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daddy-chiluc · 4 years ago

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No Future (unedited)

Tw: Breakup, depression

Vent fic

——

What was he to expect? He knew from the start it’d fall apart. Crumble and wilt away, not giving them nearly enough time to bask in each other’s love and warmth. No...there would never be enough time. It was all just faded memories, moments once filled with an untamed happiness turning sour in his mouth, his throat soar as the screams he wanted to let out where trapped. He was trapped. Trapped in his own mind as a pile of regret sat along his once confident shoulders. His burning eyes becoming dark, desperate to hide whatever painful memory had come to mind.

They were fresh. New. The moment he found out he was a Harbinger though it was too late. He was already so deeply in love it filled his lungs, drowning him, grasping at his heart strings and violently pulling him down deeper and deeper. He shouldn’t have said anything. He shouldn’t have asked him to be his partner that night. Maybe they were just high off of Valentines day. High off of the floating, elated feeling of finally being loved by someone. Trusted by someone. Just reminiscing was enough to make his eyes burn. He didn’t want to remember. He never wanted to remember...but it felt like he didn’t have a choice.

They flooded him, swallowing him whole as he gasped for whatever remaining air was left. He felt weak. He should have done more. Why didn’t he do more? Childe could be suffering even more now. Suffering without his aid. This idea alone was enough to cause many sleepless nights filled with anxiety. The suffocating feeling of loneliness returning to its perch overhead. They never had enough time.

His memories were vivid. Vivid and gut wrenching. It made his fingers twitch and his work take up his desk space. He couldn’t distract himself anymore...at least not for awhile. No matter what he did or where he went, there’s was always that faint memory of him haunting him. Even on his darkest evenings, he’d go to his closet and grab the maroon shirt that hung idly behind. Burying his nose into the soft fabric his ex lover left behind, tears staining the dark fabric as his scent overwhelmed him, a broken sob breaking his throat.

He should have done more.

A sad smile caressed his features as his grip tightened on the forgotten shirt. He laughed coldly as he remembered his first kiss. Hidden in the restroom of the tavern as Childe looked at him so fondly. A look of pure adoration and love — the look he gave him burned into his memory as he remembered the Harbinger gently rubbing his thumb along his cheek while he held him so closely, the silent fear of letting him go dancing quietly behind his façade. A fear Diluc didn’t notice. A fear Diluc chose not to notice...because he himself feared the same thing.

He remembered the soft kisses they had, they were long and amateur, his heart fluttering like a teenager. He shouldn’t have been so elated. He should have ended it while it was still fresh...but this thought hadn’t come to mind at the time, far too enamored in Tartaglia’s love. His love blinded him.

His body tremors as recalled their first, and last date. The way they held hands. That’s when he got the maroon shirt. It was a birthday gift. That and many other items. But that was something he held onto dearly. Far too scared to let it go, terrified that he’d forget him. Forget what they had. Perhaps a part of him didn’t want to let it go. He wasn’t ready too.

He tried to recall their moments together. He remembered the day he was horribly sick. He wore his shirt all day, a heavy, nauseating feeling settling in his throat. He returned to the winery, Adeline aiding him as his workers took care of his work for the day. Childe had written him letters that day while he was out at Liyue, too far from Diluc’s reach. He had sent over music for Diluc to listen too, aiding him in finding sleep before he woke up heaving over a toilet.

After that it felt like things started to go downhill. Diluc sending and receiving letters everyday. Good mornings, afternoons and nights. He was so deeply in love with the harbinger that it became reckless. He listened to his stories. Storied of home and pets...stories of himself. How he had dated another male before the Fatui found out. That should have ended it right there...but he was so determined to make them understand.

Six months. Six months was all he needed. An absurd amount of time that was never achieved. The rest of his memories were blurry, his mind swarmed with that day. He had written and sent several letters to Ajax that day...but it wouldn’t subdue that uneasy feeling that filled the pit of his stomach.

The anxiety he felt that day. All he wanted was for him to be okay. To be alright. He didn’t care if he didn’t love him anymore. All he wanted was for him to be safe. Hours ticked by as he checked in with Adeline over and over, asking about any letters from Ajax and always getting the same answer. No sir.

Every time those words left her lips his heart would ache. Where was Ajax? He negotiated with himself, trying to come up with some logical situation. Perhaps he was just on a mission, or, maybe, Ajax had finally gotten tired of him. Diluc started to shut down. Becoming cold in his words and actions as he worked and worked, anything to push away whatever thought haunted him in the back of his mind.

When Adeline rushed to him with a letter however...and overwhelming sense of relief washed over him, perhaps a little too quickly. When he opened the black envelope, he quickly noticed it was from the Tsarista. He read through it over and over.

Ajax had ran from the Fatui? He was safe but...this woman could have very much so seen every “I love you” that Diluc and Ajax exchanged. Every intimate moment and their private love story was out on display for all of Snezhnaya to see. The red head’s body was numb. This was it. This is where it was to end. Only lasting for three, almost four months. It became apparent to Diluc now. It didn’t matter how long they waited...Ajax would never be able to be with Diluc. It was too dangerous.

Diluc had watched the fire mindlessly, asking Adeline go put any letter from Snezhnaya aside until morning. Even amongst the fire, the book that sat heavy in his palms wasn’t enough to distract him. It would never be enough. He couldn’t feel his heartbeat or focus on the task he had given himself. It was so short lived Diluc couldn’t do anything. He felt helpless.

He wasn’t sure when, but soon enough Lisa, Jean and Kaeya had silently made their way into his winery. They saw the winemaker sitting absentmindedly in the seat wearing a deep maroon shirt as he seemed almost lost in the flames performance. They were silent, the pain Diluc felt seeping just under they’re skin. The Uncrowned King of Mondstadt was happy with the Harbinger. Genuinely happy. He smiled and laughed more when he was with him, far too affectionate for a single person to even recognize that it was in fact Diluc with that Harbinger.

It was late now, midnight, and Diluc had disappeared to do his nightly routines. Lisa, the kindhearted woman she was, searched for him only to hear broken sobs from his bathroom as he sung a Snezhnayan tune through his cries. Deciding to let him have his space, Lisa notified Jean and Kaeya, a look of dismay dancing wearily along their features.

Too engorged in the agony the night had brung, they fell victim to sleep while Diluc grasped at the cold empty spot in his sheets. Where Ajax once laid as he quietly played the tune in his room, silently crying himself to sleep, slipping in and out of what was once peaceful to what was now a pained filled memory.

By morning, Diluc was too scared to leave the comfort of his linens. Too scared that if he left, what was left of Ajax would disappear too quickly. He wasn’t ready to let him go. He wanted to see the world with him. To move far away and own pets together, calling them their children and creating their own family out in the middle of nowhere...but now it was all just a dream too out of reach for Diluc to hold on.

Carefully, Kaeya walked in and held Diluc as he broke down in his arms. He had dealt with this woman that had intentions of hurting Diluc. He had read every note this woman had dare sent to the winery and disposed of them, a brutal back and forth of letters that should have taken days but it all happened within an hour. Diluc wouldn’t leave the bed. He would never have a happy ending...he couldn’t. The archons wouldn’t allow him to have a happy ever after.

Hours ticked by as he hugged Childe’s pillow, resting in his spot on the bed as he stared out the window. There was never enough time. He laughed bitterly at himself, Jean had even warned him this would happen and he made no effort to listen. No effort to put a stop to whatever forbidden love story he had hoped to achieve. Here he was now, lying pathetically in his bed because of this impossible love story.

Night had fallen once more and he had never been happier to get a letter from Ajax. He read it over and over. The Harbingers didn’t care for their little escapade...the Tsarista, however, would take “time” he said. Time. Something unknown to Diluc. There was no such thing as time. He knew if he stayed Ajax would only get hurt. He already suffers so much, Diluc didn’t want to add to that list if it wasn’t necessary.

And so...he wrote his, hopefully, final letter. He told Childe that he believed in him from the start, encouraging him to chase his dreams and to be himself even if others said not to. At that, he wished him the best of luck as he sent the letter, signing it and crying on his front porch.

They didn’t have a happy every after. What they had was no future at all. Their moments trapped behind an hourglass that would flop over and over in their minds. That’s all it was.

No future.

—

I’m sorry if it’s messy and a little ooc. I needed to vent pretty badly and Chiluc is my comfort ship and this situation that I went through is kind of the reason why I ship them at all.

Ah, the art of forbidden love.

#ajax #childe #chiluc #diluc #ragnvindr #romance #diluc ragnvindr #gay #hydro and pyro #angst #breakup #depression #trigger warning #forbidden love #rarepairs #red and blue #water and fire #genshin impact

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fuckallthegood0nesweretaken · 4 years ago

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New World CH. Two

Title: Problems

Words: 2,572

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of rape and death (no actual rape or death)

A/N: Here’s chapter two! Hope you enjoy!

If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

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Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

[Y/n]

When you woke up the next morning, Adeline had managed to starfish in her sleep and you laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face. You heard a groan come from behind you and you whipped around to see a sleepy Sam sitting up.

“Jesus, Sam, don’t scare me like that,” you said.

“Sorry,” Sam said with a yawn. You just shook your head and looked around.

“Where’s Dean?”

“Probably outside getting food. You know how he is in the mornings.”

“Good to know that hasn’t changed,” you said with a laugh. Sniffing the air, you smelled eggs and pancakes.

“Seems you haven’t either,” Sam teased.

“Oh hush.”

“We still have your things from before we got separated. Dean brought them into the tent last night while you were sleeping.” Sam pointed to the corner of the tent and you saw a duffel and a backpack.

“Thanks.”

“Get dressed then come get breakfast. We still have people to introduce you to.”

“Alright. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Sam gave you a smile before leaving the tent. You quickly got dressed and when you were putting on your shoes, Adeline woke up.

“Mommy!” She launched herself at you and you caught her with a grunt.

“Hey, baby,” you cooed as you picked her up. Adeline buried her face in your neck and clung to you.

“I missed you,” she said, sniffing lightly.

“Oh, baby, I missed you too.” You pressed a kiss to her hair and set her down. Wiping away her tears, you looked her in the eyes. “Why don’t you get dressed and we can go get some breakfast, yeah?”

“Okay.”

You kissed her forehead and helped her pick out an outfit for the day. Once she was all ready to go, the two of you walked out of the tent and to the campfire where breakfast was being served.

“You’re up, good!” Carol said. She came up to you with two plates full of food and handed one to you and the other to Adeline. “I was just about to see if you were awake or not.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it,” you said to her with a smile. “Do you know where my brothers are?”

“They’re over by the house, talking with Rick and Hershel.” She started walking away and you followed her to the fire.

“Hershel?”

“The owner of the farm.”

“Ah, okay. Makes sense. What are they talking about? Or is it a need to know thing?” You asked.

“Now that Sophia’s found, they’re trying to see if Hershel will let us stay on the farm.”

“I hope they do. It seems like a relatively safe place,” you said. “A place where these kids can grow up.”

“I agree. Now why don’t you two go sit down and enjoy the food. I’m sure that the others would love to get to know you better.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sweetie.” Carol poked Ada’s nose, making her giggle and you smile, before she walked away.

Stomach growling, you sat down and ripped into your food. Moaning quietly, you didn’t see Lori piling more food on your plate or your brothers coming out of the house. Nobody complained about you getting extra food and you jumped when you felt a hand on your head. Reaching for your knife, Lori stopped you before you could stab Dean.

“Woah, easy sweetheart. It’s just me,” Dean said.

“Sorry,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Morning.”

“Morning,” he said to you. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before sitting next to you, placing Ada on his lap. “Sorry for scaring you.”

“It’s okay. Guess I’ve just been a bit tense.”

“How did you make it all alone?” Dale asked. “Don’t want to offend, but you’re a small little thing. All by yourself all that time?”

“It helped that I already knew how to use a gun and how to fight hand to hand with and without a knife. I already knew how to make traps and hunt so if I was successful I had something to eat. Slept in trees if there wasn’t any shelter around. I’m also light on my feet and know how to get around without being spotted.” You shrugged and shoved more food in your mouth.

“She took me down pretty easy,” Daryl said through a mouthful of food. “I didn’t even know she was there ‘til a knife was at my throat.”

“Atta girl,” Dean said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you said to Dean. To Daryl you said, “I am sorry about that. You snuck up on me and I panicked.”

“Thought I was a geek?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I knew you weren’t one of them.”

“You were worried about people?” Rick asked.

“Yeah. It was about a month ago I think. Time is a blur so I don’t remember exactly when I saw them, but there was a dad and his two daughters. Four men came along and did, uh, things to the girls. They were maybe fifteen or sixteen, just kids, and made their dad watch. Didn’t even kill him. Just left afterwards. Two of them didn’t do anything but one of them looked like he wanted to.” You swallowed harshly. “Heard your footsteps and thought you were part of their group.”

“What made ya follow me?” Daryl said after a moment.

“Your voice, the tone of it. Your actions too. They would’ve started sweet-talking me, trying to lull me into a false sense of security. You didn’t do that.” Looking at him with a small smile, you turned back to your food.

“That’s awful,” Carol said quietly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not the worst I’ve seen. But thank you.”

“You done with your food, [y/n]?” Lori asked you. You nodded and she took your plate.

“I’m gonna introduce you to Hershel,” Rick said. “C’mon.”

“Don’t leave mommy!” Adeline said as she tried to get out of Dean’s hold.

“I’ll be right back, baby. Don’t you worry.” You brushed her hair back and Adeline nodded slowly.

Sam took your plate from you and pushed you towards Rick lightly.

“Hershel is a veterinarian. He’s been helping heal any wounded. He helped save Carl, my son, and T-Dog,” Rick said as he led you to the house.

“What happened to Carl?”

“He got shot,” Rick said. “One of his men was hunting a buck and didn’t see Carl approaching it. Bullet went clean through the deer and hit Carl. He almost died but Hershel saved him.”

“Any lasting consequences?”

“Not so far. We’re still making him take it slow, but he should be alright.”

“Good.” You let out a sigh and Rick opened the door to the house.

“After you.”

---

“Hershel, this is Sam and Dean’s sister, [y/n]. Daryl found her and Sophia in the woods while searching for Sophia yesterday.”

“It’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

“Nice to meet you too. I heard about what you did to save that little boy’s life. And I am really grateful you’re giving my daughter a safe place to stay.”

“It was the right thing to do,” Hershel said. You shook your head.

“The worlds gone to shit, excuse my language. It might have been the right thing to do, but most men wouldn’t have done it. Whatever you need, just ask.”

“I appreciate it. Have you met my daughters yet?” You shook your head and he introduced you to Maggie and Beth.

“Patricia and Jimmy are doing some chores around the farm, but I’ll make sure to introduce you to them before dinner. For now, you can use the shower if you’d like. We have hot water, but go easy on it. Maggie, could you show her to the bathroom?”

“Yes. Follow me.”

You followed Maggie up the stairs as she led you to a bathroom.

“Feel free to use whatever shampoo and soap you’d like. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Maggie,” you said. “I do really appreciate you letting me use your hot water.”

“It’s no problem. I’ll leave you to yourself.”

“Alright.”

She left, closing the door and you started stripping with a sigh. Turning on the water, you didn’t have to wait long until it was hot. When you stepped under the water, you let out a groan of satisfaction and started washing yourself. It felt good to massage and clean your hair, not having shampooed since the world went to shit. You went as fast as you could, not wanting to use all of their hot water accidentally.

Stepping out when you were squeaky clean, you toweled off and redressed before walking out of the bathroom. It felt weird being in a house that wasn’t run down and even though you knew it was safe enough, you still wanted to get back outside.

“That was a quick shower,” Maggie said when you got to the living room.

“Didn’t want to use all the hot water. I’m known for long showers,” you said with a laugh.

“Me too. Wish I had the resources to do it again, but we gotta live with what we got. Your brothers are outside and so is Adeline,” Maggie said.

“Thanks.” Before you left, you turned to her. “I hope we can get to know each other better. You seem like a good person.”

“I was thinking the same thing. After you get settled, we can talk?”

“I’d like that.” You both smiled at each other and you walked outside. When you got to the camp, everyone was tense and you could tell that something was wrong.

“What happened?” You asked, picking Adeline up.

“Glenn just told us that the barn is full of walkers,” Carol said.

“It’s what?”

You walked with everyone to the barn and looked inside with Shane after handing Adeline over to Sam.

“What the fuck?” You said to yourself. Walking backwards with a shake of your head, you looked at Rick.

“You can’t tell me you’re alright with this,” Shane said to Rick. “You have Lori and Carl to think about here. There’s the girls too.”

“I’m not okay with it. But we’re guests. This isn’t our land!”

“But it’s our lives man!”

“Be quiet,” Glenn said, glancing worriedly at the barn.

“We can’t just go about our day and forget about this,” Andrea said.

“I agree. It’s too dangerous. Something could happen and it isn’t right,” you said to Rick. “I know this isn’t our land but we can’t just let this go.”

“We gotta go in there. We’ve got to make things right or we need to leave. We can go to Fort Benning.”

“We can’t leave, Shane!” Rick said.

“Why?”

“Because this is a place where these kids can grow up,” Carol said. “[Y/n] agrees with me too.”

Shane looked exasperated and shook his head.

“A place where the owner keeps walkers in his barn?”

“Look, we need to figure this out, but arguing amongst ourselves isn’t going to do any fucking good!” You said angrily. “This needs to be a calm conversation. No accusing, no yelling.”

“You just agreed with me and now you’re taking his side?” Shane said to you. “If you’re gonna do that, you should just stay quiet. Don’t need the opinion of someone who just got here.”

“I’m taking no one’s side right now. Yes, we need to deal with the walkers, but we also can’t just up and leave a safe place without talking about it rationally! And it doesn’t matter if I just got here or not, I’m here now so keep that in mind.”

“Just let me and Rick talk to Hershel,” Sam said. “Let us figure it out.”

“What are you gonna figure out?!” Shane yelled at Sam. You flinched at his booming voice but steeled yourself and shoved a finger into his chest, anger in your eyes.

“Don’t you dare yell at my brother like that,” you said coldly. “I don’t care if you’re angry, you don’t get to do that.”

Shane looked at you and he huffed angrily before rolling his eyes and looking away. Adeline was starting to get a little anxious and reached for you. Taking her in your arms, you tried calming her down.

“This is his land. If we clear out the barn I’m going to need to talk to him.”

“Hershel sees those things as people,” Dale said. “Sick people. His wife, stepson. People he cared about.”

“You knew?” Rick asked him.

“I talked to Hershel yesterday.”

“And you waited the night?” Shane accused.

“I thought we could survive one more night. And we did! I was waiting to say something this morning, but Glenn wanted to be the one to tell.”

“If Hershel thinks those things are alive, he’s crazy, Rick!” Shane yelled.

At that moment, the walkers started banging on the barn doors, trying to get out. You took a step back and Sam pulled you slightly behind him as you all looked warily at the barn.

“We need to take this conversation somewhere else,” you said. “If we keep arguing here, they’re going to get out and cause trouble.”

“She’s right,” Daryl said. “’Sgo back ta camp.”

Shane stormed off and the rest of the group followed close behind. You stayed at the back of the group with your brothers. Sam was silent for a minute but kept opening his mouth to say something.

“You don’t have to defend me against Shane,” he said.

“If he talks to you like that then I will. You’re right, we need to talk to Hershel about it. But he also has a point, Sam. We can’t just let this go.”

“I know. When did you get so grown up?”

“I’ve always been more grown up than you, Sammy,” you said with a laugh. You walked past them and towards camp. Sitting down, you started comforting an anxious Adeline, and Carol came up to you.

“Thank you for defending me,” she said. “You don’t even know us that well but you still did.”

“Even though I’ve never met y’all, you took care of my daughter and brothers. I’ve been on my own out there and it’s hell. A safe place is what we need right now and I’ll keep defending you even if that asshole thinks I shouldn’t.”

Carol laughed softly and pulled you close. “Thank you,” she whispered. After a second, she let go and went to the stables.

Looking around, you scanned the horizons, looking for any threats. The barn full of walkers made you super uneasy and on edge. Your hand never left your knife and you tensed when you heard someone walking up to you. Turning, you saw Dean and you relaxed a bit.

“Hey,” you said with a smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uneasy,” you said honestly.

“Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

“Has it always been like that?” You asked Dean. “The two of them yelling at each other?”

“A little bit, yeah. But it has gotten worse.”

After a minute of silence, you looked at your brother. “Do they know about what we did before the world ended?”

“They do. The only ones that don’t are Hershel and his family. He’s a bit religious and doesn’t have the same view on walkers as we do, so we thought it might be best not to let them know just yet.”

“I think that’s a good idea.”

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead x reader #supernatural x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #daryl dixon #The Walking Dead #supernatural

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 4 years ago

Text

Normal Love and Superheroes: Two - my city

Summary: Leena gets a meeting with the Bruce Wayne himself and a call from John Blake.

Pairing: John Blake x OFC (Leena Duckett)

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: none I think...characters discuss Sexy Times and getting drunk but like that’s it I suppose

“Why the heck would he want a private tour with me? He asked for me specifically?”

“Look that’s what he said over the phone, Leena.”

“But did he say why?”

“I’m so terribly sorry I didn’t take the time to ask Bruce frickin’ Wayne, one of the biggest patrons of the gallery, why he asked for a tour from you specifically.”

Leena blushed. “Sorry, Adeline. I just…”

“Don’t worry about it.” The blonde sitting behind the welcome desk smiled with a closed mouth. “I’d react the same way if I were in your shoes. A whole hour or more with Bruce Wayne….”

Another tour guide jogged up to the front desk from the bowels of the gallery. Leena turned and watched her approach. Phoebe had a look of conspiracy and impression on her long face. She came to a halt beside Leena and elbowed her in the side.

“So are you gonna take Mr. Wayne into one of the more….Private rooms of the gallery?” Phoebe asked with a wicked smile.

Leena rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the hot feeling that was spreading from her neck into her face. It was no secret about Gotham that Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, was extremely attractive and constantly single. She saw the tabloid covers as she stood in line at the grocery store. She even ran into him outside of a restaurant one time. But his sexual promiscuity was not what bothered her about giving him a private tour. It was more the fact that he was Bruce Wayne, billionaire enigma businessman that seemed to have intimidation come out of his very pores. Who was she to be giving him a tour of the galleries that he often bought from? A no-name artist who worked two jobs, one of which she hated, to make ends meet? That didn’t sound like the kind of girl that should be giving a Wayne tours of anything.

“No I will not, Phoebe, Jesus!” Leena laughed.

“Oh, come on, have you seen him? Plus, you know he’d be open to it. He’s slept with every hot girl in Gotham and beyond.”

“Just cause he’s slept around doesn’t mean he’d be open to swapping spit in a broom closet with a random gallery tour guide.” Leena rolled her eyes. “Maybe he wants just a normal day out. Like anyone else.”

“God, you’re no fun,” Phoebe groaned.

“I think we know from after hours drinks just how fun Leena can be,” Adeline, the front desk girl, pitched in.

