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firstyok · 2 years ago

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- Our Skyy 2 x The Eclipse End Notes -

So, I had to do this because I've never been happier in my life, until I witnessed my babyboys akkaye returning back with a passionate love sequel this month. You have no idea how much I adored, loved and enjoyed these 2 episodes bit by bit, it filled my entire heart with ecstasy, love and joy. So, here I am again, ready to appreciate the hell out of these outstanding episodes for my AkkAye babies. Stay with me, and hear me out on this.

Below, I've addressed the core main things of these episodes which I loved, enjoyed and adored the most. Honestly, every single second of these episodes were a chef's kiss for me, but of course I can't write single thing out there. I would run out of images, and I hate making part two's. So, here I am, with the best and main things about this show, for which I'd basically keep watching these episodes over and over again until I witness SanRay.

BEST THINGS ABOUT THE EPISODES

1. Message on Perspective and Communication in a Relationship

Let's rule out the complex part first. The Eclipse original show ended with Akk and Aye getting together, and it was the most thrilling moment to experience that time. But now, since they're already past that, AkkAye are in a relationship for quite a while now, and these two episodes were truly valuable in terms of how "romantic relationships are not always about rainbows and butterflies". It takes a freaking lot more to maintain and cherish the relationship you have with your partner, than to simply end it or start a new one. I think maintaining a relationship is the hardest thing of any kind of love, and this show portrayed it in such a simple yet beautiful way. Yes, sure - the birthday thing could be quite a common silly problem, but it is a very realistic one.

For someone like Akk, who underestimates himself and cares so much for others, and what others think of him - it was very likely of Akk to react that way. Deep down, he is excited about his birthday like anyone would, but meanwhile he doesn't want to bother anyone for him, especially Aye. He is not an expressive person, due to all the events that impacted him in Suppalo, but he has softened down and feels comfortable alot more than before. He doesn't say anything about his birthday, instead he expects Aye to remember it by himself, and not by Akk, which is normal. But on the other hand, Aye has other plans.

Aye is secretly planning a surprise for Akk's birthday, and everyone in his friend group is aware of that, except Akk. He was truly invested into carving that special song for him for the last few days, that Akk notices him paying less attention, while his birthday is approaching. So, Akk feels extra worse. On top of that, Aye acts completely oblivious to the birthday, he acts as if he completely forgot and has no idea of it's arrival. I understand Aye's perspective for keeping the surprise and gifting it to Akk like dropping a bomb, but he is so engrossed in that future part, the he is unseeing how much hurt Akk is going through right now. Aye, who believes Akk should stop caring about others too much, and think about himself - Aye wants Akk to talk about it, but also interrupts him simultaneously. Because he doesn't want the surprise to go all out beforehand.

There you have it. You cannot completely put the blame on either of them, and also you cannot give any credit as well. Because both of them are at fault. People aren't perfect, and that's what makes life so beautiful and flawed. While Aye is preparing beautiful things for Akk - Akk sulks, believing that Aye actually forgot his birthday. It's extremely common in real life, don't you think? Even if it sounds stupid, if that thing happened to me, I'd too question whether he forgot my birthday or not, or I'd similarly be too excited for the gift that I forgot how much pain I'm giving to the other. They assumed things, and created a gap of communication, which is understandable but also something to be repaired - every couple, every being needs time to rewind and reset. I think it was a dramatic and lovely presentation of how Akk and Aye are definitely the two sides of the same coin. They are different, they have different perspectives, different communication and love styles, but despite their differences, they balance each other out. That is why - Akk needs Aye, and Aye needs Akk.

2. Wasuwat's Short Film

Another important theme of these two episodes was definitely around Wat's short film and the new shooting scenes for them. I loved how the show portrayed Wat's new beginning in his career due to his love for Indie films. I believe dreams should be chased and followed, no matter what the consequences bring us. The entire process of Wat bringing his group of friends to the Theatre place, and those quirky fantasies in the minds of the Akk, Aye, Kan and Thua, were quite dramatic and also enjoyable. After that, the preparation of the script along with the research from both the duos, was meaningful. It's like the central messages of the show were combined beautifully - the message on perspectives along with Wat's dream. They merged both the things cleverly.

Another dialogue from Akk, which struck me hard - while Kan and Akk were assuring Wat for his big day of Short Film Competition, Akk said that it was enriching and fortunate enough that Wat has got to follow his dream. That dialogue struck me super hard. I was like, damn that's right. It doesn't matter whether the dream of us succeeds at the end, what matters is the satisfaction and peace that we've done, we've tried to go after that dream atleast once in our life. I believe so too. We must follow or atleast try to chase the dreams we have, no matter how impossible it seems. Trying something never hurt anybody. Apart from that, I loved that constant support Wat got from Teacher Sani and his friends - they played a massive role in Wat's life, and if it taught us something - it is how we should never discourage anyone for their dreams, no matter what it is. Later on, when Wat won the award, I was genuinely so emotional, like that boy deserved it. He also got exposure to his favourite director P'Nut, which is far more ecstatic. In short, Wat's film played a huge role when it came down to the message of following your dream, because you love it.

3. Genuine Friendships

Real Friendships are dead rare to find in life. Let's be honest, how many friends do you have who truly have the best interest for you? Having a real friend in life is like winning half tha battle. Friends and family are always responsible for carving out your beliefs, morals, values and who you'd be becoming in the future. The beautiful friendship of Akk, Kan and Wat is outstanding, and when Aye, Thua and Namo joins the squad, it just becomes more fun, exciting and stronger. When it comes to our oldest trio; Akk, Kan and Wat - I absolutely adore their friendship.

Have you seen how different Akk is from Kan, and Kan is from Wat? Everyone in the friend squad is different, possessing different interests and goals in life. Technically from an objective perspective, you'd see they are incompatible. But then, what makes their friendship so strong and deep? The answer is respect, love and understanding. Yes, Wat loves indie films, which Akk and Kan aren't interested in. But what they do is encourage, motivate and assure his friend of his talent, and worth, and pushes him forward to follow that dream. They cheer for him, write scripts for him, eventhough they can do other things.

Now, that's what I call a true friend. No two people are completely similar - even the most compatible friends have severe differences, but what makes friendships beautiful is acceptance. You accept and love the person the way they are, and strive to make them their best, by constantly supporting them and wishing good-intent. Having a group of these friends is like a biggest blessing they could ever find. Aye helped Thua with his family issues, even though he didn't even know him well that time. But he still chose to help him.

That's why I call a good intent. Aye and Thua writing the script together and subtly hinting Akk, but not talking behind his back - it is another strong point how these friends are genuine and real. All of them wish the best for another, and it is just so fulfilling to see. When Namo, who is not an actual member of the group, was upset about his dating life - did you see how Akk and Aye were concerned and went to check on him? I truly adored that scene. It portrayed how they care for Namo too, who is not that close to them like others, but seeing Akk care for him, really melted my heart. If true friendship isn't this, then I don't know what is.

4. AkkAye Night Pool Scene

You've no idea how much I adored and enjoyed every second of Akkaye's night pool scene. The moment was private, intimate and romantic, all at the same time. Eventhough they were still having a their silent fight, but the moment was just wonderful - maybe because it felt so realistic, sweet and vulnerable altogether. Firstly, the setting is outstanding - the quiet night, along with the faint tint of dim lights from the rooms far away, and the soothing water sounds from the pool. Every aspect created a sensual and lovely ambiance for our couple. It began with Aye asking Akk to play the guitar, which created another air of romance. But Akk was still upset with Aye, so I was glad that he atleast subtly confronted him. Eventhough Aye didn't give a satisfactory answer, since he wanted to hide the surprise but the way he handled Akk was extremely heartwarming.

He knows how Akk is warm for his kisses and love, and simply uses it to calm him down. The moment was ethereal and natural - when Akk was reaching his edge and was about to cry while venting out, Aye held him and kissed him. That was the moment, I became freaking soft. In no time, Akk melted again, and the kiss was beautiful to witness. The remaining moment when Akk slept on Aye's lap, and kept playing around by calling him friend - it was such a fun and playful moment, packed with three passionate kisses. I kept repeating that part, it was so charming, romantic and also sensual with twist of fun - I lived for that thing. I absolutely love how Aye handles Akk, it's just so perfect. The last part when they both hugged and slept right near the pool till the morning, was adorable. They were all jittery and nervous once they woke up, being so obvious to their friends. The entire pool scene was one of the best moments in thr entire show, for me.

5. Aye's Surprise Song for Akk

Before I say anything else, let me begin by how mesmerising and heartwarming the song is. One of the best Osts I've ever heard in Thai BL shows, for sure. It is soothing, enchanting and most importantly full of heartfelt lyrics and soothing melody. This song will make your day easily. Now, coming back to the scene - it was so painful to see Akk feeling devasted on how Aye forgot his birthday while being in the club with his friends. To add more salt to the wound, Nami mentioned that Aye maybe meeting someone else - which obviously Akk wouldn't believe, but the way his insecurities are increasing, this man felt the worse that ever. He was completely hopeless at this point. Exactly then, the stage lights turned up and we could hear the guitar strings. Believe me, the joy and hope on Akk's face was everything I was looking for. The way he was relieved and cried emotionally while listening to Aye's song for him; I truly wanted to give that boy my entire heart and hug him so tight.

That part made me an emotional mess. I loved how Akk got to sing his part as well, I love his voice so much - that beautiful duo song was everything that i wanted after so much doubt, pain and insecurity on Akk's side. Finally, my babyboys have made peace among themselves and my Akk baby is now all assured. What could make me happier than this? But something did. The tiny, sweet kisses that Akk kept pestering on Aye made me the weakest. Such a pure love with so much endearment. I don't even know what to say, after this scene - everything just kept getting better and better. How Akk and Aye shared their old rule of one punch and one kiss, along with accepting each other as one another's space - every single thing freaking made me crazy, happy and giddy. I love them so damn much, it hurts.

6. The Love-Making Scene

The way the story of AkkAye ended - I think it was the most perfect way that this show could've ended. I'm sure nobody else can manufacture a better ending for these two than this one. From their sensual shower scene to their hot passionate making out one - my eyes had a total delicious feast of meal, and I'm all up for it. It's true that the scene will typically be remembered for their intimate moment, but I'd like to point out the amount of vulnerability it presented, which made the love-making more meaningful and deep. The shower scene was domestic and had the aura of a warm, cozy and home-like vibe where a couple is simply having a blast just being around one another.

I adored when they were drying one another's hair, playing guitar and just having a wonderful time together before going to bed. It was so satisfying to witness. Later on, another best moment was when my baby Akk asked Aye to tell he loved him; I was incredibly soft that time. Akk is someone who has a hard time asking something, or wondering if he's a burden to other people, he put other's needs first.

For someone like him to open up and ask something for himself was an achievement, indeed. Aye teased him and tried to delay his answer to that, which made Akk insecure once again. But I'm glad that Aye responded him with his actions - I absolutely loved that slow deep kiss from Aye with a soft 'I love you'. It truly spoke millions - the kiss seemed like a strong promise with lots of emotions packed with it. That's why I felt goosebumps in that moment. I won't lie but my heart was skipping the entire time. Akk was being extra playful when he denied to say it back and the expression on both of their faces was just iconic.

I cannot stress enough how much died at their kisses and making-of scene at the end - my heart was weak, and wasn't coping up well with those passionate lip kisses, thigh grabs and the sizzling chemistry. I could feel the tension right through the screen and I'm not complaining at all. It was such a rollercoaster journey to watch AkkAye evolve from their Suppalo days into this - I feel so freaking proud of them.

7. The Kisses and the Locations

The Locations of the episodes were stunning and gorgeous? The kisses from Akkaye were steamy, sexy and delicious? I don't know what else should I add on. Like, have you noticed how seductively they both kept kissing and making out at every gorgeous location of the episode? From the first shot in the Brokeback Mountain, to the to another one in that Bicycling Location where they wore caps. Like, please get a grip you two - they kept doing passionate kisses for long moments at every beautiful scene, which constantly made my heart flutter. The scene where they were running and chasing one another at the flower field - I was so freaking soft the entire time, there was a lovely cheek kiss from Aye, but the rest of it was adorable, packed with pastel aesthetic and fluff moments.

Their smiling faces with so much happiness and love was all I needed for making my day. Even if we rule out the locations, the cinematography was on point. It was soothing, soft and absolutely ethereal witness. The club where Aye sang with Akk, or the Movie Theatre location where Wat won his award - all of the places and locations were worth watching the episodes. Especially, how can I not mention the trip place where they stayed in their rooms. The magnetic night time under the moonlight near the pool, I love everything about this show. I don't know what to say anymore, I'd probably peace out now.

I'd truly miss AkkAye with the bottom of my heart, until I witness SanRay again. The characters, the show, the deep raw emotions - everything that this series has brought to the table is a masterpiece and has set high standards for future bl shows. All I want to say is this show has given me enormous happiness and joy. I want to FirstKhao to keep getting versatile roles in many more series in the future; whether as a couple or individually. I just want my babies to shine brighter and keep getting ahead in life.

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douxie-casperan · 3 years ago

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Rise of the Titans and the assassination Hisirdoux Casperan’s character development

I’ve been ranting so much since Wednesday morning that I finally condensed by thoughts of WHY this one subject keeps setting me off namely the utterly diabolical way they handled Douxie and Archie’s relationship in Rise of the Titans and how it wasn’t just enough to hit him with the nerf bat.

Please note I’m at the point where I literally cannot tell the difference between Aaron headcanons, Teny headcanons and my own they are all mixed together in the blender that does funky things. I also apologise for typo/weird wording it’s half 1 in the morning and I’d rather sleep than edit.

If asked to sum up Hisirdoux Casperan there are certainly several things that come to mind:

Sees the value in people as a whole and will find do anything if there is a chance of help someone out

Prefers tactics that disable/banish rather than kill an enemy yet willing and able to pull the trigger if circumstances become forced

While not academically inclined he is very capable of thinking on his feet and outside the box calling back to his time on the streets where a split-second decision making is the difference between being caught and not

Terrible at planning he’ll be in there figuring it out as he goes along which is what makes the previous point so vital to literally how he goes through life

A natural charmer that would let him talk his way out of trouble 9/10 providing a perfect cover for his distrustful nature and reluctance to be touched by random people

Very down to earth, humble and never one to brag unless outright sassing someone

Will bang out some hot tunes at the drop of a hat, his love of music has never wavered once since he caught the bug despite instrument hopping ironically becoming a jack of all trades much like his magic style

The earliest memories he can recall are him as a young boy lost in the woods where he was for an unknown amount of time before his soon to be familiar finds him amongst the roots covered in dirt and drying tears, there is nothing before that. Unbeknownst to him is the colour of his magic matches the blue of a lost mother’s eyes and the song that haunts his nightmares as much as fire could well be hers though there is no way to be sure. From that moment on Archibald, shortened to Archie, would become his entire world and their friendship only becoming closer during the years they prowled Camelot together trying to keep themselves in one piece until the fateful day Douxie tricks the wrong person leading him straight into the path of the famous wizard Merlin Ambrosius.

It's no real secret that Merlin is a very closed off person who keeps his emotions as well guarded as his secrets, prefers the style of negative reinforcement over positive encouragement and is a very strict perfectionist in his. At this point in his life he can be very easily described as a disaster that is genuinely doing his best with every little mistake held of his head and his future self when brought back to that time period is belittled by Lancelot (Errand boy) and Arthur (Boy) too meaning it’s hardly a wonder his confidence was very fragile revelling in the times where he could do things without being told off for it. With Morgana largely ignoring him too (Though personally I like to think as he got older she’d occasionally take an interest until the blistering arguments with their master started to talk over daily life) a certain disguised dragon would have remained a lifeline and give that physical affection he craved much like being told he’d done well never seemed able to earn.

With Killahead he’d lose that home and family he made leaving just the two of them behind struggling to figure out their place in the world that had abandoned them.

There wouldn’t have been the words for it back then but the way he had been treated prior was outright abusive instilling very bad habits into Douxie yet by irony he was always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt and help those in trouble without thinking earning a reputation as the Shepard of Fire. He refused to become like him seeking to be better, perhaps not as a wizard (Even though he was learning new charms and spells along the way) but certainly as a person. Despite everything he suffers through or witnesses in the intervening years, the loss of friends and kindling of far newer ones he never loses his good heart

That said is it any wonder that after rightfully sassing Merlin for resurfacing, ignoring his existence despite being in the same town and only visiting him to run a finding errand that all the confidence he’d managed to build completely from scratch after Camelot wavered causing him to fall back solely into trying impressing his old Master who was acting like his humble apprentice must have coasted the past few centuries who himself fell back into old habits of belittling? It’s only when Merlin started to truly listen and acknowledge that this was not the same Moppet he once knew after Excalibur was fixed that their relationship finally started to become more like equals. After the defeat of Janus the changeling that broke into the castle he touched Douxie’s shoulder with a genuine smile and for a second he simply didn’t know what to do because the old man never did this before his brain kicked into gear and realised he’d finally earned that one thing he’d been so desperate for his entire life: That in Merlin’s eyes he could be more than a failure who only caused problems for the closest thing to a father figure he’d ever had, never solved them.

A staff will be earned, history would be set back on trap by banishing Morgana tag teaming with Archie because they know one another inside and out, as promised he’d get the kids back to the present but soon after things would go badly wrong. They’d lose Jim and because of his very nature he’d make a gamble to try and get him back because that life is worth trying for just for in a moment of surprising selflessness Merlin would be sacrificed to save him. The only constant in his life apart from Archie would apologise, openly express pride and how the greatest thing he’d ever done was saving this orphan, call him son for the first and final time before turning into ash in his arms. There would be no time to grieve for things will barrel into the crescendo of Douxie sacrificing his own life to buy everyone time to escape because if they did that everything he’d ever done would be worth it with one last whispered goodbye.

(Zoe sees him fall, so does Archie – His heart would break if he was conscious just like theirs does when his body crumples into the ground)

On the very fringes of the Light Realm he is gifted one more conversation with Merlin in a truly heart-breaking sequence (THANKS TENY) where they can just talk without any fear of consequence or politics and just be completely honest. Douxie is allowed to stand equal to Merlin, to have the hug he’d needed since he was a child and be allowed to simply let go of every pretense and cry his heart out because this can never happen again. He’s allowed to say goodbye to both his master and Morgana who had both shaped so very much of his life but like the painting he’d always remained firmly in the long shadows of until that moment.

When Hisirdoux Casperan finally leaves Wizards if we just accidently deliberately put the shawarma back in along with checking in with Zoe before departure, it is with having learned to live during his wandering years but this is the point of true freedom because he can finally escape into his own light with Archie by his side to keep Nari out of the hands of those that would see the world harmed. It won’t be easy but it feels possible somehow even with the knowledge everything is simply running on borrowed time.

Then Rise of the Titans happens.

