#i'll never stop these kind of breakdowns over them i fear | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

in-superbloom · 3 years ago

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did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

#anna writes #perhaps she does write after all #alright i'm gonna go hide somewhere now bye #ashton irwin fanfiction #ashton irwin fic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin x oc #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin imagine #5 seconds of summer #5sos imagine #anna writes: rwylm

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i-cant-sing · 3 years ago

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Hey, hypothetically asking: Is there a way for me to stop feeling emotions? I mean... having them is kinda hurting me at times. I usually have trouble expressing myself but then I stumbled across your blog and I decided to give it a shot. I'm really sorry if I'm bothering you with this, I just need to vent feelings to someone. My school's adding so much of stress in my life for me, I keep having test after test and I guess I'm scared that I'll be a failure if I fail. And on top of that, I barely get 4 hours of sleep everyday because of all the extensive notes I always keep writing and we keep getting various projects. Oh, and I guess you could say that I'm also kind of a loner? I also don't know why it's so hard for me to love someone either platonically or romantically. I guess it's because I'll never be good enough and I might be scared of attachment. I might have philophobia the fear of love but at the same time, I'm also scared of being alone. Wow, isn't that ironic? Sometimes I feel like the pain in my chest is getting too heavy, I feel like giving up... but then the only things that's keeping me sane are the fics that I write everyday. And another ironic thing: I keep giving people advice on things like not giving up on life and having faith that things will get better but I'm not so great at following my own advice. Then again, no one ever is

Sorry I dumped my feelings on you, I know some people might think I'm being over dramatic and making a big mountain out of a mole hill or I could be an attention seeker. But after writing this, I kinda feel half better and once again, damn... this thing was really long

This feels like my past self sent this to me lol. Anyways, anon I'm not really great at giving advice, and I'm not really good at expressing emotions either, and I'm 20 and in college, so I haven't got my shit figured out yet.

Look I know how stressful school and exams can become, and believe me, the older you grow, you're gonna have other kinds of stressful problems. But... I suppose the way I've dealt with pretty much any difficult situation, especially during exam season, is to talk to myself. And it honestly helps me figure out a lot of things in life, and also helps give myself reality checks and realise when I'm in the wrong. It's also very entertaining too. So, be your own therapist, your own motivator.

You know, I once failed a really big, important test- actually 3 exams. But even at that time, while I was sitting in the dark, listening to Renegade by Styx, I told myself: "This too shall pass." That no matter how bad things seem, bad situations don't last forever.

Now, worrying and stressing over your studies/school won't do anything. Whenever I feel like I'm about to breakdown, I clap my hands and then focus on palms, take deep breaths and tell myself "I got this." But as students we are bound to be burnout, so I recommend listening to music in the dark, taking a walk, or even reading some short story or something. We all need a little escape from reality, that's why fiction is my favourite genre.

I highly recommend that you take some days off from school or at least a break from studying, because in the longterm you'll study more this way. You may think that you would fall behind like this, say maybe by 20%? But you'd still be 80% prepared, and that's way better than not taking a break and falling behind by 30%.

You sound like a teen and let me tell you girl, you can literally do nothing to stop yourself from embarrassing yourself. Nothing. I cringe everytime I go to my Facebook and see the kind of teen I used to be🤮🤮🤮 I'm not like that anymore 😭 But important thing to remember is that everyone else is also constantly worried about embarrassing themselves, so they probably don't even remember what stupid thing you did.

Man just chill out a bit, like physically tell yourself to chill out when things start piling up. Like take a nap, listen to music, read some fics then get back to studying. Worry about relationships later, you got your whole life for that. Don't worry about what others are thinking, just focus on yourself.

U said u write fics? Anon, send the link🔪

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nikethestatue · 3 years ago

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Out of curiosity, you think Elriel has more development than Nessian? In ACOMAF, I could only really see hints for Nessian and Moriel (before SJM retconned Mor obviously.)

I'll preface this by saying that I've never been a Moriel fan and never saw anything between them. Truthfully, I think that the initial breakdown was Cassian and Mor, Elain and Az and Nesta and Lucien. Then SJM retconned on all of them, except for Elriel.

The problem with Nessian is that I am not sure what development there's been? And I LOVE Nessian, but I think they've been written poorly. SJMs obsession with the mate bond is really problematic when it comes to Nessian, because what actually binds them? I STILL DONT KNOW. Do they have common interests? Do they laugh and joke? Do they do things together? Show me something outside of training and fighting that they do. Do they like the theater? Carnival rides? Pottery? Long walks? Teaching children? Knitting? I know literally nothing about them.

I know SJM tried to show that it was some kind of love at first sight situation--which it could've been--but the unfortunate forgone conclusion of the bond marred the whole relationship. In ACOWAR, when Nesta and Cassian decided to die together--that's a powerful, tragic, beautiful moment, but why was it there? What was motivating Nesta? Because outside of the bond, it doesn't seem like she'd be that sacrificing, for him. Conversely, the Elain rescue scene reads truer, because we assume there is no bond, so Azriel's emotions seem more genuine. And in essence, it's kind of a very similar scene between Nessian and between Elriel, yet regardless of how you feel about Elriel, or Azriel, it's very powerful. He goes to the most dangerous place on earth, he even gives up a siphon, he's been warned that he will die--yet, nothing stops him.

Same with some other things--how Cassian at times treated Nesta, and how she treated him. Certain things he'd say to her. Even when Amren was taunting him over his relationship, why not stand up and say 'be quiet'. It's none of your business.' It's Azriel who steps and tells Amren to be quiet. Yet Azriel has no problem stopping everyone from eating before Elain takes her seat. Show me Cassian's growth, where he stands up to Rhys and not in the usual 'fuck off' kind of a way, but in more meaningful way. When Rhys freaked out and said he is going to kill Nesta, Cassian doesn't stand up for her. He leaves with her and ges on that long hike. However you feel about the hike--and I liked the hike--and maybe Nesta needed it, but I simply did not feel any development from him in regards to her.

And then the cherry on top is him yelling ' We are mates!' And that's the crux of the matter--they are mates. And what's real? And what's just a booty call? And what's instinct? And what are feelings?

I wish I saw Nesta get a gift for Cassian for the last Solstice. I really, really do. Because at least it would've given us an insight into what she actually thinks about him? What does she know about him? What would she have gotten him if she could? It would've shown us that she thought of him, that he meant something to her that was just them. We didn't get that. And honestly, to this day, I still dont know what Nesta feels about him exactly...Love? Pride? Affection? Is she awed by his personality? Does she want to hold his head on her lap? Does she want to draw him a bath when he returns from a long flight? Would they make soup together? French toast?

That's why in my mind, even though Elriel have significantly fewer scenes, and just as those two characters their scenes are quieter and more intimate, they do grow--Elain goes from a person who is frightened of the Fae and being engaged to a Fae hater, to saving one and wanting him, and Arzril, who supposedly was obsessing over the same woman for 500 years, moves on, finds someone else that gives him natural affection, fun gifts, who makes him laugh and desire, and who doesn't fear him at all.

I blame SJM for shitty writing. For not giving us even one intimate Nessian scene. Honestly, some of my favorites were tiny scenes, like when they were waiting for Gwyn to join them for the first time, and they are telling each other how the other make them nervous. That was cute. Or when they were taking about their allergies.

Honestly, it's like this--until you are singing Tina Turner's 'Simply the Best' to you partner are you even in love? And I can see Elriel and Feysand sing it to each other. Nessian, I don't know.

#anti acosf #nesta and cassian #elriel

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sophosthewisebunny · 10 months ago

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Oops I made a song breakdown for the songs I have on here so far (under the cut because it's LONG)

Umine-core Playlist Breakdown: (Format – Song by Singer – “Selected Relevant Lyrics”)

Welcome to Lady Hell by Dirt Poor Robins – “For as sad as it seems/Somehow she's still holding on/To all of her dreams/Even though we know/She'll never break from this spell/she can't let go in lady hell (lady hell)”

Rule #1 – Magic by Fish in a Birdcage – “There is magic in this room/I don't know if you can see it/There is magic in this room/I don't know if you can feel it/It's called love/Some call it love/Love”

Змія (Snake) by Vivienne Mort – (translation of lyrics mine, original is in Ukrainian) “Вище./Там, де кров запеклася,/Там лишилася рана,/А я не п’яна./І погано нам обом./Підійди до мене ближче./Підійми мене вище,/А тоді знищ і отруї мене./Помстися, ну! Не ведися!” (“Higher/where blood boils/the wound remains/oh, I’m not drunk/and it’s horrible for us both/Come closer to me/Raise me higher/then wreck and poison me/Take revenge! Don’t let yourself be led”)

Я і так одна (I’m all alone anyway) by Vivienne Mort – (translation of lyrics mine, original is in Ukrainian) “Хто з вас не хотів би любити?/Підніміть руку, опустіть очі./Хто з вас не засинав одиноко,/Не вмирав у пустелі без неї?/Хто з вас життя не хвалив?/Не тому, що красиве,/А тому, що любити хотів?” (“Who among us has never wanted to love?/Raise your hand, lower your eyes/Who among us has not fallen asleep lonely/Has not died in a desert without her?/Who among us has not praised life/not because it is beautiful/but because he wanted to love?”)

The War by molly ofgeography – “There have been some bad things when love was careless/Oh I'm an heiress to goodbye/And I, I know it's nothing I can repair, it's/Just I'm not leaving you this time”

Welly Boots by The Amazing Devil – “And when you scream "I'm not alright"/And throw my picture at the wall/"You were supposed to be my light/And keep me safe against them all/How could you leave me here?" you'll scream/And louder, I'll scream back to you from that unknown/And say/"I know you're strong enough/I know you're strong enough/I know you're strong enough to do this on your own"”

Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil – “Because farewell wanderlust, you've been, oh, so kind/You brought me to this party, but you left me here behind/So long to the person you begged me to be/She's down, she's dead/Instead what is left but this old satin dress/And the mess that you left”

Child in a Seacave by Bitter Ruin – “You should have saved me/You should have saved me/Left like a lightbulb/Off, no switch, in a dark room/You should have saved me/You should have saved me/A child in a sea cave/Watching a tidal wave”

Labour by Paris Paloma – “All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid/Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant/Just an appendage, live to attend him/So that he never lifts a finger/24-7, baby machine/So he can live out his picket fence dreams/It's not an act of love if you make her/You make me do too much labour”

Sick Cycle Carousel by Lifehouse – “'Cause I tried to climb your steps, I tried to chase you down/I tried to see how low I could get it down to the ground, and/I tried to earn my way, I tried to tame this mind/You better believe that I have tried to beat this/So, when will this end? It goes on and on/Over and over and over again/Keeps spinning around, I know that it won't stop/'Til I step down from this for good”

Tam Lin (Child 39) by Anais Mitchell – ““Then take me back into your arms/If you my love would win/And hold me tight and fear me not/I’ll be a gentleman/But first I’ll change all in your arms/Into a wild wolf/But hold me tight and fear me not/I am your own true love/And then I’ll change all in your arms/Into a wild bear/But hold me tight and fear me not/I am your husband dear/And then I’ll change all in your arms/Into a lion bold/But hold me tight and fear me not/And you will love your child””

Apres Moi by Regina Spektor – “Be afraid of the lame, they'll inherit your legs/Be afraid of the old, they'll inherit your souls/Be afraid of the cold, they'll inherit your blood/Après moi, le déluge/After me comes the flood”

Money by Maria Mena – “The cause of aging's undecided/But she must be stored away/Our family’s always been divided/Why cooperate today?/Oh you smell money, money/She reeks of money”

Power Trip Ballad by Maria Mena – “Momma loves you/I'm just tired of you and your brother's shit/And I didn't mean to hit you/But you were asking for it/Hahaha/Ask me why she scares me/Do you wanna know why I'm angry?/Can't you tell I'm crying?/Mother I don't feel good”

Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives – “Are we allies or enemies?/This will be the death of me/This will be the death of me/All is fair in love, and war/But I can't fight with you anymore/This will be the death of me”

August by Vanisa Khamkhosy – “The ghosts of August nights/Lie deep within your tangled whisky lies/On the other side, the grass is darker/It doesn't get much water besides the tears from my own eyes/Mary, if you ever hear my warning, he isn't all that good/The boy who only loves in August”

Ти забув про мене (You forgot about me) by Vivienne Mort – (translation of lyrics mine, original is in Ukrainian) “Ти забув про мене,/Як забувають зимою осінь,/Як забувають про перші сльози/За рік, за два…” (“you forgot about me/like you forget the fall in winter/like you forget your first tears/within a year, or two”)

Голубка (Dove) by Vivienne Mort – (translation of lyrics mine, original is in Ukrainian) “Bonsoir , я твоя самота./Ну хочеш, я тебе обійму./З ким було так хороше там,/З тим ти тут попала в біду. /Хай тобі зі мною ніяк, та я єдина бережу твої сни./А може, а раптом не так, і світ не злий, і світ не злий!” (“Bonsoir, I’m your loneliness/Well, do you want a hug?/The one you were so happy with there/Here you find yourself in danger/Maybe you don’t like me much, but I alone protect your dreams/But maybe it’ll change, and the world isn’t cruel, and the world isn’t cruel”)

Oops I started an Umineko playlist

#Umineko #lyta liveblogs umineko

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elizabeethan · 3 years ago

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Watch the Sunlight Fade: 8 / 17

Emma Swan finds out that her boyfriend has been hiding something from her: he’s in a gang and trying to get out. Reluctantly, she decides to support him, sticking it out with him until they have enough money to flee to Florida. All she has to do is wait and ignore that feeling in her gut that something is seriously wrong. With the help of a kind and handsome stranger, she just might make it out alive.

Or, alternate summary: I’m horrible at summaries, please just read it.

Something of a cross between a What Still Remains AU and a Sons of Anarchy AU.

A/N: Things might be starting to come together this week! Let me know your predictions.

This chapter talks extremely briefly and ambiguously of Emma not exactly wanting to have sex with Neal. Also, there is a discussion of Killian’s semi-violent past. Nothing is detailed, but let me know if you need more information or anything!!