Leena rolled her eyes again and smirked. She always told herself, after those nights out, that she would never fall into the temptation of going again. She always got way too drunk, being a lightweight that fell very easily under peer pressure. And because she always got way too drunk, she always ended up doing something she regretted. Like dancing on top of a table, kissing some random person in the dark corner of the bar they frequented, or possibly recreating dance scenes from Chicago with very little success.

“Please stop,” Leena begged with a red face.

“Excuse me ladies.” An older gentleman with an English accent approached the front desk. He looked very nice in a dark suit with white thinning hair. “I’m here for my tour of the gallery.”

“Of course, what’s the name attached to the tour?” Adeline asked.

Phoebe squeezed Leena’s arm and wiggled her eyebrows before she trotted off, back into the gallery. And Leena was about to do the same, but —

“Bruce Wayne. I run his house and am looking for some new work to be put up. I believe I set aside a tour guide already?” the old man said.

“Oh, yes, you did.” Adeline typed on the computer for a moment, giving Leena a bit of side-eye as she did so. “You’ll be touring with Ms. Duckett.”

Leena let out a breath. A sudden wash of relief and disappointment running through her. She knew that the gallery was the place for many of Gotham’s most elite families to buy art for their various homes throughout the world. Rich folk wanting to support local artists. But she had never given a tour to any actual members of those families. It was always the butlers, the house runners, the managers, the publicists even. But they always state that it is the butler or the house runner coming to assess new pieces that have been put up. So when Bruce Wayne’s actual name was logged into the system, Leena really thought it was going to be him walking through the halls of their gallery. Really laying his eyes on the art and choosing it for himself rather than someone else choosing it for him and barely even noticing that it was hung in his manor. The disappointment didn’t last long, however.

Leena stepped towards the old man with a smile. “And I am Ms. Duckett. A pleasure to meet you…”

“Alfred, miss.” He held out his hand and she shook it.

“Well, right this way, Alfred.” She gestured for them to enter the gallery and she began to lead. “We’ll start with our glassworks suite — “

They entered the first room of the gallery. The Shefield Gallery was extensive, housing several different mediums of art from a variety of artists. Pure white walls to off balance the bright pops of color that the artwork created, heightening the customer intrigue. In this first room there were at least fourteen pedestals strewn about the room, each one holding a different piece of glass artwork. Leena liked to look at glasswork, but would probably never attempt creating any herself. Molten glass just seemed a little too dangerous for her taste.

“Actually, sorry to be a bother, but I was hoping to look at something specific on this trip.” Alfred pulled a piece of paper from his suit jacket pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Leena. “A piece specifically requested by Master Wayne.”

Leena stopped them and took the piece of paper with raised brows. It was a print out from the gallery’s website. Her eyes widened.

That was her painting. Put up in the employee suite of the gallery after much begging and finally the curator taking pity on her for being a slightly hungry artist.

She looked back up at Alfred to see him smiling at her. She quickly regained herself and asked, “Um — are you sure it’s this one that Mr. Wayne wants?”

“Yes. That’s the one.”

With a resigned nod and a thick swallow, Leena led Alfred to the employee suite. She could feel her fingers going numb. Bruce Wayne wanted her painting? Really? He asked for it specifically? She was sure that the old man had to be lying to her for her benefit. Playing some sort of weird joke that ended with her humiliated and a playboy billionaire laughing at the footage of her misfortune. Or maybe there was no farce and the man really did like her painting so much he wanted to buy it and hang it in his home. Leena rubbed at her neck. He would be the first person to ever like her work enough to do so.

They came to the employee suite and Leena stopped them in front of the painting in question. She put her head down as Alfred looked at it. His thin lips were quirked up in a small smile but she couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing.

“Pick your head up, miss,” he said, “I know you painted this.”

“Is that why you asked for me for your tour?” Leena asked.

“It is indeed.” His smile widened. “Master Wayne wanted me to see what kind of person could paint something like that.”

He pointed to the canvas and Leena furrowed her brows. She turned to the painting herself. Was there some vulgar message she, the artist, had missed? No. She couldn’t see it. All she saw was a portrait of Gotham at night. Done in oil paints on a medium sized canvas, Leena had always been told she leaned too far into her impressionist influences. But she couldn’t help it. Ordinary subject matter with a heightened sense of romanticism and color was something that Leena was just drawn too. The painting was Gotham at night, looking out over the skyline with the lights from the offices and apartments shining brightly, as if the viewer were looking down from the highest story of some building or other. In the glowing rooms in the foreground, people could be seen. Families, tired office workers, friends getting together.

She had titled the painting My City.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean,” she said, turning back to Alfred.

“Master Wayne sees Gotham as a dark place — a place full of hate, injustice, and cruelty,” Alfred said.

Leena pulled a face. “While I will not disagree with Mr. Wayne — Gotham is full of the worst kinds of things — but it is also still worth saving. And loving. And living in if only to save it and love it more.”

Alfred smiled, a soft and knowing thing that made Leena’s eyes narrow.

“And Master Wayne would agree with that sentiment as well.” He turned to the painting again, hands clasped behind his back. “Which is why he was drawn to your work so much. You share similar views on a city that many have lost faith in — a rare find, especially in art form.”

Leena was puzzled. Bruce Wayne grew up in Gotham, just like she did. But they saw completely different sides of Gotham. Wayne saw only the elite, the rich, the famous side. The side that lived in penthouse suites, owned entire blocks of buildings, and could afford to eat at those fancy restaurants downtown. The faces of Gotham City. While Leena saw the hands and feet, the workers and the heart and soul of Gotham. The side that worked fifty hour weeks, lived in the slums, and had to cut up and burn their own furniture to keep warm. Gotham wasn’t worth saving because of the side that Bruce Wayne saw, that made it worth damnation. Gotham was worth saving because of what Leena saw.

“Um — well — uh — I…I don’t really know what to say. I wish I could tell Mr. Wayne thank you in person.”

Alfred seemed to get an idea. “How about you deliver the painting in person to Wayne Manor? Tomorrow perhaps? You could thank him in person and he would get to meet the artist behind the painting that has captivated him for so long. That is, if you are free, of course.”

“Well, if he wanted to do that he could have come himself today.” Leena couldn’t stop the words before they came out of her mouth.

Her eyes widened as she stared at Alfred. God, she really needed to learn how to control her mouth. She could feel her neck heating up and her face paling all at the same time. Her face scrunched up as she closed her eyes. Maybe if she didn’t look at him he would just go away or she would just sink into the floor. Either option would spare her from the agonizing embarrassment ripping through her right now.

“I’m so — “

Alfred chuckled. He actually started laughing. A polite and somehow very British thing that had Leena’s eyes flying open.

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Ms. Duckett,” he chuckled out, “But Master Wayne has turned into a bit of a recluse as of late. And I really do think he would appreciate meeting you.”

Leena bit down hard on her lip. If it meant making the $500 the painting was priced at, she was willing to do anything honestly. Even it meant borrowing Jamie’s car and meeting the actual Bruce fricking Wayne himself. That was enough money to pay her half of the rent for the month and she only had to do one thing. Not work her ass off at two different jobs. Her need for the money more than outweighed her apprehensions about meeting a billionaire and talking to him about her art and her thoughts on Gotham.

“Alright. Tomorrow at three o’clock. Is that an okay time?”

“Oh, yes. Just in time for tea.”

_______________________________________________________________________

“Please could you stop the noise? I’m trying to get some rest,” Leena sang as she cleaned her paint brushes, “From all the unborn chicken voices in my head!”

She moved back to the canvas she had set up by the windows overlooking the city. Who knew getting a meeting with one of Gotham’s most influential men would give her inspiration for a new painting? The reference photo of Bruce Wayne was tacked into the corner of the canvas. She had gotten the idea on the train ride and subsequent bus ride back to her apartment when her shift at the gallery was over. Something about Bruce Wayne being a recluse and seeing the good in Gotham just gave her a spark of inspiration. A spark of inspiration to lesson her fears about meeting the man by painting him as a vigilante sasquatch.

It was at least making her feel better about the whole thing. Jamie had walked in from her own work shift with many questions about it. But Leena had only held up a finger for patience and put her headphones back in. Jamie knew what that meant. Her roommate had had a weird day and needed to vent through her art.

Leena continued to paint for some time. Lost in the music and the colors and shapes that flowed from her paintbrush. Leena’s mother had given her paints and paper when she was very little as a distracting craft while she tried to clean around the house. But her mother could not have known that that would have sparked a lifelong love for art and painting. A dedication to get better and better and find her own style. Winning contests, medals, and even studying art in college. Leena felt the most at home when she was painting. Felt the most herself when she had a brush in her hand and a vision in her head that just needed to be let out.

This was one of those ideas she just knew would consume her every waking, and possibly sleeping, thought until she got it out and onto the canvas. Vigilante sasquatch Bruce Wayne was going to camp out in her cerebral cortex until she had brought him to life. Trekking through the woods, covered in body hair, wearing a stupid bright red face mask. If he thought the city was so worth saving, then why didn’t he give money to the police department so they had the tools to catch the criminals loose on Gotham’s streets? Why didn’t he donate money to improve Gotham’s infrastructure, education, hospitals, mental health services, or literally anything else besides funneling money into his own company?

If she were to see him right now, she would have a piece of her mind to give him that was —

Her phone started vibrating in the pocket of her apron. Leena groaned. She had gotten into such a good groove, too. She pulled out her iPod first and paused her music. Then she flipped open her phone and held it up to her ear. She didn’t even bother to see who was calling. Her mother usually called around that time of day anyway.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” she asked as she pinched the phone between her cheek and shoulder.

“Uh — “ A distinctly male voice came through. “Sorry, this is John Blake. Were you expecting your mom to call you? Cause I can call back later.”

Oh, God. After realizing that, in her euphoria, she had forgotten to get his number, she had been waiting to hear from him for nearly two days.

“Oh, shit,” she said, quickly wiping her paint stained hands off on her apron, “Um, no — sorry. Sorry. I wasn’t — with my mom. I can talk now. Officer Blake — John. Officer Blake?”

At the mention of that name, Jamie peeked her head out from the gap in the curtains surrounding her bed with a look of pure interest on her face. Mouth open and her eyebrows raised as she looked across the room. Leena shooed her away with a wave of her hand and an uncontrollable smile.

“You can just call me John,” he laughed, “You getting around okay without the bike?”

“Uh, yeah. Taking the train and the bus — definitely throwing my budget out of whack but — that doesn’t matter…At all.” Leena glanced over at Jamie, still listening in, only to see her roommate roll her eyes.

When did she get so terrible at talking to men?

“Well, I have some good news for you.” Leena could feel her heart jump into her mouth, making her physically stand on tip toe and stare out the window as he continued to speak. “I found it. So — uh, where do you wanna go for our date?”

Leena squeezed her eyes shut, the smile on her face nearly hurting her cheeks as she tilted her head towards the ceiling. Was this really happening? After Jacob, she didn’t know if she would ever find anyone else. If she would be willing to put herself out there like that again. But with John, something felt different. He was safe, kind, and somehow she just knew that he would never hurt her like Jacob did. She twirled around once and she could hear Jamie whispering, asking what was going on. Leena ignored her roommate.

“How about Superdawg?”

Superdawg? Jamie mouthed with an unbelieving face.

“That hotdog place over by Robinson Park?”

“Uh, yeah.”

She heard him chuckle. “Sorry. I just suppose I expected you to pick something a bit more…I don’t know…”

“I’m not a fancy kind of girl, trust me.” Leena laughed. “We could eat and then maybe take a walk around the park or something? If that sounds good to you — I don’t — “

“No, that — that sounds great, actually. Honestly, kinda glad you didn’t pick something fancy.”

“Okay, cool.” Leena looked over at Jamie with raised brows and a wide smile. “Uh, what time?”

“Saturday — tomorrow at six? I can pick you up?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, Leena.” She loved the sound of him saying her name. “Bye.”

“Bye.” She flipped her phone closed and turned to face Jamie with fists triumphant in the air. “I have a date! And I’m getting my bike back!”

#the dark knight rises #john blake #john blake imagine #john blake x reader #john blake x you #john blake x oc #dark knight #dark knight imagine #dark knight fic #dark knight fanfic #dark knight fanfiction #john blake fic #john blake fanfic #john blake fanfiction #joseph gordon levitt #jgl #nolan batman #dark knight trilogy

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mrslittletall · 4 years ago

Note

Oh, sorry about that last ask, honestly forgot about fandom asdhyhyd um, same number, but bloodborne and the orphan of kos? weird choice i know

Title: Mindless Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Orphan of Kos Word Count: 2.270 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30595280

Summary: After her death, Lady Maria is stuck in a nightmare. After she finds out, that the Hamlet is behind the place she has awoken in, she goes investigating.

(Author's note:

14: Mindless

It is incredibly difficult to come up with something for a boss that exists only as some kind of concept in a nightmare, so I decided to go with an outsider POV for this. So, this might have turned more into a Lady Maria character study, so sorry if that wasn't what you were looking for, anon. It was just the only way I could think about how to make this prompt work.)

Maria had died, but she hadn't found peace.

She had awoken again, in the very clocktower in which she had taken her own life. Around her, the research hall, housing all the patients, the... the experiments. Maria had always refused to call them like this, she always had treated them as humans, regardless of how much the church was dehumanizing them.

Maria had tried to get out of the Research Hall. She needed to see where she was. She was sure that she had died, but the Research Hall looked like an exact copy of what she remembered. She made it through a prison block, one of the Healing Church and once she stepped outside, she knew that she indeed had died.

What laid in front of her, was a nightmarish version of Yharnam, mostly of Cathedral Ward. A fake light shone down on it, a pale, lifeless light and as she wandered through it, hunters and beasts were locked in an eternal battle. This place truly was a nightmare... a nightmare for hunters, and Maria had been a hunter herself.

True, she had quit the job, cast her weapon away and turned to comfort the patients in the Research Hall, but when she looked down at her hip, she could see the very same Rakuyo she had cast away and she was clothed in her garb, right up to the feathered hat.

Maria returned to the clocktower and sat down, waiting. She was dead and wasn't getting hungry or thirsty or tired. Most of the time she did just... think. Think about how her death had affected the ones she left behind. Gehrman, Micolash, Laurence... Adeline, the blood saint in the Research Hall she had taken a liking too. She was here as well, at least a version of her that her mind must have been fabricated. Maria felt that the Research Hall was her own personal hell, like the hunters outside were locked into an endless cycle of the hunt.

Maria could hear it. The sounds behind the big clock. The rushing of waves. The dripping of water. She could smell it, the faint smell of salt and the much more prominent smell of rotten fish.

She knew that behind the door there would lay something that scared her even more than the Research Hall... but one day she couldn't bear it anymore. She needed to know.

So Maria got up from her chair, in which she must have sat for days. Or weeks. Or months. Or years. Time wasn't a concept in this place, so she didn't know, only that it had been a long time.

She faced the structure behind her and held up an item known as the celestial dial, knowing that it would open the way. After the hole had fully opened, Maria took a deep breath, even though she didn't need to breathe anymore and stepped through it.

There was a small cave, but once she traversed it, Maria saw her true nightmare right in front of her eyes.

The Fishing Hamlet...

It felt like ages had passed since she had been sent here alongside Gehrman. Because of their combat prowess they had been chosen to take care of any attacks, so that the scholars could work unhindered. Maria hadn't questioned it back then. She had trusted Master Willem's word, that they were doing the right thing, that the villagers of the Hamlet were in the wrong for keeping the treasure of the stranded Great One for themselves.

That it had been Byrgenwerth and not the Healing Church, made the whole thing even worse. The Healing Church hadn't even existed back then. Laurence had been in the middle of his blood research, having been excluded from the trip, because Master Willem had been against it. Of course the sneaky bastard still had found a way to follow them and harvest the blood of the Great One while everyone else had been distracted. Still, Maria had acted under the order of Byrgenwerth. She had done atrocious things in the name of knowledge... atrocious things she wanted to absolve while serving the Church, only to realize that she had gone from serving one monster to serve another monster. Still, she could have believed it far more if the Healing Church had been the one to attack the Hamlet.

In a sense, the Healing Church started in Byrgenwerth, so she shouldn't be too surprised.

Maria continued walking, the shallow water washing around her boot, cold water dousing her feet. There was a figure limping forward, mumbling something about Byrgenwerth, but when she stayed to listen, she quickly realized that they didn't notice her, forever caught in their ramblings.

Approaching the village, Maria's hands encompassed her Rakuyo. She couldn't preclude the possibility that the nightmare had conjured the villagers, the one Willem had let cut open to search for eyes in their brain, to attack anyone approaching their sanctuary.

For some reason, nobody disturbed her. She could cross the village without fail. Sometimes she heard sounds, the splashing of water, the shuffling of feet, the creaking of wood... along with the prominent smell of fish, that had dried on land for a little too long, but nobody ever stood in her way.

Maria stopped when she came upon a certain well. She knew this well. That had been the well she had tossed her Rakuyo in. Once again, her grip around her Rakuyo tightened. She knew that her gear wasn't real, and was a fabrication of the dream, but she asked herself if she still would find a Rakuyo in there... her Rakuyo...

Maria had to wrest herself free from her thoughts. This wasn't why she had come here. She had another goal.

So, she continued walking, each step filling her boots with more water, until her feet were freezing and her whole body shivered, even though she knew that she wasn't alive anymore. Her body still made her believe that she was alive...

Maria stepped out of the cave, approaching the corpse on the shore. Kos, the Great One they had come here for. The Great One which Laurence had harvested the blood from. The Great One which Willem had cut open to take a piece of her unborn child...

All Great Ones lose their children and long for a surrogate. The thought was predominant in Maria's head. Did they really lose their children or did humans take them? A question that she would never get an answer too...

She didn't even know why she had come here. To make up for her crimes? To get answers? That was something she could never make up for. Maybe she had simply come to apologize.

So, Maria kneeled down in front of Kos and folded her hands in prayer, when something stirred inside the dead body.

Maria was on her feet immediately, her Rakuyo on the ready, her eyes fixated on Kos' stomach.

Something... crawled out of Kos, no... it looked... looked like she gave birth. But that couldn't be. She knew that the child had been dead. She had been a part of killing it. Maria gasped as the creature was completely “born” and slowly got up. That wasn't... that surely didn't look like a child. It was large, with grey skin, managed to step up on two feet and... actually still was connected to the placenta of its mother.

It looked like the most nightmarish thing she had seen and she was currently stuck in a nightmare.

Still, the way it stood there, the way it seemed to wail, that was nothing but a lost, confused and scared child.

Maria lowered her Rakuyo and took a step closer.

“Hey.”, she said. “I am not here to-”

Before she could even finish her sentence the child approached her with a blood-curdling scream. Maria gasped in shock and surprise and stepped out of the way, to not be crushed by this giant placenta, that the creature used like a mace.

“I am not here to fight!”, she screamed, trying to drown out their screams. “I want to talk!”

She didn't have any luck. The creature continued to attack her and with Maria refusing to fight back, she quickly became overwhelmed and felt how her body got crushed under the “club” of the creature.

When she awoke, she was back in the Astral Clocktower. She let out a deep sigh, of course she wouldn't be able to escape this nightmare by dying in it. She was forced to come back again and again, just like the hunters and the beasts.

She very well remembered what had happened. The creature... the child... They had attacked her. Did they think she was responsible for the death of their mother? While Maria wasn't responsible for Kos' death, the Great One had been dead when they found her, she was responsible for the death of the child.

The child couldn't know that. It got born, saw a dead mother and attacked the first person they thought responsible. In their sense, they were an orphan and upset about it. There were so many things Maria didn't know about the Great Ones, but she was sure that they wouldn't differ in wanting to have the comfort of their parents.

Maria decided to meet the orphan another time and see if she could help. They didn't want to listen to her. They probably weren't aware of them being in a nightmare and Maria just wanted to help.

So she went to the shore another time. The Orphan of Kos, Maria had decided to call them like that, was still there. As soon as she approached them, they were back at attacking her.

“Stop it!”, Maria screamed. “I know you have every right to hate me, but it won't do anything good! We are both stuck in a nightmare!”

Again, Maria was struck down and woke up at the Astral Clocktower. Again, Maria went back to meet the Orphan of Kos.

This time she fought back. If the Orphan didn't want to listen, she would make it listen and if that meant to beat some sense into it, so that it would finally stop attacking her.

Maria had to learn the hard way that the Orphan only got stronger the more it got cornered. She still felt the aftershock of its electric attack when she woke up in her chair again.

Their encounters continued like that. Maria knew that she would be able to just strike the Orphan down if she would get all out, but she despised using her blood powers and she didn't want to strike them down, she wanted to talk. She only fought because the Orphan didn't want to listen.

So they fought each time they met and slowly, Maria mentioned to gain the upper hand, finally having figured out how to best avoid the Orphan's attacks and striking their weak points to make them yield. During this time, she actually cherished not being able to die anymore, that surely gave her infinite tries. Being dead had its merits after all.

Finally, Maria managed to overpower the Orphan, her sword at their throat and her foot on their chest, as they trashed and flailed beneath her.

“Finally.”, Maria said. “Will you finally listen? I only wanted to talk. About all this here. The nightmare around us. The fact that it seems to be a cruel warp of the reality I tried to escape. That the Fishing Hamlet is here. Why you stayed in your mother's belly for so many years. I just want to try and help.” Or did she? Had she really come here just to help? Wasn't she here to find some answers about her suffering...?

There wasn't an answer, just more thrashing and flailing. Maria had to give her best to not be knocked off. “I just want some answers!”, she suddenly cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. Who had decided for her that she should keep living in this nightmare? Who had cursed her for all eternity? Why did she have to relive the things she wanted to forget over and over again.

“Tell me! You are the source of this nightmare, are you not?!”

Maria startled at the sound of her own voice. That wasn't like her. She had always been kind and compassionate, not furious, holding a sword at the throat of what was classified as a toddler.

Wiping the tears out of her eyes, she took a deep breath and looked the Orphan in the eyes... and that is when she noticed it.

“You don't even have a mind...”, she said. “You weren't even allowed to be born. This, all of this, it's just a manifestation of my own guilt and shame.”

Maria removed her Rakuyo from the Orphan's throat and the next thing she knew was that she was back in the Astral Clocktower.

With a sigh, she sat down on the sole chair there, picking up a photograph to look at. “We should have never come to the Hamlet.”, she murmured. “If we had just left Kos alone, nothing of this would have ever happened.”

Maria put the photograph to the side and sank down into her chair. There was no escape out of this nightmare, but she knew what her task in it was. Whoever would make it into it from the waking world, she would step up and prevent them from going further. She would keep the secret of the Hamlet, even in her own death.

Because a corpse should be well left alone. (Author's note: I am not super satisfied with this one, but I hope you enjoy it regardless. Like I said, it was a difficult prompt with a difficult character. Sadly we don't have much lore about Kos and the Orphan of Kos and the Fishing Hamlet is one of the biggest lore messes in the whole world of Bloodborne.)