At first everything is genuinely fine! No more running, they engineer a solution shut the Order’s magic down to make them a lot less dangerous and potentially at least incapacitate them until they can come up with a longer-term solution but all the best laid plans and all that. Douxie’s quick thinking stops the train from crushing any of the people below and it’s a very him style move to switch places with Nari to stall for time because for some reason the plot disabled Claire from portaling her or any of the threatened people/heroes to safety. He openly sasses the Order despite knowing the consequences will be bad for him because once again he’s managed to trick them, buy time that at the other end isn’t even slightly utilised until he’s forced back into his own body in excruciating pain. Archie immediately mobs him with comfort just as he has done every single time the wizard is distressed or collapsed with exhaustion without thinking because that is what their bond is like, incredibly close and far more than the Soul Bond mark that connects them together. They’re very alike in that regard, you have to earn the right to touch while equally knowing exactly what form the other needs the most in that precise moment in a way very few others could.

Bar the moment of figuring out that an illusion is in place to hide where the Order is opening the Genesis Seals and the brief insistence on reconnecting with Nari somehow Douxie manages to forget everything that makes him who he is after this point choosing to stand in the background being very no thoughts head empty or can only use the most basic spells of his youthful days not the seasoned master wizard he should be. Nomura is treated like an innocent slip rather than an outright death he did absolutely nothing to prevent (Not to mention the stupid daytime thing) nor seems to care particularly about afterwards yet with Nari’s he’s allowed to openly grieve in a gorgeously animated visual showing how he’d failed to keep her safe despite everything. He did nothing to help here either mind despite allowing himself to be tortured in the same piece of media to keep her safe, just watched another loss happen right in front of his eyes in his conga long line of them.

Then there’s Archie, oh god then there was Archie.

The dragon who even here he’d been shown to have an incredibly close bond with him decides you know what sod that tell him goodbye I’m going to make a joke about having a kingdom now dad and me are trapped in here forever. Douxie on his part looked sad for all of three seconds saying that he hoped he’s happy like it's a pet that wandered out into the world one day and never came back instead of a lifelong companion that has been there for as long as he can remember. He was now completely alone in the world since Zoe was also written out entirely and because every bit of his background had been forgotten about it somehow meant nothing. This wasn’t “I know you miss him, I know you need to grieve but you are running out of time” moment like things had been with Charlie, this was “cool shapeshifting dragon cat is now stuck in a plot hole that’s a shame” with zero pay off or any of the genuine reaction that should have been there or hell even trying to Ohana him back that very second because it never should have happened in the first place. Then even this wasn’t enough somehow, they managed to de-power Douxie even further into uselessness bar the (Admittedly nifty!) sticky feet stunt, the one who fought Skrael and Bellroc to a stalemate was shunted aside with barely a thought and his head would somehow get even emptier.

The one person who knew the danger of time magic the most stood by and said nothing.

The one person who would suffer the most by a reset because the lynchpin to his issues would be asleep if you got it wrong and should have drilled it into Jim’s head the best time to aim for stood by and said nothing.

The one person who had just suffered the loss of his familiar, best friend and only family along with the almost sister like Nari stood by and said nothing.

Then to add further insult to injury the caption when Douxie and Archie is shown says Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation because every drop of his character growth, his ability to finally start addressing his trauma instilled back in the 12th century, the staff he longed for was instead openly mocked by going “Aww he got his cat friend back how nice!” Everything he’d rightfully earned and had now would be unable to progress until certain criteria are met because it hinges entirely on the Trollhunter going to Merlin’s tomb and there’s only so much your support network of two (One if she’s written out) can do, the root of the majority of his issues all stem from one man.

And this folks is why I’ve been going on multiple rants about Douxie in particular, everyone was hit with the out of character bat to some degree in this film but when they came for him they didn’t just stop after they took his legs out because they wanted him to suffer from something he’s never had any control over to begin with all over again. Abuse survivors deserve better, these characters deserve better and we as viewers deserve far far better writing than we were forced to endure.

#Ooc - Behind the curtains #Rise of the Titans #Rise of the Titans spoilers #RotT Spoilers #RoT spoilers #Wizards #Tales of Arcadia #ToAWizards #Hisirdoux Casperan #Douxie Casperan

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nightashes · 5 years ago

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We’re Monsters. Isn’t It Fun? - Chapter 1

Masterlist - Next

A/N: This is for @stop-it-anxiety ‘s Fall Fic Contest. Prompt used was “Monster”. Figured October 1st would be the perfect time to post this!

Warnings: Spooky dark stuff in like an Addam’s Family the movies type way.

Summary: The dark sides love the scary things in life. They thrill in scaring each other. Deceit raised his kid sides, Remus and Virgil, to be proud of this. And then they met the light sides...

***

His prey in sight, he crept along. Crouched close to the ground. His lips pulled back in a snarl as he prepared to pounce. Launching onto the sitting figure, he roared loudly, “Be afraid! Be very Afraid!”

“Oh no! You got me!” Deceit dramatically bemoaned as he fell backwards onto the couch. Virgil landed softly on his chest, doing his best scary face as he hissed at his victim. Dee chuckled, smirking up at his son with fondness in his eyes. “Truly a terrifying monster.”

Virgil smiled triumphantly, “I scared you, Dad!”

A sound of rushing footsteps is heard as another figure sped wildly into the room. “Monster! Where’s a monster?” Remus shouted excitedly. He ran around the living room, looking for the fearsome beast.

Virgil stood up on top of Dee, causing the parental side to groan in pain. “I’m the monster! I’m the scariest thing in the mind palace!” He threw his hands into the air, causing lightning to flash behind him. “Hahahaha.” He attempted to top it off with his best impersonation of an evil laugh, which in reality was just a slightly deeper version of his normal laugh.

Dee scooped his son up, standing with a yell. “I’ve caught you!”

Remus ran to grab onto Dee’s legs, “I’m a monster too! Let my brother go, you hideous knight! Together we’ll roast you up and eat your entrails!” Remus attempted to gnaw on Deceit’s legs.

“Augh!” Deceit feigned pain. “You’ve killed me.” He collapsed to the ground still holding Virgil close to his chest. “What am I to do against two vicious beasts such as yourselves.”

“We won!” Remus shrieked happily. Virgil was clinging to Dee’s caplet after falling to the ground with him.

Remus grabbed onto Virgil’s arm. “Come on, V! Let’s go into the imagination and kill some knights!”

“I just want to scare them.” He mumbled as he crawled off of Deceit, following Remus out of the living room.

“Remus. Virgil. I know you two aren’t planning to go into the imagination without your weapons. Are you?”

“I got ‘em, Dad.” Remus whined. “It’s no fun without them.”

“We’ll be safe, Dad!” Virgil grinned happily.

Deceit eyed them skeptically. “I totally trust you brats. And I know that you guys are going to stay in the Dark Forest. Because if you don’t the light sides will find you, and make you take a bath.” He pointed at Remus, who shuddered at the thought. “And sing cherry songs.” He sneered at Virgil’s horror stricken face.

“Noooo!!” Remus cried loudly and ran off to his room.

Virgil jumped and scrambled after him. “Wait for me!”

Deceit laughed maniacally as he watched his kids scramble off towards the imagination.

***

“Mary, Mary, Quite contrary.

How does your garden grow?

With silver bells, and cockle shells,

And pretty maids all in a row.”

Remus swung his morning star in wide overarching circles singing loudly about bloody mary as Virgil crouched above him, watching from his perch in a tree. His grin was creeping ever wider as he eyed his brother, readying a leap of attack when…

“Are you sure about this, Roman?”

His ears perked up at the strange voice. “Remus, quiet!” He hissed out.

Remus cut off his singing, cocking an eyebrow up at his brother. “What’s up?”

“There’s people. They’re in our forest!” Virgil held tightly onto the tree as he leaned towards the direction of sound. His sharp hearing picked up another voice.

“It’s fine, Patt. I got a sword. Anything comes close and wham, bam!”

“Let’s kill ‘em.” Remus happily bounced below him.

Virgil nodded in thought. “We gotta scare ‘em off before Dad finds out.”

Virgil swung down from the tree landing softly beside his brother. And together the two dark sides ran through the forest, Virgil leading the way as they headed towards the sound of the intruders. Bounding past the shadowy inhabitants of the woods. Running past trees covered in cobwebs, caves with echoes that sounded eerily like wailing, and a stream that ran bright red.

The brothers slowed down as the strangers’ voices became clearer. They crouched down side by side, hidden behind bushes watching their prey enter their field of vision.

“They look like us.” Virgil whispered into Remus’ ear.

‘Light sides.’ Remus mouthed back. His eyes blown wide.

Virgil narrowed his eyes at the trespassers. How dare the light sides come into their domain. Nobody was going to make him sing happy songs. Although, perhaps Remus could use a bath.

Virgil gestured to Remus to go around. The foul side nodded knowingly and slunk away, keeping low to the ground. Virgil eyed the apparent light sides as he waited for Remus to get into position. There were two of them and they seemed to be the same age as Remus and Virgil. One dressed like a prince, how nice, was haphazardly brandishing a katana. The other must have been terrified already. He was jumping at every noise, wringing his hands and biting his lip as he spoke to his companion.

“Dad says we shouldn’t be here, Roman. Can’t we please go back. I’m scared,” He was visibly shaking.

“That’s silly! I am here so you have nothing to fear! We’re gonna defeat the evil of this forest and return as heroes!” This Roman stood proudly, his sword thrust high into the air. Virgil was confused. Heroes were the ones the monsters defeated. Why did he want to be a hero? It was much more fun to be a monster.

The leaves rustled in front of the pair. “Careful, Patton, it might be a scary monster.”

The signal. Remus was in position. Virgil launched himself into the open, he tackled the scared one, growling down at his face. “ScArY LiKe tHiS!” Virgil shouted. His voice doubling deeper and darker than it had ever gone before. Remus in the same instance came launching into view, swinging his morningstar straight at Roman’s face. The light side managed to duck away. Remus used his own demonic voice to screech at the top of his lungs. His eyes glowing red and the light bending around him.

“LeAvE nOw oR DIE. yOu’Re iN ThE pReSeNcE oF tHe DEMENTED.” Remus shrieked as he swung his morning star. Roman attempted to block it with his sword, but the morning star merely knocked it out of his hands.

Virgil was giddy. Remus had fantastic control over his voice and now Virgil was gaining his own. He smiled down at his prey, ready to boast of his achievement. But Patton was crying. Tears were streaming down his face as he looked at Virgil in utter terror. And suddenly, being scary seemed wrong. Bile rose in his throat. What had he done? He had made the light side cry? Being scary was fun but... this wasn’t fun. This was terrible. Scrambling off of Patton, and putting distance between them. He sat there on the ground, his mouth agape in silent apologies. Remus paused his rampage to watch in confusion.

“Virgil?” Remus spoke softly. His voice having returned to normal.

“I scared him.”

“Yeah. That’s what we do. Scaring is fun.”

“FUN!” Roman interrupted. Panting from his attempts to dodge Remus’ attacks. “You think this is fun? You guys are mean!” Roman’s previous bravito abandoned. His hands trembled, his body curled in on himself. “You guys are monsters!”

Patton sat up and Roman ran to hug him close. Patton said nothing. But his eyes remained locked on Virgil. And then the dam broke and he cried out. “Daddy!!” Roman buried his face into Patton’s shoulder and they hugged each other close. Remus came over to stand beside Virgil.

“I don’t get it. What did we do wrong?” He asked him. Virgil said nothing. Only silently stood beside his brother. Remus wrapped his arm around him. Trying his best to comfort his brother, despite not knowing the cause of his distress.

“Patton! Roman!” A voice shouted through the woods. Running footsteps thudded against the forest floor as a sprinting figure rushed towards the shaken group.

“Daddy!” Patton cried again. Roman looked hopeful as he watched the man come into view.

Remus grimaced. “Another intruder.”

The figure, another side, hesitated for only a second before crouching down by the crying light sides and wrapping them in his arms. “Shhh.. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Virgil shifted on his feet self-consciously. An adult light side. They were in real trouble now.

The man looked over at the two hesitant brothers. His gaze was like ice. “What happened here?”

“They scared us.” Patton cries.

“That monster tried to kill me, Dad!” Roman bellowed pointing at Remus.

“I’ll handle it.” The man spoke with care. Standing, he loomed over the child dark sides. His eyes locked onto Remus.

“Your weapon, now.” The man held out his hand.

“NO! Dad says we can’t be in the dark forest without ‘em.” Remus defended, gripping tight onto his beloved morning star.

“And where is Deceit? I would like to talk with him about your behavior today.” His voice rang with authority.

“We didn’t do anything! They’re just being babies.” Remus complained.

The man was not impressed. He peered down at them through his black spectacles. “You terrified them. You made Roman think you were going to kill him. I know you dark sides have a warped sense of fun, but when you torment my children that is crossing a line. A line you do not come back from. If you ever bother my children again… You will have to answer to me.”

“Dark sides?” Roman whispered, pulling back in shock.

“This is unfair! You are the ones that came into our forest!” Remus was growing increasingly agitated. He must really hate this new side. Virgil wasn’t particularly fond of him either. He was making him feel wrong. Was it bad to be a dark side?

“That is not a valid excuse for terror-”

“Daddy! I want to go home!” Patton broke through the shouting.

The light side straightened his shoulders. “I will be escorting my charges back now. I expect you two to return to your own commons. And I will be calling Deceit about your behavior here today.”

Virgil and Remus watched the light sides leave their forest. Remus shouting at their retreating backs to “Stay out of our forest!”

Virgil only turned away. Trudging back through the Dark Forest and towards Remus’s door.

Arriving home, Remus ran to the commons, excited to tell Dee all about their adventures. Virgil followed slowly behind only to stop short upon seeing Dee yelling into the phone. “Well. the brats shouldn’t have been in dark side territory… No! If they don’t want to be scared than they shouldn’t have been idiotic enough to go monster hunting in the Dark Forest!”

Monster hunting? Virgil thought. These light sides really thought that way about monsters.

“Oh please! You know we can’t get hurt. Let alone die!... It’s not my fault Roman doesn’t know that!” Dee was continuing. Remus shuffled up to his dad. Staring up at the man with a grin, bouncing on his toes as he waited for Deceit to be done.

Virgil didn’t want to wait. He just wanted to be alone. He sunk down to his room and landed softly onto his bed. Virgil grabbed his blanket and rolled across his mattress, enveloping his small form in a blanket burrito. Ending face down, he sighed into his pillow. What happened back there?

Deceit had always taught them to be proud of being a dark side. He read them spooky stories and was delighted when they played monster. It was always so much fun being a monster. But now, Virgil just felt sad. He didn’t know if he wanted to be a dark side anymore. He didn’t want to be bad. And the light sides were terrified of him. Did that make him bad?

He shifted to his side and curled his legs up to his chest. He closed his eyes to the world. Virgil had always been scary but he didn’t want to be bad. Was scary bad?

***

A soft knock awoke Virgil. He blinked tiredly, glancing around his room. When had he fallen asleep?

“Virgil.” Deceit’s voice called through the door.

“Dad?”

Deceit slipped into the room. Spying Virgil curled up on his bed, the fatherly side made his way over to sit beside him. Settling in place, Deceit sighed as he looked down at the young anxious side. He reached over and gently brushed Virgil’s hair back from his forehead. “How you doing, Spider?”

Virgil tucked his chin down, looking away from Deceit in answer.

“I’m sorry they yelled at you, bud.”

Virgil studied the stitch in his blanket.

“Remus told me your voice warped. That’s truly horrid news.” Deceit’s smile was evident in his words. But it only made Virgil angry.

“Horrid is bad, Dad! And not fun bad. It’s bad bad.” He huffed.

His father’s eyebrows knit together. “Did the light sides say that? Did they say you were bad?”

“They said we were mean. They said we were scary and Patton cried. We’re monsters. Monsters a- are ba-ad.” Virgil whispered into the dark of his room. His words choking at the end. He bit his lips and willed the tears not to come. He didn’t want to cry.

“Now that’s a blatant lie and I should know. There are plenty of good monsters. I know you know this. Just look at the Yeti. And what about Arabella?” Deceit spoke, pointing to Virgil’s pet spider nestled happily in her terrarium.

“What about her?”

“Well, spiders scare a lot of people because they look different. But that doesn’t make them bad does it?”

“No… Arabella is a good spider.”

“And you are a good side. If you ever doubt that I want you to think about Arabella and then I want you to come find me. I’ll always be there for you, my spider.”

#janus sanders #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #sanders sides #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus #sympathetic dark sides #mama bear logan #mama bear deceit #dad!logan #dad!deceit #ts fanfic #fanfic #my writing #sanders sides fic

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beca-mitchell · 5 years ago

Text

a twist, a tale, a rip through my sail (1/1)

Summary: Beca goes to visit Chloe in Atlanta.

Word Count: 2,266

Part of now i see daylight—an au series that was created alongside @asimplefavors and explores beca and chloe’s lives together as if they had been childhood friends.

Warnings for references to sex. And angst, unfortunately.

Read below or on AO3.

Age: 19 Atlanta, GA August

* * * * *

“Hey Bec, I think I must have just missed you...call me back when you can.”

“Hi Beca, I just wanted to call to say that I missed you. And I love you. Hope we can talk soon.”

“You just got back on the plane, but I miss you already, Chloe.”

“Bec, I don’t think I can swing coming to L.A. this weekend...it’s a lot of money. Call me back?”

“I’m trying not to be jealous of dumb tabloid stuff, I really am, but...just call me back, Beca.”

“Chlo, I know you said you were busy with school, but please let me know if you can give this song a listen. I think you’ll really like it. Love you.”

“I had a dream about you. Felt like you were right there. I miss you so much.”

* * * * *

What do endings feel like?

Beca feels it in the air between them the moment she comes face to face with Chloe at the airport. All the usual happiness upon seeing her girlfriend is still there, but God, it’s all the other things she feels—the intense foreboding, the anxiety, the dread—that make her slow her steps as she nears Chloe who is leaning against a pole, evidently watching something on her phone.

She had felt it while she had been on the plane, but now, standing on the ground next to her girlfriend of three and a half years, she knows it is real.

“Hi,” Beca greets quietly, smiling nonetheless when she sees Chloe’s eyes lift and brighten upon catching sight of her.

Chloe immediately wraps her in a hug, nothing new. Beca squeezes back, sighing happily at the warmth Chloe brings to her immediately. She feels Chloe tighten her hold similarly.

Everything is so familiar.

Chloe pulls back. “Hi,” she greets back, finally. She cups Beca’s cheek, leaning in to kiss her gently. “I missed you.”

Beca smiles despite the sensation in her stomach. “I missed you too,” she mumbles, eagerly leaning up to ignite another kiss.

Everything is fine.

* * * * *

It had started with a few missed dates. Many missed dates. Angry voice mails.

Beca recalls each one now that she sits next to Chloe in the passenger seat of her car—a familiar car with many memories—and with each memory, anxiety gnaws at the back of her mind.

She resists the urge to reach across the console to place her hand on Chloe’s thigh even though she longs desperately for that closeness.

Chloe doesn’t look at her once the whole drive home.

* * * * *

It feels so routine—everything is routine, right down to Beca dropping her bag just inside the door to Chloe’s room, kicking the door closed with her heel, and immediately being pulled into Chloe’s arms for a deep, messy kiss. The kind of kiss that still makes Beca’s stomach twist in anticipation even after so many similar kisses.

