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thecrownnet · 4 years ago

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October 3, 2020

Series four of The Crown takes on Princess Diana: exclusive pictures and interviews Charles has found a wife, Andy’s got a racy new girlfriend and Thatcher’s coming for tea... Megan Agnew gets an exclusive tour behind the scenes of the most wild and lavish series yet

Lasers. That’s what helped Emma Corrin understand Princess Diana in the latest series of The Crown. When the cameras were rolling, she imagined that lasers were pointing at her, as if she were in a spy film or a bank heist drama. It was her way of imagining hundreds of people staring right at her. Lasers helped her with the iconic Diana head tilt. She pretended she was shying away from them.

Corrin could also draw on her own trajectory as a 24-year-old actress. Before landing her part in The Crown, she was an unknown. Suddenly “there’s a huge amount of pressure”, she says.

When I visit the set at Winchester Cathedral, which is pretending to be St Paul’s, the paparazzi arrive to catch Corrin pretending to be Diana. She’s dressed in a replica of the outfit they papped at the actual royal wedding rehearsal almost 40 years ago. Every time she moves between buildings and trailers, Corrin has to be shielded with umbrellas. Life imitates art imitates life.

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Almost every person Corrin has spoken to since getting the role has their own “Diana moment” — they might once have waved at her car in the street, been a pupil at a school she visited or knew someone who sat next to her at a dinner. Diana was one of the first celebrities to whom people laid claim. “Everyone has this ownership,” says Corrin. She was, and still is, the People’s Princess. But Corrin is trying not to think too much about it. Public expectation has been “overwhelming since the beginning”, she says. She wants to do Diana “proud”. “I know that’s strange and cheesy, but I feel like I know her.”

Emma Corrin as Princess Diana/ NETFLIX

The first television series of The Crown, which aired in 2016, was at the time the most expensive in history. Each series since has been estimated to have cost upwards of £50 million. The first two covered the first decade of Elizabeth II’s rule to wide acclaim, but series three — in which Her Majesty Claire Foy was succeeded by Olivia Colman — had mixed reviews. “The jewel in Netflix’s tiara has lost its shine,” said one. It was “okay”, said another.

Now, with series four’s reported £100 million budget eclipsing the Queen’s own sovereign grant last year of £82.2 million, The Crown is barrelling straight into the Eighties era of celebrity glamour and modern party politics grit. Peter Morgan, the show’s creator, is taking on two of the most controversial public figures of the past 50 years: Princess Diana and Margaret Thatcher. “The word ‘iconic’ is overused, but in the case of these two women quite justified,” Morgan says. Both have passionate fans and detractors. “Writing them was a bit of a high-wire act, but it was exhilarating.”

We meet Diana as a teenager, scampering around her huge family home in Northamptonshire. She is young and apologetic. The Prince of Wales, at that time dating her eldest sister, is rather distracted. A number of years later, Diana is leaving her relatively modest flat in Earls Court and her job as a nursery school assistant to move into Clarence House — but finds herself in solitude. Bored and lonely, 19-year-old Diana rollerskates down corridors to Duran Duran and sits all by herself in her chamber. One night, after finding out about Prince Charles’s affair with Camilla Parker Bowles, she gorges on puddings and makes herself vomit them back up.

Behind the scenes: the latest series of The Crown/ NETFLIX

*Spoilers*

It is a dark moment that Corrin wanted to get right. She listened to real-life accounts of people who had suffered from bulimia and talked with experts from the eating disorder charity Beat. Diana herself said that it was the most “discreet” way of harming herself: “Everyone in the family knew about the bulimia,” she said in recordings from the 1990s later made into a Channel 4 documentary.

“Drawing on my experience,” says Corrin, “not that I’ve experienced that kind of self-harm, but mental health in general, it can lead you down a very dark path when you’re struggling to cope, when things feel out of control. Diana very much doesn’t have the love and comfort and attention she needs from the man she loves or the family, who aren’t really acting as a family to her. There is a build-up of emotion she can’t deal with and making herself sick is a way of taking back control.”

When Josh O’Connor, who plays the Prince of Wales, first read the script for this series he thought: “Oh God, how can Charles be like that to Diana? But he feels wronged. He feels like she has an addiction to the spotlight,” he says. “I have to feel sympathy for him in that world. This is a family who have an intense inability to be emotional and he has inherited that awkwardness. In this series there’s an awful lot of Charles trying to explain himself and not being allowed to. He’s trying to say that if he can be with Camilla, then at least two of the three people can be happy. As it is, there’s three miserable people.”

The Crown works differently to other shows in that the “writers’ room” is not made up of writers but researchers, who constantly feed back to Morgan, the king of The Crown. It means that for each word eventually spoken on film, there are pages and pages of briefing notes. Annie Sulzberger, head of research, started this series by hiring a young team. “I wanted people who did not grow up believing one or the other [Diana and Thatcher],” she says. “You have to be curious enough and ignorant enough, I suppose, to write the kind of work we need.”

This series will span the Thatcher years — 1979 to 1990 — and will include the assassination of Charles’s great-uncle, Lord Mountbatten, by the IRA, Charles and Diana’s wedding, and the Falklands War. Once the team has laid out a timeline, Morgan picks out the events he wants to feature. The research team starts to hone in on each, getting increasingly “micro” in their investigations. In the making of this series, one of the team spent two weeks researching the label on a bottle of wine from which a character briefly swigs.

Dress rehearsal: Josh O’Connor and Emma Corrin act out Charles and Diana’s wedding run-through/ NETFLIX

As the show has progressed, the fact-checking work has multiplied, thanks to the tabloid journalism of the 1980s. “It’s not just about words being printed,” Sulzberger says, “but who wrote it. Diana will become very close with a journalist called Richard Kay and feed him information, and Charles’s team will do the same. So you need to start unpicking the biographies of all the writers in order to know that what you’re doing has some objectivity.”

Did the team speak to any of Diana’s family or friends? “No.” Do the producers give any material to the Palace to see beforehand? “No. We have no connection to them that would result in editorial shifts. These are real people, these are real stories and we are filling in the moments that aren’t recorded — private conversations, moments of reflection, philosophical moments.”

When I ask Morgan if it’s true that he meets high-ranking courtiers four times a year, he is keen to clear up that he doesn’t. “I have never had any discussions with anyone actively working at the Palace,” he says. “The two worlds, the royal household and The Crown, exist in a world of mutual deniability, which I’m sure is every bit as important to them as it is to us.”

Corrin, though, did speak to Patrick Jephson, Diana’s private secretary, who appears as a fictionalised character in this series. “I got a sense of her joy from him,” Corrin says. “He said she was so naturally happy. When she joined the royal family, she had come from living with flatmates in Earls Court and she was a very normal girl. Patrick said she was still full of that girlish silliness, very down to earth.”

The couple themselves at the real thing in 1981 MIKE LLOYD/SHUTTERSTOCK/REX

The executive producer Suzanne Mackie says that “particularly now” The Crown team feels a sense of responsibility “to living people, people’s children, people’s parents. Obviously what we don’t do is engage on a fact level with the royal family. We have a tacit understanding that they need distance from us and we need distance from them.”

It is a cold day in January and I am watching Charles and Diana’s wedding rehearsal in Winchester. About 75 per cent of the show is filmed on location around the world, over the course of seven months. The rest is filmed at the show’s base, Elstree Studios, just north of London.

Today in Winchester Cathedral there is a crew of 78 and a cast of almost 200. The sight is as epic as the show’s budget would suggest. Between takes, Corrin sits on the stone steps by the altar, scrolling on her iPhone with one hand and biting her fingernails on the other. Even before the clapperboard snaps shut, the resemblance between her and the princess is uncanny.

Sidonie Roberts, head buyer and assistant costume designer, has a timeline of photos of Diana covering the wall of her studio at Elstree. Roberts is devoted to the cause. She travels to Paris to buy buttons from the same shop the Queen’s dressmaker uses (it sells more than 30,000 types of button) and to Soho to rummage in basements for fabric. Last year she was in a Bangladeshi fabric shop in Brick Lane, east London, when she saw a roll of material right on the very top shelf. “It was still in its plastic, but I just knew — that’s Diana’s colour,” Roberts says. She got a ladder, climbed to the top, pulled down the fabric and bought it for £3.50 a metre. When Roberts got back to the studio at Elstree, she unrolled it and saw a stamp at the bottom: “The Lady Diana Collection, made in Japan.” Roberts did some research. It was real silk, from a collection made in the princess’s honour.

In the corner of the studio an assistant is gluing tiny pearls to Diana’s flat wedding shoes. She has been decorating them, exactly like the originals, for a day and a half. “We’ve had a long conversation about the size of those pearls,” says Roberts. David and Elizabeth Emanuel, who designed Diana’s original wedding dress, donated patterns to the show, which were used to make the new version. With its 25ft train, it took ten people to get Corrin into the dress. In the show it is seen in full, and only from behind, for no more than 15 seconds.

Paying their respects: Olivia Colman as the Queen and the rest of the royal family at the funeral of Lord Mountbatten/ NETFLIX

Corrin is masterful at inhabiting Diana’s coyness — hunching her shoulders towards her ears as she walks, the smirk, her intonation. Diana’s voice was the “polar opposite” of the royals’, says William Conacher, The Crown’s dialect coach. “She moved her jaw twice as much, so her voice was more forward, open, easier to access, and I don’t think it’s especially revelatory to suggest accessibility was her shtick,” he says. “She used a minor key that made her seem vulnerable. Despite the Queen’s and Prince Charles’s accents being ‘stiffer’ to listen to, I think it comes entirely naturally, whereas I find Diana’s voice more studied. I think she spoke to have an effect.”

What sort of research did Colman do for series four’s Queen? “Yeah, I don’t do research,” she says when we speak on the phone in the summer. “The research team on The Crown is a bit like the British Library. It’s extraordinary, and when they kick in, your computer can’t really cope with the amount of stuff they send you.” Was there something in particular that the team sent her that made things click? “No.” There is a longish silence. It seems Colman’s royal duty is waning. “They’ve got every image and film of the Queen ever made. I’ve also got three kids, so I can’t spend all my time going through all of it.”

As she wraps up a second series of The Crown — Imelda Staunton will take over for five and six — Colman knows that she would “really not like” to have the Queen’s job. “There are very few people who are forced into a job and have no choice about it,” she says. “She’s done it with dignity, for decades, bless her. It’s amazing.”

The funeral of Lord Mountbatten took place in 1979 BENTLEY ARCHIVE/POPPERFOTO/GETTY

If there were rumours of Elizabeth II being unhappy about the last series of The Crown, I can’t imagine she’ll be too chuffed about this one. Series four’s Queen is colder and more distant, and the effects of her duty on her children more obvious: Charles is heavy with melancholy, Anne feels unheard, Edward is portrayed as a spoilt bully and Andrew is dangerously arrogant.

Speaking of Andrew, there is a subtle nod towards recent events. At one point the prince discusses a young American actress he is dating. The actress had recently played a 17-year-old who must entertain several “old predators who seduce the vulnerable, helpless young Emily”. The real prince dated the actress Koo Stark in 1981, who had starred in The Awakening of Emily, which had a near-identical plot.

In series four, the pivotal relationship between the Queen and Margaret Thatcher begins well. They are respectful of one another as no-nonsense working mothers, but tensions arise — not least, over tea etiquette at Balmoral.

In preparation for her role as the Iron Lady, Gillian Anderson met Charles Moore, Thatcher’s biographer, as well as secretaries who worked with her. “The only way for me to go about sitting inside of her was to find the reason behind her actions — growing up, what she learnt from her father, how much she truly believed that she was the answer and as long as we all took the sour medicine now we’d be able to turn around this country, completely shutting her eyes to the people that she was turning out on the street.”

Anderson eventually “settled into” the body of Thatcher. “She walked very fast, always up ahead,” Anderson says. “She would power forward in front of presidents. With [Ronald] Reagan she would supposedly be alongside him, but was walking ahead. Always walking ahead of [husband] Denis, telling him to catch up.”

Thatcher’s barnet also features. In one scene she spends an asphyxiating four seconds hairspraying it in preparation for a showdown with the Queen. The hairdo took endless camera tests before Morgan was happy with it. “It essentially meant destroying it so it had an overprocessed ‘frothy’ quality,” says the hair and make-up designer Cate Hall. “To treat a wig so badly was against all of our instincts — they’re so expensive — but I’m grateful now that we went through the process with Peter, with him saying no, more, it’s not right, try again.”

Clash of the titans: Margaret Thatcher, played by Gillian Anderson, is filmed meeting the Queen, played by Olivia Colman, in a memorable scene from series four/ NETFLIX

Series five will have a whole new cast. Colman says she is “not the sort of person who keeps the shoes of a character they played 20 years ago”. But Helena Bonham Carter is going to miss Princess Margaret. “She does pop out [in everyday life],” she says. “The other day I was at some public event and there was the normal scramble of people and I just told them, ‘No, shut up.’ The finger came out, which is very her, and I said, ‘Shut up and wait. Don’t get hysterical.’ So I’ve got the bossy side of her.”

Originally Morgan said there would be two more series after this one. Then he changed his mind, describing series five as “the perfect time and place to stop”. Now there are two more again (“To do justice to the richness and complexity of the story,” he reneged). The show is creeping closer to the modern day. It is now said to be ending in the 2000s, spanning, perhaps, Charles and Diana’s divorce, the deaths of Diana, Margaret and the Queen Mother, the marriage of Charles and Camilla, and the teenage and twentysomething princes. “I want to end it close enough to present day to feel that we have completed a long journey and distant enough to feel historical,” says Morgan. “I have a specific incident in mind, but until I’ve actually written it and seen if it works, I can’t commit to discussing it.”

On set with Mackie, I mention Harry and Meghan. “Too often,” the couple posted on their Instagram page that month, “we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring.” Is it possible, I ask Mackie, for the royal family to humanise themselves while still justifying their existence as something mightier, more important, regal? “That’s where you go wrong, as a public figure, letting light in on the magic, especially as a monarch,” she replies. “You have to be an ideal. After years and years of that subjugation of self in order to put duty first, you, the essence of you, is buried somewhere. The Queen is a tiny little person inside many, many Russian dolls.”

Series four of The Crown is available on Netflix from November 15

#olivia colman #helena bonham carter #gillian anderson #the crown #the crown spoilers #tobias menzies #josh o'connor #emma corrin #princess diana #ben daniels #erin doherty #emerald fennell #charles dance #marion bailey #the crown netflix

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amayawolfe · 4 years ago

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Ch. 5 - Whispers of the Cards

My Stories Masterlist

Word Count: 6214 Summary: Hisoka learns what became of him in the alley after he was rendered unconscious. Magikana receives a little more insight into the past of her apprentice through the means of fortune telling.

Warnings(TW): mentions of homophobia, angst, mentions of self harm/suicide, mentions of past abuse/rape, blood mentioned, vaguely mentions of underage masturbation, cartomancy

Hisoka

A warm, bright light slowly penetrated Hisoka's closed eyelids, steadily rousing his conscious mind. He could tell he was laying on something soft and was covered with some sort of blanket. His thoughts faltered. Something about this felt… familiar.

Hisoka took an abrupt intake of breath as memories of his nightmare came crashing forward. His eyes snapped open and looked wildly about the room, half expecting to see the rotting corpse of his mother, ready and waiting to pounce him once again. He was more than a little relieved to find no such monstrosity.

Hisoka took a deep breath through his nose, wincing a little due to the tenderness of his ribs. Staring at the ceiling, his mind wandered while he tried to recall what happened last night. It was strange that the memories of his nightmare, an event that didn’t really happen, were much more clear than the memories of what really did happen.

His eyes began to roam when his attention was captured by the sound of someone snoring softly. He turned his head to see a covered figure of someone laying beside him atop his blankets with their back facing him.

Who? ♣ Hisoka then spotted familiar auburn hair sticking out from atop the blanket. Oh, it’s Abaki. ♡ She must have fallen asleep after I did and Kana covered her up when she checked in on us. ♡

Even though Abaki was asleep, he was grateful for the company. He turned his gaze back towards the slightly cracked ceiling above. His stomach growled loudly and he wondered when his trainer would be by again to check on them.

As if on cue, Magikana pushed open the door to the room and came in with little noise. Looking in her direction, Hisoka saw she was carrying a tray with food on it. The teen’s stomach growled even louder when the delicious aromas wafted from the tray and reached his nose. The sound of his stomach was loud enough to catch the magician’s attention. She turned and smiled down at her apprentice.

“Ah, you are avake, good,” she set the tray down on the nightstand beside the bed.

Hisoka pushed himself into an upright sitting position and glanced over at the tray. His mouth watered when he saw there were two helpings of oatmeal with butter and cinnamon sugar, fried eggs, crispy bacon, fresh fruit, and mugs of warm honey tea. For the first time in quite a while, Hisoka had a voracious appetite. He felt like he had not eaten in days.

Movement beside him signaled that Abaki was waking up as well. She stretched with a groan and rolled over. When she opened her violet eyes to see Hisoka and Magikana both looking down at her, she blinked.

“Oh,” the trainee mumbled sleepily, “morning.”

“Actually,” Kana chuckled warmly as she handed Hisoka his bowl of oatmeal, “it is vell past noon. Cook vas nice enough to make breakfast foods for you two.”

“What?!” Abaki yelped, suddenly wide awake and sitting up. “But, what about the others? Are they still here?” The magician's face fell and she shook her head slowly.

“The others have gone ahead, they could no longer stay.” Magikana looked at their horrified faces before her and burst out laughing.

“Do not be so vorried, little vuns,” she stated in an amused and whimsical manner. “Once Hisoka is fit for travel, ve vill be on our own way to join zem.”

With those words, the two teens released their collective breaths and relaxed. However, nearly as soon as Hisoka felt relieved he felt a wave of guilt wash over him.

They were left behind because of me… ♠ Frowning, Hisoka hadn’t even realized he had set his bowl down until Magikana spoke to him.

“It is okay, little vun,” she said softly, “Is not your fault. And ones at fault are gone.”

Hisoka looked at Magikana and opened his mouth to question only to have his teacher quickly raise her hand, cutting him off.

“Eat first,” she instructed sternly. “Vill explain all once food is gone.”

It was relatively quiet as the two teens hungrily ravaged their food. Magikana quietly sat beside the bed as she sipped her own mug of warm tea while scrolling through her phone. Once the dishes were empty and stacked nicely on the tray, the magician put her phone away and sighed.

“Where to begin..” The magician frowned, tapping her finger on her leg in thought.

“Hisoka,” she started hesitantly, “you have been unconscious not so better part of four days.”

Hisoka had a feeling this was the case, so he wasn’t really surprised at the news. He continued to stare at his trainer, waiting for her to keep going. But, for the first time in the few months he’d known her, Magikana seemed unsure what to say next. She even appeared to be unsettled by what she was trying to tell him.

“What happened to me? ♣” he croaked. It was painfully obvious that Hisoka’s vocal cords were still injured. He did sound a great deal better than last night, however. The magician opened her mouth to speak, yet the words appeared stuck in her throat. Hisoka could see pain and anger begin to show in her eyes. The emotions confused him, causing him to tilt his head a little.

Abaki tentatively raised her hand, “I could help tell what happened.” Her voice sounded small, almost timid. At this, Magikana swallowed hard and gave her head a single, solemn nod. The acrobat trainee nodded in response. She took a deep, shaky breath and looked down at her hands as she wrung them together.

“When you didn’t meet me to go to the beach, I thought maybe you were still helping Kana. Or that maybe you didn’t hear me over the crowd,” she started slowly. “So I went to find you both, but she was alone. When I asked her about you, she said that you had gone to meet me, and I became worried. I went to look for you. Kana said she would help if I couldn’t find you by the time she was done cleaning up. I was walking along the buildings when I heard...”

She faltered, Abaki wet her lips and glanced at Hisoka and Magikana before she continued, “I heard Drake and Jasper. They were talking loudly while coming out of an alley. Something told me to hide, so I ducked behind some barrels where I could watch them. Drake was laughing, teasing Jasper about how he was a horrible fighter. And how that skinny little fag-” Abaki paused, unable to bring herself to say the full word, “How that person wouldn’t be around to get in the way anymore thanks to himself.”

“I just knew they were talking about you, and as soon as they were out of sight I ran into the alley to look for you. I found traces of blood on the ground, but that’s all I could find. I knew they did something to you s-so I ran back t-to find K-kana a-and…”

Body trembling, her words stuttered to a stop. Abaki’s eyes brimmed with tears, a single drop falling to her white knuckled fists. Hesitantly, Hisoka reached over and began to rub his friend’s back in attempts to aid in some form of comfort. He was concerned for her, he had seen her upset before, but not like this.

“We found you in dumpster,” the magician continued in Abaki’s place. Her voice had become cold and unforgiving as the scenes of that night replayed behind her eyes. Hisoka looked back at her to see the expression on her face matched the tone of voice.

“From condition, zey obviously had continued zeir assault vile you vere unable to fight back. I carried you back to inn, ven doctor made sure you vere stable and vould live, I confronted Drake and Jasper with Moritonio. Zey denied it at first, but Abaki told vaht she heard. Camilla came forvard as vell.”

Hisoka blinked, “Camilla? ♣”

“My brother had been saying how much he hated you, and wanted to… hurt you, for sometime now,” a voice cut in. All three of them turned to the source of the newcomer to find Camilla peaking through the door Magikana had left cracked open. Her eyes were red, and somewhat swollen; a dour expression rested upon her tear stained face. She glanced at the small group looking her direction before pushing the door further open to step into the room.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stated softly, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” “It is alright, my dear,” Magikan replied gently and gestured to a chair near the bed on Abaki’s side. Camilla hesitated then set the bag of supplies down on the floor close to the wall, closed the door softly, and shuffled across the room to sit in the chair.

