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skylarstark4826 · 4 months

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It started with the rain.

A misting grew with the dusk, becoming a heavy downpour once the night had completely encompassed the Pandora sky. The clear noises of the torrent against the outer roofing had become a repetitive constant, amid the quiet humming of the running machines.

At this point, within the tightly confined accommodations, there was everything to lose.

Including sleep.

For someone who'd developed terribly sensitive hearing over the years, the sounds of the storm had become a personal hell.

Trudy rolled from her side to her back again, hopelessly looking up to the ceiling. Working her tail off all day in the SA-2 Samson, and for what? Was this operation even going anywhere anymore? A little over two months now on this expedition, and she was running out of things to do. Even Grace was spending all of her time away from the camp, now that Jake had gotten her an in.

The pilot sighed wearily, her brow lowered in irritation against the midnight thoughts. With everything that had been happening, she admittedly felt a little misplaced on the mission. Not only was she alone in lacking an Avatar out here, she was simply just separate from the others. She didn't understand all the excitement over figuring out which tree was related to which. She wouldn't even bother when it came to the Na'vi's language. There wasn't anyone to talk to about RDA training, or to discuss flight shortcuts around Hell's Gate with. No, Trudy was sent for supplies every few weeks, and supplies only; a beeline path to base and back.

She had become a caged bird, wings clipped.

Closing her eyes again, Trudy let her focus wander. Her veteran ears were still picking up on the cadence of tapping from the rain above; sleep seemingly a distant, impossible wish.

Just as her consciousness drifted, her mind finally clearing, Trudy became aware of another sound. Her eyes opened again, in the darkness, and she positioned herself upward. From the front of the temporary station, she heard – a voice? – drifting out and in. Was Jake back for some reason? Had something happened?

Stirring from the small cot, Trudy clamored out of bed and walked the short length to the corner of the wall, listening all the while.

The blue light brightened, awakening the display screen with it.

"I'm, uh, not really use to doing this." He swallowed thickly, his voice a hesitant tone below strained. "But Grace wanted someone using this thing all the time; for now, I guess that's me." Norm cleared his throat, a sound minute against the heavy rain outside.

"I'm alright," he looked to his reflected image on the hologram screen, nodding. His hair was a bit longer now, just brushing below his eyebrows. Bleary eyes, weighted with the stress of the past months, gazed back wearily at him. His face was scruffy, worn in with the setting; unkempt stubble traced along his jaw and cheekbones, sparsely trailing down his neck. He was tired and had a headache threatening to settle in. This, he knew, wasn't 'alright'.

"There are tensions back at the base now. We're hearing about them more and more often, and things aren't looking too good." His hazel eyes dropped from the camera; he continued with his gaze downward, "And out with the Na'vi – well, Jake would know most about that now." A slighted bitterness edged its way into his tone, and he sighed.

"With me, though? I don't know," Norm leaned back in the chair, looking to the camera again. "Everything here's been more than I expected – much more – and, in that aspect, what I have done to reach this has definitely been worth it. Having the chance to be on Pandora, you know, experiencing my Avatar, working with the others - just everything." He began chewing his lip, a silence filling the moment.

"But I," he delayed, suddenly, uncertain of how to formulate what he wanted to say. Norm wasn't an ungrateful person. He had never taken any of his training lightly, or for granted. He knew that he was there for a reason, and that he was very content in filling that purpose.

However, there was a piece of him that had been buried beneath the science, and schooling, and the work for a very long time; it was something that Norm had never come to terms with, because he had never felt it was necessary, really. Despite his efforts to cage it, Norm Spellman did have a heart. And he was only just beginning to feel the repercussions of it.

"There's something I've been missing."

"This," he motioned around himself, "this was my only dream, and I'm living it." It was odd, actually. Having worked so long for one specific goal, Norm hadn't actually thought as to what would happen once he reached it. Hearing about the life here, and Ewya especially, had put him to thinking this last month.

"The Na'vi believe that a person is born twice; the second time being when they find their place. I guess… I guess I haven't found mine yet."

Why couldn't it have been him out there, instead of him? Why was Jake – the one who had barely prepared for any of this at all – the one that had found the 'in'? And the way he talked about Neytiri lately; he could see it in Jake's eyes. He would listen, in both fascination and envy, and watch as Jake's expression lit up, his face aglow as he spoke of the princess. Out of all the information that the ex-marine told him, that remained the one thing that Norm could not grasp. He didn't understand Jake's sentiment towards her, it was unfamiliar; admittedly, he had never experienced a closeness like that with someone else, which left him only to wonder.

"To find Tsahaylu," he muttered more to himself than the video recording.

"Spellman?"

Norm jumped at the sound of a voice and turned in his chair, blinking into the unclear darkness of the lab. Emerging from the shadowed hall, the figure gave a low laugh, "I thought that was you. What the hell are you still awake for?"

The resident pilot approached, her bare arms folded tightly, feet tapping on the cold flooring. She had clearly been in bed; her dark hair pulled back into a slightly messy ponytail, tired eyes looking to him in speculation.

"Trudy, hey," his voice sounded more worn than he'd hoped, more disheartened than he realized before.

Norm's hand fumbled with the off switch to the camera momentarily, and he held in the button. Slowly the blue light faded, closing the screen down too, "I was, uh, filling in with the video logging. Since Jake and Grace aren't going to be back tonight."

"Ah," she nodded, leaning against the corner of his desk. "Y'know, you don't actually have to do that. I don't think Grace was too concerned."

"I -" he scratched at his neck, uncomfortably, "I know. But documentation is everything right now." The words came out awkwardly, as he lied. Work was as good as any excuse for insomnia, particularly when it was self-caused.

The storm had tamed slightly in comparison to its racking unruliness in the hours past, which he realized as he spoke at a softer level. It truly wasn't even night anymore; they were into the early hours of morning now. He looked over to her, suddenly, with an edging worry.

"I'm so sorry, did I wake you? I didn't realize it if I was speaking loudly over the racket out there…" By which he actually meant: I honestly hope you didn't hear any of that.

"Oh. Nah," she replied rather quickly, waving it off with a hand. "I haven't been sleeping at all, anyway."

Norm shifted in his chair, sitting more upright.

"Why haven't you?" he asked, somewhat abruptly.

Trudy looked down. How would she explain to him this feeling of being trapped? How could he understand the thoughts that had been creeping into her head all night? She wasn't about to tell him about her hearing damage, either, embarrassing as it was. The girl shrugged, brushing her bangs out of her face.

"This damn temp station," she muttered, "cold as hell in the nights. I'm surprised we don't freeze over, let alone not sleep." It wasn't completely a lie; the entire place was made up of metal junk, and keeping the machines cool was a vital.

She was cold? He knew that being under regular body temperature was a side effect to fatigue, which in her case was a very obvious possibility. In fact, if she had a low Iron level, that could double the effect. Feeling somewhat obligated, Norm - without a second thought - unzipped his hooded sweatshirt and pulled his long arms from it. A slight concern on his face, he held out the garment to her.

"Here," Norm looked up, starting to feel the cool air against his thin t-shirt.

Guilt encompassed her expression as she looked to his offer. She would deny, but then she would also have to explain why she had really been awake. Before Trudy could configure a reply, she had already decided, reaching to take his hoodie. Their fingers grazed briefly, lightly, as she took it.

"Thanks, Spellman." She was short with it, to the point. If there was one thing an RDA girl didn't do, it was get sappy.

Hesitantly, she slipped the sweatshirt on, it fitting close around her arms. As she zipped it up, she could feel his body heat, still contained within the jacket. Although she wasn't actually that cold to begin with, Trudy felt a sudden warmth that she hadn't before.

"Listen," Norm broke into the silence, "if you heard anything that I was saying before, on the video, I don't want you to think that I'm mad at Jake."

Her brow lowered, "Mad?"

"Yeah," assuming that she had heard him, he continued, "if anything, I'm just kind of out of it. It's not that I'm …resentful or anything of him doing this. I just wish it included all of us."

Me, he thought. I want this to include me.

The pilot's eyes wandered to the window in the main door, the night and the rain so thick it was near impossible to see anything. Her SA-2 was out there, just as stuck as she was.

"Should try and get some sleep," she told him, eyes still at the window, "That hellhole out there waits for no one."

He guffawed sarcastically. "Sleep, yeah. That's going to happen, thanks."

She was slightly taken aback with Norm's carping remark, at odds with a reply to the scientist. Norm arched his lanky figure forward, so as to rest his arms on the desk, folded tightly. Trudy leaned back, propping herself into a sitting position on the desk's edge. He had looked away from her, down to his haggard shoes.

Not many of their personal items were in decent condition anymore. Jackets were beginning to appear tattered, backpacks ragged. His sweatshirt that Trudy was currently in, though, he'd made a point to only wear when inside; it was a nice hoodie, and was still in great condition for him having brought it all the way from Earth. He wouldn't have offered it to her, had it been overused or worn. Norm was feeling the chill of their station now; keeping the place at a low temperature was a requirement for the machinery to function properly. He was tired, his body heat that had been contained by the hoodie now gone – something she didn't have to know.

"Hey," Trudy's tone had changed, becoming sharper. "You're not the only one dealing with all this. At least you're a part of this integration, this 'team'. I've never had that, Spellman. Flying out here is a solo job; just you and whatever kind of backbone you can muster. And I'm not even doing that, anymore. What good am I out here, huh?"

Norm gave an impatient scoff, his head still turned away. "How should I know? It's not like you'd even bother to tell me these things."

She stared at him now, a bitter misunderstanding fueling her words. "With you – they need you here. You don't see it, but I do. There isn't a second you don't have your nose into something important. You know how to link up the Avatars, how to speak the language, you have a doctoral degree - you even know when to be a gentleman, dammit, 'cause I can guarantee you're freezing your ass off right this second. Don't think that I forgot you left your RDA coat on the Samson. "

The pilot's indignant words were left hanging. It was her dark gaze that flickered away, now.

Quietly, Norm met her eyes.

"You knew all of that?" he nearly whispered, shocked. "You knew all that about me?" He was searching her features now, as if her expression might foretell some sort of answer before she did.

With a very controlled indifference, she shrugged, "It's not that hard to pick up on things, I guess." Not when you've been itching to know for two months.

Norm blinked, completely oblivious. He was still processing what she had initially said. She had called him a gentleman, and she knew so much – so much that he'd never even told her. A thin smile crept at the corners of his mouth, and he looked down.

The rain outside had lightened considerably; the storm must have nearly been past, the drizzle lightly whispering outside, around them. The pair looked up, noticing the change together.

"Well," Trudy nearly laughed at the timing, "think I'll try and get some sleep then. Uh, here, just a sec -" Her fingers went to the zipper of the sweatshirt; she began to undo it, intending on handing it back.

And then all at once, his hand was on top of hers, stopping her short. Norm, who had dashed forward – standing now - in one unplanned movement, emotionally recoiled as her surprised expression met his own.

"I-" he stuttered, hovering closely, "Keep it. You – you can keep it."

She loosened her grip on the fabric of his hoodie, her fingers regressing more into his. Trudy let her head fall, looking down at their hands. She laughed, tiredly, unable to hide a grin.

"C'mon, Spellman, I'm tougher than that. And you're cold – your hands," she argued, pressing his long fingers into her grip. He drifted towards her with her touch, and she gave a short laugh again, nervous. The fingers of their touching hands slid together apprehensively, neither of them looking directly to each other. Norm carefully placed his free hand at her side, on the desk.

"I guess I'm not so cold anymore," he emptied his lungs heavily, breath intermingling with hers. At that moment, Trudy looked up.

Caged bird, this is your chance.

Decidedly - and with force - she closed the minimal space between them, frenziedly compressing her mouth to his.

Norm's brow shot up as he drew in a breath of shock through his nose, his eyes blinking in disbelief. Trudy, holding one of his hands tight, grasped around his collar and drew him closer with the other. He stumbled forward, against the desk. The scientist eased into the kiss, letting his scruffy face press against her soft skin. He moved his hand from the table's surface gently to the small of her back, and she urged him closer, softly running fingers through his outgrown hair.

When they both pulled away, laborious breaths heated against one another, Norm looked to Trudy as bewildered as he first had. It was completely finally clear as what he had been missing all along. He pressed his forehead to hers, wordlessly grinning. Despite their somber differences, Norm had found what he was looking for - unavoidably pounding in his enamored chest.

Trudy's heart was fluttering dangerously, adrenaline rushing. There was only one other way she could achieve such a feeling – the one way she had trained for years to reach.

Flying, a smile encompassing her soft features, he makes me feel like I'm flying.

#trudy x norm #trudy chacon #norm spellman #Trudy/norm #Na'vi!Norm Spellman #na'vi!norm #Na’vi!Trudy Chacon #na'vi!trudy #recom trudy #Recom Trudy Chacon

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bribe-the-door · 3 years

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Don’t Blame the Drunk Calling [1]

the one where you’re harry’s roommate and you both have messy dating lives

a/n: hello sweetest babes!!! it’s han -- i know i haven’t been writing much fo anything for ... like a year now? but we’re BACK! we are back and kicking!!! this is the beginning of something i’d like to continue so ... stay tuned :) ily! <3

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“What are you smiling about?” you asked, sarcasm lingering in the tone of your voice.

Harry sat opposite of you, legs curled up under himself. His face glowed from both the light of his phone screen and the words being sent his way. Watching his lips twitch into a smile made your own stomach churn.

He remained quiet as he typed; the clicks of his keyboard and the whoosh! of a sent text served as a response to your question.

“Well?” you pressed.

Your second attempt hung in the air between you two. He chuckled under his breath and continued to scroll through his phone, probably looking for an emoji of somesort.

“Hm?” Harry’s eyes never left his phone.

You sighed, voice quiet. “Nevermind.”

He looked up at the change in cadence, shaking his head as if to refocus himself. His phone was then turned over on its face, a silent promise of ‘I’m listening’.

“What is it?”

It was your turn to bite at your lip now, except this wasn’t in a flirty way. Or a smirking way. There was nothing cute about the jealousy you so fervently tried to hide on a daily basis, living with the boy who stole your heart last summer.

And then promptly stomped it into the ground.

“Y/n,” he interrupted your self-spiral. “What?”

You shrugged it off as if you hadn’t been the one to press in the first place. “I don’t know, it’s just my job as your best friend to pester you about the new girl in your life.”

Harry’s eyes widened, a nervous laugh following in suit. “The new what?”

“Isn’t that why you’re smirking at your phone?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

You narrowed your eyes in his direction, wishing for laser-vision or something of the like.

He pursed his lips, pondering. “Her name’s Elise, not that you’d care to know.”

Elise.

The pounding of your heart sped up and simultaneously grew quiet as it fell into your stomach.

She wasn’t the first, after the both of you… you know.

There was Brie, Anna, the girl you only saw once because she snuck out in the middle of the night, then Sage, most recently Elisabeth.

And now Elise.

“Y/n?” He asked again.

“What?”

He paused, holding onto your gaze for mere seconds too long. “Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? Of a girl I haven’t met? That you’ll probably bring here for a few dates and then hook up?” The words steamrolled from your lips. “Not everything is about sex, you know.”

Harry bit back a laugh, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Sounds exactly like someone who needs to get laid would say.”

Your mouth fell open with a spread of embarrassment across your cheeks. “What the hell--!”

Harry stood quickly, throwing another taunting smirk in your direction. “I’ll leave you with that to ponder. I, on the other hand, have a date.”

You muttered a string of curse words under your breath, bidding him farewell and silently hoping he’d stub his toe on the way out.

“We’ll try to be quiet tonight, you know, when I’m getting laid.”

“Oh fuck off!” A throw pillow was, accurately named, and launched in his direction. His laughter could be heard even once he was down the hall to his room.

Maybe he was right.

*** It had been a while since… you know. It had happened. And you wished that period of absence was lesser than, but given the way things were working these days, it wasn’t something to depend on. Your own relationship with hookups and casual dating wasn’t anything to boast aboutーthey were few and far between (when they did happen).

You preferred to keep to yourself; nights spent alone with a good show and a glass of wine far more filled your fancy than any night with a stranger, but lately, you’d been feeling rather lonely. Like you wanted to be needed.

Desired.

Even if just for a moment (or hour, or so).

Harry had long since left the living room and you sat in silence, pondering. The buzz of an earlier glass of wine lingered in your head and only encouraged your decision to open the dreaded app on your phone.

Your profile, carefully curated with pictures of you laughing with friends, moody mirror selfies, and a screenshot of a fuckboy’s attempt to slide in your DMs (as a warning of what not to do), sat vacant for a few months now. There were a few unread messages in your inbox and you deleted them all. It was time to start over.

All to prove Harry wrong.

Swiping like it was a video game, you matched and matched and super-liked anyone to your liking. Bryan, Timothy, a few Chrises, some guy named “T”, they all piled up somewhere on the internet as your next potential fling. It only took a few minutes on this dull Saturday night for Chris #3 to message you.

“Hey cutie” was all that you earned from your search, and you played along, wine helping your case.

Chris didn’t keep your attention long, though, and you continued swiping out of boredom. It was then that you swiped to Aly’s profile.

It was a curious feeling, the way your heart rushed to a rapid beat in your chest. Pausing, you studied over her face in the first picture. Then the second. And the third, fourth, and fifth, too.

How did…

You tapped to the settings of your Tinder app, confused. Indeed, it was set to “Everyone”. When this happened, you were unsure. Maybe Harry had gotten a hold of your phone one Wine Wednesday and changed it as a prank. (Not that it really was a prank…).

You peered over your phone sheepishly, as if you were expecting Harry to jump out from behind the couch and cause a scene. Like you were somehow 13 again, hiding from your parents and reading Seventeen magazine. A slow burn flourished over your cheeks, ignited by the juvenile sparks in your chest.

You pressed the settings button again, biting your lip as you did so. It wasn’t as ceremonious as you were making it out to be, but your body had other plans.

Women only.

The checkmark sealed the deal, and that was that.

A new kind of rush filled your ribcage, holding back the beating of your heart that very likely could be heard from across the room. You swiped back to the main screen, Aly’s profile still front and center. Carefully hovering over the picture of her face, you paused before swiping right.

To your surprise, it highlighted in blue and showed your pictures together.

“Matched!” it said in a celebratory font.

Your phone hung in your hand absent-mindedly as you sat, sinking further into the couch. Does this mean something? You wondered. Am Iー?

Before you could answer, your phone vibrated in your hand.

A single “1” shone like a beacon over the Messages tab in the app. Something told you it wasn’t Chris #3 trying to redeem himself from earlier.

Aly’s name was illuminated at the top of your screen, her profile picture shrunk down to fit the small space but her smile was still just as friendly. Your heart picked up in its cadence, thudding prominently in your chest.

It’s just a girl, y/n, you thought to yourself. It’s just a girl, on a dating app, that I matched with.

Aly: Hi :)

Okay, simple. Concise. Not a lot to work with but certainly not a lot to get worked up over, either. Your fingers danced over the screen, going back and forth between the “Hey” with a smiley or a “What’s up?” and a wink. Was a wink too forward? What if you responded with the same thing she sent. Would she think you’re an amateur? That you don’t know how to talk to girls?

Aly: Are you from around here? Your third picture is from the Firefly, right?

You paused again, rethinking everything.

You: Hey! I am, the Firefly is my go-to. You?

Send.

It was almost instantly Aly sent a response, excited someone else was familiar with her favorite spot, too.

Had you ever crossed paths?

The conversation flowed between the two of you seamlessly, your anxiety fading away as Aly provided most of the questions and seemed eager to talk. Before you knew it, an hour had gone by and you’d ignored a few other texts to talk to this random stranger.

Harry had sent a few, one was the link to a tiktok, one of those “the person who sent you this…” (it was about food; how typical) and a text reminding you he’d be bringing Elise home tonight. He made sure to remind you that he ‘apologized in advance for the noise’ and that he’d ‘make it up to you’.

Aly sent another message, the banner across the top of your screen pulling your attention from Harry’s attempt at pushing your buttons.

Aly: You down to get drinks sometime?

The butterflies started their rampage in your belly all over again, this time much more intensely than the last.

She wanted to get drinks? Already?

You weighed your options: one; drinks with a hot girl at Firefly or two; get wine and bring it back to your apartment while Harry had this Elise girl over.

There was nothing to lose with your offer, so you swiftly typed out a suggestion and hit send without second thought.

You: Wanna come to mine and drink some wine? I just baked banana bread :)

Her response was immediate, a quality you quite admired about Aly: she was bold and brave, exactly the opposite of yourself.

Aly: Red or white? ;)

***

The moments before Aly was slated to arrive were the longest of your life. If you’d thought your heart was beating quickly before, this was overdrive. You shared your address, along with the promise of baked goods, and waited.

A soft knock at your door sent your feet flying to the entryway. You brushed the hair from your forehead and fidgeted with the buttons on your flannel, and with one more deep breath, you unlocked the deadbolt.

Aly was shorter than you, only by a few inches, but her bold eyes drew you right in. She smiled, sly and curious, offering the black plastic bag of wine before greeting you.

“Hi.”

Her salutation hung in the air between you as you took her in. She was just like her pictures and she drew you in all the same as she had on Tinder.

“Hey,” you answered, taking the bag from her outstretched hand. “Come in?”

You stepped back to allow her to shuffle past you, her coat already coming off before the door shut behind the two of you.

“This is cozy,” she said. “Just you?”

“No, I have a roommate. He’s bringing someone home tonight, supposedly.”

She chuckled, “Interesting living with a guy, huh?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

You took her coat and tossed it over a dining table chair. Aly had already made herself at home on the couch, opposite of the corner you normally staked out as your own. She continued to look around, biting back a smile every so often.

The string lights around the crown molding illuminated her face with a soft orange glow as she took everything in. She tossed her phone aside, arms outstretched across the sofa behind her. Her smile was everything, and you almost forgot why she was even here.

“Do you, uh, want me to open this?” You nodded toward the bag in your hand, its weight bringing you back into the moment.

Aly nodded, “Want me to come with?”

“Sure.”

She pushed off of the couch to follow you into the small kitchen, finding a spot in front of the sink. It was comfortable having her here, the way she just ‘fit’ in without even trying. Like it wasn’t new territory for her.

Her arms were folded in front of her chest and she watched you intently.

Aly had bought both red and white, taking your answer of “depends on the day” a bit literally.

“So…,” she started, stepping in closer. “What’s your story?”

“Hm?”

“You know,” Aly laughed, “Why’re you on Tinder?”

Luckily you were searching through the silverware drawer when she asked, intent set on finding the corkscrew. “Just a 24-year-old thing to do, isn’t it?”

“Not really.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you sighed, turning to face her. “My roommate and I have a bit of a bet going.”

Aly raised an eyebrow, asking you to continue. You found the corkscrew and shut to the drawer with your hip, shyly turning back toward the counter with the wine to divert the attention from yourself.

“It’s stupid. He’s … he’s a bit of a player.”

“Okay, and?”

So she wasn’t going to let this go. “He brings a lot of girls home, and I don’t bring many guys home.”

The bottle of red popped! open and you set the corkscrew aside. You felt Aly step in closer behind you, offering a glass from the counter.

“I’m not a guy, though.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, feeling the warmth returning to your cheeks. Your tone shifts, voice getting quieter. “You’re not.”

“So what does that mean?”

You hand her a glass, generously full of the deep red alcohol, and shrug. “I’m not sure. What does that mean?”

She cocks her head to the side and smirks again. You’re painfully aware of how she licks her lips before speaking, and watched intently as she took a sip of the wine.

“Do you want it to mean something?”

“Well I mean,” you stammer over your words, “If you want it to mean something?”

Aly stepped toward you, closing in on the space between the lot of you. Her glass is raised, she nods in your direction, and you tap your glass to hers. You both take another sip and she waits to respond.

“I think it would be fun, you know. For it to mean something,” she shrugged. “I mean, isn’t that why you invited me over?”

Your eyes grew wide and you laughed nervously. “I didn’t think it would actually work.”

“Wouldn’t work? Oh, baby,” Aly shook her head, “I knew from the moment I saw your picture that I wasn’t going to just let you go.”

Baby. Your head swirled with thoughts, overwhelmed to say the least. “Sorry, I, uh,” you giggled to yourself again, flustered. The sip you intended to take was more of a gulp, and then another.

Aly joined your laughter, touching your shoulder in efforts to console you. “Was that too forward of me? I’m sorry, I forget that this is new for some people.”

“How’d you know?”

“You’ve been picking at your nails since the moment I got here and talking at the speed of light,” Aly leaned back against the sink. “You’re an open book, y/n.”

She took a long drink from her glass, now half empty, and stood silently.

“An open book, hm?”

“Yep. Totally.”

You paused for a second, the wine in-hand going down much faster than you anticipated. “What else do you know about me then?”

Aly’s eyes widened, a smile creeping up on her face. “Let me see.”

It was your turn to lean back against the counter and wait for what she had to say. Her eyes sized you up and down, and she hummed a “hmm…” just for good measure.

“Shy. But only when you don’t know her well. Confident, but that’s mostly with the help of wine. This roommate? You like him, at least a little. But you’re on Tinder… matching with women? Interesting character development in my book at least.”

You shook your head, embarrassed at the impressive correctness that she boasted in her assumptions. “Mostly right.”

“Only mostly?”

“Yeah,” you hid behind another sip of wine, “You forgot about the part where I’m really into you.”

“Oh,” Aly reached behind her to place the now-empty glass on the counter, stepping closer to you once more. “You’re really into me?”

You nodded.

She took another step in. “How much?” Her voice was nearly a whisper.

You could hardly hear her, over the hammering of your heart, but your brain was busy working up a witty response.

“How much, baby?” Aly pressed.

She was dangerously close to you now, only inches from your face. The mention of you being ‘confident’ but ‘mostly with the help of wine’ was no truer than in this moment, and you didn’t answer her with words. But instead, a kiss.

Aly didn’t hesitate to kiss back, hardly leaving you the time to place your wine glass (empty, too) on the counter. She leaned into you and wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer. She knew exactly what she was doing.

It was just like kissing boys, you quickly realized, except this felt better. Aly led, moving her lips in synchrony with yours that, once you two found a balance that worked, made your head spin. The butterflies in your stomach morphed into something more; less about the nerves and more about the want.

You didn’t care about anything in this momentー

ーWhich was exactly when you heard the front door slam shut.

“Y/n!” Harry called out from the entryway. You heard his keys hit the table, along with another thud and the low murmurs of another voice.

Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck.

“Y/n!” He called again, “Are you evenー?”

He rounded the corner as you pushed out from behind Aly’s grasp, her own surprise catching up with her.

“Oh my god,” you whispered, quickly changing directions to face Harry. “Hi, yes, I’m here.”

Harry eyed you, clearly seeing the person behind you. “Hi…”

“Um, Harry,” you paused, stepping aside to bring Aly into view. “This is Aly.”

Aly spoke up from behind you: “Yeah, I know.”

You turned on your heel. “What?”

Harry hadn’t said anything since seeing Aly and remained quiet in the doorway of the kitchen. He raked a hand through his curls and stared at the ground.

“Hi, Harry.” Aly said, her tone laced with awkwardness.

Oh.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Aly.”

Oh, no.

“Do you…?”

“Yeah,” they both answered in unison.”

“...know each other.”

________________________________________________

part two coming soon!

#i'm so nervous about this lmao #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fan fic #harry styles reader insert #fan fic #lgbtq #fanfic #original writing #one direction fan fic #one direction imagine #writing

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

Can u do a headcanon or fic as part 2 for that mc has a musical talent one where ethan gets a keyboard for her birthday?😊

For anon, @thegreentwin and @lucy-268 ❤

Read Part 1 here.

Music & Secrets (Part 2)

Ethan and Bryce arrived at Odette and the gang’s shabby, yet homely, garden apartment early. They came separately but showed up together. Well, actually, Ethan made it to the building’s front door 2 minutes before his gym acquaintance. The attending was struggling to type in the code, open the door, and balance the birthday gift all at once. Bryce noticed Ethan’s struggle and jogged to help him get through the front door, offering to share the weight of the juggled present teetering in his arms.

Ethan gratefully relented as the two most important men in Odette’s life navigated through the corridors to the familiar, ajar apartment door.

“Dirty 30!” Bryce exclaimed ceremoniously over the expertly wrapped package he helped Ethan haul into the apartment.

The roommates looked to Bryce, to Ethan, then down to the ridiculously long gift wrapped in duck egg blue and white stripped paper with a comically dainty bow placed in the uppermost corner.

“Why’s it so big!?” Elijah asked, deep brown eyes gleaming at the possibilities.

Bryce shrugged and plopped his side of the weighted rectangular object onto the scuffed wood floor carefully. He bounded over to the kitchen to peck Odette on the cheek and grab a beer from the fridge, making himself right at home like always.

Now left alone, hovering in the foyer, Ethan took to placing the package carefully against the wall, then busying himself by rubbing his palms down the front of his button down shirt to expel any creases. It’s not like he hasn’t interacted with this group of colleagues before - they’ve got to know one another rather well over the last two years - but there was something different about being one of the carefully selected individuals invited to their home for a party.

Not just any party.

Odette’s birthday party.

Never had they celebrated a milestone together before.

As Ethan shifted in place he wondered if he really should be here, if he should have really gotten such an ostentatious gift. She didn’t ask for it - what if it was a mistake?

Should’ve just gotten a card and some flowers. Lahela’s gift fit in the pocket of his jacket. That’s more representative of our friendship. Right?

Before Ethan could run a marathon of doubt Odette moved to greet him, eyeing the parcel resting to his right, then looking him up and down - noting how something about him was uncharacteristically shy. They - Odette, the gang, and Ethan - have worked together for over three years, at the very least they were all pub friends, there was no reason why he should feel so out of place in such a warm, loving, environment.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” she said softly with a private smile as soon she she was situated a mere two steps before him.

Just like the calming salt-filled breeze wafting off the Bay and up to his balcony, the air around Odette had Ethan’s rigid shoulders rounding, jaw loosening, entire body enraptured.

“I know.”

The corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

Their eyes - deep azure and sparking emerald - met, speaking volumes they wouldn’t dare say out loud. The animalistic side of him fought to ogle her in that new strappy turquoise dress that accentuated her long legs and curvy waist, fabric pleating effortlessly around her salaciously round hips, and - dear god - the bodice fitted all too well and Ethan would need to swallow the offending lump forming in his throat. The overbearing, and commanding part of Ethan Ramsey fixated on her naturally painted features, waiting for one of them to make the next move.

Sienna got there first, breaking the moment the two diagnosticians were having. “What is it!?”

