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sukiglycerin · 3 years

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starless fairy tales || keigo takami, katsuki bakugou.

* pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x reader x katsuki bakugou (gender neutral!)

* genre: it’s a sandwich: angst on the top, fluff in the middle, and angst at the end :) not fantasy DLKFSF IM SORRY

* words: 5.2k, somehow

* warnings: angsty, reader is wary of hawks at first, tokyo skytree!! so don’t read if you’re terribly afraid of heights, a reference to blood for a small metaphor, a reference to the league of villains ;P, cliffhanger ending that i’m not sure i’ll resolve

* original request from @bien-sur: hey, saw you wanted requests and I read through some of your work, really loved the Hawks one shot!! i’m a sucker for enemies who make out. i’m feeling angsty so uh maybe, if you want, a bakugo one-shot where he kind of uh cheats on the reader...? or maybe just hurts her feelings very badly? maybe the reader feels numb for a while but is comforted by Keigo, and the reader realizes they deserve better? so sorry if this is out of your comfort zone or it’s dark content(?) anyways I like your writing so i’ll read a few more of your works before going to bed :)) thank you, i appreciate u taking the time to do requests regardless of whether you do mine :)

* a/n: ENEMIES TO LOVERS IS SUPERIOR!! i was so excited to write an enemies piece with hawks. this showcases the soft, kind side of hawks so i hope you enjoy it !! thank you sooo much for being so kind in your request! this request is completely fine. i added much more plot than i’d expected, and learned sooo much about tokyo skytree. i couldn’t do infidelity because it hurts me too much and i love bakugou too much. i tried to keep the angst.,., but happy birb..,., this might become a multi-chap fic, as i do have a plot jumbled in my head because of the cliffhanger, and i’d like to develop more aspects of your request! for now, it’s up to your interpretation! biggest thing i got out of this: i now really, really want to go to tokyo skytree.

* synopsis: you had a fairy tale love with bakugou until your prince became the villain for vague reasons. in a moment of serendipity, you find a new prince, hawks, who just might take you high enough to reach the stars you’d so longed for. sometimes your dreams are only a train ride and a couple elevator trips away.

love was like a fairy tale. at least, that’s what you’d believed. love, with its ornate leather cover and soft golden embellishments. the pages would be worn but so cherished; the black ink printed in a pretty font, telling of charming words and whispered promises under the shining moonlight and twinkling stars. it was supposed to be your security, a castle hidden in the lush forest away from the horrors of the world. your castle would hold you and bakugou for an eternity, kept away in the pages of a pretty love story.

alas, even the strongest of castles fall, and the most beautiful of forests mangle. yours just happened to be a bit quicker. contrary to the illusion bakugou had painted in your fairy tale, your castle was not of stone nor brick nor iron. it was not of anything but sand, waiting for its turn to be washed away by the sea. your castle slipped through your fingers; the once elaborate stronghold now swept into the depths of the cerulean sea. what had once been painted seashells of wondrous hues and crystals that illuminated the night were now pebbles and corroded versions of things that had once been. it had slipped through your fingers so easily without a passing thought; now here you were, in your deserted kingdom, playing the fool.

like the sand past your fingers, love had once come easy for you and bakugou. it was always there, drifting in the air as you walked or swirling above your heads while you bickered. love was supposed to be easy, like how your hand just fit in bakugou's as if sculpted after many lives with him. love was supposed to be easy, like how bakugou aced his tests in school and nonchalantly taught you math so you wouldn't have to attend cram school. love was supposed to be easy, like how it had been for forever with bakugou. but your fairy tale was now coming to a close, velvet curtains falling and pages turning to dust.

you wondered if there were any fairy tales on the shelves of books bakugou had. contrary to popular belief at ua, bakugou was an avid reader. it was clear by the shelves that lined the wall in his dorm and the stacks of unread books on his nightstand. you never touched them, though bakugou had said you were free to pick them up whenever you wanted. the only time you’d touched a book from his bookshelf was when he pushed a book of yosano akiko’s to you.

the colored spines of the books on his shelf in your shared apartment all blurred like paint on a palette as you stared at them, bakugou’s voice becoming a fading afterthought.

“y/n? y/n, please…” the voice which had so held you in its tight warmth went cold and unfamiliar. a light flickered out in your castle, and so started the crumbling.

“say…” you started, your throat clogged with disbelief, “it again.”

“please, don’t make me…” his voice trailed off. you could feel his deep scarlet eyes trained on you. “i just…. i’m not in love with you anymore, y/n.” his voice cracked. “you’ve got to understand. please.”

your hand trembled in your lap, your vision shifting out of focus like a faulty camera.

“i tried to feel something, i really did. but…. i can’t.”

“how- how long?” your voice shook.

he paused. “a month… or two, by now?” he reached out to take your hand in his, but it no longer felt right. it was as if his hand was no longer yours to hold. you tensed, moving your hand away.

a light went out in his eyes as he understood and receded his hand. a tower fell in your castle.

“okay,” you said, turning away from him. tears dripped down your face silently and you quickly wiped them away with your sleeve. you stood up from the couch. “i’ll get my things,” you hollowly said, walking toward your shared room with him.

“you don’t need to,” bakugou said. the voice emitted from his throat was no longer his, but the shadow of a stranger’s. “not this fast, at least. don’t force yourself.”

“what makes you say that?” you snapped a bit too harshly. “sorry,” you added quietly.

packing your things was a numbing process. you left the photos of him and you on his nightstand, on top of his pile of unread books. you shoved it all in a backpack you had lying around; your clothes, your phone, your books. you took one last glance around the room and left. bakugou was still sitting on the couch wordlessly, not bothering to say farewell to you as you opened the door and walked out. not that you would’ve responded anyway.

you realized you may have made a miscalculation as you stood cluelessly in the lobby of the apartment building. you had nowhere to go. you fumbled with your phone in your backpack and pulled up your contacts. you knew of no one in your contacts who’d let you stay; they were either on vacation or far away. in truth, bakugou was your closest friend since childhood. he was your map, your guide, your destination; where were you without him?

the wind brushed your cheek as you stood outside the entrance, watching cars pass. the world felt so big compared to the mere side character of you, who buildings loomed over like menacing shadows. it was a somewhat comforting moment, being an alone speck in the grand scheme of things. like this, it was for only a moment you’d forgotten why you were out here in the first place. you’d forgotten the warm feeling that once nestled itself in your heart, instead enraptured by the freeing breeze that rustled in it.

red. then a breeze. that’s all you saw, eyes widening and stepping back. a man no older than you stood in front of you, hands in his pockets. vermillion wings protruded from somewhere on his back, arcing slightly over the man.

“heyyy….” he said lazily, shadows falling on his face. you started walking backward, hands discreetly feeling for the door behind you. “wait! i’m a pro-hero, i swear! i’m hawks, look it up!” he lifted his hands up in surrender, backing away from you.

“who…. what do you want?” you asked cautiously, hand on the doorknob behind you.

he sheepishly scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. “i, uh…. got lost…. tokyo’s such a big place, y’know?”

“where are you from?” you couldn’t really discern anything of an accent on him, other than a slightly rougher tone of speaking.

“kyushu, fukuoka…” he gestured vaguely. that explained the slight accent. “i’m in tokyo for a bit of work. business trip, y’know how it goes. haven’t visited tokyo in a while, honestly. what’s a good place for a bite? a bird is starving.”

“uh… there’s a place down the street to the right…” off the top of your head, you pointed out a cafe you and bakugou had frequented.

“it doesn’t have chicken wings, does it?” hawks asked.

“chicken…?” you looked from him to his wings. “no, sorry.”

“don’t sweat it! ‘s fine. hey, i might as well treat you for wasting your time. where’re you heading off to? i could pay for a cab, if you gotta go.”

“ah, thank you....” you said bashfully. “i’m not really in a rush anywhere.”

“really?” he looked excited, innocently so, almost like a puppy. “can i treat you to something?”

“uh… sure,” you replied, strengthening your grip on your backpack. “sure.”

“great! off we go, m’liege!” he pointed toward the cafe and started marching. he was a sight to behold on the street, red wings standing out a mile away. you followed somewhat reluctantly, grabbing your phone to google exactly who the pro-hero “hawks” was. the name sounded vaguely familiar, but you weren’t one who knew their heroes. yeah, it was definitely him; what was your luck, meeting such a famous pro-hero on the street after being dumped by the love of your life?

he hummed a tuneless melody, turning to the cafe. he held the doorknob waiting for you, opening the door for you first. the homey cafe was decently packed for lunchtime, the quiet chatter of people filling the atmosphere. the scene reminded you of so many other times you'd gone here with bakugou; it gave you chills as you stood next to hawks.

"hey," hawks said quietly. "you okay? you seem tense."

you gulped and shook your head. "nah, i'm fine. just thinking about what to eat," you lied.

he nodded, seeming to buy into the lie. stepping toward the menu, he said, "the toasted sandwiches look good."

"uh huh," you agreed absentmindedly. your attention was on the bout of people who'd turned to look at hawks, some snapping pictures on their phones. he did stand out pretty well with his wings.

"'scuse me-!" a little girl, no more than 6 or 7, approached the hero. she had a distinctive accent; it was slightly hard to understand her. "can i 'ave a photo with ya?" her eyes got all round. "yer my big brother's favorite hero!"

"'course, darlin'," hawks smiled. his voice somewhat mimicked hers, his dialect becoming apparent.

once he'd taken a photo with her, more and more people started following suit, crowding him. you stood awkwardly to the side. some people didn't even know who he was, from what you could tell. you debated ordering a latte and leaving, but decided it'd be unfair to hawks. he was kind to everyone he interacted with, unlike most celebrities who just wanted fame and disregarded others.

after some time, the crowd finally dispersed, leaving you and hawks together.

he glanced at his watch. “ah, sorry, that took a while…” he apologized. “do you have somewhere to be? i must’ve held you up…”

“nah, don’t worry about it.” you waved him off. “i, uh, actually… was just dumped by my boyfriend…” you nervously shuffled your feet. “i don’t really have a place to stay at the moment… so i’m free the entire day, i guess.” you laughed nervously.

he blinked at you, bird-like eyes wide. “you must be starving.”

you felt your face warm and you laughed - this time, a real, genuine laugh that was a missed sensation against your tongue. “yeah. yeah, i am.”

“hey, dove.” his voice suddenly got close to you, gentler. “you’re crying.”

“oh…?” you felt your cheek with the pad of your thumb. “sorry. i have tissues in my backpack, hang on…” you unzipped the front pocket and started to rummage blindly through your belongings, groping for something vaguely feeling like a packet of tissues.

“here,” he said, handing you a tissue. you turned to him gratefully, accepting the tissue and wiping your face.

“it’s just… weird,” you said after a pause. “he’s been there all my life - my ex, i mean.” ex. such a strange name for the man you so adored; ex, crossing off the relationship you thought you’d built with him.

hawks nodded, guiding you to a booth in the cafe.

you continued, “sorry. you probably didn’t want to hear this today… you’re busy with your hero duties and whatnot.”

“don’t worry ‘bout it, feather,” he reassured you. “he didn’t kick you out, did he?”

“oh, no,” you clarified quickly. “i… left,” you said, abashed. “i shouldn’t’ve been so sudden, but… it was an instinct thing.”

“why’d he do it so suddenly?” hawks asked. “you didn’t see it coming, right?”

“no, i didn’t… but maybe i should’ve…” you think about the part couple months with bakugou. nothing seemed different - you’d gone on dates like normal and spent time together like a couple that loved each other. his interest in you never faltered and nor did the sparkle in his eyes dull; what had happened? what had gone so wrong?

you realize the silence that’s fallen between you and hawks. the hero was looking at the menu behind you intently.

“ham and cheese…” he muttered to himself. “no, teriyaki… so yummy… with coffee…” he suddenly seemed aware of your eyes staring at him. “oh, what did you want to eat?”

“i’ll probably have the teriyaki,” you said. it was your go-to sandwich choice at the cafe. you reached for your backpack to retrieve your wallet, but hawks stopped you.

“let me,” he said. “i already caused you so much inconvenience.”

“ah, okay…” you said meekly. “thank you.”

he shrugged. “what wouldja like to drink?”

“uh… orange juice,” you said.

“alright!” he saluted you. “your wish is my command.” he got up to order, pulling out his wallet from his pocket. the cashier was particularly animated talking to him, initiating a conversation about aerodynamics with the pro-hero from what you could hear.

he returned with the sandwiches (made at the fastest time you swore you’d seen them prepare food) and set yours in front of you.

“let’s dig in!” hawks said, biting into his sandwich. you agreed, taking a bite of yours as well.

“what’s your name, by the way?” he said in between bites. “i don’t think i ever asked.”

“y/n,” you said.

“pretty,” he commented. “i’m hawks.”

“i know,” you blurted. “i googled it.”

“you did?” his pupils widened. “what’d it say??”

“uhh…” you pulled out your phone, finding the tab you used to google hawks. you turned your screen to him.

he studied the screen. “not fond of that angle,” he mused to himself. “so, why’d your boyfriend dump you?”

you were taken aback by his candor. “he… said he didn’t love me anymore,” you admitted.

“all of a sudden? out of the blue?”

you shook your head. “he said he’d tried to endure it for a while.”

“how long?”

“a month or two,” you sighed, thinking about the sight of him sitting dejectedly on the couch this morning.

“he didn’t say anything before that?” hawks gasped. “the nerve. how long have you been together?”

“four… or five years now?” you’d been dating him since your days at ua, even when most high school romances - between childhood friends, no less - were especially rocky. he was your promised forever.

“and he gives up after two months?” hawks set his sandwich down. “wow. some boyfriend.”

“i think there was something more to it,” you said thoughtfully. “we’ve known each other for a long…”

“you still love him, don’t you?”

“i mean… yeah….” you hadn’t given it much thought; bakugou was a habit your heart couldn’t stop thinking about. it was like depriving your heart of oxygen: foreign and wrong. “i do.”

“i’m sorry, dove,” he said.

“your sandwich will get cold,” you said in an attempt to divert the conversation topic.

“you’re right.” he picked up his sandwich and started eating again, eyes still on you. “this place has good food.”

you hummed in agreement, distracted by the cars going by outside the window.

“where will you stay?” he asked, halfway done with his sandwich.

hawks voiced the concern plaguing your subconscious from the moment you stepped out of bakugou’s apartment building. it was definitely not the most thoroughly well-thought out plan, and you didn’t want to come back knocking on his door in the night. besides, you weren’t sure if you could stand being there again, in the presence of a liar and someone who felt so foreign to you. you wondered how much you truly didn’t know about bakugou; were there any other lies he’d blossomed behind your back?

you knew you might be able to stay at a hotel for a couple nights, but not for long. going back to bakugou’s place… as much as you so dreaded the mere thought, you knew it might be your absolute last resort.

“i’m not sure,” you finally replied truthfully. hawks appeared to have come to a conclusion of sorts.

“tell ya what,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “explore tokyo with me.” he took a bite of his sandwich. continuing, he said, “‘s not often the commission puts me in the big city. i’m off today, so…”

the offer was somewhat bizarre, but what did you have to lose? you agreed, under the terms you wouldn’t be out too late. as you walked out the door, you greeted the cool outside breeze with the hope this would help you put the past behind you.

walking through tokyo with a pro-hero proved harder than it sounded. for one, people kept approaching hawks; after all, he was like a walking light-up sign that said “LOOK AT ME!” with the size and color of his wings. after every time a fan asked hawks for an autograph, he sheepishly apologized to you, and offered two autographs to you. you always laughed and declined; the trip was a reward in itself, you supposed. each acquaintance made you appreciate all the responsibilities of a pro-hero. he was charming, though. he really was, so you didn’t mind.

“skytree! let’s go there!” was the first thing hawks had said walking out of the cafe. you’d been to the skytree a couple of times in your childhood, and it was a nice memory; the tall building stretching, touching the tip of the sky. your parents had told you that stardust flecked the very top of the skytree, for it was so tall. you’d never actually reached the highest floor; it felt like a distant fantasy, as you’d always get tired before reaching the top or circumstance would interfere.

it was a five minute walk to the nearest station, and it’d be another forty or so to skytree. hawks didn’t seem to mind, though, happily promenading down the street like a kid in a candy shop. he pointed excitedly to random buildings that you hadn’t given a second thought about and rambled about the facts he knew about skytree with an accent tingeing his words more than usual. he reminded you very much so of a child going on a field trip, and his giddiness only boosted yours.

“we’re here!” his eyes glistened with anticipation when you reached the station. you’d visited the station dozens of times, but looked at it with a new light when you realized how excited hawks was. “i’ll pay; i dragged you here,” he said immediately when you started to pay for tickets.

“really, i can’t-” you started, but he cut you off.

“let me. it’s my off day! please.” he took the two tickets he paid for. “here.”

“i don’t really have a choice, do i?”

“nope!” he was already walking away, smiling back at you and waving his ticket.

“hey- wait!” you started running after him. “wrong way!”

forty minutes later, two transfers, and one circle around the station in pursuit of skytree, you stood at the entrance of the tokyo skytree. hawks’ mouth watered at the sight of the line of restaurants in the breezeway you’d passed prior, and you had to stop him from ordering the seasonal special from mcdonald’s before turning to skytree.