Sex is routine now, especially with how little they see each other. Beca barely gets her shirt off before Chloe is pulling her jeans down, pulling her underwear down and licking through her folds like no tomorrow. It makes Beca gasp and moan and make every sound imaginable. That is a skill only Chloe possesses, the skill to be able to draw those sounds out of Beca like art.

Beca grasps Chloe’s hair forcefully, keeping her girlfriend’s face between her legs as she rides out her orgasm, grunting as she does so. Vaguely she realizes that Chloe’s clothes are still on, even as Chloe carries her to the bed and spreads her legs once more, her fingers doing the work this time.

“I missed you so much,” Chloe rasps into Beca’s ear. Beca’s hands grab at the fabric of Chloe’s shirt. “I missed you,” Chloe repeats, breath hot against Beca’s ear.

Eyes falling shut at the sensation of Chloe’s lips trailing along her ear and her fingers curling into her aching cunt, Beca tells herself that it means I love you. Beca tries to tell herself that all of this means I love you. I want to be with you. I love you.

I love you.

“I missed you too,” she mumbles, eyes slipping shut at the sensation of Chloe adding another finger.

She feels full.

Almost complete.

* * * * *

Chloe’s arm curls over her waist in the middle of the night. They sleep, pressed closely together. Like two peas in a pod, Chloe used to joke.

Beca breathes in deeply, holding Chloe’s arm against her in fear that she might let go. She wonders if Chloe has already let go, somehow. In the same ways Beca feels herself floundering.

But being in Chloe’s arms feels so right—feels like everything that Beca has ever been missing is right…there.

She presses Chloe’s arm tighter against herself, maneuvering it so she can clutch Chloe’s hand close to her chest.

Chloe mumbles in her sleep and presses closer, bare skin sticking to Beca’s. It is not uncomfortable. Rather, it is quite the opposite. It makes her feel whole, like a reminder that Chloe is there—that Chloe has always been there.

Emotion swells in Beca’s chest as her mind betrays her once more, playing back every last argument and fight they’ve had over the past little while.

To Beca, it had seemed like they recovered each time, but the scars would always remain.

Don’t let go, Beca thinks. Please.

To her credit, Chloe doesn’t. Not immediately, at least. She holds Beca close like she always has, lips pressed loosely against Beca’s shoulder, her neck. Breath hot against her neck. Even in sleep, Chloe had always managed to make Beca feel whole.

Don’t let go, she thinks again. Nearly begging.

Chloe does eventually. She lets go, early in the morning as Beca blinks awake, wondering if she got any sleep at all. She yawns, stretches, turning onto her back.

Beca immediately follows, rolling over to face Chloe to surprise her with a morning kiss.

Silently, Chloe responds, pulling Beca closer in the warmth of her dorm-sanctioned bed. Chloe’s lips part. Hot, wanting breath against Beca’s mouth.

She could say it, Beca thinks. Either of them could.

It just feels so much easier to pull Chloe on top of her. It just feels easier to have Chloe want her like this.

Simple.

* * * * *

It feels like a normal weekend. In fact, it should be a normal weekend. Beca is free from the confines of Los Angeles and happy to face relative anonymity in the sprawling spaces of Atlanta and Barden University. But the heavy weight of the turmoil clouding their relationship becomes near unbearable to Beca even as she nestles comfortably into Chloe’s side.

Chloe says nothing—it occurs to Beca that Chloe has said very little all weekend—and simply wraps her arm around Beca, like it is so natural.

Like it’s a habit.

“Are we okay?” Beca finally asks when her heart and mind can no longer take it. It is late on Saturday night and she is pressed closely to Chloe while they quietly watch a random Netflix show.

Watch is a loose term. Beca feels like she has been gazing despondently at the screen for the better part of the hour and based on the stiffness of Chloe’s arm around her, she figures Chloe is more or less the same.

She regrets asking immediately. She almost wishes she had kept her mouth shut just to pretend a few moments longer. She could just take it back, she could just let it all go. Just clamp her mouth shut and forget it all. But the regret is so heavy because now she knows. It is so different from mere belief or mere speculation. Knowledge, ever powerful, is her undoing.

She regrets it because Chloe hesitates. Chloe has never hesitated or been less than forthcoming in her responses to Beca. Beca cannot recall a time when Chloe’s blunt honesty hadn’t played a role in some part of their interactions with each other.

But now, Chloe hesitates and her body seems to stiffen even more. There is pain in that hesitation, enough pain for the both of them.

That hesitation is enough. It is enough to make the anvil finally sink in Beca’s stomach.

And finally, because Chloe has always been honest with her no matter the circumstance, she opens her mouth and breathes out the simple syllables of Beca’s name. Like it might be the last time ever.

This is the end. This is what it feels like.

* * * * *

The end goes something like this:

“Stop,” Beca says immediately, regretting everything from the beginning to the end. “Wait, I didn’t—”

“Beca,” Chloe repeats, sounding even more pained than before. “This isn’t working, you know it isn’t.”

“It is,” Beca insists. She refuses to cry. “I’m just tired, I just—I didn’t mean it—”

“Beca, stop,” Chloe murmurs.

“You stop,” Beca mumbles back, losing some of the fight in her when Chloe reaches for her hands. She marvels at how soft and warm Chloe’s hands are, wondering when the last time was that she had felt—really, truly felt—the warmth of Chloe’s hands wrapped around her own. “Stop,” she repeats quietly.

“I’m not doing anything,” Chloe promises.

“You’re breaking up with me,” Beca says, finally putting the words out there in the open. “You’ve been breaking up with me for a while.”

At that, Chloe flinches and draws back. Beca forces her body to remain still. “I haven’t been doing that. That’s not fair. We both know this hasn’t been working for a while, but we both tried, Beca. I know we did.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are we...doing this?” The 'we' slips out. Beca doesn't even correct herself because she recognizes the lack of fight in her own emotions.

“It hurts so much being apart from you,” Chloe whispers. “And even having you here, it’s not like you’re here at all." Chloe is quiet for a moment. "...and I think we just need some space to—”

Beca squeezes her eyes shut and barely refrains from putting her hands over her ears to block out the sounds Chloe is making. It sounds like a distant roaring in her ears, but she knows better: it is the sound of her world crumbling down around her.

To her credit, Chloe doesn’t finish her sentence. Beca doesn't know what to do. Chloe is crying, but so gently and softly that Beca's arms feel too leaden to be worthy of reaching up to brush her tears away. The truth of the situation is that Chloe likely has no idea what to say either; she likely is hurting as much as Beca is, but she has always been the strong one.

It feels like a disservice to Chloe if Beca didn’t begrudgingly admit that Chloe is probably right for initiating this conversation now. It doesn’t hurt any less—it doesn’t make Beca feel any less of a failure despite Chloe’s reassurance that it was both of them who needed space.

It hurts the most that Chloe is right.

Chloe is still speaking, a quiet, gentle tone for Beca’s benefit. Beca simply nods, too numb to do much else. Chloe speaks of Beca's immeasurable talent, her growing fame, all the ways Beca needs to grow without Chloe.

A part of Beca wants to laugh at that because she has spent her entire life growing with Chloe. It seems kind of a waste to just...not do that anymore.

The other part thinks maybe there is some truth in the things Chloe is saying (and maybe in the things Chloe isn't explicitly saying). That's the part that had seen this coming. Beca should have listened.

Somewhere along the line, she reaches out to hold Chloe’s hand for what she’s sure will be her last time.

Somewhere along the line, Chloe tells her she loves her. That she’s in love with her.

Beca finds it in her to speak, forcing away the memories of her own parents’ divorce. Of the pain and loneliness. “I love you too,” she murmurs.

It is still the easiest and most honest thing to say.

* * * * *

Ultimately, it wasn’t the end that crept up on Beca. Not entirely.

It is the loneliness that sneaks up on her. It had crept up on her, unbidden, then latched itself somewhere in the back of her mind without her knowledge. Somewhere between Chloe saying “I think we should break up” and the airport and the car ride home, loneliness had crept into every available space in her body.

She doesn’t realize it until she reaches home and drops her bag heavily by the door in an almost exact mirror of how she had dropped her bag in Chloe’s room a mere three days ago. Or had it been two?

Beca supposes that it doesn’t matter.

Her apartment air feels stale. She takes in a deep breath, wondering if it had always been like that or if she had only thought nothing of it because she had lived in a world where she had a Chloe Beale to eventually return to.

Now, there’s just this.

With a shaking hand, she reaches for her phone and presses her mother’s contact on impulse. It feels like something she ought to do—something that a child should do when she’s been devastated by incomparable heartbreak.

Her mother will know what to do, her mother can help, her mother can—

“Hi, you’ve reached Diane. Unfortunately I can’t—”

She isn’t sure what she expected, but she isn’t even surprised.

Beca finally lets herself cry.

fin.

*see more of this universe—now i see daylight.*

#bechloe #fanfiction #pitch perfect #now i see daylight #mine #my fanfic #queue

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savedbystyle · 4 years ago

Text

cruel summer (b.b)

pairing: highschool!bucky barnes x reader

warning: angst, death of major character

summary: falling in love was scary, but thrilling especially when it was with bucky barnes

a/n: this is the second part to the lover series!!! i have received such positive feedback about i forgot that you existed and OMG it makes me incredibly happy:) also i know that during the times bucky went to high school it was all white students BUT that would suggest a white reader, and my aim is to make the reader as fitting to YOU as possible. I get it i’m indian and the pain, but yeah so were just gonna pretend were in those times but with todays diversity:)

song: cruel summer by taylor swift

gif credits to original creator

****

Fever dream high In the quiet of the night You know that I caught it

You were walking through the halls with your friends June and Sara, careful not to bump into anyone. “I can’t believe that you and Connor are going out Sara” June said with a big smile on her face. “Oh for lord’s sake June, calm down its not that big of a deal” “Oh Sara darling, it IS! I mean Connor is one of the most well known boys in school plus he’s as cute as a bug’s ear”

You laugh at the banter between June and Sara when you accidentally bump into someone.You bend down to pick up your books, but not before someone does it for you. You stand up and look at the attractive man standing in front of you. Your eyes meet the steel blue eyes in front of you. “I’m sorry doll, didn’t mean to hurt ya there. I’m Bucky” you smiled at him “I know, Bucky. My name is y/n, thanks for helping me” You smiled at the attractive man in front of you and made your way back to your gaping friends. “That was-” June paused “Bucky Barnes” Sara completed for her friend. “Oh stop it you’re gonna get flies in your mouth. He’s just a boy, now come on we gotta get to our class” What you didn’t notice was Bucky staring at you and your friends, a small smile etched onto his face.

Bad, bad boys Shiny toy with a price You know that I bought it

Throughout the week, you never saw Bucky again. It didn’t bother you, but you didn’t mind seeing that gorgeous face of his. Your class had just ended and it was time to go home. You were walking home when you heard someone shout behind you. You turned around to see Bucky, running towards you with a smile on his face. “Hey there doll” he said panting, trying to catch his breath. “Hello James, what is it?” He raised his eyebrow when you called him James, but excused it. “You’re such a pretty dame you know that” He said, smiling even bigger when he saw the blush take over your face.

“Thank you James, but you’re not here to tell me that are you?” “No doll, uh, I was wondering if you’d let me take you out sometime?” Your heart skipped a beat, but you doubted the words considering you’ve never talked to him before. “This ain’t a joke, is it James cause that wouldn’t be very nice” “No, I promise doll. Let me take you out” You looked up at his face and noticed the genuine look “Fine. This Friday after class, alright? I got Miss Jamie last” You left him on the side of the road, continuing your walk home, smiling and excited about your date.

Killing me slow, out the window I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below

It was Friday, and you were tapping your foot anxiously, waiting for the bell to ring out. “Remember, you all have to read Act 3 Scene 1 of the Great Gatsby by Monday’s class!” Miss Jamie told your class as the bell rang. Your heart was racing as you got your books in your arms and waited to get out the door. When you got out you could see Bucky’s head perk up, noticing you. He smiled, and you returned it with a shy one. “Hey doll, you ready?” He asked, holding out his hand for you to take. “Yeah James, lets go”

The two of you walked to the diner all the couples in high school went to, and sat down at a booth. The waiter approached your table and asked what the two of you would like “Can we have an all the way please” “Sure, that’ll be right out” You smiled at Bucky, but hesitating to ask the questions you’ve been dying to know. “James, can I ask why me? I mean you’ve never talked to me before” “Y/n, you’re the first person who didn’t go out of their way to talk to me. It gets tiring you know? But I can tell you’re a special one” You smiled at him and you two talked the day into the night, and the waiter could tell that the twi of you were already in love.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

After that date, you and Bucky went on many more. Even during school Bucky would hold you by your waist, or when you’re going to your next class he’d sneak up on you and sneak a kiss leaving you blushing. You even met Bucky’s best friend, Steve Rogers, who was one of the most honest and kindhearted men you ever met. You met Steve’s dame as well, Peggy Carter, and the four of you quickly became a close knit group, doing everything together. Of course, you would ask to bring your best friends along, who quickly approved of Bucky seeing as he made you happy.

You went home that day and decided to tell your parents about your new partner. You opened the door and saw your mother sitting on the couch watching some television and your father who had come home early reading the day’s newspaper. “Hi darling, how was your day?” your mother asked approaching you and kissing your forehead. “It was great ma, hi papa” Your father said hi and smiled at you, patting the now empty seat besides him signaling for you to come sit. “Uh, ma, papa? I’ve been meaning to tell y’all something. I’m going out with James Barnes now” Your mom had a smile on her face, while your dad’s expression didn’t change. “Papa?” You asked, your voice quiet “I will not allow it, you’re still too young y/n” “Nonsense y/f/n, we met each other at the same time” Your mother butted in “I said I won’t allow it” He met your eyes, and you rushed out the door trying to get to Bucky’s as fast as you can. When you found him, you started crying and pulled him close to your chest. “Doll, hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, comforting you “My papa, he doesn’t want me seeing you. Say’s i’m too young to see people” you say in between tears. “I just wanted him to like you, James” “Hey doll, it gonna be alright. We’ll make it work, alright? I’d do anything for ya” You looked up at him, and pulled him down to meet your lips.

And it's new The shape of your body, it's blue The feeling I've got And it's ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer

Your school year had ended, meaning that the both of you were about to go to university now. You had gotten into Columbia considering both your parents were alumni, but Bucky on the other hand decided to enlist in the army. “Bucky, I swear you’re nuts” you walked across his room back and forth “Why would you do that? Why would you enlist in the army James?” Bucky winced. You had stopped calling him James, but rather Bucky so when you called him James he knew he was in trouble. “Doll, I thought you’d be more supportive of me” He said, dropping his head.

You fell silent, and went to sit beside him “I am proud of you Bucky, honest” “Then what is it, doll?” he asked voice breaking. You replied eyes full of tears for the unknown “I’m scared that one day, someone is gonna come knockin on my door and tell me that the last time I saw you was truly the last time. I’m scared that you’re gonna get shot and hurt, and you will spend the rest of your life upset over it. I’m scared that when I kiss you goodbye at the train station, its the last time i’ll ever kiss you and see you Buck. I’m just scared of loosin you” you admitted, tears streaming down your face. Bucky was crying as well know. He lifted your face to meet your eyes, and kissed you with as much vigor as he could. “Doll, no matter what, I will always come back home to you” You kissed him, not letting him go. And that night ended up with you two sleeping in each other’s arms.

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

That entire summer, the both of you spent almost all of it together. Day after day, Bucky would take you out on a date sometimes with Steve and Peggy, but most times just the two of you. You enjoyed every moment you had with the love of your life, refusing to thing about when he get’s deployed. You enjoyed strawberry sundaes, and ferris wheels at the fair. You even went to the Stark Expo, where the both of you had the time of your lives. You had later found out from Steve that he had secretly enlisted in the army as well and got in. That night, you and Bucky yelled at Steve but later pulled him into a hug. “I swear to god punk if you hurt yourself” “I will personally come over and kill you Steve” you said jokingly. Steve chuckled “I promise I will be alright”

When Steve went home, Bucky and you went to the roof of his apartment and laid down watching the stars. “Darling, i’m leaving next week for the army” You got up and looked at Bucky “Buck, I thought it was the end of the summer?” “They needed us to do some extra training for the war darlin. I promise I will write to you everyday, not a chance i’d miss it” You scooted closer to him and put your head on his chest. “I’m countin on it James”

I'm drunk in the back of the car And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) Said, "I'm fine", but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I, snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) And I screamed, "For whatever it's worth" "I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?"

It was the week after you dropped Bucky off at the train station, and you missed him so much. He sent his first letter two days back, sending his dog tag along with it. He wrote,

Hi Doll,

Every night I lie awake thinkin of you darlin. There isn’t a day that goes by where you don’t cross my mind. I remember the first time we met, and I now know that that was the first day I fell in love with you. I fell in love with the strong, independent woman you are. I fell in love with kindhearted woman you are. I fell in love with you. I love you y/n y/l/n and I hope you love me too. I am giving you one of my dog tags so you always have something of mine to wear. I promise you when I come back, i’m marrying you doll. I know I should be telling you this in person but I feel the need to tell you know. I hope you have a great day doll. I miss you a lot.

Yours truly,

James (Bucky) Barnes

You felt a tear trail down your cheek as you held the dog tag close to your heart. It felt as if he was still there with you, and you murmured “I love you, Bucky Barnes” The two of you wrote for months on end, until one day an officer knocks on your door telling you that him and his regiment were captured by the opposing side. They called it Hydra. But you didn’t care for the name, you cried for Bucky and his safety. You missed him. You had also found out that Steve was injected with the serum and became plenty rugged. Meanwhile, you were at school continuing your studies like you know Bucky would’ve wanted you to do.

It's cool That's what I tell 'em, no rules In breakable Heaven but Ooh, whoa oh It's a cruel summer With you

You heard a knock on your door and went to open it. Standing in all his glory was the love of your life. You flung your arms around Bucky, smelling his cologne you grew to love. “Bucky, oh lord, I thought you died” you sobbed into his shoulder and pulled away to see his face. He smiled, caressing your face pulling you into a kiss. “Steve saved us, doll. I’m alright” “I love you Bucky, and whenever you choose to I will marry you” He smiled kissing you again as if it was the last time he could. The two of you spent the entire night surrounded by the others naked body, memorizing each and every curve and scar. When Bucky left again, you had a little more hope this time that he would come back to you. The letters never ended, until they did one day.

You heard a knock on your door, letting the person know you were coming. You opened the door to see a shattered looking Steve holding Bucky’s uniform. “Bucky, uh, fell off a train during a mission. Y/n, I tried to catch him but I couldn’t” Steve was sobbing, and you put a hand on your mouth not believing this cruel joke the universe played on you. “Oh Steve” The both of you held on to each other, the last piece of Bucky both of you had. Both of you mourned for the loss of a best friend, the loss of the love of your life.