Hisoka watched Camilla as she settled into her seat with a defeated posture. She glanced up at him and held his gaze. Her soft brown eyes were burdened with grief and sorrow. Tears began to dot the corners of her eyes the longer she looked at Hisoka.

“I am so sorry, Hisoka,” she sobbed, “I honestly didn’t think my brother would do this to you. I’ve always known h-him to be s-so gentle.” Camilla broke the eye contact she was holding with Hisoka and her expression darkened with anger and hatred.

“I still blame that homophobic bastard, Drake,” she seethed, “he poisoned Jasper and turned him into what he is now.” She shook her head and furiously scrubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. Tears of a multitude of emotion were now streaming down her face. Hisoka stared at Camilla with a neutral expression while Abaki tried to comfort her; speaking gentle words and holding her hand.

Something tells me Drake didn’t have to taint Jasper very much for his inner demons to come out, ♣ Hisoka thought to himself. He turned his gaze to his trainer who was also watching Abaki and Camilla with a doleful look. However, Hisoka could still see anger smoldering in her eyes.

“Where are they now? Jasper and Drake? ♣” he inquired.

She took a slow, deep breath in and out through her nose before responding, “Exiled from zee troupe. Once Moritonio was positive zey had committed such crimes, zey vere both told to leave and zat zey had no chance of ever rejoining his troupe. Zere hatred to zose vizen zee troupe vill not be tolerated.”

Hisoka blinked and furrowed his brow as he processed what his trainer had just told him. He felt elated that his assailants were gone and could no longer trouble him; yet dissatisfied that banishment was the only punishment they received for nearly taking his life. The corners of his mouth dipped down and his hands curled into fits, this did not bode well with him.

“Is that really all the punishment they received? ♠”

Camilla, Abaki, and Magikana all looked at Hisoka with expressions of apprehension. Hisoka could feel his anger coil and writhe inside him like agitated snakes. Their venom ran hot through his veins and his eye twitched.

“They nearly took my life, shouldn’t there be a greater repercussion for their actions? ♠”

“Hisoka, I know you’re mad, but, what more do you think should be done?” Abaki asked. She was leaning forward in an attempt to see Hisoka’s face and get a better read on his thoughts.

“The troupe meant everything to Drake, and I’m the only family Jasper has left,” Camilla added, “They lost all that was dear to them because of what they did to you. They lost their livelihood. Isn't that enough?”

Hisoka opened his mouth to answer vehemently but caught himself. He took note of the looks on Abaki and Camilla’s face. Magikana watched him carefully with narrowing eyes.

“Vaht, exactly, do you zink would have been enough, little vun?”

It dawned on Hisoka there would most likely be trouble if he continued further on his current train of thought. They simply did not see the world as he did. He would need to change things up and play a different hand.

“It’s just, shouldn’t the authorities have been called as well? How do you know they won’t commit hate crimes on someone else? ♣” he whispered, feigning concern. He honestly didn’t care what Drake or Jasper did to anyone else besides Abaki and Magikana; maybe Camilla as well since her demise would greatly affect Abaki.

“Hmm,” the magician hummed, looking over her apprentice as though she didn’t fully believe his words. However, she answered none the less. “Tonio did not want zem involved in zee troup’s business. He figured banishment vould be good enough.”

Hisoka pressed his lips together tightly. Despite his own frustrations, he knew there was no point in arguing further. Nodding his head in response he allowed his posture to droop and a look of exhaustion washed of him. He forged a yawn to seal the look. With a full belly of good food combined with a bruised and battered body, Hisoka was indeed tired; just not as tired as he portrayed.

Seemingly, the ruse was enough to fool his trainer; as she smiled softly and gently ruffled his hair.

“Rest, little vun, the sooner you recover zee better,” she stood and collected the tray of dirty breakfast dishes. “Abaki, Camilla, come vith me.”

Abaki gave Hisoka a very gentle shoulder bump along with a small smile.

“I’ll see you after you get some more rest, okay, Hiso?”

Hisoka only responded with a tired smile. Abaki slid off the bed and Camilla retrieved a bottle of water from the bag she had brought in with her. Not looking at Hisoka, she placed it on the nightstand then turned to head out of the room. She and Abaki followed Magikana out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

The falsetto smile fell away from Hisoka’s lips the moment he heard the door knob latch into place. A snarl curled his lips in place of the smile, his eyes narrowed and white hot anger prickled the back of his neck.

Those two got off too easily,♠ his mind seethed, fists tightening around his covers in a merciless deathgrip. He wanted to find them, do horrible things to them, but he knew now was not the time. He was wounded and needed to heal, regain his strengths. But once he did, there would be other matters.

Jasper wouldn’t be a problem; Drake, on the other hand, has much more experience than I do...♠ Hisoka shifted his pillows around and settled back while in thought. I need to train more, become stronger. ♣

He twitched when sudden memories seared his mind. Flashes of being held down, beaten, abused, and raped.

No… Not just stronger, I need to become the strongest.♢

He was usually the weaker one in past situations, never able to defend and fight back effectively. Hisoka did know how to fight, somewhat, as he was a very quick learner. He had watched others fight and ended up in more than his fair share around the area he had once lived with his mother. For someone with so little experience, Hisoka would be considered a pretty decent fighter by most. However, “decent” was not good enough for the red haired teen.

Not only did Hisoka want to become stronger, he wanted to become the best fighter there ever was and ever would be. He felt a wicked, sadistic grin spread wide across his face as he imagined himself older and more experienced while fighting Drake.

Hisoka would toy with him, making Drake suffer as his spirit broke and slowly crumbled before the mighty red haired fighter. He would be sure to take his time, savoring every ounce of pain and misery his opponent would experience; all while a crushed and dying Jasper lay at his feet like a crumpled worthless doll.

Hisoka let out a small, quiet moan as he imagined a broken and defeated Drake begging an older Hisoka to spare his life. These thoughts of absolutely dominating and destroying his opponents were beginning to arouse him. Something that often happened when the teen would become lost in these morbid daydreams.

Not long before he left home, Hisoka had found himself daydreaming about harming and destroying those that had harmed him. He had been a little surprised to find that not only did he really enjoy these thoughts, but had been aroused by them as well. He knew that any “normal” person would be horrified by this, but now Hisoka found it to be more curious than anything.

In truth, he had indeed been disturbed by his reactions at first. But after a little experimenting with himself, Hisoka found the experience to be quite pleasurable in a matter he actually enjoyed. Interestingly enough, he noticed that he even seemed to enjoy certain types of pain that would highlight the pleasures. And once he was done and spent, he felt calmer and more clear minded once having been relieved by the mental images of his enemies broken and beaten.

A state that Hisoka now found himself in once he had calmed down from his high and cleaned himself up. He settled back against his pillows, tilted his head back, and closed his eyes. His mind carefully went over his current situation and what options he had before him.

It’s not like I can do a lot of physical training just yet, ♠ he mused, But I do suppose I could practice my Ten. ♣

Hisoka adjusted his position a bit then turned his focus inward, concentrating on his aura.

Magikana

A little over a week had passed since Hisoka had violently awoken from his coma. The day after the horrific event, an easy routine fell into place. Hisoka would rest and take things easy while Abaki and Camilla would explore the town and beach. On occasion Magikana would join them, collecting starfish and buying fresh fruits from the local market.

After Hisoka had a few days to rest, Abaki started to join him for Nen practice. During these times, Camilla would hang around Magikana who had taken notice of the girl's reluctance to be alone for too long.

“How are you holding up, my dear?” Kana asked one day while the two sipped tea and read books in the warm sunshine near the peers. Having been lost in her book, the girl jumped when she realized she was being spoken to.

“Oh, uh, fine I guess,” she stammered softly. She continued staring at the same word for a few more minutes then sighed, closed the book, and set it in her lap. The fire dancer trainee met the magician's gentle gaze before she spoke.

“Kana, I know Hisoka is your apprentice, but,” she hesitated, not sure it was wise to continue. Magikana held her smile in place as she closed her own book, giving the young teen her full attention.

“It is alright child, I know Hisoka can be… difficult.”

“Tch, that’s an understatement,” Camilla muttered under her breath. Magikana felt an eyebrow twitch and was thankful Camilla didn’t see it.

“I know you and Abaki trust him, but do you really think he’s safe?”

“Vaht do you mean?” the elder one inquired. Camilla sighed once more and rubbed her arm.

“I dunno, I just get this feeling that Hisoka is… unstable? I feel like he could do a lot of harm if he got angry enough. I mean, you saw how he started to react when he felt Jasper and Drake didn’t receive enough for what they did. I seriously thought he was going to lash out or something.”

Magikana mulled over the trainee’s words for a bit. She had indeed seen the anger in her student’s eyes and sensed the malice churning in his aura. This negative energy was often called “bloodlust” among nen users. And even though the magician could not see nen nor create nen of her own, her natural senses could feel it; much like a sixth sense.

“Like many in zee troupe, Hisoka has suffered more zan his fair share of hardships, even at so young,” Magikana started slowly, “I believe he suffered great ordeals before ve found him. Maybe even forced to do terrible things. Zere is anger and hurt inside him, causes him to lash out before he has time to zink.”

Magikana paused in her words, choosing what to say next very carefully.

“You ask if Hisoka is safe to be around, I honestly believe he is. But like anyone else, he has limits. Drake and Jasper not only harassed zose he cares about, but hurt him and left him for dead. He has every right to feel zee way he does.”

Camilla worried her lip as she thought about what the magician said. It looked as if she wanted to argue against what Magikana was saying, yet she remained silent. She shifted her gaze out to the ocean leaving the choice of action open to either silence or continued conversation. Camilla was not a confrontational person and rarely spoke her mind unless she was severely emotional or absolutely sure about what she had to say.

“You do not have to like Hisoka, my dear,” Magikana gave the young teen a gentle smile, “just try to be understanding.”

The trainee glanced at Magikana and nodded, returning the smile with a small one of her own.

Magikana gave a single nod of her head then stood and stretched. The sun was slowly beginning to set, alighting the sky in a beautiful array of warm colors.

“I am heading back to zee inn, vould you care to join me?”

“Mmm, no, thank you,” Camilla replied while staring out to sea, “I think I am going to remain here for a little longer.” Her voice drifted off in thought.

“Suit yourself.”

On the way back to Hisoka’s room the magician ran into the acrobat trainee.

“Oh! Hi Kana,” the teen glanced behind the magician, “Cammy not with you?”

“Cammy?” Magikana questioned, raising an eyebrow as a knowing smile crept only her lips.

“Ah! I mean Camilla!” Abaki flustered as her cheeks started to darken with blush.

The magician chuckled and she thumbed over her shoulder.

“Thanks!” Abaki then ran down the rest of the steps and out the inn’s front entryway.

“Ah, young love,” Magikana chuckled to herself and sighed as she briefly reminisced about her own romance days past. She continued up the stairs and headed to Hisoka’s room to find his door wide open.

There, she found a tired looking Hisoka sitting alone at a table and starting a game of solitaire with himself. He had been secluding himself away since the incident; often deep in thought and spoke in as few words as possible. The only company he accepted was when he and Abaki would practice nen or he would practice magic tricks with Magikana, and even then he didn’t respond like he normally would. This bothered the magician.

For the few months she had known Hisoka, he never seemed to be much of a people person; one may even consider him to be a bit shy. But he was usually more than willing to be friendly and talkative when it came to the company of Abaki or Magikana. Even the company of Moritonio was liked by the lad.

But this withdrawn, quite Hisoka was not the same boy she had quickly grown to care about. She knew he was hurting; maybe even suffering. The doctor had given him the all clear just yesterday, so physically he was fine. It was after Abaki had fully told him about the events of the night he had come so close to death by his own hands that Hisoka seemed to retreat within himself. While Magikana had tried to get him to talk to her about what was going on in his head, she didn’t want to push the matter too hard out of concern it would cause a negative impact.

Magikana quietly approached Hisoka and sat in the empty chair across from him. He glanced up at her and gave her a small, tired small then returned back to his game with a pensive expression. The two sat in silence for a while, both of them focusing on the cards being played. As the magician watched Hisoka slowly sort the cards it reminded her something, giving her an idea.

“Did you know,” Magikana started quietly, “zat zere is a vay to predict zee future by using zese very cards?”

Hisoka paused in his action and looked up at his trainer with a single thin eyebrow quirked up. Magikana took this as an answer.

“Ah, so you did not know. Vell,” she picked up and examined the Jack of Hearts, “it is practice called ‘cartomancy.’ Each card has meaning, and ven played in a spread, zey can answer questions or tell your fortune.”

“Sounds like superstitious nonsense to me, ♣” the boy chuckled with faint amusement, “especially coming from someone who can’t see or use nen. ♠”

“Zhere is more to zee world zan zose who are nenless and zose who can use it, little vun,” Magikana replied candidly, “it is not all black and vite, zere is so much grey. I vould say I fall into zat grey area, no?”

Hisoka pondered for a moment then gave a small shrug with a head tilt and nodded. Magikana had proven on more than one occasion she had some abnormally keen sense for one who was nenless.

“Yes, but simple playing cards telling one's fortune? That still seems to be a little far fetched. ♣”

Magikana chuckled, “Vell, if you are so sure, how about we give it a try?”

Hisoka smirked, leaned back in his chair, and made a hand gesture over the cards on the table for his trainer to take them. Pleased to be getting more of a reaction out of her apprentice, Magikana returned the smirk and quickly swept up the cards with expert hands.

“Ve vill do simple spread,” she explained while shuffling the cards in a blur of motion, “I vill have you draw zree cards zree times, setting zem down from left to right, top to bottom.”

She set the deck down and sat back in her chair as Hisoka followed her instruction. Once Hisoka had made a three-by-three square out of the cards, his trainer continued.

“Zee top row represents the past,” Magikana noticed Hisoka stiffen ever so slightly. She carried on, “zee middle row is for zee present, and of course, zee last row is to show zee possible future. Now, please turn zee top row face up.”

Hisoka hesitated to follow orders this time. He even looked as though he had paled somewhat.

“Vaht is wrong, little vun? It is only silly superstition, yes?”

Hisoka forced a chuckle and waved his hand dismissively at the rows of cards.

“Of course, nothing to fear. ♣” Yet the apprentice still hesitated.

“Hisoka, my dear, I promise you zat vaht ever zee cards show will be kept between you and me. It is no business of any vun else. Okay?” Magikana’s voice was warm and gentle, her expression kind and caring. The apprentice looked his master in the face, carefully studying it.

Is he really so scared I vill judge him for his past? I vonder…

Slowly, Hisoka reached for the cards and flipped them one at a time, revealing the seven of hearts, queen of spades, and two of spades. Magikana made sure to keep her face in a neutral expression as she studied the cards and mentally sorted their meanings.

A dark haired vomen vith broken promises and deceit. Zere vas tough choices and change, too… Could zis have been a family member?

She took in a breath through her nose before she spoke, “Your recent past… Zere vas a voman who hurt you, lied to you and broke promises, yes?”

Hisoka’s eyes widened a fraction and the color drained from his face a little more. He swallowed hard and delivered a tiny single nod. Magikana’s heart ached, her gut told her there was so much more to this.

“She vas family?” Hisoka nodded again. He had only mentioned one family member the entire time she had known him. She decided to try her luck.

“It vas your muzza, vasn’t it.” The words fell as a statement, not a question. Hisoke hesitated, then nodded very slowly.

I see, Magikana thought to herself, a child should be able to rely on zere muzza and be protected by zem, not be hurt by zem…

The magician noticed Hisoka looked very uncomfortable and stressed. It was obvious to her that the conversation was making him uneasy.

Zee poor boy has been zrough enough, maybe anozer time we can talk more ven he is ready…

“Let's continue, shall vee? Go ahead and flip zee next row.”

Hisoka blinked, it appeared he had expected his trainer to press the topic further. He stared for a moment longer then tried to hide a sigh of relief. His shoulders relaxed a little and he smirked as though he had been amused at his own unease.

Next to be revealed was the nine of spades, two of clubs, and the four of hearts. Magikana’s heart sank.

Challenges and depression followed by travel. Not much better, but I suppose it vas to be expected. Vaht vit his past cards are saying and vaht he just vent zrough, I vould be more vorried if he vas unphased. But still…

“Vell, zee cards see zat vee are traveling soon,” she said with a light laugh, “zee four of hearts say ‘travel is on the horizon’. Is right, vee leave first zing in zee morning.”

“Oh, and what do the other cards say? ♣” Hisoka was curious, yet sported a cocky smirk.

Magikana felt the corners of her mouth drop a little and her expression towards her apprentice softened.

“Zat you are going zrough some hard times here,” she gave the side of her head a few light taps then moved her finger to rest over her heart, “and here.”

Hisoka’s face twitched yet his expression remained.

“Oh?~ ♣”

Magikana pressed her lips together forming them into a slim line. She wanted to proceed, yet she could tell her apprentice had recovered from his initial surprise and thrown up a thick wall. Hisoka was frustratingly good at avoiding straight answers. Not to mention he had a nearly perfect poker face.

“As I said, little vun, ven you are ready to talk, I am more zan villing to listen,” the magician said with a small sigh, “but I vill not force you if you feel as zough you are not ready to speak yet.”

An emotion shifted in Hisoka’s eyes, to fleeting for Magikana to decipher.

“I appreciate that, sensei. ♡” He spoke in a conciliatory tone, faint smirk on his lips, “But I’m afraid my thoughts, both past and present, would be too troubling to reveal. ♠”

The magician regretted her decision to not press further when her apprentice was caught off guard. Concern began to rise that she had just missed her only chance to get the redheaded teen to open up.

“Troubling for who?” she inquired calmy.

“Why, the both of us,~ ♠” Hisoka humdrummed, appearingly now bored with the topic. Magikana frowned slightly.

“Perhaps,” she continued with caution, “even so, I stand by my vords, ‘if you need to speak, I vill alvays have time to listen’. Even if vaht you have to say are not good zings, I vill listen. Everyone needs a friendly ear at some point in zere life.”

Hisoka paused, a crack appeared in the mask he was holding. He licked his lips and a wild glint shown in his molten gold eyes.

“Even if those troubles make you see me as a monster?~ ♢” he spoke barely above a whisper.

“I vould not say you are monster, my dear, but someone who has been found in a place vith little to no choice.”

“You could say that… ♣” Hisoka’s voice trailed off. He looked down at the cards, narrowing his eyes in thought. Magikana said nothing, allowing her apprentice to make his own decisions. The seconds felt like hours as she waited.

He blinked a few times as more of his mask began to crumble. He took a slow, deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

“Hiso! Kana! You’ve gotta come see this!” Abaki shouted excitedly as she came bursting into the room, causing both trainer and trainee to jump and turn towards her. “The beach is all covered in this bright blue glowy stuff! It’s soooo pretty!”

Magikana felt her temper flair, “Child, do you not know how to knock? Is rude to burst into a room like zat.”

“Oh,” Abaki faltered, looking back and forth between Hisoka and Magikana, “I’m sorry did I interrupt something?”

“Ye-”

“No, Abaki, you didn’t. ♣” Hisoka interrupted his trainer cooly, “Just some rather dull chit chat is all. ♠”

“But, it looks like you were playing a game.” the acrobat noticed.

“Something like that. More like superstitious nonsense, to be honest, ♣” Hisoka sighed as he stood from his chair, “So, you said the beach is glowing? ♢”

Abaki started as she remembered why she had come in the first place. “Yeah! Cammy said it’s a special type of plankton that glows, I think you two will like it! Come check it out.”

“Alright,~ ♡” Hisoka scooped up a pair of slip-on shoes as he started to follow his friend who bolted back down the hall. He paused at the open door and turned back to his trainer who was now looking down at the cards with an evasive expression.

“Thank you, Kana,” the red head spoke sincerely; using his teacher's shortened name as means of endearment, “while you did not get to hear what you wanted, it is good to know that someone is so willing to listen. ♡ Perhaps another time.~ ♣”

Magikana looked up at her pupil and felt a small amount of relief touch her mind as she recognized the Hisoka she had grown to care about. She then simply nodded her head and began to pick up the cards one by one off the table. Hisoka hesitated, he could see his teacher working her jaw in frustration. For a moment it looked like he was about to say something else. But instead, he simply smirked then turned and followed after his friend.

Once she was sure her apprentice was out of earshot, Magikana began to mutter a slew of curses and swears under her breath in sheer annoyance.

“Damn zat child,” she huffed, “both of zem! Superstitious nonsense, ha!” She went to pick up the last three cards of the spread and paused. Traditionally, the cards were to be revealed by the ones who drew them. Not to mention it was considered to be ill practice and rude to look into someone's business without their permission. Magikana could just add the cards back to the deck without looking, however…

She pursed her lips and wiggled her fingers above the first card before she finally shrugged in a “fuck it” manner. She turned the first card representing Hisoka’s near future over.

Ah! Zee ace of hearts. So a new relationship is in Hisoka’s near future. Perhaps he vill meet a new friend on our travels, yes?

Magikana couldn’t help but smile a little. Her apprentice most definitely needed more friends. She turned over the next card with a little more enthusiasm.

Five of clubs, it seems zis new friend vill be supportive of zee little vun. Zis is turning out to be promising.

The magician eagerly turned over the last card and froze, fingers still touching the card. She felt her heart drop one again as she stared at the seven of spades.

Bad advice, grief, and loss… Oh, little vun, vaht do zee fates have in store for you? . . .

~ ~ ~

📜 A/N: Thank you all so much for you patience. Life has been stressful as of late with trying to get myself situated in buying a house before the one I am living in currently sells out from underneath me.

