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writing-on-the-wahl · 3 years ago

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Writing Snippet #19: The Voicemail

It was the dog at her side who warned her of his approach.

Normally she was much more in tune with her surroundings. It was the whole reason she’d come to the park in the early morning hours, to soak in the peaceful stillness, hear the birds chirping, and feel the morning sun on her face.

But her thoughts raced within even as she sat on the familiar park bench, her eyes closed as the rays of the morning sun danced across her skin. It was colder this year than it had been on that day.

But today she was alone.

Except for whoever had decided to join her on this particular fall morning.

She acknowledged her dog’s signal but didn’t open her eyes. Leaves crunched on the path, footsteps coming closer until they were nearly past her.

She stiffened as the air went silent.

“Cecelia?”

The familiar rich voice sent a stab of pain through her chest—an injury she’d thought healed long ago.

Why would he be here, today of all days? He’d made his choice, so he had no need to come relive the memories. She clenched her hands together in her lap.

“Hello, Hero.” She was surprised and relieved at how neutral her voice sounded.

She heard a shaky inhale. “Cece…” Her heart tripped at the nickname that was singularly his.

Leaves rustled and she tensed. Her dog let out a small growl, warning him against coming any closer.

Good boy, Bingo.

Hero had noticed her discomfort as well. “You don’t want to see me.”

There had been a time that was all she wanted.

She tipped her head back even further, focusing on the sun seeping into her skin rather than the raw grief clawing its way to the surface.

“I called you.” He hadn’t answered.

“Yes, I know.”

“I left you a voicemail.” A part of her harbored the hope he’d never gotten it, that it hadn’t been his choice to abandon her.

“I know.” His voice was strangled, pained.

The tiny hope withered and died.

Then her head was in her hands, fingers digging into her hair as the old pain resurfaced with the memories of that night. “You didn’t come find me.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

He took in a shuddering breath. “No. I didn’t.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks, and she pressed her face more firmly into her hands.

No. He hadn’t come. And she’d been left alone. In the darkest moment of her life.

“Cece.” He was crouched down in front of her now.

She wondered why her loyal companion hadn’t bitten his face off yet.

“I’m sorry. When I came home and saw the papers strewn across the floor, the table half set…”

She bit back a sob. She’d wanted to surprise him with dinner. Not for anything special. Just because. It had been the anniversary of the day they’d met. A date she was sure he’d forgotten. She’d gone over while he was still working at the fire station. Begged a key off the landlord. She’d been in the middle of setting the table when...

“I honestly didn’t think you’d want me to come.”

She’d left that voicemail begging him to come.

“Because you couldn’t love me like that?” The words overflowed with bitterness. He’d said he’d always love her. No matter what.

“Of course I loved you! Enough to let you—”

“I swear, if you say ‘let me go’…” she growled the words through her hands, filled them with all the pain and heartbreak and anger living inside her stitched-together heart.

A twig snapped as he stood and took a few steps back. He was probably running his hands through his hair, like he always did when he was agitated. He’d often put off getting it trimmed, and the soft waves were constantly falling in his eyes. She wished she could peak up through her hands and see the adorable way he’d push the waves back, only to have them immediately fall back into place.

“I know I don’t deserve anything from you, but even after all this time, can you really not bear to even look at me?”

She let out a hiss and pressed a hand against her chest to stifle the pain those words brought. Bear to look at him? She let out a sharp laugh, bitter and without humor. He’d gotten her voicemail. He knew. How dare he ask that of her.

Cecelia raised her head and opened her eyes.

Not that it made a difference in the blackness that was now her world.

She heard him inhale sharply. She fought the instinct to close her ruined eyes. She’d never seen them of course, but the nurses had told her of the unsettling milky sheen now coating her once-blue eyes.

Wood creaked as he settled beside her on the bench.“What happened?” His voice was so achingly tender.

The memories of what had happened were like acid, making her eyes burn just like they had that night. The masked intruder in the hallway. The brilliant flash of light. The intense pain in her eyes that sent her to her knees.

She’d told him in the voicemail. Not everything, but most of it.

When she didn’t answer, he shifted close, interrupting her thoughts. “Cece, how long have you been blind?”

A shiver prickled along the back of her neck. Something was wrong. The way he was reacting…

“Two years ago today.” The day of their anniversary. The day she’d hoped he’d ask her to be his for the rest of their lives.

The silence that followed made her desperately wish she could see his face. His voice was excruciatingly calm when he finally asked, “The day you left was the day you went blind?”

“I-I called you.” Her words were barely audible. She heard his sharp intake of breath, but forced herself to continue. “You didn’t answer. I was scared and alone and in so much pain… I didn’t know what else to do. So I left you that voicemail.” The admission cost her more than she cared to admit.

“The voicemail—”

“I waited all night for you to call. For you to come. But you didn’t.” Her voice broke at the end, and she stood and stepped away from the bench, not wanting Hero to see the tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

Bingo pressed up against her side, and the feel of his soft fur beneath her fingers gave her the strength to say the words she’d held inside for almost three years.

“You left me,” she whispered to the wind. “You promised you’d always love me, and when I needed you most you weren’t there.”

“Cecelia.” He was standing behind her now, close enough she could feel the brush of his clothes against her back. “I didn’t listen to the voicemail.”

The words sank in, and relief washed over her, but was quickly followed by confusion and pain.

If not her blindness, then why? What had she done to have pushed him away? To make him never want to speak to her again?

“Why not?” She could hardly breathe as she waited for the answer she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear.

“I didn’t listen to the voicemail,” he repeated slowly. His voice was closer now. She heard him take a steadying breath. “Because I thought you left me.”

“Why would I leave you?” He’d been her entire world.

“The file was on the floor.”

“File?” Her nose crinkled up in confusion. “What file?”

“The file—I’d left it at home. Didn’t realize until… when I came home and the papers were spread across the floor…” His hands ghosted over her arms for the briefest moment before abruptly pulling away. Her traitorous heart leapt and then fell at the almost touch.

“I know I should have told you sooner who I was—what I was… but I was so afraid. So afraid I’d lose you. And when I saw the plates on the table, I knew you’d been there. I thought you’d seen—”

Cecelia closed her eyes. Tried to remember that night. The intruder had held papers in his hands… had that been the file Hero was talking about? She remembered being surprised someone would think a firefighter would have information worth stealing.

“I didn’t read any files.”

“What?”

“By the time I got to the hospital…” Her voice gave out, and she couldn’t continue as the horror and the panic that she’d felt when the doctor gave his diagnosis hit her again.

“I thought you didn't want to come.” The admission tore out of the still-ragged part of her heart, and she distantly registered a pained noise coming from Hero, but she couldn’t stop the next words.

The ones that had beaten themselves into her mind and heart since she’d laid awake all night long on a stiff hospital bed, waiting for him to come. Praying he would come before her vision was completely gone, so she could see his face one last time. The words that had been the only explanation she’d been able to find for why the man who’d had a ring hidden in the back of the silverware drawer had abandoned her to face a darkening world alone.

“I thought you didn’t love me anymore because I was blind.”

Hero went completely still at her words. “Oh. Oh, darling, is that what you’ve thought all this time?”

She tilted her head down, wanting to hide from the warm gaze she could feel following every tear.

Leaves crunched beneath his feet as he slid closer.

“I have no right, at all, to ask. But please, please love, let me hold you.”

Anything she did now would only lead to more pain. So what if he hadn’t known about her blindness before? He knew now. And once the reality set in, once he saw the limitations of her disability, he wouldn’t stay. And she wouldn’t recover from the loss. Not this time.

But right now, all she wanted was to feel his arms around her again.

She gave the tiniest of nods.

With excruciating slowness, his hands rested against her face. His thumbs gently wiping away her tears before his hands slid down her shoulders and pulled her into the familiar circle of his arms.

Her arms came around him as she sobbed into his chest.

She was dimly aware of him leading her back to the bench, of him pulling her down beside him, but all she cared about was the hand running gently over her hair, the arm pulling her snug against him, and the way she still fit perfectly in his arms.

The moment ended too soon.

She felt his arms loosen, and though he didn’t pull away, she knew he wanted to.

“So you don’t know what was in the file.” His hand slid across her hair one more time before falling away.

“No.” What could possibly make her not love him? The worst thing she could imagine was if he’d cheated on her… and there was no way he’d done that.

“I kept it a secret for so long. I always knew one day you’d figure it out and I was terrified you’d leave me. And then when I came home to those damning papers strewn across the floor and my worst fears had come true. I thought your voicemail was goodbye, and I didn't listen to it because… well, I knew, I knew, love, that if I heard your voice one last time, I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from going after you. And if you wanted to leave, who was I to stop you?”

The words both healed and hurt, soothed and shattered the jagged pieces of her heart.

Cecelia leaned into Hero, unable to bear the distance he’d put between them any longer. His arms automatically came around her, but they were stiff, waiting.

So she asked.

“What was in the file?” What secret was so terrible you thought I would stop loving you?

His chin rested on the top of her head and his arm’s tightened around her, as though he was afraid she would pull away. She should. Every moment spent in his embrace would only make his inevitable departure more painful.

“Proof.” His voice was resigned as his arms dropped, taking away her choice. “Proof that I was—that I am Villain.”

✨ a huge thank you to @im-a-wonderling for helping me make this as tragic as possible bc she is the Queen of Beautiful Tragedy and thank you @shieldmaiden-of-gondor for letting me shatter your heart as a trial run- you’re both amazing ✨

Master Taglist:

@im-a-wonderling @shieldmaiden-of-gondor @watercolorfreckles @distance-does-not-matter @onestopheroxvillain @lolafaiy @chaoticgoodandi @1becky1 @tobeornottobeateacher @himynameisorla @superherosweet @brekker-by-brekkerr @crazytwentythrees @great-day-today @sunflower1000 @ill-eat-you-if-you-cross-me @selectivegeekwithstandards @chibicelloking @trantolette @sapphiques @jinpanman @genesissane @wish1bone1 @amongtheonedaisy @distractedlydistracted @kitsunesakii @glitterythief @jinx1365 @cherrychewingbrat @in-patient-princess

Trying out a general taglist- Lmk if you want to be added or removed :)

#tragic misunderstanding #no fluff just angst #I hope this makes you cry #@im-a-wonderling is the #queen of beautiful tragedy #the voicemail #hero x villain #hero #villain #heroes and villains #heroes x villains #snippet #my writing #write #writeblr #hero x civilian #villain x civillain #plot twist

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nightingaelic · 3 years ago

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Very few things are known for sure about the courier one of the few things that are known is that the Courier does not like to stay in one place and prefers to wander, so companions react to the courier who is about to leave the Mojave for a long ass time asking them to join them in their wondering because they grew attached them

I move every couple of years and I just moved again recently so I feel this one kind of hard, @orion-the-king

After a year of constant turmoil, uncertain futures and clashes culminating in a final battle at Hoover Dam, the swirl of hot blood and hotter Mojave sand died down like any other desert storm. Caravans resumed their old routes. Gamblers kept losing money at the Strip. Bears and bulls no longer met each other in open conflict, and the courier who had once been at the center of it all began to grow restless.

After the third time their companion caught them sneaking out of the Lucky 38 in the small hours of the morning, they set their pack down on one of the perpetually-empty roulette tables and sighed. "I'm done here. I know there are things I could still do, but that goes for anywhere, not just New Vegas. Hell, 'anywhere' is calling me right now, and I've never been very good at ignoring her."

They looked up, hesitant all of a sudden. "Come with me. I don't know where I'm going, I don't know if I'll ever come back, but I want... I'd like you there with me, on the road."

Arcade Gannon: "Six..." Arcade ran a hand through his hair, turned away, stared up at the blinking neon sign above the Lucky 38's elevators. "I'm... I don't know if I can. The Followers need all the help they can get now, and there's my family to think about, too. They're all I have, besides you."

The courier nodded. "I know. Well, as far as the Followers are concerned, I think you could spread their teachings wherever we went, but family... I guess that's why I had to ask."

That caught Arcade off guard. He looked down at them again, wide-eyed. "Are you saying...?"

They smiled back at him. "Yeah. You're mine. Closest thing I've got to a family. But... I can't pull you away from yours. Wouldn't be right."

Despite his best attempts, Arcade couldn't contain a smile. "Fortis fortuna adiuvat."

"That's the second time you've said that to me," the courier replied, a tad suspiciously. "What does it mean?"

"Nothing bad," Arcade reassured them. "Can you wait a few days before you set out? There are some things I should take care of here before we hit the road."

Craig Boone: Boone pressed his lips together in thought for a moment. "East or west?"

"Either one," the courier answered, catching his drift. "Or neither. I've never been south. At least, I don't think I have."

"Alright." Boone crossed his arms. "But if it's east, you know what we'll have to do."

"I know. But that would be the direction we'd be least likely to come back from." The courier looked the sniper over carefully. "You're sure?"

Boone nodded. "Might be too much to handle. Even for us."

The courier held their hand out. "Could be. You in?"

Boone grabbed their hand, and the courier pulled him in to press their shoulder to his chest and slap him on the back. "Let's go."

Lily Bowen: "Oh, pumpkin," Lily said sadly. "You have a good life here. You're sure you want to leave it behind?"

The courier grimaced. "It's a good life, but it... it doesn't feel like mine, anymore. Like I didn't choose it. Can you understand that?"

Lily nodded solemnly. "All too well, dearie. All too well. But you shouldn't wander into the desert without some idea of where you want to go."

"Well..." The courier looked up at her shyly. "Where do you want to go, Lily?"

Lily stood still, lost in thought and the fragmented memories that she clung to. When she finally answered, her tone of voice was heartbreaking. "Home."

The courier took her hand in theirs and massaged her palm. "Then let's go home. Together."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "So no plan, as usual." Raul shook his head, but he couldn't help a smirk at the familiarity of the situation. "And you thought you'd just slip out the door in the middle of the night, boss?"

"I've been picking up supplies in Freeside," the courier answered indignantly. "I do plan some things."

Raul chuckled and stepped forward to put a hand on the courier's shoulder. "Of course I'll come, mij@. It's not like I have a whole lot going on in my life unless you're in it."

The courier stuck their tongue out at him. "I thought you hated when I dragged you into new and exciting situations, viejo."

"New and exciting, no. Dangerous? Sí." Raul grinned. "Me gusta tenerte en mi vida, Six. You couldn't leave me behind if you tried."

They matched his grin. "Then go get your guns, vaquero."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass yawned. "And this couldn't wait 'til morning? I'm still recovering from that week we spent tracking down those Vikki and Vance wannabes."

"You've been sleeping for days," the courier shot back with a chuckle. "If you haven't recovered by now, you're never going to. You're getting old, Cass."

"How dare you." Cass fluttered a hand over her chest in mock offense. "I'm still on the good side of 40, last I checked. I could still go toe-to-toe with a deathclaw."

She pointed a finger at the courier and scowled. "Not that that's an invitation to lead me into a den of those critters, Six."

The courier laughed. "So you're in?"

"Of course I am. Can't very well let you wander off into the wastes by your lonesome."

Veronica Santangelo: "Um..." Veronica tugged on her own sleeve and bit her lip. "I don't know if I should."

"Is it...?"

"Yeah." Veronica rolled her eyes around in mock exasperation. "I mean, what else would it be? It's not like I have a whole lot going on, besides the situation with the Brotherhood."

The courier looked down at their feet. "Veronica, don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think sticking around here will make them any more likely to change their minds."

"I know, I know." Veronica shrugged sadly. "But it's not that easy to just leave either, you know? They're family."

"Yeah, I know." The courier looked up at her with a sad smile. "It's okay. I guess I didn't really... I just hoped..."

They left the sentence hanging and grabbed their things again, heading for the door. Veronica watched them go, but by the time they grabbed a hold of the door's handle, she knew she'd made a mistake.

"Wait!" she cried, dashing toward them. "Give me 20 minutes to pack, Six. Then we can..."

The courier grabbed hold of her and drew her into a hug. Veronica was surprised, but she sank into it gratefully.

ED-E: The eyebot beeped an affirmation, then turned to float toward the casino door.

The courier chuckled and shouldered their pack again. "Well okay. Don't know what I expected, honestly. You know you can say no to me, right?"

ED-E blipped twice in a sarcastic way.

Rex: Rex whined, looking between the door and the courier in confusion. He moved to position himself in their way, as if begging them not to leave.

The courier dropped to one knee and took the cyberdog's face in their hands. "It's okay, boy. I already talked to the King. He says he's so busy in Freeside these days, he wouldn't mind if you did some traveling with me so you could get out and about."

Rex barked once and cocked his head to the side. The courier laughed. "Yeah, we'll go see him again before we leave. Don't worry."

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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years ago

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The Fifth Lord: Chapter 4

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu and (Fem!Dragon)Reader [non-romantic], Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Dragon)Reader

Summary: Your name is Y/n Dracul; The only ‘mutant’ that doesn’t have the Cadou Parasite. You already have some sort of power that impressed Mother Miranda; you were the first known Human-Dragon Hybrid. Although you have your own house, “House Dracul”. Your ‘house’ itself is basically an unused wing of Castle Dimitrescu.

Warnings: Heartbreak, sadness, game spoilers [I’m sure everyone has watched or played Village]

A/N: So like- The fly Bela left Y/n is all nice ‘n toasty (Y/n can produce body heat to keep it warm) when they’re outside of the castle.

“Fairy Tail Main Theme - Slow Ver.” Yasaharu Takanashi [Play this when Cassandra says, “Y/n...”]

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

You lost two of your favorite people in the world, one of them being the love of your life. however, that couldn’t be on your mind at the moment. You have a mission; protect Cassandra. You continue down the hall slowly, trying to inhale the air; attempting to pinpoint Cassandra’s location by scent. Once you reach the end, you’re met with the House Dimitrescu house crest on the door. You take Bela’s key and unlock the it.

“Lady Cassandra?” You call out

No answer...

"Lady Cassandra!!" You call out to her

But no answer.

Damnit... Crying doesn’t help when you’re trying to track a scent... But, she must be in an area where she can't hear me... Or she’s thinking I’m Ethan... Or both.

You noticed how your crying stuffed your nose and blurred your vision ever so slightly.

"Lady Cassandra!!" You scream, in an attempt for her to come to you

Again, no response.

She's close though.... God please be okay....

You take the doorway straight across from the entry hall from the hidden doorway.

"Lady Cassandra?" You call out to her, opening the door

She wasn't anywhere to be seen in that room however, look under a fireplace and see a hole; big enough for someone to crawl through.

It's getting stronger...

Without even crawling, you maneuver into the hole and into the armory room.

"Lady Cassandra," you sigh in relief, running over to her

"My lord, what the hell are you doing here?" She asks, turning to you

"Ethan Winters- in our castle- he killed Bela and-and Daniela, he's coming here next," you say, “I must get you to a safe place...”

Before you could continue explaining, the door opens from the other room.

It's his scent... I have to get Lady Cassandra out of here.

"I have to get you out of here," you state, looking for a way out of the armory other than the one you came through

"Like hell I’m running away," Cassandra says, materializing into her fly swarm

"No! Lady Cassandra!" You say, “I have to get you to Alcina!”

But she didn’t listen to you.

“I was worried my sisters have gotten to you first,” Cassandra laughs, taunting Ethan

“Cassandra!” You yell, “No!”

You try to hold her back and for the both of you to head for the exit. However, she elbows you in the gut and pushes you off of her. You’re knocked into a couple of armor sets.

“Cassandra!” You yell once more, “You must get out of here!”

“I told you already my lord I am going to finish what my sisters could not!” She growls at you

It’s not that Lady Cassandra... I can’t afford to lose you... My Lady cannot afford to lose you too...

However, what you notice is what Ethan is carrying in his hand. You forcibly move out from the fallen armor pieces and lunge at him.

“Cassandra!” You yell, “His hand! He has a pipe bomb!!”

However, Winters throws the pipe bomb towards the crevice in the wall. At that point you tried to pick yourself back up to reach for Cassandra instead of Winters.

“Look out!” You scream, your arm outstretched to Cassandra

“What?” Cassandra asks you, confused

However, just before you could reach her, the pipe bomb goes off, knocking the both of you away from each other. You get knocked into some barrels and you wheeze out for air. Cassandra’s screams of pain are muffled.

“Lady.... Cassandra... We.. Have to... R-run...” You groan

“You’ve ruined the hunt!” Cassandra snarls at Ethan

Once you gained your bearings and your vision, you look up and notice Cassandra getting shot at. The screams and pained grunts had sent something up your spine and to your legs.

“Lady Cassandra!” You yell, forcing yourself up from the debris of wood

A bullet grazes your shoulder as you shield Cassandra from oncoming bullets. You let out a frustrated growl as you begin emitting body heat in an attempt to reverse the decreasing metabolism on Cassandra. However, you coil one arm around Cassandra as the both of you begin falling to the ground.

