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skaikruswan · 2 years ago

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That meowpheus fic was amazing. Could you do one where he's sulking and everyone in the dreaming is trying to figure out why. Turns out that reader has gone on an excursion to map out fiddlers green. So once returned morpheus(or meowpheus your choice) is suddenly very clingy and wants so much PDA. Thanks love, keep up the great stories!

One should never ignore a cat or an Endless, or both

WC: 1,6 k Ao3

Relationship: Morpheus x reader

Notes: sulking Morpheus, fluff, PDA

Thanks, this was a great prompt! Dear readers, while you can read this as stand-alone, it is more of a soft sequel to this Meowpheus prompt. Enjoy! If you liked this, check out my other stories.

I chose this gif because that's how I imagine Dream to look like while sulking.

You’re standing inside Fiddler’s green, breathing in the crisp air, and can’t help but jump in excitement. This place is a marvel. You’ve always loved nature, but as life has it, you don’t always find the time to walk through forests, climb on mountains, or swim through the sea.

Fortunately for you, Fiddler’s green is the answer to all your dreams. The endless green glades and lush forests are practically begging you to explore them.

You’re ready, your backpack filled with everything you need. You know that you could dream yourself right into the heart of this wondrous place, find the best sites in the blink of an eye, but where would be the fun in that?

You’re going to map out this place, old-school. If one dream is not enough, you’ll simply continue in the next. Nothing and nobody is going to stop you.

Setting one foot in front of the other, you begin your adventure. The birdsong sounds like the finest music to you, and as you wander through into a beautiful meadow, you let out a squeal. You are living the dream.

Lord Morpheus controls the Dreaming, but what cannot be forgotten is that it is also a part of him. Lucienne remembers how the proud palace grew to become a desolate ruin, reflecting the damage their Lord’s absence had caused.

The library is brimming with life, and each tome and volume makes her heart soar. As its librarian, she feels a deep calm and serenity settle within her.

Even now as the palace shines anew and dreams and nightmares populate the realm again, Lucienne will always remember the horrible period during which she was the only who, despite being lonely and concerned, kept faith with their Lord. She will never take his presence for granted again. Even if his mood leaves to be desired.

The sky above them, usually a lovely blue, is now a myriad of grey shades, the color of an oncoming storm. But as she watches Lord Morpheus rebuke a nightmare for leaving their designated place, his expression thunderous, Lucienne wonders if the storm might be already here.

Lucienne hopes that you will return swiftly.

_______________________________

Matthew is circling above the throne room, looking for a comfortable spot to land. He is definitely getting the hang of this raven-thing. What else can you do when you wake up with feathers and claws, and tasked to help and watch over the world’s moodiest immortal?

Matthew would rather glue his beak shut than tell him that in person. The boss has a lot of responsibilities and duties, so he can have a cranky moment or two. Now that the boss has reclaimed his power and things have settled down, Matthew actually enjoys his job; then again, anything beats going to literal hell.

Besides, the boss is not so bad. He tries to listen, to take other people into consideration. Meeting you has helped, and right now he and every soul – real or dreamy – wishes for your return. Matthew is glad that he can just take a break and fly into the waking world to escape the gloom that follows the King of dreams. More like king of sulking.

Just in that moment, the boss looks up, and his dark glare is enough to send Matthew soaring towards the sky. It’s settled: Matthew won’t come back until you have returned.

_________________________________

The roaring of water is getting is getting louder, and you can’t wait. You’ve been following this small stream for what feels to be ages, and you feel it in your bones that it will pay off. The water is so refreshingly cool, it is a pleasure to drink, but you want to finally swim in it.

Your effort and perseverance are rewarded as the forest thins out, with only a few trees framing the wonderful waterfall and azure lake. The view is breathtaking, with birds flying over the thundering masses of water.

“This is the best!” you scream as you race towards the azure water, and for a moment you hear an old man’s chuckle inside your mind. As you come closer, you think you see a blur of black and gold at the edge of your vision.

“I am so happy that I got to do this alone.” Was that mean? Maybe just a little. Will you regret this? Hopefully not. But you had told Morpheus that you wanted, no, that you needed this to be a solo adventure.

You feel your clothes turn into a swimsuit as you run towards the lake, giggling all the way.

______________________________

Merv knows the palace in and out. As a janitor, he could walk through this place blindly, which is why it doesn’t bother him that the light seems to dim inside the palace.

What worries him is how dutiful dreams and nightmares he has known for ages suddenly start to quiver like mortal children.

The boss has returned, pacing around in front of his throne like a caged tiger, and boy, he looks like a nightmare himself, all dark and broody.

Merv hopes that your trip will be over soon.

___________________________

“I am back,” you call out, more softly than you initially wanted to. You still feel a little bad for dismissing Morpheus like that, especially since your trip was longer than anticipated.

“Hello?” The throne room is eerily quiet, and you scurry past some dreams. One of them almost looks like they wanted to give you a hug, but then opted for a bow. Odd.

It took some time, but you’ve become better at controlling yourself inside the Dreaming. Right now, you feel just the right mix between spent and serene, right when you stand on top of a mountain after a long hike.

You walk towards your room, not even bothering to close the door, and drop down on your bed. You’re going to stay here or a while. This bed is your favorite place right now.

“My love.” Despite your exhaustion, you roll around in your bed to see Morpheus leaning against the door frame. He’s giving you one of his precious, soft smiles, and you feel your heart flutter.

“I have missed you,” you admit quietly and watch as he advances towards your bed, the mattress dipping as he’s lying down next to you.

“I have missed you too.” He gently cards his hand through your hair, and you close your eyes, savoring the heavenly moment. This here feels like a dream within a dream, and you hope he continues forever. Way too soon he stops, and you look at him with an expectant pout.

“Your turn.” You start moving your fingers through his silky hair in return, a proud grin on your face as he starts to hum. Carefully, your movements become slower until they stop.

“We are not finished.” He turns his back to you, rolling his shoulders once, and you roll your eyes dramatically at him in fond chagrin. You glide your fingers down the shell of his ears, before applying the right amount of pressure to massage his neck. Your hands roam over his shoulders, idly drawing patterns. You press one quick kiss at the top of his spine, signaling him that you’ve finished.

Apparently, you’re not done, because Morpheus captures your hands with his, his eyes half-lidded as he blinks at you. A heartbeat later, a black cat with golden eyes has taken his place, rubbing its head against your palm.

“Well, you’re awfully needy today, Lord Meowpheus,” you tease, only for him to playfully nibble at your fingers. You giggle as you sit up, waiting for Morpheus to find a comfortable position on your lap. As you let your fingers glide through his soft fur, you listen to his low purr while telling him about all the be wonders you have seen on your journey. A flower crown is still adorning your head, a souvenir from an extraordinary adventure.

“I would like to accompany you on your next journey, if I may,” Morpheus asks, his voice deep and comforting like dark chocolate, and you scratch his favorite spot underneath his chin.

“Hmm, let me think about it.” You try to keep your face impassive, one hand holding your chin in thought. A minute passes as you hum contemplatively, then another. You feel sharp claws pinch your thighs, neither painful nor drawing blood, but enough to let you know about the cat’s displeasure. You let out a soft scoff and lean down to press a kiss between his ears, and Morpheus starts purring again.

“I would love it.” Now that you’ve explored Fiddler’s green, you can’t wait to experience it with Morpheus by your side.

“I am looking forward to it.” Morpheus moves, exposing his belly, and you continue your ministration in comfortable silence.

“Of course, you would have to keep up. I am a good, fast wanderer.” You can’t help but tease him again, feeling your lips quirk into a smirk. Meowpheus stands up suddenly, arching his back, an in a blink of an eye, Morpheus is lying next to you, rolled to one side, his head propped on his hand.

“I shall hurry then. If necessary, I will chase you.” His voice is deliciously low, and you see a flash of hunger in his fathomless eyes. You bite your lip, feeling a flush of heat at the memory of Meowpheus chasing mouse-you. That certainly had been an experience, to say the least.

“Challenge accepted.” What mouse can claim that she tamed a cat? As Morpheus leans down to press his lips and his body against yours, making every inch of you tingle with molten satisfaction, you realize that you might want to revise that statement.

#the sandman #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #dream x reader #sandman x reader #my writing #my sandman fics #lord meowpheus

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forcefully-awoken · 4 years ago

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this was commissioned by @bokutobabie who is apparently me as we share the same kinks and tiktok fyps

wc 1.6k

cw for uhhh lovey doves things, cream pies, dilf zeke pls just tell me

Zeke takes pride in all the ways he’s better than his father.

He was never abusive to his children, always kind and doting. He can’t even find it in himself to be angry at how things didn’t work out with their mother. It led him to needing a babysitter for all the long nights he finds himself away, or simply locked up in his study. He might be distant, a little too wrapped up in his work, but he’s still better than Grisha. It’s all he could have ever really wanted in life.

That is, until he meets you.

You’re the babysitter, and fuck if that cliche doesn’t burn in his chest sometimes. He’s tried so hard his whole life to be a better man, to be the best man he can be. And then you saunter into his life, all wide-eyed and innocent, practically begging to be corrupted by him. It’s like something out of a dream, out of some terribly cliche porn. Worse yet is when he does finally get you into bed, it doesn’t scrub the need for you from his system. He finds himself craving you more, inviting you over for whole weekends while the kids are away.

It’s how he wakes up one morning, to see you laying in bed next to him, and realizes he’s in love.

The realization overwhelms him, creeps up into his chest, and makes a home there. It crashes into him, one beat after another until he gives in to the urge to wrap himself around you. Even in your sleep, you move with him, wrapping your arms around him as he settles his head onto your chest. He inhales your scent, loses himself in it. You’re so warm underneath him, so malleable, with curves he can (and had) gotten lost in.

“I think I love you,” He mumbles the words into your skin, hoping his confession goes unnoticed. His hopes die when he hears your sharp inhale of breath, and when you tense under him he begins the plan to move out of the country just to avoid you.

“Well,” You start, voice coming out breathy, but your body begins to relax, “That’s good. Because I know I love you.”

He’s on you in less than a heartbeat.

“Say it again,” He insists between kisses, “Please.” You laugh, and he wonders if this is how Icarus felt flying close to the sun.

“I love you,” You repeat, taking his face between your hands to lock eyes with him.

“Fuck,” He breathes the blasphemous word into the heaven you’ve created, “Please let me fuck you.” You don’t respond verbally, but your legs spread just enough for him to settle in between them. Your eyes dart away when he tries to tug your shirt up, his heart stops and then shatters inside his chest.

“Let me see you,” It’s a plea, he’s begging already, but it’s worth it for the way he can feel your skin heat up beneath him. You meet his eyes briefly, before your shirt is pulled over your head and tossed to the side. He takes a selfish moment to stare at you, though he knows he makes you uncomfortable. He can’t get used to seeing you spread out for him; it makes him wonder what he did in a past life to get so lucky.

He only takes that moment though, before descending on you.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, large hand coming up to cup your breast as he does. It’s hard for him to tell you how he feels, hard for you to hear it sometimes. He’s ravenous for you, consumed with the need to prove his words with actions. His teeth come forward to catch the bud in between them, rolling it around until you’re whining under him. He repeats the motion on your other, he wants you desperate, he wants you needy.

He wants you to beg.

“Please!” Your resolve folds like a chair, as soon as his fingers ghost over the apex of your thighs, “I need it!” Zeke chuckles against your chest, leaving behind another sore spot as he sucks at it.

“And what, exactly, does my little girl need?” His voice is low, full of heat, a promise flirting around the edges of it. “Use your words now, I know you can.”

“I want your- your tongue on me,” Your voice is little more than a whisper but it’s music to his ears. His body slides further down, settling himself between your already shaking legs. He taps your hip to wiggle your underwear off of you and then his mouth is on you. You’re already wet, the slightly tangy taste of you flooding his mouth. His tongue circles your clit just to hear you gasp and he thinks-

I could get used to this.

He doesn’t have long to ruminate on the thought, not when your fingers tangle in his hair and he can hear your whispered pleas for more, right there, more Daddy, please. Zeke feels his own hips grind down into the bed, desperately seeking out any friction they can find. His fingers prod at your entrance, sliding in with little resistance with how wet you are. God, it never ceases to amaze him how much you want him, how plainly attracted you are to him. He moans against your cunt, the vibrations making you cry out.

Zeke always been good with his hands, and this is no different. He finds your sweet spot with practiced ease, targets it with sure and steady finger tips. He can hear you babbling above him now, the mix of stimulation between his confession and his fingers driving you steadily mad.

“Zeke!” Your fingers tighten painfully in his hair when you cum, but it’s worth it. Your cunt gushes for him, practically blossoming in front of his eyes and he thinks that if he doesn’t get inside of you in the next few seconds he might actually die. He guides you down from your first high and sheds his pants as quickly as he can without getting tangled in them.

His hands curl around your ankles now, pulling them up up up until they’re around his neck. Zeke wishes he had a camera to take a picture of you like this. You already look well and truly fucked, despite his cock simply rubbing up against your folds now.

“Don’t tease me,” He thinks your voice might hold some annoyance if not for the way your hips are canting upwards, trying to get him to slide into you. “It’s not very nice for a man of your advanced age.” Brat.

“Little girls like you shouldn’t speak out of turn,” His voice is teasing, the tip of his cock already pressing into you. One sharp jerk of his hips and he’s bottomed out, your hands scrambling to grab at the sheets. “That’s my girl, hm? So sweet for me.”

“Only for you,” You parrot back, eyes shining with tears. It makes his heart swell in his chest and he manages to lean forward, pressing your knees further down and his cock somehow deeper just to capture your lips in a surprisingly sweet kiss. Only once he feels you relax completely does he pull away, settling back so he can watch where your bodies are connected.

“My perfect little girl,” Zeke coos out, delighting in the way you come alive under the praise, “You take me so well, make me feel so good.” He can see your mouth open and close, struggling to form a reply when his hand drops down to rub a circle around your clit with his thumb. He barely touches it, leaving little glancing blows but it’s enough to have you tightening around him so much he can hardly move.

His hips never stop the slow and steady pace he’s started though. He may not be able to pound away at you like he wants to, like he used to be able to do when he was younger but this, he’s found, is better. He gets to stroke his cock through you, slowly building up the pleasure he knows grows like a knot in your stomach just to unravel it with a few simple moves of his fingers. Zeke loves the way he gets to enjoy this, enjoy you, and he can’t help but tell you so.

“You’re squeezing my cock so tightly, am I really that good to you?” A rhetorical question laced with only the barest hint of his latent anxieties. You can’t find your voice to respond, too lost in moaning for him but your pussy flutters around him and he thinks that’s answer enough. “You know I love you, don’t you sweet girl?”

This, it seems, is too much to handle for you. Your back arches off the bed as your mouth drops open into a perfect circle. He does have to stop moving now, settling for pressing deep inside of you just to feel the contractions of your pussy. The feeling of it is what pushes him over the edge, spilling his cum deep within you. He holds himself there for as long as he can, content to simply watch the return to normal. When his cock is too soft to stay inside of you only then does he pull out. Both of you hiss as the sensitivity but soon enough he finds you in his arms again, pressed as tightly as you can.

“Did you mean it?” He almost wants to laugh at your question- it’s a bit late now to worry over his words isn’t it?

“Of course I meant it,” He comforts you nonetheless, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I love you.” You're silent for a few moments, and he swears he can actually hear you thinking before-

“You should meet my parents then.”

#cw daddy kink #cw unprotected sex #zeke and related debauchery you know #it’s just being in love with dilf zeke ok #zeke x reader #zeke jaeger x reader

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sunrisefairy · 4 years ago

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Secret moments

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader Summary: Sirius and reader are dating in secret and reader has had enough. Warning: just a big of angst, mentions of sex (blink and you’ll miss it), swearing, mention of alcohol.

