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moonbeambucky · 4 years ago

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I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23 for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you.

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other.

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner.

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…”

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your “boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more.

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself.

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed.

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer. You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year.

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly.

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission.

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.”

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.”

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.”

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was.

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work.

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.”

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars.

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex.

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time.

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you.

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could.

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel.

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history.

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat.

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?”

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became.

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.”

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young.

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him.

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.”

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home.

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom.

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body.

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure.

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing.

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him.

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin.

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you.

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do.

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close.

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend.

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.”

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited.

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…”

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath.

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat.

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different.

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.”

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.”

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to.

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased.

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…”

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.”

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.”

PART 2

#chris beck x reader #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck fluff #dad!chris beck #chris beck x you

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years ago

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listen before i go > bucky barnes

|| pairing: bucky barnes x black!reader

|| word count: 6,630

|| warnings: angst, heavy angst, smut, sex, bucky barnes’ trigger words, cock warming if you look close

|| square filled: @star-spangled-bingo SSB2020 N5: needy clingy sex

|| square filled: @buckybarnesbingo C1: angst

|| summary: you and bucky just can’t say what you want to say.

|| link: ao3

|| note: sad boi hours are still commencing. this one is gonna hurt, dudes. please heed the warnings. i think i said i don’t like posting on sunday’s, and here i am posting two sunday’s in a row. what are ya gonna do? title inspired by billie eilish’s listen before i go. don’t hate me!

line divider by @writeyourmindaway

Tears leak from your eyes. You cover your face with your hands as he shoves his clothes into his old duffel bag. Say you’re sorry. Don’t let him leave!

“Bucky-”

“Don’t,” he says curtly, zipping up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder, “You want me out, I’m leaving.”

You don’t want him out. You don’t… or do you? Yes. You do. That’s what you told your friends. That’s what you told yourself. That’s what you told him. He has to go - he has too. This isn’t working... right? Emotion wracks your body again as he storms past you. Your shoulders shake as the sadness consumes you. Your face breaks, your heart sinks, your cries clog your throat, choking you.

You don’t follow him.

Bucky stops at the door of your apartment, his hand on the knob. He turns his head, just a little, listening to you cry. He closes his eyes, cursing himself. He doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want to leave you. He should give it up - running around the world, fighting aliens and robots and god knows what else. He’d give it up for you, he would. He should.

He walks out the door and slams it behind him.

----------

It’s been a while, maybe three weeks? Four? You’re not really sure. You’ve busied yourself to keep from thinking about him. You signed up for a cooking class, and a dance class, and picked up a few extra shifts at the bookstore you volunteer at sometimes - just to stay busy. It’s worked for the most part. Between work, your friends, and your new hobbies, you barely have time to think about Bucky Barnes.

That’s a lie. You know exactly how long it’s been. Four weeks. You think about him - not often, this part is true - but you still think about him. Mainly at night, when you’re alone in your big room and your big bed. It’s weird to you now, your bed. Foreign. You never realized how big it was until he wasn’t in it; the whole room really, it’s just so big.

The two of you never made it official, moving in together, but he was there more often than he wasn’t. His broad, heavy body weighing down the mattress, or barely fitting in the shower, but you loved having him here. You always felt safe; consumed by all things him when he was here. Now it’s just empty - quiet. Just you and your little house plant, that he picked out, of course. You just didn’t have the heart to throw it away.

Just like you don’t have the heart to throw him away - his memories.

Not yet.

Not entirely.

That’s why most nights you stare at your phone, your thumb hovering over his name. You’ve tapped it a few times, his name, but always panic as soon as it starts ringing. You tap on the little red phone and throw it into the chair in the corner of the room. You roll over, away from it, just in case it illuminates from an incoming call or text and stare out at the moon, until the emotion just can’t be held back any longer.

You’re lying again. You cry yourself to sleep most nights.

So, this is why you make yourself busy.

----------

It’s been awhile. Four weeks, two days. The girl behind the bar looks like you, kind of. Well, enough to remind Bucky of that soft, warm smile of yours. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was usually in the morning when you’d give him that smile. You’d have your face buried in the pillows and sheets, little slivers of skin poking out from underneath here and there. He loved to watch you sleep.

He’d do anything to be able to wake up next to you again.

Anyway, it was usually early, early in the morning when you’d smile at him the way that bartender is smiling at him now. You’d be half asleep, not really coherent enough to even know who you were smiling at, but you’d shift next to him - curl right into his body, and just smile. Softly. Sweetly. Then you’d take a breath, a deep one, tighten your grip around his waist and fall right back asleep.

He’d fall right back asleep with you.

“You doin’ okay?” The bartender asks, smiling at him again.

Bucky drops his eyes to the glass in his hands as he spins it slowly. She doesn’t look like you up close. He picks up his drink and finishes off the last drops before he slides it in her direction, “One more.”

She winks at him, “You got it.”

She’s flirting with you, Bucky. He used to not care when women were flirting with him. If he’s telling the absolute truth, he still doesn’t - he should. It’s been four weeks and two days after all.

She’s not you.

She kinda looks like you, smiles like you, but she’s not you.

He doesn’t want a similar version of you.

He wants you.

She slides the now full glass of whiskey towards him, Bucky catching it with just the tips of his fingers. He can feel her eyes on him as he lifts it to his lips and takes a slow sip before he nods slowly, staring at the glass. He slides his eyes towards the flirtatious bartender and smirks, “I’m Bucky.”

“Tamera.”

----------

It’s Friday night, so that means it’s sushi class night. Steve decided to come with you this time, he’s been trying to get Sam to try it for the longest time - figured, maybe Sam would feel a little more comfortable with it if Steve made it. You and Steve have always gotten along really well, which surprised you because, you know, he’s Steve Rogers; rigid and uptight. He’s not that uptight, Sam’s still working on the rigid thing, though.

The two of you have been having fun. It’s nice seeing Steve be not-so-good at something for a change. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, but your hands are sticky and covered in rice, so you bounce off to the sink to wash them quickly. You pull out your iPhone, expecting to see a text from your sister, MJ, but find a notification from Apple News.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes,…

Your lips part as you read his name. You glance over your shoulder, you’re not really sure why, as if everyone’s eyes are going to be on you because you're reading up on your ex-boyfriend. You take a breath. You shouldn’t care what Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes is doing, but you want to know what Avengers bad boy Bucky Barnes is doing. God, you hope he’s not hurt.

Don’t look. It isn’t your business anymore. You turn on your heel, shoving the phone back into your pocket, but can’t seem to take a step away from the sink. You just - fuck, maybe he’s hurt. He’s probably done something stupid again, he just got that new arm not three months ago. Shuri is gonna kill him.

It’s still not your business, even if the fucker is hurt. You still can’t move. You place your hand on your back pocket, feeling your phone, debating with yourself. You shouldn’t fucking care - but you do. So you pull it out and tap on the notification, taking you to the original TMZ article. Your blood runs cold.

Avengers bad boy, Bucky Barnes, seen leaving an uptown bar with mystery woman

Your mouth goes dry as you read down the page. Your breath hitches in your throat when you get to the pictures. His fingers curled in hers as they move down the street. Smiles on their faces. Then his arm is over her shoulders. Then -

You blink back the sudden flood of tears furiously as your chin starts to tremble. He’s kissing her. He’s got her up against his apartment building, his hands cupping her face. Her eyes are closed and his head is tilted - his body is crushed up against hers - just like the two of you used to do. He used to pull you close, so tight into his body as the two of you would wind your way through the city. Then, right when you turned the corner onto his street, he’d whirl you around him, and push you up against the building. He’d push his hands up your shirt, pinching, grabbing, his lips crushed to yours.

Now he’s found someone else. He’s kissing someone else the exact same way he used to kiss you. You can’t help but read on, seeing the pictures of them leaving together in the morning - hand in hand again. It’s over. All the nights you’ve spent staring down at his name on your phone, trying to call him, wanting to call him… you should have called him. Maybe he wouldn’t be with her.

It’s over.

You and Bucky are really over.

“Hey,” you don’t even really hear Steve when he walks up to you, “Hey, you okay?”

He follows your eyes to the small screen in your hands and tips it towards him, clearing his throat as he skims the last few lines of the article, “Lets not - come on, let’s take a break, huh?”

He ushers you outside and immediately draws you into his chest, rubbing your back, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Oh, honey.” He sighs softly as you sob.

It’s really over.

----------

It’s Friday night. No, actually it’s Saturday morning; 2:32am. Bucky sits on the edge of his bed, his head hanging as he rubs his forehead with his hand. He picks his head up just high enough to glance over his shoulder at the sleeping woman behind him. Tamera. It’s the second night in a row that he’s had her and she’s still not you.

She doesn’t feel like you - her body, her mouth. She doesn’t sound like you, she doesn’t move like you… she’s not you. No matter how hard he tries to pretend that she is you; she’s not you. He blinks and hangs his head again as his thumb hovers over your name in his phone. He needs to hear your voice, especially now. He wasn’t… ready for this. He wasn’t ready the first time, but he forced himself and hated it. He forced himself again tonight and not only did he hate it, he hates himself.

He should have called you weeks ago.

He should have texted you and apologized and asked if he could come back because that’s all that he really wants; to just walk through your front door, back into your apartment and your shared life as the proud parents of a small plant. He should have called you weeks ago. If he had, he wouldn’t be here right now, with Tamera in his bed, pain in his heart, that nagging voice in his head.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t feel bad right now. He did what every other person does, he moved on. He shouldn’t care about what you think anymore - but he does. He knows how you feel about these kinda things. You weren’t this kinda girl, the one who just goes home with some guy named Bucky after eye fucking him for half the night. Not that you’re a prude, not that you shame anyone, it just isn’t you - these random hook ups.

He liked that about you. That you were kind of old school. Reminded him of the good old days, back in the thirties. Innocent dates, sneaking little kisses so nobody would see, those little giggles that filled his ears when he pushed a little further every time he saw you. He’s always enjoyed a little chase. He enjoyed chasing you, and when he finally caught you, he still found himself fantasizing about you. Every damn day.

Even now. Even with someone else underneath him, he still thought about you - he had to, or else he couldn’t have…

He bites the inside of his lip before he lets out a deep sigh. Your name stares up at him from the soft lighting of his phone. He needs to hear your voice. He doesn’t want to be in this apartment, in this bed, with this woman. He just wants to be wrapped up in your arms, curled around your little, warm body, his fingers pressed into your flesh, your warm breath splashing over his face.

He swallows. His thumb starts to tremble as he holds it over your name.

Call her now. Tell her you’re sorry.

He closes his eyes, “Fuck.”

He cuts his eyes towards the nightstand, staring at it until it doesn’t even look like a nightstand anymore.

He throws his phone into the chair in the corner of the room.

He stands and moves into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him before he flips on the water of the shower, turning it as hot as he can.

He’s gotta get that woman’s smell off of him.

----------

It’s been four months since that Friday night sushi class. You’re now a sushi rolling expert - which, you are pretty proud of. You got a promotion at work. You have a kitten. You and MJ have a Hawaiian vacation coming up over Christmas. Things are… brighter, to say the least.

There’s still moments. You’ll be at work, or waiting in line at the coffee shop and a brief thought will streak across your mind. I wonder what Bucky’s doing? You don’t think about it for long - not anymore. You’re finally starting to get to the point where you really don’t care. You made the right decision that night, asking him to leave. That life - his life - wasn’t one that you wanted to lead. You didn’t want to have to hide away in some upstate safe house every time some villain got wind of your romance.

You didn’t want to stay up all night long, worrying about him as he kicked and punched his way through aliens or robots or whatever the hell decided to come to earth that day. You don’t want to waste days waiting for him to drag his tired, beaten body out of bed after returning from a mission. That life wasn’t - and isn’t - for you. You made the right decision.

“Here you go, doll,” the barista says, smiling as he hands you a vanilla Frap.

Doll. You haven’t heard that in four months. You smile widely, “Thank you.”

You head back out onto the street, sipping on your coffee as you turn up the music to your airpods. The Cottage on the Beach, from the Atonement soundtrack. One of your favorite movies. It’s tragic, but beautiful - the movie, the soundtrack, and your life. You’re getting to the beautiful part, you’re sure of it.

You’re heading back to your apartment after getting lucky at work and having two of your afternoon meetings canceled. Instead of taking the train, you decided to walk - another way of keeping yourself busy. You turn down fifth avenue, also deciding to window shop on the way home, and slow your pace as you move past Saks, eyeing a gorgeous pair of pumps in the window. They would look great on your feet while dancing in Hawaii, that’s for sure.

You stop, pulling out your phone to take a picture to send to your sister, when a voice sounds behind you, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey.”

You snap your eyes from your phone to the window in front of you, almost too afraid to turn. You take a breath, shifting your eyes around the glass window as if you aren’t exactly sure if you heard it or not, you are listening to music after all. Maybe you -

“Hey, can you hear me?”

You turn quickly - and there he is. Blue eyes, fluffy, short hair, stubble covering his cheeks and chin. The leather jacket that you loved so much on his broad torso. He’s slimmed down a bit, but he always did fluctuate, unlike Steve, which you always thought was kinda weird.

He smiles at you, a wide smile, the one that makes his eyes crinkle on the sides, “Hey, I thought it was you. How are you?”

You nod quickly, “I’m um, I’m fine. Hi,” you laugh a little.

“You look… great,” he says, looking you up and down, “Really great.”

“Thank you,” you answer softly, tilting your head down as you tuck some of your hair behind your ear, “You.. you look nice too.”

He shrugs, tearing his eyes from yours to glance off across the street, “Ah, you know. I’ve lost a couple pounds.”

You nod again, “Yeah, I can tell.”

He snaps his eyes back to yours. You stare at each other for a couple of seconds, both of your minds racing, wanting to say so much.

I miss you.

I love you.

Please let me come home.

Please come back.

----------

Bucky blinks at you as you duck your head away from him again. Steve’s words play back in his mind from all those months ago. You didn’t see her that night, Bucky! She was crushed seeing those pictures. Crushed. He couldn’t get the word out of his head for weeks afterward. Crushed. You were crushed seeing those pictures.

He never wanted to hurt you. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have left the hotel with her. Fuck, he shouldn’t have went to the hotel bar in first place. He should have called you, like he wanted to. Maybe, the two of you could have avoided all of this.

Now that he has you here, he doesn’t want you to leave. It’s awkward between you. He watches as you shift nervously, not able to keep your eyes on him for long. Constantly pushing at your hair and then tugging at your blouse. It makes him sad. He doesn’t want you to be nervous around him - unsure of him. He still doesn’t want you to leave, though. He’ll deal with the awkwardness.

“Do you wanna get a drink?” His mouth moves before his brain can keep up with it.

He watches as you shift again nervously, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, “No, I -”

“Please?” He’s nearly begging, “Just,” the words drop away as he runs his hand through his hair, “So, we can talk?”

“There’s not really anything to talk about, Bucky.”

----------

You end up in the bar of the Marriott Hotel with him. He could always talk you into doing shit you didn’t want to do - because after a while, he always made you feel safe. He wouldn’t let anything hurt you, so you just did what he asked you to do. He orders a bourbon, you get white wine. You both sit at the bar, facing straight, not looking at each other, your wine glass placed at your lips, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. He takes a drink and sits the glass down softly, bowing his head.

“I’m sorry,” he says simply, after a while.

You finally turn towards him, “For what?”

“For,” he shrugs, “I shouldn’t have - I don’t know. I’m just sorry, for everything.” I’m sorry for leaving you.

You look back down at your wine glass and your fingers, “You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I should have asked you to stay.

“I could have been more discreet. Those fucking paps are everywhere, I gotta remember that.” Please forgive me.

You shrug a little, you should have known Steve would tell him, “It’s,” you dip your head, “It’s okay. We’re adults, we can… do whatever we want.” I forgive you.

It grows silent between the two of you. You’re both looking at each other now, eyes bouncing back and forth. His eyes then slip down to your lips and fixate on them for a few seconds before they move back up to your wide eyes. Then, suddenly, his large hand is on your cheek, his thumb rubbing along your bottom lip.

His hand is so warm.

You blink as his hand caresses your face - gently. Just like he used to. He tilts his head a little as his lips part, his thumb still dancing over your bottom lip. His eyes still bounce, softly, between yours, reading you, just like he always could. His eyes dip again to your mouth, and his lips, they, they quiver - just slightly. His fingers wrap around the back of your neck and he’s pulling, pulling you into him.

You moan into his mouth almost as soon as his lips are on yours. It’s so familiar, his lips, his mouth, his tongue. For the first time in months, you finally feel like yourself. You lean into him, kissing him back, humming and moaning. It gets desperate - quickly. To the point where he’s standing, both of his hands cupping your face as he kisses you hard. Your hands slide around his waist to pull him closer as you inhale him.

He pulls you up on your feet and pecks your lips once, twice, three times. He grabs your hand and pulls your towards the front desk, lacing his fingers with yours as he asks for a room. Your heart pounds in your chest and ears as you rest your head against his back, shielding yourself from the clerk’s prying eyes.

Bucky digs in his pocket, grabbing his wallet and throwing his card down before scribbling his name on the receipt. The clerk slides the key cards in Bucky’s direction with a smile and drops his attention back to the small computer in front of him. He’s seen this too many times to care.

You keep your fingers twisted with Bucky’s as you wait for the elevator. Neither one of you look at each other as you stare at the illuminated numbers as they descend. The doors open as the soft ding sounds and you both step on, Bucky slamming his finger on the round number ten. Neither one of you say anything as the metal box carries you up into the hotel, slowing and then stopping at your floor.

You let Bucky guide you down the hall, stopping at room 1022. He presses the card against the reader and the door clicks, popping open slightly. Bucky pushes through, pulling you with him, only letting your hand go to close and lock the door behind you. You walk into the room, your eyes scanning. Your eyes land on the bed. It’s a big bed. It looks soft.

You inhale sharply when you feel Bucky’s chest crush against your back. His fingers slither around your waist as his lips press against the back of your neck. You close your eyes and push your hand up and into his hair as you let your body melt into his. You tilt your head towards the ceiling as he starts to sway the two of you back and forth slowly, his tongue sneaking out from behind his lips to lap at your warm, sensitive skin. His metal hand moves up into your shirt, inching along your skin until it cups your breasts firmly, making you moan, really moan for the first time.

You love that arm.

His digits push into your bra, rolling your nipple softly as his teeth sink into the crook of your neck. You jump, grunting deeply as your body tightens. God, it’s been so long.

His free hand snakes down to your jeans, popping the button and pushing down your zipper. It slithers in, his flesh sliding into your panties and between your slick folds. You jolt forward at the sensual touch, bent at your hips as his fingers start to massage your sex. Your mouth hangs open as you draw in ragged breaths, your hips pushing forward, anticipating his next stroke. He bends forward with you, groaning into your ear as he rubs your clit - quick - just how he knows to do.

He pushes his fingers inside of you and you push back up straight, reaching back to pull on his hair. He pumps them hard as he pinches your taut nipple, his breath hot and heavy against the side of your face. He pushes his hips into your behind, wanting you to feel him, feel how much he wants you - how much he’s missed you.

He tugs on your earlobe with his teeth and you whimper. The pain mixing with the pleasure his fingers bring. You don’t want his fingers any longer. You want him, all of him. You want to scream his name as he fucks you into the mattress, hour after hour. You want to drag your nails down his long, sinewy back. You want to feel his cock stretching you, spreading you, spearing you.

Bucky apparently wants the same. He could always read your mind, it seemed. He pulls his hands away from you to strip you down, tossing your clothing to the floor without a care. He pushes you onto the bed once you’re exposed and bare, flipping you onto your back by your ankle. He pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your calf and pushes his knees into the mattress as he starts to disrobe himself.

You sit up, wrapping your legs around his and bite down in your bottom lip as you send your eyes up to his. You place your hands on his hips, raking your fingers down his back as soon as his polka dotted shirt falls to the floor. You drop your eyes to his hands as his fingers start to fumble with the thick belt holding up his black jeans. You moan a little as you watch him, his skilled fingers moving slowly - - dropping the belt to the floor with a thud before popping the button and pushing down the zipper.

You hiss when his jeans fall. Dark hair peeks out over the band of his Hugo Boss boxer briefs and you can’t resist any longer. You lean in and press your plump lips to his warm skin, placing soft kisses along his sculpted stomach, breathing in his scent. He lets out a deep breath as his metal fingers skim over your shoulder and cup your chin softly. He pushes his index finger into your chin, pushing your head up so the two of you can link eyes once more. Your lips part as you stare up into his stormy eyes - blinking only when his thumb sweeps over your bottom lip.

He kisses you quickly, holding your chin all the while. He pulls away, but not far, his lips still brushing the tip of your nose as his eyes move around your face. He always did like to look at you. He cups the back of your head and lays you onto the mattress, spreading your legs with his knees. You hold onto his shoulders as you fold your legs around his waist, hooking your ankles together as you feel him start to press at your opening.

When he pushes, and you start to spread for him, you slam your eyes closed and dig your nails into his thick flesh. You whimper as he sinks into you slowly, his weight pushing you into the mattress. Once you’ve swallowed him - his hips are flush to yours - you wiggle your hips and push your heels into the small of his back, wanting him deeper, even though it isn’t possible.

Agonizingly slow, he pulls out of you - his mouth dropping open as he watches. You wrap your hands around his forearms as he withdraws, and then plunges back in with a little force. You push upward with the thrust, releasing an airy grunt as he fills you back up. He kisses you again, hard, desperate, as he starts to fuck into you, his hips pushing and pulling with a rhythm all their own.

You’ve always loved the way Bucky fucks you. It was instant, from the first time that the two of you were together, he just knew you; knew what you wanted, what you liked. It’s kind of dirty, the way he fucks you. Even when he’s being sweet, and gentle, it’s still a little obscene - crude. The darkness in him comes out when he fucks you. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

He’s ruined you for other men.

Your hips dig into the mattress with each of his deep thrusts. You’re loud, grunting and mewling within minutes - he feels so good. He always feels so fucking good. You keep your eyes on him as he watches you, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your mouth, then down to your bouncing tits. He’s always loved them too. He cups your left breast with his metal hand, squeezing gently as he runs his tongue over his teeth. He leans down and sucks your tit into his mouth, swirling his tongue over your hard nipple.

He bites down and your hips jerk into his as you gasp, pushing him deeper. You yelp as the pain and the pleasure rip through you, making your toes curl and your fingers jab into him even harder.

“God,” you rasp, your face twisting with lust as he drills into you.

You shut your eyes again and you get a flash of her. His arm thrown over her shoulder, pulling her into his body. The smiles on their faces. His body crushed up against hers in front of his apartment building. You fling your eyes open, gasping a little as your mind starts to race. Don’t do this. Not now. Please. Just -

He probably fucked her just like this. Just how he’s fucking you right now. Your scent is gone from his sheets, his pillows, replaced by hers. You focus in on the ceiling as the intrusive thoughts pull you out of the moment.

Your lips part.

Your chin trembles.

----------

Bucky’s missed you. Your body, your noises, these perfect, pretty tits. He’s dreamt about this since the night he left your apartment - having you again. Making you scream. He pulls your breast into his mouth, sucking on you just how you like. He bites down and you buck into his cock, driving him deeper into your pussy and he shudders. You feel so goddamn good around him.

“God,” you rasp, your full voice hitting his eardrum just right, drawing a groan out of him.

He releases your nipple with a smack, leaning back up and resting his weight onto his palms that press into the mattress on either side of you. He feels your tight grip loosen, just a tad, your shrieks get quiet and then disappear all together. He sends his eyes back up to yours and his hips halt instantly.

You’re crying. Your small hands cover your face as your body is wracked with emotion. All of the air is sucked right out of the room. What’s worse, is that he doesn’t even have to ask why. He just knows. Bucky exhales as his own face twists at the sight. He pries at your hands, trying to pull them away from your face, “Baby,” he whispers, “Don’t. Don’t cry. Please, baby.”

He watches as you turn away from him, pressing your face into the pillow, still trying to hide, “Baby,” he tries again, his voice shaking, “Look at me.”

He pushes your head to face him, his own emotion choking up in his throat. He shakes his head, his breath getting shaky, his eyes filling with tears, “I’m sorry.” He whispers as his own tears start to fall, “I’m so sorry.”

He drops his forehead to yours and kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

I never meant to hurt you. Just say it. I never meant to hurt you, I love you.

Say it, Bucky.

Just say it.

“Stay with me, baby,” he whispers, wiping away the tears that streak down your cheeks, “Stay with me, stay here. Please.”

I love you.

Say it!

----------

Bucky kisses you hard, “Baby, I’m sorry.” He sobs, “I’m sorry, don’t cry. Please don’t cry, baby.”

You can’t help it. It’s just different now. He’s not - yours anymore. You have to share him with her. Your face is wet with your tears and his, your body crushed to his body as he holds you tight - so tight. He begs you not to cry, not to think about it, to stay with him, here, in this moment. You want to. You just want to feel good again. You want to feel like yourself because God knows this has been the most alien four months of your life.

You grab his face in your hands and kiss him, moaning into him as the sobs still wrack your body. You just want to feel good. You want to stay. I want to stay. You rock your hips into his, trying to coax him to move again. He does. He pushes his hips into yours as he kisses you again, his lips plump and salty and soft from the tears. You wrap your arms around his neck and close your eyes as he nuzzles into the side of your face, still murmuring his apologies.

His hips push harder and faster, like he wants to fuck the sad right out of you - and right out of himself. He keeps his face buried in your neck, his hands underneath you as he cries and you cry, your dull orgasm starting to gain steam. You push your fingers into his back as his muscles tense and flex. You cup his ass, squeezing his flesh as it bounces with his hips.

You feel his teeth on your skin, nipping and nibbling before he rests his forehead to yours again. His mouth hangs open, his hot breath washes over your face as his lips tremble softly. You slam your eyes closed and just give in - into him, into the emotions, into the sadness, into the moment.

You squeeze your legs around him and let it consume you. You come, hard, your body shaking, your toes curling, your breath hitching as it courses through your veins. You cry out, your wails filling the room as Bucky continues to slam into you until he too succumbs to the pressure. You feel his cock throbbing inside of you, jumping with each spurt of cum. He fills you up, up to the brim, stuffing you full of his seed.

He collapses on top of you, his sweaty skin sticking to yours. You run your fingers along his spine as his breathing calms and his body starts to relax. He stays tucked inside of you, his cock warm and still stiff. This was always your favorite part. Sure, the fuck was good, but this is what you crave. The closeness. The stillness of him. His skin pressed against yours, his weight holding you to the bed. The feeling of his heart beating against you.

I love you.

Say it.

----------

You didn’t say it.

You should have, but you didn’t.

You did say that you would meet him for dinner, so that the two of you could talk, really talk this time. You’re nervous, but you’re here. Despite not understanding why you wanted to come, MJ helped you get dressed, soothed your nerves. She told you to call her if you need her - I owe that metal armed asshole a punch in the mouth.