“Get away from her!” You scream

However, your other arm throws a fireball at Ethan. He dodges but faints in the process.

“Come on heat,” You tell your own body, “Don’t let Cassandra die on me!”

“Y/n...” Cassandra says, hugging you, “Stop...”

“I’m not going to watch you die in front of me!” You scream, a fire emitting your entire body

“You’re... Warm...” Cassandra says weakly, “I don’t feel how painful the fire is...”

You let out a human scream as you continue to try and warm Cassandra with your dragon-like fire based abilities.

“Y/n.... It’s no use...” Cassandra says weakly once more, “Stop before you overwork yourself...”

“I cannot watch you die too!” You yell, confessing why you were so persistent on getting her out, “I watched Daniela die... I had come too late for Bela... I can’t let the same thing happen to you...”

“I. Y/n.. It’s okay. I Can’t turn back.. Anyway..” She groans

“We’ll figure something out but for now I have to get you out of here and to get you to-”

“I’ll be able to see my sisters... Won’t I?” She asks you, tears forming into her eyes

You pull away from her to look at her; she’s continuing to crystalize, “You will...”

You try to smile for her but it only turns into an ugly crying frown. You were still trying to emit enough body heat for her however the constant incoming cold air doesn’t help your case.

“It’s okay y/n,” She smiles at you

She smiles as she begins allowing her body to go limp.

“No no no no no no no...” You stutter, trying to figure out how to get her out of the armory

“Tell mother that I... I’m sorry...” She says before reaching out to your hand, “I’ll be seeing my idiot sisters soon...”

Before you could touch her hand she crumbles in your lap and in your arms. You pick the torso up from the pile. You let out strangled gasps as you begin sobbing once more, clutching the torso.

Damnit damnit damnit.... Not Lady Cassandra too! DAMNIT ALL!!!!

Deja vu, you hear a gun cock behind you. You look up and slowly turn your head to Ethan; severely burned.

“Thanks to you, I’m never getting out of here!” He yells

“Thanks to you.... The family I’ve ever loved is gone...” You growl, smoke coming out of your mouth

He immediately puts his gun away at the sight of the combusting gas in your mouth.

“You’re going to pay,” Your two voices coming out of your mouth

You were caught off guard when he was running towards the other side of the room. You were questioning him why he was reaching for an animal skull mount. You only watch him run out of the armory. Your own body goes limp when you look back at Cassandra’s crystal torso but still having your fingers firmly holding onto it for dear life.

“I’m sorry too Lady Cassandra,” you choke on a sob, rocking the torso back and forth, “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you...”

You finally leave the armory and make your way to the bedchamber. You kick open the door, startling Alcina. She stands and begin turning her body to face you however, she stops when she hears your knees make impact with the ground.

“I... Couldn’t save.. H-her...” You stutter over your words, “I-I tried all I could- I. I tried to get her out I really tried...”

Your voice trails off as Alcina walks up to you, taking the torso from your hands.

“’Tell Mother that I’m sorry’,” You say, “Those were Cassandra’s last words...”

You could easily tell that Alcina had been crying. She hides it well. But you? You were a crybaby. As soon as you smelled Bela’s remains, that was it for you. You haven’t recovered yet. You strongly believed you never will.

“Where is Winters now?” Alcina asks, gently but firmly

“I don’t know...” You sigh, hanging your head low, “I was still in shock... Cassandra and Daniela died in front of me... I found Bela too late...”

“I’ll go and find him,” Alcina says, walking past you, “You stay as long as you need dear. You’ve done all you could. Let me finish things here...”

You hear the door shut as you let your body fall onto the floor, seeing Daniela and Cassandra’s remains from across the room.

“Why does everyone I want to protect die in front of me?” You ask yourself, looking at Daniela and Cassandra

You didn’t realize how much time had passed until you jolt your head up when you hear roaring, faint roaring.

My Lady... She must have found Winters....

You exit the bedchambers and begin trudging through the halls, where the roars and gunshots were getting louder. You were exhausted; from crying for the last several hours. You just wanted everything to be over and for you to go back to the way things were. However, you could never go back to the way things were. Because, the people you cared about most in the world were non longer there with you.

“Only The Lady is left...” You say to yourself, entering the hall, “I have to get to her...”

You run across the angel statue hall and push through the heavy doors.

Chapter 5

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #female reader #resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #karl heisenberg #house heisenberg #house moreau #house beneviento #mother miranda #donna beneviento #salvatore moreau

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yelena-bellova · 3 years ago

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Safe Haven: tftaws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Eleven (final chapter)

chapter ten - Chapter Eleven: Safe Haven

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Bucky enjoy their time off in Brooklyn and make decisions about their future.

Warnings: FLUFF, very little angst for once, talk of torture, reference to suicide, open ended plot twist that I'm not sorry for...all the fluff, seriously...

Word Count: 7.3k

A/N: Here we are...part of the journey is the end, and we've arrived. Even though there's another a/n at the bottom (with an important announcement so don't tap out too soon) I want to iterate just how thankful I am for the response I got on this series. I had the most amazing time writing it and loved getting to meet and connect with so many of you through it. ENJOY!!

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It had taken all the strength Bucky had in his soul to knock three times on Yori’s door. He didn’t know what reserve he had had to tap into to actually make his long-hidden confession but once the words had fallen from his lips, he felt both freed and all the more burdened. Watching his friend’s eyes become overtaken by heartbreak, the desperate, confused utterance of ‘why…?’ By the end, Yori wouldn’t even look at Bucky. Bucky didn’t blame him, he was surprised that the man wasn’t yelling him out of his apartment. Instead, he calmly told Bucky to leave, surely holding back the majority of his emotions until he was by himself. The door shut on their friendship and Bucky was by himself on the other side of the door once again, drawing the shaky breath he’d held while he was inside Yori’s place. Out of every person he’d gone to see, every heart he’d had to crush, this one had hurt the most. In the dauntingly long hallway, his eyes sought out the gift the universe had given him, so undeservingly.

His guiding light.

Bathed in the blue light that flooded through the dirty windows of the aged building, Y/n stared down at her feet as she paced. For as open as they’d become with one another, Bucky found himself unable to ask her to accompany him to his last opportunity to make amends. The two of them had become so skilled at reading each other that with one look in his saddened eyes, Y/n had squeezed her phone into the pocket of her jeans and stood by the door waiting for him to ready himself. Bucky was starting to make peace with his past, but he still didn’t know what he had done in his wretched life to have such an angel in his life.

“Hey,” she greeted soothingly, turning to face Bucky as he approached her, “How’d it go?” Bucky wasn’t ready to speak yet, he wasn’t even sure how he could describe what had just transpired. He simply sighed and allowed Y/n to wrap him in her arms in the embrace that was quickly becoming his favorite place to be.

——

As I woke with a groan, stretching my arms over my head, I was immediately aware that one side of the bed was cold. I blindly reached a hand over and felt around for Bucky’s missing body, sitting up when my search was unsuccessful. I blearily scanned the bedroom, our suits laying in a pile that had been kicked to the corner of the desolately furnished room. The few articles of clothing I had gone to the nearest department store and purchased for my impromptu stay in New York still lay folded on top of Bucky’s dresser. It didn’t dawn on me until that moment that I was beginning to spread across Bucky’s apartment without even trying.

It had been four days since the Flag Smasher’s final stand and while the world may have been spinning, mine had never been more steady. Bucky and I hadn’t left his apartment for more than running necessary errands. Other than that we’d spent the time enjoying our slice of domestic heaven learning about one another. I had discovered that Bucky was a good cook but only when it came to breakfast food. He had found out that I needed to sleep with the windows opened slightly for background noise. I had learned that his Spotify consisted strictly of music from the ’40’s and nothing else, contrary to what he’d told Sam about diving into Marvin Gaye’s discography. He’d learned that I got cold easily which led to both me stealing his hoodies and being on the receiving end of many bear hugs. We could tell what the other would do in combat or how they’d handle a concerning matter, but it was finding out the little things about James Buchanan Barnes that made me fall a little bit harder for him with each revelation.

The unlocking and opening of the door followed by quiet footsteps alerted me to his presence. I heard a few muffled noises before the floorboards outside the bedroom creaked, the door opening directly after. Bucky was careful and nearly silent as he came into the room until he saw that my eyes were open. We shared a lazy smile as he approached the bed.

“Did I wake you up?” he asked.

I shook my head in reply, he came to kneel at my side of the bed and pulled the hand he’d hidden behind his back out revealing a bouquet of daisies. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any cuter,” I chuckled, reaching out to grab the bouquet, “I don’t think anyone’s ever bought me flowers.”

“That’s a crime,” Bucky said as he stood up, shedding his leather jacket as he walked around the bed, “In my time, you always brought a girl flowers on the first date. It was just what you did.”

“I guess we can consider my little extended stay a first date,” I dipped my nose down to smell the flowers, “Although I’m pretty sure in your time you wouldn’t allow a girl into your bed so soon.” Bucky snickered to himself, “A gentleman would never let a lady sleep on the floor. And selfishly,” he tugged his second layer, a grey long sleeved shirt off over his head, and looked down on me lovingly, “I sleep better with you here.”

It was true. He’d told me how he’d only used the bed once since he’d moved in, having slept on the floor instead. I was familiar with the phenomenon, Sam had gone through the same thing when he’d returned from the service. I’d told him that if he had a nightmare and needed to move out to his living room, I’d join him with no hesitations. Shockingly, it hadn’t happened yet and we’d slept in a peaceful tangle of limbs each night that I’d been with him.

Kicking off his boots, he slipped under the duvet and sat up against the headboard, looking over at me and patting his jean clad thigh. I set the flowers down and crawled over to him, sinking down onto his lap and sliding my hands around his neck.

“I like this,” he complimented me with a smirk, tugging at the material of his henley that I was wearing, “Looks better on you than it ever would on me.” “Clearly you’ve never seen you,” I scoffed, I’d also learned that the man had no idea just how attractive he was, “What were you off doing?” “Grocery store,” Bucky answered, gesturing to the sidelined bouquet, “Florist. Dr. Raynor’s office…” “Oh, I didn’t know you had a session this morning.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his hands firmly secured around my waist and his thumbs rubbing at my hips. “I didn’t,” he answered, “I, uh, I crossed off all the names in my book. Thought I’d drop by and let her know.” I gave a breathy laugh, “All of them?” He nodded, “All of them.” Surprised and proud, I placed my hands on his cheeks and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “I never doubted you for a second” I said softly, our lips almost touching, “I’m proud of you.”

Bucky gave a small smile, not yet ready to take as much pride as I could in his recovery. I could tell that he was lighter, while his personality was silent and stoic there wasn’t as much sadness lurking beneath it. To those who knew him, the difference in his behavior was visible. The days that I’d been in New York were the happiest I’d seen Bucky since I’d known him.

“So…” I sighed, my hands sliding down to his shoulders, “No more therapy sessions, no more battles to be fought…What do we do now?”

The dreaded question that we’d been avoiding since we’d isolated ourselves from the outside world. There was no doubt as to whether or not I wanted to make it work between Bucky and I, but we hadn’t even discussed what “it” was. What should have unfolded over the course of a couple months had happened as a crash course over two weeks. I didn’t regret it, I just needed to know where Bucky’s head was at regarding our future. “Look,” Bucky averted his gaze downwards, “I’m not…I haven’t done this in a long time and I can’t promise that I’m gonna be good at it. I can’t even promise that I’ll know what I’m doing some of the time. But,” he shyly raised his eyes to meet mine, “I want this. I want you.”

His earnestness was so genuine, I thought my heart might burst from the emotion in his ocean blue eyes. “Bucky, I don’t want perfect,” I said, “And I’m pretty sure that a 106 year old with a robotic arm and a girl who can fly using blue energy from inside her wouldn’t even know what to do with perfect,” I earned a single laugh out of him, “Whatever we have right now, that’s what I want. I want to fight with you by my side and make a difference in the world, then I want to come home with you and teach you to cook something other than pancakes.”

He furrowed his brow, “What do you got against my pancakes?”

“My point is,” I giggled, my hands drifting back up to each side of his neck, “I want you exactly as you are. I haven’t done this in a long time either, I thought that after my dad died I was too broken to ever let myself be happy like this and you know that I’m coming in with more baggage than before. You’re not the only one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. But there’s nobody else I’d rather figure this out with than you.”

The long stare he gave me was reminiscent of the first moment we’d been alone together, standing before the 200 foot drop in Munich. It was the first moment I’d appreciated his beauty, maybe it was the first seed planted in what was now a full-blown relationship in the making. This time, instead of sassing me with those hardened, slightly amused eyes, he surged forward and kissed me, cradling the back of my head in his Vibranium palm. I returned the kiss with just as much fervor, gripping the tight blue t-shirt tightly in my fists. Unlike the kisses we’d shared at 1AM in the kitchen of my house, this one carried a different weight. It was a promise of a future. Movie nights introducing Bucky to the classics that he’d missed. Lazy mornings in bed turned passionate as our bodies surrendered to one another. Protecting each other on whatever battlefields we’d inevitably end up on. Frustrating fights over something we’d inevitably admit was stupid to argue over. Whispering soothing affirmations to help Bucky come down from a violent nightmare. I could taste it all, the good and the bad, in that one kiss and I wanted every bit of it.

“Two weeks…” I said after we’d parted, shaking my head in amazement and laughing, “That’s all it took.” “Crazier things have happened,” Bucky reassured me with a smile, running his hands up and down my back, “My folks always said they knew in a week and they were together for almost forty years.” I bushed my lips against his softly, basking in the euphoria of knowing that the two of us belonged wholly to one another. To think that I’d been willing to throw all of it away mere days ago, I was ready to deprive myself and Bucky of the love we’d craved all our lives. I thanked God that my resolve to stay away had weakened long enough to let Bucky in because now, wrapped in his strong arms with his lips begging for a deeper kiss, I knew that I had something truly spectacular in my hands.

“Well, since this is official,” Bucky said, a little breathless, “There’s something you should have.” He took his hands off of my body and reached behind his neck, pulling off one of his dog tags. Understanding what he was doing and the significance of it, I moved my head to allow him to place the necklace over it, the cold metal of the ball chain settling against my neck. The tag fell between my breasts, I picked it up and read Bucky’s name, his service number, the name of his sister, their address and his birth place. He’d given me, a part of his future, a piece of his history.

“Bucky…” I whispered, not trusting my voice enough to come out steady.

“A lot of soldiers gave one of them to their girls before they shipped out,” he recalled, watching me examine the piece of metal, “At least I know if I ever do ship out anywhere, you’ll be with me.” I bit my lip and smiled, looking up at him with misty eyes. When the first tear fell down my cheek, Bucky was quick to wipe it away and did so with a smile of his own. After all the pain we’d both suffered through in life, we were finally allowed tenderness. Our hearts were scarred, our bodies worn, but no amount of trauma could lay a hand on the way we felt about one another. There’d be many more fights, some with forces bigger than the ones we’d spent the last two weeks taking a stand against. But at the end of the day, I had Bucky, my safe haven to come back to.

“It’s getting late,” I observed after a few minutes of sweet silence, the morning hours were slipping away from us, “Are you hungry? I can make us something.” “Yeah, but,” Bucky’s hands found my arms and he rubbed his palms against them, “Let’s stay here just a little while longer…”

A grin spread across my face, one that I was finding only Bucky could bring out in me. “Okay,” I replied, settling my face in the crook of his neck and resting against his chest, the only place I wanted to be.

——

A FEW DAYS LATER

“You ready, Barnes?” “I’m ready.” “This is the most dangerous mission we’re ever going to face.” “I wouldn’t have come if I couldn’t handle it.” “Then why are you sweating?” “I’m not…sweating.” “Well, at least I know you’ll never lie to me. You suck at it,” I smirked just before smoothing out the shoulders of his jacket, “Follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky blew out a breath, his cheeks loosing their puff as he exhaled, “Here goes nothing…” I gave three sharp knocks on the door before entering, seeing the familiar face waiting in a chair by the window. “Hey, Mama…” My mother smiled deeply at the sight of her daughter, alive before her. “Baby,” she whispered as she slowly rose to embrace me, “Oh, you’re here.” “I’m here,” I smiled, trying to fight the tears threatening to fill my eyes. My mother had been my first call after the battle in New York, realizing that my face was flashing across every news channel in the country alongside Sam and Bucky. This was the first time I’d seen her since before I’d left Louisiana with Sam.

“And you brought someone?” she asked over my shoulder, pulling away to wipe her cheeks.

“I did,” I turned around and looped my arm through Bucky’s, who was looking vaguely nauseous, “Mom, this is James.”

Bucky stuck out his gloved hand towards my mother, “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Y/l/n.”

“Wonderful to meet you too, James,” she responded, shaking his hand and looking over to me, “I’ve been waiting a long time for Y/n to bring somebody home.” I forced a chuckle, “Thanks, Mom…” “Well, I’m honored that I’m the one she chose,” Bucky beamed, his bright eyes seeking mine out.

“Well, sit down,” my mom gestured to the two free chairs in the room, “I want to hear all about how you two met.”

Bucky and I exchanged a nervous look as we pulled up our seats to join her by the window. How were you supposed to explain that you’d fallen for a 106 year old who just happened to have once been the world’s deadliest assassin? “Um…James is one of Sam’s friends from the military. He came with us to Munich and things just sort of,” I slipped my hand into one of Bucky’s that sat in his lap, “Happened from there.” “We didn’t like each other much at first, but,” Bucky chimed in, rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, “She definitely snuck up on me.”

“Oh my,” she looked at me amusedly, “How’s Sam taking this? Has he threatened you yet, Bucky?” “Yeah, I, uh, got a text from him the other day, and it read something like ‘I’ve got access to government weapons, don’t make me use them.’”

I covered my mouth and snorted as my mother got a good laugh herself, “You didn’t tell me that.” Bucky shook his head, a small smile on his lips, Sam and him had been getting along swimmingly since his last visit to Louisiana. But no friendship could eclipse Sam’s overprotective nature when it came to his family, it was only a matter of time until Bucky was on the receiving end of its ugly side.

“Truth is,” Bucky turned his gaze to my mother while keeping a soft grip on my hand, I could feel his nerves radiating through his touch, “I’m crazy about your daughter, ma’am, I think she’s the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”

Mom sighed, an ear-to-ear grin painted across her face. It was the same one I’d seen when my sister had first brought her now husband home to meet us. “I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to hear that, James,” she replied, “I’m looking forward to getting to know you more.” “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” I questioned, “It’s been so long since the whole family was together.” “I wish, but I’m a little too tired to make the trip there,” Mom answered, settling into her seat a little more, “You don’t need an old lady there slowing you down.” “That’s ridiculous,” I gently pushed back, “But since Sam and I are back home for a while, we’ll make sure to bring everybody up one of the weekends.” “I’d like that,” she smiled. A phone buzzing interrupted the conversation, Bucky let go of my hand to reach into his jacket pocket. “It’s Sam, probably wants an ETA,” he announced, rising from his seat and looking between both me and my mother, “Sorry.”

Both of us shooed him out of the room to take the call, turning back to one another once he was gone with shining smiles. “Honey…” “I know…” I tried to hold back a giddy laugh threatening to erupt.

“He seems wonderful…” I shook my head, semi in disbelief that things had turned out the way they had. “You don’t even know the half of it, he’s just…I’m crazy about him.” “That much is obvious,” Mom gestured to my face, “You haven’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door. I’ve never seen you this happy. Just one thing…” I furrowed my brows as her smile turned to a knowing smirk, “Did you honestly think I wouldn’t know who he is?” I sighed, leaning forward in my seat and propping my elbows on my knees. “We weren't trying to hide it, he just doesn’t like to advertise it. Once people know, they usually can’t look past what he was. But, Mom, we’ve been glued at the hip for the last two weeks and I can promise you, what you’re seeing is what you’re getting. I wouldn’t be with him if I thought there was any chance he could hurt me. He saved my life and so many others last week...” “Sweetie, you don’t have to try and sell me on him,” Mom said soothingly, reaching out to touch my knee, “I trust your judgement and I also know what happened to him, it was tragic. The fact that he has a second chance at his life makes me happy, especially since it’s with you. Watching the two of you, how at ease he is with you…And those eyes,” she stopped to chuckle, “The way he looks at you is something special, it’s something magical. The two of you fit.”

Eventually I would tell her the whole story of how Bucky and I came to be, but it was better saved for another day. If she only knew how challenging it had been to get to something so simple and how Bucky and I valued each other all the more for it. “He fought for me, Mama,” I said with tears brimming, letting out a laugh, “Literally and metaphorically. And I just couldn’t let him go, he’s everything I’ve wanted but what I thought I could never have.” Mom placed a hand on my cheek, “You deserve him, my love. After everything you’ve been through, you deserve happiness.” And for the first time, I believed her. I believed that through my suffering, I had played a small part in helping Bucky through his. We deserved something more than what had happened to us and we had found it in one another.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Mom said, her face flashing with a different emotion than joy for a brief second. “I’m not sure about that…” I mumbled, dodging her eyes in favor of staring down at my hands, a different reaction than I’d ever had when talking about my father.