A/N: for @theweasleyslut writing challenge. Based off the prompts “There’s people here” “I know”

taglist: if your name is crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut @anxiousblanketqueen @accioweaslcy @widowdays @inglourious-imagines @garbdump @star-sunshine-sage @weelittleweasley @a-dusty-emerald @starlightkell @omghufflepuff @weasleyprincess @j-amespotter @gryffindorgirl @siriusbarnesslut @joytyce397 @layaaaa @thegirlinthelibrary @ch0colatefr0gs @weasleyyy @amourtentiaa @kaslupin

To be added to the taglist click here

A volcano. You can feel it; in the pit of your stomach, angrily bubbling and ready to erupt, to destroy whatever is in its path and right now that’s yours and Sirius’ relationship. If that’s what you can even call it. You and Sirius had been friends ever since first year when you charmed his quill to squirt ink on his robes whenever he picked it up. Young Sirius was equal parts embarrassed and stunned when he locked eyes with the pretty young witch sat at the front of the classroom who shot a smirk and a cheeky wink his way. To this day Sirius doesn’t think he’s blushed as hard as he did in that moment. Almost instantly you seamlessly slipped you way into a tight knitted friendship with Sirius and the rest of the marauders, the 5 of you hardly to be found separately. You seemed to gravitate towards the raven-haired boy the most though, Sirius rapidly became your best friend and the two of you were joined at the hip.

About 4 months ago, you and Sirius crossed the line from best friends to something more when you shared a heated kiss after a late-night study session. The two of you promised it was a one-time thing… it wasn’t. Months of sneaking around, stolen kisses behind closed doors, quick fucks between classes and private dates when the rest of the marauders had detentions. Your secret relationship with Sirius started off perfectly, neither of you wanted the rest of the world to know, you were content with this just being something you and Sirius shared in private but that was 4 months ago. And right now you were over it, over having to watch girls and boys flirt with Sirius right in front of you, over making up excuses as to why you don’t want to swap saliva with the tall Ravenclaw James tried to set you up with, over being Sirius private girlfriend.

Which led to this moment right now, in your dorm room, fighting. Your blood was boiling and pumping rapidly inside your veins after having to witness Sirius decline another date from a pretty Hufflepuff. The air felt thick and heavy as your voices raised higher and got louder, you could only hope your conversation couldn’t be heard from the common room below.

“Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you don’t want to tell anyone about us?” the words jab at Sirius’ heart strings almost hard enough to make him stand down and wrap his arms around your smaller frame and whisper how much he cares for you. But his emotions have the better of him and Sirius Black isn’t one to back down.

He scoffs, masking the sharp pain stabbing his chest whenever he sees you upset and the knife in his heart twists knowing he’s the one causing your pain, “of course not! Sorry for not wanting to parade my girlfriend around like a piece of meat.” His voice is thick with sarcasm.

“Oh yes I forgot,” you glare harshly at the boy in front of you, “clearly my memory has failed me because you definitely did not like parading Julianne Sommers around when you were dating her in 4th year and definitely did not suck her face off and grope the poor thing every chance you got. And don’t even get my started on Jonathon Michaels in 5th year, how that boy didn’t pass out from lack of oxygen is beyond me because you liked to make it very clear the two of you were dating. Don’t give me that bullshit excuse Sirius because I know it’s not true. You had no problem letting the world know you were dating them, so what’s so different about me?” Your chest feels heavy and you’re tired; tired of this, tired of playing pretend.

Sirius knows very well the true reason why he wants to keep your relationship a secret and it isn’t because he’s ashamed of you or scared of the friendly teasing James, Remus and Peter will be sure to send your way. It kills him to see other blokes talk about how fit you are and whenever he sees you, he just wants to walk right up and cup your cheeks and kiss you so deeply everyone knows you’re taken. But the truth is, he’s frightened. He’s frightened because he loves you so fucking much and he’s never loved anyone like this. He never thought of himself as a coward. Sirius gladly punched Samuel Stevens (who is twice Sirius’ size) in the nose after he pinched your arse in 5th year, he’s never once backed down from a fight when someone is teasing Remus and never fails to stand up for Peter and will always stand by James’ side. But ‘brave’ Sirius Black is scared of loving you, in particular Sirius is scared of everyone knowing he loves you. Sirius Black is a coward because he’s terrified that if people and merlin forbid you, know about his love then that will destroy the bubble the two of you have created. And if staying in this private bubble and keeping your relationship a secret is how he can keep everything together then he’ll gladly do it. Because he can’t lose you, he can’t risk you leaving him, the thought of everyone knowing petrifies him. He’s worried that it will taint your relationship.

Sirius chokes on his words, because I love you, he wants to say but he struggles to get them out, in fear of ruining what you have but it seems he’s doing that anyway when you leave the room and slam the door on your way out.

….

“Oh my ghosts! You look stunning babes,” Marlene wolf whistles and grips your shoulders to spin you around wanting to see your whole outfit. “You trying to impress anyone tonight hun?”

You have to crane your neck to hear her over the music pumping around the common room. “Nope, no one to impress.” You mutter sadly. It’s been over a week since your fight with Sirius. Neither of you have made the effort to apologise, although Sirius might have tried once or twice but you refused to be alone with the boy. You were angry and pissed and needed Sirius to realise that if he wanted you then it was all or nothing. You were tired of hiding.

“Well, who needs stupid boys anyway when we have each other!” Marlene declares dragging you to the drinks table to pour you some of the questionable looking punch.

Most of the night is spent dancing on the makeshift dance floor with Marlene, Mary and Lily; hips swinging and hair flowing, seemingly not a care in the world. It was just the distraction you were after, although you knew eventually you were going to see Sirius, given it was a party in the Gryffindor common room you couldn’t expect Sirius not to make an appearance.

“Nice to see the boys finally showed up,” Mary comments nodding her head in the direction of the stairs which lead up to the boy’s dorm. The 4 marauders come clambering down the stairs clearly ready to have some fun. Your breath hitches in your throat when you see Sirius, clad in a dark button up which he might as well not even bother wearing with how many buttons he has undone, half his muscly, toned chest on display. His dark locks fall lusciously against his shoulders and if you look closely you can spot some black eyeliner that makes his piercing grey eyes pop even more, he looks utterly gorgeous and your heart plummets into your stomach at the realisation of spending the reminder of the night watching him flirt with people that aren’t you.

You don’t even notice Sirius push his way through the crowd towards you until he’s towering over you. He’s standing so close that you can smell his aftershave, it’s both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. After a beat of the two of you staring at each other with no words you realise how close you are, way too close to convince everyone that you’re just friends. However, after the fight you aren’t 100% sure if you and Sirius are even still dating. Just as you’re about to take a step back from Sirius, he brings his hands to cup your face forcing you to look at him. Your eyes widen as you stare up at Sirius and notice the familiar glint in his eyes, you know that look and any hints of uncertainty were squashed when you catch the way his eyes flicker down to your lips. It feels as it time slows to a complete stop when Sirius leans down clearly trying to meet your soft lips.

Your hands fly up and press firmly against his hard chest, halting his movements. You frantically look around the room and notice multiple pairs of eyes watching you. “What are you doing? There’s people here y’know?” You question, Sirius must clearly be off his face, too intoxicated to register the room full of people watching your every movements. Surely, he pregamed a little too hard and fully believes it’s just the two of you in the common room because why else would he be standing here with his large hands caressing your face so gently?

Sirius smirks, little did you know there wasn’t one drop of alcohol in his body, however he was drunk on you. “I know,” he whispers so quietly it was almost swept away before connecting your lips together in a deep kiss.

Sirius’ lips have always felt like home; warm and soft and never failed to make butterflies and fireworks explode in your tummy, his kisses always made your head dizzy and knees weak. You couldn’t believe you had gone a full week without them, without him. The music around you fades into nothing, all you can focus on his Sirius lips and tongue and how they dance against yours and his hands as they travel from your face down to your hips, clinging onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. You let your own hands get tangled in his curly hair, determined to show him you don’t want him to go anywhere. Ever.

You find yourself chasing his lips when he finally pulls away, breathlessly. He chuckles at your movements and pecks your lips lightly twice before opening his eyes, he finds you already staring up at him confusion smeared all across your features.

“M’sorry for being a dick, I care for you so much baby and I was shit scared that if everyone knew about us then somehow it would ruin what we had and I’m terrified of losing you. But I realise now that I was throwing it all away by keeping you a secret, so I’m not going to do that anymore.” Sirius then looks over your head and nods at James. “Now Prongs,” James turns off the record player which causes a few people to groan at the loss of music. James gives Sirius a cheesy grin, you see Remus and Peter standing beside the bespectacled boy all 3 of them giving Sirius enthusiastic thumbs up.

You turn your attention back to Sirius who is now standing on top of the nearby table. You and the rest of the Gryffindor house all gawk the boy, uncertain what is about to happen.

“My darling Y/N, I want everyone here tonight to bear witness to what I’m about to say,” Sirius has always been dramatic and now was no expection. He clears his throat, raising his voice to ensure everyone can hear him, “Y/N L/N you are my everything and I love you. I’m sorry for being a complete tosser but it would make me a very, very happy man if you agree to be my girlfriend? Again.”

The smile that consumes your face is so big and bright it hurts your cheeks, you know you look like a proper sap but you don’t care, “get down here you big idiot so I can kiss you.” You motion for Sirius to join you again.

It was Sirius’ turn to grin as he jumps down from the table and makes his way towards you, “is that a yes then?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him, wrapping your arms around his waist, Sirius immediately wraps his around your shoulders giving them a light squeeze, “of course Sirius.”

Sirius doesn’t think his smile could get any bigger, well that was until he heard you mumble 4 words into his chest. He knew in that moment he was a complete goner for you. I love you too.

#theweasleyslut’s bday wc #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black imagine #sirius black imagines #sirius black angst #sirius black fluff #elles recs

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foreverandadaydarling · 2 years ago

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Camellia season.

When I saw you, I fell in love... and you smiled because you knew.

William Shakespeare.

Spring 1962

Searching for the fabric was always a difficult task when it came to new projets and even more when the most dreamy blue coat was her main goal for the upcoming winter season.

Being a well-trained dressmaker allowed the young Helene Edevane the luxury of buying a yard of dark blue wool cloth that would make her dreams come true. Living with only a grandmother, she is used to working hard for what she wants. Even when her beloved and caring grandma bestowed her with what her heart desires, Helene is a hard-working girl with a calm and shy nature that accomplishes her strange beauty.

True to be told, the little girl only talks when necessary but remains polite with everyone. That shyness, a consequence of tragically losing her parents at the tender age of two, had marked her. Helene is an observant girl, with a slight awareness of everything around her and a little untrust of every single human (gifted by her grandmother) that is overshadowed by her natural kindness and good heart.

A vision in her own way, a few fellow neighbours that know her normal schuedle watch her walk to and from work day after day, dressed in simple but elegant coats and beautiful and lovely dresses or suits, she often catches people staring at her, whispering about how delicate the lace in her shirts is, how intricate the patterns on her sweaters are or how the little buttons in her sleeves shine like pearls. Every single season they often spot a new item made and they covet it with unrestrained force. She knows that, and even when malicious words could be spoken by jealous mothers, Helene always smiles at them and keeps the talk cordial.

But jealous mothers and daughters couldn't do anything about her charm and beauty and often malicious words of hate were bestowed on her, That poor orphan girl, how could she afford those clothes?

While these talks occurred, her beauty and strangeness had made her popular among young and older men who watched her walk quietly and alone, view to the floor, long black hair flying, white legs only visible from below her knees and delicate velvet hands clutching her bag.

One afternoon, unusually for her scheudle, on her way from work she came through a new record store and decided that it was better to have a look now than wait for another day when the weather would be sunny and warm and not rainy and a little bit windy like that day.

Strange as destiny works with its magical and mysterious ways, that same day a young John Baldwin was looking through the jazz records at the back of the store when he heard the soft steps of someone approaching. It wasn't until a few minutes later that he turned to his right and saw her.

If someone asked him if he could forget that moment he would be lying if he said yes.

Standing just a few steps from him, he saw what he thought was a vision. The most precious girl he had ever seen was here, wearing a soft baby-blue coat with a white collar and raven black hair carefully arranged in soft waves that he thought he was dreaming of.

Her profile was almost perfect, dark layers marked grey eyes, soft and delicate nose and tender and rosy lips that were enchanting. He only found one little imperfection, she looked a bit too tired for what he thought was a girl his age.

Maybe he had stared at her too much because she only took her eyes from the vinyl for a second to look at him and drawing a small smile on her lips she continued to look.

He was left speechless and thunderstruck watching her like a lovesick fool until she disappeared through the front door.

After that day, he went from time to time to the store silently praying that he could see her and maybe just maybe he could have enough courage to, at least, talk to her.

You fool... you couldn't have a chance to stand near her. He told himself after he saw her a few times until autumn was very much almost over. His shyness and a little nervousness were the death of him, how could a girl as pretty as her give a thought about him?

Desperation kept him awake long nights, thinking that she may already be of someone else or maybe love someone better than him, imagines of watching her with her sweetheart made his blood turn cold but headstrong as he was the sunrise always found him with renewed hope and the strong thought that all girls must be placed in a second place in comparison with her. Forgotten was Lisa, Mandy or Sarah, buried in that place of his head he never went back. Only thoughts of her, his only companions in moments of solace and turmoil.

What he didn't know was that she had watched him and had thought that he was quite handsome but being a shy girl she didn't have the courage to speak to him. Even more, if her grandmother found out that she had spoken to a boy she didn't know it was sure to be her last day on this earth.

So time started to run and each time they saw each other the longing to know each other, to talk to each other grew until one day the chance fell out of heaven.

It had been a cold, windy and white December day, just only just a few days before Christmas Eve when the miracle happened. John, again, was in the store after playing with a band, not looking for anything in particular when the soft steps could be heard. Immediatly he turned, anxious to catch a glimpse of her when he was surprised to collide with someone.

Ashamed of his behaviour when he realized he had thrown all the belongings of his victim, he started to help to collect them from the floor. I'm really sorry, I really am. He started but as soon as he wanted to say anything more a soft and melodic voice cut off his ramblings.

Don't worry, he heard and when he looked up he found the face of the girl he had dreamed about so long. This can happen to anyone. Just... Could you please give me those scissors? She said and smiled softly at him, her grey eyes sparkling with kindness.

He thought she couldn't be more beautiful than what he had imagined but even his wildest dreams couldn't be truthful with the view of her.

I'm really sorry, here you have... He said looking at the pale hands of the girl and after a few minutes, they were up looking shyly at each other until he caught his forgotten bass that was resting on one of the counters.

You are a musician... What do you play? She asked while carrying her bag nervously. I play bass guitar and organ too... Her eyes widened at hearing that and smiling she said, That's great... Well, I suppose that was really nice to meet you...

With a nod and a waving hand, she started to turn away her calm pose only given away just for her rosy cheeks. Won't you tell me your name? He said with renewed forwardness and a little terror of losing what could be his only chance to meet her.

She only turned and with a sweetness, he would have to grow to know, only replied the name he thought belonged to an angel...

Helene.

Tag List: @jonesyjonesyjonesy (If you would like to be added just tell me).

Main Post: here.

Thanks for reading!

#60s #john paul jones #led zeppelin #jonesy #john paul jones x fem #fanfic #70s #helene and jonesy #helene #robert plant #jimmy page #camellia season

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theheadgirl · 2 years ago

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31 Days of Fear, hosted by @hp-fearfest

Day 20: Omen (read on AO3 here)

CW: blood

"That feels like a bad sign," Audrey says, stopping short. "Love, did the agent mention that the rental was in a graveyard?"