A couple of weeks later, you went to the place Steve was at to surprise him. You saw Peggy and went over to her. “Hey Pegs, have you seen Steve” Her eyes started watering and she sighed before gaining her composure. “Captain Steve Rogers went down in the Arctic last week. I had assumed you had found out, but i’m sorry y/n. Steve’s gone” You were numb, you felt no pain. First the love of your life, and now your best friend. You went home that day and cried for the loss of America’s heroes. You mumbled to yourself, “It’s been a cruel summer with you, Bucky Barnes”.

slang used:

all the way: chocolate or fudge cake with ice cream

cute as a bug’s ear: very cute

doll and dame: a woman

nuts: crazy

#Bucky Barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #avengers fanfiction

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thorne93 · 5 years ago

Text

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 20)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:2908

Warnings: Language

Song: This Feeling - The Chainsmokers

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it, listen to the sound of my voice,” you cooed as you and Loki sat cross-legged on the rug, trying to meditate. “Try to remember the first memory of Thor. Your first truly happy memory.”

“When I stabbed him after pretending to be a snake?” he asked, his eyes closed as he smirked.

“No, I mean more of a time you two were equals. Fighting side by side. Perhaps he covered for you when you stole a cake at a feast?” you tried.

Loki kept his eyes closed, trying to remember. “Nothing. Y/N, I am getting nothing,” he finally said, sighing and opening his eyes. He got to his feet. “This isn’t working. We’ve been at this for two weeks.”

“And giving up will not help. It’s not like we have much of anything else to do,” you said, gesturing around.

Loki got closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. “I could think of a thing or two we could do instead of this,” he said in a low voice.

You smiled at him but put your hands on his chest. “While that is fun, it isn’t exactly helpful, is it?”

“I don’t know, a jarring bed helps clear the mind,” he said, bending down and biting your ear, making you laugh.

“Are you two done?” Tony’s voice suddenly asked, irritated.

You jumped away from Loki, startled. Loki simply glared at Tony and left the room, trying to get to the other side of the apartment where he wouldn’t be seen.

“Tony,” you greeted as kindly as you could, surprised to see him.

“Just checking in. Need anything?” he asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Don’t suppose my freedom is an option?” you joked.

“No, it’s not. If I have it my way you’ll never know what sunlight looks like again,” he promised. “Anyway, need anything? A book? Paper? Toiletries?” He began walking around the outside of the cell, probably examining it for any tampering.

“A notebook and some pencils and pens would be nice,” you tried in a meek voice.

“I can arrange that,” he simply said. “Anything else?”

“How is Shannon?” you blurted out, desperate to know about her.

“Oh, so now you suddenly care about her wellbeing?” he questioned, irritated. “She’s fine, no thanks to you.”

“Is she… does she ask about me?” you wondered, stepping closer to the glass.

“Nope. Not once,” he said, satisfaction flashing across his face at the sign of your pain.

You nodded. “That’s fair. Could you tell her… that I miss her?”

“As a matter of fact, I can’t. I won’t tell her about you at all, unless she asks,” Tony informed, his hands behind his back, gloating. “I’ll do my damndest to make sure she forgets you’re 100 stories below ground…”

Your eyes drifted to the floor. “Tony, I’m sorry,” you said, so much emotion in your voice, but remorse ringing the most. “I… I didn’t want to hurt you or her.”

“Just collateral damage for Reindeer Games, huh?” he asked, gesturing vaguely behind you. “You know, I never pegged you for a woman to lose her head over a guy, but I guess I was wrong,” Tony said, shrugging, frowning at you.

“I didn’t lose my head… I fell in love,” you answered simply.

“Yeah, with possibly the most crazy and vindictive prick I’ve ever met,” Tony retorted. “The people we fall in love with shows a lot about our own character, Y/N/N.”

Your eyes flashed to him. “Yeah, you need to remind Shannon of that,” you said pointedly as you eyed him up and down.

“I will, because.. You know, I’m free and all, and not a criminal, and I can see her every day.” He flashed you a smile and started to walk away. “Paper and pens, got it. You’ll get it sometime in the next month,” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Even watching Tony walk away from you hurt like hell. In a split second, Loki’s hands were on your shoulders, comforting you before you turned and wept into his chest as he held you.

------------------------

Loki woke in a pool of cold sweat, sitting straight up. He made no noise other than a slight gasp.

“Darling?” you asked as you sat up with him. “Are you alright?”

He shook his head. “I had a nightmare. Thanos found us… He came for you… And he… He killed…” He broke off, staring at you with wild eyes before grabbing at you and gripping you tight before crying. You let him sob, get all of his fear and grief out.

“It’s okay, he can’t get to us. I’ll protect you,” you vowed as you soothingly stroked his back.

----------------

In the following weeks, you worked more and more with Loki. You tried to get him to remember good things. To remember that he and Thor were equals. Slowly, he was coming out of it. The brainwashing was slowly washing away. The cruelty of this Loki was ebbing away to the gentle, clever, and sweet Loki you knew and loved.

You’d asked for the paper to write Shannon a letter. You wrote on it every day, adding to it, elaborating. You were explaining your life just before the fall, up until the day you were put in this prison. The brainwashing, the torture, the ultimatum, the reasons behind all of your actions. You would hope she would read it and understand.

By now, it was over twenty pages long. It detailed why you jumped. It detailed that you fell in love with Loki a month before the fall. You explained the good side of him. The side that Earth never saw, and probably never would. The side only his family knew. You explained how Loki had been berated and ridiculed by people closest to him. In your short time there you’d seen it. The warriors teased him constantly. Odin hardly let him talk. The only real good in his life was Frigga.

You explained that while you were with Loki in the library, riding, in the forest, on the training field, he wasn’t this evil monster that was filled with jealousy and hate. He was just a man, wanting to be seen as the equal he deserved. And you saw him as that, as an equal. Your equal, Thor’s equal. Any one with a good heart, he was their equal.

You jumped, because you were in love with a man that truly understood you. A man that knew what it was like to be overlooked. A man that could make you laugh. A man that got lost in your voice as you went on and on about physics. A man that seemed to take great joy in your fascination with magic.

Then you fell deeper in love when he selflessly took the brunt of the torture and manipulation just so you would be left unharmed. When you begged him to let you take it, he refused.

He risked everything by letting you go to Shannon and apologize. He knew he was risking his own life if you all should fail, but so long as you were happy, what did it matter?

This was the side you wrote about in your letters.

Then you went on to explain just how awful it was living under Thanos’s rule. How he treated you almost like a daughter -- fitting, that a man who wanted to ruin the universe would see himself in you. Not your foster parents, not Frigga and Odin, not Diane and Tom -- no, the most sociopathic man you’d ever met, decided to spare you, take pity on you, and take you under his wing as if you were his daughter.

You told her all about Thanos, at least what you knew. You knew he was homicidal and uncaring. You weren’t sure about his overall plan, at all. All you knew was your instructions and that was it.

The letter explained why you could do the horrible things you could do to her. How even though it ripped a hole in your heart, that stabbing her in the leg was far better than Loki, you, Tony, the Avengers, and everyone else - dying. Collateral damage, to ensure that you and Loki ruled Earth, and that ultimately those you loved stayed safe.

Loki’s motivations might have been slightly… different than your own, but both of you knew, both of you were aware just how much was at stake if you lost. That’s why all sentiment had to be lost.

And yet, you still could not do it. You could not fight Tony with the intent to hurt. You couldn’t fight Shannon with the intent to kill.

But most importantly, the letters told Shannon how much you loved her more than anything in this world. No amount of brainwashing, or threats could make you forget how much she meant to you. The letters said how sorry you were, and that you did all of this, just to save her. If you failed at everything else, at least you were able to save the people you loved from that murderous being in space… for now. And that was all that mattered -- that they were safe.

----------------------

Tony arrived for his biweekly check up. It was his fourth visit in total, meaning eight weeks had passed since you’d been put in this upscale prison cell. By now you were used to the fact that Tony, and anyone else with access to JARVIS could see what you were doing at all times.

But you didn’t care. What were they going to hear? You writing? Loki reading? The two of you sleeping? That had to be enthralling for the viewers…

“Need anything?” he greeted. Clearly his utter contempt for you and Loki had not subsided. Loki never spoke to Tony, nor Tony to him.

“Could we have five more books?” you asked, at this point you hated sounding like a begging child for scraps.

“Sure. Any particular ones?” Tony asked.

You held up a list.

He rolled his eyes. “Read it to JARVIS later and I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“Could we have a handful of things so we can cook? It would be nice to have some variety for down here or if we get hungry at midnight?”

Tony thought for a moment. “Give me two fruits you want stocked, and give me some ingredients for some recipes and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks.”

“That it?” he questioned, nearly through with his walk through of checking for tampering.

“Uh, no…” You used your powers of concealment and showed him the bundle of letters. “Could you take these to Shannon?”

He looked at the letters for a second too long, then looked up at you and told you a flat, “No.”

He already began to turn and walk out of the room.

“No? Tony! Wait, what the hell? Don’t I deserve to know why?” you asked, frantic.

He spun back to face you, rage evident in his expression, making you take a few steps back from the glass.

“No! No you really don’t deserve to know anything about Shannon! She doesn’t deserve this shit. So no, I won’t give her your letters.”

“Fine! You selfish ass,” you said, angry at him for refusing to deliver the letters.

He took several more strides toward the glass wall until he was right next to it. “Selfish? I’m selfish? I’m only thinking about her. If I give these to her, they’ll break her. I’m not doing that. I am not watching her go through that.”

“You have no idea what’s in them,” you argued evenly.

“Doesn’t matter. If they somehow magically explain that it wasn’t all your fault, she’ll feel guilty and want to free you -- which we can’t do. If it’s more blind resentment towards her, or me, or anyone else, it’ll just crush her. So either way, it’s a lose-lose.”

On that, he spun and left before you could beg further.

---------------------------

Another four weeks slipped by, and still, nothing from Shannon. When you asked Tony about her, he simply said, “She’s fine.” That was all he would ever say to you. No matter what you asked him, when you asked him, that was his only response.

Part of you wondered why she never came down here herself. Did she really hate you that much? Why couldn’t she just listen to you?

Other than Tony’s visits, and the occasional food and goods drop from one of his workers, you were entirely alone with Loki. Which, in many odd ways, was good. The two of you hardly had much alone time when you were on Asgard, and never alone unless it was night in that godforsaken hut you lived in on Sanctuary (a name unbefitting the elements, mind you). Then, the plot to take over Earth took place and you barely saw him.

Now, now that you two had no freedom, and were bound together in here, you got to know each other even more. It was like domestic bliss on house arrest. Not ideal, but at any rate, it got you some time to fall more in love.

And it granted you more time to get that brainwashed bullshit out of his head. Each day was a small step closer to victory for you, and for him. He slowly came up out of the cruel, wild, mess of a man he’d been turned into and was slowly turning back into your Loki.

If your fate was to be left in a cell with this man for the rest of your life, then so be it. There were fates much worse than this. In fact, this wasn’t bad at all. It was almost like Heaven -- save for lack of freedom, friends or family, at least you had him.

--------------------------------

Tony returned for another visit, and asked if you needed anything. It was at this time that Shannon, nearly one-hundred-fifty stories above you, asked JARVIS where he was.

“JARVIS, where is Tony?” she wondered idly as she worked on soldering a motherboard.

“I believe he is at Mr. Loki and Ms. Y/N’s holding cell,” the AI informed.

Shannon stood straight up. “He--what?” she asked, perplexed. “Show me.”

On command, JARVIS turned on the video of your holding cell, the outside camera where Tony stood.

“Okay, you want a board game?” Tony asked, confused and Shannon looked on. The tiniest of smiles played at Shannon‘s lips. Of course you would want a board game. That’s typical. And of course Tony would think it was an odd request.

But then the reality of the situation hit her. Why was Tony even down there? How long had he been going down there? What was he doing?

“Yeah, Monopoly. It’s fun and it’ll take up some of our time,” you tried with a shrug.

“I don’t think a game about owning and domination and money is best for the Wannabe King,” Tony remarked.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, Twister.”

“Hell no. That is basically foreplay, and I’m not watching that unfold on my surveillance.”

Again, you rolled your eyes. “Fine, then what do you suggest?”

“Checkers?”

“God, you’re so boring,” you said with a slight laugh. “Please, Tony? Something for entertainment other than books and writing?”

“I’ll see about getting you some family friendly, non-dictator-y games,” he promised. “Anything else?”

Your powers of concealment kicked in again as you revealed the large stack of letters. “Give these to Shannon?” you requested in a soft, desperate voice.

“No,” he firmly said again. This was the third time he’d denied you.

“Tony. Please. Don’t you think she should be able to make the decision for herself? Let her read them. If she still hates me, fine, if she doesn’t then…”

“Then I have to pick up the pieces when you choose that Asgardian asshole over her, again,” he stressed, pointing to Loki who was standing in the kitchen. You turned back to look at him for a moment before sighing.

“That won’t happen.”

“And what guarantee do I have?” he asked, as if your promise were absurd.

“I’m locked in a fucking cell, Tony. What could I possibly do to her? I don’t get to see her. The letter isn’t malicious. Read it if you fucking want, I don’t care. I don’t care if you publish it in the New York Times, just make sure she reads it!” you begged.

“No,” he said again in a low firm voice, his hand making a cutting motion in the air. “And if you ask me about it again, I will go in there and burn them.” He turned abruptly and started to storm out.

“Tony… Tony! Tony!” you shouted after him, putting the letters on the glass. “Please!”

But he wouldn’t respond to your pleas. He left the same doors he always did, and they slid shut behind him.

His rejection, turned into pain, and your pain, turned to rage. You used your dark energy to pick every piece of furniture up and throw it, screaming as you did so.

All the while, Shannon watched it unfold.

Moments later, the elevator opened to the lab, where a happy Tony stepped out and walked over to Shannon.

“Hi, dear,” he greeted sweetly. He was about to kiss her when she pulled back, revealing the video footage she’d been watching. His eyes went from the video to her, panic in his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo @damalseer @heyitscam99 @yknott81 @sorryimacrapwriter @glitterquadricorn @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm @alyssaj23 @sea040561 @princess76179 @thisismysecrethappyplace @sarahp879 @malfoysqueen14 @ellallheart @breezy1415 @marvelmayo @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton

Loki: @lostinspace33 @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester @esoltis280 @tngrayson @wangdeasang @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice

UC:

@lokis-high-priestess

#unforeseen chasm #unforseen chasm #loki x reader #loki #loki fic #Loki Laufeyson #tony stark #tony stark fic #tony stark x ofc

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wish-upon-a-sapphic-star · 5 years ago

Audio

Chapter 5: The Warning

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 AO3

The road is long.

He doesn’t know what he expected. The journey to Hades wasn’t easy, he has no reason to expect the journey back to be any better, even with a direct path.

At first he doesn’t notice. Persephone gave him a chance. Walk all the way back, and Sirius will return to him. Just don’t look back.

But when he was told not to look back, he didn’t realize he wouldn’t be able to hear Sirius. He knows that he is walking behind him—he must be, but he hears no footsteps. Not even a breath.

It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t look back. He won’t waste this. Sirius is behind him, just as Persephone said he would be. He just has to trust her. All his life he has been taught to trust the gods. Fear them, but trust them, for they will stay true to their word. It is no hardship to remember that now.

He thinks of the future. He looks forward, for he cannot look back. He ignores the burning of his feet and the utter silence around him, in favor of imagining the life he will have. With Sirius. They have a second chance.

Remus thinks of their house, their friends, all the joys they will share. Singing with each other, dancing with each other, simply living together, free from all the worries they once had. This is the life he wants, the life he has always wanted, and this is the life he will have.

The wind bites at his face. His eyes are strained. He does not know how long he has been walking.

The next hour passes. The road looks the same as it did before. No change. The same dark, grainy sand below him. The same cliff faces on either side. A distant light in front of him. He does not know how much longer he must walk.

His knees threaten to give out and he wonders if he has gone any distance at all. He saw Persephone’s mischievous smile, the way Hades rolled his eyes. Is it a trap? A game? Is he their puppet? Is this road an endless road that he can never fully travel?

In all his lessons he was told to trust the gods, but to be cautious. The gods must be trusted or one would face their wrath, but it was not wise to trust them blindly. Listen to every word they say. Ask questions about their bargains, know as much as you can. They have their own agendas and they do not care about any mortal.

Does he not know enough? Is he trusting them too easily?

Is Sirius truly walking behind him?

Remus listens. He keeps walking, eyes closed, and listens for the sound of footsteps that are not his own. He listens for a breath, a sigh, fabric shifting, any noise at all.

He hears nothing.

He does not know what to do. He has been walking so long and he cannot trust Persephone’s word blindly any longer.

Remus’ voice is painful and scratchy, but he sings anyway.

Are you there behind me?

Are you there at all?

Are you here with me, love?

Can you hear my call?

It’s a simple melody, a simple rhyme scheme. He has no energy for anything more.

He listens for Sirius to respond. He waits for him to say something, anything. Yes or I hear you or Come on, we both know you can do better than that.

There is no response.

He sings it again, voice cracking in too many places. He has no breath to support it.

Still nothing.

His heart is beating too fast, his head feels heavy. There’s a weakness in his limbs. He blinks and for a moment the world is black and he can see nothing. He puts a hand against the cliff face to stabilize himself, slowly waiting for his sight to return.

Once he can see again, he continues walking. He sings, to keep the worry and panic away. It doesn’t matter what he sings, as long as he is singing. So he sings anything and everything. He runs through every song he has ever memorized, then moves on to the ones he can only remember half of. Time seems to move faster this way, with lyrics and melodies from all years of his life fueling him.

Every now and then he calls out to Sirius. Sirius never responds.

Soon his eyes are drooping. He has nothing left but his own determination. No hope. Only willpower. He hopes it will be enough.

He sings more songs. He pulls out his lyre but soon puts it away, too weak to hold it properly. He feels like a child, once again at the mercy of a god.

More time passes. He does not know how long he has been walking this road. He stops looking, simply closes his eyes and walks. It is all the same, whether he keeps his eyes open or not.

He calls out to Sirius once more. No answer.

His heart plummets, thoughts racing in his mind. Sirius isn’t there. It’s all a trick. Of course it’s a trick—why would the gods be so merciful? What reason could they possibly have?

No. He has to trust. He cannot look behind. He tells himself this, but he cannot shake the thoughts that swear otherwise.

Before he knows it or understands how it could be, he comes to the end of the road. There, right in front of him is the clear line between the land of the dead and the land of the living, where black sand meets green grass and rich soil.

One more step. One more step and he will be out, and if what Persephone said was true, he would live with Sirius again.

If.

If she lied, if it was all a trick, he would never be able to return and he would never see his love again.

He wants to trust. He knows he should. But every instinct in him is screaming that it’s a trap, a lie. If he looks behind him and finds that Sirius is not there, then there is still hope. He can run to Hades and beg once more.

He calls out to Sirius, singing the tune he sang when they first met.

He hears nothing.

And so Remus looks back.

He is there. Sirius is there.

Remus starts crying. He is here. Sirius is really here, he is with him, just as beautiful as ever.

“Sirius?”

Sirius clutches his throat. He cannot speak. But he mouths the word over and over again. No.

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks. He doesn’t understand. His mind is thick with exhaustion and it’s hard to remember what has happened.

Then Sirius starts fading. His body slowly turns translucent, shimmering in the light.

Remus remembers the warning. Everything comes back to him in floods. “Sirius? Sirius!”

It’s too late.

Sirius is gone.