Hopefully I can come out with content on a more regular basis once things settle down. However, there really isn't much tell as to when that will be at this point in time.On a side note, I think I will be putting this story on the back burner for a little while. Chapter 4 really took it outta me. That's another reason this chapter took so long in coming out. I plan to write some fluffy/smutty stuff to recharge my batteries and then I will come back to this OC story. At this point in time, I am planning to start rewriting the older chapters from here on out when I do come back.

Anywho, thanks again for reading! Please don't forget to "heart" the chapter if you enjoyed it, and I'll catch ya'll in the next one! Laters! ^_^

~ ~ ~

Previous Chapter: Ch. 4 - On Death’s Doorstep

Next Chapter: Bubblegum Blood: Ch. 6 - The One and Only, Sadashi Ito

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guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom · 4 years ago

Text

Hell and Back Pt. 2

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warnings: Language, hospital mentions, mentions of drug abuse, allusions to suicide, allusion to self harm, self deprecating thoughts, a gun, mentions of knives, mentions of the dead, anxiety, signs of abuse, abusive and toxic relationships, and fainting.

Word Count: 6.1k

Songs: Pleaser-Wallows, 505-Artic Monkeys, Sweater Weather- The Neighborhood, Daddy Issues- The Neighborhood, Paper Planes- M.I.A, We come running- Youngblood Hawke, Young dumb and broke- Khalid, Do I wanna know- Artic Monkeys, Break the Rules- Charli XCX

“I smiled, I know as much as we get into petty arguments or try to annoy each other on purpose but I’d go to hell and back for those girls. And that’s exactly what I was going to do.”

A/N: There might be some typos and grammatical errors sorry for those, I you want to be added to the Taglist just message me about or comment it. I’ll have a google form for it soon.

Series Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

When I saw my little sisters, that all went away. Sure I still called them a lot but nothing could compare to actually seeing them in person. Sapphire launched herself into my arms and I stumbled back a bit.

“I missed you too,” I said.

I hugged Aaliyah too. When I entered the apartment I heard voices. My dad’s and some feminine voice.

I walked in to find some woman who couldn't be older than 25 in my kitchen. Talking and laughing with my dad. I didn’t want to assume anything or start a scene so I just went into my room to catch up with my sisters.

We were talking about some kid who gave me a DMT pen once and I was tripping balls which I probably shouldn’t be talking about, but I want them to feel comfortable enough to come to me. Makes it easier to keep them safe.

Our dad opened the door and hung in the doorway.

“Hey… Y/N do you mind coming here for a sec?”

“Yeah sure…”

I stepped out of the room.

“Is something wrong?” It wasn’t often that he initiated a conversation that would end positively.

“No,no, not at all, I just want you to meet someone,”

When I entered the kitchen the same woman from before was still there. My dad walked over to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“This is my girlfriend, Camilla”

I knew it . I knew it! I was trying not to be hostile toward her every problem I had was towards my dad so I smiled and waved to her.

“Camilla this is Y/N,” he pointed to me.

“Well I’ll let y’all get acquainted,” He said before leaving the room.

I sat on the kitchen island and waited for her to say something first.

“Look, I would just like to put it out there that I’m not trying to replace your mom in anyway.”

“Thanks I appreciate it,”

“Also, are you okay now?” She asked in a low voice.

“Huh?” I questioned.

“Your dad said you ran away,” Of course he did “and I saw the news with your school at the Washington Monument.” So I guess she knew more about me then expected. Not surprised she was the one to ask me and not my so called dad.

“Thanks for your concern but I’m fine, and sorry to cut this conversation short but I’m drained.”

“Oh, okay, have a nice night,”

“You, too,”

I didn’t have time to think about anything. I just made it back to my room and face planted onto my bed. My whole being was sore including my brain. I didn’t have the energy to change my clothes, to shower, to think about my dad being a pathological liar or anything else that happened today.

I was awoken by my dad. I didn't know how long I slept but the sun was out. I can’t remember the last time I was able to sleep while the sun was up.

“Hey we’re going out, for family bonding and I want you there with us,”

Family.

We ain’t ever been a family before why start now. Is what I really wanted to say but I sucked it up because again I hadn’t seen my sisters in a while.

The movie was really boring. If we’re being honest.

I pulled Aaliyah and Sapphire aside as my dad and Camilla were deep in conversation.

“You know how I was staying at Wade’s house right?”

They both nodded.

“What did dad tell you about this,”

Sapphire just shrugged and Aaliyah was the one to post.

“I dunno he didn’t say much like usual he just kinda said you just left,”

I felt my jaw tightening as I processed her words, my fist clenching by my side.

“Oh, oh okay,” I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth a couple times “Well I just want you to know I’d never leave y’all without a very good reason, and I never won’t come back,”

By the time we got back to the house it was around twelve since we watched another movie and went to a restaurant. Then got ice cream. This is the most money my dad could’ve possibly spent on me in a long time. I mean he didn’t because I didn’t get anything and bought my own ticket. I didn’t want him to be able to use the fact he bought me stuff against me. I’d gotten tired of the “after I’ll I’ve done for you,” excuse.

I couldn’t sleep. No matter what I tried I couldn’t sleep. I tried NyQuil, melatonin, and even tea. The tea really did more harm than good.

This was an extremely stupid thing to do so don’t follow my lead but I was bored.

I grabbed a lot of useless shit from the floor of my room and made my way to the roof. I poured hand sanitizer on it and set it on fire. Putting aside the fact that it was really weird the fire was oddly beautiful. I sat there watching it for a minute before stomping it out.

I was going to text my friend Carmen but I realized she was supposed to be asleep and I didn’t want to get her in trouble.

I ended up scrolling through Zillow for a while then that turned into me applying for like four jobs. In which turned into me making spamming multiple friends saying we needed to hang out.

While I was on Zillow there was a relatively cheap apartment in Queens. Which was close to my school. It kept drawing me in for some reason. I bookmarked the tab.

Before I knew it the sun was up. I figured if I couldn’t sleep I would go on a walk to the park.

When I got back to the complex everyone was still asleep except my dad who walked outside like he was waiting on me. He grabbed my arm, squeezing it tightly.

He basically told me I looked like a prostitute. I was running so my sports bra and leggings were actually pretty appropriate. He said that I was probably going out to fuck people and that’s where I always was. I opened my mouth to defend myself.

“Actually I was just going to the-“ I was cut off by a sharp sting on my cheek.

He fucking slapped me. Hard at that. He then grabbed my arm even tighter than before dragging me into the house.

I don’t know what hurt worse my face or that fact that I wouldn’t be able to blame him being drunk on all the times he’d hit me before. He was just an ass.

By the time I made it back to my room it felt like my body was burning itself from the inside out. My face was red and so was my arm from my elbow to almost my wrist. To try to cool myself down I took a cold shower and took some Tylenol.

I still couldn’t sleep but tonight it was because it was so hot. I really needed a fan in my room. It was already 6 so I just decided to get a head start at the school. Not without taking pictures of my bruises before covering them with green concealer and foundation. I wore a hoodie for good measure.

I felt dizzy and decided it was probably best not to skate at the moment and I’m 90% sure I fell asleep on the subway. Apparently we had an art project due which I had no idea existed in the first place so I wasn’t going to that class today. Even though I did truly love Ms. Kramer. I was just gonna skip and go to Bri’s class. Which just happened to be chemistry.

I wasn’t surprised Mr. Cobwell asked no question when I walked in. I ate lunch in his class a couple times, he was chill. He continued on talking about Quantum Theory.

I made Flash move from his seat next to Bri which he immediately did. I guess he was scared of me now.

“Hey,” I said, placing my non bruised side of my face on the desk.

“Hey,” She whispered back. “What class are you supposed to be in?”

“Art,”

“Why are you there? You love art,”

“I’m not feeling it today,”

“Alright,” she nodded.

“Lemme use your AirPods,”

She reached into her bag handing them over going back to taking notes. That didn’t last long.

“What ya watching?” She asked.

“Bad Girls Club,” I smiled knowing she liked this show.

“What season?”

“7,” I whispered because now I felt too weak to waste my energy on speaking. I placed the phone on my lap and she took the other AirPod and before I knew I class was over with Tasha throwing trash everywhere.

I figured I was feeling sick because my blood sugar was low or something so I drank some Apple juice at lunch and called it a day.

Now time for Physics. I hate physics. Why would science ever require so much math?

It was so hot. Like on the face of the sun, hot but I couldn’t take my hoodie off because I felt like I’d sweat my foundation off.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked me “You look pale,” I swear if he doesn’t learn to mind his business.

“I’m fine,” I told him, not sure if I was trying to convince him or myself, I gestured to his notebook. “Do your work,”

“Alright fine,” he said reluctantly, glancing at me once before getting back to writing whatever we were supposed to be doing down.

I pulled my hoodie back over my head and sat up in my seat about to try to do my work again. But it was so hot and I was so dizzy that I couldn’t focus.

The world began to swirl and I knew the switch in my brain was going to flip off. I just didn’t have time or enough energy to tell anyone.

When I woke up I was in a bed in the nurse's office and the first thing I noticed was I didn’t have my hoodie. Shit. I used to make fun of people for passing out because how does your own body clock out on you? Until it started happening to me like last year.

I went into the bathroom and sure enough the giant bruise on my cheek and arm were kinda visible.

Again shit.

I patted my forehead with a cold paper towel because the nurse’s bathroom actually had paper towels unlike all the others, before the nurse came back.

“Hello, Are you feeling okay?”

I nodded. She smiled down at me before giving me water and checking my temperature.

“You have a fever,” she said after looking down at the thermometer “We called dad to come and pick you up but we got no answer. Is there anyone else that can come and take you?”

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

I drank some more of the water before speaking up.

“I have a friend who’s at this school she could maybe drop me off?”

“I’m not sure if that’s allowed,” she said.

“You know what? Go back to class, get your friend and come right back.”

I pushed off the bed and headed out of the nurses office surprised to find Peter sitting on the bench outside it.

“Are you okay?” He asked me again

“Yes I’m okay” I nodded. Apparently I wasn’t as okay as I thought because I almost tripped over my leg trying to move. But Peter immediately reached his hand out to stabilize me. And I don’t know why that made me as angry as it was but I said “I don’t need you to help,” harsher than I need to.

“Sorry,” I said calmly almost immediately after.

“It’s okay,” He said scratching the back of his neck.

“If you don’t mind me asking where’d these bruises come from,”

“I fell,” was all I said. He looked skeptical but that was all he was going to get, I didn’t need CPS all up in my business. That’s also payback for him lying to me about “cat scratches”.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked.

“Yeah, anything,” he said.

“Can you go get Briana from Mr. Dell’s class for me?”

“Yeah I’ll be right back,” he said before sprinting down the hallway. I giggled at his giddiness. It was still extremely hot everywhere my body was tingling.

Bri ran towards me

“Oh my god are you okay,”

“I’m fine, I just need you to talk to the nurse with me real quick,”

She apparently didn’t have her car with her today so she was a no go.

“I’m sorry girl,” she said, pulling me into a hug.

“It’s okay, go back to class now,” I said.

“Alright feel better,”

I walked back out of the office to find none other than Peter still waiting there.

“So what happened?” He asked.

“Looks like I’m walking home,” I smiled sarcastically. “Yay,”

“I can walk you home,”

“No, thank you”

“I insist,” I laughed again

“I still think that word is funny,” I said.

“Okay, now let me walk you home,”

We were walking in no general direction. No one but MJ and Bri know my address and I’d like to keep it that way.

“Wait, you need food,” He claimed.

We ended up at this place called Delmar’s Deli. I’d passed it a couple times while walking home and during my less legal “hobby”. I really wasn’t hungry at all. I took all of like two bites from my sandwich claiming I’d take it to go before throwing it away. It wasn’t bad, it was quite good, actually I just wasn’t hungry.

“My aunt is a nurse at an emergency room, she can check you out,” I hate anything that's anything like a hospital at all brings terrible memories, but I didn’t want him to know where I lived so I agreed. I’d ditch him then.

It took us a while to get there but by the time we did I had to stop and catch my breath. He offered to walk me home and got me food. What a Spiderman thing to do. I’d say I had much solid proof to go on by now.

“Peter!” The gorgeous brunette woman came over to the waiting room “What are you doing here don’t you have school?”

“Yeah but my friend-“ When her eyes ghosted over to my face she cut herself off. “Oh my God are you okay,” she referred to my bruises “What happened to you?”

“Did Flash do this to her?” She asked Peter and I had to stifle a laugh at that. I wish he would try to lay a finger on me.

“No, she just told me she fell, we’re here cause she fainted and I don’t know if the school nurse is very capable of actually helping,”

Is this a new thing Peter just decides to randomly worry about me for no good reason and forces me into taking care of myself. Because I hate it.

“Oh, ok,” She nodded her head. “Grab one of those questionnaires over there,” She pointed to the sign in table. “Are your parents going to come too?” She asked and I shook my head.

She and Peter moved over to the side and started talking about something I had no interest in. I grabbed the questionnaire and sat on the edge of the closest seat.

1. What’s your age?

That’s easy 15.

2. Specify your race

African American of course.

3. Select your highest level of education

Some high school

4. What’s your marital status?

Single never married. Unless you count that un-ordained wedding I once had.

5. Specify your employment status

A student.

6. Have you ever been treated in an emergency room (specify age)?

Yes, as a child.

7. Have you ever been rushed to the hospital? If yes, do you remember why?

Okay wow. Yes.

I sat on the cold bathroom floor, vision blurry from tears forming in my eyes.

“Y/N, you okay in there?” I heard my brother ask after lightly rapping his fingers on the door.

“Yeah, I’m okay!”

No I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay at all. In fact I was the farthest thing from okay. I glanced down at my thighs, you could see cuts from the night before and scars peeking out from underneath my shorts. I was sobbing at this point.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure if it was for myself or to everyone I knew I’d hurt by this. I already had the headache. I was just waiting for the rest of the pills to kick in.

I was holding onto the sink for support when the left side of my body started to feel tingly. The whole situation felt hazy. I was shaking hard before I fell, taking almost everything on the sink with me.

My head hit the bathmat and I could feel my heart slowing and hear my breath become shallow. I heard the doorknob jingle and that was the last thing before a feeling of true bliss and peace took over my body.

I could hear screams and sirens and I knew I was in an ambulance. Slowly I awoke with wires all over my body and an IV in my wrist. My limbs were dead weight, I couldn’t move.

A single tear fell from my eye alerting me off my surroundings. I quickly came back to myself. I made up the excuse of a family emergency and left.

I ended up halfway across the city. Then in Brooklyn visiting a friend.

I knocked on the window of Aaron’s apartment. I could see Miles sitting on the couch.

“How’ve things been over here?” I asked once I was settled on the couch as well.

“Uh, pretty tame, and you?”

“There was that whole elevator stunt and I almost fucking died which was fun.”

“Forgot you never take anything seriously,” He rolled his eyes.

I laughed in response “Well one of us has got to be fun for us since it’s clearly not you,”

“In celebration of me not dying I’m making sundaes,”

“Alright,” He said leaning back on the couch.

“Hey uh, When’s Aaron coming back?” I asked, getting the whipped cream out of the fridge.

“I’m not sure,”

This is actually like really fucking dangerous. Like it could kill me. It’s just I was already in pain and had a headache. I also wasn’t thinking. I’d already made the sundaes. I turned around so Miles couldn’t see what I was doing before I- Okay I’m not going to do this. Get it together God you’re acting like an addict. The amount of people who’ve died from inhalants were insane. There it is again death.

“Drawn anything new lately?” I asked, wanting to get my mind off of the topic of death that seemed to be plaguing my brain lately.

“Some small sketches,”

I got the text that’d I been waiting for. I’d been talking to Aaron for the past few days. I’m not sure how Miles would feel about that. So I haven’t said anything.

But I got the text.

Staten Island Ferry 3pm

I immediately popped up from the couch.

“I have to go like right now, it’s an emergency,”

I sprinted towards the door almost running into the punching bag in front of me.

“Y/N-“

It’d been a week and things were looking up. I had a great day yesterday without the use of any drug. But nothing good ever lasts too long. I didn’t have to worry about that now. What I needed to worry about, was getting Peter to stop falling on his ass.

I tried not to laugh at him and failed.

“It’s not funny,” he said, pulling me down with him as I reached out to pull him up. Soon he was laughing too.

I felt a vibration in my pocket and saw that Aaron texted me.

hey the results from the search came in.

what???? don’t play with me I’m on my way right now.

“Uh hey I gotta go sorry,”

“No it’s fine I probably should get home too,” He pushed off the ground reaching down for me.

“Do you wanna do this again tomorrow?” He asked a hopeful glint in his eye once we were both on our feet.

“Yeah sounds nice,” I smiled.

“Okay,” He nodded.

“Okay,” I echoed heading off.

Ned was being fucking stupid.

“NO!” I slammed my hands down on the table “You don’t stab anyone especially if you plan on using bleach to clean up the blood. At least use vinegar and lemon,”

“Okay, jeez,” he said reeling back, “How would you do it then?”

Before I could say anything MJ spoke up

“You could just use a needle full of air in between their toes, Their heart would fail”

“Orrr,” I said spinning around on top of the table towards Ned. “You could overdose them on potassium and by the time the police get there the potassium in their blood is back at a normal level,”

“Yeah that works too,” MJ stated going back to whatever she was drawing.

“You guys scare me,” Ned muttered making me smile.

“Where’s Peter?” I asked and Ned pointed across the room.

There he was sitting by Liz. It was cute I knew about his little crush on her. I’m sure the whole school did. Glad it’s working out for him. However that did not stop the pain in my stomach.

I got up from the table because suddenly I did not want to be at school anymore.

“Where are you going?” MJ looked up at me.

I shrugged. In all honesty I had no I idea where I was going. Somehow I always end up at Wade’s house when I don’t know where I want to go. He wasn’t home but I had a key. I can’t remember if he gave it to me or I stole if we're being honest.

Clearly I hadn’t passed by a mirror in a while because damn. I look terrible.

My eyes were red and circled with a dark hue from lack of sleep. I still had a yellowing bruise on my cheek. I was pale. I looked to be on the verge of death.

I looked frail, like at any second I’d just fall apart.

It was so unfair. My bones dragged down my body. The pieces of my soul that were mined out and removed from my mind. There’s a hole leaving me forever longing and I cannot fill nor feel. Hiraeth, a beautiful word for a ugly feeling. longing for a home that I never truly had, a home in which I’d never return. I would like to drift to where my spirit lies. It’s in the eyes of you and me and everyone in between. Drifting on a small boat in the sea. Viridian. Yes! That's the place I would like to be, that's where my soul lies yes you see.

I kept punching his punching bag over and over again. Until I was on my back on the floor begging my lungs to allow air into them with Time (Is) by Solange playing on loop. Something put it into my head that I had to kill Vulture. I’d never directly killed anyone but that was gonna change. Having people killed or knowing someone was going to kill someone and not doing anything about isn’t killing anyone in my book, but I’m sure it would be in Spidey’s

That’s literally Liz’s dad though…

Okay maybe I’d just get him locked up. Great now I gotta be a snitch. That’s new. I showered not even caring about my hair now my curls were sticking to my face. I was freezing now though. I didn’t know whether to be glad that my body wasn’t on fire anymore or be upset that I was covered in goosebumps.

Wade’s laptop was sitting right there on his bed. I was only taking a shower but, I think I should be allowed to watch Netflix and he wouldn’t mind, I was already on his account anways.

After like 3 episodes into this random show there was a folder that was calling to me for some reason.

It’d be okay to take a sneak peek. I thought to myself.

I clicked on it and it was locked. I guessed the password in like three tries. He’s really gotta up his password game. It opened to multiple folders, one with my mom's name. Okay I had to click this then.

I opened it which opened to more folders one titled ‘In Case of My Death’.

Okay, okay cool my mother has had a video of what to do all if she died all along. This would’ve come in handy five years ago.

There were three videos with the names of myself and my sisters. I clicked on mine then paused it.

Then unpaused it again.

I couldn’t do it. Okay, yes I could. I played it again. As soon as I heard the beginning of the word “hi”. I shut the computer off. I couldn’t do this. Couldn't do it because I was weak, I couldn’t handle myself. I was stupid and weak and a fucking disappointment. Guess my dad had been right all these years. I knew there was always some truth to the words he spoke only a matter of time until I started acknowledging it.

I don’t remember coming home to the apartment. And I definitely don’t remember writing all over the walls of my dad’s room. But I had a marker in my hands and it looked like a toddler had gone to town.

Holy Shit

He was actually going to murder me, in cold fucking blood. I trashed, the living room area, his room, and then mine. I was not coming home tonight. Looks like I’d need to find a new home now. At this point that sounded like a pretty solid plan.

I text my sisters a quick text ‘stay at grandma’s house tonight dad is going to pissed like Super Sayian mode’ before grabbing my go-bag which was: a bag of the essentials, like hygiene a couple shirts, shorts, hoodies, pants, and of course the flash drive can't forget the flash drive.

The flash drive that’s driving me crazy. I’d yet to open it though. I knew I was crazy because I did all this while fucking sobbing.

I wandered around for hours. Making my way to Brooklyn, Manhattan, Harlem, AND actual New York City.

Somehow I still ended up at Olivia’s door at the end of the day. I honestly believe we were soulmates. Most people don’t know you get many soulmates in a lifetime. I think Olivia and I would be the karmic kind. A karmic relationship is meant to help you grow, but it is never meant to last—it's often playing out a bad experience from a past life. I’m guessing I hadn’t grown yet because here I was.

She opened the door after a second. I’m surprised she did because I used our special knock so I knew she knew it was me.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore,” I screamed in her face.