"She said that it had … quiet…neighbors," Percy says, in the falling tones of someone who's just realized that perhaps he should have asked a few more questions about the suspiciously low-priced vacation rental, and also learn how to recognize a joke.

"I'm all for going back into town," Oliver says. He's got the trunk open to get their bags out, but his hand is on the handle to pull it shut. "I saw an inn, I think; probably not haunted."

"No, it'll be fine," Percy says bracingly. "If someone was going to come here and make an army of Inferi, we'd have plenty of notice to vacate." He reaches into the trunk and grabs his messenger bag and suitcase, and, slinging the bag over his shoulder, starts marching towards the house like a declaration.

"Could leave him here," Audrey says in an undertone to Oliver.

"Tempting," Oliver says, but gets his backpack out, and then Audrey's suitcase.

"If we get haunted to death, I'm blaming you."

As Percy comes to the front door, a raven flutters down and lands on the gravestone nearest the door. It tilts its head, eyeing him beadily, then lets out a single, almost derisive caw.

"Hello to you, too," he says, pulling the keys from the pocket of his jeans and unlocking the front door. "It seems we'll be neighbors."

"Perce, are you really chatting with the raven on a tombstone?" Oliver says. "Maybe we do leave him here, Addie, he's gone native."

"My Patronus is a raven," Percy says. "They're not omens of doom. Do you think someone's going to die every time I cast my Patronus?"

"Maybe," Oliver replies. Percy rolls his eyes and pushes the front door open. Audrey peers over his shoulder, holding her breath. She's not sure what to expect - a mouldering ruin, covered in cobwebs? Cockroaches skittering away in the dim October sunlight? A ghostly butler, face crooked in a skeletal grimace?

Mostly, there are collectable porcelain plates. To the last, they are elaborately decorated, and most of them are dedicated to various members of the royal family.

"Oh," she says, then turns to Percy. "Did the agent also mention that Prince Andrew would be here?'

"It's very nice in here," Percy says, in that same, determined tone. "It feels a bit like the Burrow." Still resolutely ignoring the giggles behind him, he goes further in, and Oliver and Audrey follow.

The clock over the fireplace strikes one, two, three deep gongs, and Percy starts awake. Poor sleep isn't unusual for him, and he's about to blame a nightmare and try to go back to sleep, but he realizes three things.

One, they fell asleep on the couch - Audrey had wanted to watch a spooky movie, and the day of driving must have been more tiring than expected.

Two, he doesn't remember having a nightmare, and he always remembers his nightmares.

Three, they're not alone in the room.

The raven he'd greeted earlier is perched on the back of the chair across from them, watching them.

"What are you doing here?" he says, or tries to, but he can't move his mouth and the words stick in his throat. He tries again, but all he can manage is a soft huff of air.

It lets out another sharp caw. Just as before, it almost sounds like it's laughing at him. It spreads its wings (and spreads and spreads, they're too big, how are they so big) and hops off the chair, flying to the couch.

It lands on Audrey's knee, examines her, tilting its head. From there, it perches on his leg, and for a long moment, they make eye contact. It looks away first, then hops to Oliver. Finally, it lets out a caw that sounds pleased, and leans over to nip at his wrist, drawing a tiny spot of blood that drips down the side of his hand. Then it spreads its wings again, spreads spreads spreads, and the impossibly large wings block his eyes and the world fades to black.

#hpfearfest2022 #31daysoffearfest #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #percy weasley #audrey weasley #oliver wood #percy/oliver #percy/audrey #percy/oliver/audrey #cw: blood

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thestorycfus · 3 years ago

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Behind these two white highway lines

Pairing: Erik Lehnsherr x gn!Reader

Summary: Erik and Reader always kept some distance, but they get a better glimpse of each other when they are tasked with bringing a new mutant to the school. The teen doesn’t like being a mutant, but Erik and Reader help him see the bright side of his identity.

Warnings and notes: This is a very self indulgent and obvious metaphor to how lonely it feels to be ‘the only one different’, and it’s not nearly as well written as it should be. There’s mentions of family discrimination, feelings of isolation, self-doubt and a journey to acceptance. But just... Not well written, for real. Other X-Men (First Class generation) are mentioned.

Word count: 2,641

Masterlist

Erik Lehnsherr was quite a mystery to you. He was close to Charles and Raven, and he was great at training with the kids, but you had never even had a full conversation with Erik. Even though you had gotten to know everyone else in the Institute after it became your home, the metal bender preferred to keep his distance. He wasn’t rude, just… Private, it seemed. Maybe he had something against you, or maybe he was like that with every new mutant. You wouldn’t be able to tell. The guy made you a little nervous, to be honest. He was serious, powerful, strong-willed and, of course, irritatingly handsome too. If he didn’t want to be bothered, the best you could do was let him be.

For months, that was exactly what you did. You kept teaching your classes and working on your powers, while Erik kept doing whatever Erik does. You rarely talked to each other, despite living in the same house. The Institute was always full and always busy, so there was no need for you two to exchange more than a few words, nothing beyond small talk or work-related communication. You still wondered what Lehnsherr was all about, for a while, the quiet balance worked.

The equilibrium started to crack when Charles gave you a mission. He had detected a new mutant, a teenager with human parents living out of state, and it seemed like the kid was having trouble controlling his abilities. The parents were more than grateful when Professor Xavier called and offered to help their son understand and use his power, but they couldn’t drive him to the institute. With everyone else busy, Charles chose you and Erik to bring the kid to the school.

It sounded like a simple task, but you felt nervous all the same. The road trip was a little awkward, but overall uneventful, with you driving there so Lehnsherr could drive on the way back. As far as you were told, the kid would be ready to go as soon as you arrived. You both got out of the car and Erik rang the doorbell, always keeping a safe distance from you, as if you were about to bite him. You tried not to role your eyes, focusing on your most welcoming smile – very important when meeting a student and their family. The door opened to reveal a fidgety mother, who looked at you and Erik as if you were a miracle.

“I am so glad you are here, we don’t know what else to do. I’m Christine Johnson. Please, come in.”

At the same time, you heard shouting coming from upstairs, with a distinct scream of ‘I am NOT going to that freak show’, followed by the bang of a door closing. You and Erik exchanged a look before introducing yourselves and following Mrs. Johnson to the living room. Nobody had informed the school of it, but you were more than familiar with that sort of conflict. Being a mutant wasn’t always easy, and being a mutant teenager with a bunch of human friends and relatives was a mess, most of the times.

“Please, make yourselves at home. I will go get Jay, we will be ready in just a minute.” Mrs. Johnson said, looking towards the stairs and back to you and Erik. Before she could leave, you took a step forward.

“Maybe we could talk to him first? He might feel more comfortable if he gets to know us a bit before leaving.” You offered, only then remembering to give Erik a glance. He nodded discreetly, ready to follow you. There was a tension on him that you weren’t used to witnessing, but you couldn’t wonder about that now. This kid needed guidance and support, and that was the reason you went to the Institute in the first place. Mutant kids deserved better than what the world usually offered them, and the X mansion was their best opportunity to have that.

“That is very kind of you, Professor, if you don’t mind trying… Come upstairs, he’s in his room.”

You both followed Mrs. Johnson to the hall of the second floor, where her husband was pilling up bags. She called him to help with the something in the kitchen and they practically run downstairs, in an obvious attempt to not be a part of the conversation. You took a deep breath, not wishing to lose your temper, but the way the parents seemed desperate to get rid of the problem made your blood boil. To your surprise, it was Erik who knocked on the bedroom door.

“Hello, Jay. I’m Erik. I am here with my colleague Y/N. We would like to talk to you for a minute, if that is okay.”

There was silence for a moment. Erik beside you in the narrow hall, more serious than you had ever seen him. You watched his expression get lighter when he heard the doorknob click. Jay opened the door and stared at the two strangers with childish curiosity, but quickly looked away and went back inside his room. He sat at the bed, absent mindedly playing with a ring of old keys in his hands.

“It’s nothing personal, but I won’t be going to your school. I already told my parents, if they want me to leave, I’ll just move in with my friend until I get a job. His parents said it’s all good. Sorry you had to drive all the way here for nothing, though.”

His tone broke your heart. You had heard it so many times before, seen so many scared kids who were tired of sticking out, terrified because the people supposed to love them the most just saw them as an issue to fix. You and Erik walked into the room together and you sat down on the floor, leaning against the bedside table. Jay’s eyes scanned you as if you were about to shoot lasers at him – and for all he knew, maybe you were – and even you were surprised when Erik followed you, sitting on the carpet too.

“Let’s start from the beginning. I’m Professor Y/N L/N and I work at the Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, which, as you might know, is home to many mutants, including myself and…” You gestured to Erik, who took your cue.

“I’m Erik Lehnsherr, also a Professor at Xavier’s and also a mutant. If you do not wish to join us, that is perfectly fine, but you could at least hear us out first. You know, to compensate for the long drive.” He opened his right hand, and Jay’s ring of keys came flying towards him, floating just above his palm.

You smiled at the way Jay stared, looking so lost, but also as if he had just been found. He looked so young, so starved for some understanding… Erik’s approach was a bit on the nose, but it was worth a try.

Since you entered the room, you had spotted the few plants that decorated the room, including a succulent on the table next to you. You reached up and grabbed it, touching the delicate flower that was just beginning to appear on top of it. At your touch, the flower grew, opening up in yellow and orange tones. Jay’s eyes went from you to Erik and back to you.

“What do you even do in there, though? I bet you’re not studying chemistry or something.”

You chuckled at that, and Erik had big grin when he answered.

“You would be surprised. Just because someone is blue, doesn’t mean they aren’t a science genius.”

“Blue as in sad or blue as in… Blue?” Jay probably sounded more invested than he intended to.

“Blue as in blue. Dr McCoy is a biochemistry expert, and he can also take down all three of us in a fight at the same time with very little effort. And he is blue, but he’s not the only one at that.” You explained, amused to see the kid look so curious.

“Actually, Hank couldn’t take me down unless the fight took place in a plastic prison, and even then it would be a close call.” Lehnsherr feigned offense, and you chuckled again. It was nice to see him being so casual and playful.

“No, it wouldn’t, but I won’t insist on that topic.” You turned back to the kid with a soft smile, while making a couple more flowers appear in the plant you were holding. “There’s a lot to discover at the school. You don’t have to stay there forever, but you could meet everyone, take a few classes and see if you like the place.”

“Sounds like all of you have everything figured out, uh?” As Jay spoke, a small flame emerged from his fingers, and he threw it from one hand to the other. “I’m not that good at keeping this under control.” There was a challenge in his eyes, as if he doubted that the school would be able to handle his abilities, even though you were used to students with powers way more complicated.

“Controlling all the metal near you isn’t as simple as it may seem. Most mutants are not in control of their powers when they first appear, but we can develop our abilities to degrees you can’t even dream of, Jay. That’s the reason Charles found the school in the first place – so all mutants can be safe and proud. I used to believe I was alone until he found me, and I was almost lost in my anger. The others allowed me to see that there is more than just one path for us.” Erik answered, making the keys fly back to their owner. Jay extinguished the flame and caught the keys midair. He remained in silence, so you continued Erik’s speech. Everything he had said really resonated with you, making you even more certain of the point you wanted to get across.

“You may make fire, but we have a guy who turns into and produces ice, a lady who can literally control the weather, some laser-shooters and a few telepaths and the list goes on. Even a seemly harmless mutation can be trouble, like when I have a nightmare and break the floor with tree roots growing out of nowhere, and the scariest powers can save all of us very often.” You felt Lehnsherr’s eyes on you, but you focused on Jay. You thought of how tiny you felt before you knew of others like you, remembering the desperation of dealing with a part of yourself that nobody around you could know, because they would never have to handle something similar. Until you were surrounded by other mutants, you were never able to allow yourself to just be.

“We know how hard it is to be the only one that is different. Pardon my language, but it royally sucks, doesn’t it? It gets lonely and terrifying, and it seems like there’s not a single person in your life that can understand. But we do. We have all been through it, one way or the other, and it gets much easier and much more fun when you have a community, if you’re willing to give us a chance.” The honesty in your words was undeniable. Even though no two mutants were the same, and each of the residents of the X Mansion had their own past and their identities, with the x gene being just one aspect of who they were, finding your community had being freeing in ways you didn’t even know you needed. There were still many barriers to face, and a lot of grief for everything that couldn’t be. It wasn’t fair, and it still hurt, but it didn’t hurt after you became more comfortable in yourself. The love you had for every mutant in the institute and the bonds you created made you see yourself in a brand new light, and you had seem the same magic happen to many others. You hoped it would happen to Jay too.

“I’m not just talking of making the burden less heavy. I’m talking of honestly understanding that there isn’t a burden at all. Even if I said I was proud of myself, I wasn’t really happy to be me until I was with the others. Now, when I say I’m a mutant and proud, I mean it. I know how strong, how amazing, how brilliant we are, and I’d never change a thing. I wish the world wasn’t as tough on us, I wish we didn’t have to be strong, but kid, I’m really thankful and proud to say that we can take it, and we’re worth standing up for and celebrating.” You finally stopped talking, feeling a bit self conscious about how much you had said, but opening up was worth it if it gave Jay a better chance of experience those changes. Before you could say more, though, Erik spoke again.

“I had an entire mutant pride speech ready, but I believe Y/N spoke for us both on what really matters here. Give it a try. If the school isn’t for you, you can come back to your friend’s house with some interesting stories.” You smiled at his words, waiting for Jay’s answer.

“Will someone drive me back here if I don’t stay or do I have to find a new ride?” The kid was already getting up and collecting stuff around the room. Erik stood up and offered you his hand. You took it, standing up too and smiling at him.

“Maybe our teleport guy will be back by then. We usually take the road when we’re inviting a new student, but we’ll figure something out.” Erik replied, which gained him an impressed look from Jay.

“Of course there’s a teleport guy. You could have lead with that.” He continued gathering his belongings but, besides the plants, there wasn’t a lot more to pack. Most of the stuff was already in the bags in hall. Jay arranged most of the plants in a metal shelf so they would be easier to carry, but he shook his head when you tried to hand him the succulent in your left hand. “You keep that one. She likes you.”

You nodded, turning around to leave the room and help bring the bags to the car. Only then you noticed that you were still holding Erik’s hand. You let your hand fall, but the two of you didn’t stand so distant to each other now. All three mutants walked out of the room and divided the bags among you, with Lehnsherr showing off and making every metal object float to the front door. Once everything was in the car, Jay went to talk to his parents. There were tears and goodbyes and promises of behaving, but you and Erik stayed outside to give the family some privacy. The Johnsons might not be the best parents a mutant could get, but they were still Jay’s mom and dad, and the process would be important for him.

While you two waited, you decided to break the silence.

“Turns out we can make a good team, Lehnsherr.”

“Wait to see if the kid comes running back home when he sees Alex explode something before you start to boast.”

“Oh, shut up. Alex will be his favorite.”

“Yeah, he will. And we do make a good team.”

The conversation was cut short when the Johnsons came out of the door, with Mrs. Johnson hugging Jay. You and Erik promised to take care of him and finally got in the car. The ride back to the institute was a little less awkward and silent, even though the kid fell asleep in half an hour. You could definitely count that day as a win.

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #x men #marvel #erik lehnsherr imagine #erik lehnsherr m #marvel m #x men m #m

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genderfluid-insomniac · 3 years ago

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When They Can't Save You (main six headcanons)

Asra:

He is devastated and tries everything to get you back, he lost you once, he won't lose you again. Julian and Nadia along with Portia come over to his shop when he hasn't been seen in a while and wasn't responding to them.