“Sweetie,” she coaxed me, tapping at my hands until I looked back up at her, “Do you…do you know something?” My heartbeat started to quicken as I struggled to contain the information I was withholding from my mother. It was taking everything I had not to tell her that her husband had been a part of one of the cruelest organizations the world had ever seen. The pain must have reflected in my expression. “Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lip and closing her eyes, “You know…” “Mom?”

She sighed, sitting back in her chair and supporting her head in her hand. “I didn’t know anything about that part of your father’s life when I married him, he didn’t like to talk about his time in the ‘service’ and I never pushed it…It wasn’t until the night that he died, before he left the house, that he sat me down and confessed it all.” “He…” I moved to the edge of my seat, “He told you?” “Mmhmm,” she nodded, a distant look in her eyes like she was transported back in time to that very moment, “I didn’t know how to process any of it, how could I? This man who I’d shared my life with and he’d made his living off of inflicting pain on innocent people. Hours later, he was gone and any chance to delve deeper into it was gone too. It’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything, but I made it. You’re free to draw your own conclusions, Y/n, I’m not telling you how to feel. All I’ll say is this,” Mom drew a breath before continuing, “Your father’s guilt over what he did, to Bucky specifically, overwhelmed him. He told me how HYDRA manipulated him, a young and ambitious man, into coming to work for them, lying and telling him they were creating a better world with their work. He thought he was fighting for what was right…I’m not making excuses for him, believe me, I’m simply telling you what he told me. Do you remember when he’d wake up from a nightmare?” I nodded grimly, the shrieks of my father’s always strained vocal cords still haunted me decades later. “Do you remember what he used to cry when he woke up?” Mom asked.

I silently shook my head in reply, when I’d be awoken by my fathers blood curdling screams as a child, I’d always bury my head under my pillow in an effort to block it out, shedding tears at knowing I couldn’t help him. “Soldat…”

My head perked up, the word was familiar to me after hearing Zemo call Bucky the same thing when we were undercover in Madripoor. “Of course by the time that your James was free, your father had been dead for over a decade but,” Mom paused, looking out the window as memories hit her, “Your father’s guilt over what he did ate away at him every day. As far as you went, he told me that the reason he wanted to keep your powers hidden was because he was afraid HYDRA would come for you. It’s the reason I moved us to Delacroix after he died, I didn’t want to take the chance of somebody finding you. Dad didn’t want them to make you a weapon the same way they made one of James. But honey,” she took my hand, “He believed you could do great things, truly. One of the last things he said to me was that our family was the one good thing he’d done in life.”

Everything that I’d thought and everything I’d never thought had been revealed to me. My father’s crimes could never be erased, but some part of me felt satisfied knowing that he knew what he did was wrong. He’d been haunted day and night by Bucky, the man who I was completely head over heels for. In some way, it felt poetic that Bucky and I had ended up together. I couldn’t magically heal his trauma, but for every bit of torture my dad and countless others inflicted upon him, I was now there to shower him in the love and safety he deserved.

“Have you…forgiven him for what he did?” I hesitantly asked.

“You know, after all these years, I’m still not sure what forgiveness looks like in a situation like this,” she admitted with a small shrug, “We weren’t affected, yet his past put us in danger, especially you. And now, seeing the man that he was paid to hurt and how much joy he brings you, it’s bringing up a lot of emotions I thought I’d buried. I know he regretted what he’d done with his whole being and I believe that, but I still question why he didn’t leave sooner. I wish I could give you a better answer but-“ “Mama,” I squeezed her hand and pushed back my tears to help her, “I’ve had this information for a week and I’m still spinning, I can’t imagine what it’s like to sit on it silently for this long. I was hellbent on keeping this from you but I’m actually relieved that I don’t have to hide it…” I took a trembling breath, “Dad did a lot of things wrong in his life, but I have a chance to do a lot of good. I’ve talked to Sam and I’m going to keep working with him, I’m done living with my hands tucked under my legs. I want to make the difference in the world that Dad thought he was making.” “I think you’re off to a pretty good start,” my mother replied, “I was terrified watching you fly around New York, but I’d also never been prouder of you.” A knock on the door followed by Bucky sticking his head through it broke us from the topic. “Am I interrupting?” he asked, his eyes widened slightly as he worried. “Not at all,” my mom said cheerily as she slowly rose from her seat, “I don’t want to keep you two any longer when you’ve got somewhere to be.”

I tightly embraced her and placed a kiss on her cheek, “Love you,” I whispered.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” she replied, gesturing afterwards to Bucky who made his way over to her and allowed himself to be hugged by her, “Take care of my girl, James.” “I will,” Bucky promised, pulling back to give a nod full of conviction.

Once the two of us had shut my mom’s door and were back out in the hallway of the nursing home, Bucky noticed the slight puffiness of my eyes. “Happy tears or sad tears?” he asked as we walked down the hall.

“‘I don’t know’ tears,” I replied with a small smile, weaving my fingers between his gloved metal ones. “But well done, Sergeant. I’d consider that a successful mission,” I finished, receiving the laugh I loved so much and a kiss to the side of my head. I pressed my lips to the place on his shoulder where I knew underneath his layers Vibranium met his skin, one of his favorite places to be kissed. My phone went off then, alerting me to a text, I pulled it out of the pocket. “Bucky…” I muttered, stopping in the middle of the hall. “What is it?” he asked as he stepped back to join me, I held my phone out for both of us to read the ominous words displayed.

The world’s seen what you can do, come to Madripoor when you decide to use those hands for something worthwhile.

- The Power Broker

“How did they get my number?” I asked in surprise, letting Bucky take my phone to examine it closer as if he could find something I couldn’t. “I don’t know,” he answered, handing the device back to me, “But we’re changing it immediately, you need to show this to Sam soon as we get to the house.” “They’re not actually threatening me, seems more like a job offer than anything else that’s only going to be declined. Plus, they’re all the way in Madripoor,” I stuck the phone back in my pocket, “I’m not going to let this ruin our day.” Bucky frowned down at me as I took his arm once again, “You’re a little too relaxed about this.” “I’m a mutant who can make things move with her mind with Captain America for a brother and a Super Soldier for a boyfriend, I’d love to see the Power Broker try to mess with that.”

——

The dock was exactly how I loved to see it, packed and filled with joy.

Sam and Sarah had invited the whole town to the celebratory cookout, people of all ages flooding our corner of the bayou as Bucky and I pulled up. Sam had loaned us his truck for the duration of our stay and I was having the time of my life showing Bucky around Louisiana and there was nothing more Louisiana than a cookout with the entire community.

Bucky parked near the end of the dock and hopped out, carrying the ice cream cake that we’d picked up on our way. He crossed around the front of the truck to open the door for me, taking one of my hands and helping me hop out of the passenger side. After a dozen more reassurances during the drive that the text I’d received wasn’t worth freaking out about, he’d begun to relax. For once, he wasn’t trying to hide his emotions. I could see it plain as day on his face, he was genuinely excited to be back in Delacroix and even more excited when the familiar sounds of AJ and Cass hit our ears.

“Oh! There he is!” Bucky greeted as the boys ran up to us and began throwing fake punches at my boyfriend who willingly played along, dramatically dodging their imaginary hits. He raised up the hand that held the cake over Cass’ head and yelled to which I quickly threw an energy shield underneath his arm to protect the overly expensive dessert.

“Aunt Y/n! Can you make us fly?” AJ came up to my side and begged.

Cass backed his brother up, “Yeah, can we? Please?” “No,” I replied, retaking Bucky’s hand and letting him lead us through the crowd, “But you can follow us with your two perfectly functional legs.” My nephews both groaned and laughed as they fell in step behind Bucky and I. “Where is everybody?” he asked as he set the cake down on one of the picnic tables set out and removed his sunglasses.

“Uncle Sam’s taking pictures with people, Mom’s cooking and Aunt Mel’s at one of the tables,” Cass answered, his face lighting up as he got a good luck at the dessert.

“After dinner,” I said, quickly having switched back into aunt mode, “Now lead the way.”

I extended my hand toward the boys and raised them up a few inches above the ground, receiving laughter and praises in return as I moved them ahead of us and through the crowd. Along the way people kept patting me on the back or sneaking in quick hugs, they shook Bucky’s hand and thanked us both for what we’d done in New York. The only thing that confused me was how people weren’t calling me by name. By the time we made it to Sarah, I had questions.

“There they are, America’s Power Couple,” she announced, coming out from behind the booth where she’d been chopping to hug us both. I pulled back to lower the boys back to the ground, “Do you know why people I’ve known almost all my life are suddenly calling me ‘Sapphire?’”

“Did you not check the internet at all when you were in Brooklyn?” she raised an eyebrow before pulling out her phone from her back pocket and pulling up Instagram, “Ever since the night of the fight, people have been referring to you as Sapphire. People are posting pictures of you, trying to get interviews with you, kids are even dressing up like you!” “Oh my gosh,” I mumbled as I scrolled through the hashtag containing the name, seeing all the proof of Sarah’s words before my eyes. Dozens and dozens of various types of photos displayed my signature shade of blue, “Bucky, look!” He took the phone out of my hand, a smile spreading across his face soon after. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly, handing the phone back to Sarah.

“You wanted the superhero life, you got it,” my sister laughed before returning to what she was doing, “Sam’s doing pictures and there’s already been people asking if you were gonna be here so I imagine they’re gonna want some with you.”

Bucky grabbed my hand and led me around to where a line had formed, spotting Sam as the destination. As soon as he caught a glimpse of us, he held up a finger to the crowd and broke away from them. The three of us exchanged hugs, me internally laughing to myself at the fact that two weeks after saying they never wanted to see one another again, they were now brothers in arms. Sam took my hand and tugged me towards where everyone was gathered, “Lotta people have been waiting for you, Sapphire,” he smirked.

As the day went on, the three of us did meet and greets with nearly everybody. At one point I found Bucky casually talking to Sarah with AJ, Cass and other neighborhood kids hanging off his vibranium arm. People had gathered around me as well asking to levitate them, something that provided entertainment for everyone. We ate, we laughed, at one point I caught Sam and Bucky watching the sun set over the Louisiana waters. I couldn’t resist the temptation to sneak in between the two and was received with an arm around each of my sides. We’d fought a shared battle along with our own separate three and now that they’d all been put to rest, we could take a minute to enjoy the freedom we’d worked so hard for. The future was unknown, but I knew that if we’d made it through the mess of a week we’d had together, there wasn’t a whole lot that we couldn’t make it through.

——

When the sky darkened, the dock lights went on and the party kept going. Someone had brought out a Bluetooth speaker and there was now a section of the dock that acted as a makeshift dance floor. I was seated at a table with Melanie watching the show, baby Alexandria fast asleep in her arms. “So…Bucky,” my sister said teasingly teased.

I let out a loud sigh, “Bucky.” “He’s perfect for you,” she smiled, “I’m glad you brought him home.” “Me too,” I scanned the dock until I spotted my boyfriend, engrossed in a conversation with Sam, “He fits right into the family.” “I’ll say, the kids love him. Max and Sophia have been following him around all day, I’ve never been able to get the baby to sleep as fast as when he held her…” I chuckled, “Yeah, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more attractive, you stuck a baby in his arms.” Mel snickered at my reaction, “Yeah, pretty sure every woman on the dock snapped a picture of that.” The two of us burst into laughter before hushing ourselves as to not wake the sleeping infant. “Hey, Sapphire,” she nudged my shin with her foot, “I’m proud of you.” “Well, that’s a far cry from how you felt last week,” I commented, remembering the fear in my sister’s voice from our phone calls in Riga.

“I’m always going to worry about you, but once I actually saw you do your thing,” she breathed, “I was just in awe of how you would risk your life to save all those people. It would be a waste to not put your gift to good use.” I leaned my head against hers and brushed a finger over Alexandria’s thinly haired head, appreciating the sweetness of the moment. Once a slow song came on the speakers, I watched as Bucky stepped away from Sam and made his way over to our table. “Can I steal your sister away for a dance?” he asked Mel. “Steal? You can keep her,” I shot my sister a faux smile while she watched on with a grin as I took Bucky’s outstretched hand and let him lead me away. “Gonna show me some more Madripoor moves?” I jested as we walked across the dock. “That was not dancing, although I did enjoy it,” Bucky replied, giving me a wink that could have melted me into a puddle, “I’ll show you what real dancing is.” I recognized the song as a version of ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ and realized Bucky waited until now to show off any moves in his arsenal because it was probably the first song he recognized on the playlist. He encircled my waist with his flesh arm and took my hand in his Vibranium one, pulling me so close that there wasn’t any space left between us. He began to sway us slowly to the beat of the song. I rested my cheek against his, breathing in the scent of him mixed with the bayou evening air. As far as I was concerned, dancing in the arms of the man I was somehow lucky enough to call my own in the place I loved most in the world was the perfect end to a perfect day.

“Alright, I give…” I relented softly, close enough to his ear that I barley had to speak louder than a whisper for him to hear me, “Your version of dancing is better.” He gave a gentle laugh, the sweetest sound, and rubbed at my waist, “It’s more about the partner than it is the actual dance, think I’ve got the best one.”

“You certainly know how to make a girl blush, Sergeant Barnes,” I replied just before he spun me out of his arms and back into his body, “When’s your flight back to Brooklyn?” Bucky cocked an eyebrow, “Already tired of me?”

“Never,” I shook my head with a genuine smile, “Just trying to soak in all the time I can with you before you go back.” “About that…” he trailed off, turning his gaze to the various other couples dancing around us, “I was thinking of maybe extending my stay. I mean the scenery’s nice, good food,” he looked back to me, “Decent people.” The grin that I was fighting was starting to make itself very apparent, “What are you saying?” “Well,” Bucky shrugged and looked away again, “I mean, I’d need to find a place, hopefully nothing too expensive or else I’d have to find a roommate and even then, it’d be hard to find someone I like enough to live with…”

“Bucky…” I’d ceased our movements to show just how serious I was, searching his face to try and tell if he was joking or not. “What do you say, doll? You think you can put up with me a little while longer?” he asked with a smirk. I exhaled happily and pulled him down to my lips, kissing him with all the excitement that filled my veins at the prospect of him staying. When we finally pulled away, I cradled his cheek in my hand. “I will put up with you for as long as you want,” I beamed, pecking his lips once more. “I’m glad,” Bucky kissed my temple, “It was either telling you this or the other thing…” “What’s the other thing?” I asked, thinning my eyes at him in expectancy of another surprise.

Bucky drew a breath, taking a few seconds to steady himself for whatever he was planning to say. “Well, I was going to tell you that I love you but,” he clicked his teeth, “Now that I think about it, it’s probably better saved for another time,” The earth ceased to move and spin at a dizzying pace all at once, his blue eyes never more truthful than they were in that moment. “I think you’re right,” I said over the lump in my throat, holding back the tears that had come all to quickly, “Best to save that for another day, wouldn’t want to make a hasty declaration or anything...” “That’s what I was thinking,” Bucky replied plainly, continuing our charade. I gave him a watery smile, bringing one of my hands up to run through the hairs at the base of his neck. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Both of Bucky’s arms wrapped around my waist, clutching me as tight as he could without actually injuring me as our lips met. I encircled his neck and relaxed into him completely, feeing aglow with the love that I could finally admit to feeling. Both of us smiled into the kiss, feeding off of the mutual joy of what was unfolding before us. Was it crazy to commit in the ways I was committing to a man I’d known for only two weeks? To some, yes. But ‘some’ hadn’t formed the bond that Bucky and I had over the short span of time it had taken for me to fall in love with him. We had seen the best and the worst of each other, rising and falling with one another’s waves and learning what made the other tick. I wanted every part of him, the good, the bad, the traumatic and the pure. The quick decisions that would raise eyebrows made sense to us, and that was more than enough reason for me to see each one through.

“Thanks for not giving up on me,” Bucky said softly after we’d parted, pulling back to admire me. “Thanks for not letting me give you up,” I returned, staring up into the eyes that had first captured me. The eyes that I’d get to stare into each and every day.

Since the night we’d connected on the jet ride to Berlin, there was some way Bucky had made me feel that I couldn’t put a name to. Something I couldn’t understand at the time but I was fully aware of now. Bucky felt like home. And with our bright future ahead of us, wrapped in his arms dancing underneath the Louisiana stars, I’d never felt more at home.

----

A/N: I'm not crying, you're crying. GUYS. IT'S OVER. WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MY TIME NOW? I want to thank every single person who liked, commented, reblogged, sent messages and asks and supported this silly little fic I thought up one day after watching TFATWS. As someone who is super insecure about their writing, seeing it well received was a boost to my confidence to keep running with this. I've loved getting to write this and give it to you all and can't wait to write more for you. I'm adding my new taglist link for anyone who would like to be added, it's separated by the characters I write for and you can choose which ones you'd like to follow. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES AGAIN. I LOVE YOU ALL 3000!!

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlyhufflepuff @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @zozebo @fandomxreaders @kittengirl998 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @i-know-i-can @x-judyjude-x @thebi-valkyrieofvalhalla @buckverse @living-that-best-life @haphazardhufflepuff @citlalireedus @lindseyrae20 @missstef23 @qhbr2013 @sebby-stann @bluemoon-icecream @iixbella @lets-love-little-me @abitofeverythinggg @itsnottilly @sltwins @mads-weasley @hart-failure @natdrunk @nctma15 @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @patdsinner33 @rosebucketbarnes @tylard-blog1

#bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sam wilson x platonic!reader #sam wilson x reader #marvel imagine

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mysoftboybensolo · 3 years ago

Text

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 13: The Holidays

A/N: This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, Victorian Christmas, mentions of past abuse, but much fluff! I had done my research on what Christmas was like back then, as well as the Hanukah dates and it seems 1897 was a big year; “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus” was published in September of 1897, electric Christmas lights were growing in popularity and the unification of the boroughs in New York was official on New Years. And there is your history lesson of the day.

The air grew colder as Laszlo and Evelina’s relationship grew warmer. Evelina was spending more time with the team, just as Laszlo was becoming more and more acquainted with Evelina’s opera friends. Compared, they were a more rambunctious group, and she knew that Laszlo had his limits, but admired him for trying so hard. Maria often helped Laszlo along when Evelina was not by his side and he felt immensely grateful to her for guiding him through the corral. At first, her opera friends hadn’t been sure of Laszlo, unsure of this man who makes a living in psychoanalyzing people, who didn’t seem to fit in anywhere, but they always caught the spark of joy in his eyes when Evelina came beside him, the way he tried so hard for her. Even if he couldn’t keep up with them, they still saw the utter devotion between the pair and that was enough for them to approve the relationship.

It was a time for the singers to rest themselves for The Nutcracker to be performed, and a real treat for them all. It had done so well last Christmas that the opera house had decided to do it again, and who knows, perhaps it will become a Christmas tradition.

As November closed in, Evelina had been helping Sara scout out locations for her new agency, hoping that she’ll find it before the weather turned too cold to be out scouting. As they looked around a space, Evelina asked Sara a few questions. “What will you require of your workers to do?”

“Just as any other detective agency will have, secretaries, detectives. Roosevelt has agreed to let the officers help us whenever we need it, which must mean he bears no ill will towards my leaving. Hmm, no, too small. I need at least four rooms; this will not do.” They stepped out into the cool air, leaving them both to shiver. “Winter certainly is coming, there is no doubt.”

“Yes, that shall mean Christmas!” Evelina replied excitedly. “It’s my favorite time of year. Everything looks so magical with the snow and the good cheer, and of course the music.”

“Well, then you might convince Laszlo to have a party this year. He doesn’t celebrate it, at least, from what I have known of him. I wonder if it comes from an unhappy memory,” Sara mused.

“Then I shall make it my duty to give him a Christmas full of happiness. The opera will be performing The Nutcracker, perhaps I will invite him to a performance then have a party. It’ll only be a small affair, you, John, and the Isaacson Brothers.”

Sara looked at her strangely then asked, “You are aware that they are Jewish, don’t you?”

“I am more than aware, in fact, I know that it starts on the nineteenth of December and ends on the twenty-seventh. And it doesn’t have to necessarily be a Christmas party, but a holiday party. A celebration of simply being together and friends. Surely, Laszlo couldn’t object to that.”

Wrapping her arm around Evelina’s, Sara couldn’t help but to smile. “Not when you put it that way, he wouldn’t.”

Laszlo visited just shortly after the ladies returned home, feeling too frozen to go any further. “And how has the property hunting been going for you?”

Sara groaned, “Don’t mention it. It feels as if I am never going to find the perfect place. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to get myself a good stiff drink,” she huffed as she went off to the kitchen, leaving Evelina and Laszlo alone in the den.”