“but you just ate!” you exclaimed as he stared longingly at the ice cream being advertised on a poster.

he pouted. “but i’m hungry…”

you took his hand (which momentarily shocked him) and guided him to the entrance. it was a bit crowded, but not overtly so. hawks was looking everywhere once you’d entered; darting from here to there, sometimes carrying small souvenirs or drinks when returning to you. you were out of energy by the time you’d reached floor 340, though hawks told you there were only 29 floors total and the name was referencing the height. it certainly didn’t feel like an exaggeration, your feet dragging on the ground as you stepped out of the oddly fast elevator.

you begged hawks to let you rest at the cafe you saw. the cafe felt like a little oasis of tranquility, uncrowded on contrary to the other floors. it was relaxing as you stared outside the window and up at the sky. it brought you to your parents words of stars and magic, though something as modern as the skytree must be strange to intermingle with magic. in the moment you were suspended; the still sky surrounding you and the ever-moving cars below. you swore you could just reach the clouds in front of you and float, so serenely in an eternal bubble of quietude to yourself. everything else was forgotten in that moment; things were the way they always were. it was always you, in the end.

after leaving the cafe, you watched people stand on glass flooring overlooking everything below. some jumped on the glass, while some frightenedly stuck a foot on the glass and jumped back.

“quite the view, huh?” hawks mumbled with a mouth stuffed full with chocolate cake. “i usually have to fly so far to get this view.”

you nodded. “it’s amazing...”

“so… where d’you wanna go after this?” he asked you.

“actually…” your thoughts went back to the stories your parents told you. “can we go up to floor 455?”

he showed a hint of surprise on his face. “really? i know we bought the tickets to do it, but if you’re tired, we can just go down.”

“no…” you cleared your throat. “it’s been something i really wanted to do.”

he took this answer and smiled, grasping your hand. “let’s walk into the sky!”

the train ride back did not go as smoothly as you hoped. the adrenaline of being 450 meters in the air had worn itself out, and the pitting realization that bakugou was no longer yours dawned on you. the sapphire sky in your fairy tale story seemed so far now, stars shattering and crumbling. you reached for a piece of a star, but each piece dissolved above your head, light that would never reach you.

“feather,” hawks said quietly. the intense look in his eyes looked like he was building up to something important.

“yeah?” you asked. you fixated on him.

“do you want… a badtz-maru eraser?”

you stared at the spiky-haired penguin in the palm of hawks’ hand.

“sure…?” you said. hawks happily plopped the eraser into your hand.

“feather,” he said again in the same tone. “you should visit bakugou, you know. tonight, to make things straight with him.”

that was what he was building up to. bakugou. you hadn’t dwelled much on the thought of the man; the skytree filling most of your thoughts for the day. but it was still light out.

“i know,” you replied softly, looking down at your fingers. these were the hands that held your heart as you gave it to bakugou, the hands that bakugou held tenderly for so many days and nights. they were the same hands that held your heart now, returned by bakugou shattered and clinking to the ground. the rest of the train ride was silent.

you could now hear your thoughts echoing around the train compartment, deflecting off walls and still making their way to your heart. you wondered what words were left unsaid by bakugou, painful truths untold hidden in the recesses of his heart. you wondered if he remembered how he’d first nervously asked you on a date in high school, words rough but fingers softly fidgeting with each other. it was in may, near the end of the day. he shoved a small box of chocolates towards you, muttering something about “weird hair” making him do it. he’d aggressively stuttered his way through a confession, barely making eye contact with you. the memory brought a fluttering to your heart, but with it came a sore pain for the first time. you wondered if he felt the same or if he was just numb, like how he now felt about you. what did it feel like to fall out of love?

you wondered if he remembered the many times he’d walked you home (only for your sake, of course, not anything else). you wondered if he remembered how fondly he looked at you then. his heart was on his sleeve during those times, the perpetual blush on his cheeks disclosing his very vulnerable feelings towards you.

even on the most draining of days, bakugou would always be there for you. even if his eyelids were closing upon their own accord and legs were sore from a day’s work, he made it a point to be there for you. while children might’ve had their security blankets, you had bakugou. your heart dropped realizing those days of coming home to bakugou were gone.

what had happened? now, you were alone on a train that felt so cold and without the love that had so warmed your heart. why had things ended up like this? why did you numb bakugou’s feelings so? the wave was slow at first, but once it had reached the shore, your tears fell hot and unyielding as you toppled off the edge of being okay.

hawks was by your side wordlessly, a wing around you and leaning you close to him. the feathers were soft. you cried unabashedly in his embrace, sniffling as he soothed you. you tried to say thank you, but all that came out was another sob.

your feet, on instinct, took you to bakugou's apartment without any problem. it could’ve been any other day; you, coming back to the apartment after running errands. it was your hand that hesitated as it hovered an inch away from the wood of the door, the only sign that something had changed. you liked to pretend it hadn’t. you wished that when you’d open the door, you’d hear a light chatter from the tv and a familiar voice saying, “welcome home, idiot.” you wished that the air that enveloped you as soon as you opened the door was that of liveliness and comfort, of warm orange and yellow hues. you wished that the atmosphere didn’t feel so dead, dull, and musty; you wish it hadn’t drowned in shades of blue and gray. you wished you didn’t have the key to the apartment still.

you wished that bakugou would say something, anything, rather than sit on the couch with his head bowed. you wished that you didn’t miss him so much and that you had him, all at the same time. you wished you turned back as soon as you heard the knob click and pushed open the door; you wished not to see all that you had in what was once your apartment.

you wished you didn’t revel in his presence next to you on the couch. you wished you didn’t almost lean into his touch because he was your home, and you wished your eyes didn’t well up the way they had. you wished to have sat in that silence for a while then up and gone; you wished he hadn’t said anything at all.

“hey, idiot,” was a cracky and raspy thing coming out of his mouth, words familiar but so foreign at the same time.

“hey,” was what you whispered back, quiet enough for only you to hear.

“where’d you go?” but it wasn’t a question, just a fragile plea devoid of hope.

“skytree,” and you felt you’d break the mood.

“did you reach the top?” his response surprised and killed you at the same time.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “i did.”

“alone?”

“i could never alone.”

“who…?”

“met a pro-hero by chance.”

“your true hero, huh?” it was a bitter tone, venom biting you.

“no,” and your heart sunk because it was the truth.

he scoffed. getting up from the couch, he said, “you forgot something.”

your eyes followed him as he disappeared into your once shared room. he returned quite fast, as if you’d left it on the dresser, carrying a decorated shoebox. you’d almost forgotten about it entirely, eyes wide as nostalgia hit you.

it was a memory box you’d made the last year of high school. it was supposed to be for school memories, but it really just became a box of mementos of bakugou. you could barely see the contents inside, too busy trying to hold back the tears in your eyes. you thumbed through photos and polaroids of you and him, some with his friends and some with yours. oh, what you’d give to have those times back. though it was all blurred, you could feel the moments so vividly: feel the cool summer breeze and hear the sound of people conversing with each other at a festival; hear mina’s excited ramblings and bakugou’s grumbling at the supermarket; smell caramel and vanilla at a movie night, pressed against bakugou’s body warmth. you dropped the photos back into the box and picked up a scorched pencil. a pressed rose. a neatly folded sheet of notes you’d sent back and forth with bakugou during class.

and then it was all gone, shutting the box.

“keep it.” you regretted the words as soon as they left your lips, but you wouldn’t take them back. you handed him the box, staring at the floor and wiping your wet eyes. the memories were no longer yours to keep.

bakugou was silent, taking the box and leaving to his room to put it away.

“is that all?” you tried to make your voice sound strong, impatient. like you had better places to be without him. you hoped he couldn’t tell how it was more of a beg to stay.

“yeah.” cold. emotionless.

you stood for another second, looking around. everything seemed different, as if the glass which surrounded your universe had shattered. “bye, katsuki.”

“bye.”

your footsteps were light, but each step felt weighed by metal weights. you wished he stopped you from leaving. you wished you looked back at him. you wished you weren’t crying.

you shut the door quietly, weakly, behind you. it all came out in the hallway, tears and desperate sobs. you prayed he couldn’t hear you; but you knew, even if he did, he wouldn’t care anymore. he was numbed, no longer the firework you’d known.

“hawks,” it came as a quiet plea as you felt for your phone and dialed his number. he gave it to you right before you walked into bakugou’s apartment.

“please pick up, please pick up,” you muttered, trying to wipe the tears from your cheeks as quickly as they came.

“hey, birdie? are you okay?”

“hawks,” you sobbed. “hawks, no, i’m not.”

“hey, are you still at the apartment building? i’ll be right there, chickadee, alright?”

you nodded, sniffed, then said meekly, “yeah.”

“stay on the line. talk to me, birdie.” his voice was soothing.

“hawks, it hurts, everything.” you felt as though you were pouring out your heart, spilling scarlet on the carpet. “hawks.” tears dropped onto the carpet. “hawks.” your knees almost gave in.

“what floor are you on, dove?”

“third,” you hiccupped.

“i’m right there, feather.” you saw hawks emerge from the stairwell. his hair looked windblown. he looked relieved to see you at first, then his face fell to that of sympathy. “oh, birdie,” he said softly, running up to you. “i’m here now.’

you weren’t aware bakugou was listening to you cry on the other side of the door as you sobbed into someone else’s shoulder, not his. with dark eyes and trembling hands he couldn’t calm, he dialed a number on his phone.

“well, tomura? i did it.”

#hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou angst #bnha angst #hawks fluff #bnha fluff #hawks imagines #hawks scenarios #keigo takami fluff #keigo takami imagines #keigo takami scenarios #katsuki bakugou #keigo takami #luna's writing

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arminhug · 3 years

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hello, pumpkin || annie leonhardt x reader: chapter three

series masterlist

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

SAUDADE

“How can you have two dads? That’s just weird.”

I absentmindedly tore the crusts from my sandwich, discarding them onto the sodden autumn grass in hopes that some birds would grace us with their presence. It was early into the new school year, and at seven years old, Annie and I had known each other for almost a year, and our nook in the garden remained our daily haunt. Annie, still as aloof and scary to most, but to me, a sweetheart with a soft spot seemingly only for animals, doughnuts, and myself, had told me a story about a girl in her class who had to be taken home by ‘one of her dads’. I, naive to the concept of homosexuality, had questioned how one could have more than one paternal figure, to which my older friend introduced me to the possibility that some people could like the same sex.

“Not really,” Annie shrugged. “Love is already really weird. Why would you not be able to fall in love with another man if you’re a man?”

“But how do they have babies?”

“They don’t.”

“But the girl in your class—“

“She’s adopted.”

I contemplated this idea.

“So if a man and a man can be in love, does that mean a woman and a woman can too?”

“I guess so,” Annie responded nonchalantly. “I’ve never seen two girls in love, though.”

Brazenly, I hugged Annie. “So does that mean we can be two girls in love? Oooh, Annabelle, I love you!” I chirped. I did not quite grasp the weight of what I had said, and presumably, neither did Annie, who smirked and fought off my grabbing hands. We were play fighting, nothing out of the ordinary for two young friends, regardless of gender or sexuality.

“So let me get this straight,” Marco states, snapping my attention back through a decade, sat on the edge of his old twin bed. “The first thing you did when you learned what gay meant was declared that you loved your female friend? I don’t want to jump to conclusions for you, but I think you might be gay.”

I groaned, slamming my face into my hands frustratedly. “I know. I think I’ve known for ages now. I’ve never had a crush on a man in my life, Marco, but I’ve never had a crush on a girl, either. Well, apart from—“

“Apart from Annie?” Marco finishes for me suggestively.

I fall back onto his plaid comforter. “Was it even a real crush? We were children. It’s not like I have any other experience to go off, do I?” Because it’s true. How the fuck are you supposed to know what you are if you’ve only had a puppy crush on a girl from your youth? A girl who you lost when you were eleven years old?

“Are you okay?”

Marco reaches over to my cheek, brushing away a tear that I had not even noticed escape my eye. He lies next to me on his comforter, and we stare at the puckered ceiling, shoulder to shoulder, zero eye contact but the affection we hold for each other sitting comfortably in the familiar atmosphere of his bedroom.

“I miss somebody who I haven’t spoken to in seven years,” I admit ruefully. I know I am crying. Under any normal circumstance, I would be furiously rubbing my under eyes, desperate to remove any evidence of my upset. But it’s Marco. He may not be what my Annabelle and I had, but he is still one of my closest friends. I realise that it may not be the end of the world for somebody whom I love and trust to know the truth. “I miss her every day. I can’t even begin to explain it, because it’s ridiculous. You would have thought that after so many years, so many more wonderful friends, that I would just recall our time together with a sort of nostalgic fondness every now and then, but I can’t. There was something about what Annie and I had. It was a feeling, a sensation that made me feel safe. I love you and the rest of our group, believe me. I would do anything for you guys. But the friendship we have is so different from what I felt. I can still remember every emotion, every touch, exactly how she looked.”

“Oh, Daisy,” Marco starts, his sweet voice laced with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were carrying all of this with you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s ridiculous. I shouldn’t still be hung up over a childhood friend. Plus, I was nervous to suddenly come out, you know? Stupid, I know, considering you're so comfortable with yourself.”

“Sounds like more than a friend, if you ask me.” He insinuates. Despite his sunny disposition, Marco can be rather snarky when he wants to be.

“Yeah, yeah, crush, friend, whatever. Part of me wants to forget about her, you know? Just start experimenting and figure me out, but I would never want to lose the memories. The time I had with her is worth every moment I have missed her.”

“As sweet and poetic as that is, there’s no reason as to why you can’t start experimenting now. You’re newly eighteen and you will have left this place come September if it goes horribly wrong.”

I laugh dryly. “Thanks. But yeah, I could do that. How does one even go about that, though? I mean, an average looking, sexually ambiguous nerd with no romantic experience isn’t exactly very high in demand on the market.”

Marco sucks his teeth, shaking his head. “Average looking is not a phrase with which I will allow you to describe yourself. Besides, nobody even cares about experience anymore! Believe me, once you go to uni, virginity, body count and all that jazz isn't even relevant." He reassures me, before he turns to his side, warm eyes lighting up with excitement. "I tell you what, let’s go on a night out. We can invite the rest of the gang or it can be just you and me. Sounds good?”

My heart swells with adoration for my friend. He’s really willing to do this for me? “You don’t even like going out, I’m not letting you be uncomfortable for my sake,” I protest, but Marco holds a freckled digit up, presumably to silence me.

“I don’t mind going out. I don’t particularly like staying out ’til 4am, drunk out of my mind, but I can’t imagine you doing that either. Unless you get lucky?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I jerk my body up, shoving him. “Let’s not get carried away here. Drinks? Sure. But it’s very unlikely I’ll be swept off my feet by a gorgeous stranger and spend the night having bomb ass sex.”

“Not quite what I was thinking, but don’t rule it out! You’re a lovely looking lady, I’m sure you’d have your pick of gorgeous strangers.”

“Ha ha, you’re such a comedian, Marco.” I smirk. “Okay, we’ll go on a big, gay night out. Just the two of us. You better not flake on me for a handsome university student though,” I tease, and he averts his dark gaze. “If we find a cute alt boy with piercings, I can’t make any promises. How does this Friday sound? Get your dancing shoes on, we’ll boogie the night away!” He sits up, jiggling his shoulders in what I can only assume is a butchered version of the shuffle.

My friend is such a nerd sometimes.

“I’m looking forward to it, but fair warning, I will go home if you say boogie at all during the night.”

“How about bop?”

“No way.”

“Jive?”

“That’s infinitely worse than boogie!” I howl with laughter.

“How about a boogie, bop, and jive?” Marco relentlessly teases me, jumping to his socked feet and pulling me up by my wrists, crudely dancing with me whilst we both giggle.

“No, no, and certainly not. But I’m looking forward to going out with you.” I conclude.

。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫

i am so sorry for the slow updates!! i won't get too into it but i had a bit of bad news and life got very stressful,,, i hope you enjoy this chapter, and please be assured there are more on the way!! thank you for your patience gang <3

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millie-ionaire05 · 4 years

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A Shadow’s Light

Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fae AU ♕ Monarch Yoongi ♕ Fantasy AU ♕ CEO Yoongi ♕ Soulmate AU

Summary: The approaching solstice reminds Yoongi that his time for remaining Monarch without a kindred soul is running out. As each day goes by, the shadows around him become more unruly, and his emotions become harder to control. Even as his right hand, he’d never considered you as someone to court, not until he realized your light could tame the shadows. Oh, but your light brought more than that, it brought a burn that had desire curling deep within him. A desire that he won’t allow to slip away.

Word Count: 4,130

Rating/Warnings: M for Mature (+18); Monarch Yoongi; Confidant Reader; Female Reader; CEO Yoongi; Slightly Dom Yoongi(?); Office Sex; Unprotected Sex (wrap the schlong before you sit on the dong); Oral (f receiving); Fingering; Multiple Orgasms; Overstimulation; Bottom Yoongi; Top Reader; Squirting

Author’s Note: I’ve dreamed of this Yoongi quite a few times over the last few years, and so I finally decided to write it. Albeit, this is a completely shorter version than the original one I started years ago, but I think it’s fine as I ease my way back into the writing scene. Thank you so much to @dee-ehn for the amazingly beautiful banner; it’s absolutely stunning! Hope you guys like it 😊

The feel of cold paper against his fingertips is almost a welcomed reprieve compared to the monotonous drone of the head of marketing, an older man with a pinch in between his eyebrows and a smug expression. Yoongi’s mind is filled with a million other incessant thoughts, ones that are far more pressing than the steps on appealing to the board of directors.

For one, the solstice was tomorrow, and the primal hunger for a kindred soul to be at his side was becoming even more difficult to deny. He knew if he was unable to find someone this year, the Elders would begin to question whether he truly should be the Monarch for their kind. His kind. Just the notion has his wings twitching in anger before it is dwindling to a burning frustration, his fingers reflexively crumpling the edges of the paper he held.

“Sir?”

He turns merely a centimeter towards you, his eyes forcefully focusing as they make contact with your own. You seem almost taken aback by his gaze, your lips having parted and your eyes wide. He must not have realized how hard his expression had been, but he quickly softens it, a rumble of an apology carrying its way to your ears only. Your gentle eyes turn sympathetic, your mouth curling up to show a bright smile, and it almost blinds him.