#bloodborne #fanfiction #lady maria of the astral clocktower #orphan of kos #request fill #march of the whumps #ask answered #thx for the ask #littlewritesstuff #Anonymous

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angelofthequeers · 4 years ago

Text

Bullseye

Rating: T

Summary: Nino's invited his friends for a nice night of darts with him and his father. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right?

Slot: 1-2.5k fic

Written for an anonymous donator for the @mlbforblm drive as a pool request! The donations go directly to Color of Change, an organisation for racial justice, and don’t pass through our hands at all. I’ve still got slots open, so come and commission me or another of the amazing contributors!

AO3 link

“I can’t believe you guys agreed to this,” Nino says as he follows his father Mehdi into the small building, Alya’s fingers linked with his. Marinette and Adrien trail behind, murmuring to each other about something to do with roofs and picnics, but Nino doesn’t pay them much mind because short of being secret superheroes, there’s not much they can do about a rooftop picnic. Hmm. Maybe he should ask Ladybug for their Miraculouses and take Alya on a rooftop picnic one night. Alya’s always loved leaping and sprinting through the city, with the wind streaming through her bushy brown ponytail, and his stomach flutters at the memory of Rena Rouge’s impish grin during their flirtatious banter, while Chat Noir turns his charms on Ladybug, and she facepalms –

“Like we were gonna leave you to deal with this by yourself,” Alya’s saying when Nino finally manages to drag himself back down to earth. “You’ve helped me babysit the little demons so many times. What’s one night of darts?”

“Trust me, dude, after this, you’ll be begging for a whole week with E-squared,” Nino says. Alya rolls her eyes at his nickname for her sisters, but her mouth twitches so he figures he’s not in too much trouble. “He reckons he’s the next Phil Taylor.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad,” Adrien pipes up.

“Do you wanna know how many times he doesn’t hit the dart board? And then says that he’s just waiting for his lucky break?”

“…Oh.”

The pub is small and brightly lit without being overwhelming, giving it a nice, cosy air that always leaves Nino in a good mood even with his father acting like he’s two seconds away from representing France in the Olympics. The bartender waves at them as they head for the little party of fellow darts club members near the darts board, weaving between tables – or, in Marinette’s case, being piggybacked by Adrien as though they’re in a minefield, so that she doesn’t trip and cause a minor earthquake with her clumsiness. Though Marinette’s scowling rather grumpily, Nino’s certain that she’s not actually mad at being carried; not when it’s Adrien who’s carrying her, without treating her like a fragile porcelain doll.

“Nino!” Beefy Henri grins and holds out a fist for Nino to bump. “Brought some fresh meat, eh?”

“Yeah.” Nino laughs and scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “This is my girl, Alya. And the two behind us are Adrien and Marinette.”

“We wanted to see the next Phil Taylor for ourselves,” Alya says, nudging Nino. Henri eyes Mehdi, who’s chatting up a storm with the other club members, and snorts.

“You’ll be waiting a while then, girlie,” he says. Alya smirks.

“Good thing I plan on sticking around for a while, then.”

Oh. Nino’s stomach flutters at the implication of Alya’s words. God, how he loves this girl.

“Darts!” Mehdi holds up a dart and turns to face the teens. “How about we give the guests of honour first go?”

“Um, I think I’ll just watch,” Marinette says with a nervous laugh. Mehdi shakes his head.

“Nonsense!”

“But I’m –”

“Come on and let the master show you!”

Marinette shoots a wide-eyed look at Nino, then gulps and approaches Mehdi, while Adrien sidles over to stand with Nino, Alya, and Henri near the board. Nino instinctively takes a step away. He loves Marinette, he really does, but there’s no way he’s going to entrust her with his safety when she’s got a sharp object in her hands.

“Remember that it’s all in the movement,” Mehdi says. “Feet apart!”

Marinette visibly resigns herself to her fate and spreads her feet. Mehdi pauses with his hands just above her shoulders until she nods, then guides her so that she’s side-on from the dartboard with her right foot forward.

“Now, make sure you’re holding the barrel.”

“The what?”

In response, Mehdi positions Marinette’s fingers around the barrel of the dart, then lifts her right arm so that her forearm is at a square angle to her face.

“Don’t hold it too tight,” Mehdi says. “Just take aim…and shoot!”

Right before Marinette releases the dart, a feeling of cold foreboding washes over Nino; the kind of foreboding that one gets when their life is about to flash before their eyes. He jumps back behind Henri and pulls Alya with him, leaving poor Adrien as the unsuspecting sacrifice who’s grinning and cheering Marinette on as she squares her shoulders and then throws with determination.

THOCK.

Alya’s hands fly up to cover her mouth, muffling her choked gasp, while Nino’s eyes bulge out of his head. Every other person in the room is deathly silent. Hell, a white-faced Marinette doesn’t even look like she’s breathing.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “Oh my god!”

“What?” says Adrien, while everyone else stares at him. Nino’s about two seconds from asking if there’s a Unicorn Miraculous, because if he had to think of a piece of magic jewellery for Adrien right now, that’d be his pick.

“You’ve –” Nino numbly gestures to his own head. “You’ve got –”

Adrien just blinks and frowns. How he can’t feel the dart that’s sticking out of his forehead, Nino has no bloody clue. Alya, meanwhile, is shaking as though she can’t decide whether to laugh or freak out. Probably the latter, considering that she hasn’t even pulled out her phone to snap pictures.

“Um,” Mehdi says. “This isn’t what I –”

“Oh my god, it’s in your forehead!” Marinette shrieks. Adrien blinks again and reaches up to fumble for the dart sticking out of the skin of his brow.

“Huh,” he says. “So it is.”

That seems to be Alya’s breaking point; she bursts into hysterical laughter and doubles over, clutching at one of the tables for support. Nino’s unsure whether he’ll ever feel anything again other than the dumbstruck numbness currently settling on him, while Marinette’s face is turning a nice shade of green à la Carapace’s suit.

“Dude,” Nino says. “How the hell are you fine?”

Adrien shrugs. “I can’t even feel it, to be honest. I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, I bet you have!” Marinette shrieks at him. She storms over and jabs a finger at his chest. “I’m sure one measly dart is nothing to you!”

Adrien grins in an uncanny imitation of Chat Noir’s smirk. “Hey, if you wanted to prick me, all you had to do was –”

Marinette yanks the dart out of Adrien’s head and then tugs him clean over her shoulder. “Sorry to cut this short,” she says to Nino, suddenly dead calm except for the way her right eye is twitching. “Adrien and I have some things to discuss. I’m sorry for ruining your night, Mr Lahiffe.”

Alya collapses to the ground as her laughter redoubles.

“Ruined?” Mehdi says, grinning despite the dark skin beneath his beard still holding an ashen hue. Now that they’re sure Adrien’s okay, the atmosphere of the group is lightening to one of mirth rather than horror. “I hardly think you ruined it. That’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in, well…I don’t remember.”

“Mehdi really is the next Phil Taylor compared to this young lady,” says another club member – Adeline – and then the room is full of explosive laughter. Adrien just looks back over Marinette’s shoulder and grins and salutes, and Nino almost chokes on his own saliva trying not to laugh, because Marinette will skin him alive if he encourages her boyfriend’s idiocy.

“Looks like Adrien and I are going to bounce,” Marinette says almost serenely. “Sorry to ditch you and Alya.”

“I don’t think Alya really cares at the moment, dude,” Nino says, eyeing his hysterical girlfriend. “Just, uh, make sure my bro’s still in one piece?”

Marinette smiles. “Oh, of course. Have a good night, Nino.” Then she’s deftly navigating through the maze of bar tables with Adrien still over her shoulder, smirking back at Nino, like she hadn’t been the one carried on Adrien’s back on the way in to avoid a disaster. It’s like she’s got an alter-ego who’s taken over right now, to be honest.

“Man, I need a drink,” Nino mumbles, wishing that he wasn’t still two years below the age limit. Between this and his moonlighting as a human turtle every now and then with his furry fox girlfriend, there’s probably not much more that life could throw at him from here on. But he’s got no doubt that it’ll try its best.

#miraculous ladybug #aotq fic #mlbforblm #nino lahiffe #alya cesaire #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #djwifi #adrinette #humor #adrien is an idiot #but we love him for it #clumsy marinette strikes again #nino is a lovestruck dumdum

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harryskalechips · 5 years ago

Text

Too bad I’m attracted to you Part 2

A/n Hello I am back with this fat update. You know reading part 1 made me feel a bit bummy, I thougt it was poorly written. I hope this one isn’t as shitty. Anyways, enjoy today’s post has smut, fluff and a lot of angst hahaha

Part 1

Word count: 7336

2 years later.

Winter

“Large Iced Caramel coffee for Adeline!” The barista yells out in the busy coffee shop. I make my way through the busy crowd to pick up my order.

“Thank you.” I smile sweetly as I head straight out the door. Today was a busy day, I had just finished my 2nd lecture and I knew I had to make my way home now to study or else I’m going to fall back down in a rabbit hole of binge-watching my favourite show on Netflix.

I gather my phone and coffee in one hand as I rummage through my purse to find my keys to the apartment I lived in. I wouldn’t say I came from a rich family but my parents were hard workers who had very comfortable positions in their careers that they were able to get me an apartment near campus. The only con about this place? It was a constant reminder of the man who changed me.

He wasn’t able to help me move in here but he sure was with me when I first visited this empty place. He inspired me and helped me picture how this place would come alive. He left small details of himself everywhere in my life that it was hard to not notice them.

“Do you need a hand?” The soft brunette smiled at me as she watched me try to open the main door. I was guessing she was a visitor since she didn’t have a set of her own keys. I nod my head silently as she lets out a small laugh. She takes her hand out as I pass her my coffee and try to slip my phone in the backside of my jeans. I swiftly find my keys and open the door for us.

“Thank you!” I give her an embarrassed expression as she hands me back my coffee. “I’m sorry, I’ve opened the door many times this way I guess today was just not my luck.” She laughs and takes her purple beanie off and shoves it in her trench coat.

“It’s alright, my financé thinks he can multitask all the time too yet he’s only lucky once in a while.” I laugh at her comment out of politeness. Just as she mentioned her engagement, I noticed the simple diamond resting on her finger.

“So do you live here?” I ask to kill the awkward silence as we walk into the elevators.

“No, I’m actually just here to visit my friend.” I nod my head silently, waiting for the digits on the wall to reach 11.

“This is my floor, I got to go. It was nice meeting you though!” I wave at her as I walk out. She probably thought I was a teenager living with my parents considering how I was dressed. I had my own beanie on, with the maple leafs logo on the front. I had my dyed blonde hair in braids as I carried my thick tote with my laptop inside. I also forgot to mention how I was wearing my doc martens and my teddy coat. Yes, I definitely still dressed like a basic white girl.

Some days I feel lonely in the apartment when it’s late at night and I’m studying or if I want to watch a movie before bed. I try to talk to my friends as much as I can. My best friend from high school Mya was still my best friend but it’s hard to keep in contact with her when she’s at another university living her best life. I talk to Rachel and Sam but they’re both in and out of their houses and I only really get to catch up with them if we were in class or if we were studying together. It’s not like I’ve always been the type to be a social butterfly, I always preferred a tiny circle of company than a big one. Things did start to change however after I decided to cut the attachment I had with the man I once knew. I tried to numb the pain and isolation by going to parties. I tried hooking up with guys and I did but I know full well now that I regret it…. I regret everything.

Sometimes I wished I never asked the man for help, to be mentored. Maybe, I wouldn’t feel so fucked up as I am today.

After my relationship with him ended, I felt undesired as if I was unlovable. My parents didn’t notice a thing but my sister, Marla did. Coming home from his place that night made me scrub my skin in the shower until it was fiery red, until my body and my mind screamed at my heart to stop. I began to wonder about my last moments as a senior in high school.

Did I feel violated? No.

Did I feel regretful? Yes… no… I don’t know

Did I feel used? Yes. Definitely yes.

I know you can’t force one to love you the way you love them but that night when he told me he didn’t expect us to be together as I entered University, I knew I had to leave. Why? As a young naive teenager, I believed he was the one man in my life who would ever make me feel this way. Yet, all he did was fail me and show me that our relationship wasn’t worth jack shit. Funny thing was I had no clue that the girl I met in the foyer was going to link me back to him.

“Hi! Excuse me, I don’t know if you remember me?” The voice of a familiar girl calls out my attention as I enter the building. I stomp the snow off my boots to look at the girl. She was standing in front of the couches with the pretty abstract paintings on the wall. I walk over to her and smile as I take my left airpod out and put it back in its case.

“Yeah, I do what’s up?” She had an anxious look on her face. Should I keep talking to this girl or was it kind of suspicious how very approaching she was to others? She seems really nice though.

“I’m sorry to bother you but is there any way you can sit with me until my fiancé arrives to come and pick me up?” I give her a confused face. “Here sit down I’ll explain.” I take my tote off my shoulder and sit beside her.

The unnamed girl today was wearing a sleek leather jacket while I sat next to her in just my tights and my parka. “My name is Valerie by the way.”

“Adeline,” I reply back shortly.

“My fiancé has been calling me for hours and I thought I left my phone at my house so I never bothered to check my bag to see it in there. I stayed here at my friend’s place and my fiancé found out. Let’s just say he’s angry because he knows my friend here isn’t a good friend at most times to me.” As she continued to ramble on, I was so confused as to why this girl was in such a messy position. “Is there any way you can pretend to be my friend? I promise I have good intentions, I just don’t want my fiancé to know I was here with Kacey. That’s the friend I’m talking about.”

“Um, sure?” Her fiancé was mad about her hanging out with her friend? Seems like a bad fish that needs to be let back into the sea, in my opinion.

A familiar range rover pops in front of the glass doors at the same time I look up. I notice the unfamiliar guy barely parking his car as he tries to catch the door of the person who unlocked it to get in. He had a beanie on and the hood of his jacket was on, I couldn’t see what he looked like.

“Valerie.” The familiar voice called out, my ears perking up to the sound, knowing how I once was so in love with him. I used to remember the way he spoke and the way he sounded. I listened to it all year long.

He seemed angry as he marched his way in determination towards us. What the fuck did I get myself into? I keep my gaze on the floor as I watch Valerie in my peripheral view stand up to go hug him.

“I’m sorry honey, My friend Adeline and I went on a walk around the area, I left my phone in her apartment.” With that, I look up to see him as I catch him already looking at me.

It’s been two years and he looks so different. He seemed more broader now and he was growing a little scruff. He looked older yet he seemed to carry that aura that I once found security in. His arm was wrapped around Valerie as his other one just laid against the side of his body. I try to mask my face as I stand up to walk towards him. I give a fake smile and glance at Valerie… his fiancée

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Adeline.” He gulps and nods at me.

“I’m Harry.” He pauses and glances at Valerie. “How did you two meet?” I stand there, dumbfounded. Little did he know I was covering for his finacée.

“Adeline and I met down at the coffee shop a block from here!” Valerie interjects and moves her weight onto Harry. “Anyways, Adeline it was nice spending time with you and getting to know more about your brother in the military. I think Harry and I should get going though.” The humour in all of this was both Harry and I knew I didn’t have a brother. Just a sister.

Yeah Valerie, good luck digging yourself out of this one.

I nod my head silently and watch as they both walk out. He opened the door for her, the same like he used to do for me. I noticed how fidgety he became as if the anger he felt for Valerie was no longer important. I’m pretty sure he’ll deal with her lying another time. As he makes his way around the car, he glances once more time at me to see if I was still there. I was. He started the car and drove off in a flash leaving me alone with my heart beating so fast

In my apartment now rushing in without a care in the world, I toss my bag onto the floor and rummage through the drawer of my nightstand looking for my inhaler. Fuck, where was it! Freshman year of university was tough for me. I was going through a heartbreak, the anxiety of exams were weighing on me, and I couldn’t get myself to trust people after a long time. This time, I saw him again. What did I expect? I mean I live near him too. I’m just surprised that I never caught him in the local grocery store or something. Now? He’s engaged. My first love is engaged. He found someone to love and it wasn’t me!

As I continue to toss things out onto my bed, I find my inhaler in the depths of the drawer, I pull it out and without another second, I press the button letting the air blow into me. I sit on my bum and rests my back on the side of the bed, taking in deep breaths as I unzip my jacket. Why am I broken?

…

My buzzer wakes me up as I try to snuggle more into my white sheets. I wasn’t expecting anyone who could it be? Still dressed in my tights and a loose tee, I get up and press on the mic of the electronic pad.

“Hello?” I can’t help but yawn.

“It’s um Harry.” I pause for a moment to think. What is he doing here? We haven’t talked in 2 years but how does he remember which apartment I was in? Why is he here tonight?

“Yeah, What can I do for you?” my voice turned more cold.

“Can I come up and uh talk to you?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I rest my forehead on my wall.

“I have to talk to you.”

“You had 2 years to do that.” One part of me knew he wasn’t going to come up here but another part of me was begging to see him, that maybe I can get closure and move on with my life. He is engaged after all, it’s not like he’s here to seduce me.

“Adeline, please.” The softness in his voice made my mind go crazy. I remember the days when he used to use that tone with me all the time. How special I felt knowing none of my classmates knew that behind the teacher who gave us endless papers to write, there was a real softie, a real hopeless romantic.

“Alright, come up.” Without another moment, I cleaned up my tiny place as fast as I could. It was easy since I was pretty neat but tonight will be his first impression of me after 2 years. After fluffing my living room pillows, I sprint into my room to toss on a UFT sweater and brush my hair as I let it down from the messy bun it’s been in all day. The expected knocks scare me as I set my brush down and make my way to the front door. Glancing at the clock, I noticed it was just about 9 pm.

“Hey.” I smile softly as I open the door wider to let him in. Don’t show him how fucked up you are. My brain screams at me as I get a whiff of his cologne. It’s been two years and you don’t care about what happened! I try to chant to myself as I observe him looking around my apartment.

“Wow, your place is just what I’d expect it to be.” He unzips his jacket and rests on the futon beside my door.

“Yeah, would you like some tea? You can just sit on the couches.”

“Alright, thank you.” I move quickly into the kitchen making his tea, trying to ignore the feelings I have after making eye contact with him once again.

As I walked back into the living room, I noticed he was sitting while holding a frame of me with Rachel and Sam during orientation day. I place the tea on the coffee table in front of him and sit beside him, making sure to keep my distance.

“So orientation camp huh?” He smiles still looking at the picture.

“Yeah.” I smile as I look at it too. That smile was real, it was one of the first moments in my life where I didn’t care about what happened at the end of high school graduation. He sets the picture and mumbles a thank you while taking the blue clay mug and taking a sip of it.

“Still remember how I like it.” He compliments and sets the mug back down. “Did someone make this for you?” I glanced at the detail he was looking closely at. It had a handwritten sentence on it. The days have always been dark in our favour but I would change that for you.

“Yeah, my friend Chase did.” It was a gift he made me after I decided to cool down our friends with benefits status. He was willing to give me more but I wasn’t ready. I’m still not.

“He seems like a poet.'' The man bites his inner cheek and clenches his jaw, not too noticeable but I caught on.

“He has a way with words.” Not like you though, my mind had thought as I went through a mini flashback of listening to his love letter for me the first time.

It was summer and just as the days grew longer so did my time with Harry. Lying to my parents I was going to sleep over at Mya’s but instead I was at my teacher’s house. He seemed to be too focused on a letter he was writing while I laid on his couch playing a stupid game on my phone. His soft voice called me to get my attention.

“Baby,” He looks up to see me sprawled in my short shorts and a tank top. “I wrote a letter and I was wondering if you can tell me if it sounds good.”

“Who’s it for?” I sit up and toss my phone onto the couch as I make my way to sit in his lap.

“For you.” He holds onto me lovingly as he starts to read the letter. I close my eyes and rest my head on top of his, trying to remember this night.

“I’m sure you do too.” The man interrupts my thought as he looks at me. “How’s the university life, you’re in the second year right?”

“Yeah, two more and I’m out of school.” I shrug my shoulders and play with the split ends of my hair. “Still teaching at Clement’s?”

“Yeah. I'm not teaching English anymore though, I’m teaching history.”

“Oh, that’s something new. At least you get to use your history minor.” He laughs and shakes his head. I just began to observe what he was wearing. He was wearing a grey long sleeve and blue jeans. Guess some things stay the same.

“Valerie lied to me today. I came here because I wanted to know the truth before confronting her.”

“Ha-” I pause, he looks uncomfortable as I continue on. “Never knew you were the type to be possessive. You shouldn’t be like that, especially to your finacée.”

“You don’t understand, whatever she told you, I have a reason to act this way.”

“Why then?”

“First tell me why she was here.” Harry pleads. We both sit up more as I let him know.

“We met in the coffee shop and we became Fri-”

“Adeline, please tell me. Have you seen her in this building multiple times?” He asks as I can feel his frustration seeping through.

“Yes, why?”

“Fuck!” He mutters as he stands up abruptly. “Fuck!”

“Ha-... What’s wrong?!” He looks at me immediately as he sits back down beside me.

“You can’t say my name.” He calls me out. “Adeline, say my name!” I give him nothing but a blank look. He rubs his face in desperation.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just petty. I don’t feel-”

“Why do women always lie to me!” Harry interrupts me. “Did I fuck you up so bad, you can’t even say my name?” He looks at me with tears in his eyes. “Please tell me.” I nod silently as he closes his eyes. “Feels like karma you know? After letting you go, I thought I would never be happy again until I met Valerie last year at a club.” He glances at me as I sit there quietly, letting him continue. “Want to know a funny thing? I caught her in this apartment two months ago sleeping with her ex-boyfriend. She had her locations on and when she called me, I was so confused so I searched for his name on the list downstairs. Stood outside for hours until she came out of his apartment with hickeys all over her.”

“I still don’t know why I asked her to marry me last month. She begged me to stay with her and I just thought that maybe we deserved each other because we both like to sabotage our own relationships.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to him as I move forward to rub my palm on his back.

“She’s still cheating on me.”

“I know.” And without another moment, he turns towards me and hugs me into his arms. All the anger in me dissolving because of his story, because of this moment. “I’m sorry.”

Spring

The club was very busy tonight and after waiting in line to get in, all I wanted to do was go back out and probably sleep in my bed.

“So you couldn’t hang out with us yesterday because you and Harry had dinner?” Rachel asked me earlier while we were in line going in. All Rachel and Sam knew were that Harry was my ex-boyfriend and we dated for 6 months.

“Yeah.” They didn’t know that Harry and I have been spending a lot of time together after he ended his relationship with Valerie. Valerie didn’t know anything about us, which was nice. I didn’t want her to get angry at me but I also knew she deserved it. My newly formed friendship with Harry, however, as beneficial as it was strictly platonic. It’s been two months and I feel like my mental health has improved. Maybe if Harry decides to leave my life again, I’ll be okay. I also learned how to say his name again without feeling my heart hurt. The times now have been good, I’ve been good

“Still can’t understand how you felt so in love with him, only after dating for 6 months,” Sam called out as we entered the club. She didn’t know what Mya knew. I ended up telling her at the end of summer when the break up happened. Mya told me I was 100 percent reasonable because I was involved in a serious relationship for the first time in my life.