Rated M

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~~~~

The days turn into weeks, although Emma can’t help but feel as though time is dragging her along mercilessly. Nothing has changed since she found out about Neal, how he’s the brother of the leader of The Lost Boys. Nothing, aside from her feelings of safety and security, of confidence in her relationship, being completely shattered.

Every night, she fights off the desperation to walk across the hall and join Killian in his bed, letting his strong arms consume her and blanket her with a sense of ease and contentment. Every night, she fights with herself as she crawls into bed with Neal, a man she thought she loved, and forces herself to put on an act of affection towards him. She forces herself to lie back and accept his convoluted attempts at showing her that he loves her, knowing that he couldn’t possibly. If he loved her, he would never have lied to her. If he loves her, he would let her go.

She also fights with herself through the anger she feels, directed inward rather than at anyone else. Sure, she’s mad at Neal for what he’s done, what he’s putting her through, but at the end of the day, she’s the fool to let herself be put in this position. It’s her fault. She should have seen through his lies from the moment she met him, but she was too desperate for love and family and acceptance. He knew that, too, and he exploited her weaknesses like she meant nothing to him.

It drives her mad to not know what he’s after. She’s hardly the most skilled person at finding people who don’t want to be found, so why he feels the need to target her specifically, she can’t say. It could be argued that, in some perplexing, psychotic way, he thinks he loves her, but she knows now that this isn’t love. It can’t be.

Lying at his side, wide awake through her inability to sleep, she can’t seem to shut her mind off. Each time she closes her eyes, she feels terror at the memories burned behind her lids. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Neal on top of her, despite her resolve to squeeze her eyes shut each time he decides he wants to be with her. Usually, she’s able to go to another place, letting thoughts of the beach or her happy future serve as a distraction of her fear, but sometimes she can’t ignore the feeling of his rough fingertips burning her skin.

Sometimes, when she’s in Neal’s arms and struggling to get past the feelings that come along with being with him, she thinks of Killian. Not necessarily in a way of longing for him-- not because she wishes she was with him instead, although she can only assume it would be more pleasurable-- but because of the comfort that he always brings her. Being with him is like being embraced by warmth and safety itself. It’s like the rest of the world turns off, and all that’s on her mind is the soothing way his arms wrap around her and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. She doesn’t have to worry when she’s with him. She only has to think about how good it feels to be in his arms.

And she’s noticed his physique, too. It would be difficult not to. She noticed that first night, when he lifted his sweatshirt off and pulled his t-shirt up with it. She noticed the other day when he visited her in her cave of an office, leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, muscles bulging out of his sleeves and a tempting smirk coloring his lips as he teased her over the dinosaur of a computer she was working on. She notices the way he looks with almost everything he does, and she knows it's a dangerous game that she’s playing.

It’s not like she never found Neal attractive. But knowing what she knows now, she can’t help but to feel slightly nauseated every time she sees his face. She’s got to get out of this.

~~~~

“Since you did such a good job with the last one, I have another little task for you,” Peter says, his voice teasing and his smirk unsettling.

Emma works hard to maintain her composure as she sits straight up in her seat, one she was finally awarded after weeks of standing awkwardly before the group sat at the table. Today, when she walked into the daunting conference room, Peter invited her to sit beside him, beside Neal, and has been leaning towards her in a way that she knows is meant to appear polite, but holds a threatening undertone.

“Okay,” she agrees, trying to make her voice sound confident and fighting off the fear that never seems to go away.

He turns from her to Neal and remarks, “she really has begun to come into her own, hasn’t she?”

“I guess,” he shrugs, and a part of her feels offended at his nonchalance. Despite her strong desire to be anywhere but here, she thinks she’s done a pretty nice job of trying to fit in. Ever since Gold spilled the beans a few weeks ago about Neal’s status in the club, she’s held it together fairly well on the outside, with the exception of her initial breakdown.

There’s only one person she truly feels comfortable breaking down in front of. Only one person who she really trusts.

She hasn’t told Neal that she's found out his true identity. She and Killian have talked about it at length, sometimes able to spend time alone together especially when Neal leaves, and they’ve agreed that it’s for the best to keep her discovery under wraps. Gold’s subtle drop that Neal is his son and brother to Peter was purposeful, and she can’t let him come out on top. She knows, she’s terrified, but she’ll maintain her composure. For whatever reason, Neal doesn’t want her to know, so she’ll keep playing dumb.

“Who do you want me to find?” she asks, wanting nothing more than to prevent Neal from saying anything else casually offensive. His small digs at her serve a purpose, she now knows; to bring her down as far and as quietly as he can.

“This one may be a bit more of a challenge; a member from a rival gang. While Graham was more of a nomad, this man has ties to the Kings of Elsinore and is better protected. I want you to find out everything you can on him.”

“Okay,” she nods assuredly. “Well, I'll take whatever you have on him and get to work, then.”

Before she can move from her seat, Peter’s hand is on her wrist, oppressively holding her still. “Not so fast. There’s someone I’d like you to officially meet. Call in Hook.”

A man Neal knows, Walsh, she thinks, stands from his chair and walks towards the door, summoning someone inside. She has to stop her jaw from hitting the floor when she sees who.

“You two seem to have met casually, but I’d like you to officially meet Killian Jones. He’s gotten himself into a touch of trouble and, as punishment, will be helping you with whatever you need until this man is located.”

She gulps, anxiety setting in again despite how hard she’s been trying to keep it at bay. She promised herself she would be strong, refusing to let them get to her, to let them see her squirm. She will keep her promise to herself. “Okay,” she murmurs, forcing herself to peel her gaze from Killian’s. She can’t help but wonder what he’s done to get into trouble with Peter. She selfishly hopes they weren’t caught without her knowledge.

~~~~

“What happened?” she begs desperately once the door to her small office is shut, Killian ushering her into the room before practically slamming it. “What are you in trouble for? Killian, please tell me they don’t--”

“Nothing like that,” he hisses, stepping towards her. With a soft, gentle voice only just above a whisper, he says, “love, you have to stay calm. You did phenomenally pretending we don’t know each other well, but we have to keep up the ruse.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I know, I just… what happened?”

“Nothing, love, I promise. I only refused to go on a trip with them last week and Peter feared I wasn’t dedicated to the club’s cause.”

“You did?” she asks in surprise. When Neal told her that he wasn’t dedicated, she forced herself to believe him. When Killian says it, she doesn't even consider doubting him.

“Aye. Told them I had pressing matters to attend to.”

She cocks her head suspiciously and asks, “what were the pressing matters?”

“The Mummy Returns was on TV, remember? We watched it together.”

She can’t help the smile that breaks across her face, a snort escaping her throat despite her best efforts as she shakes her head and feels a blush creeping up her neck and pinkening her cheeks. “You’re dumb,” she says, and she feels like a child in a playground with a school crush.

“Well,” he shrugs, giving her a beaming smile. “Here, love. I’ve got the information we have so far. Time to start digging.”

A part of her almost wants to take her time, content to sit in the small office with Killian sitting beside her for quite some time. No one would suspect a thing, what with Peter already telling her that this guy would be harder to find; it’s the perfect excuse to soak in all of the comfort and happiness that Killian brings her despite her circumstances. But she knows they have to keep up appearances so as to avoid being caught in their elicit friendship, so she’ll work at a normal pace and hope no one notices that her smile is genuine rather than the forced one she gives Neal.

James Spencer is certainly a hard man to find. If she didn’t already know that he was linked to the Kings of Elsinore, she would be lost, as the man seems entirely enigmatic in nature. He seems like a ghost, her research pointing her absolutely nowhere, but Peter insists that he’s got ties to this rival club, despite her finding no evidence to support his claim.

She groans after a few hours, dropping her head to the desk as Killian continues to bounce a tennis ball off the wall in his boredom. It certainly is a punishment for him; the fact that he has to sit here and watch her find nothing is likely eating him alive. “It’s only been a few hours, love, you’ll find something soon,” he tries to console. Her frustration wins out, though.

“This is stupid.”

“Aye.”

“Are all of these stupid gangs this hard to navigate around?”

“Aye, I'd assume so. Although, I've never been a bounty hunter.”

She rolls her eyes, picking her head up and glaring. “I wasn’t a bounty hunter. I was a bail bondsperson.”

“That’s different?”

She holds her hands out, requesting the ball from him and catching it when he tosses it, only to throw it back at him with too much aggression. He yelps and laughs at her too loudly, and she can’t help but smile in response. She settles back into her chair after the short reprieve and sighs.

“How can I find someone who doesn’t want to be found if I know absolutely nothing about the environment he lives in?”

He hums in agreement, nodding and remarking, “you need an inside man.”

“No, I just need to know how a fucking motorcycle gang works,” she grumbles. It’s been a confusing few weeks, and she realizes that, while she’s gotten a few small bits of information, she still has no idea what the club’s actual purpose is. “Like… why even bother having one?”

He gives her a soft smile, standing from his chair and dragging it closer to her. “Are you sure that’s what this is about?”

“What?” she asks indignantly, giving him a look that she seriously hopes conveys how annoyed she is.

“Your little tantrum, love,” he teases. “Is it really about not knowing enough about how gangs work? Or is it, perhaps, more about your need to know everything about a situation in order to convince yourself that you’re safe?”

With another glare shot his way, she drops her jaw in surprise and shakes her head. “What the hell do you know?”

He smirks. “I know a lot more than you think. You’re a bit of an open book, love. And I’ve known you long enough now.”

“To what, psychoanalyze me?”

“I may have considered studying psychology, had I gone to university,” he laughs. “I know you’re scared, and I'm beginning to realize that not knowing what’s going to happen, or what’s happening without you knowing, is probably feeding that fear.”

With another heaving sigh, she drops her head back down, resting it on her arms and nodding. “You’re right,” she concedes, although part of her wishes he wasn’t. It’s true, though, being so in the dark about everything is making her feel weak.

His hand lands on her shoulder, staying there for a moment before he gently and slowly scratches his fingertips against her skin and pulls away. “I can tell you what I know, if that’ll help.”

She perks up, lifting her head and recalling a conversation from weeks ago in which he told her that his brother was an influential member of the club. “Yes,” she says, and why she didn’t think to ask earlier, she doesn’t know.

He gives her a nod and another one of his encouraging smiles, the one that always makes her heart skip a beat, and clears his throat. “What I know is that Neal is older, but Peter is in charge. From what I gather, and I was never privy to much, Neal went off on his own for a while and Peter took over everything. Gold’s always seemed a bit more… hesitant around Peter, but I almost suspect that he favors Neal. Either way, Peter was running things behind the scenes for quite some time before Neal left. When he came back, it was with you on his arm and with Peter happily leading, refusing to give up his spot. No one argued with him.”

She nods, but it doesn’t tell her much. She’s always known that Neal is more of a follower, happy to do whatever he can to impress his friends. The fact that he willingly gave up what seems to be his birthright doesn’t really surprise her.

“So what are they doing when they go away on their trips?”

“Usually seeking out merchandise. They deal in stolen goods, mostly watches and the like. Typically, a trip is a heist of some kind. A jewelry store, antique shop… sometimes even banks with safe deposit boxes.”

Emma looks down to her own wrist, Killian’s gaze following closely behind, and notes the watch she wears. The one that Neal gave her after one of his trips. She shudders and moves to take it off.

His hand stops her, looking into her eyes deeply and shaking his head. “Keep it,” he murmurs. “We can’t let them know that you know any of this.”

“Why?” she asks in a whisper. “Why is it so bad if I know?”

“I don’t know,” he shakes his head again. “But if Neal hasn’t told you, there’s a reason for it.”

She nods in understanding, letting her heart rate slow as his hand remains on her wrist, moving down to the top of her hand. She wants to wrap her fingers around his, but she knows she shouldn’t. “Can I ask something about you?”

“Of course.”

“Why do they call you Hook?”

His eyes drop from hers, glancing down at their joined hands, and she watches his brows knit together tightly. She feels his grip on her hand tighten, and despite both of them knowing it’s a bad idea, his fingers weave with hers and he squeezes her hand. She squeezes back.

“There are things about my past that… that when I think about telling you, I become…” he sighs, unable to finish his thought.

“Killian,” she whispers, “I already know you’re in a gang. Can it really be that bad?”

“Aye,” he answers immediately, his eyes meeting her own in a desperate attempt to convey to her something she can’t quite read. “I’m not… a good man.”

“Of course you are.”

“No. Maybe I’ve never thrown knives at a woman I’m supposed to love, but I’ve certainly… I mean…”

“Killian.” Her grip on his hand, the one she should release, tightens. “Whatever happened… you’re not that person. You’re good. I know bad people and I pegged you as good the second I saw you.”

It’s as if he can’t meet her gaze, too ashamed of whatever it is that he’s done. Too fearful of what will happen if she finds out. He witnessed her finding out that Neal has been lying to her, and she wonders if he fears a similar response now.

“I don’t-- it’s silly,” he laughs. “I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You can’t,” she whispers. After everything he’s done for her, everything he plans to do for her, he could never disappoint her.

He sighs, squeezing her hand once more before turning it over in his and drawing a line across her palm. “I was a-- an angry lad growing up. My father abandoned us, my mother died. I found myself seeking release. Ways to get my anger out. I was never taught anything productive.”

She stays quiet, letting him open up to her on his own terms and distract himself by tracing the lines in her palms. “I came here at fifteen. Gold recruited me for… well, to put my anger to good use, in his eyes. He used me-- he’s always been good at picking out someone’s weakness and exploiting it. Whenever he needed information out of someone, he would bring me along and I would…” he sighs again, taking a deep and grounding breath. “I had a favorite weapon,” he mumbles.

With a nod, she tries to stay calm, tries not to let fear overtake her. She was fearful of Neal when he held the knives and smirked at her, and of Peter when he pressed the tip of the blade to his finger and smiled. But when she presses her hand to Killian’s cheek and makes him look up at her, she feels no fear. She sees only truth and regret and a longing to be a different person.

“It was a hook?” she asks for clarification, but she can see the answer in his eyes.

“From Gold’s boat,” he croaks. “That’s usually where we would take… the people we were interrogating. But, Emma, it’s been years. Liam found out and put an end to it. I think that’s--”

“What?” she asks gently as he cuts himself off, shaking his head painfully.

“I think that’s when things started going poorly for him.”