Now was the perfect time for her to ask the question. “Laszlo, Christmas is coming soon, and I was wondering what it is that you do for the holidays?”

“Well, Christmas Eve, I spend it with the children who are left behind at the institute, watch them open their gifts in the morning then return home for a quiet day in.”

“Oh, Laszlo,” she said, “I love that you take care of your children, but what about yourself? Doesn’t it get to be a bit lonely?”

He pursed his lips in thought then said, “Well, yes, I suppose, but it was better than what I used to have when I was younger. Those were the better days. We hosted a fine Christmas party, my father was at his best and my mother wore her finest, and the house looked like a picture book. But” he said, with matter-of-fact tone, “When the party was over, it wasn’t so picturesque.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” she softly affirmed.

“No, I want to, and we promised, no secrets.” It was true, after the absolute confusion that came from not sharing their feelings and the disaster that followed, they had agreed that nothing would be held back. “Santa was not something told in my household, but rather the fear of God. He’d make me read the bible which involved the birth of Christ, but any little flaw, hesitation or stutter and he’d beat me while calling me a blasphemer for ruining the scripture.”

She wanted to ask how that was better than the usual days, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that. “My mum died just a week before Christmas, and to celebrate it without her was awful. Winston was not manageable during those times,” she paused after the mention of her brother, and Laszlo saw a flash of pain in her eyes. “When he was locked up, that first Christmas, my father broke down, he felt he had broken his promise to my mother in keeping the family together. Even though I told him that he was not to blame for Winston’s actions, every year after, I could see the echo of pain in his eyes. This will be my first Christmas without any of them.”

Laszlo lifted his hand, unsure if he ought to reach out and comfort her, and knowing that she’d not only appreciate it, but that he’d have to get used being open with another, he placed a hand on top of hers, which rested on her lap. It was the right move to do, as it had made her smile and lean in to rest her head against his shoulder. Laszlo felt a small surge of pride in himself, he was doing better in showing intimacy and he liked it.

Having a party to plan helped to fill Evelina’s free time from the opera, but most importantly, it allowed her the chance to make a surprise for Laszlo. Thanks to her covert cleverness, she found out which children will be spending Christmas at the institute and with the permission of the staff, she managed to pull them together to work on a surprise for him. They nearly got caught once, Laszlo came back from a meeting a bit sooner than Evelina expected, but she managed to play it off well, saying that she had been bored and wanted to play the piano for the children.

Stevie proved to be rather helpful in preparing Christmas at Laszlo’s home and was more than happy to be commissioned by Evelina to help with the planning. He scoured out the best decorations and the best tree to have standing in Laszlo’s den, and when he was finished with it, even he could admit he did a rather fine job. There was one thing that Laszlo had a hand in the decorations, and it was the purchase of these new electric string lights, meant to replace candles, and it was a smart choice, and in Evelina’s words, magical. As Stevie was busy with the decorations, Evelina was off to work with the invites and the Isaacson Brothers were surprised to say the least but were still very pleased to be invited to such a party, knowing how much it meant to her. Sara had been the first unofficial guest invited and John most certainly was not one to pass up a party.

Christmas Eve arrived and Evelina dressed herself in her green and red velvet walking gown, truly getting into the spirit and went to the institute to see Laszlo. Many of the parents came to take their children home for the holidays and as much as it was a wonderful sight to see parents not forsake their little ones, it was doubly heartbreaking to see those few whose parents never came. It was Laszlo and Evelina’s special mission to make sure that they still received the experience that they would have had if they were home, even carrying on the duty of decorating the tree and great hall for the children to enjoy. Most of the staff could go home to spend it with their family, but there were a few who did not have a family of their own who stayed and happily joined in the festivities with the children.

Daylight had gone when was a surprise waiting at the front door, and who would have guessed that Santa would come and see the children of the Kreizler Institute? Watching John all dressed up as Santa was a delight, especially when the younger children climbed on his lap and gave “Santa” a hug and wished him a Merry Christmas. It didn’t take much convincing, for John thought it a wonderful idea and he could not say no to Evelina’s sweet intentions, even if it made him look a bit silly. Sara was the unofficial Mrs. Claus, dressed in her lovely green evening gown and many of the children loved going up to her and asking questions of the North Pole, truly convinced that she was indeed the wife of Santa. She watched John take in the children’s excitement with great stride and enjoyment and thought it the finest thing she had ever seen, and her heart swelled at the thought of him doing this for the children.

When John and Sara left, it was time to show off Evelina’s surprise. Gathering the children up, she sat at the piano and began to play. Laszlo watched with wonder and love as Evelina led the children in a most heavenly rendition of Ding Dong Merrily On High, the children looked so happy to be a part of something. He wasn’t even bothered by the religious overtones of the song; he just enjoyed the sweet voices that sang in perfect harmony and was touched to see that his love put so much effort into surprising him.

Soon, it got to be bedtime and the children were escorted back their rooms, eagerly awaiting Santa’s arrival and the staff to their rooms. Usually, Laszlo was the only one to take up the duty of stuffing the stockings and providing the children with gift, making sure each one got an equal amount from Santa. Evelina stayed with him and happily helped to stuff the stockings, despite her own sleepiness. It was an endearing sight, the pair of them on the floor, helping to stuff stockings and wrap presents.

“How long have you done this?”

“Ever since the institute was opened. It was quite sad to see those children left behind to have nothing, so I made sure to carry on the tradition of Santa. You may think that I do not agree with the idea of telling fantastical stories to children, but I think it is important in the development of a child. It stimulates their creativity as well as teaches them lessons.”

Evelina smiled and started with, “Don’t laugh, but I still believe in Santa. Oh, I don’t mean that there is an actual person who goes about in a flying sleigh and gives presents to all children around the world, but the idea of him. Do you remember back in September there was that article answering a little girl’s question of if there was a Santa? That article was a wonderful summation of how I feel about Santa. How there is someone who can be full of good cheer and selflessness and the possibility that we could be just like him. Like this, right now. The fact that you go out of your way to make sure these children have a merry Christmas, to never make them feel left out, it is very Kris Kringle of you. And I am sure you’d look dashing in red.” His deep blush only proved her right.

It was nearing midnight when they had finished and left the institute and despite the chill, they walked through the snowy streets, enjoying the calm and winter beauty. “I am sorry if this wasn’t what you had imagined you’d spend your Christmas Eve.”

“Indeed, it was far better than I could hope. To help give children a good time, to create magic and now walking home with you, it is wonderful.” The church bells tolled, and they stopped to listen to the lovely knells as it chimed Christmas day. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

Laszlo smiled, knowing that she gave him at last an endearment. “Frohe Weihnachten, meine liebe.”

Laszlo came to pick up Evelina early on Christmas day so she could be at the institute before the children woke and watch with Laszlo as they opened their gifts from Santa as well as from Laszlo himself. She loved the glimmer in his eyes when looking at the children enjoying themselves, forgetting their woes and problems, glad to see that they would have a normal childhood that he never had. Once he was sure that the children were taken care of, the pair went off to enjoy Christmas themselves. It had been purely coincidental, but Laszlo wore his dashing green vest and tie while Evelina wore her lovely red satin dress, looking as if they had coordinated with the holiday and each other, anyone who didn’t know them would have been certain they were husband and wife.

The party was beginning at noon, giving time to everyone that was coming to enjoy their morning and get ready to spend it together. Sara had been the first to arrive, no surprise, the Isaacson Brothers came, Marcus brought along his dear Esther and her daughter, and then John. Laszlo had almost thought that all the guest had arrived, when Stevie entered and said, “We’ve got two more guests!”

Laszlo looked perplexed, for who else could come, and Evelina watched in amusement as his mouth fell agape as Cyrus walked in with his niece, Joanna, looking rather fine in their Sunday best. Laszlo jumped up from his seat and went to his old employee and friend. “Cyrus! How are you? I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No, but Miss Lind did. Stevie brought Miss Lind to my work and she had personally invited me to the party, as well as Joanna. It was wonderful of her to come to me personally.”

Evelina stood and warmly greeted Cyrus and Joanna. “I am so glad you came. Laszlo told me so much of you and I just had to properly get to know his dear friend.”

“And I am honored to know the woman who could convince him to throw such a party,” Cyrus laughed heartily.

Evelina had been a wonderful hostess, making sure everyone had been attended to, even making sure Stevie felt welcomed in the celebrations and had helped Lucius feel a bit more at ease with the help of Joanna, of which the pair seemed quite intrigued by each other. Laszlo watched in wonder of how she could manage to move around with grace, kindness and energy when he still had difficulty to be as open to those of whom he feels are his friends. He admired her and was honored to be the man of whom she loved above others.

The afternoon was spent playing games, Blind Man’s Bluff, Yes and No, and Charades. Laszlo had sat out of Blind Man’s Bluff, but allowed himself to be dragged into Charades and Yes and No. He was afraid of appearing to look ridiculous, but Evelina argued that everyone was doing the same, so they all looked the same amount of ridiculousness. The luncheon was informal, people made their own plates and sat around Laszlo’s den, like they all were old friends, and it was a kind of homey feeling that Laszlo had never felt before, it was warm, safe, good.

It would not be a good party without a mistletoe, at least according to John, who hung it over his friend’s head and teased that someone ought to kiss him or else he will. Evelina more than happily rose to the challenge, making it the second kiss that the pair had shared. She challenged John to hang it over his head and get a kiss, or else he’ll have to kiss the lizard at the institute, and just as she hoped, Sara decided to help him out by placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, but he turned on accident and the pair had kissed on the lips. The blush on their faces told so much and Evelina buried her face in Laszlo’s chest to try and stop her smile from being noticed, but she spotted something beyond him. Moving towards it, she couldn’t help but to admire the beautiful piano. Laszlo came up beside her and said, “You may play on it whenever you wish. It’ll be nice to see that old thing getting some use. I haven’t played in so long.”

“You played?” She had never known that Laszlo used to play, at least before the incident.

“Yes. I was quite good.”

“Better than good,” Sara interjected, coming in the conversation, hoping to escape her situation. “His name was in all the papers; he could have been a great pianist.”

“Why don’t we do gifts?” Evelina suggested, hoping to prevent Laszlo from falling into his darker thoughts, and she excitedly handed out her gifts. They weren’t expensive gifts, but they were heartfelt and personal to each, and that meant more than anything in the world, even Stevie, who hadn’t expected to get a gift and didn’t usually like to be sentimental, but even he couldn’t refuse the copy of An Anarchic Adventure by Jules Verne, his favorite author. Laszlo had received a copy of The Psychology of Emotions by Théodule-Armand Ribot, of whom Laszlo had been fascinated with.

Laszlo made himself go last, giving everyone incredible gifts; Stevie getting his very first shaving kit as he was now a young man, Esther and her daughter fine new dresses, to name a few, and lastly went to Evelina, giving her a box. When she opened it, it was a beautiful toiletry box, made of a dark wood and lined with pink velvet. Opening one of the drawers, she noticed two large and full bottles of her perfume, ‘Fantasia de Fleurs’. “Oh, Laszlo! This is too much! And on top of that, two bottles of my perfume?”

“It is not too much,” he countered, “And besides, it is for selfish reasons too, for I love your scent, perhaps a bit too much,” he admits with a blush across his cheeks. “No one else should buy this for you but myself.”

It was true; when she did first receive this, it was meant to be a bribe gift from one of the patrons at the opera, but she loved the scent too much to toss it away. To have Laszlo buy it for her not only was sweet, but intimate, and she liked that he felt way, wanting no other to buy her perfumes. Sara had been the one to inform which perfume it was and told Laszlo that she had mentioned about getting a box of her own, and he made sure to get the finest box with the two largest bottles so she wouldn’t have to.

The Isaacson Brothers had left with their guests and just before everyone was to go off on their own, Evelina made sure to have a few carols played and sung. John and Sara had quite nice voices which blended very well together, Cyrus deep and warm, and Joanna and Stevie wholeheartedly sang. Laszlo’s voice was not deep or powerful, but it was soft and comforting, and it sounded wonderful to hear him sing Silent Night in German, a request that Evelina had asked, and he did only for her. When he sang, all stopped and listened, and all Laszlo could see or know was Evelina, playing the piano, with a grace and power that reminded him of his youth. Instead of painful memories, it made him smile and happy.

Cyrus and his niece left to have dinner with their family, John to his grandmother’s, leaving Sara and Stevie to join Evelina and Laszlo to the opera for The Nutcracker. This had been Stevie’s first time to the opera and the wonder in his eyes was so enduring and how he watched as the story enfolded before his eyes. In the dark of the auditorium, Evelina had reached her hand over to Laszlo’s, and held it. He looked over at her and wordlessly, he thanked her for a wonderful Christmas.

The good cheer from Christmas continued to carry on for the next few days as New Year’s was approaching and for good reason. The New York government had made the decision to unite the five boroughs of the city to create what would be nicknamed “Greater New York” and it was a wonderful reason to celebrate.

It was a momentous occasion, one that Evelina wished to see and thanks to Laszlo’s influence, they managed to watch it all happen close by and safe away from the mad crowd and the pouring rain. As the New Year rang, everyone watched in wonder as fireworks blasted in the sky, cannons fired, steamboats blowing their horns and brass bands played their hearts out, for when the new year rang, the new flag had unfurled over city proclaiming it’s celebration, the birth of the City of New York.

“Oh, darling,” Evelina gasped, “Just think, we are lucky to have seen this happen. To see a city come together as one, it’s beautiful!”

Laszlo wrapped his arms around Evelina’s waist and placed his head in the crook of her neck as they watched the city celebrate outside, “1898 shall be a happy year. I am sure of it.” She turned her head and shared their third kiss but first kiss of their new year and turned back to watch the merriment.

It then struck him right then and there, something that he thought would never be possible, something he’d never have, and yet it was here in his arms, and he would not let it go so easily. Now, it was just the matter of asking the question.

Tagging: @monsieurbruhl @cazzyimagines, @scuttle-buttle, @violetmuses @flutterskies @sokoviandelights @rumblelibrary @fictionlandslanddreams @somethingthatsaysbubbles @alindeluce and @barnesxnobles

#the alienist #laszlo kreizler #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #fanfiction

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1dsource · 4 years ago

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This list consists almost entirely of recent fics, so please show them some extra love and leave a kudos, and even a comment if you have the time. It’s important we also give the newer, unknown authors a chance so they keep having motivation to write more amazing stories for us all to read <3

loving you's a bloodsport by @rosesau l 106K l Royalty AU l Soulmates

harry is a bratty prince, louis is a guard who works in his palace, and niall is the only who's got his life in control.

as someone once said: this is not a love story, but love is in it. that is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in.

Fearless by @suspendrs I 97K I Childhood Friends I Famous/Not Famous

“You’re my best friend, Louis,” Harry says, barely above a whisper. Even if he was yelling, Louis wouldn’t be able to believe his ears. “And I know it’s been a while, but you’re still the person I consider my best friend,” Harry says.

Louis blinks, and then blinks again. “I honestly cannot say the same, Harry,” he says.

Or, Harry left home without a word after high school, and a lot can change in ten years.

Kill Me/ Heal Me @millionlittletings I 92K I Royalty I Dystopia

The kingdom of Scotland hasn't been in peace for decades now. In the heart of the country lies the rivalries, hate, and struggle of power. Amidst the chaos, five young men discover the meaning of life, friendship, love, hate, and heartbreak through their journey. Louis, who is struggling to find a place where he belongs. Niall, who will protect what belongs to him with his life. Zayn, who is learning to navigate through life. Liam, who knows when to use his heart and when to use the brain. Harry, who is set to kill anyone who will come into his way of finding the truth about his mother. From dealing with their personal issues to finding out the real culprit who changed the course of their lives, these five men are set to uncover the deepest and the darkest secrets of the kingdom.

adjudication @bottomlinsons I 75K I Royalty I Arranged Marriage

Harry's been engaged to Princess Charlotte of Ryde for as long as he can remember. He's come to know her, to love her, through the letters she's sent him over the past three years.

But when the wedding finally arrives, Harry quickly learns that nothing is as it seems. With his crown and country at stake, Harry must decide who to trust in this strange new land. And the sly Crown Prince of Ryde doesn't seem inclined to make things easy.

The Devil In My Brain by larryshares I 74K I Devil Harry

“Jesus Christ!” Louis yells as he jumps back in reaction to Harry once again popping up out of nowhere.

Harry doesn’t even flinch.

“Quite the opposite.” He jokes, holding out one of the drinks for Louis to take. A freshly sizzling vodka Red Bull; his favorite.

Louis’s initial reaction is the thought you remembered.

His rational brain says, “No thanks.”

“Louis.” Harry says it like a concerned parent, the tone of it matching the way his mum used to say Boo Bear, you have to eat your vegetables to grow up big and strong, and that ignites something feral within him.

“Satan.” He counters, same tone coupled with a glare and a pair of arms crossed over his chest.

Louis used to be good friends with Harry, until he woke up alone and immortal with no one to blame but The Devil himself.

Under your skin, Over the moon by @indiekissy I 35K I Royalty

If there was one thing Harry didn’t expect the day before his uni graduation, it was for his long lost grandmother to show up and tell him he’s actually a prince thats next in line to rule Genovia. He also didn’t expect to fall for his royal advisor, who happens to hate his guts. A Princess Diaries AU.

robbers and cowards @adoredontour I 33K I Enemies with Benefits

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think that you’re enjoying yourself.”

The familiar voice immediately gets Louis’ blood boiling, shoulders tensing as he calmly spins around, trying not to draw any suspicion to the pair.

“You don’t know me at all,” Louis spits, managing to maintain the polite smile he’s been wearing all evening. “You’re just some asshole who always ruins my nights.”

“If I keep ruining your nights, why do you keep going home with me?” Harry asks, taking a sip from his own wine glass.

“I don’t go home with you by any choice of my own,” Louis says. “I think you’re annoying and I have no idea how I keep ending up in your bed.”

“You end up in my bed because you knock on my apartment door at two in the morning.”

Louis wants to punch the smirk right off of his face. “Maybe you should move,” is what he says instead.

or a modern day robin hood au where louis and harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more

Strong Enough by @jacaranda-bloom I 20K I Exes to Lovers

“So…” Liam starts, and Louis instantly knows where this is going. He’s actually glad it’s Liam that's dragging the subject out from the shadows and into the light. Louis turns to face him, mirroring his position on the couch and nods, ready for him to continue. Liam takes a deep breath. “Have you spoken to Harry recently?”

Five years after Vertigo goes on hiatus, the band comes back together for a benefit concert. Can Louis and Harry work through their complicated past, or are some wounds too deep to be healed?

solid as a stone (when everything is gone) by @onlyforthebravee I 20K I ABO

“Why’d you take me with you?”

Louis startles at the question, the car almost swerving off the road in the process. He holds his breath as he waits for the twins to wake up and start wailing, but they don’t. They keep sleeping on peacefully, covered in the family blanket.

Harry’s looking at him with an unreadable expression.

Louis takes a minute, mulling it over. He answers quietly. “I hate to say it, but as much as we hate each other, I can’t bear to leave you alone to deal with this whole thing all by yourself.” and I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you died, he adds in his mind.

or, it's the zombie apocalypse and Louis is stuck with Harry, with whom he shares a complicated relationship.

once bitten and twice shy by @pinkcords I 19K I Christmas Fic

This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?”

Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended.

Equals by onlythebravekat I 12K I 1970′s AU

Louis and his family work for the Styles and live on their property. Louis has dreams of traveling the world and never having to associate with Harry in any way.

The Boxer by heyidkyay I 4K I Uni AU

At the age of twelve Harry’s life is turned upside down. After a traumatic experience, he leaves school and finds comfort in boxing. Six years later and Harry finds himself facing some of his former demons.

Again, if you read, please remember to leave kudos and/or a comment so we keep motivating our lovely, talented writers and make them feel valued

#hlsource #hljournal #larry fanfiction #fics #larry #enemies to lovers #ficmp

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cinnella · 4 years ago

Text

Name: Syro Beeks (chosen name); Nehal Desai (birth name)

Age: 24 years old

Sex: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Zodiac sign: Leo

Birthday: August 4th

Patron Arcana: Strength (Major); King of Wands (Minor)

Occupation: Combat specialist/magician

Height: 6'5" (1.95 m)

Weight: 227 lbs (102 kg)

Relatives:

Neith Desai - older sister

Aditi Desai - mother (deceased)

Dipankar Desai - father (deceased)

Banhi Desai - grandma (deceased)

Origin: Born on the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, grew up in Vesuvia

Race: Indian

Powers: Red (combat) magic and pyrokinesis

Intelligence Level: On a scale from 1 to 10, he's a solid 6.7

Backstory:

He'd been born on a very rainy day, his mother unexpectedly delivering him 1 month prematurely. His parents hadn't decided a name for him yet, so they let Neith do that instead. And looking outside the window at the pouring rain, she named him Nehal, which means exactly that.