“You're the one going off and being secretive and shit, like you’re scared I’m gonna hurt you or something,” she yelled walking up the stairs.

I followed after her,

“Maybe you would hurt me. I don’t know you are insane,” I said, tears brimming my eyes.

“Just because you have fucking daddy issues, doesn’t mean you have to carrying them into every part of your life,”

“I have daddy issues?” I screamed soon turning into me choking on a laugh making an unhinged noise “Oh, I have fucking daddy issues, now? Oh, okay,” I nodded.

“Your parents didn’t even fucking want you,” I pointed at her. “At least my mom stuck around before she died,”

“You’re an asshole, you know that?”

“Yeah well right back at you,”

“You’re fucking psychotic! Literally you’re so much like your dad and you don’t even know it, You’re trying to please him and he doesn’t give two shits about you, Wake up Y/N! Wake up.”

“I’m hard on you because I love you so much,” She claimed, but her love was suffocating.

“Oh yeah? I asked “Well i don’t know how much more of this ’love’ I can take,”

“Fine then,” She screamed.

“Fine,” I said before she slammed the door in my face leaving me standing out in the cold crying.

That wasn’t even the worse we’d said to each other. It was the first but not the last time we’d break up either. I do believe we loved each other though in our own twisted way. Well at least I know I loved her.

“Hey,” She said softly as she could sense I was due to break at any second. My cheeks were probably tear stained.

“Hey,” I whispered back.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“No,” I shook my head. One thing I liked about her is I didn’t have to fake it around her, because masking my real emotions was so draining. At least I didn’t have to do it with everyone.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“No,”

“Okay,” she said softly “My parents aren’t home, so you don’t have to worry about them,” not surprised.

I nodded before she grabbed my hand bringing me inside.

“I missed you,” she said stroking my hair as I laid on her bed, my head in her lap.

“I missed you too,” I wasn’t lying my head drifted to her from time to time. It wasn’t that I wanted to get back together I just missed her presence.

She smiled sadly at me running her finger over the bags on my eyes.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” She quotes.

“Yeah well, ’m not queen or princess and definitely don’t have a crown, so we don’t gotta worry ‘bout me,” I said.

“You’re a princess to me,” I gave a genuine yet tired smile at that.

“You can go to sleep, it’s okay,” She said.

That was the first time I was actually able to fall asleep and without medicine or having to go on a walk or do anything really.

I woke up in the bed alone only to find Olivia sitting at her kitchen island eating spaghetti.

She smiled when she saw me coming into view.

“Sleep well?” She asked.

“Yeah surprisingly,” How long had I been asleep for I wondered.

“It’s 10 pm,” She said, still being able to read me.

I made my way over to her and sat across her.

“So what’s really going on with you miss Y/N?” She questioned.

I shrugged “I don’t know, nothing,”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? Cause I’m not buying,”

I explained to her how my dad was being weird and how I wanted to move out now. How I had pretty much vandalized the house. How I found the video of my mom. Just everything. Well maybe not everything I didn’t tell her about Vulture because I feel like she’d try to do something and I didn’t want her to get hurt.

“Oh wow, damn... holy shit. Are you gonna watch your moms video?” She asked. Huh I hadn’t thought about that.

“I mean of course I will, yeah,” I nodded “Probably, I don’t know I’m scared,”

“Wouldn’t you rather just push the fear back and watch then wonder the rest of your life what it says.”

I sighed. Can't argue with that logic.

“I’m assuming you came here because you need a place to stay?” She said.

“Yes, I need a place to stay just for a while but I don’t want it to seem like I’m just using you I can find somewhere else,”

“Now it’s fine stay as long as you need but my dad gets back at the end of the month and we both know he doesn’t like you,” She chuckled at the last sentence and I laughed too.

I was on the ferry heading towards Staten Island now. I knew the sale was for these weird alien shits but that's pretty much all I knew. I figured I’d sort of “out bid” the buyers then get rid of everything. By outbid I mean straight up steal. Some guy in a white pickup truck is officially my target. Thorn was still on hiatus. Meaning no knives unless you count the pocket knife I always had on me, no suit. I did have a trejo though, you know just in case. I couldn’t help my mind from drifting to Pop Smoke’s “I got it on me”. I let out a small laugh.

I was hiding behind some car waiting for a crack in the plan to slip in.

That was until Spiderman showed up. It’s like he had a sixth sense to ruin all of my plans.

Shit

Well abort mission. Just as I started walking around to get to the side of the boat. The van I was next to had Vulture literally coming out of it. I knew it’d looked familiar.

I made it up to the top deck looking down on everything unfolding. So a quick rundown, the FBI was here, meaning Tony Stark or someone with government clearance probably did something because I highly doubt that Spiderman, the Spiderman that I’ve seen hit a window like a bird while swinging, had any government clearance.

See now I was looking to find a good time to make my escape. That was until that purple alien shit started spewing stuff beams of light through the ship. And fuck, I look away for one second and the new Shocker guy was gone. I turned around and saw he was running in another direction. I chased after him the rubber of my sneakers squeaking on the deck.

I jumped down onto Shocker’s back sending us both to the floor before he pushed me off. I was definitely going to be sore tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I heard something pull in my leg.

He jumped off onto the Vulture and I knew I couldn’t do anything anymore. Not like I was just going to shoot them down in public. I saw the light shooting down the middle of the ferry. I was gonna make a run for it but the loud squeal noise was so loud I fell over. Soon I was slung back into what I think was a bench not entirely sure I just knew it hurt like a bitch.

I’m pretty sure I feel unconscious for like 30 seconds.

But that was enough because the boat had already split in half and I couldn’t get to the deck or a lifeboat. However Spider-Man was frantically trying to get it together.

I was trying to be hopeful because everything was looking up, as the parts of the ship got closer together but I think we all know the saying ‘what goes up must come down’

Over the ringing in my head I could assume that things were fixed because people were cheering. One thing that comes from cheering is movement and if I learned anything from the elevator it’s that moving in a very unstable metal death box is not a good idea.

The ship was falling apart again until it wasn’t. It was pushed back together by I could only assume would be our government clearance guy Tony Stark. I looked out the window and yep there he was.

As soon as I got on solid ground I called my sisters.

“Hiii!” I exclaimed. “Where are you, are you okay?”

“Yes we’re fine, and where at grandma’s house like you told us to go to where else would we be,” I could almost hear the eye roll in Liyah’s voice.

“Okay little Miss attitude stay there until I can feel everything out with dad,”

“Alright,”

“Okay I love you guys,” I said, getting a small “love you too” from Sapphire.

“I know,” was the response I got from Liyah. I almost gasped the audacity of this child.

“Say it back,”

“Say it back,” She mocked, evoking laughter from both sides of the call.

“Okay love you too byeeee,” She said hanging up.

I smiled, I know as much as we get into petty arguments or try to annoy each other on purpose but I’d go to hell and back for those girls. And that’s exactly what I was going to do.

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #reader x peter parker #Peter Parker x Vigilante!Reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x villian!reader #poc reader x peter parker #peter parker x bisexual!reader #peter parker x bi!reader #peter parker x thorn #thorns prick #spiderman x villian #mcu series #mcu x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x thorn

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gascon-en-exil · 4 years ago

Text

A Dark Deity Hype Post

I don't typically do a lot of pre-release hype for games, but as this one is still relatively unknown and as I'm apparently the only person even semi-actively using the Tumblr tag for it I wanted to take a moment to talk about why I'm looking forward to Dark Deity, and why I'll be liveblogging it and possibly doing a video recording of my playthrough over on my Patreon when it comes out. This has nothing whatsoever to do with the drought of FE or similar content lately.

...Okay, that's unfair. Sarcasm aside, I would think it worthwhile for FE fans to check out DD even if we had a new title or remake Genealogy please to look forward to.

Production Values

It's been a work in progress, but the maps, sprites, portraits, and interface shown off in trailers and promo pics have been quite promising: clean and colorful in a style reminiscent of older 2D FE titles while crafting an identity of its own. The routine updates over the past year of development have also been encouraging, as the developers seem willing to take feedback from the community and use it to improve (as particularly happened with a certain character design that initially made Camilla look modest...ahem). All the music clips so far sound fully serviceable, and while I have to wonder if budgeting for voice acting was all that necessary for a game imitating pre-voiced FE there's some interesting names attached to the project.

Story, Worldbuilding, and Characters

The information here is still fairly scattered, but there's a definite level of thought placed into the setting and the character backgrounds. I'm also fine with the story being a typical low fantasy/political war story, which is pretty much as far as FE itself ever aspires. We've seen firsthand over the past two years how much of a headache it can be when fans read political or social commentary into these games that...really isn't there. DD also uses a bond system similar to supports - possibly even using the C-A progression - for added character development, and based on what I've read bonds will be most like Echoes only with far more conversations for each character.

Gameplay Elements

Open-ended class sets/trees and a weapon system that sounds a bit like a type of forging suggest good fodder for replayability without being so open as to be overwhelming (ex. Awakening and Fates, or what Three Houses would be without NG+). In place of permadeath there's a system where units permanently lose stats each time they're defeated until they eventually become unusable, which may slightly reduce the impulse to reset like we're all used to. There's also been an effort to create a system comparable to the weapon triangle without being exactly that, not to mention a robust skill system that includes personal skills and ability to construct builds based on the classes character level in. The class ideas range from expected to somewhat creative, including flying units that aren't pegasus knights which IS has copyrighted anyway or wyverns. Also, an entire set of (I assume pseudo-Catholic) clerical classes!

Queer Content

While there are reportedly no player-created paired endings, the developers have noted that there are some LGBT characters - like the bi and bearish Ford here -and some suggestively romantic bond conversations. Again, I imagine bonds to work more like Echoes where the pairings are all fixed. The developers have also acknowledged however that players will make pairings out of whomever they will, so that's fun. Maybe I should make a tier list of the guys I think are likely to get homoerotic subtext, and after the game comes out I can see how good I was at predicting.....

It's Almost Here(?)

Just today on the DD Discord the lead developer remarked that a release date - and not a delay announcement, notably - would be coming in the next few weeks. With that in mind it sounds as though the game is on track to be released by the end of June as planned. When it does I hope to enjoy covering it; I could with a fun summer project.

#Dark Deity #Fire Emblem #Also let me know if I should make that tier list

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spidercakes · 5 years ago

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Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Peter is underage, mentions of abusive relationships.

Its not like class is boring, its not exactly, its just that Peter keeps sending him pictures and Tony has a small attention span, okay? He can be the bigger man and admit that he’s got less of an attention span than a very stupid goat and he doesn’t even like pastel pink but he very much likes the idea of Peter using those pretty pink cuffs on him. Rhodey, maybe because he senses Tony’s distraction, looks over at his phone and squints, giving Tony a funny look. Tony shrugs because he’s not about to be repentant about the stuff he’s into. Rhodey rolls his eyes at him and that’s rude, hurtful even.

He’s quickly distracted by another picture and where is all of this coming from? Okay, so like, Tony isn’t complaining exactly but also he wouldn’t have taken Peter for they type to want to gag people. He didn't take himself for someone who wanted to be gagged. Not that he’s complaining. Rhodey looks over again and this time he gets an even more what the fuck look and Tony rolls his eyes. “You don’t have a right to say shit after Camilla!” Tony hisses and Rhodey sinks in his seat.

“It was one time,” he mumbles.

“Bullshit, we both know that’s not true so get that look off your face,” Tony tells him.

Carol half turns in her seat, “tell me what weird shit Rhodey was into that’s less weird than the weird shit you’re into,” she says. “Vanko makes me want to die.”

Vanko makes everyone want to die but Tony doesn’t says that. “Tell me what’s more normal, cuffs and gags or pretending to be dead turning sex,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

The look on Carol’s face is so worth outting Rhodey like that and he doesn’t even care that Rhodey kicks him under their shared table. “Bro what the fuck? Are you a Brooklyn Nine Nine skit? Obviously Tony is more normal than you, you fucking freak,” she tells him.

“It was one time and and Tony is the one being tied up,” he says like that matters.

Carol squints, “the fuck is the implication here? That omegas tying up alphas is somehow less normal than fake corpse fucking? Because its so not and also what’s the problem if Tony’s into it?” she asks.

Rhodey rolls his eyes, “you wouldn’t get it,” he mumbles and Carol snorts.

“Yeah, I don’t get weird macho alpha attitude. I don’t see why you guys need to think you should be like that and-” her words are cut off by Vanko.

“Something to share with the class, Danvers?” he asks and Carol, because she has just as little shame as Tony, whips around.

“Votes, what’s weirder- an omega tying an alpha up or pretending to be dead durning sex?” she asks and the class collectively makes a disgusted noise. “There you have it Rhodes, you’re wrong according to everyone in this room.”

“Bro what the fuck?” someone says from the front of the room and Tony has never talked to him before but he looks damn confused.

“It was one time!” Rhodey says, “don’t act like y’all have never done it.”

Everyone, but especially Vanko, looks confused. “That is perhaps the boldest claim I have every had anyone make in this classroom and I once had a student tell me the earth was flat. What, pray tell, led to this being brought up in theoretical physics?”

“Oh, this class makes me want to kill myself so I was sexting my boyfriend,” Tony says, absolutely shameless. Carol lets out a sharp snort and starts laughing and Tony grins while the rest of the class dissolves into giggles too, though slightly uncomfortable.

Tony knows he’s not really any good at this and he’s like ninety percent sure May hates him. Not that he hasn’t given her good reason to, but still. So he takes a deep breath and knocks on her door hoping she doesn’t immediately kick him out or something. When she answers the door she mostly looks annoyed and confused, which is better than outright pissed so he figures he’ll take it. “Peter isn’t home,” she says like he wouldn’t know that.

“Yeah, he’s at school um. I wanted to talk to you, actually,” he says awkwardly. God, he hates this. He should have just bypassed this stupid step and went straight to Peter because he’s the one who’s opinion matters anyway.

May squints at him like maybe she thinks he’s stupid or something and he will give her that, he’s not smart for a genius. Not when it comes to people anyway, or at least not this kind of thing. “What could you possibly want to talk to me about?” she asks, clearly baffled.

He doesn’t know if he should be offended or not or... well, he doesn’t know what the hell to expect. “Uh... Peter,” he says slowly, which mostly results in an even more confused look.

“I’m sure Peter is fine,” she says and she’d know, Tony supposes, she lives with him.

“Not what I- you know what, I’m just going to get to the point. I um. Want to court him, formally,” he says. When she looks confused he wonders if maybe this is another one of those rich people holding onto old traditions for way too long as some sort of stupid status symbol type thing like omega balls but May decides to clear things up before he has to ask.

“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” she says and oh, great, he already figured she didn’t approve. “And you look... relieved?” she asks more than states, clearly confused.

“I’m pretty used to people not liking me much, can’t say I blame you in this case uh- Point is I actually really like Peter. And I mean normally I think asking for permission to date someone is antiquated at best and insulting at worst given that you know, this is Peter’s choice, not either of ours and asking your permission like that matters more than his is bananas offensive on account of it kind of strips him of his ability to speak for himself but uh. The point, yeah, is that you’re the only one he’s got left. His parents are dead, his uncle is dead, and yeah, normally I’d bypass the whole asking permission thing because its kind of bullshit but in Peter’s case I know how much it would mean to him, if you actually gave me permission. You know, on account of everyone else is dead.”

Its not until he gets all that out that he realizes it kind of sounds like a dick move to rub all May’s dead relatives in her face so he’s a little confused when she looks surprised. “That’s... surprisingly well thought out,” she says.

Tony shrugs, “I mean, sure. Just seemed like something Peter would appreciate.”

May considers him for a moment, clearly unsure what to make of this before she crosses her arms over her chest. “What’s Peter’s favorite color?” she asks and that has to be some kind of joke.

“Is... is that a real question?” he asks, confused.

“Well apparently Quentin didn’t know what his favorite color was, so yes,” she says.

Tony blinks rapidly, confused. “He didn’t guess that they guy who wears a freakish amount of baby pink, with his room painted baby pink, who actively goes out of his way to buy things that are baby pink’s favorite color is baby pink? What a fucking dildo,” he says, absolutely baffled at how a person couldn’t know that. Even Rhodey could have passed that test and he’s met Peter like seven times.

“You don’t happen to know more about their relationship, do you?” May asks and no, not exactly but that doesn’t mean Tony knows nothing either.

“I don’t think so but let me tell you Peter has asked permission to do some strange shit. Like I don’t give a damn what he posts to his social media accounts, that’s his business. And I don’t care what he does with his friends, and why the fuck would he need my permission to do that anyway? Every time he says or does something weird like that I’m just a little bit more glad I broke that asshole’s nose. Even if it was an accident,” he says.

May frowns, “how do you do that by accident?” she asks and Tony sighs.

“Spend enough time with me and you’ll learn to do all sorts of things by accident that wouldn’t normally seem like things you can do by accident,” he says. “But I maintain that he had it coming.”

When Peter gets home he’s ready to have a five day nap but the moment he sees May and Tony sitting at their small kitchen table he goes into panic mode instead. “Hey Tony, what are you doing here?” he asks nervously, eyeing May and she doesn’t look impressed. Oh god he can only imagine what kind of information Tony let loose out of nervousness. He’s a nervous babbler and Peter doesn’t want May to know anything. Or more accurately more than she already knows.

Tony turns around looking just as irritated as May and that doesn’t say anything good. “We’re bonding over how much we hate your ex,” he says and Peter relaxes.

“Oh thank god, yeah, Quent sucks,” he says, deciding to use his newfound energy to get a drink. He’d been worried there, for a moment but with the knowledge that they’re not annoyed with each other Peter figures he’s fine.

“You’re okay, right, Peter?” May asks as he rummages around in the fridge. That... hurts to hear so he takes a few moments before locating a Redbull and pulling it from its hiding spot behind an old can of peas.

“I’m fine, May,” he says honestly. “I got tired of his garbage eventually.” Well, more like Tony in comparison was like a billion times better and he wasn’t even trying. Still, point still stands, he learned that Quent was maybe totally shit for him and he should move on. Its not like he was much better, mostly they just brought out the worst in each other.

“Not tired enough, I know he still texts you all the time,” Tony says.

So he does, but he’s been learning to keep his distance. Peter wonders if maybe its a calm before the storm type thing but he hopes not. he hopes Quent gets over himself and moves on and leaves him alone. He’s happy with Tony despite everyone’s worries and they’ve been together for awhile. He thinks they’ll do okay.

“He’ll get bored eventually,” Peter says and he can see that both May and Tony have their doubts, they actively exchange a look about it and that floors Peter honestly, but neither of them say anything. Peter maintains that Quent will eventually get bored, its just that he’s like a dog with a bone until he knows for sure he’s not getting his way. Maybe it should have sunk in by now but Peter knows it will, eventually.

Tony and May turn back to each other and May gives him a small nod that leaves Tony looking weirdly excited. Peter is going to need at least one more Redbull to deal with this cryptic shit.

Peter kind of wants to know who freaks out the most, Ned or Liz. MJ will keep her cool because she’s not a crazy person but Liz and Ned are dramatic and romantic at heart so he’s curious as to who will do what. The few people that see him walk in give him a double take but he ignores that as he makes his way to his and Ned’s locker. Ned should probably already be there, more than likely having hitched a ride with Liz, so he figures he’ll get his answer soon enough.

He’s surprised to see MJ there also given that she usually takes the bus and the bus takes eight hundred years to get to school but maybe Liz picked her up too. When they look over he’s excited, almost as excited as he was when Tony gave him the collar to begin with. He’s managed to keep this a secret all weekend so he could get a proper reaction out of them today, unaffected by previous knowledge and bad phone pictures.

Ned and Liz look shocked and he’s sure either one of them would have said something but MJ shoves them both out of the way to walk over to him first. Liz ends up in the middle of the hallway and Ned ends up halfway in their locker as MJ tilts his head to the side. “Okay, eat the rich and all that but that’s a fucking nice collar,” she says. “When the hell did you get that?”

“Friday,” he says excitedly.

MJ, Ned, and Liz all make an offended noise. “And you just said something?” Ned asks, betrayal face on.

“I wanted you guys to have a better view than a cell phone camera picture,” he says. “He asked May if he could give me the collar,” he adds.

MJ wrinkles her nose and he figured she’d do that. “Kinda gross,” she says and Peter sighs.

“He didn’t ask like that. He said he thought I might like if my only living relative actually approved of my relationship. Otherwise he said he thought asking for someone else’s permission for a decision that’s mine is an asshole thing to do because it says he cares more about their opinion on my relationship than my opinion on my relationship.” And Peter thought that was sweet, and he’d had a nice conversation with May afterward. He knows she’s worried about him still but she shouldn’t be because Tony is really sweet and supportive. And he lets Peter experiment with things that interest him not that he’s about to tell May about his interest in bondage, that’d be like... way too much information.

“Alright, back in my good graces but he’s on thin fucking ice,” she says. “And he has good taste,” she adds, nodding at the thin rose gold metal collar around his neck. Peter loves it, loves that it matches most of what he owns for outfits too and he knows Tony did that purposefully. Especially since if Tony had his way he’d wear a hell of a lot more red. Peter doesn’t see his obsession with the color but Tony doesn’t get his thing with pink either so they’re even.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us he gave you a collar until today,” Ned says. “We’ve been bamboozled,” he adds dramatically. Liz nods along in agreement and MJ rolls her eyes.

“Dramatic sea goblins,” she accuses.

Peter doesn’t really mean for Tony to find the cuffs, he knows the picture he took of them was nice enough to pass for a stock photo so its not like Tony knew he had them but he finds them nonetheless. Peter’s about to tell him they don’t really mean much, he got them forever ago and Quent threw a fit about it and that led to their first breakup though he came crawling back the next day after one of his teammates decided to hit on Peter but still.