He’s done so much for her. He’s soothed every ounce of pain she’s felt since she got here, since Neal sliced her cheek and he touched it tenderly. He held her together as she cried harder than she ever had before. He’s vowed to see her out of this danger despite the predicament it puts him in. And still, she feels powerless to help him. He’s sitting before her, broken and in anguish, and she can’t heal him like he has her.

All she can do is take his cheeks in her hands and promise him, “that was not your fault.”

“Emma,” he breathes, his eyes pleading with her, for what, she isn’t sure. “He… he kept insisting I stay out of it. He kept holding me back, refusing to let me go, putting up a fight… I think they got tired of it, eventually. Of someone constantly questioning them and going against their word. He’d still be here if I hadn’t--”

“No. You had no hand in what happened to Liam. And when this is all over, you’re gonna be able to leave too.”

It’s bold of her to assume that it’s something he wants. He’s told her plenty of times that he wants to help her escape, but he’s never mentioned a desire to leave himself. It’s bold of her to assume that that’s in his best interest. But when she looks at the sadness and regret in his eyes, a part of her knows that it must be.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs after a moment of silence, and she lets him cast his gaze downwards again. “I should have--”

“It’s okay, Killian. The things you’ve done in the past don’t reflect who you are now.”

“Of course they do,” he nearly spits, clearly angry with himself as he pulls away and throws his head back. “I was a monster then. How can you not think of me as a monster now? I’m no better than Neal or Peter.”

“Don’t say that. Peter would probably do something like that now if he wanted to. Would you?” She lets her voice rise just the slightest amount, feeling more intensity than before and finding it necessary to convey to him that she doesn’t see him as a monster.

“Of course not.”

“And Neal… don’t even get me started. He nearly pulled his gun on me last week because I asked him where he was going. Would you do that?”

“Emma,” he says softly, finally looking at her once more, and she knows what he’s thinking. She knows he wants her out of his apartment; out of his life.

“You’re not a bad person,” she whispers, leaning closer to him just as he sits forward again, and they’re so close that she can feel his breath warming her nose. “I know bad people. You don’t qualify.”

He nods, his eyes deep and soulful as they bore into hers, and says, “I want to be a good person for you.”

No one has ever spoken to her like this. No one has ever expressed such a definitive desire to be worthy of her. No one has ever been so close to her and not made her instinctively want to pull away. And when she sees his eyes fluttering shut, his lashes touching his cheeks and casting long shadows in the dingy light, she wants to lean closer.

She almost does, too, is tempted to close her eyes like he has and touch her lips to his, but there's a swift knock on the door and they spring apart so quickly that she kicks his shin, causing him to bend and silently groan. She cringes in apology as she jiggles the mouse to her computer, begging it to wake up before the knocker enters the room.

“Any luck?” Gold asks as he pokes his head in.

“None so far,” Killian answers easily, his persona shifting effortlessly and maintaining their cover. “Swan’s searching high and low, but we don’t know much about Spencer’s tactics yet.”

“And Hook’s been a help to you, Miss Swan?”

“Yes,” she smiles, fighting the urge to lunge out of her chair and wring his neck for the name he’s given Killian and his insistence to still use it despite his obvious discomfort.

“It’s clear already that you have the club’s future in mind; I'm sure you’ll find something soon enough.”

She nods, staring as he walks away and cocking her head in confusion. “So weird,” she says softly once he’s gone, trying to remain quiet as he’d left the door ajar.

“What?”

“That’s the second time he’s mentioned the club’s future, specifically. What does me finding this James Spencer have to do with the future of the club?”

His response is a shake of his head, a slight roll to his eyes before he stills suddenly. His eyes widen as he looks down, then his brows knit together in thought, and she can clearly see the cogs turning in his mind. It’s like she’s watching him have an epiphany in real time. He looks up at her once, urgently, then he snaps out of it as if he’s remembering where he is, his demeanor shifting entirely as he smiles. “I’m not sure. The old man never makes any sense.”

“Killian…?”

“I’m sure it’s nothing, love. We’ll just keep working on finding Spencer, alright? There’s no need to worry.”

For a brief second, she feels distrustful of him. It’s reminiscent of when Neal tells her not to worry about things that she couldn’t possibly understand. It’s like he knows something, but he doesn’t think she's capable of handling the truth of whatever it is. For a brief, fleeting second, she doubts him.