You tap your fingers against the table, biting the inside of your cheek, glancing around the restaurant as you wait. Your foot dances underneath the table with nerves. Why are you so nervous? You know him, you love him. You just need to say it. Just fucking say it and this will all be over. There’s no need to keep living like this when you don’t have to. You want him, you need him. You just need to tell him.

You nibble on a piece of bread. You check your phone again. He was supposed to be here. Twenty minutes ago, Bucky was supposed to be here. You wring your hands together harshly, pushing your thumb into your left palm over and over again. Your eyes dart around the restaurant and focus on the door.

He’ll be here. He’s just… running late, is all. He’ll - he’ll be here.

You check your phone again. No call. No text. He was supposed to be here, forty minutes ago. You close your eyes and rub your forehead, trying to push back the emotion that threatens to spill out. It didn’t mean anything. You whimper as the thoughts start to race around your head. Last week meant nothing to him - he used you. No. No, that’s - that’s not the Bucky you know. He wouldn’t do that to you. He wouldn’t, he’s just - Fury kept him late today, is all. He’s coming.

He is.

You push out into the night an hour and twenty seven minutes later, tears rolling down your face as you bring your phone to your ear, “MJ,” you sob, “He doesn’t love me anymore.”

“What?” You barely hear her, “What did he do? Where are you?”

“He doesn’t love me anymore.” You openly cry, “He never showed up. He doesn’t love me anymore, MJ.”

----------

“Bucky!” Steve shouts angrily, pushing through the front door of his friends apartment, your cries and MJ’s seething voice still ringing in his ears, “Goddamn it, what in the fuck do you think you’re -”

He stops in his tracks. His eyes skirt around the empty apartment as he stands perfectly still. Steve snaps his eyes towards the floor when a soft light illuminates from it. He moves towards it, bending to pick up Bucky’s phone. Five missed calls, two voicemails, one text message, all from you.

I fucking hate you. Don’t ever come near me again.

Steve’s eyes scan your message as his lips part. He glances towards the bathroom. The light is still on. He squints as he picks up on the sound of the water from the sink still running. His eyes fall on Bucky’s wallet that still sits on the nightstand before he eyes the phone in his hands again.

He turns on his heel and rushes out of the apartment, taking the stairs two by two, “Sam,” he says as soon as the sleepy man answers the phone, “Something isn’t right.”

----------

Bucky slams his head back in the cold, metal chair that he’s strapped down to. He pushes his arms against the clamps that hold him in place, but no matter how hard he tries, he can’t break free.

“Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.”

“Please don’t.” Bucky begs, tilting his head towards the ceiling, “Please don’t do this.”

“Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.”

Bucky screams as he starts to struggle, twisting and turning, bucking and fighting against the clamps around his wrists and stomach. He’s not strong enough. He can’t break them, “Please!” he screams, “Please don’t! Please!”

“Benign. Homecoming. One.”

He starts to sob. He slams his eyes closed as he tries to remember your face. Your smile. Your smell. Your soft skin against his. He should have told you he loved you. He should have begged you to let him come home. He should have never left you.

“I love you.” He says aloud, “I love you baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cries, the tears streaking down his cheeks, “Please don’t hate me.”

I love you!

“Freight car.”

Bucky blinks.

Tears still roll down his cheeks, but he isn’t actively crying anymore. He hears a pair of boots walking slowly around him, the soft thwump of a book closing as the mysterious man approaches his side.

“Soldat?”

“Я готов отвечить.”

Ready to comply.

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tumblingdowntheway2019 · 3 years ago

Text

Sleepless Nights, Part Two (2).

Hello my lovelies, how are we today?

💕🤗💕

As promised, here is part two (2) of Sleepless Nights. If you have not read the first part yet, I shall link it here.

WARNING: BELOW THE CUT, THIS POST WILL CONTAIN TRIGGERS, MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION/PTSD/PANIC ATTACKS/GORE, CHILD TRAUMA, TRAUMATIC EVENTS, ETC.

I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT WRITING THESE BUT EVEN THEN, IT IS BETTER TO WARN YOU JUST IN CASE.

Now then. Let's continue, shall we?

DONNA'S P.O.V (IN THE DREAM)

Unlike their parents, her sister did not hold a look of anger or malice. Instead, she stood there as radiant as ever.

It almost looked as if Bernadette had a soft glow around her as she gave of a radiant smile to Donna.

Almost as if a gentle breeze had blown, the entrance to the Beneviento Estate blew open.

Almost as if she were a statue, Bernadette did not react as all as she glides backward and through the doors. Her dress blowing gently in the unseen breeze.

Donna followed close behind as she called her sister's name, jumping down the steps and toward the path in front of her.

The faster the girl ran, the faster her sister seemed to have gotten as well.

As soon as she got to the outside elevator, Bernadette was gone. With no choice but to continue, Donna proceeds downward.

Halfway down the elevator shaft, a sudden scream was heard, scaring the girl as she tucked herself into the furthest corner and covering her head and ears.

A soft jolt indicated that it stopped, but Donna did not want to leave. She may have seen what was to come next before, but she was never prepared for what lies ahead.

She can't wake herself up. She desperately wanted to wake up. But she can't!

Another scream. Donna knew she has no choice in this nightmare and stood.

She saw the wooden doors that lead to the gardener's huts, then a suspension bridge and straight to Potter's Field and Garden.

The closer to the door Donna got, the clearer the sound of tearing flesh alongside the moans and groans got.

Pausing at the door, Donna took a different approach rather than go straight through the door. She wished she just ran past them.

The gravestone was no longer there. Instead, a massive clump of tumor lumps and tendrils with limbs stood in it's place.

The limbs and tendrils twitch violently with every gag the creature took. If it weren't for the torn pattern on the dress, Donna would not have know who that was.

A flock of crows appear and fused together to create a form of a woman. She wore dark robes, with black feathers and a golden bird head shaped mask.

"M-m-Mother Miranda....I-I-I did as you a-asked." It spoke.

"No.... Bernadette." Donna almost chokes out.

But she wasn't quiet enough.

Miranda shot her head up in Donna's direction, instantly spotting the young girl peaking through the letter box.

With a single finger, Mother Miranda pointed toward the girl as a silent order for the monster to pursue her.

Donna had no choice this time than to run back toward the elevator and upwards. The wooden door slamming open and the elevator began to ascend.

She bolts straight out and upward.

In a terrifying twist of fate or worse imagined scenario, her bloated and drowned father made his way out the basement and began stumbling towards her.

Her mother was fidgety in her movements, a stumble to the left here, a jolt forward immediately after it.

Donna made her way toward her right, up past many trees and up the path. Nearly and actually losing her footing over the tree roots and stones.

It felt like forever before Donna found herself at the top of the waterfall.

They say that if you get killed in your dream, then you would also die in the waking world too.

She turned to see all three (3) of her family member's grotesque form coming closer.

Taking a few steps back, Donna used the extra space to bolt off the edge of the cliff and fall toward the water below.

But halfway down, a huge murder of crows began to swarm around her. Swirling around her that she saw nothing but pitch black feathers.

A tight grip on her wrist startled her. Donna turned to look and saw Miranda, who's form was protruding from amongst the crows.

Extending her other arm, Donna saw the Cadou in Miranda's grip, placing it over her eye.

That's when she woke up, panting and sweating. It felt all to real.

She got up to go to the bathroom to change, hoping that the cool water will settle her racing thoughts.

As she soaked her face in water, a distinct growl was heard. She reluctantly looks at the mirror and saw ... Nothing but herself.

Her Cadou was completely flat now, nothing but it's shape remained. Along it's edges was where her older scar was barely visible. But her eye was now fused shut and no longer visible, but Donna didn't care now that the curse was gone.

Believing it to be the drain, she looked down to turn off the running water.

Before looking up again to Bernadette's Cadou mutilated form charging up into view!

LADY DIMITRISCU'S P.O.V

Lady Dimitrescu was now standing outside of her chambers, focusing on sharpening her hearing to get a better sense of where the whimper came from.

A few tense seconds go by, before she heard another one coming from her right. Or below her? She follows the noise.

Lady Dimitriscu strides downstairs, more worried than anything, but kept a calm demeanor upon her face.

She listens again when she had reached the row of chambers below hers. Another whimper was heard, echoing slightly, in the large bathroom located at the very end of the hallway.

And a very faint smell of blood.

With fear rising, The Lady of the Castle rushes toward the bathroom door and forces her way in, ready to attack whoever dared invade her castle and dare to try harm her daughters.

Instead she was met with a pitiful sight.

There, laying curled up in the corner of the room with her arms over her head and knees tucked in, was Donna.

The mother within Lady Dimitriscu took over as she rushes to the young woman, who refused to even leave the safety of the fetal position.

Alcina tried to coax her out of it, but Donna wouldn't budge. Instead she kept repeating, "My fault, it was my fault. They're right."

The mother held back tears as she gently placed a hand on Donna's shoulder. The latter having nearly scrambled back further into the wall.

She quickly realised it was Lady Dimitriscu.

The crouching 9ft 6 tall woman nearly fell back onto her back with the force the smaller woman jumped at her with.

She quickly embraced her back in assurance that everything was ok. She was there and she won't leave her down here alone.

The smell of blood was stronger now, causing the vampire lady to quickly examine the room. This was when she notices the broken mirror with thin blood trailing downward and along the cracks.

Motherly instincts took over as she gently pushed Donna back to get a better look at her.

It was heartbreaking, the poor woman breathing was hitching while trying to catch her breath.

Her white gown had splotches of red liquid on it, but mainly on the front and right sleeve.

Without another word, Lady Dimitriscu gently scoops the Doll Maker up, grabbing some cloths and another clean gown as she leaves the bathroom to take her back to her chambers.

Back in the chambers, the women were now sitting on the huge bed. Donna's injured hand was hovering over a cloth and basin of water as her adoptive mother gently removes the remaining shards of glass out of her hand.

Poor girl didn't even flinch. Just sat there, curled up with her head on her knees with her uninjured arm wrapped around them.

The wound now treated and bandaged, Lady Dimitriscu gently asked what happened.

It was here that tears were shed by the Lady, as Donna recounts her nightmares, a few hiccups and pausing in between to choke back tears

The part that finally had Lady Dimitriscu in tears now was when Donna admitted that there were many times she followed in her parents footsteps in their demise.

Many a times did she find herself of the waterfalls edge, looking into the the mist that hid the jagged rocks below.

Even after the events with Mother Miranda, she found herself there with what she thought was nothing to lose.

When she finished, Alcina took a moment to let it sink in. The fact that it had actually been going in for a MONTH was horrible and brought up a lot of guilt for not noticing sooner.

She quickly pulls the Doll Maker into a protective yet loving embrace that a mother can give. Apologising profusely for not noticing and the promise of always being there.

It was then Lady Dimitriscu clicked that a month ago, Donna had talked about her family and their demise. The poor girl had yet to actually accept that it happened and talking about it brought in the horrible guilt.

She felt the small hands grip onto her arm, it was... desperate? No, in fear of letting go.

It felt like forever before Donna looked up at her mother again, tears staining down her even more paler cheeks.

Once again, motherly instincts had The Lady gently wipe the away with her thumbs, as Donna leaned her head into the bigger hand. Which meant that thankfully, she was calmer now.

Alcina knew this meant that Donna will now be now submitting to her instincts to become mute and elusive again for a while. But it was ok, she will always stay nearby to assure her daughter that she is there when she is needed.

She finally let go of all her bottled up emotions, frustrations and fears that now meant that the path to recovery can finally begin.

Alcina noticed Donna's heavy eye closing and leaning into her hand more. She places the medical equipment and clothes onto the cabinet beside the bed, before positioning herself to lean against the pillows and pulling Donna into an embrace before turning off the oil lamp.

And so for the first time in a month, the Weaver finally had a peaceful slumber, wrapped up in the protective and loving embrace of the Dragon's wings.

____________________

As promised my lovelies, Part Two (2) of Sleepless Nights.

The reason behind this was to bring up awareness that just because someone who experienced traumatic events, mental illnesses or had thoughts of/attempted suicide, etc, may seem happy, that may very well may not be the case permanently.

Those sort of things will always lay dormant and all it takes is a simple trigger to bring about those thoughts all over again.

As was the case with Donna here.

But it may also effect those closest to you because the could end up feeling so guilty in not being able to help and not noticing. Even if it's just by listening.

As I had said before, I may not be the best writer, but I did want to bring some awareness about the dangers and effects of mental health.

Remember guys, you are not alone. Yes, the world ain't all dark clouds and rain, but it also ain't all sunshine and rainbows either. It's those little rays of sunshine that makes all the difference to one's day really.

There will always be one person who will be there to listen, as will I.

💕🤗💕 💪😎💕

There will be one more part to this, but it won't be called "Sleepless Nights". I'll get that out as soon as I can in the coming days.

If you wish to use the H.Cs for art, stories and such, always feel free to! All I ask in return is credit for the H.Cs and to be tagged to see it when it is done! 💕🤗💕

Love you guys and I hope you have a pleasant morning/afternoon/evening/night. 💪😎💕

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #donna beneviento #resident evil #video games #alcina dimitrescu #re8 headcanons #headcanon #awareness #mental heath awareness #family dynamic

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phantom-curve · 4 years ago

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find the strength, find the melody pt. 7

lmfao I love how I posted an update 2 days ago like “this fic will have sporadic posts! idk when they’re coming!” and then I spent the last two days writing this. when that insomnia inspiration hits ya gotta just go with it!

this chapter went in a completely different direction than I had planned on soooo yeah...honestly not sure where this is gonna end up! the characters from my OC novel that I’m loosely basing this story around didn’t have a connection before they ran into each other so when Julie gave me this I almost cut it because I genuinely wasn’t sure where it was going. I think I’ve almost figured it out and I’m pretty sure I know how this will end. and now we all get to laugh at me together because it’s definitely gonna be more than 3-4 chapters. it might even be more than 6. Luke’s POV will have roughly the same amount of chapters I think, possibly longer because boy oh boy does he have A LOT to say (most of it about Julie). fair warning: this one has an awkward cut off because of the way I need to set up the next chapter. sorry about that.

and now something I probably should be embarrassed to admit: I don’t remember writing the part where I managed to sneak an “I’ve Got The Music” reference in so now we know for sure this show has infiltrated my brain. it’s fine, I’m fine, at least I WILL BE WHEN WE GET A S2!!!! KENNY!!!! SAVE ME HERE!!! MAKE MY UNHINGED OBSESSIONS WORTH IT!!!!!

taglist: @blue-hat-girl, @lwhoscribbles, @bluefyoto94, @5sosmukefan, @moonlightxnder, @leahthewonder, @kat-maybe-not, @lukewearingbeanies, @imastrugglingartist

It was no small miracle that Julie made it through the afternoon without Ray asking for details about her supposed ‘plan’ to play with the Sunset Curve boys. She didn’t think she would have been able to pull off spinning a story quite as well as Luke had earlier. She had expected at least a small amount of interrogating about when she had started playing again, but apparently the news that she was playing at all, let alone with other people in front of an audience, was enough for Ray to ignore all of the other plot holes involved in this scheme. He seemed to have almost forgotten the meeting with Principal Lessa entirely, humming on the drive home, kissing her forehead and turning her loose to freak out alone in her room while he sat down to work on his computer in the dining room. Julie took full advantage of the time alone to restlessly pace her room and send Flynn a 911 text. Her bestie’s contact photo lit up the phone screen 30 seconds later.

“Okay, I’m hiding in the basement girl’s bathroom, so you’ve got exactly 5 minutes before I get too grossed out to stay here.”

Julie’s chest loosened at the sound of Flynn’s comforting voice. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that loved her the way Flynn did. It was reassuring and made it easy for Julie to let loose.

“Lessa told Dad about the music program and then You-Know-Who ambushed us outside of her office and basically forced me to agree to perform with them.”

“Voldemort was at Los Feliz?!”

Flynn’s gasp was overflowing with sarcasm.

“Flynn!” Julie whined. “Be serious! Luke showed up out of nowhere again! And he did the thing again! The charming his way into getting what he wants thing! And now I have to play with his freaking band! What the hell am I supposed to do?”

There was silence for a moment. When Flynn spoke again her voice was softer, more serious.

“You don’t have to play with them, Jules. You can tell them no, and they’ll have no choice but to respect that. The only person who can make you do anything is you. But...I kinda think you might want to play with them.”

“What?! No!”

Julie’s exclamation was a second late. Flynn didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Julie sighed.

“Okay fine. There’s something about Luke that makes me want to play again. Are you happy? He gave mom’s song back to me when I thought it was lost forever. He’s the only person who’s heard me perform it, and he...no one else has ever made me feel that good about my music before.”

Julie thanked her lucky stars Flynn wasn’t in the room to see her blush. There was a long moment of contemplative silence on the other end of the line. When she spoke again, there was that extra note of take-no-shit in Flynn’s voice that made Julie sit up and really listen.

“I think you should give it a chance. Who knows, maybe this is some sort of sign from your mom. You said it was a miracle he would have even found that song in the first place. You said it felt like she was there with you when you were playing. Maybe she made sure it would find its way back to you when you were ready for it.”

Julie didn’t say anything, just worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Her heart beat a little faster in her chest. It had felt a little too perfect to be just a coincidence. The way Luke kept appearing in her life at the exact moments she needed him someone or something to help her keep moving forward. Flynn sighed.

“Look, I’m not saying it is your mom. But I’m not saying there’s not some kind of greater power out there that keeps pushing the two of you together. I think you should give it a chance. If nothing else, you can get back in the music program and we can bring Double Trouble to life in time for our Junior Showcase!”

Julie couldn’t help laughing. Her eyes felt misty, love for her best friend welling up in her heart.

“I never agreed to that name you know. But thanks, Flynn. I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now. I gotta get the fuck out of this grimy ass bathroom. Love you, bye!”

Flynn waited for her to return the sentiment before hanging up. Julie flopped back on her bed, letting her breath out in a loud whoosh as she hit the comforter. A glance at her phone told her she only had a couple hours until Luke and the other boys would be out of school and on their way to her house. She tried her best to ignore the way that thought made her stomach roll with a type of nervousness she would rather not name. It was easier to blame it on nerves over playing with new people rather than nerves over playing with Luke. Except...now that she actually thought about it, she had played with Luke before. Her head spun, eyes fluttering shut as she remembered the one music class she had shared with Luke last year.

She had only been a freshman, stuck in a lowly Introduction to Composition class. It was supposed to be for new songwriters. Julie had a little more experience than the rest of the class, after all she’d been kind of composing with her mom for a few years now, so when it had been time to write a duet for their final big project she had gotten paired up with the classmate whose skill level most matched hers. It was supposed to be a way for them to challenge each other and grow as writers instead of one person doing most of the work. Julie had been paired with Luke.

He’d been a grumbly sophomore, held back for failing his last semester of Intro to Comp the year before. He had been stuck there only for the second semester, forced to double up between their class and his second year Composition class. Julie hadn’t been all that excited about partnering with him. He hadn’t really seemed to care about the class at all, and even though Julie also sometimes felt like it was holding her back a little bit, she never once voiced that thought. It was a privileged mindset, and Julie was well aware that she had an advantage over her classmates since her mother was a professional songwriter. Luke, on the other hand, had made it well known that he felt like he was wasting his time just waiting to get through the semester so he could move up to the Advanced Composition class that he felt he truly belonged in. Julie could usually do no more than roll her eyes in those moments.

It was true that Luke was talented. His guitar playing was impressive, his lyrics were heartfelt and sometimes even downright poetic. Julie just didn’t think anyone deserved specific things in life because they happened to be naturally talented at something. Their songwriting experience had been...interesting to say the least. And short. It had ended abruptly when Julie’s mother had died 5 days later. In the end, they’d only worked together for two 40-minute class periods before she had been lost in the fog of grief that consumed her in the weeks following the loss of her mom.

Julie shot up in bed, eyes wide. She didn’t even fully remember what had happened with the half-finished song they had been working on. Errant notes echoed in her head, like a song that had only existed in dreams until now. She absently wondered if Luke had held onto that as well. It was no wonder she had kept that particular memory suppressed all this time. That time in her life had been particularly painful. Luke had been gentle with her though. Almost all traces of his typical arrogance gone in the two short class periods they’d had to work together. He had kept things light, steering their songwriting in the direction of a rock ballad more than a true duet. Julie hadn’t minded. She had been floating through classes by then anyway, on edge every second she was away from her mom’s bedside. It had been easier to work on something that didn’t have as many sappy emotions attached to it.

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. No wonder Luke had been so sweet with her. He must have had a front row seat to her breakdown throughout the last year. She hadn’t even realized it. Had never before seen the way he watched her from a distance, checked in on her during class. She should have. Now that she was thinking about it, trying to identify every instance, she could name a million. How had she missed it for so long? How had he gone so long without saying anything? The Luke she remembered was terrible at keeping his mouth shut. He had always been ready to speak his mind, never afraid to start a discourse. It didn’t track that he had been holding himself back. Unless...it was more about her musical ability than anything else. She remembered now; Luke had been thrilled to partner with her for the duet. He had made some remark about how her sound was the perfect complement to his. Maybe he only cared about the ways they would mesh as songwriters. She could only hope that’s what his words had meant.

She felt more secure in her footing as a musician when it came to dealing with Luke than she ever had as a simple teenaged girl. If it was just about the music she could compartmentalize better, keep herself from getting too emotionally invested. Music had always been a safe zone, neutral. She breathed in and out deeply, remembering the technique Dr. Turner had taught her to slow her breathing and recenter her mind. She could do this. It was just about the music. They would play a song together, Julie would get back into the music program, and life would move forward much in the way it had before. Except Julie would actually participate in class this time. She had the music back in her soul, she wasn’t ever going to let it go again. On her next exhale, she heard the doorbell ring. Showtime. Julie zipped down the stairs, ripping open the door before her dad had a chance to get more than three feet away from his computer. Luke, Alex and Reggie all stumbled back a step as she tumbled outside, pulling the front door shut behind her. The three teenaged boys shared a look.

“Studio. Now.”

Julie raced down the path to her mom’s studio before they could react, not even waiting to see if they followed her. If they were smart, if they truly wanted to do this, they would. She hauled the garage doors open, only turning around when she had the piano at her back. The wood felt warm and solid, almost like she had her mom as a support behind her instead of an instrument. The boys appeared seconds later, Luke leading the way. He stopped a couple feet inside of the studio, studying her with wide open earnest eyes. She let out a deep breath. Reggie spoke up before she could get a word out.

“Woah, Julie, this studio is so cool! It’s like a tiny home! A musical tiny home in a botanical garden!!”

His green eyes were wide, expression awed as he spun to take in the space that Julie and her mom had spent countless hours turning into theirs.

“How did you get chairs on the ceiling?! Are you, like, a witch and a siren?!! Man, you and your mom must have made some serious magic in here.”

Luke’s arm shot out faster than lightening to backhand Reggie’s bicep. Reggie cringed away, a soft owww! just barely audible over the loud sigh Alex let out as he buried his face in his hands. Reggie shrugged, looking back and forth between his bandmates before giving Julie a confused yet apologetic glance. What had he said wrong this time? The giggle that bubbled out of her was as unexpected as it was welcomed. Warmth blazed in her heart, memories of the time she had spent in here with her mom washing over her with a kind of hazy bliss she hadn’t ever experienced before. She gazed at Reggie, letting that same feeling of motherly love from the night before fill her up. It was all she could do not to react to Luke’s jaw dropping when she gave Reggie a soft smile.

“We did. We made so much magic in here.”

The words were gentle and filled with a kind of genuine love that overshadowed all other feelings of awkward nervousness. Alex and Luke relaxed instantly, Reggie’s face losing all traces of uncertainty as he beamed at her with a smile so large it almost looked painful. Julie couldn’t help but let herself return it, just a little bit. The silence that settled between them was more comfortable, the tense moment from earlier broken. Julie studied the boys in front of her. She hadn’t ever thought of them as friends per se. They knew each other, would say hi if they encountered one another outside the walls of the high school, but at the same time, they didn’t actually know each other. Julie’s little run in with Luke the night before had made that painfully obvious. She wasn’t really sure what to make of them.

“Are you guys actually serious about this whole Showcase scheme? Did Luke even tell you about his dumb plan?”

“Hey! That plan is genius. Even your dad agreed. He seems pretty cool.”

Julie couldn’t help the fond way she rolled her eyes. Alex was quick to reassure her that they did, in fact, know about the plan.

“Not that I actually think it’s a particularly well thought out plan.” He stated with a lingering glare at Luke’s back.

The planner in question did his best to ignore the skeptical look on Julie’s face.

“Julie, you really don’t deserve to be out of the music program.” Reggie’s voice was soft and sincere. “You have the voice of an angel. If we can help convinced Ms. Harrison and Principal Lessa to give you your spot back it will be so worth it. And even if we don’t, it’ll be worth the looks on their faces when we rock the pants off that crowd!”

Julie laughed in spite of herself, slightly reassured even as she chewed nervously on her lip. Luke took a few bouncy steps forward, pulling her attention to him completely. His eyes locked on hers and she was sure she was drowning, throat tightening at the look he was giving her.

“You got this. I wouldn’t have come up with this idea if I didn’t believe it 100%.”

Honestly, that was what scared her the most about it.

“We don’t even have anything prepared.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, unsteady and wavering. Luke took a few more steps towards her, Reggie and Alex ghosting along silently a few feet behind him. Julie didn’t even notice, so laser focused on the brunette boy in the cut-up tank top in front of her. She watched his muscles flex as he reached into his back pocket, flicking out a piece of folded up paper in a move scarily reminiscent of when he had given her mom’s song back to her. He bit his lip, head ducking a little to be closer to hers as he unfolded the worn sheets of scrappy notebook paper. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, focusing on the messy handwriting in front of her.

“I thought you would say that.”

The smile on his face was so soft and sweet it should have been illegal.

“It’s called ‘Bright’. It’s a Sunset Curve song that we never performed because it’s missing something. Look,” his bare shoulder brushed hers as he shifted to point at the notes, warmth seeping through the thin material of her t-shirt, “it’s perfect for your range. I was thinking, if we add a little bit of piano here and here,” fire blazed a path up her arm as his fingers traced along the opening notes and chorus, forearm flexing against her own, bare skin brushing in teasing licks, “it’ll be perfect.”

Julie forced herself to focus on what he was saying, eyes roving across the paper. She hummed a little under her breath, hearing what he described in her head. His eyes lit up when he saw her get it, feet springing up and down as he dipped even closer towards her and started to sing.

We will rise, through the night

You and I

We will fight to shine together

Bright forever

His voice vibrated in her chest, the sound filling her with an emotion she couldn’t fully identify. Alex and Reggie bobbed along behind him, Reggie’s fingers plucking out the baseline on an invisible guitar while Alex nodded along to an unseen beat. Julie could envision the way the song would sound with a complete band, could practically see herself fitting seamlessly into the mix with her piano and vocals. She couldn’t help the smile that curved her lips as she joined in, reading the lyrics off of the page.