It was no secret within the world of Fae that he was the first shadow chosen as Monarch, much to his surprising dismay. It was not so much a surprise that he was chosen per se, as he had been groomed for it during most of his childhood, but it was the fact that he was groomed at all that surprised him. Even as Monarch, the Fae were wary of those ‘cursed’ by the shadow. It was not only uncommon amongst their kind, but it was also dangerous if not controlled properly, and it could rarely be controlled. Before his ruling, parents would often tell stories of shadow monarchs who grew out of control, their shadow swallowing the settlement whole.

Whether parents continue to tell their children such stories is lost on him, as he very rarely is included in conversation when the settlement gets together. He wouldn’t be surprised though, as he, too, worried for the safety of everyone around him.

You on the other hand, he was the least worried about. You were the complete opposite of him, as you were blessed with the light. A rare gift. It was always said that the light could tame the shadows, but he only feared you would make his grow, like how an increase in light source could cast a stronger shadow of a human figure. Especially if it got too close.

But regardless, you were also groomed similarly to himself as a child, so that you would be by his side. A loyal….assistant….if he had to title it. You were his confidant, his right hand man (or technically woman), so to speak. The Elders had thought it wise to have you close to him, and while the thought had initially made him uncomfortable - the shadows around him twitching in disgust at the light you brought - he had grown fond of your company within the last several years. The shadows around him had ceased their fury long ago when you were near, and he was grateful for at least that respite.

“It’s quite alright, sir,” you carry on, oblivious to his internal torment. “Would you like me to escort you out of here?”

He can’t help the twitch of his lips, an eyebrow raising as he allows his body to turn towards you, his chair barely squeaking at the action. He watches the way your cheeks flushed at his stare, your eyes casting down to your lap as your fingers fiddle with non-existent lint. His eyes roam to your wings, watching how the beautiful white seems to shimmer as they fluttered slightly. He knew he could fluster you - he often found it entertaining - and quite frankly he also found it adorable. The shadows around him groan.

With a tsk, his lips twitch down, and you immediately sense his shift in emotion. You were so perceptive to him, and yet still so obliviously unaware of how his shadows reacted when you shined so bright. In those moments it was very painful, and while he could usually muster through the pain, he found that it was actually difficult for him in that second.

Fear zings through his body as his shadows laugh, their forms swiftly quivering in excitement at the thought that he wouldn’t be able to stop them, that he wouldn’t be able to prevent them from consuming what was around him. His body becomes rigid, his eyes closing as he works to compose his emotions, his mind fighting with itself as his heart thuds within his ears. He can faintly hear you calling out to him, but he is too busy focused on his task.

A sharp sting envelops his hand, and his eyes snap open to find your own hand against his, the shadows retreating to the furthest recesses opposite of your shine, and his heart stutters. Never have the shadows withdrawn so quickly, no matter how many lessons the Elder’s had given him, he has never been able to control them. Not to say they are controlled per se, because he knew they could never be controlled, but they were tamed for the moment. Your hand continues to burn against his, and he slowly pulls back from your touch, his eyes meeting yours once again.

A small nod of his head is all you need, your body instantly moving as you announce their departure, your figure guiding him back towards his office. His eyes never waver from your wings, watching how they are so delicately beautiful and white, a complete contrast to his sharp black wings. Your wings were round, many swirls intricately woven in various degrees of white, sparkling no matter what time of day. While his wings were sharp edged, and of the deepest of blacks, a color that portrayed an endless void. He’d been told, more often than not, that his wings seemed invisible if he flew around the city at night. It didn’t just stop there though, as the shadows also allowed him to blend in to the darkest corners, keeping him out of sight if he wanted.

He was such a contrast to you, not just in wing shape and color. It was normal for women’s wings to be larger than men’s, just like a female bird was larger than a male, but your wing size complimented you so well. Everything about you and your gift suited you. Your gift gave you the ability to travel at the speed of light, not that he’d ever seen you use it. He supposed there hadn’t exactly been any reason to use it, so of course he wouldn’t have seen you. Or maybe he hadn’t seen you because you were simply too quick for him to catch, he wasn’t entirely sure. He made a mental note to ask you one day.

“Would you like me to clear the rest of your day, sir?” you ask, watching him as he moves around his desk to his chair, your eyes wide with concern.

“Yes, please,” he murmurs, his eyes closing as you rattle off into your phone for all of his meetings to be cancelled.

The shadows are still in the corner of his mind, having shifted so they were completely opposite of your presence. Yoongi’s heart races with the speeds of a thousand mustangs, the beat traveling up his neck and into his ears, and he isn’t sure what to do. You had stopped the darkness, which had seemed to be even more out of control lately, but you had done it. His eyes can’t help but open to stare at you, your body now resting on the chair across his desk, completely oblivious to his gaze as you scroll through your phone.

With a simple command, he orders the shadows to close his office door and lock it, and he watches as they are quick to avert your presence and complete his task. He wonders if they fear the torture of the light again, and whether that is why they are so compliant. Nevertheless, he has an image in his mind that couldn’t be wiped, and that image was you. In all his years of life he had not looked at you in any way more than a friend, a confidant...until today.

He smirks at the way your body jumps, your head turning to see the office door closed before your gaze whips back around to look at him. He knew how you felt about him, because while he was quiet for the most part, you were like an open book. Your emotions were as plain on your eyes as your heart was on your sleeve, open and bared for him. You didn’t cower from your feelings towards him, but you also weren’t jealousy possessive when the Elders ordered him on many courtships with other women. No...you stayed by his side and supported him, even as each of them failed to subdue his darkest demons.

Slinking from his spot, he slowly makes his way around the desk, stopping until he has leaned against it in front of you. Your body instinctively shifts back against your chair as your gaze lowers, though he knows this was out of respect as the Monarch, he doesn’t want you to pull further away from him. His hand still burned at your contact, and a deep part of him begged to feel it again, begged to feel the pain.

“Stand up,” he orders, and watches with satisfaction as you instantly comply, your body a mere few inches from his.

The shadows quiver at the proximity, which only brings a shaky breath from his lips, his hand reaching forward until the tips of his fingers graze your cheek. Your eyes rise to meet his, confusion trying to mask the culmination of fear and desire he knew you felt, but the words of your open book practically scream at him. Beg him.

In one swift movement his hand grips the back of your neck, his fingers burning, but he doesn’t care as his lips meet yours. And oh, how soft your lips were against his, it had to be a crime. He had been with sparingly few people in his life, but nothing compared to how you felt against him, how your light seared him in magnificent ways. A moan escapes from your velvety lips and it can only be accompanied by the groan from his own as he shifts his head, taking advantage of the new angle to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Oh, had he known how compliant you would be under his touch, he would have tried this ages ago. So soft and supple, yet you burn hotter than a thousand suns as the shadows practically whimper at the onslaught, yet the pain was quickly becoming something he relished. Something he needed. An addiction that he wasn’t sure he would be able to fulfill. Your pretty moans only further the tingles in his body, their assault almost unnecessary since his pulsing cock was tightly confined to his work slacks, but it only furthered his need for you.

Pulling back swiftly, he practically melts at the whine that escapes from you, your gaze hazy as you stare at him in a mixture of confusion and disappointment. It almost makes him lose it. Almost.

“Please tell me you want this,” he states, his breathing heavy as his chest heaves to allow more air in, but it seems almost futile.

Your face contorts into an expression he can’t seem to understand until it shifts into understanding, a soft smile falling on your lips. Your hand comes up, cupping his cheek and his heart jumps at the contact, the burn intensifying. Your eyes silently consent, but he wants to hear you say it. No…he needs to hear you say it, and he can see it in your eyes that you know that.

“I want this,” you whisper, and that’s all he needs.

The room envelopes in a darkness like no other, the pure desperation in your eyes as he swiftly swipes his hand across his desk, items clattering onto the floor. You squeal in a mixture of delight and surprise as he unexpectedly throws you onto the now cleared desk, the chill of the wood bringing goosebumps onto your skin, and he doesn’t miss it. No, he sees you so clearly, it is as if all the noise in the world has cleared away to provide the perfect picture that is you. He can’t keep calm as your back arches, your chest practically begging for him to come closer, to ravage you.

Reaching forward with trembling hands, his fingers deftly unbutton your blouse, his eyebrows rising when he’s met with the most complimentary color of silk that cups your breasts. Your skin is illuminated with a flush as he continues to stare, his moves slow and methodical, and he takes note of the clench of your thighs as you attempt to relieve the pressure. He doesn’t speed up in his ministrations though, slowing even more as he allows his fingertips to trace from your neck down to your hips, stopping right above the barrier of your tight pencil skirt. He relishes in the way you quiver as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of the skirt, finding the clasp and button with ease and opening it before you can even comprehend what’s happening.

He thanks the Heavens that you hadn’t chosen to wear pantyhose this day, because he would feel guilty having to tear them off your body. Well...only slightly guilty. He can’t continue the thought process though, because a deep groan is pouring from his lips at the sight of your matching underwear, his cock now at full attention and already weeping through his pants. His teeth grips at his lower lip as he forces his body to remain at a glacial pace, but with every second that passes, he’s finding it utterly difficult. Your panting did nothing to calm him, your breaths coming quick as your blown out pupils stare at his hands, your tongue coming out to moisten your reddened lips.

Oh he needed something on his mouth, and he needed something on them now. Discarding your skirt to some unknown spot across the room, his hands grip right behind your knees, fingers tightening so he can forcefully spread your legs. He can feel the muscles in your legs resist as you try to snap them together again, but he doesn’t allow it, his Adam's apple bobbing at the sight of you. So pretty, so beautifully created, and the burn against his hands strengthens. Grunting at the pain, he is practically salivating as it mixes with the pleasure, the shadows quivering around him, but they remain compliant.

And you remain compliant, too, your wide eyes moving to meet his own. A smirk claims the corners of his lips before he leans forward, allowing his hot breath to seep through your underwear. Your legs are trembling within his grip, and you try with all your might to bring his mouth closer to where you want it. Where he knew you needed it. And he is content on giving it to you. Moving his hands from their spot, he uses the angle to spread your legs further apart, his hands coming to your hips. The cry of pleasure that escapes your mouth is pure bliss, your body clearly stiff with shock at the sudden action of his fingers having pushed your underwear to the side so that they could flick your clit.

Yoongi’s mouth salivates at the sight of your entrance, completely wet and dripping. He wants to ask if it’s because of him, but his body is working faster than his mind. His mouth begins to suck at your juices, his nose bumping into your clit and you jump, his hands swiftly moving to hold your hips down. Oh how sweet you were. Like the sweetest of treats, but a rapidly addicting taste that he isn’t sure he can stop. He is sure you don’t want him to stop either, considering how your hand has desperately moved to his hair, fingers gripping at his locks. You tug when he purposely licks your nub, a mumbled whine of his name falling from your lips, and he can’t help but groan.

With all thoughts of a glacial pace flying from his thoughts, he allows himself the pleasure of wrapping his lips around your clit, alternating between sucking and licking in hopes he could hear you call his name once more. At least once more.

Oh but he doesn’t have to wait for long, his name practically pours from your lips in rapid succession as he continues his actions, the tremble in your legs intensifying. Shifting in his spot, he blocks your leg with his shoulder so that he can free a hand, the tips of his fingers promptly prodding at your entrance. Earning an anguished whine from you as he leans away from your pretty pussy, his heart thrums at the way your eyes roll back when he shoves a finger inside of you, quickly following it up with another.

There isn’t much he is proud of, but his fingers are one of them. He doesn’t miss the way your back instantly bows off the desk when he curls them and finds your sweet spot.

“Y-yoongi,” you cry out, beginning a new song of his name with explicit curses that sound so sinfully sweet, his jaw is aching.

Desperate to see how quick he could get you off on his fingers, he leans forward again to provide unabated licks to your clit. The light behind his eyes is almost blinding as your bodies remain connected, the shadows sticking to the far walls away from your shine, but quaking at the pleasure they feel through him. He wasn’t even undressed, and he felt as if he could cum on the spot, just on the feel of you against him. Of the mix of pleasure and pain as he refuses to lose any form of contact with you. And you must have felt the same, because you basically wail your impending orgasm a mere second before it comes crashing.

But he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop. He continues sucking at you and savors the battle your body has, conflicted on whether you should withdraw from the overstimulation, or stay under his tongue as the pain rolls into renewed pleasure. All Yoongi can think about is pleasing you, devouring you in every way he can because this is nothing he has ever felt before.

Your grip in his hair tightens painfully, and he moans at the way you try to stop him. Finally caving in to your demands, he pulls back from your clit and looks you in the eyes, a growl tearing from his chest at the look on your face. You had to be as far gone as he, possibly further gone considering your pupils had practically consumed the iris, your wings spread taut across the desk. His own wings twitch at the sight, and it only takes him a mere five seconds to pull his clothes off and throw them across the room with yours.

Five seconds seem like too much to him, and possibly to you too, because you are standing in front of him by the time he finishes. You have managed to remove your bra and panties on your ascent, your hands coming forward to grab his shoulders, a flash of your wings switching your positions. His vision all but careens at the intensely quick motion, unable to keep up with the change as the room spins. When his eyes are finally able to focus, you have him lying against the desk, scrambling to climb on top of him.

His cock twitches at your juices dripping onto him, each drop tingling against his skin until your flesh makes contact with his once again, the sheer pleasure of pain zinging through him. Reaching forward, his hands grab hold of your hips, desperate to bring your entrance against his member. Your mind seems to be in sync with his, as your hand shoots down to grip his cock, bringing his head to your dripping core. He growls at the onslaught, his thighs tensing for fear that he would lose if before he could get himself in you.

You waste no time in letting his thick cock slide in, your neck becoming exposed as you throw your head back, a cry echoing in the office. The shadow’s tighten their position, absorbing your moans as you beg him to release his grip on your hips, desperate to move so as to allow the tip of his dick to rub over your spot. But his grip is ruthless, the onslaught of pleasure and pain putting him at the edge, and he was not going to lose it now.

Tears are trailing down your cheeks as you meet his gaze, your eyes widening as you observe the slithering shadows wrapping around his neck, quivering in hopes he would lose control in this moment of fragility. Your hands move towards the shadows, the tips of your fingers connecting with the skin at his neck as they retreat, the thrum of his pulse accelerating beneath your fingertips. All control flees from him as his hands grab yours, your fingers intertwining before he thrusts, a silent command to move.

Oh, how you felt above him. Pure bliss. Your hips snap as you grind against his cock, your back arching as you try and move faster. He can feel the shake of your thighs, the shivers as goosebumps travel down your body, turning your nipples into hardened nubs. He lifts himself slightly to take one of those buds into his mouth, groaning against your skin as you practically cry his name. A constant tune of his name on your lips, collective curses intertwining between your bodies as your grip on his hands tighten.

He forces his eyes to remain open, unwilling to lose contact with your body above his, his eyes flitting to all parts of you. He never wanted to forget how beautiful you look above him, how well you balance him as your skin made his burn in all the best ways. Your walls tighten around him, signaling your fast approaching release, and your cries of pleasure grow in volume. Digging his feet into the desk, he lifts his lower half in hopes it will give you more leverage against him, but it was also his desperate way to be closer to you in all the ways he could be.

Your back curves as you halt above him, your walls spasming against him as your juices gush out, the push of your orgasm almost causing him to slip out. He grits his teeth as he forces himself to stay inside of you, his grip unmerciful as you continue to squirt on his cock, soaking his lower abdomen.

Desperation consumes his body as he watches you unravel above him, and his grip on your fingers release, his hands moving to your hips as he adjusts his stance. He revels at your cry of surprise when he begins to slam himself up into you, your chest coming forward to rest against his own, changing the angle in which he enters you. Your lips rest against the thick vein in his neck, your teeth nibbling at his skin as your hands run up his arms before slipping through his hair. If the pain was intense before, his body was practically aflame as your fingers grip at his hair, your walls remaining clenched around him. His thigh muscles scream as he chases his high, frantically speeding up further when he feels the end near. His wings twitch, pitching forward as they comfortably make contact with yours, the bond of a thousand lifetimes pushing him over the edge.

It takes him a moment to realize you’re both in the air, his wings having carried you both off the desk, and you both softly float back towards it. You remain on top of him, your eyes searching his own as your wings stay connected, cocooning your bodies as the bond is finalized.

“I found you,” he whispers.

A small smile claims your lips as you stare back at him, his heart swelling at your reply.

“I found you.”

#Bts #Bts smut #Bts Yoongi #Min Yoongi #Yoongi #Yoongi smut #Min Yoongi smut #Yoongi x Reader #Fae Yoongi #Monarch Yoongi #CEO Yoongi #Fae Reader #A Shadow's Light #btscreatorscorner #bangtanhq #ficswithluv

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huntertales · 3 years

Text

Part One: Tough Love. (Bad Boys S09E07)

Episode Summary: When an old friend of Dean’s asks for help to solve a murder, Sam and the reader discover that the older Winchester as a secret past—one that will help solve the hunt. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 4.591.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

Silence was a rare occurrence in the bunker, even more so when everyone was home. Despite the place being vast and wide with countless rooms to occupy, you and the boys typically stuck with the same out of functionality and comfort. One room in particular quickly turned into a personal favorite among all of you when you moved in almost a year ago. The library was the perfect spot to get research done for an upcoming hunt and lounge around with a drink after a job well done. It was also the only spot where it was impossible to hear actual quietness. No sounds of talking or obscene noises that ruined the reason why Sam wanted to be here in the first place.