But she can’t let herself think like that. Neal lies to her to protect himself. Killian has been nothing but honest with her, wanting nothing but her safety. Truthfully, if whatever he’s discovered is bad enough that he doesn’t want to tell her about it, she isn’t sure she wants to know.

~~~~

Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @hookedmom @pirateprincessofpizza

#Watch the Sunlight Fade #Captain swan fanfic #cs ff #sunlight ff #captain swan angst #captain swan fluff #emotional hurt/comfort #tw

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msmarvelouswinchester · 4 years ago

Text

Stranger

Betrayal

Summary - Dean Winchester rescues you from the Djinn. Some hard truths are learnt when you wake up and find him arguing with his brother.

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings - Fluff-ish, Angst, too much angst, Swearing, Verbal Altercation.

Word Count - 2.1k+

Square filled - Domestic!AU ( @spndeanbingo )

A/N - Thanks to @miss-nerd95 for giving this a once over because I was nervous that it got too dramatic (damn you Bollywood)

This is also a submission for @winchesterxfamilybusiness' Make Me Swoon Challenge. Prompt is in bold.

Series Masterlist

“Are you sure this will work?” Dean hesitated.

“Well, we gotta try and we have to hurry. Clock’s ticking,” Sam said, as Dean swallowed the herb.

Five hours. That's how long you were unconscious. Dean had carried you back to your room, placing you gingerly on the bed. His heart clenched at the sight. You were home, but this was not how Dean wanted things to go. He had pushed you away in hopes you will be safe from the supernatural but the universe had other plans.

Dean wouldn't admit, but he was terrified at the thoughts of invading your dreams. ‘What was your happily ever after?’ That question was haunting him. The Djinn always lets you see your heart's desire and Dean was scared to find out the answer to that, but he had to take the step because this was the only way you could be saved.

Sam had agreed to take the African dream root, but the older Winchester had stepped in, saying, “She's in that state because of me. Let me take those.”

The herbs worked their magic and soon he found himself in your dream.

“Happy birthday, baby,” your husband wrapped his arms around you, “I have plans for tonight.”

“What about the kids?”

“I have asked your Mom. She will take them for one night. The kids are excited to spend time with their Mee-maw and Paw-paw,” Dean said.

“Hm, I see you have planned everything,” You smirked.

“Uh-huh. Down to every last detail. Even the things I will do to you in bed tonight,” Dean’s eyes darkened at the thought, “I bet you never got such a gift. You won't be able to walk properly for weeks.”

“I may or may not have a return gift planned for you too,” you winked, “something I bought from the Victoria Secret.”

“Fuck me,” Dean breathed out.

“Gladly,” you said, “but you gotta wait till tonight.” You gently patted his chest and walked over to the kids’ room to get them ready for the evening, unbeknownst to the fact that the real world Dean Winchester was watching the whole interaction with wide eyes, heart breaking into a million pieces.

“Y/N,” you saw your husband jogging up to you, with horror in his eyes.

“What? Baby, you okay?” You asked, your movements coming to a halt. Dean's breath hitched as he heard you call him ‘baby’. “Okay honey, you're scaring me. What's wrong?”

“This-this is not real Y/N,” Dean said.

“What?” You chuckled.

“This is all a dream. You need to snap out of it,” Dean insisted.

“What is this? Some kind of stupid prank?” You crossed your arms, “I gotta go check on the kids honey.”

“Kids?” He frowned.

“Yeah right, Mister. What, next you're gonna ask me if we are married or not?” You said, clearly getting annoyed.

“Marr-wha-no….Y/N, y-you don't understand. This is a dream. Y/N/N, you are dreaming! You don't have any….kids.”

“Dean Winchester, don't you dare say that,” you crossed your arm and gave him a once over.

“Sweetheart, you gotta believe me! I know this all seems a bit strange but your husb-that Dean i-is not real. He is just a figment of your imagination. I-I'm real,” he pleaded.

“Did you hit your head somewhere, honey?” You were now genuinely concerned about him.

He shook his head and grabbed your hands, dragging you back to the kitchen. You cocked your head in confusion as you kept looking at Dean rummaging through the closet.

“Dean! If you dare to mess up my kitchen, I'm gonna kill you,” you warned. He looked at you and grabbed a knife and made his way towards you. “Dean? Babe, what is it?” You asked with the frown on your face deepening at his actions.

“See, I-I can show you this is not real,” he said and stabbed himself in the chest

“Stop it Dean!” You gasped in horror, “Wha-”

“I'm not dead! I am not even bleeding. Look at this,” Dean exclaimed. You looked down to see the knife sticking out of his chest but he was alive and there was no blood.

“What? I-I don't understand. This is not-all this while I-I've been dreamin’. But it all felt so real. How can this be….De, what's happening?” You were on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Sweetheart, listen to me carefully. You are in a Djinn-poison induced dream state. They mess with your head. I know; I've been there.”

“Djinn?”

“I'll explain everything but first you need to wake up, Y/N/N,” Dean begged.

“How?” You cried out.

“You need to kill yourself,” he said.

“What?”

“Yes. If you kill yourself in your dreams, you will wake up. Now come on,” he said and handed you the knife.

“You sure?”

“Do you trust me?,” he asked you.

You were frightened and confused but you believed Dean. Nodding your head at him, you took the knife and looked at Dean one more time.

“It's gonna be fine. Trust me, sweetheart.”

Your heart was beating loudly against your chest as you tightened the hold on the knife. You sucked in a breath as you stabbed yourself in the stomach.

Gasping loudly, you sat up straight in the bed.

“Y/N,” your eyes met with Dean’s worried green ones.

“Dean?” You asked, your head filled with various questions. Dean pulled you into a tight hug.

“I-I thought I lost you sweetheart,” he croaked, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

“It's okay. I'm here,” you looked around, “where am I?”

“In the bunker,” another tall man came into the room and said.

“Who-who are you?” You asked, as Dean let you go, “I-I'm so confused. What happened? Dean, how did you-I was….was I married?”

“Y/N you….uh-you were attacked by a Djinn. They are supernatural beings and we hunt them,” Dean said, “you were in a dream state and you dreamt of things like….m-marriage and uh-kids. Djinns usually show you your heart's desire.”

“Are you kidding me? You hunt them? You hunt monsters? What next, are you gonna tell me that Drac is real? And he runs a hotel for freaks in Transylvania?”

“I know it's a lot to take in but it's true, not the Dracula part but me and my brother, Sam, we hunt them. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, everything is real,” Dean said.

“Sam?” You looked at the other man in the room who was staring at you silently.

“Hey,” the man who was standing patiently at the foot of the bed, cracked a smile at you.

“What is this place?” You asked.

“This is the bunker. Our home, workplace, everything,” Sam said, “You also-”

“You should take some rest now,” Dean interrupted his brother, getting a side glance from him.

“S-sure but why didn't you tell me about this the night we met?”

“Our job is not a conventional one. We can't go around, telling everyone that monsters exist,” Sam said, “It's better if people don't know about things like this.”

“Okay,” you looked around the room again, fear seeping into you which faded quickly as Dean placed his warm hand on yours, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.

“You're safe here, sweetheart,” Dean gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“I never thought I would meet you again.” Your heart fluttering in your chest at his touch.

“Neither did I.”

“Thanks for saving me. Thanks to both of you,” you said, and the brothers smiled at you before stepping out of the room to give you some privacy.

Even though you were living in a dream for the past few hours, you were exhausted so sleep came easy to you.

You didn't know how long you were asleep before you were woken up by some muffled screams coming from outside the room.

Your ears perked up when you heard Dean's voice.

“No I can't!” He yelled.

“You have to tell her, Dean!” The other voice, probably Sam’s yelled back. You winced as you got up from the bed and went out of the room, the voices getting louder and clearer. Your whole body screamed in protest with every step you took.

“I-I can't,” Dean let out a defeated sigh.

‘What are they arguing about?’ You wondered as you finally made your way towards the brothers. The halls of the bunker felt oddly familiar to you.

“Do you think she is safe like this? She is a huntress Dean!” Sam exclaimed, “This-this is her home. She doesn't even remember the bunker! She doesn't remember me!”

“What am I supposed to say?” Dean asked.

“The truth!”

“She won't believe me and telling her the truth means sucking her back to this goddamn stupid life!” Dean shouted at his brother, “And I won't let that happen.”

‘Were they talking about you?’ You wondered and moved closer to the brothers.

“How can you be so selfish, Dean? You are only thinking about yourself! You are not the person I looked up to as my brother!” Sam shoved his brother hard.

“Well people change with time,” Dean said in a bitter tone, “and how is it selfish? I won't let her die because of me.”

“They do, but their feelings remain the same amd you're scared. You still love Y/N and it would be stupid if you let her walk away!” Sam scoffed. Your eyes widened at Sam's words.

“You don't understand,” Dean gritted out.

“At least she will understand!”

“No she won't! She was married in her dream - she had kids; that's her happily ever after! Not with me-”

“She was married to you, Dean!” Sam retorted, “that's her happily ever after - with you. With us, in this bunker. She is family and we don't give up on family then how could you push her away? Don't do anything that you will regret later on. This is probably your last chance to fix the mess.”

“I-I can't. She is gonna hate me. It's better this way. It's not like she remembers being married to me,” Dean mumbled.

You gasped in shock grabbing the attention of the brothers.

“Married?”

“Y/N?” Dean asked.

“I thought I was only married in my dreams but I-we were married?” You asked him.

“I-uh….Y/N you should go re-”

“Don't tell me to go and rest!” You exclaimed. Dean glared at his brother, taking a deep breath.

“Stop running away from the problem for once,” Sam muttered in a low voice but loud enough for his brother to hear him.

“Y/N, you are….we are married,” Dean said, squeezing his eyes shut.

“But I don't remember it. Dean? Sam?” You gulped.

“How can you do this, Dean Winchester?” You asked, your blood boiling in anger.

“I did it to protect you,” Dean calmly stated.

“Great fucking job with that because last time I checked I was almost monster food!” You shouted.

“You don't understand!” Dean retorted.

“Then make me, asshole!”

“You got almost killed, because of me! I almost killed you!” He yelled.

“Shut up! Just fucking shut up!” You said, as you sat down in the chair, trying to wrap your mind around the new facts you just learnt. You were married to Dean Winchester. You were a huntress. Then what about your friends, your job, your life in Idaho? What was true? You didn't know what to believe.

“Y/N, sweetheart, say something. Please.” Dean begged.

“I'm not your sweetheart, Dean. You lost the right to call me yours the moment you took a life-changing decision for me and pushed me away,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“I-I….I did it to protect you. You mean everything to me,” Dean said.

“Then why did you push me away? Why did you erase my memories? We could have dealt with this together. Why, Dean, why? I can't even hunt anymore! I don't even remember the basic ways to protect myself. You made me helpless. Tell me Dean, how did you protect me?” You asked. Dean kept quiet.

“Y/N, maybe we can fix it. Maybe Cas can fix it,” Sam said, who all the while stood in the war room as a silent observer.

You scoffed, “I don't-I don't even remember Cas. Great job, Dean! Great fucking job! You think you are so great, trying to protect me, but all you are a selfish asshole. You destroyed my life, Dean. Destroyed it! Congratulations, Winchester!”

“I thought-”

“From next time, don't think because your thoughts always destroy something good just like it destroyed us!” You were angry and sad. You couldn't believe Dean could do such a thing.

“I loved you, Y/N, I still do and I-”

“Well newsflash Dean, I don't love you anymore,” you scoffed, “Because in case you didn't know, I don't even remember us - what we used to be.” Turning on your heels, you went back to your room, leaving behind a heartbroken Dean Winchester.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in this!

Feedback is highly appreciated!

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britishsass · 3 years ago

Note

//rubs hands together// 40 questions time! How bouuut... Q1, Q3, Q13, aaand Q38?

Oooh, heck yeah, let's go!! Long post incoming!

Q1: Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... My usual default when I don't know what to write is what I like to call a "fear chamber" fic. The whole point of these is to see exactly what a character's worst fear is, then deconstruct it-- How they would act, how they would break out, how the other people around them respond. This is where ideas like "Circle the Drain" come from-- I have an innate need to write that for my faves.

My other usual type of fic that I default to is either a nice "It seems really sweet and cute but wait! It's actually tragic, whoops!" or "Two characters who don't interact.... I think they should interact now. :3" though I will admit I have a fondness for writing meet-cutes with my rarepair.

Q3: Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole?

There's a list of it. Here are a few for ya, including one extremely unpopular opinion.

A/B/O

Smut of any kind

Pregnancy

...Most of Enemies to Lovers, actually. (I'm more of a "Friends to Lovers" or "Friends/Lovers to Enemies who can't hurt the other directly but will do anything to take them down for the good of others" sort of person.)

Even though there's a lot of ideas I don't like, I'll still admit they can be written pretty well in the right hands. Those ones are the ones I can say that I don't actually like ever (I've not had an enemies-to-lovers ship though so...)

Q13: What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

The one piece that's stuck with me all of my life is the post I've seen about "writing a sunset." This is where I get some of my major angst prowess from. I'd like to quote from there:

"Don’t take away what someone loves. Take away their hope of seeing it again."

However, it doesn't end there. And this is the real part that sticks with me.

"Taking away an ability doesn’t stop someone. It merely gives them a reason to try something else. And though it might seem bleak and hopeless, there’s always a chance. And that chance is sometimes the saddest and most joyful part of all."

Writing a sunset is the idea of writing the most horrible thing happening to a character, such as Otto's massive breakdown that's occurring throughout Mentallis's Museum Mayhem... But then you bring back that reminder that there is a way through. There are people who care, there are things he can do, and it's not all hopeless. That's why Otto's Ordeal is there. It's showing that even at the darkest points, we can work through it together, and I really do care about that. It's things like writing a character who loves to sing becoming mute, so they learn to dance or play an instrument instead. It's good stuff.

Q38: Talk about a review that made your day.

Ooh boy. You know what time it is? It's time to talk about Ghostfish.

Ghostfish is a commenter who's only just showed up on my fics with MMM and Otto's Ordeal. The thing is, I don't know anything about this person other than that they choose to go by Ghostfish, and they're basically a god among men to me. They randomly showed up on my stories...

And they post a freaking essay. For every single chapter I write for Otto's Ordeal. They point out the lines they like, bring up foreshadowing, point out symbolism, come up with ideas for what things could mean. It feels glorious to see them every time they appear because Ghostfish reminds me that people care. They care so, so much that someone wanted to write an essay about a little fanfic.

Over four comments on my fics, Ghostfish has written a combined total of 4595 words, and they have inspired me to write so much more on that story just because of them. I could never leave comments like that-- I'm anxious, I'm really bad at picking up on symbolism and on foreshadowing (I literally get surprised by things in kids movies still. The only foreshadowing I got right was that I knew the plot twist of Detective Pikachu while I was playing the game so I went into the movie like "I better be right about that gosh darn it" so when the reveal happened I was so hyper about getting it right because I'd not done that before.) This one commenter is the most incredible one I could ever ask for because their analysis is so thorough that it makes me feel like I need to do my best to make it worth their time.

Every comment is fantastic, but Ghostfish has my heart and soul for these long ones.

#ask game response #lunar-insanity #ask response #goodness these are fun to talk about heh--#i just. i care ghostfish.

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artificialqueens · 3 years ago

Text

Gimme Love, 2/9 (Miz Cracker/Blair St Clair) - Grinder

AN: Heyo, yall! Just hope yall are enjoying this fic so far. I worked really hard on it, but so proud. So many times I just wanted to quit it. But I stuck it out!

Major TW for this chapter: Child abuse mentions // mental breakdown // Anxiety // Dementia mentions

2020

I flinched, feeling a hand lightly slap my foot twice. "Wake up, Princess."

I rolled over slightly, blinking as if to clear my vision. Jujubee looked as if she had been awake for hours, looking fresh as fuck in her dressing gown. She must have had a shower hours before because, despite the dry hair, I could smell the mango and papaya soap. Fuck, it smelt so good.

Then there was me; hair wrecked, makeup long expired, body smelling of that typical hangover smell. Like a hospital, except unclean.

I whined like a child, rolled back over on my stomach and buried my face hoping it would stop my head from pounding.