Tony doesn’t throw a fit though, or break up with him. Instead he looks at them kind of like he’s located the holy grail and that’s... well, Peter has wanted to use them on someone since he got them not that he had a willing partner until recently. “So you’re like... actually okay with those?” he asks and Tony frowns at him.

“At what point did I indicate I wasn’t?” he asks and Peter pauses for a moment, biting his lip. Tony rolls his eyes, “I don’t want to know what Quentin did about it,” he mumbles, accurately guessing the problem here. Peter has found that a good number of his problems boil down to Quent.

“I mean, text messages are one thing, real life is another,” he points out. Obviously the distinction doesn’t matter to Tony with the way he’s eyeing the cuffs in his hands.

He considers them for a moment before turning to Peter. “We’re all going on a vacation of sorts to Malibu and you’re done school by the time we’re leaving. Want to come?” he asks.

That’s... a change in subject. “If May lets me, sure. Who counts as ‘we’?” he asks.

“Carol, Maria, Rhodey, and me. And you too, if you can. And bring the cuffs. And that ball gag, if you’ve got that lingering around somewhere too,” he says, looking around like Peter keeps that kind of thing lingering around for May to find.

He smiles a little, reaching under his bed and pulling out a box. He hands it to Tony, who takes that as an opportunity to snoop through it, finding that ball gag fast. He finds the rest of the set too and his reaction is pretty much the same as when he found the cuffs. Peter feels a little flush of excitement at the possibility that Tony might actually let him try some of this stuff out and he’s got like a million ideas and he really, really wants to put them to the test.

Tony sets the box aside and all but drags Peter into his lap, “please tell me you have more of that stuff,” he says.

Peter wrinkles his nose a little, “I don’t, it took me forever to get all that as it was.” That stuff isn’t cheap and Peter did his research, he got nice stuff not that it amounted to anything. He’s not entirely sure why he got more stuff after Quent lost it about cuffs of all things. He thinks the flogger is more worthy of freaking out over, not that its that bad, but no. Cuffs.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to all but shove a card into his hand, “buy whatever you want,” he tells him and Peter raises an eyebrow.

“Seriously?” he asks and Tony nods. Wow, okay. “Do I um. Have a budget?”

Tony squints for a moment, like the idea is foreign to him and Peter figures maybe it is. He looked up the price of his collar and almost had a heart attack at the ripe old age of seventeen. Well, almost eighteen but still. “Uh. I don’t know, what’s a small number to poor people? Like five thousand dollars?” he says and Peter can’t help the wheeze he lets out.

“What the fuck? How is that a small number?” he asks, mind absolutely boggled.

“That’s not a very large number, Peter,” Tony says and Peter snorts.

“Oh, as I poor person I know that’s not a lot of money, that’s like... half of what most poor people make in a year,” he says and at least Tony looks baffled now.

“How does anyone live off that?” he asks and Peter rolls his eyes.

“They don’t, babe. Hence being poor. Five thousand dollars, that’s the lowest number you could pull out of your ass?” he asks, shaking his head.

Tony looks like he’s trying to figure out poor people bills for a half a moment before he shakes his head and leaves it be. “Whatever, doesn’t matter at the moment. Spend whatever you want. Replenish that lingerie stock I’m sad I never got to see,” he says.

Peter snorts, “you would want me to do that,” he says.

Tony shrugs, unrepentant. “I mean, yeah. I got like, a small taste before May decided to ruin my fun before I even got to really experience it,” he says, pouting.

Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, sure. I’ll get whatever I want,” he says like he won’t feel guilty immediately after buying anything.

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #abo fanfic #fanfiction

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afteriwake · 6 years ago

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Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes (2/5 - An “Adventures In Unexpected Places” Story)

Another old chapter of @fadeddreaming‘s crossover story! This part isn’t as long, I swear...

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes - After being sent to the worst school in the whole of England, Amy meets up with the man whose fault it is that she’s there, and things go vastly more differently than anyone expected.

The months rolled by. They had arrived in October, and helped participate in their very own Devil’s Night against the local town (most of the town occupants had sensibly left the town unoccupied) two weeks after arriving. Then they had the most unusual fall festival ever, but one that was much preferable to being in Leadworth and having to participate in the treacly pageant the town put on.

Christmas was a bit of a problem: Mel’s parents decided they wanted Mels home, but Aunt Sharon made no move to invite Amy back. But the Doctor had the fix for that, and she spent Christmas Eve on the TARDIS, waking up Christmas Day and unwrapping gifts from all over the galaxy, while the Doctor took to the fez she had picked out on Camilla’s advice like a duck takes to water. He’d also enjoyed the blue bow tie she’d picked out, and Amy swore for the next major gift-giving holiday to give him a green one. When the New Year dawned a week later, Amy and the Doctor were setting off fireworks from the roof of St. Trinian’s, along with Camilla and the other students who hadn’t left the property, for one reason or another.

By the time Valentine’s Day got close, Amy was completely at home in her new school. Yes, the lessons were spotty, and she spent more time being a hooligan then her aunt had probably intended, but she was getting a good education from the Doctor, who was taking her to any point in history she wanted to go on their monthly visits, and was teaching her science and English through the most inventive way possible. Her visit to Shakespeare had been her favorite; and she had gotten to see a rousing performance of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” in full period clothing.

Mels came when she wanted, but Mels fit in with their classmates more, and after almost getting sucked into a black hole on the first visit she wasn’t as enthused for the trips as her friend was. Mels had made a friend in Kelly Jones, who was learning to be more and more like Mels. It was unusual to see Mels with a friend other than her, and saddening, in a way. But the Doctor more than made up for it.

“What do you want to do this month?” he asked when he picked her up in February for their scheduled visit.

“I want to have a boyfriend,” she said. “There’s supposed to be a boy in Leadworth who likes me. Rory Williams.”

“Oh, he loves you all right,” the Doctor said quietly.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said. While he had taken her to the future, he didn’t take her to her future, and he knew bits and pieces of it. Rory played a prominent part, he remembered that much. “Would you like to visit him?”

“Yes,” she said with a grin, and he piloted the controls to take them to Leadworth. “What day is it?”

“Still February 1st,” he replied, opening the door to the TARDIS. “He should be coming right up the lane…now.”

“Oi! Rory!” Amy stuck her head out of the TARDIS and yelled at her old friend.

“Amy!” he called back, running up to the box. He stuck his head in, his eyes wide, and then saw the Doctor. “He’s real? It’s all real?”

“Of course it’s all real,” she said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed his arm and pulled him in, and then shut the door behind him. “Don’t worry, he’ll bring you right back.”

“My mum saw one of your letters and said you were still crazy little Amelia,” he said, going up to the console in wonder. “If she only knew.”

“Yeah, well, she can’t,” Amy said. “Anyway, Rory, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is Rory Williams.”

“How do you do?” the Doctor said, extending his hand to the young man.

“Good,” Rory said, shaking it. “You?”

“Very good,” he replied. “So, does our intrepid new friend get to pick where we go?”

“Of course not,” Amy said. “You already know where you want to take us, don’t you?”

“Ooh, sometimes you’re too clever,’ he replied, ruffling Amy’s hair. She ducked away and fixed it, getting close to Rory. Then she noticed how close she was and took a large step to the side. “I was thinking…Venice.”

“What’s so interesting about Venice?” Amy asked, making a face.

“Gondolas!” the Doctor replied. The two teenagers looked at him, blank faced. “All right then. 1940s is out, your own personal future is out…ancient Rome? Stonehenge? London 2012 Olympic—oh, wait, I’ve already been there, shouldn’t cross my own timeline. Beijing Olympics in 2010? Does any of that sound at all interesting?”

“You know, I’d like to have a picnic somewhere exotic,” Amy said. “Can we do a picnic?”

“Yeah. I didn’t eat lunch today,” Rory said.

“Picnic, right then. I can go whip something up. How about…Atrellion 5? They have a breathable atmosphere, and the sky is rainbow hued, and there are all sorts of nifty ruins to explore.”

“That sounds good,” Rory said, looking at Amy.

“Sounds good to me,” Amy said with a nod.

“I’ll go get the food,” he said as he threw down controls. “Unless you’d like to raid the pantry, Amelia, since you know where everything is.”

“What kind of food do you have?” Rory asked.

“He’s got all sorts. Even American food,” she said, walking towards the kitchen, with Rory following. “He’s got these chocolate chip cookies that are to die for. Pepperidge Farm?” The two adolescents disappeared out of the console room, and he pulled up the data he had from their future and frowned. Today was supposed to be their first date. But how…oh. He had to come up with a reason to be scarce. This would not be a good thing to mess up. He landed the TARDIS and waited patiently for them to come back.

“And you can see dinosaurs, though they’re really boring and they smell bad,” Amy was saying as they came back.

“Well, I need to drop you two off for an hour or so. Got a message from my friend River. Terrible emergency, needed right away.” He opened the door and practically shoved them outside. “Don’t stray far, I’ll be back in two hours, three at most.” He shut the door behind them and dematerialized, rematerializing about 100 yards away under silence. He wasn’t so irresponsible he’d leave the two of them on the planet alone. He turned on the monitor and focused in on them.

“That was rude,” Amy said, glaring at where the TARDIS had been. “And it’s supposed to be my day with him, too.”

“Then why’d you come get me?” Rory asked, hefting the heavy picnic blanket.

“Cause I missed you,” she said quietly. “Mels and I see each other almost every day, and I didn’t come back for Christmas, and I…missed you,” she said, ending it with a shrug. She switched arms to hold the blanket and punched him in the shoulder awkwardly. “Let’s go find a place to eat, okay?”

They trudged off about ten feet until they found the ruins of a fort. Amy laid down the blanket in one corner of the ruins, then settled on it as Rory set down the basket. “Nice view,” he said when he sat down.

“Yeah,” she said. She reached into the basket the same time that he did, and their hands brushed. She pulled hers back really fast. “Could you get me one of my sandwiches?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling one out. “This place is really cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “So, what happened since the last time we talked?”

“Not much. Marcy has a boyfriend now, and Greg got sent to the headmaster’s office for assault. And Jennifer asked me out, but I said no.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“What about you?”

“Oh, not much. Mels has gotten it in her head that we can become criminal masterminds, so she recruited this guy in one of the other villages to help us out.”

“Sounds like Mels,” Rory said with a slight chuckle.

“And I hang out with the Doctor once a month. He won’t take me on as a companion until after I graduate, so I get a few hours once a month until then.”

“Sounds like your life is better than mine,” he said glumly. “Mine’s so boring since you left.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I can bring you on my trips with the Doctor?” she suggested.

“Really?” he said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Mels almost got sucked down a black hole so she doesn’t like them as much anymore, unless we go to the past, then she wants to come. And I like him, but I get a little lonely sometimes.”

“I’d love to go with you. Wherever or whenever you go,” Rory said earnestly.

“Kind of like my…boyfriend?” she suggested, blushing slightly.

“Are you asking me out?” he asked, also turning a slight shade of pink.

“Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, I’m asking you out.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Why do you think I said no to Jennifer? I don’t like her like I like you.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy said with a smile. “You were my first choice when I decided I wanted to have a boyfriend. Mels said you might like me, so I figured it would be good to at least see. And you do, so it’s good.”

“Do I have to…kiss…you?” he asked.

“Well, that’s what boyfriends do,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.”

“But not now, because we’re eating. Afterwards you can kiss me. I mean, you can kiss me good-bye. I mean, good-night.”

“Oh. Okay.” He ate more of his sandwich, and she ate hers, and they stayed relatively quiet. When he was done he reached in for a soda, and handed her one. “Do I get to put my arm around your shoulders?”

“Not today. Next time…maybe.” She took a big drink of soda. “So, what do you want to do when the Doctor comes back?”

Whatever he had planned to say was drowned out by a roar. Both of them froze, and then Rory slowly set down his soda and looked around, picking up a rock about the size of his palm. He stood in front of Amy and the food, ready to protect her. Amy, thinking just as fast, stood up and grabbed a stick from inside the ruins and stood by his side. “I’m protecting you!” he said.

“Well, then take the stick and give me the rock!” she said as the roar sounded again.

He started to say something else when the TARDIS materialized in front of them. “Quick in, in, before the Yerdhel cub’s mother finds him,” the Doctor said from the open doorway. Rory grabbed the basket and Amy grabbed the blanket and they bolted into the control room. “Forgot about the wildlife here,” he said sheepishly.

“I thought you were busy,” Amy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I finished my business but you two seemed chummy so I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Make sense,” Rory said, setting the basket down on the floor.

“So you say,” Amy said, a little suspiciously. Then she sighed. “Well, now what?”

“How about we go watch a race?”

“A race?” Amy said, putting her hands on her hips.

“In space. There’s a community in America that does an annual race to the moon, or to Mars, can’t quite remember. We can watch them in space.”

“That could be interesting,” Rory said.

“Sure, why not?” Amy said with a shrug.

“Excellent. I’ll take you to the race in 2010. That one was spectacular.” He went to the console, then paused. “Rory, you take the doohickey. Amy, you take the wibbly lever.” The teens went where he pointed. “Ready, then?”

“Ready,” they chorused. “Then let’s go!” They did what they were supposed to do, and then the Doctor opened the door. “Right they should be coming by us any moment.”

“Uh, Doctor?” Rory said from next to him. “I think that one in front is coming straight at us.”

“Right you are,” he replied, then he raced back to the controls. He fiddled with a lever, and while the door was open they moved to the side, out of the rocket’s path. “Better?”

“Better,” Rory said, his eyes glued on the rockets. Amy watched for a moment, then came back to the console.

“Aren’t you going to watch the rockets?” the Doctor asked as he headed back towards Rory.

“No,” she said. “It’s boring.”

“One of them is doing something fishy,” Rory said, looking back.

“2010…oh, bugger,” the Doctor murmured. “Rory shut the door. Amy, to the wibbly lever again.” He flipped controls “Now, Amy.” Amy turned the wibbly lever and the whole TARDIS lurched. “Forgot what happened in 2010,” he said sheepishly.

“Can we just go home?” Amy said.

“Home?” Rory said. “But…we didn’t get to do much.”

“Yeah, but at home I can talk to you without worrying about being eaten or blown to bits,” she said.

“Ah,” the Doctor replied. “Tell you what. Why don’t you show him around? I’ll just go to my study and…do stuff. Study. Something or other. You two can talk to your hearts content.”

“Okay,” Amy said. “Mind if we spend some time in the pool?”

“Sure, all right.” Then he paused. “But no monkey business. Don’t need either of you drowning…or worse.”

“Got it,” she said. She grabbed Rory’s hand and pulled him along. “Come on, Rory.”

The Doctor watched them walk away, amused grin on his face, as he went to his own room. He puttered around for two hours before checking up on them, finding them out of the pool and in the library, all dried off and looking at the things in there. “Not as bored.”

“There’s so much fascinating stuff,” Amy said. “I’m glad the swimming pool isn’t in here anymore.”

“I rather am too,” the Doctor replied. He then nodded to Amy. “We should probably go soon.”

“Oh, right.” She grinned at Rory. “Next month, we’ll do something you want.”

“Promise?”

She leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek. “Promise.”

They all headed back to the control room, and the Doctor landed Rory right where they’d picked him up. Amy walked outside with him, and when she came back in five minutes later the Doctor could have sworn it looked like she was floating. “Well?”

“He’s going to try and come visit on Valentine’s Day,” she said, a dreamy smile on her face.

“At your school?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Won’t your classmates tear him to shreds?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The dreamy look on her face disappeared. “Oh, damn.”

“Leave it up to me,” he said gently. “I’ll make sure you get to see your sweetheart on Valentine’s Day.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “So…home now?”

“Home it is,” he replied, fiddling with the knobs and levers before landing on the roof of St. Trinian’s. “Oh, by the way…tell Mels that unless the man she’s talking to is Fast Harry, it’ll all fall apart around her ears.”

“Right.” She was almost to the door, then paused. “How did you know?”

“I looked into the future,” he said, mentally slapping himself for not catching it earlier. “It wasn’t like I was spying or anything.”

“Right,” she said, an amused grin on her face. “Well, see you on Valentine’s Day, Doctor.”

“See you then,” he replied as she left and shut the door behind her. He went back to the console and checked the record, and was pleased to find everything the same. And, most of all, he was happy for Amy and Rory. He knew there were some hard times coming, and she would be grateful for his support.

#doctor who #st trinians #amy x rory #fanfic #fanfiction #eleventh doctor #the doctor #amy pond #rory williams #multipart: alternate beginnings alternate endings alternate universes #my au: adventures in unexpected places

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rfsak2 · 7 years ago

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Cactus, Part VII

Cactus, Part VII Summary: You’ll understand why I want you so desperately. Harry/Jamie Warnings: Paparazzi being assholes.

‘I’m just going shopping,’ she’d told Harry. She was feeling restless and didn’t want to sit around a hotel until the call time for the show. She wanted to visit the Louboutin store and it was really only a ten minute drive from the concert and less than that from the hotel.

This shouldn’t be so hard.

She’d even turned down his offer to have one of the security guys go with her. She shouldn’t need one. They weren’t looking for her and they certainly didn’t know that she planned to make a random trip to a shop.

Why is this so hard?

She had even walked the whole way there, enjoying the sunshine and one of her favorite cities in the world. It was a beautiful day.

“Jamie! Jamie!”

“How much of his money are you planning on spending, Jamie?”

“What do you think of Camilla?”

She should’ve realized that this would somehow happen, after this morning’s run-in with the fans. She shouldn’t have underestimated the paparazzi and assumed that she could still go around relatively unnoticed.

But still how did they know?

She stared down at her phone and tried to decide what to do. Did she call him, worrying him and making him feel like he had to come rescue her, adding yet still to the shit show outside? Did she not call and try to deal with it all herself and risk upsetting him because she didn’t call?

“I can call a cab for you, madame?” The manager grasped her hand gently. “We can send your packages along afterward.

She sighed and nodded. “Yes, please. That’s very kind. I’m sorry for the trouble. I didn’t really expect this to happen.”

The manager of the shop shot a good deal of side-eye at the consultant who had helped her with her purchase, who’d try to keep her there for as long as possible.

She sighed, knowing that this girl- woman, really- had called the paps.

Oh well, what’s done is done.

“Don’t worry, petit. Henri will call a cab and I will be dealing with this situation.” The woman was still staring down the consultant, but Jamie reached out and touched her arm, lightly.

She managed a small smile. “I don’t want to be the reason someone loses their job. It’s fine.”

The manager didn’t look convinced and the woman would likely still lose her job, but the security guard came back and all conversation was cut off as the two conversed in French. “The cab will be here shortly, petit.”

“Merci beaucoup.” She wandered, waiting for the cab, but she couldn’t ignore their persistent shouting.

“Is Harry buying today, Jamie?”

NO he isn’t. She made her own money, and quite a bit of it, she didn’t need Harry to fund her taste for Louboutin.

“Is Harry cheating on you, Jamie?”

NO he isn’t. When would he even have time to cheat on anyone? If it was even within his character to do so, when would he? The boy didn’t stop working.

“How do you feel about Camilla Rowe?”

I don’t know her! How could she have an actual opinion on someone she’d never met?

“How does it feel to be a marketing strategy? When the tour is over do you think he’ll break it off with you?”

NO I don’t. He loves me. I love him.

“You’re a bit young for him, don’t you think?”

She frowned, unable to train the look from her face and turned to the windows at the front of the store.

The pap who’d asked the question was grinning, maliciously she wouldn’t hesitate to say. “He’s into the older women, that one. Aren’t you a bit young?”

She almost saw red. She gritted her teeth in an effort to not just scream. She could handle the yelling, the ridiculously intrusive questions, she could even handle the insinuation that she was a gold-digger or using him for publicity. She wasn’t as naive as Dante always pretended she was. She knew the game, she understood the game, she just refused to play it.

She was nothing if not stubborn as fuck.

But that was the truth too, wasn’t it? He never dated people younger than him. This relationship was an anomaly.

Why was he dating her?

“Madame, the cab is here. I wish we could bring it around back, but-”

She gritted her teeth and nodded. “It’s fine.”

The security guard set his hand on her shoulder and led her towards the door. She took a deep breath, slipping her sunglasses on as he pushed open the door and muscled her through the crowd of shouting sharks.

He wrenched open the cab door and used his body to physically shield her. She stepped in and reached out to clasp the man’s arm. “Merci beaucoup. Thank you so much.”

The man smiled and nodded, eyes kind, and shut the door. She could hear him shouting at the vultures in angry French and Jamie vowed to send gifts, to buy more, whatever she could do to repay their kindness.

She relayed the name of her hotel in mediocre French and sunk down in her seat, the flashing lights adding to the migraine behind her eyes.

As the cab pulled off, the driver eyeing her in the mirror, she allowed herself a stuttering breath. That had been the worst yet.

She pulled her phone out and stared down it, trying to figure out what to say.

Hey, I just got mobbed outside of-

Hey, you were right, I’m a dumbass-

Hey, I should’ve taken the guys with me-

Hey, I’m safe but-

She fought for another stuttering breath. He was going to be angry. He had said this would happen and-

Aren’t you a bit young for him?

She sucked in a breath and fought against the tightness in her throat. Fuck…

“Ça va, belle?”

She shook her head and wiped at her eyes, straightening in her seat and checking outside to see how close they were. They had gotten stuck in traffic-

You okay, love?

She took a breath and tried to type something... anything.

NO. A vulture just reminded me that I’m not your type.

NO. Why are you even dating me?

She wiped at her face again.

The consultant at the shop tipped off the paparazzi. I’m in a cab on my way back to the hotel. I’m safe. I’ll see you in a bit.

Yeah, but are you okay?