About a year later, his parents who were mountain climbers, decided to go on a trip to the Clouded Mountains. They left their kids with their grandma, Banhi, as she wished them good luck in the mountains.

A week had passed when Banhi received news from someone who'd been on the ship with their parents. Unfortunately, while they were climbing the mountains, a storm came and threw them off balance together with a multitude of other people. Only a few of them survived.

With no one else to take care of them, Banhi made it her goal to raise her grandchildren as her own.

One day, while she went out to the market with them, to buy groceries, little Nehal was sleeping soundly in a basket, until Banhi put it down and woke him up. Both her and Neith had their attention on the vendor, so he crawled out of it and away. By the time they noticed, he was out of sight.

They searched and searched and called out to him, but to no avail. He was in someone else's arms, heading towards a new home.

Not much later, he was brought to an orphanage far away from home, in Vesuvia. There, he grew up alongside many other children and the caretakers, though he didn't really have friends. Most of the kids were mean and oftentimes bullied him for his shortness. But then a new kid came in, and stepped up to defend him from them. At first, he thought of it to be foolish.

She was even shorter than him. Small frail body, porcelain skin and black hair, and what stood out the most was her differently colored eyes. There must've been something scary about her, because the kids stopped their bullying.

That day, they became each other's first friend, and he learned that her name was Saiya, but warned him not to call her that. She hated her name. Soon, they advanced to best friends. Everything they did, they did together. Mostly mischief.

The caretakers soon realized that most of the kids had no names, and even when they named them, there was a lot of confusion and many unhappy children. So they decided to teach them to read and write when they were old enough, and on their 7th birthday, they'd let them choose a name themselves.

When he was only 5, a third kid entered their little circle. She'd declared that her name was Eris. She had sun-kissed skin, silver white hair and ice blue eyes, and as young as Nehal was, he couldn't help but get a little crush on her. The three of them became very close, almost inseparable.

Once Saiya's birthday rolled around, she changed her name to Morana, and soon enough, his own birthday came too.

And so, Nehal Desai became Syro Beeks.

Around that week, two new kids joined their troublemaking group. Both were a little under two years younger than him, one with ash blond hair and silver eyes, the other with dark skin and jade green eyes.

Syro couldn't have asked for a better family. Years and years passed by in a blur, every day a new day to do more mischief. And as he approached his teen years and 6'3 in height, heartbreaking news came with them.

The adults made it clear that when they'd turn 17, they'd need to search for a home of their own. Him and the others talked about it, each of them wanted to try and find their homeland, their relatives.

And Eris was the first to leave. They were all saddened to see her go, but they knew she had to find her family.

A year later, Morana was next, but he was not about to let her go on her own. They always did everything together, after all. As heartbreaking as it was to leave the other two, Calyx and Libelle, they had to leave.

Their first stop was the Southern Spines, but much to their disappointment, they discovered nothing of her family. Then, they traveled across the land once more and took a ship towards the biggest Pearl Isle of Prakra, where one of the adults had found him.

Although he didn't know the place in the slightest, it was like his heart was calling to him, leading him. A couple of hours later, Syro came face to face with a woman.

Pink hair, indigo eyes and the same skin complexion he had. The same strong nose, plump lips and powerful jaw. Undeniably, they must have been related. But what clicked to him was her height. It's not everyday you meet someone who is almost as tall as you are.

She burst into tears and whispered his name... Probably his birth name, as she hugged him. As awkward as it was for him, the hug felt right.

The woman asked for them to follow her to her home and explain everything. There, Syro found out her name was Neith and that she was his older sister. He didn't quite believe it, until she pulled out a painted picture Banhi had done of them so many years ago, a 9 years old Neith holding her baby brother, who had jet black hair and magenta eyes just like him.

Many more hours passed, and both Morana and Syro decided to spend a few days with Neith. When they left, he promised to visit her when he had the time.

Once again in Vesuvia, he focused on learning to fight. It was something he'd wanted to do ever since he was little, but never found the time for that. Later on, he learnt to incorporate magic into it, becoming a skilled fighter and magician all the same.

When the Red Plague washed over them, he fleed together with Morana, Calyx and Libelle, but the latter two took to their own path, splitting in pairs. Eris refused to leave, for whatever reason.

They were heartbroken to learn that she'd died, and until then, they hadn't realized she was their anchor, their bridge. He remained with Morana, and the other two stayed with each other.

3 years later, he came back to Vesuvia after Libelle contacted him about Eris possibly living. He of course, didn't believe it in the slightest until he saw her alive and well, walking the streets of Vesuvia. But she didn't recognize him.

He met Asra that day too, who explained to him what happened and warned him about the consequences of trying to bring back her memories.

When she was assigned on late Count Lucio's case to catch his murderer, he volunteered to help her with the on-ground investigation, as it could be very dangerous.

That's how he met Julian.

And soon fell in love with him.

Personality: stubborn, flirty, adventurous, reckless, respectful, polite, self-less, aggressive, competitive, destructive, playful, sarcastic, loyal, sincere, open-minded, pessimistic, a little childish and a tease

Interesting facts:

Although he's very fond of any sun-themed objects, he hates heat. He prefers cold weather.

The scars on his arm are from a bear attack that happened while in the Southern Spines, and he also has one in his left palm.

Unlike the others who are mainly right-handed, he's left-handed. It's why he crosses his arms that way.

Never flinches at bitter or sour tastes, nor at strong alcoholic beverages, he actually likes them.

In total, he has 15 piercings. 5 in each ear, 1 on the right side of his nose, 1 in his right eyebrow, 2 in his lower lip and one in his tongue.

His first kiss was Eris. (And vice versa)

He got the sun-moon tattoo on his cheekbone when he was 15.

He has a second tattoo on his chest, of two entwined snakes.

Loves jewelry with a passion, he cannot go a day without at least wearing a ring.

Appearance: Umber skin tone, shoulder-length wavy jet black-blue hair, magenta eyes, inverted triangle body shape with a strong build

Familiar: Cynthia, a kind and sweet rainbow boa

Voice claim: Chace Crawford

Full sprite:

HERE HE IS, EVERYONE'S FAVORITE BUFFY SWEETHEART!!!

I didn't realize just how much more complicated his design would be compared to Eris' until I got down to actually design it.

But boy am I proud!! (ಥ﹏ಥ)

SHOW MY BOY SOME LOVE, PLEASE!!

Edit: I forgot to add his scars.. T-T

#the arcana #the arcana mc #the arcana apprentice #syro beeks

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notchesandbullets · 4 years ago

Text

Ryokuryuu’s Lifeline

Part 4: Midnight Battle Plans

Smoke billowed from Captain Gi-gan's pipe as she stared off into the distance. The lively chatter of her crew faded into the background as her brow furrowed.

This battle was necessary.

But it wouldn't be easy to win, even with the recent additions.

She glanced over to her crew, smiles stretching wide across their faces as they taunted each other about who was going to end up with Yoon as their wife; the said pretty boy whacking them in the back of their heads with a wooden spoon.

"Captain Gi-gan," A delicate voice called, jostling her out of her thoughts. "Here's some food."

The captain turned out and was met with the sight of a certain red-haired princess extending a bowl of the stew Yoon made for her. The captain accepted it with sincere thanks and began to eat. Yona lit up at the sight of Captain Gi-gan enjoying the food, and the sentimental praise Yona expressed for her comrade wasn't lost on the captain.

The older woman conveyed her gratitude to Yona for retrieving the senjusou and the princess beamed at her words.

Captain Gi-gan sighed. "When this fight ends, I'll break up the pirate crew. I want them to return to their normal lives."

The princess stared at the captain in surprise, but her gaze was trained on you and Jae-ha as you both disappeared below deck.

"There's just one," The captain murmured, turned her attention back to Yona, "Who will be a challenge."

Red hair swayed as the princess tilted her head. "A challenge?"

Captain Gi-gan rested her arms against the rail, pipe held loosely in her hand, nodding. "It's Jae-ha. This boat is his home."

"So then when the pirates disband, he's got nowhere to go?" Yona guessed.

The captain chuckled, "You've come to take him, haven't you?" A knowing gleam in her eye.

"...I want to, but he said he didn't want to leave with me." Yona explained after a pause.

"That might have something to do with Y/N," Captain Gi-gan gave her a side glance. "If you convince her to come with you, then Jae-ha would follow."

The princess immediately shook her head. "I don't want to coerce them. If they want to come with me, then I want it so that it's by their own free will."

Yona's expression was filled with confusion as Captain Gi-gan's shoulders started to shake with laughter. Taking a puff of her pipe, she turned her head, exhaling the smoke out to sea. A smirk made its way onto the captain's face and realization dawned on the princess.

She must consider them very close and care about them a lot to test me like that... Yona thought to herself.

I think I understand why though, Her eyes drifted to Yoon, Shin-ah, and Kija until they finally landed on Hak, who had his head thrown back in laughter, eyes shining in amusement as the pirates argued over a flushed pretty boy and a protesting Hakuryuu, with Shin-ah watching the whole ordeal studiously. I would do it for them too...

She recalled your words from your conversation earlier.

"Yona, can you kill someone?"

At the time, she avoided the question. It was so similar to what Hak had asked her before he agreed to teach her archery at the start of her journey.

She didn't want to hurt anyone.

Her father never wanted her to touch a weapon.

He never wanted her to bear the pain that would inevitably come with it.

For them, my comrades, my friends, Yona thought fiercely, I will become strong enough to protect them, too.

Her eyes widened as she found Hak's cobalt eyes staring straight back at her. Yona yelped as she flailed backwards, startled, tripping over a notch in the wood beneath her.

She felt wind rush past her and strong arms snaked around her shoulder, steadying her.

"Easy there, Princess."

Yona flushed a deep red, rivaling the one from earlier when Hak had poured honey on her hands. Her bodyguard peered closely down at her.

Why does she look so red?

Nah, there's no way.

He helped her gather herself to her feet, taking notice of her bandaged hands for the first time. He frowned. He didn't like to see her hurt. It made him feel like killing anyone who dared to touch her.

Years of unrequited love put Hak in a sphere of doubt every time she blushed around him or showed an indication of returning his feelings for her. Yona herself wasn't faring much better.

When was the last time she told him how much he meant to her?

The night her father was murdered was the most heartbreaking, earth-shattering night of her life. The man she thought she loved betrayed her, and stole the throne from her.

Yona's eyes grew wide as it hit her.

Soo-won's betrayal cut her deep, to the very core. He was her cousin, her best friend, that she had known since they were very young. But it wasn't just them, Hak had always been there too, watching over them both from the sidelines even before he became her bodyguard.

How had she not seen it before?

What was Hak going through? How much did he push away his feelings of anger and hurt when Soo-won's betrayal struck him to keep her safe?

Hak was staring down at Yona curiously. She had a faraway look in her eyes that she only got when she was deep in thought. His eyes narrowed as droplets of water started to fall from her eyes.

"Princess?" The tears glistening in her eyes when she met his eyes made him tighten his hold on her, examining her in alarm. "What's wrong?"

Yona sobbed into her hands, her body violently shaking as she was overwhelmed with the flood of emotions.

Anguish.

Regret.

Pain.

Hope.

Love.

They had been through so much together. The numbness that had overtaken her when her father died was only shattered by Hak. He had been there for her, above all else. She couldn't imagine life without him by her side. Yona remembered when he had fallen off the cliff when they were still in Wind Tribe territory searching for the priest when they had been ambushed by Fire Tribe soldiers. She thought he was going to die. Then, he had gone searching for his spear in the middle of the night when he was still hurt and she remembered waking up, feeling panic overcome her all over again. She fled to the forest to look for him, but he had found her first instead. Yona remembered tearfully berating him as she told him that he had to stay by her side.

It was selfish.

She knew she was being selfish.

After all, he gave up his freedom to keep his promise to her father.

At least, that's what she always thought it was.

But Yona's earlier conversation with you echoed in her head. What if it was something deeper than that? Something more than just responsibility to her father? Dare she say, to her?

"Hak, I-"

The amount of concern in his eyes pierced her to the core, causing all the words she wanted to say die on the tip of her tongue.

"Yes, Princess?" He prompted when she failed to speak.

Yona jumped, "I-I-I," She stuttered.

Hak brought her closer to him, studying her intensely and Yona blushed at his proximity.

"Princess..." He whispered into her hair and she squeezed her eyes shut.

His voice, when had it started to sound so alluring?

He moved too pull away, but Yona caught his sleeve, gripping it tightly. Hak choked, staring at the princess whose eyes were covered by her hair.

She needed to ask him about these feelings.

She needed to tell him how she felt.

She needed to know if he could ever return it.

"Hak...I-"

Yona was cut off as Shin-ah's soft voice reached her ears.

"Boats...Boats have gathered at the harbor."

That caught the attention of Captain Gi-gan as she looked at the blue dragon in alarm. "How many?" She asked quickly.

"7..." Shin-ah responded quietly, still gazing out into the distance.

Yona covered her mouth with her hand in shock, "7 boats?!"

But Shin-ah wasn't done. "People with weapons are on board."

Captain Gi-gan's lips pulled back in a snarl. "That damn Kum-ji! Does he plan on intimidating us?" She tapped her pipe against her shoulder. "Gather the brats." She ordered.

As the crew made their way below deck with the captain in the lead, she suddenly remembered that you and Jae-ha were most likely asleep. Captain Gi-gan sighed, rubbing her temples.

This couldn't wait.

"Yona," She called out from over her shoulder, successfully gaining the princess and her bodyguard's attention. "Could you wake Y/N and Jae-ha for me?"

The princess smiled, nodding happily at the task. Captain Gi-gan chuckled at her excitement over something so trivial, but then again, Yona did seem to take pride in the things she was able to accomplish. For a princess who once knew nothing, she was turning into a formidable force to those who threatened her.

"Do you know where their quarters are?" Hak questioned the bouncing princess beside him.

She hummed, "I think I remember." Squinting her eyes as she tried to recall the path you led her on before reaching your room.

"You think?" Her bodyguard teased.

Yona puffed out her cheeks. "Hak~" She whined childishly before darting down below the deck.

He blinked in surprise as a memory popped up into his mind of her. Young and immature, worrying over unimportant things like her hair and clothes back when things were much easier.

She was so innocent back then.

Hak turned to Kija and Shin-ah before he got too caught up in his memories. Yoon had gotten swept up with the other pirates who had trailed behind the captain a few minutes ago.

"We'll meet you there."

"Alright." Kija acknowledged, and Shin-ah dipped his head, then the two dragons headed off to go find the captain.

It didn't take him long to find the princess. She was wandering blindly from door to door, hesitating. The hallways were lit up with a warm glow from the torches placed by the doors.

"You really don't remember which one it is, do you?" Hak smirked.

"Stop teasing me!" Yona demanded, the pout forming on her lips caused his heart to stutter.

Why is she so darn cute...

"Ah! I think it's this one!" Hak almost crashed into her as Yona suddenly stopped in front of the last door.

"Are you sure you're not just picking it because we passed all the other ones?" He teased her.

She brought up her fists defiantly, scowling, "I am not!"

"Yeah, yeah, sure Princess." He waved her off.

Despite the dynamic of their usual teasing, Yona could help but smile instead of yell at him. She had seen you and Jae-ha tease each other, and she was starting to see it as affectionate rather than just irritating.

Hak stared at her suspiciously when Yona didn't shoot back a witty remark. He stepped closer to her, pressing her up against the door and as his tall frame leaned over her. Yona brought her hands up to clutch the front of his robes, not drawing him closer but not pushing him away either, refusing to look at his face as hers turned a familiar shade of red.

"Really... Just how much are you going to push me..." Yona opened her mouth in protest, but he came closer to her, pressing his body against hers. She was reminded of how he had done this before, when they were in the woods after Yoon had healed them and he had gone to fetch his spear.

What if he wasn't checking for her temperature for a fever that time?

What if...

He had meant to kiss her?

But Hak just knocked against the door above her, and her eyes shot open as her heart filled with disappointment.

Why did it hurt when he pulled away?

Yona finally acknowledged the answer.

The truth.

She wanted him to kiss her.

A sleepy Jae-ha answered the door, and Hak blinked, peering around the green dragon who was running a hand through his hair, to see your form nestled in the bed, an adorable frown on your features. Yona turned around to face him.

Gosh she felt shorter than usual with the both of them towering over her.

"Captain Gi-gan needs you two in her quarters. Shin-ah's spotted ships."

Jae-ha's eyes widened, all trace of exhaustion gone as he shifted back into ruthless pirate mode. "Got it, we'll be right there." He nodded tersely.

He flashed Yona a charming smile, recognizing her nervousness. "Don't worry, Yona dear, it'll all be alright." He said flirtatiously.

Yona felt Hak's chest vibrate as he let out a low growl, wrapping an arm around her shoulders protectively and she stumbled into his chest. Jae-ha smirked at the Thunder Beast's possessiveness.

"Just get Y/N up," Hak snapped curtly, "You're already late."

The green dragon held his hands up in surrender, a smug smirk on his face. He shot Yona a wink as Hak pulled her away from the troublesome dragon.

Jae-ha closed the door, but didn't shut it all the way, knowing that you didn't like light blinding you when you first woke up. He crouched beside the bed, eye-level with you. Your eyes were shut, breathing even. His eyes softened, he really didn't want to wake you up, but this took precedence and he didn't want anyone to see you sleeping, knowing you felt uncomfortable with that.

He shook your shoulder gently, trying to rouse you from your slumber. Your brow furrowed, sleepily batting away his hand. Jae-ha couldn't help it as the corners of his mouth pulled back in an adoring smile.

Cute...

He got up, leaning over to whisper in your ear, "Y/N," With his coaxing, you opened your eyes slowly. "Captain Gi-gan needs us. There's been a development."

You scrambled up to a sitting position, terrified eyes scanning for any signs of a threat and Jae-ha hushed you, pressing two fingers to your wrist quickly.

"Not like that," He apologized, nosing your hair as you relaxed slightly. "Apparently Shin-ah's spotted some ships."

You nodded, raising your arms up at him and gazing at him with puppy dog eyes. He laughed, the sound sending warmth flooding all over your body, and he obliged; picking you up easily, with an arm hooking under your knees and the other supporting your back. Your hands immediately wound around his neck, tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

Jae-ha tried to calm his racing heart as your breath hit his skin, lighting it on fire. He still wasn't used to it, but he certainly wasn't complaining. Soft, ambient lights lit up the hallway as he carried you to the opposite end of the ship, where Captain Gi-gan and the others most likely were.

Nudging the door open with his shoulder, both of your eyes flew wide open. The room was crowded, and everyone was looking at you. The pirates were scattered around the room, with Yona and her dragons plus Yoon taking up almost all of one side.

"You're late." The captain smirked, gaze regretful as she looked at you, but you smiled back reassuringly. She knew how hard of a time you had trying to fall asleep, but she wouldn't have called for you unless absolutely necessary.

Everyone turned their attention back to Captain Gi-gan as she began to speak. "Kum-ji is probably planning to go through with a large-scale trafficking deal soon." Jae-ha pushed through the crowd, making his way to an open spot on the floor beside Yona and the others. He sat down carefully, arranging you comfortably in his lap.

If you weren't so tired, you probably would have blushed.

"If shots are fired at the harbor, the people living in the area will end up getting hurt, so we will attack Kum-ji's boat instead." Captain Gi-gan stated.

Jae-ha held you tighter as he felt you tremble against him at the mention of the bastard's name. His heart thumped against his rib cage, soothing you as you pressed an ear against his chest, closing your eyes to block out everything else.

"The problem is, we don't know when it'll be carried out, and we don't know which boat the girls will be on." Jae-ha interjected, voice low, but clear enough to reach everyone in the room.

"That's right," Captain Gi-gan agreed, "Kum-ji will have people at the dealing that can be used as hostages. If we recklessly attack the boats, the people being sold will get mixed up in the fight."

She tapped a finger to her chin in contemplation. "On the other hand, the girls will be taken to the Kai Empire if we stand by and do nothing."

"Is there another way to ensure the safety of those women?" The captain addressed the crowd around her, opening up the floor to ideas.

One of the pirates pointed out that because it's such an important deal, there was a high chance of Kum-ji being there, and with their new allies, things should go much smoother than they were originally expecting. Jae-ha mindlessly ran a hand through your hair as he listened to the clamor. Your grip on the front of his robes tightened, and he dropped a soft kiss on top of your head.

"...We still need a little more information." The captain's determined voice rose above everyone else's. "We will restore freedom to this town."

The sound of steel splintering wood rang clear across the room as Captain Gi-gan stabbed the table with a dagger, eyes burning with resolve. "This time, I too will take up my blades. Follow me until the very end you brats!"

