over there, right? How’s it going to feel to wake up in the morning and have some maid tell you that it’s twenty-five degrees outside, so you’d better stay in the shade to keep cool?”

“Kile.” Astra laughed.

“I’m serious. You’re not just choosing a career here, Astra, you’re choosing a life: from the moment you wake up to the moment you fall asleep.” Kile paused and let out a tired sigh. “I just don’t want you to make a big mistake that you can’t undo. I know how badly you want to dance. You’re not ready for this, and even if you were, this wouldn’t be the right choice for you.”

“I’ve changed, Kile.” she wanted to add that he’d changed her. That losing him had made her someone new, someone she didn’t even know yet, but she kept that part to herself. Listening to his voice for so long that night… suddenly she found that she didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

“It’s barely been three months, Astra. You haven’t changed that much.” he promised.

Astra wasn’t sure. Sometimes change was gradual, sure, but sometimes change was all at once. Traumatic change was a sudden shattering of what came before, such that one could never go back again. That was what losing Kile had been like.

But did that mean she wanted to give up dancing and become Andrew’s princess? His queen? His wife and the mother of his heirs? Did she want to leave Illéa forever and eventually move into this palace?

She wanted all of that when she was wrapped up in Andrew’s arms.

But here, alone in the middle of the night when she had her wits about her…

She climbed back into bed and woke Andrew up with steady, gentle kisses. Everything about the love they made that morning was slow and desperate, and even though she hadn’t meant it to, in the end it felt like goodbye.

***

Astra was gone to her final rehearsals before dawn, but later that morning Andrew was true to his word and made a big announcement that he and Astra had both been secretly dating, and were now publicly broken up. He made a good show of wandering around London looking sad that day, and that night he went out to dinner with a fashion model friend, who did not mind the publicity one little bit.

There were still plenty of photographers salivating at the chance to photograph Astra looking dismal at having lost the chance to become an English princess, but at least they were leaving the rest of the dancers, and everyone else associated with the ballet, in peace.

Astra’s parents arrived at the royal palace in time for dinner that night, and Astra had a lot of explaining to do to them. King Eoan and Queen Waverly seemed to find Astra’s discomfort at explaining her affair with Andrew to her parents over roasted asparagus incredibly amusing, and possibly reminiscent of the beginning of their own relationship. It wasn’t fair, though. Andrew missed all the “fun”, making sure it looked like he was rebounding with that gorgeous model.

That night, Astra was too nervous about her impending final performance to wait up for Andrew to get back to the Palace. She could go to bed early or never at all. She drank some tea laced with a little bit of melatonin and fell asleep soon after dinner.

She woke up in Andrew’s arms, her cheek pressed to the side of his bare chest. She listened to him breathe deeply and evenly for a little while and tried one last time.

She could quit dancing.

She could leave Illéa forever.

She could raise her children to be heirs.

Her children could raise their children to be heirs.

When she died, her bones could be interred in a big old church.

Her whole life could be that easy.

God, it would be so easy.

“Andy?” she whispered.

He didn’t stir.

“Andrew?” she tried again, this time pulling away from him and sitting up in bed.

He didn’t hear her, but he reacted to the loss of her warmth, and eventually his heavy eyelids fluttered open. “Astra?”

“What time did you get in last night?”

“This morning.” He admitted, yawning widely. “I expect the tabloids will be plastered with headlines about their debaucherous future king today.”

“Was it any fun?”

“Yeah. Ellie’s great; she’s always happy to be photographed on my arm. Missed you, though.” he added, as if suddenly awake enough to worry that she was jealous.

She wasn’t the slightest bit jealous. Well, the slightest bit, but not for the reasons he would assume. Astra was jealous because Ellie could keep being photographed on Andrew’s arm for as long as she pleased, with no consequences.

“Maybe you should marry Ellie.” Astra suggested.

Andrew laughed, and it turned into a yawn. Then he explained, “Ellie’s too focused on her career right now. And anyway, she’d be far more interested in you.”

“Now that would be a tabloid headline.” Astra joked weakly.

“What’s the matter? Are you nervous for your performance? Is it because you’re leaving England this time tomorrow? Is it because you told your parents what’s been happening between us—“

“I’m not nervous.” Astra said, even though her stomach was in knots. Those weren’t nerves. That was grief. “Andy… I want to be a ballet dancer.”

Andrew sat up in bed now and rubbed the sleep from his eyes so he could focus on her. The words were familiar, but her tone was alarming. “Of course you do. You are a ballet dancer, and you’re bloody brilliant.”

“I want to be a prima ballerina.”

“Okay.”

“That sort of excellence takes years to achieve.”

“Good job you’ve been dancing since you were four years old, then.”

“Shh.” she pressed a finger to his lips so that he would stop talking back and listen to her. He complied. “I won’t be ready to be a prima for seven or eight years. I have a lot to learn. And when I’m ready, I want to be a Prima Ballerina for at least one season, maybe two. That’s every waking hour devoted to dance for two years straight. Then I want to live in Angeles and stay close to Addy in the first few years of her reign. I want to be there when she gets married and has babies, because she is great at putting on a brave face and absolutely terrible at processing the emotions that are scaring her into needing to be brave. She’s going to need me, and I’m excited to be there for her. I can’t live on a different continent than my dad. There can’t such a huge time difference between me and my mom. I can’t be a foreign queen. I don’t want to be foreign at all. Andrew… I can’t marry you.” Her cheeks were wet and her voice cracked, but she didn’t know when, in that little breathless tirade, she’d started crying.

Andrew stared blankly ahead, hugging his knees to his chest around their blanket. He didn’t look surprised. He’d known she was too good to be true all along. Finding his queen could never have been so easy, so perfect. He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up.

“Andy, none of those reasons I gave have anything to do with you. I love you. You’re a good man, and a great partner, and you have no business being such a talented kisser when you’re so handsome. It’s overkill.” she waited for him to smile. She waited for him to do anything. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Andrew. I just can’t marry you. I’m eighteen years old, I just got control of my life. I’m not ready to sign it over to a monarchy. I would love to be your wife, Andy, but I would hate to be your queen.”

Andrew blinked hard, then looked over at her. His voice was too casual, his words were too easy when he said, “I understand entirely. I can wait.”

Astra furrowed her brow, trying to hold his far off gaze. “Wait? What do you mean, wait?”

“You want to be a prima ballerina, and you said it would take you nine or ten years to accomplish your goal. Fine. I will wait, and when you’re ready I’ll ask to marry you.”

“No, Andy—“

“I don’t mind ruling on my own for a while.”

“That’s more than a while! You’ll be king in four years—“

“It isn’t a problem.” he insisted.

“Did you hear the part about what I want to do after I retire? About living in Illéa, about staying close to my family?”

“Astra, once we’re married, you can do whatever you like.”

“But queens have responsibilities.”

“We can redefine the role to mean whatever you’d like it to mean. I don’t care. I love you, Astra, and you’re the best future queen I could ever hope for.”

Astra paused, blinking hard against the tears in her eyes. It hurt to hear him say that. It hurt to realize that he didn’t believe he deserved any better. “Andy, that’s not true. You deserve a wife who will stay by your side. You deserve a wife who adores you and would be willing to sacrifice her own ambitions to serve England. I’m not good enough to be your queen.”

“Then no one ever will be.”

“Andrew—“

“Let me wait for you, Astra, please.” His voice broke on that last work, his eyes finally meeting hers and betraying his anguish. “Let me hope. It’s all that I have left.”

Astra couldn’t figure out what would be crueler, to let him hope when she’d made up her mind, or to take that hopeless hope away from him.

So she wrapped him up in her arms and they laid down. She combed her fingers through his hair and he brushed his thumb against her ribs until her alarm clock rang and her last day in London began.

***

In retrospect, Astra should have chosen a happy, upbeat, peppy song for her exhibition. She could have flounced all over the stage and spun a ridiculous number of times on her toes, and allowed her partner to toss her all over the place with an enormous smile on her face.

Instead, she’d chosen an exhibition from a ballet about a woman mourning her dead lover, dancing with his ghost. She’d been thinking of Kile when she’d chosen it, hoping it would help her work out her feelings about their doomed childhood romance. Now she was about to take the stage of the royal ballet, with Andrew and his parents in the royal box, watching her close enough that she could see the pained look on Andrew’s face as clear as anything.

Astra and her dance partner, Geoffrey, took their place while the stage was lit in nothing but the darkest of blue lights. He laid down across on their only set piece, an enormous fake rock, and Astra settled over him in a dramatic pose of despair, arm flung over her forehead.

The first part of the dance was hers alone. Her grief, her agony, her desperation. None of it was fake. When Geoffrey arose, as a ghost, and began dancing with her, the bittersweet mixture of joy and sorrow was easy to tap into. Nothing brought her more joy than dancing, and nothing brought her more sorrow in that moment than Andrew watching her live the life she’d chosen over him.

When Geoffrey faded back into the fog upstage and left Astra alone again in the center of the stage, all the passion and desperation fled with him. The rest of the dance was small and slow, painfully precise movements timed with the orchestra just so that if she made the slightest misstep, it would be immediately, embarrassingly obvious.

But Astra did not have to fake the exhaustion and resignation her character was feeling. If she allowed herself to second guess her decision to break away from Andrew now, she’d second guess it forever. The roar of the audience as the last tremulous notes from the string section died away seemed to make a deafening contrast.

Astra was surprised to find tears had started pouring down her cheeks somewhere during that performance. Geoffrey returned and took her hand, and they bowed. As was customary for this exhibition, several members of the audience threw flowers onto the stage. From the third row, Astra’s dad threw a whole bouquet, and a little teddy bear. Astra laughed as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then she turned to the royal box to curtsey, perfectly observing royal protocol, and was startled to find that Andrew had been crying, too.

He tossed her a single white rose with a beautiful red satin ribbon tied around the stem, but the look on his face was resignation. He could love her with all of his heart for all of his life and still never be able to give her the kind of affirmation she got from a packed theater full of an adoring audience. He��d seen her dance dozens of times in her room at her little palace, and hell, he’d even danced with her himself. But seeing her like this in front of them…

He could wait until the oceans ran dry and the mountains fell flat, and every single star in the sky flickered into darkness… Astra was never coming back to him.

Astra spent that night with her parents, letting them gush over her and spoil her with presents, and help her pack up the life she’d made in London for the last few months. She hoped Andrew would come and say goodbye once her parents went back to the suite they were staying in, but he never appeared, and Astra didn’t chase him down because she thought he deserved to set the terms. That dance had been her goodbye to him. It was up to him whether he wanted to say goodbye in return.

The next morning, Queen Waverly was the only one in the entrance hall waiting to see the Orders family off as they left. The English Royal jet would take them as far as Carolina, where they would visit James’ family for a little while.

Astra imagined Andrew’s private car speeding out onto the tarmac to stop them. She imagined him dashing from the backseat and waving his arms to alert the pilots that they couldn’t leave until he’d said his farewells.

He didn’t come. It was easier this way.

Kenna and James stayed with Astra’s grandparents for a few days, but James had to go back to work and Kenna needed to get back to the Palace. Aunt Ames had five children, two of them under the age of six, and though they had plenty of help in that Palace, Kenna was their primary nanny, their aunt, and she missed them like crazy.

Astra stayed with her grandparents for a couple of weeks, until her contract at the Waverly Ballet began. The media frenzy around her got much better in that time, though it was impossible not to notice that things were staying hectic around Andrew as the English tabloids seemed to catch on to how severely he’d had his heart broken.

Astra wished she could take some of that public shame away.

She wished she could take some of his pain away, even as she was mending her own broken heart. Her weeks in Carolina were good for that purpose. Her grandparents spoiled her rotten, and she gave her body a much-needed break from dancing. Instead, she spent her days learning needlepoint from her grandmother, and her nights stargazing out by the pond where her parents used to sneak off on dates before Gramma Magda gave up trying to convince Kenna to marry someone from a higher caste.

When Astra packed her bags to take the short flight up to Waverly to begin yet another new life with another new ballet company, she was still wearing the beautiful red ribbon that Andrew gave her as a parting gift on that rose, tied around her wrist.

And when, years later, she sat on her sofa and watched him become King of England in front of the entire world, her fingers traced that now slightly frayed red ribbon, Andy’s last gift to her, in a familiar, much-practiced gesture.

It would have been so easy to say yes, to give in to the pressure and let herself get swept away by the English people, the royal traditions, the prince’s staggering blue eyes. It would have been a good life, too. A perfectly fine marriage.

But Astra didn’t want to be queen, and now she wouldn’t have to be, and the freedom she felt watching Andrew bear the weight of that crown was all the reminder she needed: she made the right decision. And now, despite the dull ache of longing in her chest for he boy she’d loved and left behind, she was happy. Truly happy. She was at peace with her past, content in her present, and excited for her future.

When the coronation coverage ended, Astra got ready to return to bed. She was surprised when her phone rang, but she knew exactly who it would be.

“Mom?” she said, before the person on the other line could say a word. Her little cousins would have had just enough time to be tucked back into bed by now, if Aunt May was helping. Kenna would have rushed to the phone as soon as she got the chance.

“Sweetie? How are you, little bug?”

“I’m fine, Mom, I don’t need the pet names.” Astra grinned, rolling her eyes.

“Are you sure?” Kenna double-checked.

“Yeah. I wish Andrew wasn’t alone up there. I still love him, I don’t want him to suffer. But I was nothing but relieved when they put that crown on his head and I didn’t have to put one on mine. I made the right choice.”

“I know you did, honey, but just because you did the right thing doesn’t mean you have to feel perfectly fine about it. Especially not on a night like this.”

“Honestly, Mom… my time in London feels like another life. One I’m nothing but grateful for, but not one I want to relive.”

At first, Astra’s spring with Andrew felt like it had never really happened, or like it had happened to someone else, or like it was all a fever dream: too hot, too heady, a surreal hallucination more than a fairytale fantasy. But now, with some time and space, Astra could see it for what it really was: a romantic affair with someone she could have chosen to marry, but who ultimately was not the right fit for her. On the one hand, Astra and Andrew loved each other, and their marriage would have been fine: they’d known each other forever and they each fully understood the challenges of the royal life they would have been embarking on together.

On the other hand, Astra had known what she wanted out of life since she was a very small girl. It was a hard thing to ask an eighteen year old to walk away from a guaranteed royal wedding for a chance to work very hard to one day, possibly, make her dream come true. If Astra hadn’t grown up in Illéa Palace, she might not have made the same choice. But everything she got out of her life from now on was truly hers, she was the captain of her own fate, and even if she failed and never became a prima ballerina, at least this way she’d have had the chance.

“But Mom?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t ever tell Gramma Magda that Andrew proposed to me and I turned him down. I think she would disown me.”

#challenge #Astra and Andrew Challenge #RIP your dashes if the Keep Reading doesn't work #its almost 16000 words long #one for every tear I cried breaking Andrew's heart

33 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 5 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction || He Stops Your Wedding [Part Two] [BFF Series]

a/n: Thank you to the anon that reminded me this existed, I forgot lmaooooooo PART ONE

Seokjin:

After Jin admitted his feelings to you, you felt like you couldn't move from where you were standing. The door to the changing room opened and Jin looked over his shoulder to see your parents who looked like they wanted to talk to you,

"I'll give you a minute." He walked out and you stared at the floor while they spoke to you, not listening to a single thing they were saying to you. All you could think about was Jin and what he'd said to you. Admitted to you.

"Mum, I have to go." You whispered taking the dress from the hanger and walking out of the church and in the direction of your car. You were going to make good on your promise to burn the dress. Weddings were for fools.

(X)

"Y/N?!" You heard Jin screaming, you frowned standing up from the bench in your back garden to see him trying to climb the fence to your back garden.

"Jin?" You frowned walking over to him and opening the gate and letting him inside so he wouldn't hurt himself by climbing over.

"Stop leaving your phone on silent it worries me...I thought something bad had happened." He grumbled shutting the gate and following you into the garden. You handed him a beer and he looked at the burning bin, inside were parts of your wedding dress that you'd spent the night chopping and ripping up into pieces.

"You burnt it?" You nodded and sat on the bench waiting for him to sit down next to you, you stared up at him.

"Did you mean it? What you said, earlier..." You questioned looking back at the fire once he sat down next to you,

"Every word." You nodded and sipped on the bottle of beer, staring at the flames.

"It'll take me a while before I'm ready to...actually date but I want you to know I've always loved you too Jin." You admitted to him, staring down at your hands and wanting to reach out and hold him but you didn't know if it would be a good idea.

"I'll wait for you." He promised, linking his fingers with yours and smiling as you blushed at the action.

"Want to throw some of this onto the fire? It's quite satisfying." You told him as you held up some of the white fabric for him to take, he chuckled before throwing some onto the fire. Watching as the fabric shrivelled up and continued to burn along with everything else you had in there.

"I think I have more photos of him in the attic I can go and get." You mumbled to Jin, leaning your head on his shoulder a natural action between you both that you did long before he admitted his feelings for you.

"We should save them for another night, it's getting late and cold. Don't want you getting sick." He whispered, taking the bottle of empty beer from your hands and making plans to throw it away.

"Do you want to stay over tonight? I don't want to be alone." You told him as you lifted your head from his shoulder, staring up to the house you would have been sharing with your husband.

"Are you sure?" You nodded and placed the lid to the burning bin on top and walked with Jin towards your house, him throwing the bottles away once he got to the bin and you making sure to lock the doors before you both went up to bed.

Yoongi:

You were wearing one of Jimin's shirts from the car and a pair of shorts from Namjoon that didn't fit you but you didn't care. All you cared about was throwing away that stupid dress and finding Yoongi,

"He's at the beach," Namjoon said looking up from his phone as Jimin changed his route, Namjoon hitting in the beach location on the Sat Nav and you got ready for a long drive with them.

"Does he know I'm with you?" Namjoon shook his head at you and you nodded, deciding it was probably best to keep it that way. Not wanting Yoongi to run off again.

(X)

By the time you reached the beach, it was pitch black outside it was almost midnight and you wondered if he would still be sitting there but Namjoon told you he was and you went on the hunt for him.

"Nice weather we're having." You joked trying to break the ice, he stayed silent as he stared at the waves in front of him. You sat down beside him and pulled your knees against your chest, trying to stay warm since you were in nothing but a short-sleeve shirt and some shorts.

"Yoongi what you said at the church-"

"I didn't say I loved you to hear it back, I said it to make sure you knew." He told you before you could even tell him what you'd been thinking on the drive over.