They find him frantically looking through books and herbs scattered around him, eyes wide with tears brimming and bags from the lack of sleep.

They're in shock for a bit until the spot Faust slithering over to them with concerned eyes, Nadia lets Faust up her arm and onto her shoulders. Julian and Portia rush over to Asra, grabbing his arm and turning him to face them.

Tears began to fall, cascading down his face and he trembles, breaking down and dropping the herbs he’s holding. Latching himself onto the siblings, gripping their shirts with balled fists, and letting out racked sobs.

Nadia kneels down and hugs them, letting Faust move over to the magician’s shoulders and flicking her tongue at his tears. His voice breaks as he speaks up,

“I know they’re gone, they’re dead, but maybe- maybe I can bring them back. If I did it once I can do it again, I know it. This can't be it, I have to see them again!” He yells and holds onto his friends tighter.

Nadia goes to comfort him but he interrupts her, pulling out the heart-shaped emerald amulet that he gave you. Clutching it to his chest and clenching his eyes shut, broken cries escaping his mouth.

“Why?! Why did you have to do that? You weren't supposed to die! Why wasn’t it me?! It was supposed to be me not you!” He let you down. He messed up. He’ll never get to see your beautiful smile again, the way your eyes lit up when you were excited.

You. The very person that brought him life, was gone. What did he have to live for? Now that you are gone… nothing.

Nadia:

It was evening and she was on her balcony, stroking Chandra who was perched on the railing next to her and letting tears fall down her cheeks. It was one of those nights again, the nights she didn’t get sleep when she seemed to see you everywhere and give her false hope. That you had lived.

Her hand shaking and Nadia went to rub the owl's feathers when a sob racked her, breaking down. The queen collapsed on the railing letting the night air carry her cries to whoever would listen to her sorrow.

Her companion cooed and nuzzled her face before flying off and leaving her, coming back moments later with a garment that meant the world to her. A scarf that you wore when you first met her, a scarf that Asra of course let her have.

Nadia lifted her head a bit when Chandra returned and choked out another sob at the sight of your cloth, gently opening her arms as her feathered friend placed it in her hands ever so gently. Recalling all the memories that they shared and your final moments with her, never losing hope or faith that she’d help Vesuvia return to normal.

Right now she didn't care who heard her as she cried out in pain, hearing a concerned Portia knock on the door and rush in, “Your highness, I-”

She cut herself short seeing her friend's state, eyes puffy and red, desperately trying to hold herself together. Portia walked over to Nadia, tears brimming her eyes and some escaping down her face.

“It’s one of those nights?” The only response she got was a nod as the queen tightened her grasp on your scarf. “I know you miss her, we all do believe me I know, but you can’t blame yourself. It was their decision and we have to respect that-”

Cries left Portia's mouth and interrupted her but she pushed through, “even though it hurts really bad.” The ginger could finish her sentence as she embraced Nadia, joining in her cries and hoping that you would come back, knowing you couldn’t.

Nadia spoke up, “They became my reason to believe in love again. I never thought I’d fall in love after Lucio, but they restored my faith. I know they wouldn't want me to be sad but I can’t go on living without them. I don't remember how to.”

Portia:

After you’d died, Julian moved in with his sister to help her with her work and taking care of herself, given how destroyed she was after you’d left. Concerning even Nadia and Mazelinka so much that they checked in on her pretty much daily.

It was another day of work, Portia was wandering the halls and making sure everything was in shape when she passed a passage that you and she used to take often, tearing up a bit and running her hand along the entrance. Tears quietly left her eyes as she recalled all the fun you both used to have in the palace.

You never gave up on her, never doubted her, and never stopped loving her the entire time. Now you were gone and it felt like her fault like she could have done more to save you or stop you at least. Vesuvia was saved but at what cost.

Portia sobbed and dropped down against the wall, holding her heart and trying to quiet her crying but it never worked, even as weeks passed. She could never get over the loss of you.

She heard footsteps and didn’t bother to look up knowing who it was based on his frantic breathing. Her brother knelt down in front of her and held her close, breaking down with her. You’d been family to the siblings and you brought a feeling of comfort they had forgotten about.

Portia reached into her pocket and pulled out a bandana you wore in your hair that you’d given to her for her unruly red hair. Bringing it to her lips and kissing it,

“Why did it have to be you? You were loved so much! I know you’d scold me right now for being sad instead of happy for treasuring the time we had” a bittersweet laugh let her lips.

Tears continued to fall as Julian rubbed circles on her back and consoled her as long as she needed, you’d been her world. As her brother, he’d never seen Portia so happy and in love when she first introduced them to him. Laughing to himself softly how awkward the moment was when he told her that he’d broken into their shop and met them prior.

Portia whispered her words with a smile, “I treasure every moment I had with you. I do. But I can’t stop crying over you, you knew how much you meant to everyone but you still sacrificed yourself anyway. You were selfless till the end, huh?”

Julian: When you had died, Julien stopped being himself anymore and he had never blamed himself more after he lost you not once but twice. Even weeks after your death he blamed himself and kept asking Asra if there was any way to bring you back, which they both knew there wasn’t a way to but he still asked.

Most of the time you could find him at the rowdy raven completely drunk or bargaining with the bartender for another when he was refused one.

Mazelinka or Portia usually has to drag him by the neck back to the house and watch over him as he drunkenly cries while remembering all the good moments he had with you.

He also contemplates taking his life because without you he doesn't feel like he can help anyone. You got him out of getting hanged and saved his life multiple times, you always had his back.

For once he wishes he could trade his curse for you again, he would rather eat leeches every day than live without you. His self-deprecation was always bad before but now since you’re gone, he completely lost his self-confidence, thinking that he’ll never be good at anything ever again.

“Why couldn't it be me?! They did so much for me and what do I do for them in return, let them die! Because of me, they died, again, and I don’t think I can bring them back this time.”

Sorrowful cries escaped him as he fell to the floor and held your masquerade mask in his hands, tears blurring his vision. Portia crouched down beside him along with Mazelinka and wept with him, hoping for some sign that you were okay even after death.

Muriel: (Hold on to your hearts this one is gonna be rough, possibly way worse than the other ones)

Truth be told, Muriel didn’t know if life was worth living when you died. He was already broken as he saw many others he cared about die before him and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The hermit never left his house ever, even for food and water, it was Inanna that practically dragged him outside whenever he stopped eating or drinking. Feeling completely empty and worthless as your last moments continuously played on loop in his head.

Endless crying and never taking off the bright green scarf you bought for him and said matched his eyes. Only taking off to wash it and make sure it never left its pristine condition you left it in and cried whenever he had to.

You brought so much light into Muriel’s life and changed it wonderfully, the town loved him again and remembered him in a happier light, he was able to move on from his past and confront Lucio, and the best part of all, he met you.

The forest only heard Muriel’s sobs and cried with him, everything seemed dimmer when you’d died and nothing would be the same. Muriel even considered taking his own life because he had nothing left to live for but went to Asra instead and talked out all the grief he’d built up.

Inanna never left his side as he did everything he normally did before he met you, feeding his chickens, making sure the forest was in good health, and training in case anything went wrong. It was the only thing he could do, busy himself so much that he couldn’t think about the loss of his love.

The way you held his face before you passed, how your soft hands cradled and wiped his tears away. The light and love slowly fading from your eyes as you spoke your last words to him,

“You matter so much and I was so lucky to meet you. I love till the end, Muriel, never forget that.” With that, your eyes fluttered shut and your hand went limp as the giant held it in his hands.

But did he matter if you weren’t here with him? You spoke about loving him till the end and he never doubted your love but it had been the end, you had left this world. But he would never forget you, not till the day they would meet again.

Lucio:

In all honesty, he didn’t know how to feel. For years he’d been hurting the people of Vesuvia only to be brought back and having to rebuild everyone's trust but now you were gone.

He was used to watching you as a ghost, someone that couldn’t interact or communicate with you, and now it was the opposite. Lucio could only hope that you were a ghost and had to fight the doubt in his mind.

‘They passed peacefully, why would they come back? You’re just getting your hopes up for nothing.’

Even Nadia, who loathed and despised him, comforted him through tough times as she knew what it was like to lose a loved one. The others who were still a little skeptical that he was faking this started to believe him after a while.

Only someone in true grief could act like he was, Lucio wasn’t Lucio, and for once it scared everyone. For him to not be his arrogant loud extroverted self was foreign and seemed wrong. Julian and Asra often came to him and helped distract him, Asra at times coming to him and using a dagger that the old king gave them to try and contact you in the magic realm, sometimes getting messages but they were only verbal.

He only blamed himself, at least when he was a ghost he could still see you and at times you could see him (even if he made that blasted deal with the devil) it was better than this. His dogs never left his side as he roamed solemnly around the palace, letting tears fall down his cheeks and soft sobs exit his mouth.

“Why was he so obsessed with power when the only thing that mattered was in front of him? I really am foolish aren’t I, love? I hope you can’t see how much of a mess I’ve turned out to be. I miss you”

#the arcana #muriel the arcana #asra alnazar #countess nadia #the arcana lucio #portia devorak #julian devorak

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ice-cream-writes-stuff · 4 years ago

Note

I feel like twst Aurora would meet y/n by walking through the forest. Sorta like when Aurora meets Phillip in the original movie

(*Me, dancing like a duck*)

Twst Aurora/Sleeping Beauty Idea For Anybody To Read

(Song is from Hadestown, Flowers)

(Y/N) was given homework for Mr. Crewels class to find the native flowers of Twisted Wonderland. She would of gone to the botanical gardens for her research. If only it wasn't crowded with other students. So her best bet was either the mountains or the forest. The forest was the best option.

After finding a few flowers and writing them down on the note book she brought with her. Her mind wanders off to Yuu and Grim, hoping they were doing alright with finishing the assignment, if not, she could always share her notes with them.

"I wonder. I wonder... I wonder why each little bird has a someone. To sing to sweet things to. A gay little love melody."

A song starts travel through the air. Soft and sweet, gentle and wistful. It was quite simple and romantic song, the person who was singing was quite good. The song starts to end.

"I wonder, I wonder.. If my heart keeps singing. Will my song go winging. To someone who'll find me. And bring back a love song to me.."

(Y/N) sighs gently at the song, holding her book close to her chest. "Oh, that was beautiful.." She whispers, acting as if she was a maiden in love. Enchanted by the beautiful singing, (Y/N) applauds to the singer. Wherever they may be.

Carefully, (Y/N) gets up from her sitting position and pats down her casual clothes. Nothing too casual though, just a simple white ruffled off-the-shoulder smocked shirt and a (f/c) skirt that went to her ankles. The girl wanted to wear something else, but she didn't have much clothes. So this was her best bet. Hints of dirt smear at the bottom of her skirt, but she could care less.

Heading deeper into the woods. (Y/N) does her best not to trip on some trees roots and killing the urge to jump into piles of leaves. Finding the next flower was easy enough. It reminded her of a song back in her world. Humming the tune under her breath, she said a few peices of the song.

"Lily white and poppy red... Nothing gonna wake you now.."

Humming the instrumental bit, (Y/N) looks over her notes. Nodding at the small flower, she sees a patch of the last flower she needed to find. Poking at one of the small buds, she closes the book after. Placing it down on the grassy floor as she leaned against a old tree. Picking up a red flower from the ground and twirled into between her fingertips while the once crimson petals flutter to the ground, leaving only a stem.

"Dreams are sweet, until there not.. Flowers bloom until they rot and fall apart.. Is anybody listening? I open my mouth and nothing comes out. Nothing, nothing gonna wake me now!"

(Y/N) smiles, that one part of the song always made it harder for her to sing. If only she sang it right the last few times she tried. Maybe she wouldnt have her voice crack from all those failed attempts. 'Oh well,' she thought.

"Flowers, I remember fields. Of flowers, soft beneath my heels. Walking in the sun, I remember someone. Someone by my side. Turned his face to mine."

"And then I turned away, into the shade.." The female puts her hand out to feel the warmth of the sun light on her skin. "You, the one I left behind. If you ever walk this way. Come and find me lying in the bed I made." (Y/N) finished, a reminiscent look of longing in her eyes.

"Well, that should be the last of it." Picking up her book, she stands straight and re-reads through the notes as she walks back to campus. Until she bumps into a tree, not looking where she was going. "Ow." Rubbing her forehead, the dull throb ceases for a little bit.

"I thought I heard something?" A voice said not to far from her. (Y/N) turns around, only to be met with nothing? "I guess it was nothing." The person said sadly.

(Y/N) peeks behind the tree she bumped into. A young boy around her age sat underneath a tree. Wearing a simple white shirt with a black buttoned vest and light grey pants. His head covered in curly locks of golden sunshine hair and lips red as a rose. Little birdies and forest critters surround him as he talks with them about a dream he had.

He seemed to be caught up in his own little world. Reminding her of a certain someone back on her college grounds.

Not wanting to bother him with her presence. (Y/N) decided to find another route to get back to Night Raven. The young male starts to hum a familiar tone she heard earlier. 'So he was the singer! Dang, he's got range.'

"You have a nice voice!" (Y/N) said aloud, regret sinks into her gut once she heard him gasp. "Who, who are you? Where are you?" (Y/N) slaps her forehead because of her own stupidity.

"Dammit!"

The male winced at the sound and her voice. "A-are you alright?" "I'm fine! I'm fine! Just.."

"I'm dumb, really, really, dumb." Sighing, (Y/N) apologized for speaking to him and frightening him. Not moving from her spot. "It's, okay. I can tell from your voice that you didn't mean it."

"Oh, good.. But I meant what I said. Your voice is really amazing!" "O-oh? Thank you."

The little woodlan creatures watch the boy, his rosy cheeks reddening. Some of the birdies fly over to where the girl hid herself. Chirping at her in awe, certainly she was fit for him in their eyes. (Y/N) looks up to see the birds and gets the wrong message. "I guess I overstayed my welcome, I should get going anyway."

(Y/N) hums the song she sang before and starts to move her feet. "Wait! Please wait!" Freezes and questions him for why he didn't want her to leave. "You were singing too, right?"

"I heard your voice before. You sang about flowers, didn't you?"

"I.. I did. Why you askin'?"

[Twst Aurora] gulps back his shyness. "I think you have a beautiful voice too." [Twst Aurora] stated, standing in front of the tree (Y/N) hid behind. "..." The NRC student goes silent.

[Twst Aurora] heard a twig snap and looks down to see two pairs of shoes emerge from behind the tree. Slowly looking up, he sees a young girl around his age standing in front of him. A soft grin on her lips. "Thanks, as I said before, your pretty good yourself."

Blush coated the girls cheek as the two were face to face. Wanting to step closer to him, she takes a step back instead. Suddenly, out of nowhere. A few apple blossom petals fell on her hair and nose. Shocked giggles espaces her lips as more flower petals fell on her. Looking up, she sees little birds and squirrels squeezed together as they look down at them from a branch.

The male only stares at her smile and listens to her melodious laughter. A light hearted grin settled on his red lips. His heart fluttering like a birds wing.

(Ask box is open! Dang this is very sappy, someone draw this romantic display! I'm joking lol! Also, the reason why (Y/N)'s words are in bold, and [Twst Aurora] aren't. Is because the songs are supposed to contrast with one another.)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #royal sword academy #twst asks #royal sword academy x reader #twst aurora #twst sleeping beauty

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shackermanwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Next Time

Summary: "Did you know, when clouds are unhappy, they will cry their heart out that’s why there are rains? But the sky would laugh at them that’s why there are thunders, isn’t funny?"