"Nope. Not happened." Jujubee sat down on the bed and shook me.

"What time is it?" I asked with my face still smushed into the pillow.

"It's 2PM." She answered.

That's what got me up. I threw the covers back and went to stand. "Fuck!"

Jujubee grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "Relax. It's our day off, remember?"

I whined even more, curling up with my head in her lap.

"Not that it makes a difference considering you're always late anyway," Jujubee added as she stroked my unbrushed hair.

"Shut up. I'm the boss. I can do what I want." I mumbled.

"Ah, Brianna Caldwell, you never change." Jujubee quipped. "Only follows the rules whenever it suits her, bosses everyone around - -"

"I do not, you whore. And can you please not speak to me so loud right now?" I pulled myself up and tousled my hair. "I need some shades or something."

I always needed shades when I was hungover, so Jujubee was already prepared. She pulled them from her pocket and handed them over. "Shade up, baby girl."

Life was already so much better with them on.

"But back to the topic at hand, though. Don't you remember the chess boys from high school?" Jujubee spoke a bit quieter now. "You literally bossed them around."

"They let me boss them around 'cause they wanted to sleep with me, Jujubee," I replied, reaching for my phone.

"And, you bossed me around too." Jujubee raised her brows.

"Mmmm, I don't remember that." I hummed, feeling pretty much over the conversation.

It took Jujubee an hour to convince me to get out of bed and clean myself up. After finally getting showered and dressed, we were out of the apartment and already heading to Starbucks.

I could have made my own coffee, but that required effort. And that I wasn't willing to give that day.

We were sitting at a booth in the back, with minimal effort in trying to go incognito. But this was a regular hang out for us. There was no need to worry about our names being shouted out. The baristas eventually learned to just bring our orders to us. It made Jujubee feel bad, but I didn't mind.

The barista, Kyle, came over and put our drinks down on the table.

"I deserve this. I really, really deserve this." I said, already taking a sip of my coffee.

"Congrats on last night. The boss said if you both need a refill, just let me know." Kyle winked. God bless Kyle. "So, When's the launch day?"

"Kyle, as charming as you are, you'll just have to wait like everybody else." I tried my best to beam a smile.

"Alright. Enjoy, ladies." And Kyle walked away.

Jujubee let her eyes follow for a moment longer. I know she was literally staring at nothing in particular, but I decided to have a bit of fun. "Go ask him out, Juju."

"Girl, you ask him out," Jujubee smirked. "I'm happy enough being a crazy cat lady. I don't need no man."

I knew it was a joke. Jujubee wasn't the type to encourage me to find someone. It was like she knew how it could bother me.

Despite liking the single life, I kind of did like the sound of being with someone. Maybe it was the fear of the past that stopped me from pursuing a relationship. I had a few girlfriends in the past. But they hadn't lasted long. I was afraid they would have somehow found out about my past self. Because, once upon a time, nobody would've even dared think of me as an attractive, promiscuous, alluring, single female.

But now that I had the glow-up of the century, dyed my hair blonde, I had quite a lot of admirers. It only really started to occur when NASA began sponsoring the project, bringing more traction.

My phone started ringing, but I paid no heed.

Jujubee, however, almost dropped her drink.

"Girl, why is Ed Sheeran calling you?" Jujubee raised a brow.

And as soon as the name met my ears, I was reminded of the night before. "Oh, God." I held my head in my hands.

"What did you do?" Jujubee was already groaning.

"I fucked up," I answered.

"You didn't have a quicky with him or something, right?" Jujubee questioned further.

I lifted my head, looking at her with squinted eyes. "What? No. Ew. Juju." I sipped my coffee before bearing the news. "OK, so...I don't know why I did it, maybe 'cause I'm a mess when I'm drunk, but I…" I lowered my tone, "kinda offered him the chance to be the first person to go into the other world."

"What?? I thought we were gonna do that!" Jujubee was freaking out.

"I know. I fucked up."

"Well, call him back."

"And, tell him what? 'Sorry, Ed. Jk'?"

Jujubee's forehead was in her hands, "I was really excited." She whined.

As I said before, this meant a lot to us. We hadn't discussed it with the team yet, but Jujubee and I had privately planned that we'd be first to enter the other world. So you could understand this was incredibly disappointing for her.

"OK. How about this? Ed will go in for 5 minutes. After that, we bring him back to Earth. And then we fly off by ourselves?" I suggested.

"I was looking forward to the pink sky. And the flying horses. And the…"

Jujubee went on a ramble as my phone began to ring again. I picked it up, letting it ring for a few seconds before declining Ed Sheeran's call.

I checked if there were any texts from him. Nada. But there was one message that caught my attention. The memory of reading it the previous night came flooding back.

Jujubee was still rambling, but I put my phone down and leaned across the table slightly. "Juju, do you remember Blair St Clair?"

Jujubee's expression changed instantaneously. "Girl, of course, I do. You were in love with her for years."

"Oh my God, can you whisper, please?" I questioned, the desperation in my voice very much apparent.

"Brianna, she's back in Ohio. We're in New York. I don't think anyone's gonna go and tell."

"You never know," I briefly looked behind me for fear that somehow the world decided to shit on my luck and make her appear in the booth behind me.

"Girl, chill out. And yes, I do remember her." Jujubee replied, "you know something that always stuck with me? Please don't ask why, but I'll never forget the day you told me you were in love with her. You came out to me that day too."

-_-_-_-

1995

"Juju, I gotta tell you something," I said, throwing my doll to the side of the fort. If I didn't tell her the truth now, I never would.

"What is it?" Jujubee sounded scared.

I crossed my legs in a pretzel shape, straightened my back and declared, "Juju, I like girls. And Blair St Clair is the girl I'm in love with."

I was expecting amazement, awe, shock. But Jujubee just seemed confused.

"What? How is that possible?" She asked.

"You promise you can keep a secret?" I offered my pinky.

Jujubee joined hers with mine. "Of course I can."

"OK." Our fingers remained twisted around each other. "Well, I saw two ladies in the mall kissing. And my Mommy told me girls can like girls. And I had an a-piffa-tree. The reason I like Blair so much is because I'm in love with her!"

"Brie-Brie, you need to slow down." Jujubee put her hand up. "If girls can like girls, then how come we never see girls kissing girls? It's always boys and girls."

"I don't know."

"Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Nope."

"Then, how are you sure?"

"I don't know. You ever get that weird feeling inside that tells you that you're right? I can feel it. I know I'm not lying."

"Wooow." Jujubee looked away briefly. "Does that mean you like me?"

"I don't know. You're my friend, Juju." I shrugged. "I mean, maybe we should kiss just to figure it out."

Juju looked like she was contemplating this for a moment before nodding her head and sitting up. "OK!"

I didn't even hesitate. Instead, I moved closer and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Ew!" We both pulled away.

We both agreed to never do that again, nor ever speak of it.

As if nothing had happened, we continued on playing with our dolls for another hour before the rain came out.

I walked Jujubee home, feeling very much like 'the big girl' being all responsible.

And in walking back to my own place, wrapping my arms around myself, I saw Blair - walking alone, drenched from head to toe.

"Blair!" I ran towards her.

She turned to look at me, her face scrunched up, trying to see through the downpour.

Call it instinct, but I knew something was up, just from how she was looking at me. I put my hands on her shoulders. "What's wrong?? Are you OK?"

"I'm lost. I-I'm trying to find my way home." She said quietly.

"What. How did you - -" I stopped myself from talking any further. Instead, I took Blair by the hand and pulled her towards the bus shelter off to the side of the road.

We both sat down when we got inside. She was shaking, close to catching a cold in the awful weather. Not to mention she had no jacket on. So I pulled my arm out of its sleeve and draped half of the coat over her.

"What happened to your coat?" I asked

"I didn't bring it." She replied.

"Why not? It's cold. You're going to get sick."

"I'm sorry. I just...ran."

I was silent for a moment. Then, "What do you mean?"

She was also silent for a moment, her blue eyes drifting to the ground. "Brianna...is it normal for Daddies to shout real loud all the time? Do they smash things a lot?"

No. It was not expected. I may not have had a Father figure in my life, but I knew well enough. "Blair, what happened?"

Blair clenched her fist around the jacket. "My Daddy...he…"

Despite her timid voice trailing off, I understood. She didn't even need to say it. "Do you have somewhere to go?"

She lifted her eyes to me, "I need to get home. I just ran as fast as I could. And somehow ended up here. I don't know my way back."

"I don't think you should go back," I admitted.

"I have to. Or he'll be even more mad."

I was wracking my brain. There was no way I could let her go back. "OK. Is there somewhere you can stay for a while? Somewhere close?"

"No." Blair shook her head. "Wait. Yeah. My Granny lives somewhere around here." She looked at me with optimism in her eyes.

"That's great! I know this place like the back of my hand. I bet I can find it in a few seconds."

After sitting for 10 more minutes, the rain was starting to settle, so Blair gave me the address, and off we went. I carried her bag for her. She was probably exhausted from all the walking.

All the while, I just listened as she talked about many things - Madonna, her Princess Belle doll, how Jade from school actually picked her nose when no one was looking. So many different topics. And I didn't speak a word. I guess I was just so...astonished. Here I was, walking along in a light rainstorm, hanging out with the prettiest girl in my class. How was this possible? Was this real life?

"You've been really quiet." Blair pointed out.

"Yeah, I just can't believe you're talking to me. What the fuck?" Yes, I said that.

Blair laughed at my potty mouth. "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "Well, I don't know. Maybe 'cause no one likes me."

Blair stopped in her tracks for a moment. "I like you."

I stopped, spun around, and looked at her with wide eyes. There was no way I heard her say those words. No fucking way.

"Come on. I know where we are now. Granny's house is around the corner." Blair began to move again.

But the butterflies in my stomach were going wild. I felt warm and wanted to just hug her. But I also didn't want to alarm her. Baby steps, Brianna.

I walked Blair to the house. Her Granny came to the door and was obviously quite confused. And Blair began to cry again.

I wanted to turn and run, feeling very out of place. But Blair grabbed me before I could leave and pulled me into a hug. She pressed her tear-stained face against my shoulder and whispered, "Thank you, Brie."

"I gotta go."

I pulled out of the hug and ran as fast I could. I don't know if I left her standing there confused or if she just knew by then it was just a me thing to be awkward.

But my mind was racing; Blair liked me. I knew not in the same way as I liked her. But, surely, that meant we could be friends.

Oh, how naive I was.

A few weeks later, it was the beginning of Summer. Mom took me to the park, and there was Blair with her friends.

I ran across the grass to the picnic blanket they were all sitting at.

"Blair!" I called excitedly. I practically threw myself down next to her, giving her a tight hug.

"Ew." Jade laughed.

"Shut up, Jade." Blair snapped.

"Are you friends with the freak now or something?" Carmen questioned, inching away from me.

"I'm not a freak!" I shouted.

"Uh, yeah, you are," Serena added. "We don't want freaks in our friend group. Go on. Get lost."

"Girls - -" Blair tried.

"You wanna join her?" Jade pointed her gaze at Blair, her face scrunched up in disgust.

I was waiting for it; The big 'fuck you' as Blair stood up, took my hand and walked away.

But she remained seated. Her eyes trailed down to the ground. I tried shaking her shoulder.

"Blair?" I spoke quietly.

She didn't say a word. It was as if she had turned to stone.

My body felt cold.

"See? She doesn't like ugly people like you. No one does." Jade smirked.

I remember the moment being more intense than it actually was. Because in a matter of seconds, the girls were screaming as I began to punch Jade in her bitchy face. I couldn't punch for shit. But if it left a bruise, I was happy.

"Brianna!" I heard my Mom's voice. Her dark arms wrapped around me, pulling me away from the now crying Jade. "We are going home right now." Mom threatened. But I didn't care.

From being dragged away from the fight scene all the way until we got home, I screamed.

Mom screamed back for a while when we were in the car. But you can't fight fire with fire. So she stopped when we pulled up.

I got in, I beat the fuck out of every object that came into my line of vision. And my shouting never stopped.

"No one wants you, ugly freak!" I smashed a vase. "Worthless piece of trash!"

Mom had been chasing me all over the house, trying to calm me down. But this wasn't like any tantrum I had ever had, and as Mom had no idea what was actually going on, she had no idea what to do.

She eventually scooped me up in her arms and held me tight as she sat on the ground. I screamed as I tried to fight off her grasp, downing out all her hushed whispers. "I got you, Baby. I got you. Mommy's here."

My screams did go on for another while, but as soon as they ended, all I could say to Mom was, "I should give up. Blair will never be my friend. I'm too ugly."

Mom stood me up, so she knew I was looking directly into her eyes. She pointed a finger in my face and spoke with a cracked but stern tone. "Don't say that. Never ever say that. You are so beautiful, and no one has the right to tell you that you're not. I want you to go look in the mirror, really, really look at yourself, Brianna. And I want you to see how pretty you are. Look at your hair, your brown eyes, your freckles. You are just as pretty as everyone else, girl. You are not ugly."

I squeezed my fists, feeling the hard lump in my throat. "Then why did my Mommy and Daddy give me away?"

Mom was stunned for a moment. She took my hand. "Baby, that had nothing to do with how you look. They…" she paused, trying to find the right words to use, "they just…" another pause, "look, I'll tell you when you're older. But I promise you are not ugly."

I couldn't hold on anymore. I let out a pained cry and immediately threw myself into her arms and buried my face in her shoulder.

-_-_-_-

2020

That was my first major emotional breakdown, marking the beginning of many more to come. But, unfortunately, Mom didn't want to immediately get me help. She had a feeling it would upset me further. And she was right.

Just as I had begun middle school, I had another huge episode. That was it. There had been too many episodes throughout those years.

You can try covering a crack in the wall with a pretty picture, but the problem would never go away, would it?

I couldn't stand therapy. Why was I the one to work on my emotions when I only felt the way I did because kids were assholes? Where were all the breathing exercises and meditation sessions to make them not be dicks?

But as much as I hated it, the older I got, I opened my eyes. What I hated the most was seeing the pain I was putting Mom through. So I really tried hard not to freak out.

I didn't want to upset Mom anymore. She really did her best. And to this day, I wouldn't change her for the world.

"We're here."

I was brought out of my thoughts as the cab pulled over. I had been so gone, just sitting in the backseat, staring at the magenta glass vase in my hands.

"Keep the change," I replied, handing the driver the money and thanking him as I got out.

He took my suitcase from the trunk and left it by my side. And with a goodbye, he drove off.

Standing at the bottom of the lawn, I looked at the house. Fuck, once upon a time, I wouldn't have been so in love with its appearance. I had no idea what my Mom was going for with the multiple colours. The outside was painted pastel yellow with a sky blue door and pink frame. Then there were the various flowerpots stuck onto the wall next to the door. All different colours; pink, green, orange or blue.

OK, I lied; as a kid, I fucking loved our house. Everyone else's was boring. But when high school rolled around, people would whisper how I was "the weird hippie chick from the rainbow crack house". So, you can understand why it quickly became an eyesore for me.

I knocked on the front door, feeling the excitement bubble within me. I had been so busy with the project, it was a few months since I last saw her in person. I glanced at the vase in my hand, the perfect Birthday gift. It was perfect because I got her a new one every year. Because I never got over the guilt from smashing her favourite vase as a child. This act was to make a point - to show that no matter how much I apologised, I was always sorry, and would always be.

I knocked again. There was only a barking behind the door. Good to know someone was in.

I still had my own key. No point in standing outside all day. I made my own way in, knowing I could just surprise her later.

"Hi, baby!" I spoke in a hushed tone as Piggie started to jump around excitedly. Fuck, I missed him so much.

I closed the door and knelt down next to the pug, bringing him into a hug and kissing him on the head. "You good boy," I said in between kisses, "Let's get you some food."

Standing back up, I made my way to the kitchen, and Piggie was only happy to follow. I still remembered where his food was kept, so I poured him a bowl. Then, while he was distracted, I took my suitcase up the stairs and into my old bedroom.

Fuck, there was always something so surreal about walking into it. I hadn't lived at home since before I went to college. From that moment on, Jujubee and I always had our own places. And now, I had my apartment in New York.