"That's a shame...I was going to go on this long explanation about how much I loved you too." You sighed, brushing the sand off your hands and turning to look at him. He was already staring into your eyes as you spoke and was studying your face, probably searching for any signs of lying. He'd known you so long he knew when you were lying and you weren't,

"You do?" You nodded,

"I'm not going to say 'I do,' but yes, I love you too." You admitted to him, he pulled you closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, wrapping his arm around your waist as he felt you shivering.

"Can we go to the car, I'm freezing." You stuttered and he helped you stand up, finally looking at what you were wearing and frowned.

"No wonder you're frozen." He slipped off his blazer and laid it over your shoulders.

"Thanks." You mumbled slowly walking back towards the car with him, hands slipping into each other silently and smiling at the action.

Hoseok:

Finding a flight straight after Hoseok's was hard, you were going to be late and you didn't have your phone to reach him on and tell him you were coming. You were hoping that once you got to New York everything would fall into place and you'd be able to figure out a gameplan, maybe find a payphone and ring Namjoon. The only mobile number you knew by heart since he was the one you called the most whenever you couldn't find Hoseok. You couldn't relax the whole plane journey, you were busy staring out of the window to try and make time pass. Watching movies but that didn't help either, it seemed like the flight was taking forever.

(X)

Namjoon picked you up from the airport with a driver and you were heading straight to the next concert venue together,

"He's been a wreck, what happened?" You shook your head at Namjoon, not wanting to answer any questions. You wanted to get there and talk to Hoseok before you talked to anyone else about it.

"Changing room, he's alone," Jungkook said once he saw you and Namjoon heading his way, they both left you alone and you walked straight into the room. Hosoek was sat with his back to the door, crying into his hands and you sighed,

"You can't keep it all bottled up you know, bottling it up won't do you any good." You jumped down on the sofa next to him and he stared at you in disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" You stared at him with a smirk,

"You invited me remember."

"You said no." You shook your head.

"Actually I didn't say anything, I was telling you to stop rushing me and I went to say goodbye to my mum and you left..." He stared at you and you bit down on your lip.

"I wanted to come with you because I love you too dummy, I've loved you since we met." He wasted no time pulling you onto his lap and kissing you, his hands exploring every inch of your body, not caring if someone walked in or that he had to be on stage in less than five minutes.

"I'll be here when you finish, I won't go anywhere." You told him as you pulled away, smirking as he kissed your cheeks getting up to leave the changing room.

Namjoon:

Namjoon woke up later that day to an empty bed, he looked around the room and there was no sign of you ever being there. The dress he'd ripped from your body was gone, your shoes were gone too and he groaned. He'd spent the most amazing morning with you and now you were gone as if it meant nothing to you.

"Hi...I don't know if you're going to talk to me but call me when you get this, congratulations I guess?" He threw the phone against the bed and groaned holding his hands over his face at the thought of you just leaving him without a word, a text or even a note.

(X)

He made his way down the stairs, wanting to get something to eat when he could smell something cooking. He was sure he hadn't invited one of the members over and he rushed down the stairs to find you standing in the kitchen in his shirt, he stared at you from the kitchen counter. Watching as you swung your hips from side to side happily to the soft music that was playing in the background, he made his way over to you and placed his hands on your hips making you jump a little.

"Hi, Joonie." You cooed relaxing under his grasp and he smirked kissing your neck and then looking at what you were doing. You were making pancakes in the shape of hearts and bacon was cooking in another pan.

"I thought you left." He admitted to you, moving his hands off your body and standing back against the kitchen table as he watched you working.

"Didn't need to, cancelled everything over the phone. Lots of people pissed off but I don't care." You told him, plating up the food and sitting it in front of him.

"I went out to meet my mum and him, had to give the ring back but I explained everything..." He stared at you as you frowned at the floor, he wondered if you were having second thoughts on this but once he saw you smile his mind was at ease.

"He understood, kind of scared me that he was so understanding about it though." You laughed softly and Namjoon wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your cheek.

Jimin:

The moment you told your husband-to-be you wanted to call it off everything went downhill. He dragged you out of his changing room and into the church full of people. All turning to look at you as you tried to struggle from his grasp on your wrist, but it was no use he was holding it tight and Jimin came out to see what everyone was gasping at.

"This one has decided she wants to call the whole thing off." He threw you onto the floor and you were on your knees in front of everyone, everyone staring down at you as your eye filled up with tears. It was mostly his family and friends in the church, yours hadn't arrived yet, Jimin came closer to help you stand up by your husband pushed him away.

"This whore is leaving me for him." You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks and you got up to your feet again, only to be pushed back down by your ex-fiancée staring up at the crowd in the church.

"Is there any wonder she's leaving you?! Look at how you're treating her!" Jimin yelled coming to your side and helping you stand up, turning to look at the man you were supposed to marry and shaking his head at him.

"Come on, I'll take you home," Jimin said walking you through the aisle, you kept your eyes trained on the floor not wanting to see everyone staring up at you and Jimin kept his hands on yours to pull you through the church.

"You okay?" He asked once he got you in the car and you nodded, it was clearly a lie because you were crying silently and he hated seeing you this way.

"We'll go home, get changed and then I'll take you somewhere to get your mind off it." You nodded again and he started up the car, driving down the highway to get you home as quickly as possible.

Taehyung:

He took you to his apartment, rushing through to get clothes together. You not leaving his side once, clutching his hand in yours whenever you heard a car drive past or the door open.

"It's just the boys, they're getting the big car ready. I'll get you out of here." He told you as he pulled you down the staircase and into the garage, throwing his bag in Jimin's direction who was handing you some clothes.

"Go and get changed." You stared at the clothes in your hand and Tae took you to the bathroom, turning around to look at the wall while you got changed into the sweatpants and top that Jimin was giving you to wear.

"Tae where are we going to go?" You asked one you were dressed and Tae turned to look at you, he ran his hand over your cheek and sighed.

"I'll take you to the summer house, and we can stay there and figure out a plan...Do you want to talk about it?" You shook your head and took his hand in yours as you walked through the house down to the garage.

"No." You told him as you got into the car, him sitting in the driver's seat and staring at you,

"Can we just be together like old times..." He started the car up and drove out of the garage, running away with your best friend and love of your life seemed like the best option right now.

Jungkook:

The door to the bedroom opened and you husband-to-be stood there watching as you made out with Jungkook, who was the first one to pull away and stare at your boyfriend who was now staring at you.

"What do you think you're doing?!" He yelled pulling you off the bed by your hair and dropping you on the floor, you stared up at him with tears in your eyes, in pain from the hair-pulling but not wanting to let him know that he was hurting you.

"Kissing Kookie obviously." You mumbled looking up at Jungkook who looked ready to beat up your boyfriend for pulling you the way he did,

"What did I say I would do if You were a slut like that again?!" He yelled pushing you to kneel on the floor, pushing your head against the cold flooring and not letting go.

"Let her go!" Jungkook yelled pushing your boyfriend off you and out of the room,

"Kookie." You yelled getting up from the floor to stop him from beating up your boyfriend who was trying to swing for Jungkoook.

"Leave and don't come back...If I find out you're even thinking about coming to see her I'll kill you!" Jungkook warned and your now ex-boyfriend walked down the stairs, grumbling something about how you'll regret it later when the boy can't please you.

"Thanks Kookie." You whispered to him as he locked the front door behind your ex-boyfriend.

"No problem, let's get you some water and something to eat and then put you to bed." You nodded and followed him into the kitchen as he made you something to eat, watching as he smiled at you and then handed you the food.

"I love you." You whispered to him, he kissed your nose.

"I love you too."

Tagline:

@yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @yourguessisasgoodasminemate @babymochichimmy @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @callingmyangel

188 notes · View notes

muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

Text

𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻 ❤︎

A/n: My moot from twitter made a whole thread that what if Harry wrote sunflower vol6. for some fan, she wanted the idea in words so here ya go!

Crowd just to admire Harry, cheering, loving, showering him in their evermost affection.

Harry performs like he was born for this; a punk rockstar with a flower crown on his head, bout to dominate the world just from his kindness.

After performing three songs he was engulfing in conversation with his fans and he points towards you but your friends gestures if he wants to talk to her.

You're wearing a pastel dress with hues of yellow accessories. You're so red in your own way, popping out from the crowd in the bloody bold way but you're shy and skittish around people.

You're just dancing along with your bestie, swaying your hips to only angel and then doing your own sexy moves to show your friend making fun of it afterwards.

Harry couldn't snatch his focus from you and the band noticed it so they teased him, tsking at him and mouthing him his pet name 'wep' under the loud shrivels of their guitars.

You wouldn't deny that you wanted to catch his attention too but you don't know how to.

Everyone's complementing him in their fondest way and whenever you parted your plump glossy lips to shout something nothing came out.

While playing guitar, Harry gazes at you intensely his brows furrowing when he sees that your bestfriend cupped your face to say something in your ear.

He's so fuckin' jealous. He wants to be there to cup your face, stroke you and maybe kiss you.

You looks so damn kissable. He thinks you're so golden beaming around the pink sky.

Now, when he's asking your friend's name out glancing at you from the corner of his eyes your heart drops. English isn't your first language, and this made your hands shake at the side.

You don't wanna fuck this up.

"What's your pretty name darlin'?" He smiles at you feeling a bit shy from your peer that's nothing but anxiousness, Sara and Mitch exchange looks with eachother while Harry waited patiently to get your calm voice to reach to him because at this point he can do everything.

"Y/n-y/n!" You're far from him so you shouted and it stuttered making you even more blush like a coral stone.

Fuckin' beautiful name, just like her Harry's heart gave a beat.

He doesn't want to dissapoint you by taking your name wrong, you're too precious to pronounce you differently that's why he reminisced your name many times under his breath before taking it.

"Y/n, right?" You bobbed your head a bit loosening up and smiling coyly fuck Harry wants to flop at ground just at this, "soo where are you from ba- y/n?"

"Not from here!" You told him now properly locking your eyes and Harry noticed your eyes colour's so common but looks so rare on you.

Harry mimicked you doing his comic accent, "No- Not from here, that's why asked ye' from where!?!" The crowd cheered and you laughed clutching your sides telling your country name.

"I hope you're havin' a good time, y/n." He grins combing his loose curls back and sipping his water, then throwing the water on the crowd intentionally so it would reach you and he could dive in another cute moment of you.

The whole show went like this but he wants you more than singing his melodies to you and he notices that you're getting exhausted and tired but utterly overloaded with cuteness forgetting lyrics to every other song now and then, your shoes aching you so you sat down but he jolts in panic thinking you just fell and is afraid you'll come under everyone's feet.

But when you again stood up he practically heaved shaking his to scold him that he shouldn't do this, he'll end up hurting himself from missing you and thinking about you everytime.

Getting attached too soon is Harry's weak point.

The show ended and he wanted to call you backstage but you were long gone leaving your sunflower-ey coral sunshine behind.

Harry went through his breakup going to Japan to give him his own solace, he went through his journal where he has written all his songs and his eyes fell over the cursive words he lovingly wrote on this specific side of his journal.

He wrote a song about you right after running backstage. Kid Harpoon wanted to make some changes in the lyrics but Harry criticised that no changes will be made in this particular song, he doesn't care if it's a hit or not, this came straight out of his heart and it matters alot to him.

One day he was wandering in london when you marched from a bookshop bumping square into one person you couldn't possibly imagine, Harry.

Your canvases, books, brushes everything flew to ground and Harry's on cloud nine a feeling of when he did shrooms spreads in his chest.

"Sorry. Shit yeah." You both said in unison squatting down to collect your things.

Your heads hitting and you giggled making Harry giggle too.

"Kay there's this saying in my culture that if your forehead gets hit by another person you should hit it twice else horns grows on your head." Your eyes glinting and he shakes his head gently pressing his head against yours.

He saw your fingers shaking so he again muttered a 'sorry' feeling bad for no-reason.

"Is it your painting?" He asked and you nodded taking the canvas from him, his touch's so soft you've only imagined it or heard from the people who met him that he has the softest warmest touch. "It's beautiful."

You're in awe of him. Ofcourse you love him but you don't know how much Harry's in love with you.

He's in awe of your talent too, he knew you'd love to paint from how vivid you're. It's one of the things he imagined bout you before going to bed.

Harry was taken aback by your respect for his consent when you asked him if you could hug him and he opened his arms wide for you.

"C'mere darlin'." Million sparks shooted inside his body when you coiled your arms around his neck because of your height, he's so happy he wants to cry.

Fuck this he wants you to be his and he's gonna drag his arse for it.

He sniffed in your shampoo and scent which's vanilla, strawberries and galaxies.

"Umm..y/n would you like to grab a coffee with me?" You are appalled. you never thought he'd remember you but who's gonna tell you that you were his only thought and the dream of his heart.

"Sure! Thank you." You beamed walking alongside of him to the nearest café.

Harry thinks you're so kind that maybe you felt rude to reject his offer but this's just his anxiety.

Anyways you talked to him about things he didn't know, you asked him how life's going even though his life's all where on the headlines.

You've never drank black coffee in your life but ordered it from the embarrassment of judgment from him and when you sipped it you practically gagged.

"Wanna swap, I just took a sip?"

"Thank you never drank black coffee in my life." He didn't asked you why but you yourself told him sipping from his and it's mocha sweet as him, "not very much common where I used to live."

Harry wants to get to know you more. About your culture, your interests and specifically just you.

"There's this get-together at my home this Saturday, would you like to come it's okay if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous.

"I'd love too!" You smiled even though you're all jittery from inside. You don't know what's happening but you're just going along with it.

"Kay. See ya there." He took your hand writing his number inside your palm and he swear that he felt like he dipped his hand into a sweet pudding when he held you.

You got ready with feathery makeup and simple outfit, you haven't told anyone that you met Harry. You've baked cupcakes for him because your mother has always taught you to never go empty hand to someone's house.

All the expensive cars parked at his driveway wanted to make you cry, you're so nervous.

Harry's nervy too he lectured everyone not to suffocate you and give her some space knowing how lovey-dovey his friends could be.

"And don't call me pet names infront her." He seriously told Jeff who offered him tequila but he pushed it away, there's no way he's getting drunk today. "Okay foof." Jeff patted him hardly.

"Hmm. Plannin' to become someone else's baby." Sara laughed sitting comfortably between mitch's legs and Harry shakes his head shyly snapping when the door bell rang.

He was out of breath when you were infront of him. He hugged you kissing your cheek and you took in his smell trying to calm yourself.

"Y'okay?" He frowned caringly placing his hands on your shoulders, your eyes are glassy that's why he asked.

Clearing your throat you handed him the cupcakes nodding and smiling, "yes umm here."

"Hi love!" Everyone greeted you and hugged you.

Harry was acting quite selfish taking the cupcakes inside his kitchen to eat them all to himself and when he came back you were chatting with his friends quite enjoying their company.

His mind crawls to the thought of you in between his embrace while his friends becomes your friends and you spending festives together, you hanging out with him at the places you love to be at.

You were praising their talents and then Harry's and he didn't miss the glimmer of admiration in your eyes for him.

"You're quite such a fan of Harry." One of his friends says and you just nodded not knowing what else to say. To everyone else you're just a fan that Harry invited to his home.

Harry glared him. The last thing he wanted to make you feel was invadilate your caring, humble and nice feelings towards not just Harry but to everyone.

"Can I steal y/n for a second?" Harry asked smiling down at you and Sarah spat playfully, "she's all yours."

"Uhh..thank you for these." He pointed at the delights you baked for him swelling his heart at your care and you shook your head.

"I love these on you." He indicated to the pearls around your neck. Hooking your finger to unclasp it you mumbled, "do you want it?"

But didn't waited for his answer and secured it around his neck. Shivers running down Harry's spine when the pads of your fingers brushed the baby curls over the nape of his neck.

"Thank you so much." Harry thinks he can't thank you enough. You just keep on giving him reasons to owe you, this's the perfect opportunity to love you and let you know.

He took you to his bedroom quickly going to his wardrobe and you looked around, he has frames of his family and his recently ex-girlfriend.

You don't know about her that deep but you know he was deeply in love with her, if ever you know how much he loves you.

In his recent interview he talked about how he met this person and the new album's all about exploring relationship. You think so the new songs will be about her, she really's so ravishing.

He came back sitting close to you and before you even properly look at him he locked a necklace around you.

A sunflower necklace falling between the valley of your cleavages. Harry has bought this for you in the hope that you'll meet him sometimes in this world again and wore it around his neck during the whole writing process of his album.

You opened the brass golden sunflower and it had 'you're my sunflower' encarved on it.

"You're the only cloud in my mind, the only dream of my heart. Can't stop thinkin' bout you it's been two years." You rubbed soothing circles at his knee closing distance between you two while he confessed his feelings for you.

"Please let me love you.." There was a crease on his forehead and you massaged it away smiling weakly at him because you don't think so if your heart's beating.

"I'm all yours to love." He whined at your words grasping you in his arms and shoving his face inside the crook of your neck.

"Can I kiss ye'?" He asked you and you intervined you fingers in his shaky ones.

Lips brushing his and his eyes fluttered close just at the approximty.

He placed your legs on both side of his torso flushing your chests together and peppering kisses all over your face carefully.

Pressing your temples against eachother when his lips were mere away from yours, and when you molded your hand around his face he leaned into kiss you.

Giving a hot swipe to the cupid bow of your lip, tasting every inch of you. Hands everywhere, kissed you and kissed you and kissed you until you weren't breathing his name.

"Fuck. Tastes just as I imagined." Your head fell against his toned pecs and he placed his lips over your hair hugging you tight for you could become one. His.

"M'little sunflower."

#imagines #harry styles blurb #harry styles #fluff #sunflower vol. 6 #cute harry

32 notes · View notes

wayward-mikaelson · 4 years ago

Text

When You’re Gone

Word Count: 4319

About: Reversed situation of How To Save A Life. What would happen if it were you reeling from Steve Roger’s death

Characters: Reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Character Death, Blood and Inury, Blood and Gore, Depressed Reader, Time Jump, Surprise Ending

A/N: This popped into my head while listening to Avril Lavinge’s When You’re Gone. I knew that I knew I needed to get this down because I needed to know how the reader would react when the love of her life died in the explosion. Would she wallow or would she try to get back to somewhat a normal life?

Song: When You’re Gone By Avril Lavigne

*This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd.

**Please DO NOT copy and paste my work anywhere WITHOUT my permission and WITHOUT giving me credit. I work too hard on my work and would hate to have it stolen. You obviously can share the link.