You loved and chased him for four years but you suddenly stopped on the last year of senior year. Levi didn't know why, but now he knows.

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Warnings & Content: Death, Angst

Word Count: 2507

The wind dances swiftly through the air as soon as Levi stepped out of his car, he looked up to the dull, gloomy sky that seems to be pouring rain any minute from now.

He remembers how you told him how you felt the joy when it is raining, how you felt relaxed and calm as the tiny droplets of rain land on your skin. He couldn’t possibly forget the first day you talked to him, the weather was the same as today.

How could he forget that exact moment? You looked ethereal when the two of you first met.

He remembers everything.

The joy and excitement on your face as you entered your classroom was painted on your face, it was your first day of junior year. You're excited yet nervous to start your first day of high school since you will see new faces, and you get to experience a unique environment for you.

You carefully scan the room as you try to think about where you should sit for the rest of the year, you could sit on the first row and be that student who aces their classes, but you could also sit at the back of the class and make lots of friends while having fun for the rest of the year.

Yet your eyes land on the third-row seat, a boy who is sitting silently on his chair while looking over to the window with no expression painted on his face.

Slowly, your feet started walking towards him. You nervously grip on the strap of your bag when you stopped in front of him. He didn’t even glance at your side to acknowledge your presence.

“Hello,” you cheerfully greet him as soon as you sat on the chair beside him. The raven-haired boy didn’t bother to answer your greetings nor glance at you.

‘He must be having a bad day early this morning,’ you thought.

You placed your arm on the table of your seat and rested your chin on the palm of your hand as you looked at the sky he was looking at. You are invested in what the boy was looking at, yet you only found a dull sky and leaves swaying gracefully on the ground. You opened your mouth to engage in a conversation with him but thunder stopped you from doing so and that made the boy flinch from its sound.

‘Cute’ you thought.

A giggle escaped your mouth as you looked at him, this time, you were cut off not by a clap of thunder but by his beautiful steel gray eyes that match the shade of the sky. Your smile slowly fades as you get lost in how mesmerizing his eyes are as he looks at you with an annoyed look to hide the blush on his face.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you it's just that- oh, I'm Elide by the way what's your name?”

“My name’s Levi.” He replied

You gave him the sweetest smile you could give that day, even if his face screams annoyance from your presence. Yes, you gave him your smile and your name that day, but why did you include your heart.

Ever since that day, you would always sit next to him in class and engage in small talks with him, he sometimes answers, but he mostly stayed quiet. You help him with history subject and sometimes buy snacks for him since he doesn’t leave the classroom that often during breaks. You consider him as a friend.

Your friendship with him lasted for a year, but eighth grade changed when you already acknowledged your feelings for him. You were just a child, a foolish child who was scared to have regrets so you confessed the feelings you have for him.

Eight grade year came fast and this is the year that you confessed to Levi. You told him how you felt for him, how his eyes made the butterflies in your stomach fly, and how you felt happy whenever you see him, especially when he smiles, even if you only saw it once.

Yet you did not get the answer you wished you had. Instead, he pushed you away with all his strength. Its not like you were hoping that he would return the feeling to you.

“Stay away from me from now on.” That is the only answer you got and the last word he said to you since then. You watched him as his back slowly vanish in front of your eyes, but he never saw the tears that run through your cheeks.

It's been four years since you confessed to Levi, and you're now in your senior year, only months left before you graduate and start college.

You were not alone in those four years, you became friends with Sasha, Connie and Jean, and you also saw Levi with his new friends Hange and Erwin. They don’t hate you as much as Levi did since they would smile at you when you pass by each other on the corridors, and you would often exchange hi and hello’s.

In those four years, you never stopped loving him, you didn’t give up on him, and it never crossed your mind even though he would always ignore you as if you don’t exist in his world.

Since that day, Levi never talked to you so you would constantly write letters for him and slid them in his locker. You would tell him how boring math and history class was, you would ask him how were his weekend and holidays. You would leave candies on his desk every morning, you never saw him eating it but you also didn’t saw him throw it. But he still didn’t acknowledge you, it's like he forgot you even exist.

It pains deeply you but you stopped writing letters to him in your last year of senior year. You stopped giving him candies and you stopped looking at him with admiration like you used to. You don’t want to put an end to this, but you know deep inside of your heart that you have to.

“Excuse me for asking, but you don’t buy those candies anymore for your loverboy there. Is everything okay? He didn’t do anything to you, right? Jean and Connie will beat his ass up if he did.” You looked at Sasha who is busy writing on his notebook while sipping on her orange juice.

The three of them had always been there for you, the moments and memories you have shared with them are the most precious thing you treasure wholeheartedly.

Sasha and Connie are the persons who can make you laugh till your lungs and stomach hurt as you gasp out for air and tears would form under your eyes. They are your serotonins in life as they act like your younger siblings. On the other hand, Jean is like an older brother to you, he is overly protective to all of you and he is the person you would talk to when you're down and sad.

You smiled at those memories and the feelings you treasure.

You shake your head and glance over to the boy quietly writing on his notebook while the two of his friends are currently having a conversation. The first boy that made your heart flutter, the boy who made you like tea since it is his favorite drink, the boy who has the most mesmerizing eyes you’ve seen and soft hair that you still feel on your fingertips. Levi.

A small smile was already curved on your lips just by looking at him, you didn’t notice, but Sasha, Connie, and jean did. They looked at each other, and sadness are visible in their eyes.

Levi subconsciously looks at your side and his eyes widened a little when he met yours, you were in pain when you once again saw those steel-gray eyes, those pinchable cheeks that he has and those lips. You gave him a soft smile before you started writing on your notebook once again.

“No, he didn’t do anything, I gave up since I'm tired of chasing.” You softly replied to Sasha.

Liar.

You never did.

Levi opened the door of his car so Hange and Jean can get out. Nothing has changed over the years, Levi and Hange are still friends, along with Erwin. They manage to get through college and find a stable job. Hange became a Chemistry professor at the university she went to in college. Erwin is now an accountant at a famous bank, Sasha is now a flight stewardess and Connie's a pilot, Jean’s now an architect, and Levi is now a medical technologist. They all have their lives put together. They are contented and in some terms happy.

Levi held the Bouquet tightly in his hands as they walk over to your spot. He is neatly dressed as you would expect from him, he's nervous.

Hange placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm Levi down.

The three of them are out of words, and they don’t know what to say.

“She never stopped loving you, you know, she never did and she never tried.” Jean softly muttered loud enough for the three of them to hear.

“She-“ Jean choked on his own words while he nervously pulls something out from his wallet before handing it to Levi.

Levi can't feel anything, hell he can’t even move an inch of his body as it became numb, but he still manages to grab the paper jean gave.

“It's for you.” Jean said before excusing himself to return to the car.

He can’t do this right now.

“I’ll… leave you for a moment, I’ll be back.” Hange softly said while gently rubbing Levi’s back before leaving.

Hange only knew you by your name, but she knows deep inside that you and her could get along very well. She only had one memory of you, it's when she tripped on the stairs and her science project got ruined, people started laughing at her instead of helping her, she swears at everyone in the hall that day except for you. You helped her that day pick up her project without hesitation and with a smile that never left your mouth. She knows you’re a good person.

“Brat,” Levi starts while looking at you with those same gray eyes. He never changed.

He slowly opens the letter you wrote for him with his shaky hands as he tries his very best to compose himself.

Dear Levi,

Hello Levi, it is me! I'm sure you know me because if you already forgot about me, then I'm going to be so sad, just kidding. Did you know, when clouds are unhappy, they will cry their heart out that’s why there are rains? But the sky would laugh at them that’s why there are thunders, isn’t funny? Do you remember the first time we have met Levi? The sky was laughing at the sky, and maybe it was even laughing at us. You know, that day, I told you that it might rain, but you said that have hope because it will not rain. I did hope and it still rained, its funny because nine years have already passed and I'm still hoping, I'm hoping for myself, for my friends and family and for you. I'm dying Levi, I have leukemia and I already stopped the medication since the last year of senior year but you gave me hope to live and to fight then. Your eyes did gave me hope. I want to live Levi, I wanted to stay but I know I can't anymore, but I did not regret every single thing that has happened to me since it is all my choice.

I never hated you for mistreating me in high school, I never did. In fact, I am thankful for you and I'm grateful that I met you. Existing is barely possible but living with you is a miracle. The candies that I gave you, you know that I was looking at you every morning watching if you would throw them didn’t you? So you didn’t throw then, not a single one. I was curious, but I never dared to ask yet I also don’t want to regret now that I didn’t asked the reason why but it doesn’t matter now. Thank you Levi for everything, I don’t regret anything, so I hope you also have no regrets from the past. But hey, live your life to the fullest, don’t worry, I got your back.

Oh, also, did I tell you that you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen? I hope you know how much I love your eyes but not as much as I love you Levi.

See you, Levi.

-With love

Levi’s chest tightens as his body becomes numb and his ears started ringing. He brings the letter you wrote on his chest before drops of tears started escaping his eyes.

Levi never hated you, he never did. In fact, he loved and adored you just as much as you did. You were the first person who dared to talk to him continuously for years, you were the only person who cared for him despite how hard he pushed you before and he hated himself that he did not have the chance to express how he cared for you.

The day you confessed, his stomach tightens and his heart pounds as if it wanted to leave his chest, he wanted to say that he felt the same way but he can't, he doesn’t know how so instead, he pushed you away into his life. He stopped talking to you, hoping that you will hate him and leave him alone but you never did.

He constantly pushed you out of his life while you constantly pull him in yours. The both of you were only hurting yet none of you noticed.

He did regret pushing you away constantly and that is when he starts telling himself that he doesn’t deserve you, he was so scared that he might break you if he tries to apologize for what he did to you.

He's now late as he looks down on your tomb. Your smile that brings comfort to him was already gone.

You were gone.

The sky slowly becomes gray once again before letting out thunder above him.

Was the sky laughing at him? At you? At the both of you?

Levi slowly kneels as he places the flowers on your tomb, lost of words as he stayed silent while tiny drops of rain started hitting his skin.

He immediately put your letter inside his wallet, scared that it might get wet from the rain, it’s the only thing that he had that reminds him of you.

He looks at the same dull sky the day you’ve met, only this time, the sky is crying along with him.

“I love you more, more than you know. See you.”

#levi ackerman #levi #levi fic #levi fanfiction #levi one shot #aot fanfiction #aot #attack on titan #angst #one shot #levi x reader

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kingreywrites · 3 years ago

Text

words cannot say (what I want them to say)

Prompt: "You weren’t there...why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you! And you weren't there!" for @thefoghaslifted and anon

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 7670

Summary: "He's alive," she announces, yet there's no hope in her tone. "He… He won't be for long."

This picture is wrong, wrong, wrong, and Eugene wants to scream. Adira doesn't stutter. Adira doesn't talk in a soft, compassionate tone. Adira, the woman who chased down a myth for twenty-five years, does not lose her faith so easily.

And yet.

(Eugene receives a letter telling him his father is dying. He goes to the Dark Kingdom, and tries to find the right words.)

Note: this is a Death Fic so uhm yeah, Edmund does die here. Also this takes place five years post canon! I kinda mention it in the fic but just in case it isn’t too clear... Anyway it’s kinda sad, kinda weird, kinda long, but I hope someone enjoys this anyway gdhdhhd

Read on ao3

Eugene's first clue is one of his father's ravens, not Hamuel, flying towards him with a message attached to its claw. It should have been a relief - Hamuel is... bad, at this whole messenger thing, and despite begging Edmund to send a bird that wouldn't get lost in the boot of a random nesdernian merchant along the way, his father had never relented, giving his full trust to his companion of decades. So it should have been a good sign; a sign that the letter made its way to him in the quickest, smartest way possible. A sign that nothing got lost, and that maybe, Edmund was listening to him.

Yet, a pit of worry forms in Eugene's stomach at the sight. What kind of message couldn't allow for the delay Hamuel would necessarily cause?

His second clue is the small, neat writing that greets him on the letter. Adira's handwriting. She writes to them, sometimes, in the empty space of his father's letters; when Rapunzel asks her something in one of Eugene's own letters to his dad, or when Adira wants to make a remark on one of their adventures, always neat-picking their fights even from miles and miles away. She writes to them, so he knows her handwriting, knows that she never sent him her own letter unprompted before, knows that she wouldn't if she didn't have something to say.

Adira knows how to get to the point. The short message feels like a punch in the gut, and Eugene leans on the railing of the balcony without meaning to, hands trembling around the paper he keeps reading again and again.

"Eugene?" Rapunzel calls. He doesn't know how long he has been there. His eyes blur, looking at the letter again.

Eugene (not Fishskin, and it had been his last clue, because Adira always called him Fishskin, no matter the years and the distance, no matter if he complained or bragged about it, and the fact that she didn't here told him the worst thing about it all. She was trying to be gentle.)

You must come to the Dark Kingdom at once. King Edmund was wounded in an accident, and his condition is serious. Doctors fear he might not pull through.

Bring someone with you, and don't die on the road. (Gentle, too gentle, and if her words hadn't been enough, he would have known here that she did not think his dad would pull through either.)

"Eugene?" Rapunzel asks again, closer, but he doesn't turn to her.

We'll be waiting for you.

- Adira

A dark spot appears on the last sentence, staining it. He rubs at his eyes, heart beating sharply in his chest, and hands over the letter to Rapunzel without protests, his hands too weak to hold onto it anyway. He sees her face pale, sees the cold determination in her gaze, and he knows she'll agree before he even opens his mouth, but he asks anyway.

"Can we go visit my dad?"

She hugs him fiercely when he turns towards her, and he melts into it, still trembling. They begin packing right after.

------

Lance goes with them, steering the hot air balloon effortlessly. Eugene had tried to protest, words stuck in his throat as he had looked at Kiera and Catalina helping Rapunzel pack, but Lance hadn't budged.

("The girls will be okay," his best friend had said, voice achingly soft, like everyone who knew about what was happening. "You need me." Eugene had wanted to say no, but he couldn't, so Lance had come.)

Quirin is chatting on the other side of the balloon with Rapunzel. Eugene feels bad that he hadn't even thought of warning him when he decided to go to the Dark Kingdom, but Rapunzel had sent for him, and he was already coming to the castle, having received a letter similar to Eugene's own. Varian's father is a tall and silent man. The complete opposite of his son, Eugene had thought when he first met him, until the day Rapunzel and Quirin had a four hour long vivid discussion about apples and how to cook them, and Eugene had seen in the older man's excitement the echoes of Varian's own when he talked alchemy. Today, he learns that father and son get worried the same, all wringing hands and tired smiles that don't reach their eyes. It's a knowledge Eugene could have done without.

Doctors fear he might not pull through. It's almost as if Eugene can see the words dance in front of his eyes, for how much he had read them over and over again. The environment passes him quickly, cold wind blowing through his hair, and Eugene can't seem to focus on any of it.

There's a forest under them. Eugene is pretty sure they went through it the first time they were on the road, making their way to the Dark Kingdom with difficulty. He wonders, somewhat distantly, if there's a chance he'll spot Cass down there, riding through the woods on Fidella's back, her cape floating behind her. The idea is nonsensical - she's all the way over to the west side of the continent, and he knows it, knows she couldn't be there.

(His last irrational fear, before leaving, is that Rapunzel will miss Cassandra's next letter. It always arrives at the end of the month, and even if they tried, they wouldn't be able to warn her in time that they were travelling, and she won't get Rapunzel’s answer when she expects it, and she'll worry, and-

"Eugene," Rapunzel had said, her forehead against his. It was night. The Princess and the Captain of the Guard couldn't leave the castle in a day, no matter how eager they were. "It's okay. There will be more letters."

Maybe there won't ever be more time with his dad.)