Out of all the rooms the bunker had to offer, it was obvious to Sam the library was his most favorite of it all. Just like you and his brother. You enjoyed it for the perfect atmosphere that it brought for research. Dean loved the comfy chairs and expensive liquor he drank on the odd occasions. It might have been easy to guess that Sam loved the library for the several shelves of books on lore. A hunter's dream come true. While that was part of it, there were little gems spread around that had caught his attention. First editions of classic novels he heard of before, and a few he discovered by accident. Sam forgot the last time he was able to read a book that wasn't for learning about a monster or figuring out how to undo the mess of Heaven. All he wanted to do was sit down with a good book and just relax. Today felt like the day he might be able to do that.

Sam called out his brother's name first, a few seconds later it was followed by Kevin's. His answer was dead silence. A smile crept on the edges of his lips when he stepped into the library to see that it was perfect. You looked up from your laptop when you heard Sam's voice break your concentration from what you had been working on. Dean was off somewhere else while Kevin decided to work on the translations in a different part of the bunker, hoping a change of scenery might help him focus better. You turned your attention back to the laptop to continue working, filling the air with the sounds of your keyboard tapping. A familiar tune that brought the younger Winchester back to his college days. Sam decided to join you.

Sam made his way over to the bookshelf, the exact one he'd come in here for, and glanced over the several battered hardcovers. He pretended to casually gloss over the titles as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother was still gone. You wouldn't have cared about the fact that he plucked off a red cover novel that he couldn't stop thinking about. One with a familiar title of a land you both had thought was fictional. Filled with characters by the name of Dorothy and the Wicked Witch, who were in fact real people. Sam had been itching to read the series for himself to get a taste of the real magic, a fraction of the adventures Charlie was having in Oz.

Sitting down in the chair nestled in the corner, Sam happily got himself comfortable and opened up the book to the first page, with a little too much eagerness for a series that was supposed to be written for children. No one was too old for a classic tale. However, right before Sam could even read the first word, he overheard a noise over your typing and occasional clip from the trackpad. It sounded like vibrations. A slight annoyed look crossed his face at the disruption. It only deepened when Sam watched as you continued to sit there, mindlessly scrolling through whatever was keeping your attention. Sam passively shut the book a little too loudly. You still didn't acknowledge the vibrating phone on the table across from your own.

"Please, let me." Sam muttered to himself. He set his book aside on another shelf and reluctantly made his way over to the phone. Glancing down at the caller I.D., it turned out to be a number he wasn't familiar with. Not the one to ignore a call, he pulled the charger out from the plug and answered before it could go to voicemail. "Hello?" The voice on the other line was male, and not one he was able to recognize. You finally glanced up from your laptop from what you heard next. Sam smiled to himself at the ridiculous nickname for whomever they were trying to reach. "I'm sorry, there's no Dee-dawg, uh..."

"I got it. I got it." Dean came out of nowhere, seeming to have heard the conversation from wherever he was, and plucked the phone out from his brother's hand. "Sonny, hey. So, what's up?" You shut your laptop and got up from your seat at hearing the one-sided conversation unfold, curious as to who was on the other end. Never in your life did you hear someone use a nickname like that on Dean. You wondered who this Sonny guy was. "All right. Yeah, just sit tight. I'll be there soon as I can."

You made your way over to the boys right as Dean ended the call. You casually crossed your arms over your chest and sat down on the edge of the table, a little curious as to who contacted him. "So, what was that all about, Dee-dwag?" You couldn't help the smile that crossed your face at the nickname that sounded childish coming out from your mouth.

"Sammy, you remember when we were kids that spring in upstate New York?" Dea tried to spark an old memory in his brother's mind, despite how their childhood wasn't spent in one place for very long. They'd visited so many different places, so many small towns with motels that blurred into the same place. "Dad was on a rugaru hunt. We crashed at the, uh...the bungalow colony with the ping-pong table?'

"Yeah. You disappeared. Dad came back. You were gone. He shipped me off to Bobby's for a couple and went and found you." Sam remembered the details from the time he was twelve. While the small details were a bit fuzzy, there was no forgetting the moments when his father got beyond angry after coming back from a hunt to see disaster had struck. "You were lost on a hunt or something.”

Dean's expression changed at hearing his brother's version of the story that differed from his own, almost like it refreshed his own memory. "That’s what we told you. Right."

"I'm sorry?" You were caught off guard at what Dean said. John was never going to be father of the year in your eyes. He was a lot of things, but a liar was not one of them. You furrowed your brow in confusion. "That's what you told Sam?"

"Truth is, uh..." Dean came clean with the real version of what really happened all those years ago while you continued to listen. You and his brother both appeared to be interested as to why John felt the need to keep up the lie for so many years. What could have been so bad that Sam wasn't able to know? "I lost the food money that Dad left for us in a card game. I knew you'd get hungry, so...I tried taking the five-finger discount at the local market and got busted. I wasn't on a hunt. They sent me to a boys' home."

"A boys' home, like a...reform school?" You took a wild guess as to where he ended up for those few months. You didn't understand the need to cover up the truth, and why John let him stay there for all that time. You weren't a personal fan of the way John raised his children, having made a remark here and there over the years, you figured it was for the best to keep some things to yourself. It might have been one of the few moments in Dean's life where there was an actual proper guardian looking over him. Beside Bobby, of course.

"Yeah, more or less. It was a farm, and the guy who ran it—Sonny—he, you know, he looked after me." Dean told you the rest of the story. You always enjoyed meeting people from the boys' past, it was almost like getting to discover another part of their tangled and strange childhood.

"Wait." Sam was caught up on one detail as to why the older man was calling out of the blue. People from their past don't call just to say hello, unless there was a problem attached to that greeting in need of solving. "Does Sonny know what we do?"

"Yeah. He's good people. I gave him the number to the Bat Phone, and it sounds like he's got something in our wheelhouse." Dean said. You nodded your head in agreement at the plan. Sometimes people were believers in the supernatural, sometimes it took a strange phenomenon for them to understand. You covered your mouth with your hand when you found yourself letting out a yawn, which didn't go unnoticed. "Hey, you gonna be cool do this, or are you too tired?”

"Yeah, I'm just, uh..." You pushed yourself up to your feet and tried to get yourself to feel more awake. You blamed your sluggishness on the lack of your usual amount of caffeine. There was no way you were missing out on a hunt because you felt tired. "I'll be fine."

Dean wanted to take your word on that alone, but he wanted to be sure. He placed a hand on the back of a chair and balanced the other on the table, leaning down to ask you an odd sounding question. "And everybody's okay with heading out to the Catskills?"

You found yourself looking around the library to see who Dean might be talking to, despite the fact he was making full eye contact with you. You raised your brow slightly and smiled at his behavior. "Unless Sammy has other reservations, we are everybody.”

"Yeah. Right. All right." Dean stood back up into a standing position, pretending like everything was back to normal once more. You didn't see the strange look Sam passed his brother from the way he was acting about a certain someone. "Grab your stuff, and we'll head out."

You rolled your eyes as you watched Dean make his way out the library to pack a few things for the hunt ahead of you. Before he could get too far, Sam stopped him. He needed to ask a question of his own about the conversation spoken just a few moments ago. "Hey, Dean...why didn't you just tell me you went to a boys' home?"

"I don't know. It was Dad's idea." Dean said. "And it just—you know, the story became the story. I was sixteen."

For some reason you felt like Dean wasn't telling you the whole story. It felt out of character for John to make up some lie to Sam. A parent would most likely make this a teachable moment. Screw up enough and you'll end up in a boys' home for a few months. You looked over at Sam to see he shared the same confused expression as yourself.

+ + +

You weren't sure what to expect when you made it to the Catskills where Sonny's home was nestled in. You heard of homes for troubled youth for behavior and crimes that weren't drastic enough for juvenile hall. An alternative that was the epitome of tough love for kids with parents who reached their end, or for those who didn’t care enough to bother trying at all. "Sonny's Home For Boys'' greeted you and the brothers of the establishment where Dean spent a few months by himself. It turned out to be exactly like Dean said, it was just a farm that had seen better days with a cozy looking home nestled on top of the hill.

Dean parked the Impala on the dirt road that led up to the house and got out, you and Sam following quickly after. He glanced around the area to see if it might still look the way he remembered. You swore you saw a smile across his face when you happened to glance over his way, the kind someone got when returning to a happy memory. You took a look around yourself to see what made this so special. For a kid who spent his entire life from town to town, stability was something he might have craved. He had his own bed for a couple of months. Dean didn't have to worry about taking care of someone for those two months besides himself...You wondered if that’s why Dean kept it a secret.

"You were here for two months and Dad couldn't find you?" Sam examined the farm for himself to try and see what was so special about this place that made Dean want to stay. It was another small town with acres of farmland that most likely was taken care of by the boys who stayed here. Not exactly paradise for a sixteen year old who'd been all over the country to settle for a little while.

"Oh, no. He found me quick. But he left me here 'cause I lost our money." Dean told you the reason for his extended stay, following a chuckle like it was all some funny story. You and Sam shared the same unamused sort of expression when the both of you happen to turn your heads to look at one another.

"You were sixteen." You came to the older man's defense to try and realize the punishment was a little harsh for something stupid. When you were at that age, what few months you still had left of teenage bliss, you fooled around and got yourself into deep trouble. Maybe not gambling away food money while your father abandoned you for God knows how long while you were forced to take care of another sibling...still, you felt the punishment didn't fit the crime. "You made a mistake."

"Yeah. I made the mistake." Dean said, seeming to refuse to try and see things from your perspective. "Look, I know how you guys think. None of this was Dad's fault."

Was it ever in the eyes of Dean? You kept your thoughts to yourself and trailed behind the boys as you made your way up the porch steps. Dean knocked on the door and waited a few seconds before someone answered. It was a middle aged woman who opened up, leaving the screen door as a barrier between you and her. You noticed right away from the stern look on her face she didn't seem too pleased to see three strangers standing on the porch. You figured Sonny didn't tell her company was coming. You spotted the gold cross that hung from her neck, the size of it was too hard not to miss. A holy woman helping run a boys' home. There was nothing scarier than a God fearing woman.

The woman crossed her arms over her chest when Dean offered a friendly smile and a polite hello. "What can I do for you kids?"

"I'm Dean. This is my brother, Sam. And this is our friend, Y/N." Dean introduced all of you. "We're old buddies of Sonny's."

"Prison buddies?" She was quick to judge, causing Sam to clear his throat at the quick escalation of who Sonny was before even meeting him. You softly nudged the man in the ribs and gave him a side-eyed glare before smiling at the woman.

"No." Dean said. "You mind telling him that we're here?"

"I'll go get him." She responded a few seconds later, taking the time to give all of you a once over in some kind of way to make sure you were decent people. Not some strangers from Sonny's past he had all left where it should stay. Dean opened up the screen door and was about to step inside, but she stopped him before doing such a thing. "I just mopped this floor, so you take off those roach stompers."

Not the one to make a bad impression, you and the boys listened, slipping off your shoes so they laid on the porch before stepping inside. Sam felt the need to bring up a small fact about the man who ran this place, finding it rather odd someone who had a run-in with the law now helped troubled youth. "Sonny's an ex-con, huh?"

"What, and we're such angels?" Dean scoffed at his brother's passive judgement on the guy before he got the proper chance to meet him. "Trust me, he's more than made up for it."

Dean stepped inside the home first with you and his brother following behind. You looked around while Dean took everything in about the place that hadn't changed since the last time he was here almost twenty years ago. The furniture was still the same as he remembered, Sonny even kept the awards in the same spot of their accomplishments. Dean didn't realize how much he missed this place, despite not wanting to be here at first when he was a teenage punk who gave the cop who arrested him a black eye. He might still have the same sarcastic charm and hatred for authority when he was a kid, but there was no doubt in his mind Sonny taught him some valuable lessons during his stay here.

"Dee-dwag!" You heard that ridiculous nickname again, this time coming from the man who gave it to Dean. You saw an older man step out from another room with a wide smile on his face at the sight of the fully grown Winchester.

"Sonny, good to see you." Dean greeted the man with the same happiness in his voice. He embraced the man into a tight hug after meeting up again after so many years apart.

"Hey, you, too, brother." Sonny said. Pulling away, he noticed that Dean didn't make the journey up here alone. He was quick to notice the tall man looming around was the little brother Dean talked so much about. "Oh, and this must be Sam."

“Good to meet you.” Sam greeted the man with a friendly smile of his own.

"Back at you, brother." Sonny grabbed the younger Winchester's hand to shake when he stuck it out before dropping it back down to his side. He finally turned his attention to you, trying to put a name to a face. “I don’t believe Dean mentioned you before.”

"Sonny, this is my girlfriend, Y/N Y/L/N.” Dean rarely introduced you as such to people. Most of the time it was either hunting partner or family friend to strangers from his past. For some reason he felt the need to tell Sonny the deeper relationship you had with him. "She's a close family friend of ours. We’ve known each other since we were born. Circumstances broke us apart, but we actually reunited back together a year after I left this place." You looked over at him and smiled, the thought of seventeen soon-to-be eighteen Dean was a drastic difference to the man who stood in front of you today.

"Good for you." Sonny seemed to be proud at hearing Dean had landed himself in a happy relationship. From the way you two looked at each other it was easy to tell he was head over heels in love. "He ain't giving you too much trouble now, has he?"

"Not anymore than usual. But it’s what I signed up for." You joked with Sonny. You lightly tapped Dean on his chest and flashed him a smile. “Good thing I love him.”

Dean couldn't help the bashful sort of smile that crossed his face at hearing you say those three words to him. Normally they were saved for private moments where no one could hear you. You carelessly tossed them around and meant them. Dean felt a spark of pride hit him out of nowhere for some reason. As if he was showing Sonny he ended up okay for himself.

"So," Dean continued on with the conversation. "The farm looks."

"Oh, please, man. It's barely standing." Sonny brushed off the empty compliment that was just the polite way to make small talk before going in for the real reason why all of you were here. "Only got a handful of kids working around here."

Dean's face scrunched up slightly at hearing that news. When he was here back in the day, almost every bed was taken here with no one left without a job to do as instructed by Sonny. "Why's that?"

"Because these days, the system would rather incarcerate a boy than redeem him." Sonny replied.

"Hey, Sonny, uh," Sam happened to look across over to the dining room to spot the woman who answered the door was lingering around in an obvious sort of way. She was wiping an already clean table with a rag. You could tell she was trying to eavesdrop. Sam made sure to drop his voice to a whisper as he casually crossed his arms over his chest. "You mind if we talk alone?"

"Hey, Ruth," Sonny looked over his shoulder to see she was lingering around for whatever reason why. Maybe she wanted to know why a bunch of strangers from Sonny’s past decided to come by without a warning. "Would you please go check on the boys, make sure their money chores are getting done?"

Ruth hesitantly nodded her head before making her way somewhere far enough away to keep the conversation going without worry. "All right." Dean jumped to the real reason why all of you were here in the first place. "So, what's happening?"

"Well, you remember Jack, do you?" Sonny asked.

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah. The tough, old leatherneck."

"Mmhm. Well, somehow, that ancient, rusty, broken-down tractor just roared to life and ran him over the other night." Sonny shared the strange and unfortunate news of an old worker here who suffered a strange and terrible sounding death that was out of the ordinary.

"Maybe it just slipped out of park or something." You guessed, trying to figure out a more logical reason behind it.

"Couldn't have. You know, I never believed any of this mumbo-jumbo stuff you kids are into, but...something ain't right." Sonny said. His concern made you a little bit curious as to what he meant by all of that. "Well, just things started happening—lights flickering on and off, strange scratching sounds coming from inside the walls, windows and doors slamming."

"All right. You think you can round up the boys while we take a look around?" Dean asked, having heard enough to suspect of what might be going on around here.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Most are home on a break—well, except those with no home worth going to." Sonny said.

Sonny went on to round up the boys so they wouldn't be around to disturb any of you when you got to the bottom of figuring out what might be going on. "All right. Why don't you and Y/N take the house?" Dean suggested a plan to you and his brother. "I'll check the barn."

The both of you nodded your head in agreement before going your own seperate ways to get a proper sweep of the house. Sam decided to take the upstairs part of the house while you stuck with the downstairs, thinking you might be able to cover more ground that way while Dean stuck with the parts of the farm he was familiar with. You took a sweep of the main parts of the house to see there was nothing out of the ordinary from what you usually looked for in this situation; no EMF, no sulfur and not a trace of a hex bag. Even though what Sonny described was typically signs of a spirit, it didn't hurt to check off all the boxes just to be safe if things ended up not being what you thought.

Soon enough you made your way into the bedroom area where the boys slept after a hard day’s work. You spotted at least a half dozen twin sized beds spread around the place. Some of them were messy, a few of them were perfectly made. Sonny was right about there not being a lot of boys anymore. You looked around the place to see it almost seemed like any other bedroom. Plenty of furniture, some toys and board games lying around. You realized that this was the exact same room Dean spent two months in when he was sixteen. And you got confirmation he was here when you spotted something engraved into one of the beds.

Your fingers brushed over a hunting symbol carved into the bedpost that was most likely done by Dean himself. A smile crossed your face at the thought of teenage Dean protecting himself from evil while alone from his family, despite it only being his brother and absent father. You crouched down when you spotted some masking tape on the foot of the bed as well, making up as some kind of nameplate. Out of curiosity, you pulled off the first layer, revealing another name that you guessed belonged to another boy who slept in this bed previously. You pulled off another piece of tape, and another, and another until you came across the one you had been looking for—Dean W.

Your head snapped away from the tape and to the door across the room when you heard rustling that broke your concentration. The door that led to the other room was opened slightly, giving you enough of a bad feeling not to go in there without some kind of precaution. Slowly, you pushed yourself back up to your feet and reached for the knife you kept tucked in the back of your jeans. You made your way over, taking cautious steps when you heard what sounded to be a whispering female voice. You didn’t take into consideration there might have been another bedroom located right next to the boys’, it was a small house after all. And it might have been Ruth’s. You discovered that a little too late.