***This work is also posted on Instagram (excerpt), WattPad, and Archive Of Our Own. Go show it some love over there too please.

****Go follow my other accounts. Links can be found in the pinned post on my profile.

*****Currently NOT taking any requests.

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Forever Marvel Tags: Open Tags

Steve Rogers/Chris Evans Tags: Open Tags

My Masterlist

My Marvel Masterlist

How To Save A Life

My Favorite Fic List

“I’ll be fine Babe,” You stared into Steve’s worried eyes as you turned away. But you turned back, “Don’t forget, we have those dinner reservations tonight.” You added and saw a slight smile and shine in Steve’s eyes. Enough for you to turn around and head on up to do a walk around.

You had been excited for this dinner Steve had planned. He had waltzed right into the room four days ago and had told you that he made those reservations. He didn’t tell you where, just when. He had done this a few times before so you loved the mystery behind it. You thought it was romantic. That’s probably why you were attracted to Steve that very first day.

You took the stairs two at a time, while lost in your thoughts. The agent behind you, despite the muscle and looking like a body builder, had a hard time keeping up with you. You opened the door to the eight floor and began to look around. Making sure that everything was good and nothing suspicious were hidden away.

“Hey, do you think you can slow down some?” the agent asked, clearly out of breath.

“If you can’t keep up, then you need to find a new fucking line of work,” you shot at him. You half excepted to hear Steve tell you to watch your language but, you didn’t. He was probably too occupied with the mission to say anything.

“Yes ma’am,” the agent replied back.

Something made you stop dead in your tracks. You stood in the middle of the room when you felt your body grow cold. The pit that was in your stomach early that morning returned. It tightened around in your stomach more, making you feel sick.

Something was wrong.

Something was going to happen.

***

You stopped chopping the carrots. You set the knife you held aside and rested your head in your hands. You rubbed your face as you recalled the events of that nightmare day. You didn’t want to think about it but, the memories would hit you hard and randomly throughout the day.

Over time, you had gotten better at pushing them aside to try and finish the task you had at hand. So that’s what you tried to do. You took a deep breath and looked up from your hands. You saw Wanda, your best friend in the entire world standing there. The look on her face reflected what you were feeling deep down. She knew how you were truly feeling. You couldn’t hide it from her.

Wanda walked over to you and pulled you into her arms. “I’m sorry,” she said softly, brushing her hand down your long hair. “It’ll get easier over time.”

“I don’t think it ever will,” you whispered. “I feel so empty and cold all the time.” It was true. You felt like you had this huge hole in your chest that you couldn’t seem to fill. You were always so cold that no matter what you did, you could never get warm.

“I know, I know,” Wanda cooed into your ear. “Think of a happy memory you had with him. That helped me when I lost my brother.”

You closed your eyes and remembered when you first kissed Steve. It was one of your favorite memories that you held close to your heart.

Tony called a late briefing, and it took everything in you to not tell him to go fuck himself. Your body had been killing you and all you wanted to do was relax in a nice warm bath or just pass out on your bed. But you saw Steve rolls his eyes and walk into the conference room. You weren’t alone.

The whole meeting, you saw from the corner of your eyes that Steve looked at you. You either kept your eyes on your notepad or on the speaker. Tony talked about stuff that you clearly couldn’t understand because science wasn’t your strong suit in school. Bruce would cut in and correct him or add onto something. You hoped that the meeting would end soon. For Tony’s or Bruce’s sake.

Finally when the meeting came to a close, you got up and walked out to the court yard. You wanted to stretch your legs and breath in the night air before calling it a night. You heard the doors open and the familiar sound of Steve’s shoe hit the pavement. You smiled to yourself like a giddy little school girl.

“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” He had asked. So gentlemen like.

“Yeah,” you felt your cheeks flush and you know that Steve would be able to see it in the bright moonlight. But you didn’t care.

The two of you talked for a few more hours about whatever came to mind. You listened to Steve tell some embarrassing tales about Bucky and you promised that you wouldn’t tell anyone else. You laughed so hard, that you had to think back to when someone this handsome had made you laugh that hard.

It had been awhile.

“Let me walk you back to your room,” Steve stood up with you and offered his arm.

You stared at him, your thoughts running with scenario after scenario. Steve stared back and you could only wish what was going through his head. Then Steve turned slightly and had your face in his hands. He pulled your face gently to his and pressed his lips to yours. You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck.

In that moment, you knew your heart found epic, true love.

***

Finally, finishing the fifth and final floor you still couldn’t shake that deep pit in your stomach. You only had a few more floors until you were out of the building and the agent with you was much more annoying than anything else in the world.

“How’s it looking up there?” Steve’s voice rang in your ear. You smiled and let out a breath of air.

Steve was okay.

Steve was alive.

But the pit in your stomach remained.

“We’re all clear up here,” you said into your wrist. You wanted to add that the agent with you was a pain in the ass but this mission was almost done. So you didn’t even bother. “We’re just passing through the fourth floor.” You stopped and smirked. “Shouldn’t be too much longer, Captain.” You could already picture Steve’s face starting to turn a deep shade of red. You knew what calling him Captain did to him. You didn’t even care that the rest of the team could have heard you.

Everyone knew that Captain America was fucking you for that last few years.

“Move faster Agent Y/L/N,” the way Steve had said your name, sent shivers down your spine. You felt the familiar ache in between your legs. Steve knew how to play this game well.

“Could you guys not?” the agent behind you said. “We’re working here. Save it for the bedroom.”

You turned to see him raising an eyebrow. You wanted to smack it off his face so fucking bad that you had your fists clenched. You could have done this walk through by yourself but you knew protocol. You had to have a partner go up with you. You closed the distance between you and the agent and stared up into this dark eyes. You saw fear flicker in them. Good, you thought. He knew who had the bigger set of balls in this room.

“You’re lucky I’m in somewhat of a good mood. Otherwise, I would kick your ass right here.” You grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked his face down to your level. “The team wouldn’t even care. Better yet, Fury wouldn’t give a flying fuck.”

You let go of the agent and turned on your heels. This mission was almost over. You’d be back at the compound cuddling up with Steve before going out to dinner. You didn’t have time to deal with the agent whose minutes were numbered. You reached for the door leading to the stairwell when you were suddenly thrown back with a loud explosion surrounding you. Your body hit a table and your fell to the ground.

“Y/N?!” You heard the panic in Steve’s voice. You couldn’t find your voice because you hurt just about everywhere. “Y/N, sweetheart? Can you hear me? Are you okay?” Steve’s voice shook with panic in your ear. It was a matter of time before he went in after you. Which he would be stupid to do.

You got onto all fours and looked up and saw the agent had been been killed on impact. Fuck, you thought. He had been annoying but you never wanted him dead. Maybe bruised and battered up. Never dead. The pain in your arms caused you to collapse. You rolled over, finally able to find your voice.

“Steve…” you groaned before loosing consciousness.

***

Your eyes opened and you were still sitting in the shower with your legs drawn up to your chest. The water had grown cold and your fingertips were shriveled up prunes. You stood up and turned the water off and wrapped up in a towel.

Stepping out of the shower, you noticed in the mirror how red and puffy your eyes had been. After two months you still bawled your eyes out. Crying and the pain you felt, even though you hated the feeling, it was the only reminder that Steve Rogers had been real. His love for you, you didn’t ever want to forget that feeling.

You thought about all the times you and Steve made love. He took his time with you. He made sure to always kiss every part of your body. He made sure to let his hands linger in all the right places just to toy with you and make you squirm under him. You would claw at his back when he hit all the right spots while inside of you. Your lips would mold slowly together while coming down from the high of both your orgasms. Just long enough before being pulled into his arms before drifting off to sleep.

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your face. God, you missed that feeling. You wondered if you would ever be that close to someone again. You hardly doubted it. A love like that, that was always a once in a life time kind of thing.

***

You woke with the sound of metal groaning and pieces of the the room falling around you. You heard the faint voices of people shouting but you couldn’t make out who they were. There was a ringing in your ears and shook your head to make it stop.

You attempted to get up but you realized something was pinning you down. You sat up a bit and saw a slab of ceiling pinning your lower half. That slab should have crushed your legs but you noticed a wooden table sticking under it. You let your head fall back on the ground. You were stuck and alone.

“The fuck I’m not,” you heard a familiar voice yell. “I’m not leaving your ass in here.” It was Bucky. You weren’t alone. If Bucky was here, then Steve had to be too. Opening your mouth, you tried to say something but nothing came out.

More debris fell. “Buck,” Steve’s voice rang out clear and it was closer than you imagined. “I’m not going to-“ Then he stopped. You wondered what made him stop talking. “Bucky!” There was a hint of joy in his voice. “Get over here. I found her.”

Within minutes the heaviness was lifted off you. The look of relief flooded Steve’s face as he knelt down and brushed the loose hair from your face. The biggest smile spread across this face as he gathered you into his arms. You couldn’t help but give a pained smile as well, everything felt right now that Steve had you in his arms.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Steve planted a soft kiss to your head. “I got you now.”

Then everything in that moment changed.

As Steve carefully made his way back towards the stairwell, the floor gave out underneath the two of you. Bucky, who was quick to think grabbed the two of you. His metal hand gripped you tight while his other hand gripped his best friend.

Both the weight of you and Steve held Bucky down where he was. There was no possible way Bucky could swing the two of you up. Not without one of you slipping from his grip and losing one of you. You and Steve watched as Bucky tried hard to calculate in this super human brain how to save the two of you. Then part of your hand slipped from Bucky’s metal hand.

Steve’s eyes met with yours. “Bucky, you take care of her.”

“No!” you and Bucky shouted. You were happy to have your voice back again. “Steve,” you continued. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Steve’s eyes started to fill with tears. “I love you.” Steve reached his free hand up and pried Bucky’s hand off his arm. You began to plead and cry for Steve to stop but, you started to slip more from Bucky’s metal hand. Then before your hand could fully fall out of Bucky’s, his flesh hand was already on yours. As Bucky pulled you up, you knew it was too late.

Steve was gone.

***

Your eyes flew up and you sat upright in your bed. Sweat covered your body as if you had been back in that burning, collapsing building. You wiped the sweat from your head and looked at the empty space next to you. The space that had once been Steve’s and it still slightly smelled like him. It was still strong after two months.

The time on Steve’s digital clock read two in the morning. The normal time you’d been waking up since coming back from the hospital. You kicked your legs out of the beg and walked out of the room. You wore pajama bottoms and one of Steve’s shirts.

Entering the kitchen, you saw Bucky sitting at the small island. Bucky, you take care of her, rang through your ears again. And Bucky had. He stayed with you the whole time your were in the hospital. You checked on your countless times that first month. He somehow always knew when you’d be up from a nightmare. That, or Bucky’s and yours nightmares were synced together.

You pulled up a chair next to Bucky as he slid a cup of tea your way. And you guys just sat there while you sipped on your hot tea.

“If there was a way to save him, I would have,” Bucky said softly. Never once had Bucky talked about that day with you. Normally, the two of you would sit in silence for thirty minutes before going back to bed. Tonight was different.

“I know, Buck,” you turned to him and place your hand on his shoulder. “I would have done the same if I were him.” It was true. You would have ripped your hand from Bucky if it meant that Steve would live.

Bucky patted your hand as he met your gaze. You saw how sad he was and you knew he missed Steve probably as much as you did. “You know, I found an engagement ring in his night stand,” You took another sip of your tea. “I think that’s what dinner was supposed to be that night.”

“Y/N,” Bucky leaned back in his chair. He had this look on his face and you knew he didn’t know. “I’m so sorry. If I had known, I would have made sure Steve stayed.”

“But would he have stayed behind?” You asked laughing lightly. You both knew Steve inside and out. Bucky gave a light laugh as well.

“You’re right.”

You thought back to night before that mission. You and Steve had been arguing about you going. If only you knew what your knew now, you would have stayed behind. But you didn’t. You couldn’t understand why Steve kept telling you to stay behind. He didn’t have a good reason and the only to make him shut up about it was to wear that red dress he loves so much on you.

You ignored Steve most of the night at Tony’s party. You talked and drank with your friends and for the hell of it, you let some random dude hit on you while Natasha and Clint took bets on your reaction. Natasha obviously won. You, having had too much to drink, told the poor dude you already had a boyfriend and it was Captain Fucking America.

After that you went and looked for Steve. Once your found him, you pulled him off to a private single bathroom. In no time Steve had your dress unzipped and pooling at your feet. Leaving you only in your lace bra and not so matching underwear. His lips already on your neck as he picked you up and placed you on the counter top.

Within in minutes, Steve had you in a moaning mess as he thrusted himself in and out of you at a hard and fast pace. Your nails were starting to dig into his lower back as you felt your stomach tightening up with the strong orgasm that was coming. Soon, you were crying out in pleasure while Steve filled you up.

He helped you back into your dress and helped get your hair back into place. He peppered a few kisses on your neck, sending a shiver down your back.

“I love you,” he told you before the two of you returned to the party.

The next morning, the same argument resumed about you not going on that mission. At that time you had that pit in your stomach. You told leave to just leave it alone and marched yourself not the that helicopter. You ignored him until he caught your arm before entering that building.

***

You woke up in the hospital. Everything was hazy and blurry but soon you focused on two figures by your side. As soon as your vision started to come back to you, there sat both Natasha and Bucky. They were still in their gear. Bucky’s face had cuts and bruises on it. Just his look alone brought everything back. It felt like getting hit by a semi.

Steve was gone.

You could feel it deep down.

Y/N?” Your eyes flickered towards Natasha’s face. It looked like she was holding it all in. Steve was her best friend. She was the one who brought you into the team. She was the one to introduce you and Steve. She watched the both of you fall in love. You did’t know it at the time but Natasha was there when Steve bought the ring.

“We found him,” her eyes fell to the floor. You knew it wasn’t good.

Bucky leaned forward and took your hand, but you pulled it back. You weren’t sure about how you felt towards him. Not yet anyways. “The entire fourth floor fell on him after the final explosion. He didn’t make it.”

The world around you froze. You slowly turned away from Natasha and Bucky. You stared at the blank wall and let the silent tears fall down your face. You covered your mouth to keep the sob from slipping from your lips. But it failed. The sob echoed around the room. You hugged yourself as you let yourself cry.

“I’ll go find a doctor,” Natasha said softly before leaving the room.

You felt Bucky’s hand on your arm and this time you didn’t pull back at his touch. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. You could tell by the shakiness in his voice, Bucky was close to tears as well.

You lost the love of your life.

Bucky lost his best friend.

***

You stared at the head stone that read ROGERS in big bold letters. One part of your brain was still trying to convince you that all of this was just a silly nightmare. That you’d be waking up soon to Steve’s strong and warm arms pulling you in close. But you knew better. Even though you wanted this to be just a dream and to have the man you loved back in your life.

“Oh, Steve,” you whispered tracing the letters of his name. “I miss you like crazy. Bucky's been real good too. We’re keeping each other in some sort of check. We’ll be fine.”

Light footsteps stop next you and from the corner of your eye, you see Bucky sit next to you. The two of you did this once a week. You’d get out of compound and just sit at Steve’s grave for a few hours. Either talking and telling stories or just enjoying the silence and weather.

“With everything going on,” You said taking thew water bottle Bucky offered you. “I didn’t catch it. Why everything has been hitting me harder and why my emotions are through the roof. I should have caught this.”

“What’s that?” Bucky asked.

“I took three pregnancy tests,” You looked at Bucky. “They all read positive.”

Bucky choked back on his water. “What? How far along?”

“About two months, I think.” You down at your hands. “The night before the mission, Steve and I snuck away from Tony’s party.”

Bucky stared at you, the ground and turned to look at Steve’s headstone. “Steve’s final wish was for me to take care of you.” He rested his metal hand on my leg. “And that’s what I’m going to do. You and Steve’s kid aren’t going to be alone at all.”

And Bucky did just that.

***Eight Years Later***

You sat on the porch watch a little blonde hair blue eyed boy play in the yard. He had on a small Captain America costume on, wielding a small shield. The two things gifted to him on his seventh birthday by your old team members. They loved your son dearly, especially Natasha who had all the good stories about Steve to tell him.

Your son was aware of who his birth father was. He was also aware of the sacrifice he made. His eyes would always light up when he heard stories of his father. His little smile was the same as Steve’s. It made you happy. That’s when you realized that Wanda had been right all those years ago. The pain had somewhat gone away. It lingered here and there sometimes when you thought about Steve and how you did this life without him knowing his son. A son who was exactly like him. The love that Steve gave to you never left. It reflected back through your son.

“Still going at it, I see,” Bucky sat next to you and handed you a glass of water.

Just like Bucky promised, you and your son weren’t alone at all. He was there for every appointment. He was there for the odd midnight cravings. He was there when you went into labor and stayed by your side for two days until it ended with an emergency C-section that had almost ended your life. He was even there for all the sleepless nights helping out with nightly feedings and soiled diapers. When you quit the Avengers, so did he.

Bucky was always there.

You didn’t know how it happened but falling for Bucky wasn’t apart of the plan at all. It was slow and unexpected. It scared the hell out of both you. But the two of you slowly went with it. Soon it wasn’t just small, gentle kisses on the cheek or lips brushing on your neck. It slowly turned into long nights of making love and learning to love someone again.

Now years later, you and Bucky had been married for five years. You guys lived on the outskirts of town in a two story house with a nice white picket fence. It had been perfect for you guys.

“He’s fallen like five times with that thing, but he always gets back up,” you rested your head on Bucky’s shoulder and he placed a kiss on it.

“Very much like Steve,” Bucky chuckled. “You know, if he takes after Steve, he will be more than a handful when he’s older. How are you feeling today, Doll?” Bucky’s metal hand rested on your bulging belly. You were about seven months pregnant.

“This one seems to be kicking my ass,” you shifted around on the porch bench. “They always seem to be in my ribs, trying to push outward.”

Bucky leaned down. “Take it easy there kiddo.” His blue eyes lookED up at you and it made your heart flutter.

“Dad?” A small voice brought both you and Bucky up right. Those bright blue eyes looked at the two of you. Breathing deeply after having probably ran as fast as he could. Despite knowing who is birth father was, he always called Bucky dad.

“What’s up sport?” Bucky turned his entire attention to the little boy in front of you guys.

“Are you going to tell me the real story of how you got that metal arm?”

“Like I said last week, when you’re older,” Bucky leaned forward with a smirk. “But I’ll tell you it was a secret organization. Now, go get washed up, dinner is almost ready.”