And rise through the night,

You and I

We will fight to shine together

“Go up high.”

Luke cut in, fingers twirling towards the ceiling. Julie automatically made the adjustment in notes to harmonize her voice with his for the last line, holding the final syllable for a beat longer than him.

Bright forever

“Yes!”

Luke’s arm pumped up and down, bicep flexing and distracting Julie momentarily. She dropped her head shyly, trying to hide her blush. When her cheeks cooled a moment later she looked back up at the boy in front of her. His eyes were glowing, smile stretched a mile wide as he stared at her. Unconditional belief in her was practically oozing from his pores. She felt her face soften as their eyes locked, giving him her own sweet smile that was meant just for the two of them. She thanked him with a gentle murmur, heart melting as he simply bit his lower lip and nodded.

A throat cleared in the background, and Julie was snapped out of their private bubble by the sound. Her entire face felt engulfed in flames as she looked over Luke’s shoulder to see Alex and Reggie still standing a few paces behind him. Reggie’s face was bright, his sunshine temperament back in full force. Alex was a little more guarded, but he was giving her an encouraging smile and there was cautious optimism swimming in his sage green eyes as he fiddled with one of his drumsticks. She inhaled deeply and let her breath out in one smooth exhale. The same sort of peacefulness from the night before settled over her.

“Okay. Okay, so we’re doing this.”

Luke’s whoop was so loud both her and Alex jumped. Reggie raced forward with a cheer to sling one arm around Luke’s shoulders and the other around Julie’s, pulling them so close to his chest that their noses nearly touched. Julie saw the blush staining Luke’s cheeks and felt her own warm to match. Alex coughed again.

“Reg, c’mon. Let it settle for just a sec before you go all human octopus on the poor girl.”

“Oh, right! Sorry, Jules!!”

Reggie released both of them quickly. Julie flicked her gaze between the three boys, enjoying the glimpses at their band dynamic. Alex’s words had sounded a bit exasperated, but there was a fondness running through them as well. He gave a half-hearted roll of his eyes at Reggie’s abrupt movements and reached his own long arm out to pull the dark-haired boy close.

“Help me unload the van? I still don’t trust our little Lukey boy with my kit.”

“Hey! That was one time!”

Luke sounded downright offended. The dark look Alex leveled at him in response had Julie choking back a laugh with a badly disguised cough. Clearly once of whatever he did was enough. Luke pouted, arms flexing as they crossed over his chest.

“You put your foot through my bass drum, and you think that isn’t reason enough not to trust you with it ever again?”

Luke sputtered, eyes flicking to Julie and back to Alex as his ears reddened.

“I told you I didn’t see it!”

“It’s the biggest part of the kit, dumbass. Literally the hardest thing to miss.”

Alex’s voice was as unimpressed as it was dismissive. Luke threw his hands in the air as the other boys headed out of the studio, laughing amongst themselves. It was clear this was a regular argument between the two, no heat or anger left in it, only a loving sort of tease. Like the way Carlos still brought up that time she accidentally gave him a concussion double-bouncing him off of their neighbor’s trampoline when he wanted something from her. Or the way her Tía would still laugh as she remembered the time her mom had almost gotten them both arrested for a bar fight on her 21st birthday, Ray affectionately filling in the parts that she tried to leave out. Warmth bloomed in her chest. This wasn’t just a band, wasn’t just a ragtag trio of friends. These guys were brothers. This was a family. And they were letting her into that intimate circle.

The thought was both humbling and nerve-wracking. This Showcase was a big deal. It wasn’t just some school assignment. This could impact their future as a band career-wise. They were all trusting her with this, fully believing in her, or at least, fully believing in Luke’s faith in her abilities. She wasn’t sure anyone had ever believed in her like that. Not anyone that hadn’t known her since she was in diapers. Her head swam, knees feeling a bit weak. She stumbled her way over to the couch, collapsing onto it with a barely audible huff. Luke was in front of her instantly, crouched down so they were face to face. His hands twitched in his lap, but he didn’t reach for her.

“Hey. Julie. Breathe.”

She sucked in a breath, zeroing in on nothing more than his face. After a few seconds she realized he was breathing in and out slowly, just loud enough for her to hear over the jumble of thoughts running amok in her brain. She matched her own inhales and exhales to his, the room slowly coming back into focus as her head cleared. He gave her one of those soft smiles she was starting to think of as hers.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I wouldn’t have stopped you in school if I didn’t think you were gonna rock it. I heard you last night. I listened to you for years before last night.”

His chin dropped in embarrassment for just a second before he pulled his gaze back up to hers. Julie felt like she was on the edge of a cliff. Not for the first time she wished she knew how long this version of Luke had been lurking under the surface. It took everything in her not to let herself step off that ledge and fall.

“Music is in your soul. It’s a part of you. Not everyone is like that, but you are. Your life without music...”

He tapered off like the thought was physically painful to him, eyebrows furrowing in a slight wince.

“Living without music would be like living in a world without stars: dark and empty and uninspired. You deserve galaxies, Julie. You deserve the chance to shine exactly like the star you are, and the world deserves the chance to hear you. Please, just...have a little faith?”

She saw it then. As he gazed at her with those bottomless ocean eyes, with that special smile on his lips and sincerity bleeding through every word, she knew. Luke was like her. Luke got it. In a way that no one else except her mom ever had. That’s what this was. They were kindred spirits, two sides of the same coin. And that feeling? The wind rushing through her hair and stealing her breath away while her limbs all turned to jelly feeling? That was definitely her falling head over heels off of the cliff and into Luke Patterson completely.

“Okay.”

She breathed out, and his answering smile set off the butterflies she thought had finally left her stomach. He stood up and held a hand out to her, easily pulling her to her feet in one smooth movement.

“You know,” his smile turned rueful, “eventually you’re gonna have to answer one of my questions with something other than ‘okay’. That’s a pretty passive word, and I’m not really a passive type of person. I wanna start hearing some ‘hell yeah’s and ‘awesome’s pretty soon.”

Julie rolled her eyes, moving away from Luke to set up her keyboard. He gave her a bouncy little shrug of his shoulders, and she let the levity of his joke wash over her, releasing the last bit of nerves. She could do this. Luke believed in her. Her mom believed in her. Hell, Alex and Reggie believed in her and she barely even knew them. She could do this, just like her mom had said.

Noise from the other boys making their way up the driveway had her rushing to pull both doors to the studio open so they could haul in Alex’s drum kit. The three of them left together to grab amps and guitars, Julie finishing the rest of the set up in the garage. Before she had time to overthink things or freak out again, they were all settled into their spots and Alex was counting down for their first run through. Fingers against the keys, Julie breathed out, opened her mouth, and began to play.

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dawniebb · 4 years ago

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Face reveal bc yes

So, guys...especially from the Renegades fandom bc i’m the most active there: you saw the title lmao. This will...barely get notes (i wonder if it’ll get notes at all) buuUUUT YEAH LET’S GOOOO (If you’re gonna reblog pls be respectful bc i have issues and btw reblog ONLY if we are mutuals)

THIS IS ME! <3 HELLOOOO!!!

Now, if you want to stop here, do it. If you don’t...well

I’m going to tell you a story about myself and why I decided to post this.

First of all, I’m not celebrating anything. I’m just celebrating me, I guess (?) and in fact I’ve been wanting to do this since my parents got me a She-Ra cake for my 20th birthday back in May, because I loved that thing and felt the physical need to shove that thing into everyone’s faces But I didn’t because I didn’t feel ready enough...then that thought left my mind, and it came back like two weeks ago.

I’ve had mental issues since I was in like...elementary school. I’m sure I had felt depressed before I turned 12; however, the first memory I hold of feeling so, it’s when I was already 12. Because it was then when I realized that I wasn’t just a dumb kid who didn’t know how to make friends xd To this day, I genuinely feel like I was suffering from isolation bullying; you know xd my classmates purposely excluded me from activities, they would find any excuse for not letting me join their work teams and stuff like that; during my last year at elementary school, I only had like one friend, and that one friend and I shared a sort of abusive/toxic relationship, as in: manipulation, “we’re best friends. you should only talk to ME”, and then this friend turned her back at me too, because she decided to join the rest of the group and ignore me.

lol.

And I remember wondering what was I doing wrong. Like, why didn’t people like me; why didn’t they want to hang out with me; why did everyone seem to have friends except me. And then I got trapped into a very...dark place, and I remember being overthinking one day, because I tend to overthink a lot...and I remembered this specific kid who was in the same class as me.

I was in the line for the teacher to check my homework, and this kid, a boy, was behind me.

You see. I’ve always been chubby xd I don’t think I’ve ever been skinny since I was 2 years old or so, because by the time I was in kindergarten my classmates’ moms were already calling me a ‘little meatball’ thinking it was a fucking adorable nickname because Mexican moms can be pretty shitty sometimes don’t let the media stereotypes fool you not all of them are all cheerful and upbeat and when I was in elementary school, for some reason, besides being chubby, I had a really bad posture. And this boy who was behind me started imitating my way of walking and his friends were laughing, so I turned around and asked him wtf his problem was xd and he turned around to his friends and asked “Do you see how hunchback she is?” like I wasn’t even there xd and I genuinely tried to slap him but I couldn’t, and he said “Yo, stop moving because you’re going to cause an earthquake”

And my mom has always felt personally attacked for the fact I’m...u know, fat. She has always been very insistent on the fact I need to lose weight and stuff like that. And her, mixed with my experiences at school, made me feel like I wasn’t enough.

But my mind started saying things like “And u know why you aren’t enough? Because you’re fat”

Because, like, the day of the hunchback insult, when I told the teacher, who was a very shitty teacher btw but i’m not talking about her again today (i’ve already talked about her in MANY of my university papers, because I’m studying to be an English teacher), she turned around at him and said “Don’t listen to HER” and to this day I still don’t know why xd

But it made me feel like I wasn’t enough. Because I was fat.

Lol x2.

To this day, I still don’t know if I have an ED. Like, I genuinely don’t know. But I can safely say that, if I have one, it’s more likely BED... because, through the years, I managed to lose weight when I turned like 15 and I had my quinceañera party, but then first year of high school came and I had a relapse into depression...like, this might come off as a very unpopular opinion, but junior high school was dope for me x’d I remember it as one of the best years in my life, right after my second and third year in high school (high school in Mexico lasts only three years) and so...when I started my first year in high school and got fucking depressed again, I gained ALL that weight back, and even doubled it. During my second year of high school, I met my friends. The friends I still keep with me to this day. And they accepted me like the fucking train wreck I was, failing math like three times in a row and crying about it every single one of those times because I’m pretty sure I have dyscalculia but my parents won’t listen to me they think i’m just lazy when it comes to math even though they know i cant even read a fucking clock . And them, along with my another very close friend who I met via fanfction when I was 12, helped me go through it. Like, I did have some issues with my body during high school, but not as much as you would expect. They were getting pretty bad in my first and second semester, but during the other four my friends managed to stop me from losing my mind, even when it all went to shit in my third year again for different reasons.

Then I graduated from high school, and I made friends there too. Although my best friends are still my friend from fanfiction, my friends from high school and just one of my university friends. And you know...I was left...pretty scarred from the shit that happened during third year of high school, and even if I didn’t feel like I was *that* depressed, I did gain a lot of weight.

Like, the highest I’ve ever been. Then my dad got sick during October from last year, then my two doggies were murdered god i fucking hate my neighbors the same day my dad was released from the hospital and my mom went kinda nuts during December and I wanted to just...yeah.

So I did a lot of emotional eating. Like, y’all don’t understand.

It was like...I would go to uni and eat a brownie. Then chocolates on my way home. THEN a “a snack” like...fucking rice krispies. Then a huge ass meal, with soda bc why not. Then I would have either cookies or hot cheetos as a treat after my huge ass meal,

I’m a short person xd carrying that much weight was making my ribs and back hurt, as well as my legs and feet; my breathing was freaking awful, and there were some days were I got SO paranoid I just said things like “i’m gonna die today” or “out here trying to get diabetes like the rest of your family, aren’t you??” :’) but i didn’t tell anybody. My parents are not really an option in this case, BUT I didn’t tell my friends, because then I would have to explain that I ate a lot and that was something I was EXTREMELY ashamed of.

When February came, I was scared of going out, because I knew I would have to choose what clothes to wear and nothing fit me anymore and, the things that did, looked super stretched on me and, u know, I was sore. My health was getting bad. But I didn’t like to feel that way.

AND I MUST CLARIFY HERE. I’M WORKING ON THAT. I’M ACTUALLY A BODY POSITIVY DEFENDER, I JUST DIDN’T LIKE HOW *I* LOOKED AND, BESIDES, I WAS GETTING SICK. I GENUINELY THOUGHT I WAS GOING TO DIE AT SOME POINT. I’M NOT SAYING BEING FAT OR CHUBBY IS DISGUSTING. NO. I BELIEVE ALL HUMAN BEINGS ARE EXTREMELY BEAUTIFUL. AND IF I’M WRITING THIS IS BECAUSE I WANT YOU TO KNOW RECOVERY IS DISGUSTING AND DIFFICULT SOMETIMES AND THAT IF YOU’RE GOING THROUGH SOMETHING LIKE THAT: I’M SORRY. NOBODY SHOULD EVER FEEL LIKE THAT. I SUPPORT YOU. AND I HOPE THINGS GET BETTER. AND NO MATTER WHAT OTHERS SAY, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE TO CHANGE ONLY IF YOU WANT TO CHANGE. BECAUSE IT’S YOUR BODY. KEEP HOLDING ON.

But going back to the story...

My friends used to tell me I looked pretty all the time, which I appreciate a lot to this day. But my parents were like

Me: I’m fat and I look deformed.

Them: I agree.

Because yeah.

Just before the pandemic madness happened, I went on a school trip with my uni friends and one of them triggered my isolation trauma in the worst way possible...and that, somehow, ruined ALL the photos I took throughout the trip. Because I wasn’t enough. Because I was deformed and fat and I looked like an apple. Because nobody wanted to be seen near me. And my personality was shitty.

Like, I should’ve known I was worth it. I’m still worth it and I know that. But I wasn’t less worth it when I was chubbier. And maybe I didn’t look as bad as my head made me believe. But at the time my mental health was extremely awful.

Now, covid happened.

Not gonna lie. Quarantine fucked me up as much as it fucked everyone else, but for me...by not going out, I stopped being near trigger foods, and I was even able to consult a dietitian.

I’ve lost 15 kg since March. And I’ve managed to love my past self, but I love this one because changing it was my decision. Sure, my parents didn’t help a lot, but in the end it was MY decision. I’ve come to accept I was worth it even when I felt disgusted by myself, and all of those awful things people said or did to me, like my friend during that trip...

I didn’t deserve any of those things. Because NO ONE deserves to be treated that way. No one deserves somebody else making fun of them. No one deserves somebody else doing awful things to them that they know damn well that they trigger their childhood trauma. No one deserves to be judged for the way they look.

I was in a very dark place, and sometimes I’m still inside there. And like...during all those times, I kept posting in here.

I remember being next to my dad in the hospital, telling him “Guess what? Supernova drops this week” or “We’re going to watch TDP together, right?” or “Let me talk to you about She-Ra...” ....those were things that like...saved my life for a while, though mostly Supernova. Because, actually, Marissa Meyer has helped me in my fucking darkest years x’d from my third year of high school until now.

Her books didn’t take my depression away, but they did make things a little lighter for me, even when I felt like dying.

And I know this fandom is like..full of minors, so...I don’t know if any of you need to hear this: But you’re worth it.

If you want to change anything in your body, do it because YOU want to.

Because YOU’LL like you better.

Because it’s YOUR body, and it’s the only part of yourself that you and other people can touch.

Nobody should ever tell you you’re worthless because of your weight and your physical appearance. And if they ever do, then they’re the ones who should apologize, not you.

Nobody has the right to mistreat you, abuse you, or use your own body against you.

As for me...my ribs don’t hurt anymore. Nor does my back or my feet, and my breathing is getting better; I took the conscious decision to lose weight but, like I said, now that I’m not in such a dark place, I’m staring to realize that the past me wasn’t as hideous as my mind was making me believe. She was okay; she was broken inside, but she didn’t deserve anything that happened to her, nor did she deserved to treat herself that badly.

I posted my photo just to celebrate that I can finally said I’m not disgusted anymore. I can finally see myself in pictures again. And see my own reflection. Or go through my closet. Or do my makeup, because I LOVE doing my makeup and I was even ashamed of that. I’m not fully okay yet, but I’m healing.

So, if there’s any little Dawnie around here: I hope you give yourself a chance and realize you’re beautiful.

I hope that, if you change, it’s because you wanted to do it.

I hope you know that it’ll get better even if the healing process it’s not that easy.

I hope you know there’s people who love you.

I hope you know that you are beautiful. You were always beautiful and, no matter what path you choose, you’ll always be beautiful.

And worth it.

And human.

And important.

Take care of yourself, because you’re wonderful, no matter your size <3

#personal #VERY PERSONAL LMAO DAWN WHAT HAPPENED THERE U OK?#tw: eating disorders mention #TRIGGER WARNING EATING DISORDER MENTIONS #tw: depression #TRIGGER WARNING DEPRESSION #face reveal #and im gonna tag this bc yes #renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #renegades #archenemies #supernova #also TW: BULLYING

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makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 268: Please Don’t Tap on the Glass

Previously on BnHA: Dabi revealed his true identity to Hawks! His real name is actually [sound of semi truck horns blaring]. What’s that? You didn’t hear me? I said it’s [sound of dolphins chattering]. You really need to listen better. Anyway, so Dabi set Hawks on fire a bunch of times, and Hawks had some flashbacks indicating that Endeavor saved him when he was a small child, and just when it was starting to look like we might get our second tragic death chapter in a row, Tokoyami showed up to defend his mentor! Meanwhile in Jakku, Miruko remembered that even though kicking ass is fun and she’s really good at it, she still had a job to do, so she sped off toward Ujiko’s little hideaway, getting stabbed and impaled a bunch of times along the way and losing an ear and shit (I very much look forward to the cyberpunk robot-limbed Miruko 2.0 that we had better fucking get once this arc is over). Fortunately Endeavor showed up to help her out! Anyway, so absolutely no one was talking about this last week, but the chapter totally ended with Miruko about to bust open Tomura’s bacta tank with a badass roundhouse kick, so, uh. Shit might be about to go down you guys.

Today on BnHA: Shit does indeed go down, but at a very languid pace. Ujiko apparently built Tomura’s holding tank out of Nokia phones and kevlar, so even though Miruko gets a few good kicks in, she ultimately doesn’t do more than just crack it. So now the tank is just standing there leaking ominously while Ujiko sobs for no reason and we all ponder whether or not a 75%-charged Tomura will be any less doom-harbinging than the full-fledged deal. In the meantime we’ve got Girl Noumu thinking strategic thoughts and chucking acid at peeps; Crust still doing absolutely nothing; Endeavor not doing that much better to be honest; and Mic and Aizawa ready and raring to go kill the old man who turned their dead buddy into a sentient Einstein-Rosen bridge. Obviously I’m all in favor of this last bit, but I’m also on team “Mic and Aizawa not dying horribly” though, so. I do have some concerns here.

full disclosure, I’m very sleep-deprived for various reasons related to various things which can be broadly summed up as Just 2020 In General. so anyway, I’m dealing with it, but I’ve noticed that my rate of typos and errors and such has shot waaaaay up in this past week or so, so I’m just putting that out there that you may find some weird shit in this post! maybe I will write the same sentence maybe I will write the same sentence multiple times, or or the same word twice in a row by mistake, or use the completely wrong word. you are more than welcome to point this out and I will not take any offense and will indeed be grateful because I’ve apparently gone blind to it all! anyway so how are you I hope everyone is well

anyway! the chapter is early (god for all I know it’s been out for hours already. HOW FAR BEHIND AM I) so I’m recapping it early so that I will have more time to play Animal Crossing and fish and craft all of my troubles away. speaking of which Horikoshi, you had better not bring me any troubles this week, I am not in the mood do you hear

good fucking lord

is all of that Miruko’s blood??!? god, she’s even better at bleeding than everyone else. now hold up all you excited vampires, you all can get in line, I was here first

by the way Endeavor, I gave you a pass last week because your entrance was so fucking raw and you saved my girl’s life and that was really neat my man. but now that I’ve recovered from my shock and awe and am ready to be sarcastic once more, I just want to say... welcome to the party, guy. did you stop for drive-thru on your commute from the other side of the planet. were you simply not immune to the bizarre 5th dimensional time-stands-still effects of March 2020. are you curious at all how your son has changed during these past 20 years, and by “son” I am referring not to Dabi, but Shouto. are you looking forward to meeting all of Shouto’s children. are you excited to be a granddad. anyway thank you so fucking much for finally making your way down to this lair with all the speed and haste of a federal appeals process

and I see Crust is still fighting this guy after six decades

(ETA: I would be more upset about the scan quality here, but let’s face it, nobody actually cares about seeing this in HD. I’m sorry Crust.)

and we’re really expected to believe this is the very next ranked hero below Miruko. could it be that the hero ranking system is actually flawed. don’t tell me. I’m just as shocked as you are

seriously??

are we really going to stop and chat with Geriatric Hero: Crust over here. really. far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, Number One. but I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure he does still have... let’s just check... one... two... yep, two arms. not that I’m saying your system for prioritizing which of your fellow heroes to help out should be based off of the number of arms they have. but also I am saying that

OH SONNY BOY

is that a two-page panel of Aizawa Hatake Kakashi Shouta and his loyal husband Screaming Man leaping into the fray to take on some high end Noumus with their bad and sexy selves. I think that’s exactly what it is. are we blessed or are we blessed. Aizawa I’m pleased to see you haven’t aged a day and are looking just as fine as ever in this the year 2045

oh wow Endeavor I thought you had incinerated it

why wouldn’t you incinerate it. please incinerate it. did you not learn your lesson. please don’t start taking your cues from Dilly Dally Hero: Crust over here

oh wow

and yet Miruko was kicking all of their asses like they were made of plywood. really though guys. only number five. okay

Aizawa’s shouting that he wasn’t able to erase that last Noumu who was impaling Miruko because his vision was obstructed. that’s okay Aizawa, that’s why Endeavor is hopefully about to incinerate him

oh snap here we go

again, one has to wonder what kinds of interactions with rabbits Horikoshi has had in his troubled young life so as to influence his writing of Miruko’s quirk in such a way. did you at some point get rabbits confused with... I don’t even know. polar bears?! not that I’m fucking complaining holy shit

anyway, so just a friendly reminder that if Miruko dies here I will in fact push the button which triggers the hidden ejector seat built into Horikoshi’s office chair. he will be missed. but he had a good run

ho lyyyyyyy shit

so... Miruko I love you but... then why would you break the fucking vat apart with your moon-powered legs. Miruko. Miruko are you listening. oh shit she’s missing an ear I forgot. oh shit. oh shit

MIRUKO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BUT WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU JUST KICK THE BALD MAN IN THE LAB COAT INSTEAD goddammit well it’s been nice knowing y’all

well then. so this is happening. this is really happening. at least she saved us all from having to face the 100%-charged world-ending Tomura somewhere down the line. instead all we have to do is face the 74%-charged Tomura right fucking now. so that’s. ...I wonder how Tokoyami is doing

holy shit!

leave it to Girl Noumu to be the smart one. for a minute I thought maybe Ujiko had given her Ragdoll’s long-lost quirk. but then I realized that this isn’t a quirk at all, this is just her being smart and using her Big Noumu Brain. anyway so I’m preemptively sorry for having to root against you, Girl Noumu

so now she’s pondering how to disable Aizawa’s quirk. meanwhile I just remembered that we haven’t seen her quirk yet I think. please let it be something good

oh snap she ran away and made it out of Aizawa’s sight range oh fuck

the fuck is up with this thicc fucking Girl Noumu page I can’t tell wtf is going on

LOL OH SHIT

NOT TO WORRY GUYS SHE’S JUST SHOOTING BIG GIANT GLOBS OF ACID AT EVERYONE. can anyone tell if Endeavor has incinerated this Noumu yet down in the middle panel on the left. what is the fucking holdup

and now there’s a big double page of Miruko shattering Tomura’s Noumu Vat, and I can’t quite tell, but it looks like her eyes might be rolling back in a way which I decidedly do not like

(ETA: nah on closer inspection we’re good.)

didn’t she just do this like four pages ago. and how the hell did Tomura suddenly jump from 74% to 75% in like .2 seconds

oh thank god she’s still awake. but now she’s being dragged back now by the Noumu’s bone appendage things because Endeavor SERIOUSLY CANNOT GET HIS FUCKING ACT TOGETHER LONG ENOUGH TO FUCKING LIGHT ITS BRAIN TO ASHES ALREADY, LIKE SERIOUSLY THOUGH. WHAT HAPPENED TO ALL OF THAT TALK ABOUT THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING FAST AND THE DIFFERENCE A SPLIT SECOND MAKES

Miruko if we make it out of this alive, I’m promoting you to number one. Fatgum will be number two. the only two pro heroes in this arc who have actually impressed me at all. shame on the rest of you. shame

so now somehow or some way Miruko is being flung into Endeavor at the speed of light

I don’t understand this at all. did the Noumu retract those bone whips back into its body superfast while dragging Miruko back with them and somehow it managed to avoid being hit by her projectile body but Endeavor took the impact straight on. this doesn’t make any kind of sense to me with my admittedly rudimentary understanding of physics. but then again it is a fucking manga so I’m not about to call NASA and ask them if this could really happen. so this was a waste of a paragraph I guess!! my bad!!

swear to god this is like the fifth panel of Ujiko just screaming. please just stop. what do you have to be worried about anyway? although if Tomura suddenly went crazy upon awakening and just straight up killed you for no reason, that sure would be delightful! that wouldn’t happen, though. or would it

WHAT IS THIS FUCKING FISH TANK MADE OF

IS THIS A TUBE OF GLASS OR A FUCKING FALLOUT SHELTER

ENDEAVOR I’M GLAD YOU’RE CONCERNED ABOUT MIRUKO BECAUSE I AM TOO, AND ALSO IT’S ALWAYS NICE TO SEE THAT YOU DO HAVE A HEART, BUT ALSO MAYBE JUST LEAVE HER FOR NOW THOUGH, SERIOUSLY??

though on the other hand it’s already too late to stop this inevitable tide, so maybe at this point they should all just get the fuck out of there instead. at least Miruko did her fucking job and saved you all from having to face the invincible unstoppable version. that’ll be a real comfort to everyone when he’s out laying waste to the countryside, I’m sure. but still

-- oh no

the boys heard that. listen you guys, I want Ujiko to die as much as anyone, but I’m gonna need you to not go anywhere near Shigaraki fucking Tomura now or ever. please. do you hear me?? you two still have both of your ears goddammit I want some acknowledgement

-- NO!!!