“Hey, that guy has been eyeing you for a while,” Rachel smirks at me as she points discreetly at the cute blonde guy glancing at me while talking to his friends. I make eye contact with him and smile. As the night was still young, he made his way over to me. After a few more drinks, I knew my mission was to bring him over to mine

...

As I wake up in my sheets alone, my head pounds making me groan. Sitting up, I noticed I was in the unnamed boy’s polo. After brushing my teeth and using the toilet in my ensuite, I headed out to realize the ruckus was coming from my living room.

“Good morning beautiful.” The blond boy smiles as he sits at the dining table eating breakfast take out. “Your friend is here by the way.” He nods his head to the kitchen. As I walk into the room, the tiles sting the bottom of my feet. There, I see a pissed Harry making tea.

“Hey.” I tuck my hair behind my ear as I’m surprised he’s here. He looks at me and passes the mug into my hand without another word. “Thanks. How did you get here?”He looks behind him to see the boy eating while watching something on his phone. The unnamed boy seemed to be around my age.

“Thought I would get us some breakfast since I hadn’t heard from you yesterday but Jamie here buzzed me in without a word. Came here then he took your breakfast so he could eat. You can have min-”

“Thanks.” I smile and take a sip of the tea. “I think he should go though I didn’t even know his name until you mentioned it.” Together, we walk out and I notice Jamie finishing his container or mine.

“Thanks, Henry! Breakfast was delicious.” Harry widens his eyes then nods quietly.

“Jamie, is it alright you leave now? Harry and I have somewhere to be.” I ask nicely as he stands up and cleans up after himself.

“Yeah angel, just let me get my shirt back then I’ll be out doing my walk of shame.” He smirks as he watches me. I glance at Harry who seems to be angry again.

After Jamie leaves and Harry and I sit together on my couch using two forks sharing his bacon and eggs, he speaks up. “So that’s what you were doing yesterday huh?”

“Yeah.” My cheeks flush as I purposely only eat the yolk of the eggs, knowing Harry hates that part.

“I know it’s not my business but do you have one night stands a lot?”

“Um. last year I only had three then Chase and I had benefits until this year, after that Jace… I mean Jamie has been the last one.”

“Oh.” He says silently. “That’s cool.”

“Don’t you have one night stands a lot?” I tease as I take a sip of his coffee since my mug is empty.

“You know I'm not really keen on those. Before you, I wasn’t really into it. After you, I fell into some deep hole so yeah I did. Valerie’s my last.” I nod and glance at the quiet TV. “You know the year when you left, I was a really mean teacher. Mrs. Raisell had to speak to me and ask me to pass all my students because ⅔ were failing.”

“Maybe they deserved to fail?” I shrug my shoulders and laugh.

“No, I was purposely marking hard.”

“Are you still hurt about Valerie?”

“If I’m being honest with you, I was waiting for something to break us up. I couldn’t imagine marrying her.”

“Why not?”

“Always pictured it would be you.”

Summer

Today was going to be my first day entering Harry’s house again. I was nervous but the thing that kept my spirits up was that I was going in with Harry and the broken part of me was fixed once again. To me, it didn’t matter that Harry broke me because he fixed it, at least I have his presence here again and I don’t feel lonely anymore.

“We’re here.” Harry smiles as he steps out to open my door. I glanced at his house that seemed to bring comfort to my heart as I saw Harry nod his head for me to follow him. After locking his car, we enter his house. It smelled the same and looked just a bit different. I noticed how there were fixed holes in the wall, some of his books were missing from the shelf, and he had new windows and a new TV.

“Did Valerie change some things around here while you guys were together?” I ask as I take off my shoes and sit with him in the living room. I used to remember staying in here and cuddling him. Sometimes, I would ask him to edit my essays. He would tell me all these tips but I would drown him out, pretending to listen yet my attention was on the TV show he was watching.

“Actually, No. Valerie and I were only together for 4 months plus we were never really here. We spent most of our time at hers.” He sits down and turns the TV on.

“What’s up with the holes and missing books in here.” He looks at the holes I was staring at. He lowers the volume and speaks to me.

“Mind if I get something upstairs.” And with that he sprinted upstairs, leaving me on the couch.

As he made his way back, he handed me a mini leather journal. It was a bit torn up but it seemed to be in good condition.

“Um,” he pauses as he sits down. He turns towards me and keeps his eye contact on the closed journal. “You can read that when you get home but I can tell you what happened here.” I nod my head and take the journal and hug it into my arms. “When you left, I uh... felt like that was a bad moment for me. I just- you know why we broke up. I just didn't expect you to love me.” he looks at me while I stare at him breathe a bit heavier. This was the closure I was asking for.

“Addy, I was so excited that night and when you told me you loved me, the insecurity I had for the past 9 months just buried me. I don’t know how to explain it. I just- I was scared you would take that back later when you realized how much potential you have and how you can have a better relationship with a boy that was going through the same stuff you were. I’m sorry.” He looks at me and bends down to wipe a tear down my face.

“I always thought about your parents’ reaction if they found out about us, I thought about your friends, I thought about my parents. It was so messy in my brain. Then when you left, I realized that I loved you too but you were gone in an instant. I got so angry at myself for letting fear take over me. So um I decided to punch the walls and throw my TV through a window. Decided to take each romance book out of my shelves and pour alcohol on them.” He laughs to himself. “I even remember crying so hard, trying to tear out the pages of my favourite book, you know a copy I gave you for Christmas. Anyways, I was really mad at myself that I didn’t try to get you back. I mean I took your senior year away from you. You should experience Uni and I guess that’s what made me decide to let you go.” I cry harder and look at the almost bookless shelves

“You fucking ruined me, Harry. I tried to have fun but all I was fucking looking for was something to numb the pain you left me!”

“I know baby and I’m sorry okay! I’m sorry for not being strong enough! I’m sorry for fucking doing that! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry!” He yelled as we both cried on his couch.

“I fucking loved you and you threw that back in my face. I rubbed my skin so hard that night when I left this fucking place. Do you understand that? I had- my skin peeling for days after trying to get you out of my skin, trying- to … rinse your.. Scent off m-”

“Baby, are you okay?” Harry’s eyes alarmed as he watched me hyperventilate. “Fuck, Addy, you don’t have asthma!” I grasp onto his shoulders as he quickly lets go of me and runs to his kitchen, as he walks back he has his own inhaler in his hands. “Here, it’s alright, baby. I’m here now, it’s okay.” As I take in a breath, I fall into his arms and hug him.

“I love you, Adeline. I love you. Two years or not, I don’t give a fuck. I love you.”

…

The night was quiet as we cuddled together on his couch. We were both speechless about what happened earlier and now we have been watching infomercials for the past hour. Harry was petting my hair as I laid on his chest playing with the journal he gave me. “Want me to read that for you. It’s just little lines I wrote about you.” I nod my head and he takes the journal into his hands. He soon began to read each page out loud. I closed my eyes on his chest, trying to remember this night. The same way I did when I first listened to him read out his love letter.

I know you were way too bright for me

I’m hopeless, broken, so you wait for me in the sky

All the lights couldn’t put out the dark

Runnin’ through my heart

Don’t you call him “baby”

We’re not talking lately

Don’t you call him what you used to call me

Forget what I said

It’s not what I meant

And I can’t take it back, I can’t unpack the baggage you left

Sunflower, my eyes want you more than a melody

Fall

“Ahh, Harry let me down!” I scream as I feel his arms engulf me as he lifts me off my feet. “If I don’t unpack my things then I’m going back to mine!” I tease as he laughs putting me back down but not without stuffing his mouth in between my neck so he can leave kisses there.

“You can’t, you sold it already. You’re living here with me forever!” He murmurs against my jaw as he turns me around and leans me against his counter. “You’re here with me now.” He smiles as I kiss him on the nose.

After rekindling our relationship, I decided to sell the apartment and live with him since I’ve spent more time at his place than mine. When I told my parents about Harry, they were happy and they agreed with me moving out. Little did they know that I was dating Harry back when I was still his student but I think that’s a story for another time.

“Oh no, what did I sign up for! I’m living here with you… forever!” I pretend to sigh but he pinches my hips and lifts me onto his dark blue counter.

“Promise baby it won’t be too bad. We’ll redecorate the place just how you want it. We can spend so much more time together and… we can have sex anywhere you want.”

“Hm, I like that.” I kiss him on the lips as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I know you do baby.” He laughs. He kisses me harder then pulls away. “Are you done unpacking your mugs or should I organize the bookshelves myself?” He smirks as he watches me pout. I tug on my pigtail and hop down the counter.

“I want to help you, of course!”

That night we spent hours reorganizing his book collection. I even added some of my own since I’m an English major too. The shelves that were once empty were now filled with many genres of books but I made sure that the majority of them were romance.

“Baby, are you almost finished?” I knock on Harry’s office as I see him marking his last stack of history papers.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” He looks up at me and sighs as he glances back at the hill of papers that don’t seem to shrink.

“I was hoping you and I could spend some time tonight since I just finished my homework.” I walk inside the room and close the door. I make my way onto the couch that I’ve grown used to and sit down. Harry was wearing his glasses with his grey sweatpants and a plain white tee. I was wearing his polo and just my panties. Tonight though, no funny business. I’m here to keep him company yet let him focus on marking. “You know I took AP history, maybe I can help you with the marking like old times.” I lick my lips as he glances at me from the paper he was reading, he took a bit too long to respond since he was too focused.

“Yeah, alright, go grab a paper. The research question should revolve around world war 1 and Canada’s involvement.” With that, I took the paper from his stack and picked out a pen from his mug. I got him that for Teacher Appreciation Day when I was still his student.

A couple of hours after, I didn’t realize I fell asleep on his couch as I watched him finish the last few. All I remember is him carrying me to our bedroom.

“Oh, I’m sorry I fell asleep?” I yawn as I watch him beside me getting settled into bed. The fairy lights around our room set the vibe since I decided to hang them up because Christmas was just around the corner again. “You should’ve woke me up instead of carrying me to bed.” He looks at me and laughs, bending down to kiss my forehead.

“It’s okay baby, plus you could be awake and I’d still carry you to bed. Thank you for helping me mark tonight. It reminds me of the old times.” He hovers over me and intertwines both of our hands on either side of my face.

“It’s alright.” I smile as I watch his eyes look at me. “ You know I was thinking, if we don’t count the two-year break, we’ve been together for about 15 months.” He licks his lips and kisses me on the lips.

“Feels weird huh? Feel like I’ve known you forever.”

“Yeah, I think so too.” He kisses down my neck even though we both know we’re both very tired. “I love you,” I whisper.

“I love you so much more,” Harry whispers back as we finish the night with sloppy, slow sex.

Winter

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Harry, Happy birthday to you.” I sing softly as I carry a stack of pancakes with a lit candle on top. Harry was just waking up, surprised at the view of me in just his shirt. I carefully crawl on the bed so he can blow the candle out. He reaches out and closes his eyes for a moment before blowing the flame out.

“Thank you.” Harry murmurs as he comes closer to kiss me. “I love you, Addy.”

“I love you too.” I kiss him back. “Here’s your fork, let me just get your coffee downstairs!” I was just about to get out of bed but he holds onto my hand.

“Stay, I can get some coffee later.”Since it was a Saturday, we were very lucky to stay in bed and watch TV all morning. Harry was feeding me a couple of bites while I would let my fingers massage his scalp for hours.

“You know I don’t know how I got so whipped for you, Ms. Chastain.” He murmurs against my jaw after he sets the plate down on his nightstand. “Saw you standing there, the first day in class and I knew I just had to get to know you.” I laugh and sink myself more into the sheets so he can hover over me.

“You know I didn’t know we would get back together. Thought I would never see you again.” He rubs himself on me as I let my fingers graze over his newly shaved chin.

“Are you happy to be with me?” He asks seriously as he kisses my jaw.

“Mhm.” I moan.

“You love me yeah?”

“I do.” He looks up and smiles at me. He kisses my forehead then lifts up my (his) shirt off my stomach. “Harry.”

“I love you, Addy. So fucking much I do.” The wetness of his tongue teases my stomach as he makes his way back to the top of my chest so he can suck on my nipples. “So fucking beautiful you are.”

“Harry.” I pant as I watch him take a nipple into his warm mouth. His other hand playing with my panties and teasing my core.

“Can’t believe I let other guys touch you. You should’ve been mine only. To touch, to love on, to moan for.” He inserts his fingers in me as I scratch his back. “Moan for me baby, scream my name.”

“Daddy, fuck, oh my god. Faster please!” he gropes my boobs and slaps my wet pussy.

“Too bad I’m attracted to you yeah? Don’t give a fuck what you do, who you sleep with. I just want to love you all day long.” He whispers in my ear as I touch his hard dick and try to jerk him off too.

“Love you, you’re so big, daddy!” Without another moment, I come undone as he moans too at the sight of me. He takes my hands off his dick and teases my entrance a bit before putting it in.

“Remember that time I gagged you with your panties and blindfolded you with my tie.” I nodded. “Fucked you so hard and bent you over my desk that day. So difficult after you left me to mark homework on that desk. I couldn’t stop hearing your moans in my mind baby. You fucked me up so hard.” And with that, he thrust into me so fast as he reached forward to choke my neck.

“Daddy!” I open my eyes to see him, biting his lip watching himself fuck me hard.

“Open your eyes love, want you to see me tear you apart.” He helps me sit up and rests my back on the headboard as I watch him fuck me over and over again. “Fuck, don’t look at me like that, I might just have to turn you over right now and spank you.” He takes his thumb and puts it into my mouth so I can suck on it.

“Then turn me over daddy, spank me while I feel you in my stomach.” He bends down to kiss my lips and just as I was about to kiss him back he turns me over on all fours. Slapping my ass twice before putting himself back in me.

“So wet, baby.” He pulls my hair out of my face as he thrusts faster. I clench my fingers around our pillows, trying to also hold onto the headboard. “You fucking like that when I fuck you hard? Such a slut for my cock baby. So wet, you’re fucking leaking for me.” He teases his finger around my other whole. “Look at this one, I might have to try and give this one attention next time what do you think?” As I moan, attempting to reply he cuts me off, “Maybe now is a good time.” He spits onto the hole, teasing his finger around it. “Are you okay with this Addy, do you like how it feels?”

“Mhm.” Harry pulls onto my hair a bit harsher.

“Answer me correctly, say it properly. Let daddy know.”

“Yes!” He slips his thumb into my now wet hole as he fucks me faster.

“Fuck, I wanna put a baby in you so bad baby.”

“Put one in then.” I moan and reach down to rub my clit.

“Get off birth control and I won’t doubt for a second to put one in.” He grits his teeth and flips us over so I’m riding him. “Be a good girl, show me how good you are.” He whispers and slaps my butt. I watch his face turn into pleasure as I roll my hips onto his, trying my best to fuck him well. My moans were seemingly uncontrollable as I feel him deep in my stomach.

“Come for me daddy please fill me up!” I whine and without another second, we come together. Harry reaches quickly for my neck, choking me as he thrusts his hips upwards. His seed fills me up as I un slide myself off him and reach down to taste us. He watches me with a smirk as I lay back down beside him. I feel him move his arm underneath me, as he searches for something. As I lay beside him looking at the ceiling, I watch his hand open a black velvet box in front of me.

“Harry,” I whisper, turning to look at him.

“I know it’s my birthday but the only wish I had in mind was if you said yes to the question I’m about to ask you.” He sits up a bit as I mimic his position.

“Adeline Chastain, I knew you ever since you were 18 and I’ve loved you ever since then. You would make me the happiest man in the world if you would marry me?” I watch him as we both cry so happily together.

“Yes, Harry, I will!” He takes the pear-shaped diamond engagement ring and slides it onto my finger. He kisses me softly as his fingers touch the necklace he bought me for graduation.

“I’m very much in love with you and I promise to take care of your heart, to protect you, and make you the happiest woman in my life.” and with that we kissed again, leading us to the never-ending hours of activities in the bed.

When I was 18, I was naive. I thought Harry would be the only man in my life who would ever make me feel this way.

And I was right.

#too bad I'm attracted to you #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagines #harrystyles oneshots #harrystyles fluff #cute #teacher!harrystyles #love #harrystylesimagine #onedirection

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queerchoicesblog · 4 years ago

Note

Lawrence was a pleasure to see again, and thanks God he was there to talk some sense into Zetta ! "Sometimes our secrets are what makes our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached” What power in that sentence. What I also loved was that Zetta was honest with Richard. She has always been a straight shooter and it's interesting to see a dynamic where she would have much to lose from it but chooses to be (somewhat) honest anyway. With him. With herself. /6 (I think ?)

Part 2 of my response, sweet Nonny!

Let me start saying that:

1. You do not have to apologise for your English because it's brilliant and I'm Italian so no pressure!

2. I absolutely love your talkative mood and because of the kind words you reserved to my writing, I swear! I almost wish we would be sharing a table at a cafe (let's make it a patisserie: I'm a sweet tooth and you have decadent desserts up there!) and chatting about Zetta, Adele and a bit of everything 😊

Giving a voice to wlw characters is my main mission so thank YOU! I'm glad I could make fellow members of our community happy with my stories. I write them for free because it sounds like the right thing in these dark times when many face new personal budget struggles. Maybe one day, if I build enough confidence, I will try to get some works published but today's not that day.

Back to Titanic, I'm particularly glad you appreciate your compatriot Sabine (who will get a scene in the next chapter) and Lawrence. They were minor characters but gosh, how I love them. I tried to add more depths and give them a bit more space in the series since they only appeared from time to time in the original book.

I find the friendship between Lawrence and Zetta quite interesting and a bit endearing. At the Turkish Baths, Zetta described it in these terms:

Of course, it refers to the fact that they're both gay and they can understand each other better than anyone else. But these lines and the affability they showed when he joined Zetta's table for dinner in first class made me picture the two of them as that kind of friends who aren't close as they don't keep in touch or hang out together all the time but whenever they find each other, it's as though they never parted. As many of us feel today about their fellow gay/bi/trans and so on friends, they rely on each other for a support they cannot find elsewhere so they can chat of nothing and everything, laugh but also have deep conversations out of nowhere without needing explanation or excuses. They simply understand the need to talk of certain parts of their lives: finest historical mlm/wlw solidarity. I cannot bring myself to imagine, for instance Lawrence talking of Felix with other gentlemen but Zetta would surely ask him how he's doing. Vice versa I can see the only one Zetta would truly speak of Adele being him.

"Sometimes our secrets are what make our lives worth living. No matter with what high cost they come attached"

I must admit I am quite proud of that sentence 😅

I just thought the story needed something that could explain why Zetta eventually decides to "fight for Adele" in her own way, writing her that note begging to come to the party after months of silence, but also Adele's change of heart about secrecy. We know that Adele has been stagnating for some time after the sinking and the abandonment, dealing with trauma, loss and starting anew in a new country...or at least that's how I picture her? Hileni says she's hardly leaving the shop, she looks afraid to live in full survivor sense of guilt and suffering from the sudden disappearance of her love. Through those months she changes and I reckon this change includes the shift from this (in my playthrough)

To this:

Back on the Titanic Adele seemed almost unapologetic about showing her affection as if "pushing boundaries". True, she's an outcast unlike Zetta and the adeline pumped high in the aftermath of the collision but she was the lesbian hero everyone dreamed in the moment: proclaiming her love for Zetta and kissing her passionately in the crowd. Quite a shock for super closet lesbian like Zetta! Then, months later she no longer says "I don't care who's watching" but is the one proposing a secret romance, accepting to live her love behind closed doors and putting up a mask in public if that's what it takes to be with Zetta. I think she came to the same conclusion Lawrence stated. And I think it's interesting how the change in Zetta is somehow symmetrical: from freezing on the l word to realising she doesn't want to part from Adele - and kissing her on the deck uncaring of the crowd - to make it happen after her own stagnation.

As for the Richard discourse, I believe that what Mateo said was for once true:

Adele and her conscience, her courage inspired her to be a better version of herself while her compassion softened a bit Adele. At the beginning of the story, Zetta is bitter, sarcastic, utterly gorgeous but not so pleasant to have around, for her own decision: her guard is up and she's unhappy. Through the story, she shows a new side of her, compassionate, protective, smart and gentle that was there but Adele rekindled. In the next chapter I will give a hint of other ways in which I believe Adele inspired her to action.

But a change I picture being a tail end of this is being (somewhat) honest with Richard. Adele put her freedom at risk for her and I want to believe that gesture impressed Zetta more than she admitted to herself maybe. She praised her conscience and courage...now it was her time to be brave. Zetta not saying a thing after what happened made little sense to me, if she suffers so much as we get to understand. Complete honesty is not a safe route or at least one she is not willing to go for but she pushes herself as far as she feels comortable stating the truth: is he convinced to marry her even knowing that she cannot love him like he does? Seems like an honest and merciful warning: Zetta cares for her career but she is not a heart of stone and I headcanon she likes Richard even if not romantically.

Richard doesn't get the true meaning behind her confession but as you said, could she? Zetta is closeted and very careful not to draw the slightest suspicion on her. He couldn't possibly imagine the truth but I cannot bring myself to see it as completely dumb either. We cannot read a person's heart with Suisse precision but we can perceive coldness or when our feelings are not fully reciprocated. He probably knew already that Zetta didn't love him "like he loves her" and it explained it to himself as stemming from her independence, her being a lady who can't be entirely tamed. Which is not a lie, just one part of the truth.

Sorry, I went down a tangent here and ended up flooding you with words!

Hope to hear from you soon! Stay safe and healthy ❤

#long post #lovely nonny #nonny asks #titanic storyscape #zetta x adele series #lawrence yarrow #richard king #sabine

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one-leaf-grimoire · 4 years ago

Text

“triad”

Chapter 8: the septad

In this chapter you can find discussion of fate, the Tree of Qliphoth, and... a moth goddess?!

AO3 link

Dear Lyra,

I’m sorry for being so out of touch lately. To be fair, it wasn’t entirely my fault, since this recent incident basically halted all mail movement around the kingdom. However, I got your most recent letter today, and I’m so glad that you and the others are safe! And it seems the town suffered minimal damage, and you were able to take down the one attacker all together.

Anyway… I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now. I would have invited you all to my coronation, but it was all over so fast, there was hardly time to plan a trip. Plus, the castle and capitol is still in shambles, so it wouldn’t have been fun. Don’t worry- I’m alright, with many friends and advisors by my side. I’ll have time to be sad once the situation has stabilized, whenever that will be.

Please write back soon. I miss you.

Love…

My pen pauses above the page before I sign my name.

Should I tell her… about the baby?

After a moment, I move again. My name appears, then is quickly concealed as I fold the letter up.

“Are you almost done?” Marx pokes his head into my office, just in time to see me press my finger into a disc of wax and start to heat it up. “Oh, you are. You wanted to head out soon, right?”