You pushed open the door, expecting to find the thing who killed Jack standing across from you, only it turned out to be someone else. You quickly whipped the knife behind your back when you realized it was in fact Ruth. She had been kneeling at her bed before you scared her. "I am so sorry." You quickly apologized to the woman at the accidental mishap, suddenly feeling like a fool for mistaking her whispering for something evil when it was in fact most likely a prayer from the rosary beads that was tight in her grip. "I thought I saw something in—”

"Like a ghost?" Ruth's presumption made you look at her a little funny, wondering how she managed to come up with that conclusion on her own. "Sonny told me you were old friends, but I know why you're really here. That's why I was praying for us."

"Praying for what?"

"For the ghost that haunts this farm to leave."

Rewrite Taglist:

@deansquirreljerkwinchester // @everything-i-tried-was-taken // @starswirlblitz // @supernaturalismydrug // @we-are-band-sexuals // @angiewinchestercas // @kaylinfayezink // @owhatshername1 // @kgbrenner // @cleo-is-my-doggy // @eeyore1988 // @dakota-dream // @lilylovelyxo // @timetravelingginger // @holahellohialoha // @quicksilver123456 // @natashacamillas //@lexi-anastasia //@kaylinfayezink // @deanwnchstr @albot-eh // @rashinyx2002 // @shellybeans // @icantfindacreativeurl // @becs-bunker // @oreosatmidnight // @bands-and-shietz // @fabulousmustachesonapolarbear // @clarewinchester // @releasethekracko // @alex-zeppelin // @mega-mrs-dean-winchester // @theskytraveler // @notmoose94 //@assassinofmasyaf // @caswinchester2000 // @savannah-m-99 // @sunlight-dean // @strayrosesbloom // @that-slytherin-over-there // @1000roughdrafts // @its-medeanwinchester // @simplyhemmings // @dream-believe-and-love // @that-winged-rat

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smokedstorybara · 3 years

Text

I have so many bnha fanfic ideas, they’ve just been popping into my head every few days for weeks now

So I’m just gonna share them all on this one post instead of making a million new fandom posts out of nowhere (ok, it’s closer to, like, ten - but still!)

If any of y’all want me to actually write any of them, don’t hesitate to say so - or if you just want to ask questions and talk about the ideas I’d be totally down for that too

Also, if any of them inspire you to write or draw something, please send me a link when you’re done!

(under a readmore cause it’s long and also there’s spoilers)

Fae courts AU

Nedzu - Spring King

U.A. / The Spring Court - also known as the Court of Lost Children, all members of the Court were once human children or children of one of the other Courts and they view it as their duty to care for the lost, neglected, and abused children of the world (one of two child stealing Courts)

All Might - Summer King

All For One - Winter King

Objectively, the Summer and Winter Courts are not as different as they like to believe - a Summer fae is just as likely to trick or turn on you as a Winter fae, they just prefer to play at benevolence while Winter fae make no secret of their nature

Shie Hassaikai / The Autumn Court - used to be more like a lesser version of the Summer and Winter Courts, until Overhaul put the King to sleep and made his research into humanity the Court’s focus - they’re now the second child stealing Court

Eraserhead was once human but has made enough deals over the years - most notably with Nezu himself - that he’s practically fae now

Deku and Kachan are human children who were taken in by the Spring Court, though Deku only after catching the attention of All Might

Endeavor - High Fae in the Summer Court - wants to become Summer King but knows he’s not powerful enough to overthrow All Might, married a High Winter Fae in hopes that combining their powers would make one of their kids powerful enough

Dabi fakes his death and eventually becomes a High Fae in the Winter Court

Shouto seeks sanctuary in the Spring Court’s halls

(I don’t actually have a plot for it, but I’m enjoying figuring out the world and stuff)

Evil All Might AU

The underworld knows that young Yagi Toshinori is a con-artist, and a very good one

The kid’s quirkless, and from a bad neighborhood, so of course he gets involved in shady dealings to get by

But he never ever gets caught

See, he’s mastered the eager, innocent, “I know I’m quirkless, but it’s my dream to be a hero! To fight crime! To be someone people can look up to, put their faith in! To be a… a symbol!” act, he’s been running that con any time he’s found in the wrong place at the wrong time since he first started walking - no one with even a single good bone in their body ever questions it

He gets involved with AFO, who’s like “I could give you one of my lesser quirks in exchange for your loyalty, or you could do a long undercover mission for me and get one of the most powerful quirks in existence out of it”

His mission: pulling his signature con on Shimura Nana, being given One for All, becoming a hero, becoming the Number One Hero and Symbol of Peace and the singular pillar holding up hero society, maintaining that status for long enough that everyone grows a little complacent, finding a weak and manipulable child to pass One for All on to, setting them up to fail, and then retiring

(I’d either have this one be All Might-focused and end with the reveal, or have it be Izuku-focused and give it a happy ending where All Might totally chose the wrong kid, cause nothing about Izuku is weak)

Commission analyst Izuku au

Member of the commission overhears him muttering/catches a glance at his notebook while watching a hero fight, strikes up a conversation

The commission tracks him down, shows up at his home with a similar offer to the one they gave Hawks - but instead of a hero they want him to be an analyst for them

Like Hawks, they take away his name, only calling him something like Eagle Eye or something (I’d go with Hawkeye but Hawks already exists so it might be weird?)

(Basically this fic idea is just an excuse to have Izuku and Hawks as the ultimate team, and helping each other get out from under the commission’s thumb - maybe revolutionizing hero society along the way)

Canon rewrite w/ Monoma as main character, somehow

All I have for this one so far is just:

Monoma copies afo, uses copied afo to steal afo, AFO is now defeated

After getting better at controlling her quirk, Eri rewinds Kurogiri back into Shirakumo Oboro

But he’s the age he was when he died

So he joins the current class 2-A

As in Izuku’s class

Basically it’s just his old best friends having to teach him and him making friends with all Aizawa’s problem children

Time travel

(I have multiple cause I really like time travel)

Aizawa-centric time loop fic

Loop stretching from day before Oboro’s death to towards the end of the liberation war (diverging from canon in at least the first loop cause he fucking dies during the fight)

At first he thinks maybe he just, like, dreamt up those 14(?) years

But then things are happening the same way and so he starts changing things and he dies and wakes up the day before Oboro’s death again

He experiments a lot with the loops, figuring out that they’re definitely not time based - unless it’d loop back at the end of the liberation war even if he survives? Requires further testing

Details he changes throughout the loops (culminating in a loop in which he successfully changes all of them):

Oboro’s death

Shimura Tenko being taken in by All for One, All Might’s injury(?), Izuku accepting One for All, and more I haven’t fully decided on

Time travel fic where Pro Hero Deku accidentally time travels back to just before Aizawa’s first year as a student at ua and somehow gets hired as a teacher

Gonna be a two-parter

Part one: Izuku has to teach teen versions of his old high school teachers, channels their future selves a little

Part two: Aizawa, Yamada, and Kayama have to teach the teen version of their old favorite high school teacher, and end up channeling his future self - in different ways

(I’ve come across a couple different “Izuku gets accidentally sent back in time to when his teachers were students” fanfics and they keep making me think about how Aizawa & co would react to meeting him in canon timeline after meeting him in high school and then I took the natural step forward from there to “let’s parallel their nostalgia, make him their high school teacher so it can really hit hard”)

Izuku is related to rooftop trio aus

(I’ve come across a bunch of “Izuku is the biological son of at least one member of the rooftop trio” aus but only one acknowledges that in canon he’s only 15 years younger than them and that one has a very angsty explanation, so I wanted some that fit with canon and also aren’t too heavy - cause like, sure you could go with the complex extremely angsty trauma reason or you could go with the “these 13-16-year-olds(idk Inko’s canon age and as long as I never look it up I can pretend I’m not going against canon by making her only 2-ish years older than them) did what teenagers do and went to a party and made some relatively innocent mistakes and ended up with a pregnancy”)

Dadoro

Oboro and Inko have been neighbors and best friends their whole childhood, despite being a couple years separated in age

The fall before Oboro starts high school, Inko takes him along to a party with her high school friends

They get drunk and sleep together

Inko gets pregnant

They talk it through with each other and their families and agree to keep the baby (they’re both actually pretty excited to be parents) and raise it together platonically

Some months into first year (maybe second), Oboro tells his friends about his kid

Spends the rest of his life gushing about Izuku to all his friends (sorry for the word choice fjdhshshx)

Oboro dies and his friends make pact to help Inko take care of Izuku once they have steady income and stuff

But Inko’s family has moved and she’s married and they can’t find her

They keep searching, for roughly 14 years

And then Midoriya Izuku enrolls in UA’s hero course and his big green eyes and curly green hair match the pictures Oboro used to show them and his smile is identical to their old friend’s

And his mom’s name is Inko

But they’re not sure (His quirk doesn’t match Oboro’s nor his Inko’s after all)

Not until after the first term and the summer training disaster camp and Kamino, when All Might and Aizawa go house to house talking to parents about the dorms and All Might tries to insist on visiting the Midoriyas alone but Aizawa insists right back cause this is the closest he’s come to confirmation

and then he’s face to face with a woman he’s only ever seen in photographs

And then they talk about everything or something idk I haven’t got that far

Dadzawa and Dadmic (trans!aizawa)

A year and a half before he starts high school(I know I changed the timeline a whole year here but shush, how’s he supposed to get into U.A.’s hero course while pregnant?), Aizawa’s middle school and one or two others have a Joint Event, at which he meets a loud but cute blonde who keeps flirting with him

They hook up

He gets pregnant

His dad insists he get an abortion but he doesn’t want to and his mom supports his decision, they convince his dad to let him go through with the pregnancy on the condition that he gives the baby up for adoption immediately

He has twins, both boys (one with green eyes like the blonde’s(but darker) and the other with purple like Shouta’s mother’s)(that’s right, Shinsou is also their son in this, you’re welcome), and he gives them up for adoption to separate families

But with conditions

No one from his blood family is allowed to initiate contact with either boy without the kid’s knowing consent (he’s terrified of his father changing his mind, tracking them down, and hurting them)

With the one exception being that he’s allowed to send each one a birthday present and card every year

Which he does

Then he starts at UA and then gets into the hero course and there he is… the blonde… the father of Shouta’s children… who does not recognize him now that he’s started transitioning

This time Shouta’s the one who flirts - or tries to, the kid’s a little too oblivious

Of course they do eventually get together, and even end up married! (Haven’t decided if they get together during high school or after they start teaching there or what(probably the latter, for plot reasons))

The first time Midoriya Inko contacts Shouta is after Izuku is diagnosed quirkless - she knows the young man loves her son as much as she does and might be able to reassure him where she already failed

His next birthday, Izuku’s mystery card says he can be a hero even without a quirk; it makes Izuku’s year

Hitoshi’s parents also contact Shouta that year, the boy struggling to make and keep friends ever since his quirk came in; Shouta’s birthday card to him isn’t much different from Izuku’s, really

The Shinsous get in an accident and Hitoshi is placed in foster care and suddenly Shouta can’t send him his yearly gift and card anymore cause nobody will tell him where the boy is now because of the contact portion of the adoption contract

They also won’t tell Hitoshi that he was adopted and his birth father is out there looking for him, so Shouta’s pretty sure they’re trying to hide that he’s being mistreated wherever he is

Inko continues to contact Shouta now and then whenever she thinks Izuku will need extra encouragement come his birthday (she never tells Izuku about being adopted - even after he enters his teen years - cause after his diagnosis, everyone but her left him and she doesn’t want him to internalize the idea that his birth parents didn’t want him - Shouta’s not happy with the decision, but he understands)

Then one year he sends Izuku a Present Mic figurine and she writes him to share how excited the boy was and how Present Mic is one of his favorite heroes and he listens to his radio show all the time and Shouta simultaneously melts and has a minor breakdown at the realization that he hasn’t told his husband that they have sons, he can’t tell Hizashi that their son listens to his radio show regularly when Hizashi doesn’t know Izuku even exists

So of course, being the rational man he is, he finally tells Hizashi about Izuku and Hitoshi

Hizashi freaks, of course (in a good way(mostly))

And then, one of the worst days of Shouta’s life

He’s on patrol and sees a figure on a rooftop and rushes to get there - just in case it’s a jumper - and it’s his son, his Izuku

They talk(it doesn’t breach the adoption contract, he didn’t know it was Izuku when he approached and the kid spoke first) and Izuku tells him “everything” about his encounter with All Might, Shouta tells him to tell his parents - they’re there to support him - and also that All Might’s full of shit and a quirkless hero is totally possible with the right training and enough willpower

Then after they leave the rooftop his kid gets in trouble again, rushing in to save a classmate from the same sludge villain that attacked him earlier that day

Of course Shouta swoops in and pulls the kids out of danger before All Might arrives to “save the day”

This time Shouta insists on walking Izuku home to make sure he actually gets there safely

But then All Might shows up again wanting to talk to his kid privately and he wants to tell the man to fuck off but he’s not legally allowed, really, so when Izuku says it’s fine he reluctantly leaves

Inko asks to meet him just days later

She tells him that Izuku told her everything about what happened that day - including what Shouta told him - and she tells him that she’s realized she needs to properly support her son in pursuing his dream

She understands that Shouta wouldn’t feel comfortable training him one-on-one with the kid not knowing who they are to each other, and she’s still not ready to tell him yet, so she asks for a list, for him to help her get in touch with people who can train Izuku or ways for Izuku to train on his own, ways for her to help

He puts her in contact with seven pro heroes (Midnight, Gunhead, the Wild Wild Pussycats, and - somehow - Sir Nighteye) and a vigilante team (the Naruhata Crawler and his team), all of whom he talks into helping - and has to tell about his connection to this boy they’ll be teaching

(Each have something important to teach him: Midnight - using words and body language to throw off opponents, Gunhead - martial arts, Wild Wild Pussycats - stamina, teamwork and use of your environment when out in nature, Sir Nighteye - analysis and planning, the Naruhata Vigilantes - use of gadgets and weapons, use of your environment when in the city, having the heart of a hero, and - most importantly - that quirkless people can be fucking strong and skilled and terrifying and certainly aren’t weak or useless (they were trained by a quirkless vigilante after all, they’re bound to have a different perspective on the idea of a quirkless hero than anyone else, a perspective Izuku could really benefit from))

Ten months later, Izuku passes UA’s entrance exam and is placed in Shouta’s class (he’s pretty sure Nezu did that on purpose)

When the school year starts, he and Hizashi discover that Izuku isn’t the only one in one of their classes - Hitoshi is in Hizashi’s homeroom

They are, of course, fucking extatic

They just need to, y’know, figure out how to tell him that they’re his parents and maybe possibly would love custody of him if he wants

(Again I haven’t gotten any further than that yet)

(Also, if you can’t tell, in this au Izuku turns down All Might’s offer of One for All, cause Eraserhead said he could be a hero without a quirk and was honestly a lot kinder and more responsible (like, making sure the kid got home safely instead of leaving him on a roof) and stuff than All Might and honestly might be his new favorite hero)

#bnha #mha #midoriya izuku #all might #aizawa shouta #shirakumo oboro #monoma neito #yamada hizashi

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nealiios · 2 years

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The Supernatural 70s: Part I - Corruption of An Innocent

"We're mutants. There's something wrong with us, something very, very wrong with us. Something seriously wrong with us - we're soldiers writers."

-- with apologies to the screenwriter of "Stripes"

Dear reader, I have the darkest of revelations to make to you, a truth when fully and wholly disclosed shall most assuredly chill you to the bone, a tale that shall make you question all that you hold to be true and good and holy about my personal history. While you may have come in search of that narrative designer best known for his works of interactive high fantasy, you should know that he is also a crafter of a darker art, a scribbler of twisted tales filled with ghosts, and ghouls, and gargoyles. I am, dear innocent, a devotee of horrors! Mwahahahaha!

[cue thunderclap, lightning, pipe organ music]

Given the genre of writing for which most of you know me, I forgive you if you think of me principally as a fantasy writer. I don't object to that classification because I do enjoy mucking about with magic and dark woods and mysterious ancient civilizations. But if you are to truly know who I am as a writer, you must realize that the image I hold of myself is principally as a creator of weird tales.

To understand how and why I came to be drawn to this sub-genre of fantastic fiction, you first must understand that I come from peculiar folks. Maybe I don't have the Ipswich look, or I didn't grow up in a castle, but my pedigree for oddity has been there from the start. My mother was declared dead at birth by her doctor, and often heard voices calling to her in the dead of night that no one else could hear. Her mother would periodically ring us up to discuss events in our lives about which she couldn't possibly have known. My father's people still share ghost stories about a family homestead that burned down mysteriously in the 1960s. Even my older brother has outré memories about events he says cannot possibly be true, and as a kid was kicked off the Tulsa city bookmobile for attempting to check out books about UFOs, bigfoot, and ESP. It's fair to say I was doomed - or destined - for weirdness from the start.

If the above listed circumstances had not been enough, I grew up in an area where neighbors whispered stories about a horrifically deformed Bulldog Man who stalked kids who "parked" on the Old North Road near my house. The state in which I was raised was rife with legends of bigfoots, deer women, and devil men. Even in my childhood household there existed a pantheon of mythological entities invented explicitly to keep me in line. If I was a good boy, The Repairman would leave me little gifts of Hot Wheels cars or candy. If I was being terrible, however, my father would dress in a skeleton costume, rise from the basement and threaten to drag me down into everlasting hellfire (evidently there was a secret portal in our basement.) There were monsters, monsters EVERYWHERE I looked in my childhood world. Given that I was told as a fledgling writer to write what I knew, how could anyone have been surprised that the first stories I wrote were filled with the supernatural?