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fromsolowithlove · 5 years ago

Text

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS: NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW👇🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

#daiver #adam x daisy #adam driver x daisy ridley #realpersonfic #real person fic #rpf #im literally trying to chase you away if this isn't your ish #daiver rpf #mine #adamsy #adaisy #fanfic

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chyrstis · 5 years ago

Text

You won’t be the one (2/2)

I love how an excuse to write about a drunken radio call has lead to this weird weaving back and forth that I really did think was mostly going to be silly banter. At least at first?

Pairing: F!Dep x John Seed (the strange pseudo-flirting really can’t be denied here) Rating: T Word Count: 3.2K

Link to AO3!

___

A conversation in two parts. (Part 1)

______________

She was drunk. Not just a little, but heading full on into embracing whatever chaos the night might lead into, dare or no dare provided.

Sharky was her primary instigator, working harder than usual to keep her from thinking back to the mess they’d made of the convoys in the afternoon. It didn’t make sense. They should’ve found a way to make a serious dent by now, but for every one lost, another two took its place, like some sort of strange vehicular hydra.

It was an exhausting dance. One Hana knew was going to be painful from the start, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept, or forget. Especially when John knew which resources to lean on as a counter.

So, with that frustration fresh in her mind, she let one drink turn into two. Then into four. With Sharky by her side, she tacked on one more after that, and he reminded her that breaks like this really did lead to better ass kicking tomorrow.

“Just flush all of that negative shit out, double-down on you being you, and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me,” he said. “We’ll be swimming in so much Peggie ass tomorrow.“

She nearly choked on her drink. “Kicking. You mean we’ll be kicking so much ass tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah! What’d you think I said?” he asked, nearly spilling his shot. The fact that it was on fire – courtesy of him, and not Mary May - should’ve been a concern, but she was well within swatting distance if she needed to intervene. He put it out and knocked it back before she could say anything else. “We’ll be kicking it up, and fucking them up. Cause that’s how we do things.”

At least, that’s how they were planning on doing things. Tomorrow.

Within the hour, Hana was dragging him upstairs, barely able to stand on his own two feet. Even after somehow losing a bet and promising to get him his weight in accelerants, she wasn’t about to let him stumble up there alone, and helped deposit him into the room Mary May was letting her crash in.

Sharky faceplanted onto the bed, and after draping the blanket over him, she made him promise he wouldn’t suffocate on his own hoodie – while also making sure he actually wouldn’t. She would’ve felt awful if he did after teasing him about it. Lucky for her he was listening, but the minute said hoodie hit her in the face, she wisely decided it was time to cut out and leave.

With that she was left alone and free to roam. Her head buzzed, the sensation more pleasant than not, but standing there idle with a half-finished beer wasn’t going to help her burn any of that energy off.

So, she wandered outside, taking a moment to stand on the Spread Eagle’s porch.

In moments like this it was easy to see how someone could’ve fallen in love with this place. How she could’ve fallen in love with it before things went straight to hell and back.

The breeze ruffled her hair as Hana followed the road to the outskirts of town before cutting across the grass, looking to head to the hills. Glancing skyward, she took in the stars above, marking old constellations that she used to love as a kid.

Orion. Always Orion, with his belt of stars, one, two, and three. Cassiopeia, with the zig-zag of the W. If she squinted, there was at least one of the dippers to find too.

Out here, the lights above weren’t drowned out by the city below. She pointed up, running her finger from one bright point to another, her head bobbing as she tried to trace out the image. Rough as it was, there was still a picture to be made even if she had to blink fast to keep it in focus.

But her finger came to a stop, resting right on the edge of the horizon. Right where the white, glaring eye sore stood out up in the mountains, drawing her attention completely.

She chucked her empty beer bottle in the general direction of the YES sign, and didn’t care that it wouldn’t come anywhere close to reaching it. It shattered somewhere nearby, her annoyance rising at having fallen short, and she stood there, staring out over the fields as she forced herself to relax. To curl back into the peace out here. To breathe in and out.

In and out.

She took in her fifth breath, hearing it whistle between her teeth, before reaching down for her radio. Silence wasn’t going to cut it any longer, and she’d take anything else at this point.

Not bothering to check to see just which station she’d picked was a mistake. Mostly harmless, but still a sizable one given her current mood. With the Peggie station came a chance of hearing each of the Seed’s songs. She’d heard most off and on, but only for short bursts due to the cultists playing them.

John’s followers, however, seemed to take this a step further. Seemed to play his theme with a frequency that grated on her more and more every time she heard it, and hearing it now out of the blue? Here, well in view of his lasting mark on the valley?

That was the cherry on top of her irritation-flavored sundae.

Oh, John! The words ran right on repeat through her mind, and there it was. A melody that was going to stick around right up until the point that she passed out, mid-curse into her pillow.

“Petty fucking amusement, my ass,” Hana muttered, messing with the radio. “I’ll show you who’s a joke.”

If that was how her night was going to go, fine. Maybe he did have a point, and maybe, just maybe, he could be hers.

---

“Brother John?”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the papers set in front of him on the table, but when the Chosen didn’t respond further, he waved his hand for them to continue. At this hour interruptions were few and far between, but not impossible. “Go on, I’m listening.”

“Our channel’s been picking up on a strange message. One that’s been repeating, but doesn’t appear to be an SOS. It hasn’t stopped. Not once.”

John turned towards her, and set his pen aside. “If it’s not an emergency, or a threat, then what is the problem?”

The Chosen’s posture straightened as more of his attention was turned on her, but she held up her radio and stood her ground. “It’s been the same thing over the last five minutes. Cutting in and out, just…noise at first, but it sounds like singing.”

“Singing?” John raised an eyebrow.

She turned it on, and the voice came through in bursts, some of it too difficult to understand at first. Once the words started coming through, however, he listened, taking in the melody as it became quite clear which song it belonged to.

He set his chin in his hand, and let his eyes slip shut. That was his name being said, and this song was one he did admit a degree of, albeit prideful, fondness for. Even with the words slurred and the voice exaggerating each note’s rise and fall.

But this voice, this one, he was used to hearing nothing but provocations from. In a way, this also fit the bill. After the crude defacement of his message, along with the taking back of the Widowmaker, the county’s only free deputy kept on going as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

And while he had seethed over her actions - and her dismissal of him days back – other areas had demanded his attention first.

Her time to atone would come. She would take those steps, willingly, if he had his way, and from there progress could truly be made. If he needed to guide her further he would, but it was so much more satisfying to see what steps she might take unprompted. Especially when those steps lead to instances like this.

This wasn’t an immediate problem. It wasn’t another blow to their resources or a strike to their convoys. It was a distraction at best, which didn’t require his intervention at all, but the temptation remained. Like before, she was reaching out to him. Calling for him, even if only to provoke him.

It was still an effort, and it lingered in the back of his mind when he motioned for them to hand over their radio.

“Allow me. Maybe there’s something to this after all.”

---

"My dear Deputy-“

The radio flew out of her hands, sailing through the air towards the ground, as she fumbled it completely. It landed on a patch of grass, the tumble making only static come through for a few seconds. Soon enough, however, John’s voice was back.

“How unexpected. I wasn’t aware that song left such an impression on you. To hear it come straight from your lips, to hear it repeated so fervently. I’m amazed.”

Hana stared at the radio, both hands still clasped over her mouth, and felt the blood rush straight to her face.

“And over such a public medium as well. What would the others say if they heard you?”

If they had the right idea, they would’ve turned off their radios long ago. Hopefully before John actually decided to tune in, but too late now. She’d deal with that in the morning, along with the massive hangover she’d be courting.

She grabbed for the radio, struggling not to trip over her own two feet trying to pick it up fast, and almost forgot to hit the button before replying. “This isn’t about them. It’s about…shit.”

“You? I’d suggest myself, but after hearing what I have for the last few minutes or so, that might be presumptuous of me.”

He was back to using that strange teasing tone of his again, and none of it sat well with her. Not after what he’d shown her a few days back, but if he was willing to do this, she’d gladly dish it back.

“You liked that? Hearing your name over, and over, and over?“

“Very few would object to such a thing. Especially when said so…enthusiastically.”

Her face flushed again – or had it stayed that way? – and she kicked herself for being just that damn petty. The words had been messy from the start, and she’d looped back to that simply because her poor brain had hit a snag and couldn’t get past repeating variations of it.

“Jesus, John. Hearing this shit would grate on a normal person.”

Hearing it from her? Drunk and garbled? It should’ve been irritating. That was exactly what she wanted to begin with. Instead, he was a mix of amused and delighted? Shouldn’t he have already ambushed her and carried her off to God-knows-where days back just for the damn sign?

What the hell did she actually drink? Mary May said it’d been strong before she shot it, but -

“Why are we speaking, Deputy? I have a feeling there’s something on your mind. Intoxicated or not.”

You. She nearly bit her tongue. Bugging the shit out of you. “I thought my intent was pretty damn clear.”

“No, I think there’s more to this. A reason for you to seek me out. Are there regrets? Looking for another chance to consider-“

“No.”

“Deputy.” He almost sounded disappointed. “So quick to say no.”

“After listening to you tell me how, if given the chance, you were going to ‘open me up’ and, or, peel me like a fucking apple, did you really expect anything different?”

He paused. “Ah. That.”

“Yes, that.”

John chuckled, but didn’t offer up an explanation or an excuse. Just his amusement at what she was sure was her expense. That put a shot of anger through her.

“Real cute asshole, but you’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“I was merely suggesting you could share a part of yourself with me.”

Not just one, Hana reminded herself. Multiple parts. Multiple layers.

“Suggesting, huh? Suggestions are made about movies, and songs to listen to. Both usually to share and enjoy with those closest to you. And okay, people do that too. Sharing, and baring just enough of themselves to see if they’ve got a good thing going, but applying that to us, John, just doesn’t work. Because one, we’re just not that cozy, and two, we’re sure as hell not that close.”

“Hence, the suggestion.”

“I might have a few for you, if we’re going to stick to this topic, but none of them are going to be that nice.”

“And I’m sure you would love to go over them in extensive detail with me, my dear. Some of which I might even entertain, given just how you might choose to pitch it to me.”

She wasn’t even sure what topic they were on anymore at this point. “Oh, I think you’d like my delivery. Maybe even my pitch.” Yeah, she’d lost it, and the breathy tone was laying it on way too thick.

“Deputy!” The smile her mental image conjured up for that was a wicked one. “You’re far from shy, aren’t you? Just be sure to remain clear on what exactly you’re hoping to accomplish. Otherwise, I may end up drawing my own conclusions on the matter. But don’t worry,” he said, almost imitating her. “No matter what you decide, you won’t have to be nice with me.”

Jesus. This was getting weird. Way too weird for her to keep on going with it. “Now I know you’re just trying to keep me talking. Dangling shit like that in front of me hoping I’ll just, I don’t know. Ramble on about something interesting, or just make a bigger ass of myself in the process. Either or.”

“We’re simply talking. Trading pleasantries, and possibly even a step beyond that. Surely that can’t be a problem.”

“Nothing is ever simple when it comes to you. At least, that I’m learning.”

“You were the one that called me. Let me remind you of that, yet again,” he replied, an edge creeping into his tone. “But this is the longest we’ve talked so far. I’d like to call that…progress.”

“I don’t think we’re supposed to make progress here.”

“Given my role, I’d have to disagree. Progress is precious. All too delicate and easily lost, much like trust. And I understand yours is not given easily, Deputy.”

She took in a slow breath and let it out through her nose. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me be honest with you. Not that I haven’t been from the start, but if you need to hear it, need me to tell you this directly, then I will.”

“To build trust?”

“To build progress. But that could lead to trust, if given the opportunity.”

This was swinging back in the other direction. Back to a topic that she knew they shouldn’t be heading towards, and the repeated question came out harsh. “What do you want, John?”

“Let me make my offer again. To give you a proper chance to-“

“Confess?” That made her want to pitch her radio right out over the hills. “You never quit with this shit, do you?”

“Have I become that predictable?” he asked drily. “But yes, I doubt I will, because it's not in my right to deny you that. That chance. That opportunity. It still remains, even now.”

“You want to hear a confession? Hmm? You really want to? Like the actual reason why we’re talking right now? Why I made an ass of myself earlier singing at you?”

Hana held the radio right up to her mouth as she hissed out the next few words.

“I hate this song. I hate it every time it comes on, and I hate the fact that this entire county only has two stations to choose from. That if I get into any vehicle, or if I walk to any area within reach, there’s a decent shot it’s playing, and I have to spend the next five minutes listening to it crooning, ‘Oh, John,’ over and over until I can flip the damn switch.”

“It should be a source of inspiration, to bolster, and-”

She pressed the button on the radio to cut him off. “I blame the subject. He’s kind of a self-absorbed prick.”

He grew silent after that, and she knew she was getting close to hitting a nerve.

“John the brave. Building us a family, and working hard to keep us safe. Isn’t that how it goes?”

“I would. All of you, if you’d let me.”

“It’s not that simple of a thing, John. To wave your hand and brush away everything. To wipe the slate clean.”

“It’s not about forgetting or dismissing memories, thoughts, or actions. It’s about accepting them for what they are, and finding a way past that. To wash them away, opening yourself up to the possibility of becoming something greater. We all have things that we regret, don’t we?”

Staring down at the radio, she wet her lips and wished like hell she had another beer nearby. This was not a conversation she wanted to have with him of all people.

“I know you’ve felt that. Not just here, in this place. But before. Long before coming here. The difference is that this time, you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Coming from the same man that had promised to spill her guts out in front of him earlier, to dig for all that she’d keep from him, stung.

“Stop, John.”

“I would listen. Patiently, until you’ve given me all that you could offer. Every word, every action, as we name these things we bury, these sins, and from there they can be shed. So you can begin anew. Unburdened and unashamed.”

“I don’t want to do this with you,” Hana said, the buzz giving way to a weight in her body. “I don’t.”

“But you could. Just say yes.”

Yes.

A shiver ran through her, sinking deep into her as it spread.

“That night by the lake. The Cleansing, or whatever you called it, you remember that? Holding me down as I kicked and screamed my lungs out?” He went silent, and her head swam as she tried to steady herself. “You were going to drown me that night, weren’t you? Right up until Joseph spoke up. Saving me from you.”

She held the radio in her hand, waiting for a denial, acknowledgment, anything.

She’d suspected it. But this, after hearing him say those things to her, spoken low, intimately, was the icing on the goddamn cake.

“If anyone’s going to save me, it’s not going to be you,” she replied, hating how the words wavered. “Good night, John.”

She hit the switch and the radio slipped out of her hand, landing right on the grass by her feet. She'd know where to grab it come morning, she thought, leaving it behind.

Sure enough, she would.

#far cry 5 #deputy hana #john seed #fanfiction #fic series: you'll be okay I promise #*runs off again*#now to try and enjoy the rest of this chaotic Tuesday #and I'll see what I need to fix after posting this at 1 AM over at AO3 #FC5 fanfiction

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villlainarc · 5 years ago

Text

To Fall in Love

Remember My Embrace

Summary: In which Logan has a realization, makes a decision, and says goodbye.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: one (1) vaguely described kiss, Even More Angst Than Usual, unhappy ending (coming soon)

Word Count: 1850

A/N: the song in this chapter is the one (1) musical song, i will be there from the count of monte cristo

More A/N: this is a secret santa gift for @ari-the-anxious-ace and as such, is already completed (and can be found at this very moment on ao3). but so as not to spam you, chapters will be posted every three days.

special thanks to @cringeless for beta reading :)

masterpost || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6

read on ao3 or below the cut

find other stuff i’ve written under #writingxofink

Logan has been a fool. He’s been a fool for thinking that he, a siren, could fall in love without it ending in disaster. He’s been a fool for getting so attached to Roman when he knows how this has to end. He’s been a fool for staying in this grotto and waiting for Roman to come back time and time again. He’s been a fool for waiting so long before draining his victim, for feeling his power grow weaker by the day and still putting off the inevitable.

Because this is inevitable. He can’t continue waiting for a different option; he’s not going to survive until then. No one else is coming. Logan can barely lure Roman out to the grotto, much less someone possibly oceans away.

If he doesn’t do this, he’s going to die.

But at the same time, he can’t do this. He knows instinctively that he will not, under any circumstances, be able to drain Roman.

Logan doesn’t have any other choice though. Not besides death.

Sure, he could abandon Roman, leave him here on the island and use what little energy he has left to swim to somewhere less secluded in the hope that maybe then, someone would hear him. It’s the best choice he has, in all honesty. Even then though, that’s a lot to hope for. That could still very well end in death.

And, though he will never admit it out loud, the sentimental part of himself that grows with every moment spent alongside Roman wants to stay with the man he’s fallen in love with for just a little while longer.

Because this is love. It had taken Logan forever to admit, but what he feels for Roman is love. That’s why he won’t—can’t—drain Roman. That’s why he doesn’t want to leave, even if it would be the best choice for both of them.

Even if it’s likely that Roman doesn’t love him in return.

Even on the off chance that he does, it will never amount to anything, no matter how many hours they’ve spent talking beneath the stars.

Even though Roman is sweet and understanding and kind, even though Roman listens to and cares about him in a way that no one else in his life ever has, even if he’s going to miss Roman more than he can possibly imagine… that won’t change a thing.

Their love will be one that’s doomed from the start. And Logan may be selfish, but he will never allow Roman to be hurt at his hands.

So no matter how much he doesn’t want to, Logan is going to leave. Tonight.

Because he can’t keep luring Roman back, keep singing to him of a dream that will never come true, not if Roman had been right about it. Logan refuses to bring pain to the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

Even if it means returning to a life of loneliness, even if it means breaking his own heart, he has to.

It’s not as though Roman will miss him anyway. Really, this is for the best.

Logan knows this. It’s the only option he has that doesn’t end in his, Roman’s, or both of their deaths. Therefore, logically, he shouldn’t have any doubts about following through with it.

But with love, Logan has found, logic rarely ever has a place. As Roman had said, sometimes you have to “follow your heart” in order to find happiness.

It’s too bad, then, that Logan can’t do that this time. This time, he has to do what’s right.

So, as he’s done every night for the past month, two weeks, and five days, Logan calls out to Roman with the song that has become theirs. “Ah-ah, ah-ah.”

By this point, surely Roman knows that if he wanted to ignore the song, he could. Surely he’s felt its pull growing weaker as Logan’s power dwindles.

But for whatever reason, Roman’s still coming tonight. Logan can feel him and his dream traveling closer, though he genuinely doesn’t know why. Roman could easily leave, so why hasn’t he?

There’s one explanation that Logan can think up off the top of his head, but the idea seems so impossible to him that he denies it the ability to take up any space in his mind. He doesn’t so much as think the words.

🌊

Roman’s journey, as per usual, takes a few minutes. This gives Logan more than enough time to rethink his idea and back out of something that will only bring him pain. He won’t, though. He refuses to allow Roman to be hurt by dragging this out for longer than he ever should have. This is something he should have done long ago if he’s being honest, but this is also the sort of thing that’s done better late than never.

When he hears Roman’s footsteps drawing nearer, Logan begins to sing without preamble, without waiting for Roman to be able to say anything at all. If he starts to talk, Logan will undoubtedly rethink a decision that has to be made. So he sings, losing himself in this final song.