Eugene keeps watching the forest down there, until it's out of sight.

------

That night, Rapunzel huddles close to him, seeking warmth as they fly through the colder air, and Eugene doesn't have it in his heart to ask for space anymore. He had done so earlier because- because he couldn't talk about it, not yet, not when he didn't even know, not when Edmund could- could already be dead as he hoped he wasn't, could survive as he grieved him. Eugene had asked for space, because he wouldn't be able to refuse if Rapunzel asked, and he didn't want to talk.

When he wraps his arms around her, it's with the cold resignation that now was a good setting for a breakdown anyway. Maybe in the dark, she wouldn't see his tears.

"I love you," she murmurs against his skin.

"I love you too," he answers easily, bracing himself.

She falls silent. Hums a soft tune under her breath - a song he taught her way back then, when everything was still so new and she didn't even know any other song than the incantation and the ones she had tried writing in her spare time. It's a song from his childhood, silly and simple, and he chokes up for the umpteenth time today, his nerves frayed. Rapunzel holds him tighter.

It takes a while, but Eugene falls asleep.

------

He hears the surprised and worried exclamations of his name as he jumps down from the balloon, but Eugene doesn't turn back. They were close to the ground anyway, and he can't wait any longer. Adira is there. A somber expression on her face. Eugene can't breathe as he walks towards her.

"Is he-"

"He's alive," she announces, yet there's no hope in her tone. "He… He won't be for long."

And yet.

There are a million questions at the tip of his tongue - what happened why didn't you protect him why does he have to die what's wrong with him why my dad why now why why why - but there's only one that's important.

"Where is he?"

A word from her, and he's off. He remembers very well how to find the throneroom, and his father's bedroom so close to it.

He's not surprised to find Hector sitting next to the door, his two bearcats growling at Eugene. Eugene is too tired to argue - he knows that Hector's loyalty is as strong as he is stubborn, and he knows the knight loathes to leave his dad's side when Edmund is in trouble. If Hector hears everything he says in this room, then so be it.

To his shock, Hector gets up. His eyes, always so wide and angry, are cast down.

"I'll give you two privacy," he says, his voice so alien Eugene barely recognises it. Even in the years they had known each other on somewhat friendly terms, Hector had always been loud, full of righteous anger over the smallest things. The man in front of him looks… defeated. He pets the head of one of his bearcats, still looking at Eugene. "If something happens, tell them to come fetch me."

Just like that, he leaves. The bearcats lay down on each side of the door. Eugene, hands trembling anew, finally turns the handle.

Edmund is in bed, pale skin flushed red. The air is heavy, reeks of medication, and his dad - his dad, so tall he easily towers over him, a mountain of a man who can easily defeat the strongest warriors - his dad looks small, under the covers.

Eugene is still stuck at the door, unable to move. In all this time since he got the letters, he hasn't thought once of what he would say, what he would do once he finally saw Edmund. He half-thought it would be too late, and he should be relieved that it's not but- he won't be for long, Adira had warned, and Eugene is helpless to do anything, he doesn't understand anything, Edmund was fine before and now-

There's a low sound in the room, of his dad struggling to breathe, and it's like a bolt of lightning went through Eugene, spurring him into motion. There's a chair on the left side of his father, and he sits down here heavily, eyes never leaving Edmund's face.

"Dad…" he whispers. "Dad, I…"

There are tears in his eyes again, and Eugene hates his own helplessness. His father is in pain, his father is dying, and he's just sitting here, unable to do anything, to fix anything. His hand seeks Edmund's, and Eugene gasps at how cold it feels, heart dropping in his throat when he raises the cover and sees purple fingers with greying fingertips.

High fever. Failing lungs. Cold extremities, likely due to low blood pressure. The terrible certainty in Adira and Hector's expressions that his father was going to die. Eugene is no doctor, but he has lived on the streets for a decade, and he knew the signs to look out for, knew what illnesses he should avoid at all costs, and treat immediately if he ever fell victim to them.

Sepsis.

His tears fall. Eugene, selfish as always, manages to say only one thing: "Please don't die."

Edmund doesn't answer.

------

After a while, Hector comes back to stand guard in front of the room. Eugene would thank him for the privacy, but he hasn't been able to say anything since that one whispered plea, the weight in his throat too overwhelming.

After a while, Rapunzel appears at his side. He doesn't notice, really - just, at one point, he raises his head and she's here, like she always is. She looks sad, too. He holds her hand. (He still can't take Edmund's without feeling sick. He can't give his own father comfort, because he's too scared of the cold and stiff fingers. What a son he makes.)

After a while, Lance is here too. His best friend of years, who has enough presence to make an empty theatre feel lively by being in it, is quiet as a mouse. Eugene wants to joke about that, before the mere idea catches up to him and his stomach twists terribly. How fucked up do you have to be to joke in front of your dying dad, he thinks. He can't avoid this, can't lighten the situation, but being a coward is ingrained in his bones at that point, and the fact that he could have- in front of-

"Hey Eugene," Lance says. His hand, big and warm, gently touches Eugene's, which is gripping his own hair tightly. He doesn't remember doing that. "Do you… Want tea?"

Eugene startles, not expecting this question. It takes him a moment before it registers, a moment before he tries to answer, only opens his mouth wordlessly, and closes it. Silently, he finally nods, heart speeding up for reasons he can't understand.

"Okay," Lance smiles. "Do you want to come make it with me?"

Eugene should say no. He should stay with his dad, who is at death's door and could die at any moment, his internal organs fighting a losing battle. Eugene should say no, he should talk and speak to his dad, speak to Rapunzel who he knows is worried, he should… He should be a good son, and say goodbye to his father, one last time.

His head is spinning. He opens his mouth, closes it without a sound, and nods again. He's not a good son.

Lance's hand on his shoulder guides him more than his feet do. The kitchen isn't far, and Lance busies himself with its sparse content, searching for a cup silently. Quickly enough, he's making tea, water boiling noisily in the kettle, breaking the oppressive silence of the castle. Eugene stands around, more and more aware that you don't need two people to make tea.

It feels like no time at all before Lance is pressing a warm cup in Eugene's hands, telling him to wait for it to steep. Lance keeps moving, making another cup. Eugene wants to ask who it's for, but can't bring himself to.

"Rapunzel and Qurin wanted tea too, remember?" Lance answers, at the question he can apparently read in Eugene's eyes. Eugene doesn't, in fact, remember; he's not even sure Quirin was in the room. "Adira said coffee, though. And Hector said he didn't want anything, but he strikes me as a coffee guy. I'll make myself tea, that way if I'm wrong, I can always switch them."

Just like that, Lance starts talking about anything and everything, and Eugene relaxes a fraction. He listens, and sips his tea slowly, the warmth soothing in throat. He thinks Lance put some honey in it. It's really good.

It feels like he's at home, and everything is okay, for a moment. Lance had become a cook after adopting the girls - he wasn't very good at listening to orders, so he had simply opened his own restaurant near the castle, soon becoming the most popular one in town. Of course, it helped that the princess herself visited it often, but Lance was genuinely amazing at what he did, and that's what kept the curious around.

For two guys who, fifteen years ago, thought their best chance at a future was to make a deal with the Baron, they were doing pretty good for themselves.

Eugene finishes his cup right as Lance finishes his preparations.

"Thanks," he croaks out shakily, earning a blinding smile from his best friend.

"You want another?"

Eugene hesitates, before nodding, making Lance chuckle. There's still boiled water in the kettle, so it won't take long.

"You know," Lance says, a certain carefulness in his voice, "it still happens to Catalina, sometimes. It's not like when she was a kid, but when she gets too anxious, her voice just… leaves her." Eugene feels himself flush, lowering his eyes. "Tea helps her. It doesn't give her her voice back if she's not ready, but it helps with her throat, when she feels like it's bothering her. I just thought…"

"It helped me too. Thank you," Eugene repeats. He wants to say that he's not like Catalina; that he's a grown man, who shouldn't have clammed up just because he felt bad, who should have been here for his father and everyone else, who should be there, right now, instead of drinking tea, but he bites his lips and holds it back. If he throws himself a pity party on top of it all, it'll take even longer.

"Eugene." Lance is in front of him, hands on his shoulder. Eugene can't do anything but look up, and sees in his best friend's eyes so much love and compassion that he wants to hide from it. "I know you. I don't know, exactly, what self-perceived failures you are torturing yourself with right now, but I know you're being too hard on yourself anyway. Your dad wouldn't want that."

Eugene breathes in sharply, tears burning in his eyes. He wants to get angry, or joke, or do anything to get out of this conversation, but he can't- he can't avoid this. The situation feels unreal, like he's going to wake up if he just concentrates enough, and he can't- he can't-

Lance pulls him to his chest and holds him tight. Eugene blinks, and suddenly he's crying, Lance the only thing holding him on his feet.

He shakes and he wonders how the shy kid he remembers became- Lance. Reliable, sensitive, funny Lance, who is a dad now and who can hold you together when you're falling apart.

Eugene remembers their first meeting, Lance crying in his new bed, freshly orphaned after the death of his parents. He remembers how quiet he had been for a while, and how he had stuck to him like a shadow after Eugene comforted him that first time, seemingly thinking him to be some sort of hero. Eugene, of course, had revelled in the attention, playing up his courage and his strengths, telling stories of his future adventures and of all the money he was going to have.

"How do you do that?" Lance had asked one day, after one of his stories. "You know, how do you… how do you not care about… your parents, and how they left? How do you stop caring?"

It had hurt, at the time. Lance's desperation (still grieving his family, still hurt, wanting to forget the pain without being able to) had flown right over his head, and all Eugene had heard was that his friend thought he didn't care, about anything. It was wrong, but that's what he had wanted, right?

So he had said: "Adventurers don't have the time to care about their family - they have the whole world to discover, after all."

It was a Flynnigan Rider quote. One of Flynnigan's enemies, sure, but Eugene thought it wasn't so stupid. He had wished he could be like that, like Flynnigan who didn't even have a family to care about, and could just do whatever he wanted.

But the truth he couldn't admit to Lance at the time was, Eugene cared. He cared and he cared and he cared, torturing himself with how much he did, crying himself to sleep with a practiced silence at the idea that no one in the world loved him. His own parents abandoned him as a baby, and he wondered what he could have done to them, wondered how he could be better if they came back. Eugene cared and he hated that he cared, hiding behind fantasies and made up names, desperate to escape his identity and his life and his skin.

And when it hadn't been enough, he had tried to carve the kindness straight out of his heart, hurting everyone in the process.

Even that hadn't been enough. Rapunzel had seen through him easily, finding him a worth no one would have even thought to look for. Gothel stabbed him, and all she managed to do was kill Flynn, because Eugene, who cried and loved and cared - Eugene had been there, like he hadn't allowed himself to be in a while.

Maybe, if he was still Flynn, the thought of his dad dying wouldn't make him miserable. Maybe, if he was still Flynn, he wouldn't be crying on Lance's shirt, wanting for everything to stop.

But if he was still Flynn, Lance wouldn't be there anyway. He would have lost his best friend after one betrayal too many, and never seen him again. He wouldn't love Rapunzel. He wouldn't love his friends, his family, his father. Probably wouldn't even know who Edmund was, or where he came from. He would be all alone.

He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want the people he loves to leave.

He doesn't want his dad to die.

"Please don't leave me," he asks between his tears, voice quiet enough that he hopes Lance hasn't heard, but Lance holds him tighter and promises he won't.

Eugene cries harder.

------

It's early in the morning. Eugene barely slept, kept awake by the idea of Edmund dying while he was resting. When the sun starts to poke through the sky, dim and feeble light reaching him, Eugene decides it's morning enough, and slips away to his father's room, careful not to wake Rapunzel. Hector is sleeping in front of the door, his bearcats piling up on him, but he opens an eye when Eugene arrives, and nods in his direction.

Edmund is still there, still alive. Quirin is here too.

"Couldn't sleep?" Eugene asks softly. It feels wrong to talk over someone unconscious, but… it feels wrong, too, to not acknowledge Quirin at all.

"I'm a farmer," Quirin says, "I wake up early more often than not." He doesn't return the question, but Eugene knows how awful he looks after a bad night, so Quirin is probably just trying to do the polite thing.

Eugene still has the chair closest to Edmund's hand. He also still can't take it, heart beating faster at the thought. His father's hand should be warm, agile as it handles a weapon, it should... it's his only hand left. It won't matter if he dies, but it's his only hand left, and Eugene feels ridiculous but he can't- he should ask Quirin to hold it, take his place since he couldn't give his father this one thing.

Edmund's breathing is louder today. He's struggling more. Eugene feels nauseous, unable to do anything, wishing he could have just slept and slept and slept so nothing would be happening.

"I met Edmund when I was ten," Quirin says out of the blue. Eugene raises his head, but Quirin isn't really looking at him. "I set him on fire, actually."

That gets a surprised snort out of Eugene, and a smile from Quirin, tired but genuine.

"Don't tell Varian, but I liked to experiment with all sorts of things at the time. It was supposed to be a self-destructive message, and, well, it was destructive alright."

"Why did you even give him a self-destructive message the day you met him?" Eugene asks.

"I was a friend of your mom," Quirin grins, a little self-conscious. "She was tired of Edmund being too shy to ask her on a date, so she asked me to deliver a message to ask him on a date. If he hadn't caught on fire, of course, I think they'd have both enjoyed it a lot."

Eugene smiles, and as the story progresses, he learns that Quirin gets embarrassed the same way Varian does, too. That's a knowledge he appreciates a lot more.

------

"It's all because he wanted to change," Adira says, cryptic as always.

The others left to have dinner. Eugene couldn't. Edmund's breathing is louder today, his fever higher, and he doesn't respond to pain stimuli. Eugene doesn't want to think about any of that, so he turns towards Adira, desperate for conversation.

"What do you mean?"

Her eyes are stuck looking at her king, pain and grief and anger in her expression. Adira doesn't usually allow herself to be read so easily, but she has been on edge the entire time. It takes some time, but Eugene understands that she's just as afraid as he is.

"The accident. Him getting wounded. It's all..." Adira swallows. Her eyes harden. "It's all because he wanted to move on. I wanted to move on."

Eugene doesn't really understand what she's getting at. He's heard bits and pieces of what happened, mind so scrambled he had trouble making sense of it, but it was simple enough. They were doing renovations. Edmund got hurt - a stupid accident, as all accidents were, and then it only got... worse. An infection that didn't want to heal, and when they really started to worry, it was too late. Eugene wants to rage at the unfairness of it all, and maybe he will, later, but it simply makes him tired.

Edmund shouldn't have to die like that after surviving decades of terrible loneliness.

"It was an accident," he ends up saying, because he can see the tightness of Adira's jaw.

She doesn't say anything to that. Long minutes pass, only rhythmed by Edmund's uneven breathing.

"I've always hated traditions. Especially stupid ones. The first thing I did, after being accepted in the Brotherhood, was to ask for its name to be changed, because I am a woman." A sigh. Eugene doesn't dare interrupt. "I was asked to behave myself properly, and took to eating food as noisily as possible, daring anyone to come fight me if they were brave enough. Of course, no one did." She pauses. Looks at his dad again. "When Edmund decided to destroy the moonstone himself, I protested, but I didn't think it was such a bad idea. For a long time, I wondered if I could have saved his arm, could have saved our kingdom, if I actually tried to stop him. If I had listened to traditions more closely, because not all of them were built on false beliefs."

Suddenly, Eugene gets it. The emotion in her voice, the lines around her eyes - a feeling so foreign in Adira that he hadn't been able to recognise it before. Guilt. And he knows that, for all that she's talking about the past, it's very much the present that is troubling her.