Jae-ha didn't notice the worried look exchanged between the girl in his arms and a particular red-haired princess.

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squishy831 · 4 years ago

Text

Anything to see you smile

Ship: Pernico/Perico/Nicercy

Warnings: Angst, Major Character Death

Extra Information: Nico and Will are not dating... yet, Bianca didn’t choose rebirth, she was hidden by Hades because he knew that Hazel was supposed to be the one who was brought back to life, and Nico only tells Percy that he’s gay and doesn’t reveal his crush on him.

Percy was gay. Not a lot of people knew that. And he liked the one and only Nico di Angelo. He was so happy when he found that Nico was gay, he felt like he was flying, but then, of course, Zeus still did not like his presence in the air, so he fell and burned when Nico walked to Will Solace. Percy felt his heartbreak and shatter into pieces.

Nico still hated Percy. Or that's what Percy assumed.

He had to fix this! He didn't care what it took, he just wanted to make Nico happy.

Percy knew how to fix this. All he needed was Annabeth.

Percy walked to the dining pavilion where Annabeth was waiting for him.

'Hey Seaweed Brain!" she said when she saw him. He returned with a small smile.

"Annabeth, we need to talk" he started seriously.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Can we go somewhere else?" He asked noticing the people.

Annabeth looked confused and nodded.

They both walked to the beach and sat down on the warm sand.

The sea was calm and beautiful, Apollo was slowly riding his sun chariot back to his palace, and the moon was slowly making it's way up.

"What is it?" Annabeth asked again.

"I... I..." Percy took a deep breath "I am gay" he finally blurted.

Annabeth blinked at him. Once. Twice. Thrice. Then she smiled.

"Okay... next?" she asked.

"You're not mad?" I asked.

"Why would I be? I mean well, I am a lesbian, I realized it after I met Reyna" she replied, her cheeks tinted pink.

"Do you like someone?" She asked.

"I like Nico" I replied.

"Aww! I ship you two!" she replied.

I gave a small smile.

"Well, what's your plan to make him fall in love with you?" she asked.

"I don't want to make him fall in love with me" I replied.

"What? Then what do you want to do? Just stay in the sidelines and watch as Will start dating?" she asks confused.

"I want to make him happy"

"yeah... and how exactly do you plan on doing if you not going to ask him out?"

"I..." I mumbled the rest.

"If you want me to help you, then you better speak louder Seaweed Brain"

I took a deep breath and explained to her my plan.

"WHAT?! NO WAY I'M HELPING YOU DO THAT!"

"Annabeth the-" "NO! I WILL NOT LET YOU DO THAT!"

"Annabeth listen!"

"WHAT?!"

"I... it's the only thing that I can d-"

"No! You can do other things, like spend time with him! get to know him!"

"Annabeth..."

"No! Percy, you can't do this! To yourself! To me! To everyone at camp! To your MOM?!"

"Mom and Paul died, I got the news yesterday morning" I muttered.

"What?" Annabeth whispered.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked.

"I... I was having a hard time-" I chocked a sob "I was a hard time myself to accept it"

"Oh, Percy," Annabeth said hugging me.

"But you can't do this, right? Your mom wouldn't want you to do this, right?" She tried to explain.

But I already had made my mind.

"I am trying to make someone else happy, You find someone else, maybe Reyna and Camp has Jason, he is an amazing leader, and maybe, maybe Nico will finally forgive me," I said.

"Percy... please... don't do this"

"I'm sorry Wise Girl"

Tears rolled down Annabeth's cheeks, "When-" she let out a sob, "When do you leave?" she asked.

"Tomorrow" I muttered.

Annabeth looked away from me and cried. I didn't try and comfort her.

"Percy... Please... Think about it, one last time, if this is the right thing to do" She said.

"I'm sorry Annabeth, I already made up my mind," I said.

More tears rolled down her cheek.

She pulled me into a bone-crushing hug and sobbed into my shirt. I hugged her back, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" I repeated to her.

And the night carried on.

The next morning, Annabeth woke up in her cabin, hoping yesterday night was a bad dream.

She ran to the Poseidon cabin and forced the door open.

She was greeted by an empty cabin.

She examined the empty cabin, trying to find one clue that Percy didn't do what he said he would do.

She stops looking around the cabin when she finds a letter on Percy's bed, holding it down was... Riptide?

'He vapor traveled' Annabeth noted.

Tears were streaming down her face as she slowly walked towards the letter, and picked it up.

She read through the letter, tears streamed down her face.

He was gone.

Her best friend was gone.

"Annabeth? You okay?" A voice asked from the door.

Annabeth looked to see who it was. Piper was standing there with a worried look on her face, "Why are crying?!" She asked.

"I... Percy..." Annabeth started crying and handed the letter to Piper

Before Piper can read the letter, the rest of the seven and Nico had gathered around them.

"What's going on?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, where's Percy?" Hazel asked.

Piper's gaze turned back to the letter,

“Dear Everyone," Piper read aloud for so the rest can hear.

"I don't know how to say this, so I'll just tell it straight to your face. I am gay, I found out a little later after I met Nico Di Angelo, yes, I am admitting that I have a tiny... okay huge crush on him" Jason's eyes widened, and Nico looked shocked.

"I couldn't bear to see him mad at me, always avoiding me. It broke my heart. But I deserved it, it should've been me, I'm sorry Nico. But it's fine, I am now on one last quest where I am going to make it right"

"What?!" Nico shouted.

"Nonononononono," he muttered and fell to the ground. He closed his ears with his hands and cried.

"What's going on?" Frank asked.

"Is Percy leaving camp?" Hazel asked, not being able to accept the other option.

Annabeth slowly shook her head and cried more.

"I have to... I have to save him" Nico muttered getting up.

"Where are you going?!" Jason shouted. Nico still wasn't strong enough for too much shadow traveling.

"I have to, please, I have to" Nico cried a little more before disappearing into shadows.

Part 2 coming soon

#perico #nicercy #pernico #oneshots #angst #percy jackson #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #percy brings bianca back to life #hades #underworldy magic #future solangelo #two-sided crush perico #percy has a crush on nico #nico had a crush on percy #percy dies in the end lol

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avaria-revallier · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 9 - The truth

Masterpost

AO3

“Master Bofur,” she turned around in surprise.

The dwarf with the funny hat was leaning against the railing of the balcony. He stood in the shadows, only the gleaming of his pipe let her make out his position. The sweet scent of the pipeweed tickled her nostrils and slightly burned in her eyes.

Stepping out into the dark of the night, a welcoming cold made her shiver. Now that the lights of the hallway no longer blinded her she could see Bofur quite clear. Underneath his hat he never seemed to be without, she could spot the familiar smile on his lips. Knowing, a bit sad, but always ready to cheer her up.

His twin braids bounced as he stood up and stepped into the light. In his other hand she could spot a bottle of wine. Most likely it had been out of Lord Elrond's cellars, a present from Thranduil. Not that it mattered, the King of the Woodland Realm had more than enough in his own cellars. A shudder ran down her spine as she remembered the cold prison, the endless wandering through the halls and the continuous calling of the ring on her finger.

“Here,” he took off his cloak, hanging it over her shoulders and draping it in a motherly gesture around her.

The warmth of the large cloak was reassuring. Thorin's harsh words echoed through her mind. He said them in anger, but they still hurt like a knife to her heart. Bella had endured his cold glances and comments on her every move. She was used to them by now. Still, there had been this tiny bit of hope it might be different this time.

Her hands clutched the soft cloak, pulling it closer around her. Bofur had always been there for her. Looking out and after her. When she had dangled from the cliff he had been the first to search. When she was lost in the woods, he had been the first to notice.

Bella turned around, her gaze meeting his eyes. Yes, she could trust Bofur. She could tell him and he surely wouldn’t deem her mad. Taking a deep breath, she relaxed a bit.

“When Dwalin knocked on my door, I had the feeling as if I had woken up from a very long dream,” her gaze trailed off into the starry night sky, “I had dreamed of an adventure. I would leave my trusted home to run off into the blue. I would go onto a journey together with thirteen dwarrows and a wizard, to face a dragon. One of them would hold on to a map and a key, granting them access to a secret passageway into the mountain. On our way we would meet the elves, stumble into a fight between giants and escape from goblins. We would ride eagels and befriend a giant bear, run from long forgotten enemies only to lose our way temporarily. We would break out of a prison, to nearly drown. And finally… we would face the dragon,” she paused, turning around to look in his eyes.

After listening to her words Bofur eyed her carefully. There was something in the way she looked at him, something in the depth of her eyes he couldn’t identify. Her gaze wandered from his eyes to the floor and up to the stars again.

From his position it looked like there had been a veil surrounding her, which now was removed. Right now in this moment he could see the true her. Too curious about what she would tell him next, he didn’t dare to move nor ask all the questions that were burning on his tongue. Bofur only took another sip from his drink, waiting for her to continue.

“The dragon died… Erebor was reclaimed, but the worst was still to come,” her voice broke.

He could see her hands clenched around the railing, trembling. Suddenly the air felt cooler, the wind harsher and in the distance he could hear cries, and smell iron and wet earth. Her small silhouette looked bigger, stronger. She had the air of a steeled warrior around her, the aura of pain, loss and heartbreak.

Bofur swallowed, it felt as if there was a completely different person standing in front of him. This didn’t feel like the gentle hobbit lass he had traveled with. He realized that they knew nothing about her. Nothing about her past, nor her family or the reason why she joined them on their journey.

“The battle… I had never seen something like that before. So much death… Blood everywhere. I still have nightmares. Every night. I see them lying before me. Beaten, bloodied… dead. I was too late, we all came too late. I lost my friends, my family, my… love. I saw them die before my eyes, unable to stop it. If I just would have been a bit stronger, a bit faster!” her fist slammed down onto the cold stone, which made Bofur nearly jump, “I hear them cry, beg, accuse me every damn night,” again and again her hand slammed into the stone.

Her whole body started to tremble and he could hear the muffled sound of sobbs. She was crying, bitterly. Honestly. His hand was just about to touch her shoulder when she abruptly straightened herself. Her eyes fixed onto a point in the distance.

“I thought for a long time I might have lost my mind. I lost my mind and nobody would believe me. I apologise, it must be quite confusing for you. But this life is different. I will be fine even if I lose my mind. For them… for him, I don’t mind,” her voice trailed off, only leaving the grave-like silence of the night.

It took Bofur a moment to take in all the new information he had acquired. Wait… ‘love’? ‘for him’? He took a step closer. His back leaned against the railing, tapping out the pipe. The cheerful grin had vanished from his face. From his position he could see her face clearer. The full moon came forth between the clouds, illuminating her features and filling her eyes with a ghost-like silver shine.

“I believe you. This story is too crazy to be made up… Answer me just one question… who?” his eyes locked onto her, waiting for a response.

“He kissed me,” her voice broke as she gently brushed over her lower lip, “with his last breath he called me something. Even now I do not know the meaning of it. Out of fear, I guess. I don’t want it to hurt all the more,” a single tear ran down her cheek.

Bofur's stomach tied itself into a tight knot while his heart felt as if a giant, ice-cold hand was clenching it tightly. He bit his tongue so as not to ask the question burning like hot coals on his tongue.

“I tried!” she cried out, scaring two birds out of the trees, “I went to the far east, all the way up north and then down south. I climbed so many mountains and traveled the skies. I’ve been among the clouds. I tried it all, but I can’t get him out of my mind. I am not able to forget him because he is my home,” her voice broke again, turning into a suffocated sob.

Bofur did the only thing he could think of and pulled her into a tight hug. She was shaking like a scared rabbit facing a wolf. How had she been able to endure this madness all by herself? Without a second thought he brushed over her hair and back, trying to calm her down. Something wet hit his shirt and through all the sobbing and fabric he nearly overheard her words.

“He is so stubborn… always had been,” well, that applied to all dwarrows he knew of.

Dwalin? No, otherwise she wouldn’t have accepted him as her brother. Bombur had a wife and Bifur would have told him surely. Kili or Fili? Too young to worry about such things. Thorin? No. Thorin was, well, Thorin. His thoughts were interrupted by another wave of sobs.

“I-I love him. I do. I should have told him that. Even now I search for reasons to stay near him, to be close, because I need him. I don’t want to lose him again. I wouldn’t be able to survive that. I just... can’t,” he rubbed her back in circles as he had done so many times before with his family as they mourned the fallen.

“He was… He… He called me ‘amrâlimê’… Before he kissed me… Before he…” died, finished Bofur her sentence as her voice trailed off once more.

Bofur froze in his very motion. Did he hear correctly? Amrâlimê? Surely he had misheard. She shifted in his arms, stiffening. As she straightened herself his coat slipped off her shoulders. The sobbing had subsided and nothing but the faint red shadow around her eyes indicated that she had been crying.

“Stupid stubborn ass of a king,” he heard Bella mutter while staring up to the stars, “I made up my mind. I will no longer live in the past, because I can change the future.”

“Thorin?! You mean like in our Thorin?!” Bofur gaped at her, dropping his pipe, “Wait, wait, wait… this is… Thorin? Really?”

Fili and Kili had entered the grand hall some time earlier, proudly boasting about having gained a sister. They had whispered with Balin, stealing glances at Thorin. The king could have guessed what all of that was about. His guess was proven as Balin came over to him, a meaningful look in his eyes and a determined expression on his face.

“You have to talk to her, Thorin. She is essential to our quest. And all of us can see how you look at her, the glances you give her when you think nobody is looking, how you care for her wellbeing. Taking breaks when she tires, slipping parts of your rations into her pack and making sure she is safe when the path gets rough. I am advising you as a friend. You ought to do the right thing. Apologise. You know as well your words were too harsh. Best you don’t let my brother hear about this, or you may get more than just an earful,” Balin spoke in a stern voice.

The older dwarf patted Thorin on the shoulder before he left to join his brother. Thorin watched his company, his friends, merrily playing with the food, singing and enjoying themselves. Was Balin right? He did care for her and caught himself red-handed more often as time had gone by, watching the gentle creature. He made sure she slept near the fire and that she was never too far from him or Dwalin. He worried constantly when she rode alone in the back or disappeared in the evenings. He gritted his teeth when he saw the hobbit lass hugging Dwalin or sleeping nestled in the other dwarves’ arms.

Bofur had just slipped back inside as Balin had finished his lecture. Immediately the mood got a bit lighter. It might have been his cheerful personality, but more likely the message he brought with him.

“Aye, our lady is all better and hungry like a little pebble!”

Thorin relaxed and exhaled the breath he had held in. He raised his head as two familiar, furry boots stopped right in front of him. The dwarf owning the shoes wore a completely unusual expression on his face. Was that grief and deep-rooted pain he spotted behind his brown beard?

“You better not ruin it again. She had been through more than enough already. Most of which was your fault!” Bofur grumbled, right before turning around and squeezing himself between Bombur and Oin.

Thorin had no time to answer, nor to fully process what was going on. Suddenly the room went silent. The dwarrows turned their heads, just like they had done when Bofur entered. Gandalf and Lord Elrond interrupted their conversation to watch the hobbit lass enter.

She was wearing a plain white dress, the curly hair openly flowing over her back. Mahal, she was beautiful. How come she could converse with the other dwarrows so naturally? How come she could smile so easily with them? How was she able to converse with those bloody elves?!

He wasn’t staring, was he? Hastily he looked away, but his gaze would always be drawn right back to her. Thorin noticed the red puffiness around her eyes, the faint biting marks on her lower lip and the slight tremble of her fingers whenever she gestured or pointed something out. She didn’t eat as much as she would need to.

Wait, was she coming over? After all he had said, how could she still come over so casually? He had obviously hurt her very much, he had no right to talk to her, no right to see her.

Once again he caught himself staring. He lowered his head, inspecting the tips of his shoes with way too much interest. Two furry large feet stopped right in front of him. The room went quiet, if it was due to Bofur jumping on the table or being close to the burglar, he did not know.

“May I have this dance?” the soft voice of his burglar brought him back.

Like an idiot he stared at her extended hand. Such a small palm, slender fingers and soft skin. How could he have brought this gentle creature on their quest? Now her skin was bruised and split open where the hilt of the sword had dug deep into her flesh. He had no right to ruin her life. Bofur was right. So why, why couldn’t he say no to those eyes?!

“My pleasure,” he grumbled into his beard, she probably wouldn’t have understood it.

To his surprise she giggled, grabbed his hand with much more strength than he would have ever thought she could possess and dragged him into the center of the room.

Bella placed her hands in the rough palms of the dwarven king, a warm tingly feeling rushing through her body. This was like a dream coming true. It had been so long since she had danced, danced with her love and a heart lighter than a feather.

Bofur's song cleared her head and filled her with joy. She lifted her head and their eyes met. It felt just like back then, but this time his hands were warm, no blood wetted the ground and she wasn’t losing him.

“I love you, Thorin Oakenshield, always have and always will. When you left me I never thought I might get another chance to ever see you again, but here we are. Together once more. When you entered my home for the second time now, I considered just not letting you leave. But for that to happen I most likely would have needed to break your legs. I also thought about letting you leave on this cursed mission of yours, but the uncertainty of what might have happened to you would have brought me to the grave. So I came along. And I would have followed you a thousand times more. I can’t stand a world without you any longer, I experienced it once, that was more than enough,” she looked him in the eyes, the words withering on her tongue like a whispered cry for help, and pressed her lips tightly together, swallowing the truth and with that her feelings.

Not a single word left her mouth.

His face was straight, unmoved by the dance, by the music… by her. Only in his eyes she could spot the hint of something familiar. For a moment there he looked just like ‘her’ Thorin. But he wasn’t ‘him’.

“I-” he averted his gaze from her eyes, “I should apologize for my rude outburst earlier, I-” she interrupted him by letting go of his hands and stopping their aimless spinning through the room. She opened her mouth as if to say something and nearly set free the words she had held back earlier. Instead she raised her hand, telling him to wait.

“I missed this, I missed you. And no matter what you say I will follow you. I will not let you die again,” she spoke, staring in his deep blue eyes, her vision slightly blurred from another wave of tears, but a smile let her glow from the inside out.

This would have to be enough for the moment. Yes, this was fine. Being able to stand by his side was enough for now.

Thorin flinched at her honest statement, the meaning of her words still hadn’t reached him fully. She missed him? How could she have missed him? He had never met her before that day he had knocked on her door, before he had dragged this gentle creature out of her home and her peaceful life.

For a moment his mind wandered back to the second he first laid eyes on the small hobbit lass. So soft and weak, yet headstrong and fiercer than a cornered dragon. Beautiful. So beautiful he couldn’t help but to stare. He had been rude and mean even though she had shared her home and food with them.

Even now he could only stare at her, stare at this wonderful creature Mahal had let him meet. He wanted to say something, ask her what she meant. Ask her why she would miss him, why she was able to make him question all his decisions, even himself. Ask his hobbit how she was able to give him the feeling of home, of peace.

“I am still a bit drowsy and the wounds keep acting up, so I should probably retire early today,” she said apologetically.

Both of them knew it was not true. She moved too fluently, too gracefully in the king's eyes for her injuries to still hinder her. She bit her lip again, like she did more often these days, forcing herself to smile at him, hoping her face looked reassuring and calm and not like the painful grimace it felt like.

His hand twitched. He needed all his willpower not to just grab her and trace the bite marks on her lower lip with his thumb until they disappeared. A thousand promises and ideas rushed through his mind, which he could whisper into her ears to make her forget the sadness, the pain, his own idiotic behaviour. He just wanted to see her smile again.

“Bel… Bella-”

“Good night, master Oakenshield.”

She didn’t even call him by his name. This fact felt like one of Dwalin’s punches right in the stomach. Why did she not call him like she had when they had first met and when the trolls had attacked them. Thorin would never admit it to himself, but it felt right when she called him by his name, he felt at peace.

Only now the whole meaning of the words she had spoken earlier reached him. That last sentence she had whispered, what was the meaning of her words? Not letting him die… ‘again’?! Something was not right. Before he could even try following her, a large muscular figure stepped into his way.

“What did you say to my sister? She left so fast I wasn’t even able to speak to her.”

His best friend towered over him. With a short nod towards the king's nephews, Dwalin managed to send them after the hobbit. Thorin worried about her wellbeing more than he would like to admit, she hadn’t eaten nearly enough. Maybe it would be better to follow her, after all. Sure, his nephews would look after their new sister like Dori watched over Ori, still… there was this uneasiness inside him, whenever Bella was out of sight.

“Tell me the truth, Thorin. Do you like her?”

Masterpost

AO3

@stuckupstucky @shrimpsthings

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nabrizoya · 4 years ago

Text

This was the original reply/draft to prompt sent by @zvko way back in may (ily bro). this draft didn’t seem to suit well for the prompt, i thought. now though, i’ll let you decide. partly-edited. or just plain unedited lol.

54: One reaching for the others hand to comfort them, to provide support. A thumb brushing lightly against skin. + Jesse and Lucie.