Ethan took a half step back and made a motion to the present with an invitingly raised brow. Odette’s eyes glowed a shade of enticing light green Ethan had never seen before. That in itself was worth it; he convinced himself in that moment that her reaction to the actual object could not supersede the bemused and satisfied lightness he was feeling right now.

Odette couldn’t help herself. Her hands reached the paper even before her feet could follow. Dropping to her knees, filed nails tore the wrapping paper right off as unladylike as possible - not a single care for the purposefully chosen decoration.

She’d only gotten a fifth of the way through before she recognized the logo on the box underneath and froze in place.

No. It couldn’t be.

Odette’s neck craned ever so slowly, turning to Ethan who’s lips pulled into the most genuine smile she’s ever seen on him.

She had no words; mauve painted lips parted, only the most necessary of breaths leaving her lungs, emeralds glassing over. She knew Ethan was wealthy and enjoyed spending money on those in his life. But this was too much.

Much too much of a gift for a good friend.

Odette turned back to the most thoughtful gift she’s ever received. Her jaw slacked further and her big eyes barely blinked as she gawped at it.

“Shall I place this in your room?”

All Odette could do was nod.

Ethan helped her back onto her feet before lifting the package and making his way down the corridor he’d gotten accustomed to over the last few years. Late nights and nightcaps spent in the living room, and early mornings he’d stop by to force her out of bed for a case or to join him for the rest of his jog.

When he was out of sight and most certainly hearing range, the gaggle of doctors shared the exact same look. Sienna the only one to whisper-exclaim; “Oh my god!” through her grin.

Odette bit her lip, not sure of what to make of the moment. Her thoughts were blank, yet her chest was fluttering faster than she could keep count. She glanced between all her friends’ elated and encouraging faces for any semblance of the explanation she was too stunned to come up with. The only sentiment she found was an astounding wordless command: Go with him!

Odette rose her brows. Took a deep breath. Then turned on the balls of her bare feet, making her way to her bedroom where her dearest friend was waiting.

Before rounding the corner to her open bedroom, Odette took one more cleansing breath and shook her head. There was no reason to feel so discombobulated; this is Ethan!

They’ve been through so much and have become the closest of friends. Why is she getting knots in her stomach and a lightness in her chest at the thought of being alone with him right now?

When she entered, Ethan was sat at the edge of her bed, hunched over with forearms resting on his thighs, intently reading through the assembly instructions. His baby blues were squinted and she could pick out nearly all of the lines and divots usually carefully masked with his signature stoic expression. She couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at the sight.

“You should start carrying your readers, old man.” He was only a few months shy of the big 4-0.

“I wouldn’t need to if they didn’t print it impossibly small.”

She sauntered over and gently snatched the booklet from his hands. Her eyes roamed over the packet. And of course;

“You’ve got a point.”

She handed the booklet back to him, her attention caught by the fully opened box propped up next to her pillows. The ivory-looking keys glittered back at her, and the fifteen year old prodigy she thought she’d long suppressed begged to break free.

Ethan couldn’t help but watch her ogle the object. Her freshly painted fingers barely grazing the keys as if she’s afraid or shocked or... he’s not really sure what to make of it. All he knew was that she was holding herself up straighter than five minutes ago.

“Is this the right one? The saleswoman said it’s the perfect compact option that doesn’t compromise on quality.”

There was a bated pause. Only a beat before she responded - thought he knew her well enough to know her mind was elsewhere than she’d let on.

“It’s perfect,” the words came out breathy. Odette tore her eyes from the piano to smile at him, “Just unexpected.”

The two of them spent the next forty minutes building the keyboard stand with the allen key Ethan absolutely detested, and the foldable stool she had to scower around for the tiny toolbox her older brother made sure she kept on hand. Then eventually they cleared some space from under her window so she could bask in the natural light while playing to her hearts content.

Ethan put on the final touches by pinning back her curtains for a better view of the small plot of greenery her bedroom was fortunate to overlook. He took a step back to be at her side. The two of them admiring how the dark colors of the keyboard contrasted with the whites of her minimal décor, yet looked so perfectly at home - like it was always meant to be there.

Like it was always meant to be in her life.

Funny how that thought crept up on him. It’s exactly how Ethan felt about Odette. He may have adamantly refused her friendship their first 15-months, but he always knew she was special. For a man that didn’t believe in higher powers, that .01% has come to accept his need for her in his life.

He’d never know she feels the same way about him.

With the grand gesture illuminated by the mid-autumn rays, Odette took a magnetic step forward. Sitting down on the stool, her hips wiggled in the seat to test out its comfort level. Satisfied, her fingers began hovering a waltz over the keys, still so hesitant to touch them. It’s been nearly a decade since she’s last let her emotions wistfully speak for her.

“Go on, try it out.” Ethan’s gentle baritone cadence urged, knowing she’s dying to without her having to say it. She had that look on her face that he knew all too well - that glassy, dazed expression that meant her mind was moving faster than her muscles could comprehend.

Odette’s front teeth sunk into her lip, angling herself away from him as much as possible and wishing she didn’t ask Sienna to put her hair into an artistic bun. This would be so much easier if her bleached blonde locks could curtain her from her onlooker.

Ethan stepped back to sit on her bed and give her space.

She took another breath. Shallower this time as the fear, excitement and desperation began to culminate in her fingertips.

The pad of her thumb grazed E, the ivory warm to the touch and the sensation not as distanced as she expected. Even though she hadn’t elicited a single sound from the instrument the key rang in her ears. Her other hand came into place. A single cord beckoned for her attention. Odette pressed lightly, enough for the note to sing from the speakers. Her lips turned upwards. Every new touch coaxed out such sounds that drowned out the rest of the world. Her eyes fluttered shut as the sounds began vibrating off her walls. This room never felt more like home.

And, soon, she began to play.

From memory.

The song she’d have ingrained within her bones forever - the song she demoed that led to her development and publishing deal.

A song Ethan couldn’t place. Didn’t know the tune. A crooked smirk was pulled from him at the thought of her writing something this beautiful. He’s been in awe of Odette Hall for as long as he’s known her, and watching her - getting to experience this secretive side of her - Ethan couldn’t find the appropriate phrase in his elaborate vocabulary to accurately explain just how awestruck he was right now. How he adored everything about her. How he couldn’t fathom never witnessing her play or never solving a case with her ever again.

And as he leaned back on her box spring bed, fingers fisting in the floral patterned duvet and his deep azure eyes hypnotized by his life’s most incredible surprise, he wanted to know so much more.

And as the melody reached the living room, the good-natured group of third-year residents conspired to set a plan in motion.

________________________________________

A/N: In this world, Ethan and MC aren’t and never have dated. Maybe in canon she was on the Raf route? idk. But E and MC have been strictly platonic for three years and the feelings have been growing. Hence the really thoughtful piano and why she trusts him with her secrets more than her friends. They’ve got an attachment and mild codependence brewing ☺

I’m not planning on making this a series but can be persuaded to do another part if y’all want 😅

Masterlist

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @whimsicallywayward15 @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @withbeautyandrage @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious @missmiimiie @uneravine @homeformyheart @choicesaddict5 @iemcpbchoices @red-rookie @sophxwithers

Ethan:

@udishaman @honeyandsunfl0wers @hutchereverlark23 @ohchoices @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy @stygianflood @caseyvalentineramsey @rookieoh @openheartthot @senseofduties @lilyvalentine @tsrookie @kalogh @aworldoffandoms @takemyopenheart @casey-v @ramseyandrys @ethanramseylover @ramseyreader @a-crepusculo @aarisa-frost @shanzay44 @randomperson111

#Anonymous #asked #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #open heart fanfic #choices open heart

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Wraith’s Touch (Yandere Ghost Shigaraki x Reader)

Pairing: Shigaraki x Reader Triggers: Noncon, dubcon, somnophilia, voyeurism, choking, death, yandere. This is seriously dark, so beware. Word Count: 8.5k Note: I blame Cadence for making me thirsty for this idea.

~~~~

There was something creepy about the house, you thought, for what felt like the 50th time today. It was a large, sprawling Victorian style estate, an old house even by your grandmother’s standards. She had lived there alone for years and had refused to move, and she never would tell you why.

You had stayed there before on summer break, when you were a teenager. Although you always adored your grandmother, something about the house itself was unsettling. You felt like you were being constantly watched, felt like things would move around in places where you did not think you had moved them. You thought you saw shadows out of the corners of your eyes, heard strange voices in the middle of the night.

Your grandmother insisted nothing was wrong, that you were simply being paranoid and that she had never experienced anything like what you were describing. You tried very hard to believe her, but it was hard to do that when you saw the worried look in her eyes, the tremble in her voice when she tried to say everything was okay. Ultimately, she made an excuse of you needing to leave quickly, that something had come up. So you had found somewhere else and hadn’t really seen her much after that.

She had died unexpectedly around a month ago, and with no other family to inherit her house and belongings, you were the one chosen to handle everything. You hadn’t been quite as close to your grandmother since that summer at her house, a fact that you bitterly resented now. But anytime you had tried to make plans to come visit, she would always tell you she was too busy and that you’d find another time to get together.

And now you were being willed her house, the one that had so many good memories of your grandmother, but also many unsettling ones. You wish you could be going back to the house in better circumstances.

You lived 2 hours away from where the house was, and it made no sense to continue to stay there and make the drive every day as you sorted through everything in the house. You had broken your lease, explaining about the death, and although your landlord wasn’t happy, he at least wasn’t angry.

Now you are standing outside with a moving van, reminiscing about your past in this house. You sigh and shake your head, before going around to open the back of the van. Your belongings all fit into one small van, since you didn’t have a ton of room in your old apartment. You had left a few things, mostly old furniture, back at the apartment for other people to take if they wanted. This house was huge, and had enough furniture that you wouldn’t need all of your old stuff.

You grab a few boxes from the back of the van and walk to the front door before setting them aside to pull out the keys from your pocket. You take a deep breath before putting the key in the lock and turning it, stepping into the house for the first time in several years.

The feeling of being watched has not gone away since you were last here, the entire entryway feeling just a bit too claustrophobic. The air temperature of the house is cold, your breath puffing out in white clouds. Great, you think to yourself, I bet the air conditioning and heating unit is broken. Will have to remember to call a repairman tomorrow.

You let out a sigh and pick the boxes back up, carrying them into the house. You tried to be efficient with the packing, marking all of the boxes according to what room they went on. These boxes all went to whatever room you would choose as your bedroom.

Your grandmother’s room was technically the master bedroom of the house, but you don’t feel comfortable sleeping in there. So you go down the hall from where her old bedroom was located, and open up the door to where you used to stay.

The room was very similar looking to when you were there before, all the knick knacks and personal items still displayed around the room. The bed was neatly made, and the dresser still had a few small items of clothing that you had forgotten from when you left.

The one difference about the room was how oppressive the air is. It seems to beat down on you, making the room feel like it’s closing in. You had experienced some weird feelings in the house before, but never anything like this. You’re being ridiculous, you scold yourself. This is just a house, and you’re simply missing your grandma.

You shake your head at your thoughts and place the boxes down in the room, before turning around and walking to the door.

As you reach for the doorknob, you hear a strange noise. You whirl your head around, looking through the room again but you see nothing. Old houses make strange noises, you reason with yourself.

And yet you could have sworn it sounded like soft laughter.

~~~~

You collapse in an exhausted heap on the couch. You have finished moving and unpacking the boxes containing your own stuff, and you have started to go through your grandmother’s.

You haven’t even fully re-explored the house yet, and you still have so much to go through. It is much too large for you to consider living in permanently, and you intend to simply sell the house and buy a more modest one with the money from the sale and your inheritance.

But your grandmother had lived here for years, and the house had the accumulation of all that time of collecting items and knick knacks. It was going to take so long for you to go through everything, sorting what to keep and what to sell.

You want to get through this as quickly as possible. The house remains unsettling, and it only seemed to get worse. The atmosphere was still so heavy, almost like a physical presence beating down on you.

The air conditioning and heating repairmen had shown up, only to find nothing wrong. But the house still had strange cold spots throughout, with no explanation for it.

You see shadows out of the corner of your eye, shadows that look people shaped. But when you turn your head around, you see nothing.

Sometimes you think you hear voices, laughter, coming from the dark places deep within the house. It is terrifying, despite how much you try to convince yourself that it’s just the noises of an old house settling.

The final straw was when you were standing on your tiptoes, trying to reach a box from a high shelf. You almost had it when you heard it. A soft whisper in your ear, one that almost sounded like the word “mine.” And then a cold caress, wrapping around your waist.

You startled so hard that you pulled the box entirely off the shelf, leaving it to fall to the floor and smash the contents into pieces. It scared you down to the bones, despite your efforts to rationalize it, to make logical sense of it.

You are so scared, in fact, that you have invited your pro-hero friend to stay the night. He laughed at your fears, promising there was nothing wrong, and that he would be glad to stay with you.

You always had a bit of a crush on him, but it had never amounted to anything. He was busy with his pro-hero job, and you lived a bit too far away for the two of you to see much of each other.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. Finally, you think, he’s running late. You hurry to the door and open it to the face of your friend. He smiles and holds out fast food.

“I figured you were hungry,” he says, before walking into the house.

“I owe you,” you reply, “this house is creepier than I remember.”

“There's nothing wrong, you’re just a scaredy cat with a weak quirk. That’s why I’m here.”

You roll your eyes at his arrogance about his quirk, as you lead him to the room you’ve been using as the living area.

A few hours later, and you find yourself feeling just a bit better about everything. Nothing has happened since your friend arrived, and even the atmosphere has gotten less heavy. You’re both curled up on the couch, stuffed full of food and talking about mindless topics. You’re starting to feel just a bit silly about the whole thing, and you tell him so.

“I told you so,” he chuckles, “anyone would go a bit stir crazy in this house. Plus, you’re still grieving.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” You’re surprised when he scoots closer to you and puts an arm around you, and even more surprised when he grabs your chin to pull you in for a kiss.

You stiffen up for a single second, before melting into the kiss, scooting even closer to him as he wraps his arm around you.

He pulls you into his lap so that he can settle you in between his legs, deepening the kiss as you wrap your arms around him to tangle your hands into his hair.

He grabs your hips, pushing you down onto the hardness you can feel in his pants. The friction of it has you gasping and grinding down harder, trying to get friction on your clit.

He reaches down to the hem of your shirt, pulling it off of you before kissing a line down the column of your neck and occasionally sucking at the skin.

You are just starting to get into when it abruptly stops. You glance down at him only to see his eyes blown wide open, staring at something behind you. You turn around to look and see an antique mirror.

You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he lets out a scream and shoves you off his lap. You land on the floor in a dazed heap. “Oh god, the mirror, look at the mirror!,” his voice comes out in a purely panicked tone.

You glance back and still see only a mirror. “It’s just a mirror, I don’t see anything.”

“...you don’t see him?”

“See who? You’re not making any sense!”

“There’s a man,” he whispers in a low tone, like he thought the man would hear him, “and he looks so pissed.”

“You just saw a shadow of something,” you try to soothe him, “there’s nothing there.”

“HE’S THERE.” You jump as his voice suddenly gets louder. “Oh fuck, he’s…!” His voice rises into a scream before cutting off. He turns around and starts to run.

You jump up from the floor to follow him and try to calm him back down, but you discover he’s gone already as you see the front door wide open. “So much for the big, tough hero,” you mutter to yourself.

You walk back to the living room to take one last look at the mirror. You still see nothing, and yet a shiver runs down your back as you feel like someone is staring at you. And that someone is darkly amused.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, rolling over onto your other side with full intention of falling back to sleep. But you realize something feels weird. Everything feels hazy, like this is no longer your world. You open your eyes and look around, only to be shocked by what you see.

Your bedroom is entirely different. It simultaneously looks newer than the room you went to sleep in, but also significantly more old fashioned. Like you were shot back into the past of the house.

The room feels heavy and oppressive, and you feel the telltale weight of someone watching you that you’ve felt ever since you came back to the house. This time though, the energy feels eager, gleefully malicious. Like it’s won something.

You startle a bit when you notice another significant difference to the room. There is no door. No windows. The places where they’re supposed to be are nothing but blank walls. No way out of this room.

It’s with that discovery that the realization finally hits you. A dream, you think, I’m simply dreaming. A vivid dream, you reason with yourself, but still ultimately a dream. You relax a bit with this knowledge, until a shimmer appears beside you.

You spin your head around in time to see a man materialize out of nowhere, right beside the bed. He is on the tall side, with light blue hair that almost appears silver and eyes that are a striking red. He’s wearing black jeans and a black hoodie, with red shoes. He has his hands stuffed into his hoodie pocket, although for some reason his pinkies are sticking out of the side of the pocket. He looks strangely indistinct, blurry around the edges, almost as if he’s see-through and not truly part of this world.

You glance up into his red eyes and are frightened by what you see in their depths. There’s a darkness there, a terrible obsession you can barely even comprehend. Just a dream, you remind yourself, whoever this is can’t do anything.

“Just a dream, huh?” His face breaks out into a smirk. Your heart drops into your stomach as you realize he read your mind. Of course he can read your mind, you reprimand yourself, this is your own dream in your own head.

“Does this feel like a dream?” He reaches towards you, ice cold fingers trailing up your arm and leaving goosebumps in their wake. It feels incredibly real, and you shiver a bit at the contact. You wonder why you’re dreaming about someone you have never met. And why it feels like you know this man anyway, on a deep level beyond anything you have ever felt.

“Because you do know me.” His fingers slide even further up your arm, reaching your face. He grabs your chin and leans in.

You try to pull away from his hand, to shake your head no, but he simply tightens his grip. “You’re wrong, I don’t know you,” you hiss out, “so I don’t even know why I’m dreaming about you.”

“My name is Tomura Shigaraki.” The name strikes a cord within you, as if you knew it already, as if you’ve waited your whole life simply to hear it again. “And I have waited for you for a long time.”

He leans in to capture your lips with his own, surprising you with how cold his mouth is as he forces his tongue into your mouth before you can protest. It’s a sloppy, possessive kiss, more about claiming than any sense of romance. He pulls away from the kiss.

“You’re here because you belong to me,” he whispers, only to begin kissing down your jawline, planting open mouth kisses down your neck. “And you have been from the second I saw you.”

He licks and bites at your collarbones, before finally getting to the point where your nightshirt covers your skin. He grabs the front with his hand, and you watch in horror as it begins to turn to ash, flecks of it flying away. You notice he used all five of his fingers, and suddenly realize why he had been keeping his pinkies up.

He goes further down, kissing and licking down your chest, before getting to your breasts. He kneads one in his hand, pinching the nipple between his fingers, before taking the other nipple into his mouth and sucking. He switches off, taking the other nipple into his mouth also, sucking and twisting them until they’re both hard.

He reaches for your pajama pants, grabbing and decaying them like he did your top. You wear no bra or panties for bed, so you’re left bare and exposed to him. He chuckles darkly as his fingers run lower, swiping down your folds. “You’re so wet for me, pet,” he purrs into your ear, “it seems you missed me just as much as I missed you.” You feel like you should be embarrassed, but it seems silly to be embarrassed in your own dream.

He laughs before leaning back just enough to pull his hoodie over his head, tossing it aside. His pants and shoes follow quickly, and you can’t help but glance down. He is impressively thick, and already painfully hard, a bead of pre-cum already at the tip.

If this is a dream, you reason with yourself, then there’s really nothing wrong enjoying this, now is there? A smirk graces Shigaraki’s face. “You’re right, pet,” he coos, “it’s just a dream, so enjoy the pleasure.”

He grabs your thighs tightly, this time with his middle fingers raised, squeezing down so hard that you know there would be bruises if this wasn’t a dream. He spreads them apart roughly, before glancing down to look at your now exposed pussy. Now you do feel embarrassment, squirming a bit to try and close your legs, but he only digs his fingers even harder into the skin of your thighs.

“Don’t try to hide from me,” he growls in warning, before diving into your pussy with his tongue. He licks all the way up your folds, taking a hand and spreading them apart. He pushes his tongue up into your passage, tongue fucking you as his nose nudges against your clit and causing you to squirm.

“Please,” you whine, as you push into him harder, seeking more stimulation, which he’s quick to give to you.

He wastes no time collecting your slick with two of his fingers, pushing them into you roughly. The cold of his fingers inside of you causes you to gasp. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking as his tongue presses down hard on it. You let out a mewl, feeling your end approaching fast. It’s like everything feels so much sharper in this dream, as if you feel even more than usual.

He curves his fingers up, brushing against that spongy spot inside of you, and that’s enough to push you over the edge. You gasp as you clench down hard around his fingers, and Shigaraki doesn’t stop his relentless movements. He continues to suck your clit through your orgasm, tasting your release on his tongue as his fingers drill into your now soaking pussy. He coaxes you into a second directly after your first, causing you to squeal and go limp as your head falls back onto your pillow.

“Such a good girl for me.” He sits up with a dark smile on his face. “But since we’re so familiar with each other now, why don’t you call me Tomura?” You lift your head up and glance at him, but he’s simply giving you a neutral look while waiting for your response. You see no harm in it, so you shrug. “I guess I can do that.”

His eyes flash as he hears you agree, and a smile crosses his face. “Good, because I want that name to be the one you scream once I’m inside of you.” You shiver at his words, excitement rising up in you. Sad that it’s been so long since you’ve gotten laid that you’re excited for dream sex, you muse to yourself. You hear a snicker from beside you and choose to ignore it.

You feel the bed sink down a little, as Tomura climbs into bed with you. He puts one hand on each side of your head, straddling you on the bed. You are surprised to see that he looks more solid, less as if you can see all the way through him.

He leans down to claim your mouth again, this kiss no less passionate than the last one. He kisses you as if he means to dominate your mouth with his own, hand coming up to tighten slightly on your throat.

He nudges your legs a bit further apart with his thigh before settling himself fully in between them. He reaches between your bodies to pump his painfully hard cock in his fist, rubbing it up your soaking folds to nudge against your tender clit. “Tell me you want it, pet,” he whispers in your ear.

You let out a loud whine, trying to grind yourself down on his cock. He responds by grabbing your waist tightly, holding you firmly in place. “I can stay here forever until you beg,” a dark look crosses his face, “what about you?”

You whimper and push against his hold, still trying to impale yourself on him to get some relief for your aching pussy. “You’re so needy.” He leans down to nip at your neck, causing you to lift up your chin to give him better access. “I can help you with that.” He begins to suck on your skin, hard enough that it would leave hickies in any other circumstance.

He reaches down to your soaked folds, collecting your juices and using them to rub tight circles across your clit. You let out a moan of pleasure at finally getting his fingers where you want them. You let out a long, plaintive whine when he stops suddenly. “Please,” you finally open your mouth to say.

“Please, what,” he smirks, “I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”

“Please touch me again,” you try to rub yourself against his fingers to get more stimulation. He completely pulls away, only to start trailing his fingers down your thigh. “Is this where you want to be touched?”

“No,” you plead, “please touch my pussy. I need you to fuck me.”

His hand continues to trail down your thighs, further away from your heated core. “Hmm, do you think that’s good enough, pet?”

You wrack your brain for what answer he is looking for, before finally settling on “please Tomura, I want you.” For a second, his gaze turns satisfied, calculating, and his shape seems to get even more solid than it was earlier.

You start to wonder why, before he begins to push his length into you, as cold as the rest of him. Then all thoughts are lost by the startling feeling of the cold against your warm walls, the contrast feeling amazing inside of you. You let out a loud mewl at his thickness stretching your pussy out, as he sinks inch by inch inside you.

He lets out a groan of pleasure as he fully sheathes himself inside you, giving a slight pause to kiss down your neck and allow you to adjust to his size. He begins at a slow pace, until he feels you wrap your legs around his back, trying to get him to move faster inside of you. “I need more, Tomura, please,” you beg.

“Who am I to deny you when you beg so cutely,” he chuckles as his pace increases, hips slamming against yours. He leans down to nibble and bite at your nipples as he tweaks the other one between his fingers, alternating between them.

He reaches one hand between your body to start rubbing your clit, causing you to clench hard around his length. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he curses under his breath as he continues to move inside you.

He lifts your hips up a bit to change angle as he continues to slam into you, seeking that spot that he knows will make you come undone around his cock. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your gasps and moans fill the room.

He reaches down to grip your neck without even slowing his pace inside you, still in that same hold he’s been using, with his middle finger raised from your neck. “Admit that you’re mine,” he growls darkly. Your eyes widen at the possessiveness in his tone, a sliver of unease running down your back. You shake your head no, only for him to slam into you all the way to the cervix, pleasure and pain warring inside you.

You begin to feel the room get colder, dropping degree after degree and causing you to shiver from the cold. His grin turns menacing as he puts more pressure on your neck, making it hard to breathe but not enough to cut your air off completely. “Say it,” he hisses, “tell me you’re mine.” One hand of yours flies up to his, intending to try and pry him off. The room starts to spin from lack of oxygen, and you beat your fist against his chest.

He loosens his grip just enough for you to take a huge gasping breath of air. When you say nothing, he moves to put his hands back around your neck. “Wait” you shout. He pauses, his expression turning predatory as he waits for your next words.

Even if this is simply a dream, you can feel the sense of danger from admitting this. You don’t know where this certainty comes from, but you can feel it down to your bones. But you also feel the danger of not admitting it. The two desires war within you, fighting to be the victor.

“I’m yours, Tomura,” you breathed out. His red eyes flash with delight, with a sense of dark triumph that makes you instantly regret your decision to say the words.

“Finally,” he snarled as his hips begin to snap into you again. He is even harder and rougher than before, his hands gripping you tightly as he fucks you with wild abandon. Two fingers reach down to press hard on your clit and you feel another orgasm approaching quickly.

“I want you to say my name as you cum around my cock,” he growls as he changes his angle slightly, the new position causing you to let out a wail as you tighten hard on his cock and dig your heels into his back.

“Fuck, Tomura” you cry out, as liquid fire courses through you. His hips stutter at the feeling of your pussy fluttering around his cock, and he reaches his own end, cold seed flooding into your womb.

You both lay there for a second, trying to catch your breath, when you hear the distant sound of an alarm blaring. He lets out a dangerous growl, clutching you to his chest as if he could prevent the alarm from taking you away from him. “You won’t be getting away from me much longer,” is the last thing you hear before you wake up.

~~~~

You sit bolt upright in bed gasping, still throbbing from the remnants of an orgasm. Your eyes dart around the room, looking for Tomura, only to find nothing. The room is empty, looking the same as it did before you went to sleep. The doors and windows are back, and the suffocating presence you felt before has lessened.

God, that was one intense dream. You had never had such a lucid dream before, one that felt so completely real that it was hard to come to terms with it now that you are awake. You roll over to turn your blaring alarm off and wince in pain. You feel strangely sore, as if you slept wrong in the night. Feeling sweaty and gross, you let out a deep sigh and get up to take a shower.

After your shower, you go back into your bedroom to get dressed. You glance at the floor length mirror as you walk past, before doing a double take and turning back around to look again. You startle a bit when you see that your neck is covered in bruises and hickies. You think back to your friend during your makeout session the other night, and mentally curse him for getting too rough.

But as you glance down, you also see handprints on the side of both of your hips. You stare at them for a long time, trying to place what happened. The asshole grabbed me pretty hard when he threw me off him the other night, you reason. He obviously must have been too rough, and you resolve to admonish him later on the whole incident. You give a silent nod to yourself, confident in your reasoning.

If only you could forget that the handprint bruises have a single finger not visible on your skin.

~~~~

That day passes uneventfully, although you can’t stop thinking of the dream you had. Or the bruises on your neck. Or the handprints with only 4 fingers. You know you’re being ridiculous, that you have a logical explanation for the whole thing. But that doesn’t stop the anxiety, the worry, from building up in you.

You are also unable to reach your friend in order to give him the chewing out that he is desperately owed. You can’t figure out if he’s ignoring you, or just busy, but you’re getting absolutely no response.

You resolve to work on the house more, to distract yourself. You are still going from room to room, organizing things, separating things into keep piles, donation piles, and trash piles. You have finally worked your way into your grandma’s office and library, a place you were never able to go into before.

You stare in wonder the first time you go through those doors, unable to figure out where to look first. The room is huge, and filled with floor to ceiling books. An ornate, antique looking desk sits in the back of the room, and the windows to the left side of the desk let in the sunlight so that the room doesn’t feel overly dark.

I really wish she had let me come in here before, you think, because this room is absolutely amazing. And then reality hits you, as you let out a groan. It’s also going to take me forever to look through all this.

You venture around the library and see a varied mix of books. There is everything from classic literature and non-fiction textbooks to romance and murder mysteries. But then you come to a strange section, closest to her desk. It’s full of books about witchcraft and spells, ghosts and demons, books with titles you can’t even begin to understand and that only hurt your head to try. It’s confusing to you why your grandma would even have some of these books, but you suppose she has a little of everything in this library.

You head to the desk, sitting down in the chair before opening up the drawers. Sitting in the top of the first drawer you open are two things. One is a plain spiral bound notebook. The other is a book about ghosts. Specifically, about how to banish them. The book has clearly been well used, the spine well broken in and several bookmarks still inside.

You pause for a second before opening the notebook to the first page. In it, you find a detailed recounting of the malevolent spirit living within the house. Your own grandma’s account. You can barely comprehend everything, so many details and actions taken.

And then you come across the entry around the time of your visit years ago. You read about your grandma’s fear of you being there. The increasing obsession the ghost, Tomura Shigaraki, had of you. And her final decision to send you back, away from the ghost.

This information answers some questions and raises so many more. Your grandma was a witch. Ghosts and spirits exist. And one is obsessed with you. So obsessed, in fact, that your grandma feared for you to the point that she barely had anything to do with you after that. You wonder if she felt that staying away from you was for your own protection.

You pick the book up about banishment, hoping to find more answers, and open it to one of the bookmarks. Inside is a detailed banishment and saging ritual, used to weaken ghosts. Turning a few pages back, you look to see if it mentions what signs you should be watching for, any hints that you have a ghost obsessed with you. You don’t doubt what you read from your grandma, but a part of you is still in denial, hoping that this is all an elaborate story.

You finally find the correct page and do some reading. Unexplained sounds and feelings, check. Seeing things that aren’t there, check. Your heart stops for a second at the next section. Strange and intense dreams, including ones of a sexual nature. Definite check. Unexplained marks and bruises on your body.