“In the light that falls at moonrise,

In the rhythm of the rain,

In the miracle of ordinary days.

In the hush of night,

I will be in the whispers of lovers

Everywhere

You will find me there.”

Roman silently picks his way over the remain rocks before him, his feet navigating the path deftly in a testament to how often he’s been here. He sits down quietly in front of Logan, listening to the song spun just for him with everything Logan has left to give woven into it.

“In the rustle of a curtain,

In the bustle of the world,

In a thousand little unexpected ways.

When you lift your gaze,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there

Shining everywhere.”

As of this moment, Roman is enraptured by Logan’s voice, unable to fully comprehend the lyrics and their meaning. One day though, he will realize what they mean and hopefully, he will understand. By then though, Logan will be long gone. So perhaps that doesn’t matter at all.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like mercy

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

Just as he had with the very first song he’d sung for Roman, Logan allows him the knowledge of the lyrics to reply with, if he so chooses. Since the song is curated by the sirens’ magic for one person and one person alone, Roman would not know the lyrics on his own. And since Logan has grown to know Roman as an incredibly dramatic person, he knows that he will seize any chance to sing and show off. Tonight is no different.

“In a language never spoken

Lived the promises we made,

In the endless love that owns me, heart and soul.

In the certainty I will always be true

And as near as my next prayer,

You will find me there.”

Logan has to remind himself then that he’s still the siren, not Roman. If he were to be asked though, Logan would have claimed without hesitation that Roman’s voice is the more beautiful one, the most beautiful one he’s ever heard. Truly, it’s no wonder that he’d fallen for this man so easily.

“In the echo of the ocean,

In the haunting of the wind,

In mysterious, extraordinary ways.

Through the darkest sky,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there,

Shining everywhere.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like freedom

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

After Roman’s chorus, there’s the bridge of the song, a bridge that requires the two of them to alternate lines and shape this into an even more lovely duet. The chorus after it follows the same format, and Logan nearly swoons as he realizes how much he’s going to be able to hear Roman’s voice.

“In the harbor quarter.”

“In the stone and mortar.”

Just as he had in Roman’s chosen duet the second time they’d met, Logan allows Roman’s voice to overpower his as they sing together, “In the star that we both share.”

Roman again takes the lead in the next line, “In the sound of laughter.”

“Now and ever after.”

The final part of the song allows their voices to intertwine again, overlapping and harmonizing. Logan is intensely grateful to his magic for choosing such a perfect final song.

“Look for me, I will be there.

I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes.”

“Remember my embrace.”

“I will be there.”

“I’ll be there.” Roman’s line is shortened slightly so he can catch up to Logan and they are able to sing in unison again.

“Like justice,

I will find you through it all.”

“This do I swear.”

“I will be there.”

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

For one final time, Logan and Roman’s voices are lifted in ethereal harmony.

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

As the last note hangs in the air, Logan smiles softly, nearly forgetting why he’d brought Roman here in the first place. But he doesn’t forget when he sees Roman’s eyes on him, glittering in the light of the moon. He remembers why he has to leave, no matter how much his heart may break. So Logan leans forward, resting his forehead against Roman’s in an action that’s as feather-light and loving as a siren’s touch could possibly be.

”Goodbye,” Logan whispers, the word barely a breath on the wind as he leans infinitesimally closer to Roman. For the first time, he connects their lips.

There are no sparks, and the world hasn’t become suddenly perfect. It just feels right. There’s no heat behind the action, just a gentle expression of everything Logan could never possibly say himself. The kiss is soft and short and given time, it could become so much more.

But there’s no time left for them. The only thing Logan can do is whisper another goodbye before sealing his words in place with a second, final kiss. He leans back, and the smile he gives Roman is a sad one.

Wishing he could do anything but this, Logan turns from the man he’s fallen in love with and vanishes into the water with a flick of his tail. Then he’s gone.

---

taglist: @thewhiteraven73

#ts sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #logince #sanders sides au #siren au #fantasy au #roman angst #logan angst #sanders sides secret santa 2019 #kissing #unhappy ending #angst #fanfic #song of a siren au #fic.txt

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 5 years ago

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The Beautiful & Damned (3/7)

Female Reader x Young!Remus Lupin | Female Reader x Young!Sirius Black

Chapter 3: Misread

A/N: I felt like there wasn’t much happening in the first two parts, so I thought I’d post the third chapter tonight. Time for some action, wouldn’t you say?

Thank you so much for reading my writing, for liking it, commenting it... It means the world to me.

Enjoy! x

New to the series? - Accio Chapter 1: The Golden Couple - Accio Chapter 2: No, Definitely

Remus woke up with autumn rays blinding him through a crack in heavy red curtains, adding a cherry glow to his bedsheets. He lifted himself up on his elbows, blinking rapidly. James’ light snoring and a quiet sound of thumping (Peter always kicked the bed in his sleep) mixed in a monotonous melody, that, being usually the first to wake up, Remus was entitled to every morning.

Helpless in the face of an uncomfortable urge, Moony stole a glance at Padfoot’s bed. Sure thing, Sirius naked torso was basking in the glow of the morning sun. Remus expected to feel relieved, knowing that one of his best friends wasn’t spending the night in someone else’s bed, but the satisfaction never came. Feeling heavy and clearly under the weather, Remus threw the covers away and headed straight to showers. Twenty something minutes later he was entering the Great Hall with a Charms book in hand, in hopes of getting a steamy cup of coffee.

There were students seated here and there, and Remus could easily tell the ones who weren’t invited to the yesterday’s party from those who were. The faces of the latter had a little bit of green to them, as they pushed the plates of food away. Remus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Some never learn, he guessed.

His eyes searched for a comfortable spot at the Gryffindor table (not too close to the chatting group of Slytherins at the neighbour table, and not to far off in the corner, so he’d have enough light to read), when he was suddenly struck numb, freezing in place.

Biting your plump lip in concentration, with a heavy fall of sunlit hair cascading on a side, you were hugging one of your knees close to your chest, immersed in a book that lay open in front of you.

Remus nearly voiced the desperate growl forming in his throat. Goddamn if the sight didn’t make him think of darkened rooms and lots of naked skin.

Just when he was about to quickly turn around and go get a cold shower - again (maybe, that’d help him get his vertebra in a row) - you raised your beautiful eyes and spotted him.

A warm smile appeared on your lips as you waved at him, undoubtedly inviting him to join you.

Yep, so much for the cold shower.

Scratching the back of his neck with a free hand, he made his way to you, his entire body burning under curious stares.

He collapsed on the bench across from you with the grace of a young calf, smiling at you a tad awkwardly.

“So,” he said, watching you closely. “What is a beautiful girl like you doing in a place like this… so early in the morning after a booze-filled rave?”

You bit back a laugh, cocking your head to a side.

“Waiting for you, of course,” you said nonchalantly, not noticing however, how Remus paled a shade at your words. “So I could steal food from your plate…”

“And?” relief flooded Remus’ veins, but he refused to show it, serving himself a long-yearned for cup of coffee.

You sighed quietly, your chest rising in the most delicate way. Remus crushed a groan. Like you needed any help being unforgettable.

“I need to tell you something, Rem,” you suddenly said, looking him straight in the eyes and catching him off guard. “With Padfoot and Prongs always around, it ain’t an easy task to get you alone…”

Remus’ face turned to stone, his heart - into a ticking bomb.

Here it went. You knew. He was fucked.

Moony wanted to stand up and run, run far away from there, but forced himself to sit still.

Even if he lost his friend today, the love of his life, the reason to live as this half-human monster, he knew: you were worth every second of heartbreak.

“…Freak…Why are they even friends?…” “Bloody scar face… I bet even his mother didn’t want him.” “The Beauty and the Beast!”

The blood in his veins ran cold as the whispers from the Slytherin table crawled up his spine and to his neck, strangling him. At any other time, Remus would hex all of their asses so hardcore, they’d spent the entire term in the hospital wing, but this was different. It’s like Malfoy and all that band of blabbering baboons were seeing straight into his heart, voicing his every insecurity, everything he knew about himself but was so afraid to acknowledge… And all that in front of a being he loved more than anything in the world.

He dodged your stare, waiting for this public crucifying to be over in silence - so unlike him! - when he suddenly realised he needed to face you. In his heart he knew you were nothing like it, yet still, he internally begged for you to display disgust towards him on your perfect features. Because that’d destroy him. Because that’d make it easier for him to get over you.

What he saw on your face was so much worse. It lasted merely a second, barely a flash, really, but it was enough. Pity.

He could have blinked - and he should have missed it, because seconds later you were sporting a glower fierce enough to put the fear of Merlin in anyone. Seeing your glare, no doubt, the Slytherin table froze quiet.

The silence in the Great Hall was so thick you could cut it with a butterknife, as you rose to your feet, slowly but surely, your eyes dark. Moony forgot everything in the world, even his own name, when he saw you step onto the bench and then up on the table, kicking a pot of boiling hot coffee over.

Excruciatingly slowly you folded your mouthwatering legs, squatting in front of him. Flabbergasted, all Remus could do was gape at you, as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, dragging him up on the table with you.

“Let’s show them bloody idiots, shall we?”

Your face was so close to his, your sweet hot breath bounced off the skin on his neck. In one graceful motion you pulled Remus down by the front of his shirt, crushing your lips against his.

To say that Remus was deliciously overwhelmed would be a scandalous understatement. He wanted to focus on how cold your lips felt against his, or on how your ribcage seemed to connect to his in all the right places so your hearts could sing the same song in unison, but he couldn’t. All he felt, all he could really think of, if you allowed him to think of anything at all, was your taste. Goddamned Godric, you were so tasty. The way your lips opened just enough to let your teeth graze his bottom lip, only to let all that piquant sweetness in! Remus was drinking you in, forgetting everything in the world and never wanting for this moment to end.

That’s it, the thought flashed in his burning mind. This would only last a moment before he had to go back to the real world where girls like yourself only kissed boys like him out of pity and goodness of their hearts. Here and now was all he had, and you’d better bet your ass he was going to enjoy it to the fullest!…

Before he knew it, he was burying his hands in your long, silky hair, tugging at it just a tad. He used his tongue. He used his teeth. He didn’t let you breathe and he didn’t give you any kind of space to move away as he crowded in on you.

No one - he bit your bottom lip ever so slightly, enticing a groan from you, swallowing it off your lips - no one ever kissed you like Remus.

His lips were making sure you knew that whoever you kissed after him could never compare.

Just as you felt his hands snake around your sides in search for warm skin below the edge of the shirt on your lower back, the entire Great Hall erupted in a roar of applause, the sound engulfing both of you.

The cheering went on and on, someone even went as far as throwing a shot of fireworks over your heads.

Brushing his slightly chapped lips against yours, Remus breathed in, looking into your illuminated eyes.

“You sure showed me,” he whispered, his heart tearing apart. Slowly, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. From the corner of his eyes he noticed James and Lily looking at you both from the front rows of the small crowd gathered around you two. James literally had the sun shining out of his ass; Lily beamed at you happily.

“Remus,” your soft voice was suddenly all he could hear. “I really…”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he interrupted you, surprising himself by managing a smile. “I get it, I really do. Don’t worry about it…”

“Remus”, he hated the creases that appeared in between your eyebrows as you frowned. “You don’t understand, I…”

“Forget it, Y/N,” he cut in, a little harsher than he intended. “Thanks for helping out the local beast. We really did show them.”

“Remus, just let me fucking finish!...” you wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him up a tad to make him listen, but he was already out of your reach.

Remus needed to get out of there. All the courage he prided himself on minutes ago disappeared. Still tasting you on his lips, he couldn’t bear to hear you turn him down. Truly, he had never bemoaned all the shitty things that seemed to find their way to his doorstep, even him getting bitten by a werewolf. He had never minded that he always seemed to have some penance to pay, but this… This rejection, ready to fall off your lips, felt like it might be what finally took him out.

“Hey, hey, mate, where are you going?….” James caught him by his shoulders, his expression half amazed, half excited. “What the hell was that?! Are you and Siren…”

“No!” Remus nearly barked in a hoarse voice. “I… I have somewhere to be, Prongs. I’ll… I’ll catch you later., alright?…”

With his heart howling in pain and thumping in his ears, Remus ran out of the Great Hall, people’s stares following him and making him sick.

He did what he had to, be it a little egotistical. This is what he needed in order to stay sane.

He did what was right.

Yet he had never felt so wrong, your taste still sleeping upon his lips…

Accio Chapter 4: Bravado Falls

My Beautiful Taglist (please, hit me up should you want to be tagged or untagged): @jackie-houston, @justducky0423, @zakthedrak, @marauder–harder, @davros2004, @firefurr, @heyjess-marie, @kapolisradomthoughts

#young remus lupin #young sirius black #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #marauders era #marauder imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #moony x reader #padfoot x reader #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter reader insert #harry potter imagine #hogwarts

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girlrottn · 5 years ago

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the 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐹𝐸𝐶𝑇 night for a 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖞 ──

╰ °✧ ( MARGARET QUALLEY, CIS WOMAN, TWENTY-THREE, SHE/HER ) : — ❝ here comes ECHO CLEMONS to help guide the tour ! they’ve lived in deadmore for twenty-three years and do know that the myth is true. besides helping guide you all today, they are also a knife thrower at the deadmore grand carnival ! they’re known around town for being adventurous, courageous, foolhardy, and impulsive. they’re said to give off the sound of roller skates against pavement, curious glances, unmade beds, and autumn leaves stained with blood vibe. some people suspect that they're hiding that they recently joined the cult worshipping the deadmore monster. hopefully the town and tourists don’t find out ! ❞

howdy !! i’m spence, ur local weirdo with unhealthy obsessions w southern gothic shit & vampires !! i’m here to introduce you to my crazy baby echo uwu even tho she’s a little bit evil and a lot a bit weird, she’s not shy at all so feel free to hmu with any and all connection ideas you may have !!! i’m also in the process of getting a wc page set up for her so i’ll make a post linking it when i do !!!

TRIGGER WARNINGS for very brief mentions of death, violence, stabbing below the cut

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒: a rose by any other name would still have thorns.

full name: isabel lynn clemons nickname(s): echo, izzy to family only age: twenty-three date of birth: march 21 gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her orientation: pansexual panromantic religion: raised southern baptist, currently a member of a cult worshipping the deadmore monster occupation: 1/2 of a knife throwing duo at the deadmore carnival / circus, occasionally picks up gigs in the deadmore cabaret at right hand casino in the off season

character & aesthetic inspiration from: rose summerspring ( bad times at the el royale ), donald ray pollock’s ‘ the devil all the time ’, gillian flynn’s ‘ sharp objects ’, every kaleo song asdvadf

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓: resurrection is natural to beautiful things; a flower dies in autumn to be reborn in spring.

isabel clemons was born on the first day of spring in deadmore, georgia. her dad’s side of the family, the clemons’, were an old money family, with roots laid down in deadmore just about as far back as it was founded. and he was expected to keep it that way ─ stay in the town, start a family, continue the tradition that his ancestors started generations back. which is why when he and isabel’s mother, a mississippi woman with strawberry blonde hair and a scowl that could knock a hog dead, had trouble conceiving for a number of years, he was terrified he would disappoint his family. but time, perseverance, and a healthy amount of prayer must have done the trick, because after four years of trying, they finally saw that little blue plus. little isabel was a miracle, it seemed, so she was treated as such. from the time she could toddle, she was handed everything she could ever want. but along with being spoiled, as her parent’s only child, a lot was expected of the girl from a young age. she began ballet when she was four, violin when she was six, always made it to the finals in every spelling be, and only received one b in her entire school career. she had a strict curfew, wasn’t allowed to date, and her parents carefully cherry-picked each of her friends. well mannered, soft voiced, legs crossed, chin down, ladylike. she never lived the life of a teenage girl; instead she existed as some unreachable ideal ─ something to be bragged about, doted on, and appreciated from afar. it was only a matter of time until she snapped. when fall of her senior year in high school rolled around, isabel made the first decision she had ever made without her parents’ expectations in mind. after months of silent contemplation, she decided to forgo sending in college applications. of course, she didn’t tell her parents about it until they confronted her, asking about the lack of letters they had been receiving in the mail and wondering if she was hiding the results. she explained to them what she had done, and that she didn’t want to go to university at all, and unsurprisingly it resulted in an enormous fight. for most eighteen-year-olds yet to finish their senior year in high school, being disowned and kicked out by their parents would be a tragedy, but for isabel it was liberating. she went wild, embraced her newfound freedom. she was reckless, and did things without thought for the first time in her life, even changed her name to something she thought sounded more fun. it didn’t take long for her to lose her grip on reality, to become a hedonist who thrived on adrenaline. maybe that’s why it was so easy for her to say yes when the deadmore grand carnival’s knife thrower ( i may end up putting a wc up for this character so hmu if ur interested !! ) needed a new target girl. she giggled in the face of death in a way that only an unhinged teenage girl could. and she never stopped.

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓: the rose discovers she is an instrument of war

in the years since echo impulsively took on the role of target girl in the carnival’s knife throwing act, she has picked up the skill herself ( her dedication seems to be one of her more redeeming qualities these days ), and the two performers know act as one another’s targets throughout their set. and given her volatile and impulsive nature, it wasn’t difficult for her to be drawn to the cult living in deadmore’s underbelly. she’s always had morbid fascinations, especially about the hushed whispers of the monster that the townspeople keep satiated. inevitably, those fascinations along with her inclination for the grotesque have led her straight to the cult, which she has promptly devoted herself to entirely despite the short time that she’s even known about it.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘: i want to kiss a god or two on the mouth.

echo is usually pretty nice upon first glance ; she grew up being pressed hard to be well mannered, and it isn’t something that immediately dissipated as she grew out of the persona her parents had made of her.

beneath the surface, though, she can be snide and she loves messing with people for no good reason. no joke. like, fucks with tourists and tries to scare them all the time, tells them she’s a vampire or a ghost or something and pulls a whole rouse just because she thinks messing with people is funny.

also has a nasty habit of spreading gossip.

an enormous flirt. she never really did it before, because she wasn’t allowed to date so she just tried to steer clear, and now she’s making up for lost time. *mushu voice* she’ll flirt with you, she’ll flirt with your cow, she’ll flirt with your whole family

undying interest in things she was sheltered from as a kid, most notably chaos, violence, and anything grotesque. eats the shit up. straight up you could stab her hand or some shit and after she got over the pain, she’d just stare at it in fascination. not really averse to death, a late bloomer when it comes to the idea of mortality, doesn’t really subscribe to it. enormous god complex.

all that said, she’s pretty easily manipulated a lot of times, largely because of that same sheltered upbringing. she’s seen a lot more in the past couple of years than most can handle, treating everything like it doesn’t matter and life is just a dream-state she’s stuck in helps, but it also means it’s not hard to get her to go along with what other people want (as long as some kind of benefit for her, no matter how trivial, is presented). pair that with some wild impulsivity and nonchalance about danger and death and you’ve got a fun combo baybee

i’m gonna stop there because i’ve already written waaaayy too much... if you read this whole thing u truly are my hero wow... but that’s my baby !! catch her roller skating around deadmore being nosy in everyone’s business. call her isabel and she’ll slap u ! feel free to come scream at me if u wanna do things with her, thanks for coming to my ted scream goodnight

#no proof reading we die like men #dm.intro #i rlly don't know when to stop huh

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rjmorrisonuniverse-blog · 5 years ago

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Nolan and the One-Hook Day

1. NOLAN

What a shit storm of a day.