You saw your sons eyes light up and mouth fall open. “What secret organization?” He asked in wonder.

“Steve,” the two of you said the boys names at the same time.

“Okay, okay,” he backed up and ran inside.

You and Bucky exchanged a look. “He’s going to find out the truth one day,” You said slowly getting off the bench. Bucky helped steady you.

“Just like his dad.”

The End

15 notes · View notes

neilbruce · 3 years ago

Text

Jon put his heels into his horse.

You saw them, the arrogant Ser Jared and his nephew Rhaegar, that smirking worm who wears a dragon’s name. Jon put his heels into his horse. I thought to myself. One o’ your king’s knights did for him, some bastard all in grey steel with moths upon his shield. Was pretty serious stuff that happened to him. Lies on tape in the Bridgegate trial. “We choose light or we choose darkness. In those days behind every bush, nike air max denim for sale behind every tree, someone still seemed to be living, mysterious, unseen by us, fairyland was mingled with reality; and when at times the mists of evening were thick in the deep hollows and caught in grey, winding wisps about the bushes that clung to the stony ribs of our great ravine, Natasha and I, holding bottines cloutees femme each other’s hands, peeped from the edge into the depths below with timid curiosity, papuci de casa din pasla expecting every moment that someone would haibike e mtb 2020 come forth or call us out of the mist at the bottom of the ravine; and that our nurse’s fairy tales would turn out to be solid established truth. The Muskies defense did not play good in the first several innings, committing several costly errors. [Extended to other counties in 1797.—Potter, ch. By the terms of Alabama segregation, because there were no seats remaining in the white section, all four passengers would have to get up so one white man could sit down. But anything to keep the bloody bastards sweet.. A child’s flesh, he thought, remembering Bump.. “A money power of two thousand millions of dollars, held by a small body of able and desperate men; that body raised into a political aristocracy by special constitutional provisions: cotton, the product of slave-labor, forming the basis of our whole foreign commerce, and the commercial class thus subsidized; the press bought up; the Southern pulpit reduced to vassalage; the heart of the common people chilled by a bitter prejudice against the black race; and our leading men bribed by ambition either 215to silence or open hostility.”[27] And now, in this condition of things, the whole weight of these churches goes in support of slavery, from the fact of their containing slave-holders. It'll do 56.5mpg and emit 129g/km of CO2, putting it in tax band D. I think this one produced 700 fps w/ 14.3 grain pellets with 8 pumps. “Savages, and who’s left to tame them?” No one. 50/50 raffle tickets and donations will be accepted during the concert. We won't have them very long," he warns. Journalists discover what sticks and what sinks. Now that he had seen and heard the man himself, that struck him as a very bad idea. It's a little curious that the memory modules don't have heat spreaders on them, though we'd be more concerned if this was a heavily overclocked system.. Stick to what you know and do best. “They mine tin and copper for bronze, forge their own arms and armor instead of stealing it.. They had learned that the word of a slave-holder is not to be trusted, and feared they were going to be sent to Richmond, Virginia, as there had been talk of it. He says, in one place, that in order to do much good it must be begun very early in life, and intimates that people in advanced years can acquire very little from it; and yet he decidedly expresses his opinion that slavery is an institution with which no Christian has cause to interfere.. The follies and failures of Aegon the Unworthy did not concern him, but he was full of doubts and misgivings. Yandry said we ought to throw you back, but the lad forbade it.”. We got a little tour of the house. Clarke: Not with you. He visited all sorts of Josephines and Minnas; though at the same time he loved her dearly. This has to be followed with the prescription medications that may include those for topical application and/or ingestion. It is, therefore, evident that Mrs. Just as this was being composed, the oldest continuous wine festival in the country, World Oceans Day at Monterey Bay Aquarium, an epic Spartan Beast obstacle race at Toro Park, a Sunshine Freestyle Surfabout competition, a rock and roll concert to benefit homeless dogs and the 20th anniversary performance of the incomparable Smuin Ballet were happening on the same day. The greatest tribute to Dr. If I should be bailed out, I should sandisk mp3 mode d emploi return to my trial, unless my security were rich, sandalias doradas gioseppo and did not wish me to return; for I am Richard yet, although I am in the prison of my enemy, and will not flinch from what I believe to be right and honorable. Chaplin. The wrong-way rangers. He was a member of the Order of the Amaranth, a member of the VFW, the American Legion Post at Burr Oak, Kansas. It was fascinating to listen, really listen, to "The Carousel Waltz." You hear the carousel wheeze into motion, then izraeli kézműves ékszerek gradually accelerate until it reaches full swing. BRIAN PETERS LINDSEY KARPLUK Co chairs Provincial AA Basketball Committee In horno teka hc 610 me blanco search of Norkam '73 grads The Norkam Class of 73 is holding a reunion Labour Day weekend 2012 and we are trying to reach all our classmates. And I can assure you that given the hardline attitudes of current Hall of Famers, many of whom comprise a voting bloc on veterans committees, neither Bonds nor Clemens stands any chance of being enshrined after their dolce gabanna adidași bărbații BBWAA eligibility is up.. Prices are subject to change at any time and are expected to sell out. Thanks to the target pace function, I was motivated to speed up at the end of a recent run, rather than dragging myself home as usual.. Limeburners Creek Road and the Bucketts Way are expected to remain closed for some time but the Pacific Highway has reopened.. When the Crow’s Eye took the fleet to sea Tris had simply lagged behind, changing course only when the other ships were lost to sight. The restraints imposed by Microsoft were patently unreasonable. Paul Laxalt, R Nev., is 94. Houtrow said the changes could be due to a number of things. I took comfort with Lancel. And what if you have to chase down your dog or carry a box up a flight of stairs? Even driving your car could pose a problem six inches of bended foam preventing you from hitting the brakes.. Then a door he had not seen before swung open, and an old woman emerged, a shriveled thing in a dark papuci de casa din pasla red tokar fringed with tiny golden skulls. Ach, Natasha, do let’s read over ‘Childhood and Boyhood’ together. But anything the enemy hated was fine by them and if it made a girl look like a Hollywood film star into the bargain, what was there to really dislike?. “I hope Your Grace will pardon me. It a juicy car. This is a perfect opportunity for a great Wisconsin Idea that will once again inspire the world. “Rory, Pate, stay with the horses.” He might have given that duty to the recruits, but they would need to be blooded soon enough. 239 E. Of the following children all were present except John; Nancy Beamer wife of Adam Beamer; Mary Marlatt, wife of Paul Marlatt; Catharine Terryberry, wife of James Terryberry; Margaret Zimmerman, wife of Joseph H.

1 note · View note

manggaetteokkie · 4 years ago

Note

You must've missed it but Jason did thank BTS already but the fact remains the song was a hit before BTS was featured on it so it's possible it would've hit number 1 eventually but yes no doubt BTS being on it took it to the top quicker. I don't care for Jason though

I did hear that he thanked BTS (I saw a video he made on tiktok a few days ago, not sure if he posted on other social media platforms and tbh, cant be bothered enough to check), but I guess I’m just v annoyed at how people simultaneously covet BTS for clout and throw them aside after getting what they want (at this point im not even surprised, just extremely annoyed and extremely tired). Perhaps Savage Love could have eventually gotten #1 (although I doubt it lmfao), but fact is, it’s the featured artist that got them there, yet everyone and their mom are doing a mighty good job of acting selectively blind to that whole fact.

Anyway.

The whole behaviour honestly makes my eyes roll so far back into my head. Thanks to this fiasco, my tl decided to bring back all of the good/bad artist moments from before and I was reminded of an interview Halsey had with Ellen which was—ugh. The way Ellen kept phrasing it to make it sound like the entire record belonged to Halsey. Halsey, bless her heart, thankfully interjected that she did it with BTS or things would’ve been a preview to what happened to a certain songwriter.

Anyways, talking about this kind of stuff just makes me saltier than the Dead Sea, and because I don’t want to shrivel up into a salted jerky, I try to force myself to think happy thoughts by revisiting Bangtan’s discography or videos. JD used to be this dude that had some pretty catchy songs, now he’s just another one of my eye rolls 🙄🙄🙄🙄

#thanks for the ask!#anon #anonymous #answered #bangtan #bts #savage love laxed siren beat feat bts #my post #my stuff #jason derulo

15 notes · View notes

tysondabs · 4 years ago

Text

Forest Lawn Memorial Park (Hollywood Hills)

trigger warnings and contents: death/parental death, a cemetery visit, L.A. traffic, expensive whiskey.

************

If he was a smart person, Tyson would have known he could just google his father’s details and find out where he was interred from there. One simple google would have done it, but not being an internet-first person, he resorted to texting Angela instead. She was more than happy to give him the details, and mention in so many follow-up texts how happy she was he had decided to go see him. The knots in his stomach started then, something inside twisting at the way she said she was happy, proud, and that Johnny would be happy to have him visit, he was sure. There was a succession of emojis, hearts, flowers. The sailor knots twisted themselves tighter.

He set off the next day, somewhere between 2 and 3 on the drive. Had taken another day off at work, more sour faces from Lisa and threatening that he’d all but used up all his vacation days this year, but fuck her; he let any thought of her pass not to ruin the day, started his beat up, paint-chipped Honda civic and hit the road. Stone cold sober, nothing in his system but the black coffee he’d slammed back minutes earlier.

Cruising down Silverlake Boulevard, some familiar scenes until he left the familiar scenes for unfamiliar road, then merged onto the freeway. It was fine until he hit bumper to bumper traffic. Now? Midday? Fucking hell.

He hated driving in L.A. on the best of days, but now, without music, and the heat, and stopping every two minutes as the cars crawled up the drive, he was starting to get stir crazy minutes into the journey. At the next stop he pulled out his phone, checking notifications; a thought occurred to him, or rather, a desire. Maybe he could text Sasha. But he couldn’t picture a way to word ‘going to see my dad’ to her without it sounding fucking weird or stupid, so he tossed his phone to the passenger seat and continued driving (only to pull it back up again a moment later because he forgot he had the GPS going).

At some point, he got too engrossed in his thoughts, and missed the turn into Cahuenga Boulevard. Fucking hell, part two. Maps rerouted though, and after a very long roundabout, he was finally at a stoplight, opposite some weird building-slash-cottage. ‘Valhalla Entertainment’, the banner said, and that rang a bell (wasn’t that Jude’s kid’s name?). 14 years in this city, and he had absolutely no clue which part this was. Somewhere between the Hills, before or past the Hollywood Bowl, he rarely came here unless it was a party. The distractions had him nearly missing his turn into Barham, but he pulled it just as the light turned green, the odyssey getting longer by the minute and it would be a miracle, he felt, if he made it at all. At this point, there was an itch to just Fucking Get There, wherever ‘there’ was. He drove past a flower shop, contemplated stopping but decided against it. What good were flowers anyway, he had something better with him — a bottle of Four Roses bourbon, sitting passenger seat beside him. Johnny liked that one. Or so he thought. At any rate, there was a photo of him holding a bottle of it somewhere on the internet, one he looked psychotically happy in, that was burned into Tyson’s retinas.

He drove past a sign for Universal City, and then a building loomed large, the New York Film Academy building (that made no sense to Tyson, why would the New York film academy be here? In L.A.? It made no damn sense). This entire city was Hollywood, it ate the city up and swallowed it whole, chewed and then spit it back out. That’s what it did to people, at least the ones who came seeking something in the realm of fame, anyway. Everyone else in the city was stuck under its heel, suffering and poor. The rich elite and the hoods; night and day contrasts. He knew which part he belonged to, and would prefer it over anything fancy that this town had to offer because it was all a farce, all an illusion. Though he wouldn’t begrudge any of his friends chasing fame money and success. He had plenty of those, and he hoped they could navigate the labyrinths in this concrete maze better than many did. Better than his dad sure had.

Forest Lawn Drive creeped up on him as buildings thinned out and disappeared, he was close now, he could feel it. Before long, there was a large white building beside a brick church, and he was here. He stopped at Information, gave the coordinates he was looking for and they directed him. Straight up that road and it was somewhere in the middle, coordinates marked. The knots got tighter now as the boom barrier lifted and he drove into the cemetery. Thoughts narrow, throat dry. He pulled up to the right space, or what he thought was the right space. A piece of trivia fell into his head, remembering that Lemmy was buried here too. Maybe he’d snap a photo for Emma, if he could find it, if he could even remember. He followed the numbers as he slowed his car, looking out at names, gravestones marked in the ground in even rows. He stopped the car at the assumed right spot, parked it by the curb and killed the engine.

Now the hard part. In his stomach sat a lead pretzel. His breaths dug deeper and he thought of a girl with fair hair to try and bring himself out of it. It sure would’ve been nice if she was here, maybe he’d even be cracking jokes right now. He tended to do that in her presence, even when he was peak anxious and scared; like when they were boarding that plane. But there’s no one here, just him and his multiple personalities, the angry ones and the sad ones this time mostly. It was quiet up here, and he saw someone walking amongst the graves, and a caretaker not too far from that person. The church stood behind him down the slight incline of the hill, and everything else fell flat, in neat green rows. He thought of another girl, one from many years ago. She knew his deal, knew how he would get on this day, he’d told her as much. And when that day came around one time, she surprised him with a trip. They drove out of town to some peak overlooking the city, she’d packed a picnic, and made sure they had a day of it. That had been real nice of her to do.

He couldn’t sit here and rehash memories endlessly to avoid what he came for though, and Tyson got out the car, grabbing his trusty tin and the bottle of whiskey he’d brought with. The lead pretzel undid itself and became a slithering snake. Walking amongst the rows, he looked at names, family lots. Looking out for the right one. None of them were the right one. Angela had sent directions, but they were haphazard and not exact. Some five minutes passed this way, Tyson beginning to wonder whether he was in the right section at all, passing name after name, some sounding famous, some not. Some with fancy words the grave, or markings, and flowers left by them. He passed one with a shitton of flowers; either a recent or old Hollywood star. He came down one side and down the next row, starting to wonder if he should give up here and move on to the section directly below this one, maybe it was there she’d meant — when it caught his eye, the gravestone in the corner of an enclave, sitting flush with the earth.

John Robert ‘Johnny’ Dobbs. Beloved husband and father. 8/15/1964 - 4/27/2001 And when the winds carry you home, Remember who it was that sang your song.

There were bunches of flowers shrivelled up beside the grave, two sets of them. His throat felt heavy, scratchy as he stopped and kneeled before it, wondering who’d left them. It was hard to swallow now, impossible.

There was nobody around, but even had there been, Tyson didn’t think he’d let that stop him from doing what he did. He tried talking quiet at first, but maybe Johnny couldn’t hear him that way. Who knows how this thing worked. He took a tentative seat on the ground and crossed his legs, sighing. Looking up and squinting to the sky that still had a sun up high in it, still far from sunset, nowhere near it. A sheen of sweat showed on his brow between the parts obscured by his backwards cap. He frowned, and spoke to some space between the grass and the corner of the memorial stone.

“Well… I made it. I’m here.” Now that he thought about it, he probably should have come on his birthday instead. Because this…this was fucking depressing. The 20th anniversary. Twenty years it had been since he died in that hotel room all alone, and not since the actual funeral had he ever thought to come here. “I know I don’t…come here at all…ever…but I just wanted you to know I think about you…think of how you are…don’t even know if I believe in that heaven or hell shit, who knows…”

He tore out strips of grass that were beside him, and arranged them in a little, methodical pile. “Maybe this reincarnation shit is real and you’re out there somewhere…maybe on another planet. That would be cool. You were too good for this one anyway.” Rip, rip, more pieces of green to join the little pile he was making. “I wanted to…wanted to, uh, say something, actually.” He sniffled, not sure when his nose had started running, but it had now.

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t finish the rest out loud but he thought it. I’m sorry for ever being mad at you, for throwing tantrums, for being a shit son. I’m sorry for pushing you away when you would come back because I thought you had left us. I know it wasn’t like that now. It wasn’t like that at all.

The tears rolled freely now, another unexpected surprise from the day. “Wish I could…I wish I could find the…” he shook his head, over and over, anger mixing into the rest of the feelings churning inside him, so much frustration, rage. That things even turned out this way. Had it not been for that, his dad could have been here, alive. Disappointing Tyson in the flesh and Tyson in turn disappointing him, but alive at least. “Fuckin’... kill them all…every last one…” He’d do it, too, no one could stop him. Not even the thought of a life in prison. “I know why you were the way you were, is all I wanted to say. Shit, I’m like that too. Maybe it runs in our genes.” He looked up like he was talking to someone, like there was a physical body here receiving his words, looking back at him. “Wish I could listen to your stuff too, because it’s good stuff. But I can’t…sorry.” There were people out there though, who listened, and still loved him, and had not forgotten him. He remembered the messages from fans he would get. That counted for something, at least. Maybe they could all listen in his place, since he could not. He knew Angela didn’t listen to his stuff either, and there was something to be said about that. At least he wasn’t alone feeling like this.

He picked up the bottle of bourbon he’d brought with him and twisted open the cap. Tipping it back, he took a big drink, quenching his thirst, feeling the burn as the liquor travelled down his system. Gasping for breath as he pulled back, he poured the rest over all the grass. Here, all for you, he thought, some dark amusement to that. Probably haven’t had a drink in a long ass time, huh? He stopped when he’d all but created a puddle of whiskey before him that was getting too large. One more sip stolen of his own, and he placed the bottle right side up next to his gravestone. “That’s for you.” Surprisingly, the knot was easing up, or maybe it was put on hold. Maybe this wasn’t too bad. Maybe he could do it again next year, or in the summer when it came time for Johnny’s birthday. Twice a year.

Tyson let out a long breath he had been seemingly holding in, cheeks puffing out, chest heaving. He started to feel sickish now, queasy. Maybe he needed a smoke. Yeah. His tin came out, the usual stash of two prerolls in it. He hesitated, then pulled the spare one out, placing it next to the whiskey bottle. “I know you never liked this shit dad, but give it a try yeah?” he said, like he was persuading Johnny to change his mind on Tyson’s drug of choice. At the same time, lighting the other one he’d brought with him. “Don’t know what kinda shit you had back in the eighties, but this is good stuff. Promise.” God, he was going crazy, fully lost it out here, smoking a joint and talking to a gravestone. A fucking joke. But nah, it wasn’t him, it was the world that was a joke, and he was just fine.