Lucie was aware of the Tower bell chiming at midnight as she stared steadfastly at the barren windowsill. She preened her ears to hear the ghost of his laughter, all to no avail. The night looked unfazed by the atrocities her mind imposed on her. She sighed, restless and wide awake in her bed, and continued to stare at the ceiling.

She missed him. She craned her neck to the windowsill yet again and closed her eyes, thinking about the nights they had spent awake, talking and laughing until dawn drew them apart. She remembered the games of chess they played, the way he gestured for the pieces for her to move and would win. She reminisced the nights they had spent outside, in the rain and fog and snow, venturing on midnight voyages. And her stealthy pursuits for books on necromancy right under his nose and getting away with her plans? Successful.

She missed him. Terribly.

It had only been a few weeks that they had been apart. Jesse was back to life, still sick and weak and mentally worse than he was before. She didn’t have to see him to know how his nightmares plagued him- they haunted her too. They were fantastical in their graphics, elaborate and daunting. She could project her torment into her writings, her own sense of twisted terror and trepidation. She wondered what Poe’s thoughts would be if he ever read her works; would he be just as fascinated, terrorized and amazed as she was when she read his works?

Lucie couldn’t bear it any longer. She pushed the duvet off her and sat up. The windows were empty of his presence and the clouds behind them carried their gossips, barely sparing a glance at her as she changed into her gear. She fastened a rope and a grappling hook around her waist and drew the cloak around her. Then marched noiselessly into the night towards Gideon Lightwood’s house.

Once she reached the premises, she observed the windows were barely lit and darkness spilled through most of them. Lucie wondered which of them led to Jesse’s room. She was conscious of the panic that began to bubble within her. Jesse wasn’t a ghost anymore; he was human and breathing. She could not risk being found, especially not after what had happened to Eugenia and how Daisy had handled hers. She wasn’t panicking at getting caught; she couldn’t fathom what excuse she could provide for her unannounced arrival.

Jesse was sent to Basilias for three weeks following the utter destruction that Belial had ensued. Lucie had heard, er, eavesdropped on her parents and collected that Jesse Blackthorn was back in London only that evening and that Gideon had proposed to take him under his care for the while.

And there she was, under the window from which the barest of candlelight was spilling through, hoping it was Jesse’s room. She threw the hook and fixed it around the metal that held the pipelines in place and climbed. And to her utter horror, in the littlest of light, she could see the figures of two people entwined in a rather intimate embrace, their faces barely visible.

Lucie was never the best to reciprocate shock; her hands let go of the rope of their own accord, and she gasped as she fell backwards. She held onto the rope as quickly as she let go, but chafed her palms throughout her futile attempt at a safe landing. She tumbled to the ground with a thump and bit down her lip to prevent the scream that was beginning to erupt.

She whimpered as she sat up and looked at her hands, scratched and slightly bloodied. She tried to fish for her stele but could hear the sound of window panes opening. Lucie struggled to free the hook and it came off in an instant, much to her surprise. She covered herself just as Thomas’ voice floated with confusion in the air. “’Think that was a burglar?”

“No,” the other voice said. “I should think not.” Lucie smiled despite the raging pain in her limbs. She could see Alastair help Thomas secure the window and disappear behind them. The iratze was quick to draw; the pain vanished as swiftly as it had come, her hands looking as good as they ever were. She looked at the windows in desperation, her momentary sense of joy now gone. Where was Jesse Blackthorn?

She critically examined the windows. Jesse liked keeping his windows open; his room in Chiswick -when she had spied for necromantic books, a perfectly reasonable adventure- had revealed as much. There used to be plants around the sill and the room usually overlooked a scenic sight ‘ten times worth the painter’s imagination’, as Jesse had once claimed. She trudged through the backyard towards the other end of the house and looked for the one set of windows that would set her heart in a frenzy.

Lo and behold, there it was: two sets of them open as curtains balled close by one set of windows. She watched the cherry blossom sway its flowers to sleep, the wind mumbling a mellow lullaby to it. Her heart lurched; she was so close to him. She drew another rune of stealth at her throat and fastened the hook. She climbed up the rope nervously.

When she reached the window, she tapped at the pane and fixed her foot on the metal around the pipe. Jesse was next to the window in no time. It was a blurry few moments until he reeled back in shock and then come to his senses. Jesse guided her in gently, though Lucie knew better; the moment was gone before she knew, replaced by Jesse’s anger. With Jesse promptly reprimanding her for her impetuousness.

“You can’t possibly be here-” he thundered. But Lucie paid him no heed. She was smiling, her attention wholly captured by the beauty of him. He looked healthier than he was when he had left London. His face was less pale, though there were shadows under his eyes. He wasn’t as thin; there was flesh to him when she touched his shoulder in a daze. His words ceased when she held his scarred hand, in awe with the utter humanness of him. He didn’t look strong, not as strong in the sense of shadowhunters, but at least as strong as any human could be. He had been sick for his entire life, and then dead, but he was better in just three weeks and he would be better even more. Lucie was proud of him.

She stepped back, still lost and removed her hand from his. But he reached forward and held hers, tightening both his hands around hers and holding them close to his heart. “You could be ruined, Lucie. Why are you here?” he asked her softly.

She shook her head. “You look all right,” she said. “But I know you are not.”

He dropped his gaze to the floor just as he let her palm loose. Lucie only stepped closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck comfortingly. She hugged him tight and heard his heart hammer, feeling the joy of his life tear at her heart. Jesse froze for a moment before he wrapped her in his embrace, burying his head in the nook of her shoulder. She stroked his hair, knowing the glint of sadness in his eyes very well. “I’ve missed you, Jesse,” she mumbled. “How are you?”

Jesse said nothing. They stayed in the embrace for Angel knows how long. Neither of them dreamed of pulling away. The breeze from his open windows swayed them in their song, whistling through the curtains and swooshing them out and away. The two of them were knit into one another, their embraces tight and safe and reassuring. As slow as the night, Lucie’s shoulder grew wet with Jesse’s tears, his shoulders shaking with the pent up agony and pain he bore voicelessly for so long. Lucie felt the overwhelming need to shut the windows and keep him close, cut him away and protect him from every thorn that would dare to come closer. His knees buckled away and he pulled her to the ground; Lucie didn’t mind the pain. She held him in silence, and when his sobs grew louder, she murmured gentle reassurances to him. She held him for hours, suddenly remembering the time Cordelia had held her for hours, preventing her from falling off the cliff. The urge to protect someone so fiercely could never be cultivated. It just came without a question and you protected them without a doubt. She patted his back, the young traces of his muscles reassuring her about his onward health. She cursed the universe for damning him for the sins of his parents.

At some point, she found herself murmuring a lullaby into his hair. Her eyes were thick with tears she hadn't shed when she’d heard that Jesse was gone without a goodbye. Four weeks, the first one having been taken away for questioning by the Clave and the rest at his stay in Alicante. She blubbered, her own sobs mixing with his as she thought of all the people she had lost, of the sacrifices Jesse had made and the pain he had endured. She cried of her mother’s and her brother’s agony when they were tortured by Belial. Of the people who had died and the chaos that each one of her friends had borne, of heartbreak and crumpled wishes. Jesse swayed her this time, letting her cry and complain on his shoulder.

The two of them were a mess. But they were there for each other.

When their sobs stopped, they still held one another. Lucie clutched at him for dear life and Jesse caressed her now unbound hair. “Don’t leave,” she mumbled as she pulled back, wiping the tears on his cheekbones. She sat up on her knees, pulling him closer, and pressed her lips to his burning forehead. Jesse tightened his arms around her waist and held her tight. “You are all right. And you will be all right,” she whispered and drew back, staring down into his eyes that were so open and vulnerable. Jesse reached for her hand in his and linked their fingers together, his fingers caressing the scars on her hand. Their gazes never left one another’s. They stared and stared until the moon shied away from the fierceness in their eyes. Their promise on the light with which they loved each other.

“I won’t,” Jesse promised. He kissed the back of her hand.

Yeah, um. Dunno why the world had to read this, but this was The (TM) first ever time I wrote after a really long time. Kinda like how this one turned out, the direction it took, though er, the writing...; thanks for reading, either way!

#meh #good idea or not?#idek lol #jesse blackthorn #lucie herondale #the last hours #tlh #mine*

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skullrock · 4 years ago

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the partners, chapter eight - Steve x Reader

chapter eight - what difference does it make?

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: A blow-out with Steve leads to confessions, despite getting your ass kicked.

warnings: swearing, violence, mentions of blood, punching, etc!

word count: 3.3k

a/n: here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. this is THE CHAPTER, folks. hope you enjoy!

===

Steve realizes two things at once.

1. He’s really pissed at you.

2. He’s in love with you.

He lets himself focus on the “in love with you” revelation for a split second and pulls you into a tight hug, which is nice for a moment. For a second you think maybe he has repented his ways, but then he pulls back and pushes you.

“What are you doing here?” he hisses.

“I’m saving your ass!” you say, shoving him back. “What’s it look like I’m doing, shopping?”

“You can’t be here!” he says. You can nearly make out his twisted face in the darkness. “They’re going to –“

And then a third revelation hits him – this was the plan all along. This is what they meant by hurting him in another way. They’re going to kill you.

Steve hoists you up off the floor then, shoving you towards the door. “Please, I – I need you to go.”

“Steve, leaving without you isn’t an option,” you seethe. “I didn’t just have a bunch of 14 year-olds and Robin help me break into a Russian base for you to tell me to get lost!”

He gasps. “You got the kids involved in this?!”

“Yeah – by the way, thanks for keeping that really helpful secret from me!”

He shakes his head, stressed being an understatement. “I’ve got this!” He runs a hand through his hair, heart hammering in his chest.

“You’ve got this?! By – by sitting here and twiddling your thumbs?” You shove a finger into his chest – well, what you assume is his chest. “I’m the knight and you’re the damsel, princess.”

His hand flies up to his chest in shock. “I am not a damsel –“

“You are, and you’re coming with me –“

“I’m not leaving!”

You pause, incredulous. Tears pricking in your eyes, you begin to rant. “You were my best friend, Steve. I was there for you…. We used to have fun together, remember? I bought you a blueberry danish and coffee every Monday morning. Every Monday morning, I went out of my way to make you happy.” You laugh sadly. “And then I try to help you, and you push me away? Why? What did I do to you? What did I do to you to make you prefer dying in a Russian fortress over coming with me?”

Steve’s silent.

“I just broke into this place to save your life. I risked mine for yours. I stood up for you and got fired for it – oh, and you never mentioned Carol would tell on me! I risked my life for you tonight and you don’t even thank me, you just push me away?” You laugh sadly again. “You’re an asshole.”

Steve feels tears well in his own eyes, but he blinks them away. He grabs your shoulders. “You need to go. Now.”

You scoff and shove him off of you. “To think! To think I ever loved you, Princess Harrington, Queen of –“

Steve blinks. “You – you love me?”

You open and close your mouth. You weren’t supposed to say that.

You’re about to give him a response when the lights flip on and the door opens. You and Steve turn quickly, staring at the guards standing in the doorway. Everyone freezes for a moment before you weakly ask, “Can we just have one more minute?”

The guards seize you quickly, grabbing you by the arms as you kick and writhe in their grasp. Steve tries to lunge for them, but he’s grabbed too, a man on each side. They pull you both to opposite sides of the room.

“Let go of her!” Steve shouts, twisting in their grip.

“Shut up!” you hiss. You don’t need him acting like he gives a shit now.

The guards start to pat you down for weapons and find your walkie, tossing it onto the floor. They grab the key card and dispose of it, too. Your gun is taken from you. One guard feels the knife on your thigh and his hand quickly reaches down your pants, making you gasp, and he pulls the blade out quickly.

“Don’t touch her!” Steve yells.

“Oh, like you haven’t done this before!” you retort.

Edwards comes into the room now, and you can’t help but to laugh. It all makes sense now - and Steve was right.

“Hey, asshole,” you say towards him.

Steve is going crazy. He feels like he’s drowning in the adrenaline and anxiety. It’s like he’s been kicked in the stomach, and you’re going to die before he can even tell you he loves you back.

Edwards grabs your chin and jerks it towards him. You narrow your eyes.

“How did you get in?” he asks.

You respond by spitting in his face. You knew there’d be repercussions, but it doesn’t make the pain of a guard’s fist flying into your ribs hurt any less. You can’t breathe for a second, hyperfixated on the pain, adrenaline rushing into your veins. You bend but snap back up, despite your body’s pleas to recoil. You couldn’t go down that easy.

“We have guards crawling all over this place. How. Did. You. Get. In?”

“You hired some really shitty guards,” you respond, and this time a fist makes contact with your jaw. You cry out and shut your eyes. Your heart beats in your ears and you suck in a sharp breath, whispering, “That hurt.”

“Now I know why you didn’t date her, Harrington,” Edwards says, amused. “She’s got quite a mouth on her.”

“Men seem to like that, don’t you know?” you say hoarsely.

“You don’t have to do this,” Steve says, voice cracking. “You can hurt me instead, please, just –“

“Steve,” you snap, frankly enraged that he’s trying to bargain for your safety after being a complete dick to you.

Another fist flies into you, this time hitting your cheekbone. Your head snaps to the side and your vision goes black for a moment before coming back. Your neck burns and your head aches, and before you can recover, you’re hit again, same place. Then a kick comes to your shin and your leg gives out from under you. The guards still hold you up, though, and you see a fist recoil. You moan out, “Oh, not my stomach, man!” but of course, you’re hit in the stomach, and you groan, breath knocked out of you yet again. You can start to taste blood in your mouth, metallic and sharp, and you can feel your pulse in every part of you. Your mind zones out, too focused on the pain, and you squeeze your eyes shut to stop yourself from crying.

Fists continue to rain down on you, mainly landing in your torso, and Steve cries, fighting even harder to get out of the hold he’s in.

“Please, stop!” he pleads. “You’re killing her!”

Your head pounds and you feel dizzy. You open your eyes to tunnel vision, focusing on one specific tile on the floor. You swear you can see every single imperfection in it, every crack and nook and discoloration. You’re in an extraordinary amount of pain. Every breath in feels like a kick and your stomach reels. You don’t even realize that you’re crying. One more blow to your temple and you finally give in to the pain, vision completely going black, body going limp.

They drop you then and let go of Steve, who runs to you and drops to his knees beside you. His head reels and anger and heartbreak flare in him, but he doesn’t have the energy to fight. All he can focus on is checking your pulse and making sure you didn’t crack your head when it hit the floor.

The guards collect your items and begin to leave, Edwards trailing behind them. He turns in the doorway to look at Steve, shaking his head, a sick smile on his face.

He turns, closes the door, and the room goes black again.

===

At first when you wake up, you don’t feel anything. For a split second, you think maybe you died – but then the pain slams into you, making your breath hitch. Every part of you hurts, and it hurts to breathe. You’re confused, too – when you try to open your eyes, it’s pitch black. With a groan, you try to pull yourself up, but a set of arms pull you back down onto something soft. Panicked, you try to get up again, and, again, you’re pulled back down. You hear something other than the ringing in your ears, a kind of hum, and you reach slowly behind you to figure out who has you.

“Hey, it’s me,” you finally hear. It’s Steve.

“Oh,” you mumble, letting your arm fall down to your side. “What…”

“You’re safe,�� he says. “I’m right here.”

“Where are we?” you slur, finally opening your eyes. “Why’s it black?”

“We’re in the same room, they just shut the lights off.” You notice how thick his voice is; he’s been crying.

Apparently, getting the shit beat out of you makes you less angry at him. You feel your heart twitch and you frown. “Hey,” you whisper, trying to sit up again, but this time the pain knocks you back down. “Hey – don’t cry.”

He sniffles. “I’m not.”

You reach up and gently feel his face – it’s wet. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Jesus.” A painful laugh slips past his lips, and he sniffles again. “You just got the shit beat out of you - and you’re worried about me?”

You make a weak noise in response.

It’s quiet for a while as you try to get your bearings and Steve tries to stop crying. “I get it now,” you finally say. “I get why you were so scared. The kids….” You feel his body tense underneath you, and you sigh. “I’m sorry, Steve. If I knew-“

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for - for everything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry I didn’t protect you, I’m sorry I got you into this. I’m sorry I was a shitty friend.”

“You were a great friend,” you say, smiling faintly. “You were just a really shitty crush.”

He doesn’t think now is the time to tell you that he loves you.

“Heard that one before,” he jokes, and you adjust yourself.

“No,” you say. “You don’t have to be funny right now, Steve Harrington. We are probably about to die. You don’t have to crack any jokes.”

Steve’s face falls at the mention of the dire situation you both were in. Being in shit like this all the time desensitized him, he guesses - or maybe whoever was writing his life just had a fucked-up sense of how things should work.

“Did they tell you?” he asks. “About….” He trails off before he finishes.

“Starcourt,” you answer. “They told me what happened last year. I don’t know anything that happened before that.”

Steve wishes it would stay that way.

“Were you right?” you ask, words starting to slur together again.

He furrows his brows, but then gets it. “Yeah. It was Edwards and the Russians. They killed that guy for – for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

You go to shake your head, but it hurts. Instead you hum sadly in response.

“I’m sorry I said what I said last night,” you confess after a few minutes. “It was uncalled for.”

You hear Steve sigh. “No, it wasn’t. I deserved it.”

“Maybe,” you say thoughtfully. “But not like that. Not then. Not that way. And I’m sorry I didn’t bring your bat back in. I’m sorry I didn’t get to you sooner. I’m sorry for....” Your breath hitches and the feeling of your emotions catching up to you hurts more than the punches. Well, almost. You shake your head gently.

“Sorry for...?”

You take in the deepest breath you can but wince at the pain. Steve’s arms tighten around you and you smile. You settle into him, enjoying the contact. “That’s why.” That’s why you love him.

Steve laughs nervously. “You’re not makin’ any sense, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry for loving you,” you say, just above a whisper. You pause to gather your thoughts. “I didn’t mean to. God, I didn’t mean to. Even Robin told me it was a disaster waiting to happen.”

Steve is silent, so you continue.

“She warned me. She told me it wouldn’t end well. But, Christ... laying in your bed with you, looking up at you....” You laugh sadly. “I thought I was the only girl in the world....” You let out another small laugh, feeling pathetic. “I was being selfish. I won’t do it again.”

A thousand thoughts race through Steve’s head. When did you and Robin talk? Robin was right, but he wants to yell at her anyway. When did you fall in love with him? What do you mean you didn’t mean to?

“You’re not selfish,” was all he could get out. After a moment, he continues. “I was selfish. I thought I had to keep both of my lives separate. I thought I could have you as a friend and as a - someone to help me.” He swallows hard, pushing back tears. “But I was so – so awful - I didn’t think about your feelings. I didn’t think about how it affected you. I was trying to protect you but-“

“Steve,” you whisper. You reach up and touch his face, and he melts into your palm. “Shut up.”

Steve is taken aback at first, but then he starts to laugh. It starts out slow and low, but crescendos quickly into a hearty, stuffy, dorky laugh. He doesn’t know why he’s laughing - the shock of you telling him to shut up, just like you used to, or maybe it’s just the shock of the situation. You start soon after him, and although each jerk of your body hurts and sends your head careening, you can’t stop.

“I missed you,” he breathes finally. He grabs your hand and laces his fingers through it gently, reclaiming the bond of trust and care you both had.

“Missed you too,” you murmur, leaning back into him.

He wishes he could see you now, eyes alight and happy. He wishes he could see your smile and the look you always gave him - that look of patience, of kindness, of love.

Maybe he should tell you here.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says slowly. He licks his lips and pauses. “Uh….”

“Did I look sexy getting beat up?”

“No jokes allowed,” he says, squeezing your arm gently. He takes a few deep breaths before speaking. “I love you. And it’s not something like I ever felt before. When I’m with you… I feel like I’m home. I feel safe. I feel like I can be myself. And I don’t feel that way around a lot of people. But you – you make me feel like I’m invincible.” He laughs softly. “Things are funny with you, even when they shouldn’t be. You make me feel like I have something to give. Like I’m smart. You believed in me, even when you didn’t know what the hell I was talking about… and no one else would ever even give me that chance.”

You’re quiet, but your heart is drumming in you at a fast pace, making your ribs hurt and head spin.

“You were patient with me. Kind. Even when I didn’t deserve it. You came to save my life after what I did to you.” He sniffles and clears his throat. “I’ll never be able to say sorry enough. Not even if I say it every single day for the rest of my life. And I wish … I know you deserve more than that. I know that. But I love you, Y/N. I always have but I just ….”

You bob your head lightly. “You couldn’t open up to me. I understand, Steve.”

“I love you,” he says, and his voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”

You run your thumb over his hand as you think. It hurts to think, but you try. You try to find the words to respond, but you figure that maybe a kiss would say enough. You sit up again to face him, but something stabs your lower stomach. Your falter quickly, and Steve’s hands grab your biceps.