Distilled angst, chain of events, cosmic joke funnel, harpoon of the gods.

I know as I sit near him that I will have to throw the best punch I have ever thrown; one with technique and violent finality. I'll have to lift up from the chair, slide it back as I tell him "I'm going for a piss", and deliver the perfect right hook that begins from my heel and gains muscle torque up the calf, thigh and buttocks. I'll pivot with it as I rise and all my years of practice should unconsciously find that sweet spot on his jawline. I have to throw for a kill.

One chance or else big trouble.

Even I know that you don't get into punch-ups with massive off-duty cops.

One knockout hook, and an expedient exit through the side door on the far end of that pool table. It has to be soon, before the after work crowd shows up and this shit-hole becomes witness city. Before the pork behemoth gets even nastier and I run out of time. You bet your ass the pig reference is intended; this guy has the face of a swine. Mammoth jarhead on a stump neck with beady red rimmed eyes and nose vascularity that bespeaks years of hard drink. His voice is gravel, whisky phlegm and flat hard, and his salt and pepper goatee has an ugly way of framing an unsmiling mouth.

Motherfucking pig, prick, douchebag.

I guess we should backtrack some. My name is Nolan. You don't need the surname, so get over it right now. I work for a metal stamping plant, and we make mostly automobile fenders. The job pays well but the environment is a hell on earth; a gargantuan space lit by low sodium lamps that hang forty feet above the floor. Two-storey tall machines that thump and roar like monsters starved for metal and perhaps human flesh, and a long shift there with earplugs inserted and legs taking shock after shock wave is about as otherworldly a job as I've ever had.

Is it any wonder I amped up my mixed martial arts training and aimed at the UFC?

Lunch breaks at A.G. Simpson were hilarious, as the zombies filed into the cafeteria in various states of exhaustion, depression, hangover, debt, disillusion. Even there, with the long bank of windows that overlooked the main work area below, the fucking lighting was brutal. In your face harshness, bad food, a sickly mint green high gloss paint on the cinder block walls... I mean, no amount of overtime could justify my being there and ONLY there to make ends meet. I remember a painting crew that was hired to spray the ceilings and recoat the washrooms, and those guys were freaked OUT by the vibe. They took their breaks in the cafeteria too, cursing themselves for not bringing their own food to the job, bitching about the watery vending machine coffee, and more than a dozen times asking us "how the fuck do you stand working here?"

So, given my size and mindset coupled with a love for man-to-man conflict resolution, it was a no-brainer for me to embark on a little side action in the octagon. I started as a gangly kid with the amateur boxing and proved a quick study with natural power in each hand. Even with the headgear and twelve ounce gloves I was knocking people out cold, and sparring partners too. I always seemed to have that mean in me, but as lady luck, that rotten bitch, would have it... I was a "cutter". If I didn't knock his ass out in the first couple of rounds, sooner or later I'd be bleeding. Bottom lip, bridge of nose, and for a brief stint in the pro circuit, both eyelids. I was an undefeated slugger fighting out of a loser gym, punching for power and lantern jawed, but that goddamned skin of mine pushed me toward MMA combat, and that was fine by me. I didn't like my fellow man as a rule, and most days, hitting him made more sense than conversation.

I started out lucky, through a cousin who was being trained in the Pat Miletich camp, and found myself under the tutelage of the great man himself. I could list details about the intensive training that mixed kickboxing and Jiu-jitsu, Pat's karate methods and a stripped down version of Thai boxing that seemed best suited to my power... I could talk about the first dozen fights in Iowa, all victories by knockout in the first round.

I was busting my hump at the metal stamping plant all day, training five nights a week, and taking fights for shit money anywhere they would put me. Eventually I was given an opportunity to match up against a name opponent, even though his career was on the downward spiral, and representatives from the UFC were ringside. That was one motherfucker of a highlight reel knockout, let me tell it. My six foot four two hundred fifty pound hammer was primed to drop and I don't mind saying that poor bastard was knocked out during the stare down. Stoked? Homicidal.

The first thing he attempted was a leg kick, and in missing, he presented me with a clean shot at his mandible. I saw his eyes go all wide and wild just as I uncorked a sweet left uppercut and felt that indescribable delicious shock of connection when it exploded on the sleep spot under his chin. He was out before his head bounced off the canvas, and even today the debate continues about what killed him; the punch or that heavy landing. My celebrations ended when I saw that he wasn't getting up, and by the time the stretcher arrived I knew it was serious. I won't lie to you. I won't say it chewed me up inside that my opponent died a week later. These are gladiators and they go into it fully aware of the dangers. Highly skilled, trained to the nth degree, all it takes between two combatants in that arena is a nanosecond of error and somebody's lights go out.

Permanent injury, career ending injury? Not common, but I wasn't a common hitter either. Maybe we can thank my father for that. Every opponent wore his face and I don't throw to win. I throw to injure.

I was told that a contract was being drawn up for me in the aftermath of that fight; that all the way up to Dana White's office, the name "Nolan" was being spoken as the next money magnet. Then that poor bitch died and the contract offer was postponed until the media hornets nest died, too. I was pissed, maybe even a little at myself, and for sure at the man whose physically abusive ways had forged the fires that shaped me.

Two weeks later, I busted up one of Miletich's top young prospects during a heated sparring exchange, and that was the end of my UFC dream. Back to the zombie show at A.G. Simpson I went, and no amount of prying from fellow workers would get me to talk about just how close I had come to fame and financial freedom. Fuck it, fuck them, and fuck dreams. That became my mantra, and I withdrew into a mean sonofabitch's shell. Nobody messed with me back then.

Well, not until I took on that part time gig as a bouncer at Bunny's strip club. That was where I met Sherry-Ann.

2. SHERRY-ANN

Here in the bottom of the barrel tavern, I motion to the waiter for two more pints and listen to the gravelly voice of the big prick sitting at the corner of the table. He's talking about his failed marriages, the failings of the judicial system, the failure of society to appreciate what he does for a living. Failure? I'll show the motherfucker failure. Then, as the waiter sets down two more pints, I hear off-duty pig's speech beginning to slur.

"You shoulda been a cop". He fixes his cold eyes on me, looking at my down-to-the-wood hairstyle and clean cut features. He's bitching about the career path and in his next beery breath he's pitching a sale.

"My woman wouldn't have anything to do with me if I was a cop", I tell his stump of a face while Sherry-Ann drops the needle down on some distant memory that plays a song of sex and rage. Pig-mug leers into his ale, and I glance down at the broad knuckles across my right hand, square and knobby and designed for pain delivery. I had been forming a fist as he bitched about his marriages, and now I force myself to flatten out the fingers on my thigh.

You may have thought that Sherry-Ann was a stripper, based on my mention of the club where I watched the door and floor. Nothing against the girls inside who worked the laps for money, but I would never date a peeler. I fucked a couple of them when I first took the job because they were practically throwing it at me. These all-American clean cut features of mine would have been enough, but toss in some nasty scar tissue and my indifferent conduct, and it was shooting fish in a barrel time. I don't pretend to understand the mind of a woman, but there is a fundamental truth about their being attracted to rough men. They may not love us in a lasting way, but a lot of them want us between their legs.

My first weekend on the job, on the Saturday shift, this feature dancer "Savannah" kept taking her breaks in the entrance lobby, near the door and near me. Nothing wrong with my meat radar, and I knew where the harpoon was headed. This joint, "Bunny's", was a rough place in a nasty part of southside downtown. Blood spatter on the sidewalk out front was common, and in time a lot of it was extracted by yours truly in the doing of his job; I always thought it funny how these down and out motherfuckers could find money for beer and lap dances. How many of them had wives and hungry children at home?

Some of them came in looking for trouble, pissed off at the world, and I took pleasure when reducing their dietary needs to soup. The owner of the place didn't give a shit how we did our duty, as long as the money came in and the cops stayed away and the girls were kept happy. So, when Savannah finished her final three song set of the night, instead of taking private dance requests she asked me if I would join her for a drink. Rose, the owner, cleared it with "Night's almost over... long as you keep an eye on the room."

Savannah and I shared a small table near the entrance door, and she did most of the talking while I admired her rack and scanned the patrons. Her body language was nothing less than a carnal invitation, with those shapely legs spread and her hand coming up often to touch my bicep, forearm, knee. A vacant, giggling, augmented and needy blonde caricature.

Shift finished, I invited her back to my two-bedroom apartment for a few more drinks and some good hard fucking, but on the way out the back door I first saw Sherry-Ann and she laid a burn job on my mind. She was leaning forward to talk to a potential client through the driver side window, and I caught sight of long-honed legs flowing up into a tightly rounded naked ass calling to me beneath her hiked black skirt. Statuesque, easily six feet without the twat-for-sale boots, and when she heard the back door squeal open and slam shut she turned for a second to shoot me and my companion a hard appraising look. The street lamp threw a sleazy orb over her beautiful features, with that young Margot Kidder sneer, too much lipstick and tumbling waves of ludicrous wig-red tresses tickling the mid back.

Untamed; that was the immediate impression. Lanky and dangerous and maybe a little crazy, and the kind of bedroom ride that was sure to be a roller coaster. We experienced that intense time-stand-still-eye-lock and I felt the kinetic energy between us that stayed with me all through the next two hours of sex with Savannah. That final climax, doggie style with her face pushed into the back of my sofa and her hands braced against the wall... that was another woman's bird I was basting. A woman I was determined to meet at the next opportunity. I remember drama-Savannah's look of injury when I handed her cab fare at four in the morning and bluntly told her I needed to sleep alone. She tried to protest and I gave it to her straight - "We both got what we wanted tonight, and now it's time for you to piss off."

"You really shoulda been a cop, I'm telling you."

I nod as if in agreement, look at the clock above the bar and realize that I'll have to do my thing soon. Sherry-Ann will be expecting me home from work, completely unaware that my day is an official shit-storm only beginning to hit the fan. The huge man sitting with me lifts the pint of ale to his mouth, still glaring my way over the rim, and I see his police-issue service revolver sitting snugly in its shoulder holster. The open front of his brown suede jacket, the bulging stomach, massive arms barely contained by sleeves, and a pungent body odor of sickening complexity.

This doomed fuck doesn't have a clue that I followed him here.

3. PARENTING

A week after I first laid eyes on Sherry-Ann's lanky goods, I was on duty at Bunny's with a sense of excitement that I hadn't felt in a long time. The shift was uneventful, and when I went through the back door, there she was at the end of the block with another chick. I thought about walking over to her, but decided to roll up in my Grand National. It was a hot night and she was sweetly tucked into a pair of high-riding denim shorts and a tight red t-shirt with black boots at the mid-calf; straight platinum blonde wig. I saw her eyes move from her companion as I rode up slowly, window down.

What a fucking body. Built for cock of Nolan. I can't explain the power of the attraction, and I had never considered paying for sex even once in my life. She just had that sneer, defiance, youthful strut and a physique to match. I'll admit that I had a soft spot for the ladies of the night, because my mother had been one, and I hate on pimps and everything they represent. Sure, I had some Travis Bickle in me, and Sherry-Ann was my Jodie Foster.

"Looking for a date?" her upper lip curled at the corner, and then I could see her remembering me from the weekend before. She smiled as I stopped, and her girlfriend took a long look through the windshield before casually strolling around the corner out of sight. "Hey, I remember you, stud."

Long story short, we did a little negotiating and she got in the car. I drove around the block and parked in behind Bunny's near the fire escape and garbage bins. Very romantic. Turned out that Sherry-Ann was new to this stroll, and didn't fuck. She was oral only, and I had to wear a jimmy hat Her old man was a biker-type who also had a piece of the action in the very club where I worked; a few girls who took on after hours customers at his command. He'd taken a shine to his newest meat, and didn't want Sherry-Ann riding any cock but his. I was as stiff as a fucking girder when she started stroking me through the dress slacks, but when I tried to enjoy her tits she moved my hand away gently, bending to unzip me and set the crowbar free. As soon as she started rolling that goddamned rubber over the head I could feel myself losing the erection.

"This isn't how I want it" I told her flatly, and she froze, raised herself back up and looked me long in the eyes. I remember thinking that I knew her from somewhere, maybe another life, and for the first time in my thirty four years I felt that I wanted something intensely. Her. "I wouldn't mind grabbing a coffee somewhere for half an hour, for the same money, if that's cool."

We started that way, and for weeks I would take her to a seedy twenty four hour diner near her stroll, to learn about her life and tell her about mine. Both of us were survivors of violent childhoods, but her father was nothing compared to the evil piece of shit that was mine. Her dad was heavy into the booze, gambling, and spousal abuse. My father was the angriest most self-entitled rage-aholic in existence, and from my first childhood memories it was his fists that marked my growth.

That prick verbally abused my mother and took sadistic pleasure in kicking the shit out of his only child. As I grew into a large teenager, the beatings escalated in duration and ferocity. He never told me why he hated me, but I knew instinctively that my life had been an accident... a miserable wait around that cocksucker's reality. As Sherry-Ann and I shared these sad stories over coffee, we could feel a mutual caring develop between us, and I always had that sexual hunger for her.

In time, she trusted me enough to explain that she wanted to get away from "Roy", who was becoming increasingly demanding and violent. He'd brought in another girl from the bus terminal, and that was his new top bitch. Sherry-Ann had to start earning like the other girls, and when she told me that, I took care of the situation for her. I spent a couple of weeks in hiding, watching for this fucker, and quickly enough I was able to figure out his schedule. He'd roll around just after the sun went down, in a beat up blue panel van, and again after three in the morning to collect the pussy rent... I waited for the Thursday of the third week, told Sherry-Ann exactly what I planned to do, ignored her warnings and pleas, and when Roy showed up later that night for his money...

Nolan came out of the shadows across the street. Roy was in the driver's seat, window down, in conversation with one of the other girls and I casually walked around the back of the van to push his bitch out of the way with my right hand before looping a short left hook into the center of his face; it had brutal follow-through and Roy's head whiplashed before he hit the bench seat sideways. Two of the girls started running away, but Sherry-Ann stayed for the show. I yanked open the door and grabbed a generous handful of beard and long hair, pulled the semi-conscious Roy back to a sitting position. The blood was cascading out of what remained of his nose, down his shirt and vest, all over the money he had dropped into his lap. I gave him a good shake and his eyes rolled open, tried to focus, and before he could attempt anything I drove a hateful straight left into his open mouth, putting him OUT. I loved the sight of him sagging back to a lying position in a grotesque slow motion of jaw-hanging gore. "Sherry-Ann is with ME from now on" I shouted into the cab, and who knows if he heard it or not...

"Call an ambulance for this piece of shit, and let's go get your things." An hour and two pieces of luggage later, Sherry-Ann took refuge in my apartment. A roach-infested den of depression and about as dead end as it gets for a pretty young runaway of twenty three. We had sex for the first time that night; a two-way act of consumption that I won't ever forget. We felt like we knew each other far beyond those few weeks of talking, and her forthright way of telling me how to fuck her, how to do the things that she needed done, the way her sexy mouth formed a leering curve when she came so hard and violently around me. It would be a long time before she heard it, but when I called in sick the next morning, I was sure I could love her.

Roy? He hadn't seen what hit him. I heard that he lost most of his upper and lower plate, had to have his nose reconstructed, and a few weeks after that night he and his women vanished from Bunny's and the block. Sherry-Ann settled in with me, took a waitressing job, and we fell into a year-long calm spell... I had saved almost all of my earnings over the past eight years and we made plans to get a house together outside the city core. We had a friendship and the sex was ferocious, but there were hurdles to overcome. I helped Sherry-Ann quit the glass pipe, and she helped me open up.

Which brings me back to this nameless drinking hole and the large man sharing a scarred wooden table with me. Brings me to a heartbeat of hate, and the day that marked the history of Nolan with a river of tainted blood.

4. SHIT, MEET THE FAN

A Friday that began like any other, with the five thirty alarm. Sherry-Ann's warmth against me under the sheets, and the new anticipation of weekend reward in my life. I gave up the bouncer gig at the strip club to spend weekends with my woman, and for the first time ever I had days to look forward to during the workweek. Long lazy mornings in bed together, watching television, having sex, lost in conversation... me, the short fuse with lots on his mind and little to say. Simple, beautiful hours.

That Friday I ate my breakfast alone then walked quietly into the bedroom to kiss Sherry-Ann on the forehead as she slept. Me, the guy who told himself he would never give a shit about anyone... she was asleep on her side, dark brown hair fanned out across the pillow. I ran it through my fingers to make myself believe again that this amazing change had come to my existence, and then left to make the half hour trip to the A.G. Simpson metal stamping plant. I first noticed the horizon of fire when I made the turn into the industrial park on Laird avenue; jet black smoke billowing upward to form the devil's cloud cover, licked from below by a massive wall of flame. I hit the gas and felt my guts sink into the comfortable abyss of my usual state of being, knowing what I was going to see at the end of the avenue, reaching for the radio as I saw the rows of cars lining each side and stopped by a phalanx of police cruisers, ambulances, and fire trucks. The all-news station was on the scene and I learned that a huge explosion had ripped through my place of employment, killing four workers and injuring dozens of others.

"Jesus H. Fuck!" I pulled over and parked on the strip of grass adjacent to the two lane blacktop, got out to watch the blaze. Co-workers either sat in their cars or stood around in groups, shaking their heads at the sight of the apocalypse before them. A couple of them acknowledged me with nods, but most of them ignored me. I told you before, people tended to avoid me and I like it that way. I asked a couple of the guys what they knew, and nobody had shit for info other than the explosion happened just before dawn. Fuck me, I kept thinking, there goes work for a while. Maybe for good if the place is gutted.

I went back to the car, sat and watched the show, and after a couple of hours it occurred to me that I should just go the fuck home to be with the only person I cared about before she went in to work her half day. All the way back toward the small house we were renting, my mind was in a fog that reminded me of the worst of times during my childhood. My sixteenth birthday, when the man who called himself my father arrived to take me out of school because my mother had overdosed on heroin. Waiting in the hospital as she fought her last battle, he found a way to blame me, and that night after her death the beating he dished out had me fearing for my own life. I fought him back for the first time, and even though I hurt that motherfucker, he got the best of me and I spent two days in my room bruised, battered, and determined to leave. Two weeks later, he went in to work the night shift and I escaped. Some day I'll tell you about those first few months... I did things to survive that no one should resort to. If not for my mother's sister, I wouldn't be here today to break deserving skulls.