"The Nightmare" by John Henry Fuseli (1781)

My formative years during the late sixties and early seventies took place at a strange juncture in our American cultural history. At the same time that we were loudly proclaiming the supremacy of scientific thought because we'd landed men on the moon, we were also in the midst of a counter cultural explosion of interest in astrology, witchcraft, ghosts, extra sensory perception, and flying saucers. Occult-related books were flying off the shelves as sales surged by more than 100% between 1966 and 1969. Cultural historians would come to refer to this is as the "occult boom," and its aftershocks would impact popular cultural for decades to come.

My first contact with tales of the supernatural were innocuous, largely sanitized for consumption by children. I vividly remember watching Casper the Friendly Ghost and the Disney version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow. I read to shreds numerous copies of both Where the Wild Things Are and Gus the Ghost. Likely the most important exposure for me was to the original Scooby Doo, Where Are You? cartoon which attempted to inoculate us from our fears of ghosts and aliens by convincing us that ultimately the monster was always just a bad man in a mask. (It's fascinating to me that modern incarnations of Scooby Doo seem to have completely lost this point and instead make all the monsters real.)

ABOVE: Although the original cartoon Scooby Doo, Where Are You? ran only for one season from 1969 to 1970, it remained in heavy reruns and syndication for decades. It is notable for having been a program that perfectly embodied the conflict between reason and superstition in popular culture, and was originally intended to provide children with critical thinking skills so they would reject the idea of monsters, ghosts, and the like. Ironically, modern takes on Scooby Doo have almost entirely subverted this idea and usually present the culprits of their mysteries as real monsters.

During that same time, television also introduced me to my first onscreen crush in the form of the beautiful and charming Samantha Stevens, a witch who struggles to not to use her powers while married to a frequently intolerant mortal advertising executive in Bewitched. The Munsters and The Addams Family gave me my first taste for "goth" living even before it would become all the rage in the dance clubs of the 1980s. Late night movies on TV would bring all the important horror classics of the past in my living room as Dracula, Frankenstein, the Wolf Man, the Invisible Man, the Phantom of the Opera, The Creature from the Black Lagoon, and Godzilla all became childhood friends. Over time the darkened castles, creaking doors, foggy graveyards, howling wolves, and ever present witches and vampires became so engrained in my psyche that today they remain the "comfort viewing" to which I retreat when I'm sick or in need of other distractions from modern life.

ABOVE: Elizabeth Montgomery starred in Bewitched (1964 - 1972) as Samantha Stephens, a witch who married "mortal" advertising executive Darren Stephens (played for the first five seasons by actor Dick York). Inspired by movies like I Married a Witch (1942) and Bell, Book and Candle (1958), it was a long running series that explored the complex relationship dynamics between those who possess magic and those who don't. Social commentators have referred to it as an allegory both for mixed marriages and also about the challenges faced by minorities, homosexuals, cultural deviants, or generally creative folks in a non heterogeneous community. It was also one of the first American television programs to portray witches not as worshippers of Satan, but simply as a group of people ostracized for their culture and their supernatural skills.

Even before I began elementary school, there was one piece of must-see gothic horror programming that I went out of my way to catch every day. Dark Shadows aired at 3:30 p.m. on our local ABC affiliate in Tulsa, Oklahoma which usually allowed me to catch most of it if I ran home from school (or even more if my mom or brother picked me up.) In theory it was a soap opera, but the show featured a regular parade of supernatural characters and themes. The lead was a 175 year old vampire named Barnabas Collins (played by Johnathan Frid), and the show revolved around his timeless pursuit of his lost love, Josette. It was also a program that regularly dealt with reincarnation, precognition, werewolves, time travel, witchcraft, and other occult themes. Though it regularly provoked criticism from religious groups about its content, it ran from June of 1966 until it's final cancellation in April of 1971. (I would discover it in the early 1970s as it ran in syndication.) Dark Shadows would spin off two feature-length movies based on the original, a series of tie-in novels, an excellent reboot series in 1991 (starring Ben Cross as Barnabas), and a positively embarrassingly awful movie directed by Tim Burton in 1991.

ABOVE: Johnathan Frid starred as Barnabas Collins, one of the leading characters of the original Dark Shadows television series. The influence of the series cannot be understated. In many ways Dark Shadows paved the way for the inclusion of supernatural elements in other soap operas of the 1970s and the 1980s, and was largely responsible for the explosion of romance novels featuring supernatural themes over the same time period.

While Dark Shadows was a favorite early television program for me, another show would prove not only to be a borderline obsession, but also a major influence on my career as a storyteller. Night Gallery (1969-1973) was a weekly anthology television show from Rod Serling, better known as the creator and host of the original Twilight Zone. Like Twilight Zone before it, Night Gallery was a deep and complex commentary on the human condition, but unlike its predecessor the outcomes for the characters almost always skewed towards the horrific and the truly outré. In "The Painted Mirror," an antiques dealer uses a magic painting to trap an enemy in the prehistoric past. Jack Cassidy plots to use astral projection to kill his romantic rival in "The Last Laurel" but accidentally ends up killing himself. In "Eyes" a young Stephen Spielberg directs Joan Crawford in a story about an entitled rich woman who plots to take the sight of a poor man. Week after week it delivered some of the best-written horror television of the early 1970s.

In retrospect I find it surprising that I was allowed to watch Night Gallery at all. I was very young while it was airing, and some of the content was dark and often quite shocking for its time. Nevertheless, I was so attached to the show that I'd throw a literal temper tantrum if I missed a single, solitary episode. If our family needed to go somewhere on an evening that Night Gallery was scheduled, either my parents would either have to wait until after it had aired before we left, or they'd make arrangements in advance with whomever we were visiting to make sure it was okay that I could watch Night Gallery there. I was, in a word, a fanatic.

ABOVE: Every segment of Night Gallery was introduced by series creator Rod Serling standing before a painting created explicitly for the series. Director Guillermo del Toro credits Serling's series as being the most important and influential show on his own work, even more so than the more famous Twilight Zone.

#horror #70s #occult #supernatural #television #writing

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lambourngb · 4 years

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This Hard Journey

Fic prompt: “There’s something you should know…” Michael Guerin Day 2. This picks up after yesterday’s “This Hard Life” - a part of interconnected ficlets of an AU after the shed, where Alex doesn’t join the Air Force. Mentions of Malex and an Alex/Other here. Finished on ao3 here.

***

He finally got a dog, was all that Michael could think as he sat outside of the house that matched the address Max pulled from the DMV. They had always wanted to get a dog together, but with pet deposits and the tight budget for rent and food, that had always been a non-starter for them. Not anymore.

The quiet shaded street just off of the Buchanan Arts District was lined with old-style Craftsman homes among the peppered in new, renovated sprawling McMansions born of the house flipping obsession during the real estate boom. New construction sprouting between old, mature trees, juxtaposing progress with tradition.

Alex had chosen one of the older homes, untouched by the remodeling fad with a large fenced in yard filling the property footprint, and a dog house that mimicked the main house in style. Two solid years of song-writing had rewarded Alex with financial security, and of course, after three years living in cramped efficiency apartments and noisy neighbors with Michael, the first thing Alex would want again was a house. The roots of his upper middle class childhood were never far away.

Pressing his forehead against the steering wheel, Michael worked to gather the courage that kept him propelled down the over 1,100 miles from Roswell to Nashville. He had made it here, the least he could do was knock on the door instead of freaking out over the fact that Alex had a house with a mortgage while all Michael could muster in the two years since was buying a bank-possessed Airstream.

At least it was better than sleeping rough in his truck again, something he had done when he fell behind on the rent after Alex had left.

Michael took a deep steadying breath and pushed himself out of his truck. The spans of sidewalk suddenly seemed longer than I-40 through Oklahoma. Another deep breath, the irony of borrowing Alex’s self-soothing habit not lost on Michael at all, he tucked his left hand into a pocket to hide the old damage and knocked firmly on the front door.

There was a long silence extended, shoving anticipation into chagrin as Michael turned his head to peek at the tiny side-carport, confirming there was a car there. A loud, chorus of deep barks picked up from within the house. The dog sounded big, but none of that registered as he picked up Alex’s voice, muffled and indistinct.

“-calm down, buddy. Stay- no, stay- It’s probably Daddy’s new speakers arriving-”

After two and half days of driving, Michael had perfected his speech to Alex. It hit every open wound between them, from the fact he was sorry he hadn’t gone with him, to the weak but true explanation that he wasn’t ready then, but he was now. Then finally the big dice throw, the gamble of everything, that every city needed a good mechanic, Nashville was no different, it was no pressure- but maybe? Maybe they could start over?

The door swung open, and like a bag of spilled marbles, all of Michael’s words scattered away from him.

“Michael?” Alex’s polite smile for an expected delivery dropped into disbelieving shock. He did a comical double take, looking back into the house, then to Michael, then over Michael’s shoulder. The classic Chevy truck parked on the street chased away the shock. “Jesus Christ, it really is you.”

“Alex.” Michael swallowed, his eloquence gone. “You look good.”

They had had three years together, and during that time Michael had seen so many different versions of Alex Manes. He had seen Alex tired, dark circles shading his eyes more consistently than eyeliner with an off-kilter alien antennae from the Crashdown. He had seen Alex resolute, using his shoulders to impart a warning in his black clad Wild Pony shirt to any drunk who dared to give him a hard time. He had seen Alex awkward, as he helped Michael with his chores at the Foster’s ranch when it came to cleaning out a cow pen or pulling the twine efficiently off baled hay. He had seen Alex ashamed, as Michael patiently explained during their first grocery store visit that the EBT card only covered certain items.

This Alex was new. Clean, well-rested, skin clear and not tight on his cheekbones from lean meals or bloated from cheap food. An earring shined from his ear, he was dressed in a soft v-neck shirt and artfully cut frayed jeans. Good was an understatement.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here- I’m here because Isobel got married, and um, she wanted to invite you, but I talked her out of it. I’m sorry. I mean for that, but also for like, everything. Not following you here was something I regretted every day since, but I thought- I thought I had to stay back then, but I don’t anymore- and there’s something you should know-”

“Babe? Is that our new speakers at the door?” A new voice called out, cutting off the word vomit that was spilling from Michael’s mouth beyond his control.

A male voice.

The wince and apology on Alex’s face told Michael everything he needed to know. Well. He probably should have seen that coming. Only Alex’s reaching out quickly to grab his hand as he turned away stopped him from bolting from the house.

“No, not our speakers, but an old friend from back home is here-” Alex called back, before turning back to make deliberate eye contact with Michael. “He wanted to stop by to say hello.”

A tall well-built black man came into view, holding a squirming pit bull in his arms, walked toward them both with a bright welcoming smile, “A friend from Roswell? An actual flesh and blood human who knows you? I was starting to think you were an alien, Alex.”

“Just because you’re related to half of Nashville and went to school with the other half, Dennis, doesn’t mean I sprouted from a pod-” Alex shot back playfully, clearly picking up a well-worn argument.

Like a couple. A real couple. With a house and a dog. Michael licked his dry lips, forcing his muscles upward, they probably had retirement accounts. In two years Alex had built something more secure than he had in the three years in Roswell.

“Well any friend of yours, Alex, is one of mine,” Dennis greeted, turning his head to avoid an excited dog kiss before transferring the bundle of fur into Alex’s arms in a fluid movement of trust. “I’m Dennis, welcome to Nashville, um-?” he prompted, extending his left hand to Michael.

“Michael Guerin,” he answered politely, before Michael lifted his left hand awkwardly from his pocket and offered his right in return. His name didn’t alter the warm smile on Dennis’s face. Ah. So he must be a nameless ex for Alex then. Swallowing hard, Michael continued, this time a little meanly, “this hand doesn’t shake so well after I got on the wrong side of a hammer, sorry. But good to meet you.”

The stutter of the clumsy interaction hid Alex’s wince and flash of pain of the reminder.

Feeling no joy from that, Michael picked up the conversation lightly, “I’m a friend from high school. Been doing some transport work, and a job sent me here to pick up a car to drive back to Roswell, so I thought I might stop in and see what the famous Alex Manes is up to…”

“I’m not famous, I just write the words,” Alex protested quietly, before backing away from the doorway. “We were just about to have lunch, if you want to stay-”

“He’s famous, don’t listen to him,” Dennis interjected proudly. “Did you hear that new song from Paramore? Alex wrote that.”

“Oh I know, I have all the singles Alex wrote,” Michael smiled, looking around the house and at the couple with another deep breath. “I’m his biggest fan, I think. But um, thank you, I can’t stay, I gotta hit the road back to-” he started to say home, but that hadn’t been true for a long time. “Back to Roswell.”

***

Hours later with his heart heavy, Michael checked into his room at the Super 8. Normally the expense would have bothered him, but after his day, he figured he was entitled to a little bit of spoiling. And if it was sad that plain wrapped soaps and tiny shampoo bottles constituted spoiling, well, he was content with that.

The clunky black case of his small portable DVD player was propped open on the hotel bed. It was a hand-me-down as technology and electronic gadgets moved into smoother, more versatile means. For him, it was perfect to watch a borrowed DVD in his Airstream since he lacked cable.

With the entire contents of a motel conditioner in his hair, Michael started the paused video file. The shaky dark footage started playing, the sound crackling with amateur hands, before the clear, strong voice of Alex Manes filled the air.

It was probably pathetic to watch this cribbed footage from YouTube, but the romanticism that fueled his journey down 1-40 was also the same sentiment that preserved this moment in amber for Michael. Pulling open his old notebook from high school, he let Alex’s voice singing about love and loss carry him through the calculations of point atmospheric entry and the parallax distance of habitable stars.

It would be a hard journey, but Michael didn’t know any other kind at this point. Roswell wasn’t his home. Nashville wasn’t going to be home either, but the universe was ever-expanding, surely there was a place for Michael?

#mgweek20 #guerinweek20 #malex fic #the lost decade #au after the shed #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #Malex #angst here but eventual happy ending #will it show up in the tags?#no one knows certainly not me

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blightarts · 3 years

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Blades of Order & Chaos

Chapter Title: 9 - Hollow Light

Previous Chapter: Rival

Word Count: 4202

Disclaimer: All rights belong to Pixelberry. This is my version for the upcoming sequel of Blades of Light & Shadow. I am not claiming this to be the canon story of the book. This is only written to increase the hype for the actual sequel.

MC/Pairing: Kite (Blue Elf Male MC) / Kite x Nia

Taglist: @princessstellaris @mechaspirit @brightningstar @cal-north @lxdy-starfury @tyrils-star @imturaxamara @kelseaaa

After a battle with their former adversary, Aerin Valleros, the party returns to the Vishanti Kingdom, in order to procure drakes and fly towards Nia’s last known location. Kade and Threep curiously look at Kite.

Kade: Are you sure it’s okay to let Aerin go rather than hold him captive?

Threep: I understand your mercy towards him, but he could tell the Empire about our location.

Kite: I may not recall the memories I have with Aerin yet, but with what I know about him now, after all he’s went through, I strongly believe that he will not sell us out.

Kade: Well, I hope you’re right.

Bella leads the party to the drake stables.

Bella: Here we are.

She points to a drake, happily hopping while looking at Kite.

Bella: Is that the drake you took to get here?

Kite smiles and waves at the drake.

Kite: Yeah, it is.

Kite and Kade mount the drake that they received from Adrina a year ago, while Bella rents hers from a drake mount salesman and mounts it. Kite pats his mount before looking at his friends.

Kite: Are you guys ready?

The rest of the party nod at Kite then he nods back.

Kite: Let’s go save Nia.

Threep peeks from behind him.

Threep: And Loola!

The party takes off to the sky and heads southwest, towards the mountains near Morella’s northern borders. Kite wonders to himself how he will face Nia, knowing that he will not recognize her despite their history as a couple. Kade notices this.

Kade: Are you sure you’re up for this?

Kite: I’m trying my best to remember her but my mind is just… completely empty.

Kade: You don’t have to force yourself. Even if your mind forgot, your heart will always remember her.

Kade taps Kite’s back.

Kade: Listen to this, instead of this.

He then taps the back of his brother’s head. Kite smiles, thanks to Kade’s reassurance.

Kite: Thanks.

Kade: No problem.

After a few minutes of soaring through the air, something begins to resonate inside Kite’s satchel.

Kite: Was that the orb?

Kade takes out the Orb of Seeking from the satchel and nods.

Kade: Yeah, we’re getting close.

As the party descends closer to the mountainside, the orb resonates more and more.

Threep: Point the orb towards the snow. We can find them easier that way.

Kade does what Threep instructed him to do and soon, the orb begins to tremble. Kade panics and accidentally drops the orb.

Kade: No!

The orb plummets but luckily lands on the snow, but as soon as it did, it glows brightly, signaling the group that Nia is beneath the snow the orb is on. Bella points to it.

Bella: Over there!

Threep: We’ve found them, at last!

Kite raises one of his hands up, conjuring a ball of Cleansing Fire. Kade looks at him with concern.

Kade: Umm… are you sure about this? You might end up destroying the orb and hurting the two.

Kite: It’s fine. The orb has done its job and it might be disadvantageous for us if the Empire gets their hands on it. Plus, if Nia and Loola been buried under the snow for about a year without needing to sustain themselves with food or water, they might be frozen in ice. The snow will melt upon impact and the cold will kill the flames.

Threep: Smart.

Kite hurls the fireball towards where the Orb of Seeking landed, destroying the orb in the process but melting away the snow around it, just as he predicted. As the steam clears, the party spots something crystalline buried beneath the snow.