(ETA: is that. a fucking Tomura dialogue bubble. something stirs in the east. a sleepless malice. the eyes of the enemy are moving.)

THE MANGA GIVETH AND THE MANGA TAKETH AWAY nooooo from 20 pages last week back down to the usual 17. I got spoiled. I expected too much. sob

so now we settle in to wait two weeks to see if Mic’s piercing tones can shatter this fucking adamantium tank like a wine glass. I’m not sure I’m ready for the Noumuraki Tomuracalpse you guys. then again by this point I’m braced for just about anything though so bring it

#bnha 268 #miruko #mirko #I finally caved and did it both ways #endeavor #aizawa shouta #present mic #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste spoiler recap #makeste reads bnha #happy easter everyone #don't mention it to horikoshi though #he's terrified of rabbits as we all know #they are vicious and unstoppable #so please treat them with respect

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

Text

You & Me : chapter 44

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.5k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: okayyy so here it is. time passes quicker, and youll see itll be like that in the last few chapters too. i hope you like this one, i hope youll like the last few chapters. im a bit nervous so i hope it’s not too bad! oh yea and i used a manip someone made on instagram, just thought it was cool haha!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : some requests i used here but ill only post them in the next chapter because i don’t want to spoil anything!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 44 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

August 9th, 2018

That was it. We were done with an other season and I couldn't believe what we accomplished. What I accomplished. We had filmed the last scene two days ago, right on time for me to go see Niall perform in LA two nights in a row and the party organised to celebrate the end of this season was scheduled on the first night of his week off. Everything seemed to fit perfectly together and I was happy. I was genuinely and truly happy.

"Did I tell you how much I missed you?" I heard my boyfriend whisper near my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, making a shiver cross my whole body.

"Mm yes, about a million times in the past 3 days." I replied with a chuckle, tilting my head as he pressed his lips gently on my neck.

I had missed him so much too. We had spent over a month apart and just like I expected, we were even stronger than we were before and that said a lot. We had talked every single day on facetime but it was never the same than to be able to smell him, feel him, taste him... just seeing him face to face was different than on a screen and I had no idea how i'd be able to spend an other 5 weeks separated from him.

"Okay then, did I tell you how good you look tonight?"

I laughed again and turned around in his arms, tilting my chin up to look in his eyes. We were a bit farther from the others, slightly hiding by a part of the wall, and i licked my lips, hoping no one was paying attention to us.

"I'm literally wearing an old pair of jeans that shows how big my ass is and a plain t-shirt." I pointed out. "But thank you."

As if it was a suitable answer, his hands slid from my back to my butt and he squeezed it, making me laugh again.

"I love your ass."

"And in public too?" I asked with an amused smile, my eyebrows raised. "Are you drunk?"

He chuckled and bent down to kiss my lips and i let him, feeling his warm mouth move gently and slowly against mine. No matter how many times we kissed, it always felt amazing, and no one else tasted that good.

"We should go back to the others." I pointed out in a low voice. "They're gonna start wondering where we are."

"Mm, I don't care." he whispered against my lips, making me chuckle low.

"Come on." I just replied, finally taking a step back and tilting my head on the side. "We can cuddle tonight."

We walked back in the room hand in hand and I noticed Dylan looking at us. He sent me a small smile that I answered as I tried to ignore Heidi, sitting next to him. They had been dating for longer than I thought they would and I was wondering if he still thought everything he had told me about her the last time we discussed it. I really thought it was a good thing for him to be with someone else, I just thought it sucked that she was the one he had picked. Still, it was none of my business and I couldn't stop him from inviting her to this party. After all, it was his tv show too, and I owed him a lot. I was well aware that it was more popular because he was the male lead and I knew how lucky I was to act with him.

As soon as we sat down, Heidi and Dylan got up but she left to the other side of the room and he walked to us, sitting in front of my boyfriend. I didn't know if this was about to be awkward but before we could say anything, I heard my phone and frowned. I grabbed it quickly and excused myself, knowing it was even more awkward that I left my boyfriend and my ex boyfriend together.

"Hey Louis, you're calling at a very weird moment." I just said with a smile.

"That's me specialty, love." he let out as a joke, making me chuckle. "You mom tried to call you apparently, but she couldn't reach you so she called my phone. Sweet sweet lady with an incredibly strong accent. It always surprises me."

I rolled my eyes but a smile still drew itself on my lips. "What did she want?"

"She said it was not urgent but she wanted to talk to you, make sure you're not dead or something."

I raised my nose up. "Don't joke with that."

"Sorry love, I didn't mean to bring back... that memory." he apologized after a few seconds of silence. "She doesn't know though, does she?"

"No, only you, me, Niall, and I'm guessing El?"

"Olivia, I didn't tell that to anyone, not even El." Louis admitted, making me smile fondly. "This is no one's business but yours. I promise to keep that secret forever."

"Thank you, Lou." I whispered before swallowing.

I hated to remember that moment of weakness I had, even if I knew it was part of why I was who and where I was today. I really had to hit rock bottom to kick myself up and finally breathe again. If my relationship with Niall was so strong now, it was partly because I had worked on myself and although I knew I still had work to do, I was stronger than I used to be when I first dated Niall. Of course, swallowing all the pills I could find was not my smartest or strongest moment but I was trying to forgive myself.

"Oh you want to hug me right now don't you?" Louis joked, making me laugh through my tears. "I know you!"

I laughed and wipe my eyes quickly before licking my lips. "Yea, I drank a bit too so it doesn't help. I'll text you soon, Lou."

"You better. Love you, queen."

I smiled fondly at the nickname and closed my eyes. "Love you too."

I hung up and texted my mom quickly before going back to the table. Dylan was now sitting next to Niall and it made me frown. I knew they were both a bit tipsy and I didn't want anything bad to happen between them. Gladly, I knew Niall was not into confrontation and Dylan was quite laid-back too. Plus, he was probably over me by then and if they could just accept each other's company, it would be enough for me. I didn't expect them to become close friends, of course, but It would be nice if it wasn't awkward between them anymore.

"Oh and that small.. whimper or whisper she makes when you slip your hand in her panties." I heard Niall comment before Dylan chuckled.

"Right." he agreed, shaking his head gently. "And she's always so ready too."

A tiny part of me wanted to stay and listen to what they were going to say but the part of me that was angry was definitely bigger. I took a step closer but held my breath when Dylan started talking again.

"Let's say it's different than Heidi."

"No man, I ain't going there." Niall laughed while shaking his head before taking a sip of his beer.

"No, I mean, Heidi is very sexy but it's that... that connection, you know?" I frowned and my lips parted when Niall laughed again.

"I don't want to hear about the 'connection' you had with my girlfriend, O'Brien." he pointed out, turning his almost empty beer with his fingers.

"No yea, I know. I just mean that... it's different when you love someone."

"Are you two really comparing how Heidi and I are in bed?"

Both of them jumped so high I thought they were about to fall off their chairs. I wanted to look at their reaction but I decided to focus on my boyfriend and when he turned around, his face changed and I could read fear in his eyes. I crossed my arms on my chest and shook my head, licking my lips.

"That's fucking disgusting. I don't deserve that, and Heidi doesn't either."

This time, I read surprise in Niall's eyes and glanced at Dylan who seemed as shocked as my boyfriend. Oh I still didn't like Heidi, but that didn't mean it was okay for them to discuss about how she was in bed.

"Just because both of you had the chance to fuck us both doesn't give you the right to share gossips about us." I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my anger inside and breathed in deeply. "That's fucking wrong."

I turned on my heels and left before I stopped and turned around again to look at them. "I'm mad at you both, by the way, if that wasn't clear enough."

I walked quickly to my dressing room and closed the door before holding myself against the counter, closing my eyes. I was torn between being mad that they could easily talk about me like that and being relieved that they could actually talk to each other without it being awkward. After a few minutes, I heard a knock at the door and thinking it was probably one of them, I swung the door open but my face changed when I noticed my assistant. My lips curled and I raised my eyebrows a bit surprised.

"You left quickly, are you okay?" she asked, concern written all over her face.

I made a quick head movement to incite her to walk in and closed the door behind her before we both sat down, her on the couch and me on a chair. Tinka was fairly new since my old assistant had to leave due to a pregnancy and we immediately bounded. She was gorgeous and I had to admit I was a bit jealous of her, not only for her looks but also for the way she attracted people easily and all that charisma she had probably inherited at birth, but at the same time, I felt connected to her too and I could never hate her.

"Okay so, I wanted to show you something. I mean at first I was not sure if I should, because I shouldn't have filmed it in first place, but..." she blabbed nervously before shaking her head. "I'll just show you."

She took her phone and clicked on a few things before handing it to me. I frowned, taking it cautiously before noticing she was showing me a video. I clicked on play and my eyes got bigger when I noticed Niall, sitting at the cafeteria as Heidi sat down in front of him. The first part of the conversation was hard to hear but Niall seemed confused and when she handed him a sheet of paper, I frowned again. He stared at what was written on it and finally, she put her hand on top of his and I felt my heart jump high in my throat. The second part of the conversation though, I heard it very clearly.

“You’re right. We should get back together, Niall.” Heidi said with a soft voice. “I mean, I know you’re trying to make me jealous with her but let’s be real. Who could really be jealous of her?"

This time, my heart sank in my chest and I swallowed hard. I was worth more than Heidi gave me credits for, I knew it now, but I also knew she would never see it. Perhaps, she was too busy trying to win Niall back.

“Do you even listen to yourself? You know damn well I’m with Liv and.. aren’t you with Dylan? I love her, okay! I’m not trying to make anyone jealous, I’m just trying to love her the way she deserves to be loved… the way I failed to love her the first time. And you have nothing to do with any of this. What even makes you think I want to be with you?"

I bit my bottom lip, breathing in deeply again and trying to suppress a small smile of relief when I heard my boyfriend's words. The fact that he admitted that he failed to love me right the first time made something stir in my stomach. I knew that failed relationship was not just on him, but it was nice to hear him admit that, especially to someone else.

“Because of that song! You wrote it for me and put it in one of my boxes for me to find!” she argued with him.

I saw Niall roll his eyes and his next words were as harsh as the tone he had used.

“I wrote this about Olivia! I wrote that in the first week I saw her again at the bakery after not seeing her for over a year. It isn’t about you, Heidi. It got in one of your boxes by mistake!” he let out rudely. “I love Olivia, not you. You need to let it go, okay? And those instagram posts you make.. For fuck’s sake, Heidi! What’s the point? Make me feel bad? Alright, I’m sorry I cheated on you, I should have broken up with you before and that was a mistake, okay? Now please, leave me the fuck alone.”

The video stopped but I still stared at the screen, lost in my thoughts, until Tinka talked again.

"I don't know why i recorded this, and I know I shouldn't have, I'm sorry." she apologized again. "But it was recorded anyway so I mean, why not show it to you?"

I just stared at the thumbnail of the video again before clicking on the 'delete' button and when it asked me if I was sure, I clicked on 'yes' without hesitation.

"Thanks, Tinka. I deleted it." I finally said, looking up at her before she nodded. "But thank you for showing me. Just... don't do that again, please. Niall and I we're both very... private."

I handed her her phone back just as an other knock was heard at the door. We both got up and I opened the door as she walked past Niall. He nodded at her and finally turned back to me, his hands in his pockets. I couldn't help but tilt my head, glancing down at him, telling myself once again how good he looked. I also couldn't stop thinking about the way he had told Heidi he loved me and it made me want to hug him.

"Olivia, I'm.. so sorry."

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised my eyebrows, expecting more than just a simple apology.

"You're right. It was so wrong, and we shouldn't have." he added, making me lick my lips. "We were literally trying to find something to talk about, and it was so awkward... the only thing we really have in common is you. But we shouldn't have."

I let my shoulders fall and sighed, raising my nose up in a grimace. "So I really make some sort of whimper when you slip your hand in my panties?"

He chuckled and took one of his hands out of his pocket to pass it in his hair. "Yea, you do. But I'm slightly jealous knowing you also whimper like that when he did it. I thought I was special."

"Oh, poor little boy thought he was special." I joked, making him grimace too. "Come here."

I grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside before closing the door behind him. He was close to me, so close I could feel the warmth of his body close to mine, and when my ass met the counter, I smiled more. He chuckled as he stared down in my eyes and shook his head slightly.

"Do you forgive me?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mm, maybe."

I felt his hand slip in my jeans and panties and my eyes fluttered slightly as my lips parted as I let lout a whimper despite myself.

"And now?" he asked, clearly amused by the effect he had on me.

"I'll tell you in a few minutes." I whispered, tilting my chin up to look at him better.

I felt two of his fingers brush gently on my clit before he slipped them inside me. I moved one of my legs up on the counter and he moved closer to me, bending down slightly until his lips were only a few inches away from mine.

"You're all mine, yea?" he whispered, making me bite my bottom lip. "Say it."

"Mm, I'm all yours Niall." I breathed out, blinking a few times. "I belong to you."

"Fuck yes you do."

He started fingering me quickly, making sure his palm was rubbing against my clit and when I felt an orgasm spread all over my body, I let my head fall back and shook slightly as he pressed his mouth against mine. I could feel his lips curl as I came and I finally got down from my high, whimpering low and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"Okay, I forgive you." I whispered, kissing him deeply for a few seconds before moving my head slightly back. "Do you think that's how Dylan will want to be forgiven too?"

I laughed lightly at the face he made and I heard him groan low. "I'll kill him."

I shook my head a bit and my amused smile turned into a fond one. "You know, I never ever moaned his name." I admitted, licking my lips. "I only do that with you."

He looked happy with my confession but he still raised his eyebrows. "Why?"

"Because... I was always scared I'd moan your name instead."

His face changed and somehow, I could read love in his eyes and it made me swallow hard. He remained silent and my lips parted again.

"I've never stopped loving you, Niall." I murmured. "I told you."

"Guess what, Olivia?" he let out in a soft tone, his eyes roaming quickly on my face. "I never stopped loving you either."

----

August 15th, 2018

Dylan had stopped me before I left and had apologized to me profusely. He even texted me the next day to apologize again and I forgave him immediately. Maybe it was because I felt a bit guilty for not telling him about the video Tinka had showed me where his girlfriend was blatantly trying to get back with my boyfriend, but It was easy to forgive him and I knew he felt horrible about it. I was still unsure if I should tell him and at the same time, I didn't want to be the reason of their break-up, or even of a fight so I deciced to ignore it for now but that didn't stop me from feeling bad.

It was almost time for Niall to go back on tour and I felt extremely nervous about it. It had taken me about a week to decide on what I would do. I wanted to go with him but at the same time, I didn't want to be the clingy girlfriend who followed him everywhere. With time, I realized that I could follow him without going back to my old habits but I still had no idea how to tell him. He hadn't mentioned it again, probably because he didn't want to sound pushy or make me feel like I had to follow him, but my insecurity sometimes tried to make me believe it was because he didn't really want to spend so long with me.

"Why did you want me to come with you, Louis?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and turning to him as he was parking. "You know it's one of my last few days with Niall."

Louis laughed and shook his head, turning to me to look in my eyes.

"We both know you're gonna follow him on tour, Liv. Who are you trying to fool?" he said, his accent thick. "You can spend a few hours with your best friend, can't ya?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at how well Louis knew me, sometimes even better than I knew myself, and I realized that I had opened up to him like I had never opened up with anyone else besides Niall. And I didn't regret it at all.

"Yes. You're right."

"Look," he started again, turning on his seat to look at me. "I have something for you."

He searched through his pockets and handed me a well-folded piece of paper, which was surprising. Normally, anything that ended up in Louis' pocket was crumpled or crushed. I frowned a bit and took it before unfolding it gently and carefully.

"I drew it meself. Took me hours."

My lips parted as I looked at the drawing of a crown. It was pretty and he clearly had put a lot of effort into it. It was not perfect, but I thought that's what made it look even more special.

"Wow, Louis... this is..."

"I made it for you." he cut me gently. "If you wanted to get a tattoo, that is. It represents you well, don't ya think?"

I looked up in his eyes and weirdly, I could read stress, like he was not sure how i'd react. The fact that Louis always called me his queen, and that he had even written a song about me with that word made this drawing even more important for me and as soon as his eyes met mine, I knew it would be impossible for me not to get this tattoo.

"I think it represents you, actually." I explained, tilting my head and looking at him. "This tattoo will always remind me of you, and I want you to know that you're important to me, Louis. I would be dead without you. Literally."

His lips curled slightly on the right and stress disappeared from his traits.

"Now you need to draw something for me to get, too." he pointed out.

"Wait, so we're here to get you a tattoo that I would draw?" I asked as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Exactly."

"Can it be simple? I can't draw for shit." I admitted with a grimace.

"Just draw it, give it to the artist, and I'll look at it when it's done."

I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling my heartbeats accelerate and after a while, I breathed in and out. After all, if he didn't like it, he could always get something over it, right?

It took half an hour to get the crown tattooed on my ankle but only about 10 minutes to get the smiley I had drawn for Louis. It was pretty simple with x's instead of eyes and since it was on his wrist, he kept his eyes closed the whole time to make sure it wouldn't ruin the surprise. We walked back to his car in silence about an hour later and sat down, both of us leaning against our seats.

"Is it too simple?" I asked before he turning his head my way with a smile.

"No, it's perfect."

I smiled back at him and held my hand up between us. It took him a few seconds but he finally grabbed it, intertwining his fingers with mine and squeezing my hand.

"Thank you for saving my life." I let out in a soft voice. "Literally, but also metaphorically."

"You saved mine, too."

---

When I walked back in Niall's house... I mean, in our house... I heard him talk and frowned, trying to be quiet in case he was on the phone. I saw him in front of his laptop, just talking to the screen and it took me a few minutes to realize he was probably on a live chat on instagram. I made sure to remain silent and walked to the kitchen to gt myself a glass of wine and leaned against the counter. I listened to what he was saying from the living room, smiling and chuckling from time to time until I heard him say his goodbyes. I wanted an other minute or two, knowing Niall was the kind of person who said bye by stayed an other half an hour with his hand on the doorknob before actually leaving and when I joined him in the living room, he was getting up.

"Are you done?"

"Yes, sorry, I thought it would take you longer." he apologized, making me smile.

"No, it's all good, it's cool that you do lives for your fans." I just shrugged, joining him near the couch. "Your such a good person."

He smiled more and took the glass from my hands before placing it on the coffee table. I chuckled and he wrapped his arms around my waist, raising his eyebrows.

"And does that turn you on?"

I laughed some more. "Maybe."

He didn't answer anything. Instead, he pressed his lips against mine as his arms pulled me even closer. My eyes fluttered close as he deepened the kiss and I sighed low, feeling my body relax in his arms.

"I'm gonna miss you so much." he whispered before kissing me some more,

"I'll miss you more."

He stepped forward, forcing me to take a step back, and guided us around the couch and until the hall. I ended up hitting my back on the wall and I laughed against his lips.

"Clumsy ass." he said in the same amused tone he always said it. "I love you."

We finally ended up in our room and he closed the door with one of his feet, bringing me to the bed and quickly putting himself on top of me. I loved the feeling of his body over mine, warming me, and it always surprised me that every time, it would make a shiver cross my back. I shivered in his arms and he pulled away slightly to look in my eyes.

"How about we stay locked here until I have to take that fucking stupid plane?"

I raised my eyebrows and my lips parted before I tilted my chin up. "Don't you have somewhere to be tomorrow?"

"I canceled." he admitted, his eyes dropping to my lips before he ground his hips against mine, probably without thinking.

"For me?" I asked with a small smile.

"For us."

I brought my hands to his cheeks and let one of my thumbs brush on his bottom lip. "How many times are you gonna make love to me until you leave?"

His lips curled again and he chuckled low. "As many times as I can."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #1dff #my fanfics #yam

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solarwriting · 5 years ago

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Road Trip {Gina Porter}

summary: the musical was over and spring break has begun; the gang has decided to go on a roadtrip while y/n and gina try and deny their feelings

characters/ships: Gina Porter x fem!Reader; Rickey Bowen x Nini Slazar-Roberts; Ashlyn Caswell x Big Red; Carlos Rodriquez

song insp.: this entire playlist Teenager In Love - Madison Beer, What I Need - Hayley Kiyoko

word count: 1.6k

note: Gina is a wlw you can’t tell me otherwise | send requests!

part 1 | part 2

The gang finally had a break from musicals, school, and drama. Spring break was upon them and there were no pressures of an upcoming musical to stress them out. As far as Y/n could tell no one had any plans so she took it upon herself to make plans for them.

Y/n told Ricky, Nini, Carlos, Big Red, Ashlyn, and Gina to meet her at her house in the garage. When they arrived Y/n told them what she wanted to do, and they all thought she was crazy.

“Um, I just looked it up and it’s an eleven hour drive.” Ricky explained, motioning to his phone.

Ashlyn jumped in, “And it can’t be cheap.”

“You see, I already have that figured out, my uncle has a friend who can give us tickets, so that’s covered. We just need to stop at one hotel on the way there and back, so we don’t have to drive in the dark.

“If we go to cheaper motels and only stop in three cities, one on the way there, one once we get there, and one on the way back. Then we will have spent almost no money. Besides gas but that’s okay.”

“Are we really going to see Beetlejuice: the Musical?” Carlos exclaimed with an excited squeal.

Everyone looked around at each other before smiling and cheering.

The day had come, the gang was going to San Francisco to see Beetlejuice: the Musical - the off-off-Broadway version but a musical nonetheless. Y/n was the first up to drive, it was her van after all. She picked up Gina and Ashlyn first, Gina sat in the passenger seat and Ashlyn sat in the seat directly behind her. Y/n Picked up Big Red and Ricky who was already at Red’s house. Red sat next to Ashlyn and Ricky sat in the far back directly behind him. Y/n picked up Nini next, who sat next to Ricky. Carlos was picked up last who took Big Red’s spot while Red moved to sit next to Nini, right behind Ashlyn.

Everyone packed as little as possible, trying to fit a lot in the van’s small trunk was one challenge they couldn’t pass by.

“Hey, Carlos, sorry Seb couldn’t come.” Y/n said, glancing at Carlos through the rear view mirror.

Carlos sighed, “It’s okay, he had to help on the farm.”

A comfortable quiet fell on the van as music played sofly from the speakers. everyone stuck in their own little conversations. Gina looked over at Y/n who’s eyes were focused on the road. Y/n looked at Gina, catching her stare. The two girls’ faces heated up both of their eyes averting back to the road.

“You know,’ Y/n started, motioning to her phone resting on the center console, “You can change the music, if you want.”

Gina smiled and grabbed the phone, scrolling through Y/n’s playlist titled ‘Roadtrip!’ before settling on a song. She played the song and turned the music up with a smile, She by Harry Styles began streaming through the speakers, a favorite between the group.

Everyone soon started to sing along,

She lives in daydreams with me She's the first one that I see And I don't know why I don't know who she is

The first few hours flew by and soon everyone needed to stretch their legs, use the bathroom and get snacks and gas. Y/n put the gas in the van wile the others were in the station most likely getting snacks. Ricky and Nini were the first to walk out of the small building, Y/n tossed Ricky the keys.

“Your turn to drive, I need a break.” Y/n explained as she inserted her gas card into the machine. She hopped into the van, sitting in far back on the same side as the driver. Gina was the next to enter the van, Ricky and Nini already sat up front ready for everyone to load up.

Gina sat next to Y/n passing her a bag of her favorite snacks and her favorite drink, “Thanks, Gina.”

Gina smiled, slightly embarrassed, “It’s not a big deal, I figured you were busy with gas and stuff.” Her cheeks were warm and she shrugged it off before buckling herself next to Y/n, Carlos on her other side.

Ashlyn and Big Red sat in the middle row lost in their own conversation. Since Nini was sat upfront everyone was subjected to listening to the soundtracks from her favorite musicals for the next couple of hours.

“Where did we even end up?” Gina asked Y/n who was taking a sip of her drink.

Y/n looked out the window trying to remember, “Elko, I think.” She looked at Gina with a small smile.

Y/n wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did around Gina, they had been friends ever since she transferred right before their sophmore year a few moths ago. Y/n would find herself annoyed when ever Gina spent too much time with EJ or Ricky. Y/n got particularly angry with EJ during the dance he took Gina to. Y/n didn’t know why she felt hot while Gina sat so closely to her. Y/n kept her hands in her lap awkwardly, her knee sometimes knocking against Gina’s.

Y/n was lost in her thoughts and soon her snack and drink were soon forgotten as she drifted off, the three hours she spent driving taking its toll on her. Her head fell to the side, colliding with Gina’s shoulder.

Gina’s eyes widened at the sudden weight her her shoulder but smiled to herself when she saw Y/n sleeping peacefully against her. Gina blushed and returned to her conversation with Carlos.

A few hours had passed and the sun had begun to set by the time Y/n had woken up, her head still lying on Gina’s shoulder, who had been careful to not wake her. Y/n’s eyes fluttered open, her brows furrowed as she looked around before she realized she was on someone. Her head shot up, eyes widened as she looked at Gina with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry.” Y/n mumbled to Gina.

Gina smiled and leaned close to Y/n and boldly whispered into her ear, “I didn’t mind.” Shivers ran down Y/n’s spine, feeling Gina’s breath on her neck like that.

Gina sat back, her cheeks rosier than usual. Y/n’s face not so different as she tried to hide behind her hand as she rested her arm on the arm rest and looked out the window.

Music still played softly, this time it was some sort of soft hip-hop or rap only he and Big Red really knew, but no one complained. Everyone was fairly tired, sitting in a car for about seven hours could do that to a person.

At some point Nini took over driving and Ricky was in the passenger seat, explaining why his music was playing. Y/n yawned and stretched as best as she could.

Y/n looked out the window finally noticing the beautiful sunset that graced the horizon. The highway wasn’t so beautiful but the mixture of oranges, pinks, reds, and yellows made up for it. Y/n sighed contentedly and pulled out her phone snapping a few pictures before choosing one to share on her story.

She flipped her phone’s camera, nudging Gina getting her’s and Carlos’ attention taking a picture while the golden light was still kind to them posting this image with the caption ‘road trip going strong’ adding a small heart next to it.

Y/n and Gina began talking about their future plans how Gina wanted to go to a preforming arts college and how Y/n hoped to get into art school. Y/n was unsure about getting accepted but Gina reassured her, “You’ll definitely get in, they’d be crazy not to have you, plus that’s two years away.”

Y/n smiled, “Yeah,” She chuckled, “Maybe we’ll end going to school near each other.”

Gina blushed at that comment, “Yeah, maybe.”

The two continued to talk as the van continued to barrel down the highway, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon. Soon Nini pulled into a small motel that lay just of the highway. The motel was small and slightly sketchy but they didn’t mind as they all clambered out of the van and pulling their bags out of the cramped trunk.