Meaning, the last time I had redecorated was years before my glow up (in personality and looks). The walls were pink, I remember them being a pretty pastel tone, but they looked duller now. Above my bed, the wall was littered with posters, writing and photos. I made eye contact with Reese Witherspoon on the Legally Blonde poster, remembering how I always wanted to be like her. Funny how I kind of did achieve that.

I realised I was just standing in the doorway, just staring. So, I sat the suitcase against my desk and went to lie down. I smirked as I found all 5'5" of my whole being still fit into it.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture of myself to Jujubee, the caption reading 'Hey, babe, my parents are out?￰ 😉😉 come over?'.

While waiting for her reply, I changed my pencil skirt and blouse, choosing to wear leggings and a tank instead. Suddenly, I felt 10 years younger.

An hour passed, and Mom was still nowhere to be seen.

"Maybe she's at work. Does she have a job?" Jujubee asked me through the phone.

"I... don't know, Juju," I murmured, my attention not really on the question but on the contents of the fridge.

There was a punnet of strawberries. I helped myself to a few.

"When was the last time you spoke to her? Seriously, Brie, I'm getting so nervous." Jujubee sounded concerned. I knew her mind was thinking of the worst. And oddly enough, I found it to be entertaining.

"A few months back, actually," I smirked. "She's been real quiet, to be honest." Piggie was at my feet, looking for one of the juicy strawberries. I shook my head at him.

"Oh God, no. Did you check every room? Talk to the neighbours?"

"Oh, fuck! Juju. My God, there's a head in the fridge!" I feigned terror.

"Brianna!"

"Relax. I'm fucking with you. I spoke to her last night." I took one more strawberry. Biting into it, the juice dripped down my fingers and onto the ground. Piggie was beyond happy now, licking it up. I let him be and made my way out of the kitchen.

"That's not funny, Brianna. Don't joke about that. I thought she was missing or...worse."

"Fair enough. Sorry, girl. Anyway, how's work today?" I walked into the living room and sat on the couch.

"Good, good. Ed Sheeran's team finally got in touch," Jujubee said with a hint of disdain.

I held my forehead in one hand, wanting to punch myself for even speaking to him the week before.

I groaned, "See, this is why I should stop drinking."

"Well, to be fair, you don't drink as much as you did back in college. But when you do, you go hard."

Jujubee continued talking, lecturing me about my life choices when I moved my foot and felt it touch something under the couch. It startled me at first, but I pulled out the item.

A slipper. Grandpa's slipper. Sitting back on the couch again, letting my eyes just stare at it. "Hey, Juju. I'm gonna go."

There was a sigh on the other end. "Fine. Not like I was talking about anything important or whatever."

"Sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't worry. I still love you, whore." She said.

"Of course you do."

I made a nasty kissing sound through the phone. She was grossed out, of course, and hung up. I chuckled for a moment and put my phone away.

Piggie came into the room and jumped up on the sofa next to me. I began to pet him, my eyes now back on the shoe.

Grandpa wore his slippers more than he wore regular shoes. Every time he found out Mom had put them in the wash, he would be furious. I would always listen to him ranting and wonder why men were gross. But I'd also laugh at how he threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

There was one time, in particular. He had gotten mad for the same reason. He huffed and came into the living room, sitting down on the couch, in the very seat I currently was sitting. He was shaking his head, just looking at the TV.

I shuffled closer to him and offered a few potato chips. His frown was immediately reversed. His smile had never seemed brighter. He took a few chips and asked with a full mouth, "Hey, kiddo. Aren't you late for school?"

It was 2PM. On a Saturday.

My smile was beginning to fade, my eyes still focused on the slipper. I could feel it - a familiar twisting feeling from somewhere within my stomach, the oxygen in my lungs seeming to fail me, a tremble taking my hands over.

And then, Piggie licking my arm.

I flinched slightly as I was brought back to the present. I smiled, petting Piggie. "Where would I be without you, baby?"

Piggie didn't answer, of course. Instead, he just licked my hand, which was enough for me to chill out.

I put Grandpa's shoe back under the couch, now inspired to search more of the house. But before I got off the couch, I checked my phone. Jujubee had Snapchatted me.

Clicking into it, I froze for a moment. She was in her bathroom, the shower running behind her. I wanted to say she was the main element to the picture, cocking her head to the side, pouting her lips and raising a brow. Despite the fact Jujubee never sent me pictures like this, it wasn't the first time I had seen her in her lingerie, though. But, I couldn't help but glance at her black lacey bra. The breath was caught in my throat for a moment.

The text read, 'You OK, babe?'

Around middle school, Jujubee developed this 6th sense, knowing when something was up with me. It was impressive.

I lifted my phone up high, took a picture and made sure to get Piggie in the frame. He wasn't looking, however.

"Piggie." He was looking now. I smiled and took the picture. I captioned it, 'Just hanging out with this one'.

I hit send. And now filled with inspiration to go on a nostalgia trip, I got up from the sofa and went off to explore. I called Piggie to follow.

I found myself upstairs, standing in the doorway of Mom's room. It felt rude to intrude. After all, a bedroom wasn't just a bedroom. It was a sanctuary, a place to be yourself, to carry out your own private rituals free from judgement, a happy place. So it felt like an intrusion to invade her space.

But I spotted the perfume bottles on her dresser. There was one bottle, in particular, a fragrance she always bought. It was her favourite - a musky scent with a hint of amber vanilla.

I couldn't resist. I made my way to the dresser, lifted the bottle and smelt the underside of the lid. Immediately, I felt my body relax. It smelled just like her. And there was no smell sweeter than the smell of your own Mother. It felt safe, loving, warm. Now, I was even more excited to see her again.

That was as far as I'd go into her room. So I put the perfume back, ushered Piggie to get down from her bed and left.

I was back in my old bedroom. I wanted this nostalgia trip to be unlike any other. So I knew exactly where I'd find it. I looked in the drawers of my desk. And in the very bottom drawer, I found it; my old diary.

"This is going to be wild, Piggie. I just know it." I smirked, sitting down on my bed, my back against the headboard. Piggie curled up beside me. We were both sitting comfortably. So I began.

'Dear Dairy'

Already, I had to pause and laugh. 7 year old me would have been a legend in a spelling bee.

'Today, I had a fight with Jujubee. She really upset me, but I upset her too. I should say sorry. That's all. Bye.'

Short and sweet, child me didn't beat around the bush. She just gave you the information you needed. That was it.

I flicked a few pages forward.

'Dear Diary,

I had another fight with Jujubee. I really don't want to upset her. But sometimes I get so angry, I don't know what to do. I lost a tooth today too. So I am going to leave a note to the tooth fairy. I want her to take all my anger from me instead of my tooth. I hope it works.'

I remembered that. I had gotten mad because we were playing house. I wanted Jujubee to be both the parents, and I'd be the two kids. She didn't want to. She wanted to play the part of a child too. I freaked out, of course. I specifically remembered telling her she'd do it if she cared about me. She said she did care. But in the heat of the moment, I didn't believe her.

"God, I was such a brat," I spoke quietly.

I skipped some pages, unsure of what I was to find. And seeing one specific name, I stopped flicking through.

'Dear Blair,

You are like the sunshine. You are…'

I stopped reading, cringing at my child self. Was this before I realised it was a crush or not? What was hilarious about this entry was how damn long it was. All other accounts were short and straight to the point. But this? It went on for 3 pages. I bet my younger self felt mega proud about writing so much. But now, I felt the need to build a fucking time machine, go back to that moment and tell little Brianna, "Guess what? Nothing happens. Blair never becomes your friend. She never feels the same way about you the way you feel about her, so stop before you make it worse for yourself!"

I decided I was taking this diary back to New York. I needed to investigate it more. And there were probably some accounts that Jujubee would cackle laughing at.

My nostalgia trip wasn't at its peak just yet. I needed something that would just send me over the edge of happiness. And I knew I'd probably find that in my memory box. But there was a problem. I had given it to my Mom, asking her to hide it away somewhere. And whenever I wanted to put something into it, I'd give it to her, and she'd hide it for me.

And I made her promise to only give it back to me when I turned 50. No matter how much I cried and begged, she could not break that promise. Young me knew one day I'd be on a one way trip down memory lane.

I was so tempted to find the box. Surely, it couldn't have been too hard to find. But Piggie growled for a moment, his ears perking up. He looked at the window and started barking. I was now aware of the sound of a car's engine. A familiar one at that.

Finally, Mom was home.

I peaked out the window to see she was grabbing her bag from the car.

Piggie and I raced down the stairs, taking the vase from the living room and waiting excitedly at the door.

Funny how with excitement there came a level of anxiety, the tiniest hint of fear bubbling in your stomach. And I felt it all as soon as I heard the jiggling of the key.

The door opened slowly as if she already knew something was unusual about the place like she was bracing herself for whatever she was going to find.

She peeked around the door. My smile was beaming.

"Happy Birthday!" I shouted.

"Jesus Christ!" Mom flinched, almost falling back and stamping on the ground. Piggie was going wild now, barking from all the excitement. "Brianna, you could have given me a heart attack!" She shut the door and clasped a hand to her chest.

I laughed at her over-the-top reaction and held out the vase. "I got you another one."

Mom looked at me, still panting from her shock. She was silent for a moment, and in that silence, I realised how much I had missed her.

Mom stepped forward, took the vase and put it to the side. As she pulled me into a tight hug, I could see her face scrunching up.

There are two people of people; those who can't stand seeing their Moms cry. And fucking liars.

Of course, I belonged to the first group. As you know, I…

Well, you already know. Here, let me put in a fun diagram of things I didn't want to deal with at that moment.

"Don't ever scare me like that again, you bitch." Mom spoke softly in my ear as she cried.

"I couldn't help myself." I forced a smile.

As much as I hated seeing her cry, I knew she needed it. Me being the only child she ever had, it broke her heart when I moved out in the first place. I'd imagine it was tough now that she was alone.

Yeah, she had Piggie. But it obviously wasn't enough. So I let her cry it out as she hugged me. I could smell the perfume, and again, I felt that safety, the security a Mother's love brings.

When she pulled away, she immediately moved to the kitchen, already brewing some tea. I let her know that I didn't mind if she had to go upstairs and change or anything. But she insisted we get into the catch-up.

"I invited some people from work to come over later. You remember the flower shop beside the old church?" Mom rambled, her shaking hands pouring the tea into two mugs.

"Of course I do," I answered, sitting at the table, with Piggie in my lap.

"Yeah, I work there now." Mom replied.

I felt bad. This shouldn't have been news. It was my part to already know that.

Mom sat at the table, placing the mugs down too. Piggie's attention was drawn to them, licking his lips with thirst.

"So I hope you're not jet-lagged, girl." The excitement was practically radiating from her face.

I was a bit exhausted, but she deserved to have a great night. "I'm good. Don't worry."

"Oh, and your aunt is coming." She added, sipping her tea.

"Aunt Monét! Yes, bitch."

It had been a very, very long time since I last saw Monét. She knew how to turn a party. And she was always so glamorous. I remember numerous times as a child asking her to teach me her ways, be my mentor, so I could grow up to look as good as she did.

"So, it's gonna be a long night. Be prepared." Mom said.

"So, it's a party?"

"Not my plan, but knowing Monét, that's how it will turn out. Anyway, I saw pictures from the event last week. You looked great up on that stage, baby. Keep doing me proud."

I gave her a gracious smile as I sipped my tea. A small drop fell onto my lap. Piggie was searching for it, but it had already soaked in. Sorry, Piggie.

"Yeah, I kinda fucked up, though," I said, playing with one of the dog's ears.

"'Fuck’ always has been your favourite word," Mom shook her head, "Go ahead. Tell me, what did you do?"

"So at the after-party, I kinda offered Ed Sheeran to be the first person to go through. Please don't ask me why. The answer is; I was drunk. I don't have a more logical explanation for you right now."

Mom was silent for a moment, her eyes narrowing. "Ed Sheeran? Why him?"

"I told you, I have no idea." I sipped my tea. "I'm just a fucking idiot when I'm drunk."

"So, what now? Is he actually going to do it?"

"Yep. His team got in contact. Everything is set in stone." I was ashamed of the whole Ed Sheeran thing, but now telling this to my Mother, it felt all the more embarrassing.

"Oh, God. This is going in history books, girl." Mom held her forehead in her hand.

"I know," I reciprocated. "Even worse, now they're asking the big questions like 'is the atmosphere safe on the other side?' We're still in the middle of working all that out."

"OK, asides from the Ed Sheeran fuck up," Mom put her hand on mine, "I am extremely proud of how far you've come since you were just a kid."

Uh oh. This wasn't what I wanted.

"And I know you're so busy with this whole thing, but sometimes, I just wish you'd call."

Fuck. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, no. I don't wanna make you feel bad, girl. Like I said, you're a busy lady." She held a hand up.

But still, I felt bad.

"Shit. I was supposed to pick up some lemonade on the way home." Mom stood up, taking her tea with her. She had barely touched it.

"I could go to the store if you want," I suggested, taking a big gulp of tea.

"I mean, if you wanna, go for it. Tina still works there. It would be nice to see her again." Mom continued. She reached in her pocket.

I kissed Piggie on the head before putting him on the ground. "It's OK. I got it." I stood up from the table.

We had a bit of back and forth about who paid. I left before she could even give me her spare change.

Before I walked out the door, Piggie looked sad to see me go. Of course, I was coming back, but he didn't know that. Therefore I felt guilty.

I put my sunglasses on as I walked out the door. It wasn't even sunny out, but I knew I'd probably get stopped by people I used to know to dive deep into conversations about how far I had come. I had things on my mind, so many thoughts circling in my head.

I knew I should have put more effort into staying in contact with Mom. But after years of putting her through hell, I felt a sense of guilt. There were a few times I'd message, and somehow the conversation would take a turn, and she'd bring up a childhood memory.

I was done with my past. I was once a troubled child who eventually grew up to have a better mindset. I didn't want to relay the breakdowns, all of the vases I had smashed.

Then I realised how much of a contradiction that all was as I realised it was all that was on my mind as I walked down the street. So I plugged in my earbuds and drowned out the thoughts with whatever Spotify had to offer.

#rpdr fanfiction #s10 #as5 #miz cracker #jujubee #blair st clair #bob the drag queen #blair x cracker #fluff #coming of age #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #grinder #concrit welcome #tw breakdown #tw child abuse mentions #tw dementia mentions

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liljungie · 5 years ago

Text

Pawn To Rescue | 1

Science Student Jungkook

Word count: 1.7k

*Italic is jungkook's thoughts*

Summery: Jungkook discovers a secret that the town's lab is hiding...or will he?

A/N: Idk I wasn't going to post this but I Highkey like it and I'm like eef it imma post it so tell me whatcha think of this...part 2 is almost done so I just want to see if yall like it or I'll scrap everything.

Masterlist

Jungkook throws his head back letting out a frustrated sigh. It's taking him a while to finish his assignment which was a rare occurrence. Since he's the top of his class. Straight A's. Perfect assignments. Never late. It frustrated him that human anatomy is taking effort of him to search and write about. Stepping away from his crammed desk he decides it's better that he takes a break or else he'll miss it up.

'It's a mess already' he thinks to himself as he takes a water bottle from his fridge making his way to the couch plopping down on it before turning on the TV. Breaking news was all over the channel. Jungkook with furrowed eyebrows changes the satiation only to find the one he changed to also has breaking news flash on the screen. He flipped through the stations only to be met with the same luck as the last. he leans back into the couch turning the volume up. 'Let's hear what's going on'

'Attention citizens...umbrella laboratory reported a breakdown early this morning causing patients to have ran away. Mark burnett the CEO of umbrella cooperation warns that if you encounter any patients that you turn them in without question. For your safety. That is all.'

Great. Just what this morning needed. Psychopaths running loose. Jungkook snorted. he glances outside to see people running inside. Hiding. He shakes his head before closing the curtains. His classmates sure are weird as hell. This is a college ground no one would break in. the building was gated all around it's impossible to walk through without ID.

They love to be dramatic. Without thinking much of it jungkook laid down on his double bed. Feeling restless. He drifted off to sleep.