Kade: There! That must be them!

The party orders their drakes to descend on the area. After they land, they gather around the buried ice chunk. Kite unsheathes the Mirror Claymore and conjures another ball of Cleansing Fire. He slams the fireball on the claymore, imbuing it with fire magic. With his weapon ignited, Kite plunges it in the snow near the ice chunk, melting it until the entire chunk is uncovered, revealing Nia and Loola, frozen in suspended animation.

Kade: Nia…

Threep: Loola!

Upon seeing his beloved, Kite’s heart begins to beat fast, much to his confusion as he clutches his chest. Unfortunately, he cannot recognize her at all. He placed a hand on the ice chunk.

Kite: So, you’re Nia… I… I’m sorry…

He lifts up the Mirror Claymore over his shoulder, ready to swing it.

Bella: Uh… what are you doing?

Kite: Undoing the freezing spell.

Kite swings the claymore at the chunk.

TINK!!

And as soon as he did, the Mirror Claymore absorbs the magical cryo-energy present within the ice chunk, causing it to melt away and mists of cold air to expel at its top. The claymore is imbued with ice magic while Nia and Loola are freed from their ice prison.

Nia: Hrrmm…?

Loola: Mrrooww…

The two collapse from exhaustion after staying in suspended animation for so long. Kite, Kade and Threep immediately rush to their aid. Kite holds Nia in his arms while Kade catches a slowly descending Loola in his.

Kite: It’s okay. I got you.

Threep: Loola? It is me, Pompedorfin.

Nia and Loola slowly open their eyes as their faded visions begin to clear. The priestess sees her beloved and reaches to caress his cheek.

Nia: K-Kite…

In the moment her hand makes contact with Kite’s cheek, he is struck by a vision. A flash of light brings him to the past where he finds himself in the center of a small village near the town of Riverbend. Kite looks around, noticing that the place seemed familiar to him.

Kite: Where am I? Why does it seem like I’ve been here before?

He walks around the village until he sees his younger self, sprinting towards a group of kids.

Kite: It’s me. This must be my childhood home.

Kite jogs after his younger self, witnessing him pushing away the kids from a little girl.

Young Kite: Hey! Will you stop picking on her?!

The kids step back from the young Kite and the little girl, who has a similar appearance to Nia. The older Kite widens his eyes.

Kite: Nia…?

The kids stick their tongues out at the young Kite and Nia.

Kid 1: Fine! You weirdo love birds go have your own fun!

Kid 2: Witches!

They disperse, leaving the two alone. Young Kite offers his hand to young Nia.

Young Kite: Are you okay?

Young Nia nods and takes the little elf’s hand. The vision ends and Kite’s consciousness is pulled back into the present as if nothing happened. His expression became disoriented as he tries to process what he just saw. Nia calls for his attention once more while Kade worryingly watches them.

Nia: Kite…? What’s wrong…?

Loola turns to Threep.

Loola: What happened to Kite?

Threep frowns before reluctantly whispering to Loola what happened in the past year. Loola’s eyes widen before turning to Nia.

Loola: Oh no…

Kade approaches Nia and places a hand on her shoulder.

Kade: Nia…

Kite and Nia turn to Kade. Kite then looks away in shame while Nia looks at Kade concerningly.

Kade: Kite is… He has… amnesia…

Kade looks down, gritting his teeth. Nia remains speechless as she looks at Kite, who is averting her gaze.

Nia: Kite, you… don’t remember me…?

Kite nods.

Kite: I’m… sorry…

Nia looks down in misery as she rests her head on Kite’s chest, in attempt to feel his warmth and cope with the information that was just relayed to her. Her eyes widen as she felt his heart beating quickly, telling her that, despite his memory loss, his heart never forgot her, which meant that his love for her is still there.

Nia: You… don’t have to be sorry, Kite…

Kite turns to Nia in surprise and confusion while she is in tears.

Nia: I still love you… and I know you still love me too… even if you don’t recognize me…

Nia buries her face on Kite’s chest, clutching him close. The elf returns the embrace and gently strokes her hair.

Kite: I will get back what I’ve lost. That, I promise you.

Nia nods while breaking down. Kade and the nespers join in on the embrace as Bella watches them, feeling misery and remembering the friends that she once held dear but lost in the Shadow War prior to receiving her deity status.

Voice: Well, well, isn’t this a lovely reunion?

The party suddenly freezes and their eyes snap open in shock as they recognize the voice addressing them. They turn to the source and see…

Sir Laundsellyn: Don’t you think, Daedalus?

Sir Laundsellyn turns to Daedalus with a smirk. The birdman ignores him and glares at Kite.

Daedalus: Unhand her. I should have ended you when I had the chance.

Kade, Threep and Loola grit their teeth.

Kade: That Aerin! He sold us out!

Sir Laundsellyn: Oh, no no no, my dear boy. He did not sell you out. I just happened to pass by and watched you two duke it out emotionally and boringly, I might add.

Sir Laundsellyn then squints at Bella and recognizes her.

Sir Laundsellyn: Bella Invikta? Is that you? How long has it been?! Thousands of years?! Come on, let’s catch up!

Bella tightens her grip on her warhammer and casts Lion’s Pride before leaping up in an attempt to bash Laundsellyn.

Bella: YOU MURDERER!!

The shadow knight leans back, avoiding the attack.

Sir Laundsellyn: Woah, woah, woah!

Daedalus dives in swiftly towards the party. Kade tries to pull out his flintlock pistol, but the birdman was too quick. Daedalus grabs Kite by the neck, prompting the latter to let go of Nia, who safely lands on the snow.

Kade: Kite!

Threep: He can handle himself! We have to get Nia out of here!

Kade hesitantly rushes to Nia’s aid and carries her on his back. Meanwhile, Daedalus glides across the snow field while still strangling Kite.

Daedalus: Haven’t you learned your lesson after almost losing your life?!

Kite struggles to speak but still gets his word across.

Kite: I… don’t even… know… who you… are…!

Before Daedalus could respond, Kite reaches for the Mirror Claymore, still imbued with ice magic, and swings it at the birdman, freezing him instantly. The frozen Daedalus falls on snow, while Kite is launched a few meters away due to inertia.

Kite: Ugh… what’s this guy’s deal?

Kite plunges the Mirror Claymore on the snow before equipping the Gauntlet of Pain. He dashes forward and clobbers Daedalus on the face, shattering him from his frozen status and dealing a large amount of damage. The birdman is sent flying back before sliding across the snow. Kite returns to the Mirror Claymore and pulls it from the snow. Daedalus stands up in anger.

Daedalus: You’ve gotten stronger… but…!

Daedalus begins channeling magical energy throughout his wings as they spread. Kite casts Lion’s Pride in caution as Daedalus’s feathers harden.

Daedalus: Wind Magic: Thousand Arrows!

Daedalus flaps his large metallic wings forward, hurling multiple hardened arrows, imbued with wind magic towards Kite, who attempts to block and absorb the attack with the Mirror Claymore.

Kite: Nngh!...

Kite suffers a few minor cuts but is successful with his plan as the Mirror Claymore is now imbued with wind magic, irritating Daedalus.

Daedalus: Tch!

Daedalus begins to cast Thousand Arrows once more, but Kite quickly spins around, while holding the Mirror Claymore out, and slings a small tornado at his opponent using the wind magic imbued within the Claymore. The tornado makes its way swiftly towards the birdman, catching him off-guard as he uses his wings as a shield.

Daedalus: Shit!

The tornado continues to chip away Daedalus’s metallic wings, like they’re being slashed by a thousand blades. Using this chance, Kite charges forward and casts a ball of Cleansing Fire before slamming it onto the Mirror Claymore, imbuing it with fire magic. This is the first time that Kite has ever had an almost equal chance against one of the Empire’s lieutenants. Daedalus feels insulted by this.

Daedalus: How dare you treat me like I’m the weakest among the lieutenants?!

Daedalus snaps his wings open, spreading them wide and blowing away Kite with the gust created. The two clash, parrying each other’s attacks, unable to deal any sort of damage to each other.

Meanwhile, Bella and Laundsellyn are still dueling, just a few meters away from Kite and Daedalus. Bella recklessly swings her warhammer at Laundsellyn, who yawns while either blocking or evading the goddess’s attacks.

Sir Laundsellyn: Have you gone rusty throughout the years?

Bella: Silence!

Bella slams her warhammer down, but Laundsellyn just sidesteps as the head of the warhammer misses and shatters the ground. Laundsellyn looks at her with pity.

Sir Laundsellyn: You do realize that it’s not mine nor the Shadow Court’s fault. It’s solely yours why your friend, Merilyn, died.

Bella snaps at the mention of the name and swings her warhammer upwards, like one does to a golf club. Of course, Laundsellyn easily evades it.

Bella: You have no right to say her name!

She clutches her chest.

Bella: She was more than just a friend to me!

Laundsellyn pretends to gag at what Bella said.

Sir Laundsellyn: Ugh… love. That sounds sickening. Anyways, I’m out of time. I have some more important things to do.

Bella: You’re not going anywhere!

Laundsellyn shrugs.

Sir Laundsellyn: Oh, I’m not going anywhere at all. You are.

Bella: Huh?!

Suddenly, a duplicate of the Blade of Shadow, created by Laundsellyn’s Relinquished spell, drops from the sky and plunges itself on the snow, just right in front of Bella. The Blade then opens a portal to the Shadow Realm right below the goddess, causing her to fall inside.

Bella: You basta—

Bella is cut off as the portal closes. Somewhere, outside of Dunbar Forest, another portal to the Shadow Realm opens up above the trees and Bella falls from it. She lands on the ground like a meteor and struggles to get up from the fall, but her rage is still present.

Bella: DAMN YOU, LAUNDSELLYN!!!

(Author’s Note: Bella has not yet left the party. She will reunite with them later in this chapter.)

Back in the mountainside battlefield, Laundsellyn commends himself before turning to Kade, who is running away with Nia still on his back.

Sir Laundsellyn: Now, for the task at hand.

Kade pants, trying to catch his breath.

Kade: I can’t stop now… I have… to get… Nia… away… from here…!

He looks around frantically.

Kade: Where are the drakes?!

Threep: They must have been scared off or dealt with before Laundsellyn or Daedalus intervened.

Kade: Damn it…

Suddenly, a portal opens up in front of Kade, prompting him to stop.

Kade: Shit!

Laundsellyn steps out with a devilish smirk.

Sir Laundsellyn: Hello.

He presses his finger on Kade’s chest and begins to cast a spell.

Sir Laundsellyn: Chaos Magic: Rejection Pulse.

Kade, Nia and the nespers are blown away by a shockwave infused of Light and Shadow magic. Laundsellyn then dashes forward and grabs Nia by the neck while Kade and the nespers collapse on the snow. The bard reaches his hand out in pain.

Kade: N-Nia…! No…!

Laundsellyn smirks once more as he begins to cast another spell.

Sir Laundsellyn: Shadow Magic: Mana Drain.

The spell then sucks out Nia’s mana causing her to scream in agony as it felt like being tased continuously.

Nia: AAAAAAAAAHH!!

Kade: STOP!!!

Threep turns to Loola.

Threep: Loola, do something!

Loola: I… I can’t… Being frozen for so long has taken a toll on me and Nia… We can’t use our magic for a while… I’m… sorry…

The nespers watch in despair while Kade struggles to crawl towards Laundsellyn and Nia.

Meanwhile, just a few meters away, Kite and Daedalus are still dueling, but their heads turn to each other’s allies upon hearing the screams of Nia and Kade. Their eyes widen in shock seeing the woman they love being strangled by Laundsellyn. Daedalus immediately loses his attention on Kite and jets towards his fellow lieutenant.

Daedalus: LAUNDSELLYN, YOU BASTARD!!

Laundsellyn turns to Daedalus with a grin as the former finishes sucking all of Nia’s mana, rendering her the ability to use any kind of magic. The shadow knight lets the Priestess go as she collapses on the snow, unconscious. Laundsellyn then uses the Blade of Shadow to parry Daedalus’s incoming attack.

Daedalus: You are dead to me!

The birdman goes in for another attack, but…

Sir Laundsellyn: Chaos Magic: Rejection Pulse!

…he is blown back by the spell’s shockwave.

Sir Laundsellyn: Lighten up, will ya, Daedalus?!

Daedalus composes himself in midair and swoops down swiftly once more towards Laundsellyn, who uses the Blade of Shadow once more to open up a portal to the Shadow Realm between them, causing Daedalus to enter it by accident. Laundsellyn then quickly closes it before turning to Kite, who is running towards the former with determined rage instead of the blind rage displayed by Bella and Daedalus earlier.

Sir Laundsellyn: That’s right. Keep ‘em coming.

Kite, wielding his fire-imbued Mirror Claymore, and Laundsellyn, wielding the Blade of Shadows, have a duel with Laundsellyn getting the advantage, providing more cut wounds to Kite, who is struggling.

Meanwhile, Kade gently shakes Nia in his arms, in an attempt to wake her. He can feel her pulse from her neck, meaning that she is still alive at the very least. Loola tries to help as well while Threep just watches Kite and Laundsellyn’s duel, with misery in his eyes.

Threep: Am I… gonna lose my family once again…?

Threep recalls his younger years, when he was still the nesper and most trusted advisor of House Nightbloom, with Estel, Kite’s mother, being his closest friend. He breaks down into tears, feeling that he has failed her.

Threep: I’ve failed you… Estel… I could not protect you then… and I cannot protect your own son now… I’m sorry…

His mind travels to a memory from very long ago, where he would sit around the balcony, watching other nespers fly around and play using their magic. At the time, he was envious as he was the only nesper incapable of using magic. Estel sits beside him and asks…

Estel: Aren’t you gonna play with them, Pompy?

Past Threep: I doubt they would even let me. I am and will always be incapable of magic. It is like I am an outcast to them.

Estel holds Threep in her arms and strokes his fur, causing him to purr.

Estel: Just because you can’t use magic doesn’t make you any different than anyone else. Everyone is special in their own way, that is why you are our top advisor and my closest friend.

Past Threep: You flatter me, Estel, however, that does not disprove my point.

Estel: Magic doesn’t just come to us anytime we want it to. But I believe that it is guaranteed to come to you when the conditions are met.

Past Threep: And what conditions might those be?

Estel: When one has the will to protect those they love by giving it all they have.

Upon remembering Estel’s words, Threep is snapped back into the present reality as his eyes open wide with determination to protect his friends, especially Kite.

Threep: I…

Magical aura begins to surge through Threep while the ground around him shakes. Everyone turns towards him in surprise.

Kade: Threep…?

Loola: A-Are you…?!

Sir Laundsellyn: Tch!

Obsidian shards begin to pop out of the ground and hover around Threep as he floats to the air. He glares at Laundsellyn.

Threep: I will protect my friends!

Threep dashes towards Laundsellyn and casts his spell.

Threep: Earth Magic: Obsidian Starstorm!

Threep hurls the obsidian shards at Laundsellyn, causing the latter to parry the attacks, distracting him. Annoyed, Laundsellyn turns to the nesper, who is now beside Kite. Threep crosses his front legs like how one crosses his arms.

Threep: I will have order!

The nesper swings his paw down, causing the ground beneath Laundsellyn to shake before a large obsidian spike shoots up from it. Laundsellyn leaps back but a cut appears on his face. The wound bleeds slightly as the shadow knight glares at Threep.

Sir Laundsellyn: Fine. You win this round, Pompedorfin.

He points the Blade of Shadow towards the nesper.

Sir Laundsellyn: But I will return. And I’ll make sure that you shall meet the same fate Estel did, very soon!

Laundsellyn opens a portal to the Shadow Realm and retreats. Kite collapses on his knees, tired from all the fighting he’s done since the match against the King of the Vishanti. Threep comes to his aid.

Threep: Are you okay, Kite?

Kite: Yeah, just… worn out…

The elf smiles at the nesper.

Kite: Thank you, Threep.

Threep nods with a smile.

Threep: Estel would have been proud, seeing our growth today.

Kite nods back, but their celebration is cut short as Kade approaches them, carrying an unconscious Nia on his back while Loola walks beside him. Kite and Threep turn to them, worried.

Threep: How is she…?

Loola: Bad… Her mana was drained.

Kite: What do you mean…?

Kade: I think… she can’t use magic anymore…

Bella runs up from behind Kade, still fueled with anger. With Lion’s Pride still active, she ran from where she was teleported to by Laundsellyn to where the party is.

Bella: Where is he?! Where’s Laundsellyn?!

The goddess looks at the defeated expression present in everyone’s faces. She slowly lowers her hands with rage finally venting off of her.

Bella: We lost, didn’t we…?

Kite nods and struggles to stand up. Bella comes to his aid and supports him.

Kite: Thanks.

He looks to his friends.

Kite: Where do we go next?

Threep: I would suggest find the rest of our friends, but after what we have been through, I suppose we deserve a rest.

Bella nods.

Bella: I know a place from here. Follow me.

Bella leads the way, helping Kite walk, while the rest of the party follow. Eventually, they all spot their drakes. Kite, using his skills as a beastmaster, waves his hand in the air, signaling the drakes to swoop down and pick them up. As the party mounts the drakes, they head east.

Nia has joined the party.

Loola has joined the party.

Meanwhile, inside the Shadow Court’s castle, Daedalus confronts Laundsellyn, pointing his sharp wings at him.

Daedalus: What the hell were you doing, Laundsellyn?! I told you never to harm my beloved Priestess again ever since you ruthlessly murdered her during your era!

Laundsellyn rolls his eyes.

Sir Laundsellyn: Relax. I just took her mana. I didn’t exactly kill her.

Daedalus: You had gripped her neck and made her unconscious!

Sir Laundsellyn: …Touché. Besides, it wasn’t my idea. It was his.