“Right!” I watch the wax melt, then shake the excess off of my finger. “As soon as you send this off, I want to leave.” I grab one of the seals sitting on the desk, the official seal of the Wizard King, and press it into the wax. “Hopefully this won’t take long… they either have the information I need or they don’t.”

I stand up, holding the sealed letter out for him to take. Marx quickly receives it, waves his hand, and sends out a signal. Within seconds, a small portal appears at his side; belonging to one of our many postal mages downstairs. He throws the letter inside, and that’s that. “There we are. Now, where’s Adeline?”

“She’s delivering orders to the squads,” I tell him, motioning for him to follow me out of the office and down the hall. “She’ll be back soon, we’ll probably run into her on our way out.”

“Oh, good!” Marx smiles a little, his eyes narrowing. “You know, I’m sorry for being so hesitant about her… she ended up being very efficient and hard-working. Although, I can’t blame her-” He glances over at the back of my head. “She’s devoted to you entirely… as far as she’s concerned, you saved her life.”

“Well, that’s what a good leader should do, right? Find talent, in unexpected places, and bring it into the light.”

That’s what Julius would have done, anyway.

Just as I predicted, we run into Adeline a few minutes later. She skids to a stop in front of us, out of breath from her previous chore, but a big smile appears on her face as she spots us. “Your majesty! And- Marx!” She quickly bows her head out of respect. “I’ve completed the task you gave me!”

“Please, no more your majesty! I like you enough that you can call me by my real name.” Adeline looks up in time to see me shoot her a little wink. “Thanks for doing that, now come on!”

Adeline quickly joins my side, and before long the three of us reach an open window. Marx immediately winces. “Oh no… you can’t possibly-”

“It’s the quickest way! Come on!” I grab his hand and hold the other out to Adeline. “Hold on tight, alright? It’ll just last a couple seconds.”

Her eyes widen, but she nods quickly and takes my arm. Without another moment passing, I turn back towards the window.

“Flame Creation Magic: Sun God’s Leap.”

Tiny wings burst to life around my elbows and ankles, fluttering delicately but with more power than ever before. This is my only flight spell, and when paired with my time acceleration, there’s no way to travel any faster.

“Here we go!”

I push off the ground, and the three of us shoot off out of the window. Marx and Adeline both hold on tighter, Adeline letting out a little scream of surprise. Land and air courses past our bodies, faster and faster, the feeling so familiar. I can remember it… just like it was yesterday. The first time Julius showed me his power… I was going to be late coming back to the base, and he just swept me up and- in a moment, we were there.

Those simple days… what I wouldn’t give to have them back. When my biggest worry was whether or not Julius liked me back.

Because… of course he did. It was so obvious, even back then… we were meant to be together.

A few seconds later, we crash down to earth, a little less elegantly than usual since I have two passengers. The moment I let go, Marx stumbles away, extremely dizzy, but Adeline keeps clutching at me, stunned and dazed by the experience. “W-W-Wow…” she stutters, blinking owilishly. “That was… really… cool…”

“Ah, thanks-” I cut myself off when I realize just how… close she is. Adeline is a good few inches taller than me, and having her pressed against me like this. “Ah- er- Adeline-” I feel my ears start to heat up. “Do you think you could-”

“OH! Sorry!” She lets go and steps back, seemingly back to normal. “Thanks for the ride… now…” She turns to look around. We’re standing outside a small town, a very humble town in the middle of nowhere. This place is close to the border with the Heart Kingdom, the land fertile and rich with natural mana. This is where the remnants of the Simulcian race live… where my family lives. “This is the place?”

“It sure is.” I suck in a breath, a little worried about what was to come. “Now.. don’t be frightened by them. They’re going to be nosy, and they don’t really understand personal space,” I explain as we start to walk. “They’re all brothers and sisters, making them my aunts and uncles.”

“Right… and, what exactly do we need from them again?” Adeline asks.

“They could have information about the Devils- don’t you remember that big lecture I gave you about it yesterday?”

Adeline laughs nervously. “Oh, right… ah, to be honest, there was so much information, and I’m sure I forgot some of it-”

“Nevermind, I’ll tell you later.” She’s honest though, at least…. I sigh heavily. About most things. I can’t help but remember our first meeting, that look of surprise on her face, and those words-

“Your eyes…”

Well, if she was off-put by these eyes of mine, then she’s got a big shock coming…

“OH! LOOK! IT’s OUR NIECE!”

And… here they are.

A small crowd of people run up to us as we reach the town. All of them look a bit like me, with slightly varying shades of hair. However, all of them seem to be about my age, and all of them have the same, empty black irises. When they were united into Septads, those eyes glowed an eerie blueish white. “Hey guys… long time no see?”

A few pairs of hands immediately grab my arms, just like I anticipated, and start to drag me away, all chatting all at once.

“A visit from our Wizard King!”

“The first Foreign Wizard King!”

“This is a great victory for the Simulcians!”

“The first non-human Wizard King!”

“We’ll have to build a statue of you next!”

Luckily, they ignore Adeline and Marx, who jog behind us. Adeline looks a bit worried about me, but Marx is used to this by now. “Hmm? Statue?” I repeat, still trying to get used to this newfound hospitality.

“Oh, right! Come look at our most recent project!” one of my uncles says excitedly. “We had to put it on hold after the attack, but it still looks great so far!”

Huh? I wonder what it might be-

We turn the corner to enter the “town square,” and the hands finally release me. “Don’t run off like that!” Marx scolds, hurrying up to my side with Adeline. What? It’s not like I had a choice! I almost respond, but Adeline catches my attention when her eyes widen. “W-what is that supposed to be?”

Hmm? I turn to follow her gaze, finally spotting the unfinished statue in the middle of the square. It’s made of wood, part of it painted dark blue, but it looks like it’s been on hold for a long time. I recognized the figure immediately. “Oh… this is your deity, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” an aunt answers in unison with a few others. “Aren’t they beautiful! Simulcia, in all her glory…”

The populace of the Clover Kingdom tends to believe in God. Churches and convents are located in almost every town, and most people worship in their own homes. My mother made me and my cousins go to church every week, but I never really absorbed any of it. Maybe I was trying to emulate my father, who never joined us for worship. Little did I know, even he must have had some underlying allegiance to… her.

If the concept of God is ridiculous to me, then it’s even harder for me to believe in Simulcia. According to my family, she was a giant woman who took the form of a moth. Parts of that are evident on the statue; her inhuman face, her tall, feathered antennae. She had wings, too, but they haven’t gotten around to carving those yet. Her two giant eyes are painted black. The finishing touches are her marks, seven of them, carved into her palms, her knees, her stomach, her heart, and finally, her forehead. Apparently she broke into seven parts upon her death, and is the “mother” of all Simulcians. I’m not exactly sure how accurate all this is…

“A… a pagan god?!” I look over to see Adeline staring at the statue again, looking very distrubed. “You didn’t tell me they were pagans!”

“Pagan?” I repeat, for some reason finding this kind of funny. “Adeline, it’s fine… they’ve been worshipping that goddess longer than the Kingdom worshipped their God.”

“I know… but-” Adeline finally looks over at me. “Their?”

“Ah, You know, I don’t believe in God or that thing- I mean, Simulcia. So what does that make me?”

Adeline opens her mouth to answer, but she can’t. She’s probably lived a very sheltered life... I chuckle before turning to my family once again. “Well, if it isn’t too much trouble, may we stay for lunch.”

“Of course!!! We’ve got plenty of potatoes!”

“Oh… great!”

The Simulcian Colony works day in and day out, using all their mana to produce nutritious crops… mainly potatoes. The crops get sent out to poor areas, so the operation is going full throttle now more than any other time. The potatoes are good, I can’t deny it, but they taste earthy, almost tangy. But they’re moist and rich in mana, so I don’t complain when it’s the only thing I’m served at lunch. The whole town is extremely communal, so everyone is gathered here to eat. There’s about 40 of them living here, all chatting together in small circles as I sit down with Adeline and Marx to eat.

“With respect, we didn’t come here to socialize-” Marx reminds me, glancing around, clearly a little uncomfortable.

“I know, I know, I’m going to ask right now,” I whisper, turning to smile at some of my aunts as they suddenly come and sit down near us. “Hi! So, about this visit-”

“Is this about the Curse in the Heart Kingdom?” one of them cuts me off, already chewing a mouthful of food.

I blink, a little stunned by the quick response. “Kind of… wait, how do you even know about that?”

The aunts share a little look, holding back a chuckle. “You didn’t feel it? My, your human genes are really strong, aren’t they?”

Huh? I repress a frown, a familiar sense of unease permeating my heart. Marx gulps quietly, and Adeline stares at me like I’ve grown another head. They had to bring it up now, didn’t they? Ah- I clear my throat. “So, Simulcians can sense Devil Curses?”

They all nod in unison. “Yes! We just know it’s there, not anything else though.”

“Oh, well…”

I quickly explain the situation to them: the Attack in six months, the Devil Megicula’s link to the Heart Kingdom, and Zagred’s reaction to me. “Hmm… a link between SImulcians and Devils…?” One of my aunts taps her chin as she thinks, her eyes not betraying her inner thoughts. “Well… we wouldn’t know anything about that off the tops of our heads. That would be ancient knowledge… because the last time we would have contacted Devils is during the last opening of the Tree.”

The phrase catches my attention. “Tree? What Tree?”

“The Tree! The Tree of Qliphoth!” Even the name sends an unpleasant shiver down my back. “It was millenia ago… but the channel between this world and the underworld was opened, and Devils reigned destruction upon the Earth!” My other aunts nod along in unison. “However, I don’t think our history went back that far… we didn’t move to our island until after… huh…” Her brow furrows in concentration as I stare in shock, not sure what to make of this new information. The Tree of Qliphoth… that sounds bad. How come I’ve never heard of it before? If Devils really reigned destruction upon the world, that should be big news… unless it was so long ago that it was erased from written memory… and yet…

“So…” I catch the attention of my aunts once I speak again. “You knew that… you’re able to subconsciously delve into Simulcian history, right?” I smile a little, feeling hopeful. “If you remembered something about the Tree, then Simulcians must have been around during its opening, right?”

To my surprise, they shake their heads. “Not necessarily… I thought you would understand by now.” My aunt motions out the door, towards the time square. “Our power comes from our shared consciousness… her consciousness. She broke herself apart, but she still exists in us. In you.” She reaches out and grabs my shoulder. “Your Dyad… a Dyad concentrates the entire consciousness into two people. She was a goddess of fate, and her power concentrated fate into you and Julius…” Her voice trails off as she feels me tense up at the mention of that name. “I’m sorry-”

“No, no, it’s fine!” I shake my head and give her a smile. “Tell me more… do you think I could tap into that history?”

“Maybe…” Her eyes light up. “Maybe, if you get into a Septad, you can uncover the information you seek!”

Uh oh- The last time I entered a Septad, it didn’t end well… You probably remember. Well, if it’s the easiest way to get information…

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

I feel someone tug on my sleeve, and I look down to see Adeline looking up at me with concern. “Um… I don’t really understand what any of you are talking about, but… uh… is this… safe?”

… oh, Adeline… I don’t have any idea.

“Yeah, sure!” I give her a thumbs up. “I’ve done it before, don’t worry!”

Well, that’s not a lie.

Adeline’s worry melts into a smile. A very… cute smile.

She was worried about me…

“Good! I’m sure you’ll be fine!”

My aunts take my hand and drag me away. The rest of them have already stood up, clearing an area in the middle of the room. Six women already stand there, as if they knew what we meant to do. I recognize them immediately- they’re the six Simulcians that I was forced to synchronize with, to form a Septad. Just seeing them, and being close to them… I feel a spark of mana in my forehead, as if it yearned to be together with someone again… anyone.

“...hi…” I laugh awkwardly as I shed my cloak and pull out my Grimoire. “Can I do it? So I can break it when we’re done.” I don’t expect to get trapped again, but I’m not taking any chances.

The six of them nod all at once, giving me identical smiles. These six were together for years, and now they operate like they’re all one unit. “Ok… let’s go then.”

My Grimoire floats up, and I utter the spell.

“Dyad magic… Septad Creation!”

All at once, our marks start to glow, and I feel the mana start to cycle around. Faster and faster, so fast that it seems to inhabit us all at once. It’s not nearly as powerful as a Dyad, but I still have to plant my feet into the ground and will my hands to keep from shaking. The other's eyes start to glow a whitish-blue, the same light overtaking my own vision. The room melts away, and then-

Darkness.

This place… is really the mind of an ancient goddess? I don’t get it… so she really did exist?

...are you here?

There’s not even a whisper of a soul left. Just an empty mind, pinned here against the tides of time and space, entrusted to a doomed race of people.

But… are there memories here?

The earth quakes, and I feel the bond start to slip.

What?! Already! I’m not that weak, I should be able to last longer than this!

FInally, the tremor stops.

Good… now… someone…

Show me a Devil.

I’m not sure what I expected to see, but a scene finally fades in. I look around, spotting the setting sun over the mountains to the west. There’s buildings close by, familiar buildings.

This is… Raque?

But, there aren’t any devils here! This is modern day… I need something farther back in time! So-

I’m cut off as I hear a familiar voice.

“Look at it… the sea… it’s so beautiful.”

I turn towards the source, and spot two people sitting in the sand, staring out at the dark waves. The blackness of the water, so deep and mysterious, so cold… just like their identical black eyes.

This is… this…

It’s the Dyad. My grandparents. They sit here, hand in hand, staring at the sea.

What is this… are they supposed to be the Devils? Or is this something completely unrelated-

“Oh! Look!”

My grandmother’s gaze is caught by something to her right. She points, and both my and grandpa look.

“I see…”

A moth flits towards them, riding the sea breeze with delicate grace.

“That’s it then… it’s her.”

A moth…

Simulcia?

The moth continues its slow approach.

“So… that’s it, then.”

My grandpa’s words echo in my ears. The scene melts away once again.

“Our fate.”

The void begins to shake once again. I try and reach out to the others as they tremble away from me, farther and farther, stretching our link so far it might snap.

Wait! What’s wrong? Why is this hurting you?

I can’t reach them. They disappear, and a blinding light shoots through my body.

I don’t understand… what was that supposed to mean?

I blink, and I’m back in the room with everyone. I almost fall over once my consciousness is restored, but Marx and Adeline catch me. “Oh god! Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah!” I nod vaguely in response to Adeline’s question. “I don’t get it though, I…”

My voice trails off as I spot the other six women.

All of them have fallen to the ground, crumpled into little heaps. And each one of them holds their face in their hands, tears and sobs flowing freely.

I watch in silence, my mind reeling from this sudden turn of events.

Wait… so… the reason the bond was broken was because they were being hurt… not me? But why?

One of them lets out a shriek, and inhuman, emotionless scream.

Why… w-why…

I know what they saw within me. They saw the void: a deep, insurmountable gap, one that I’m slowly but surely sinking into. A darkness deeper than any on this earth, a cold more piercing than a thousand knives.

But… I don’t see it.

As long as I keep my sight fixed on the light above… as long as I keep moving forward… I will drag myself out.

So… for now… I won’t look down.

It takes a while for things to settle down, so we just sit awkwardly until the others stop crying and return to normal. “I’m sorry… we ruined that bond,” one of them says, glancing over at me. “I don’t even remember what was so sad… but all at once, I felt like I couldn’t breathe at all.”

“Oh… I-I’m sorry… I don’t know what that was either.” I smile awkwardly and glance at Marx, who still is staring at the ground with a pained expression on his face. Adeline still looks confused. “Well… I guess we shouldn’t try again?”

“I mean, we probably can.” Another one sits up to look at me. “But… we could all feel it; the storm of emotions inside you. You need to learn to quell that storm, to travel to its eye… only within that calm will we be able to fully sink into our consciousnesses.”

I feel a pang of anger. “Quell my storm? I don’t know about that, I think I’ve been handling everything pretty well, considering the circumstances, right Marx?”

There’s no answer. “Marx?” I look over to see him looking like he’s a deer in the headlights. FInally, he shrugs. Great… “ANYWAY- how am I supposed to do that any more than I already am?”

“Meditation!” one of my uncles pipes up. “If you do a little every day, you should be able to clear your subconscious before entering the Septad.”

“Ooh! I meditate all the time!” I look over as Adeline of all people speaks up. “I can teach you, I know I can!”

For some reason, that idea makes me a bit nervous. “Oh…. okay. Well-” I cross my arms and scowl. “I don’t know if it’ll be any help. It kept showing me a scene from just a few years ago, I need something from back when the Tree of Qliphoth was being opened!”

A few of the Simulcians exchange glances before looking at me again. “That might be impossible… you see, no matter how hard we try, it’s still her mind. She only shows us memories she deems important to us.”

“Important to us?! WHy- AH!” My bottled up frustration suddenly bursts out, for just a moment. I ball up my fists under my robe as I keep talking. “I don’t know whether to believe any of this shit anyway… I mean, it all sounds good, but really? A moth goddess is telling me that my grandparents’s little love scene is more important than the DEVILS?!”

My uncle shrugs. “I don’t make the rules… but the sooner you go back, with a clear mind, the sooner it will all be answered.”

I feel a hand on my arm, and once again it’s Adeline, giving me a calming smile. “I got this, okay? When I’m done with you, you’ll be able to do this with no problem!”

…

“You can do this! I know you can. You’re the strongest person I know, after all!”

For some reason, her words do the impossible. I feel a strange… peace within me. For a brief moment, the void ceases to scare me.

“...ok. I’ll do it.”

I let out a deep sigh before looking back at my family. “Thank you… we’ll be back soon, is that okay?”

“Of course!” They all answer at once, a little enthusiastic. “We can’t wait to see you again!��

“Good!” I manage to smile. “Marx, Adeline… lets go.”

We leave soon after, but those brief moments within the Septad still stick with me. One sentence in particular circles my mind, the soothing, accepting tones of my grandmother’s voice springing up more and more questions in its wake.

“That’s it then… our fate.”

Next time! Chapter 9: the long night. Adeline begins her crash course in meditation, but derails it when she starts talking about the stars. Maybe... maybe there IS something special about her. :)

#triad #fic #black clover

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angelic-holland · 5 years ago

Text

Hang the Stars // TMO imagine

“Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?” - James Patterson

“I’ll take care of you.”

“It’s rotten work.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

- Anne Carson, Euripides

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: angst, mentions of murder, mentions of mob activity, fluffy fluff

Summary: Three Months and 14 days. That’s how long Harrison has loved you. That’s how long he’s known he can never have you like he wants you. Three months and 14 days is a dreadfully long time to love someone who will never love him back.

A/N: Hi! This is a little short of the reader’s time with Ian and Harrison and the Irish mob. This can sort of work as a stand alone fic but works better after reading the first 13 chapters of Take Me Out! This is from Harrison’s perspective aka the reader is ‘her’. As always, feedback through reblogs and asks are always appreciated and encouraged if you’re part of my taglist! Let me know what you think about this little piece!

The worst part of falling in love is the pain when you hit the ground.

That isn’t how Harrison feels sitting in the meeting room of Ian’s brownstone when the doorbell rang. He feels calm with the slightest bit of excitement because he’s finally allowed to sit in on meetings.

Nobody rings the doorbell here. All of Ian’s men knocked, a special knock to let Ian know that it was them.

So Harrison sat in his seat right by the head of the table where Ian usually sits while Ian draws a gun, stalking toward the front door.

He can’t see anything, neither can any of the other men in the room, but they can hear her.

At first, Dewey jokes that it’s a girl that Ian knocked up, here to collect child support.

Russell shuts him up with a glare, “probably just a girl scout or something.”

“It’s nine at night,” Harrison says, straining to hear what Ian was saying to whoever was standing at the door.

There’s a shrill cry that makes all of the men at the table widen their eyes.

“Don’t touch me!”

Then Ian’s voice is soothing and attempting to comfort the girl, whoever she may be.

There’s a rumbling and Harrison swears it’s thunder but he can’t help the next words that slip out of his mouth, “everything okay?”

A sob ripples through the near silent house.

Harrison stands up, about to leave the room when Russell stops him.

“This isn’t your business.”

“It might be-,”

“Just wait, patience, boy,” Dewey sneers.

Harrison sits back down, mumbling under his breath about leaving him the fuck alone.

The men sit in silence as they hear Ian walking around the house, making a few phone calls.

“Check in on the place, that’s right, rented to Adeline Park, I want an update by tomorrow morning.”

Adeline Park. Maybe that’s the girl who showed up at the door. It has to be.

Several minutes later, Ian steps back inside the room, trying to push the franticness out of his voice.

“Meeting dismissed, we’ll pick up tomorrow morning. Harrison, go out and get food, real food, fruits and vegetables, shit like that.”

Harrison isn’t going to question it at this point, “right away, boss.”

He stands up and buttons his suit jacket, following the rest of the men out of the house before Ian grabs his arm.

“Don’t let them get you caught up in their rumor mill, I’m taking care of an old friend,” Ian says, voice low so the last of the men exiting the house don’t hear him.

“Course, boss, I’ll be right back.”

Harrison is nosy, it’s not something he’s exactly proud of, but with his job, it comes with the territory.

That’s why he searches for an Adeline Park on Facebook. A dozen or so results show up. He didn’t catch a glimpse of her face, so he scrolls through each result, each profile, wondering if this was the girl who showed up on his bosses doorstep, completely throwing him for a loop.

He buys a lot of food, probably too much, but he had no idea what Ian wanted other than fruits and vegetables, he swears he almost buys out the entire store. After unloading all of the food into the cabinets and fridge, he makes his way upstairs.

He hears Ian and her talking, Adeline, her voice is weak but anxious as Ian tries to soothe her. He almost doesn’t want to interrupt, to break into their precious moment. But Harrison is nosy, so he does anyway.

“It is though, you take bad people and you get rid of them. You kill people who deserve to be killed.”

Harrison’s eyes widen at Ian’s words. So she isn’t just an old flame. Or perhaps she is, Ian’s circle consists mainly of mobsters and murderers. So it’s possible she is a killer and an old flame. What better person for a murderer than another murderer?

Harrison took off his suit jacket, leaning against the door as he watches her, her hair in a messy ponytail, eyes puffy, bruises encircling her throat. He wonders who could hurt someone as beautiful as her.

“Boss.”

“Harrison, she’s going to be staying in the guest room with you for a little bit. Is that okay?”

“Course, boss, groceries are downstairs, all set away.”

“Great, sweetheart, I’ve got to make a few phone calls but if you need anything, Harrison can help you, okay?”

“He’s uh, he’s good?”

Her voice is terrified, it’s a trembling whisper and she doesn’t want Harrison to hear but he does.

“He’s the best,” Ian says before he stands up, giving Harrison a look before leaving him alone with the girl who clearly didn’t trust anyone.

What the fuck is Harrison supposed to do? To say? She reminds him of a scared cat, drawing in on herself as he steps forward into the room completely.

“Hi, uh, name’s Harrison,” He says, wanting to smack himself, he drops his coat on his bed and walks toward her, sticking his hand out.

Right, because the way to look non threatening to her is to stick your hand out when the last man who did that was the one who gave her all of those bruises.