Ricky went ahead to rent a room for the night, Y/n told him two rooms each with two beds would be the most convenient for everyone. The couples could be in one room and share beds and the three singles could each sleep alone, one of them on the couch.

The six waited outside for Ricky with the keys, the entrances to each room being outside. Ricky walked out with a frown on his face, “They only had one room but it has two beds and a pull-out couch.”

“Ricky and I get a bed!” Nini called as she followed her boyfriend towards their room. “Big Red and I can share a bed too, if that’s okay with you, Red.” Ashlyn said softly.

“You and Gina can sleep on the pull-out, the floor would probably be better on ,y back anyways.” Carlos offered as he followed the group up stairs leaving Y/n and Gina in the back both of them sharing embarrassed faces.

What a cliche.

#hsmtmts #hsmtmts imagine #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen x nini salazar roberts #gina porter x reader #big red x ashlyn #ashlyn hsmtmts #ashlyn caswell #ej caswell x reader #ricky x ej #this was lowkey inpired by papertowns?? maybe?

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my-arlington-academia · 5 years ago

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The main 10 cheering up a crying Scholar (Y/N) finally part 2!

Here are Neha, Raquel and Tadashi! I had to cut the last 5 in 2 posts because tumblr doesn't allow more than 250 blocks of text... But anyway! I finally did it! It's been 84 years... though I feel like those are not really headcanons anymore. They're all so long that it would be more accurate to say that they're scenarios. Sorry! It's probably gonna be really annoying scrolling up and down.

Neha

- crying is a really good way to let your emotions out and it always worked out for you

- whenever it's all too much you make yourself cry to feel better afterward

- one day, once you finished crying your phone rang

- it's from Neha, she's inviting you to her room

- oh boy.

- when you moved into the dorms Karolina did say that the previous owner of the room would put loud music on and they would hear it

- 'did Neha hear me cry?' God you hope not

- When you knock, the door immediately opens as if Neha was right in front of it waiting for you

- She pulls you in and starts taking your measurements

- "I've decided to use you as my model for my next outfit."

- "W-what?!?"

- now you're almost sure that she did hear you, or else why would she make an outfit just for you when she's got Karolina?

- surprisingly a few days later the outfit is done! Does it really take that little time usually? You're pretty sure that Neha already had the design ready in her sketchbook

- during that time though, everyday until the "outfit" was ready she would go out of her way to talk to you everyday even though she's usually either busy or with Karolina

- she knows that it annoys her but even when Karolina was around Neha would still come and chat with you for a bit

- You're guessing that she didn't want you to feel like you're alone in your hard times

- when the outfit was done she called you over again

- "Here, try it on!"

- there's more excitement in her voice than usual and it's really freaking cute

- "You mean right here, right now?"

- she keeps staring at you in silence before coming back to her senses

- "Oh, right. Sorry. I'll turn away while you change."

- but then while you're taking your clothes off the door flows open

- "Neha, did you see my-"

- Karolina looks at the both of you and while she's trying to process the scene all that she gets from the situation is: you taking your clothes off in their room, and Neha waiting for you to take them off while facing away?

- "N... Nevermind. Just do your thing I'll come back in one hour. Or uh, two hours. Actually."

- She closed the door in a hurry. Welp. She probably misunderstood.

- Neha kept on facing the wall but you could see her ears getting red

- that little accident is quickly forgotten when you've put the outfit on

- it's so elaborate and classy. it's making you feel self-concious

- Even though Neha was the one who made the outfit she blushed when she saw you in it

- "You look so lovely- uh. I mean the dress! The dress looks lovely on you, obviously, since I'm the one who made it."

- her bashfulness is making you blush too but you tell her that you can't pay for it

- "Are you kidding? It's a gift I've made for you. No one else in the world owns this and won't own it because I won't put it on sale. It's a special outfit only for you."

- She takes her sketchbook and rips out a page, it's a sketch of the outfit and... you're the one wearing it on the drawing!

- "To be honest, I had already heard you crying a few times in your room and I didn't know how to help. So uh... I guess what I mean is. I've been planning this for a long time but I wasn't brave enough to ask for your measurements until recently and um..."

- She's rambling and rambling, you've probably never heard her talk this much

- "Basically... when you're sad come over. Or ask me to come over, whatever. Our rooms are right next to eachother so whether you cry in your room or here I'll hear you anyway so you might as well be with me."

- this was maybe not the best way to phrase it, but you got the feeling she was going for and that's all that matters

Raquel

- Noticed that you weren't feeling good right away

- but more in a "are you catching a cold?" kinda way

- but it didn't have anything to do with your health

- You actually wanted to explain what happend as soon as it did but when you tried to, tears came down immediately from the very first sentence

- Raquel grabbed you by the shoulders

- "It's okay! You can tell me later if it's too hard."

- The next day when you were getting ready to go to school Raquel came to your room dressed in casual clothes

- "Hey Y/N! Let's skip today."

- You tell her that you can't because you're a scholarship student and all but she ends up convincing you anyway

- "It's all fine, it's just for one day! Everyone thinks that you're a really hard-working, punctual and honest person! They'll believe whatever you say."

- "Raquel... I am a hard-working, punctual and honest person..."

- "Exactly! And that's why you can take advantage of that and no one will doubt you."

- Oh well...

- it's not like you were looking forward to that math test anyway

- you sneak around and get out of the school through Raquel's knowledge of... blind spots?

- you feel a little guilty about it since you'll have to lie to the teachers later about "not feeling well"

- Raquel makes you forget that pretty easily though

- "Okayyy! Now let's go have our breakfast, I know a place."

- "Ah, cool."

- "You don't sound really excited... But you know, the both of us sneaking out of school to go on a date: isn't it a little bit like we're secretly lovers during war time between two kingdoms in a movie?"

- Wait, this was a date?? You had no idea

- You spent the whole day just walking around town in different fast foods, parks, and shops

- everytime you wanted to buy something Raquel would try to buy it for you

- You refused everything except the food, she was being extremely pushy about paying for the food

- on the way back you decide to tell her about your troubles again, this time hopefully you won't burst into tears

- She's incredibly understanding and doesn't let you downplay your feelings

- anytime you say "it may sound stupid"/"maybe I'm being too emotional" she's like

- "No! Fuck that! There's a reason why you feel this way and it's not dumb."

- You get a little bit teary eyed and before you can even think about crying Raquel hugs you

- then she whispers in your ear

- "Did it hurt?"

- "Uh... what?"

- At first you thought she meant your feelings because obviously it did hurt, you just spent like 20 minutes explaining what had happened

- but then you understood

- is she seriously trying to cheer you up with pick-up lines?

- "So did it hurt or did it not?"

- "You mean, when I fell from heaven?"

- She makes the biggest grin before replying

- "No, when you fell for me."

- You're trying your best not to burst into laughter

- "Nah, not really. It was a quick fall."

- Oh no, you outsmarted her lame pick-up line

- you guys end the day with the most stupid pick-up line fight

- little do you know that Raquel will shoot a ball in the face of a certain someone for hurting you

- maybe multiple times if she feels like it

Tadashi

- To be honest he didn't really notice at first

- maybe it was one of your "bad days", Tadashi knows what it's like so he totally gets it

- but then when it's been 3 days in a row and you're still in that state?

- he cancels all of his work and assignements for the day

- calls you over in such a professional manner that it's kinda scary

- he literally asks you to meet him in the student council's room

- tells you to "please sit down" in front of him

- Honestly, this situation is making you really tense. Did Tadashi figure out that one time, 3 months ago, when you stole a smoothie from the cafeteria?

- "Look, I'm sorry okay? I was just really thirsty and I needed sugar. Also, it's not like I wasn't allowed to get one! There was no one at the counter so I figured it wouldn't hurt to..."

- Tadashi IAmConfusion™ looks at you

- "Why are you talking about that now? Don't worry, I know."

- Now it's your turn to get confused

- "You mean... you knew and you didn't give me detention?"

- Now he looks a bit frustrated

- "Come on Y/N, I'm not that mean. I won't give you detention just because you came 5 minutes late to our meeting."

- This is most likely a misunderstanding...

- "This is what you were talking about just now, right? That the reason why you came here late is because you were drinking a smoothie. I figured you were probably busy doing something so no need to feel so guilty about it."

- "Oh. Oooohhh... yeahh... totally. Sorry."

- Now that this is out of the way, he asks you to tell him what's on your mind

- At first you hesitate a little but, if there's someone with whom you want to share this with, it's Tadashi

- he's listening really closely to what you're saying without cutting you off but sometimes you can see his eyes getting a bit darker

- Like, you're not being specific enough about a detail or something and he's probably taking notes of all the questions he has so that he can ask them when you're done

- At some point though, you become really emotional and your voice starts cracking when you're talking

- You end up crying and your tears fall on the desk

- Tadashi jumps out of his seat, his chair falls down as he panics

- "Hey! Y/N?? Err... Um..."

- Takes you in his arms carefully, like he's not really sure if that's what he's supposed to do when this type of thing happens

- "It's okay! I'm here... I'm here so... d-don't cry Y/N I'll do something about it no problem!"

- when you've calmed down he puts down his wallet on the desk

- "Uh... what?"

- "You can use it."

- "You mean your money??"

- "What else?"

- he explains that you can take all the smoothies and premium food in the cafeteria with this

- "Are you kidding? I can't use your money for that."

- He's literally trying to cheer you up with money which is obviously not the way to go about it

- He sees that you're not convinced so he pulls out his phone and shoves the screen on your face so closely that you have to take a step back in order to read what's on it

- It's Tadashi's to do list, probably the place where he writes all of his tasks for the week

- The spot on number one is you. It reads "1. Y/N"

- when you look at him Tadashi is furiously blushing and looking away

- this is incredibly sweet until you notice how wrong this sounds

- "Wait... Tadashi?"

- "Yes?"

- "I'm first on your... "To do" list? Seriously?"

- "What's that's supposed to mean? Of course you're number one on my- Oh god..."

- he just understood how wrong it sounded and took the phone back before rewriting the list

- He's making it so easy for you to tease him

- the poor boy is literally begging you to stop it but you can't until he shows you his phone screen again

- this time it's written "1. Make Y/N smile again", you're literally his number one priority. This is so sweet to the point where you can't tease him anymore. It would be too mean.

- As for Tadashi, let's just say that he's about to get "really mean" with the person you were talking about just now and he's not going to hold back

#sweet elite #se #main 10 #I was this 👌 close to forgetting that I have to write the rest of those scenarios #scenarios #well at this point I think everyone gave up on waiting 😂#sorry if some of them are silly but I only write top quality cringe 😎

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powerdragonmoon · 4 years ago

Text

Claws and Effect

Chapter 2 - I Angy

Kacchakoweek2020 - Day 2: Royal AU

The angry cat boy saga continues... Bakugou Cat-suki AU

Day 2 - Kacchako week: Royal AU (blink and you'll miss it!)

<<Chapter 1

(ao3 link)

That morning, Bakugou felt like his skin was on fire.

It was like his whole body was alight in pain. As if an acid was burning through each layer to his bone. He scratched at his scalp, at his arms, and chest. It did nothing.

He rushed to the washrooms blindly and stood under the cold shower hoping to extinguish the fire on his skin. He stood there until he was shivering. It did nothing.

Nothing.

Fucking nothing.

By the time he arrived to class he was well past seething. His scowl rivaled the one that plastered on every news station last year after he had won the Sports Tournament. He was basically simmering in his seat. Even Kirishima had the good sense to not bother him. His hands shook. Instead of pops of explosions, wisps of smoke emitted from his palms as his sweat glands were still recovering from his cold shower.

When Uraraka walked into the classroom, Bakugou made a point to avoid looking at her, although he couldn’t help but notice the bandage on her palm as she waved and greeted her classmates. The sight left him with a weird burning in his stomach and he grimaced, glaring daggers into his desk. His fist flexed, clenching and unclenching, trying to suppress the smoke.

Even out of the corner of his eye, she grabbed his attention and fuck him for not being able to not notice her. As she settled into her desk, she leaned forward in her seat to talk to Rock Face and Four-Eyes. Whatever she had said seemed to quickly grab the attention of the rest of the class. Pinkie practically leapt from her seat to tackle Uraraka.

Oh for fucks sake, they had better not be talking about what he knew they were probably talking about.

Thankfully their homeroom teacher finally emerged from his yellow cocoon of a sleeping bag and brought the class to order.

Before he could stop himself, Bakugou once again glanced over his shoulder. He felt like a fucking creep watching as Uraraka looked forward, listening intently to whatever the hell Aizawa was droning on about. His eyes narrowed, remembering Rock Face’s quirk … Talking to animals or some shit? What the fuck was she planning?

As if she heard his thoughts, her large, brown eyes flickered towards him. She tilted her head to one side as if she was asking if he needed something. What he needed was her to fucking stop is what he needed. Instead, her round cheeks lifted with her smile and she raised her bandaged hand in a gentle wave.

“Tch.”

He turned back towards the front of the class. Discreetly he raised his own hand up to his shoulder presenting her his middle finger. He smiled when he heard her snort from the other side of class.

“Something to share, Uraraka?” came Aizawa’s monotone and bored voice.

“Eep! No sir!”

Unphased, Bakugou leaned back lazily in his chair, bringing his hands up behind his head to rest upon as Aizawa continued on with his announcements.

Feeling the effects of a sleepless night, Bakugou tilted his face towards the sun streaming through the window, closing his eyes against the light. The gentle heat felt like a balm against the ache in his bones and he used it as a way to distract himself from the incessant itching on his skin.

But it still wasn’t enough. The day moved at a snail’s pace and with each passing minute Bakugou’s discomfort seemed to be at war with his anger. Each rose in intensity only for the other to rise even further than before. All this coupled with his exhaustion left him irritable, or more irritable than his usual self.

After lunch, when Bakugou thought it couldn’t get any worse, Midnight began their Art History class with a slideshow about fucking capes of all things and in the process she reached for something on her desk. A pen? She twirled it in her hand for a moment before pushing the top of it. The next slide came up.

Oh duh, it was a clicker for the presentation.

And then suddenly a red dot popped on the screen, tracing the outline of some hero. It danced around, immediately catching Bakugou’s attention as he zoned out everything around him but that damn dot.

He felt a shiver run up his back. Pins and needles ghosted against his limbs and unconsciously he was reminded of the feeling of a tail swishing behind him. He crouched, eyes on the target as he readied himself to—

“Yes, Bakugou?”

He flinched.

With great effort, Bakugou tore his eyes from the red dot, meeting his teacher’s questioning stare. Blinking wildly, he tried to refocus his mind, suddenly realizing he was standing from his chair. The entire class was looking at him with varying levels of concern, shock, and confusion. His hands were gripping the sides of his desk and smoking.

“I-I uh…”

He glanced around the room, trying to shake himself back to reality. What happened? Oh shit he was in class. He turned back to Midnight at the front of the class, her arms crossed over her chest and she clicked her pointer.

The red dot vanished.

“Did you have something to share with the class, Bakugou?” his teacher asked, raising a brow, an echo of earlier that morning when Aizawa had asked Uraraka the same question.

Uraraka who at the back of the class was also staring up at him, her lips pursed into a small pout and her big eyes were wide with worry.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“I fuckin’ need to piss!”

And he bolted, shoving his hands into his pockets and refusing to look up as he walked out of the classroom. Behind him he could hear Midnight calling out to him but fuck it, he needed to get out of there.

He all but ran to the washroom, immediately going to the row of sinks and turning on the water to wash the sweat from his hands. The water ran cold, distracting him from the goddamn clawing pain in his body. It was like having a muscle cramp or an itch that he couldn’t scratch.

He splashed water against his face, making a mess of his uniform but not even caring. He had a hunch his body was trying to tell him something—that he needed to transform or some shit or suffer the pain. He wouldn’t be told what to do, even if it was his own body. Plus, even when he had transformed last night he was still haunted by the pain. Nothing was helping.

Fuck this quirk.

He stared at himself in the mirror before him, glaring at himself for being so weak and pathetic. When his explosion quirk manifested, all those years ago, he was one of the first kids his age. His teachers, his doctor, his parents, everyone was impressed with him and not only the power of his quirk but the ease at which he was able to control it. Sure there had been a few mistakes made along the way, his parent’s framed a singed part of the wall in their house, but he was always pushing himself to the limit and with that determination came mastery of his quirk.

No way in fuck was he going to do the same thing with this shitty cat power.

The pain was fine, he kept telling himself. He could get used to it. Use it as a way to train. No pain, no gain.

When he finally returned to class, he wasn’t surprised to be informed that he had detention after class.

Fuck.

——————————————————-

After the huge waste of time that detention was, Bakugou hit the gym to release the pent up aggression that was already rolling off of his entire being in waves. He ran until his legs ached. He did so many push-ups that he lost count and when his muscles spasmed for relief he ignored them.

Eventually he began his cool down, stretching out and hitting the showers before making his way back to the dorms, thinking about a post workout meal.

When he arrived to Alliance Heights, he was unpleasantly surprised to find some of his classmates outside on the green grass. They were grouped together talking excitedly as Dunce Face seemed to be explaining something to everyone. Everyone erupted into laughter at something the idiot Pikachu said and Bakugou glowered. He just wanted to get inside, eat, and get to his room with as little social interaction as possible.

“Yo! Bakugou!”

Of fucking course.

Bakugou paused, head tipping up to the sky as he ran a hand down his face.

“I’m busy, Shitty Hair,” he replied before continuing towards the building, hands back in pockets.

He seethed as he felt Kirishima’s presence join him by his side, slamming a hand on Bakugou’s shoulder that he quickly slapped away.

“Dude, what is up with you today?” Kirishima asked.

“Fucking nothing.”

“Well, come on then. Let’s hang! Kaminari was just telling us about this game and—”

Raccoon Eyes jumped out of nowhere from behind Kirishima. “Come play, Bakugou!” she yelled as if he were a fucking dog.

“Tch. I ain’t going to play shit. I’m fucking hungry”

Bakugou glanced back to the group around Pikachu. Soy Sauce, Earplugs, Bird Face, Tail, that Half-and-Half Bastard, and fucking Deku looked towards him expectantly.

Fucking nope.

No way in hell was Bakugou going to even entertain the idea of playing some dumbass, kid’s game with fucking Deku of all people.

And then, the cherry on top of the shit sundae of it all, Deku moved, laughing at something Icy Hot had said and from behind him a small figure was revealed. She was so fucking small Bakugou didn’t even see her there until Deku got out of the way.Brown hair and brown eyes, Uraraka giggled indelicately, those stupid pink cheeks of her’s where flushed even more than normal and Bakugou glared wondering what the fuck that bastard could have said to garner such a reaction.

No way was he staying.

“Aw come on, dude!” Pikachu all but pleaded. “It’s more fun with more people!”

“Pffffttt,” Soy Sauce laughed. “You mean more violent!”

Violent?

Bakugou stopped. Curiosity getting the better of him as he turned to the group.

Only for Deku to immediately make him regret his decision of even considering staying.

“Hmmm … the game, while simple, can actually have some practical uses,” the damn green haired, idiot spoke, mostly to himself. “This would be good training exercise. I’m sure as heroes we will likely find ourselves in this kind of a situation. Having to take into account those around you and reacting as fast as possible …” The dumb nerd brought his hand to his chin, continuing to mutter to himself about the stupidest fucking shit.

Bakugou moved to leave again, only for Kirishima to block him. The damn fool was already hardening his face as Bakugou lifted his hand, firing off a small explosion at him.

Unfazed, Sparky spoke over Deku, “Alright, Bakugou, I’ll reexplain rules for y—”

Bakugou scowled, deciding the faster they got this over with, the faster he could get the hell out of here. “Fucking whatever, I’m sure whatever stupid game you would want to play is easy enough to get immediately, idiot.” He raised his sparking hand up threateningly. “Let’s go.”

Soy Sauce smirked elbowing Sparky. “Alright then,” he said with a shrug. “But you brought this on yourself, dude.”

The group gathered, making an odd, uneven circle. Bakugou tried to not look at Uraraka who stood across from him. She was still smiling and it was pissing him off. Her hand was playing with a piece of her hair and she pressed a finger to her ear. Her brown eyes darted around, giggling as she looked around the circle.

Fucking weirdo.

His eyes continued to watch everyone, waiting impatiently for any sign of what was to come. His shoulders tensed and eyes flashed around, ready to attack. The exhaustion from a sleepless night, shitty school day, tough workout, and that damn itch were fast forgotten.

But as the seconds ticked by, nothing happened. They all just stood there. Bakugou straightened up slightly from his battle stance.

“Well this is fucking lame.”

Kirishima grinned at him, picking at something in his ear. Sparky and Soy Sauce were doing the same thing and Bakugou scoffed, not getting what the hell these idiot extras were up to.

Although, looking around, he suddenly realized that everyone seemed to be poking their ears, almost as if they were all wearing communicators like they wore in their field courses.

And then everyone’s eyes zeroed in on him.

“GET DOWN YOUR HIGHNESS!” They all shouted, moving towards him.

“What the FU—”

It all happened so suddenly.

Tape flew out towards him. Bakugou had the fastest reaction in the class, but as he moved to step back, he realized his boots were frozen to the ground. Fucking Half and Half. Bakugou aimed his hands to his feet, firing off a small explosion in an attempt to free himself. However in that time, Soy Sauce’s tape wrapped around his torso, binding his arms to his side.

Kirishima and Deku burst forward. Deku did a stupid little leap into the air to come at him from above, while Kirishima came at him him from the side. They tackled him with such force that he broke free from the ice immobilizing him, only to land in a heap on the ground. He grunted as he felt the added weight of more people piling on top of them, a tangle of limbs and Bakugou’s berserker rage.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” he yelled.

Uraraka’s laugh sounded much too close to his ears for his comfort. He wiggled, trying to angle his hands to blast away the tape restricting him.

“You were right Kaminari,” stupid Icy Hot’s monotone voice said. “This is fun.”

Bakugou looked up. The damn bastard was standing up staring down at them all. His mouth twisted into the smallest of smiles. He wanted to punch it right off his stupid face.

“I think this is the closest Bakugou’s ever gotten to a group hug ever guys!” Kirishima smiled as if they had just solved world peace. That optimistic fucker.

“I’ll kill you,” his voice came out bluntly. Bakugou felt the slightest give on the tape and using his brute strength he was able to finally rip it from his body, elbowing a few people along the way.

“You goddamn extras,” Bakugou fumed, “BETTER GET THE FUCK OFF ME.”

He burst, pushing against the bodies piled on top of him. Raising his hands, he aimed them directly at Deku and—

A hand ran through his hair, pressing into his scalp.

He melted.

And then suddenly he was weightless.

“Oh FUCKING SHIT!”

“Run!”

Bakugou felt himself rise into the air as all the idiots jumped off him. Although now he wished something kept him tethered to the ground.

He didn’t want to admit it but the thought ran through his head unbidden as he rose higher and higher. He could've easily avoided this goddamn dogpile if he had been quick enough to transform into his other form.

But that would never happen.

“Don’t release him until we’re out of the kill zone, Uraraka!” he heard Pikachu shout from below.

These fuckers. Bakugou tried not to panic as he felt his stomach heave. He just needed to get himself orientated, feeling like a gymnast on a balance beam—if the balance beam was just air, there was fucking nothing to balance on, just his own fucking will power.

Glancing back at the ground, he tried to figure out the amount of force needed to get back down. He raised his hands up, pointing them to the sky before ditching the physics equations in his head and just deciding to take out as many of those damn extras as he could.

The added weightlessness from Uraraka’s quirk made him move faster through the air with his explosions. Just catching the looks on those extras faces as he raced back down to the earth was worth getting roped into this stupid game. Sparky’s eyes blew wide as Bakugou flew towards him, watching as the idiot flashed electric, charging up his quirk; as if he would have time to get a hit on him. Bakugou’s smirk grew and a maniacal laugh burst from him.

And then just as suddenly as he had been tackled and flown up into the sky, his weight returned and his explosions ceased. Bakugou face planted into the ground.

“FUCK!”

“Detention, detention, detention,” came Aizawa's voice as Bakugou punched the ground. “Tomorrow morning, before class at the P.E. Grounds, dress accordingly. All of you.”

“Aweehhh,” Pikachu walked around with his thumbs-up.

Kirishima, ever the idiot, apologized to their teacher, joined by Deku, the kiss ass.

“Next time,” Kirishima said, “no quirks.”

The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Bakugou grit his teeth, there wouldn’t be a next time if he could help it.

Detention two days in a row. Bakugou was going to murder Kirishima and Sparky. He stood up glaring at Aizawa and feeling his quirk return, realizing for just those few moments that Aizawa’s Erasure quirk had momentarily rid him of that stupid itch on his bones. Fuck he hadn’t realized how bad it was until it came rushing back. His knees buckled, but he refused to fall, even as his stomach churned from his Zero-G trip through the sky.

Come to think of it, the stupid pain had vanished the second Uraraka’s hand had touched him. Perhaps it was the adrenaline? Or his surprise? Bakugou wasn’t sure but fuck if that short moment of reprieve didn’t all but save his sanity.

Plus, being a human rocketship was kinda awesome.

#kacchakoweek #bnha #kacchako #kacchako week 2020 #kacchakoweek2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #bakugou cat-suki #mha #moon writes #royal au because of the game xD #I KNOW ITS MR PRESIDENT BUT I NEEDED TO WORK IN THE PROMPT SOMEHOW #powder writes #mywriting #my writing

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guardianofjunmyeon · 5 years ago

Text

Finding Atlantis (part 3)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: after reading who do YOU think is the princess? Who is lying, who is telling the truth, WHATS the truth!? It will be revealed next chapter^^

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

You scramble out of your bed at his words. You shove your feet in your boots, sling your sword and gun haphazardly across your body and run out of the room as fast as your feet can carry you. Yixing follows close behind. As soon as you emerge from your quarters, you see that some members of your night crew are being carried to the infirmary for their injuries, and anyone else awake enough to gauge the situation is running around trying to man their stations. You walk to the edge of your ship and your telescope is slapped into your waiting palm.

You set it on the ship in the distance.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen it before. It’s inconspicuous enough. White sails and dark brown hull. You find Baekhyun quickly enough. He’s standing on the main deck with a triumphant smile on his face; Yeri held by two men and bound and gagged at his side. Her eyes are darting around quickly, calculating, trying to find her way out. Baekhyun stands proudly with one hand on his hip. He has his own telescope trained on your ship, and his jewelry gleams in the early morning light.

Seeing your telescope trained on him, he puts his own down, and has the fucking audacity to wave. You close your telescope with a clack loud enough to indicate that you might have broken it, but you don’t care right now.

“Report,” you demand to whoever is at your side.

Junmyeon takes the telescope from your clenched fingers. “They haven’t moved in an hour or so. From the looks of it, they broke out, knocked out the night crew, and kidnapped Yeri while she was awake at her post before they stole a dinghy and rowed over to that ship. We don’t know what they want, but they haven’t made any further moves to hurt her or to run.”