You stop reading at that point, thinking back to the dream. The bruises. Those handprints. The raised fingers. You feel a chill run down your spine, the room getting noticeably colder. No matter how much you try to rationalize it, something feels off about the whole thing. You turn the page back to the description of the saging, and it looks easy enough for you to handle. And really, what can it hurt?

~~~~

You glance around at the circle of objects you had laid out around you. You feel like you should be feeling very silly right now. But you just don’t. There is this sense of impending doom you have in your bones, and yet not enough to blatantly run from the house. You have obligations here, a responsibility to your grandma. Even if this is you being silly, it will hopefully give you peace of mind.

You had found plenty of sage and salt in one of your grandmother’s cupboards. You had opened up the majority of the windows that could actually be opened so that energy could leave, and also to air the house out from the sage. You had laid out and started lighting some white candles throughout the house. And you had a bowl to catch the ash from the burning sage stick, and another bowl filled with salt.

You read in the book that you needed to light the sage and walk from room to room with it, spreading the smoke around and paying special attention to outer walls of the house where negative energy could come in. The book also said that spreading a line of salt around entryways and windows also helped to keep things out.

You decide to start in your bedroom, since that’s where the most extreme of the incidents happened. You have candles lit and salt laid in there already, so all you need is to light the sage and say the words.

As you go to grab the lighter, the lights of the house start to flicker, and the atmosphere in the air grows heavy and intense. You feel like someone is staring right into you, all the way down to your soul, and that they are not pleased. The entire house seems to take on a life of its own, as if furious with what you’re about to do.

Before you have a chance to panic, you light the sage. You move all the way around the room, holding the sage up to the corners of the room, and you feel the pressure lessen just a bit. "I cast the circle thrice about to keep the evil spirits out,” you begin to say, in as powerful of a voice as you can muster.

You leave the bedroom, going room to room in the upstairs part of the house, making sure no part is untouched. “Earth, Wind, Fire and Sea.” The furious stare is lessening and the house itself seems to be settling.

Finally, you make your way downstairs to the front entrance, the last place of the house that you haven’t gone through. You spread the smoke of the sage around this area as well, before finally saying the words to close things out. “As I will so, mote it be!" You put the sage out.

It feels like everything stops all at once. You hear an anguished scream coming from the living room, and you quickly rush that way. In the mirror your friend saw him in before, you now see him too.

He’s wearing the same outfit he was in your dream, but there is no sense of the smug, triumphant man you felt. Instead, he looks furious. Clawing at the inside of the mirror like he is in pain. And then he suddenly starts to fade, getting more and more see through until he finally vanishes entirely.

And then suddenly, the house feels like a house again. No presence, no pressure, no eyes feeling like they’re watching you. You breathe a sigh of relief as you realize that it worked. The house has never felt so light, so clear the entire time you’ve been here.

It seems to have taken a lot out of you however, leaving you feeling exhausted and hungry. You quickly make something to eat before heading to bed.

Good, you think to yourself as you walk up the stairs to your bedroom. Whatever this was is over now and I can finally finish things here in peace. He’s gone.

~~~~

You wake up slowly, feeling strangely weak and groggy. Something feels wrong, and you try to pinpoint what it is. You recall doing the saging ritual, feeling like it worked, before fixing yourself some quick dinner and heading to bed. Everything seemed fine when you went to sleep.

You try to get up, to look around, but you find that you can’t move at all. Panic hits as you try desperately to move something, anything. But you are completely paralyzed. Your head throbs and the room seems to spin the harder you try to move.

You attempt to slow your breathing, to concentrate and think through your situation, and then you notice it. You went to sleep curled up on your side, as usual, but you’re not laying like that anymore. You’re on all fours on the bed, head pressed down against the mattress, back arching upwards.

You feel movement from behind you, and you find that you are able to lift your head just enough to glance back. Instinctively, you know what you’re going to see. Who you’re going to see.

Dawning horror rises in you as your fears are confirmed, that the movement behind you is coming from the man of your dream, Tomura Shigaraki, and that he is buried to the hilt inside you. You make a strangled noise in the back of your throat as you feel yourself clenching around the hard cock that is stretching you out.

“Ah, finally awake? Took you long enough, he chuckles maliciously. “The man of your dream, huh?” He pulls all the way out of you, only to slam roughly back in, wrenching a scream from you. “Sounds so romantic.”

He leans in to whisper a question into your ear. “Want to know a secret?” You want so badly to tell him no, to wake up from this nightmare, but you know there is no option.

“It was never a dream, my little plaything.” His tone is so full of sinister glee that you find yourself shivering.

You feel overwhelmed that this has already happened once before, that you were too stupid to realize it was never simply a dream.

He grabs your hips roughly and begins to set a slow pace inside you. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” he hisses out, “like you didn’t beg me to fuck you.”

Shame burns your face, and you bury your face into the pillow to try and hide your sobs. But Shigaraki simply coils his fingers inside your hair and jerks backwards. The action forces your back to arch, his cock burying even deeper inside you.

Despite yourself, you feel heat pooling in your core from his rough handling and the feeling of his thick cock sliding against your inner walls.

You let out a broken moan as he speeds up, his hips snapping into your backside, balls smacking against your clit and filling the room with the wet noises of skin slapping against skin. A coil inside you is building, and you want more than anything to squirm away. But there is no give in whatever power he has you under, and you’re forced to simply take the pleasure.

He runs a cold hand up and down your back, digging nails into the skin as the other hand trails around to where your bodies are joined. He begins to furiously rub your clit, tight and fast circles that leave you gasping and gripping at the bed sheets under your hands.

You feel your juices dripping from you, drenching his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your quivering cunt. Being unable to move is only heightening all of your other senses, and you can feel every vein on the cock inside you.

You feel yourself rapidly tightening up, your orgasm quickly approaching. You let out a loud whine as you find yourself pushing back against him, seeking more friction in spite of yourself.

“You’re about to cum, aren’t you?” He barks out a laugh. “Do it then, cum all over my cock.”

At his words, you instantly cum hard, as if your body is obeying his command. He fucks you through your orgasm before pulling out and flipping you over.

He pulls you into his lap before entering you again as your pussy is still fluttering around his cock. This new position lets him thrust up into you, the new angle causing him to slam into a spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

His pace doesn’t even slow as he begins to kiss at your neck, nipping and sucking hard as he leaves bruises down the column of your neck. His fingers begin to stroke your aching clit yet again, and you let out a shameless moan.

“Please stop,” you whimper, “too sensitive.” You feel wrung out, the room seeming to spin just a bit, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.

He ignores you, gripping your hips to hold you in place as he pounds into you. You glance down at the cock disappearing inside you, and you flush with embarrassment as you see that his length is glistening with your juices.

His pace becomes erratic, thrusts starting to stutter, and you know that he’s getting close too. “Mine, mine, mine,” he chants as he finally finishes inside you with a loud groan. The feeling of cold spreading through your core is enough to push you over yet again, and you collapse against his shoulder in sheer exhaustion.

Tears run down your face as you ask him the question you’ve been wondering. “I thought I banished you.”

His chest rumbles with his laughter. “No, little plaything. Your grandmother was a powerful witch and knew what she was doing.” You stiffen up at his words.

He leans down to lick at the shell of your ear. “You, however, are weak and know nothing.”

“But then, why did you…” you trail off as it finally hits you. You let out a choked sob. “You were faking it.”

He simply smirked at you. You suddenly can’t breathe. The room is spinning even more, your head feeling like it’s going to split open. You push away from him and are surprised when he lets you.

You back away slowly, grabbing your pajamas from the floor and throwing them on. You keep an eye on him the entire time, but he doesn’t move. He simply looks at you.

You don’t know why he’s simply letting you and you don’t care. You turn around and start running.

Fuck the house, you thought, fuck your stuff, fuck everything. You have to get out while you still can. You don’t know what else Shigaraki will do to you if you stay. And...your poor grandmother. Now you know why she never moved out of the house. She stayed here for years to protect people, to protect you.

You don’t take time to pack things. In a blind panic, you run through the hallways of the house, down the stairs, making a beeline to the door. The headache you were feeling from before intensifies. As you make it to the final stair, a wave of weakness and dizziness overcomes you. You barely keep yourself upright as you grip the banister. You push yourself to the wall, using it to prop yourself up, as you take two more steps.

But the weakness is too much, and your knees buckle. You fall to the floor hard, the room spinning around you wildly. Oh god, what’s wrong with me? You begin to panic, trying to take huge gulps of air, but breathing has become so hard.

You can’t let this stop you from getting out of the house, you have to get out now. You roll yourself over onto your stomach, determined to drag yourself to the door if need be.

And then you see him. Shigaraki. He appears more solid than earlier, leaning against a doorframe with the biggest triumphant smirk you have ever seen on his face.

“Not feeling so good, are we?”

You freeze in your quest to drag yourself up as you stare at him. He begins to walk towards you, slowly, deliberately, Making you feel like prey. Like you’re being hunted

“What did you do to me?” you whisper in fear. You know deep down what is happening to you, but you don’t truly want to admit it. Want to be in denial. Want him to tell you nothing is wrong.

He lets out a twisted laugh, ignoring your question entirely. “Do you know how boring it was, with nothing but that pathetic old woman to keep me company for years? She was just familiar enough with poltergeists to guard against me, but not enough to banish me entirely.”

You had no idea your grandmother knew anything at all about spirits until you found all those books in her library, read her notes. You certainly hadn’t.

“But then you showed up at her doorstep, needing a place to stay. You intrigued me from the start. A naive little thing who had no idea what she was stepping into. And your grandmother knew that. She knew I was becoming obsessed. That I wanted to corrupt you.”

Corrupt you, you think dimly, thinking of the event just earlier. The one that started your mad dash to get out of the house. Waking up and being unable to move. Held down by his power and forced to feel pleasure you didn’t want as he took you. You shiver at the thought, revulsion and lust warring with each other.

“That’s why she sent you away from me. And that’s why I killed her.”

It feels like your heart stops beating for a second. Tears start flowing from your eyes and running down your face. “...You killed her? She died because of me?”

Your muscles cramp harshly, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of pain. You try to scoot back from the malignant ghost that is approaching you, the murderous ghost that took the last of your family from you. But you’re too tired and too dizzy to manage it. You lay your head back against the floor.

“Yeah, I killed her,” he lets out a harsh laugh. “And yeah, that’s why she died. I warned her of the consequences of what would happen if she didn’t bring you back. She didn’t listen.”

A haze is descending over your eyes. Everything is becoming distant, except for Shigaraki’s form, his voice, his words.

“And then, after what I did to get you back here, you were going to try and get rid of me,” he growls in a low, dangerous tone. “You don’t seem to understand that you belong to me.”

He approaches where you lay, immobilized, unable to do anything but watch as he slowly sits down on the floor beside you. He reaches over, grabbing your body and situating it into his lap in a princess carry.

Your muscles convulse, your head spins, and you find yourself whimpering from the pain. He grins as he runs his fingers through your hair, making his way down your jawline to cup your face.

“You’re dying, little pet. And quickly, at that. The things you can find in old houses is truly amazing. Like the arsenic I found in a forgotten corner of the basement.”

Your veins turn to ice, the haze clouding your mind lifting just a bit. The terror pushes all other emotions out, as if you’re a being of pure fear and panic, as if you’ve never known anything else.

Your eyes widen and you try to shake your head, before the dizziness forces you to stop. “No no no, please no. Please tell me you’re joking, trying to scare me.”

He huffs out a soft laugh. “Would I joke about this? It’s true. I sensed you might do something stupid and I was right. I slipped the poison into your food after you tried to weaken me.”

You try to push away, to get out of his arms, but you’re too weak. He simply puts a bit more pressure into his hold to keep you in place. The mere effort is enough to leave you panting for breath.

“What do you mean to accomplish? If I’m dead…”. Your stomach cramps again, harder this time, and your sentence cuts out in a pained gasp.

He gives a truly wicked laugh, and his lips curl up in a smirk. “If you’re dead, you’re trapped here. Just like I am.”

More tears roll down your face. “I don’t wanna die,” you whimper, “and I don’t want to be stuck here with you.” It’s hard to keep your eyes open any more. They begin to slowly close as the room darkens.

He shifts you further into his lap, stroking his hands through your hair and kissing the tears running down your face. The gentle gesture is so at odds with the fact that he’s the one killing you.

“You have no choice in the matter,” he chuckles, “it’s happening whether you want it or not. It was only a matter of time anyway, you just sped up my timeline.”

Your muscles begin to seize up, and seeking some sort of comfort from the pain, you turn your head into the chest of your murderer. “I hate you,” you whimper, before grasping his hoodie, burying your face into it to muffle your crying.