He stayed some time longer, until he’d smoke down the joint to the end, the buzz it offered providing some sort of calm to his frayed nerves, definitely making everything better. In a weird twist of events he felt hesitant to leave now, but eventually he did, getting up, dusting himself off. Crossing eyes with a woman across the lot as he did, somewhere in a not-so-far off distance. He wondered if she was visiting someone, but her husband joined her, photo camera in hand and it became quickly apparent they were tourists. He felt some kind of bile about that, the temptation to cuss them out as he walked past high, but he resisted.

Fucking tourists.

Back in his now-overheated sat-in-the-sun-too-long car, he rolled the window down all the way, and breathed a long, relieved exhale again. His head went to the steering wheel as he tried to collect himself, pick himself up from what just happened. He was in a state but coming out of it, slowly, gradually. That hadn’t been too bad. He forgot half the things he’d wanted to say, but maybe he would think of them again on the drive back, write them down somewhere and then say them when he was back here again. If there was anything he wished for after all, it would be more time with Johnny. And Angela. He’d make a point to go back to Texas if it meant driving for two days. Alone. It was the tradeoff for spending time with his family, what he had left of it anyway, because in the end, that’s all you had, wasn’t it?

Talking himself through and down some weird freakout episode wasn’t easy, but gradually, in this hot ass car that wasn’t getting any cooler, he somehow cooled down himself. Then he pulled out his phone and dialled a number.

#self para #ft. johnny dobbs #death tw #parental death tw #grieving tw

4 notes · View notes

neo-culture-mafia · 5 years ago

Text

NCT 127 (+Lucas) Reaction: S/O Gaining Feelings After an Arranged Marriage

Hello people!! This took…some time lol. I was working on this during finals and I just wanna apologize to @ilook-soperfectstandinghere14 AGAIN for not getting this up earlier. Please leave feedback…cause I suck at fluff…but I tried (not all are fluff btw) so…yeah…alright bye.

Also…Winwin is in this. Until SM puts out an official statement saying WInwin is NOT in NCT 127…you’re gonna deal with my ass being an OT10 stan…just saying. If you wanna fight me on it…just remember the block button is easier to press than you think ;).

LEE TAEYONG:

He wanted to rule by himself…not have a ‘queen’ as his parents called you. He had told you the night of the wedding that you have your room and he has his room and not to cross each other’s lines and boundaries. You were completely fine with that and respected that…but then your emotions got ahold of you and your heart was yearning for someone’s affection. You wanted Taeyong but you knew that you and he would never mix. It was like hell trying to not go up and talk to him and start something…anything.

At dinner was the worst though. You would eat alone at the super long dining room table meant to fill 40 more people…and you sat by yourself with the only thing to keep you company – your mind.

You would sit and eat and sit…and eat with no show of Taeyong. He would take his food in his office just so he didn’t have to sit with you. It hurt a little, but you’ve grown used to it now.

Tonight was different though…it was eerie and more silent than usual. The silence was deafening. Just to hear something, you ‘accidentally’ clanked your fork against your plate.

The ring calmed your heart but still made you on edge. Then as if on cue – lights go out. In a matter of seconds, you were out of your seat and bustling around in the dark; your fear making you move quickly.

Down the hall, the 8th door on the left: Taeyong’s office. Yet you would never know that you never actually made it out of the dining room. You were going around in circles.

You could hear screams and shots coming from the kitchen. Your breathing became ragged and everything was running on adrenaline. Your mouth and chest were paralyzed with fear and the want of surviving the night…but you weren’t sure. For all you knew–it was every man for himself. You were screwed.

But you were pulled against someone. You started thrashing and fighting but the person put your head in their chest and you knew it was Taeyong. You couldn’t help but let some tears seep onto his t-shirt as he quietly and efficiently pulled you from the room. Screams for help still echoed and you squeezed your eyes shut and put your hands over your ears.

Taeyong brought you to the garage where he threw you in the backseat and got in the front. He hit the gas and got the hell out of there. Some cars chased you guys for a little bit, but he made sure to cover his trails correctly.

You still sat in the back in a position that made you look vulnerable and weak. The screams of the workers were still in your mind as he twisted and turned on never ending roads.

You felt a calloused yet welcoming and warm hand sit on your leg. You looked up to see Taeyong. He would look at you from his rearview mirror and switch from you to the roads.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you could only shrug. “I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you…” He said and you both made eye contact through the mirror.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself afterward.”

MOON TAEIL

You and he had been trying to make this go as smoothly as possible. You would be with each other for a while…so why hate each other during that time?

You both respected each other and learned to live civilly. Both of you were basically the bestest friends now. So you both had been on dates and you were quickly going mad for him…and he was going mad for you too. The way he was never afraid to smile and be so loving. He walked in and immediately made it feel warm and shiny.

It had been thundering and usually, you wouldn’t care…it was a thunderstorm – big whoop. Yet, the power shut off…and so did the heat. It was already 11 the last time you checked and the room became dark and clustered. Your mind made images out of things that weren’t there in the first place. It was nerve-racking and stressful for it being so late at night.

You tried closing your eyes and drifting into dreamland but nothing was happening. The covers still weren’t providing warmth so you turned for your hoodie and it still changed nothing. You became grumpy and sleepy but most importantly…COLD. “This is so annoying.” You groaned and stood up, throwing your slippers on.

It felt like it had been 5 minutes, but you would later find out it had been a whole hour of you shivering in the cold. You were already throwing in the towel and was going to find somewhere else to sleep: under the rug, in the curtains, in the coat closet…somewhere.

You made it right out your door and was in front of Taeil’s. You were still highly considering the coat closet. Yet, your hand came up to knock the hard wood. Your heart began to race as you heard some groans and shuffling towards the door. Your heart completely stopped when the door opened to a tired Taeil that was in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Yeah?” He asked and you couldn’t form words correctly. How was he so handsome this early in the morning?! What magic was this?!

“Uh…the uh- power-” “Why is it so cold?” He yawned and stretched. “Well the uh-” “Come on I’m tired and cold. You look warm.” He said grabbing you and pulling you into his room.

You had no time to protest or even think before he picked you up and threw you on his bed. He literally rolled over you and put all the sheets on both of you. “o-okay.” You mumbled as he wrapped his arms around you and leveled his breathing out.

“…it was cold…” He mumbled and you chuckled for a moment. “Yeah…” you agreed while nodding. He brought you even closer if that was even possible. “But it’s warmer since you’re here.” he said and your heart started beating rapidly. He didn’t want you to know that his heart was going even faster though.

You yawned and rubbed your eye. “Go to sleep…we can make breakfast later…” he reasoned and you nodded. You did something risky and put your head on his chest. He prayed to a higher being that you couldn’t hear his fast-paced heart.

He sat there for the next half hour just looking at you and falling more in love with you than you could ever fall in love with him…and he never wanted this feeling to end.

SEO JOHNNY

You both were slow but becoming very close. You guys know that you both could never truly love each other knowing all of it was forced…but your heart didn’t know that. You were slowly going insane over it too.

Both of you were out and hanging around with each other and just at the local cafe. It was an ambient place and you were hoping you could talk to him about how you’ve been feeling lately. Yet you already knew he didn’t feel the same. From the way he looked at other girls to the way he looked at you: you were positive it was never meant t be. But being forced into marriage by your parents after the company went under – you just hoped that there would be at least a little spark. A little something that made you hope you wouldn’t live the rest of your life as a side piece.

You both sat there, talking about domestic things. Sipping your coffee, you wish it would drown the feelings in your mind and chest…but to no avail you still sat there – the thoughts drowning you.

“Hey, Johnny?” You asked and he looked to you, pushing his glasses up. “Yeah y/n?” He asked checking his phone but you still carried on. “I have had something to get off my chest.” You sighed and put your almost empty cup down again.

“I think I really li-” “Wait…before you carry on.” He said interrupting your confession. He looked to the cashier station where a girl was counting single dollars.

“Do you think you could go give her my number?” He asked as he looked to you with desperate eyes. “Uh…huh?” You shook your head to try and wake yourself up and hear better. “Like…go give her my number and tell her to call me?” He said looking like a child who wanted a new toy.

He was asking his legal wife…to go and help him get a date??

Your heart felt as if it shriveled up and was thrown into the pit of your stomach. “Oh…yeah…sure.” You said and he slipped you a napkin. He kicked your foot to get you to hurry up. You took your phone and purse, walking over to the cashier.

She looked up at the last minute and smiled. “Can I help you?” She asked and you put the napkin down. “My friend over there wanted to give you his number.” You said bitterly yet with a plastered on a smile.

You wanted the smile to squint your eyes to hide the hurt and welling tears. “Really?” She jumped a little and you nodded, sliding her the napkin.

“I wish you luck.” You said and turned around towards the door. “Oh…y/n?” You heard Johnny call but you kept walking as you blocked out his perfect stupid voice. You walked out and down the street in the opposite direction as the tears traveled down your face.

It was the undelivered truth that you truly loved him…but it didn’t have to be delivered that he did not love you back.

NAKAMOTO YUTA

He just didn’t want the rest of the life hating someone…so he liked you…eventually.

It definitely took him getting used to having someone sit across from him every morning. Naturally, he wasn’t a morning person…but you were. He never wondered why someone was so happy for sleep to come to an end. Sleep was beautiful…and you loved being out of it.

He woke up and walked out of his bedroom. He walked past yours and saw you were already out of the messy bed. He sighed and realized he would have to meet your happiness sometime today…eventually.

He walked into you making breakfast for the both of you. “Look who’s up early…again.” He mumbled the last part. “Yep! I’m making eggs and sausage.” You smiled and rolled the sausage. “…fun…” he said as he grabbed an apple and sat down at a high sitting chair next to the counter. He looked over your work as he munched on the apple.

His nice black t-shirt contrasted against his messed up bed-head. You hummed a tune and he wanted to vomit at your cheery side. “Why are you so happy every morning?” He asked and you smiled a little more as you grabbed plates. “Because everything is waking up.” You said and he just cocked an eyebrow.

“And it’s time to make new memories. New day…new experiences to experience.” You hummed as you plated his food. He just looked onto you, your movements and actions becoming calming for him to observe. “And besides…you never know how long you have left. Live every moment like the last.” You offered the plate to him. He grabbed it with one hand. “Time is meaningless.” He said as he took the plate to his seat. You sighed and sat down across from him with your own food.

The smile now faded and the want to just get through the day set in. Yuta noticed the silence and became hesitant. “You…being happy all the time…makes me happy…” He said and you couldn’t hide the little smile.

“I’m happy you’re happy…and it puts me in a better mood.” He rolled his eyes at his confession and you smiled more. “Thank you, Yuta.” You said and took a bite of your eggs.

He smiled a little and saw his outlook on the day rise when he saw your shy smile. It was warming and comforting. His heart twinged and he could feel a spark in his cheeks…maybe waking up to your smile every morning wouldn’t be as bad as he first thought.

KIM DOYOUNG

He didn’t want to have to deal with another person’s affection. He didn’t want to care for another person’s life when he couldn’t take care of his own sometimes. It was all a hassle. But you didn’t see it like that.

You loved looking out for him and making sure he was comfortable and had anything he wanted. It was a hard journey for your heart to go through the couple weeks after the wedding. More nights he would spend in his office and not in the house that was supposed to feel like a home.

You guys would do things that a normal ‘couple’ would do…just without the affection…and love.

Both of you guys were out for drinks at the local bar. He had been stressed at work lately and just wanted him to open up to you about it. He didn’t like opening up to people, but for some reason, he found it easier with you. He swigged down the dark liquid and asked for a refill. “But the deadline is coming up and I just don’t think Taeyong is appreciating how hard I have been working.” He said and you nodded, laying a comforting hand on his forearm. “Well, then I think you should tell him to lay off a little and tell him you understand why he’s getting frustrated. But also, you’re the only person doing the work he needs done.” You said and the look in his eyes looked a little happier than when you guys first walked in.

“Thanks, y/n.” He pinched your cheek lightly. “No problem.” You smiled and finally retracted your hand from his arm.

“Wanna go walk around for a little bit before going back to the house?” He asked and you certainly obliged to the thought of a nice walk. He paid for both of your guys’ drinks and you guys walked out into the street. You guys began walking towards the park at the end of the road.

Yet the little things he did made your heart swell…and the free air clogged up your throat as you walked.

You were walking close to the curb, but you almost choked when you felt his hand on your lower back. He guided you into the middle of the sidewalk so he was where you once stood. “All the idiot drivers are out right now.” He excused his actions and you nodded; understanding his reasoning and purpose.

You both continued walking and making the journey towards the park. The walk lead you guys past some crappy and shady bars though. The type of bars that had the stereotypical thugs sitting outside and whistling at anything with 2 legs.

You had passed a couple already and the comments were just getting worse as the sun continued to go down. The familiar smell of weed hit your nostrils and knew another bar was coming up. “Here. It’s getting cold.” He said stopping for a moment and slipping his jacket off. He just laid it across your shoulders so it covered your upper body. Your face heated up as the smell of weed was replaced with his cologne.

You guys walked past the bar, and the comments were the worst of the night. You felt Doyoung’s arm slip around your back and onto your waist. His strong pull carried you into his side. The look coming from Doyoung’s eyes could make demons cry…but it showed you he cared.

He didn’t want people looking at something that was his…he hated to admit that…but you were his and no one else’s.

(I’m such a hoe for this bunny boy I am so sorry)

JUNG JAEHYUN

He was in paradise from the day since the wedding. He always wanted to be a husband and then a father…and half of his dream was already accomplished. You were all for being a wife and carrying the usual duties.

You both fell for each other at least 3 days after the ceremony. He loved doing such domestic things such as: cooking you breakfast, having lazy days and watching Disney movies in bed till 1 pm, baking with you, helping you cook dinner after a long day of training, go out for late night strolls and overall being affectionate with one person.

He realized at the same time that you did that this was forever. So why not put all of his affection into you? You wouldn’t be going away any time soon; you returned his affection.

He was the stereotypical dream husband and you were in love. Would make your coffee, attempt to do your hair, giggle with you during late night conversations, stare at you and when asked why he would give the excuse of you being too beautiful.

It was early in the morning and it had been a long night of waiting up for him. He had been on a mission and you were prepared with food and a drink upon his return. 2 am hit and he trudged in with a long and exasperated sigh. You pointed at him from your spot on the couch. “Don’t get blood on my carpet!” You said and he chuckled. “Yes Dear~~” He sang as he sat down on the bench and release hit feet from the combat boots he wore regularly (regular huh). You went over as he popped his back and you cringed at the sound. “Ouch.” You said and he chuckled, grabbing you and pulling you in front of him. “Tell me about it.” He said and just rested his head on your stomach.

Your hands ran through his hair and over the stress lines on his forehead. “You tired?” You asked and he nodded. His arms came up and held onto your body – his usual spot to hold you while sleeping.