You grit your teeth. He’s gone too fucking far. Kidnapping a member of your crew? You can tolerate his bullshit on a good day, but when it comes to messing with your crew…you might really have to kill the bastard this time.

“Ready all canons. I want Minseok to prepare any cannons we have available with any men we have available.” You clench your empty fist again, and look at Junmyeon who is just as pissed off as you, angry red splotches blooming across his skin. “Hard to starboard and forward sail. We’ve either got a fight or a chase coming, so I want all hands on deck and ready for anything.”

Junmyeon nods and then barks out orders across the ship. You’re going to rip Baekhyun’s heart out through his fucking asshole. You attempt to reel in your temper as your ship closes in on his; you refuse to let him see you unhinged because of his actions. Thinking about the unadulterated happiness it would bring him helps you put on a calmer mask.

His ship doesn’t move, but it is bigger than you expected.

“Ready all canons, but hold your fire until I say so.” Your orders are parroted across the ship, all the way to Minseok who is below deck with Seulgi handling your weapons.

When your ship is broadside, and finally close enough to be within hearing distance of his, he speaks first. “Give us the princess and we’ll let the girl go. You can have her back, we won’t harm a hair on her pretty little head,” he shouts across the distance.

“Eat shit and die!” You shout back. You hear his laugh, loud and clear in the air. Yeri catches your eyes. She widens her own and shakes her head furiously. You swallow down bile at the thought of them hurting her. “You’ll let her go?” you ask. She shakes her head again, begging you not to switch her out. One of his men shoves her hard enough to bring her to her knees. You instinctively take a step forward.

Baekhyun’s eye shines with excitement.

Yeri is strong, you know that, but you won’t let her stay on that ship. Not with him.

“Yep,” he says with a smile large enough to blind you.

You stand with your head lifted and a hand on your gun in case he tries anything funny.

“Let her go, the rest of my crew, and my ship,” you demand.

He leans against the wood railing of his vessel with a relaxed grin. “We’ll let her go, and your ship if you hand over the princess.” He agrees easily.

You look around your ship of men and feel ice filling your veins. Yixing shakes his head desperately from where he stands among your younger crewmen. The fear on their faces is plain.

“Hurry up Captain. Before my kindness runs out,” Baekhyun calls across the water. “I know it’s not her.” Turning away from your men, you watch him pat the top of Yeri’s head with a pout on his face. His pout is exaggeratedly sad. “She’s too young, isn’t she? How old are you sweetie? 17?”

Bless her heart, Yeri manages the meanest look you’ve ever seen her give. It doesn't deter the man it’s directed at. “You don’t scare me, sorry sweetheart.”

There’s not much you can do. He has the upper hand here and you know that he’ll kill her easily if you refuse. Hell, he’ll probably blow the entire ship to bits for the fun of it if you don’t give him what he wants.

You inhale and exhale heavily, in defeat. You won’t risk the safety of your crew over this. His ship is larger and will do more damage in a fight if it came down to it. No matter how skilled your men are at combat… “How do I know you’re true to your word?”

“You have my word, as a pirate, as Captain, and as a man. If it eases your mind, we won’t bring you any harm…princess.” His eye locks on yours. You summon all the rage of the oceans into the glare that you send back.

“Fine.”

Junmyeon grabs your arm. “Captain-”

You shrug him off and turn to face your first mate. “Listen, you all know what to do in situations like this. This isn’t the first time I’ve been away from the ship. I’ll be fine, you’ll be fine. We’ll find each other again. Take care of everyone on my ship Junmyeon…they’re all I’ve got.” You grab his hand in yours and try to project strength and confidence. He squeezes yours in turn and nods solemnly at your words.

A plank is extended between your ships, and Yeri is unbound. With shaky steps, she walks across the way. “Don’t try anything funny!” he calls from the other ship.

“Fuck you!” you shout in return. Yeri collides with you in a hug as soon as she’s safely aboard your ship again.

“You don’t have to do this, you could- I could have stayed. You could have let me stay I-”

“No,” you tell her softly. You wipe away the tears on her cheeks and hold her face in your hands. “I have to do this. I won’t let them take you. You belong here.” You say with seriousness. You pat her head gently. “You all know what to do,” you tell your crew softly. “Arae.”

With a deep breath you make your way across the shaking board connecting your ships. The plank is retracted and cold iron is clapped around your wrists once you have made it on the deck of the ship Baekhyun captains.

Baekhyun keeps his eye trained on your ship. “Put her in the brig.” And without a beat more “Fire cannons Alpha and Beta,” he demands.

“NO! WAIT” You lurch forward to escape the hands holding you back. You fight and thrash against the two men tasked with restraining you. Cannons roar around you as you’re dragged below deck. You struggle harder, tears springing to your eyes at the sounds of cannons crashing into wood. At the sounds of your ship being torn apart. Wood splits and you watch in horror as your mainmast begins to collapse.