"Maybe that's true," he shrugs, quiet. "But then again, you tend to be right most of the time. And my life is what it is because of what happened back then, so I'm pretty grateful it all went down like it did."

That makes her chuckle, because what he says is definitely true. Adira's confidence is not unearned. But there's still something hanging in the air, and he waits to see if she's going to confide in him. He feels like he knows Adira as much as he doesn't - she's as straightforward as she's cryptic, and he thinks they're friends, in a way, but he's not one to push when someone has secrets they want to keep, and Adira isn't one for sharing. The silence between them is an understanding, and he's not sure how to navigate anything else.

"This castle," she starts, hesitant and slow, "was built over the spreading black rocks. It's strong, but it won't hold forever, now that its core has disappeared. We weren't doing renovations as much as we were emptying it, because King Edmund decided it was time to move on from the past, and start to live somewhere livable. It was a tough choice for him, and I... heavily encouraged it."

Bitterly, Eugene realises that after surviving so long in the claws of his past, his dad would still be taken by it. This castle, as much his home as it was his prison, won't let him escape it. Eugene wants to cry at that, wants to shake Edmund and ask him to get up and not let himself die for something so stupid, wants to shake Adira and tell her it was a good thing and it's not her fault it turned out so badly. Mostly, he wants to bury his head in his hands, scream and forget it all, because he knows his father only felt ready to leave behind his ancestors because Eugene always insisted that they did not define who they were.

He thinks he should say something meaningful in answer. Something like, I forgive you Adira, but then again she does know that, and doesn't really need his forgiveness, because she didn't do anything wrong. She's not seeking that; she's frustrated, just as he is, and needs... companionship. Someone who understands.

He's not good at coming up with life-changing advice anyway.

"Stupid castle," he declares, voice unsteady.

"Stupid castle," Adira echoes.

That's enough, for now.

------

Eugene is alone with Edmund again. It's been four long days since he got here, and he knows… He knows it won't be much longer. Doctors, when they come, try to make the king comfortable - they don't try to save him.

Eugene is looking at the form of his dad's hand under the cover again. Edmund wouldn't even feel it if he touched it, but Eugene still can't shake off the guilt and the shame choking him. He shouldn't be disgusted by his dying father. He's not doing any of this right - he's not fighting to heal him, he's not loudly grieving, he's not holding onto hope, he's not talking to him, he's… He's not a character from one of his books. Standing vigil at someone's deathbed wasn't just a couple of lines in his backstory, and every single minute of it hurt in a way he shouldn't allow.

This isn't about him, and yet it's difficult to think like it's anything but. Edmund hasn't regained consciousness once. The fever and the infection are doing damage they can't even see, and the doctors suggested his mind might already be… gone.

"I don't want you to die," Eugene whispers, words like knives in his throat. "I don't want you to leave. We've only had five years together, and it's… It's too short, I want more."

I want, I want, I want - he's selfish, he knows it, and he can't bring himself to regret it, not when that's the only thing which makes sense. His dad is still young. They already lost so much time together, already had twenty-five years to catch up on, and it's over? One accident, and he's gone, Eugene an orphan all over again?

"You've still got too much to make up for to leave me like that," Eugene bits out, a familiar and safe anger drowning away the hopelessness.

It's easy, to blame someone who can't respond, to get angry at his dad instead of crying over him. Eugene had spent years being angry at everything, and mustering this resentment all over again takes no effort at all. He clenches his fists on his knees, tremors coursing through them, and the feeling grows like a storm, until he wants to hit something.

"You- You've been so busy, rebuilding this stupid country, and we've barely seen each other these last years! We kept saying later, later, we'll have time later, and look where that got us!"

Edmund sleeps. His closed eyes, his heavy breathing, it all becomes too much for Eugene, igniting a fire he doesn't control. He slaps his hands on his knees, hard, frustration making him shot up from his chair and pace, but it doesn't seem enough because- Edmund is dying, his stupid dad is dying because of a stupid accident and it's so terribly mundane, it makes Eugene want to bash his head on the wall. He grips his hair, tries to breathe -deep, even breaths that his father can't manage-, tries to keep his tears at bay even though his eyes burn.

"All my life, you weren't there for me!" he explodes again, "You weren’t there… Why weren’t you there? I needed you! I needed you! And you weren't there! You weren't-" His voice breaks this time, and he cuts himself off, immediately feeling ashamed for his outburst. He sits down again, like a puppet with its strings cut, and his hands shake even more than before.

He doesn't feel better. Edmund doesn't look better.

"I'm sorry," Eugene whispers. "I'm sorry, I- I…" I'm a terrible son, he can't say. I'm not doing this right, I'm not being fair to you, I'm terrified and I don't know what to do. I want to wake up tomorrow, and still have a dad, still have a chance to get to know you better, because five years isn't enough and I don't want to lose you. I'll miss you so much.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles finally, mind buzzing with all he wants to say, all he's not sure how to say. "I forgave you for all of that long ago, I- I shouldn't have screamed." Not that it matters - but it does, at the same time.

Since he first received Adira's letter, Eugene had wondered about having the right words. It should be meaningful, right? His last words to his dying father, they had to be important, they had to be something that would help Edmund, didn't they? Except Edmund is unconscious. Maybe already gone. And these words, these words he tortured himself over, maybe they weren't for Edmund's sake as much as they were for his. It made him feel worse, for some reason. Selfish, again.

Eugene presses the palm of his hand against his eyes, slowly feeling how his tears slip through anyway. He wishes Rapunzel was here, even if he's the one who asked for some time. She would know what to say. She would… she would help, because kindness and advice and everything, it came easier to her. Eugene is still… still learning, he thinks, still not caring enough in comparison. He's never caring enough. He's rude, and yells at dying people because he can't keep his emotions in check, and doesn't hold their hands because he's scared, and- and-

He's not good at this. He doesn't want to be.

"I never thought I'd have a dad," he chokes out. "Even now, I'm not sure I know how to be a son, after so long of not being one. But… But I'm glad we could learn together, these last few years. I'm glad you are my father." Despite the weirdness, and the awkwardness, and Dabney - Eugene doesn't say that, but it makes him chuckle tiredly.

Maybe it would hurt less, if Edmund had died before Eugene could meet him. It certainly felt different learning about his mom; painful, too, but not anything like the claw he could feel bury itself in his heart. It's so soon, too soon to lose his father again, because five years is nothing in the grand scheme of things and Eugene had always wanted more out of life, but… If he could do it all over again, he'd want things to be exactly the same. He'll never regret meeting Edmund.

"I love you, dad," Eugene says, crying as he looks at Edmund. It's just the truth, not some grand declaration, but it's enough all the same.

Oh so slowly, Eugene rests his hand on top of Edmund's own, the cover between them. He thinks, maybe, that Edmund is breathing easier.

------

In the next hour, the last king of the Dark Kingdom dies.

------

"Want a drink?" Hector grunts from where he's laying, vaguely shaking a bottle in the air.

It's not really a surprise to find him here. Eugene sits down next to him, and doesn't bother with a response, instead taking the bottle from the knight's grasp and drinking a little out of it. It's definitely not the best stuff but Eugene has drunk worse in his life, so he doesn't comment on it. He's not looking to get drunk anyway.

He doesn't really know what he's looking for. Air, mostly. Rapunzel doesn't want him packing, she thinks he should rest, but staying too long with his own thoughts as company quickly gets heavy. Eugene sighs, and lays down completely, looking at the stars shining above them - there are a lot more than what you can see from Corona. Maybe because there's less people, and less light to hide them away.

"I'm not gonna comfort you if you start crying," Hector interrupts gruffly, sounding sick at the mere idea. Eugene laughs, because there's perhaps no funnier scenario than him seeking out Hector for a hug. At best he'd get trampled by his rhino.

"Staying inside sucked," is all he answers, and Hector hums. He seems to understand that.

They stay like this for a long time. Just silence, sometimes broken by Hector drinking a little bit more. Eugene would worry, if he didn't already know that everyone in the Brotherhood has a stomach made of steel, and that Hector will need a lot more to really get drunk.

It's not much, but it's nice. At least Hector doesn't pity him. Eugene is grateful for the comfort he receives, but sometimes the attention feels like it hurts more than it helps, and he's definitely getting overwhelmed right now.

"Any plan on taking his succession?" Hector asks after a while. It's not a surprise either that he breaks the silence first - when he first met him properly, Eugene thought he was the surly and silent type, but Hector did like conversation. He was unpleasant most of the time, sure, but if he was thinking something, he tended to say it directly. (He wouldn't say it, but Eugene also thinks Hector is a bit lonely.)

"Nah. Not really my kingdom to manage, and I'm too pretty to be king," Eugene responds. He told his dad years ago that he would never be his successor, and though Edmund had a difficult time wrapping his head around it, he had accepted it.

"Probably would have quit if you did," Hector says pensively. Eugene feels ready to protest because it's one thing for him to not want it, and another to have someone hate the idea so much, but he stops himself in time to hear Hector murmur: "I couldn't call anyone else my king."

Ah. Loyalty, the one thing in Hector Eugene understands easily. He can't really imagine having his one purpose in life being ripped away from him, can't imagine how it feels to keep going after that.

Then again, Hector has more experience with this kind of situation than most. It's a sad fact in its own right.

"Guess you guys will finally have to change the name," Eugene muses quietly, knowing it's better to change the subject. They're not the right people to have a heart to heart. "Dark Kingdom wasn't super inspired to begin with. Though, I hope you don't go for something equally stupid, like Dark whatever-the-new-regime-is."

He expects a barb about his own ancestors being responsible for that, but Hector falls silent. He's thinking, Eugene gets after a while, and he doesn't like the weird gleam in the other man's eyes.

"Edmundland," Hector whispers, nearly reverently. Eugene can't contain an audible gag.

"You are not naming it that."

------

Two weeks have gone by since Edmund's funeral, and it still doesn't feel real. Back home in Corona, it's easy to forget - Eugene doesn't see his father often, and his routine has barely changed, so it's easy to think, for a moment, that Edmund is alive and happy in the Dark Kingdom.

The wave of his grief recedes, before crashing back violently. When Eugene remembers, it hurts all over again, like he's back at his father's side hearing his breathing quiet, until there's nothing left.

He keeps going. He cries, too, and then gets up and keeps going. Rapunzel and him left for a week and a half, and there's plenty of work to catch up on, even if everyone is determined to ask him if he doesn't want to rest instead. In truth, he doesn't really know - keeping busy helps, but there are moments when he wishes he could simply curl up in his bed for a century, and never talk to anyone again. His mood is unstable, but he tries not to take it on anyone, as hard as it can be.

He already yelled at Lance to leave him the fuck alone once, and despite his best friend assuring him that he understood, Eugene wants to go apologise again.

So today, when he woke up on edge and then nearly threatened to kill Pete for stumbling, Eugene was quick to decide that it was better if he took that rest, finally. That's why he's on his bed right now, leaning back with his feet still on the ground, tracing Rapunzel's mural with his eyes and trying hard to not think about anything. But then his eyes stray to the right, to the painting he knows represents him and his father hugging, and Eugene doesn't know whether to cry or to yell. He takes a pillow, puts it over his head, and does both.

He doesn't feel better. He feels ridiculous.

Grieving feels like it should be more. He shouldn't wake up in the morning like he usually does, he shouldn't take his coffee the same way, he shouldn't hide behind a pillow and he shouldn't avoid his work and he shouldn't… He should do something more, and he cannot name what that might be.

What he knows, though, is that he misses Edmund, and doesn't feel like he's ever going to be able to breathe like he did before.

So he stays in his bed, pillow pressed against his head. He doesn't move when he hears the door open. Doesn't move when he feels Rapunzel sit next to him, before laying down just like he is. He's crying again, and he hates it.

"I don't know what to do," he admits then, voice muffled and broken. Rapunzel touches his arm gently. "I feel so bad, and I don't- I don't feel like it's gonna get better."

"It will," she says, so certain that Eugene can't do anything but believe her. "It won't be like before, but it'll hurt less, one day."

He closes his eyes tightly, until they hurt. Crying gave him a headache, but it's practically a constant these days. He thinks about Rapunzel's words, and knows intimately what she's referencing - remembers more than well how she grieved Gothel, full of hurt and pain and anger at the fact she even did. He hadn't really understood at the time either. But Gothel had raised her for eighteen years; Rapunzel had loved her for all of them, and still loved this mother she knew never existed. So she had mourned her, she had hated her, and Eugene had tried his best to be there for her.

It's not the same, with his dad. Of course it wasn't, because for all of their history, Edmund had still loved him, more than Gothel had ever cared for Rapunzel. It's different, but Rapunzel understands, in a way, what it means to lose a parent. She understands his grief. He sees it in her eyes when he finally discards the pillow, and meets her gaze. His face is a mess, yet she smiles sadly and kisses his tears away, pulling a worn out smile out of him.

"Thanks Sunshine," he whispers, "I really hope so."

"I'll be there, no matter what," she assures, even if he never doubted it. "I… I also have a gift, for you," Rapunzel says, more unsure of herself this time.

He straightens up as she does, intrigued, and wanting to let her do what she thinks will help. He thinks she needs it just as much as he does, because she lost someone too - no one wants to say it, but Eugene knows he's not the only one grieving.

He doesn't know what to expect from the piece of paper she holds towards him. Slowly, she hands it to him, careful and worried, and he wants to reassure her immediately that it's okay but.

But.

There, under his fingers, is a painting. He sees himself, smiling, soft and beautiful in the way only Rapunzel paints him. On his left, his mother stands, a happier expression than the one on the only painting left of her on her face, her hand on Eugene's shoulder, looking so alive and present that tears spring up to his eyes. And then, on his right…

He realises, while he looks at his father's peaceful expression, that it's the first time in weeks he has thought of his dad as he was in life, instead of the dying man he had been at the end. His skin is pale, but healthily so, no traces of fever on his cheeks. His smile is wide like it often was when Eugene told a bad joke, and his eyes are aware and full of joy. He's touching Eugene's shoulder too, in the painting, and on his bed Eugene can almost feel it - that weight on him, neither stiff nor cold.

"I thought… I thought you'd like having a picture with all three of you," Rapunzel says, and he doesn't have to watch to know she's playing absently with her hair, nervous.

Eugene is careful not to crumble the picture like his heart is, putting it down as he desperately reaches for Rapunzel - and she's here, immediately, even if he's crying again and making a mess and holding her so tight he's afraid to hurt her.

"I love it," he says again and again, mixed with thank you and I love you and I'm sorry. She holds him and whispers that she loves him too, again and again.

Weeks will turn into months will turn into years. The picture will stay on his bedside table, always.

(Things do change, and because they change, they heal.)

#tangled #tangled the series #Eugene Fitzherbert #King Edmund #Rapunzel #Lance Strongbow #Adira #Quirin #Hector

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kaysayshey · 4 years ago

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lunch break || s. aizawa

Kay's Notes: Hey, y'all. I think this might be my first time ever posting my writing on Tumblr, so bare with me. I've been using mobile exclusively, and let's just say that my theme is going to be a work in progress. If there is anything you as a reader would like me to change in either tagging or formatting, please let me know! I'm always open to comments, suggestions, critiques, whatever. This work is edited from an OC x Aizawa fanfic that I am working on. I'll be writing more reader insert type works in the upcoming months, as I now have an embarrassingly long list of them.

Summary: Aizawa and Y/N decided to meet up for lunch. That sounds simple enough, right? Ha, wrong. Lunch for two turns into lunch for one.

Warnings: AFAB reader, NSFW, minors DNI. Non-established relationship, oral (f! receiving), praise, slightly insecure reader near the end. Reader is a hero and has a quirk, but it is not defined.