“Why don’t you go take a shower, eat, and then we can go to sleep and I can rub your back.” You offered and he nodded tiredly. He sighed as he stood up and towered over you (this man is a whole ass 6′0″ PROBABLY closer to 6′1″…he a tree). “Also throw your clothes out before hopping in so I can throw them in the washing machine.” You called as you walked to the kitchen to heat up his food. “Yes, honey ~~” He called and the door shut as your heart raced a little faster.

~~~~~~~~

You guys just laid there and listened to each other’s breathing. Your hand ran over his back; rubbing at knots littering around his toned back. “You’re so warm.” You called feeling his forehead. “No. You’re just too cold.” He said and brought you into a bear-like embrace.

“Now shush. Go to sleep.” He said as he released his grip only a little bit. “…and thank you for dinner…it was amazing…”

DONG SICHENG (WINWIN)

He liked to be controlling everything in his branch. He was open to the idea of marriage but was always afraid to lose his other half; to his work, to emotions…to falling out of love with him.

So when you two wed each other, it was okay in the beginning. He never thought you would stick by him for as long as you have. You thought he was charming and wondered why he wasn’t loved by everyone. He was so loveable and so well put together to not love him. His mannerisms, sense of humor, charm, and his protectiveness…he was perfect to you. But you also understood why he distanced himself from you.

He had left on a business trip for 3 weeks. Building up to his departure, he tried getting closer to you and tried showing his love for you…but it wasn’t working out the way he wanted it to. He was almost for certain that as soon as he left, you would run away from this place and never look back; for he was a monster in his mind and undeserving of love.

Yet you sat there, counting down the days to his return. Yeah – it was really lonely in his house all alone, but you utilized the time to learn some things. You baked – ALOT. You drew a while. You read a lot of books. You watched movies. You made new food creations to show him when he got back. You cleaned and made the house spotless. It was all perfect for his return where you assumed he would want to unwind and relax.

You decided what you wanted to make for his first night back home, and decided on some comfort food.

You were going to surprise him and pretend you weren’t home and then turn on the lights and tackle him into a hug. It was going to be amazing…but you obviously didn’t know he thought you were going to be gone in the first place.

You had begun getting ready; cooking the food, cleaning up some loose things, getting some beverages ready, and then you heard him buzz into the gate. You shut off all the lights and hid behind the couch next to the front door.

You were all giddy from excitement as soon as he walked in. You saw how the moonlight streamed in behind him. He looked hopeful when he first walked in…but he just nodded to himself and looked a little sad as he just tossed his keys messily into the key bowl.

You then turned on the lights and jumped over the couch. “Welcome home!” You yelled and hopped into his arms. He was taken aback for sure. He was shocked and his heart jumped, realizing you had waited for him all this time.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and he automatically held onto you like you were a plushie. He couldn’t help his eyes getting a little wet. You were still here…and you were happy to see him…and he was happy that you were still here and showed you still cared for him. You chuckled a little. “Welcome home.” You said a little quieter so it was a little more intimate moment between both of you.

He felt a peck on his cheek and just held you tighter. “Happy to be back.” He whispered back and he wanted to stay in this moment forever. “Oooo! I cooked dinner! It’s going to be cold if we don’t hurry up!” You shimmied out of his grip. He slipped off his shoes and took off his heavy jacket; as you dragged him into to kitchen filled to the brim with some of his favorite foods, he couldn’t help the smile staying on his face.

He smiled as you looked at his reaction. “Does it look good?” You asked in anticipation and he nodded. “Looks perfect.”

KIM JUNGWOO

Because of his position…he was just unable to love anyone. He had become severely detached from this cookie-cutter ideality of ‘love’. He wanted love…but was just unable to feel it. He could feel ‘it’ during work…but not emotionally…it was never truly love.

He knew you were in love and he could do nothing about it. All he could do was sit back and watch as you realized this was never going to work out. It was painful for not only you but him.

He didn’t want to leave you in the dark…but it’s all he could do. He doesn’t blame you at all … but himself for getting you into this mess when you didn’t deserve it. No one deserved it.

You and him sat next to each other at a movie. You were hoping you could do something during the movie to elicit a spark of emotion out of him (not like that)…but to no avail…you were left high and dry.

The movie had been droning on for what seemed like forever and it was getting boring and repetitive now. You fake yawned and leaned your head on his shoulder. You cuddled in closer…and you could feel his breath become quicker. You were now happy…knowing that this could work out if he just let it happen…

But as he looked down at you, he felt pity. He wasn’t in love…he was uncomfortable for you were smooshing his pocket knife into his ribs. One wrong cuddle and boom…trip to the infirmary.

He couldn’t deny that you were adorable and an amazing person…but he just couldn’t ‘love’ you. So for the rest of the movie while you were lead on y your own fantasies and dreams of the unrequited love finally happening…he sat there hating himself and not knowing what to do anymore.

It was a lost cause.

WONG YUKHEI (LUCAS)

He was a lover…not fighter. So yes, his ideal wasn’t to get married so young…but he was along for the ride of life.

He was nervous but once meeting you, all his nervousness and fears perished like fine dust. You thought he was perfect for you and you were perfect for him.

The ‘honeymoon’ was full of jokes and getting to know each other. But, as soon as you both returned home - it was all business.

You both decided that instead of taking it slow, take it how every newlywed would. No separate bedrooms, be open with each other, etc. It wasn’t too fast in both of your opinions. It should be normal.

It was in the middle of the day and you were currently catching up on the news. The door burst open and in came Lucas. “Oh…hi.” You said as you looked at your husband who just stood in the middle of the living room. He stayed silenced and just continued to stare at you. “You good?” You asked and he didn’t answer – continuing the uncomfortable stare.

After another 30 seconds of silence, he broke the deafening quietness.

“I want a sandwich.” He said as he turned and walked into the kitchen. “…what?!…” You got up and walked after him. You just stood there and watched as your tree of a husband made himself a sandwich. “All the uncomfortable staring for a sandwich?” You asked and he shrugged. “Want one?” He asked and you could only shake your head.

He cleaned up and sat down at the counter island. He motioned you over and set you down on his lap. “Eat.” He said holding up the sandwich. “No, I’m not hungry.” You laughed but he kept pushing it closer; making himself laugh.

His arm was wrapped around your body to make sure you wouldn’t fall. “Come on, just one bite.” He smiled at your laughing figure. “No. I said I wasn’t hungry.” You laughed more. “Fine. But I’m still hungry.” He said dropping his sandwich on the plate.

He grabbed both sides of your face and began laying small and cute kisses all over your giggling face. He loved you and you loved him and you both could never get enough.

LEE MINHYUNG (MARK)

He didn’t want to get married. He thought it was unneeded and super stupid. He actually tried skipping his own wedding…until Taeyong found him hiding in the back of his car.

Yet, he was dragged in and forced to do vows. He ended the ceremony with an ‘I do or whatever’ and a fist bumped. People were confused as they clapped and he exited the church before everyone else.

It was a wild ride at first…but he got used to it. So used to having you that it was weird when he didn’t. You were in love with him…or at least the ‘him’ that everyone talked about. You did everything you could to make him comfortable so he didn’t have to do anything and could live the rest of his life comfortably.

You cooked him a warm dinner every night and made sure his laundry was done and the bloodstains weren’t stains anymore and that he always had love and affection to have if he ever wanted it.

But enough was enough. You were done giving him love when he couldn’t even acknowledge your existence sometimes. You printed out the right forms and were going to demand that Taeyong signs and declares the marriage no more.

It was raining outside and you felt so alone as you walked the distance across the base. Hyuck saw you and asked what was going on.

You gladly told him and he didn’t waste time in trying to find Mark; for how he really knew how Mark truly felt on your guys’ relationship.

Hyuck had to deal with Mark gushing about you wearing his hoodie on accident; you getting scolded about you wearing his clothes - “I was just about to wear that! Why are you going into my clothes?! They’re my clothes for a reason!”. Hyuck still hasn’t lived down Mark talking about how good your cupcakes are; while he sits and critiques them to your face - “They’re hella dry. But I’ll just take the rest with me to work to get rid of them. I don’t think anyone will like them though. They don’t have enough icing.” Then hoarded them at work and yelled at anyone who came close to breathing next to them. Hyuck still doesn’t understand how someone can never get tired of talking about your sleeping habits; but he sits there with you and calls them annoying - “I hate when you cuddle me and curl into a ball…it’s so uncomfortable! I barely got sleep last night!”.

But in reality, Mark wishes he sat there and told you how he truly feels. He loves everything you are and everything you do.

He even sat there and cried because he thought he was going to lose you. The whole Junior Forces never saw Mark feel so guilty and scared at the same time.

Hyuck ran as fast as he could to the training center. “M-mark. Y-y/n.” He breathed heavily, pointing outside the window to where he had just been. Mark was busy talking to Johnny and Jaehyun about a class when the younger rushed in.

“What? Is she okay?” Mark asked, still sitting. “Going to Tae. Divorce papers…crying.” He choked out, trying to calm his wheezing. Mark dropped his phone, everyone ‘ooo’ing’ as they now saw his absolutely destroyed screen. “Where is she?” Mark asked as he ran down the steps. “1 block, right.” Haechan said as he sat down on the dirty ground – catching his breath. “Wow. I need to get in shape.”

Mark’s heart started racing as he saw your silhouette walking into the base headquarters. You never even looked back as he screamed your name. He pumped his legs even faster as the door closed behind you.

He made it to the door, a panic attack ready to break down his body once again. “No no no no no.” he hummed as he pushed interns and trainees to get to Taeyong’s office and stop you before it’s too late.

He turned the corner and saw you walk in. “Y/N!!!” He bellowed and you jumped. You looked at him and rolled your eyes, closing the door fully.

He raced to the door and kicked it open; your body already sitting down and Taeyong shocked at the whole outburst.

“No. We…we are NOT getting a d-divorce.” Mark clarified, running a hand through his hair that was matted to his forehead. “Mark.” You breathed and Taeyong still sat there shocked.

“No. Just please give me time to explain.” He said, some tears slipping down his face. His chest started heaving in and out. “Please.” He choked out, grabbing at the sides of his head.

“Hey, calm down.” You said walking over and wrapping your arms around his waist. His hands shook like a bartenders glass and his chest was on fire.

“Plea-…” He began. “Take him home y/n.” Taeyong called softly. You obliged and lead Mark out of the office and down the hall. You guided Mark all the way past the dorms and towards the apartments.

His body still shook as tears streamed down his face.

Once he was inside, the first thing to do was calm him down. You set him on the couch as his hands rubbed painfully over his jean-clad knees. You went to his closet and pulled out a t-shirt and sweatpants.

You gave it to him and went to the kitchen to make him something to calm down; returning to him fully changed with a look of pain and helplessness on his face.

You sat next to him and put your hand on his that laid on his thigh. “Now what’s going on?” You asked and he hiccuped, eyes welling with tears.

“Please…please don’t leave me.” He said and you just stared at him, remembering the documents. “…Mark-” you sighed, looking into your own lap.

“No. Just let me explain myself.” he hopped off to the couch quickly. He stood in front of you and started getting emotional again. “I…” He began but needed to take a second to compose himself. “I know…I am not the best husband. In fact, I’m probably the worst. “ He said and you tuned directly to his speech.

“I am an asshole to you every day. When in reality, you are one of the best things to happen to me.” He confessed. Your heart began to swell. “And I love your cupcakes.” He said and you giggled a little bit. The tears kept pouring down his face though.

“And I love when you curl up next to me because you look so cute and pure and I don’t deserve you.” He cried. “And I love when you wear my clothes. You look amazing and like a goddess and I love your cooking and your caring nature. I love everything you do.” He began babbling.

You went over and just hugged him. “and…I love you.” He finally confessed and you held him tighter. You broke away and went back to the counter and grabbed the papers. You went to the front door and Mark thought that was it…you were gone.

Yet you returned with a lighter and a trash can. You burned the divorce papers and saw his eyes light up even brighter than the flames.

He stepped aside from the burning trash and grabbed you. He kissed you for the first time and it was the most thrilling thing ever.

Nothing would go completely smooth right after this…you guys have to work on a lot of things. But now, at least you know he cares and he cared from a while ago.

LEE DONGHYUCK (Haechan):

He could sense the way you became closer to him…and he couldn’t push you away. It was awkward already when you both stood in your respective doorframes; both deciding to exit the room for breakfast at the same time. Both staring at each other to see who would walk towards the kitchen first.

Of course, Hyuck would let you walk first as he closed his door again and slid down it so you wouldn’t see him freak out and grip his fists in frustration.

But you walked to the kitchen, wanting him to come down and just have a normal breakfast like a ‘wife’ and ‘husband’ should…but it doesn’t look like that was gonna happen anytime soon. Even if the world was going to end tomorrow; you were almost positive that he would up and leave to spend it alone…and it was sad but it was true.

You skipped around the kitchen in the way of the kitchen staff. “Is master Haechan coming down for breakfast?” An older woman asked as she stirred something in a large pot.

You seemed it silly how they called him by his alias in the comfort of his home…and the whole ‘master’ aspect. Even he has said how much he hated it.

You smiled and grabbed an apple. “Hopefully. He has been working all morning.” You smiled and began walking out after giving an excuse for the absent house ruler. He was treated like royalty and looked after by all the staff and probably could lay bedridden all day if he truly wanted.

You turned the corner and automatically ran into a bigger body. Hands came out to your arms and steadied you. You were face to face with your ‘husband’ and it was crazy. You haven’t been this close since the wedding. It was all surreal.

“You okay?” He asked and all you could do was a nod in response to his questions. “Sorry.” You muttered and tried to slip around him. The tinge in your cheeks was burning all through your nose and face. His arm quickly came out and stopped you from moving any further.

“Y/N…” He trailed off and you could only hum in acknowledgment. “Just…” He began and got caught up in his own words. You looked up into his light and forgiving eyes that were mesmerizing to look at; making your knees week whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

“Just be ready by 8.” He said and walked the rest of the way into the kitchen – leaving you flustered and confused.

You were falling for him…and he wasn’t for you…but he sure as hell was going to make this marriage work.

1K notes · View notes

365daysoftododeku · 5 years ago

Text

20th December 2019

Author: Liz

________________________________________________________________

Is You

Christmas is just five days away and Todoroki is freaking out.

Every year, Midoriya blows Todoroki away with extraordinarily personal gifts, bringing loving tears to his eyes before he hands over a boring present of his own. Although Midoriya weeps every time, Todoroki knows it’s never as good as his lover deserves.

So, Todoroki made a vow to himself that this year he would give Midoriya the best gift ever. But how can he can he do that? Todoroki has no clue, so maybe their friends would.

“Aw, Todoroki!” Uraraka squeals as herself, Iida and Todoroki sit in a corner booth at the local cafe. “You know whatever you get him, he’ll be grateful and love it.” The smile Uraraka gives is almost reassuring. Almost.

“I know,” Todoroki sighs, looking down at his half empty tea cup. “But I want this to be even better. Something that will amaze him.. He deserves it after all.” That last part was muttered, though the other two still heard it loud and clear. Uraraka and Iida share a secret smile before the speedy hero reaches a hand out, clapping Todoroki harshly on the back.

“You’ll figure it out, Todoroki.” The ice and fire user looks up, meeting Iida’s encouraging eyes.

“Yeah!” Uraraka chimes in. “I mean, he always says that ‘all he needs is you’! So anything you come up with, he’s bound to cherish it for the rest of your lives.”

Todoroki swears he can still see hearts in his friend’s eyes as they part ways.

Todoroki sits in the small kitchen of Bakugou and Kirishima’s apartment. He isn’t sure why he thought Bakugou would know what to get Midoriya, but they were childhood friends, so maybe the blond has some sort of idea.

“The hell? You think I know shit about what you should get for Deku?!”

Or not.

“Chill out, babe.” Kirishima scolds his fiancee, though there is a bright smile on the redheads face, so maybe it can’t be called ‘scolding’. “Listen, man. Midoriya is crazy into you!” Kirishima’s enthusiasm is overwhelming to Todoroki, but he powers through. “All he talks about is you and how amazing you are and how he feels so lucky to have yo-”

“Blah blah blah, all that sappy shit. You get it.” Bakugou rolls his eyes and returns to whatever he was furiously stirring in a bowl when Todoroki first arrived.

Kirishima chuckles softly before looking back at his friend in crisis.

“Seriously, Todoroki. When you first started going out, I remember hearing Midoriya say ‘he’s all I’ve ever needed.” Kirishima sighs lovingly as though those words were spoken for him. Todoroki blushes, a small smile forming on his face.

“Oi, shitty hair!” Bakugou turns around, finding his soon-to-be husband staring blankly into space. “You trying to say I’m not that sappy?!” Jutting out a hip, Bakugou crosses his arms in front of his chest in anchor.

“No no no, babe!” Kirishima immediately jumps from his seat at the table to put out the fire that is his lover. “You express your love in your own special and perfectly you way.” The hardening hero takes Bakugou’s face between his hands, planting a small chaste kiss on slightly pouting lips.

Todoroki took that moment as his chance to leave.

There was one more person Todoroki had in mind who would know his boyfriend incredibly well.

All Might.

“Young Todoroki!” All Might’s booming voice sounds through Todoroki’s cell phone. (The students were given their teachers phone numbers in case of emergencies.)

“Hello All Might.” Todoroki formally greets his teacher before clearing his throat. “I have a question to ask of you about Izuku.”

“Young Midoriya?!” All Might’s voice is almost frantic with slight anxiety seeping through. “Is he alright?!”

“Yes, yes, he’s fine.” Todoroki quickly reassures his teacher. “It’s about Christmas.”

A couple beats of silence fill the receiver and Todoroki starts to think the former #1 hero had hung up on him.

“Hel-”

“Young Todoroki,” All Might interrupts him, voice calm and collected. “Are you asking me what you should get Young Midoriya for Christmas?”

Todoroki blinks, stunned. “Uh…”

“My boy,” There’s a smile in All Might’s voice. “Why are you asking an old man, like myself, what to get your boyfriend for Christmas?”

Todoroki huffs. “Well… I just, I don’t…” Upon his stumbling, All Might let out a soft chuckle.

“Todoroki, you know him better than anyone. You’ve seen him at his most vulnerable, been at his side for, what? Five years now? You’re adults, taking on Japan as two of the top ten heroes. You’re obviously meant to be, Young Todoroki.” A beat passes before All Might speaks up again. “Let me ask you, what do you want out of this relationship with Young Midoriya?”

Todoroki doesn’t hesitate to answer, “I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Then I think you know what you want to get him.”

It’s here. Christmas day. Midoriya was sleeping peacefully on Todoroki, his breathe hitting the half-and-half male’s bare chest.

Todoroki woke before the sun could rise, nerves raking his soul to the core.

He tries to calm himself by combing his fingers through Midoriya’s green curls. He shuts his eyes tightly, trying to will himself to sleep, but to no avail.

Before he knew it, bright rays filter through the window of their bedroom, framing Midoriya’s freckled face. The OFA user’s eyes scrunch at the sudden sunlight, a yawn escaping his mouth. Todoroki swears his heart stops at the sight, knowing full well what was to come.

Once Midoriya gets his bearings, the smaller man looks up at his wide awake boyfriend, shooting him a sleepy grin.

“G’morning.” His voice is gravelly, causing Todoroki to blush and smile at the sight.

“Good morning, Izuku.” Planting a swift, sweet kiss to his lovers forehead.

They slowly get out of bed and get ready for the day, the whole time, Todoroki feels anxious. His hands are sweaty and his heart is pounding. While they sit at the table to have breakfast, his foot taps quickly against the tile floor as he distractedly eats his eggs.

“-outo? Shouto!” Todoroki jolts, turning to his left where he finds his boyfriend looking at him with concerned eyes.

“Y-yes?” Todoroki clears his throat, pretending to be nonchalant.

“Are you okay?” Midoriya sets his fork down, hand reaching out to hold Todoroki’s. “You’ve been distant all morning, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” Todoroki sighs. “Just, tired I guess.” Midoriya gives a small smile.