The last thing you see is the butt of a gun as it sends you into darkness.

~~~

The first thing you register once you’ve regained consciousness is the fact that you’re in a bed and not on the cold hard floor that’s expected of the brig of a ship.

The second thing is that you’re not in the brig at all, but in a bedroom. The Captain’s Quarter’s…you’d recognize it immediately it no matter the ship. It’s dark but you can’t tell if it’s night time or if the thick curtains are exceptionally good at blocking out the sun.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been knocked out. It probably wouldn’t be the last.

You quickly try to pull yourself together.

You pat down your body.

No weapons. Of course. And no irons? You bring your hands up to your face and stare in confusion at the lack of metal around your wrists. Stupid of them, you think.

Your muscles feel tight and heavy from lack of use. You can hear voices outside and pick up Baekhyun yelling at his men.

“Fuck.” You let your head fall back against the headboard of the bed with a thunk. You wince and bring your hand up to where you were hit earlier when you passed out. Bandages. You moan softly at the dull pain behind your eyes and close them. This doesn’t make sense. What is going on?

You’re not in the brig. Why the fuck not?

They bandaged you up. That's definitely a first.

You inhale and catch the smell of salt and meat. When you open your eyes you finally notice the plate on the table at your side. A plate of bread, dried meat, and an orange sit politely placed. It mocks you.

“A meal and bedroom in exchange for the lives of everyone on my crew and my fucking ship, he’s too kind,” you mutter sarcastically. You’re shaken from your darkening thoughts at the sound of the door opening.

You squint as light floods the room and a silhouette appears. You try to make out the figure.

The stowaway –no, Jongin.

As your vision clears, you see that he is holding a tray of medical supplies. He is backlit by a light that continues to blind you. He pauses when he realizes that you’re awake. His eyes widen minutely. With a glance behind himself, he appears to gather all his courage to enter the room. The door closes and you get your vision back. You blink away stars.

He sets the tray next to the untouched food, and you train your eyes on him as he looks at the food in disappointment. “It’s not poisoned…” he says sitting down at your side. “You’ve been out for nearly 24 hours, you must be hungry.”

“I’m not-” you rasp but are interrupted but the godless rumbling of your stomach. Your stomach that seems to be upset to have be reminded of its emptiness. Jongin smiles shyly at your side. You curse your stomach’s betrayal and the hoarseness of your own voice.

You look him from head to toe. He’s not freakishly buff but he looks as though he works out and has more strength in his muscles than his lean frame lets on. You wonder what your chances are if you manage to escape him and make a run for the door.

“Don’t think about it,” he warns. You pull your eyes off the door where you’d let your gaze land for a moment too long. “You could probably take me, but the room is guarded and we’re leagues away from land. You don’t have any of your weapons. You wouldn’t get very far,” he informs you matter-of-factly.

Is that right?

He watches you cautiously, and despite the warning, you decide to test your luck. You’ve wormed your way out of worse. Even if you don’t get far now, the least you could gain is a scope of the security and the number of men you’ll have to fight.

You reach over suddenly and shove Jongin and his chair to the ground. Your adrenaline begins to pump full force. You scramble out of the bed and out the door before anyone can yell or realize what you’ve done.

The afternoon sun hits your eyes like a laser beam and blinds you again as soon as you’re outside. You sprint blindly for a full 5 seconds before you’re tackled straight to the ground. You squirm and curse beneath what feels like two grown men.

All of their weight is placed on you as they manhandle your limbs. Your arms are harshly yanked behind your back and immediately clapped in cold iron. They shove your face against the dirty floor of the deck until you stop struggling. You give up after a minute when the dehydration, hunger, and lack of energy suddenly catch up to you. The adrenaline rush didn’t last as long as you’d hoped.

A pair of boots come into your view and stops inches from your face.

Baekhyun squats down, “I knew it was only a matter of time before you tried to escape. Idiot,” he spits. “Take her back to my chambers, keep her handcuffed.” The weight on your back lessens only slightly and you can take in a proper breath.

“What about her injuries Captain?” you hear Jongin’s worried voice.

Baekhyun looks up and then stands up to his full height, a solid few inches shorter than the other, but somehow making Jongin seem like the smaller of the two. “What about them?” His voice is cold and challenging.

Jongin looks down at the ground in submission. You blink until your vision stops swimming. The bodies finally lift and you’re dragged to your feet with more force than necessary. You stumble against their hold.

“I’ll deal with you in a minute,” Baekhyun hisses in your face. You squint against the light and scowl.

You’re taken back to his quarters and are released from your bonds only long enough for them to recuff them above your head to the metal headboard. You exhale heavily as the men leave you to yourself in the room.

“Fuckers…” you grumble. You groan at the different uncomfortable sensations that you suddenly feel all at once.

Maybe you didn't fully think this through. You’re starving, you’re thirsty, your head still hurts like a bitch, and you don't even have to energy to properly fight back.

And now you’re handcuffed to Baekhyun’s bed. Again.

Great.

You wiggle anxiously against the cuffs in an attempt to find a more comfortable position when Baekhyun enters the room. He grabs a chair, drags it across the room and sits in it backwards in the same spot Jongin found himself not even 10 minutes earlier.

His lips purse in a pout, as he looks from your bound hands down the length of your body. You jerk roughly against the cuffs in an attempt to bring his attention back to your face.

It works.

Disgust, rage, and something else fills your chest at the vaguely appreciative look he gives you.

He folds his arms over the back of the chair and rests his chin on them. A smirk slides in place. “And here I thought you’d be happy to be back in my bed,” he says coyly.

“Bite me.”

His smile widens and his pointy white canines grab your attention. You think back to the feeling of those teeth grazing against the skin on your neck as you let him fuck you once, twice, in countless dingy hotel rooms in Arae over the years. It’s always anything but kind, anything but sweet. You both sport bruises for days after and hate each other just as much, if not more, after sharing a bed as you did before.

You suppress a shiver and shake away the memories forcefully.

“I’d be happy too,” he chirps. “But, that’s only for good little girls who beg me nicely.” He taps the tip of your nose mockingly. You contemplate biting his finger clean off.

You shift in the handcuffs and catch him glance at your bound hands again. “Eye off the cuffs you freak.” He laughs and drops his gaze back to your face. “Why am I here instead of in the brig? I didn’t ask to be chained to your bed. Although, I’m sure you’re enjoying it.”

“The brig is for prisoners, and you, your majesty, are a princess after all. So, you get the royal suite.” He gestures grandly around the very average room. “The handcuffs are your own doing, you know that right?” he asks. He drags his finger along the space where the metal meets your wrist.

You roll your eyes. “So, what now? Are you planning on taking me to Atlantis?”

He sits up a bit straighter in his seat. “No, why would I do that when the bounty for you is worth at least 500,000 dollars. An additional 100 when I prove to them that you’re also the famed Captain of the Storm Chaser,” he derides.

“So you lied about knowing how to find Atlantis then?”

He shakes his head innocently. “I never said that. I know someone who knows how to find it. That doesn’t mean that I’m actually planning to go look for it. I could care less about some underwater city when the price for its little lost princess is so high.” He trails the back of his hand across your cheek.

You shake away his hand and scoff. “Oh come on. I know you’re curious about it,” you start. “That’s what drives you at the end of the day, right? Not money, not fame, no. You can get all of that easily. Without even trying.” He watches you cautiously. You lean closer to him. “Curiosity,” you whisper. “It’s your drive, keeps you awake at night, makes you go out of your way to collect information on anything and everything you can get your hands on because it kills you to not know about the things around you.

“Your curiosity…it’s a funny thing isn’t it?” You laugh. “People think you’re just some reckless hotheaded rebel desperate for attention, when you really just want to know about the world. About the ocean. About the people around you and what makes them tick. What excites them. What turns them on.” His expression darkens ever so slightly. “You’re desperate for information and I know that not knowing about Atlantis must kill you inside, no matter how you might try to convince me and yourself that it doesn’t.” You lower your voice to a whisper and watch in satisfaction as he catches himself leaning closer to you.

He clears his throat, leans back. “You aren’t going to be released trying to talk your way out of it like this. You know me better than that.”

You do. “I know. I wasn’t counting on it.” You hope your tone comes across as noncommittal. “I just want you to think about what you’re going to miss if you turn me in for the money without even trying to find Atlantis for yourself. The princess is the key to Atlantis, and Atlantis is the key to the sea right? I’ve heard the price for the return of the princess is even higher than that of what is being offered for her head.” You shrug.

He squints at you. “How much higher?”

“Triple,” you say with a smile. You know that you've got his attention and that his resolve is faltering. With the increase in money and his own curiosity, you know that it’s enough to temporarily get him on your side. Baekhyun isn’t as complicated a person as he likes to lead people to believe. You lean back against the headboard. “Besides, you’ve got the wrong person,” you add as an afterthought.

He blinks once and then laughs so loudly you startle in your spot. “Now you’re definitely just trying to save your own ass. That’s enough fantasy spinning for one day, don’t you think? Lying doesn’t suit you.” He stands up from his chair.

“What do you think is going to happen when whoever is paying you figures out that you’ve brought them a fake princess, huh? They’ll kill us both without a second thought and you know it!” he doesn’t stop to entertain you, making his exit. “All because you didn't take one second to figure out if I’ve been lying this whole time or not. Stupidity doesn’t suite you Baekhyunie!”

The door slams behind him.

Baekhyun is smart, sure, but he’s not immune to over thinking. You hope that you’ve managed to at least plant a seed of doubt in his mind. All you need is a single opportunity.

If he manages to believe you, he’ll most likely take you to his source. You’ll be able to tell then whether or not he was serious when he said he knew someone who can actually find it. You know things about Atlantis that he doesn’t. You can judge the new information for yourself as true or not.

If you can get that far...

The door to the room opens for the third time today and Jongin enters for the second. He walks in wordlessly and sits in the chair that Baekhyun previously occupied, after turning it around. He unravels the wrapping around your head gently, and discards it in a bin at his feet. You watch his face closely as he works.

He’s extremely attractive. Had you not been in this situation and literally captive aboard the ship he works, you could have seen yourself trying to get with him.

You flinch when the antiseptic touches what must be the open wound. He mutters out a soft, “I’m sorry” and the simple words wash over you like cold water. He works under Baekhyun, who is a total bastard and will die at your hands one day you swear to whatever God may be listening, but the kid hasn’t directly tried to hurt you.

As far as you can tell he’s nearly harmless. Hell, he went down with a single push when you attacked him. You wonder what his position is on the ship. First mate? Surgeon? Whatever he does, and no matter how harmless he may seem, you know not to let your guard down too much. To his caring words, however, you offer your own soft, “It’s okay.”

He catches your eyes, surprise brightening the pretty brown of his. He smiles slightly. “Watch my finger,” he instructs quietly.

You follow it with your eyes and try not to move your head. You know how this test goes. He hums, seemingly satisfied. “You’re not concussed, but you should still take it easy.” He glances at your cuffed and chaffing wrists. “As much as you can anyway,” he adds sadly.

You furrow your eyebrows in genuine confusion. Either he is a very very good actor, or he is in the wrong fucking profession. He’s too soft to be a pirate…but you also thought the same about Yixing when he asked to join your crew. You’re tempted to ask him about how he knows your quartermaster, but the words die on your tongue as he picks up the bread at your side and lifts it to your lips. He nudges it closer to your closed mouth, encouraging you to take a bite.

He sighs when you continue to stare at him like he’s insane. He breaks off a piece and eats it himself. “It’s fine. Kyungsoo made it yesterday.”

You hesitantly take a bite and feel a bit uncomfortable at the unadulterated joy he seems to get by watching you eat. You take a bite of everything he brings to your mouth. He silently feeds you and you silently eat and drink until everything is gone. “Thank you…” you mumble, a bit unaccustomed to the caring attention.

He smiles fully and his face lights up. He looks years younger. “You’re welcome.” He gathers the medical supplies and empty dishes, and with a final gentle smile and nod of his head he leaves you in silence once again.

#exo #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo fanfics #exo fanfiction #baekhyun #byun baekhyun #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun fanfiction #exo pirate au #baekhyun pirate au #exo story #exo stories #baekhyun story

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pocketseizure · 4 years ago

Text

Disneybound

Case #0180602. Statement of Ted Nakamura, regarding a strange experience at the Haunted Mansion attraction in Disneyland, California. Statement recorded directly from subject on June 2, 2018.

Jonathan takes the statement of someone whose memories may not accurately reflect the events of his childhood. He then has a short conversation with Martin and learns something (perhaps not so) surprising about Elias.

The events of this story take place after Episode 103, "Cruelty Free" (the one in which Jon reads the statement of a farmer in New Zealand with a monster pig).

( This story is also on AO3. )

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jon cast a level gaze at the American sitting on the other side of the table. He was fit and clean-shaven, and he appeared to be in his early thirties. He wore a wide grin and a bright red shirt depicting Minnie Mouse posing in front of the Eiffel Tower.

Jon sighed and pressed the record button of his tape recorder.

“Statement of Theodore Nakamura – ”

“Call me Ted, please. Or Teddy, if you like. All my friends do.”

“Ted Nakamura, regarding a strange phenomenon he experienced at the Haunted Mansion attraction in Disney World – ”

“Sorry, but it’s ‘Disneyland.’ Disney World is the one in Florida.”

“In Disneyland, California. Statement recorded directly from subject on May 25, 2018.”

“This is exciting! I love the detail you’ve devoted to authenticity. The tape recorder is a nice touch.”

Jon grimaced. “Statement begins.”

A hint of uncertainty crept into Ted’s smile. “I’ve never done this before. Is there a protocol? Maybe some sort of standard introduction I should start with?”

“Just tell me about the incident you came to report. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

“All right, I’ll start at the beginning.”

Ted clapped his hands on his knees and took a deep breath. Jon watched as his eyes made a brief circuit around the densely packed shelves arranged in disorderly rows at the rear of the room before finally coming to rest on one of the objects jammed between the accordion folders and cardboard boxes. He’d witnessed this process often enough that he could pinpoint the object of the man’s attention – a cloudy snow globe with a tarnished metal base. It wasn’t connected to any of the cases on file in the archives, merely something Gertrude had brought back from one of her travels on a whim.

“I guess you could say that I’m not the sort of person who would be the star of a Disney movie,” Ted began. “I’m not an orphan, and I had a happy childhood. My mother was an architect who moved from San Francisco to Los Angeles during the construction boom of the 1980s, and my father went to business school at UCLA and never left. His family is from Seattle, and they made some money in real estate in the 1990s. We’re comfortably middle class, but I went to one of the big public schools in Orange County.”

He paused, seeming to expect some sort of reaction. When it became clear that no such reaction was forthcoming, he continued.

“Even in LA, where everyone tries to stand out, high school was all about belonging to a group. I didn’t have any interest in the grandstanding of my school’s Gay-Straight Alliance, and I didn’t have the looks or the talent for the student theater club, which is where a lot of kids like me spent a year or two on their way out of the closet. Mostly I kept my grades up and my head down as my circle of friends from middle school gradually went their separate ways.

“My mom worked from home, and she made sure our house had the first high-speed internet connection in my neighborhood. I don’t mind admitting that I spent a lot of time online. I posted an embarrassing number of bad stories about cartoon characters on LiveJournal, and I eventually ended up being invited to join a popular Disney fan community moderated by a friend of a friend. All the people I spoke with on the comm were strangers, at least at first, but we gradually got to know one another as we responded to each other’s posts and comments.

“Between one thing and another, we somehow managed to figure out that most of us were the same age. Oddly enough, a lot of us lived in SoCal, so we decided to meet up over the summer at Disneyland. Everyone showed up, and we had a great time. We met again the next summer, and then again after my senior year.

“Nothing bad happened, but I stopped updating my LiveJournal after that. I went to college in New York, got a job in the city, and fell out of touch with most of my online friends.

“I moved back to LA four years ago, not that I do anything glamorous. I manage the back end of a tech company’s website and intranet, mostly database stuff, but I still have an IG account. I started it just for fun, but I joined early and picked up more than a thousand followers in less than a year. Someone suggested that it would be cool for me to visit to Disneyland and post photos, so I thought, why not? Like, I love Disneyland!”

Jon cleared his throat. “And what is this ‘strange incident’ you came to report?”

“Hold your horses, I’m getting to it. It’s important that you know my background, right? What I’m trying to say is that I’d only been to Disneyland three times before. It wasn’t a major part of my life. But it was a good part of my life – that’s important.”

Jon nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well, then. Duly noted.”

“Disneyland was considered to be a little seedy when I was in high school, but it’s gotten fancy in the past ten years or so. It used to be that you could just walk in, but these days you practically have to make an itinerary. So I did some research, got a group of people together, and we went and saw the sights. Everyone wore an outfit to match the style of a character, and we took a lot of pictures. The photos were so popular that I hit 5k followers in less than 24 hours, can you believe it? Everyone and their sister is into DisneyBounding these days, but picking up that sort of following from on-location fashion photos was still a thing you could do in 2015.

“Like I said, I had a happy childhood, but no one ever paid me that sort of attention. It was such a dopamine hit, you have no idea. Or maybe you do?”

Jon grit his teeth. “Please continue with the statement.”

Ted laughed. “Pushy, aren’t you? But that’s all right. It’s weird, but I feel like I can tell you anything. Has anyone ever said that to you before?”

“You’re not the first.”

“Maybe it’s the librarian thing you’ve got going on – or archivist thing, sorry. Puts me right at ease. And I appreciate that. If there’s an adult who willingly goes to Disneyland for fun, especially someone like me, people tend to think that’s creepy. The therapist I was seeing at the time called it ‘Peter Pan Syndrome,’ of all things. I never went to another appointment with her again, but that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to say is that I kept going back to Disneyland, usually with friends but sometimes with my boyfriend, who I met on Insta. We bonded while sharing theories about the Haunted Mansion, which is… Well, it used to be my favorite ride in the park. It still is, I guess, but I can’t go on it anymore.

“It took me long enough to get here, but this is the part of my story that should interest you. The reason I like the Haunted Mansion is because it reminds me of my mother, who passed away from a heart attack while I was living in New York. It was very sudden, completely out of the blue, and I never got to say good-bye. I never cared about the Haunted Mansion when I was in high school – we all thought it was cringe for some silly teenage reason that probably involved how awkward it would be if we were in the dark with each other. It wasn’t until I visited the park again as an adult that I finally went on the ride. When I did, I had this sudden flashback to a childhood memory.

“I must have gone to Disneyland with my parents when I was young, because standing in the dark and listening to the music made me recall being on the ride with my mother. This was during the lead-up, before you get in the Doom Buggies and begin the ride proper. I remember being absolutely terrified by what I thought was an endless maze. I felt like that line, after it entered the building, lasted forever. Kids can be like that sometimes, but my memory of this is crystal clear – the corridor genuinely didn’t end. I felt like there were people all around us, there had to be, but somehow it was just me and my mother, alone in the darkness.

“And then I remember that this terrible thing appeared out of nowhere. I’m not sure how to describe it. It definitely wasn’t a person in a costume, but it was too realistic to be the projection of a cartoon, and it was talking to us in voice that sounded like laughter and crying at the same time. Like it was hurt, but it found its pain amusing. Meanwhile, the walls kept stretching, and as they got taller I started to see awful things in the gaps between the ceiling and the floor.

“My mother held my hand the whole time. She kept whispering to me: ‘It’s going to be okay. You are brave, and you are strong. Nothing in here can hurt you.’ Just that, over and over, until the ride was over.

“When we finally got out, I ran straight to my dad, who knelt down on the pavement on the other side of the gate and hugged me. He and my mother both patted my back as I cried. I was so relieved to be outside again that my tears wouldn’t stop.

“My dad seemed confused by how afraid I was. This didn’t occur to me until I started thinking about it much later, but isn’t it strange that he didn’t understand why a young child would be frightened by a scary ride?

“I moved back to LA almost immediately after my mom’s funeral, but Dad became a little distant with me. We were both grieving, and it must have seemed callous to him that I was posting shots of myself at Disneyland on social media right after Mom died. Really I just needed a break from the move, from my job, from mourning, from everything – and I guess a part of me felt like my mother would never die as long as I kept returning to that memory of her holding my hand in the Haunted Mansion.

“My dad eventually moved on and married a younger woman. She would probably be my evil stepmother if my life were a Disney movie, but she’s actually a princess, and I adore her. I spend more time with her than I do with my dad these days, but I’m trying to do better. I thought I could reconnect with him if I took him along with me on a visit to the park, but he turned down my invitation. He told me he enjoyed my photos, but that he had never been to Disneyland and had no interest in going. Too many screaming children, he said.

“That was a surprise to me, so I told him about my memory of the Haunted Mansion. While I was talking, his face went completely pale. I don’t mean that as a figure of speech – it was like all the blood had been drained from his skin.

“He insisted that he had never been to Disneyland with me and my mother, but then he told me something strange. When I was about five years old, we went to visit his family in Seattle. My grandfather had just taken on management of a property in Capitol Hill, one of the old Gothic Revival mansions that used to be common there before the neighborhood gentrified. It was an old house, almost as old as the city itself, but my grandfather was having trouble finding potential buyers. The property had been designed by the student of a famous British architect by the name of Robert Smirke, and he wanted my mother to come take a look. Do a walkthrough, point out any potential areas of interest and value, that sort of thing.

“According to my father, my mother had a bad experience in that house. She refused to talk about it with him or anyone else, and she never went back to Seattle. She took me along with her on her tour of the property, and I was apparently just as upset as she was when we came out, even though my dad says we spent less than ten minutes inside. If I thought this place was the Haunted Mansion, and if the ride at Disneyland evoked such a strong memory, it makes me wonder – what did we see in that house?

“I checked with my grandfather, and he said the property never did find a buyer. The only person who seemed seriously interested was a British woman by the name of Gertrude Robinson. Shortly after she made inquiries, the place burned down. Imagine my surprise when I ran a search and learned that this Gertrude Robinson was employed by an institute dedicated to paranormal research.

“So,” Ted concluded, meeting Jon’s eyes, “I gave you my statement. I hope it will be useful to you. I was wondering what you could tell me in return.”

“Not much, I’m afraid. As you can see, we’re still in the process of organizing our records. We’ll investigate to the best of our abilities and contact you if we learn anything.”

“I would love that, thank you. Well, you have my information so…”

“We’ll be in touch. I believe I see my assistant Melanie hovering around. She used to have a large following on social media herself. I’m sure she’d be happy to show you outside.”

“So you’re from LA,” Jon heard Melanie say as she held the door open. Ted directed his dazzling smile at her, which she returned before allowing the door to slam shut behind them.

“Statement ends,” Jon muttered as listened to their conversation growing fainter. He ended the recording and leaned back in his chair.

“Any thoughts you’d like to share, Martin?”

“Oh, I, um,” Martin stammered. “I didn’t want to interrupt the, you know. The statement.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he emerged from between the shelves.

“It’s fine, Martin. It was a relief. To know that you were listening.”

“I’m sorry, I… What? It was?”

“I’ve never been good with people like that.”

“People like… Wait, excuse me?”

“People who are so…” Jon made a vague gesture to illustrate his point. “Sunny. Bright. Content. When someone comes here to make a statement, they’re usually upset.”

“Ah, right. I can see what you mean. But he looks like he just got back from a trip to the happiest place on earth.”

“The happiest place on earth?”

“You know, Disneyland Paris.”

“Disneyland Paris? They finished construction?”

“A few decades ago, actually.”

Jon sympathized with Ted Nakamura’s father. Between the crowds and the relentless sunshine, he couldn’t imagine a more ghastly location, and by this point he considered himself something of an expert on cursed geography.

“I don’t suppose we’ll have to go there ourselves to investigate,” he said, making an attempt to smile. He failed. His muscles were still tense from the process of taking a statement, and his face felt frozen.

“Really? You… want to go to Disneyland Paris? I suppose I could come too, I mean, if it’s not…”

Jon was alarmed by how red Martin’s face was becoming. Did Martin want to go to a theme park? Jon didn’t know much about Disneyland – or Paris, for that matter – but his childhood had been unusual, to say the least. He’d never asked, but Martin’s family couldn’t have been much if he had nowhere to sleep but down here in the archives. Perhaps he could use a vacation. Perhaps they both could.

Jon turned to face his assistant. “Martin, I…”

“Did someone say Disneyland Paris?”

Jon frowned. “Does this conversation interest you, Elias?”

“I heard you were planning a trip. You really must go sometime. It’s fantastic, quite the experience. I went myself, back in 1996.”

Elias made a quick series of taps on the screen of his phone before holding it out in front of him. Jon and Martin leaned forward to get a better look.

In the photo, Elias was posing next to someone wearing a Mickey Mouse costume. He wore an aloha shirt over denim shorts, and he was grinning from ear to ear. The camera had caught him in the act of pulling a tall man with a square jaw and a severe expression into the frame. The image quality was poor, but the man seemed far too pale for the summer sunshine.

Jon’s frown deepened. “And that is…?”

“Oh, this is Peter. You’ll meet him soon enough, I’m sure.”

“Do you, um. Do you go to Disneyland often, then?” Martin asked.

“Just the once. Peter lost a bet, you see.”

“Right.” Jon couldn’t put his finger on it, but he had a bad feeling about this.

“I wouldn’t mind going back. We could all go together, make an office party of it. It would be fun. You do know what fun is, don’t you, Archivist?”

Martin’s eyes darted between Elias and Jon. “I don’t think it’s safe to…”

“Come now,” Elias interrupted. “Would you have any reason not to?”

“China.”

“Excuse me?”

“China. I need to follow up on a statement, something Gertrude was looking into before she traveled to New Zealand.”

“Excellent. I’m glad that’s settled. I’ll leave you to your preparations, then.”

“Damn it.” Jon clenched his fists on the table as Elias left. A trap had been set, and he’d walked right into it.

“Don’t feel bad,” Martin said, oddly perceptive. After everything they’d been through, Jon was coming to appreciate that about him. “At least we know that Elias is still human. He likes Disneyland, after all.”

Jon wasn’t convinced that a fondness for theme parks qualified someone as being ‘human,’ but what would he know? He had to admit that Elias was right about one thing – it would do him good to get out of the archives.

“Are you really going to China, then?”

“I suppose I am.” Jon removed his glasses and rubbed his forehead.

“I’ve always wanted to go someplace like that, somewhere far away,” Martin said, his eyes darting to the tape recorder on the table. “I’d like to hear about it. If you don’t… If you don’t mind, of course. Maybe I could, I mean, we could go out for a coffee together. After you get back.”

“All right,” Jon replied, replacing his glasses. That would be rather nice, actually. “After I get back.”

#The Magnus Archives #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #Elias Bouchard #Haunted Mansion #full episode format #canon compliant #ghost stories #my fic

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ograndebatata · 4 years ago

Text

After The Storm

So... if I had to guess, this must be some sort of very absurd record.

Explaining a bit better what I mean, I wrote this for the weekly challenge in the EoA Discord server, for the prompts ‘Future’ and ‘Dancing’.

Needless to say, it’s beyond late, and I honestly don’t know how well it meets either of those prompts.

But I liked it enough to want to finish it and post it... so here it is.

I hope you like it.

Note: Like the bulk of my Elena of Avalor fics, this one is set in my Tales of the Ever Realm AU. However, in this particular fic, I feel there isn’t anything glaringly incompatible with canon, so I think it can be read blind ‘fairly well’. Again, I tried my best to make it strong enough to stand on its own, but readers will tell me if I succeeded.

Note #2: I don’t own the lyrics to the song ‘Once Upon a Dream’ used below. They belong to their respective creators, just as the Elena of Avalor main universe and any elements you recognize from it belong to their respective creators.

With this said, please check below the cut for the actual ficlet.

///

After The Storm

In the Kingdom of Aravallia, February 19th, Year 9147 of the Ever Realm Calendar...

Trying to hold back the concerned frown that tugged at his face, Fiero strode fluidly through the beach’s wet sand, his tamborita thrust out before him as it sent an invisible magical ripple across the sand to clear a trail through the leaves and twigs and other bits of litter that had been blown across the sand by the previous night’s weather. Some might call him squeamish, but he wasn’t in the mood to keep flinching whenever he stepped on something sharp with bare feet, and the only other person around to see what he was doing wouldn’t think poorly of him if she saw him.

Which she didn’t. Because she wasn’t facing him. Like she had been about half an hour ago, Gracia was staring into the horizon as she stood by the water’s edge, her long black hair flowing in the wind, the pink wrap and yellow sundress she wore contrasting against her dark skin as they undulated around her, the dress' hem swaying around her legs and flapping against her tamborita, which she held in her left hand.

From a distance, she’d seem alright to a casual observer. But Fiero had always been perceptive. Even two years ago, when he first met Gracia, he had been able to tell she was different from all other malvagos he had met. If he had seen her like this back then, he would have been able to tell how sad she was in the way her head hung slightly, in the edge of a slump to her shoulders. Now that he and Gracia had grown so close, had learned to read each other like written pages, she wouldn’t be able to trick him even if she wanted to, just like he knew he knew was true with him regarding her.

Of course, neither would try it by now. Even before they had come to an understanding, they had barely been able to treat each other like threats. Now that they had grown so close, neither would even consider trying anything underhanded towards the other.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Gracia’s shoulders briefly rose, then dropped again, her body shuddering in what seemed like a deep sigh. Again, Fiero’s face itched to shift into a concerned frown, joined by a weight in his chest and a shiver that washed over him as the wind briefly picked up, no doubt aided by the large cloud that kept blocking the sun, even though most of the others had cleared away to reveal a pristine morning sky.

Perhaps leaving her alone while I made breakfast wasn't the best idea. He thought.

A slight pang sank into his heart at the thought. He had meant well when he did so - he’d only wanted to give her a warm meal to enjoy when she came back - but now that she had stayed outside for so long, not to mention wearing only a dress in this weather, he started to get worried. While he did want to respect the fact she might want to be alone, he also didn’t want to leave her in pain without trying to comfort her. He knew from personal experience that having no support when one was in pain was not pleasant.

To put it mildly. He thought, the old scars from all the times that had happened to him briefly flaring up.

The breeze picked up around him, stronger, chillier, sending a second shiver through him before it settled down again. No doubt, his white t-shirt and light grey trousers weren’t the best outfit to shield him from this weather, especially with the latter pulled up to mid-calf. Gracia had to be feeling it even more, standing barefoot in the surf with the occasional wave washing over her feet and ankles, but she didn’t even flinch. Either she withstood it better than him, or she was so lost in her thoughts she didn’t even notice.

Yes, she had her wrap over her dress, and could use her tamborita to cast a spell to warm herself if she needed, and even without it she was powerful and skilled enough to use her magic to do so. But still, he couldn't help but worry.

Don't be like that. He told himself. She's an adult woman who's about as powerful a malvago as you. She can take care of herself.

His concern didn't fade. He knew that was all true, and he also knew he couldn't be consumed by worry all the time, but he couldn't just not worry to any degree, especially when he knew she was hurting.

The ground under his feet suddenly became even colder, an edge of actual wetness meeting his skin as he stepped onto the sand by the water's edge. He lowered his tamborita and retracted his magic; there was no litter to clear away here. The weight in his chest grew as he got a close look at Gracia, clutching her wrap to her with her right hand, the pain and sadness she emanated ever more visible, as if he was approaching a campfire.

In a way, it was expected, for lack of a better term. Gracia was only human, and life hadn’t been kind to her recently. But it being expected didn’t make him feel better. The idea of her being in pain cut him up inside like a row of knives. Gracia had already been dealt far too much suffering; she didn’t need any more.

And yet, life kept giving her further helpings of it.

It’s not fair. Fiero thought, pain cutting through his heart as he finally got close enough to see her violet eyes, glistening with unshed tears. It’s just not fair.

The urge to rush over and wrap his arms around Gracia came over him. He pushed it back and stopped, then cleared his throat, careful to be loud enough to be heard over a distance.

She started as if she was coming out of a trance, her tamborita swaying slightly with her movement.

“Fiero?” she asked as she turned to face him, showing him that, instead of the heavier makeup she wore with her malvaga outfit, she had chosen a more subdued look to go with the sundress. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you up when I left?”

Before he could answer, she blinked, her eyes briefly widening. He guessed she had somehow noticed how much time had passed. So whether she’d noticed the chill or not, she had indeed been lost in her thoughts.

The concerned frown pulled at his face yet again. Pushing it back, he smiled, closed the gap between them.

“Don’t worry, you didn’t,” he reassured, running the backs of his fingers from her cheekbone to her chin. “And even if you had, you wouldn’t need to apologize,” he added as he reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

He said nothing else as he slid his hand away from her ear, cupping Gracia’s cheek. A hint of light returned to her eyes, her lips curling upwards as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. Then, she stepped closer to him, stretching up a bit. Mirroring her motion, Fiero leaned down, his lips meeting hers, their mouths lingering together before they drew apart.

Then, as he straightened himself, her nose scrunched up, her right eyebrow arching.

The shift in expression working as well as a verbal question, Fiero explained. “Breakfast is ready.”

Her eyebrow arched another fraction, her nose scrunching up again. “What is it?”

“Misto quente,” he replied, caressing her cheek again. “Your favorite.” His need to be specific protesting in the back of his mind, he added, “It’s a bit different from the one made in Paraiso, but it's the best I could do with what’s sold in Aravallia.”

Her smile widened slightly.

“I’m sure it’s delicious.”

Despite her words, she made no move to walk back to their cottage, or any kind of move, other than letting her mouth fall back into a frown.

The weight on his chest seeming to turn into a crack on his heart, Fiero moved his hand down and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. For a moment, her eyebrows knit together as if she was deciding what to do. Then magic flowed out of her right hand and into her wrap, two of its corners twistingly themselves together into a knot. Once the garment was secure around her shoulders, she switched her tamborita to her right hand and settled her left arm around his back. Wordlessly, Fiero drew her into him, her full figure settling against his lean profile as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

A wave washed over their feet. Fiero flinched in surprise, but no shiver came over him, the water somehow warmer than the air.

“If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen to every word,” he whispered into her hair.

Her left arm curled around his torso, her cheek shifting with her deepening frown, the change conveyed even through his t-shirt.

“Is there really anything I can say?” she murmured, snuggling her cheek into his shoulder.

He kissed her hair. “I understand if there isn't."

She curled her fingers more tightly over his side, a long exhale mixed with a pained whimper flowing from her. Again, Fiero kissed her hair. A softer, calmer sigh flowed from her, her form relaxing slightly against his’.

For a while, they stood in silence, the quietude broken only by the hushed murmurs of the breaking waves and the occasional caws of seabirds.

Then, Gracia found her voice.

“I suppose there really isn’t anything to say.” She took a breath, the sound telling Fiero she was either considering if there was anything to say after all or if she wanted to say it to begin with. “I just… I'm just still having trouble taking it all in. I’ve known my family was not very family-like for a long time, but that it has people who would go as far as they did…” She fell silent, her fingers loosening against him. “It's just... difficult to deal with.”

Fiero didn’t say anything. He simply kept his arm around Gracia’s shoulders.

“I admit that, in a sense, it shouldn’t be so shocking,” Gracia went on. “I’ve been a malvaga for over seventeen years. And I've met plenty of rotten people even before I was a malvaga. And I’ve seen my share of families who don’t act like families at all. And yet…”

She trailed off, briefly tensing up against him as if forcefully holding back the memories of the unpleasant discovery she had made. Fiero drew her even further into him, his other hand curling more tightly around his tamborita’s handle.

“I’m sorry you got such a short end of the stick when it comes to family,” he breathed. “And that you learned what those four are like in the way you did.”

Again, she curled her fingers over his side, her left hand running up and down his ribcage. “Don’t be. It’s better that I got to know. At least now I definitely won’t hold any illusions that things could have been different. Not with the four of them anyway.” She paused again, a shaky breath flowing out of her. “Still…”

Again, the words died in her mouth, her hand loosening again. Another wave washed over their feet, covering them up to their ankles. This time, it was followed by another stronger gust of chilly wind, the ambience around them darkening a fraction, as if the weather itself had decided to try and make them shiver. Neither of them blinked.

“You don’t need to explain,” Fiero soothed. He slid his hand from her shoulders and caressed up and down her back. “These things are always difficult to deal with. Especially when they happen to us personally.”

Again, Gracia didn’t give a verbal response, but the way she leaned against him, tired and drained while at the same time tense, spoke for her well enough.

“I can’t help but be shocked also,” he went on. “I’ve been a malvago for almost thirty years, I ran into plenty of nasty bastards even when I was a wizard, and I got to see firsthand how charming your family is, even before everything happened. Still, to learn what those four wanted to do to you...”

He cut himself off, an invisible foot suddenly kicking him. He’d gone more than far enough.

“Point is, if I feel like this, I can only imagine how you feel,” he finished.

Another deep, tired sigh flowed out of Gracia’s mouth. Then, he felt her shifting against him as her cheek left his chest and her arm pulled away from him. Looking down, his green eyes met her violet ones, the crack in his heart growing at the sheer pain within them.

“You know the worst part?”

Fiero curled his eyebrow in a silent question.

A briefer tired breath leaving her mouth, she replied, “On how I said it shouldn't be so shocking… In a way, it actually isn't shocking at all, considering what they have always been like. Looking back on it, the writing was always on the wall. I really should have known their natures from the beginning, rather than held any hopes about them.”

Another sigh crawled out of her, slow and heavy as if she was trying to exhale wet clay. Pain flared up in his chest as if both halves of his heart were being pushed apart. A lump started to settle in the back of his throat. He gulped to force it back, curled his arm more tightly around Gracia as he kissed her hair again.

“Don’t blame yourself,” he whispered. “ It’s not on you.”

Her gaze shifted towards the sand at his words, self-reproach all too plain in her eyes. The pain in his own chest throbbed harder. A wave ran over their feet once more.

"Please, look at me,” Fiero begged, his voice thick from the effort he was making to keep it calm and soothing, rather than filled with all the anger he felt towards Gracia’s so-called family.