She is hesitant as he holds his hand out, and right before he’s about to drop it, she meekly shakes his hand.

“Y/N.”

So not Adeline.

She drops his hand almost as quickly as she shakes it.

“Well, y/n, you’re free to borrow my clothes anytime, definitely look better on you than me.”

Damn it Harrison.

The last thing this girl wants, or needs, is someone flirting with her.

“Sorry, that was uh, stupid of me.”

She giggles and Harrison feels light headed.

“It’s okay, uh, you been with Ian long?”

“No, a few months. We met while he was back in Ireland.”

“So are you his uh, next in command?” She asks as Harrison begins to get ready for bed.

“Sort of, if I show I can do well under pressure. How much do you know about Ian?”

He’s curious about which part of Ian’s past she’s from.

“Just that he’s the Irish mob leader here, and uh, you’re not Irish.”

Her tone is almost accusatory, like Harrison isn’t supposed to be here. But she digresses, somewhat caging herself off to his response as she sets the plate down and gently touches her neck, wincing as her fingers touch the bruises.

“You shouldn’t, you know, touch that, I can get you some ice if you want, I’ll just go change and then grab an ice pack,” Harrison says, not waiting for a response before gathering up his pajamas and leaving her alone.

Ian is talking downstairs after Harrison changed and he becomes quiet as Harrison enters the kitchen.

“Just grabbing her an ice pack,” Harrison says, grabbing one from the freezer and wrapping it in a dish towel.

“She’s got some problems, Harrison, you won’t be able to fix her.”

“I wasn’t planning on trying to-,”

“It’s okay son, I’m sure you only want to help. But I think she’ll just need time.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” Harrison nods, “but Ian, do you think she’d, I mean, do you know who hurt her?”

Ian shakes his head, “that’s what I’m trying to find out, I haven't seen her in five years. She drove here from fucking Idaho. I guess she didn’t really have anyone else to go to.”

Harrison nods, swallowing the lump in his throat as he makes his way back upstairs. He wonders who could have hurt her so badly she drove across the country to someone she hasn’t seen in over half a decade.

“Hey, I uh, I got you an ice pack,” he says, watching her roll over in the blue sheets, her eyes red, cheeks swollen from crying.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, holding her hand out for the ice.

When he hands it to her, he swears electricity crackles under his fingertips when they touch her hand. She withdraws almost immediately.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, turning back toward the wall, not letting Harrison look at her properly as she rests the ice pack against her neck.

“Like what?” Harrison asks, slightly confused as he sits down in his own bed, wanting to give her as much distance as she needs.

“Like I’m a lost puppy someone just kicked to the curb. Like you’re sorry for me, like you’re some guy who sees a girl that’s broken and wants to piece me back together. I’m Humpty fucking Dumpty, you’re not putting me back together again.”

Harrison figures the best thing to do is let her vent.

“I didn’t think you’re Humpty Dumpty.”

“Right, next you’re going to tell me you would never hurt me and that you’d never do anything to put me at risk.”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Harrison says, laying down.

“The last person who said that, did this,” she turns and takes away the ice pack, her throat definitely swollen past it’s normal size.

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me about him, whoever did that, but I would never do that, never touch you like that-,”

“Just- don’t make promises you don’t intend to keep.”

The realization that Y/N doesn’t trust him, doesn’t trust anyone, because the man who did that most definitely wasn’t the first person who has hurt her like that, sits on Harrison’s chest like a stack of bricks.

Taking care of her, being her keeper or her babysitter or whatever wasn’t his goal or intention after the first night, but since then, that’s all Harrison has ever done. And he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind one bit.

For the first time in his life, Y/N gave Harrison what he felt was a purpose, a reason for being more than his typical self.

And isn’t that the cruelest sort of love? The love you feel for someone so broken that industrial strength glue can’t piece them together, the love that no matter how hard and how fiercely you love, they’ll never be quite able to reciprocate it?

***

There are bad nights, nights where she wakes up screaming for someone, crying out for the person who hurt her. He buries the name in his subconscious, never gaining the courage to ask her about this Tom character who invaded her peaceful sleep.

During the first two weeks she hardly got any sleep, and that keeps Harrison up as well. There are moments when she’ll stare at him and he’d stare right back, her eyes the only thing visible in the dark room. A beacon of hope for someone lost at sea.

And then she climbs into his bed. They’re both restless on this September night, now morning if Harrison is being technical. 2am.

“I uh, I was hoping I might sleep better if I, well, if I sleep next to you,” her voice is soft and her eyes wide as Harrison nods, patting the spot next to him. The bed is small, no doubt that they’d have to lay practically on top of each other to not fall off. So with a gentle nod from Harrison, she curls up next to him, her head on his chest and her legs practically on top of his.

That night Harrison has slept better than he has in years. In fact, Y/N and Harrison looked so peaceful that when Ian went to check on them the next morning, he didn’t wake them up. Finally both of them got a full nights sleep without screaming, without fear of what tomorrow may bring. Finally it seems both of them are at peace.

***

When she kisses Harrison for the first time, about a month after she arrived, he swore he was dreaming. They’ve kissed plenty of times in Harrison’s dreams, but each time he feels like he’s betraying the real Y/N.

They’re lying in bed, Harrison has an arm around her shoulder, only after she gave him explicit permission to do so. She’s cradling his face like it’s a glass vase, her eyes searching for the blooming flowers beneath his fragile exterior. Maybe poppies or brunneras. Nothing can quite match his shade of blue.

“Can I?” She asks, her eyes focused on the short sharp breaths forming on Harrison’s lips.

He nods, waiting for the dream to end, to wake up and be reminded this isn’t real.

Her lips brush against his and she waits for him to reciprocate before moving further. She’s warm against him, almost burning up or maybe that’s his heart? Harrison can’t tell, in fact he feels light headed and his stomach twists into a knot as he kisses her back. Her lips are so soft, and she tastes like his mint toothpaste, the one she uses now, since they’ve gotten in the habit of brushing their teeth together.

He pulls away, only because he’s sure he’s stopped breathing, ��pinch me.”

It makes her laugh, it’s melodic and Harrison closes his eyes, resting his forehead against hers, soaking up each note.

“You’re not dreaming,” she murmurs, her lips finding his again.

“Pinch me anyway,” he mumbles against her lips, he can’t find it in him to pull away.

She gently pinches his cheek and he waits to wake up. But he doesn’t. Tonight they don’t sleep much, random thoughts and words are shared between soft kisses, never moving further than a gentle hand on cheek, soft skin against skin.

Neither of them mind as she traces his cheekbone, the moonlight cutting across his skin and illuminating every imperfection.

“Thank you, for everything.”

She doesn’t need to say it. She doesn’t need to thank him.

“Don’t thank me,” he says as she snuggles into his chest, her hair tickling his chin.

“I don’t know why you do it, why you take care of me. I’m sure you’d much rather be out with Ian and the rest of them-,”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Harrison cuts her off and he watches as she turns in his arms, her eyes wandering to the window, staring up at the moon, the stars. He wonders if she feels the same way.

“Don’t say that just because-,”

“I’ve never lied to you,” Harrison murmurs, his arm rests against her shoulder and for a half a second he thinks she flinches, but she relaxes almost immediately.

“It’s rotten work,” she huffs, laughing low in her throat.

“What is?”

“Sometimes I feel like I’m poison, draining the life out of everyone around me. I don’t want you to be as lifeless as me. It’s rotten work being around a person like me.”

“Well, unless you’re planning on killing me…” he’s joking, for the most part.

“No! I wouldn’t, I couldn’t,” she mumbles, the sky is forgotten as she turns back around, resting her hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“You know, it’s not rotten work, caring for you. I don’t think I could ever get tired of spending time with you.”

“Liar.”

“I’m anything but. I just wish you’d believe me.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

He wants to ask, he wants to ask why she doesn’t think she’s worth every single second he spends with her. He wants to cradle her face in his hands as gently as she cradled his. He wants to whisper, he wants to shout that she’s worth it, she’s so god damn worth it that he can’t see himself doing anything else but share the same twin size bed with her for the rest of his life.

But by now, he can tell when she’s feeling drained, emotionally, mentally, physically.

She needs to sleep, and she isn’t going to listen to anything else that he plans on saying. So he tucks those words back into his mind and lets her sleep.

***

Their life isn’t perfect, it’s far from it. Especially on days Y/N is so depressed she can’t get out of bed. There are days when she’s downright mean and it forces Harrison to take a step back and realize that she’s been through some stuff, she’s seen some shit, and she has every right to get upset and angry at the world. Besides, the world is a cruel place, and it sometimes feels that she is their sole target.

He does things to try to brighten her up, whether it be getting her favorite cannoli from Mike’s Pastry or a smoothie from a local farmer’s market. Today he brought her both, because before he left, she was yelling about how useless it was to be here and how she wishes she was back in Idaho.

“Y/N?” Harrison calls out, climbing the stairs two at a time with the food and a gift.

He hears the shower going and calls out to her, resting his head on the bathroom door.

She doesn’t answer and immediately his mind flies to worse case scenarios.

To her taking her anger and depression and turning it inward on herself, so much so that she can’t come back from it.

“Y/N!” Harrison shouts, voice unsteady as he opens the door. He doesn’t want to invade her privacy, but he will just to make sure that the worst case scenario he built up isn’t coming true.

Normally there’s a shadow of the person showering on the shower curtain. But as Harrison sets everything aside he finds Y/N’s shadow curled up in the corner, the water almost drowning out her cries.

“Y/N, darling, are you okay?” Harrison asks, kneeling down at the edge of the tub, hesitant to push back the curtain.

“I can’t breath,” she gasps and no matter how much of a gentleman Harrison is, he can’t sit outside the tub and not check on her now.

“Y/N, I’m going to open the curtain, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m a monster,” she shouts as Harrison pulls back the curtain, revealing her crying form.

“What?” Harrison asks, watching her continue to shake.

“I- I’m here, I ran from my problem and he, he’s dead because of me, I’m a monster,” she sobs, the water starting to prune her skin.

Harrison has absolutely no idea what Y/N is talking about, but he knows one thing for sure, that something happened to her or because of her that has changed her forever.

“Come on Y/N, we can talk about this if you want, but you need to get out of the shower, need to get dried off,” Harrison reaches over to grab her arm but she pulls away violently, quivering at the thought of his touch.

He stands up, turning the water off, it’s scalding and he wonders how she hasn’t practically burnt her skin off yet.

He waits a moment for her to come out, grabbing a towel from the closet and standing at the edge of the tub.

“Y/N…”

“Just leave me alone! You should hate me! I don’t-,” she starts as Harrison leans down, trying to pick her up.

“Go away!” She screams, batting at his hands as he tries to, at this point drag her out of the bath if he has to.

“No, Y/N, you have to understand, please, please understand I’m not going anywhere,” Harrison pleads as he struggles with what to do now.

Fuck it, if she won’t get out of the tub, he’ll join her. So that’s what Harrison does, clothes and all, sitting behind her and drawing her body against his as she sobs. She doesn’t resist him however, and that’s the most important part of this exchange. He just wants her to feel safe, like he’s the one person she can feel safe with.

“It’s okay,” he brushes back her wet hair as she cries until her breathing levels out and there aren’t anymore tears left to cry.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“This kid, Harry, he uh, he was in a coma. And Jake, Jake killed him. This innocent kid who never did anything wrong in his life. Jake killed him to get back at me, to get back at Tom.”

“Why is that your fault then, darling?” Harrison asks as he begins wringing out her hair, not a care in the world that his clothes are now completely soaked as well.

“Because, if I didn’t get involved with T-T-Tom, then Jake would have no reason to try to put him in his place like that! If I didn’t put my stupid fucking heart out like that, this wouldn’t have happened!”

Harrison doesn’t have the courage to ask if she meant the two of them.

“Is that why you came looking for Ian?”

“Tom he- he blamed me for Harry’s death. And he- I never thought he was capable of hurting me until that moment. And I couldn’t- I couldn’t stay while he was so angry like that. He would’ve killed me. But maybe I deserve that.”

“No, hey, look at me,” Harrison pleads, his heart literally aching in his chest as she stares back at him with trembling lips and tear tracks down her cheeks.

“What? How can you know who I am and not think I deserve to die?”

“Did you kill this kid with your own two hands?”

She shakes her head no, so Harrison continues.

“So you kill bad people. You didn’t kill this kid, so you need to get into that mindset. You need to see yourself how I see you.”

“I feel like I’m a rain cloud or a fucking black hole, just sucking the life out of everything.”

“You’re anything but,” Harrison tries to reassure her.

“Don’t lie to me just to make me feel better.”

“Okay, you might be a rain cloud. But more than that, you’re an entire day’s worth of weather. And what happens after a rain?”

She sniffles but doesn’t respond, so Harrison pulls out the small velvet black box he wasn’t expecting to give her until later tonight. His jeans are soaking wet and it makes it harder to grab, but when he does, his hand is shaking harder than Y/N is.

“You know, when I was a kid and I was having a bad day, my mum used to sing this song for me,” Harrison opens the box and holds the necklace up to show her.

“What is this?” She asks, her fingers curling around the sun pendant.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

***

It’s been almost four months since Y/N showed up on Ian’s doorstep. Harrison wants to celebrate the small strides she’s making by cooking her breakfast. Tomorrow they’re supposed to go stake out a hit that Harrison will be running, and Ian is letting Y/N go with him.

“What’re you making?” Y/N asks, sleepily rubbing her eyes as she sits at the kitchen counter.

“Pancakes,” Harrison smiles, flipping one over before turning back to Y/N.

She has tears in her eyes that she quickly tries to hide. She’s not fast enough. Harrison often catches her before she can hide her emotions from him. She isn’t sure if she appreciates this ability of his, but he’s always able to calm her down when she gets worked up.

“Okay, if you don’t like pancakes, darling, we don’t have to have them,” Harrison quickly turns off the stove and walks around the counter, holding his arms out for her.

He always waits for her to make the first move. To pull him into a hug, to sleep by his side, to kiss him. He would never want her to feel pressured into anything, make her feel like she’s required to reciprocate what he wants to give to her.

She buries herself inside his arms, her body shaking with sobs.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,” Harrison sings lightly, feeling her slowly bring herself back to reality and out of whatever dark space pancakes seemed to send her to. “Sing with me, darling,” he murmurs as he rubs her back, “you make me happy when skies are grey.”

Her voice is thick with tears but she continues along with him, “you’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.”

“So no pancakes?” Harrison asks hesitantly as she sits back down.

“I, uh, I prefer waffles,” she sniffles, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“Waffles it is.”

After work, Harrison buys a waffle maker and all the ingredients he needs to cook up the best waffle recipe he can find. The look in Y/N’s eyes when he sets up the waffle maker is enough to make Harrison melt into a puddle on the floor like a schoolboy whose crush notices him.

“Please tell me you like your waffles sweet,” Harrison pulls out a can of whipped cream from the fridge, raising an eyebrow at Y/N.

She nods eagerly, “what’s a waffle without maple syrup and whipped cream?”

Harrison chuckles as she takes the plate and can from him, loading the waffle with whipped cream.

“God, I love you.”

Maybe he didn’t mean for those words to slip out, but they did. They’ve been stuck in his throat for three months now, ever since the first night she crawled into his bed and asked him to hold her.

The whipped cream can cuts off, filling the kitchen with a silence that absolutely shatters Harrison’s heart.

She doesn’t need to say anything. Her face, shocked with slight confusion, mouth wide open and eyebrows pinched together, tells him everything he needs to know.

“Why?” She can’t even look at him as she begins to cut into her food.

“What do you mean why? Why do I love you?”

She nods as she begins to eat, still not meeting his eyes.

“You showed up when I was beginning to doubt joining Ian, don’t tell him that though. And you were closed off. Mean and cranky, and I mean, you still are-,”

“Hey!” She scowls, flicking a bit of whipped cream at him.

“The face you make when you’re mad is really cute. But even when you put on the grumpiest face, I know that you care a lot, about Ian, about the people in your life.”

“About you.”

“Hmm?” Harrison has to pinch himself, wondering if he is truly hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I care about you,” she says, shoveling more of the waffle into her mouth before she stands up, the chair scraping against the floor.

“You care about me?” Harrison asks, watching her nervously pick at the fingernail of her thumb, nodding as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I know you want me to say that I- that I-, fuck I’m sorry, but I can’t. And you know if I said it right now, it would only be because of what you said, because of how you feel. And you deserve someone who can say that back because it’s true, because she has no reservations and shitty feelings and emotional shortcomings.”

“But I’ll stay, through your shitty feelings and your emotional shortcomings.”

“Don’t know why,” she mumbles.

“You’re worth it, Y/N, don’t you see how incredibly fucking worth it you are?”

“I’m worth it?” She asks, as if she is discovering this for the first time as well.

“You’re so fucking worth it, there aren’t enough words in the dictionary or our time on this earth to tell you how worth it you are.”

***

“Darling, what’s wrong?” Harrison asks as he brushes hair out of her eyes, kissing her forehead before sitting up to get a good look at her, watching the way her hands start to shake.

“Kiss me like you hate me.”

He’s confused, because he figured this might be the night she decides to go further with him, to share a part of herself he wasn’t sure he’s ever seen. But why would she ask him to kiss her like that?

Aggressively?

“What do you-,”

“I don’t want you to make love to me, I- I can’t make love to you.”

“Darling I’m not going to kiss you like I hate you, I don’t hate you, I couldn’t hate you.”

“You should hate me,” she sobs, curling in on herself as Harrison lays down next to her, pulling her into his chest.

“No, darling, it’s okay, shhh, I couldn’t hate you, darling, you could be the wicked witch of the west and I’d still look at you like you hung the stars in the sky. Maybe that’s why you’re cranky, you’ve spent so long bringing light to everyone else, you never saved any for yourself. What’s wrong?”

“Nobody’s ever, well except- and I can’t, I just can’t,” she continues to cry, her tears soaking his shirt as he runs a hand through her hair.

“It’s okay, we don’t have to do anything, I would be perfectly content with you in my arms, just laying here,” Harrison assures her, keeping her as calm as he could even when he felt like his world simply didn’t make sense.

“I’ve killed people, you know.”

“I know,” Harrison says, calm and even.

“Lots of people.”

“Bad people.”

She shifts around in his arms, facing him. Her breath is shaky as he wipes the tears from her face and kisses her forehead.

“You gave people light by taking bad people out of their lives.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m a bad person,” she sniffles as Harrison brings his lips along her face, kissing every single inch of skin.

“There’s such a blurred line between good and bad, right and wrong. How many people have you saved by killing murderers? By killing rapists?”

She shrugs and it shocks Harrison how she can’t see what he sees.

“Too many to count. And tomorrow you’re getting back in the game, staking out the new hit with me. It’ll be fun but if you’re uncomfortable, we stop, got it?”

“Got it,” she nods, letting his warmth calm her down and lull her to sleep.

***

“Y/N, when was the uh, last time you had your period?” Harrison asked, wondering how long it typically took for someone to start showing.

“What? Uh two months and uhh 20 days ago,” her eyes widened and she stopped about five feet short of the brownstone, turning to Harrison, “I’m not, it’s uh, it’s the stress.”

***

It’s been a week and a half since Y/N left Harrison on the curbside dreaming of children and a life together. It’s been a week and a half and all Harrison has been able to do is dream of her, growing old with her, a kid, as many kids as she wants. He dreams of a life where he can play catch or push them on the swing set. It’s a stupid dream, especially now that she’s gone. She promised to check in, but it’s been absolute and complete radio silence since she left.

Most days Ian doesn’t ask much of him, understanding how torn up Harrison is after she left. Today was one of those days where Harrison sits in bed drinking straight from a bottle of expensive rum and stares at his phone, at her contact photo. It’s the only photo of her that he has. He took it one day while they were drinking hot chocolate at this small bakery in the North End. She has a whipped cream mustache and is flushing as Harrison holds his phone up, snapping a cheeky picture. She protested at first but he insisted that it could be used for his lockscreen. She immediately stole a picture of him as well, head tilted back in a laugh. He wonders if it’s still her lockscreen.

As if by some twist of fate, maybe his luck is finally turning around, his phone rings. And it’s Y/N.

He’s so excited he spills the remaining bottle of rum as he tries to set it down on the counter. But that could wait. Y/N couldn’t.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Harrison says, choking back tears as her ragged voice greets him on the other end.

“Haz?” There’s a short pause and several sharp breaths before she continues.

“I need you, Harrison. I made a huge mistake.”

***

Taglist (removed anyone who hasn’t interacted w the fic sorry I don’t want to type out a bunch of urls and have nobody interact; if you want to be added back message me!): @gioandreolli @honeymoonparker @itsjusttor @averyfosterthoughts @worldoftom @angelhaz11 @rebekkah4766

#tom holland #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield angst #take me out #wow i didnt see this coming when i started writing tmo yet here we are #tom holland imagine #tom holland series

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vivwrite · 4 years ago

Text

With the Ghost of You(When the Sun Goes Down We All Get Lonely)

Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

or: Ashton meets Luke in a library, and the story tells itself. (AO3 link👇)

ooookay so my first fic for lashton and 5sos . Thanks for reading it. And tbh I'm extremely nervous because English's not my first language. So sorry for the mistakes lol.

One thing: I read Marquez's work in my first language, and I can't find the English version of it, so I translated the title and first sentence to English. There might be a mistake so sorry again lol

Ashton has always loved the library.

It isn't the school library, which is always so grand, demure, solemn, much like a robot- no, too cold and inhuman.

What he prefers, rather, is a smaller one run by a group of retired professors. It seems determined to hide itself in the northeastern corner of the campus, made up of three small but never crowded reading rooms. No matter when he walks through the doors be can find lamps shading yellowish circles on wooden tables, rows and rows of bookshelves up to the ceiling, and seats, beside small windows where the sunlight outside leaks in just perfectly on sunny afternoons.

To him it's always a getaway, a secret hiding place from the stressed and sometimes too fast school life, the only friend he can turn to when he isn't that enthusiastic about life, a comfort when facing another rock bottom. He's already studying a too rational subject; he'd love spending some time being just sensitive in here.

He'd spend hours and hours wandering among the bookshelves, picking one when he feels like it, skimming a few pages before deciding to read on or not. By doing this he feels just like a boy on the beach, amazed by an emerald or sapphire brought on shore by waves from time to time- what matters isn't just the book he gets. It's more of the communicating, the chore he gets to strike.

Unsatisfactory experiment result, loads of homework, a long and tiresome discussion with the professor about his research orientation- which he thinks is too early for him to consider, but she insists that as he has already got postgraduate recommendation he needs to consider it fully right now- and Ashton finds himself wandering in the library again, walking aimlessly, not for finding books, just to feel the connection.

It is a strange feeling, really, to be connected with books. Most of them on the shelves just seem to be books as they are, silent, quiet, lifeless. But, well, maybe it’s just his imagination- but some particular ones seem to be staring back- especially that one.

His hand automatically moves to pick that book out of the column.