I’m safe.

You’re not answering my question, monster.

She couldn’t bring herself to lie to him, so she let it alone. He hadn’t asked a question after all.

Ten excruciating minutes later the cab pulled up to the hotel and, though there were no paparazzi in sight, Brandon and Jack, two of Harry’s security guys, came barrelling out of the entrance. They all but carried her into the hotel lobby, where Harry stood, anxiously wringing his hands.

“Are y’okay?” He reached her side in seconds, long legs to his benefit, bracketed her face with hands that were shaking almost as much as hers. “Monster, are you okay? Jesus, ye’ve been cryin’.”

She sucked in a breath. “Can we just go up? I don’t want to do this here.”

He frowned down at her. “Do what, love?”

“Can we just go up, please?”

He nodded, arm secure around her waist as he led her into the lift. “Love, please talk to me. Yer scarin’ me.”

The lift door closed behind them and they were alone

She took a deep breath and pressed her face into his shoulder, wetting the expensive silk shirt he was wearing as she sobbed, all of the tension from the cab ride and the thirty minutes sat there listening to their vitriol suddenly overwhelming her.

“Jesus, Jamie. What happened?” The lift opened and he led her quickly to their suite.

She collapsed onto the couch, her head in her hands. She felt his hand on the back of her neck, trying to pull her into his arms but she resisted.

“Why are you with me?”

He went very still. “What?”

She shrugged helplessly. “Why are you with me? You could have any woman in the world-”

“I’m with yeh because I love yeh.” He pulled away from her completely. “What d’ye mean: why am I with yeh?”

She shoved to her feet, the urge to pace arrested by how his eyes held her. “Why? Why? I’m not your type. I’m not tall and beautiful. I’m not a model. I’m painfully normal, Harry, painfully normal-” Harry looked hurt and that was enough to give her pause, but it was too late. The flood had started and there was nothing she could do. “Why would you want me?”

“Because yer you, daft woman! Because ye’ve been there for me since th’moment I met yeh. Yeh didn’t judge me or buy th’bullshit the media said about me. Yeh didn’t want me money or some sort of leg up in yer career. All yeh wanted was for me t’support yeh the way yeh supported me and I was ‘appy t’give tha’ t’yeh. Yeh accepted me as I was and tha’ has neva bloody happened befo’! That’s why! Where did this come from, love? Please ‘elp me understand why yer askin’ all this.”

She took a deep stuttering breath and he stood, wrapping his arms around her heaving body.

“What happened, Jamie? Please.”

“It was all n-normal and then this one pap… h-he asked if I was a bit too young-” She gasped against his shoulder and he tucked his face into her neck “-he said… he said you only date older women-”

“Jesus, Jamie.” He squeezed her tighter to him.

“And it’s true…” He was shaking his head against her shoulder and she stuttered again, “I-it is, Harry. All of your other relationships have been with older women-”

He had gone still and the blood in her veins went cold. “Did yeh believe him?”

“What?”

He pulled away. “Did yeh believe him? When he said that I couldn’t possibly love yeh, tha’ I couldn’t possibly wan’ yeh, ‘cause yeh were me own bloody age… did yeh believe him?”

Her mouth worked wordlessly and he stepped away from her.

“Did yeh believe him?”

“H-harry…”

“Yeh did, didn’t yeh? Fuck, Jamie.”

And then he walked out. He didn’t slam the door or shout, he just walked out.

She ended up on the floor, leaning back against the bed on the far side from the door. The tears had dried but she felt drained, utterly and completely. She stared at the wall and curled herself into a ball.

Maybe an hour later, she heard the door open and she didn’t turn, couldn’t bear to see him collect something he needed and ignore her.

“I love yeh.” His voice was rougher, deeper if that was possible, with emotion. “Do yeh love me, monster?”

She nodded, chin on her knees making it a rather awkward motion, but she didn’t trust her voice.

“I need t’hear yeh say, m’love. I need te know tha’ yeh love me.”

“I love you so much.” She gasped against her knee, having a hard time catching her breath again.

She saw him sit on the floor next to her out of the corner of her eye and took another deep breath. It took him a fraction of a second to wrap an arm around her, pulling her against his side. He kissed at the tears that were already rolling down her face again.

“I love yeh so much, Jamie, so much. I’m not sure I’ve eva met someone who was so determined to take me as I presented myself, to see me the way I see me. I’ve neva met someone who wanted the me that I showed them, who didn’t want the me that the media said existed. I love yeh because you love me, yeh see me.”

“There was a time when I couldn’t see myself dating someone my own age. I said that and I meant it, I did. But it was never about age, it was about not wanting to date silly little girls, who thought I was some pretty boy with too much money. It was about dating a woman who’d seen and done and experienced the world. But every single one of those women I dated, saw me as a fling, as a boy toy, as a media tool.”

She wrapped her arm over his middle and squeezed him.

He kissed her temple again. “I’m not sure ye’ve ever been a silly little girl but I know yer not as naive as Dante told me yeh were. Yer smart and sharp and yeh know what yer about. There isn’t much that normally phases yeh and I’m constantly in awe of how... self-possessed yeh are, how strong. There’s so much that ye’ve seen and experienced that blessedly, hopefully, no one else our age will eva haf’te. All of what ye’ve seen would’ve hardened anyone else, made yeh one of the thousands of jaded women in Hollywood, but yeh stayed soft. Yeh let it mature yeh and yeh learned yer lessons but yeh didn’t let it turn yeh sour. Yeh still see the good in people…”

He sighed. “If yeh really believed that I wouldn’t want yeh because yer- what? -nine months younger than me, which is rubbish, then this doesn’t need to go any further, love. It can’t.”

“It wasn’t th- I…” She sighed heavily and tucked herself further into his side. “I’m so sorry and I don’t want this to end. I can’t let you go.”

He squeezed her tighter. “D’yeh believe me when I say that I love yeh?”

“Yes.” She lifted her head and looked him in the eye, wiping at the tears on her face. “Yes, I believe you.” She reached out and cupped his face with one shaking hand. His face was a bit pale, the skin around his eyes a bit red and she wondered if he’d been crying as well. She scooted as close as she possibly could, resting her forehead against his. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

He nodded and kissed her briefly. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have left yeh ‘ere alone. I ran and I’m sorry.”

She nodded.

“Also, I feel like we should deal with one more thing while we’re down ‘ere.”

His tone was purposely light so she managed a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Yeh are beautiful, love. Not only here-” he tapped the center of her chest “-but physically beautiful as well. I am attracted to yeh on every level; emotionally, intellectually and physically. Your eyes and hair are fuckin’ glorious and your smile is enough to stop m’heart, love, truly. I live for makin’ yeh smile and I’m not sure I can think of somethin’ sexier than the fact that yeh laugh at all of my dumb jokes completely unironically and unashamed of how corny they are. I am proud to get t’be the one who holds your hand when we’re out. I love the way yeh look in clothes and the way yeh look naked in m’bed. Yeh have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, honestly.”

He grinned. “What else? I like yer hands. I like how small they are but how talented and sure. I like that they all but disappear in mine when I hold them. I love watchin’ yeh play guitar, I love how much yeh love playing the guitar. It is seriously one of the sexiest things about yeh. And yeh should see yer ass when yer wearing a nice pair of heels, thing of fuckin’ beauty that.”

“I think I understand now, Haz.”

He shrugged. “D’ye? I thought I told yeh this often, but apparently not often enough.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed, face buried in his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

He kissed her hair. “I know and I’m sorry to be badgerin’ yeh, monster, but I’m goin’ te fuckin’ narrate every bloody thought and feelin’. I’m goin’ te keep at it until yeh can look the next vulture in th’face and tell him te go fuck ‘imself.”

She kissed his shoulder. “I love you too.” She sighed. “What a fuckin’ week.”

He nodded.

“You get groped and I have a bloody meltdown.”

“It’s not a meltdown. You were harassed and sometimes it’s not easy to shake that.”

“Either way, it’s not pleasant.”

“When it rains, its pours.”

“I wish it would stop.” She grinned. “I’m from the desert. Don’t much like rain.”

“It will.” He smiled, head back against the bed. “Yer packages from Louboutin came with what looks like a lengthy apology.” He smiled down at her. “What did yeh buy?”

She stood and offered him her hand. “A purse, a pair of pumps and a pair of boots. Wanna see?”

He smiled and let her pull him to his feet. “‘Course, love.” He leaned over and kissed her deeply, smiling against her lips when she stood on her tiptoes to get closer to him. “Now show me those shoes.”

Let me start by saying that Hazza looked fuckin’ phenomenal last night, that red suit just does something to me. The show was fantastic. Everything was perfect and one of the best nights of my life. Also Jamie looked soo cute, she wore all black except for these green velvet Mary Janes I’d guess you’d call them? I dunno. They were cute. She was also rocking the big black frame glasses and the red lip. Our girl looked fine as fuck.

My favorite part of the night was What Makes You Beautiful. He sang the entire first chorus looking back at her. He even went over and danced with her for a bit while she played. It was the cutest thing ever.

We’d all noticed that she wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, she was really quiet and Mitch kept leaning in to say something to her and she’d just shrug. It wasn’t necessarily that she looked angry or anything, she just looked a bit sad and really tired. Then this morning I saw that she’d been harassed earlier when she was shopping, so I guess that’s why.

I’m not sure it mattered because by the end of the song, she was smiling so wide.

Part VI Up Next: Part VIII

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/oc #harry styles fanfiction

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fiveknivesdates · 5 years ago

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How dirty, wild, blurry, juvenile (Chapter 2)

Camilla

After running for half an hour, then a whole hour of a panic attack behind a dumpster, I finally managed to find a place to sleep. It was early spring in Denmark, which meant short days, and it was safer to sleep when normal citizens were still outside.

Even though I managed to calm myself down that day, Erika and Aiden kept haunting me. And not just in dreams and thoughts, but in the real world too. I kept seeing them in the crowd. Sometimes walking, sometimes standing, sometimes sitting, but always, always, looking. I knew they were looking for me. Maybe they were undercover cops or social workers. I even thought they were long lost relatives, trying to find me, but I highly doubted that. My mother’s family disowned her and any relatives from my father’s side would have spoken Danish to me.

Or maybe they were my mother’s relatives, come to collect what she left behind. Jokes on them, I am not going with them, no matter who they are.

I am very used to hiding from someone. When I was young, still living with my parents, I went to a small public school. I didn't get along with any of the kids there, so I’d spend every break hiding behind the trees on the playground, reading books or playing with sticks. Sometimes just sitting there, thinking. I don't remember what I thought about, I just remember the feeling of it. Life felt infinite, but yet so small. The whole world existed in that corner of the playground, and the whole world existed inside my thoughts.

I still feel like that sometimes, but now it leaves me sad. It's a cruel memory of the kid I used to be, who still lives inside of me. I guess this is the price of living as I do.

Seeing Erika and Aiden again today, I sigh in annoyance. They are standing in front of the fast-food joint where I had been hoping Stuart might be working. The old man sometimes gave me a box of chicken nuggets when there were leftovers.

Instead of approaching the pair, I snuck into the shop beside me. It was one of the mint-white colored shops, with a big sign on the front saying Normal. This place was like heaven for a homeless kid with little to no money. I didn't like begging, but when I did, I usually ended up spending my finds inside of this shop. It had everything, from rows and rows of every kind of soap, maxi size and travel size, there were toiletries, underwear, snacks, and tampons.

Those last two were what caught my eye. I had woken up today with a stain in my sleeping back and only two tampons left, and for the snacks, well I was always in the mood for pringles when my period hit.

Staring at the items of my desire did little to no good since I didn't have the money to buy it. In fact, I only had a couple of kroner in my pockets, not even enough for a pack of gum. So I did what I always did, I took them. Shoplifting was a skill I had as good as perfected. It was all about blending in with the other customers. I took two packets of tampons to compare them, but only one of them ended up back on the self. The other was smoothly placed in the worn-out net that I had taken with me today. I did the same thing with deodorant and pringles but stayed a bit longer to browse the shelves. Better not to rush out and raise suspicion.

After a minute or two, I left the shop with a confident smile on my lips. I couldn't wait to go back to where I hid my backpack and sleeping bag, so I could open up my Pringles can and devour them, one spicy chip after the other.

I wasn't that lucky, however, because as soon as I left the shop, I ran face-first into an old friend of mine. Officer Sunglasses. I didn't know his real name, never intended on finding out, but the truth was that he was the worst of all the pigs who patrolled the area. Officer Sunglasses had something against me personally. He knew I was homeless and had tried to help me get back into the foster system when he first took me in stealing a jacket, but I ran away from him successfully. One escape became twenty, and Officer Sunglasses' hatred of me grew more and more.

“Din lille-” He said. You little. The start of an insult he never got to finish, for I ran as fast as I could as soon as I saw him. Judging by his angry tone and the footsteps behind me, he had followed me.

I followed the quiet streets with fewer people to run into and fewer cars to run me over. I was fast, faster than him, so I used that to my advantage. If I was completely honest with myself, which I rarely was, I enjoyed this. I could feel the adrenaline inside myself, it felt like it drowned out every molecule of blood in my body. The wind felt nice too, it wasn't windy today at all, but as I ran the air cooled me down pleasantly.

It didn't take me long to shake Officer Sunglasses off my tail, but then I ran into another misfortune.

As I rounded a corner, I was suddenly standing in an alleyway, with Aiden standing in front of me, smiling.

“Hey, glad you made it.” He greeted me like we were old friends. I tilted my head in mock confusion and prepared to fight. I was sure that if I turned around, I’d see that Erika girl standing behind me.

“Let us talk, okay?” Erika appealed. Just as I’d guessed, she was standing right behind me. I turned halfway so I could keep an eye on both of them.

“What do you fucking want?” I raged. I had a pocket knife in my sleeve, and I was itching to pull it, but I had a suspicion that they might pull something worse on me, like a gun. I was completely sure that they were not afraid of fighting me, and I was afraid that I could not take on both of them. I could run, but I was also tired of them. It had been a week since they first approached me, and whatever they wanted to say, I wanted to hear. That last realization was scary.

“I know Aiden here came on a bit strong back in the library,” Erika started.

“Okay in my defense,” Aiden cut in. “We have been looking for her for years, and finally we find her in fucking Denmark!”

I glared at Aiden but didn't bother saying anything.

“Aiden please, we agreed that I’d do this.” Erika pleaded, then looked directly at me with her dark, dark brown eyes. “Camilla, this might sound really strange, and it is, but Aiden and I are a part of an underground…”

“Cult,” Aiden helped.

“No!” Erika yelled at him. “No, it's not a cult. It's like an organization of humans with special abilities.”

“Just say mental disabilities, for helvede.” I cursed, already knowing that this wasn't something I wanted to hear more of. I tried to push away, but suddenly Aiden’s hands were on my shoulders and my back was against the wall.

“See! I said kidnapping her would be easier. She is a stray cat, Erika,” Aiden laughed. I kicked him but that didn't seem to help me at all, as his grip on me got tighter.

“Yes, she is.” Erika agreed. “She is a stray, and we have to feed her before we take her back home.”

“You guys are fucking sick,” I said with disgust.

“I am sorry.” Erika just said. “But if you would just listen to us, we could explain. You are one of us.” She said the last part like it was supposed to mean something to me. I took the liberty of interpretation and shot back with “A fucking psychopath? Stalker? Kidnapper?”

“No,” Erika said while trying to calm me down. I could see that she was getting a bit frustrated with me. Good, I thought, let her feel what I have felt all week.

“Ever wondered why things just,” Erika began explaining, searching for the right words for whatever she wanted to say. “Go your way?”

“Things don't go my way,” I said, gesturing with my restricted hand movement to our surroundings, both indicating my current position between Aiden and the wall, but also my life as of lately, living on the streets in the bold age of nineteen.

“No, not that,” Erika pushed away. “Smaller things. How do you survive out here? And for so long? Without ever being caught?”

I didn't bother to say anything, so Erika continued. “Me, Aiden here and a few other people on this planet, we have a connection to the forces of life.”

“Like a Jedi,” Aiden explained as if that helped me the slightest.

“Yes,” Erika agreed. “Aiden, for example, is very good at controlling heat and can even make fires. Show her.” Erika bumped Aiden with her shoulder.

“Really?” Aiden grinned, letting go of me and pulling up his sleeves. I reached for my knife quietly, as Aiden took a few steps back.

I didn't know what I had expected. That he brought a lighter and started a fire? That he didn't do anything at all? I surely didn't expect him to light his own hands on fire. As soon as I saw the bright lights, I ran, getting a hit on Erika’s shoulder with my knife as I disappeared.

It wasn't the first time I had seen what drugs could do to someone’s mind, but it was the first time I experienced it myself. I couldn't figure out when I had taken them and figured someone must have slipped them into my food or water without me noticing.

As soon as I was sure they were not following me, I headed towards my temporary camp, just wanting to curl up in my sleeping back. Tomorrow I’d be starting my journey out of the capital and heading for another city, maybe Roskilde or Helsingør. Or perhaps this was a sign for me to do the things I had feared for years. Traveling out of Denmark and through Europe. Because of my Italian mother, getting Italian citizenship would be easy, and the prospect of living down in the warmer country sounded delightful, but the journey was what scared me. I didn't even have enough money to buy food in Denmark, let alone a ticket for any kind of train. I’d had to rely on sneaking into places I wasn't supposed to be or walking for hours on end.

I rounded a corner and saw the familiar sight of my baggage hidden behind a trash can, and almost sang in relief. I had enough time to take one step more towards it before I saw the boy sitting on the ground between me and my goal. In his hand was a baseball bat. Never a good sign. He stood up and looked at me, then his watch.

“Two minutes,” he commented. “That’s pretty damn fast.”

Then he swung and everything disappeared. <- Previous chapter // Next chapter -> Chapter index

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5hfanfiction · 8 years ago

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House of Memories

Ever heard something so eerily foreign that you can’t help but put that sound on repeat in your head because you want to try understand to what’s going on?

Well, if so, have you ever heard someone you love talk to you happily through the phone - and on your anniversary no less - about how she was finally able to get out of her work early to see you, only to abruptly stop that heavenly soothing voice as a loud crash rang through your ear?

Have you ever heard your wife scream through the speaker of your phone while you’re 4 miles away, working at a job you hate and you can’t help but listen to her because you’re too frozen to hang up?

Okay, how about this.. Have you ever heard the love of your life cry for help until the line eventually goes dead?

It started from a good day - great even - where I woke up in the morning to the girl I simply couldn’t separate from.

Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao.

I first met her during my freshman year in NYU. I had a test the next day and Keana, a friend I had made prior, wanted to have a study date with me in a local coffeehouse somewhere near the university. But when I had just arrived there, she cancelled on me.

Although I was pissed that she cancelled on me last minute, in retrospect, I kind of owed her a lot because she helped me find the girl I can’t help but fall for.

Camila was a barista there, working as a part timer.

Pretty cliche, right? Like the movies. Meeting a girl from a coffee shop and falling in love soon after?

Depends. I guess you’d be the judge of that.

“Excuse me Miss?” She said politely. “What can I get for you?”

I didn’t look up from my phone when she asked, too busy throwing profanities towards Keana for canceling on me.

“Can I get a latte?” I said, my eyes still glued to my phone.

“Alright. Size?” She asked.

“Large,” I mumbled, seeing as I would be needing tons of caffeine.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Large.” I spoke up louder, probably coming off as disrespectful.

“Look Miss, I’m really tired and to be frank here, I have a low tolerance for rude people. So can you just please put that phone away when you order? I’m pretty sure your little boyfriend there can manage without you for a few minutes,” she said. And although she was relatively polite, I didn’t perceive it that way at that time. To me, she had just added more flame into my already gloomy mood.

Finally, I looked up to meet the slightly aggravated girl, taking my time key-pointing her facial features; her brunette hair flowing down her small shoulders, her perfectly trimmed eyebrows, her physically tired brown doe eyes, her cute little button nose, her prominent cheekbones, her full mouth and her sharp (slightly crooked) jawline.

A huge lump formed in my throat, feeling attacked by her beautiful sculptured face. But Keana was pissing me off and I couldn’t help but allocate my anger towards the girl behind the counter.

“And you wanna know what Miss..” I trailed off, looking at her name tag.

Camila Cabello. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.

“Camilla.. Your salary is based on your customers. The tips we give you are probably the reason why you’re alive right now. So put that attitude up your ass and maybe you can get enough tips to buy yourself better clothes.”

She was wearing a black Ralph Lauren t-shirt though, but my stupid condescending self thought it was a knock-off.

Her demeanor changed to anger for a second before she shook her head, smiling rather wickedly.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. We are, after all, peasants to you customers.” She retorted sarcastically. But before I could talk back, she continued. “I’ll send your latte to your table Miss..”

“Jauregui. Lauren Jauregui.”

“Jauregui, of course. I’ll send your drink to your table once it’s finished,” she said politely, a tight smile plastered on her face.

I took out my wallet from my bag but was soon stopped by her. “Oh no, it’s okay. As a token of my apology, I’ll use my tips to pay for your drink.”

“You don’t have to,” I replied, cautiously watching her.

“Oh no, please. It’s on me.”

I eyed at her warily. She was polite. A little too polite. But nonetheless, I accepted it, seeing as she didn’t seem like she was backing down anytime soon.

The drink came soon after by the woman herself, smiling cheekily as she approached me.

“Here you are, my master,” she mockingly addressed me but went unnoticed since I was busy checking her out shamelessly. I couldn’t see her waist down behind the counter, so when I could, I took my time looking at her black jeans that was hugging her thin legs but voluminous back.

“Thanks,” I said back, shifting back my attention.

When she walked back to the counter, I could have sworn she swayed her hips in an exaggerated manner; but hey, I wasn’t complaining.