The hellions were too much. Administering the written portion of the final exam had Shouta questioning his choice in career path, if he was being frank. How some of his students had passed the entrance examinations was beyond him at this point, and the thought of grading them sent a chill through his body despite the day's heat.

Despite the impending horror that was Kaminari Denki's handwriting and subsequent answers, Aizawa had a small smile on his face as he made his way to Y/N's apartment. Their last encounter had him yearning for more, anything to learn more about the angel that had graced his presence.

How could he even describe it? She had been nothing like his expectations, instead defying them one by one. Snarky in the best ways, quick-witted enough to leave him holding back chortles. Powerful enough to keep almost any other hero on their toes. Gorgeous, too gorgeous. And she had admitted feelings to him? What was there left to say? He felt honored to be attempting, well, whatever it was they were calling their relationship. Kisses and lingering touches be damned.

"Meet me for lunch after the finals? I'd be more than happy to cook for you at my place."

And meet Y/N for lunch he would.

She had left her door unlocked, obviously expecting him. But when Shouta made his way through the foyer of her apartment, Y/N was nowhere to be seen. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. What happened to lunch?

“Oh, Shouta…”

There was no chance in hell. He had to keep every muscle in his body taut so as not to sprint to her bedroom, the stiffening of his member almost instant. It took all of his willpower to casually make his way to her room, the door wide open.

That little minx. She was laid out on her bed completely bare, hair splayed beautifully beneath her. Her back arched as she rubbed slow circles over her clit, slick all the way down to her mid-thigh. Another breathy gasp escaped her; her eyes squeezed shut as she moaned out his name once more.

He couldn’t help himself from slowly making his way to the edge of her bed, unraveling his capture weapon as he walked. “Kitten, is this all for me?”

Y/N's eyes shot open immediately. Those incredible breasts were on display for him, finally. Her thighs clenched together over her hand, blocking him from viewing anymore of her dripping folds.

“I – I thought you’d be later,” she gasped, snaking her free arm over her chest.

“I’m glad I’m not.” The words came out in a murmur as he pulled his top off in one fluid motion, dark eyes taking in every inch of her form. Achingly slowly, he kneeled onto the bed, one hand creeping up her side, relishing in the soft skin beneath his fingertips. He moved to grasp her chin in his hands, forcing her to meet his lust-blown gaze. He gently pressed a kiss to her lips, sighing when she responded so eagerly.

“Who knew I’d be having you for lunch, angel?” At his question, Y/N moaned, the very phrase sending goosebumps all over her body. The slightest heave of her breathing sent her chest up closer to him, and God be damned if he wasn’t desperate to pull every part of it between his lips.

“Sho-Shouta, please,” she stammered, her head rolling to one side of the pillow. He took that as an invitation to press his lips to her neck, nipping lightly at her skin, groaning at the sound of her voice. God, this was too much. He was suckling at her skin like a man starved, ravenous for her crying out for him. But he knew better than to push too far. He’d make her beg for it. Not just today, but for as long as he could get away with it. Until she couldn’t go a single day without pleading for him to fill her completely, to give in to her wanton need for them to become one.

“Easy, kitten. I’ll take care of you.” Shouta’s voice was low and gravelly as he moved further down her skin, lips endlessly exploring every part of her flesh. He stopped at her collarbone; another suckle that had her bucking her hips, leaving a lovely bruise in his wake. To her sternum, lazily licking between her breasts. Y/N heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair and subsequently whining when he wouldn’t move. A soft tug to his locks made him smirk, eyes flashing up, mesmerized by the expression on her face. Her eyes were half-lidded and those pouty lips were plump and parted. He could only imagine how it would feel to watch as her lips wrapped around his cock, to have those beautiful eyes staring up at him from where she was settled on her knees.

Finally, he allowed himself to wrap his lips around one perky nipple, giving it a quick suck before leisurely stroking it with his tongue. Shouta slid a hand down to gently push her thighs apart, anxious to feel her heat for himself. God, she was overwhelmingly wet. How could he keep himself from smiling when he knew he was turning her on so well? As he languidly continued to work his tongue around her breast, he inched a finger to her folds, chuckling softly when she arched at the touch.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” Shouta whispered the words, pleased when she gasped out as he rubbed a soft circle over her clit, the lightest touch to keep her on edge.

“Ba-baby, please,” she groaned, releasing her vice-like grip on his hair when he moved from her side to kneel at the edge of the bed. It was followed by a squeak as he pulled her by the hips to meet him, keeping her thighs spread for him to enjoy. The hums she emitted were low, interrupted by soft whispers, his name a prayer between her lips. But in Shouta’s eyes, her body was a temple, and he was here to worship it, eager to finally have a taste of heaven.

His tempo was torture, agonizingly slow. The up and down of his thumb over her clit kept her rolling her hips, wordlessly begging him for more.

And when she looked down, the smirk he gave her was brash, an arrogance she would never have expected to see on Shouta’s usually stoic face. But the moment he gave her one long, achingly slow lick from her entrance to her clit, she learned why he was so cocky. He knew that he was going to leave her breathless. He repeated the movement for what felt like forever, leaving Y/N running her hands through his hair once more. Those easy strokes evolved into Shouta focusing his attention to her clit, lapping at it greedily.

Shouta couldn’t get enough of her. The taste of her, the feeling of her hands keeping him exactly where she wanted him. The way she would moan out softly, following it up with a whine when his licks turned into soft sucks. He fervently slipped a finger inside of her, curving it as he slowly pumped.

“More, more, please.” Her mewls were desperate, and he chuckled against her folds, obliging her. The movements were deliberate, his pace steady as he continued to thrust into her, reaching the spot that made her groan. Looking up again, he was mesmerized by the carnal desire in her eyes, by the way she deliciously rolled her hips against him. And as much as he yearned to just take her then and there, Shouta kept his focus on her pleasure. He gradually increased the pace of his thrusts, continuing to suck on her swollen nub.

Her walls started clenching, and Y/N’s breathing grew more labored with every minute.

“Shouta, wait, I'm going to -” Her words were strangled in her throat, and he had no problem ignoring them. He wouldn’t wait. Not when she was writhing from his touch, from the way he devoured her. No, he wouldn’t stop, not when she was on the edge. This was what he had been aching for. Shouta added a third slender finger into her folds, groaning as she started to flutter around him. Her hands were gripping the bed sheets like she was afraid they’d fly away, and the movement of her hips was erratic.

He held one of her thighs down with his free hand and thrust into her furiously, knowing just how close she was.

“Oh my God, Shouta, I -”

“Come for me, angel.”

Her walls spasmed around his fingers, and those luscious hips lifted off of the bed, furiously writhing against his hand. Y/N’s moans were the most beautiful music he had ever heard. Shouta watched in awe as she came, keeping his pace consistent until she begged, pleaded for him to slow down, no more, please, Shouta.

Y/N shuddered on the bed, her legs finally closing together when Shouta laid himself next to her, gingerly running his hands through her hair. Gentle kisses against her cheeks, her neck, her forehead. God, she was sacred in his eyes. Those brilliant eyes fluttered open, and a radiant smile graced her lips.

“You’re absolutely divine, Y/N,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist. Her skin was damp to the touch, but he wanted to feel it all the same.

“You can’t say things like that, Shouta. A girl just might believe it.” The words were light, but they held a hint of sorrow behind them. As if she didn’t think he’d ever mean it. He took her chin in one of his hands once more, begging her to meet his eyes. And she did, albeit it begrudgingly.

“Y/N, you are an angel on Earth, and I will make you believe it, whether you like it or not.” A devoted kiss to her lips. He’d remind her every single day until it was ingrained in her – she was incredible.

#kaysayshey #mha #bnha #bnha aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x female reader #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #hi i'm super anxious to post this #please let me know how you like it!#anywho #stream butter for clear skin #oh god why am i like this

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vanillann · 4 years ago

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right where you left me (bucky barnes x reader)

someone tell me to stop writing sad 40s!bucky fics that aren’t even that good, thank :)

warning: bad angst and mention of death

based off “right where you left me” by taylor swift

word count: 1.7k

Bucky coughed lightly from the other side of the table, the waiter finally leaving us to sit with ourselves. I smiled, my finger playing with the napkin that sat in front of me.

“How’s the salad?”

I frowned at the weird tension that had grown between us recently, conversation and looks not the same they once were.

“Good, how is the steak?”

“Dry but good.”

The conversation ran out again, the check balancing on the edge of the table as we both sat waiting for something to happen, anything at this point.

“(Y/N)?”

“Bucky?” I leaned back in the booth, folding my finger as I waited for some sort of words to fall from his lips.

“I really need to talk to ya,” he trailed off, coughing again as he grabbed the check and began playing with the little piece of paper.

“About?”

“Us.”

My heart dropped, I wasn’t stupid. Everyone would know how a conversation like this would go, it was obvious we hadn’t been the same but I thought we would fix it by now.

“What happened?” I didn’t move, my eyes piercing thought him as I waited for some sort of lame excuse, some excuse about the war or something.

“I- I,” he trailed off again, finally put the checkbook down and let himself cross his arm, setting them on the table. He looked up at him, his eyes looked so broken and I couldn’t tell you why he was walking away, not me.

“There this girl-“ I drowned everything else out, his mouth was moving but I couldn’t put words to it. The room suddenly slowed down, the room suddenly felt like a box I had been taped in.

“A girl?”

“Dottie, she is a doll,” yes please talk about this new lover of yours, exactly what I need to hear.

I knew I was overthinking everything, but I could feel eyes on me. The check was long forgotten as he went on and on.

“Steve told me I should put you through more unnecessary pain,” he spoke his piece, finally shutting up for a second.

How do you respond to that?

“Dottie,” I repeated the name, my eyes drifting to the window that was across the room, making out that the sun had finally set and the stars were out.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), you deserve better-“

“You could have been better for me if you loved me,” I spoke softly, my words felt harsher than intended but I could do much more than that.

I felt sympathy for the doll in the kid’s section, the doll that was stuffed in the box to very leave that single moment in their life.

“I’ll always love you, it’s just not the same.” Bucky reached across the table, leaving his hand open for me to squeeze back, his way of removing his guilt.

“Yeah, okay.”

I was pissed, maybe I didn’t have the right but maybe that was the biggest thing I was allowed at this moment.

“(Y/N),” his words felt like forever ago, my stares went.

“I’m fine Barnes, I’ll get a cab. Please just leave.”

He’s titled his head, begging me to just come with him but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t sit in a car, in his passenger seat that she most likely once sat in, and act like my heart wasn’t ruined.

“I can call Steve,” I simply nodded, Steve was still my friend and I wouldn’t have to worry about catching a cab this late in the late night.

“Okay,” he said nothing else, leaving the money for the tab thankfully, I would have killed him if he left it to me.

“I’m sorry again (Y/N), it’s not you but me,” that he stood from the booth, moving the hat that sat on his head around a little more before he took it off completely, bowing to me quickly, then leaving the restaurant completely.

It’s not you but me.

What a bullshit line, what a bullshit line for a bullshit break up. I looked back out the window on the other side of the restaurant, seeing him standing in the phone booth most likely calling Steve.

Or maybe he was calling Dottie, telling her they could be together.

Maybe it was selfish of me, to be mad at him for choosing his own happiness, but I had only wished my own way at the expense.

I couldn’t be mad at Bucky, I most certainly couldn’t be mad at Dottie. She did nothing wrong, she was just a girl who loved a boy. A boy who no longer loved me.

I felt as if dust had collected on my shoulder for how long I sat at the booth. My eyes roamed the room and not a single waiter or waitress tried telling me to leave.

I felt the time had frozen before I felt a small tap on my shoulder, my eye-catching sight of familiar blonde hair.

“Hey,” his voice was soft, as it had always been, but this time was much different.

“Hi,” I was shocked at my own voice, the little crack made my hand run over my throat.

“Have you moved since he left?”

I shocked my head, my eyes never leaving that stupid window since I watched his back walk away.

“Sorry you had to come down to collect me,” the sarcasm dripped from my voice, I always got this way when I was upset.

“You’re the only person I’d do it for,” I knew he would do it for Bucky too, but he refuses to actually say his name.

“He just left Stevie,” I felt the tears play behind my eyes, Steve finally pulling at my hand. I stood up, both of us finally leaving that booth in the corner of the restaurant.

It was suddenly my least favorite spot in the world.

I played with the end of the menu, that window in the same spot it was all that time ago.

It felt like it was forever ago at least.

The news played through the speaker over the door, the name of all the fallen of the war.

I was suddenly happy my friend was a super-human, taking down his chance of being called.

“Jeffery Rhode-“ the name rang through the room, my hand grabbing my glass of water as I waited for my salad to come out.

“George Teller, James Barnes-“

I felt myself choke, my hand flying to my throat as I heard the name called. Only a few more followed but I didn’t have it in me to pay attention.

James Barnes.

A fallen soldier.

Fallen meant dead, he was dead.

I felt tears slip down my cheek, my eyes trained back out that stupid window. My brain played with me, acting as if I would still see him in that phone booth.

I couldn’t comprehend my thoughts. How did it always happen in this corner? Why were all my worst moments stuck here?

“May we have a moment of silence for the fallen soldier.”

I needed more than a moment, I needed a lifetime. I wonder how Steve felt, how Dottie felt.

Was he even still with Dottie?

Why couldn’t I wrap my head around it?

“Here’s your salad,” the older woman, the one who recognized me by now, placed the salad before me with a little sad smile. I couldn’t even nod at her, couldn’t even thank her.

I wished she had bought a steak out too, just to know he was there. Even if I knew he would leave me, I would rather have that than him leaving all of us.

“Buck,” I spoke mostly to myself, still coming to terms with everything.

I hope he heard me from somewhere, to know I wasn’t made anymore.

I looked to my wrinkled hand on the table cloth, waited for that stupid salad like I did every time.

The old phone booth from outside was now gone, instead sat at an ATM that was in high demand. I was shocked the restaurant hadn’t gotten torn down yet, but once I noticed the picture with Steve on the corkboard I knew exactly what happened.

The music was different than it once was, the old 40s music was now much different. They would occasionally play a few older songs, ones that made me feel like that poor broke soul again.

I didn’t understand why I kept going back, it was starting to be pathetic but I couldn’t care. It was the only place I understood.

I was stuck in my own nightmare, yet I was doing it to myself at this point.

I heard the bell above the door ring but I didn’t have it in me to turn and look at who it was. I had become familiar with the regulars over the years that would visit the place often.

I watched a raven-haired man walk up to the ATM. I recognized him as Tony Stark, you knew a face like that anywhere. I was shocked he was in town but my thought was distracted when I heard looking boots approaching my table.

I looked up casually, thinking it would be a waiter. I didn’t recognize the hair at first, the long dark hair that looked softer than silk, but the face was the same.

The little stumbled and the same piercing eyes that I could never forget, the same ones that broke my heart twice within one lifetime.

“It’s me-“

“Buck?”

I didn’t get up with the Avenger stuff, Steve told me little things but other than that I was completely separate from that lifestyle.

“Yeah,” he looked nervous, something I never used to with him, he wasn’t a nervous person.

Not with me, not with Steve, probably not with Dottie.

“Can I sit?”

I nodded, watching as he took the seat he took at those years ago. He was dressed differently, the red shirt and the dark jeans were different from the army green suit he wore proudly.

“It’s your seat after all,” I spoke softly, watching him nod to me with a sad smile.

“Steve said you come here often.”

I didn’t respond, still looking at him with a pout and my head was starting to hurt.

Was it really him?

It wouldn’t be that absurd, look at Steve, but they said he died. He looked like the one stuck in time, the one who still hadn’t grown up from that moment.

“I’m right where you left me.”

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