It is quite delicate, a hard back small enough to be held on one hand, the title shimmering under the dim lights.

Ann’s Diary.

He remembers reading it in his teen years.

“Sorry, but that's mine.”

Ashton springs from the bookshelf. The book slips straight from his hand, hitting the wooden floor with a thud, as a boy rounds up from the other side.

He's tall- even taller than Ashton. And quite young, a freshman or sophomore, maybe. He is staring at Ashton from behind those strands of blonde, messy curls falling off to his face, piercing pale blue eyes met with his hazel ones, and that made his breath hitch for a second- although those eyes are definitely showing dismay.

"I... I don't really understand." He tries his best to cover all the confusion and fear- dealing with strangers always makes him uncomfortable (although he can manage it by acting cheerful and shit), especially with a pissed one.

But the boy seems determined to stay silent and on edge. He just flips the first page open, gesturing to a mark on it.

It's a two-word initial. Must have written quite a long time ago, as the lines are a bit blurry and the ink has faded into light gray. But he still recognizes the word, written in Italic, reading "L.H.".

Wait. The librarians never said that there is a place for personal collections.

Before he can ask about it the boy swirls around and walks off, leaving alone a dumbfounded Ashton.

He goes to ask the librarians, then the curator(because the librarians know nothing), about books with a L. H. written on it.

"This is a long story, darling, but it's late." Mrs. Hemmings' voice is collected and calm as always, but Ashton can tell that there is something as her eyes are a bit dull, "Maybe the other day."

His favorite spot in the library is a small table tucked behind seven rows of bookshelves of English literature(yes, he counts how many bookshelves are there), just besides a small window. Others rarely find it- unless they're crazy for novels by Adeline Virginia Woolf or they're just too bored to do anything else.

That's why he chooses here- There's no disruption, no noise, only the random shuffle for a person searching for books and pages being turned. Being alone.It suits him.

The sound of a chair pulling broke the silence,ripping him from the novel plot- someone has slipped into the chair opposite of him.

Well, fuck.

Ashton lifts his head from the pages, slight agitation rising from his chest, which shifted to utter surprise as his eyes meet a strangely familiar shade of blue.

Before he could say anything the boy blurts out , "Please... I want to explain."

For a moment Ashton just sits there, staring. Thoughts cloud his mind, tangling messily, laying conflicted- He was so senseless but now he seems so sincere! He won't trust his own voice right now, afraid that something stupid pops up all of a sudden. So he decides to just nod, a silent permit for the stranger to go on.

The boy clears his throat, looking a little nervous, "About the incident yesterday... I'm sorry. Got into something stupid and was shouted at all day long- but, I mean, fuck, even that isn't the reason I became such a jerk to you. I'm not trying to defend myself, but please don't be angry... Oh my fucking god, I don't know what I'm saying." He groans, pushing a hand through his curls, messing it up a bit.

Well, isn't that adorable.

Ashton hears himself chuckling, "I understand, no worries. Everyone has a bad day, don't we?"

He watches as the boy visibly relaxes with the reassuring words, a smile slipping on on his face, "Yeah, I guess. Thanks... Um, what's your name, by the way?"

Oh, right.

"Ashton."

"Thanks, Ashton." the boy's smile widens, "I'm Luke."

So the initial does belong to him. The L. H..

It's not until silence falls that Ashton realizes he may have stared at those sea- blue, sincere eyes for a bit too long. Hastily he ducked his head into his novel, flushed, trying to pick up the stream of Woolf's consciousness again.

"Virginia Woolf?" Luke's voice cuts in, and to Ashton's surprise- filled with pure interest.

Everyone else just thinks he's crazy and nerdy fancying Woolf's works.

"You like her?" He can't help but feel hope lighting up.

"One of my favorite!" Luke's literally buzzing with excitement, like a puppy finally getting some fresh air after a long lockdown in the house, "Never found another person to discuss, though. Everyone just say it's too hard to understand and shits."

And with that their conversation swiftly shifts into a heated discussion about stream of consciousness novels, to Woolf, then Proust, Faulkner, all way up the history, even to Freud- and Ashton finds, surprisingly, that they can strike a chord in every part of it- and the way Luke talks relentlessly, smiling so broad, eyes shining and hands waving- tells him he holds the same feelings, same thought, same passion.

His throat's sore- he hasn't talked that much in like, forever- but that doesn't stop him from being smug like an idiot when he leaves the library.

He's been alone for a long time, But it seems that he has finally found someone.

He starts to spend more time in the library- first just to do some more leisure reading and writing stuff there, then he starts bring his textbooks and laptop there to finish his homework, then even starts to stay there as long as he neither has classes nor needs to go back to the dorm. Yes, he admits it's kind of strange one's never tired of a library- especially that he has already ploughed through every part since he first stepped into it- but he knows why- a cute boy with ocean blue eyes and a smile is always there now.

It has become a routine. Luke accompanies him every day, sometimes already halfway through a novel when Ashton arrives, while other times Luke shows up merrily when he’s buried in the middle of projects and homework, bringing in a sense of cool breeze and fresh air before peeking over and ushering him to take a break(well sometimes the work has to be done, but Luke’s so sweet that he can’t refuse). Their time spent together is usually quiet, Ashton either typing away on his laptop or on a book, while Luke is immersed in his own novel, just piping up from time to time to discuss the plot or asking about the author. Topic wanders- books, school life, bands, music (seriously, how many same hobbies do they hold?).

They have went through so many fields- Stream of Consciousness to Science Fiction, Agatha Christie to Akudagawa, Shakespeare's Sonnet to Samuel Ullman's prose, but the list still seems far from ending. To Ashton's surprise Luke have read most of the writers not only by representative works but also less- famous chapters- many of which he only knows but has never read. He had thought he's an English Literature student, but Luke amazed him again by saying he studies Math actually- the same amazement occurred again when Luke discovered the chemistry paper Ashton's working on.

He can’t recall the last time he felt this content -Well, he can’t even remember when he has become so silent and depressed, on edge and under pressure.

But seems Luke has already become the solution.

Ashton sighs, recoils back in his chair, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes- He never learns the lesson of not leaving your homework to the deadline, fuck it.

Besides him Luke rises his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips, "You finally done?"

He just groaned, eyes shut."I wonder how the fuck you can even finish your homework. You never seem to be doing anything related to math."

"Maybe that's because all can be done quickly if I want."

Smug idiot.

"Wait till you're a post graduate and you'll know what's torture."

"Will quit right after four years, then."

Ashton scowls, cracks open one eye and spares a hand to flip Luke off, to which he ducks away (he always does) and giggles, "You're of no fucking help."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"Don't know. Tell me a story. Or just read something. As long as I'm not thinking my head off about the synthesis route of some stupid fucking molecule I'll be fine."

He heard a light chuckle, "Aye- Aye, Captain, here we go."

The sound of pages turning, Luke clearing his throat, then,"'It's so bitterly cold that my whole body crackles!' Said the Snow Man."

Ashton lifts an eyebrow wearily,"Now you're telling me an Andersen's Fairy Tale?"

"Shh. Shut up and be a good boy. It's my favorite one." then, "This wind can really blow life into you! And how that glaring thing up there glares at me!" He meant the sun; it was just setting..."

Luke reads on, and Ashton finds himself relaxing, sinking into the familiar tale he’s read hundreds of times as a toddler, following the thread of the story, recalling the dialogue, how the Snow Man calls the Old Watchdog “my friend”.

Luke's voice fades for a brief second, then returns, slightly changed, softer, “Then the Snow Man looked, and he really saw a brightly polished thing with a brass stomach and fire glowing from the lower part of it. A very strange feeling swept over the Snow Man...”

Here comes the part- tracing the memory he can still feel it, the confusion when toddler him read to this part, then realization and excitement for no reason when he picked it up again, just for one time, before he come to this city.

He thought a new place brings a new life. That he would finally leave that old black and white town. He thought he knew what life was all about, what love was.

So ambitious, so young, so dumb.

Ashton blinks furiously, shaking the thoughts flooding up away from his mind. He’s here, in his favorite place, with an adorable boy who keeps his company, reading a tale to him. He’s fine, they’re fine, it’s fine.

His eyes lands on Luke.

The small lamp on the table is tilted slightly, soft golden light casting gently down on the boy’s right side, splitting a silhouette, leaving the left side of his face in the shadow. Curls falls off his face, dangling. His long, thick eyelashes turns to an almost-silver color under the light, trembling slightly, dancing altogether with the little particles floating in the air, as those blue eyes, clear as the sunny day but still deep as the sea, moves with each line, each word on the page. Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

The story’s still going, coming to an end, and Luke’s voice, a little raspy now, is merely above a whisper, like if he tells it any louder the fragile, beautiful tragedy will be destroyed.

“Come out, dear sun! Come often, skies of blue!

And nobody thought any more about the Snow Man.”

And with that Silence falls, a sad love story coming to its end.

For a while they just sits, looking into each others eyes.

The atmosphere’s changed, he knows it, can feel it. It’s a brand new feeling, one he has never felt, the rising urge, the need, the want, to get closer to the boy in front of him, to truly know him, to be with him, go through everything with him, feel the same with him, to like him, love him.

Hesitantly, he reaches out, slowly, hand trembling.

For a moment Luke seems to be on the same page with him, eyes fluttering shut and automatically leaning in, but suddenly he gasps, like being reminded of something he has long forgotten, and recoils back sharply, Ashton’s hand touches nothing but air.

Why.

“It’s late, Ash.” Luke whispered, not looking him in the face, “Maybe the other day.”

Something’s changed between them.

Not that the intimacy has changed- no. They still meets at the very table, reading and chatting, Luke still listens to his bickering about homework and fucking lab life- but something’s there, like The Sword of Damocles, hanging dangerously, but both just choose to ignore it.

Luke’s still Luke, sweet and gentle, cute and caring. But he’s somewhat quieter then before- he’s still chatting when it comes to their hobbies, but he always stops abruptly after the topic’s over, cutting the conversation.

It’s only that Ashton’s confused, confused about fucking all of it, confused about why Luke refused his invitation, why Luke takes a step back while he finally decides to step forward. It’s like an invisible barrier is built, all things suddenly turns indefinite without reason.

He hate it. He fucking hate all of it.

It’s only worse that he’s stuck in the library right now- it’s pouring outside, he’s left his umbrella at home, his jacket has no hat, and Luke’s oddly quiet.

He’s reading, more of scanning automatically, mind crowded with uncomfortable thoughts, screaming at him to at least find out what’s wrong with Luke(he don’t know how when they’re in this awkward state), to pluck up his courage and try again(well look what a coward he becomes when it comes to pining), to get this mess sorted (to which he has absolutely no fucking idea).

Fucking shitty day.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed- the sky is darkening, pure black seeping into pale gray, as the window starts to mirror the lighted lamp, making it unable to see the outside.

He hears a sigh, then the sound of book shut.

He can see those clear blue eyes from the corner of his eye, a little dim than usual, like the eyes of a sad puppy, and that almost break his heart. He wants to get close to the boy again, tell him it’s okay, he’s here, no need to keep those shit all alone and stuff- but instead he stares intently at the screen, so hard that his eyes starts to water, cursing himself inwardly.

A pause. Then, “Ash.”

Ashton gives himself a slap in the head, then puts on his most cheery face, “Yeah?”

Luke shakes his head furiously, “Don’t... Don’t act in front of me. I know you’re not well these days, and it’s all because of,” He waves his hand impatiently, then pulls his curls, casting out another deep sigh, “Yes, I... feel there is something I need to explain.”

And again he finds himself lost of words, exactly like the last time Luke made an explanation. But Luke’s acting different- strange. He’s frowning, shifting in his seat, hands tightly clasped together, teeth tugging at his lower lip, eyes filled with... fear.

Luke has never gone frightened in front of him.

“Hey, hey.” He reaches out, trying to grab Luke’s hand, but the boy squealed and pulls away abruptly again- so he just sighs, being as comforting as possible, “It’s okay, Luke. All okay.”

Finally the boy seems to have made the decision. He points to the book he just finished, which is lying on the table now, “The second short story.”

“You’re making me a puzzle through Marquez? Typical.” Ashton picks up the book, checking the writer. He’s trying to make a joke, but it came out weak and not funny at all, as Luke just sighs again and rests his head in his hands.

“I don’t know how to say it, so.” God, he hates how Luke’s voice sounds, all hurt and in pain.

“Luke, I mean, I’m not forcing you, but you know you can tell me everything-” panic’s rising, and he feels the urge, that they’re coming to the crossroads-

“Um, Ashton?”

He’s never hated life- the approaching librarian as well- more than now.

“Yes?”

She comes to stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder, “It’s ten now and we’re closing in five minutes. You need an umbrella?”

“Um, just a minute. We have something to discuss. I promise it’ll be quick.” He gestures to the seat across the table, where he knows Luke’s sitting.

He expects a nod, but her face is puzzled, coated with a layer he can’t read, “We? But Ashton, there’s no one across the table.”

“What?”

His head whips around, so quick that he thinks he must have strained his neck. He closes his eyes, then opens them again- yes, Luke is sitting right there, in the chair, totally frozen besides the nervous act just now- but he’s there.

“But...”

She only shakes her head, “You’re the only one here all day, Ashton. No one else feels like coming on such a stormy weather.”

With that she leaves.

Ashton turns back to Luke frantically, “What the hell-”

He’s met with a stony face and watery blue eyes. Luke seems defeated and in total grief.

“Tell me, Luke. Tell me!” Panic overcomes him, his voice three octaves higher than usual. It can’t be real, it’s just his fantasy, things like this can’t happen in real life...

Luke holds out his trembling hand, and very slowly, reaches over, linking it with Ashton’s.

A wave of icy cold rises up- from his feet up to his spine, overwhelming him, drowning him, making his head dizzy, the world turning, the sense-

The sense of not being touched.

Luke’s hands go straight through his.

“Because they can’t see me.” The silhouette figure whispers, voice barely audible.

“I’m not as real as you see me, Ash.”

The next three days come and go like a blurry scene.

Ashton remembers it just vaguely- he remembers fleeing out of the library, running alone the dark campus path till his chest burns and every breath becomes a burden. He remembers the rain, pouring down and hitting him relentlessly, flowing off his face, mixed with some warm fluid he didn’t dare to think about. He remembers walking back to the dorm, all worn out and broken down, throwing himself on his bed and crying till weariness finally came over. He slept, then woke, then ushered himself into sleep again, like only in dreamland he could forget all of it, until he was really not able to sleep anymore.

He pushes himself up from his bed and stumbles into the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror. He looks like shit, even worse than a hangover, purple bags hanging from his eyes and hair sticking in all directions. He sighs, turning to walk from the bathroom, cursing as he nearly trips over something on the ground- but the word died halfway in his throat.

It’s that book. The Collection of Marquez’s Short Stories. He must have thrown it on the floor that night.

Ashton swallows, hesitant- he’s not that sure if he’s ready to face it, that memory, that typical boy- but his hand does it for him, already flipping through the pages.

The second work, what is the second work......

He sees the title.

Someone Messed up the Roses.

He takes in a breath.

Today’s Sunday, the rain’s stopped, and I want to pick some red and white roses to my grave...

His eyes is welling up, but he reads on, about the story of a boy’s ghost and his sister, a wish never coming true, a story of love and regret.

There’s a note, written in Italic, at the corner of the page, end of the story, black ink suggesting it’s freshly written.

You have given me the happiest moments my whole life and beyond life, Ash. It might be like a cheesy novel, but I love you and I’m sorry.

Luke Hemmings

He’s crying before he knows it.

“Fuck, Luke.”

The scenery outside the window’s changing, fading from concrete jungle to fields and woods. On the end of the road, a hill’s approaching.

He’s sitting in the bus, hand clutching at Marquez’s Collection and a piece of paper- a piece of paper Mrs. Hemmings gave him, showing a route to the place he wants to go.

The vehicle stops and Ashton stands, hopping off the bus, going for the iron door just beside the muddy road.

He pushes it open, the rust on it sticking on his hands, the scent of soil coming up to greet him. As he keeps walking stones appears- delicately carved, yet lifeless.

An oak. That’s what she told him- an oak beside him.

He lifts his head, looking around, and found it- an oak, already tall, rising from the soil, pointing straight to the pale-gray sky.

Uncertainty and fear echoes in the back of his mind, trying to stop him, as he just goes on.

He’s already experienced lost once. He doesn’t want to lose it again.

He stops in front of the oak, hesitates before sitting down, cross- legged.

“I don’t know what to say, Luke.”

He stops, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“A part of me is telling me to forget all this, deny it, wave it off as a dream. It’s all just a fantasy, something I pictured, and I’m supposed to, I should...”

“But, Luke, every minute spent with you is so real.”

“They would say I’m crazy, everyone will; I mean, who would believe a person falling in love with someone already gone- and supposed to be in the state of nonexistence? But... you’re like someone I finally found, a person in this world who could understand me... Who I’ve searched for my whole life.”

He sniffs, blinking away the tears welling up, “You know, during my years alone I’ve learned about not to expect, not to hope; but you... you bring the difference, like a light suddenly cracking in. I mean... if you’re there, if you’re really there... please, just please, give me something to hope, to wish for, and don’t just go away like that.”

“Because I’m so lonely,” He finally let it slip, “So lonely, Luke.”

A soft wind picks up, leaves rustling, like an answer. But as he listens on everything just stays silent, like they’ve always been forever. No silhouette, no soft voice belonging to a boy.

The sky’s getting dark, so he just pushes himself up and leaves.

He continues with the life. Attending classes, finishing homework, finally deciding his research orientation. His professor says something about “A big step” and “I know you can do it”, which he just brushes it all off, not truly listen.

He continues to go to the library- but not sitting in that very table anymore, and just stays there for less then an hour each day. He’s read Someone Messed Up the Roses again and again, like all of the other works have suddenly lost their attraction to him.

The pages are all dog-eared and worn out, but he just goes on with it, flipping the pages, ready to read the short story for like the twentieth time.

“I wouldn’t treat a book like that, you know.”

He jumps from his seat, eyes widening, turning around.

Someone turns up from behind the bookshelf.

Messy curls, sea- blue eyes, the lips curling up in a slight smile.

It’s like a dream. He’s in a dream.

Like he can read Ashton’s mind, the blonde walks straight up to him and extends his arms, wrapping him into an embrace.

He feels warmth.

Still no feelings of being touched, the figure still semitransparent, but warmth.

“It’s real. Don’t doubt it.” Luke’s voice is soft, reassuring, barely above a whisper.

Just like he remembers.

The warmth doesn’t fade, like when he’s standing under the afternoon sun, closing his eyes, feeling the hope coming up.

He finally believes it- tears are sliding down his face before he knows it.

“Luke."

#lashton #5sos fic #5sos fanfic #5sos fanfiction #5sosfam #5sos fanart #5sos fandom #5sos slash #first work and I'm nervous as hell

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thedarkstrangeson · 5 years ago

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Falling, Failing, Rising (1/7)

A/N: Wow, a fic! Kinda miraculous, huh? Well, I hope you enjoy. The plan is to update every 2/3 days until finished.

ao3

Ch1(here) | Ch2 | Ch3

Warnings: Lots of (accidental) misgendering, dysphoria, occasional cursing, panic attacks, anxiety Summary: Being trans is hard. It’s panic attacks and dysphoria and nights of not knowing. It’s figuring things out and letting it knock you over, it’s understanding and trying so damn hard to say something but failing, always failing. But sometimes, when you make it through all the dark parts and you see yourself for who you are, sometimes when those words finally come out, sometimes… Sometimes it’s happiness. Sometimes it's love. Sometimes it's rising on unsteady legs and standing anyway. Sometimes, it’s pride.

This is a Virgil-centric fic for pride month, featuring all of the sides portrayed sympathetically. It’s also got fem!Logan (Her name is Eibhlin, for pronunciation it is usually anglicized as Evelyn) and fem!Janus (she does not get a name change because Jan is just lovely like that). Virgil is afab and named Adeline. Chapter 1: When the world burns, can’t I burn with it?

The week had been rough, to say the least. Adeline was definitely not thriving under the mountains of school work, and overall something had been dragging her down lately. That nagging feeling of discomfort, usually ignored during the times when life was good enough, was there in full force. She never understood where it came from, but it was probably fine. Something to be figured out later, after all this stress had passed. Right now, she was running late for school.

Addie shoved another notebook into her backpack before pulling on a black MCR hoodie, baggy grey sweats completing the look. She was a senior, she could wear whatever she wanted and nobody would say a word. They were all tired blobs in shapeless clothing anyway.

The drive to school was thankfully uneventful. Addie had to admit that she probably worried a little too much about getting into an accident. That anxiety was the only thing keeping her from speeding to school, as she very nearly hated being late more than driving. Being the last person to walk into class in the morning just made her skin crawl.

Tossing her backpack over a shoulder, she strode quickly into school and across the quad, before arriving at oh fuck its math. She had completely forgotten about the math test that morning, and it was about to bite back, hard. She tried to be quiet about opening the door, but she still felt the eyes on her back as the teacher gave instructions.

The test went horribly, to say the least. She couldn’t seem to get her brain to engage, and it just left everything looking like gibberish. By the end, she’d left three problems entirely blank, with several more besides that had completely BS answers. That, combined with this growing darkness sitting in her chest was leaving her solidly not okay. Even going to hide in the bathroom for a bit during the morning’s study period didn’t seem like it’d help; the idea of going into the bathrooms itself just made everything worse.

Instead, Addie withdrew further into her hoodie and walked to a grassy area near the back of the school where her friends could usually be found. At least they had seen her break down before, and maybe she could get there quickly enough to avoid this choking feeling, the breath beginning to catch in her lungs, the blurry eyes, but no it was already here and pulling out of this one was not going to be easy.

“Adeline, are you doing quite alright?” said Eibhlin, turning away from her conversation with one of the twins, Roman.

“No, I just fucked up, big time, and—” she inhaled shakily, “Gods I just feel really terrible today and I don’t know why and I can’t do anything about it—”

“Hey, it’ll be okay, Addie, come sit down?” said Roman.

“No, I… It’s not alright and I don’t know why and please don’t lie to me, Ro.” Everything about her just felt gross, it wasn’t right she just wanted to get out of here. She started looking around frantically but there wasn’t anywhere that felt safe and her eyes were wet now and—.

Eb caught her wrist, when had she come over here?

“Let’s take a deep breath, with me,” she said calmly.

As though it was even possible, Addie sunk further into her hoodie. She tried to breathe, but her lungs didn’t seem to obey. She let herself be led over to the grass, and they sat down. Addie was beginning to shake now, and her breathing wasn’t faring much better.

“Can I touch you?” said Roman.

Addie considered it a moment, before nodding and leaning back into his chest.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t— hic —didn’t mean for this to happen, I just— hic —messed up my math test so bad, and this morning was so bad— hic —and the world just isn’t right sometimes and” she continued to babble on, and Roman just held her. Eb signalled subtly to the rest of their friends as they came up to take it easy, Addie wasn’t doing super great right then. Janus nodded, before settling down with her book next to Eibhlin. Patton murmured sympathy, but just listened. Interjecting anything wasn’t helpful for Addie just yet.