“Are you okay?” He asks, rushed and worried.

Your brows furrow and you bring a hand down to your waistband. Then you remember - they didn’t find the other key.

“Shit!” You shout, twisting your body painfully to look at him - well, look towards him. You wince aggressively before saying, “The key!”

“What key?!” He panics. “Are you-“

You gently reach down into your waistband and pull it out - it’s intact.

“This one!” You exclaim, shoving it towards him.

“What –“ his head moves back in disgust – “why is this so warm -“

“It’s a key card. It’ll get us out of here.”

You can practically envision his confusion in the dark. “Where -“

“I stole it earlier and hid it in my waistband and they didn’t find it. Keep up, princess.”

You go to stand but he gently pulls you back down. “Woah, woah, take it easy, will you? Jesus, you probably have ten concussions and a broken rib -“

“What’s your idea? Get killed?”

He narrows his eyes at where he thinks you are. “We have to formulate something before you just hop up and stumble out there.”

“Look,” you begin. You take a second to gather yourself – damn, you’re dizzy. “Doc Owens is coming, but we can’t sit in here and wait for liberation. They’re probably getting ready to kill us right now, execution style.”

“You didn’t need to clarify that, but – yeah, yeah, okay.”

“We need to get the hell out of here. I have this key card and it’ll open the doors for us. We go and find the walkie talkie and some weapons, and we get out!”

“How are you going to walk around here like that? And with me in these clothes?”

You freeze. “Let’s change outfits.”

Steve laughs. “There’s no way you’re fitting –“

“Finish that sentence and you’ll never have a chance with me, got it?”

“I – yeah – sorry –“

“You can wear this uniform and act like you’re a guard and I’m the prisoner. The hat might still be around here somewhere ….”

Steve laughs mirthlessly. “No way this will work.”

“It’s all we have!” you say, and Steve understands. You blindly trusted him for weeks – he can trust you blindly for a few hours. He sighs and starts to strip, throwing his shirt and sweatpants at you.

“Last time I saw you, you were in boxers,” you muse, gripping the sweats.

“Couldn’t let the Russians see my –“

“Steve!”

“I’m kidding! Jesus.”

He helps you pull your uniform off, both of you blushing and in an awkward silence the entire time. It’s difficult to get things off and on in the dark and with a concussion, but you both manage. Steve finds your hat on the floor and he grabs it, sighing as he tucks his hair up into it. If he gets gunned down looking like this, there’s going to be Hell to pay. He helps you up and you stumble into his chest, resting your hands on it. He smiles, happy to feel the contact.

“Are you ready?” you ask.

“Can I say no?” he asks.

“Haven’t you done this like, three times?”

He laughs lightly. “You never get used to it.”

You smile and grab his hand, twisting your fingers together. “Let’s do this.”

===

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fic #my fics #the partners #me on quora trying to figure out how it feels to get the shit kicked out of u: ok wig I am learning

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siancore · 5 years ago

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A/N: This is a collab between @thematsaidwelcome79 and I. It details Rick's return to ASZ after six years of everyone thinking he was dead

Part 1: Prologue by Siancore

Words: 1,986

Warnings: Typical Zombie Apocalypse Violence; Blood; and Gore.

Read on FF.net

Read on AO3

Follow thematsaidwelcome on FF.net

The cool water slid down Rick’s throat. It hurt a little, as he swallowed too much at once; the reprieve felt almost foreign. He could not remember the last time he had been given something to drink. His captors liked to remind him that being an ingrate in their community did not go unpunished. It was not that Rick was ungrateful for the help, because he truly was. They had saved his life when he was on the brink of death. They had lifted him to safety, and, as they so bluntly put it, wasted valuable resources on him; resources that could have gone to someone else. Someone who would have appreciated the help. Someone who would have wanted to stay and work off the debt that they owed. But Rick Grimes did not want to stay. He wanted to go home to Michonne and Judith; he needed to go home to his family. He was not an ingrate, but rather, a man who wanted to be with his wife and daughter.

That was almost six years ago. Six heartbreaking, lonely years. It crushed his heart just to acknowledge how long it had been. Not a single day passed where he did not miss his girls. Not a single day passed where he had not longed for them; where he wished he had done things differently. Where he wished he would have spent more time with them, and less time at the bridge. Where he hoped and prayed that they were safe. They had to be. He knew Michonne would do everything in her power to make sure they were.

Judith. His precious child whom he swore to always protect. Whom he had hoped to be there with, every step of the way. His daughter who did not deserve this world she was thrust into. He missed her little smile. He missed the way that she felt in his embrace; how she looked at him with such adoration that it caused his heart to swell with pride, and hurt at the same time because all he ever wanted to do was live for her.

Michonne. His heart ached for her, knowing that she most likely thought he had died. She had lost so much, too much. It saddened him deeply that he was putting her through the grief of losing yet another person she loved. He missed the way she felt wrapped in his arms. How her kisses breathed new life into him again and yet again. How she was smart and strong and wanted the best for their little family.

Thoughts of them are what kept Rick going on those harsh days and those long and lonely nights. When he had first arrived, he was unconscious. He spent months in a coma, he was told. They had kept him alive and cared for him. When he had woken, he was disoriented and remembered nothing of what led to him being there.

As time passed, he grew strong, regained his memories, and healed; he recalled seeing all of the people he had cared for. The ones who were long gone, and the ones who were still living. And then that explosion. The destruction of the bridge, and the sacrifice of his life, to save everyone else. When he was feeling particularly low, he would curse himself for giving so much. But then he would regain composure and realize he had done the right thing. He had saved them.

Yet it was not lost on Rick that the cost to himself was great. Though his family was safe, they were without him, and he was without them. That is what fuelled him and his urge to leave the community. When he was well enough to work, they asked him to. Jadis asked him to. Her being allowed to stay, it seemed, was riding on Rick’s cooperation and willingness to toil and sweat as a form of recompense.

He reminded her that he had a family back in Alexandria; this meant very little to her. He knew she was a selfish person, but this was another level of malice. He reminded himself that she should meet a swift end if ever he was afforded to opportunity to do so. With each failed attempt at escape; with each subsequent beating and imprisonment, Rick grew more determined to free himself of the walls of this prison dressed up as civilization. But he needed to be smart. They had locked him away for long enough, now he would convince them he was ready to join the workforce.

Presently, he found himself being given food and water. He would play the grateful prisoner for a time, even agree to work their fields, until it was time for him to make his move. Jadis stood at the other side of the small cell and watched him. He chewed the food slowly, so he did not choke, and hoped it would be enough to give his some physical strength.

“You don’t have to spend the rest of your life in here,” she said. He said nothing. It was the same message she delivered each and every time she visited. “There’s work to be done; debts to be paid, if you’re ready to do what’s needed without trying to get away, they will have you. They will let you out of this shithole.”

Rick washed his food down with the water she brought with her. He then looked up and met her eyes. Determination rose in his aching stomach until it seeped through his tired bones and flowed through his veins. He cleared his throat and said, barely above a whisper, “I’m ready.”

…..

The sun was bright and it burned his eyes. Being locked away in the dark cell did not help to maintain his eyesight. It took a moment to adjust to being outdoors in that daylight again. A guard stayed with Rick while he went to wash up. The dirt and grime fell from his weary body and the cold water rejuvenated him. As he found his bearings, he remembered that the prison cells were near the agricultural fields, and the sprawling community was off in the distance.

Rick slicked his long curls back, and ran his hand over his thick, mostly-white beard. He would not waste time visiting a barber, for half of the day was already gone. Instead, he chose to begin to work the fields. If he did that for a week or so, maybe the powers that be would be more lax with the security detail; maybe they would be fooled into thinking he was ready to repay them for their so-called hospitality and kindness.

…..

With each day that passed, Rick grew stronger. With each day, he was able to take note of the routines of the guards, and identify if there were any structural weaknesses in the walls: There were none, but off in one of the corners, the barrier was low. What he understood of this community was that it was part of a larger network. No one told him where he was in the world; no one told how far he was from home. It was something of a security measure against those whom the community had acquired.

It was the end of another workday, a few weeks into his duties, and Rick was packing away the farming implements and chemicals he was using. The guards’ watchful eyes were never far away, so there was no way he could take one of the tools back to the cells with him. As he brushed his curls from his brow, he had an idea. It just might work, too, he mused, if he could get word to the other prisoners and gain their support. Upon approaching one of the guards, he put forth his request.

“Do you think I’d be able to see the barber tonight?” asked Rick as he ran his hand through his mess of curls. “Didn’t realize how much of a bitch it was to let my hair get so long.”

The guard eyed him, and then nodded his head before saying, “Yeah. Don’t see why not. I’ll send him around after meal time.”

“Thanks,” said Rick as he ambled toward the mess hall to have dinner and spread a few whispers of dissent.

…..

The thing about the prison block in the community was that it was only guarded by two people at any time: One on the inside, and the other at the outer door. It was their own hubris about the fortitude of their infrastructure that accounted for this somewhat relaxed approach. Rick was going to use it to his advantage.

He waited in his cell for the barber to come; upon their arrival, Rick played the willing punter in need of a cut and shave. He backed away from the cell door when the sentry unlocked it, and took up a seat on the stool the barber brought in.

“Yell if you need anything,” said the guard as he closed the door and left the two men inside the cell. Rick noticed it was not locked. They would be foolish to lock someone in there with a prisoner. There was no way they would even entertain letting a prisoner go with a hostage. Luckily, Rick had no intentions of taking a hostage.

“What’d you need?” asked the barber as he sharpened his straight razor on the leather strap attached to his bag.

“Get rid of the beard,” said Rick. “But leave the curls, my wife loves them. She’ll want to run her fingers through them when I break free from this place and find her.”

“Eh?” asked the barber.

As quickly as he grew confused, Rick was on him and had freed the razor from his grasp. He used it to slice it across the barber’s neck. His limp body fell to the dusty floor as the people in the cells next to Rick started yelling and banging on their cages. The guards were back there in no time, one before the other. Rick rammed the freshly sharpened blade into the first guard’s stomach, before disembowelling him. He moved to the next guard and kicked him in the shin, effectively breaking his leg just below the knee. He cried out in pain and dropped to the floor before Rick took the razor from the other guard’s still-writhing corpse, and slit his throat. He searched their bodies for the keys and took one lot for himself, and gave the others to the other prisoners.

Havoc ensued as everyone ran from the block to make their escape. They used chemicals on hand to fuel the fires; they set the cellblock and the crops alight. Some dashed for the fences and ran for the walls. Others wanted retribution for their captivity and were intent on doing as much damage as they could. It took some time before alarms were sounded and the police force came. Rick hid over near one of the tool sheds and watched the chaos unfurl. While the authorities were busy with chasing down escapees and extinguishing fires, Rick crept away to the quiet corner of the yard and scaled the fence in the place where it was lowest.

By the time the fires were put out and the prisoners were either captured or killed, Rick was running furiously through the abandoned streets of the outlying surrounds. He ran until his legs felt like they would give way. He ran until his lungs hurt. He ran until he could no longer smell the smoke from the fires. He ran until his body was so heavy that it collapsed to the soft dirt on the side of a sealed road. He willed himself to stand and figure out where he was. In the moonlight, he was able to see a sign that read: Welcome to Ohio. So much to discover…

#richonne #richonne fanfiction #rick grimes #michonne #michonne grimes

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yanderedbh-moved · 5 years ago

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H/C

Just a handful of Hurt/Comfort prompts for each character because H/C is literally my crack. A sort of post in the same vein as this one I made earlier. Requests are open, though if you want me to expand on, or write more from any of these ideas.

Connor

The pain of sitting at your bedside and watching as someone he once knew as a reliable and capable partner is forced to ask for assistance to get a drink. You’re recovering from sustaining damages from a past mission. Currently, you’re too weak to so much as lift a glass of water.

The two of you out in the field together, in the thick of battle. He notices you’ve taken damage and can’t help but ask if you need to leave, to go rest up. You tell him you’re strong enough to continue the fight, and he believes you. It’s only several days later that he notices the bandages under your clothing and is overcome with the guild of not pulling you out of the situation.

Before now, Connor always saw whimpering as cowardly, something no decent fighter would do, even with their dying breath. But watching you on the ground, writhing in pain causes him an awful kind of pain he’s never known before.

Markus

You blackout during a fight, and for fear of losing you, Markus carried you out of danger himself. The risk was too significant to ever lose you, and it wasn’t one he anticipated on taking. Now you’ve awoken in a place you’ve never seen before with no idea how you got there, the confusion almost as intense as your physical pain.

His famous bridal carry.

Markus watching the way you’re severely bandaged up and limping around after a battle. He knows you willingly gave everything you could to help support him in the fight, but still, he can’t help but feel responsible for this.

Kara

On the run together, you’re cornered and need to think fast to make it out alive. On a split-second decision, Kara decides to try and save time by leading you over a rooftop where she believes the two of you won’t be spotted. Only to her horror though she turns around to make sure you’re still following her, only to feel her heartbreak as she watches one of the people below shoot up at you, causing you to flinch, lose your footing and fall.

Despite wanting to be the strong one here, Kara has a bleeding heart. And even though she worries she’ll look weak because of this, Kara can’t help but wince when you’re in pain, stuck in bed, unable to help yourself.

Kara shushing Alice. And keeps the poor young girl from crying over the sight of something she’s too young to have seen.

Hank

The two of you sitting all alone in a hospital room together. This is your first time sustaining severe damage from a mission. In this case, several abrasions of the skin which required stitches to patch up, but the real issue here, your broken ribs. He’s been in your shoes, and he just wants to do whatever he can to make you feel better. There’s nothing he can do to numb the pain you feel coughing for the first time with broken ribs, and he can’t help but flinch in remembering the pain.

After an unsuccessful mission, you’re in the worst pain you’ve ever felt, gunshot wounds and other bodily trauma leave you immobilized with pain. An ambulance in on its way, but now, there are no painkillers to numb the pain. The most Hank can offer is a few sips of whiskey he had in the back of his car to comfort you.

Luther

Imagine you’re escaping Zlatko with Kara. The two of you are doing the best you can to keep each other out of harm’s way, and when Luther is on your side, it becomes all the easier. The lot of you are so nearly out of harm’s way, and safety is so close you let your guard down for just a minute. In that time, you are struck by the bear you never even knew about. Luther and Kara do their best to get you away, but the damage is done. Luther can’t help but hate the way he knew about the bear, but still, wasn’t able to protect you from it, and because of that, your blood is on his hands here.

His deep voice doing the best he can to comfort you with an “Easy now, it’s alright, I’m here, just relax, everything will be ok.”

Luther doesn’t even need to say anything at all sometimes. His knowing, kind, and empathetic gaze is the one thing you can understand in your hazy painful current state of mind.

North

North was never one to shy away from even the most intense of conflict and would throw herself headfirst into battle in the name of defending her friends and her cause. Unfortunately, this means she saw first hand the way a single critical hit downed you, leaving it up to her to remove you from the situation. Sitting there beside you North is almost too afraid to touch you, fearing any contact would only cause you more distress. The most she can offer you here is to gently push the hair from your forehead, which is stuck in place by sweat.

North yelling other people to stay away from you, tears in her eyes, emotions straining her voice. You’re hurt and in need, but she doesn’t trust anyone but herself to look after you.

You knew if you were an android, she wouldn’t hesitate to end her own life in the name of saving your own. There is no cost too high for her to give up to you, sadly this just won’t work. And as you lay, bleeding out below her, there is nothing she can do to save you. All she can do now is provide what little fleeting comfort she can for you in your final moments.

Simon

He may already be regarded as one of the gentlest members of Jericho, but when it comes to handling you while you’re wounded, Simon would practically treat you like you were made of glass.

There are no painkillers he can offer you while in Jericho, and Simon knows it wouldn’t be worth it to leave your side to go out and try to find them. All he can do now is hold you and pray your pain passes swiftly, and it won’t be long until you’re back in commission.

He’s fighting a war, pain, death, and sacrifice is a part of his daily life. For the most part, Simon thinks he’s accepted this as the way things are, but when he watches you get caught in a deadly crossfire, Simon is affronted by a fear he’s never known before.

Josh

If he were to lose you, the one person he cared about the most amid a violent raid, it would really stick out as a somewhat ironic kind of heartbreak. Like it’s nothing short of tragic that the one who opposed violence so aggressively ended up losing so much on account of it.

He knows if you’re in rough condition, he must do his best to keep in control to make sure you survive this, but he feels so weak and overwhelmed here. Josh can’t stop his hands from shaking as he does his best to dress your wounds to the best of his ability.

While he knows you can’t hear him, Josh mutters over and over again that he promises never to leave your side while you’re murmuring nonsense in a fevered daze. Josh is doing the best he can to keep you awake, and to keep you from falling asleep on him because he knows how dangerous it would be to let you fall asleep now.

Kamski

You’re stuck in bed after contracting a severe illness. You feel as though all the strength has left your body, and the world around you feels muted and bleary. What you don’t see here is that even though there’s no way you see him now, Elijah refuses to leave your room. He has every confidence you’ll find the strength within yourself to carry on, but for now, he wouldn’t dare abandon you like this.

Kamski, the man usually so slow to offer any kind of physical comfort holding you as tight as he can. You’ve just awoken from an awful nightmare and are still coming to your senses, without any other idea of what to do, Elijah holds you close, doing his best to show you’re safe here, there’s nothing to worry about while you’re at his side.

Gavin

One without much medical experience or information personally the most he would know how to do after watching your body fall to the ground after suffering a nasty blow is to try and frantically find a plus, or to check if you’re still breathing. But still, if he can’t find those things, there’s no promising he’ll know how to handle the situation from there.

Gavin would basically turn into your personal guard dog while you’re in recovery. He wouldn’t want anyone alone with you while you’re in such a condition, there’s no way anyone’s getting to you without going through him first.

If it were a group mission, there were more than just the two of you imagine how much more awful the situation if you were downed by a gunshot. Gavin really wants to do his best here and to remove the bullet from you. However, another member of the party would have no choice but to step in and force him to stop. On account of the way Gavin’s rough, unexperienced movements were only hurting you further.

Ralph

While keeping you in his home as a hostage, your body begins to lose the fight against the cold exposure and lack of sustenance. Even though you’re trying to keep your distance from him, you lose focus and faint. Not understanding the situation, Ralph fears you’ve actually died.

This abandoned house, so drafty and frigid and cold. Without any sunlight to provide a source of light or warmth, you fear this night will never end. The only source of comfort here is to huddle in close with Ralph. Try to fight off the cold any way you can.

Ralph wants to be a secure provider for you. Especially while you’re sick and stuck in bed, unfortunately for him, there is no way for him to stay strong when he looks at the way you appear so weak in bed. Something about the way your body seems so weak and helpless leaves Ralph fearing the worse for you.

Daniel

The two of you were out late, all alone one night. Not harboring any commitments to any but each other, the two of you decided to have a little fun and investigate the secret and abandoned area of Detroit. Finding a small stream nearly frozen over the two of you have a little fun messing around, threatening to push each other in, or. Accident strikes, and as the two of you are leaving, you slip and hit your head against one of the hard rocks around the pond. Daniel feels his heart skip a beat. He never imagined something so innocent would turn so morbid, and he’s left at a loss for what to do but hold you close, and beg that you don’t leave him here all alone.

Daniel wishing he wasn’t programmed to be something as weak as a house servant whenever you’re suffering from a bout of anxiety at home. He wanted to promise you he’ll be strong enough to protect you no matter what. However, on account of what he is, Daniel can’t help but hate the way he feels so inadequate, especially around other androids.

Imagine him softly singing you a lullaby to calm you down in a time of distress. While this tactic may only be intended for children, it’s what Daniel knows to work. And because of that, Daniel loves to hold you close and softly coo a little melody to keep you calm and to help you find comfort.

Nines

The two of you on a mission together, after taking damage from the opposition, you’re officially downed. Nines want more than anything to take you out of danger and get you to safety, but for the moment, he can’t. The only thing he can do now is force you to keep quiet to keep from being discovered.

You try your best to hide an injury from him. The last thing you want is to appear weak in front of your partner, but he knows better. Nines read you instantly and without hesitation demands an explanation for what happened to you.

It’s an inconvenient bother to Nines to see you in pain. The only thing worse than this, of course, would be Nines delivering the pain to you himself. Imagine his nightmare scenario here. He’s forced to perform an impromptu bullet removal on you while in the heat of ganger. As the only one with the necessary level of competence, he’s no choice but to hurt you all the more in the name of hopefully keeping the bullet from killing you.

(Edit: I did my best to provide everyone with three original and unique prompts, but upon editing, I do realize how similar many of these sound, I feel kinda mixed about how this one turned out, but I hope this was a pleasant read for you!)

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