His arms wrap around you more solidly, hand coming around the back of your head to cradle it. “That’s okay, pet. I have all the time in the world to make you love me.” The last thing you hear before your eyes close for the final time is Shigaraki whispering in your ear “after all, we’ll be together forever.”

~~~~

Tag: @monst, @secondhand-trash, @animewh0re, @thewheezingwyvern, @legend-of-frost, @mothwithteeth, @mhafanfics19, @kazooli, @lildreamer93, @yaoyorozuwrites, @dee-madwriter

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

Text

be mine

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

raleigh and cadence end up on a couple’s trip together as the fifth and sixth wheels to their friends, four months after they’ve broken up.

shoutout to jade for letting me borrow her rcd mc florencia/platinum mc dom and shoutout to pj for letting me borrow her platinum mc ascendance ! the gang’s all here this valentine’s day 💕

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @dakotawinchester ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @grigori-girl

~9k words | E (18+)

avery was uncharacteristically squirrelly when she pressed him about who else was coming on the trip with them, evading her questions as best as he could while he herded her onto the plane.

“i don’t want to be a third wheel to you and ascendance,” cadence insisted for what was surely the sixth or seventh time since he’d first invited her along, “or a fifth wheel once seth and florencia show up, either.”

“would you relax?” avery said, waving the flight attendant over and practically shoving a drink into her hand as they settled into their seats across from each other, “seth and florencia are bringing someone with them, too. it’s going to be fine.”

“it’s not going to be fine if whoever they bring is a weirdo,” she pointed out, but sipped obligingly from her champagne all the same, sighing dramatically when the doors closed and the plane started to roll down the tarmac. “then the four of you will be off doing valentine’s day things together and i’ll be stuck entertaining some creep.”

“they wouldn’t just bring some creep,” avery assured her, rolling his eyes. “and even if they did, at least you’ll be entertaining them in palm springs, yeah? i don’t think i could’ve lasted another day below zero.”

that was true. new york had been freezing, lately, with a particularly unrelenting winter that seemed unlikely to melt into spring anytime soon, groundhog predictions be damned. as the plane took off into the air, her toes had yet to thaw out where they were like ice in her sneakers.

avery’s girlfriend’s vacation house in palm springs was going to be a welcome respite from the place she was desperate to get away from, even if she was going to have to spend her first valentine’s day alone there -- or, worse, with some strange guy or girl she wasn’t ready to entertain.

it had been four months since her breakup with raleigh, and it wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to date again. she had. each of her friends had begged to be given the chance to set her up until she finally relented and subsequently regretted ever leaving her apartment -- every single miserable dinner date she went on felt like trying to walk around in the wrong size shoes, pinchy and unfamiliar and strange.

each of the people she’d dated were perfectly nice in their own way, but they weren’t raleigh. they never could be.

the realization had admittedly left her feeling a little glum. she’d expected to be over him, by now, or at the very least, to not still be so torn up about their breakup, especially when she was the one who’d forced his hand.

man up and make a commitment, or let me go. the words felt bitter as she recalled them, and she sighed when avery kicked her underneath the table between them, eyebrows drawing together.

“oi, none of that this weekend. this trip is going to be fun.”

“i know,” cadence said, her eyes on the window beside her. as fun as it could be, she supposed. “and i really appreciate you trying to take my mind off things, but...”

avery’s eyes softened. “yeah,” he allowed, “i get it. but i really do want you to try to have a good time. a break from new york will be good for you.”

“i hope so.” though she doubted it. if she couldn’t get raleigh out of her mind when she was home, a trip across the country was unlikely to make a difference.

the drive to ascendance’s from the airport was short, and after only a few minutes cadence had the pleasure of watching the two of them embrace like it’d been years since they last saw each other, kissing enthusiastically while she lingered in the foyer with her suitcase.

ascendance grinned widely at her when they broke apart, laughing a little as avery kept her wrapped in his arms, lifted up off the floor with her bare feet dangling. “hey! it’s so good to see you again. you can take any room you want, okay?”

the wet sound of kissing didn’t disappear even after she rushed upstairs, dragging her suitcase down the long hallway until she could find the bedroom farthest away from the noise.

she shut the door behind her on an airy, sun-drenched guest bedroom draped in billowy linens, the open window looking down at the pool and sprawling backyard. palm trees decorated the property, and the sight of the view alone was enough to calm her down just a little, so that her stomach wasn’t clenched into tight knots for the first time in weeks when she kicked off her shoes and sank into the bed.

her hands scrubbed across her face, rubbing at her eyes. she was makeup-free from the flight and knew she’d need to get ready before whatever chaos she was inevitably going to be dragged into tonight, when seth and florencia and their mystery guest would get in, but just then, she was far too exhausted to move.

figuring that a nap wouldn’t hurt, she slipped under the blankets in the sweats she’d worn on the plane and immediately fell fast asleep.

the sun was setting when she woke up, a commotion downstairs alerting her to the fact that seth and florencia had gotten in early; she heard a champagne cork pop and cheers echo out just as she slid to the edge of the mattress and stretched, arching her back and righting her clothes where they’d pulled out of place in her sleep.

running a hand through her messy hair, she walked out into the hallway without thinking twice about it, figuring she’d find out the plan for the evening before she started getting ready.

cadence regretted the thought as soon as she paused at the top of the stairs. “hey, sleeping beauty!” seth crowed, throwing his hands up in the air, but she couldn’t bring herself to greet him when her eyes were focused on the mop of brown hair standing just behind him, a head taller and a commanding presence she’d recognize in any room, in any city, in any place.

the person seth and florencia had brought with them was raleigh.

he smiled sheepishly at her, rubbing at the back of his neck before lifting his hand in an awkward wave. “hey.”

“hey,” she said slowly, resuming her walk down the stairs as if on autopilot, even though every nerve-ending in her body was screaming at her to turn back around and go to her room and put on something hotter, damnit. if she’d known she was going to be seeing raleigh today she would have taken the entire six hour flight in valentino haute couture and sat ramrod straight not to wrinkle it.

but she didn’t, and so there she was, makeup free in sweats, dreaming of all the long, drawn-out and painful ways she was going to murder both avery and seth for blindsiding her.

“i’m gonna go pour drinks,” seth said decisively, and cadence only barely caught the look florencia shot her before they both turned away to tend to the champagne bottle in her hands, leaving her alone in the foyer with raleigh.

it had been a few months since she saw him last. they ran into each other only once after she picked up all her things from his apartment, the shoes and makeup and guitar picks and jewelry she’d left strewn all over the place because there was no rules at raleigh’s and she’d gotten too comfortable with that. she’d spotted him from across the room at a party she didn’t want to be at and ducked out the back door before he could see her, too, walking home thirty blocks in the cold, hiccuping sobs that blew clouds of her breath into the air.

he looked more or less the same as he had in november. raleigh’s hair was still pretentiously, purposefully disheveled, his clothes the rich form of messy, distressed and slouchy that looked effortlessly fashionable, with that gaudy rolex on his wrist and hints of his tattoos peeking out at the edge of his collar.

the expression on his face gave nothing away when he said, “i didn’t know you’d be here.”

“we don’t have to talk,” she answered, because they didn’t, and she pursed her lips and looked away just as avery and ascendance entered the house from the patio door, their clasped hands swinging between their bodies.

“oh... my god?” avery said, recovering quickly from the shock on his face, his eyebrows arching to his hairline. ascendance looked to be hiding a nervous laugh behind her hand. “raleigh, good to see you. this is... a surprise.”

“it sure is,” cadence agreed with a wide, fake smile, rage pulsing in her temples. fine -- maybe she’d only have to kill seth.

as if on cue, seth reentered the foyer with the bottle of champagne still in his hands. “oooookay, here’s the -- oh, hey avery -- ascendance, thanks for having us.” florencia passed out glasses while seth leaned in for welcome hugs, and cadence stood there numbly as the reality of the situation started to sink in.

she and raleigh were the other couple, the people who’d be paired up all weekend while the rest of their friends enjoyed the time away. she was going to be stuck with the guy who’d dumped her, on valentine’s day, and there was nothing she could do about it.

when seth stopped beside her, she made a show of wrapping him up into a bear hug, squeezing him as close and as tightly as she could. “you’re dead to me,” cadence murmured calmly into his ear, smiling innocently again when he pulled away nervously and taking one of the waiting glasses of champagne from florencia’s outstretched hand.

she stared at it for a second, unseeing, before lifting the glass to her lips and draining it in one go, knocking back the champagne while silently lamenting the fact that it wasn’t something stronger. but there was probably no amount of alcohol in the world that was going to make this weekend feel bearable.

“i’m gonna go get ready,” she announced to no one, dashing back up the stairs as quickly as she dared.

ascendance found her a few minutes later in full meltdown mode, flicking frantically through the outfits she brought for something to wear to dinner.

“obviously i had no idea they’d be bringing him,” she said, sitting on cadence’s bed and rolling her eyes, “and i hope they didn’t know avery was bringing you, or, like, what the fuck is wrong with them?”

“please don’t even get me started,” cadence sighed, “or i really think i might kill someone tonight. which dress do you think is hotter?”

she gestured frantically at the two pieces she’d laid out over the top of her entire dumped-out suitcase, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes until she saw stars. getting ready was going to be impossible. if she wore something too sexy it was going to look like she was trying to get back at raleigh and if she dressed too casually it was going to look like she was trying too hard to seem unaffected. the whole situation was fucked.

“i think i have something you can wear,” ascendance said slowly, “if you have the right shoes. but are you sure you want to --”

“i can’t go home,” she cut in, groaning. “that’s worse than staying. no offense -- i want to stay, i just don’t want --”

“i know,” ascendance said sympathetically, “i get it. why don’t you start on your makeup while i pull this dress out?”

“okay,” cadence sighed miserably, and then she was alone again, staring at the mess of clothes before her.

she let herself have exactly ten seconds of wallowing and dramatically lamenting why me before she squared her shoulders and sprung into action, digging her makeup bag out of the chaos covering the bed.

okay. step one -- all she had to do was get ready. you’ve done this a thousand times before. just get ready, and go downstairs. no tears.

her hands shook as she sat down in front of the vanity.

fuck this. she wished dom was with her -- she would know what to do. at the very least, she’d have a xanax to offer.

you will not believe where i am, cadence texted her, stomach squirming. part of her would’ve given anything, just then, to be where dom was, with shane, working on whatever film they were making in whatever remote location he’d dragged her to, if only so she wouldn’t have to face the disaster waiting for her downstairs.

strip club? dom answered almost immediately, her words enough to make cadence crack a genuine smile. she felt a little calmer as she quickly filled her friend in on the situation.

fuck him, was dom’s advice, when she was done. ruin his life!!!! is that even a question? squeeze your tits up to your neck if you have to

thanks for the encouragement! cadence wrote back, setting her phone aside when only a sarcastic string of nonsensical emojis came back in response.

she did feel fortified, then, to make it to dinner, and got her makeup on in almost record time, a genuine smile fixed on her face when ascendance helped her get dressed and zipped her into the outfit she’d set aside, a stunning red minidress that was equal parts short and tight, a gentle ruffle at the hem flaring out under her ass.

they were late to dinner, but it was only in the backyard; ascendance had planned for a private chef to come to the house and cook for them so they wouldn’t have to worry about cameras following them around, and in hindsight, cadence could have kissed her for her forward thinking.

the setup was still elaborate when they made their way outside. ascendance had gone all out in planning the evening -- the table was set with candles and flowers down the length of it, the lawn lit with string lights and music playing somewhere, softly in the distance.

thankfully everyone was already at their seats when they made their way across the grass. avery pulled out the chair across from him for ascendance, and cadence took the seat at the head of the table, opposite raleigh, who was all the way down the other end and looking right at her, a crooked smile on his face and an eyebrow arched at her outfit.

she pointedly ignored him as she dropped down into her seat and picked up the bread roll waiting on her plate, squeezing ascendance’s knee gratefully under the table when she silently passed her roll over, too.

conversation was slow to start, but ascendance kept the food and drinks coming and when cadence was halfway through her third tequila soda she felt markedly less murdery, at least enough to actually talk to seth again, who was still eyeing her warily when she asked, “so, how’s the movie coming?”

“it’s good,” he answered modestly, “they tore down our sets, like, the day filming wrapped, so we did some of the reshoots on location in cordonia. that was cool.”

“they took us on a tour of the palace,” florencia added, though cadence couldn’t look at her without catching raleigh in her peripheral vision, so she kept her eyes on seth, even when he grinned widely at her between bites of the appetizer, a sure sign that there was trouble to come.

“ryan actually asked me about you,” he said casually, “a lot.”

her eyebrows pulled together in surprise. “ryan summers? i think the last time i saw him was when the odyssey dropped.”

“well -- i guess he knows we’re close,” seth shrugged, and, fuck it. she risked a glance at florencia and found her picking her way through the salad; out of the corner of her eye, cadence was pretty sure raleigh had tuned into their conversation, too. “he said he heard you were single.”

warmth flooded her face. she lifted her drink and took another measured sip of it. “did you give him my number?”

now it was seth’s turn to look surprised. “do you want me to?”

“yeah,” she said without thinking, turning her eyes back to her plate immediately. “florencia, how’s pilot season going?”

the tequila sodas went down easily after that. eventually, when the meal finished and she stood from her chair, cadence realized she was too drunk to be upright, wobbling precariously on the lawn in her heels. her head swam as she did her best to hold still, though judging by the look ascendance was giving her, she wasn’t quite managing it.

“you guys wanna head to a bar?” avery asked, and she looked up just in time to catch raleigh’s eye across the circle, knowing they were having the exact same thought at the exact same time.

her team was going to kill her if she was photographed with raleigh. more than that, the internet would destroy her, and she would absolutely deserve it. she shook her head.

“we’ll hang back,” raleigh said, either not noticing the glances the others were exchanging behind his back or tactfully ignoring them, “you guys go.”

then they were alone.

“i don’t want to talk to you,” cadence said bluntly, as soon as the others had gone, the half-bottle of tequila she’d drank obliterating her filter completely.

“that’s fair,” raleigh allowed, looking around the backyard -- which was slowly spinning in her field of vision -- before asking, “can i help you upstairs?”

“you can fuck off.” she spun on her heel to storm away and promptly tumbled down onto the ground, face planting into the grass. fuck.

in an instant, raleigh was down on his knees beside her, one large hand wrapped gently around her arm to pull her upright. “hey, are you okay? jesus, that looked bad.”

“i’m fine,” cadence groaned, yanking her arm out of his grip, “and i don’t need your help, and even if i did, you wouldn’t be helping me anyway. all you care about is yourself.”

it took her a minute, but she made her way back to her feet, kicking her heels off for better balance. silently, raleigh picked them up for her, giving her a long look before muttering, “come on, let’s get you inside.”

they trudged back to the house in silence, side-by-side, cadence’s steps slow and awkward with the world fuzzy around her. raleigh hovered as close to her personal space as he dared their entire way up the stairs, all the way down the hallway until they were both alone in her room.

everything she owned was still strewn across the bed. she groaned when she saw the pile of clothes obstructing the mattress, then threw herself down in the vanity chair and poked around for her makeup wipes instead.

raleigh lingered in the doorway, watching her. “are you gonna be okay?”

she scoffed, yanking the package of makeup wipes open and pulling one out forcefully. “like you give a shit.”

“would you stop it? you have every right to be pissed at me but i’m trying to help, here. are you going to be sick?”

“sick of you,” she said, scrubbing the eyeliner off her eyes in a way her glam team definitely would not approve of, with how she was tugging at her face.

but they weren’t here. raleigh was. and she needed him to go, before she said something stupid.

when she dropped the makeup wipe into the trash at her feet, cadence found raleigh’s arms folded across his chest where he was still leaning in the open door frame. he was staring at her through slightly narrowed eyes, looking either annoyed or pensive -- it was hard to read him, now, considering the drinks she’d had and how long it’d been since they were last alone together.

maybe she’d never be able to read raleigh’s expression ever again.

raleigh dragged a hand across his mouth, rubbing at his jaw before shrugging helplessly and saying, “i do actually want us to be friends, eventually.”

“don’t count on it,” cadence scoffed, turning back to the vanity mirror for a fresh makeup wipe and the eyeliner on her other eye.

there was silence for a long moment before he asked, “is that really how you feel?” raleigh’s voice was quieter, this time. he was less sure of himself, maybe.

or maybe she was projecting, leaning into her own wishful thinking.

either way, she faltered, pursing her lips as she stared at her streaky, half-made up face in the mirror before her.

no. it wasn’t what she wanted. but evidently she wasn’t able to have what she wanted, so a clean break should have been the next best thing, right? space to get over raleigh in peace, no matter how long that took.

when she didn’t say anything, he softly continued, “it’s just that... i miss talking to you, you know? other people don’t always get it.”

irritation flashed within her, sudden and sharp. that was so like raleigh, to want all of the emotional benefits of her companionship without any of the responsibilities that came with them. “i can’t be your friend right now,” she snapped, shutting her eyes briefly when the way her head turned too quickly made the room start to spin again. “maybe ever, okay?”

there was quiet for so long that she forced her eyes open to check and see whether or not raleigh had left, peeking one eye open slowly, just a crack. cadence sighed when she saw he was still standing in the doorway, staring at her with that dark, inscrutable gaze.

raleigh cleared his throat before he said, “i’ve been trying to give you space. obviously i knew you wouldn’t want to talk again right away, but in a few months, i thought...”

how embarrassing. she turned away in shame, biting down on the inside of her cheek.

she wondered how long it’d taken him, to get over their relationship. had he felt they could have been friends again, like nothing ever happened, in one month? three weeks? a few days?

“well, you thought wrong. so please just leave me alone this weekend.” cadence kept her eyes trained on the wall by the closet on the other side of the room, refusing to turn back around. she could feel the tequila starting to work its way back up in her stomach.

“okay,” raleigh said finally, and she heard his hand tap on the doorframe with finality. “night, cadence.”

only when she heard the soft sound of his footsteps on the carpet fade away into nothing did she get up, gently shutting the door to her room and slumping back against it to thump her head against the wood quietly once she was alone.

fuck.

that certainly hadn’t gone as planned.

in the morning, she woke up with a pounding headache, someone heavy sitting on her legs on the bed. the smell of coffee forced her eyes open, and cadence sat up slowly until her blurry vision focused on seth, who grinned at her again before passing her a mug that was warm to the touch in her hands when she reached out for it.

“morning,” he said, looking far too obnoxious and smug for someone who’d been out later than she had the night before. “i thought you might want to know that raleigh asked if i was really going to give your number to ryan at breakfast just now.”

“i’m going to throw up on you,” cadence mumbled, but stared into the coffee in her hands instead, lifting it to her lips for a careful sip that immediately burned her mouth. “wait -- what?”

“any idea why he’d ask me that?” seth smirked, shifting away deftly when she lifted her leg underneath the covers and kicked out at him.

“because he’s a bad person and you’re an even worse one?” she suggested, slumping back down to the mattress with a huff when seth rolled to the other edge of the bed, out of reach. “i hope you don’t think i’m ever going to forgive you for bringing him here.”

seth cringed. “florencia said i’m lucky to be alive.” he shifted closer tentatively when she laughed. “i really didn’t know you’d be here, though. i thought you were going upstate to write.”

“i went last month,” she sighed, “it was miserable. even colder than the city and more depressing than my apartment.” the air b&b had been too empty and too quiet, just like her place back home.

“well, we didn’t all conspire to pull a parent trap on you, i promise,” seth said, and she rolled her eyes at him before disappearing back into her coffee, hoping the caffeine would mitigate the hangover that was starting to feel miserable. “but i also didn’t think you were going to get drunk and start a huge fight or whatever.”

“is that what he said?” she asked, glancing at the closed door of her bedroom before looking back at seth curiously, “that we had a huge fight?” she had been drunk, but the argument she’d had with raleigh had felt tame in comparison to some of the blowouts they’d gotten into when they were together, including the final explosive screaming match that’d broken them up in the fall.

“kinda,” seth shrugged, “but you know how he is. always downplaying everything.”

“yeah.” her nails tapped against the ceramic mug as she strained to listen to whatever was going on downstairs, but if there were still people in the kitchen, she couldn’t hear them, anymore. “are you going to give my number to ryan?”

“i already did,” seth answered with a dismissive flick of his hand, sending a wave of relief through her. there was something comforting in knowing that the decision was out of her hands, and that she wouldn’t have to admit, out loud, that she was reconsidering the offer after talking to raleigh last night. “but that so isn’t the point.”

“please don’t start,” cadence practically begged, “i literally don’t have it in me to think about this today.” or ever, she silently added. the what-ifs of her and raleigh’s relationship would prove to be enough to consume her, if she let them. she’d spent too many hours, over the last few months, thinking about them -- wondering how he felt, questioning whether or not he was thinking about her, torturing herself guessing where he was or who he was with. life had finally been able to start to distract her with other things again: work, friends, social events. she couldn’t afford to take a step backwards.

any question or comment he’d made was probably done in passing. he didn’t care who anyone gave her number to.

“but --” seth tried, cutting off with a sigh when she shook her head at him, eyes wide and pleading. “fine. well... there’s more coffee in the kitchen, okay? come out to the pool when you feel like it.”

she stared off into space as she finished what was left in the mug seth had brought her, rubbing her calves together under the sheets to try and determine whether or not she needed to shave her legs again. it’ll give you some time to stall, said a voice in her head helpfully, and she headed to the shower without thinking twice about it, eager to explore ascendance’s stock of beauty products.

everyone was out by the pool when she finally emerged with her sunglasses and bikini on. the boys were splashing in the water, and cadence kept her eyes lowered as she spread out in one of the empty lounge chairs next to ascendance.

“so,” ascendance murmured, as soon as she got comfortable, “i heard last night was a disaster.”

cadence rolled her eyes again. “good to know raleigh is still the nosey little gossip he always was.”

“if you seriously thought he wasn’t going to tell everyone you hardcore unloaded on him last night, you’re delusional,” ascendance pointed out fairly, making her pout where she was sitting next to her friend.

fine. “i just didn’t think it was news every time we got into an argument,” she muttered, tilting her head back against the lounge chair, squinting into the sun.

“it’s always news, with you two.”

with a sigh, cadence looked away, squeezing her eyes shut against the spots that were suddenly appearing like fireworks. evidently all sense of self preservation had completely abandoned her this weekend, both where raleigh was concerned and otherwise. “you’re not really going to make me ask about it, are you?”

she turned her head and found ascendance grinning at her. “would i do that to you?” she asked, rolling over onto her side and inching her chair closer. her voice dropped to a near whisper, and when she dipped her head so her eyes were visible over the tops of her own sunglasses cadence could see how eager she was to fill her in on the news. “the man is a mess,” ascendance said bluntly, looking almost excited about it.

despite her best efforts not to care, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling hopeful and a little relieved, just to hear that. “really?”

“yeah. i don’t think he ever thought you’d be so upset with him, and for so long. it’s kind of embarrassing, honestly. like -- for his soul.”

“well -- what did he think, that i was just going to be, like, okay, see you? when he picked up all his shit from my apartment while i was on a shoot and told entertainment tonight we had mutual differences. what the fuck was he thinking?”

“beats me,” ascendance scoffed, slowly shaking her head. “i told him he was out of his mind many times. you know how he is. asking all of us for advice on how to talk to you when you made it clear you wanted him to leave you alone.”

“it’s just like -- what could he even possibly have to say to me, you know? after all this time. he had plenty of chances to text me, or something.”

“i don’t think he even knows,” ascendance said. “it just kills him to think anyone’s mad at him. we’re all like that, in a way.”

“i hate that you’re right,” she sighed, gaze drifting out at the sprawling view in the backyard. “he doesn’t care that it’s me. he’s just too much of a narcissist to have someone dislike him.”

“hang on, i didn’t say that,” ascendance mused, pursing her lips. “he definitely cares more because it’s you. try talking to him for ten minutes, you’ll see.”

“i honestly don’t think i can stomach looking at him for ten minutes. it’s like --”

“oi! ace, cadence -- get in here, yeah?”

they turned in unison to find avery grinning, splashing water and waving them into the pool. florencia and seth were sitting on the stairs, and her eyes scanned the rest of the space to slowly come to land on raleigh, treading water behind avery, already staring at her.

“come on,” ascendance smiled, reaching for her wrist and tugging cadence out of her chair before she could protest, yanking her forward towards the edge of the pool.

with a splash, they both jumped in, and cadence was left hovering by the wall as ascendance immediately swam over to avery and jumped into his arms, the two of them spinning away into the deep end with loud laughter.

raleigh lifted his hand to wave awkwardly at her. with a sigh, she swam over, sparing only a brief glance at seth and florencia, who were still parked on the stairs with absolutely no intention of moving and saving her anytime soon.

“you sleep alright?” raleigh asked, as soon as she was close enough to hear him. the expression on his face was sincere, his eyes resting respectfully on her face.

cadence fidgeted as she tried not to stare in return, though the broad planes of raleigh’s chest had always been a distraction -- worse when they were bisected with gold chains and dripping with water, gleaming under the sun. “yeah, i guess. sorry i got drunk and screamed at you or whatever.”

raleigh tipped his head back with a loud laugh, one large palm resting against an equally large pectoral muscle. with his eyes crinkled together under the sun, she gave in and let herself stare at his fingers, glaring bitterly at the tattoos that swirled up his forearm. asshole.

“i think i actually really deserved it, so it’s fine.” when their eyes met again he seemed uncharacteristically uncertain, his trademark shield of confidence momentarily lowered. “i feel like an idiot for not realizing that’s how you must’ve felt sooner.”

cadence shook her head. “that’s not your problem.” having an ex-boyfriend was new to her, let alone one she had to work in the same industry with and live a few neighborhoods away from, the tinny call of the subway conductor’s voice announcing the stops still making her cringe down into her takeaway coffee, even months later -- but she was pretty sure none of this was par for the course. in her (admittedly limited, defined mostly by movies) experience, ex-boyfriends didn’t concern themselves with the aftermath, and raleigh shouldn’t have been any exception.

“i know that.” something unidentifiable flashed in his eyes, and when he winced, she realized it was akin to... pain. uncomfortableness, at the very least. “but, still. i hate thinking that you felt that way... about me. or because of me, even. it’s just shitty.”

“you don’t have to feel guilty,” cadence said, that same prickly annoyance rising up in her again, too suddenly to contend with before the rude words reached her lips. “i know you think highly of yourself, but i’ve had worse things happen to me than being broken up with before.”

raleigh sighed heavily, shaking his head. “i’m fucking this up again. that’s not what i meant. i’m trying to apologize.”

her face contorted with confusion. “you are?”

“yeah, but -- this isn’t going like how i thought it would.” he shrugged, dragging a wet hand across the stubble on his face. he must’ve forgotten to bring a razor with him; it was growing out thicker than it usually did, even and dark across raleigh’s jaw. “i am sorry, though. for what it’s worth, i... really do miss you. and i know that you want me to fuck off and leave you alone and i’m being selfish by not doing that, but -- i just hate not talking to you. and i’m sorry.”

she was quiet for a moment, stunned into silence by his honesty. before she’d even fully had time to process what he’d said, cadence found herself saying, “you don’t have to fuck off entirely.”

raleigh blinked. “no?” he questioned, sounding unsure.

cadence shook her head. there were a million things she could’ve said -- that she’d missed him, too, that she hadn’t ever wanted to break up in the first place, that all she’d ever wanted from him was the promise of a future together -- but they all felt too revealing, making her feel as small as she had when she’d seen his first tabloid cover without her hit the newsstands at the corner store beneath her apartment building. yet again, it was like he was winning their breakup and she was acutely aware of the fact that she was not, and that she’d never be able to, because raleigh was raleigh and she was in love with him.

so she said nothing, and after a beat, he smiled hesitantly at her, eyes searching her face for some sign that she was going to snap at him again.

but she didn’t, and just as she smiled back at him a splash down at the other end of the pool startled them apart, stealing their attention away, and then they were both melding back into the group seamlessly, as though absolutely nothing had transpired between them.

that didn’t stop her from obsessing over it, though, analyzing every aspect of their interaction for the rest of the afternoon while she lounged by the pool, scrolled idly through her phone and made small talk with her friends. despite knowing that raleigh was only trying to bury the hatchet between them in order to appease his own narcissism, the small flicker of hope that had been inside her since their breakup, wondering if maybe he regretted what had happened between them, had been stoked back into a roaring fire.

as the sun started to set, she shivered, tugging at the ends of her damp hair. “i’m gonna go shower. what time’s dinner again?”

ascendance waved her off lazily. “whenever. you know these fools are going to start a fire and pull out a guitar as soon as it gets dark. just come back down when you’re done.”

she shouldered her bag and was surprised to find raleigh fall into step beside her, just outside the sliding back door of the house. “hey,” he said, shirtless still and warm from the sun, smiling brightly, “you going up?”

“yeah,” she answered, trying not to stare at him, “need a break?”

“i’m exhausted,” raleigh said, as they walked up the stairs shoulder-to-shoulder, “i think i got too much sun.”

“i know, i’m going to be washing my hair for, like, a year.” her hands pulled at the split ends, hanging in wet waves around her face. “feels like i soaked up all the chlorine and took it with me.”

silence fell as they walked down the hallway together, and cadence snuck a glance over at raleigh as soon as she realized he wasn’t stopping in front of any of the other guest room doors. they both slowed outside the last one, at the end of the row -- hers.

“listen,” raleigh said, lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck, “i was thinking about it, and i feel like i didn’t explain myself well earlier.”

great. he’d probably seen the way she was overthinking written all over her face and realized she was holding out hope for something he had no interest in giving her. cringing, she opened her mouth to insist that she was fine when he continued, “i don’t just miss you as a friend, cadence.”

her mouth snapped shut. out of the thousands of possibilities she’d been turning over in her mind, that sentence was one that had genuinely never occurred to her. “what?��

“i felt like -- what i said, i felt like it came across, like, that i just miss being around you and talking to you like we used to... which is true, don’t get me wrong. but i didn’t mean any of it platonically. and i know that’s wrong, but...” raleigh shrugged, grinning ruefully at her. “i guess i don’t care.”

she gaped at him. after a moment, raleigh’s grin faltered. “can you say something? anything is fine.”

“sorry, i’m just, um.” cadence shook her head. what the fuck? “i’m processing.”

“look, you don’t owe me anything,” raleigh rushed to say, “i know that, and -- last night, i know you said you don’t even want to be friends, let alone anything else, so the fact that you told me i don’t have to fuck off should be enough and is way more than i deserve --”

before she could think too much about it, cadence pushed up onto her toes and kissed him, backing raleigh in against the other side of the hallway. for a split second, he stayed frozen against her; then, just as she started to panic again, he kissed her back, mouth moving urgently over hers.

raleigh’s arms wrapped around her and she carefully tip-toed forward, swaying in against his bare chest and pushing her fingers into his hair to drag his head down closer, giving herself over eagerly to the kiss. raleigh answered as if he was drowning, holding onto her so tightly her knees buckled.

the door behind him opened abruptly as they both pushed against it, and they stumbled forward into a linen closet, breaking apart clumsily as towels and washcloths rained down over their heads.

“fuck,” raleigh muttered, breathing heavily. she watched his bare chest rise and fall as he lifted a hand to run his fingers through his hair. “shit, i’m sorry.”

“don’t,” cadence interjected, similarly working to catch her breath. “i kissed you.”

“yeah, but i -- fuck, i want to be able to give you your space. i know you want that.” he seemed torn by the very idea of it.

she shook her head. “i don’t,” she rushed to explain breathlessly, “i just -- i said all that stuff because i was mad at you, and i thought... i didn’t think you wanted...”

her voice wavered and then trailed off helplessly. with her eyes, she offered raleigh the most pleading look she had, begging him to take pity on her and be the one to drive the conversation, so that she wouldn’t have to feel so achingly vulnerable, like she’d just ripped her chest wide open and laid herself bare for him to examine.

raleigh sighed. “cadence... of course i want you. i always have, ever since you threw that stupid pizza party at one in a million. but i felt like i lost the right to... to even think about this.”

cadence drew in a breath, finding it impossible to tear her eyes away from raleigh’s. he looked heartbreakingly sincere, among ascendance’s racks of askew towels, and no matter how much being with him was going to eventually, inevitably destroy her, she knew she would never, ever forgive herself for turning around now.

“you didn’t.” she watched as raleigh exhaled, relief transforming his face. “i’ve thought about it -- so much -- and i’ve wondered if you ever thought about it, too, and -- i hoped that you did? but when i didn’t hear from you, i had to assume... i mean, i thought you just moved on.”

“no,” raleigh insisted, “jesus, cadence, i could never ‘just move on.’ do you have any idea --”

she kissed him again before he could continue, and raleigh stepped forward to meet her halfway, blindly walking them both out of the closet and back across the hall to her bedroom, fumbling for the doorknob behind her back without dislodging his lips from where they were doing their very best to pull every last breath from her lungs.

he kicked the door shut when they stumbled inside together, and they fell onto her unmade bed in a tangle of damp bathing suits and sunkissed limbs, the messy sheets twisting into further disarray as they rolled around amongst the pillows.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” raleigh bit out, crawling on top of her to press her down into the mattress, the combination of his lips on her neck and his hands on her hips wiping each and every last thought from her mind. “god, cadence.”

“raleigh,” she moaned in return, sliding her hands down the bare expanse of his back, her fingertips digging into the muscles she’d sorely missed touching, “please, i want...”

his hips bucked forward, and her voice trailed off into a gasp as he pressed against her, her legs widening to give him more room to settle in. raleigh took advantage of the space immediately, and his hips circled forward slowly in a dirty grind that made her head spin, her eyelashes fluttering as her head tipped back against the pillows.

“is this what you want?” raleigh demanded, his voice low. “can you feel how much i want you?”

“yes,” cadence breathed, palms pressing against his back, urging him forward against her, “yes, raleigh, please --”