For her part, Adeline’s words were beginning to slow up, until she turned into that melted sadness puddle that these things always seemed to end with. Curled up, in a hoodie, feeling that black weight on her heart and crawling over her skin, and her hair too long and with a heat like molten wire, burning every place it fell. Why me? Why does my body hate me?

The world never answered. Ch1(here) | Ch2 | Ch3

#ts sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #fic #dark strange writing #dark strange creations #pride fic #FFR fic #trans!virgil #fem!logan #fem!janus #fem!sides #afab!virgil #high school au

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allthingsfangirl101 · 5 years ago

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RA&L Chapter 4: A Day of Speaking

Masterlist

It's been about a week and Dylan hasn't said a word to me. He hasn't even tried to talk to me. Instead, if he sees me, he sends me a small smile before turning on his heel and walking the other way.

Normal people would feel weird about him turning away, but I didn't care. That's always been the reaction I get since I came to this center. After a hundred stares and countless jaws on the floor, you tend to learn to just ignore them.

I walked into Evan's office to see him awkwardly smiling at me. "I have good news for you, kiddo."

I sat down and put my hands in my lap. I nervously chewed my bottom lip as he opened my file. "Stop that," he laughed, not looking up at me.

He put my file down, finally looking up at me. "I want you to try talking today."

"Really?" I mouthed.

"Really," he smiled. "And. . ." He took his phone out of his pocket and held it out for me to take. "I talked to your mom. Her and the twins are waiting for your call."

I started to mouth something but he playfully shook his head. "Try. Right now."

I took a deep breath before shakily clearing my throat. I opened and closed my mouth a few more times. "Come on, kiddo. I know you weren't able to speak the last week, but we ran the test. I double-checked. Come on, Dells. You can do it."

"Thank you."

My eyes watered. Partly from the rough and painful feeling and partly from finally speaking after over a week. He grabbed my hand, smiling proudly at me.

"Told you," he smirked. "Now, remember to continually drink water and I will see you tonight when you give me my phone back and tell me how your brothers are doing." He smiled at me. I took his phone and couldn't stop smiling as I walked back to my room.

I looked up when I almost bumped into someone. "Oh sorry," the person gasped as he grabbed me.

I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw Dylan looking down at me. "You okay?"

I nodded, looking away. He cleared his throat, finally letting me go. I looked up to see him hesitating something.

"Look," he said suddenly.

I bit my lip, watching him study me. His eyes widened like he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. He cleared his throat, shoving his hands into his front pockets. I look down at Evan's phone in my hand, wanting more than anything to hear my little brothers' voices.

"Della?"

We turned around to see Evan walking towards us. "Why don't you go make that call, okay?"

"Call?" Dylan asked, looking between the two of us. I bit my bottom lip when I heard Evan clear his throat, disappointed.

"O'Brien, you have a group meeting to go to, so go. Now." Evan sent him a glare. I turned around and headed back to my room to call my brothers, but not before hearing Evan threaten Dylan.

"I have told you, several times, to stay away from her."

"Why do you care so much whether or not I talk to her?" Dylan scoffed. "It's not like I'm gonna corrupt her."

"Look," Evan sighed. "Della's been through enough and I'm just trying to protect her from getting her heart broken."

"You think I'm gonna. . ."

"Yeah, Hollywood. I do."

* * * * *

"Mom finally took us out driving."

"Jason almost hit a mailbox."

"Well, Jack almost ran over Mrs. Wilson's cat."

"It darted out right in front of me!"

I laughed as the boys bickered back and forth about who was the better driver. The boys were 15 and both had their Learner's Permits. To say they were excited to drive was an understatement. It was also an understatement to say that my parents were terrified to have two reckless 16-year olds in the house.

"Boys," my mother half sighed, half laughed. "I doubt on the few occasions Della gets to talk to us, she wants to spend it listening to the two of you bicker."

"I don't mind," I had to whisper. My voice was slowly sounding stronger than it did when I tried to speak to Evan this morning, but I still had to whisper. If I talked any louder, it burned my throat. "I've missed their mindless fighting and pointless arguments."

"Pointless?" They both said at the same time. I laughed as they started to argue how their arguments weren't mindless or pointless.

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" The second my mom asked, both of my brothers stopped talking, waiting to hear my answer.

"I'm okay, I guess." I shrugged, even though they couldn't see me. "I miss you guys."

"We miss you too!" My brothers shouted in sync. They loved talking at the same time. They thought it was funny. Claiming that since they were twins, they had magical powers.

"But what did Evan say? He seemed pretty upbeat and, dare I say excited when he set up this call for us." My mom said with a small laugh.

"Well, last week the test results weren't where they were hoping they would be."

"That's why we didn't get to talk to you," Jack mumbled.

"Yeah," I sighed. "I'm sorry. I thought I was having a good week, but. . . I went into a coughing fit the day before. I spent the night on the breathing machine."

"I hate that stupid machine," Jason said, sounding angry. "It's loud and you don't sleep well when they put it on you."

"I know," I said softly. I cleared my throat, instantly reaching over and grabbing my water. "Anyway," I said, my voice cracking. "As much as you and I hate that machine, it helped. They had me on it all weekend, even upped my medicine this week. So, thanks to that stupid machine, I am able to call you guys."

A silence fell among the four of us. The boys hated hearing about my medicine and my time here. Usually, my mom and I talk about this separately, but Jason said he wanted to hear it which means Jack wanted to be involved too. They really are twins.

"Where's Dad?" I asked, trying to change the subject and break the tension.

"He should be home any minute, baby. You should've heard him talking about finally being able to talk to you today. He was so excited, he left work early."

"Oh!" Jack yelled, making me laugh. "I heard a rumor that Dylan O'Brien fell off the wagon and ended up at your center."

"Jack, do you even know what 'falling off the wagon' means?" I laughed.

"No," he said slowly. "That's just what it says on Buzzfeed."

"Because that's reliable," I joked.

"So, have you met him, Dells?" Jason asked.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "A few times."

The boys let out surprised yells, nothing but excitement coming through the phone. They shot out different questions, asking me about him. I waited until they had calmed down to say anything.

"Our run-ins have been. . . Interesting."

"Interesting?" My mom said, clearly trying to hold in a laugh. "What does that mean?"

"It means that he's an egotistical actor with a big mouth and an even bigger head."

"Damn, Dells. Tellin' him how it is," Jason laughed.

"Language," my mother warned. "I'm sure it's all just an act."

"Even with no cameras?" Jack scoffed.

"More importantly, is he being rude to you, honey?" My mother asked, her concern growing.

Out of the entire family, mom probably had the hardest time sending me to the center. The twins hated the idea of not being able to visit me, dad didn't like leaving me either, but mom struggled the most. She struggled with not being able to help me through what I was going through.

Mom was the one in the family who loved taking care of us when we were sick. She always nursed us back to health. But with my accident, she couldn't. She hates not being able to help me get better. Almost as much as she hated sending me somewhere else to get the help I needed.

"No," I sighed. "It's just. . . He doesn't know what happened and what's going on so he is insensitive. Evan is continually running interference though," I added quickly, trying to reassure her.

"Good," my mother said sternly. "Listen, baby, if you have any problems with that actor, I want you to let Evan handle it. Okay? I trust him."

Most parents would be a little nervous with a 29-year old man getting close to their 24-year old daughter. But when my mom heard why Evan and I were getting close and his history with his own PT, she welcomed it. With open arms.

"I know," I sighed. Tears built up in my eyes as I thought about how much I missed my family. After the accident, I had a really hard time. I couldn't have gotten through it if it weren't for them.

"Dells?" Jason said, his voice soft. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I tried to laugh it off. "I'm fine, Jas. You know me."

"That's the problem," he mumbled.

"What does that mean?"

It was quiet as Jason hesitated. "It's just, I know you, Adeline. You always think you have to be the strong one and handle things on your own. I just wish. . . I wish you would let someone help you."

My heart sank when I heard his voice crack, "Hey," I said gently. "Jason? Jack? I want you two to listen to me very carefully. I don't want you boys to worry about me too much, okay? I am letting Evan and Dr. Hailey help me as much as they can. I promise. We are doing everything we can to get me better. Before you know it, I'll be home, better than ever."

"I miss you," Jason said softly.

"Me too. I wish they would let us visit," Jack sighed.

"I know," I said, the tears fighting to fall. "I do too."

We were all quiet, the front door could be heard opening and closing. "Hello?" I heard my dad call out.

"Boys, why don't you go finish your homework while Dad and I talk to Dells for a few minutes?" Mom suggested.

"Okay," Jason sighed, sounding defeated.

"Just promise you'll get us before she has to go," Jack said quickly.

"Yeah," Jason said, his voice brightening up. "We want to say goodbye. You hear that, Dells? Don't hang up without saying bye."

"I would never," I laughed. "I love you, boys."

"We love you too, Dells." They said in unison.

"I saw the boys run out of here, figured you were talking to Dell-Bell without me."

"Sorry, dad." I laughed.

"I know that look," my dad sighed, talking to mom. "What happened?"

"The boys really miss her, Henry. Do you think we could arrange something with Evan? Even if it was just Della and the boys?"

"I'm not sure," my dad said slowly. "Maybe? I'd have to call and talk to Evan. You think he'd let you, Della?"

"Maybe," I shrugged even though they couldn't see me. "I mean, he lets us talk on the phone, his personal phone. So, I don't see why not."

There was silence, none of us really knowing what to say. I sighed, about to say something, when Dad broke the silence.

"So, Dell-Bell. You sound better than you did a few weeks ago."

"Yeah," I sighed. "Evan says that the medicine is working. Slowly, but at least it's doing something."

"What happened last week? I thought we were scheduled to talk, but Mom said you had to cancel it because of a coughing attack? Are you alright?"

"I'm better. They had to put me on the breathing machine that weekend so Evan didn't want to risk me talking and getting worse."

"That's good," dad sighed. "I mean we missed hearing your voice, but if it helps you get better. . ." His voice dropped, him not finishing his sentence.

"How's everything else, sweetheart? Did you make any friends? I know Dr. Hailey has been pushing you," Mom jumped in.

"It's good, I guess. I mean, it's kind of hard to make friends with other patients, but I started using the whiteboard."

"That's great," my mom said excitedly. "It'll help you communicate. I'm proud of you, baby."

I hummed in response, not knowing what to say but also needing to give my vocal cords a break. I chewed on my bottom lip, waiting for someone to break the silence.

The conversations with the twins were always lively and full of laughter. When I talked to just my parents, we usually talked about the more serious concerns, the kind of things we can't (or don't want to) talk about around the boys.

"Whatever happens, sweetie, we don't want you thinking we are pressuring you. We just want to encourage you to make the best of all of this," Mom said soothingly.

"I know," I said, my voice breaking slightly. "You've been saying that since the accident."

"We love you," dad said, chuckling slightly.

"I love you guys too."

"Well," my mom said, clearing her throat. "Why don't I call the boys back and we'll let you go? I know it's almost dinner time and you need to get Evan's phone back to him before he leaves for the night."

I waited until I heard the twins running in. We said our goodbyes, reminding each other how much we loved one another. Before I hung up, Jason spoke up.

"Della?"

"Yeah?"

"You know we're always thinking about you, right? We haven't. . . We don't forget you."

"I know, Jas. Just like how I am always thinking about you guys."

"We pray for your recovery, Della," Jack added.

"I appreciate that, boys. I really do. Thank you."

"I love you, Della!"

"Not as much as I love you, Della!"

"I love you both too," I said, a single tear sliding down my cheek.

* * * * *

After giving Evan his phone back and updating him on my brothers and parents (I didn't have the courage to ask him about the boys visiting), I headed outside. I sat at the table under my favorite tree, reading, when suddenly a shadow blocked my sun.

"Hey."

I looked up from my book to see Dylan standing above me. "Can I sit?" He asked, gesturing to a seat across from me.

I looked down at the spot and then back at him, not changing my expression. "Okay then," he mumbled as he shoved his hands into his front pockets, not sitting down.

"Look," he sighed, "I just wanted to apologize for the other day. I didn't mean to offend you when I called you, Ariel. I thought it was a cute nickname."

I scoffed as I put my book down and grabbed the whiteboard.

"That's why you think I don't like you? A dumb-ass princess nickname?"

"Well, no." He stuttered, reading the whiteboard. "It's probably because I called you a bitch."

I sent him a look before writing, "Believe me. I know I am one."

He let out a small laugh after reading the whiteboard. Feeling slightly uncomfortable and not sure what to do, I didn't look at him as I quickly erased the board.

"I'm guessing one of the doctors gave that to you so you could communicate."

"Obviously."

"Smart. Your hand must get tired though." I looked up at him, an "are you kidding me?" look on my face. Which his response was to laugh.

Again.

"Will you ever be able to speak?"

I shrugged as I wrote, "Maybe. I'm taking a soothing medication and doing PT but. . ."

I looked up as he nodded. "So, what exactly happened? How does someone lose their voice?"

I clenched my jaw as he laughed. "I mean those scars were pretty gnarly. Almost looked like someone tried to cut your head off."

I stood up, grabbed my stuff and started walking away, clutching my whiteboard and book to my chest.

"Wait," I heard him sigh as he tried to catch up to me. He grabbed my arm and spun me around. I instantly tore my arm out of his grasp and took a few steps back.

"Why did you run away?" I looked up at him, silently asking if he was kidding. "I'm just trying to understand what happened to you."

"It's none of your business," I wrote.

"Sorry," he scoffed. "A girl who doesn't talk has crazy scars on her throat. You can't blame a guy for being curious. Seriously, though. It's not like I'm going to judge you. I just want to know what happened."

I bit my lip, swallowing to try and wet my throat. I looked up at him, determination in my eyes. I knew how bad this was going to hurt after talking to Jack and Jason all day, but I didn't care. I had to do it.

"It doesn't concern you."

I walked away, a smirk on my lips as I left him with his jaw was on the floor.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien fanfic #tfios #rehab love story #RAL

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thelittlestcheshire · 5 years ago

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+ Hey Mom!

Dear Maman;

I don’t know why I keep writing you, perhaps it’s because in some ways - I feel like you’re the only one who’d understand everything; even if you’re not here to listen. Grand-maman keeps telling me just how similar you were at my age, for years I thought she was just confusing me with Effie, or Ella. A few lost marbles in her old age, but over Christmas, she actually gave me your journals. I suppose this isn’t the way you would have wanted me to learn about you, but they help. It gives me hope that, maybe, if you were still alive today, you’d actually be able to talk me through all of this. I suppose we Andrieux women are forged in fire, perhaps like that quote about the stars. Withering, dying, beautiful, brilliant. From all the stories, I can’t imagine arrière grand-mère’s tale is much different the rest of ours, I suppose I wish I knew her better when I was still able to.

I wish I could write to you to tell you about how wonderful things are going here, how the clouds have cleared and we’ve finally reached the end of the tunnel but I’m afraid that’s not quite the case yet. I keep having the nightmares, every night I wake up screaming. Reaching for you, trying to stop it - feeling almost as if your blood is back on my hands and I’ll never quite be able to clean it off of my skin. I feel like they’re actually getting worse, I’m sorry maman. I keep hearing you’d want me to move on, but I can’t. I let you down, I’ve probably let you down so many times over the years it’s not funny. With him, for following down the path you went down you’d never want me to follow down. I’m sorry I still can’t shake the feeling that it should have been me, that you should still be here.

Sometimes it feels like I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing; like I’m being torn in different directions all the time, and I thought coming back to school would make things easier but it’s even worse. All I want is to go home, but I don’t even know which home anymore. Manhattan, Paris, Luxor? Nothing feels right. I still feel like that poor little lambie, maman. “Birds and the butterflies, pecking out its eyes” and all. Sometimes, I think the sensation is getting worse. Perhaps it’s thanks to everything going on here with the circle.

I’ve been drinking again, Emmett has been too. Sometimes, after the nightmares, I still call him and he talks me down like when we were children. I don’t tell him about the circle, about what’s going on here, I can’t bring myself to hear the concern I’m certain you’re feeling as you watch from above. You’d be so disappointed in me, drinking, sleeping around, trying so desperately to keep father happy and failing every step of the way. I haven’t been going to Mass, I haven’t gone to confessional, I’ve been letting you down every step of the way. And yet, when I read your journals, I feel closer to you than ever before. You made so many mistakes, and yet, you became the best mother a girl could have ever asked for - we were so lucky you were ours, I just wish you never had to go.

I wish I could go back in time and change it, I wish I knew who pulled the trigger, I wish I could tell him how much I hope he burns for everything he did to you and our family. If we have answers, nobody will tell me, maybe it’s for my sake, maybe it’s for his, maybe it’s even for yours. You weren’t the type to wish ill on others, grand-papa says that’s the one trait I got from my father. I just hope you understand why I feel the way I do, that you don’t hate me for the anger, for the guilt, for the throbbing pain I feel sometimes when someone says your name.

I’m back in therapy again, I think you’d be happy about that - he’s pushing me, but it’s helping. I still refuse to do the homework he gives me, there’s no way I’m bringing mental health packets anywhere near these people, they’d eat me alive, but I think he’s starting to understand why a bit? Not that I’m telling him the truth either about the Circle shit, I told him something about a bitchy cheerleader named Barbara who likes to torture people and while I don’t think he’s completely buying it, he’s not pushing. Sorry for the language, I’m trying not to swear in this, I promise I remember how much you hated hearing those words.

In some better news, Logan’s doing better! At least, that’s what he keeps telling us. I’m scared, he lied the last time things were getting bad, and I’m not there to keep an eye on him. I’m not there to intervene and take care of him if he needs me to, I’m here. I keep reminding myself Jonah is right there, that the better twin has him and it’s going to be okay. That none of us are ever going to let him down again because we can’t afford to lose him, but I’m scared. I’m always scared lately, I really wish I was able to cut out my heart at this point. All of these emotions would go away, it’d no longer matter how much I think about everything going on as I stare at my ceiling late a night because it’d no longer hurt. I wish I could, but I can’t. Human biology hasn’t gotten there quite yet, I’m afraid. Let’s add that to the list of things I’d like to happen, probably after bionics - Mass Effect style.

Impossible wishes, but maybe you’d get a chuckle from them.

Jamie and I still can’t see eye to eye, it’s the same old argument. He slept with my boyfriend, he refuses to apologize, and he’s massive jerk every time I see him and I react. I think he knows it upsets father when I react, so he’s doing it to keep his spot as the favorite without competition. as if I’d want that spot. I’d just love it if father would actually show up next year for Christmas so I don’t have to give his presents to the secretary to deliver to his office, but that’s about it at this point. I’m sure things would be different if you were still here, I really miss you. I can’t believe it’s almost been ten years.

Otherwise, I know I mentioned Emmett is still my emotional support human, but did you see he’s going to propose to Camellia. Jamie’s throwing a fit, screaming everyone’s too young, but I know Cam - it’s going to be a long engagement anyway. I’m happy for them, I wish you had been able to meet her. You’d love her, she might be a model but I swear I’ve never seen anyone light up at the words “poisonous spider” the way she does. She’s so down to earth, I’m looking forward to meeting her father the next time he’s in the states. I’ve heard so much about the famous wildlife photographer, Pascal Lima, but meeting him? That’s going to be amazing. Jonah is doing well, he has a new girlfriend, he’s still photographing all the dogs he gets to pet and turning it into a scrapbook - I wish I was more like him sometimes. So full of life, so happy to be alive. I miss him a lot this time, but I suppose it’s okay. I have my own electric bright spot keeping my on my toes here.

I’ve written to you about Elliot before though, so I suppose in this exercise, you already know exactly who I’m on about. I wish you could meet him, Lucy, Ian, Adrian, Callie, and Sora, they’re some of the best friends a girl can have - you know? I’m used to this feeling, but sometimes, I wish I could actually have confirmation for this gut feeling - that you’d like my friends, that you’d be happy I found people who make me feel good about myself regardless of all the fucked up things that have happened. That leave me feeling like, that maybe, someday, if I put enough hard work in, maybe I could actually matter and be more than just a person who existed. Like I could actually go after my dreams and make it, if I wanted to. Anyway, let me cover the rest of what I want to discuss and wrap this up. I’m sure heaven has better things to do than reading a letter your daughter wrote.

I don’t know how guardian angels work if it’s actually a thing and what-not, but if it is - I need you to do me a massive favor. Please send someone to keep an eye on Effie and Ella. I’m really worried about them, they look up to me so much, and the last thing I want is for them to become fucked up like me. To become so disappointing their own father can’t even look at them without being reminded, that one, that one destroyed my family. I’ve noticed Effie counting calories, I’ve heard the puking she’s tried to hide in the bathroom. Logan and I are trying to nudge her towards help gently, I don’t know what will set her off, but I can’t watch another sibling go down the path of destruction and yet, I don’t know if my attempts to help will make things worse or keep her safe. And Ella, she’s already asking to go to the MAC counter, for leather pants and crop tops. She’s so young, I can still remember braiding her hair and watching Sesame Street during breakfast with her. She’s growing up so fast and I want to pull her back, hand her a doll, and say “no, you need to enjoy this before it’s too late; before you spend your nights worrying about children at home and ‘that test was an A-, how could you let everyone down with an A-, you’re a worthless, disgusting person for being less than perfect.’”

Before you turn out like your big sister.

Maman, did you feel this way with Tatie Adeline? Were you this scared, looking at your decisions and praying that she wouldn’t make your mistakes, that she’d be better? I feel like I failed the girls, that I failed you, and I don’t know how to fix any of this. I’m trying my best, but maman, please, if it’s possible, help me keep her from making my mistakes. From feeling like alcohol is the only thing that’ll keep her together once everything feels like it’s about to shatter on the floor around her, from getting testing for STDs at least once a month because she thinks flings are better than heartbreak, from believing - even for a second, she’s not worth more than every single star in the sky or that I don’t love her and Effie with every fiber of my being. Help me do a better job of filling your shoes so I do better by them than I did for myself.

I’m sorry I’m writing about my problems again, I promise it’s not all bad here though. Remember what I said about my friends? Lucy and I might vacation this summer if things go to plan, I think I’m going to try to drag Sora to a few baseball games this year, and Elliot genuinely makes me feel like music - it’s strange to think about sometimes. I’d say don’t ask, but, it’s not like you could if you wanted to. My boys are a pretty good pick me up, Ian and Adrian - of course, even with everything going on in all our lives. I’m okay, really - I’m doing better, it’s really great here. So please don’t do that thing with your nose, if that’s something you’re able to do up there. Can’t say I really know for sure what the deal is, but I hope you’re okay.

I love you, maman. I’ll write to you again soon.

Love always,

#//so this is long and I'm emotional #//ask me to tag if I forgot any tws #murder tw #death tw #blood tw #violence tw #drugs tw #Anonymous #alcohol tw #alcohol mention tw #vomiting tw #vomit mention tw #eating disorder tw #answered #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )#musings ( elswood family )

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