“Let’s go back to bed than. Presents can wait and we don’t have to be at Kacchan’s until 3.” Intertwining their fingers together, Midoriya tugs at Todoroki to stand.

“No, ‘Zuku.” Todoroki pulls the smaller man towards him, holding him closely.

“But why not?” Midoriya looks up with big green eyes. Todoroki’s gaze flickers across Midoriya’s face.

“I, uh.. “ Todoroki stutters, causing Midoriya’s head to tilt in confusion. “I-I want to give you your present now.” Todoroki says each word slowly, tasting them on his tongue as though they’re foreign.

“O-Okay! We can do them now!” Midoriya’s energy returns full swing as he drags Todoroki to their living room. Todoroki chuckles, forgetting his anxiety for a moment, getting lost in that blinding grin.

The two swap presents from their family members and friends that they had gotten in the mail. They always kept them under the tree, saving to open them for Christmas no matter how early they came.

Then, it was down to the last two gifts: A medium sized present labeled Shouto, and a small plain brown box labeled Zuku. Like every year, Midoriya stands first to retrieve his gift, handing it to Todoroki with jittery fingers a wobbly grin on his face.

Todoroki takes the present and begins ripping at the shimmering paper, revealing a plain brown box. Using his ice, Todoroki makes a small, pointy icicle to rip at the tape holding the package closed. He lets out a gasp when opening the flaps.

Inside lay a black shadow box frame. Todoroki lifts it from the box and inspects the contents behind the glass.

There’s a ripped out piece of notebook paper with a shriveled, yet still yellow dandelion. On the scrap paper above the flower, the words From Shouto in messy, high school handwriting clearly by Midoriya. The photo was black and white with a vignette around the edges. Todoroki was holding Midoriya on his back, the freckled teen was grinning so wide his eyes closed and Todoroki was looking up over his shoulder with a loving expression. It was clearly after hero training as both were in their hero costumes.

“W-Where…” Todoroki was at loss for words as small tears fill his eyes.

“Uraraka apparently took it after class one day.” Midoriya’s cheeks were bright pink as he bounced his leg. “She’s been holding onto it and decided to share it with me a couple months ago, so I thought…” Midoriya’s voice trails off as he bites at his lip.

“It’s amazing, Izuku,” Todoroki whispers, finally looking up from the sweet gift and leaning forward to place a sweet kiss on Midoriya’s lips. “I love it, thank you.” Their foreheads touch and Midoriya giggles in delight.

“I’m glad,” Midoriya responds just as a quietly. After a couple more moments, the two break apart and it hits Todoroki that it’s his turn.

Standing a shaky legs, Todoroki goes under the tree and retrieves his small gift. Back to his boyfriend, he quickly pulls the small jewelry case out of the box. When he turns around, everything fades and all he sees is Midoriya.

His best friend, his lover, sitting on their couch in their apartment. This place they bought together and share together.

Together.

“Izuku…” Todoroki whispers slowly walking to his boyfriend who scoots to the edge of the couch, body twitching in excitement. Once he’s infront of Midoriya, Todoroki looks down and suddenly, the words just come to him.

“Izuku, you are my everything. You have saved me hundreds of times; from myself, from others. You are an incredible hero and person and I feel honored to be able to spend everyday at your side. You are an inspiration to all young heroes, your strong and passionate and I feel I fall inlove with you more everyday.” Midoriya’s lips quiver as pools of tears trickle down his cheeks. “When we’re apart, even for a moment, I find myself missing you. I know our jobs are unpredictable, but I never want to be without you. All I could ever need is you.”

With that, Todoroki gets down on one knee, opens the ring case and holds it infront of Midoriya, whose jaw is slacked tears no longer falling. Todoroki tries not to choke up at the most important part.

“‘Zuku, will you marry me?”

Midoriya stares at the silver band. A hand comes up to cover his mouth as a harsh sob unexpectedly rakes his body. His eyes squeeze shut as streams of water descend quicker than before.

Todoroki feels uncomfortable, unsure of how to console his lover considering he still hadn’t recieved an answer. Then, green eyes open wide and lock on mismatched ones. Midoriya’s scarred hand drops to his lap.

“Yes.” Midoriya breathes.

Todoroki freezes before asking, “Really?”

“Yes!” Midoriya yells as he jumps from the couch. Todoroki stiffly follows up before he is tackled into a passionate kiss and loving arms. Finally breaking from a sort of trance, Todoroki wraps his own arms around the smaller man, holding him close, kissing him back just as intensely.

After a couple little kisses, Midoriya pulls back with a wide grin before looking down at the ring still in it’s case.

Todoroki flails slightly, scrambling to take the ring out, dropping the jewelry box in the process before taking Midoriya’s left hand and slipping the band onto his ring finger.

Upon closer inspection, Midoriya sees the words engraved in cursive: All I need is you, with green, red and white jewels at either end of the phrase.

Without saying another word, Midoriya pulls Todoroki in for another kiss, but Todoroki hears him loud and clear.

All I need is you.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

#Story #froppyfrosch #TodoDeku #365DaysofTodoDeku #TodoDeku365 #365 Days of TodoDeku #tddk #Shouto Todoroki #Todoroki Shouto #Izuku Midoriya #Midoriya Izuku #Boku no Hero Academia #BNHA #My Hero Academia #MHA #Todoroki x Midoriya #Shouto x Izuku #TodoIzu #long post

73 notes · View notes

heartwoodventures · 5 years ago

Text

The Sickness

The long, spindly black arm of the voidsent came surging up toward the knoll Aislinn had found for herself. Always take the high ground if you can. But now she was left exposed, no nearby trees within the Shroud’s forested glen behind which she could take cover. Short of breath, heart already in her throat from terror, she stumbled back, tripped, fell to the soft, mossy ground. As the black mass came rushing towards her, she could have done any number of things, she could have done what G’lewra ultimately did. Instead, she froze, twisting away as she braced for the impact. At the last moment the creature’s arm crashed against an aetherial barrier G’lewra had hastily scribed into place around the hyur. The shield was no match for the voidsent’s force and while it shattered, it had left Aislinn in one piece. Realizing she’d been given a reprieve, she scrambled for her gun and hurriedly pulled herself to her feet.

Why did it have to be damned void magic? When Heartwood Ventures took up this latest contract all that was known was that some sort of sickness was infecting the Shroud, deep into Sylphlands. The posting asked for medics and a few of the more martially inclined just in case. Aislinn was no medic, but she could fire a gun, weave aether if need be. However, it quickly became clear to all of them they were dealing with something far more sinister than a simple illness.

Their contact, a white-haired miqo’te scholar by the name of G’lewra, had met the crew in the Shroud and led them through the forest, explaining the plight as they went.

"I've scouted the area, my dears, the plants have plenty of water and there are no signs of scorch marks on the ground that would show signs of a fire I do however have a terrible feeling tis something none wish to usually mess with." A fairy fluttered over to rest upon the Seeker's head as her summoner continued to speak. "I believe we're dealing with a voidsent."

As the group traveled through the Sylph lands they noticed the devastation G’lewra had spoken of. A trail of dead grasses clearly marked the way, even some morbols had perished and looked like shriveled, rotten pumpkins scattered across the forest floor. Even those not sensitive to aether could feel the pressure in the air the deeper into the glen they went. The miqo’te brought them to a halt, turning to them with a look of concern.

Nazyl glanced at the shriveled morbols and grimaced, the dead flora and chill of the dread corruption near palpable, "Sheesh, ta so easileh bring down this maneh morbols...it has ta be at least be fourth rung...."

"Please be careful as we get closer as I'm sure this beast has fed on enough aether to give us trouble." G’lewra said, the Seeker's fairy moving to hide within her long snowy hair.

"Nymeia's Blood." Aislinn swore softly as she too took in the corpses strewn along the way, the oppressive air causing her ears to pop. There was surely a large concentration of aether somewhere close by. She shuddered, as if something had shot through her body. A sudden dread.

Y'ahn shifted the strap of her medical bag to rest more comfortably on her shoulder. "Lovely... If it's Voidsent we're dealing with I'd best double check I'd brought enough supplies to tend to whatever wounds this party is about to receive..." She huffed as she sat down in the grass, taking inventory of the contents of her bag.

As Y’ahn made her check, G’lewra continued on, "The beast has made its home deep within the Sylph lands, not even the poor darlings feel safe within their own homeland and have moved as far away from the thing as possible. When I went further in I could sense it had become rather large, ‘tis best we do what we can to eliminate it and quickly before it causes more damage to the land."

“Aye, if those cabbage fairies are afraid of the demon, then it must be something nasty. We ought to give it a good beating and show it who’s boss,” Aiswyda proposed. “Unless there’s some caveat on how to approach the thing.”

Y'ahn closed the flap of her bag, latching it back in place, seemingly satisfied with what she had on hand. "To Aiswyda's point, we do have a plan of some sort to handle the beast, don't we?" She asked as she stood back up.

"I could help with that, once we identify the demon." Nazyl offered.

Not just a voidsent. A -large- voidsent. Aislinn put her fingers to the bridge of her nose, pressing for a brief moment. "Aye, depends on what sort we're looking at here." she said, her voice sounding small even to her.

While her partners discussed the best plan of attack, Aislinn stood quietly staring into the dark wood, unable to focus on their words. She had run up against void magic only once before. And once had been enough. The mages had called themselves thaumaturges but she suspected that was more for their own protection than anything. Black magic was outlawed in Ul’dah, after all. Well, so was drug running but that hadn’t stopped the cartels either. Plenty was outlawed in Ul’dah that still carried on right in the shadow of the Sultana’s proud palace. She’d been young and naive. A fresh refugee and just desperate enough. Lured by the promise of payment in return for taking part in the mages’ study. As were many of the urchins the mages managed to find. In the end, she had been lucky. She had managed to escape. Others had not. The experience had been enough to convince her there was some knowledge that should be left well enough alone.

Off to her right, Koh nodded, his words bringing her back to the present. "The wood was weakened enough in the Calamity, best to save it from more damage, for its sake and the sake of those living in it best we handle this sooner than later." He'd lived in the outskirts of the wood, he knew how rough it could be. He didn't want those living there to have it any worse.

G'lewra started to move forward to lead the group further in, her ears perked to listen for any movement. "Please be on your guard, my dears."

The group moved with careful steps through the dark glen. The forest here was oddly quiet. No birdsong, no rustling of forest creatures through the undergrowth. It was almost as if all life within had been holding its collective breath. And then, all at once, the silence shattered. There came a sudden, rumbling roar from a deep ditch ahead. Black limbs reached up from the depths, grabbing onto the ledge as a gigantic voidsent heaved itself up and onto the ground, towering over them. Its dark, bloated body littered in masks that opened and closed rapidly as if searching for its next meal.

"By the twelve it's huge!" G’lewra cried out.

The masks as one almost seemed to scream with delight as it focused on the group in front of them.

"Aw, hells it's a Persona..." Nazyl gritted. The knight drew his weapons, mythrite blade and shield glimmering in the dim light, "Watch fer its magic, they can be fastah than they look, n' will freeze ye in place with but a gesture."

Nazyl may have been inured to the hazards of his job as a void hunter but for the rest of them the shock of the creature’s sudden and grotesque appearance reverberated through the group, crashing over them. Aiswyda let out an audible gasp, Aislinn fell back a step with half a mind to outrun her terror and Koh struggled to remain centered, taking several shakey, deep breaths as he stared up at the abomination before them.

While the others struggled, the lalafell was more than happy to be the first in, kicking off the hill and sliding down, shield raised to slam himself into the base of the creature, rearing back his sword to swing down hard onto the nearest mask, dragging Oathbrand across the earth in a turn, and cut upwards into it again, spraying dirt into it in the process, "All those faces n' yer still an ugleh bastard." He was already vying for the thing's attention.

So began the fight that brought the story to the present, with Aislinn scrambling back to her feet after narrowly avoiding being crushed beneath the voidsent’s grip. Now, the creature lashed out at Nazyl, hitting him squarely in the chest. The mail thankfully absorbed much of it, but gods did it smart. Coughing out a curse, he stepped back in and thrusted his blade forward into the black flesh, twisting and cutting upward to pry off another mask.

The voidsent’s gelatinous body wrapped around the blade and started crawling slowly towards the lalafell, devouring the sword.

"Sonofa..." Nazyl grunted as he struggled to pull his sword free.

The creature was far from finished. Its oozing form slipped up his arm, further and further until it had simply swallowed the lalafell whole as the rest of them could do little more than look on in horror. There was a suspended moment in which it seemed all of them wavered, frozen in shock and disbelief. Those that remained were fairly new to the Company. They hadn’t yet lost a comrade on a job. They hadn’t come back with any less than they had started out with. Comfortable and sure in their successes. Koh was the first to shake himself into action, calling up aether as he spun around, his steps light as he dodged the creature. With the miqo’te distracting it, Aislinn hurried to reload her weapon, letting out a string of curses, everything under the sun and then some, as her shaking hands struggled to fit the rounds into the chamber. Each of the creature’s unholy bellows and screams causing her to flinch in reply.

The fight was a punishing reminder that tested each of them sorely as they tried to keep up the momentum, to work together, to press their advantage. With each mask that they destroyed, the voidsent grew smaller until at last, with one final punch from Aiswyda the last mask cracked and fell away. As the powerful Roegadyn blasted the last mask off the voidsent, the beast withered on the ground as it started to shrink until it was nothing but a small little slime, squishing around until it finally burst into nothing.

Finally, quiet. The weight on Aiswyda’s heart had lifted, but something heavier had taken its place. The voidsent had just...dispersed, and the lalafell was nowhere to be seen. Aislinn dropped her firearm to her side, heart still hammering, knees weak. After a moment to collect herself, she slipped her gun back into place. Sucking in lungfuls of air, she slid down the hill to the others, relieved that it was over but still not quite back to rights.

"Nazyl." she said blankly. "What about Nazyl."

Aiswyda knelt down and felt the ground, searching for some sign of Nazyl. A hair, his sword - anything. But he was gone, and Aiswyda felt very, very small.

Y'ahn Tsunhe frantically looked about for the missing lalafell. "I... I don't see him anywhere!"

G'lewra’s snowy ears flicked in response to the mercenaries’ obvious discomfort as she drew closer. "Fret not, my dears, I'll find him in no time and bring word back as soon as I do." she said gently as she offered the group a warm smile to ease them all. "I'm still able to sense his aether so he's still around, I just have to locate him where this voidsent has sent him off to, never fear as I'm quite skilled in aether knowledge so I'll be able to find him in no time."

Koh looked up from where he sunken down to the ground, head lowered to his knees as he collected his breath and fought back tears. "Wait, he's...not dead?"

Aiswyda jumped a little, still in fight or flight mode, tunnel vision and all. But she took some comfort in the Seeker’s words “Ah..Aye. There isn’t much I can do now anyway. No use lingering in this dark place,” she responded, though her words sounded a bit hollow.

His aether could still be sensed. That was something. The tightness in Aislinn's chest eased a bit as she gave Aiswyda a concerned glance. The Roegadyn sounded how she herself felt. Hollow. Empty.

"We'll find him. We will." she said quietly to Aiswyda, trying to reassure both her friend and herself at the same time. She nodded to G'lewra. "Please...send word as soon as you find something." she said, trying to lend her words life she didn’t feel.

There was nothing left to do now but make their way back to Heartwood and give their report. A wordless exchange of somber glances said that not one of them was looking forward to that task.

(To be continued!)

#ffxiv #ffxiv rp #balmung rp #ffxiv crystal rp #Heartwood plots #Koh Srenh #Y'ahn Tsunhe #Nazyl Tharazyl #Aiswyda Nuthalwyn #Aislinn North #sickness must be purged

13 notes · View notes

corpse--diem · 5 years ago

Text

Clam Baked | Alain, Cassie & Erin

As soon as Erin stepped outside, her gung-ho attitude towards this event shriveled back into her warm, comfortable jacket. Just for a second, long enough to make her physically hesitate. It was as brief as it was real, but she zippered up, shoved those thoughts away, and marched out the door. The beach was buzzing with people by the time she got there, little murmurs of excitement and trepidation mixing with the wind and crashing waves. Too late to back out now. She popped open the back of her wrangler, glancing up at the water and the setting sun as she pulled out her little leather flask. Whiskey. One of the few things that could wrangle her courage up better than a pep talk. She took a long sip, cringing slightly at the burn, before her gaze stuck on the slowly reddening sky. Was it always like that? A few people seemed to notice, but others seemed… used to it. How long had it been since she’d been outside long enough to notice the color of the sky just completely changing? She took another swig, trying not to think too hard about it. She’d lived in White Crest long enough to know some questions just truly didn’t have answers.

If Cassie thought the walk down from the hotel was cold it was nothing compared to the bracing wind that hit the exposed parts of her skin as soon as she followed the trickle of people down towards the sea. Occasionally she wished the smart self-preservation part of her brain would come out of hibernation a little bit more and talk her out of this kind of thing and thought for a moment about bailing. No, she said she’d show so she had. Cassie changed course back towards the sound of the waves against the chatter of nervous and excited voices. At least she was semi-warm enough, for now at least, while she was insulated in as many layers of clothing as she had to hand. Moving her arms was a slight challenge, but she’d take it over the potential frostbite. With that thought still in mind another windchill picked up from out towards the water and she shivered. Wow, it really wasn’t getting any warmer. Stuffing her hands into her coat pockets she braced herself, shoulders turning inwards, and looked around and took a few glances at some of the faces nearby. A mixed crowd. That was interesting. Glancing up she noticed one woman stationed further back and sat by their car, flask in hand. Looked like she started early. Cassie inclined her head in greeting and what she figured passed for ‘crazy night for it, huh?’

Alain had been mentally preparing himself for this from the moment he stepped outside of work and the cold harsh wind reminded him at last that this was not a good idea after all. Sick kids or not. He had gotten changed at home and while the thought of leaving Erin all by herself crossed his mind, he had made a promise and being a man of his word, he couldn't ditch her. The least he could do was to make sure he would be warm until the very last minute. Parking his car far from the others, he started walking toward the crowd. God no. Why did he expect that it would be any different? He hated crowds. Okay, take a deep breath, he said outloud, putting his own advice in practice. The red colored sky was not exactly comforting either. In fact, everything around him at the moment made him anxious and as he approached the two women chatting, you could still tell from his tense stance that he was not having a good time for now. He breathed in deeply and waved a polite hand at the pair. "So, ready for hypothermia?" He grimaced and glanced at the pair with their flasks. This did not look like coffee, he told himself, getting his thermos from his backpack. He could have used some of that.

Not only had Cassie actually shown (she was more than unsure about that one) but Alain had as well. Erin’s energy soared almost instantly, and she jumped up from her spot. “Wow,” she laughed, holding a hand over her heart, glancing between the two. “I can’t believe I tricked not one… but two people into joining me. I’m flattered.” She continued to grin, ignoring the way the cold wind bit her cheeks. However cold she felt, these two looked ten times colder. And more miserable already. Maybe the whiskey was already helping more than she realized. In a flash, she turned, pulling out a few shot glasses she had stored away just in case her companions actually showed. “You look like the kid from A Christmas Story,” she glanced back at Cassie as she poured, a clear nervous excitement in her voice. But she was handing off shots of her whiskey to the two, nodding. “Oh, right. Alain…” she offered, hoping she remembered his name correctly. “This is Cassie. Cassie, Alain. Thank you both for doing something stupid with me today.”

Looked like she wasn’t the only one corralled into joining, Cassie turned around and smiled in amusement as Alain approached. “Victim number two, huh?” She raised her eyebrows in commiseration and pulled her now one free hand from her coat pocket and made a small wave in greeting, “hi,” before plunging it back as the chill bit in again. Despite the oh god it’s so cold I’m going to freeze over weather, the two of them seemed friendly enough anyway and she actually felt welcome. “You actually came prepared,” she laughed and gave Erin a nod of thanks, taking a small swig from the shot she offered out to her. Shivering on the spot as the warmth spread down, she let out a laugh at the Christmas kid comment, “and I’m all out of matches to sell, crap.” For once she found the burn pleasant in contrast to the cold. She watched as Alain did the same with a coffee flask of his own. Now, why hadn’t she been smart enough to think of that? “When you put it like that,” she pulled a mock daunted face and shrugged. “Lucky I left my brain at home.” She took another small sip and looked around. “Wonder what everybody else’s story is.”