his hands made quick work of her bikini, untying the strings at the sides of her bottoms, letting the fabric fall away beneath them as his hips thrust forward again. her back arched up off the mattress, and as soon as there was space for his hands, raleigh slipped them between her ass and the mattress, squeezing.

“you look so fucking pretty,” he sighed, sounding almost personally offended as soon as his thigh slipped between her legs and she pushed her hips up, chasing any source of friction, “jesus, cadence.”

cadence reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair, pulling his face down for another desperate kiss. she didn’t exactly feel pretty, makeup-free and wet from the pool, flushed and panting and begging for her ex-boyfriend’s affection, but the way raleigh was looking at her made her feel like a perfect ten, as stunning as she’d ever thought she was, more glamorous than she’d be for a red carpet event.

it was exactly the same as the way he’d used to look at her, a mix of warm adoration and awe in his eyes, his pride bumping up her own self confidence until she thought she could do absolutely anything.

her forehead pressed against his as they broke apart, sharing the same ragged breaths. “i want you to fuck me,” cadence murmured, just so that she could hear the pained, punched-out groan of raleigh’s that followed the words, her gaze unfocused on where raleigh’s eyes suddenly screwed shut tightly from up close.

“anything,” raleigh promised, lifting his hips so her hands could slide his shorts off, “god, come here.”

she slipped forward down the bed, into raleigh’s waiting arms, and he pulled her in close enough that her body acted on muscle memory, opening up for him to slot into place against her in that same familiar way they’d come together so many times before.

it was as easy as breathing -- as simple and as complicated as everything with raleigh always felt.

raleigh’s hands planted on the mattress to give him more leverage, and he shoved his hips forward forcefully, pushing her up the bed. “fuck,” he groaned emphatically, making it impossible for her head to be anywhere else but right there, with him, “you feel so fucking good.”

she knew exactly what he meant. her romantic conquests over the last four months had been few and far between, and raleigh was scratching an itch that had been impossible to manage on her own or with anyone else -- even if she’d wanted to be with someone else, there was no one who knew him quite like he did, who knew exactly what she needed and never failed to give her everything and more.

each quick thrust nudged the headboard against the wall behind her, the sharp tilt of his hips making her tense until her whole body was shaking with how good it felt. cadence turned her face away as raleigh got the angle just right, throwing her forearm over her eyes to hide the open expression of pleasure on her face, muffling her moans into the sheets under her cheek.

“oh, don’t you dare,” he breathed, reaching for her arm and pulling it away, pinning her wrist down to the bed. her head rolled back as his hips bucked viciously, compelled by the low intensity in his voice. “look at me.”

her whole body felt hot and anxious, but her eyes blinked open obligingly and locked onto his, pinned in place by the wild look in raleigh’s gaze.

“raleigh.” his name was a moan that felt too loud in the room, her breath hitching halfway through. a full-body shiver tripped down her spine.

above her head, his palm slid the last inch up her wrist to lace their fingers together, squeezing her hand in his.

“did you miss this?” he asked suddenly, walking his free hand up the inside of her thigh in a maddeningly slow tip-toe. his question was punctuated by a thrust that shoved the bed into the wall again.

“yes,” she groaned, “god, raleigh, i --”

“say it.” his hand paused in its path, curling tight around her thigh, fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise.

“i missed this.” the words tripped out in a needy rush, the full-body flush she could feel worsening. “i missed this, i missed you.”

“yeah,” raleigh agreed with an answering moan, bowing his head to bring his lips to her neck again as his fingers finally slid the last few inches up between her legs to touch her, the rough pad of his thumb circling in time with each swing of his hips.

in a matter of moments she was shaking, the rough scrape of raleigh’s teeth and stubble down the column of her throat making her squirm in the sheets, her legs trembling with the way he was touching her. her nails dug into the back of his hand when she tripped over the edge, and she felt her mouth work with what was doubtlessly a mindless jumble of profanities, her brain too dizzy to work out the specifics.

cadence was only distantly aware of raleigh’s hips rocking forward, the curse words he spit out in spanish when he followed her over the edge with his teeth biting at her shoulder. her head was still spinning from the ridiculous ride of it all, and when raleigh finally exhaled, lifted his head and grinned goofily at her, his hand pushing a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead, her heart joined the party, too, seizing up with a worrying tightness before beginning to do backflips in her chest.

he rolled over carefully onto his side, pulling her with him gently until she reached out and braced her hands on his chest. “you okay?”

“pretty good,” cadence murmured honestly. she felt better than she had in a long time. her eyes swept his face curiously, desperate for an understanding of what he might have been thinking. “just tell me now if this was, like, a palm-springs-only kind of thing.”

raleigh’s wide smile faltered. he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and she saw a flash of his teeth before he resolutely shook his head, eyes still fixed seriously on her face. there was quiet for a moment before he said, “i want to go at your pace, okay? but... i’d definitely take it all back, if i could. that fight we had -- and those things i said --” he trailed off, reaching out for her arm. “i could explain this a lot better if you give me, like, an hour.”

she laughed, smiling brightly despite the heaviness of their conversation. “sorry. i didn’t mean to ruin the afterglow.”

“no, this is important,” raleigh insisted softly, “‘cause i don’t want you to go home thinking -- whatever. and i don’t want this to be just a one-time thing. i mean, i’d love for this to be at least a ten-or-twelve-time thing before our flights tomorrow, but... ideally, uh. you know. there’d be more than that, too.”

cadence leaned in to close the distance between them, gently catching his lips in a quick kiss. as soon as their mouths brushed, raleigh relaxed against her, the tension abruptly dropping out of his limbs as his hands hesitantly came to rest on her back, tilting her in closer.

“i think that sounds great,” cadence murmured, the cautious smile that was spreading across raleigh’s lips enough to set a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach again.

“thank god,” he sighed, “because i seriously need a break before i have to put sentences together again, cadence. you killed me.”

“oh my god,” she laughed, “shut up, you’re so absurd.”

it was a long time before they finally dragged themselves out of bed and into the shower, and an even longer time before she felt like they were presentable enough to join the group, who all looked at the both of them with shit-eating, smug grins when they sat down at the fire in ascendance’s backyard together, raleigh snagging two slices of pizza out of the box on the table and dangling one of them straight into her waiting, open mouth.

“don’t,” cadence insisted without stopping to chew or swallow, “please keep it to yourselves.”

“what she said,” raleigh agreed, finishing his own slice of pizza in a few quick bites and passing his crust over to her wordlessly.

there was a beat of silence before seth said, “okay, no,” and then a cacophony of sound exploded around them, with each of their friends talking louder and louder over each other, shouting their questions out from around the fire.

she leaned her head on raleigh’s shoulder, chewing thoughtfully. there was certainly still a lot more to talk about -- so many things to discuss -- but she felt more on the same page with raleigh now than ever before, his palm spread out low across the small of her back with his ring and pinky finger dipped beneath the waistband of her shorts.

as avery and the others continued to bicker around them, raleigh turned his head and pressed his lips to her temple in a sweet kiss. “happy valentine’s day,” he murmured into her ear.

cadence glanced down at the face of his watch, shrugging. her lips curved up into her own private smile -- it wasn’t quite valentine’s day just yet, at nine o’clock on saturday night.

“we’ve still got three more hours,” she reminded him, basking in the warmth that raleigh’s fond, indulgent laugh provided, “let’s not push it.”

#raleigh carrera #raleigh carrera x mc #platinum #choices platinum #cadence dorian #raleigh x cadence #raleigh x mc #myfic #long post #ns*w #happy valentine's day ❤️

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figonas · 3 years

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Twilight Re-watch Notes Pt. 1 - A Contest for the Worst Movie Quote in History

I'd like to think I'm funny so please enjoy my scene-by-scene notes from a recent Twilight Saga re-watch.

Hey Catherine Hardwicke, opening with the death of an animal was probably not the best choice but go off I guess??

There is a lot of general Bella awkwardness that I'm skipping over here but the scene in gym class is so horrifically, painfully uncomfortable that I almost passed out from the second-hand embarrassment.

Jessica trying her best to be fake nice to the human embodiment of a crumpled soda can: "Aren't people from Arizona like....really tan"

Bella with all the cadence of a child who just found out Santa isn't real: "yeah..I guess that's why they kicked me out"

Mike clearly just trying to get his dick wet: "HAHAH you are funny"

no mike she is not.

I'm not gonna go into the biology class scene because god knows tumblr has beaten that particular horse to death. BUT the scene in the administration office immediately after that is a TRIP. Edward has one of his most dramatic lines here when they won't let him switch classes: “I’ll just have to endure it” ?!?!?!?!?!?! This is INSANITY, he sounds like he's going to burst into tears like Edward please chill you aren't even being a little subtle.

I will never get over Bella trying to put Ketchup on her burger and then just???? giving up???? when it doesn't come out after she limply shakes it approximately once.

“HOW YOU LIKIN DA RAIN GIRL” Is our first contender for the worst and most unnatural line in movie history, and trust me there are plenty more.

Bella accusatorily saying “you were gone” to Edward as if this dude who she met for approximately 30 minutes 2 weeks ago owes her even a PALTRTY SCRAP of an explanation about anything???????

Actually, this whole scene is a horrific nightmare of awkward intrusive conversation:

“You’re asking me about the weather” HOE WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GONNA TALK ABOUT YOU DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER

“hey did you get contacts” WHO JUST ASKS THAT?!?

and of course; “it’s the fluorescents” [RUNS AWAY]

Charlie and Bella have the only organic-sounding dialogue in the entire movie. Any awkwardness they have is BELIEVABLE father-daughter awkwardness and not like "I'm being forced to film this against my will" awkwardness like every other exchange in this film series.

Bella asks Edward ALL OF ONCE about him saving her from the truck and Edward gets so haughty and smug thinking that Bella won't figure it out

“you’re not gonna let this go are you?” “no” “then I hope you enjoy disappointment” [storms off] MY DUDE LITERALLY 2 SCENES LATER SHE FIGURES IT OUT IN 3 GOOGLE CLICKS

“I had an adrenaline rush, it’s very common you can google it” contender number two for the terrible dialogue award.

Edward saying “if you were smart you would stay away from me” AFTER HE APPROACHED HER LIKE FUCK OFF [skeleton throwing its own skull gif]

Kstew got a lot of flack for her performance in this movie but when she has a good partner to exchange lines with she SHINES. The scene with Angela and her at the beach where she tells her to ask Eric to prom is GOOD. EVERY scene with Charlie in THIS ENTIRE FRANCHISE is GOOD. It is nothing but pure misogyny that Rpatz didn’t catch any flack for his truly, horrifically awkward performance

I cannot believe Stephanie thought it would be a good idea to have Edward save Bella from potentially getting gang r*ped like I get it girl is about the drama but still this is just a TOOOUCH too far

“your hand is so cold,” WHO SAYS THIS TO SOMEONE THEY BARELY KNOW COMPLETELY UNPROMPTED???

SHE TRIES TO REFUSE CARRYING BEAR MACE WHEN SHE WAS ALMOST R*PED NOT 4 HOURS PREVIOUSLY LIKE SIS CARRY A KNIFE?!?!?!?!?

The “you’re impossibly fast & strong” monologue is so bad I want to barf

“I’ve killed people before” “doesn’t matter” BITCH YES IT DOES WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU

“MY OWN PERSONAL BRAND OF HEROIN” IS SO BAD. Like we all recognize how bad this is right? Especially when one considered the target demographic for these films, i.e. teenage girls, have NO FUCKING FRAME OF REFERENCE FOR THIS WHAT.SO.EVER.

“And so the lion fell in love with the lamb” YOU’VE KNOWN EACH OTHER FOR ALL OF 3 SECONDS I CAN’T WITH Y'ALL. AT LEAST THE BOOK HAD SOME BUILD-UP JESUS GEEZUS

Who thought this meadow scene was a good idea, they need to be sent straight to hell. WHY ARE THEY LAYING DOWN LIKE, SIT MAYBE?????? IT’S SO WEIRD AND UNNATURAL THEY LOOK LIKE DOLLS I HATE IT

The scene where they get out of the car and Edward puts his arm around Bella while Spotlight by Mutemath plays in the background is TOP TIER teen drama bs and I love it. Far and away the best shot in the movie apart from The Baseball Scene(TM).

I will never get over the fact that Edward's bitch ass rats Bella out for already eating when she comes over to meet his family. BE FUCKING COOL EDWARD FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, GOD!!!

Esme is too pure for this world I can’t deal with her, & Emmet waving the knife is my favorite thing in all 5 of these movies

Why tf are Alice and Jasper fucking off doing god knows what in a tree and not helping with dinner like everyone else? Y'all ain't special even Rosalie is helping

Esme talking to Rosalie “Clean this up..now” I LOVE YOU BE MY MOM

Earlier they talk about the fact that vampires don’t sleep BUT the first thing Bella says when she walks into Edward's room is “no bed” girl we know what you after you ain't slick.....

WHAT IS THIS DANCING SCENE IN HIS BEDROOM IT’S HORRIBLE TO WATCH and I want to find whoever thought “well I could always make you” was a good line for Edward to say and slap them directly in the mouth.

“hold on tight spider monkey” excuse me while I VOMIT

Mike offering his opinion on Bella dating Edward HOWEVER justified is automatically invalidated by A. his own romantic interest in Bella and B. the fact that he has also know Bella for all of 10 minutes & has no bearing on her personal life whatsoever

THE PAST COUPLE OF MONTHS THIS MAN HAS BEEN COMING INTO HER ROOM AND WATCHING HER SLEEP THIS IS RED FLAG CITY LIKE BELLA WATCH A TRUE CRIME DOCUMENTARY OR READ THE NEWS FOR FUCKS SAKE

THIS FRANCHISE HAS THE MOST HORRIBLE KISSING SCENES IN MOVIE HISTORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU CAN HEAR LITERALLY EVERY BREATH, EVERY AWKWARD PRESS OF LIPS. You're telling me THIS was the best take of this???? CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW AWKWARD THIS WAS TO FILM

The whole scene when Bella is telling her dad about her date with Edward is absolutely god tier. Charlie snapping the barrel of the shotgun closed, him motioning that he has a halo on, asking her if she still has her pepper spray. BILLY BURKE LIFTED THIS MOVIE UP AND TRIED SO HARD TO CARRY IT ON HIS BROAD, MUSTACHIOED DAD SHOULDERS, WE STAN

WHERE TO START WITH THE BASEBALL SCENE:

Supermassive Black Hole in the background, Alice going AWF with her pitching, Rosalie getting all pissed when Bella says she's out and Emmett yells "c'mon babe it's just a game" like the puppy dog of a person (vampire?) he is, CARLISLE WEARING A SCARF WHILE PLAYING BASEBALL, I WILL NEVER EMOTIONALLY RECOVER FROM JASPERS BAT TRICKS, EMMET AND EDWARDS LAUGH AFTER CRASHING INTO ONE ANOTHER.

A TRULY IMMACULATE MOVIE SCENE. This scene isn’t long enough

“My monkey man” might be the worst line in this movie, I’m so torn between which one is the worst. Also, I'm just now realizing that this is the second time someone has compared a loved one to some type of monkey and I really don't like it.

Bella's defeated “I can’t hurt him” breaks my heart every time. AND FUCKING BILLY BURKE pulling out his acting chops with Charlie’s poor little broken sounding “I know I’m not that much fun to be around we can do more stuff together” & “I just gotcha back” LIKE LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SCENE HURTS ME ON A PHYSICAL LEVEL AND I AM ENTITLED TO FINANCIAL COMPENSATION

I know I've skipped over a lot but it's just a lot of like star wipe level montage of nonsense, so we are mOVING ON to what is possibly the biggest plot hole I've never recognized before now: How in the hell was James planning on luring Bella out if he didn’t find that videotape of Bella's mom looking for her????? Or was he just going to bust up in the holiday inn, metaphorical guns blazing & toss Bella out a window???

This fight scene between James & Edward is VERY poorly choreographed and you can practically see the stunt wires pulling on their clothes but no one is surprised..this is Twilight after all.

Who the fuck starts the fire in the ballet studio if Carlisle & Edward are with Bella, Jasper and Emmet are holding James's arms and Alice is ripping his head off???? Esme and Rosalie aren't there so the only explanation is that Emmett's power Stephanie never told us about is his ability to start small, controlled, indoor bonfires with his mind.

If Bella was losing blood from her femoral artery it is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that she would have been cognizant enough to tell them her hand was burning + THERE’S A BIG ASS BITE HOW DID THEY MISS IT???

Let Me Sign is such a good fucking song. Actually, while we're on music every song on every Twilight Saga soundtrack SLAPS. At least 1 department at Summit Entertainment was staffed with competent people. (side note, why the fuck do I know the studio by name that made this movie. I need to go lie down)

Bella acting a damn fool in the hospital bed like clingy much

CHARLIE IS SUCH A GOOD DAD FUCK!

The Edward/Jacob beef is so dramatic at prom can you both chill for 5 minutes we haven't even gotten to y'alls bullshit yet that's not until New Moon.

Bella really thought this mfer was gonna turn her at prom in the middle of the dancefloor??????????

Flightless Bird American Mouth. That's it, that's the bullet point

Victoria coming to prom, like we stan a dramatic bitch.

I will almost CERTAINLY post my New Moon (Extended Edition) notes in a few days. & yes I do have notes on the entire franchise.

#I had a lot more but I cut it down #a lot of my extra stuff was just talking about RPatz slipping inexplicably into a Spanish accent from time to time #no one seems to notice #but I fucking do #I hear the way he says 'so you're worried' and want to caCKLE OUT LOUD #I'm not nearly as funny as I think I am but ask me if I give a fuck #baby I will subject you to my poor humor #Twilight #Twilight Saga

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wordsmithie · 3 years

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@your-girl-is-lovely thank you for tagging me in the fanfic wip tag! i don’t really have a writing community on here, so instead of doing the tag properly i’m going to post a snippet of a wip that i think you’ll be interested in. 😁

this is the rose x dj wolfman au that’s been rolling around in my head. it’s going to be a gothic-steampunk hybrid. in this scene, rose has traveled to talbot manor in the hopes of enlisting the services of mr. monserrate rafael lawrence talbot (aka dj haha) to help with finding a cure for her sick sister. she finds the gate locked, so decides to climb it. fyi this is still very unpolished. sticking this under a read more, hope it works on mobile. 🤞🏾

Most of the stonework was hidden beneath a tangle of vines. They might be enough to hold her up. She gave one of the curling stems a tug. They might be enough to hold her up if she climbed fast. She slipped her bag off her shoulder. It would only add to the weight, and she could come back for it later. She tried out a few different possibilities for a foothold, before lifting herself up with a grunt. The vines were scratchy against her hands, and she tried not to imagine any of the insects that might have been crawling between them. She had reached a particularly unpromising looking spot where they didn’t seem to be any stems strong enough to hold onto, when a gruff question startled her.

“Who in t-t-the hell are you?”

Rose let out a cry, her hold slipping. She dropped to the ground, landing on her back. The good thing was that she hadn’t climbed that far so the fall wasn’t too great. The bad thing was that it still bloody hurt. She lay on her back, waiting for the air to make its way back to her lungs.

“Did you hear me? How did you g-g-get here?”

The grey clouds that hung over her eye line were blocked out by an irritated looking face.

“Scraggly” was the word that came to Rose’s mind when she saw the face. The face looked tired. It had dark circles under the eyes, and a jaw invaded by stubble. And even upside down, Rose could see the small scars on one of the cheekbones.

“I’m…I’m Rose.” It was still hard for her to breathe. She climbed to her feet. “Rose Tico.”

The scraggly face belonged to a scraggly figure. The man was wearing a dark, worn coat. He had the air of someone who had been through trials. Rose wondered if he was the manor groundskeeper.

“Wonderful,” he rasped, his expression flat. “T-T-That tells me absolutely nothing.”

“I’m - I’m Rose Tico,” she said again, taking quick steps forward and holding her hand out. “I’ve come to see Mr. Talbot.”

The man simply stared at her and then at her outstretched hand before looking back up at her. “You want to see Talbot?”

Rose frowned, dropping her hand. The rudeness of the man! “Uh, yes. I was hoping to have an audience with him.”

At that, the man laughed, a wheezing sort of crackle that left Rose feeling like she was the unsuspecting subject of the joke. “An audience with him, eh?”

Rose’s frown only grew. “Yes, I heard he was back in town.”

The man shook his head, his mouth crooked in a smile so smug that it irked her. “Oh? Where d-d-did you hear that?”

“I - well, it’s all over town. In the society papers. Everyone knows.”

“They do, huh?” The man sniffed and looked away, rubbing his nose with his knuckles. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment, but then he turned back, ire pooling in his eyes. “You never said how you g-g-got here.”

“Ah, the gondola,” Rose said, gesturing vaguely behind him.

“It’s out of order.”

It was increible, Rose thought, just how much the man managed to convey despite being so dead-eyed. For instance, she could tell that he thought her a simpleton.

“Not anymore.”

A frown accompanied his dead eyes.

“I - I fixed it.”

“You fixed it.”

“Yes?”

The man’s eyes narrowed.

Rose felt the urge to insist that she had, in fact, fixed the thing but held herself back. She didn’t have to prove herself to this stranger.

The man seemed to sense her resentment and his lips twitched, a smile hiding in them.

“It isn’t easy to fix,” he said.

“Well, I’m an electro-mechanic.” She shrugged. It was almost true. She had completed her studies and her apprenticeship after all. Any further details about her as-yet-undeveloped career weren’t necessary to this man.

His eyes narrowed some more, and she could see him assessing her. She held back the outrage and defiance that was unfurling slowly in her stomach. After all, all he saw was someone still fresh out of university, looking as if they lacked all work experience.

“Right.” His drawl implied that he didn’t believe her. “And what is it you need t-t-to have an audience with Mr. Talbot for?”

Rose could almost marvel at the fact that someone she had met mere moments ago had the capacity to spark so much irritation. Almost.

“I really would prefer to discuss it with him.”

The man let out a huff of laughter and had the audacity to roll his eyes, neither of which did anything to dampen Rose’s ire.

“I’m sure you would prefer it,” he said, eyes sliding back to meet her. “But Mr. T-T-Talbot expects all visitors to go through me. So if you wouldn’t mind -” he held out an arm with a mocking graciousness, dipping his head - “Miss Tic, was it?”

“Tico,” she ground out. Blast this man. He was proving to much more of an obstacle than the imposing gates had been. She supposed that Mr. Talbot must pay him well. Though if he did, the man clearly did not spend any of his salary on personal grooming. “Very well. I have - I come seeking Mr. Talbot’s assistance.” Now that she was here and forced to articulate her need she found that she didn’t quite know how.

“His assistance?”

“Yes. Well, his knowledge. His scientific input. My sister is - she works in the Llanwelly mines, or rather she worked in them. And she has been in a weakened state the past few months. None of the doctors know what the matter is, and nothing seem to hel-”

“And why do you s-s-suppose Mr. Talbot would know any better?”

Rose blinked.

“He has one of the keenest scientific minds in Llanwelly! Everyone knows that.”

“They do, do they?” His blank stare turned ironic.

“Well, yes, he has -” Rose stopped. The man clearly resented his employer, and nothing that she could ever say at this moment would change that. “Well, that is, I was hoping to seek Mr. Talbot’s advice.”

“And, what?” the man rasped, eyes flat. “You th-th-thought he would help you out of the kindness of his heart? That he’s some b-b-benevolent benefactor? You can’t possibly be as naive as you look.”

Rose’s mouth tightened.

“I have no such delusions, I assure you. I am willing to recompense Mr. Talbot for his efforts.”

The man’s eyes stayed on Rose, a small frown forming between his brows.

“It won’t be cheap.”

“I - I can appreciate that.”

“Can you? It will d-d-demand more of my time. I’ll need to learn the details of your sister’s illness - the state of her health before the illness, all of those details - before I can even begin to decode the problem.”

Rose knew she was gaping in what Me would say was a most un-ladylike fashion.

“And then of course who knows how long it might take to solve the problem. That is -” he turned to look at Rose from under his heavy brows - “if there even is a solution.”

“I - you - you’re Mr - you’re not -”

The man - Mr. Talbot? - sighed, looking away.

“Yes, I’m Talbot. Monseratte Rafael Lawrence Talbot, second son of Talbot Senior, and -” his words slowed to a scornful, staccato cadence, “heir - to - Talbot - Manor. Or whatever’s left of it,” he added, sucking on his teeth.

His head swivelled back to her. “You can close your mouth now,” he said, waving his hand at her, before turning around and making his way down the path that curved along the side of the property.

Rose snapped her mouth shut and made to follow him, then, remembering her bag, ran back, looped it over her shoulder, and turned around to run after him again.

“Right, so you’re - you’re Mr. Talbot,” she panted, as she tried to keep up with his strides.

He grunted. “You won’t have t-t-to get your hearing checked, I see.”

“Alright, alright,” Rose acceded. “Yes. Well, would you - would you be able to help?”

“That d-d-depends, Miss Tic, on what you’re offering.”

“Tico. I can - offer - three hundred pounds now,” Rose said between huffs. Trotting after him with her bag hitting her leg was proving difficult. “And another three hundred pounds later.”

He stopped, swerving on his feet with a suddenness that had Rose almost careening into him.

He gazed at her with his flat eyes. “Th-th-that’s not nearly enough.”

“That’s…,” Rose inhaled, “not enough?”

He shook his head, his mouth screwing up apologetically. Though Rose had the distinct impression that he wasn’t apologetic at all.

“Right, well…,” Rose frowned, thinking, eyes dropping from his face to his throat, to the faded buttons on his jacket - “well, I could…try and get some more, I suppose.” Her family’s savings might have grown a bit in the time it would take for Mr. Talbot to complete his work.

“My services would require a th-th-thousand pounds.”

Rose’s eyes jumped to his face.

“A thousand pounds?” Somehow her voice did not squeak.

He nodded, his eyes on her.

Ever since Paige had gotten sick that small, glowing spark - hope - had stubbornly lodged itself in Rose’s chest. With each doctor’s visit, with each pronouncement of failure, it had faltered, flickered at first, but then it had always burned again in Rose with a vengeance.

Now, looking into the steady, dark eyes of this man - eyes, which seemed to offer steadiness only because emptiness tinged them - who so carelessly made demands that couldn’t even begin to imagine meeting, Rose felt that hope slowly fade away.

She breathed through her mouth, trying to ensure she would have control over her voice before she spoke.

“Th-Th-There is another option.” His rough, staccato words cut through Rose’s thoughts.

She blinked up at him.

“In addition to your three hundred pounds, I would be willing to accept your services.”

Rose frowned, and then, as realisation dawned on her, her jaw dropped.

“My - ?!”

The man scoffed, his flat expression disappearing for once to make way for exasperation.

“S-S-Spare me the scandalised virtue. I have no interest in schoolroom chits.”

Rose slowly closed her mouth again, still rendered speechless as her mind tried to grapple with offense after offense. She had left the schoolroom after all. For quite some time now.

“You c-c-claimed that you’re an electro-mechanic?” He inclined his head in question, though it felt most certainly like a challenge.

Rose lifted her chin, ignoring the flush of heat that still clung to her face. “I am.”

“Mm,” he grunted, nodding, his eyes running down the length of her, stopping for a moment at her waist where her toolbelt hung.

The assessment made her want to growl at him. Lord, all her polite manners were going to be in tatters.

“If th-th-that’s the case, I could use someone like you in the manor.”

“What do you mean?”

He scratched at the back of his head. “It’s been in disuse for some time. N-n-no doubt all of the foot-droids will need some attention. And then of course there’s the household equipment. Would your skills be up to the task?” He watched her out of the side of his eyes, his head tilted to one side. His eyes were narrow, sharp like the tip of a dagger, curving to dangerous points.

“If I say yes, how long would I be in service?”

He shrugged, mouth curving down, his eyes suddenly looking a lot less dangerous.

“That all d-d-depends, of course, on how long my work will take.”

Rose nodded, absent-minded. She had known that would be the answer.

“Fine. Yes. I accept.”

He stared at her for several moments longer before inhaling. “Alright, then.” He turned on his feet and started down the path again without sparing Rose another glance. This time she didn’t run to keep up. She still wasn’t entirely certain of what it was that she’d agreed to. And she wasn’t certain that she wouldn’t regret it.

She looked up to see that he’d stopped by a small gate set deep into the stone wall. Overhanging vines spilled insistently over it making it easy to miss. She heard the lock click, and he shoved the door open with a grunt. He stepped back, turning to her with an outstretched, chivalrous arm. She ignored it and the resulting chuckle from him, and stepped over the weed-ridden threshold.

#rose x dj #dj x rose #rose tico x dj #dj x rose tico #rose tico #star wars dj #the last jedi #sw #benicio del toro #kelly marie tran #my fanfic #tag you're it

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evien-stark · 3 years

Text

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 196

Ex-Stark Employee At the Mercy of Bleeding Hearts on Valentine’s Day

This was not the headline you imagined for your big night. It wasn’t one you wanted. It was one that made you a little… sad, even. Cadence had stolen your big night, but you’d ruined her life, right? Fired her when she’d gone behind your back and hurt people of New York City that had needed help. Maybe you’d been too hard on her.

Because what else would cause her to become so deranged? To volunteer herself for science experiments and use the rest of her life savings on blackmarket Chitauri weapons? She wouldn’t give up her seller. Nor her doctors. She wouldn’t give you any information on anything that had led her from the street of Stark Industries the night you’d fired her to the moment where she’d carefully planned and crafted a rouse designed to kill you.

She’d messed with your car. She’d tried to break your Reactor. She’d possibly gotten close to murdering you. All so that she could parade your dead body around the city, wound Tony over it and try to draw his fire out in much the same way. Damage his suit and then probably put his head on a pike.

This life-

God you hated this life.

And that poor kid had gotten wrapped up in all this nonsense. You’d come out of it with more than a concussion, but that was not the thing you were most concerned about. Seeing as how the evening was only recalled in bits and pieces. But you remembered just enough about him. That a young crimefighter had come to your aid when you’d needed help. And he’d almost paid a very dear price for it.

He was just a kid- and you knew exactly which one. Because there were no coincidences in the world. What had driven Peter Parker to vigilantism? Was it the night at the Expo? Had you and Tony done this to him? Prodded him into a glamorous life of villains and evil? He was just a kid. He was just a kid. Had you met him when he was even younger than he was now for a reason? Had you seen him in the park a few months ago for that very same reason?

None of it made sense and- You were just so tired and sad.

It was why Tony found you sitting up in your darkened bedroom, weeping the next night. Falling down off an emotional cliff the wrong way. It hurt to cry, too. Physically. Your chest was a disaster area. Healing quicker than you deserved, but two days out you still weren’t there. Your face and body were still blotchy with yellowed bruises. Your neck still bore what looked like claw marks on the side.

And Tony had given a public press release about Cadence with his ring on. Without you. Because you were wounded and in bed. Not that it mattered. Press had pictures of you wearing your engagement ring as you were being half carried out of that apartment building by Tony and DC. You didn’t remember that moment- in pictures you seemed to be awake, lucid, and on your feet. Exactly as you should have been because Lady Iron couldn’t be taken down by a crazed ex-employee right?

Except that’s sort of what had happened.

Some hero you were.

You were supposed to be thankful that they were painting you in such an angelic light. An ex-employee had been out to kill you. Had plotted for years about the exact way to do it and had done everything within her means (and some very far out of her reach) to exact this plan. You’d had a chance to kill her- because of course you had- you were Lady Iron. An Avenger. But you’d chosen mercy.

...this was all true. Perhaps. Maybe Tony had told the story that way. And it was true. You hadn’t wanted to kill her. You’d come very close to doing so. But by your heroic strengths alone you’d decided not to. But that wasn’t really how it had happened, was it?

The next few days were a daze. Walking nightmares that you barely woke from until Tony held you in his arms. Dropped broken glasses as you felt yourself going upside down in your car and- alien shrieks accompanied with those electric spears- In some moments you were in that alley. In that building. In others you were facing down a giant space whale and laser blasts. Life was a daze. You were in so many places. Yet you’d never once left home.

Tony weathered your storm with loving patience and understanding. Until finally on the fourth morning it felt like you were going to be okay again. You didn’t get lost going down a hallway, or start crying looking out windows- or… duck for cover, plastered into whatever closest corner you could find.

You hated this life. You wanted out.

But how could you? When you’d unknowingly indoctrinated a child?

You weren’t over the Battle of New York City. You weren’t over Ivan Vanko. Or Obidiah Stane. Or being tossed off port beams to die in a fire- being injected with EXTREMIS and exploding. You weren’t over Triskellion ships exploding out of the sky in Washington. Or being attacked at the United Nations. Or Sokovia being utterly destroyed. You weren’t over being tortured by Kilgrave. Or murdering your college professor.

Now you were fighting the fresh and new monsters Cadence had born to life.

Your battle record was getting to be quite extensive. All of them looked like victories on paper, but to you they were all shadows that at any moment could slither around you and choke you. It just depended on the right noise or the right darkness or the right trigger.

How could you let a child start digging himself a well of trauma chasing the life of a superhero?

Really, more importantly, how could you stop him?

You took a long two hours that morning to get your head on straight. Wallowing was good for only so long. It had allowed you a lot of release that had been building up. And despite your rank in society, you tried to remember that you, like everyone else, were really just a person. Some days it was harder to remember that than others. The days where it felt like you were holding the world on your shoulders. But… for now you’d had your time. Now you had to get back to work.

A too long and too hot shower really helped soothe all the aches and pains that still lingered. Once you were finished you got ready as if it were a normal day. Did your hair. Your makeup. Got dressed like you were going somewhere, even if you had no plans to. It helped. If only a little.

Tony was sitting at his desk in the corner of the living room. Close to the bedroom. Not his actual work office or down in the labs. Close to you. Because you might need him. And often did. He had papers and parts and who knew what else littered just about everywhere. He was working on something. But when you approached close enough he lifted his head like he just knew you were there and turned on his stool to glance your way.

Once you got within arm’s reach, that’s literally what you did. Reaching out to him, winding your arms around him. Resting your forehead against his shoulder as he returned the embrace. He had a touch of nervousness about him. The same one he always did when you had just woken up fresh from a battle. Worried he might hurt you if he exerted too much upon you, no matter how much he wanted to.

So you squeezed him. And delighted when he squeezed back. Not quite crushing you to him, but somewhere close to it. A feeling that helped ground you.

When you eased back he reached up- left hand on purpose. You felt the cool metal of his ring as he cupped the side of your face. “How are you feeling?” You reached up with your own to hold him where he was, half tilting in closer, eyes closing. Just… just enjoying the feel of his touch. “Good enough.” Tony had his own demons to deal with, his own torments and problems the same as you. You knew because of this he understood exactly what it was like. To be where you were. You nodded to everything sitting in front of him. “Working on what Cadence had?”

His attention turned back to the table just a little. “Working on figuring out how this happened.” A cloud was looming over him. But that was normal after these kinds of events. He blamed himself for everything. Constantly. Even things that weren’t his fault. ...especially things that weren’t his fault.

A useless shrug welled up from your shoulders and a little more than guilt seeped through you. “I was so focused on us being normal I forgot that we weren’t.”

“Don’t blame yourself-” “Why not?” The two of you were staring at one another again. “I was so focused on us and… pretending to be anyone else. I should have realized what was happening far before it happened. That my car was messed with. That I was going the wrong way. That she was waiting for me in the road. I didn’t. And I got what I deserved.”

He stood up suddenly but didn’t raise his voice. “You did not deserve that. Or any of this.” Anything that had ever happened, he meant. He was firm in saying this but not forceful. His heart was aching same as yours.

“It just seems like… every time we try and carve out something for ourselves, some force is determined to take it away.” There was a certain helplessness about you. At what point did you stop lying to yourself that you could have a life with Tony? How many times had the universe waggled its finger right in your face to tell you otherwise?

His hands reached up again but landed on your arms, giving you a light little rub there. “You telling me you buy into the whole cosmic fate nonsense all of a sudden?”