Slowly, Gracia’s eyes turned up to his, pain roiling in their depths more intensely than ever before, just as the landscape around them seemed to grow darker once more, as if a thicker layer of cloud cover had just gotten before the sun. Carefully, Fiero brought his other hand up and, stretching his fingers as well as he could without losing his grip on his tamborita, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s not on you,” he repeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You tried to follow their values as well as you could without compromising your own, you tried to step into their shoes time and again, you tried to give them the benefit of doubt multiple times, to believe there could be a sliver of kindness hidden deep within them, to help them when they needed even though they never showed a sliver of gratitude for, and yet all of them treated you like dirt.”

A reminder flaring in the back of his mind, he added as he lowered his hand, “Well, almost all. But most of them treated you like dirt. And those four monsters actually started plotting to have you killed just so they’d get their hands on your money. And yet when their plot was discovered, they tried to beg for mercy by appealing to the fact they’re family!”

He winced as he suddenly realized his voice had started to slip into a shout. He knew Gracia knew him well enough to understand he wasn’t angry at her, but he still didn’t want to further upset her by raising his voice.

Nevertheless, he seemed to have built up enough bile that he couldn’t avoid rolling his eyes and adding, “It’s beyond belief. They try to frame you for murder so you’ll be hanged and then say they’re family the moment they realize you found out their plot.” A sharp scoff blasted out of him. “Family, my…” Catching himself as he realized the word he was about to utter, he said instead, blood rushing to his cheeks, “Well, my that certain body part which is located on the side directly opposite to my front side, on the region right below my waist.”

A bout of laughter bubbled out of Gracia, a happy glow blooming in her eyes. Though his cheeks kept blazing, Fiero smiled at the sound, feeling every muscle in his body loosening from it.

“Are you sure your phrasing was verbose enough?” Gracia drawled once her laughter faded, her smooth contralto a fraction deeper and huskier than usual. “You might have been able to add two or three more sentences to that description.”

Unsure of what to say, Fiero could only shrug, though none of the defensiveness from his youth flared up within him. With Gracia, he always knew that when she teased him or poked fun at him, she did not mean to offend or hurt him.

“Well, what I said was specific enough already, I figure,” he said in an affected nonchalant tone, the red in his cheeks fading.

A mirthful spark in her eyes, her smirk shifted into a tender smile as she briefly curled her fingers around his side again, running a brief caress over his ribs.

His voice calmer, Fiero went on, “Point is, they were just rotten, period. And they were beyond lucky that they not only lived to see another day but didn't even end up in prison. If they still want to be dirtbags rather than try to better themselves, it’s on them, not on you.”

Gracia’s smirk returned, though this time it didn’t reach her eyes. Knowing what was on her mind, he added, an edge of tension creeping into his voice, “Not those four in particular. 'Greedy heartless monsters' would be more appropriate for them. 'Dirtbags' is a label for your other relatives.” The same reminder from before flaring up again, he added, “Other than Esha and Anjali and Lavanya. And their husbands and children, as far as I can tell. But that still leaves literal dozens of people in your family who are…”

This time, he was the one trailing off, his mind drawing a blank on a word good enough to refer to the kind of people most of Gracia’s relatives were. Still, her arm slipped down to his waist as her face fell.

“I know.”

The weight over his heart returning, Fiero pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

He knew he was repeating himself, but he meant what he said now as much as he did before.

He felt her face leaning away from his shoulder, though her arm moved up to rest over his ribs once more. He looked down; their gazes met again.

“It's alright,” she replied. “You did nothing wrong either. You don't need to apologize.”

A long sigh washed out of him. He drew her back into him, as she let her head rest on his shoulder again.

"I only wish I could actually do something about this."

///

Hearing the sorrow in his voice, Gracia leaned up and put a kiss to Fiero's cheek, briefly pressing her hand to his side as she did so, feeling the breeze blowing over them both.

She knew he meant what he said, but she'd never dream of asking him to do more than he already did.

He looked out for her well being, he tried to help her to the best of his abilities, he listened to her when she wanted to talk, he always respected her boundaries, and he was there for her.

That was all she could ask him to do.

She knew him wanting to do more for her meant that he cared, but she also knew that there were things he just could not do. All magic had its limits, and malvago magic in particular was very limited when it came to things unrelated to destruction. Having been a malvaga for as long as she had, Gracia knew that from personal experience. And even ignoring those limits, there were lines that no person with a sliver of decency and humanity crossed, and Fiero had much more than a sliver of either.

It was more than she could say of many people she had met, including some who claimed to be paragons of virtue, only to turn out nastier than some fairy tale villains.

Like ‘those four’ as Fiero had labeled them. They claimed to walk the path of righteousness, to follow the values of old, and then they had tried to have her killed, and for such a mercenary reason to boot.

Not that any reason would have been good, but doing it only because they wanted her money to add it to their very much not-paltry fortune… It was just… it was just beyond low.

Don’t think about that anymore. An inner voice tried to insist. It’s not worth it. They're not worth it.

A knot materializing in her chest at the thought, she took a deep breath, mentally pushing back the remains of the whirlwind within her as if the air she took in would do the job. Not thinking about them was easier said than done, especially after what they had done to her.

Having taken the deepest breath she could, she released, willing herself to let it out calm and slow, yet with purposefulness flowing through her. As the air rushed out of her, Fiero rubbed his shoulder over her wrap, pressing his lips to her hair once more, his embrace tightening a bit again.

‘It's alright.’ She read in his touch, even through the fabric. ‘Take all the time you need.’

Turning her head slightly upwards once more, she gave him another smile. The corners of his mouth curled upwards in response as he rubbed another circle over her shoulder.

Her smile widening, she closed her eyes as she took another breath, slightly faster and shallower than the last, but still allowing the salty air to flow into her lungs, to mentally will what she could only call its ‘calming essence’ to flow through her being. Just as she let it out, the breeze around her softened, grew warmer, everything around them and their own bodies seeming to lighten a few shades, the sun finally peeking through the clouds. Another wave washed up the beach, moving past them until it rose past their ankles. Then, as it retreated, it seemed to take yet another bit of her inner turmoil with her, the knot in her chest softening further.

A small sigh trickling out of her, Gracia nestled her head into Fiero’s shoulder, pressing her hand to his side once. Thinking about something else might be easier said than done, but it was better to do it than dwell on what those four had done just for the sake of it. And a good way to start thinking about something else was to start talking about something else.

Fortunately, while enjoying each other's company in silence was not a problem for them, finding things to talk about wasn't either.

Her gaze met his’ as she spoke up.

“Speaking of doing, is there anything you'd like to do once we get to Bansagubat? Other than following up on the lead we found on the Scepter of Night, I mean?”

He blinked at her question, confusion flickering in his gaze. She knew without having to ask that he'd found her change of subject sudden. But she also knew that he'd go along with it as long as her attempt at not dwelling on the recent events didn't fail.

Sure enough, his brow furrowed into the focused look he often assumed when he was in deep thought, though he didn't bring up his left hand to hold its thumb and forefinger to his chin, due to the tamborita he held.

“I don't think so,” he replied after some time. “At least for now. I don't know enough about Bansagubat to have an idea of what to do there.” He cocked his head to the side, curling an eyebrow. “What about you, mi alma? Is there anything you'd like to do?"

He punctuated his second question with a knowing grin, telling her he'd guessed the basics of her answer.

Gracia smirked in response. He did know her well...

“Indeed there is, mi amado,” she replied, her voice a fraction lower and slower again.

His knowing grin widened a fraction.

"Any chance I can know exactly what it is?"

Gracia started opening her mouth to reply, but the teasing tune she was mustering faded like a snuffed candle as she realized a few things.

"I'd tell you if I knew, but I'm not sure yet myself. It will depend on how long we stay there, and on where we have to go to find our next clue, if it even exists to begin with."

Her eyes narrowed into a glare at the thought, Fiero's expression mirroring hers, both recalling how many fake clues on the Scepter of Night’s whereabouts there seemed to exist throughout the world.

“But there are quite a few dancing festivals in Bansagubat, at many places and at many times of the year," Gracia went on before her mind could start wandering down another bad path. "I’d like to be able to go to a few. Or then take a few classes on the local dances, if I find any. Maybe do both things, if we find the time.”

Her chest seemed to grow lighter as she went on, a familiar giddiness rushing through her at that line of thought. She had only been to Bansagubat once, and the stay had been too brief for her to do much of anything, but she had read about the kingdom, and, more relevantly to her tastes, about its dances. It was true that seeing drawings and reading descriptions on the written page didn’t compare to the real thing by any means, but the authors had been good enough that she could join the picture and the text to somewhat visualize what the real dances were like. And even if she hadn’t, she had always liked learning new dances, and Bansagubat had plenty that she wanted to learn.

A faint shift in Fiero’s face brought her back to reality - his knowing grin had become a fond one, no doubt at the view of the joy she felt bubbling within her and which she now realized had spilled over onto her features.

That was one of the things she loved about him. While she knew he didn’t hate dancing per se, she also knew he wasn’t particularly fond of it. But he still wholeheartedly loved seeing her so happy doing something she loved, and was genuinely happy to do it with her just because it made her happy.

“I don’t see us staying at Bansagubat for less than several months,” he said. “I think we’ll find the time for that." He pursed his lips shut, as if struck by a sudden thought. "Or, if you’d rather I did so, I can also read up on Tolome’s treasure on my own while you have your dance classes and we read up on it together whenever you’re not in class or practicing.”

He winced right after he spoke, as if he thought he’d just put his foot in his mouth with his suggestion. Giving him a comforting smile, Gracia shifted around so that she now stood before him, her hand flowing from around his back to rest on his shoulder, on cue with another wave washing over their feet. The landscape seemed to grow a few more shades around them, though this time the breeze strengthened for a moment, as if unsure of whether to let up or intensify.

“I get what you mean,” she told him. “And I don’t mind going to classes for some of those dances on my own. But we find classes for some others, I confess I was hoping you’d come with me.” Suddenly afraid of how her words might be taken, she added, “But I will accept if you don’t.”

She punctuated her sentence with a calm smile to reinforce her words, meaning it from the bottom of her heart. She would indeed like it if Fiero went to classes for those specific dances with her, but she wouldn’t try to force him to if he really didn’t want to. Even before her time with her family, she knew how awful it was to be forced into things one didn’t want to do.

At first, Fiero’s forehead crinkled in puzzlement. Gracia knew without asking that he was wondering what kind of dances she might want him to go along on. But then, his warm smile returned as he raised his now free hand to rest it on her cheek, running a slow, tender caress over it.

“I’ll go with you,” he whispered. “Whatever the kind of dances you’re talking about, as long as you want me to go with you, I will.”

Gracia’s smile widened a bit further, her whole being suddenly lightening. It might be the kind of line too easily uttered, but again, she knew just from his tone and expression that Fiero was doing it willingly, because he knew it would make her happy. The fact he hadn’t even asked what dances she was talking about only reinforced it.

She snapped out of her thoughts as a hint of a scowl returned to Fiero’s face, as if something had just reminded him of an unpleasant memory.

A frown replacing her smile, she asked, "What’s the matter?"

Putting his smile back in place, Fiero reached down and held her hand in his’, raising it up until it was level with their chests.

“Nothing serious,” he soothed. “Just a few bad memories of the last time I had dance classes.”

Gracia’s eyes opened a bit wider, a mix of amazement and realization pricking at her.

“So you did have dance classes…” Again reading a silent question in Fiero’s face, she explained, “I thought you had them from the first time I danced with you. You danced far too well to be a novice. But I confess it does seem a bit surprising.”

His own smile still in place, he briefly squeezed her hand more tightly.

“I know. I didn’t ever think I’d have dance classes before I started them either. Dancing was never among my top-favorite activities until we started seeing one another.” Again wincing right after his sentence, he added, “Not that I ever hated it, but…”

He trailed off, unease creeping up into his eyes. Smiling again, Gracia rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb.

“I understand. I liked learning magic well enough when I was younger, but I didn’t throw myself into it until I became a malvaga.” Feeling the shadow of more unpleasant memories starting to creep over her, she went on before they could settle in. “Though now I’m curious on why you had dance classes if you didn’t particularly like dancing.”

Fiero’s shoulders dropped at the question. This time, a sigh actually flowed out of him, his hand slipping off of hers. Gracia knew without having to ask that whatever he was recalling, it was not pleasant.

But before she could tell him he didn’t have to answer if he didn’t want to, he explained, “I felt I should when I started training to be the Royal Wizard of Avalor.”

Gracia’s eyes opened a fraction wider.

“What does dancing have to do with being a Royal Wizard?”

He sighed again.

“Nothing. But I wanted to destroy any possible grounds for criticism. They included failing to mingle and dance during formal events. So besides studying up on all the magic I could, I started learning other things I thought would help me for when I became Royal Wizard. Ballroom dancing was one of them. I was never actually tested on that during my so-called exam, but I guess that’s just as well, because my instructor said that if I didn’t get rid of the snake-like edge to my movements, I’d always be a lost cause.”

Gracia’s face hardened, her eyebrows settling into a straight line, her blood suddenly warmer.

She already knew enough about Fiero’s time trying to be the Royal Wizard to be angry on his behalf at pretty much everyone involved, but it still seemed that the more she learned, the more reasons she found to be angry. It still didn’t excuse what he had ended up doing, of course, but Fiero himself had always acknowledged such a fact whenever they talked about it, and just because she didn’t excuse the way he had snapped it didn’t mean she couldn’t feel sorry for him. As personally motivated as he might have been to a degree, Gracia knew Fiero had also wanted the post because he wanted to help people. Yet, it just kept turning out that more and more people involved in the game were against him, and for all sorts of nonsensical reasons at that.

And to think people from Paraiso were seen by Avalorans as high and mighty jerks, more shallow and vain than parrots! If she ever got to meet those particular Avalorans, she’d certainly have a few choice words for them on that matter.

But most of them were dead anyway, and if they hadn’t been able to recognize Fiero’s worth before, her ripping them a new one wouldn’t do anything on that front. Not to mention that, unfortunately in every sense of the word, Fiero couldn't be a Royal Wizard anyway. Malvagos couldn’t be Royal Wizards because of the limits to their magic, and once wizards became malvagos, there was no way for them to be wizards again.

Some of her anger drained away by her inner tirade, she willed the remainder back into the depths of her being. Then, smiling at him once more, she held his hand and raised it, this time rubbing her thumb over his palm.

“Well, take this from someone who danced since she was three and was a professional dancer for over thirteen years.” She paused for a moment longer, until Fiero’s gaze was locked on hers. “You’re better than some of my dance partners, and I’m talking of people who danced for a living. And that’s a fact as far as I’m concerned.” She paused again, this time to make sure her sentences sank in. “But even if it wasn’t, there are only two rules that one needs to follow when dancing.”

Fiero’s lips parted slightly, in a clear relay of his amazement.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Well, not if you’re doing it professionally,” Gracia admitted. “Then the audience will expect nothing but the best, and in a competition in particular, the judges tend to have a mile-long list of standards, and failing to meet even half of them will rob you of any chance.” She released his hand, then rested her own on his cheek. “But when you’re dancing for fun, there are only two things that need to be done. To dance from the heart, and to choose a partner you like dancing with and who likes dancing with you.”

His smile returned at her words. Warmth again enveloped her hand as he put it to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he finished, his moustache tickling her skin.

“As long as I’m dancing with you, none of those things will ever come into question.”

“Likewise,” she replied as Fiero straightened himself, their gazes meeting again.

And that was all either needed to say on the matter, their eyes telling each other everything else they needed to know as the breeze flowed around them, a wave again trickling over their feet and then pulling back.

Then, slowly, like a spark spreading across kindling, sunlight spread across the whole landscape, a warmth seeping into their surroundings, the breeze settling down even further until it merely ghosted over them, like the settings in the kind of fairy tale moments common in the ballets Gracia had performed in.

She knew this one was entirely natural and just a lucky coincidence, but she was more than happy to go with it.

"Dance with me?" she requested, squeezing Fiero’s hand.

He squeezed hers in return, his eyes twinkling.

"Of course, mi alma."

Her chest fluttering, Gracia slowly withdrew her hand from his’, then raised it until it was before the knot in her wrap.

“Let’s get ready then,” she said.

With those words, she channelled magic into the garment around her shoulders, her signature purplish-pink tone surging around it. As fluidly as a liquid, the wrap untied itself loose and then slid through the air until it hovered before her, folding itself into a neat rectangle. Once it finished, Fiero raised his own hand, sending magic forth as the glow around the bundle shifted from purplish-pink to a different violet shade. Retracting her own magic, Gracia raised her tamborita and aimed it at the wrap, landing a firm, but subdued smack on the drum. A purplish-pink glow bloomed around it, and the next instant, the folded cloth shimmered out of view with a hushed poof, teleported into what she knew was its proper place in its drawer.

That part of the task done, Gracia again channeled magic into her tamborita, purplish-pink sparks surging around its handle and drum with a faint hiss. Lowering the hand he’d been holding up, Fiero raised his tamborita to hers, violet sparks erupting from it. Then, as they put their tamboritas’ drums together, the sparks fused into bigger, brighter bolts of their shades blended together, a loud crackle lashing forth as their magic joined, finishing the protective spell that would safeguard their tamboritas.

After holding the drum wands in place for a few seconds, Fiero and Gracia released them and, with a sweeping motion of their arms as coordinated as a dance step, sent them floating about thirty feet away, where they sank vertically into the sand. The bolts around them faded, but the tamboritas remained together as if glued, standing under their own power like two swords stuck on the same stone.

Their preparations complete, Fiero put an arm across his chest and bowed, while she curtsied in her sundress as formally as she would in a ballgown. Their gazes locked again, both stepped towards each other, her left hand resting on his shoulder while his right one settled on her waist, their other hands interlacing together. A familiar thrill bursting through her as she felt Fiero’s hand pressing to her left, she went along with the movement of his spin, her hair fanning out as she circled her way around him. A faint splash reached her ears as she stopped, but she barely noticed it as he released her waist and raised their entwined hands above their heads. Following the cue, she twirled in her spot and then put her hand back to his shoulder while his’ settled on her waist again. Her smile growing even wider, she pressed slightly into Fiero’s shoulder to convey what she wanted him to do; he followed along and spun to the left once more with her in his arms, though this time she tightened the circle as she walked around him. In perfect tune with her movement, Fiero stepped back, the two of them falling into their rhythm of steps and twirls and circles, the warm sun shining down on them.

Reminded of a similar setup in a ballet she had once performed in - and in a musical version of the same story that she had gone to on her fourth date with Fiero - Gracia started humming a familiar tune under her breath, setting their steps to it.

Again, Fiero curled an eyebrow even as he settled into her cue.

“Aurora and Phillip’s Waltz?” he asked.

“Just something to set our dance to, mi amado,” she replied without slowing down. “I thought this fit us.”

And it did. In more ways than one. Between the costumes they - or at least she - had been wearing on the night they actually started their romantic relationship, the dreams they’d both had on the same night not long before that occasion, and the musical adaptation of The Tale of Sleeping Beauty they had watched on their fourth date, she thought that the song fit them. Not to mention she had always liked it since she was a child, even if Princess Aurora’s tale had never been her top favorite.

For a moment, Fiero narrowed his eyes, his look out of focus as if he was thinking of something. Then, he pressed his lips together as if gathering himself, and sent a warm tingle flowing into the thrill shooting through her as he began singing.

I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream

Not missing a beat, Gracia joined in.

I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

He pulled her just a bit closer as both sang the next verses.

Yet I know it’s true That visions are seldom all they seem

Their voices soared as they moved into the chorus, the breeze briefly picking up again, but not slowing them down in the least as they swept across the beach.

But if I know you I know what you’ll do You’ll love me at once The way you did once upon a dream

#elena of avalor #fanfic #fiero #gracia #tales of the ever realm au #fiero x oc #fluff #romance #I hope you like it

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thebluemartini · 5 years ago

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Far From the Shallow - EPILOGUE [Nessian Fic]

TITLE: Far From the Shallow SYNOPSIS: Post-ACOFAS. As part of a deal with Feyre, Nesta has agreed to live with Cassian in the Illyrian Mountains. However, shortly after her arrival, she receives the startling news that she’s pregnant from one of her one-night stands. While she tries to quickly get a grip on her life, Cassian’s determined to make her see that she’s not facing this alone.

FIC LENGTH: Multi-chapter (14 chapters total)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13

TAGGING: @bohemiandreams27 @queenofillea1 @trash-for-nessian @nestaarcheronwillkillme @my-fan-side @strangeenemy @maastrash @cageddovepoetry @bybooksanddreams @lilbat90 @ritamordio19 @mastercommandercaptain @feysand-dot-acotar @archeron-queen @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @empress-ofbloodshed @there-is-warmth-in-winter @mybbyfeyre @saltydreamcollector @justlikethecheshirecat @mis-lil-red @supebowlere @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @everything-that-i-love @sezkins79 @hashtolanashoba @lord-douglas-the-third @rhysandsdarlingfeyre @hikari274 @acotar-and-tog-for-life @ellenoftroy @ink-nibs @highlordofthenightcourttrash @sesquipedalian-aficionado @tintinnabulary

*This chapter is also posted on AO3 and FF.

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EPILOGUE

Dahlia could already walk and talk by the time Cassian deemed it safe for her and Nesta to live in the Illyrian Mountains.

They’d only moved to Illyria one week ago, yet Nesta couldn’t help but feel at peace already. Over the past few years, she’d been experiencing a feeling of restlessness that left her anxious.

But now her and Dahlia were finally living with Cassian, and it finally felt like they were a true family.

Of course, they’d always been a family, but now...now the life her and Cassian had dreamed about had truly come to fruition.

Now Cassian could sleep beside Nesta each night, and when Dahlia thought there were monsters in her room, she could now have the comfort and safety of coming to their bedroom to sleep in between both of her parents. When it was time to sit down for dinner each night, it wasn’t just Nesta who encouraged Dahlia to eat all her food, but Cassian could too. When Dahlia would get sleepy but insist she still wanted to stay up, now Cassian and her could take her to bed together and read her a nighttime story.

It was little moments like these they’d be able to share together by living under one roof, and Nesta was so grateful.

Things weren’t exactly perfect in Illyria. There was still a long way to go in the treatment of females and children, but the Illyrians had shown improvement in listening to Cassian after he dedicated much of his time to visiting and training with the various camps to know and understand them more.

In his conversations with camp leaders, it finally didn’t seem like they wanted to murder him. They even started showing him some respect.

Plus, Nesta had learned how to better control and use her powers with the help of Amren and her siphon. She had learned how to winnow short distances from Feyre too. With these abilities, she was more confident she could protect those she loved.

With all these pieces coming together, it seemed like it would finally be safe enough to live with Cassian in Illyria.

Thankfully, her official role in assisting the Inner Circle with correspondence with other fae and other courts didn’t require her to be living in any specific place.

As another precaution, her and Cassian had decided to live in a new cabin that was a little farther away from Windhaven. It was also a new cabin in honor of their new life as a family living together - one that hadn’t been tainted with memories of being threatened by other camps or being attacked.

As Nesta stirred a pot of stew on the stove, she smiled to herself as she thought about the possibly joyous moments they could fill their home with and the memories that had already been made there, such as the way Cassian embraced them when he came home from his day of training for the first time since they’d moved in.

“Mommy, when is Daddy coming home?” Dahlia said as she wandered up to Nesta’s side with her stuffed horse tucked underneath her arm.

“Any minute now, my angel,” Nesta replied as she scooped a small portion of the stew into a bowl.

Then Nesta crouched down so she was nearly eye level with Dahlia, holding the bowl of stew and a spoon in her hands. “Lia,” Nesta began gently, calling her by her nickname. “Do you remember what you need to tell Daddy?”

Dahlia nodded eagerly. “That Mommy’s making lunch for him.”

“That’s right. Now this bowl is for you,” Nesta smiled as she handed her the bowl and spoon, which Dahlia accepted while still keeping her horse under her arm. “You can wait for him by the front door, but only go outside once you see Daddy through the window,” Nesta instructed. She was always overprotective when it came to Dahlia.

“Okay, Mommy,” Dahlia said as she ran over to the door while carrying her stew and horse.

_______________________________________________________________

When Cassian landed a short distance from his cabin, a wave of joy and peacefulness came over him.

Coming home to his family was a luxury he almost thought would never occur based on his troubles with the Illyrians. But here he was - nearly four years since Dahlia was born - about to step into his home and see both his love and his daughter for the seventh day in a row. He couldn’t help but feel ecstatic to embrace them.

As he took his first step toward the cabin, the front door creaked open, and he saw Dahlia walk outside. She stopped to put the bowl she was holding down on the porch before rushing up to him. A smile spread across Cassian’s face as he paused his stride. He bent his knees and outstretched his hands as he waited for her to come to him.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she exclaimed as she ran. Cassian could see the legs of the stuffed horse he had given her poking out from underneath her arm.

When she reached him, Cassian instantly closed his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. “How’s my baby girl?”

“Daddy, can I start learning how to fly today?” she asked, completely disregarding what he said.

His heart broke a little as she asked her question. She asked him this everyday the past week. Her wings had finally been growing, but at a much slower rate than most Illyrians. An effect from the fall Nesta took, unfortunately. Him and Nesta were assured, however, that her wings would be full-grown one day.

“Hmm,” he said as he looked over her wings. Right now, they just weren’t large enough to support her body. “I think we need to wait a little bit longer, sweetheart,” he noted. “They aren’t big enough yet, but the longer they take to grow, the stronger they will be!” he emphasized.

Dahlia pouted. “But I want to fly.”

“You will, sweetheart,” Cassian reassured her. “One day.”

“Can you just fly me around right now instead?”

“Let’s go ask your mother first,” Cassian advised. Nesta was always nervous when he took Dahlia flying since she was still so young.

He started walking toward the porch, but Dahlia started getting fussy in his arms, wanting to be put down. He did as she requested, then she ran up ahead of him to the porch and grabbed her bowl.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed there was stew inside the bowl, which perplexed him. Only he cooked for the family, never Nesta. He’d always insisted he cook while in Illyria to prove a point to the Illyrians. Plus, Nesta could never offer him food unless she wanted to...

“Lia, where did that food come from?”

“Mommy made it,” she said before placing a spoonful in her mouth. “Mommy told me to tell you she made some for you too.”

Cassian’s eyes widened in shock and excitement as his heart started racing.

Nesta’s finally ready.

Thrilled by this revelation, he’d nearly been about to burst through the front door to reach Nesta, but he abruptly paused to crouch down and speak to Dahlia.

“Lia, do you remember that secret I told you to keep from Mommy because Mommy wasn’t ready to hear it yet?”

Dahlia nodded her head eagerly.

“Well, today you can finally tell Mommy.”

Dahlia gasped. “Can I tell her right now?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said as he held open the door for her. Cassian wasn’t far behind her as they hurried into the kitchen.

“Mommy! Mommy!” Dahlia cried out as she ran up to Nesta, who was standing by the stove.

Cassian paused in the entryway to the kitchen and watched as Nesta gathered Dahlia in her arms. “Is Daddy home, sweetheart?” she gently asked before turning to find him standing there.

From across the kitchen, he gave her an intense look of admiration. With a satisfied grin upon his face, he crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame.

He then gave the pot on the stove a pointed look before returning her gaze to her.

Nesta’s lips formed a subtle smile as she stared back at him and gave him the slightest nod.

They might not have been able to speak through each other’s minds yet, but he knew she could read his mind at that moment and confirmed that she indeed was offering him food. That she was ready. That she wanted to be his mate for life.

“I have a secret to tell you!” Dahlia exclaimed as she put her small hands against her mother’s face to force her to look at her.

Cassian leisurely walked up to them as he opened the very small pouch attached to his belt.

“What is it, Lia?” Nesta asked.

“Daddy wants to be an Archeron, just like us!” she shouted.

Cassian got down on both of his knees in front of them as Nesta turned her head to look at him again. Her eyes widened as he pulled out a small wooden box from the pouch at his waist and offered it to her.

He’d never had a last name before. And he’d never had anywhere where he felt like he truly belonged before, until the two girls before him entered his life.

Stunned at the sight in front of her, Nesta couldn’t take her eyes off of the box, even as she bent down to put Dahlia back on the floor. “Is that...the box you tried to give me at Winter Solstice years ago?”

Cassian nodded as Nesta took the box from his hands. Her hands trembled as she opened it to discover the necklace with the ruby that had belonged to his mother. The one that was in the hilt of his old Illyrian blade that Nesta had used to distract the king of Hybern.

Nesta just stared at it in bewilderment.

“But...you had thrown this in the Sidra. How did you…?”

“I had help from a fae from the Summer Court who had some water manipulation powers,” he explained.

“But the Summer Court hates you…” she said as her face contorted in confusion.

“A story for another time,” he stated with a cheeky grin, thinking of all he had to go through to convince the fae to help him. “But Nesta, my love, I love you more than words can say, and I -”

“I know,” Nesta breathed as tears formed in her eyes. “You don’t need to say anything, Cassian. I know how much you love me. Just as you know how much I love you.”

He took a shaky breath. “My love, I know it’s not a ring, but I hope you’ll still accept this as - ”

“Mommy! Can you pleaseee marry Daddy so he can become an Archeron?” Dahlia interjected as she impatientiently tugged on Nesta’s dress.

“Yes, of course I will,” Nesta whispered as her blue-gray eyes focused on Cassian. “And of course, I accept this necklace.”

Dahlia let out a scream of giddy delight as Cassian hurriedly got up off the ground to grab the necklace out of the box. Wrapping it around Nesta’s neck, he stood behind her as he linked it together, then placed a kiss at the nape of her neck.

As soon as he pulled back, Nesta immediately turned around to kiss him passionately.

“Now about my stew…” she said as she put her arms around his neck.

Cassian placed his arms at her waist. “Well, you do know what’s going to happen as soon as you give me that food and I eat it, right?”

The desire for her would be hard to control at that point...

Nesta nodded. “Which is why I asked Feyre to come over to pickup Lia in a little while so she can go play with her cousin,” she revealed.

“But I want to see Daddy become an Archeron, Mommy!” Dahlia piped in, tugging at Nesta’s dress.

“That will happen another day, my angel. We need time to plan it,” Nesta explained.

“Hmm,” Cassian remarked as he picked up Dahlia. “But maybe the three of us could spend time together first to celebrate? Then you can feed me later, my love.”

“Of course you had to go and upstage my food offering,” she teased with a smile, and Cassian’s free hand caressed her face. “But I’m glad you did. I’ll let Feyre know to come later.”

She gave him a quick kiss before she stepped away.

Then Cassian looked over at Dahlia, who was beaming in his arms. “Daddy gets to marry Mommy,” he whispered excitedly to her. “Thank you for telling Mommy, sweetheart. I love you,” he said before kissing the top of her head.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she said before kissing his cheek.

_______________________________________________________________

Cassian ended up flying Dahlia and Nesta to a wooded area that he’d made into Dahlia’s play area, which included swings he’d crafted that hung from the trees, a mini cabin to serve as her own fort, a seesaw, and a variety of rocks she could paint (she recently received a set of paints as a gift from Feyre). It was an afternoon filled with fun and laughter, one that made Nesta incandescently happy.

The fact that Cassian would soon be both her mate and husband probably made the day feel even more special. She didn’t know he would ask her to marry him that day, but she suspected he’d been wanting to ask for a long time.

After Feyre had picked up Dahlia to spend the night in Velaris, Nesta went about reheating the stew she had made earlier that afternoon.

“Do you know why I chose to make you stew?” she questioned Cassian as she stood with her back to him and stirred the pot on the stove.

“Hmm,” Cassian began as he thought about the possible reason. “Wasn’t it the first dish I taught you how to make?”

“You remember,” Nesta noted with a smile.

“Of course I do,” he remarked as he came up behind her and snaked his arms around her waist.

Nesta grabbed a spoon and scooped some stew out of the pot. Holding up the spoonful of food, she twirled in Cassian’s arms to face him and present him with it.

Cassian looked curiously at the spoon for a minute before bringing his gaze back to Nesta. “Why now?” he wondered softly. “After all this time, why now?”

“Because I was tired of you trying to read my mind and always misunderstanding what I was thinking. Life would be easier if you really could read it,” she teased.

Cassian chuckled, but waiting for her to go on.

She took a deep breath. “Because the other day, I just...I was watching you read to Lia, and I didn’t know why I was waiting anymore,” she continued. “I think I finally realized that my love for you is greater than any desire to keep fighting off all these fae customs. I shouldn’t be spiting the bond. I should be thankful for it. That I’ll be able to live a long life with you. That I’ll have a lot of time with you.”

Cassian grinned and leaned down to kiss her. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she replied as she reached her hand up to touch her necklace. “And now I ask you the same question. Why now?”

Cassian brought his hands up to her face and pushed away the stray strands of hair behind her ears. “Because I knew you were ready. I’ve been wanting to marry you probably since about two weeks after Dahlia was born. But I knew asking you then would’ve been too much and too fast for you after everything you’ve gone through. And I didn’t want to ask you until I knew you were ready. I didn’t want you to feel pressured to marry me if you knew it was what I’d been wanting. I wanted it to be your choice. So when Dahlia said you were making me food, I knew you were ready.”

“I’m sorry for taking so long,” she said quietly.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love,” he told her tenderly.

Nesta leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m shocked you haven’t started calling me ‘my mate.’”

“Well, I’m not too fond of that term. I prefer ‘my love’ because I love you by choice, not because of the bond.”

His words never failed to warm her heart.

“Well, my love, the future Cassian Archeron...” she began and she brought the spoon closer to his mouth.

“I love the sound of that,” he interjected, causing Nesta to smile even brighter.

“Do you accept the bond and accept this stew I have to offer you?”

“Yes,” Cassian emphasized, and Nesta placed the spoonful of stew in his mouth.

Cassian swallowed. “Delicious,” he commented before leaning in to plant his lips against her throat.

Nesta let the spoon clatter to the floor as she clutched at his tunic.

“Wait, Cassian,” she said, and Cassian instantly pulled away. “There’s something else that I’ve realized I want.”

“Anything.”

“I want…” she took a deep breath as her heart raced. She wasn’t terribly nervous about asking to be his mate earlier because she was confident he would accept. But this...she wasn’t sure how he’d react to this news at all. “I want another child.”

Cassian brought his hands to her upper arms and froze. “Do you really want another one, or are you just saying this because you think I want a child related to me by blood? Because I consider Dahlia to be mine, through and through. If you don’t want anymore kids, she is enough for me,” he insisted.

Nesta couldn’t help but fret over his response. Did he not want another child? Is that why he was reacting this way?

But she had to be honest with him. “I really do want another one,” she revealed. “You’ve been such a great father, and I’ve loved raising Dahlia with you. I want to raise another child with you. But only if you want one too…” she finished hesitantly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Cassian stated as put his hands on her cheeks and his mouth spread into a wide grin. “Yes, despite your wild moods and cravings during pregnancy, of course I want to have another child with you,” he added before kissing her fiercely.

Pretty soon, his kisses were everywhere and she responded in kind. Stepping away from the stove, he lifted her off the ground and she encircled her legs around his waist as he supported her.

“Maybe this time we’ll have a boy,” Nesta expressed in between her deep breaths.

“And we can name him Cassian,” he added breathlessly as he tugged the ribbon out of her hair.

Nesta rolled her eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I already have enough Cassians in my life.”

As Cassian walked her to the bedroom, he laughed against her lips.

And when he laid her down on the bed and their bodies eventually joined together, she could feel that power that had been pleading to be released for years explode with intense fervor between them.

I love you, my future wife, she heard in her mind.

I love you, my future husband, she replied through the bridge between their minds.

Even though the mating bond had been officially established between them, Nesta felt fully in control. With a soon-to-be husband who loved her unconditionally, a daughter whom she adored more than anything in this world, and her ability to love them fiercely and fearlessly, she finally felt...complete.

_______________________________________________________________

A/N: Oh boy, this will be long. I can't believe this is the end!

So when I first started this story, I KNEWWW that writing multi-chapter fics would take over my life, so I decided "hey, okay we're going to try to keep this fic short by only doing about a chapter per month of the pregnancy." WELP, this fic went onto becoming the longest fic I've ever written.

And I couldn't have kept up with up with it, written as much as I did, and completed it if it weren't for you lovely readers! Every comment, every like, every request to be tagged has meant SO MUCH to me! Heck, even if you didn't do any of that and still read all this, it means a lot! THANK YOU SO MUCH!

If you did get through this whole enchilada, I've love to hear from you just so I can thank you personally! Even if it's the simplest of comments just saying you read this thing, I want to thank you! You can tell me what you liked and even what you didn't like. (You know what I don't like? I don't like that I didn't give Emerie more of a role as a friend to Nesta...it was my original intent to do that, but then my poor brain and poor typing fingers could only handle building up one relationship at a time and it had to be Nessian lol.)

Anyway, I don't think I've ever said that the title of this fic comes from the song "Shallow" from the movie, "A Star is Born." That movie's soundtrack really influenced me when I wrote my original outline for this fic. So thank you "A Star is Born"!

I am probably going to take a loooong break from writing Nessian. This fic was such a beast that I'm a bit exhausted! Plus, I only really like writing post-ACOFAS fics about them, and since I've been stuck in the headspace for this fic for so long, it's become my current headcannon, lol. It would be hard to write about anything where Nesta and Cassian do not have Dahlia!

Anyway, I hope you found this ending to be satisfying and that it made all the angst worth it! (oh man, I kinda really missed writing the angst though!)

TL;DR: LOVE YOU ALL! Thank you so much for reading and supporting me through this!!! ;)

#nessian #nesta #cassian #nesta cassian #nesta archeron #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #a court of wings and ruin #acowar #a court of frost and starlight #acofas #fanfiction #far from the shallow #wings and embers

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