A half block away from the house I could see a car in the parking pad. A rusty Pontiac Laurentian, dented along the passenger doors and crusted with dirt. What the fuck? I glanced at my watch and it came from the stomach up to my throat; a sick knowledge of a thought that I stopped from forming... without realizing it I was on the brake and slowing. Ten in the morning on a day I'm not supposed to be here until five thirty. She goes to work at twelve, comes home before five. I put the car in reverse and backed up to park against the curb about a dozen houses away from mine, killed the engine and sat in silence. I watched the car in the driveway, looked at the front of the bungalow that framed the inevitable act of betrayal that life had in store for guys like me. For the first time in nearly twenty years I didn't take immediate action. I couldn't, man. I was paralyzed with a cold sweating fear, choking on a feeling like being trapped in a plunging elevator. There was no rationalizing in the car that morning as I sat there watching and so certain that Sherry-Ann was in there destroying us with another man who was soon to pay a price beyond reason.

Almost two hours went by, in a blur, before I decided to leave the car. I strolled over to the house, slowly and not feeling anything I can describe. I was thinking about a movie that I'd seen called "Into The Night", where the main character played by Jeff Goldblum comes home early to find his wife screwing someone. As I walked between my place and the neighbour's, around the side to the back bedroom window, my mind went numb. I always knew that God had put me here in this body for a lifetime of getting fucked. Life is a better fuck than pussy. Life is a twenty four and seven joystick, motherfuckers.

Our bedroom windows bottomed at eye level. An air conditioner filled the lower section of the far pane, so I cupped my hands around my eyes and peered through the glass of the east frame... the blinds weren't dropped all the way down to the sill and I was able to make out the two shapes on our bed. The bottom of the bed faced the windows, giving me a clear enough look at his big legs and ass as he pumped his erection into her. I felt a scary chill of calm for a moment, watching his balls move back and forth as he rode that beautiful pussy and blocked her from my view through sheer bulk. The sight of her long naked legs, one bent upward and one straightened, and a small hand gripping the blankets... that started the tears and I turned away quickly to walk back to the car.

Those were the longest two hours of my life, longer even than the wait for news about my mother that afternoon in the hospital. I'm not a smoker, so I sat and chewed gum in silence, waiting and getting used to the idea that once again, the dream is over. Fuck life, fuck love, and fuck dreams. Welcome back to reality. You fell for a whore, asshole. She's been turning tricks on the side all this past year and you bought the Hallmark card version of what it should have been and isn't. Last Friday had been a good fucking day that lasted clear through until the following Monday, and THIS one is the end of the world as you know it. Job, woman? Fuck you. Gone.

The bartender, myself and this half drunken off-duty pig, plus six others who sit at the bar on the far side of this shit-hole. Four hours ago I watched this man leave my house through the front door, as though it were his, and casually get into his old Pontiac. I gave him a decent head start and then followed him across town into the city core. He parked in front of a tired brownstone on the south side, got out and lumbered up the stoop past a sign that read "short term rentals available", and I parked further up the street and did some more waiting. Him first, her later. I couldn't believe it and yet it made perfect sense. I'd deal with him, then Sherry-Ann would get one chance to explain this to me. Just one. I turned to lean against the driver's door, stretched my legs out across the seats, flexed my fingers, and watched the front door of that brownstone. When I made the decision to stop waiting he emerged from the building wearing the same clothes, and I followed him to the fucking dive that now serves as the shit-storm epicentre.

I gave it fifteen minutes before I entered the nameless hole. It took my eyes a moment to adjust from bright afternoon to damaged liver gloom, and the smell of piss and old beer and sweat that hit me like a swinging back-fist. All eyes turned at my entrance, but he was hunched over a pint and facing away from the front door and was the only one not to see me come in. I went straight to the bartender and asked him in a low voice what "that guy over there" was drinking, ordered two pints, and walked the length of the room to his table.

I set the pints down in the middle of the tabletop and pull out a chair around the corner from his, and he looks first at me and then the beer. Back at me, eyes widening as I lower myself and bore lasers into his pupils. "Still a cop?" I slide one pint toward him and raise mine up for a good swallow. He doesn't answer right away, staring me in the face, sizing me up, lost in something... "YOU shoulda been a cop" he mutters. "I followed you here" I tell him right away, let it soak in for a moment. "From the place where I'm staying?" he runs a huge hand through his goatee and greying hair. "No, from my place... the factory where I work is burning today."

He nods slowly, looking down into his beer... "been looking for you, son."

"I've never been your son, mister. I have the scars to prove it."

"I heard you left the city to stay with your aunt for a long time... " his voice trails off in memory. "So you found out where I live, dropped by for a friendly visit, did you?" He smirks a little and I almost throw the bomb right then, but it isn't the right time... I'm throwing for a kill, remember. I play it like I don't mind that he found me, and of course he has no idea that I saw him fucking my woman... no idea that as I sit here getting psyched up to stop his motherfucking heart, my own has been smashed. "So here I am, sir. What can I do for you?" he smirks again.

And it goes like that for nearly an hour, as this beastly childhood force sits next to me and attempts to... what? Atone for something? Correct the damage that he inflicted on his only child? I sit here and listen to his talk about the difficulty of losing my mother, and the failed second and third marriages. I let him ramble through his anger, and I hear nothing but an older version of the gigantic negative force that took all of my potential and crushed it into a compact life-hating machine. I can't even come up with one iota of pity for this prick, and now it's Sherry-Ann I'm thinking of as I glance again at the wall clock and decide it's time. How she could betray me... us... like that, and with THIS of all monsters.

"Tell me something" I interrupt his self pitying rant about spineless judges. "How much did you pay?" He looks at me stupidly, one bushy eyebrow lifting. "For Sherry-Ann this morning" I raise my voice a notch. "What did that cost you?" His hand comes up with the pint as he says "I didn't pay" and I slide the chair back, start the hook from my hip as I rise and pivot to throw thirty five years of poison through my torso and shoulder and forearm and fist as a projectile unlike any I've ever unleashed. Instinctively aimed for his heavy jawline as he tries to react too late, jerking beer over the rim of his glass when I land it and envision my knuckles removing his lower face. The jolt of it through my arm is like an orgasm and he and the chair hit the floor as though a wrecking ball has swung into the tavern. I'm not even looking at the others in the room, and in one chain of events I squat to look at his hanging jaw and the teeth that he is pushing out of his mouth with a bleeding tongue.

The cocksucker is still conscious but the force of the hook has probably broken his neck. I've never seen a head swivel like that. I grab a handful of vest and start dragging him across the floor as the witnesses just begin to realize what has happened, maybe not even giving a damn in a place this rough. I drag the piece of shit across the floor and his face is hitting the legs of chairs, his arms are limp. The bartender yells "hey! take that shit out of here" and I feel a nasty smile crack my mouth. The door near the pool table has one of those metal bars on it that you push, so I lift up my prey with both hands and ram his face into it. Outside in the late afternoon sunshine I can see that his fucking head looks like a shotgun suicide, and his breath is heavy and blood thick. There's a big blue garbage dumpster around back, and I drag him face down by the vest collar, hearing his gun scrape along the asphalt, feeling the swelling along the top of my hand.

I prop him up in a sitting position against the dumpster and step back to deliver a looping head kick to his temple. His skull whiplashes and he hits the parking lot on his right side. I feel myself nod in agreement, then finish him off with a short toe kick to the throat. From the moment I first hit him to the lifting and tossing of his body into the dumpster I have been outside of myself. I take one final look at his imploded features and spit on them, dropping the metal lid down on the fucking garbage.

Do you think the blades of the fan are now filled with shit? No. There's just one more detail to cap my Friday to end all Fridays. I drive back to my house, just ahead of rush hour traffic. My hand is swollen and cut where I clipped his teeth. My mind is a seething pit of rage and fatality. I don't care about a fucking thing at this point other than to have Sherry-Ann look at me with her gorgeous eyes and talk me out of this crescendo. Tell me it was a moment of weakness, of old habits dying hard... tell me what you have to but tell me everything will be okay.

I pull into the driveway, enter the house, and see that she is home early. Her purse and shoes and waitress outfit are all in the living room. The house is silent and I walk quickly down the middle hall toward the last room on the left where she is lying in bed with her eyes wide open and the belt from her bathrobe knotted up around her neck. My breath hitches in my chest. I turn on the ceiling light. The bedsheets are on the floor, the pillow case beneath her spattered in blood, the tip of her tongue is showing between bloody lips. I nod again in agreement with the universe. Nolan is getting cosmic-fucked now. How DARE I fall in love? Who am I to change what I am?

In an echo of my earlier gesture that morning, I bend over Sherry-Ann to kiss her forehead, then close her eyelids. No tears now. I pack one piece of luggage, turn off the bedroom light, and get into the car to head for the nearest automatic teller. I'll get a hotel room and tomorrow I clear out my savings. Nolan blows this town forever. I'm on a mission now, and before I'm finished people will know about me from coast to coast.

Every lowlife motherfucker in every shitty part of every city has it coming, and I'm the delivery boy.

#fiction short-story #brutalism

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missblissy · 6 years ago

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33 tragic keepsake?? Make it as angsty as you can, with Arthur please and thank you. I love your writing!! I want to feel the pain with this one!!

Trope Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a trope that I’ll use to write a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🖋️ for a random number instead. All tropes taken from TV Tropes

33. — tragic keepsake

((Thank you very much for providing this chance to break some hearts. WARNING!!! THIS IS ANGSTY!!! MENTIONS OF SUICIDE!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH THIS TOPIC!!!))

It was like walking on ice the whole time. Each little step was on your tiptoes, trying not to disturb the world around you. This journey was so hard. It always was. Every year on the same day you’d make sure to take the long walk up the mountainside. You chose the more scenic path because you had so many memories attached to the trail hidden by trees. A cough escaped your lips as you tracked on.

You could remember the warm spring you first found this little hidden pathway. You smiled as the memory flooded your mind. You rode on your horse, side by side with a man you loved more than anything else in this awful, evil world. The two of you talked on and off about this and that, chuckling at any jokes that passed between the two of you.

His name was Arthur. Arthur Morgan, a man truly of the west. He may have sung little songs calling you the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He’d sing that song, “Still I love my faithless Flora, the Lily of the West.” Every time he mumbled the little tune, you’d smile and blush like a school girl. He was so sweet, and so very sweet on you. You missed the sound of his voice the most.

You took this path by foot now, not wanting to rush by on horseback. You’ve done for several years now. It had to... what? 20 years now? 25? You weren’t sure, really, and it didn’t matter how long it’d been either. It only mattered that you had to do this.

You looked at every little detail, how everything has changed, but it was still the same too. The forest looked as cluttered and deep as always and smelled of sweet wild lilac bushes. His favorite flower... He loved them and their pungent smell. Arthur would go wild for lilacs, and he’d simply just grab a bundle of flowers and stuff his face in them and take the deepest breath. He was such a silly man.

The forest slowly grew less and less as you ventured further up the mountainside. If you were lucky, you’d get there by sundown. The backpack you slugged around your back had everything you needed in it. It was heavy and made your back ache out in pain but you ignored it and went on.

Off the side of the trail, you noticed a familiar sight. A rock that was riddled with bullet holes and once was stained with blood. The memory came flooding in whether you wanted it too or not. You traced a hand lightly on your side through your shirt. The gunshot wonder always felt numb and sensitive at the same time. You nearly died there on that rock while Arthur rushed to murder and save your life simultaneously. What day that was. Despite the tragicness of it, you still smiled at that memory.

Arthur had picked you up and carried you by foot for almost a mile before you found your horses again. They ran away in the commotion of the shoot out and they ran far. You were bleeding out on him as he carried you bridal style, “You’re a mess,” You told him, “I’m gonna die here and you’re going to be a mess,”

“You ain’t gonna die” You could remember how his face twisted up when he said that. “You’ve made a mess of me before and this ain’t gonna be that last time. You got plenty more messes to make.”

He was right. You lived, painfully so, but you lived and healed to see another day. You wished he was here, at the moment, right now as you left the forest for open rocky cliff sides. You were always afraid of heights, you use to hold tight to Arthur’s hand and clung tightly to his arm. You couldn’t stand seeing the drop, it caused you to go light headed and near piss yourself from the sheer fear of falling. You had to hold back a harsh cough while you carefully clung to the cliffside.

The sun was starting to set. You could see its slow descent into the hilly horizon it called its grave. The trip was already more than half done. You only had a bit left to go. You always loved sunsets, but your moved sunrises more. Just like Arthur.

The two of you had so much in common. It’s funny because it took years of fruitful friendship to finally say those three simple words of “I love you.”

You could remember that do so clearly. The crip clean memory waved into your thoughts quickly. It was a cool summer morning further out west in the desert. You had woken up to a letter on the table beside your tent, asking you to meet someone somewhere far away. You knew the location, it was a small lake that went back and forth between full and empty with the rainy season. There was always a deep save system and waterfall that also came and went with the seasons. You went there, to the little lake, and found a camp set up just at the mouth of the caves.

The remains of the spring rain trickled down in a small misty waterfall that never truly reach the lake’s surface, and rather just blew away in the wind. You found Arthur there, waiting for you. He seemed nervous and more of a mess than usual. You were both so young, and yet so old. Someplace in the middle of 23 and 28, after Arthur got over his heartbreak with Mary. You thought the two of you would always be friends, but he loved you, and he knew he hurt you choosing Mary over yourself.

So he made it up to you in the best way he could. He got you alone, told you his feelings and waited for you to say something. When you returned his feelings, saying how much he meant to you, but how hard it was and how painful it was to be ignored and pushed aside for someone else. He admitted his wrongs, called himself a fool and bitterly laughed. He wanted to make it up to you so he made you an entire dinner over the fire and asked if he could give you something as a keepsake to always remember him buy.

You remembered as you grew closer and closer to your destination, and lifted your hand to grasp the locket around your neck. How many years have you worn that thing? You were so god damn young, you didn’t have a clue..

That night long ago, Arthur gave you that locket. When he gave it to you, you expected there to be a picture of some kind it in, like most lockets. But there was no picture. It was a large but beautiful locket big enough to fit a small note in it, that when folded a hundred and ten times, could easily fit nice and snug inside.

There was also room for something else that you could hear even now clinking around in there as you walked your step cliffside path. You knew the note by heart. In your thoughts, you repeated it to yourself.

(Y/N),

I’ve done you wrong, so many times. You’ve stuck with me since I could remember. For all those years we grew up together, I’m glad it was you. I wouldn’t have it any other way, or anyone else. I’d do it all again if it meant I got to be with you. I know many people have told you this before, but you beautiful, and in my eyes, you’re so simply perfect. I can’t stand the thought of losing you. The way your eyes light up when you see me, the way you laugh quietly at my boring jokes, the way you lean your head on my shoulder when we sit by the fire. You give me a comfort I never knew, and I don’t want to let that go. The last few months with you attached at my hip has honestly changed my world, I’m glad your there. I’m glad I can tell you about my day, about the things I do, the people I rob, the things I steal... The crimes I commit. As much as I hate it that is apart of me that is so hard to hide. I could never have that with anyone else but you... I have to say it. I love you. I really do. I love you and want to give you this note and this ring for the day I can finally call you mine, that is if you’ll have me because I certainly want to be yours.

The note had turned yellow after all these years, and some tears and holes had made their way into the delicate paper. The ring he gave you chimed inside the locket, ringing out slightly at each step you took. The sun was finally setting below the hills. You had made it in time to the familiar open cliffside.

It hurt. It hurt a lot and no matter how many times you looked at it, it was like the pain was as fresh and as new as the day it happened. Your old body had was crying out in pain from such a long walk with no rest at all. You were old enough to be someone grandma. Maybe even a great grandma. You were young and healthy anymore, your old and dying at your own pace. You wished it came a little sooner as you stared at the cross that marked the grave of the man you always loved. His grave was overrun with flowers, and lilacs of course, that you planted there yourself some odd decade ago.

“Hello, my darling,” You spoke quietly as you got down on your knees only a few inches away from his grave. You pressed a hand into the old aging wood, feeling the smoothness that weathering has caused. You missed him. So much, so fucking much. It hurt every second to be there.

He would have loved this spot, Charles did a good job of that. You fought back the tears and smiled, “Happy anniversary, Arthur,” You quickly wipped away a tear before it could fall, “I hope you’re doing well,” You reached for the chain of the locket, pulling it off your neck. You opened it up, the ring and note fell into your lap. You picked up the ring and put the note back where it belonged.

“I’ve been holding onto this god damn ring for so long,” This wasn’t the ring he gave you that night in the desert. That ring was snug on your finger. The one you held now was Arthur’s matching wedding band to yours. You coughed a few times, feeling the sharp shooting pain cut open your lungs, “God damn you, Arthur. I loved you, I still love you. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

You knew damn well that this was going to be your last visit to Arthur, this going to be your last anything.

Your voice cracked while speaking to the grave, “You got me sick,” You whispered while place his wedding band into the dirt at the base of the cross, “I’m dying...” It felt so strange to finally admit it out loud, “I’m dying and I’m scared.”

Trying your best, you made your old body comfortable on the hard ground. You could remember that perfect day were you and Arthur eloped and certainly ran away for a month. Funny, because Arthur always gave John a hard time for leaving for so long. Maybe because you were married by the time John was old enough to ride a horse. You guys came back, eventually, you called that month away, a honeymoon and it was very nice, perfect even. A whole month camping out in a rental cabin, with just Arthur and no one else. You wished you could go back.

Speaking off, “I haven’t seen anyone, no one... in years. I don’t think John or Abigal is alive anymore... I... I tried reaching out. To Sadie too. And Marybeth. No one. No one is left. I know Dutch is dead... John told me about that. He killed em, Bill and Javier. I don’t know where Charles is... I don’t... I...” You felt a hot wave of pain and tears wash over you. You started to sob, feeling utterly and truly alone, “What do I do, Arthur? I can’t keep fighting this fight. I don’t want to die, but don’t want to alone anymore,” You wheezed pretty bad, trying to catch your breath between sobs, “I miss you. What should I do? I... I don’t know what to do without you. I’ve spent all these years living alone, get old and dying. Please tell me I get to see you again,”

It felt like someone was cutting out your heart and throwing it into the dirt. The pain was heavy, it weighed you down, creating a void that couldn’t be filled. You came here with this bad, a little tent and some food, but you came here to say goodbye. To die. Every since Arthur died, all you wanted was to have him back. But no one can change the nature of death, and no one knew Arthur or who he was anymore. You couldn’t stand the idea of being buried in a mass grave or even buried away from Arthur. You were dying, and you had die here.

As morbid as it was, this was your final wish. You had such a ahrd time breath, suffocating on your own tears. You took your wedding band off your finger and pressed it into the dirt beside Arthur’s wedding band. You took of the locket and hung it off his cross, watching it sway back and forth.

This was it, wasn’t it? The end of the road. You hoped that this wouldn’t hurt. You hoped this was the answer you were looking for. Part of you knew that it wasn’t, and most of you knew you were doing this because you just couldn’t keep going. You wanted to die on your own terms, not at the hands of fate or disease.

You laid down beside his grave, staring at the darkness of the approching night sky. A few stars had made there way out. You held tightly to the gun you got your backpack, thinking over and over again if this was right. It didn’t feel right, but your soul craved release. This was awful. Life was awful and unfair.

You closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, begging, hoping, praying that you’d see Arthur again. So that who every finds you burries you beside your long dead husband. You were scared, crying, and unsure, but you came so far and you weren’t healthy enough to take the trip back. You’d rather chose this than starver to death up here, or let this cruel disease steal your last breath.

You closed your eyes, and pulled the trigger.

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