Since Keana couldn’t be there, I studied in the coffeehouse alone; near the entrance door, eyeing the brunette from time to time while I drank my latte, only to see her smile smugly at me when I did.

I didn’t know why.

When the time struck 9, I saw her take off her small apron and walked out from the counter.

I wanted to apologize for being condescending towards her and maybe ask her out after, but I knew it wasn’t ideal.

So as she sauntered her way out of the door, I sighed defeatedly, knowing that I was missing my chance. But the world worked differently because before she completely walked out, she turned to me with a smile.

“I spit on your drink by the way.” And with that, she walked out of the place.

My mouth was left ajar, staring at the now closed door she had just walked out from. I was surprised to say the least. Never have I met a girl who would actually risk her job for a stupid ungrateful customer.

Even as I cringed when I realized that I drank three quarter of the drink, I didn’t complain.

After all, I wasn’t that blind to not know that I was the one at fault.

Although how we met was far from love at first sight, I wouldn’t have changed it any other way.

I was intrigued by the girl.

I did see her again after that though. The next day after that actually. But instead of seeing Camila in her black attire at night, I saw her in a baby blue sundress in my class.

Feeling a surge of confidence run through my veins, I walked over to the Cuban and sat on the vacant seat next to her, causing her eyes to open wide when she realized who I was.

It was a big class after all. I wouldn’t blame her for not knowing that I was her classmate. Even I didn’t.

“Hallo,” I smiled and from my point of view, I saw her visibly gulp. “Small world, huh?”

“Sadly,” she whispered, crossing her arms defensively now as she stared at the bottom of the room, hoping that our lecturer would magically present herself at that very moment.

“Your saliva taste nice by the way,” I flirted, even as I inwardly cringed at how disgusting it sounded.

She scoffed and whipped her head to my direction. “Can you just scurry away? You think I’m an inferior to this ungodly world, I think you’re an asshole with a stick up your ass. Why try to get acquainted when we simply don’t fit?”

“Look, Camilla right?”

“Cameela,” she corrected the pronunciation to her name, pushing the ‘eee’.

“Camila…” I started. “I’d like to apologize for my rash behavior yesterday. I wasn’t having a good day, my friend stood up on me and I was stressed about the upcoming test I had.”

She cut me off with a scoff.

“Anyway… although I had a bad day, I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. So to show how genuinely sincere I am, I’d like to take you out to dinner this weekend.”

Her eyebrow raised considerably when I finished my sentence, maybe wary that I might have an ulterior motive at hand. Or shocked that I wasn’t like who I was the day before.

“And no, I won’t spit on you food or drink,” I added, causing her to chuckle a bit.

It was my new favorite sound when I first heard it.

But just like her sassy self, she didn’t accept me that easily. “What? Your boyfriend broke up with you because you couldn’t reply to him when we were arguing yesterday?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said simply. “I like girls.”

Her eyes grew wider, but it wasn’t judgmental, it was more like intrigued and maybe curious.

She was thoughtful for a minute, seemingly weighing her options before I interrupted her again. “Please.. I promise I’ll be at my best behavior.”

She seemed like she wanted to say something but I interrupted her.

“And before you ask, I have no other ulterior motive. Just a small dinner.”

Skeptically, she accepted and shared our contacts to one another, just before our lecturer came.

And that was how we started.

Through the years, we still playfully bickered, making our relationship far from those boring ones people usually complains about.

We skipped every relationship milestone together; from first dates, to first kiss, from first fight and first everything.

And although we had fought from time to time, we never loved each other any less from when we were still that young youthful adults.

During that first date, I had also found out that she was rich. Like seriously loaded.

The fancy restaurant I brought her to as a surprise was actually one of her dad’s restaurants, making me question why she worked in a small coffeehouse in the first place.

Her reply was, and I quote, “I wanted to experience how it was to work. Sure, I could easily work at one of my dad’s businesses, but where’s the fun in that?”

And with that, it answered how ignorantly dumb I was. Her last name was literally everywhere in Manhattan, I just didn’t realize it yet.

Our first kiss was magnifying. Just simply, groundbreaking wonderful. The butterflies in my stomach went crazy once our lips touched and I could litter hear fireworks erupted in the back of my mind, making me lightheaded.

“Whoa,” she whispered when we broke away, confirming that she too, felt it.

Our first time together in bed was probably the most magical night ever.

The way she looked at me. The way she kissed me softly. The way she held onto me. The way she willingly submitted herself to me (It was her first time with a girl so I took it upon myself to guide her), clawing against my naked back as she came undone with a strong shudder, shaking uncontrollably below me.

“You’re so beautiful,” I cupped her cheek with my free hand, kissing her lips softly against mine.

She smiled lazily with half dazed eyes and I rolled on my back, pulling her against my body so that her head was resting on my bare chest and her arm was draped on mine, both of us sleeping soundly soon after.

The first time we fought was when I saw that her ex-boyfriend had texted her, and that she hid it from me.

We were in the middle of cuddling and watching a movie in her private theater in her home and her phone that was sitting idly on the cup holder vibrated, causing both our attention to snap on the offending device.

Although I couldn’t see the text he sent, I knew it was him; Michael.

“Who’s that?” I played dumb, hoping she would reply truthfully, only to be lied to right in front of my face.

“Dinah,” she replied easily, cuddling into my side once more. But unlike her, I had a no bull-shit policy. Doubt etched my brain, thinking of how easily she lied to me, and I wondered just how many times she did.

She knew how I felt about liars. Just one week before that, we had a talk about our exes and I had mentioned that my ex had lied and cheated on me, making me hard to trust just anyone.

But I trusted her. And she broke it.

“I have to go,” I stood up abruptly, causing her head to fall to the seat that I occupied previously.

“Wait what? Why? The movie just started,” she said, following suit to stand up.

“Yeah, it’s getting late and-”

“It’s 7 at night Lauren.” She interrupted, looking right through me.

“Yeah, and I have to go.”

“Why?” She asked again as she walked towards me, closing the gap between us.

Just as she wrapped her arms around me, I backed away. The hurt in her eyes evident as her eyes locked on mine

“I don’t want to be lied to anymore,” my insecurities flared as I said those words, realization dawning over her.

“But Lo-”

“No. I already told you how I feel about people lying. And you still did it. Right in front of my face.”

She opened her mouth to say something but I interrupted her once more.

“Maybe this relationship is actually one-sided. Just like previous one.” I backed away again. “Lying might mean nothing to you Camz, but I really can’t do it.”

“Do what?” She whispered.

“Date liars.”

“No, Lauren. Listen to me,” she walked towards me once more, taking my hand on hers so she could pull me to her.

Looking back now, it was ridiculous.

“Camila please,” I retracted my hand away from her. “I need some time to think about this.”

Walking away from Camila, she whispered, barely audible. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No..”

“Are you gonna?” Tears pricked her eyes as she looked up at me, waiting.

“I’ll talk to you soon Camila.” I walked out of the house and into my car with blurry eyes, barely holding it together.

We didn’t talk for a week after that. The days were filled with tedious classes while the nights were spent on crying myself to sleep. In classes that we shared together, I moved to another seat, feeling too awkward to sit next to her that time. Don’t get me wrong, I was willing to hear her out then, but I didn’t want to be the first one to initiate it.

She was the one who lied after all.

But when Friday came, I saw her in the dining hall with Ariana, causing me to fume as I watched them interacted easily.

Just when Ariana excused herself, I trudged to Camila and dragged her just outside of the dining hall, near the parking lot.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, anger evident just from my voice. You could only imagine my facial expression at that time.

“What do you mean? I thought we broke up?” She asked, getting a bit defensive.

“Did I say that?”

“No, but I assumed that we did since you promised to talk to me 'soon’ and never did,” she answered, her voice sounded raspy, her eyes seemed puffy and her hair was clearly disheveled. But other than that, she was the same Camila.

“You didn’t even fucking try to contact me!” I basically shouted, people nearby cocking their heads towards our direction, watching silently as the drama unfolded before them.

Camila, not wanting to gain attention from bystanders, dragged me to her car in the parking lot and basically pushed me into it before she went in herself.

We took off as she drove away from the lot.

Taking deep breaths, she turned to me. “I thought you were gonna do it. So I waited. And waited. And waited. I still am.”

“Then why did you hang with Ariana? Unable to close your legs for more than a week?” I snapped, causing her snap her attention to me.

“Are you calling me a slut, Lauren?” She asked as softly as possible. But still, venom was slowly dropping out of them.

“No. I’m sorry.” I said honestly, looking at her side profile, softening my voice but not quite the usual yet. “That was uncalled for. I’m just really angry that you’d move on that fast while I had spent my night crying because I couldn’t see you.”

“I wasn’t moving on,” she assured. “She wanted to eat and she was adamant to bring me with her, saying that I had been moping around too much.”

“Okay,” I said simply, looking ahead as the car maneuvered through the road.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Look Lauren,” she started. “I wanna explain what happened last week.”

I nodded and she took it as her cue to continue.

“It was Michael, not Dinah. I lied,” she looked ahead.

“I know.”

“But I didn’t cheat on you,” she asserted immediately, her grip on the steering wheel beginning to tighten, causing her hands to whiten considerably. “He had been texting me nonstop the other day but I never replied.”

“Never?” I raised my eyebrow incredulously at her.

“I mean, the first time he texted, I didn’t know who he was because I lost his contact. But when he told me, I didn’t.”

“Why did you lie then?”

“I didn’t think it was a serious issue to be honest. I thought that if I didn’t do anything, he would go away. I didn’t want you to know cause I didn’t quite care.” She explained. “But I forgot that you have trust issues. Not to mention that I shouldn’t have lied in the first place, so I’m sorry.”

I was thoughtful for a minute.

“Please…” She pleaded. “I don’t wanna lose you for someone who doesn’t even matter to me anymore.” She said desperately.“ I really, really like you, Lauren.” The traffic light was red so she was able to turn to me with tears eyes.

And at that point, I didn’t even remember why I was mad in the first place.

“I don’t wanna lose what we have either,” I whispered softly, painting a sad smile her way.

“So are we okay?”

“Yeah, just please don’t lie to me again.”

“I promise,” she said with such conviction.

She took her hand on mine and leaned to kiss my lips softly, smiling when we pulled apart.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her breath hitting my lips, causing the familiar butterflies to erupt in my stomach once more. “That one week was so shit.”

“It really was… And I miss you too.”

After that first fight, we had grown considerably close that we were basically attached to the hip.

The first time we said I love you was when we had just fought the second time. We were just so frustrated about how we both wanted to say it but we were too scared that the other might not feel the same way.

We were so in love with each other that we started to think it was unfair because the other didn’t seem like she’d reciprocate.

And that made both of us mad.

That day in particular was already a bad day for me, so I couldn’t really mask how aggravated I was.

“Why are you so pissy?” She asked when I groveled my way to her room in her apartment. She was sitting on the desk chair, writing essays on her laptop.

We didn’t live together but we might as well be. At that point of relationship, she was either sleeping over in mine or I slept over in hers. We even had each other’s keys.

“Nothing,” I huffed, slumping myself to her bed, not bothering to take my dirty boots off, subconsciously doing it deliberately because I knew just how much it would tick her off.

“Lauren, stop being so unsanitary, get your shoes off my bed.”

“Hah. Your room is already dirty. Might as well add some more,” I replied, not making any move to remove her shoes.

She sighed and said, “Lauren. Get. Your. Shoes. Off. My. Fucking. Bed,” punctuating each word for effect, turning the chair around to face me.

“Make me.”

“Lauren.. Just take your fucking shoes off,” she said exasperatedly.

“No.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. LAUREN PLEASE. IM ALREADY STRESSED OUT AS IT IS. Please don’t make me kick you out.”

Without a word, I took my shoes off, making her exhale a deep breath, thinking that she had won.

Turning back around, she started to continue typing into her laptop. I stood up and walked over to her, the muddy boots on my hand.

Suddenly, I put the boots on her desk, near her hands. Sure, she’s messy, but when it comes to her body, she always tries to make herself as clean as possible.

And that clearly ticked her off.

“LAUREN. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” She yelled as she swiped the shoes off her white table onto the floor. She stood up and faced me, her body stiff.

“What?” I said rather smugly, knowing that she’d be more irritated by how nonchalant I seemed.

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT. LEARN A THING OR TWO ABOUT RESPECT THEN MAYBE YOU CAN COME BACK.”

“And if I don’t?” I asked, challenging her.

For a second, I could see the hurt in her eyes but it was gone just as fast when she blinked.

“Lauren, don’t be an asshole,” she sighed.

I took a step towards her, causing her to instinctively walk backwards until she her back hit the desk.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She stuttered as I took another step, walking into her personal space.

“What am I doing?” I breathed, passion was still there but all the anger dissipated and was soon replaced by love and lust.

“Don’t. I’m still mad at you.” Even as she said that, I could see how her restraint was slowly deteriorating. I brought both my hands to her bare hips (she was wearing a short crop top) and she shuddered under my grasp.

“I’m mad too.” I said without a thought. “But I still love you.”

And… My eyes opened wide considerably when I heard myself say it. She was too, but it immediately changed from surprised to fondness real quick.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her chocolate eyes fixed on my green ones, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. With her reaction, I finally calmed down and smiled. “But I’m still mad at you.”

“No you’re not,” I brought my lips to hers, kissing her with all my night to convey just how I felt about her through it.

And soon, we both became one with each other.

The first time we moved in was when we were both in junior year for college, seeing as we didn’t see the point in paying rents for two places when we were clearly living in one; hers. Most of my stuff were there already so I didn’t really put up a fight with it.

The next milestone we crossed after was probably when I asked her to marry me. We had both finished our school then and I thought that that time was as good as any. I didn’t want to wait any longer.

I had actually rented the whole coffeehouse where I had first met her and brought her there sometime at 7.36pm.

It wasn’t a major way to propose really, but it was enough for us because it held a lot of memories.

“Lauren, why are we here?” She asked me as I excitedly dragged her out of the car and into the place.

Although there were tons of people there, there was that one table that I asked to leave vacant because I wanted her to get to get the full experience.

It was the same place I first sat when Camila had told me she had spat on my drink.

Although renting the whole place was kind of redundant - especially since all I asked them to do was to leave one of the table - but it was necessary because I couldn’t take one flaw in my plan.

While she sat, I took my time ordering a latte for the both of us.

The special thing about her latte was that below the cup laid a printed picture of a ring and question that said, 'Marry me?’

At first, I thought it would be better to just put the ring into the drink but I was scared that she might choke on it since latte aren’t transparent. And they’re kind of sticky.

But much to my dismay, she didn’t want to finish her drink at first, so I was struggling under my seat, too impatient for my own good.

“Camila, just finish the goddamn drink..”

“Why?” She asked warily, her eyebrow raised considerably. “You didn’t finish your drink that time.”

“That was because you spat on it. I would’ve,” I sighed frustratingly.

“You’re acting weird,” she said pointedly. “You’re sweating even. Are you okay?”

“Just finish the drink Camz,” I wiped my face, getting worked up about how my plan wasn’t as smooth as I wanted it to be.

“Oookay,” she took the cup and tipped her head, drinking all of the contents. I thought my nerves would finally calm down but it didn’t. I was anxious for a different reason then.

When I saw that she was finishing her drink, I saw her stiffen as she pulled the cup to see the printed picture and looked over to me, only to see me down on one knee with the ring in the velvet box on my hand.

“Remember when we first met..” I started. “It was in this very same building in the very same store. Sure, it was cliche as fuck. Yknow, meeting someone in a coffee shop.” I paused as she laughed, her eyes welling up with tears as she realized what was happening. “But in actuality, it was far from it because we hated each other’s guts when we first met. You even spat on my drink… that was how much you hated me.” Again, another laugh released from her lips. “But I was oddly intrigued and really wanted to get to know you more after. To be honest, if it wasn’t for me seeing you in the class we once shared the next day, I would’ve come back here the next night.

"Sure, it wasn’t ideal since you met the worst version of me that night. But I wouldn’t have changed anything because if I wasn’t an asshole that night, you wouldn’t have spat on my drink and I would have treated you like any other worker here. I wouldn’t have noticed you either. I would’ve walked home and not think about you like I did that night.

"I love you Camila and I always will. I don’t want to live another day without you. I mean I can.” She laughed, along with the customers in the shop. “But I don’t want to.

"I know this place is far from fancy. But this was the place where we first met and just by the memories we have here, I wouldn’t have thought of proposing you anywhere else. It holds so much more than a pretentious restaurant with expensive decorations.

"So Karla Camila Cabello Estrabao, I would like for you to be my one and only wife. I hope you do too,” I finished the speech with a pounding heart, basically serving it on a silver platter as I wait for her reply.

“I do too,” she said as she stood up and pulled me into an engulfing hug. “I really fucking do.”

I breathed out the air I didn’t know I was holding as claps erupted when the onlookers heard her reply.

Our wedding day was the perfect one yet. It was outdoor by the beach of her parents’ private property and although it was small, the decorations were over the top.

Camila’s mom had taken it upon herself to decorate it alone. We didn’t mind though because although it was supposedly our special day as an official pair, we didn’t care about how it’ll look at the end of the day.

We just wanted the marriage, not the wedding.

“Hi, baby.” She squeaked giddily when I answered her call.

“Hey Camz… What’s up?” I asked while I multitask between listening to Camila and writing a draft for the advertising company I worked for.

It wasn’t what I wanted to do but I was 25, I still had time.

“Happy 3rd Anniversary!!!” She shouted and I couldn’t help but laugh at her antics. “I wanted to surprise you by going to your workplace but I’m too excited as you can see. That’s why I’m telling you now. Get ready for me in 10 minutes. Wait no- 20 if the car infront keeps going at..” She paused. “20 miles per hour. Jesus Fucking Christ…”

She horned the car frustratedly.

“Come on.. I wanna see my wife here.” She grunted.

“Wait Camz, are you driving?” I asked, pausing whatever I was doing on the computer to focus on Camila. “You know how I feel about you calling when you’re behind the wheels.”

“Relax Laur, you’re on speaker.”

“Still..” I started.

“Baby, I just miss you and I want to hear your voice. Is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not. I miss you too.”

“Okay yay.. That bitch is off the road, expect me barging into your room with a very banging work outfit in a few,” she said jokingly.

“You look banging every time,” I said as her dirty-minded soul chuckled. “But okay baby, I’ll see you soon..” I said, almost clicking the end-call before she interrupted me.

“Don’t hang up yet. I still want you here.”

“Oh, okay then,” I replied and turned the phone into speaker so I could continue writing my work without holding onto the phone. “Just don’t drive fast.”

“Okay,” she relented. “I just can’t wait to see you. I can’t believe this is our third year of being a married couple.”

“I know baby, I can’t wait to see you either.” I laughed. “God, we’re so clingy. We just saw each other this morning.”

“And 8 hours is just too long Lauren,” she gasped through the speaker.

“God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. You’d be the death of me one day.”

And just like that, the universe took it too literally when I heard a car crash into her car.

Not soon after, I heard a loud cry that sounded like my wife but I was too confused to focus on the sound. I fell into a daze, barely listening to anything that was happening through that speaker. Probably because my mind thought that it was better than reacting.

Because if I were to react right then and there, the office would’ve looked like a hurricane just came by.

When the phone call ended though, I realized what was happening and I ran out of the building, repeatedly re-calling Camila back.

Maybe I heard wrong.

Maybe that was just my imagination.

Maybe she was okay.

But what I heard was exactly what happened.

—

Have you ever wanted to turn back in time to do something differently?

Have you ever wanted to change your profession because you felt useless for not being able to contribute to help your wife’s life.

Because to be quite fucking honest, this was what I had always hated; depending on someone you barely know for the lives of your loved ones.

I depended on the doctors to help my abuela and clearly, they failed.

—

Soon after, I got a phone call about where Camila was and I immediate drove my way to the hospital, not caring about how reckless I really was.

Ironic really.

I waited in the waiting room that were filled with people that were probably waiting for the same thing as me, some even crying loudly as they waited for the results. My eyes were blurry but the tears never actually ran down my cheeks. An unwanted question repeating itself inside my head; If I ended the call early like I planned on, would Camila still be on my arms?

I was stoic - just like the time when I heard her cry for help, as I waited patiently in the room - not moving an ounce of muscle at all.

This was the place where dead people supposedly come back alive. This was the place where it’s supposed to be magical. But as of that moment, I couldn’t feel more dead than I already was.

I waited.

And waited.

Until a man in a white coat called out my name.

“Mrs Jauregui-”

“Mrs Cabello-Jauregui,” I corrected him.

“Right, sorry. Mrs Cabello-Jauregui. I’d like to discuss a few things about your wife’s condition.”

“Is she okay?” I asked suddenly, my heart beating rapidly as I anticipated his answer.

“She’s alive. But there’s a few complications so it’s better if we discuss it privately. Could you step into my office for a minute?” He said, already walking towards his office as I followed him.

His office was pretty much how most hospitals look like. White to the point of blinding. Empty to the point of detach. Even as he tried to make plants as decorations to mask the fact that hospitals are frankly boring and disconnected.

Another irony I have discovered since they mostly connect machines and tubes into the human body. That, along with how dead this place feels when they try to keep people alive.

“Please sit down,” he said as he gestured the chair across from his.

Silently, I sat down and just stared expectantly at him, waiting for what he had to say.

“The surgery was a success,” he started, causing me to sigh internally in relief. “But as I said before, there’s a few complications due to the direct collision between the car and your wife.”

And that was when he explained the technical and biological terms of how she had 17 broken bones in total, 14 on her ribs, and 3 on her arms. But most importantly, he had also mentioned how she had a brain injury due to her skull that was fractured as the aftermath of the crash.