A few hours passed and the sun had set. Jungkook was done with his assignment and now he was looking at the night sky. The stars were twinkling. It was so quiet that if a pin dropped you could hear it. A few minutes passed then he heard what sounded like twigs being broken in half. He didn't think much of it. Probably stray cats. But he heard it again so he stood up and looked outside then saw the Bush that is facing his window move again. His eyebrows furrow questionly. The wheels in his head were turning trying to make logic out of this. As the figure that was moving in the Bush size's is bigger than a cat but smaller than a bear...could it be a human?...no no..it can't be..

Until his eyes met the figure's eyes, it's eyes widen in fear and shock tgeir pupils dilated. then it moved further inside trying to hide itself from jungkook's eyes. His curiosity got the best of him he quickly jogged towards the nearest shoes he slid them on and opened the door and ran outside. Once he reached the Bush he stopped running and walked towards it slowly. The Bush branches moved suddenly which made jungkook's heart stop for a second. He glanced around but to his luck everyone was inside. No students were wandering around like the usual. Probably because of the news. He took a deep breath and approached the Bush again. his steps were hesitant but he needed to know what was hiding in the Bush.

He sqauted down glencing around again before he cleared his throat. He felt ridiculous but it wouldn't hurt to try. "You can come out...I won't hurt you" he softly spoke to the figure. their eyes stared at his. Then they looked at his hands. Jungkook raised them up quickly. Way to quickly which made the figure flinch and move further back inside. "Hey hey... look! I have nothing in my hands" he raise them up but moved them closer to the Bush so the figure can see them. "See..." he softly says the figure moved a little bit towards him but not enough. He still couldn't see them.

Anyone would be terrified if they were in jungkook's place but for some reason he didn't feel that way. The figure was far more afraid than he was. Obviously. They're hiding in a Bush if all places. Besides jungkook won a championship for being the fastest runner if anything he'd run away if the figure tried to lung themselves at him. "It's okay...I won't hurt you" he says again 'unless you try to hurt me' but the figure only stares at him. He sighs. This is so dreadful.

Was it even understanding him? By the looks of it..probably not. He knew he was being ridiculous but why not go all the way? he decides to ask a few questions to see if it understood him. "Blink if you can understand me.." the figure stared for what felt like a minute then it blinked. Jungkook let out a hearty laugh feeling relieved but soon that feeling went away. Humans need to blink! He felt so stupid. "That's not going to work..." he sighs. He needs more than a blink to know for sure if it understood him. Then his brain sparked with an idea. He smiles "Okay let's try again...shake the branches twice if you can understand me" the figure continues to stare at him but then the Bush started to shake twice.

At that he started laughing. Feeling like he accomplished something huge. "So you can understand me?" The bush shakes twice again and jungkook smiles with relief "I'm going to ask you a few questions if the answer is yes shake the Bush twice if no shake it once...got it?" The bush shakes twice. "are you afraid?" He asked. He wanted to facepalm himself of course they're scared. The Bush shakes twice once again. "I'm not going to hurt you..so..can you come out?" The Bush shaked once. His head fell with disappointment. He wanted to know what was hiding behind the Bush so bad. Or did he lose his mind and now he's imagining all of this? Frustrated he rubbed his face. "Aren't you hungry?" The bush shakes twice. The hope ignited within jungkook. "I have food...look...that window is my room" the figure's eyes moved to where jungkook pointed "...if you come out I'll give you lots of food wouldn't you like that?" It was silent for awhile. Seems like the figure was thinking it through. Jungkook stayed put afraid of scaring it away again. The Bush shakes twice again and jungkook smiles. "I'm gonna step away so you can come out yeah?" He stood up and took a few steps back before he crouched down again. Waiting."you can come out now...see I'm far away from you..I can't hurt you.." he reassures. He hears the figure let out a sigh before they started to crawl out of the Bush. Then Jungkook's eyes widen with shock.

The figure is a girl. She looks younger than him but only by a few years. She had a small cut under her left eye. It looked fresh so he figured it was from the Bush branches. Because the same cut was all over her arms and legs.What made jungkook's blood pressure go down was seeing the torn apart gown. It was the lab's gown and he knew that because Umbrella's logo was on the collar of it. She is one of the runaway patients.

Jungkook fell backwards at the realization. He was speechless he only stared at her as she sniffled and stared back at him. She sat on her knees not knowing what to do. She started to look around her and up at the dormitory building. She looked lost and so..out of place. Seems like she never saw anything because she had this look in her eyes. She was very amused by all of this.

"Holy shit" was the only words that came out of his lips. "You're umbrella's patient" her eyes snapped towards him when he mentioned the lab. she stepped back into the Bush. Not caring that the branches were cutting her skin again. jungkook moved towards her holding her by her arms to stop her from moving further. His fingers were digging in her skin "no no...don't be scared!" She tried to shake his hands off but he was much stronger. He pulled her back out. Panicking he said "we can't stay here we have to go inside...I'm not going to hurt you I promise!" He tells her. Praying to whoever was listening that she complies.

Jungkook hated doing this. But the only way she would comply is if he scares her into going inside. "If we stay here umbrella is going to catch you! or one of the students are going to turn you in...you have to come with me" jungkook tells the poor girl who only stared at him with a horrified expression. "You can't stay here the Bush makes too much noise you'll get caught...come with me it's safer inside" he tells her again. His heart was beating uncontrollably. What he was doing is extremely dangerous. But he wasn't going to let this opportunity pass him by.

What kind of understudy scientist would let this slip?! Jungkook needed this for his application. He can't get caught. If he kept her. to study her. and figured out why umbrella hid her and many others and demands for them back so desperately they must possess something strong. Where they have to keep them in a laboratory he could be one of Umbrellas scientists. Which was his dream. His life goal. And Umbrella would do anything to keep the information Jungkook is going to find out hidden.

The poor girl stands up hestaily. Jungkook smiles and takes off his jacket helping her put it on then zipping it up for her. She stares at him questionly. She is his golden ticket to work with umbrella the least he could do is give her some answers. "You can't be seen like this, you're wearing a hospital gown they'll take you away" he tells her she looks down at herself then looks up at him. He can see and sense the fear in her eyes. But he vowed not to give her up. Not yet. Not until he was done with her.

"You'll be okay" he tells her placing his arm around her guiding her towards his dorm room.

He crossed his fingers that no one catches him. And just hopes that hiding this stray human being in his dorm is worth it.

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radioromantic-moved · 3 years ago

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it's the final livebloooog (doo doo doo doo, doo doo doo doo doo) this baby's extra long, because the episode is twice the average length. also big time spoilers. you know.

-"no place in the universe can compare with our past. our burned, ashy past." a statement about david's place and also about the earth which i'm pretty sure died from global warming in the stellarverse. not scary at all.

-HARTRO'S‏‏‎ ‎BOYS....ONE MORE TIME FOR THE ROAD <33333

-"do you know what this means???" "that‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎‏‏‎has no taste." "that we're all getting slushies."

-hartro's‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎little excited snuffles that sound like she's about to have a breakdown but, like, the good kind are basically exactly how i feel right now too.

-"what have i always told you??" "shut up! shut up! shut up!"

-HEY THEY MENTIONED FRANKENSTEIN!!!

-long time viewers of the Blog may remember that one of cyril's special books is‏‏‎ ‎frankenstein.‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎knows what‏‏‎ ‎frankenstein's monster is (kind of). you know what that means. at least one cute little reading time.

-i was going to make a joke about 'three neurodivergents argue about social rules' but that's kind of the entire podcast. with the number of neurodivergents differing by episode.

-THE TWO OF THEM BOWING TO DAVID...hartro‏‏‎ ‎genuinely getting into it and sounding like she's about to cry and‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎ ‎sounding so deadpan

-oh i Hate this conversation! i hate the conversation they're having about killing off everyone who's ever met a board member!

-hartro‏‏‎ ‎and‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎ ‎as david's pa's <3

-IS THE BOARD ALL DEAD. DID THEY NEVER EXIST IN THE FIRST PLACE. BECAUSE IF SO THAT ALL CHECKS OUT

-"the...secret loss?" "yeah, you idiot, the secret loss where the board all died, have you been living under a rock??"

-CALLED IT, BABY

-yesssss go OFF imogen!!

-DON'T BE MEAN TO HER STANDARDS!!!!!!

-"hello, and welcome to 'so you've discovered that the board is dead,' with me,‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎sigmund‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎shankeray.'"‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎trexel--"ugh, this guy again?"

-context:

-ughhhhh tasty tasty worldbuilding!!!! the board all dying in an incident....security was destroyed in a coup.....standards wants to replace imogen with new board.....

-HOLY SHIT

-IT'S A "NO MAN CAN KILL ME" RULE

-NO PERSON CAN ALTER IMOGEN'S CORE FUNCTIONS....BUT CLONES DON'T COUNT AS PEOPLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-OH MY GOD THIS IS SO TASTY

-IMOGEN WAS TRYING TO GET DAVID ONTO THE BOARD FOR HER OWN REASONS!!! AND THAT'S WHY HE'S SUCH A FUCKED UP LITTLE ANARCHY BOY!!!!!

-angry beyond belief that something that‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎trexel‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎could figure out confused me badly enough that i had to relisten to the same part twice and reread the transcript to figure out why the plan wouldn't work.

-in case of a deadlock....

-one of the ORIGINAL FOUNDING FAMILIES

-CAN BE NOMINATED -TO BREAK THE TIE

-AND GUESS WHOSE BITCH ASS IS FROM A FOUNDING FAMILY?????

-ugh you big big dummy...even your big moment is just reduced to who can take you to the better bar. but he does call david his favorite clone. and he DOES vote with them.

-"well--aheh-hah."

-oh my god. david's smug little laugh is my new favorite noise in the ENTIRE WORLD.

-number 48's maniacal laugh is Very fun. but don't shoot david please.

-"trust me! i'm a‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎geistman."

-the WAY HE SAYS THAT LINE IS FUCKING

-HMDGKDGDMHODHGGRGRRRRHHH.

-OH HE COMES THROUGH IN THE END

-DAVID'S CHAIR IS THE ONLY ONE NOT HOOKED UP TO AN ESCAPE POD SO HE HITS THE EMERGENCY EVACUATION AND

-GOD. FUCK.

-obsessed with the group's enraged "TREXELLLLLLLL!" as they get launched out of the airlock in the pod. that's absolutely cartoon levels of sillydumb and i love it.

-"can we....get them? we can't just leave them out there. it's inhumane." "they wouldn't do the same for you." "i don't know, i think...i think that maybe he would have."

-HI, BAWLING MY FUCKING EYES OUT

-THIS IS GONNA BE THE LAST TIME THEY SEE EACH OTHER ISN'T IT. THEY AREN'T GONNA GET THE POD BACK ARE THEY.

-YEAH. CHECKS OUT.

-okay so they're alive but in any number of thousands of habitable locations across the galaxy. that's not so bad! i can write fix-it for that easy! these motherfuckers are gonna be friends forever whether they like it or not! the worst found family may be free of the everpresent fear of death but they will never be free from the status quo.‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎ ‎finds out the planet they land on doesn't have a bar and he figures out a way to access a communications system from scratch so he can call david in tears.

-the little trumpet when david gets voted in....HELL YEAH, HAIL DAVID!!!!!

-"well, you do have the power to destroy‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎stellar‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎firma‏‏‎ ‎now. i'd never allow another ai to take over, but i'd quite happily...burn this all to the ground."

-YESSSSS KILL VIOLENCE DEATH KILL KILL

-imogen sounds so hurt when david starts asking alex to make copies to run functions...."explain away! i can both listen and plot my revenge at the same time."

-"...but that was before the population crash, so the escape shuttles should be able to contain everyone!" "and the clones!" "oh, right, the clones! recalculating and the clones too! wouldn't forget them! :)"

-oh i have too many thoughts about this conversation i'm just gonna post it and let it sit

-DAVID AND IMOGEN ON A PLEASURE CRUISE TO‏‏‎ ‎GALACTONIUM!!!!! FUCK YEAH BABY!!!!!! GOOD FOR THEM!!!!!

-after credits‏‏‎ ‎enola‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎scene!!! my beloved!!!!

-okay okay okay okay okay okay okay. hoooooooooooh boy.

-THAT WAS!!! REALLY GOOD!!!!! AND EVERYONE MORE OR LESS TURNED OUT OKAY....WE GOT OUR ANTICAPITALIST MESSAGE....the only thing we didn't get was the main four's theater troupe and i think i'll forever be a littttttle bitter about that but nobody's stopping me from writing about (or just imagining)‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎hartro‏‏‏‏‎ ‎‎and‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎eventually tracking down a working communications system and finding david and imogen so they can all yell at each other forevermore. i'm gonna miss these stupid little dorks so much but i'm so glad i got to be here for the ride. now to figure out whether cyril went with david and imogen or‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎trexel‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎and‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎hartro‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‎and how it changes their fake little storyline.

#congratulations to all of you! you never have to see another one of these.#but you May have to deal with me getting my questions answered in next week's q + a which may be worse.#nyx's sf spam

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alexhogh7137 · 4 years ago

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The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Defamed

Chapter Eighteen

Word Count 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of rape (nothing in detail), beatings, angst

Ivar has been restless but at the same time, resting. Hvitserk has been talking strategies with his brother Ubbe, as well as his wife Torvi. He has been drinking heavily and has not slept in the last forty eight hours. Ivar on the other hand, has slept fairly well, considering the circumstances that they are all in. Hvitserk as well as Ubbe have noticed his behavior and had grown fairly aggravated with their brother.

Ubbe "What is up with Ivar hmm? Do you know what our brother's problem is?"

Hvitserk "I don't understand it Ubbe. How can he be so calm when his wife is being held captive somewhere...could be dying."

Ubbe "And carrying his child nonetheless." Hvitserk lays his head down and does not say a word. Ubbe notices and catches on very quickly and giggles to himself. "What?"

Ubbe "I knew it. I knew that Ivar could not get a woman pregnant." Hvitserk chuckles and puts his head down.

Ubbe "So I am assuming you are the father, yes?"

Hvitserk clears his throat, "Yes. Ivar is aware, Ubbe. He allowed it."

Ubbe "Wow. I am shocked. But at the same time, I am happy to hear this news. It is good news that you are going to be a father, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk "Hopefully."

Ubbe "Hey," he places his hand on his shoulder, "she's gonna make it brother. She is and so is your baby." Torvi sat there and listened.

Torvi "Have hope, Hvitserk. Never give up on hope and faith. That is all we have to get through this time."

Hvitserk "It is kind of hard when I lost her...the only woman that I have come to love since….well...she is gone and I don't know where to begin to look."

Ubbe "We sent our men to Vestfold and Rogaland-"

Hvitserk "She isn't there, Ubbe. I can't see her there."

Torvi "Where can you see her?"

Hvitserk "Wessex. That is the only place that makes sense to me. Her father tortured her numerous times in the past, endless beatings...he would take her." Ubbe looks at Torvi and sighs.

Ubbe "If we do not find her there, we will go to Wessex immediately, okay?"

Hvitserk "Fine."

…

Ivar has been absent. Just nowhere to be found. But he wanted it to be that way. He feels immense guilt and regret that he just cannot look at his brother's in the eyes without breaking down right in front of them. So there he is, sitting in the woods, waiting for news from his men that traveled to Vestfold and Rogaland. He is sitting in the grass with his black cloak on and his hood up.

"What have I done? Why did I say that? Why?" He said to himself. He looked up at the sky and screamed. Letting himself feel every emotion and grief that a man in his position should feel. Hvitserk sees his brother in the woods and watches him from afar. His hood is on and he waits for his brother's screams to stop before he joins him.

Hvitserk "Finally feeling the emotions, huh?"

Ivar "I feel like I can't breathe, Hvitserk. Ever since she left-"

Hvitserk "I know. I know."

Ivar "I feel so guilty. So responsible for her disappearance."

Hvitserk "Why do you think so harshly brother? Is there something that you aren't telling me?"

Ivar "I said something that I regret."

Hvitserk "Said what?"

Ivar "When she got mad at me, I told her that I hoped your vision would come true."

Hvitserk "You did what?!"

Ivar "I regret it. I never should have said it."

Hvitserk "You NEVER hope for bad things! The gods hear everything!"

Ivar "I know this, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk "So why did you hope for such a thing?!"

Ivar "I was angry-"