You found yourself shaking your head. “I don’t know. I just know that… coincidences just never seem to be coincidences. And whenever we try and take one step forward for us, we get shunted back about ten.”

Softly he watched you. Considered what you were saying. It wasn’t long before one of his brows arched upwards. “In terms of the public eye we just got engaged. You wanna call it off?”

“No.” Something desperate in the way that you said this, lifting your hands to touch up across his chest. “Of course not. But… I think it’s time to pack it in on this whole retirement idea. It’s not really working out.” Sadness hit Tony hard then and you were entirely responsible. It hurt because you didn’t know what else to say about it. “We’ll have a wedding and some loud obnoxious villain will break it up. You’ll have to bring two suits.” The humor was not real or strong, no matter how hard you were trying.

That he didn’t even crack a smile was telling. “Our life is not a Saturday morning cartoon. We don’t live in a five act structure. Not everything gets wrapped up with a neat little lesson and an audience laugh track. Things happen no matter how much either of us try to stop them or prepare for them or fight them. But the only thing we can do is move on.”

“To the next terrible thing.”

His hands gripped you a little harder. Not hurting you but… “All we can do is move on.” It was like he was begging you to come to an agreement with him about this. As usual. As always. Every time you had this exact conversation… he begged you not to fall away from him.

You didn’t know what to say. You had no words that would make it better and you feared saying anything that would make it worse. You rubbed at his chest a little absently and he let up on his hold. You drew a deep breath in and let it out as an even deeper sigh. “Well…” Deciding to just… move on as he’d said. “I may not have deserved this latest atrocity but. I know someone who deserved it even less.”

It took him a moment to be able to pick up his own pieces enough to go to the next topic of conversation. He gazed at you for a moment longer, then nodded a bit and moved to sit again. “You wouldn’t happen to be talking about our little mystery spider friend, would you?”

“I know who he is.”

“So do I. Now- did you know before or after you sent him up for a playdate in my lab?”

“After.” You moved to seat yourself on the edge of the table, folding your arms.

A huff of a laugh escaped him as he mirrored you, crossing his own with a shake of his head. “And you were just saying about coincidences…”

“Peter Parker.” Just saying his name to get it out there. Peter Parker was Spider-Man. You had no idea how the hell that had happened or how long that had been true for. ...but the way Tony was looking at you- “Tell me you didn’t go digging.” He knew.

“Alright- look.” Holding a hand out to you as if to stop you from staring at him in that slightly judgy way. “My wife-to-be was bleeding out on the floor of an abandoned building murmuring something about Spider-Man and you think I wouldn’t go digging?”

...you’d had no idea about that. Embarrassment compounded with shame made for quite a lot of heat on your face. You decided to quickly sidestep the issue. He’d gotten himself out of jail this time. “We haven’t heard much about him, so I assume he hasn’t been spider-ing around for a long time.”

“Barely crawling, if you ask me.” Turning back to the table he reached for his phone, touched a few things on his screen, and then flipped a hologram into the air. Just a couple street level videos of Spider-Man’s activities- though the titles didn’t quite have the name down.

You watched as Peter stopped a car barreling towards him and two other civilians with his bare hands. Extremely impressive stuff. That strength was probably on par with Steve. Which was… saying a lot. He wasn’t even out of puberty yet- ah- “Is he a mutant, do you think?”

Tony put his phone down. “Hard to say without looking at him up close. He’s got some pretty impressive gear, I’ll give him that. Gotta wonder who’s making it for him. Suit needs immense work, though.”

The stuff he was shooting, you imagined that’s what Tony was talking about. Webs, you barely remembered Peter calling them. But. Accurate, if that’s the theme he was going for. But that meant they weren’t coming from him- so he was already smart enough to start augmenting whatever mutations he had with other tech. “Who’s to say he didn’t make it himself?”

“Kid’s living in a two bedroom in Queens. The goggled pajamas he definitely made. But the webbing materials? It’s possible but…” Tony seemed skeptical for one reason or another. “I’d like to have a nice friendly chat with him.”

“Me, too. But we have to be delicate about this. He’s a good kid, Tony.”

“Didn’t say I thought any different.”

You nodded a few times over and took another deep breath for good measure. “He’s new. And he wants to help. But… the world is out of control. Cadence might have beat him to death if she’d wanted to.”

“Or you. Seemed like you two had some sort of synergy going on there.” Now Tony was scrutinizing you. Not in a bad way or anything, but… being under his microscope was extremely uncomfortable.

There was an easy way to relieve the pressure. “Kid called me Mrs. Stark. First thing he did.” Smiling softly as you told Tony this.

It broke the magnifying glass and he couldn’t seem to help his own grin. “That so? Then we definitely need to go talk to him.”

“We just have to be gentle with him. If we tell him to stop it might make him act out. And if we tell him to go all in, that’s dangerous, too. Oh-” Memory struck you, the more you thought about him. The path that he was on. “When I saw him in the park… I think something happened to him. Something terrible. I’m not sure if it’s related.”

Tony’s eyes dropped in such a telling manner. His hands folded together and then he was nodding. “Yeah. His uncle died not too long ago. Doesn’t seem like his parents were in the picture for very long either.” There was a purposeful pause here. It made you scared. But not quite like when Tony finally said, “Guy was murdered.”

“Murdered?” The word blurted out of you before you could help it.

His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth and he sighed. “Yeah. In the phenomenally wrong place at the phenomenally wrong time.” You weren’t sure what to make of this. “Crime rate’s going down in the city but. It’s never zero.”

“Where’s the guy who did it?” “Funny you should ask.” He sniffed a breath in. “Disappeared but miraculously turned into the police station a couple days later. Beaten pretty bad but. Alive and now behind bars.” Relief flooded through you hearing this and you let go of a long exhale.

So. Peter Parker was suffering. And in his grief he had decided to… first make things right- thank god he hadn’t killed that man. And then his next move? Try and help everyone else.

What were you supposed to do with a kid like that?

---

In lieu of your Reactor now that Tony was working on a brand new one, he asked that you carry the new watch he’d designed. The one with the miniest of mini Arc Reactors inside of it. Good enough for a few defensive and offensive maneuvers. While you didn’t need it going to visit Peter, Tony was still on edge. So were you. Which was why you let him strap it onto your wrist without a fight.

The building the Parkers were living in wasn’t the nicest and it also wasn’t the worst. At the very least it wasn’t an old walkup, so that was nice. Your body still sort of ached after everything that had gone on a handful of nights ago so an elevator ride instead of six flights of stairs was a nice reprieve. Tony had parked the car right on the curb outside which was probably not the smartest idea but…

Was any of this? There wasn’t really a concrete plan here. Just to go talk to his aunt first to lay the foundation of lies that Peter had been accepted into the inaugural September Grant after applying, get her reaction on that, maybe do a little investigating… and then catch Peter unaware as he came home from school. Not to upset him or make him feel like something was wrong but so that he didn’t run or shy away from this.

Which he might- ...this also was probably a bad plan if you were trying to be delicate with him. Which you were, but… there were no manuals on how to raise superkids.

...was that what you were doing? The thought hit you like a truck. About the same time Tony had finished knocking on the apartment door. He must have sensed that you were zoning out. “Honey?”

Whatever answer you were going to give him died when the door opened and there in front of you stood a very stunned and confused May Parker. “Uh- hi. Hello?” Not really sure what to make of what was going on.

You put on your gentlest, winning-est smile. “Hi, Mrs. Parker. I hope we’re not interrupting.”

“Gosh. How could I ever say you two were interrupting anything? What is this, anyway? Am I on some new- uh… what’s going on?” While she’d been trying to joke about perhaps being pranked it must have been the way you and Tony were looking at her.

And the fact that two NYC-local-Avengers had just showed up to her door. And her kid was nowhere to be found. Still in school maybe. But the alternative was...

Tony picked the exact wrong words to say for someone who was still grieving a loss about three months in and suddenly burdened with over-anxiety about her kid’s whereabouts. “We actually came to talk about Peter. Can we come in? It’s a little drafty out in the hallway.”

Her hand tightened on the door. “Peter? Why? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” She was practically drowning you in her worries.

“Nothing yet.” You sent a little calmness her way hoping it would help. “We wanted to talk about his introduction into the September Grant society- and about a Stark Internship for him.”

Her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. “Oh- oh! I knew there was a reason he went to- never mind- come in! Yes. Please come in. Sorry. I’ll put on a pot of coffee.” She walked away from the door, suddenly harried with frantic excited energy. Tony closed it behind the both of you as you followed her in. “He was the happiest I’d seen him since- ...well, happiest in a little while, anyway. I don’t think I’d ever be able to repay you.” Her voice was floating in from the kitchen. “Did he apply when he went to the labs in December? It was such a big moment for him. I don’t think you’ll ever know what it meant to him.”

Peter probably wouldn’t be happy about her divulging all this information but… hearing it did do your heart a little bit of good. He’d needed something that day. You were glad to have been able to help. Tony put his hand in his pocket. “Yeah he uh… displayed some pretty keen talent. Would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

You followed up. “Which is why we wanted to talk to you. Make sure it’s okay with you. He did apply and we’re ready to offer it to him, but it’s a big commitment.”

Tony grinned her way as she looked up from the kitchen. “Wanted your blessing.”

She scoffed. “Who am I to say no to a thing like that?” Turning back she looked at the clock on the wall. “He should be home soon anyway. Can’t wait to see the look on his face.”

“Neither can we.” Said with the widest smile.

Eventually the coffee brewed and she sat the two of you down in the living room with some homemade walnut loaf and two mugs of her finest instant coffee. While you’d been fishing for more information about Peter, she turned the tide your way. “I thought it was awful what happened the other night. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Some days I don’t, either.” This was something you really didn’t want to talk about.

She seemed to understand. “Hell of a way to make a statement, though. Did you two pick out a date yet?” Smiling a little apologetically for the snafu.

Tony grinned. “If only she’d let me.”

“It would be tomorrow if I did.”

He made a face. “What’s wrong with that?”

May was smiling quite broadly. “You’re practically married already. What’s a piece of paper?”

Tony gestured to her. “A woman with good sense. See? She understands.”

Despite your best efforts to play offended you couldn’t help yourself, hiding another smile behind a sip of coffee but unable to hide your laughter as he gave you a little nudge. Whatever turn the conversation was headed towards, it stopped as the sound of keys jingling in the front door alerted you to Peter’s presence.

He walked in completely unaware, headphones plugged into his ears. He dropped his keys onto a table against the wall and let his backpack slide off his shoulder and down onto one arm. “May- there’s this really crazy car parked outside-” Then he turned.

And caught the sight of you and Tony sitting on his couch opposite his Aunt May. Shock wasn’t quite the color painting his guts. First came an abundance of excitement. It was bias that brought the thought but… his two favorite superheroes were sitting in his home. But soon after that realization dawned. And there was a serious sense of trepidation and fear. He thought he was in trouble. Huge, huge trouble.

After all. Why would Team Iron show up like this unannounced after what had happened? “Uh…”

You smiled up at him. “Hi, Peter. It’s nice to see you again.”

He shakily took his headphones out of his ears. “Y-yeah. ...yeah. You, too.” Then he pointed a nervous finger your way and started laughing just as nervously. “What- what are you two doing here?” Peter Parker was a far cry from the confident snarky show he put on as Spider-Man. But. Maybe that was on purpose.

Tony was grinning like a shark. Maybe he was enjoying this a little too much. “Yes, I’m here too. Nice to see you.”

Peter stood a little straighter. “Of course, Mr. Stark. Um… what’s going on?” He’d been almost caught red handed but he had to have known if you’d dared to say anything to his aunt about his web-slinging ways she’d probably have been screaming at him by now. So…

Tony put his arm over the back of the couch. “Didn’t you get our email?” And then he did the most ludicrous double-wink and you were just glad that May was focused on Peter because the three of you would have been busted after that.

This man had done missions for SHIELD. How was he this bad? You gave him a little secretive nudge with your elbow to keep him on track.

Peter folded his arms. “Uh- yeah…? Maybe? Regarding…?” Oh good. Peter was worse at this.

May shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me you applied for the grant?”

Peter made a vague gesture and finally decided to start playing along. “Right. The grant.”

You nodded. “The September Fund. Yes. You applied didn’t you?”

His brows went up. “...yeah?”

Tony pointed at him. “Well we approved.”

May made quite a face at him. “You didn’t tell me anything about this. What’s up with that? You’re keeping secrets from me now?”

This made you feel a little bad for him. Putting him on the spot right now. But it didn’t seem like it would put a chip in their relationship. Peter put his hands behind his back and shrugged. “I just- I know how much you like surprises. So… I thought I would let you know… when...” He drew in a breath and put his focus more intently on you and Tony. “Anyway- what did I apply for- exactly?”

Tony nodded. “That’s what we’re here to hash out.”

You held a hand up. “Actually. We’d like to go to our office. Sign some papers. Make it official.”

Peter seemed a little stuck. “Uh- alright- I uh… does this grant got money involved? Or whatever?”

Tony couldn’t exactly hold back a little chuckle. “Yeah. I mean. Look who you’re talking to.”

May was on her feet. “Well this is exciting. Is it alright if I- I mean I hope you don’t think it’s rude. Can I freshen up- maybe meet you there?”

Perfect. You stood. “Sure. We don’t mind. We’ll take Peter. I’ll have Happy come out to bring you.”

It looked like Peter wanted to object but he realized that might have been a huge mistake. So he didn’t. However he did offer- “I uh. I have homework and uh-”

May waved a hand at him. “Oh stop. You can do your homework later. This is the only time I’m giving you a free pass on that one mister so don’t waste it.”

Tony stood finally, and walked over to reach out and put a sturdy hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Come on, Mr. Parker. You can ask Mrs. Stark if she’ll let you ride shotgun in the crazy car parked outside.”

He shied away just a little. “That’s- that’s okay I’ll… I’ll sit in back…”

Which is exactly what he did after the three of you went all the way downstairs in silence. He was a little starstruck by the inside of the car but it didn’t hold a candle to the anxiety welling up inside him. And once you were a good distance away from the apartment building, as if he was scared May might hear, he finally did ask-

“So um… am I in trouble?”

Your smile was incredibly kind as you turned in your seat to look at him. “Of course not. I came here to say thanks for saving my life the other night. ...unless I have the wrong guy.”

He stared at you. Seeming to weigh his choices. When he took too long to speak, Tony looked up into the rearview. “Our intel’s pretty good but… not infallible. Still…” He breathed the word out. “Got a pretty strong feeling about this.”

Peter sank into his seat a little. And then he looked up at you and pleaded, “You cannot tell May about this.”

Your nod was a firm promise. “I told you, Peter. You’re not in trouble.”

He crossed his arms and pressed his lips together. “Sorry- then what is this?”

“We want to help you.”

“Help me?” Like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes, Peter.” You softened your tone up, getting him to relax almost immediately. “You.”

Nervous laughter in the apartment and cold anxiety in the car finally gave way and then broke completely. In their place was a warm smile. And the real Peter Parker. “Me.” Really, really not believing his luck. “Wow.”

Tony glanced up into the rearview again, but his own quirk of a grin was telling.

Neither of you had the resources or the knowhow to teach a young kid how to do the right thing or make the right moves or- ...god help him, be a superhero. But he already had a good head on his shoulders. He just needed…

Some direction.

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Ninety Six

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ikesenhell · 4 years

Text

The First Thing

You can find all other IkeSen/IkeVamp works of mine here! NOTES: AT LAST I RETURN. I made this almost explicitly to annoy @a-shout-to-the-void. I had to make an entire playlist to write this... you know that ‘boyfriend’ by Ariana Grande actually is very helpful for this? (and ‘bitches broken hearts’ by Billie Eilish, who knew) ---

When she started looking at him--really looking at him, investigating his features and cadence, memorizing the sound of his voice--she noticed his hands first. She never told him. If she’d asked what he wanted her to notice, she assumed Arthur would chuckle (in that delightful, infuriating, charming accent of his) and say, “Darling, aren’t there a thousand things about me you could look at?”

Famous author he was. ‘Pain in the ass’ could be added to that list.

His mouth was a liar and she wished it would shut up more often (the man wrote Sherlock Holmes and couldn’t catch a clue, apparently; his motor-mouth flirtations drove her insane). His eyes went along with the facade. What a liar the body could be!

But his hands? They were the crack in his armor. She learned the way he curled his fingers slow around mugs when he was thinking, curled playfully in teacup handles, rapped annoyance against his pockets. When nothing else in his flirtations gave him away, that did.

(As much as it was the chink in his mask, it was hers, too. It was the first thing she’d liked about him. His hands made her think he might even be tolerable.)

The second thing she liked was his idiosyncrasies. She wasn’t too given to sweets--she’d always preferred savory things--but the day she rapped on his door to deliver a fresh mug of coffee and a block of fudge, he was too distracted to disguise them.

“Set it down there,” he gestured, not rising from his typewriter (a horrific, spiderweb contraption that the Comte got for him and he so obviously hadn’t adapted to). “I’ll get to it.”

She set the platter down within his arm’s reach and set about collecting the other stray mugs around his room. When she turned, he was absently breaking off hunks of fudge and dropping it into the coffee, brow furrowed, chewing on his lip, pecking away with a single finger on the keys. It was almost charming. She thought about her grandfather doing his best with his home computer, hammering out emails punctuated with ellipses between his pointer fingers.

“Has no one taught you how to type on that?” She asked.

Arthur blinked owlishly over his frames at her. “Is there a certain way?”

Did Arthur Conan Doyle write by hand? She cast the thought from her mind and instead savored that he’d addressed her like a human being and not a snack conveniently wrapped in a skirt, that out of his vest and with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and the sweet abomination of chocolates in his coffee, he was almost lovable. She placed the last dirty mug on her tray and balanced it against her hip. “There is. There’s a hand placement that makes it easier. After that, it’s just practice.” A beat. “It’s sort of like playing the piano. Have you played?”

“No. I play violin.”

She almost asked, ‘like Sherlock Holmes?’ and thought better of it. “Well, I suppose it could be a little like that. Do you need anything else?”

“No. Thank you.” Arthur cast her a smile--a wonderful, ordinary smile. “I don’t suppose you’d teach this old chap how to type sometime?”

“I suppose I could do that, if Sebastian doesn’t need me at some point.”

Arthur’s eyes crinkled. “Well, do let me know.”

When she left the room, he was back to pecking away at the keyboard. She cast one glance back--he was slurping down the sludge of chocolate and sugar and coffee--and wondered if the warmth in her chest was something she ought to worry about.

---

The third thing she liked was his puppy. Vic was adorable; watching them cuddle and romp on the lawn behind the mansion warmed her heart. The spaniel bounded after her skirts as she hung the wash, rolled on her shoes and looked longingly up at her.

“Hey baby!” His head was silky under her fingers; obviously, he was cared for. Arthur, panting, caught up a few moments later.

“My apologies, my dear.” He played at an approximation of Napoleon’s bow, but too loose and formless, smiling all the while. It was so boyish and delightful that she smiled despite herself, heart surging. “It seems he’s gotten away from me. I’ll get him out from under you.”

“It’s no problem. I love dogs.” She scratched under the puppy’s chin, watching the tail wriggle on the grass. “I had one, actually. Her name was Neo, short for Neopolitan.”

“Neopolitan! What a divine name.” Arthur dove over Vic, nuzzling the spaniel. “Almost as regal as you, baby boy!”

She grinned and flapped out another shirt (one of Arthur’s, incidentally), pinning it to the line. “You’re not getting blood on your shirts anymore.”

“Am I not?” He shrugged, as if it were nothing at all. “Interesting. Vic! Want to play fetch?”

Vic yelped happily, darting away once more, and as Arthur cursed and scrambled to his knees after, she found herself watching as he ran.

---

Seasons turned, and so did they. As gradual as the waning months from summer’s height into the shimmering twilight of fall, everything changed.

“You know, my dear,” he said one night, hunched over the typewriter he still had not mastered (but he was using all of his fingers now at her instruction, which she considered a win), “I’m rather fond of you.”

“You’re fond of all women,” she replied easily, fixing his hand placement on the left. “You hit the ‘enter’ key with your little finger. Trying to use your ring finger like that is causing you problems.”

He wasn’t looking at the keys anymore. Those blue eyes were trained on her, mouth set in a long frown. “I’m serious.”

Was he? She faltered, uncertain of where to turn. Arthur showing vulnerability was almost impossible to comprehend. Was this a ploy? Was this how he lured so many women into his arms? Was this why his shirts were so often flecked with stranger’s blood? Come to think of it, that hadn’t happened in a while.

“I…” She trailed off. “I don’t know what you mean by that. I guess I’m getting close to everyone.”

His correction was as swift as sharp. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“Have you seen blood on my shirts recently? I’m not out looking for any old skirt to bring home.” He peered intently at her, waiting for a reaction. She stood stone-faced.

(Because what if he was just saying that? What if he--with all his quirks and humor and love of animals and quick tongue and razor mind--was playing the latest caper on her? What if he truly just thought she was someone to play with? What if this was all a sick game? Her heart hurt--it hurt, it hurt, it hurt under the weight of imagining him wrapping her in those arms, with the imagined long evenings in his room reading the latest books.)

“What,” she scoffed, disbelieving, “should I give you a piece of paper to check off to ask if you ‘like’ me or ‘like like’ me?”

Arthur cocked a brow. “Would that clarify things for you?”

She turned on her heel and left, swinging the bedroom door hard behind her.

---

Damn him, he was telling the truth.

Quizzing Theo was exactly as illuminating as she’d suspected it would be. He’d noticed Arthur’s recent change--that he came home from the bars at the same time without vanishing into some side room, that he was ordering alcohol (which he never did when he was chasing a woman), that he was drinking blanc like water (and he was, she could vouch to that--he kept ordering it to his room).

“Is there a reason for all the questions, Hondje?” Those piercing eyes cut straight through her. Determined to stay them, she slid another warmed pitcher of syrup to him.

“I mixed it with butter this time,” she told him. “The way my grandmother did. You’ll probably like it like that.”

He frowned, placated for the moment, and tested it on a bite of pancake. Success; his whole face illuminated. “Not bad, Knabbeltje.”

“Glad you like it.”

Theo reached out and caught her by the wrist before she could turn away, expression serious once more. “He’s fallen for you.”

(And she wanted to say ‘Good for him’ and pretend not to care, but she remembered the way his shoulders curved over a piece of paper as he wrote with an ink pen, how he could take the tiniest pieces of information and discover everything about it, how he’d smuggled so many of the encyclopedias into his bedroom that the Comte caved and bought Arthur a shelf full of his own, how he smiled when he was really and truly enjoying himself.)

She swallowed. “How do you know?”

Theo released her and leaned back in his chair, scowling as if he’d never cared to begin with. “Pretty sure you knew that already. If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be here asking me all this.”

---

It was raining cats and dogs that night, and she hadn’t talked to Arthur in three days. But he was heading out with Theo to the pub, and Sebastian was nowhere to be found, so she took it upon herself to find their raincoats. By the time she returned to the hall, only Arthur was standing there.

“Where did Theo go?” She asked.

Arthur shrugged and pointed up the steps. “He forgot his wallet.”

It sounded like a lie, but it wasn’t delivered like one. Arthur’s hands remained telltale still at his wrists, picking at the buttons. She draped Theo’s coat across the rack and held out Arthur’s, helping him into the sleeves. He let her adjust his raincoat, eyes never leaving hers, not once. She just busied herself with the buttons. Then he took one step forward, gloved hands pinning hers to his chest.

"I know what game you're playing," he whispered. Was he serious? Joking? It was impossible to tell. "You're waiting to see if I’m serious or simply indulging a passing fancy."

Theo wasn't back yet. She swallowed hard. "Am I?"

"You are." A pause. He trailed his nose against the ridge of her ear and she shivered. "If I break and pick up a skirt at the bar. If I come back with blood on my vest. If I have someone else's perfume on. You don't trust me--not yet."

Her fingers, somehow, were bunched in his vest. She tried to ease up, turned her head away from him. He just followed. The slope of his mouth skated down against her neck and she wondered what it would be like for him to leave a hickey there instead. Would it burn like her heart did around him? She could smell his cologne and coffee and fudge and ink and it all spelled ‘Arthur’ in cursive letters, etched in the most primal part of her soul.

"Maybe," she hedged, breathless.

"No 'maybes', Love," he sighed against her. "But I'm a stubborn man. You'll see. I meant every word."

---

His whole body wrote love letters to her.

She knew it, too. He was so touchy when she’d first arrived at the mansion, and now--now the gulf between them was thick with the promise of all he might do. Arthur lingered around her shoulders, his hands deftly handing her pins to hang the laundry when she dropped them in the garden, appearing as if summoned when she needed something from a high shelf. It made her ache.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she fussed at him in the pantry, soft so Sebastian couldn’t hear. Arthur smiled at her over his coffee mug, finger tapping. She was right.

“Am I?” He evaded.

“You are,” she pressed.

“What, praytell, am I doing?”

(Making me want you so badly I could scream. Ghosting around me.)

“Being a fucking dick.”

Arthur’s eyes blew wide with surprise, and then he laughed so loud and genuine that Sebastian appeared around the corner and squinted. “My! That’s a turn of phrase I didn't expect.”

“You deserved it,” she announced. “I’m not taking it back.”

She still corrected his typing when she came through to fetch his coffee mugs. He was fast now. The metallic hammer of keys echoed down the hall, silencing only when she entered. Thick flakes fluttered past his windowpane, falling in sheets over the gazebo, and Arthur looked up with a paintbrush and a capful of white oil paint.

She paused. “What are you doing?”

He scowled and motioned at the page. “Typo. That’s how I know I’m old; misspelling words that I ought to know better about. I found that it’s much easier to simply paint over the word, wind it back, and retype the blasted thing on top when it dries.”

Was that how White-Out got invented? She didn't mention that and instead commented lightly, “Smart.”

Arthur shot her a wink and a smile, turning in his chair and taking his coffee with murmured thanks. “What are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, I suppose. I was thinking about doing some journaling.”

His smile vanished into nothing, fingers rolling thoughtfully along the ceramic mug. At long last, he said, “Is that pressing?”

“I guess not. Why?”

“Then stay.”

Somewhere above them, Mozart’s piano started, a sonata he’d been slaving on for months. Apparently he’d finished it; the notes glided through the ceiling, echoing against her hammering ribs. Arthur waited, silent and pensive.

She swallowed. “What happens if I stay?”

“Nothing.” A beat. “Everything. Whatever you like.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Those blue eyes roved around the room, as if hiding all the things they could invent. “If I’m perfectly honest, I was thinking of a cuddle.”

“A cuddle? Just one?” She teased, propping her tray on her hip. “You Brits have to specify.”

He chanced a grin. “Well, perhaps more than one cuddle. We could sit together on the couch, perhaps read a while. Something quiet. Would that suit you?”

Overhead, Mozart hit a sour note of frustration and fell silent once more. She inhaled sharply.

“Two conditions.”

“I’ll have them.”

“One, I have to bring Sebastian his tray back. Two, I’m bringing you some rouge. You have to drink it beforehand.”

Arthur clicked his tongue, but smiled again. “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll take it.”

---

He was pacing when she returned, sleeves rolled back, a few books lying on the coffee table as if he would need to sell her on any of them. He didn't. She shut the door tight behind her and handed him the rouge (which he drank a little too quickly, fingers fumbling with the stopper as if he’d never seen the bottle before).

“Well.” He slumped into the couch, bringing his legs up with him. “I laid out some novels--”

“Great,” she replied, and settled inbetween his legs to rest on his chest. “You enjoy them.”

Arthur inhaled. His pulse thrummed wildly against her ear, the smooth plane of him comfortable and easy. “Do… do you want any of them?”

“No. I’ve been working all day. I’m alright with resting.”

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her shoulder, hands cool and nervous on her skin. “I’ll admit, I didn't expect you to just go for this.”

She paused only a moment before admitting, “If I didn't just do it, I knew I was going to be too scared.”

“Too scared for…?”

“Doing what I wanted to do.”

Arthur’s hand--one of those honest, understanding hands--slid upward into her hair, easing her body upward along his. He was all high-strung sinew and bone and flesh, reassuringly solid and hypnotizing. His mouth against her forehead was a relief; against her ear, a taste; against her jaw, a promise; against her shoulder, a tease.

“Stay tonight,” he whispered in the curve of her skin. Only Arthur could make begging sound seductive. “Here, with me. Don’t make me let you go. You’ve only just arrived, I can’t possibly let you go now.”

She entwined her fingers with his (the very first thing she’d ever liked about him), relishing the ghost of his mouth against her skin, and then--oh, there he was, his lips near hers, and regardless of who leaned first she tasted him with abandon. She was more given to savory things, but when it was him, she supposed a little sugar didn't hurt. His tongue tasted of chocolate and coffee and moved so slow and smooth that when they parted, she gasped.

“Please,” he murmured, and punctuated it by sucking on her lower lip (damn writers; they always knew how to end a sentence).

“I’ll think about it,” she breathed, knowing full well the answer. “But you can try and convince me.”

#ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #The First Thing #fluff #slow burn #Ikemen Vampire #Yesha Writes

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wicked-cupcake · 4 years

Text

A Safeguarded Meal

Characters: Lucifer, Beelzebub, Cadence (oc)

Words: 2855

Summary: He’d only asked for her to cook in his stead, had offered a reward in turn. But he isn’t sure what to do with the kindness he gets in return.

Notes: I really like a lot of the text chats in the game and think they’re fun jumping off points for ficlets. And since this is the only one I’ve managed to finish, I figured it was high time to post some writing again.

Could you not be on dinner duty more?

Look at this amazing meal you’re missing because you chose to work!

Too bad you can’t enjoy this hot off the stove~

“Tch,” Lucifer muttered, putting his phone away as he walked toward the front doors of the house. There were more messages from his brothers, that he wasn’t going to bother reading since he had no doubt they all pertained to the dinner he’d missed. He’d had his phone muted, except for emergency contacts, while he worked, wanting to get through as much of it as he could, and he’d only turned them back on while on the way home.

He regretted it now that he’d been flooded with texts and images of the meal Cadence had made in his stead.

Some of them he knew were innocent enough, honest praise that they were glad that he’d picked Cadence to make the meal. But the majority of them he knew it was pokes at him not being able to enjoy it.

Pushing open the front door, he heard the little scurrying of feet as the little D’s scattered from the entrance way before it was nothing but silence. He stood there, one hand on the closed door, and listened. Normally he didn’t like it when the house was this quiet. It generally meant that his brothers weren’t here. Had some of them taken advantage of him coming home late to sneak out? He wouldn’t put it past Mammon and none of the others were going to bother trying to stop him. Cadence could have if she’d ordered him to and actually meant it, but so far as he could tell she was avoiding doing that.

What was the point of making pacts if she wasn’t going to try to command the demons she had at her disposal?

Lucifer shook his head. He’d figured out fast that trying to guess what was going on in Cadence’s head was a waste of his time. There was simply no way he would get it right. It was best if he just continued keeping tabs on her and tried to control the damage as much as he could.

His mouth twisted as his stomach cramped. He hadn’t bothered with food while he was working, using the work as a distraction from the hunger. There was no distracting himself now. Especially not with the reminder of the meal he had missed.

Nothing to do about it but eat. Hopefully Beel had been sated enough that he could find something in the kitchen to throw together for his own dinner. He was sure there would be food but whether or not it was going to be actually decent was still left to be seen.

Lucifer paused as he reached the kitchen. The door was open and he had a clear view in at the table. And the two people seated across from each other at it. Beel wasn’t a surprise. Even with dinner long over, he had come back for more. But what was Cadence doing here?

He watched for a moment, trying to figure it out. The pair of them weren’t talking, his brother eating and her reading a book in front of her. She had her chin propped in her hand as she lazily turned the pages. If all she wanted to do was read, why hadn’t she stayed in her room? The kitchen wasn’t exactly the best place for it.

He frowned as he stepped into the kitchen. “What are you two doing?”

Cadence looked up and Beel tossed him a glance. “Welcome back,” she said quietly.

His brother echoed the greeting, albeit with a little more mumbling as he was still eating.

“That wasn’t an answer,” Lucifer said dryly. “I can see what Beel’s doing but why are you here?”

Cadence hummed softly and he watched as she pushed a covered dish in his direction. “Guarding this.”

Lucifer’s frown deepened. “What is that?”

“Your dinner,” Beel said before she could. “Caden said we had to save you a plate since you weren’t there to have it with us. Mammon thought it was a dumb idea so I came in here to help her keep it safe.”

He blinked slowly, looking at the pair of them. They were guarding his dinner?

“I just figured, if you had to stay to keep working, you wouldn’t take time to eat,” Cadence said, lifting the cover off to reveal a plate of food identical to the one his brothers had sent. “I thought it would be nice for you to come home to a meal that you didn’t have to make.”

He’d only asked her to cover his dinner shift, had promised to make it up to her when she’d agreed so easily, but what was he supposed to do about this? As sharp as she could be, it was easy to forget that she did things simply to ‘be nice’. The concept of someone else doing something for his family without any thought of how they could benefit from it was still foreign enough to catch him off guard. But he’d never forget the puzzled look she’d given him the first time he’d asked what her price was.

“Price for what? Being nice? Lucifer, I know you’re demons but is it really that hard to understand that I don’t want anything back?”

Yes, it is, Cadence, he thought, moving into the room. He chose to ignore the smile that bloomed on her face as he shrugged out of his coat and settled on the stool beside hers. But he still saw it.

“It’s really good, Lucifer. You’re lucky Caden made so much of it because everyone had seconds,” Beel said, pushing off his chair to head toward the fridge. “She even got me to put a spell on the plate to keep it warm for you so it would taste the same as what we had. Do you want something to drink?”

What was the point of going to so much effort if she didn’t want something in return? She’d already made several pacts with his brothers, had gotten a dinner out of him for the abyssal way he’d treated her, and still she did this? He slanted a look at Cadence and saw that she’d returned to her book. “Does the chef have any recommendations?”

“It’s meant to go with a white wine,” she said without looking up.

“Did you serve that to the others as well?”

Cadence snorted. “No. I let them do what they wanted. I know better than to put alcohol on the table with them.”

Most likely because once they had a glass or two, some of them would try to get her to drink as well. Demonic alcohol and humans did not always mix well and he was glad that she was taking his warnings into account. “White wine then.”

She flashed him a faint smile but her focus was clearly on her book.

He didn’t look away from her immediately. He had been tired of looking at names when he’d finally chosen hers to be the second exchange student. With Solomon being the other, he’d figured a nice, normal human would be a good thing to have as a counterpoint. But Cadence had shown him that there was no normal where humans were concerned.

Starting on his meal before it went cold, Lucifer nodded at Beel as he set the wine glass down in front of him and took his seat again. But his gaze was drawn to the book. It only took reading a few lines over her shoulder to realise that it was part of the curriculum. For next month. “Getting a head start?” he asked mildly.