He said that although she is alive, she would be experiencing a coma as of that moment and that she might have problems remembering a few things when she does wake up.

But I didn’t think it was bad at first. Just as long as she was alive, she’s okay.

He let me go after and I went to her room immediately, my heart breaking when I saw the external bruises on her face and body for the first time.

I could only imagine her bruises internally.

Her face was swelling at some parts; the purple and red coloring her beautiful face. Everywhere around her were full of machines, making her body look smaller and vulnerable than she already was.

But still, I waited in the room.. Even if it kept breaking me when I saw how much pain she had to endure to keep herself alive.

She was subconscious for 2 months. 2 months of me dreading for her presence and 2 months of me hoping that she’d finally wake up. Those 2 months, I had spent it on sleeping on a hard couch in the room of the hospital, barely holding my size since it was small.

I barely went to work and when I did, I usually went out early.

Our family came at least twice a week during those 2 months, looking just as hopeful as I was every time they did.

Although they cared about Camila, they cared about me too. Something I didn’t at that moment. They saw how unhealthy I was and every time they visit us, they’d come bearing gifts that were clearly just foods that Camila couldn’t eat. They’d also try to bring me out to eat sometimes, knowing that I haven’t been eating as much lately.

Little did they know that I was just craving for Camila’s burnt dishes.

I sang to her during those 2 months. I read tons of books to her, reading out loud so the room wouldn’t be filled with just her heart beating through the monitor. I told her stories about my boring life, hoping she was listening like she always did before.

I thought that waiting for her to wake up was the worst part. Oh how dumb I was…

When she finally awoke at around 8.22am after that 2 months, I was so elated, almost jumping around like a little kid who finally got what he wanted.

But when she spoke with her raspy voice, I felt like my heart was thrown into the dark abyss.

“Who are you?” was her first words to me.

I stared at her. I knew I should’ve expected this. The doctor did tell me how she might experience a few symptoms of memory loss due to the injury. Not to mention the medicines she had to take.

But damn, did those words hurt so bad.

“I’m Lauren,” I started, walking towards the bed where she was laying on. “I’m your wife.”

“I have a wife?” She questioned. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. We got married a little after three years ago,” I quirked an eyebrow, hoping that maybe that information would make her recall something. Anything.

“But I have a boyfriend.” She said questioningly, making me frown. “Where’s Michael?”

That broke my heart. My mouth was left agape as my eyes locked on her.

How could she remember him and not me?

“Where am I? Is this a joke or something?” She asked, trying to sit up but winced when she felt her abdomen sting. “Seriously, what’s happening here?”

She waited for me to answer, looking expectantly as she did. Even if she looked like the girl I loved since I was 18, she clearly wasn’t. She looked at me without that spark of love that was always there before the accident.

I didn’t realize that I was staring at a stranger disguised as my wife.

“Excuse me Miss?” She asked, pulling me out of my daze. I almost saw her when she said it. That was her first words to me ever. “Where am I?”

“Uh-” I was interrupted when a nurse who usually regulated her blood intake came, only to stop when she saw that my wife had woken up.

“Oh you’re awake. Let me get Dr. Johnson here for a minute.”

She left the room and Camila once again looked back at me, tilting her head as if it could help her to figure me out. She looked so curious and innocent.

“Who are you again?” She repeated what she had asked.

“Lauren. I’m your wife.”

“That’s what you said just now. But if you are, why can’t I remember you?” She asked, looking skeptically at me.

The door swung open and the doctor who had performed the surgery for Camila came into view.

“Camila, how great of you to finally wake up,” he said calmly as he took the clipboard from the end of the hospital bed and flipped through the pages.

“Where am I?” She asked.

“The hospital. You were involved in a car accident two months ago.” He explained, clearly more helpful than I was at that point. “Do you remember anything during those events?”

“No?”

“How old are you, Camila?” He asked smoothly, almost as if he was so used to this.

“16? 17? 18? I honestly don’t remember.”

“How about this, do you remember your family?”

She looked up for a few seconds, seemingly in deep thoughts. “Yes. My mom, Sinuhe. My dad, Alejandro and my little sister, Sofia.”

“Great.” He said then pointing at me as he continued. “Do you remember her?”

I looked over to Camila and saw that she was thinking once again, trying to get any recollection of me.

“No,” she said, looking over to me with pure curiosity.

How could she forget her own wife?

“Alright,” he said softly the directed his words to me. “Miss, I’d like to talk to you in private for a few minutes.”

I nodded and we made our way to his office, closing the door once we were in.

I took a seat at the same place I had two months ago and he took his behind the desk.

“So, although we have to run a few tests on your wife soon to confirm what she is most likely experiencing right now, I’d like to just personally tell you that she has one of the symptoms of partial memory loss called Dissociative Amnesia. It’s a term that we use when one, like your wife, has experienced a traumatic event such as the car accident or abuse and is unable to recall some of the memories earlier in her life. In this case, you…”

That statement caused my head spin, making unable to listen to the doctor as he explained more about the condition Camila might be having and the symptoms of the amnesia.

“How could she not remember me but remembers her family and one of her ex?” I asked after he was done.

“Usually, dissociative amnesia is triggered by the stress she had to endure before the accident,” he paused. “Let me ask you this, Mrs Jauregui. Have you ever hit your wife?”

“What?! Of course not.” Only in bed, I thought.

“Have you ever done anything that might cause her any type of stress?” He asked again, his elbows leaning against the desk as his chin rested on his knuckles.

“I don’t think so. She was fine before the accident. It was actually our anniversary and she was on her way to meet me,” I explained.

“Maybe, that’s why. Stress is a state of tense feeling and although she wasn’t somewhat stressed, maybe she was having strong emotions before the crash.”

I nodded, not knowing what to say.

“The good thing about this amnesia though is that the memories still exist but they are deeply buried within the person’s mind and cannot be recalled.” He explained as I tried to grasp what he was saying. “However, the memories might resurface after some time on their own or even after being triggered by something in the person’s surroundings. Like dejá vu.”

“How long does it usually take for her to recall back her memories?”

“That depends on the person themselves. I guess it’s your job to maybe bring her to some of the places you’ve been to that she might trigger a recollection of some sort.”

I nodded and we talked a bit more about Camila’s condition.

I went back to her room after he dismissed me, my head spinning at the informations he had disclosed, now a little wary to be close to Camila.

For the sake of my heart.

I called both our respective families to bring them the news about Camila’s consciousness, and just like expected, they were joyously elated. They said that they’ll be coming over soon, impatient to meet the strong girl.

Before they went in the room though, I had told them that she lost some of her memories so if she didn’t remember some things, don’t be surprised.

They asked me if she forgot anything from me and I told them that she forgot about me completely, to which they sent a pitiful and sympathetic look my way.

They crowded her soon after and I stayed back, watching the interaction between her and our family.

Much to our surprise, she remembered my family. Which was so odd and she doesn’t remember how she knows them. But nonetheless, they were happy that she did.

She just didn’t remember me.

They stayed until the visiting hours were chasing after them. So when the time struck 9pm, they went back home, leaving me and Camila alone once again.

I sat on the chair next to the bed and just looked at her, her doing the same as if trying to decode me through her gaze.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember you,” she said softly. “I asked my mom if she knew who you were and she said that you really are my wife. I know you told me that two times already, but I just needed more verification.”

At least she’s not trying to fight it, I thought.

“But if I remember everyone - even your family - why can’t I remember you?” She asked and I dragged the chair closer to the bed.

I wanted to kiss her so bad at that moment. 2 months lack of any type of contact with her.

“I had a talk with your doctor and he said that before the accident, you had an intense feeling of something similar to stress and it kind of caused a temporary memory loss.”

“Huh. What happened before the accident?”

“I’m not sure either. You called me to tell me that you were dismissed early so you were gonna come over to my work.”

“Okay.” She dismissively said, turning her attention to the television that were playing some old show.

I sighed. I wanted to tell her every memories we had shared, one by one, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

After all, she did just wake up.

I thought it would be easy though, considering she never fought against me. She accepted the fact that I was indeed, her wife. I was a bit relieved that she wasn’t like the typical amnesiac girl portrayed in movies where she fought against the guy at first, thinking that he was a mere stranger.

But that’s just it, wasn’t it? This wasn’t like the movies.

I thought the first day was hard, oh boy it was going to get a lot more harder.

The second day, she asked me something that made me question the existence of Hope.

“If you’re my wife, does that mean I’m gay?” She asked when I was feeding her fruits, her eyes full of curiosity.

I chuckled when she asked that. “You never really questioned it. You kind of let it flow. Like when I asked you to go out with me, you never pushed your sexual orientation to me so I just assumed you were Bi.”

“Huh.. Did I date any other girl before you?”

“I don’t think so. If you did, you didn’t tell me about it.”

“Okay,” she said again, opening her mouth for me to feed her.

“Any other questions?” I asked, knowing just how much questions she had as of that moment.

“Where’s Michael?” She asked, not knowing that she asked the one question I will never, ever like. “I know you’re my wife and everything, but what happened to him and I? The last thing I remember of him is how much I love him.”

Keyword; Love. Not loved.

My body tensed when she said it, not moving an ounce of muscle. But even so, my heart pounded hard against my ribs, an irrational set of jealousy course through my veins.

“Or you know, you don’t have to tell me,” she said immediately, sensing the shift in demeanor on my part.

I nodded and continued feeding her.

I thought that that moment was the end of her asking questions about her past lover. But I was wrong.

No, she didn’t ask me about him anymore, but I heard her ask Sinu the next week when she thought I was out of earshot.

I was buying a much needed dark coffee from the cafeteria when I heard them talk. I was about to walk in the when I heard her ask.

“Mami, what happened between Michael and I?”

“You ex-boyfriend from high school?” Her mother asked. “Well, uh, he got into a university in Washington and you got accepted in NYU.”

“We broke up because of the long distance?”

“Yes, and that you guys weren’t ready for a serious relationship at that moment.”

“Oh, but.. If we broke up due to the circumstances and not because we both fell out of love , could it be that when I met Lauren, I was still in love with him? Am I still in love with him?” She questioned. “Cause like, if I don’t, why do I still remember how I feel for him now?”

My body went rigid once more as I heard what she was saying. Doubts and fears crawled everywhere on my mind, plaguing every memories Camila and I had.

Could it be that I was just a rebound?

Could it be true that Camila was still in love with him whilst dating me?

Could it be true that she still loves him now?

Every happy memories we had before began to be filled with questions. What if she married me because I was there when she was desperate for a new love?

“Oh honey,” Sinu interrupted my thoughts. “Believe me, you love Lauren a lot; more than you ever did on Michael. Even a blind man could see it.”

“I just wanna understand why I remember everyone and not her,” she whispered.

And with that, it was enough for me to move forward at that time. Sure she’s questioning our love, but hey, considering she didn’t forget about me, who wouldn’t? I thought that I just needed to bring her memories back.

We spent another one month in the hospital while she healed under the observation of the doctors and nurses. A week after she was awake, they did a few tests on her and was officially diagnosed with Dissociative Amnesia.

After that one month passed, although she still had a few bruises here and there, she was discharged and was able to come back to our home. I just needed to regulate her intake on those medicines and help her on a few things like showering.

Sure, she was getting better physically and mentally, but she still didn’t remember who I was and each day, she slowly became cautious with me.

She thought I was a stranger.

I know it shouldn’t hurt me. She was only like this because of the accident after all. It wasn’t intentional at all. But damn, it hurt so much.

The way she looked at me with curiosity everyday, like I was a mere stranger.

The way she flinched every time I instinctively touch her because I was so used to doing that back when we were okay.

The way she keep things to herself, not trusting me enough to talk about how her day went, even if she was just at home.

Don’t get me wrong, to a certain extent, we were okay. She didn’t question when we went to our home alone when she was finally discharged. We never fought. We still hang out when I went back home from work.

But it just wasn’t how it used to.

She was still so cautious with me.

Back then, when I came back home, she’d usually engulf me into a koala hug, kissing me everywhere as if I had gone somewhere for a decade.

Now, she just says hey or if I was lucky, she’d wave at with a genuine smile.

Back then, when we have late night movies, she’d cuddle up to me and she’d kiss me from time to time to show just how much she loved me.

Now, if we do have it, she’d put a considerable amount of space that made sure that we weren’t touching at all.

Back then, when we eat dinner, we’d actually talk and bicker playfully with her sass and my sarcastic self.

Now, we don’t talk. The only sound that filled the dining room would be our spoons and forks colliding with the plates. Unless she has a good day. If she does, she’d make a small talk about the weather. Either way, the huge elephant just stared at us with amusement.

That took about 3 months until I was finally done with it. I wanted to go with the flow so she’d remember things bit by bit. But clearly that wasn’t working. I was just so desperate to find the girl I once knew.

So I took her to the coffee place where I was convinced she’d remember.

But she didn’t, and that kind of killed me a bit. I told her what happened here - both the first time how we met and how I proposed to her - and although she was intrigued, she still couldn’t remember one bit.

Everyday she was healing, I was beginning to become impatient. She was getting better but our marriage was deteriorating.

A few more months and she was finally able to go back to work, much to her relief. She was getting tired mopping around the house.

When I came back home after her first day back to work, she hugged me.

I thought that maybe she finally remembered me. That she finally remembered us.

But she only did it because she was so happy about her job. Sure, I was a bit disappointed that she still didn’t remember, but at moment, I was glad that she was still the same Camila in a way.

She had always loved her work, even if she hated the location because it was far from mine.

But I smiled, listening to how she gushed around at the welcome back party her boss and colleagues hosted specially just for her; whom she also remembered. I thought that hey, at least she was willing to talk to me about her day.

And that gave me hope that she was finally comfortable with me.

She also talked about how she finally has an assistant. An assistant that she clearly adored by the way she talked about them.

She forgot to tell me one thing though.

One day a few months later, I wanted to surprise her at her work, bringing a rose and pizza along with me.

I walked into her office I knew so well and was surprised when I saw that she was talking animatedly to someone.

Someone I loathed so much.

Michael.

I’ve never met him but Camila had once showed me a picture of him because I was curious of my 'competition’.

He wasn’t even that good-looking to be quite honest.

But damn does it hurt looking at her talking to him like she once did with me. She was smiling hard and her eyes had that spark she had always reserved for me and only me back then.

I clenched the rose that it soon wilted under my grasp.

“Lauren?” She asked when she noticed my presence, my feet were glued to the floor while I was staring at them. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you with food,” I trailed off as I warily looked at the man that was across from Camila.

The man turned and stood up, extending his hand for me to shake it. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Michael, Camila’s assistant.”

She forgot to tell me that.

I just eyed his hand and his face, clearly not touching him anytime soon. Thankfully, he realized that and retracted it awkwardly.

“Lauren, Id like for you to officially meet Michael, my assistant.” She gestured. “Michael, this is Lauren, my- uhhh..” She hesitated. “My wife.”

She looked down and my heart felt a ton heavier than it already was. She sounded like she was ashamed of me. Like she was ashamed of the fact that she was stuck with me.

I was angry. Of course, I was. Who wouldn’t? But I didn’t want to start a fight with Camila at her job. So I just laid the pizza box on the table and gave her the dead rose.

I left without a word, my face red and my body tensed.

But still, I cared about her. I made her dinner like I always did. But she only came back home at around 9pm.

The dishes turned cold by then.

“Where were you?” I asked when she saw me in the dining room. “You got off work 5 hours ago.”

“I went out with Michael for dinner.”

“And you couldn’t at least call me to let me know?” I asked rather aggressively. Not only did she basically stood me up, she went out with her ex. Her ex whom she still might have feelings for.

“My phone was dead, why are you so pissed?”

“Because Camila, I fucking made a feast for you.”

“So what? You could always save it for lunch tomorrow,” she said.

“But that’s not the point. I made it for you.”

“And I’ll eat it tomorrow… I’m tired Lauren, I’m gonna head to bed,” she said dismissively, walking towards the bedroom we used to share.

That was another thing that changed. She was uncomfortable with sleeping beside me so I took it upon myself to temporarily occupy the vacant room beside ours.

It was safe to say that when lunch came the next day, she never did eat what I made for her.

She went to lunch with Michael once again.

It continued for 4 months and the end of that 4 months was when I was finally embracing that she might not remember me at all.

We were constantly arguing and we never actually made up. We just walked away when it got too heated.

We even got more distant, as if that was possible.

She always went home late while I just cried as I waited for her to come back in the place I once called ours.

Every dinner I made went unnoticed by her.

4 months of me being stuck because I didn’t know what to do. Sure, she’s still Camila and she still has some aspects that often reminds me of her, but she wasn’t my Camila.

That’s when I noticed; She was a stranger to me just as I was to her.

So towards the end of that 4 months, I decided to ask her where we stood.

She went home and I brought her to the couch in the living room.

“Where are we going with this?” I asked, not beating around the bust any longer.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean us, where do we stand?”

“We’re married, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but are we really? You’re acting like we’re strangers. We don’t even talk.”

“But were still married, aren’t we?”

I stared at her, blinking once. Twice. Scared of what I was gonna ask after.

“Do you want us to be?” I said finally, my heart clenching and the tears slowly forming on my eyes.

Sure, we weren’t close. But we were once and it really hard to let it go just like that.

“I don’t see why not.” She answered. It wasn’t a yes but it wasn’t a no either. I felt like she only wanted to be with me because she felt obligated to.

Like I was merely a chore.

“I don’t want you to be with me because you need to repay me in any way. I took care of you after that accident because I wanted to.”

A pause. She just looked at me in a daze as she thought about it.

“Okay..” She said.

“Okay?”

“I’ll think about it,” she said, which further verifies that I really was an obligation. If I wasn’t, she would’ve stood by with whatever she said before.

Another one month passed. We still weren’t close but she was gradually letting me in once again.

Sometimes, when I’m lucky, she’d even come back home right after work.

It gave me hope once again.

But then, when she came home early one time, it was destroyed once more. And this time, it did completely.

“Lauren, can we talk?” She said cautiously as she took a seat on the couch across from mine.

“Sure,” I paused the show I was watching and focused my attention solely on her.

“Remember that talk we had about whether I want to stay or not?” She said and I nodded, my heart beating rapidly at what she wanted to say. “I think I made my choice.”

“And…” My eyes welled, blurring my vision since I already knew the answer. No one would be this serious if they wanted to send a positive answer.

“I’m sorry.” She said, not really answering but she knew that I knew. “I don’t think we’re happy.”

A sob came next and I just couldn’t hold it. Tears were pouring out of my eyes and I was such a mess.

She stood up and sat next to me, holding me close to her while I cried my eyes out, consoling me.

It’s funny. The only time we were finally affectionate with each other was the time where our relationship really ended.

“I’m sorry,” her voice cracked as she spoke, on the verge of tears. At least she wasn’t that heartless, I thought. “I just think that this is better because I keep hurting you.

"This isn’t even about Michael. This is because of the fact that whatever I did, I feel like you don’t approve. I feel like you’re not in love with me but rather the person I was before the accident.

"Every time I did something that reminds you of her, you light up, only to sigh when I remind you that I still can’t remember.

"I tried. I tried so fucking hard to remember. Like, did you know that I didn’t come late from work because I was spending time with Michael?” She paused, crying softly now. “It’s actually because I went to therapy. Before I was discharged the hospital actually recommended me this doctor who was professional for people like me.

"So I went to him so maybe I couldn’t disappoint you anymore. It hurts just how much I did.

"And if I wasn’t in therapy, I’d be walking around the places you brought me when you tried so hard to make me remember months before.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked softly as she still held me close, her body heat radiating through mine.

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up like I always do, only to be disappointed at the end of the day,” she whispered, her voice kept cracking and it just made my heart clench harder.

“And sometimes, I feel like I remember you. Like I was at the brink of remembrance, but I never did. And it’s so frustrating.

"Even as I did everything I could to remember you, I never did and I keep disappointing you nonetheless.

"I want you. And I think I love you. But the problem is, I don’t think I’m in love with you.”

I cried more, my breathing erratic and my eyes just keeps pouring non stop.

“I don’t want you to keep being disappointed Lauren. You deserve better than this. You deserve better than me.

"You miss the old me, not me. You love the old me. Again, she’s not me. We just look the same.

"I’m sorry,” she said again, I could feel her tears on my forehead. “I’m so fucking sorry that I can’t remember you, my own fucking wife.”

We continued crying without a word, holding onto each other. And at one point, I felt her lips kiss my face repeatedly.

First, she kissed my forehead.

Then, she kissed my cheek.

My other cheek.

My nose.

The corner of my mouth.

And finally, her lips connected mine for what felt like centuries.

Oh, how I missed those lips.

It escalated quickly that innocent kisses turned into desperate ones.

I was just so desperate to hold onto her that night that I was willing to connect with her any way I could in expense to her breaking my heart completely the next day.

It then turned into a full on make out and we both just stood up from the couch together.

She dragged me to the our bedroom and we made love to each other; almost as if we really did.

The next morning, I woke up to an empty bed and a pounding head. The room was empty and some of her clothes and essential things were gone.

My heart was completely broken when I saw that she wasn’t coming back at all; even after the chemistry we had that night. I searched around the room and saw a note she personally wrote.

'In an alternate universe, maybe I wouldn’t be in that accident and maybe I could actually remember you and love you eternally.’

Sure, Camila didn’t die in that accident. But she might as well be. To me, she was a another person after that accident.

Like I said, if only our lives were like those movies. Maybe she’d remember me after last night.

——

A/N: I know nothing about amnesia but I did a few researches on it. I tried to make it very accurate but google itself isn’t always accurate.

#UPDATE #one shot #AU #camren #angst drama #family #romance fluff #submission #House of Memories

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