Hvitserk "WELL I HOPE THAT YOU ARE HAPPY! BECAUSE IT CAME TRUE, SHE'S GONE!"

Ivar "I'm sorry-"

Hvitserk "Do not apologize to me, apologize to your wife that is being tortured somewhere. If she comes back, if she is still alive, you owe her an apology."

Ivar "For what?"

Hvitserk "For letting it happen," he gets up, "and for not saving her when she needed you the most."

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

You wake up the sound of the chain doors opening. Your father comes in with a plate of food.

Father "Eat up. You are going to need your strength today."

"What? Why?"

Father "King Harald wants to show his prize to the people of Wessex."

"I am not his prize."

Father "You are if you want your father to stay king. Now eat, I don't know when the next time I will be able to feed you."

"I can't believe that you would think that I would lie about being pregnant."

Father kneels down beside, "I do believe you. And I am happy for you. But I can't save you anymore."

"Anymore? You never did."

When you watch your father leave, you start to cry again. You fear what will happen this day. What Harald would do to you. You don't know how much more you can take. Last night, he came in four more times and had his way with you. Each time being more harsh and painful.

"Hvitserk...if you can hear me, I don't know how much longer I have. I don't know if I have weeks, days, hours or minutes but I just want you to know. I love you and our daughter loves you."

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

Hvitserk hears you loud and clear. He falls to his knees, walking back to the house. In front of his people and weeps.

"Y/n...Y/n I can hear you okay? Please stay with me. I am going to find you. I am going to save you, you are going to be okay. Just stay strong, and know that even though you can't see me, I am with you." He runs to Ubbe and tells him what he heard.

Ubbe "Did she tell you anything else? Like where she is or who has her?"

Hvitserk "N-no! She just said that she doesn't know how much time she has left. Ubbe, for the first time in years, I am afraid. So afraid."

Ubbe "Everything will be okay, dear brother. You hear her. You can feel her, yes?"

Hvitserk "Yes...but she is weak."

Ubbe "We will get to her okay? Keep your head up."

Hvitserk "Yes. I will try."

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

You hear him and smile. You do not know if Ivar can hear you, or if he did yesterday when you called for him. Because unlike Hvitserk, Ivar did not respond. You don't know if he is worried or even cares. Since he told you before all of this happened that he wanted this to happen to you, does he really care? Does he really love you like he said he does? We will find out.

When you finish the little meal that was given to you, you wait because that is the only thing that you can do.

Harald comes in after what feels like an eternity, with a smirk on his face. "Good morning! Did you sleep well?"

"How could I? You raped me five times yesterday?!"

Harald chuckles, "Ah yes. Thank you for that by the way. I guess I should have thanked you for giving me such a prize."

"I didn't give it to you! You took it!"

Harald leans down and grabs you by the throat, slightly choking you "That is right! I took it, because I am allowed by your father to take whatever I want, when I want it. And you are what I want."

"What are you going to do when they find me, hmm?"

Harald "Who?"

"My husband, Ivar the Boneless. And his brother's."

Harald "Well I am not too worried about that. And if they do come, I will get much use out of you before then." He let's go of your throat and throws your head down onto the pavement. You wince out in pain but hold your composure. He watches you squirm to get yourself together. When he is done watching you, he grabs you by the wrist and yanks you upwards. When you feel the pain in between your legs, it takes your breath away.

Harald "Let's go see what your people will think of you when they see you now!"

….

When you walk out in front of your people, you spot your childhood friend first. She puts her hand over her mouth and starts to cry. You watch her breakdown at the sight of what happened to you, and all you can do is mouth "I'm okay, I'll be okay."

Harald "People of Wessex! This...is your princess! This is who you looked up to, idolized! And now look at her, broken and beaten."

"BY YOU!" He hits you so hard in the face that you fall to the ground. You hear the people shout out in your defense.

Harald "Do not listen to her! She is a liar, a whore! She is not the woman that you thought she was!"

"HE'S LYING! DON'T LISTE-" He kicks you while you are still down. Kicking you until you are coughing up blood. But you won't stop. You won't let this man defame you and your image. You love your people. Even if they are not yours anymore, they once were.

Harald "I have come to save this kingdom from ruin!"

Father "That is right! You have a new king now! He will rule Wessex by my side and things will be much different! Now I assure you, brighter days are ahead!"

"NOT IF YOU KILL THE PRINCESS!" Your best friend shouted.

Father "I AM NOT KILLING MY DAUGHTER! I AM SIMPLY ALLOWING KING HARALD TO TEACH HER A LESSON!"

"And what lesson is that?!" She yelled.

Father "A lesson in blasphemy against the king!"

"Father please...let me go-"

Father "SILENCE!"

Harald kneels down in front of you, using his boot to raise your chin so that you look at him "Now tell me, where are those wonderful dragon's of yours?" Your heart sinks in your chest. Not only do you have to worry about your child in your belly, but your babies back in Kattegat as well. You don't know if you could live without them. They are your entire world.

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

Hours and hours go by without any news from the ships that sailed out in search for you. Your dragon's have not eaten all day. People of Kattegat are barely talking, everyone is just so silent. But their thoughts, however, are screaming. The constant thought, where are you, who has you? Hvitserk sits by the fire and prays:

"Dear Odin, please help her. Please keep her strong. Be with Y/n now. Be with her and give her the strength that she needs to survive this battle. Be with my child. Keep him or her alive. Please, I need them." He stops when he hears a creak in the floorboards behind him. He turns around and sees his brother Ivar standing there.

Hvitserk "What do you want?"

Ivar "Look, you can be mad at me all you want. That is not going to bring her back. We need to all stick together to get her back...to get through this. And afterwards, if you want to hate me you can. You have every reason to, and I do not blame you. If I was in your place, I would hate me to-"

Hvitserk gets in his brother's face, "I loved her."

Ivar "I know that you do, Hvitserk. If I didn't before, I definitely do now." Hvitserk scuffs and walks back to the fire.

Ivar "I will find her and we will get justice for her-" Ubbe comes in the room.

Ubbe "They are back!"

Hvitserk "AND?!"

Ubbe "She wasn't there. I am sorry."

Hvitserk "So can we go where she is?!"

Ivar "Wessex.."

Hvitserk "Wessex."

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

You lay on the ground, getting snowed on. You are too weak to stand. Your friend waits for King Harald and your father to leave your side for a moment, then runs to you.

"Y/n...Y/n?"

"...Heyyy." you force a smile and even a giggle.

"OH MY GOD!" She starts to bawl and holds you close as you both ride out your emotions.

"You can't stay here.."

"I don't care! Is there anything I can do to help?!" She asked.

"Write to Kattegat. Tell Ivar that I am being held captive and tortured...tell them I don't have long."

"Y/n.."

"Just do it for me, please."

"I-I will. Is there anything else?"

"Yeah...tell them to bring my dragon's." She smiles and kisses your cheek.

"I love you. Stay strong. Stay alive."

"Always. Oh, you are going to be an auntie!"

"W-what?!"

"I am with child. Well I was before he brought me here. I am hoping and praying to the gods that I still am."

"Y/n...congratulations."

"Thank you, beautiful. Now go before you get caught." She hurries off and you watch her leave. You look at your people who are rioting over the sight of you. You look at the chaos unraveling right before your father and King Harald. You watch with a smirk on your face. Death is not an option. It never was an option. You can't wait to see your dragon's burn these men to ashes. And only ashes will they be once your family arrives. You can only hope that that is as soon as possible.

@hvitserkmarcosource @a-mess-of-fandoms @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @jzr201 @conaionaru @ivarzeitgeist @herestherealproblem @kaitieskidmore1 @heavenly1927 @saldelys

#the battle between love and fire #ivar the god #ivar lothbrok #ivar the boneless #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk #ubbe lothbrok #torvi vikings #alex hogh andersen #marco ilsø #marco ilsoe #jordan patrick smith #vikings

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harleyliloquin88 · 4 years ago

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Memories

Memories ( Dean x Reader)

Warning:/sadness/ heartache/ heartbreak/ tension/ depression/ pain

FYI I wrote this while I was watching the notebook lol

Hey guys sorry its been a while since i wrote, took a year off and needed to get some ideas and was reading others work and it helped me to do better writing and put more of me in writing so , sorry its so long was just really was in the mood.

Summary: Dean and you broke up many months ago You both decide it was best after everything that went on, but one night changed for the two of you.

Tagged list @deanwanddamons @holylulusworld @marvelfansworld @donnaintx @katymacsupernatural @myinconnelly1 @amanda-teaches@nikki082489 @flamencodiva

let me know what you think and reviews and thanks so much

(Dean pov)

She was my everything. O client ask for a better girl. It was like that one movie she made me watch. Beauty and the beast. That movie was one of her favorites. I didn't understand why she told me it was our love story. Pssshhh me And love stories ha.

I didn't understand what she meant by it but later I knew what she was telling me. The beast was a mean person who was cursed and didn't have many friends or family. Until one day belle showed up and taught him how to live and learn to love again. I could see why she called me the beast. She was my belle. No matter where she was she always call me her beast and I would call her my belle.

Walking to to old bedroom we use to sleep in together. I turn on the light. So empty and quiet her stuff is gone and the room feels cold and lifeless. Sighing to myself I lay down on the bed. Placing my head on the pillow. The sweet smell still lingers on the pillows. That sweet scented lavender honey mixture she loved. Closing my eyes for a few seconds it feels like she still here.

Few hours later I slowly wale up. Sam wasn't home yet so I decided to get dinner ready. As I started getting out of bed I noticed something odd. The book shelf that was near my bed had some kinda of box.

I reached over to the side pulling it towards me. Taking into my hands. I notice it had belong to (y/n). It wasn't just any box it was one of those chinese boxes she tried to get me interested in(fyi my dad has these when I was kind I loved them so much )

Trying for about ten minutes I was about to give up when I slid one more piece and it popped right open. Placing the box down on the bed I remove the two items from the box .

As I remove the items from the box I find a picture and a letter. i Uncrumpled the picture. It was from when me and (y/n) met for the first time. She was so beautiful and she was so perfect, Moving my finger across the picture. My eyes start to well up. Sniffing a little bit, As I put the picture down I find a note. Opening the note.

August 12. 2013

Dear, Dean

I have had to write this note about 100 times, im not even sure how I am gonna give this to you or maybe send it, ummm. Dean there is so much I wanna tell you but I am not sure how the words can come out. Dean I know life hasnt been easy for you and sam. I know you try to play this tough guy but i know deep down your afraid but its okay. Its okay to someone in. I know i know i have my own issues that i have to slove but Hey we are a team.

He laughs a bit. Runnin his finger down the letter. Few droplets start falling on his face. He finishes reading.

'Dean i hope you know that no matter what happends in life or even in choas times you will always be my beast and i will always be your Belle.

I love you dean more then you know.

Love (y/n)

Dean rubs his hand over his face sighs to himself and sets the paper down. Looking one more time at the picture. Something clicks in his head. He grabs his keys and heads out to find you and tell you he needs you.

Driving for a few hours i decided to stop a motel. I called sam letting him know i was okay. He gave me information on (y/n) .i needed to see her .

Putting my key into the lock of my room. Opening up the room had a very errie look to it. Walls painted like a yellow vomit with a few chipped paint. Walking in i set my bag down on the bed.a part of me wanted to just say fuck it and go back home she wouldnt wanna talk to me.. what could i say to her. A millon thoughts running in my head. I decided to just relax and try to call her. Making my way to thw bathroom when my phone lit up.i grab my phone before i could answer it was (y/n) number lighting up. I quickly answered it.

'(Y/n) i said with a hushed whispear

'dean' she says with a quite sleepy voice.

'Umm hi" i can hear the nervous way of her talking.

'Where are you' she ask me.

'Im in georgia just needed sometime and a vacation"

''IS sam with you'

'Nope just me'

I could hear the nervouseness in her voice. My thoughs were running a millon times fast. I could hear the movement of.my heart muscles beatting so fast it was like it was gonna fault out. For a few minutes there was nothing but silence.

'Is everything alright are you okay? Do you need me to come-

"No sam okay everything fine" i say with a bit of a laugh.

"I just needed time to think and gwt my thoughts in order. I say scratching under my chin.

“Hmmm dean Winchester traveling without his brother wow sounds very serious” you say with a small chuckle .

'I got the letter you wrote me on the first night we met' i say breathing slowly,

I hear a small laugh on the other end.

'Oh that letter yeah i meant to give it to you but i guess i never did. I rewrote that letter like over a thousand times. It was when i wanted to tell you instead of face

Remember to let her into your heart

Then you can start to make it better

I close my eyes and listen to her soothing voice

You were made to go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better

Hey Jude, don't be afraid

You were made to go out and get her

The minute you let her under your skin

Then you begin to make it better

a tear drop falls from my eye, Trying my best to stay strong and not given in, I remember that song, I would sing it to her when she was sad or when she needed a friend. My heart started to beat more and more it, I was scared it was gonna fall out of my body.

And anytime you feel the pain

Hey Jude, refrain

Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

For well you know that it's a fool

Who plays it cool

By making his world a little colder

Na-na-na, na, na

Na-na-na, na

“Dean” You say as tears fall down your face, Trying you best not to break down in front of him. you breath in then out,

“Yes baby” I say

“I miss you” You say trying bot to breakdown and wantng him to come find you and just hold you until you feel whole again.

“what happened between us (y/n)” We use to talk about everything and anything and even when we couldn't talk we just be there. Dean says breathing softly.

“i think we just stop fighting for each other and just didn't care anymore “ You sit down at the kitchen table,

“i think everything changed once you went to hell and you became a different person it was like no matter how hard i fought myself to stay with you in the end i just couldn't do it anymore Breathing and sighing a bit,

I swallow a huge lump in throat.tears falling down my face and brushing them away with my face.

“(y/n) Im so sorry i should have never put you through what i did. i wasn't even thinking of your safety or was thinking about you. Dean says rubbing his neck.

“Dean it wasn't your fault you had so much going on and you had to do what was best for you”

“MY JOB WAS TO BE THERE FOR YOU KEEP YOU SAFE KEEP YOU OUTTA HARMS WAY . Dean says crying.

“Dean” You say with a whispear.

“ Never In a million years did i think having this life would make things seem less crazy but the one thing in my life that was normal and happiness was you”

“after we broke up nothing felt right everything just seemed like i was living in a nightmare and i didn't wanna wake up” Dean says pulling out a tiny small box with gold writing.

“No matter how many bars i went or drinks i had i cloud not stop thinking about you” A part of me wanted to find you and bring you back here and try again.” but i knew I cloud not be that guy i once way.

“Hell changed me in a way i cant explain so many things so many emotion. so much horrible things i cant even put into words princess” Dean says shaking his head and tears falling down his face.

you can feel the pain in deans voice, you can hear him crying and trying his best to stay so long. You knew he had been struggling and you knew he wasn't the same. A part of you blamed yourself for why you and dean fell apart, Hearing the man you love trying this best not to fall to pieces you cant help but feel your heart ripping into two.

"baby I need to know one thing and please tell me' you can hear the pain and sadness in his voice.

"what dean" you say with a hush of your voice.

"I need to see you. I need to feel you with me. All I wanna do is hold you in my arms just hear the you laugh .

"dean" you know you needed dean touch you needed to see him so bad but you didn't know if you let him back in would you go back to normal or would you try to fix it.

"dean" you sigh closing your eyes and breathing deeply.

"I ___ phone goes dead'(y/n(yn)

Dean throws the phone on the bed

"dean dean" she about to call him back when she looks up to see the one man she fears.

"hello(y/n) we meet again soon everything goes black.

"put her in the car come on boys we have a play date"

What do you guys think I may make a second one not sure. I know this isn't my best but I'll be working more on my writting so bye ;)

#my writing #supernatural #deanwhinchester #deanxreader #oneshot #spn #thisonebrokemyheart #reader insert #reader #memories #supernaturaloneshot

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