"I don't think I have ever seen a bigger betrayal in my entire life, Erin," besides being betrayed by his own sister and losing all chance at inheriting a single dime from his family of course. Alain adjusted his scarf up so that it would cover the lower part of his face. "Nice to meet you too, Victim n°1," he poured himself a cup, and putting his thermos down, noticed the shots awaiting. "Is this your way to apologize for the upcoming hell ?" He paused, trading his cup of coffee for the shot of whiskey. Not that he was actually upset about being here, but the thought of ending up in freezing water was going to be their reality really soon and he was not ready for that. He took a sip from the glass and figured that he might as well pour it in his coffee cup. "Do you think they all came here because someone lured them into coming here," raising his eyebrows as he looked at Erin, Alain looked too serious to actually mean it. A small grin lit up his face a bit as he raised his shoulders. He had never been good at making conversation and even less at small talk. "I'm surprised they did not cancel it, with what's happening," he rolled his eyes up toward the red sky.

Erin smirked over her latest sip of whiskey. It was probably bad that she was enjoying the way her two companions seemed to hate every second of this. But wasn’t that part of the fun? “Partial apology, partial preparation. You can’t be cold if you’re numb,” she said, punctuation that with another swig. She could feel it working already—the warmth was creeping into her chest and her cheeks were already flushed. Her eyes drew over the skyline at Alain’s words. “Probably another gas leak or something,” she shrugged. White Crest was famous for those. Concerning in of itself, but no one seemed particularly alarmed by the red horizon. “If it was really dangerous, I’m sure they would have canceled.” She shook her head, stepping in place a little, trying to hype herself up. “Hey! This’ll be fun. And… if it’s not, I’ll buy you more whiskey afterwards. Or very hot cocoa.” A whistle cut through the chatter, and a middle aged man with a megaphone was wrangling everyone towards the tide. Erin unzipped her jacket and kicked off her shoes. The cold wind had her shaking the second she was left in just her shorts and tank top. “It’s go time,” she managed, holding back her chattering teeth for as long as possible.

“They’re here because the ocean called them back,” Cassie looked towards the crowd again nodded solemnly and followed with a smirk. “So, what are we betting on here?” She looked to the two of them, took another sip of whiskey and gestured up at the sky with an incline of her head. “So far I hear it’s either sand from the Sahara, Aliens or the apocalypse. The first one sounds the least plausible, considering,” she joked. The blast from the megaphone drew her attention just in time before she caught the sound of dozens of bodies cascading down into the water. Oh crap, they were actually serious. As the first few hit the wet sand and ran on, she heard the mixed battle cries and a few murmurings of shock and a few cuss words she could make out thrown in. “Well, after you guys,” she gestured in front of her half-jokingly for them to go on ahead, “I’ll catch up,” but was already reluctantly taking off her coat already regretting every decision in life so far that got her here as she did so. Ahead of her she saw a few heads bobbing in the water, amazed they let themselves get submerged that far. These people were insane. “Soon as I hear the Jaws theme song, I’m out of there.”

"You mean like when they cancelled the woods at night," which happened never despite people disappearing or ending up torn to shreds in said woods. White Crest, sweet White Crest. Alain may have loved his town, he couldn't believe that there were still people living here, sometimes for their whole life, still convinced that this was just a normal town. "The Sahara? Did you hear that from someone who thinks chocolate milk comes from brown cows?" The Sahara would have made sense if they lived in Europe, he had read about that in one of his astronomy magazines a couple years ago. "I vote for aliens," obviously. Oh crap. First the megaphone, then the people rushing into water and whining enthusiastically about how cold the water was. Getting rid of his coat, he kicked off his shoes, and with only a tee shirt and a pair of soccer shorts left, he grimaced, his hairs already raising on his forearms. The mention of Jaws managed to take his attention off of it however and he couldn't repress the need to hum the infamous leitmotif " Tiiiin-niiin, tiiiiiiiini-niiiin…" before adding that ladies should obviously go first, a kind, offering hand gesture accompanying his words.

They were way too slow, and Erin wasn’t going to let any hesitation deter her from just diving right in. If she thought too hard, she wasn’t sure she’d follow through. Theories of the red sky and aliens were quickly forgotten as she raced down the sand, her feet and the wind kicking it back up at her. All she could hear was the rushing waters and the thrilled, slightly pained screams from the other participants. The ice cold water made her jolt when first her feet, then her shins, touched. And finally, when she was waist deep, she dove right in. And then immediately hopped up. Already, she was shaking and her breath came out in white condensed puffs. But she felt amazing. And cold. Couldn’t forget cold. “Get your b-butts in here!” She yelled at the two slowly, begrudgingly, making their way to the water. They were going to hate her so much in about thirty-seconds and she laughed out loud at the thought. Her teeth chattered and she jumped up and down in the water, as that would make anything better at all. And that’s when she saw it, maybe twenty, thirty feet from where she and a few other participants waded. A clam. A huge clam. She stopped moving, the water waist high at this point. And she should have been running right back out. She couldn’t feel her toes anymore. But there was a giant clam. And she had never laughed harder in her life at the sight of it.

“I hope that’s still funny when you’re shark bait,” Cassie shook her head in amusement and rolled her eyes at Alain’s ‘after you’ gesture. Crap, here goes. On the count of five…. four, she peeled off the last layer until she was down to some running shorts, a tank and a loose tee. Getting into a stance she sprinted into the water before she could change her mind. “Oh my god,” she hissed. The cold was hitting nerves she didn’t know she had. This was the last stupid thing she was ever doing, count on it. “Can—c-can’t decide who I hate more, me or you,” she struggled to get out, teeth chattering as she waded out towards Erin was. “Yeah, l-l-laugh now…” she started before the chill took the breath out from her lungs. She looked to where Erin was staring to see who she was laughing at. Cassie soon realised it wasn’t a who, but a what. What at first looked like a mass of seaweed and debris opened its gaping maw and that’s when it all went very war Of The worlds as a man-sized clam had reared itself up from the water. A confused “Whaddafuggg?” was all that came out while Cassie still had the presence of mind to register the scene. Not enough to take any of it in as it opened its mouth and let out a sound like a laugh and she doubled over, unable to control the peals of laughter and the brain fog that followed.

“Could you blame them for wanting a piece of this,” he pointed to his own face, shaking his head. Water on his feet had him curling his toes. Nope. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he was now standing knee deep in the water and a part of him regretted now running right into the water. Oh well, he just had to be really brave and dive in that incoming wave, which he did. Nope, still regretted every choice that led him here. His neck disappeared for a moment as he raised his shoulders up, the cold fabric of his tee shirt also making him regret wearing it. “I fucking hate this,” he took a deep breath and, hearing laughter, figured for a second that Erin was just laughing at them. Or maybe Cassie and Erin were laughing at him, which was a thought he did not really appreciate. A wave hit him in the back as he turned to see what it was that they found so funny. Oh shit, what the fuck was this thing now. He could not recall ever seeing one of these before, but then vampires did not really hang near the sea at night because no one did. It did look hilarious, he gave them that. And at least they weren’t making fun of something related to him, which somewhat reduced his anxiety. Yes, he was more anxious about being laughed at than he was about seeing a gigantic clam. Now the question was, was it dangerous ? And if it was, did he carry a weapon in his backpack ? Maybe one of those knives he carried around on his hikes.

“Alain! Al-l-lain!” Erin chirped, waving him over as he grimaced not far from him. His annoyance at the cold only fueled her laughter. “L-look at this clam!” She yelled, pointing at it. “It’s huge!” There was a man moving in on it, his laughter louder and more obnoxious than their own at that point. He looked like he was trying to pet it when a tendril shot up from the water beneath it. The man was still laughing as it wrapped around his waist, lifting and pulling him in head first. The large shell opened and snapped shut. Only the man’s body slipped back into the water as the shell chomped away. Erin should have been horrified as the water grew red and menacingly spread towards them. She was. She could feel it more than she could feel her limbs right now, but she couldn’t stop laughing. Her sides were aching and she grabbed onto Cassie’s shoulder for support. “Holy fucking s-s-sshit,” she managed between laughs, some part of her struggling to let the ‘flight’ portion of her basic instincts to push through.

The gaggle of laughter erupted louder and louder as the bodies in the water drifted closer and closer. The scene that unfolded in front of them should have made anyone in their right mind head for the hills. As it stood, Cassie wasn’t in her right mind at all then and could only manage a half-assed “oops,” and pulled one corner of her mouth down as the man closest was grabbed up by the noodle arms and quickly devoured. “Clam-zilla,” she wheezed, a puff of her breath visible in the air as she looked over to Alain with a giddy smile. “He’s reaaaall,” she drawled as Erin’s hand made contact with her shoulder and she almost sobered a little. Just enough to re-register the biting cold she somehow managed to forget about. The hell had that happened? As she continued to look on out ahead she could see some woman had started to do the backstroke, not a care in the world. Cassie could just about make out the serene look on her face as she drifted right inside the seeping red circle of water and turned to Erin. “Oh, this is not good,” she spluttered. “This is very not good,” Cassie snickered She called over to Alain, “water’s getting clammy out here,” and made a motion with her hands of clicking a castanet.

“What the fuck,” the hunter mouthed, and looked at the two women with his eyes wide open. None of this was making sense. Was he dreaming ? “Will you stop laughing and get away from that thing?” He tried to keep his voice low, even if this thing did not look like it had ears, you could never be sure. Gesturing the pair to get away from the clamzilla, and closer to him, he glanced nervously at the creature for a moment, watching it swallow whole a person who was too busy laughing to even care. There had to be something in the air making them suddenly hilarious and hypnotised, or maybe disconnected with reality. Looking behind him as he heard a woman scream in terror, Alain saw that he was not the only one watching in horror what was happening. “Cassie, get away from that thing,” he urged her, noticing at last that she had drifted away from him and Erin, and right into the blood stained water. He better have that knife in his backpack, he told himself, as he ran back to the shore to rummage with fingers made numb by cold water, through his bag. Oh thank God, there it was.

Erin doubled over in laughter as Cassie spoke, clamping her fingers at Alain. “Clammy. Oh my god, I can’t b-b-breathe,” she wheezed. Definitely couldn’t feel her feet anymore, and the red was seeping close enough to touch now. It was everywhere. Why was Alain not laughing too? This was hilarious. Even the people being devoured by the clam were laughing on their way out. “Is this punk’d? Are we on punk’d right now?” She laughed even harder, if that was possible, looking around like there was going to be a camera crew running out of the woods somewhere. But there were only more screaming people pointing towards the beach. Farther away, more were fleeing. And she couldn’t stop shivering. She was watching what was happening to these people and her brain couldn’t connect with what was going on. “Oh man, I’m going to be so busy later.” She pointed as the woman doing the backstroke lost an arm to the chomping clam. They were so dead.

“Punk’d, Definitely Punk’d,” Cassie agreed, “they got Ashton in the clam,” she nodded. “Oh, noo,” she commiserated for the woman that was now one arm down. No sooner had she said that the woman seemed to be adapting and continued swimming on in a circle unimpeded. Good for her. In the seconds after that she was clam chow, “well, crap.” Ahead it was just a sea of red that seeped right up to where she was stood. Where the discoloured water reached her Cassie saw it stain her shirt and frowned. That wasn’t great. When did she manage to drift further out? Whoops. “Quit yelling,” she pointed at Alain who somehow looked like every disappointed parent and school principal ever. “Five more minutes,” she murmured holding her palm up with the gesture to match. Why was everybody so loud. “Everybody shut up a second,” she called out as Alain rushed back to the shore. “Heeey,” she frowned back at Alain, “that’s cheating, get back in here!” Back on the dry sand a crowd had amassed and for a second she thought they were cheering until a brief moment of clarity hit and she realised it was the opposite. “We are so screwed,” was as much as she could muster. Somewhere deep down, she knew that something wasn’t quite right but couldn’t help herself. She made a mock grimace at Erin but even that turned into more snickering as her clarity faded again.

A disheveled Alain was now standing by the shore, observing yet another person losing a limb, a head or a chunk of their torso before being swallowed whole, in a capharnaüm of laughter and screaming. This was one of the most terrifying scene he had ever had the chance to witness. His hands grabbed at the back of his neck as he tried to think of a way of approaching this thing without joining the laughing, deafening crowd. A crowd. He had to get through the crowd too. The only way he could get there safely would be under water. When was the last time he held his breath, how long could he hold his breath? Would this even work ? Rushing back into bloodied water, he took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the ball of anxiety forming in his throat. Now was not the time for this shit ! He cursed at himself, swimming further from the crowd, careful not to go anywhere the laughing ones ; putting his survival knife in his mouth, he swallowed back a need to gag and vomit, and disappeared underneath the water.

“We’re so screwed. Oh man. I think we’re gonna die,” Erin bellowed, the exhaustion from laughing and the cold seeping in slowly but surely. God, but this was too funny. And ironic. She did this sort of thing to help her feel more alive. To wake her up. And now, for the first time ever, there was a huge chance of her dying from it. What a world. Even as the happy big clam moved closer, her shoulders shook with her giggles and she followed after Cassie. “Your lips are blue! Like so blue!” She howled when she got a look at her quickly. “Are mine blue? Tell me they’re blue. I’ve been in way here longer than you,” she added like it was something to be proud of and hypothermia wasn’t already setting in. They needed to get out of ther--wait, where did her new friend Alain go? “Oh, no,” her eyes grew wide, a hint of a smile on her face, like she was about to tell a delightful secret. “I think Alain got… clammed.”

Cassie tore her gaze away from the carnage and looked Erin over quickly. Her lips weren’t just blue, they were almost neon. “So blue,” Cassie replied, her mouth yammering as her body tried to retain its temperature. “like ice-pop blue,” she nodded, “bluer. Good job.” There weren’t as many people in the water now she realised. Alain now too. Something registered about that for a second. A nasty twinge in the back of her throat that quickly died away. “Clam chowed him” She was down to one of the last few people left in the water now alongside Erin and what she now saw was the mouth of the clam as it propelled itself towards them. That’s not great. “Hey, buddy,” she gestured at the approaching mollusc. “Don’t you move another mussel,” she chattered and felt a bubble of hysteria come to the surface, “you just stay right there,” she pointed at it, narrowing her eyes as if that would make a difference and made to move away but found her legs wouldn’t respond at first, her body giving everything it had to keep her from freezing. Well, shit. The world was her oyster, but there she was going to be taken out by a clam. That sucked. “Man, karma’s a bitch.” She laughed. Here she had spent a chunk of her life looking for this stuff, well she well and truly she found it now. “Think there’s a pearl in there?” Cassie gestured towards its approaching gaping mouth.

He could still hear the laughter from under the surface of the ocean, it was no longer deafening, but the view he had from here was certainly a great contrast to it. There was the blood, of course, colouring the sea a pale red, then there was entrails, which could have been mistaken for seaweed, had it not been for the fluids seeping out of it. Well, he could always have a shower later. Pushing someone out of his way, and another person, he approached the creature from below, one hand grabbing at the tendrils and the other stabbing through the flesh. He pushed the knife to cut the whole thing off. The clam losing its balance fell back into the water and Alain who was used to facing things that at least looked humanoid, found himself for once, facing a creature he had no idea of how to kill. Still seeing that thing open its shells wide, he instinctively tried to shove his arm in there to stab whatever seemed alive in there. Although, having seen how easy this beast had eaten these people, cutting through flesh as if it were better, he was swift to remove his arm from there when it snapped shut. Swift, yes. Swift enough, no. His knife had blocked the clam a little, but from the excruciating pain radiating through his hand, the hunter figured that his knife wasn’t the only thing he wouldn’t retrieving. Border de putain, de bordel de merde, he cursed as he emerged out of the water, kicking the thing down and away from him. “Holy shit,” blood was pouring from his hand. This could not be good news. The pain, still radiating was now making him feel dizzy and as he tried to walk back to the shore, he stumbled and crawled there. At least he had tried, right?

There was a struggle under the water as soon as the clam fell beneath the surface, that much Erin could understand. Was that Alain? He was okay! The clam eventually stopped moving but Alain bolted from the water, leaving a red trail in his wake. It was like the fog was lifting, and the cold was ripping through her. Her bones ached and her teeth wouldn’t stop chattering. Even bits of her hair had frozen where the air had hit it for long enough. “C-c-casssie--” she started, trying to pull her towards the shore. They’d been in the water far too long, and whatever it was that had them laughing like idiots for the past few minutes was slowly but surely fading away, leaving her sober and numb. Had that just happened? Had she just laughed as people were eaten alive by whatever the fuck that thing had been? A clam? A giant clam? Everything was strikingly less funny than it had been moments ago. Her eyes were wide with terror by the time she reached the shore, focusing immediately on the bloody, frozen stump that had been Alain’s finger. “Oh f-f-fuck. We--we’ve gotta go.” She nodded, shaking as she tried to usher him up. Her car was closest, right?

Cassie just about had the presence of mind to register the disturbed water and what was now a very dead clam and Erin pulling at her to move. In the moment that followed the fog cleared. “Oh god,” Cassie snapped out if it with a groan and a jolt and made to get the hell out of the water along with Erin. She stumbled over something solid under the water in her haste and hoped it was just a rock. The further she got from the scene the clearer everything became and the reality hit her full force. “Oh, my g-g-od,” she didn’t want to look back at the water, had to force herself not to look back as she waded out with Erin in tow. God, how long had they been in there with that thing? They’d just stood there. Back on dry land the sting set in again and her limbs burned with cold. Erin had been in there longer she realised. The hell was she still standing? Cassie struggled to grip the discarded fabric on the ground with numbed hands but tossed Erin’s coat back over her. “Okay,” she breathed, “okay,” she searched around and then forgot what she was even looking for in a second of panic. Wait, right, one of her shirts. Grabbing it up with still numbed hands she fumbled with still too numb fingers and made to pass it over to Alain to cover his hand. “H-h-hold it up,” she reached out to elevate Alain’s hand to try and slow the blood flow, “above your shoulder.” She turned towards Erin, “car?”

Alain did not have much time to rest, still he shut his eyes closed, in an attempt to stop his head from spinning. Still, he did not protest when Erin helped him get back up. He looked at his hand, raising it before him with a blank look on his face, as if he was not completely registering what he was seeing. The first and second phalanx of his right ring finger were gone, just like that. He raised his hand some more, above his shoulder, like Cassie said. Okay, take a deep breath Alain, you’re going to be okay, he tried to told himself as a spasm in his stomach urged him to vomit. Nothing got out, and still he was starting to feel really bad. Was he panicking? Oh lord no. When was the last time he had had one of those ? Take a deep breath, come on. Focus on the people around you. He took another deep breath and having reached the cars - he was not sure how they had gotten here- he felt some relief. “Are you okay?” He asked, then shook his head at himself. Was the clam gone? “We’re going to the hospital, right?”

#wickedswriting #potw #chatzy: alain #chatzy: cassie #//what a ride #chatzy

14 notes · View notes