She hummed. “Everything has a bad habit of going sideways in this place. I figured if I had the time to read, I might as well.”

“And this month’s?”

“Already done and synopsis written so I won’t forget.”

He got regular reports from the faculty on how the exchange students were faring with their classes and they’d all said the same thing about her. Cadence took her studies seriously, even if they were completely new to her because they were rooted in the Devildom, and was doing very well in all of her classes. She wasn’t afraid to ask questions no matter how simple they seemed and he’d seen her when she was studying in the music room. She was determined when it came to school and he….

Lucifer paused before the next bite. And he what? Was proud? He had no reason to be proud of her, she wasn’t family. Yes, he’d chosen her to be here but that didn’t mean anything. She was under his care so her successes would reflect well on him. But he knew himself well enough to know it wasn’t that and that he didn’t want to think about what it could be.

The silence in the kitchen wasn’t oppressive as it fell completely over them; in fact it was quite the opposite. Beel was always good company and Cadence’s quiet presence was oddly comforting. Other humans he’d been around had loud and annoying auras, so much poured into it because of how shortly they lived. Yet Cadence was a silent, blank spot beside him. Everyone had noticed it that first time they’d ‘lost’ her. She didn’t give off an aura that was easy to find and it made him wonder all over again just how ‘normal’ she was. Asmo claimed she had deeper magic than Solomon but she hadn’t done anything to give them that impression. There wasn’t anything that should have set her apart from any other human on the street and yet she had snared four of his brothers already.

Sipping at his wine, he looked at her again. She was making notes on a small pad of paper beside her as she read, her handwriting crisp and clean even though he knew she was only going to rewrite them. Who was this little human that could move his brothers the way she had? Who was this little human that fascinated him-

Lucifer slammed that thought down before it fully formed. That was simply asking for trouble he did not want or need. She was only going to be here for a year. He wasn’t so foolish to think that there would be anymore than that and she was….

Cadence sighed suddenly and stretched. “I’m going to finish this in my room,” she said, packing up her things. “I hope you liked the meal, Lucifer.”

“It is well done, Cadence.” It was just as good as every meal she had prepared for them so far. Better somehow. “Give some thought to what I said.”

The corner of her mouth kicked up in her crooked half smile and she looked at Beel. “Thanks for helping me,” she said.

“Do you want to take some custard with you?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I learned my lesson with you and custard but thank you. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Beel said his goodbyes and Lucifer nodded. But he froze in his seat as her hand slid along his arm as she passed him. One stroke, from shoulder to elbow, with just enough pressure for him to feel it. He barely moved but his gaze shifted, following her out the door. What was that? Why had she done that?

He’d seen her absently touch his brothers, small presses of her hand to them. He’d seen all of them light up every time she’d done it. But she’d never done it to him. He didn’t spend as much time with her and he kept his respectable distance. He didn’t give her much of an opportunity to get close. He hadn’t wanted the same kind of familiar intimacy that touch suggested. All that and more ran through his head when he saw her do it to anyone else but not him.

So why did he suddenly feel like he’d been missing out on something?

“Do you not like it?”

Lucifer looked to see Beel giving him a confused look. “I already said that it was good. I wasn’t lying. Cadence is a good cook.”

Beel shook his head, his mouth pulling down in a puzzled frown. “No not that.”

Lucifer returned his brother’s frown. “Then what?”

“Her touching you. You got this funny look on your face when she did it. Kind of like you ate something that didn’t taste the way you expected?”

Of course Beel would relate it back to food. But he hadn’t realised his brother had been watching or that he had made any type of face in response to her touch. How did he answer that though? He already had enough lies and secrets on his plate where his brothers were concerned; he didn’t want to add to it.

Beel sighed and went back to his meal. “She does it a lot,” he said around a bite. “Have you noticed? I think it’s because she’s warming up to us. Properly. She’s kinda like you.”

Lucifer snorted. “How is Cadence remotely like me?”

“She doesn’t really let people in. Or she does but it’s just on the surface. No one really knows a lot about her, she’s good at deflecting the conversation, and-” Beel paused, dark eyes flicked up to Lucifer before back down.

“And?” he prompted when his brother didn’t continue.

“People are scared of her because they don’t understand her,” he muttered.

“People are scared of me because of who I am, Beel, and they should be.”

“Also because they don’t understand you,” he insisted. “You’re not scary all the time.”

He wanted to ask how Cadence was even remotely scary when she was barely over five feet tall, but he’d heard the story of what had happened with the lack of coffee one morning. She had snapped as hard as Satan and put a certain kind of fear into his brothers that he admired.

“And she’s lonely.”

Lucifer paused in eating to look at his brother. Beel had said it so quietly, as if the words had slipped out unbidden. But was it because it applied to Cadence or that his brother thought it applied to him? “I’m not lonely. I have all of you and Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer assured his brother.

The look Beel gave him cut into him. “You don’t really let us in either, Lucifer. Not anymore.”

There was nothing he could say to that.

Beel gave him a smile and shrugged. “I think you two would get along really well if you spent more time together,” he said, finishing what was on his plate.

“We all live in the same house.”

“Yeah, but you don’t do things with her. You really should. She’s actually fun when she opens up and she’s really good at cooking. She made me these cookies the other day that had this frosting on them that tasted like candy. She won’t tell me how she did it but she promised to make more.”

Lucifer smiled faintly. Of course she was winning Beel over further with her cooking. But listening to Beel talk about her made him realise that he was right. He did barely spend any time with her. What time he had had mostly been spent either apologising or explaining things to her. Or threatening to end her life.

His mouth flattened before he smoothed his expression out. The whole point of this exchange program was to build bridges between the realms. How were they supposed to do that when he wasn’t building anything with the student living under the same roof as him? But what was there to do? The one time he’d taken her shopping he’d seen how much she’d balked at what he’d spent for her. “What is she even interested in?” he mused.

“Lots of things. Satan said he took her to an art showing at the museum and she loved it. She plays games with Levi. Her and Mammon are devouring every series Levi gives them. Asmo takes her shopping and we go looking for new places to eat. She really liked that horror movie night we had too.”

All things very keyed to his brothers or them as a group, but what of his interests would line up with hers? Rolling his wine glass between his hands, he thought about it before smiling. Opening night was coming soon. Perhaps he could interest her in another dinner and a show this time. She was always holed up in the music room to do her homework and had started actually playing music for them to hear so they knew she was in there. Perhaps….

“Are you going to finish your meal?”

Lucifer gave Beel a dry look. “I’m not going to waste the effort that went into keeping it safe.”

“Could always ask her to cook it again for you. Or something else. She said she’d make cheesy omelettes again on her next breakfast shift.”

She’d definitely won Beel over...and he wasn’t opposed to having more of her cooking.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me oc #obey me fanfic #cadence rusu

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irandrura · 4 years

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Now, just for fun, I’m going to list everyone I recruited and give some brief thoughts on each one. If I spend more time on a person, it’s because I found them more interesting, or did more supports, or the like.

I did go a bit overboard recruiting people, but I feel validated by that decision considering the number of people I might have had to kill otherwise. As it is I only had to kill two people I didn’t want to – Lorenz and Caspar; Linhardt also appeared but I was able to avoid him – and while I’m sad, especially since I should have gotten Caspar for the paralogue with Mercedes and the Death Knight, it could have been a lot worse.

I will, however, skip the four DLC kids, since apparently you need to start their supports in White Clouds, I missed them, and didn’t feel like going back. So I don’t have the content there.

Here we go:

Byleth: I covered some of my thoughts on him in the post on Jeralt. I wouldn’t say that I dislike Byleth as such, but because Byleth has no dialogue and has few definite character traits beyond “doesn’t show emotion much” and maybe “likes being a teacher”, there isn’t much to work with. I suppose I find Byleth a serviceable enough player avatar protagonist, but if I were writing fan fiction or anything, I think I would need to work hard to develop a memorable personality for Byleth. As it is, Byleth only works because you imagine yourself in his or her shoes.

Sothis: I was originally quite worried about Sothis, since I thought she might be too sexualised. Fire Emblem has a bit of a tradition of uncomfortable loli characters, but fortunately in the game itself Sothis was not that bad, and definitely walks back the creepiness level from someone like Nowi. Instead it felt a bit more like Byleth was playing the same role as Micaiah, with a child-like fragment of the goddess accompanying him. I suspect other routes do more with Sothis, though, because on this route, you could probably cut Sothis from the game entirely without losing much. Azure Moon seems to be the route that is least interested in the history of the goddess, so I should not judge too prematurely.

Dimitri: The hero of this route, even if he sometimes feels like an anti-hero, or even just a psychotic maniac we unfortunately have to deal with. Of the three house leaders, I think it’s fair to say that Dimitri looks the most like a traditional FE protagonist, but as it shakes out, he might be one of the least. He seems to be quite straitlaced, reliable, and even bland at the start, but a lot of that turns out to be a cover and he goes on a real emotional journey, I suspect to a much greater extent than the other two. I do think his emotional arc goes a bit too fast and the game should have spent more time on it, but it was still a good idea, and I genuinely appreciate just how messed up and traumatised Dimitri is. He has issues, he suffers, he runs off into the wilderness and talks to ghosts, but I like it. I feel like he validates the idea that it’s okay to not have everything together. For him, overcoming his demons was the real triumph, and defeating the Empire was just a coda.

Dedue: He reminds me quite a bit of the Tellius games, with their overall subtheme of selfless service and lord/vassal relationships. Like Dimitri, he has issues, but because he’s such a quiet and reserved person, it can be easy to miss them. I suspect he’s a very easy character to misinterpret as well, both IC and OOC, where the temptation for Westerners to interpret him in terms of contemporary racial politics is going to cause problems. But ultimately I quite liked him, and felt that his faithful service really ennobles the person he serves. My one concern or regret around Dedue is that he isn’t present during the period of Dimitri’s madness, so we never get to see how his dedication to his lord might be tested. Would he enable or even encourage Dimitri’s instability? On the other hand, it seems like the belief that Dedue was dead was a major contributor to Dimitri’s madness in the first place, so perhaps if he’d been around, he would have held his friend back from the brink.

Felix: I like that Felix never stops entirely being an asshole. As time goes by his abrasiveness seems less important, and you get a better understanding of why he feels the way he does, but he’s still a bit of a jerk even to the very end, and that’s part of who he is. I also appreciate that he plays a useful role in being the only Blue Lion who actively dislikes knights and chivalry, so he’s important for the way he can provoke the others into justifying themselves. After all, the Blue Lions are a bit of a knight fan club, and he provides some contrast. Nonetheless, for all his scowling, he is a faithful retainer and can be relied on.

Ashe: He’s just a sweetheart, really. A commoner background contrasts nicely with the others, his lockpicking skill is useful, and he’s just generally very genuine and kind. Plus his appearance and voice-acting sell that he’s a bit younger than the others and on the callow side. I feel like he’s one of the characters who grows most in overall maturity, and his journey towards knighthood is probably the longest. He was a character I relied on a lot and I never got tired of him taking down the boss with a single arrow from halfway across the map. In my playthrough he ended up together with Petra and I am sure the knightly order they create will go on to be fantastic.

Sylvain: I’m a little confused by Sylvain. Early on it seems like he irrepressibly flirts with every girl he sees and always gets dumped, but later on, in part two, he clarifies that girls constantly flirt with him because they want to marry into a bloodline with a crest. It seems like it can’t be both ways? I suppose the best reading might be that Sylvain constantly flirts with strangers, who don’t know his heritage or his crest, while rejecting advances from people who do know about them, because what he really wants is someone who loves him as a person, not as a mere opportunity to increase in social status. For someone who seems so cheery and laid-back on the outside, he actually has some real problems beneath it all. That said, at times I was a bit suspicious of the translation: there are a few opportunities to call him a jerk, and I wonder if those were added, since otherwise his flirting seems like it’s presented as harmless, fun, or even a charming character quirk.

Mercedes: I didn’t think a whole lot of Mercedes at first: the caring healer character appears in a lot of FE games, she didn’t seem to put much of a twist on it, and I found her voice acting a little stilted at first. I suppose, to be fair, a soon-to-be-ordained friend of mine has a similar cadence, so it’s possible, but it did throw me off a little. For the most part I found Mercedes very reliable and my primary healer/mage, but I think a more full judgement of her character will need to wait until I do her paralogue with Caspar. Her family background and relationship with the Death Knight seem key to understanding her.

Annette: The translators and voice actor were clearly having fun with her dorky improvised songs, and I love them. They’re great. That said, Annette didn’t really come alive for me as a character until she got to interact with Gilbert. He’s probably a more interesting character than she is, really, but their relationship is what makes them both start to stand out. Overall I find her likeable and reliable, but, Gilbert aside, not one of the most fascinating characters on the roster.

Ingrid: Again, a quite straightforward character in many ways. She wants to be a knight. She trains hard. She becomes a knight. Okay. I did find it a bit odd that even at the end of the game she still talks about wanting to be a knight, even though she’s spent the last few missions entirely in the Falcon Knight and Holy Knight classes, has battled across the continent at the side of her liege, and has defeated countless enemy champions. Eventually I wanted to ask her, “What more could you possibly need to do before you’re a knight?” There is some drama around marriage and social expectations for her as well, and it surprised me that it took her so long to figure out that she could be a knight and serve her family. Her family don’t want a political alliance through marriage or anything: it is specifically money and resources that they need. Knighthood seems like a career that can bring you great wealth – plunder, ransoms, tournament rewards, etc. – so it seems like knighthood, no less than marriage to a wealthy noble after a crest, could be a path to restoring her family’s fortunes. (Also, she was the one I S-supported, so I suppose the marriage plan worked out anyway. *shrug*)

Ferdinand: Everything about him is laser-focused on this question of, “What is nobility?” At times it got a bit tedious, and I wanted him to just shut up about being a noble for five minutes. However, while he laid it on a bit thick sometimes, what I like about him is the way that his character development seems like it could really change based on which route he ends up in. After Edelgard declares war and dispossesses his father, he has a really interesting choice to make: take up arms against her and join the resistance, or accept her offer of rank and power in the Empire. Since I recruited him at the very last minute, in the last month before the assault on the monastery, I might have imagined him struggling with that choice, and I like to picture him debating the importance of visible rank and status to the nobility that he tries so hard to achieve. I could easily imagine him going either way on that choice, believing in Edelgard’s vision or passionately warring against it, and that to me made him much more interesting.

Bernadetta: Her voice actor was clearly having a ton of fun. The energy she brought to the role made the character very entertaining to listen to. That said, I feel bad for her: her extreme social anxiety is sometimes played for laughs, but knowing that it’s the result of an abusive childhood makes it quite a bit less funny. Oddly my favourite support with her was Bernadetta/Sylvain, mainly because of the supports that I saw, he was the only one who made a serious attempt to respect her boundaries and to communicate with her in a way she would find comfortable. Seriously, writing her a letter and tucking it into a book was quite clever and sensitive of him... even if he ruined it by just walking up afterwards and saying hello.

Dorothea: Judging from the online stats the game showed on loading screens, Dorothea must be one of the most popular characters in the game, and was deployed almost every mission. This makes it a bit awkward that I never really deployed her at all, or focused much on her. I don’t have anything against her, and she seems interesting enough, but I suppose I already had enough mages and other people were higher priority. Oh dear. Maybe next time. She seems to be a popular choice for the dancer class, but since I made Marianne my dancer…

Petra: On the other hand, I did like Petra a lot, built her as an assassin, and got a lot of use from her. I wonder what her odd speech pattern is in Japanese? Looks like in Japanese she misunderstands idioms, rather than misuses the present continuous tense. At any rate, I really like the role Petra plays in worldbuilding, since her status as an outsider taken to the empire to be educated as a hostage serves to characterise both Brigid and the empire itself. Like Ferdinand, I also think she’s in a fascinating position where she could plausibly end up either pro- or anti-empire. I enjoyed being able to fight for freedom and self-determination, but I could also see her buying into Edelgard’s vision of a reformed empire. That sort of flexibility seems really valuable in a game with different routes like this.

Raphael: Unfortunately another character I recruited only at the last minute and didn’t get to spend that much time with. The fact that I avoided brawlers probably didn’t help. However, from what I did see, I liked that they included a character who genuinely struggles with his studies, and I also thought it interesting that he presents yet another character who wants to be a knight, but for a totally different reason. Ashe has a romantic view of knighthood; Ingrid has a relatively romantic view as well but also thinks of fighting for her ideals; Felix outright hates knighthood and chivalry as a bunch of lies. In contrast, Raphael’s pragmatism is a little refreshing. He just wants to support his family, given his strength fighting seems like a good way to do it, and knighthood promises more stability than mercenary work. Good for him.

Ignatz: And yet another character thinking about knighthood, albeit again for a different reason. He doesn’t want to be a knight as such, but has to because it’s his duty. At times even I got a bit sick of the game constantly talking about knighthood, but the wide range of opinions on it was definitely a good thing. Alas, all Ignatz wants to do is paint and worship the goddess. Sadly I used Ashe as my main archer, so I didn’t see as much of Ignatz as I might have liked. Another playthrough, then.

Lysithea: See above, really. I get the impression she’s a quite popular character, but as with Dorothea, I already had a few mages and didn’t have much need for her. I’m guessing she would have a lot more importance on a route where her backstory with what are presumably creepy Slitherer magical experiments is more relevant? As it is, sorry, I just didn’t see that much. Young, likes sweets, ambitious in order to help her family because she hasn’t got long to live… but that’s about all I got.

Marianne: On the other hand, I did use Marianne quite extensively. She was my backup healer after Mercedes, and she was my dancer, so she was very useful. (Some might say it was cruel to make her dance in public: I thought it might help build her confidence!) Her paralogue also stood out to me as one of the most interesting and fun. At first I thought her self-loathing might be irrational or a symptom of depression, but it turns out that she actually has quite an understandable reason for thinking that she’s awful and that no one should ever get close to her. Bringing peace to her ancestor and giving her the opportunity to increase her confidence and bloom as a person was very heartwarming. Her character arc gave me some WAFFy feelings, and I enjoy that sometimes.

Leonie: It’s weird to me that a character defined by her relationship with Jeralt, the player’s father, is so easy to miss recruiting. Nonetheless I did pick her up, because I love cavaliers and use far too many of them. Still, most of the other cavaliers were nobles, which made Leonie’s role as a mercenary knight a nice change. I think it might have worked better, though, if I’d known a bit more about the role of mercenaries in Fódlan. Are there mercenary companies? How do they usually find work? It would have been nice to know a bit more about the world that Byleth supposedly comes from, and which Leonie is so keen to break into.

Seteth: I was not a big fan of Seteth at first, but he grew on me, which surprises me particularly since I was on a route that never actually explains what his deal is. I feel like every long-term series fan, on meeting Seteth and Flayn, must have gone “oh they’re dragons”, because they fit that archetype just so closely, but somehow I got through the entire arc without anyone figuring it out. Nonetheless, while he starts off as quite suspicious of you, and even hostile, I enjoyed how further supports gradually humanised him. Seteth/Felix or Seteth/Ingrid, for instance, stood out to me as nice: the older man going out of his way to give practical advice to someone who’s still sorting himself or herself out. He’s a good mentor. I know often the thing people remember about Fire Emblem is the young protagonists and the shipping and so on, but sometimes it’s the older, more mature characters that I find the most interesting.

Flayn: In contrast, I did not find Flayn as interesting as Seteth. She’s a nice enough person, and the enthusiasm of the Flayn/Dedue support was cute, but ultimately I didn’t see that much of her. Mercedes and Marianne were my primary healers, and Byleth had a high Faith skill as well, so I didn’t need another one and didn’t take her along that often. I hope there are more depths, because as it is, I wasn’t that struck by her.

Hanneman: Another character I generally did not take along, so most of what I learned about Hanneman was around crests and his scientific curiosity. I think Hanneman supports my previous speculation that Fódlan might be starting on an intellectual renaissance at the time of the game. He is the Father of Crestology, even though crests have been known for a thousand years. That suggests that the organised, academic study of such matters is in its infancy.

Manuela: Again, not someone I looked at too closely, and her most obvious character trait, her romantic loneliness, could be a little bit cringeworthy at times. I would have to do more supports and look more closely at her to form a stronger opinion. The parts that I found most interesting with regard to her were about her history with the opera. Her relationship with Dorothea seems like it might reveal some more about both of them, but alas I didn’t use each character much.

Gilbert: On the other hand, I did use Gilbert quite a lot, since Dedue went missing for a while and I needed a substitute tank. Gilbert is clearly a loyal man who has suffered an immense amount, especially under the weight of guilt and self-doubt. It’s striking that he abandoned his family and homeland and fled to the church in order to assuage the weight of guilt he felt for the king’s death; but in the end the separation from his family only intensified feelings of guilt and unworthiness. Nonetheless, despite being a man who’s really screwed quite a lot up, he stoically tries to coordinate the Faerghus war effort, even when Dimitri is in his worst state. I was very glad to eventually get the Annette/Gilbert paired ending, as a valuable reminder that even at Gilbert’s age, it is possible to start healing and putting your life back together.

Alois: I really only got the Byleth support with Alois, so I don’t have that much to say. His cheery optimism is a nice change after a lot of the other faculty and knights are either serious or sad, and I enjoy horrible puns as much as the next man, but I think I need to see more.

Catherine: Speaking of cheery knights, Catherine’s rough-and-tumble confidence is also pretty appealing. Unlike the students, Catherine is strong and she knows that she’s strong, with a confidence that comes of years of fighting. What I saw of her personality I generally liked, and I learned a bit about her history, but I’m going to hold off on any further comments until I get some more context for her and Rhea. She is obviously incredibly devoted to the archbishop who saved her life, and in some ways seems to have reinvented her life from who she was before (cf. Dedue, the loyal service theme again), but I think I should need to see a route where Rhea plays a larger role before I come to conclusions.

Shamir: I like Shamir quite a lot, and she might be my favourite of the knights, even though she doesn’t have much to do with the actual plot. Her outsider status is the most striking thing about her: unlike pretty much everyone else, she has no personal investment in Fódlan or its politics, which frees her to focus on the needs of the moment. I would like to know a bit more about Dagda and Brigid, to be honest, but I suspect I’ve seen all there is to see already...

Cyril: Unfortunately I never used him. I can tell that he’s the Est of the game, a young character who probably has excellent growths and can excel in any class, but my roster felt pretty complete by the time I got him, he didn’t seem like he had interesting relationships with other characters that I might want to explore, and he’s so young that I feel uncomfortable making him a soldier. I can completely accept that there might be really good material around him, perhaps especially on the Golden Deer route where Almyra might come up, but as it is I don’t know any of it.

Anna: Yep, she’s Anna. Not much to say. Anna is always the same character, and Fódlan’s Anna doesn’t seem particularly special or unique.

…phew, that took much longer than I thought. These games and their giant casts, man.

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raleighcarrera · 3 years

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circles

platinum | shane parker x mc (cadence dorian)

shane and cadence have been best friends their entire lives. so why do things feel so different when she comes to visit him at college? set pre-book. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @withbeautyandrage

~3.1k words | T

“it’s not like that.” it feels like at least the fourth or fifth time he’s said as much since he first casually mentioned that cadence would be coming to visit this weekend, much to the delight of his friends. “we’ve been best friends our whole lives. that’s it.”

“sure,” angelica grins, looking just about as far from angelic as any one person can get. “if you say so.”

devon takes a less patronizing approach. she shrugs, not looking up from where she’s filing her nails. “i don’t buy it. you don’t go through puberty with someone without having at least a little sexual tension with them.”

“oh my god,” shane groans, “will you guys stop? we’ve never -- i don’t -- we’re just friends.”

evan, his roommate, hums. “just let me know if you need me to clear out tonight, okay? casey said i could bunk with him.”

“if you guys don’t shut up, i swear to god --”

there’s a chorus of protests from around the table, several whispered exhalations of touchy, i see and hands being raised placatingly. he rolls his eyes, picking up his empty plate. it’s time to go pick cadence up from the bus stop, like -- now. “just please be normal when she gets here, okay?”

“we will if you will!” angelica calls out after him. laughter follows him as he exits the dining hall, and he only exhales once he’s halfway to his car, shaking his head.

his college friends are far from the first group of people to assume that there’s something more than just friendship between he and cadence. his own parents have implied a number of times that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if they got together, and that’s about a girl that’s slept over at his house more times than he can count, a girl who he went through his power rangers phase with, a girl who saw him through middle school and high school and still somehow liked him enough to call him her best friend.

he’s gotten very good at ignoring comments from people who don’t understand their relationship or even think it’s weird how close they are, so being teased by his friends doesn’t bother him as much as it makes him roll his eyes.

shane’s used to the judgments others cast on what’s always been nothing more than a mutually supportive and wholly enjoyable friendship. still, for some reason, it’s a little tougher to shake off this time than in the past, and he finds that some of their comments have poked at certain sore spots he didn’t even know he had.

he’s uneasy, as he ducks his head and jogs across campus.

it’s probably going to be a very long and very strange weekend.

true to form, cadence is beaming when she hops off the bus, the last person to exit the doors that swing open at the campus stop. she’s looking around at everything wide-eyed, like she’s never seen a college campus before, which is hilarious, given that she’s just come from one.

but the tiny performing arts school she attends a few states away is surely at least a little bit different than their hometown state college, a giant university with nearly one-hundred thousand students in attendance.

she rushes over with her duffel and he feels himself grinning back at her as soon as she’s close enough for him to see how bright her eyes are, behind her glasses.

she really is very pretty.

shaking his head, he folds her into the biggest hug he has, making a little oof sound when cadence squeezes him so tightly it leaves him short of breath.

“oh my god, hi,” she squeals into his ear, bouncing up and down on her tip-toes. “i missed you so much. it’s been forever!”

it’s been just about three months, since they said goodbye at her grandma’s house in august the night before they both had to leave to go move in. and while in some ways it feels like they were just together, especially given how they’re constantly in contact, he knows exactly what she means. it definitely also feels like it’s been way too long since he last held her exactly like this.

“i’m so glad you’re here,” he murmurs in return, pulling away to reach for her bag for her. “there’s so much i want to show you.”

“i know!” cadence exclaims, back to smiling at everything again. “i can’t wait to meet all your friends. but -- come on, i’m freezing. first let me see your dorm.”

right. his room. where she’ll be sleeping... with him.

it wasn’t like that’d never happened before. of course it had. you didn’t get to be lifelong best friends without squeezing into a few strange sleeping arrangements. he and cadence had shared a bed, a couch and the same stretch of floor before without even an ounce of weirdness affecting their relationship.

so he can only assume that the reason why it feels suddenly strange, this time, is because of the way his friends had just been teasing him and how uncomfortably close to home some of their comments had landed.

devon’s voice in particular flashes through his mind again as he does his best not to stare at cadence and her leggings and the sweater that’s slipping off her shoulder: you don’t go through puberty with someone without having at least a little sexual tension with them.

shaking his head to dispel the unwelcome flipping of his stomach, shane jerks his thumbs at the far side of campus with a grin. “right this way.”

like always, he finds himself waiting around for her to finish getting ready.

they’re not due at the pregame for another hour, so he’s free to catch up with her (alone, thank god -- evan is meeting them out) while she gets her makeup on, his eyes lingering on the precise movement of her dainty hands applying eyeshadow while she talks a mile a minute about her bus trip earlier that day.

“-- and there was this little girl making bracelets at the terminal, she was so cute. i gave her five dollars and she made me this keychain for my bag on the bus. isn’t it so good?” she sets down her concealer to reach for the beaded lizard hanging off the edge of her duffel. “so cute, right?”

“have you ever gone anywhere without making friends with someone?” shane asks instead of answering, smiling fondly at her. “i swear you could hold a conversation with a brick wall.”

cadence laughs, turning back to the tiny compact mirror balanced on her knees. despite the less-than-ideal environment of his very bare and very poorly lit dorm room, she still looks flawless, brushing highlighter on her cheek until it’s glittering.

he realizes he’s staring again and averts his eyes guiltily. why does he feel guilty? it’s just cadence. have a few simple months apart made him completely forget how to act around her?

“well, the drive would’ve been boring without anyone to talk to,” she answers finally, “and you were in class.”

“i’m surprised you didn’t bring something to read,” he muses. there’ve been plenty of times he’s had to rip a book out of her hands so she’d pay attention to him and the movie he was trying to show her, after all.

“god, i just wanted a break from anything academic,” cadence groans, “midterms ruined my life. do you feel like college is a thousand times harder than high school, or is it just me? most of the time i thought everyone had to be exaggerating, but -- i don’t know.” she fidgets on the rug, flicking her eyes up to his. “it’s not like how i thought it’d be.”

shane holds her gaze quietly. college isn’t like how he thought it’d be, either -- it’s actually a little bit better. but it’d be impossible to say so now that she’s admitted she’s struggling.

one thing is exactly like he’d imagined it, though: he misses her just as much as he’d expected to. it’s not easy at all to be so far away from his best friend.

“yeah, i know what you mean,” he says finally, keeping his eyes locked on her even when cadence turns back to her makeup to gloss her lips. “it is hard. and it’s definitely important to take those breaks. don’t worry, we’ll get your mind off of school this weekend.”

cadence laughs, snapping her compact shut and stuffing her makeup back into her bag. “i hope i can keep up with you guys. my school is definitely not a party school.”

“we’ll catch you up,” he promises, grinning at the thought of the evening ahead of them. he’s going to show cadence a good time if it’s the last thing he does. and she has no idea what she’s in for. “don’t worry.”

surprisingly, everyone is perfectly nice and normal when they arrive at the pregame. his friends treat cadence like an instant member of the group, like she’s someone they’ve known for years. they welcome her with open arms and start pouring shots down her throat like they’ve done to him so many times before completely effortlessly.

it’s what happens when they get to the party that’s troublesome.

he’s admittedly a few drinks deep when cadence drags him onto the dance floor. he should’ve known that’d be the first place she’d want to go; all of cadence’s shy little wallflower moments fly straight out the window whenever she’s had so much as a sip of alcohol.

it’s not his fault he doesn’t manage to stop her. shane’s own head is swimming from the shots he’s had and he figures there’s not much harm in indulging her, but it’s only when they all crowd onto the dance floor and he sees the way his friends are looking at him that he realizes the position they’re in.

“this is awesome!” cadence chirps, angling her head to be near his ear. her arms loop around his neck as she swings her hips to the music. “i’ve never been to a party like this before.”

true, in high school, there were parties like this, but the two of them were never invited to them. they’d gone to prom alone together, and stayed up all night afterwards sneaking sips of alcohol at cadence’s grandma’s while she pointedly went to bed early.

“i’m glad you’re having fun,” he calls back, shuffling awkwardly on his feet in front of her. “do you need a water?”

“no!” cadence’s eyes are bright in the low light of the random living room they’re in, bopping along to the beat. she bounces up and down on her feet, dragging him closer. “you need another drink.”

to say the least. he could probably stand to put some distance between them, too -- get himself a moment of air. shane nods, ducking out from the circle of her arms. “yeah, i’ll be right back.”

he groans as he steps into the kitchen, almost turning around and heading back the way he came; casey and devon are standing in front of the counter. they both give him a pointed look as he slows to a stop in front of them.

“don’t,” he mutters, suddenly feeling very warm from the drinks he’s had and absolutely nothing else.

“dude,” casey sighs, shaking his head at him, “you guys should probably just hook up and get it over with.”

“okay, that is not helpful,” shane answers, leaning around him to reach for a beer, cracking the tab on the can and taking a big swig in the hopes that it’ll calm him down. unfortunately, his head just spins harder as soon as he swallows. “it’s not a big deal. we’re just excited to see each other.”

there’s a beat before devon answers, eyebrows arched from behind the plastic cup in her hands. “sure.”

admittedly -- the rest of the party is kind of a blur. there’s more drinks and more dancing, and his friends drag he and cadence up on the roof to play some drinking game he doesn’t understand. the thing is... it’s fun, in a way he hasn’t experienced since the summer. sure, he’s been to plenty of parties since the semester started and gone out and gotten drunk and stayed up all night, but...

time with cadence was a different kind of fun.

having her around, with him at school, filled a void he hadn’t realized he was lacking until she arrived, like he’d simply grown accustomed to a new full-body ache and had only noticed it once it was suddenly removed.

it’d be impossible to pretend not to be endeared by the way she stumbles out of the party and how she hums to herself in the street on the walk home, so he doesn’t bother, slinging his arm around her shoulders to lead her back to the dorm.

while everyone else is arguing about what type of pizza to order, they slip away, and then they’re alone in his room again.

cadence toes out of her shoes and twirls around barefoot across the rug between his and evan’s beds on her way back to her bag. “okay, that was so fun,” she sighs, dropping down onto the floor. “i wish i went to school here.”

“me too,” shane murmurs, watching her pull out her makeup wipes and tie back her hair. his eyes drift over to the twin bed sitting inconspicuously on his side of the room. when he’d invited her up here, he’d assumed they’d both just cram into it like they had so many other times before, in his twin bed at home. now...

now cadence is getting changed into her pajamas with her back to him, and he coughs and does the same, averting his eyes in the dark where he’d never flicked the light on when they got back to the room.

he’s saved from having to think of something to say by the way she crawls straight into his bed and leaves the blanket flipped open for him to join her.

maybe it’s the beer’s fault, that he gets in -- or maybe he has the beer to thank for giving him the courage to get into bed with her, but either way, he does, and within moments he’s nose-to-nose with cadence in the smallest space they’ve ever been in together, and she smiles at him in a way that’s almost unfairly beautiful, for someone who knows him as well as she does.

that’s the thing that’s so unlawful about this: she’s his best friend. she’s been by his side for every single up and down of his life, every moment he was happy or sad or angry. cadence picked him up when he doubted himself, comforted him when he needed it, made him laugh when the world felt ugly and hopeless.

if he did something wrong now, all of that would go away.

it doesn’t stop her from staring at him, though. cadence keeps her eyes locked on his, and smiles at him through the dark, and evidently he’s the world’s biggest idiot, so he stares back. of course he smiles, too.

“thank you,” she murmurs after a moment, breaking the still silence between them. “i’m glad we did this. i needed this.”

shane swallows, resisting the urge to reach out for her. “you should’ve told me you were struggling. i would’ve had you out sooner. or -- came home, or something.”

she shakes her head. “nah,” cadence whispers, “i could tell you were having too much fun.”

he sighs, giving in and tucking his arm around her back. cadence wiggles closer under the sheets until their knees are touching. “it doesn’t matter how much fun i’m having,” he reminds her, voice as serious as he’s ever heard it before, “because you’re the most important thing in my life. always. and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you.”

cadence blinks at him. her face splits into a beautiful, dazzling smile and then, quickly enough to make his head spin, she leans in and kisses him, closing the last inch of space between their faces.

his palm spreads out over her back and he tilts her in closer, kissing back slowly. part of him knows it’s a mistake, but a larger part of him has thought about this before -- too much, probably, for someone who calls himself her best friend. part of him has imagined it a million times, in a million ways, though none of them compare to this -- the real thing.

in none of his fantasies did he ever think it would feel like it does, comforting and familiar but new and exciting all at once. he’d never assumed kissing cadence would feel as natural as breathing -- but it does.

it feels like something they’ve done a thousand times before, and there’s no denying it’s something he’d like to do at least a thousand times more. his exhale is shaky when they break apart, his eyes sweeping her expression for a sign of regret on her beautiful face.

cadence’s eyes blink open slowly, her smile reappearing as soon as they do. “shane...” she murmurs, and something in his chest twists and then cracks wide open, a swarm of butterflies invading his stomach.

“yeah.” this is insane. what are they doing? they shouldn’t be -- he shouldn’t, really, because cadence is his best friend and he needs her and she is...

she is asleep, suddenly, breathing even and deep with her eyes closed again. the lips he’d just been kissing are parted with a little hitch in her exhales.

he relaxes, slumping back against the mattress.

fuck.

is she even going to remember this in the morning?

studying his best friend, curled in towards his chest and fast asleep without a care in the world, like the entire planet hasn’t somehow just shifted on its axis, he can only hope that she will -- because he knows that tonight, and its many revelations, is going to be impossible for him to ever forget.

not that he’d ever try to. a palm scrubs across his face, and he lays down, resting carefully on the other half of the pillow cadence’s hair is taking up the majority of.

well -- at least they’re together on this one, shane muses, as he stares up at the ceiling and tries to calm down enough to go to sleep.

no matter what madness tomorrow brings, at least he’ll still be sorting through it with his best friend.

#platinumweekend #platinum #shane parker #shane parker x mc #cadence dorian #myfic #long post #in this house we go absolutely feral for friends-to-lovers baby

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its-always-sunny-in-forks · 4 years

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Birch—the first of the Celtic tree symbols—for the first moon cycle in the Ogham Tree Calendar, known by celts as Beith. A symbol of new beginnings, hope, new dawns, and the promise of what’s to come…

Bella // Leah new moon era extended fic series. Instead of calling Billy, Charlie calls Harry about his Bella’s depression over Edward leaving. Charlie knows that Leah went through something similar with Sam and hopes that the two girls can help heal each other. (insp). (read along playlist).

Ch 1 // Ch 2 — A Drop in The Bucket

Leah felt a hitch in her side and she eased up from a sprint to a jog. She slowed even further, taking in the deep grey ocean to her right. The sound of her labored breathing and the rain beating against her lightweight rain slicker were completely drowned out by the sounds of the angered ocean, heaving toward shore. She came up here every other day, rain or shine—though, she preferred the rain. Not only for the way it pummeled the sand into an even surface, easier to fly across, but for the privacy it allowed.

It had been almost a year, but people still gave her that all too familiar look whenever she went anywhere in town. Despite how angry she was, she didn’t hate Sam or Emily. She hated how they had reduced her identity to two words: jaded ex. The tide swelled again, hitting the sand with a loud cadence, and her emotions swelled with it. She thought the start of her last year of high school would be different. Sam had graduated and was no longer there to torment her in person with his remorseful eyes and presumptuous manner. She tried to start anew, even forced herself to join the robotics club the first week, but no gossip had come along in their boring town to trump what was now her life’s story. People still stared and whispered in the halls. Freshmen gawked as they were filled in on the drama. Why try? When everyone was already convinced they knew everything about her. Leah spent her days in the backs of classrooms, dreading group projects and resenting the eyes on her in the halls.

She broke out into a jog again, picking up speed as the rain battered against her hood, dripping down her brow where it gathered from hitting her face. She smiled wryly to herself at the irony, leaning into the jaded ex persona by running alone in the rain at the beach. At least no one tried to talk to her anymore. The first year had been brutal with do-gooders and Nosy Nancy's trying to pry their way into her life so they could watch her sadness for entertainment to give them a sense they were the better person. At least their life wasn’t in shambles. At least they weren’t angry at the world. At least they made the effort to help the local sad girl. It bored Leah to no end, so she stopped responding with fake niceties whenever they invaded her space with their sympathetic smiles and presumptuous ‘so how are you?’s. She frowned as her legs carried her further away from home. There was one person who probably knew all too well how she felt, even after a year had passed for Leah.

Bella Swan. She had heard her name echoed over and over again earlier in the year when she blew into town. Charlie’s only daughter, exiled to rainy Forks from the land of sunshine and cacti. Leah heard the whispers that she was dating a Cullen, ironically enough from Sam. He and his gang were always hanging out in town, or over to see Harry, or at Jake's to see Billy; she could never avoid them for more than a week. Leah heard their judgmental musings and laughed to herself, the way they were concerned with a Forks girl's dating habits. Leah hadn’t heard much more about it since the initial whispers, until the night before.

Her dad had gotten the call last night.

“Charlie—how are ya?” Harry fell into their familiar pattern. “Oh gosh, no we haven’t seen her up this way. Do you want . . .” He shifted his weight and motioned to Leah. She hadn’t realized she stopped what she was doing to listen. “No, no, it’s no problem Charlie. Our boys know the woods better than anyone else. Let me gather the troops and we’ll be over. Hey—we’ll find her, okay Charlie? She’s going to be fine.” His voice was fervent and full of promise. She knew he had been a good friend to Charlie for far longer than she had been alive. Leah wanted to offer to come along, mostly out of curiosity—a curiosity she couldn’t trace—but she knew ‘the boys’ meant Sam, and Sam meant not if Leah could help it. She stayed put, heading out to their garage while Harry started a phone chain to reach Sam and his apostles.

She busied herself in the garage for more than a few hours, time never really existed when she was working on a project. She’d been working on this one for almost six months. It was her and Harry’s baby, a ’67 mustang the local junk yard was about to compact before they found it. She and Seth pushed it across town, easier than they would have thought considering the engine—and by extension the majority of the weight—had dropped out the bottom long ago. Harry had told her she needed an outlet for her negative energy. She scoffed at the implication, but knew he was right. Fixing up cars had been something they had always bonded over, since she was a young girl. She would wait at the door for him to come home and run down the driveway to meet him when his car turned off the street. He’d open the door and scoop her up into his lap, letting her steer while he gassed the car up the short drive to the house. She never noticed the guiding finger he held on the bottom of the wheel. He always cheered as the car rolled to a stop, giving her high fives and lifting her out of the car to spin her around.

He was in the garage every weekend; either fixing up a friend’s car or one of his own. They got her a matching grease monkey suit that was made for a six foot man not a three foot girl. Harry would roll the sleeves and pant legs up so she could shuffle around and bring him a rouge wrench from the tool chest. Harry always took the time to show her what he was doing and even put her hands on the engine and tools to let her get a feel for which tools went with which parts. Leah's eyes alight with a child’s curiosity, she never failed to be in that garage with him every weekend. They became less frequent when Harry tore a ligament in his knee. A long recovery and a difficult injury to begin with made it rough to be crawling around beneath the body of a car. He still worked with her though, getting his hands dirty when he could and instructing her when he couldn’t. It was a hobby that fell by the wayside when her life fell apart last year. The most she could handle were staying alive and staying in school.

Harry didn’t come home until after midnight. He came to check on her and she rolled out from under her mustang.

“Find Swan’s girl?” Again, Leah struggled to source her interest.

“Yeah, she’s doing alright. Pretty shaken up. Cullens left town.” He didn’t need to explain further. For the longest time the Cullens had always implicitly included Bella, even far removed from Forks, Leah knew this. He didn’t sound as thrilled as the rest of the tribe about the Cullens skipping town. Leah had been vaguely aware of the celebration raging in town through most of the night. She heard the whoops and hollers up and down the street as several groups of rowdy teens clamored down to the beach. Leah rolled her eyes; any excuse to light a fire. Harry wasn’t torn up about them leaving, but he certainly wasn’t exuberant. Leah respected him for that.

Harry rapped on the doorframe, “It’s getting pretty late, better finish up here.” He eyed her progress, smiling as he saw the tools sprawled out on the floor. This had been their baby initially, until Leah got frustrated with the old man’s pace and continued it without him when he was too busy. She liked working with him, when he was available to work. Her family were just about the only people she could stand to be around. They never patronized her or handled her with kid gloves. Well, not for a long time at least, but Leah could see the anxious squint to his eyes as his smile turned down. Something he saw tonight must have reminded him of her, a year ago. He cleared his throat and bent down to help her clean up; she let him without protesting.

They continued in silence, putting tools back in appropriate places and a tarp over the exposed engine. Leah hated to admit it but she had put her parents through . . . too much in the early days. She had fights with her mother over not eating enough, fights with her dad over picking fights with people in school. Even fights with Seth, although those were a pretty normal occurrence in any other circumstance, but these were more bitter than joking. She hadn’t been the easiest to handle, but she evened out as her anger turned toward resignation.

Leah trotted to a stop where the beach turned to rocks too awkward for her to traverse across, lining the coast in slate and umber tones, slick with rain. She walked toward the ocean, still in a rage with the storm. There were so many times she stood in this exact spot; the precipice of pain pulling her forward, the promising violence of the black ocean calling to her from the shore. She found a home there, in the beautiful chaos of the tide. It wasn’t a call of temptation anymore as it once had been, but more of an acknowledgment of comradery. They tipped their caps, her raging storm bidding hello and goodbye to that of the sea. This is the place she grew from her pain. She let her inner tide overwhelm her fully, learned every force driving it to crash to her shore, all the while she was crashing with it. She let herself fall apart here, only ever here, with the salt in her lungs and the cold water rushing against her bare toes. Her pain felt tangible when she was standing in front of the unstoppable force of the ocean.

She took a deep breath and launched herself in the opposite direction up the coast, toward home. Bella Swan’s storm must be just beginning.

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bogariel-frogariel · 4 years

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A Wish For A Better World Part 2: A New Day, A New Life

Another part of my time travel fic.

Here is the ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25747657/chapters/62572741#workskin

Please give me food name puns. I need help.

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Ruby's head spun as her back hit the soft mattress. She had to blink tears out of her eyes when she felt her sister's now-unfamiliar weight on her. How did she have forgotten this feeling so quickly?

This couldn't be possible. This wasn't real.

She was hallucinating. This was one last fantasy dreamed up by her mind before she died. Or before she experienced whatever the consequences of her actions were.

"Hey, Ruby, what's wrong?" Jet asked her, her voice holding the tenderness that she reserved only for when she was worried about Ruby.

Ruby swallowed back a sob. She'd gotten really good at doing that over the years.

She hesitated, but then decided to indulge herself, to immerse herself in this illusion. One last perfect, innocent, carefree day. Or however long the universe would allow her.

Ruby sniffed and smiled. "Nothing. It's just… we're fourteen now."

Jet grinned brightly. "I know. We're so old!"

Ruby swallowed again but Jet didn't notice her affected mood, bouncing off the bed and running over to her room.

"Come on, if we don't look proper, Mum will be mad at us, and I want to stay on her good side today. Dad said he was going to give us a surprise."

Ruby remembered.

They had managed to stay good that day, making it to midday without getting in trouble. Theo and some of the other Knights of North-Gumbia had followed them and their father as they went out and had lunch in Dulcington. When they got back, Calroy and their father had treated them both to a combat lesson. Of course, their mother had found out, and Ruby distinctly recalled hearing the echoes of her parents' fight about it, though her mother had not addressed it to them. It was one of the few things in her life she hadn't told Jet about.

Ruby frowned. She wondered why her subconscious chose this day. Why not the day after, when they'd slipped out of Lapin's class and gone to the secret fights held by the kids and street urchins in the Dulcington? Jet had wrestled her way to the top of the charts and Ruby had talked her way out of getting stabbed. On top of that, shad also successfully stolen from the four older kids who had pickpocketed her on her excursion the week prior. It had earnt them the respect that had them commanding the streets for the next four years. There had been challengers, of course, but none had been able to best them when they worked as a team. And they always worked as a team.

That had been a good day made even better by the fact that they had managed to return before Lapin had noticed their absence, though Ruby now wondered if the old rabbit had ever really been as blind as he pretended to be.

This had not been.

This year had marked the first year that their mother insisted that they have lessons on their Saint's Day. She remembers sitting in the room, eyes glazed as Lapin droned on before being dragged to the church to say their prayers before they had been allowed to properly celebrate.

She'd hated every second of that morning, anxious to get it done and hadn't been able to sleep that night, her parents' fight still ringing in her ears.

As Ruby made her way to her closet, she almost tripped over her art supplies, which she'd left strewn across the floor. This had been when she was between phases. Her carelessness with the equipment showing that she was about to switch interests. If she remembered correctly, she would take up singing and the lute next (she had been quite good at singing, but not as adept at the lute, and the dissonance between her talent in the two had caused her to lose passion for it fast) and then she would change to dancing for two months which would evolve to acrobatics by the time their next Saint's Day came around.

That was the one that had stuck. And the one that had been the most useful in the end. Though, she wished she'd somehow decided to pursue magic, that some twist of fate would have allowed her to begin learning it earlier. She could have been good at. Maybe even one day as good as Saccharina. But she'd never know. War wasn't exactly the best time to learn the complex foundations needed to be able to perform proper spells that actually caused damage.

Ruby couldn't imagine why a hallucination would have such mundane detail as the mess in her room.

This was an ordinary day. It didn't make sense for her to be experiencing this.

She was quiet on the way down, stewing as Jet practically skipped alongside her, chattering happily.

She'd had hallucinations before, she'd even had one or two visions; they had never felt like this.

This almost felt… real.

It struck as she was eating breakfast. She had followed Jet, just like she'd always done, and hugged her parents, a tight crushing one from her father and a warm but sharp one from her mother, and then took her place across from her sister at the table.

Theo was standing at the door, Toby on the other, less used exit, as they watched over them silently.

Lapin would already be getting ready for their lesson.

Liam was still in the Great Stone Candy Mountains, three months away from arriving in her life.

She dropped her fork when she realised it, the clattering sound cutting off Jet and her father's loud chattering.

"Ruby!" There was her mother's instinctive reprimand.

"Ruby, are you alright?" That was her father, his tone gentle and concerned.

Jet did not say anything, just stared at her. She knew that she was acting strange. She had not done this the first time around. This was not how hallucinations went. This was not plucked from her memory, the edges were to sharp, the details to minute.

This was real.

A thousand thoughts crashed through Ruby's head all at once. All she could do was stare as she realised the implications of her situation.

When she didn't react to their voices, her father rose and walked to her side, Jet also stood up whilst their mother leant forward in her seat.

"Ruby," her father's voice rumbled. That deep cadence had been one of her last comforts after Jet…

But Jet was alive. She wasn't dead anymore. She'd never died.

And she wouldn't. Ruby would make sure of it.

In that second, Ruby made a decision, constructed her plan and decided on to carry it out.

Her mother had once said that she'd grown into a woman who was not afraid to make her bloody way through the world. She had become good enough at politics and reading between the lines by that point to get the hidden meaning; that Ruby was ruthless and cunning and was capable of using both those attributes to get what she wanted.

It was time to test that assessment.

She blinked and looked to her dad, plastering a smile on her face. "I'm fine."

Her dad's hand tightened on her shoulder. (When had that gotten there? Ruby hadn't noticed. That was something she'd need to do better. She couldn't miss things like that. She'd missed too many things last time.)

She met the suspicious and worried gazes of her family, her eyes settling on her twin. "Really. I just had a nightmare last night. It's okay now."

Her mother frowned. "Are you alright?"

Ruby turned her smile to her mother. "Of course. Dreams can't hurt me."

She made it through breakfast and then they were herded to the tower where Lapin conducted their lessons under their mother's disapproving eye.

'We might have been able to use your nightmare to get out of this,' Jet whispered to her in twinspeak as she squirmed in her seat, barely one minute into their class and already wanting to leave.

Ruby nodded absentmindedly, but did not reply like she used to, when they would keep up their murmured conversations throughout the entirety of their classes instead of actually listening to Lapin.

She would not make the same mistake again.

Lapin was droning on about the history of Ceresia and its relationship to the Church, information that would have been quite helpful in her understanding in the future. Ruby listened with rapt attention.

She actually asked a question. A question that was on topic and not designed to distract Lapin.

Jet was gaping at her. Lapin blinked, shocked, but answered after only a few seconds' hesitation. Ruby ignored their reactions. There was little she would be able to do to explain her seemingly sudden change in personality, but she did not have time to slowly ease into it. She only had four years. Four years to fix things and make sure that the Church could not attack them from the same angle that they had the last time. They would not dethrone her father under false pretences. They would not turn Calorum against them. Candia would not burn.

If the bitchifex wanted to come for her kingdom, she would need to do it from another angle.

Ruby did not whine as they were dragged down to the chapel nor did she roll her eyes through her prayers. If she were to pull off her plan, she would need to cultivate the appearance of someone so devout that her faith could not be questioned, following in the steps of her lost aunt, the Saint Citrina.

Lapin noticeably hesitated when she willingly dropped to her knees at the alter and placidly listened to him, none of the nervous energy that she used to be filled with which would have her fidgeting through the entirety of his sermon.

When they were done, Ruby briefly contemplated pausing in front of one of the stained glass windows and bowing her head, but thought that that might be too much too soon. So, she dutifully followed her mother out of the small cathedral, ignoring the surprised looks that Jet kept sending her.

She tried to be cheerful on their lunch with their father at Dulcington, but she kept getting distracted, preoccupied by seeing old shops that had been burned down, by having Jet back at her side, by seeing the many fallen Knights still alive. Both Jet and her father kept sending her furtive glances, but Ruby didn't acknowledge them, shaking her gaze away from Sir Toby or Lamington, who had become her second in command on the streets, or Frostel, the travelling pickpocket, to refocus on the conversation that she was only minimally contributing to. People she'd never thought she would ever see again.

People that she couldn't let die.

When they arrived back at Castle Candy, their dad lead them to the training courtyard where Calroy was waiting beside a rack of training swords.

Ruby froze.

He'd been dead for so long, but the time had done nothing to appease her rage. She had never been as good as Liam, had never been able to rise above it.

"Now, don't tell your mother, but I'm about to give you both your first sword fighting lesson," her dad said with a wide grin.

Jet clapped her hands together and let out a manic laugh, but Ruby clenched her hands behind her back, breathing deeply.

She turned to her dad, and smiled as sweetly as she could. "Can I actually go down to the archery range, dad? I think I'd be a better archer than a swordswoman."

Her father frowned briefly before he smiled widely. "Of course, Ruby. We can go there after."

Ruby shook her head. She knew that as soon as she got a weapon in her hand, she drive it through Calroy's stupid face, regardless if it was blunted. She needed time to get her emotions under control. She couldn't exactly murder her father's closest advisor.

Yet.

She just needed to find some proof.

Easier said than done, but she thought she knew where to begin looking.

"Why don't I go with Sir Toby now? I'm sure one of the archers will be there," she suggested lightly.

Jet frowned and turned to her.

"Are you sure?" she asked in Twinspeak.

Ruby smiled at her. "Yes. The new Head of the Army should have some private lessons. I wouldn't want to cut that short. And I'm thinking of maybe being Head Archer."

Jet paused for a second before she returned her smile. "Thanks, Rubes. You're the best!"

Ruby nodded, feeling the thrum of the locket on her chest. She suddenly had to swallow back tears. She'd forgotten that it used to do that; thrum when either of them felt a particularly strong emotion.

Her dad was stammering. "Ah, yeah. That sounds great. If you wanna."

Ruby visibly grinned, bouncing on her toes as she threw her arms around him. "Thanks, pops."

Her father ruffled her hair like he hadn't done in over half a decade.

She flounced off, hearing Sir Toby scrabble a bit and Theo whispering a frantic order, before he fell in behind her.

"Archery is a very noble pursuit," Sir Toby commented as they approached the range. "I'm sure you will be very accomplished at it, Princess."

Ruby inclined her head at him respectfully, ignoring the stutter in his step at her sudden proper behaviour.

"If the Bulb above wills it, then I will succeed," she replied.

Her manners may have given Sir Toby pause, but her reply had him gaping. He blinked at her for a few seconds whilst Ruby continued.

"Of course, Princess," he eventually said and they fell into silence as they walked along.

The green sour strap archer attending to the range roused at their approach, straightening up and immediately assuming parade rest.

"Princess Ruby!" he greeted with a deep bow. "Sir Toby."

"I would like to learn archery, please," Ruby announced.

The man blinked at her. "Of - of course, Princess. I will get you a beginner bow."

Ruby frowned. "I want one that will work as a proper weapon, not a glorified toy."

The man nodded frantically. "Yes, Princess."

He whisked into the large gingerbread shed that housed all of the ranged training weapons, abandoning the arrows that he had been tending to.

Ruby rolled her shoulders, starting to do warm up stretches. She frowned as she assumed familiar positions that she'd used a thousand times before, feeling a stiff strain in her muscles that she'd hadn't felt in years.

Shit.

This body didn't have the muscle memory of her old one, which had been honed by years of acrobatics, archery and fighting, that she'd never stopped training, even years into peacetime. After it all, she had finally understood why her father and Theo had always trained so hard.

Ruby listened as the archer explained the basics to her, internally grumbling at how much she struggled to draw back the bow.

She nocked an arrow, aimed and loosed as the archer instructed her, grimacing when the arrow thunked into the very outer ring of the lollipop target.

"That is very good, Princess," the archer complimented. "Not many hit the target on their first try."

What about on the millionth one?

Ruby managed to cast him a grateful smile before she was loosing another arrow, her movements just a little awkward as she adjusted to her weaker muscles.

She would need to start training immediately.

By the end of her session, he was able to get her shooting to an acceptable accuracy, though the imprecision still irked her. She lowered her bow after about an hour, her arm aching. She wouldn't get much more progress that day, and she had things to do before Jet's training session ended. It had about an hour and a half left, if Ruby's memory served her right.

"Thank you," Ruby said, turning to the archer who had overseen her for the hour as she took off the guard on her arm. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your name Mr -?"

"Sarone, Aeple Sarone, Princess."

Ruby inclined her head in the respectful nod that she was meant to give to her subjects. "Thank you, Mr Sarone. Your help has been much appreciated."

The man grinned and bowed. "Any time, Princess. You have a real talent for archery."

"You flatter me," she replied with a laugh. "I wish you a good day."

They entered the castle again and Ruby curtseyed at Sir Toby, a rather strange experience when she wasn't in a dress. She had worn them much more often in her last few years in the future, when she had been required to be seen as a formal figure.

"Thank you for guarding me, Sir Toby," she said. "I will not require an escort for the remainder of the day."

Sir Toby bowed at her. "It was my honour, your grace. I will be happy to accompany you on any other archery ventures in the future. It seems the Bulb above has blessed you with great skill with the bow."

Ruby smiled. "Thank you for the compliment. May the Bulb shine upon you."

Sir Toby beamed at her. "And you, princess."

Ruby nodded deeply at him and walked off, stopping by her room to pick up one of her many lined notebooks and shoving it in a large satchel with a bunch of her study materials, pausing just long enough to clean her room up. She hadn't been in the room since she'd left Castle Candy for Calorum all those years ago. She hadn't been able to re-enter it when all that would be left there was the ghost of her sister. Back then, or she guesses, yesterday, she didn't have the appreciation for organisation and order that she did now.

With a sugar quill and her white chocolate notebook in her satchel, Ruby made her way through the castle and sat down, cross legged in front of the four, humongous statues of her aunts.

Ruby started to make a list. Of things she needed to do, things that needed to change and things that she would not be able to change but would need to be ready for.

She wrote and she wrote, sifting through her memories and attempting to ensure that she didn't forget anything.

Eventually, she got herself down to a checklist for the next three days. It was short and sweet, but more complicated than it seemed at first glance.

Ruby sighed as she looked up from the book, staring at the statues around her.

She felt something in the back of her mind and Ruby almost screamed when she heard the whispers of the shadows echo around her.

She slammed her book closed and throw it, jumping to her feet as she ran her hand through her hair, tugging it hard. However, she paused before she could cast the shadows away. They no longer felt like the cold, destructive things that had urged her towards vengeance and rage.

These were… warmer. Their whispers did not tell tales of hatred, they just called welcomes in her ears.

Mistress… you are - you are here… you are home… let us help you…

They were a thousand voices speaking at once, all ready to embrace her.

Ruby closed her eyes and tentatively delved into her magic, feeling that the connection inside her was more indistinct, less rigid than before, but somehow more lively, thrumming with a sought of life that it had never had in the past (or, well, future). She felt sparks of energy shoot through her body as she channelled her magic and her eyes snapped open.

She gasped at what she saw.

In one hand, a ball of light glowed in her palm, whilst shadows pooled in the other.

In between them, streams of purple light danced around her, singing songs of growth and change and prosperity. Her vision turned misty as she finally felt it. Neither the cold destructiveness of the Hungry One, nor the blinding light of the Bulb scorched her soul. Whatever she'd done back there, that strange balance she'd found, had carried over into this world.

She could tap into both the Bulb and the Hungry One, the light and the shadows, and she could use them both to feel the ever changing world around her. Finally, she understood what Liam had been trying to teach her. The Bulb birthed them and the Hungry One took them at death, but the time in between was for them, was for the change and the growth that came with truly living.

She dismissed the Sweetening magic first, releasing it with a smile. She allowed herself to bask in the golden glow for a few more seconds before she allowed that to disperse too. They would be useful in the future, but they were not calling for her now.

Now, the shadows had news for her.

And, for the first time in her life, Ruby let them in with warmth and security in her heart, finding comfort in their protectiveness as she raised her right hand to her hear, allowing the black mass that was wrapped around her hand, to speak directly to her.

We can help you, Mistress… we have felt what you will need… follow us.

So, Ruby allowed them to lead her. At their bidding, she walked over to Sapphria's statue, and climbed it with more difficulty than she would like - she really needed to start her acrobatics training. However, she made it to the circlet, pushing the purple jewel that was inlaid at its crux, one that mirrored the jewel in Ruby's own circlet.

A compartment opened up in front of Ruby's eyes, books and scrolls and maps. But, most interesting of all, a clear, pale blue sphere made of pure sugar, and a set of four black daggers, each long but, as Ruby discovered when she picked one up, well balanced enough to use as throwing knives. Ruby took the sphere, the daggers and two of the books; one that was a pure black journal and another that was deep purple and pulsed with magic, and scampered down the statue, depositing her findings in her satchel just in time to see her mother storm into the room.

The queen paused when she saw Ruby.

"Ruby," she said, her furious scowl quickly being replaced by raised eyebrows. "What are you doing here?"

Ruby raised one of the history books in her satchel.

"I just wanted to do some studying in the quiet," she explained. "It's… peaceful here… calm."

Her mother took a deep breath in, glancing down. Her voice was quiet when she answered, "Yes, it is."

Ruby clenched her hand around the satchel strap, reaching back and stealthily summoning her white journal and quill into her hand before shoving them in the bag.

"You can stay here. I was just leaving," she told her mum. "I know people usually like to be alone in here."

Her mother looked up at her, eyes widening before she nodded. "Yes. Thank you."

Ruby hesitated for a second before she stepped forward and enveloped her Mum in a firm hug.

"I love you."

Her mother took a second to return the embrace. "I love you too, Ruby."

Before Ruby let go, her mother kissed her on the head. Ruby pretended she didn't see the defeated slump of her shoulders when the queen faced the statue of her aunt.

----

That night, after dinner, Jet's raised her eyebrows at Ruby's spotless room.

"Are you done with art?" she asked.

Ruby grinned. "Yep. I think I want to do something more active. Sitting still all day is boring. I think I want to try acrobatics!"

Jet matched her expression. "Like with the ropes and the flips? Cool."

"Yeah I want to fly through the air!" Ruby said as they both started to get ready for bed.

"And I want to be the most fearsome fighter in Calorum!"

Ruby giggled. "So you liked your lesson?"

"Yeah! I'm totally going to take over Theo's job! I'd be great at it."

"You should teach me what you learnt," Ruby suggested lightly, riding high on the exhilarating feeling of talking to her twin again after all these years.

Jet flung herself onto her bed. "I totally will."

"Then I can watch your back both up close and from afar."

Jet laughed as she got under the covers. "I'm going to be a great general, Ruby. I'll protect you. I'll protect everyone."

Ruby was quiet as she crawled into her own bed, staring at her ceiling, the orange light slowly receding towards the window as the sun fell below the horizon.

"Do you really not want to be queen?" she asked.

Jet sighed deeply. "You know I don't. But I also know you don't either, so I wouldn't abdicate and make you be queen. Even though you'd be much better at it than me."

Ruby snorted. "No I wouldn't."

"Yes you would! You're good at everything."

Ruby frowned. That was just it, wasn’t? Ruby had been good at almost everything she'd tried, but she had been only good. Never a great mage or a great leader or a great beauty; she had never been great at anything until she had started listening to the whispers of the courts and mastering its language. She had learnt to play the games more expertly than any other in Candia, and had used her skill to protect her sister, to protect her queen, to protect her realm.

"I've seen what the crown did to Dad and Mum," Jet murmured. "I don't want that to happen to me. I don't think I'm good enough to do it. I'd be a better general. I can do more good without being chained down by a crown."

"What if you didn't have to take the throne?" she questioned, voice barely above a whisper. "What if there was someone else."

She heard Jet shift up onto her elbows. "Are you saying that you want to take the throne? Is that what today has been about."

Ruby sat up and shook her head. "No. But I… I think I might know a way to help you."

Jet huffed. "You've been acting weird all day. And don't tell me it was just a bad dream! You've never lied to me before Ruby."

Ruby frowned. It may as well have been a dream, for it would never come to pass. Not on her watch. Now, it was just a nightmare.

"I'll tell you what I mean tomorrow night, I promise. Please, just give me time to make sense of it all," Ruby implored desperately. "I'm sorry. I just… I need just some time to get everything together."

Jet stared at her for a few seconds before she nodded. "Alright Ruby. I trust you."

She lay down and Ruby gave a sigh of relief as she did the same.

"Thank you," she said.

"Hey, it's you and me, right?" Jet reminded her with a yawn. "Jet and Ruby forever?"

"Forever," Ruby confirmed, lying down.

When Jet's breathing evened out, Ruby ducked under the covers, pulling the satchel towards her from where it was lying beside her on the bed.

She closed her eyes and reached out with her magic. She felt her heart lurch excitedly as a small ball of golden light appeared in her hand as Ruby opened the black book.

The first page read:

The Life of Sapphria Rocks, the youngest (and the best) Rocks sister.

Ruby grinned as she turned the page.

I don't know if I'll survive this war. And I don't know if anyone will find this, (I'm sure Gummy will hid it and all my other secrets well) but the world deserves to know of my brilliance.

For the person who found this, congratulations, I'm going to teach you all my secrets.

Ruby read until she felt her eyes droop and the words stopped making sense in her head.

But she learnt a lot, about poisons, about whispers, about the secrets of Castle Candy, and, most importantly, about how to establish her web throughout Calorum.

Ruby felt a resolve harden inside her. Suddenly, her list got longer.

She knew what she would need to do.

Her mind spun plans as she finally fell asleep.

She was not prepared for what awaited her when she finally let her eyes fall closed.

------

How did you like it? As I mentioned before, please give me food pun names.

#A Wish for a Better World #dimension 20 fanfiction #a crown of candy #a crown of candy fanfiction #acoc spoilers #d20 acoc #acoc #a crown of candy spoilers #ruby rocks #jet rocks #my fics #dimension 20

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