Laundsellyn points to an old man, dressed in white and gold robes, across the room. Daedalus turns to the old man and his temper rises further as he approaches him with murderous intent.

Daedalus: Solerne!

The former High Priest of Whitetower’s Temple of Light, Solerne, drops to his knees and bows his head towards Daedalus.

Solerne: F-Forgive me, Great Daedalus…! I—

Solerne is interrupted with Daedalus grabbing his neck and holding up high.

Daedalus: Explain yourself.

Solerne struggles to do so.

Solerne: I… I believe… hrrk… that it would… be advantageous for us… t-to… hrrk… bribe the Great Priestess… with her mana… in order to… not only give our enemies a… disadvantage but… to also get her to… come to us… in order to get her power back…

Solerne coughs while Daedalus raises his eyebrow in curiosity.

Daedalus: So, you are suggesting we bribe Nia her powers in order for her to come to me?

The former High Priest nods in pain.

Solerne: I would… never betray you… I am a proud to serve you… and call myself… the archbishop of… your cult…

Daedalus squints and lets Solerne go.

Daedalus: Alright, Solerene. You get to live… for now.

Voice: Enough.

A sudden pressure enters the room as everyone turns towards Ignis. Daedalus and Solerne crouch and bow their heads to him while Laundsellyn just crosses his arms.

Daedalus: My Lord.

Solerne: L-L-Lord Ignis…!

Ignis looks at his two lieutenants with disgust.

Ignis: I am utterly disappointed in the both of you. I simply requested you to abduct Kite while rendering his allies useless and yet you only managed to do the second task… on his beloved Priestess, nonetheless.

Ignis turns away to return to his new experiments but stops to add one final scolding.

Ignis: I expect proper cooperation between the two of you, or else, severe punishment shall be given.

Daedalus: Yes, my Lord.

Laundsellyn rolls his eyes.

Sir Laundsellyn: Alright, fine.

Ignis leaves the room as Daedalus stands up and glares at Laundsellyn. The shadow knight just shrugs and walks away. He passes by Aerin and pats his shoulder.

Sir Laundsellyn: You did well, kid. You led me right into them. I knew you’d pull through.

Aerin grits his teeth and clenches his fists, concerned about the safety of Kite and his friends.

Aerin: What have I done…?

————— END OF CHAPTER —————

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werewolfdays · 4 years

Text

first impressions

We’re gonna backtrack in their timeline a bit. Just have the normal Bring Your Werewolf Girlfriend To Meet The Family stuff. Yeah, totally normal. (CONTENT WARNING: abuse mention) -

We sat in our car, parked in front of the strange house, and I silently stared out of my window to regard it. Nothing about it looked particularly sinister or out of place in the slightest, it was simply another house on the street. There were two stories, a welcoming shade of sky blue with a white trim, the small lawn was perfectly green and mowed. If I had searched for stock photos of a suburban home on the internet, there would be countless versions of this house plastered all over my laptop screen. The entire image was meant to be calming and inviting. But this was the place where Nadya grew up. Where she spent most of her childhood in fear of her brother with no one else besides clueless parents to protect her. I hated this house. And we were about to spend the entire weekend in it.

I gripped the steering wheel in a white knuckled grasp for an entirely different reason than my loathing of the building. My jaw clenched as I prepared for what was about to come. Without turning to look at Nadya, I spoke, “You’re sure about this?”

“I have to do this, Jay.” Nadya answered.

“You don’t.”

“They’re my parents,” Her tone wasn’t as sure as the words she was speaking, “If I don’t at least try... then I know I’ll regret it.”

I finally turned to look at her beside me in the passenger seat. Nadya’s expression matched the apprehension and dread I sensed coming off of her, but she still managed to look determined. Her eyes implored me to trust her. Of course I would trust her no matter what. I also found it endearing that she was willing to put in this much effort to reconnect with her parents, even if I was certain that they didn’t deserve a daughter like her.

“Okay.” I relented with an exhale and threw a wary glance at the house again.

“Are you nervous?” Nadya asked curiously.

My gaze shot back to her with a frown. “No.”

She raised an eyebrow at me, not fooled by that lie in the slightest, “You are.”

“You’re nervous, so I’m nervous.” I deflected.

While that wasn’t a completely untrue statement, she still saw through it. Nadya studied my face for a few short moments before an understanding dawned on her, “You’re scared to meet them.”

I broke eye contact and focused back on the steering wheel, releasing another sigh, “Well, like you said, they’re your parents… a part of me still wants them to like me.”

Nadya’s hand reached out and wrapped around my wrist, gently pulling my hand away from the steering wheel and up to her lips where she placed a kiss to the back of it. My eyes locked on to hers yet again while her lips began to caress my knuckles and I felt my muscles slowly relax. I would miss being so candidly affectionate with her while we were here. I knew it would only be for the weekend, but I was already dreading having to keep my urges to touch her and kiss her whenever I wanted in check.

“I’m sure they’ll like you.” Nadya offered.

I gave her a grateful smile, “Maybe they’ll like me as your friend.”

She lowered my hand to cradle against her chest and pursed her lips, “I guess we’ll find out on Sunday…”

I sensed her anxiety spike at that sentence and it made both me and my wolf restless. Nadya truly didn’t have any clue how her parents would react to them knowing that she was a lesbian, that her and I were together, but she was adamant about telling them before we left. Until then, I couldn’t give anything away about her or us.

“Think you can pretend that you aren’t in love with me for a few days?” She asked with a small sly smile.

My head tilted to the side, resting on the seat of the car, and I continued to gaze at her. It was always far too easy to get lost in those warm brown eyes of hers, especially when they caught a single ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds like they were right now, “I hope so. I’ll try my best, at least.”

Her sly smile grew into a full grin, her cheeks flushing, “Maybe start by not looking at me like that.”

I felt my face grow hot, as I hadn’t noticed I was doing it, and I forced myself to look away. Then I realized this moment in the car with her would be the last place where we wouldn’t have to hide until the weekend was over. Like a magnet, my eyes found hers again, soaking up every bit of her that they could without apology, making sure I had enough of her memorized to keep myself satiated for a few days. There was just one more thing I needed to get me through it.

“I probably shouldn’t kiss you like this either,” I muttered as I leaned in.

The sensation of Nadya’s softness against my mouth seemed to slow time itself around us. My senses zeroed in on her, the rest of the world dimming like a dying fire, turning into an unimportant muffled buzz at the back of my mind. Her taste and her warmth pulled me in, pulled me closer to her as my hand reached up to tangle in her hair. The rhythmic thumping of her heart skipped a few beats and her lips parted mine in a silent plea for more. I was eager to give her whatever she wanted while also indulging in what every instinct inside of me was aching for.

Our passion was just as easy to get lost in as staring into her eyes. Maybe even more because soon it wasn’t just my surroundings that became forgotten, it was our reason for being here. If it were up to me, we would stay in this car until we had to break away for breath, then I would drive us far away from here where Nadya wouldn’t have to worry about a family that didn’t love her like my pack and I could.

But I knew that’s not what Nadya wanted. Not yet at least. So I had to be the one to pull away from her and bring her back from the intoxication that was consuming the both of us. She tried to follow my retreating lips and I couldn’t resist giving her one more soft peck before severing all contact.

Nadya blinked at me a few times to shake herself out of it. Her fingertips touched her own lips with a small smile, almost like she could still feel mine, “Yeah… probably not like that.” she uttered breathlessly.

I couldn’t hold back a crooked grin, “You think you will be able to pretend you aren’t in love with me for a few days?”

She released a quiet scoff and lowered her hand, “I can’t make any promises.”

I noticed her eyes kept shifting down to my mouth like she was fighting the urge to kiss me again. I leaned further away from her in the hopes of lessening the temptation. As much as I wanted to tease her, this would not be the place for it, “Are you ready?”

Nadya took in a very deep breath, holding it for several beats, and then releasing it in a sigh that nearly trembled, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Okay,” My hand squeezed hers in encouragement, silently promising that this wouldn’t be our last touch this weekend. I would find ways to remind her I was by her side, even if I had to sneak affection like some love-struck idiot teenager, “Let’s go.”

We got out of the car and I went to the trunk to retrieve our bags. A part of me hesitated to grab my duffle once I slung Nadya’s pack over my shoulder. I was fairly certain I wouldn’t need it, and if I got caught with it somehow, that would result in a completely different level of awkwardness, but I would feel too vulnerable without something. I did a quick glance over my surroundings, making sure there were no witnesses, and then opened the secret compartment in the trunk to pull out a handgun. After subtly checking the loaded chamber and making sure the safety was on, I slipped it into my bag and buried it in my belongings.

I looked up as I was rearranging things to see Nadya come into view. She looked into the trunk when I zipped the bag up and met my eyes again in a way that confirmed she knew exactly what I had been doing. I offered an apologetic wince, but didn’t remove the gun. Nadya didn’t say anything despite her disapproving expression. A part of me wanted to put the gun back, I really didn’t want to bring a weapon like that into her parents’ home, but I hadn’t survived this many years being hunted without being a little paranoid. I suspected Nadya understood that, which was why she kept quiet.

“It’s just in case. I don’t plan on using it.” I explained.

“I know.” She said with a simple nod, then gestured for me to follow her, “Come on.”

With the duffle’s straps in my hand, I pulled it out and shut the trunk. Every step closer to the house made my nerves prickle under my skin, almost as if my wolf wanted to protect both me and Nadya from the people inside. I had to remind myself that her brother was thousands of miles away, deployed overseas. With any luck, he’d get blown to bits and I wouldn’t have to worry about doing it myself one day.

Nadya didn’t bother knocking on the front door of the house. I suppose it was her house after all, but I was slightly thrown that I wouldn’t have the few moments to prepare myself that waiting for her parents to answer would have given me. She noticed my hesitation at the threshold and offered an encouraging smile.

“You’re gonna do great.” She promised quietly, briefly grabbing my wrist to pull me inside.

“Sure…” I mumbled under my breath.

“Mom? Dad?” Nadya called into the house, “We’re here!”

Towards the back of the house, I heard a running faucet suddenly shut off. The kitchen, I suspected. Then I heard someone else stir from a separate room, perhaps an office, soon followed by two sets of footsteps approaching us in the living room.

I cautioned a glance around, appreciating the fireplace and how surprisingly warm the atmosphere in the home was. A collection of picture frames rested on the mantle and I caught a glimpse of a much younger looking Nadya in one of the photos. I smiled to myself as my eyes lingered there, but it quickly faded when I saw Ruben standing next to her. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen in the picture, but I still wanted to tear his throat out. I forced myself to look away and took a deep breath to snuff out my short rush of fury.

A middle aged man, Nadya’s father, arrived first. The lines on his face that framed light blue eyes seemed to give him a permanent stern glower, even his grin did little to soften it, and his teeth were so perfect and white that it would put the Kincades’ flawless smiles to shame. His light brown hair, that was more salt and pepper at the sides, was gelled and styled almost formally, and he wore a button-up shirt as white as his teeth tucked into khaki slacks. Even the way he carried himself was professional.

He noted my presence, giving me a quick once-over and sizing me up. It wasn’t a very welcoming feeling to be scrutinized on the spot, but I stood my ground and allowed him to inspect the stranger in his home that was accompanying his daughter.

“Hey, dad.” Nadya greeted, pulling his attention away from me.

I watched Nadya’s father inspect her in almost the same manner as he had inspected me. Then I realized it had to be a long time since they’ve seen each other. Maybe it’s even been years.

He gave her another smile and a nod, “Good to see you, sweetie.”

It puzzled me when there was no attempt at an embrace. I hardly expected anything over the top, but there was a noticeable awkwardness between parent and child that I’ve never witnessed before, and certainly never experienced myself. My father would have wrapped me in a big hug as soon as he saw me, called me ‘pup’, and kissed the top of my head. At first glance, I would have never guessed these two were even related.

Before I was able to dwell on it any further, Nadya’s mother entered the living room. Long black hair, with only a few streaks of gray here and there, fell smoothly down her shoulders and to the woman’s mid back. Her eyes were the same warm brown as Nadya’s were and her skin tone was several shades lighter than that, but still noticeably darker than the fair skin of the father. It took me a moment to place the woman as a Native American.

Nadya shared more facial features with her mother than her father. The eye color, of course, but also the nose and cheekbones. Nadya’s mother also had a natural softness in her expression, just like her daughter did, one that made me more at ease in the strange home.

The reunion between mother and daughter was warmer than with her father, “Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally home.” Nadya’s mother cooed with a smile, grabbing her daughter’s hands and leaning in to place a kiss on her cheek.

“Me too, mom.” Nadya said. Her muscles were still tense, but I watched her relax a fraction under the comfort from her mother. Then Nadya turned to me, “This is my friend, Jayde.”

The word friend made me cringe internally, and I could hear a subtle fluctuation in Nadya’s voice when she spoke it that told me she didn’t like it any more than I did, but I still stepped forward and offered my hand, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

Her mother shook my hand first, “Nice to meet you too, I’m Winona.”

“Richard.” Her father said next, giving me an almost delicate handshake. Feeling a little offended that he held back, I squeezed his hand firmly and watched his brow perk up a centimeter.

A tiny bit of rebelliousness didn’t stop me from being polite and pleasant, “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

“Please, it’s our pleasure.” Winona replied, then noticed the bags I was holding, “Here, I’ll show you where you can put your things.”

Nadya reached for her bag, I handed it to her and followed Winona towards the stairs. Nadya followed close behind me, but Richard remained in the living room. I felt his eyes on me through my entire ascent up the stairs and had to resist the urge to throw him a scowl. He was very unsure of me. Maybe it was my appearance that threw him off. I was a bit rough around the edges, even cleaning up couldn’t hide the scars and my unintentionally intimidating resting expression. If I had done something to deserve it, I could let it go, but I’d hardly done anything to arouse suspicion or mistrust yet, so I was a little annoyed.

“You can stay in Ruben’s room while you’re here.” Winona told me once we reached the top of the stairs.

I should have expected that, but the sentence made my stomach drop and the rest of my body recoil in utter disgust beyond my control. I tried to recover when Winona looked over at me, “Oh, that’s okay, I can sleep on the couch just fine.”

“No, you’re a guest here.” Winona insisted. She saw that I was about to argue further and put a hand up, “He hasn’t been home in a long time, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Jayde can take my room and I can take Ruben’s.” Nadya offered.

“No.” I replied, probably too quickly and too firmly. Both Nadya and her mother looked a little taken aback by my intensity. I forced an easy going smile and relented, “I’ll take his room. Thank you.”

Winona brushed my behavior off rather easily, “Or course. Why don’t you two get settled and come downstairs so we can figure out where to go for lunch?”

“We’ll be down in a couple minutes.” Nadya confirmed, “Thanks mom.”

Her mother gave her a smile and squeezed her upper arm as she walked past us to go back down the stairs. As soon as her mother was out of sight, Nadya looked at me with deep regret. She must not have thought they would just offer up her brother’s room so easily, even in his absence. I simply shook my head with a small smile to ease her worry and made my way to the room Winona had motioned towards as Nadya reluctantly disappeared into her own room.

While I have never met Ruben, his stench still made me want to retch. There wasn’t anything objectively bad about it, I suppose, but it was so heavily ingrained into his room and all I could picture was his grin in that photo with Nadya. All I could imagine was that story about her confronting him for the first time in this very room and him nearly strangling her to death because of it. I eyed every wall, thinking, Was that where he shoved her? Where he threatened to take her life?

I did not want to touch a single thing, didn’t even want to set my duffle bag on the neatly made bed. The only thing I could do was stand in the center of the room and silently seethe. After a few long moments of trying to calm myself down, I just dropped my bag on the floor where I was standing, kneeling down to retrieve the weapon I had stashed inside of it.

“I’m sorry.” Nadya suddenly said behind me, causing me to look over my shoulder at her standing in the doorway, “I thought maybe they would let us stay in the same room or something. Guess this isn’t really like a high school sleepover…”

“It’s not your fault, Nadya.” I assured her quietly, focusing back on rifling through my bag, “It’s not like I’m actually gonna sleep in here anyway.”

“Still… you shouldn’t have to be in here.”

I looked behind me at her again, this time in shock. After a couple of confused blinks, I retrieved my gun, tucking it into my waistband to conceal it, and stood, “You shouldn’t have to be in here.” I corrected, walking over to her and gently leading her away from the room with my hand on her back, “You shouldn’t ever have to set foot in that room again.”

“I’m fine, Jay.” Nadya told me.

Surprisingly, her tone didn’t suggest otherwise, “So am I. Don’t worry about me.”

“Says the girl with the gun hidden in her pants.” She countered with a lighthearted grin.

I matched her expression, “Exactly.”

As soon as we arrived back in the living room, Richard spoke up, “Have you ever been to the city, Jayde?”

“You mean San Francisco?” I assumed and he nodded, “I can’t say that I have.”

“Perfect. I know an excellent deem sum place.” He didn’t wait for the others to approve before he retrieved a coat and made his way towards the front door, “Maybe we can even show you around a little afterwards, since you’ve never been.”

“That sounds great.” I agreed amicably, “Should we drive together or separately?”

“Oh, together.” Richard answered, like that should have been the most obvious thing, “You never want to take more than one car into the city if you can help it.”

“That congested, huh?”

“Some days it’s worse.”

“That’s usually why I try to avoid highly populated areas.” Too many people meant too much traffic, too much traffic meant no easy escape routes, no easy escape routes meant capture or death. I usually avoided big cities at all costs for this very reason, but surely I could convincingly act like a human for a few hours with Nadya’s family. I doubted San Francisco will be teeming with hunters.

He chuckled, “Very smart of you.”

I glanced at Nadya while we were walking out the door as if to say, Did you see? I can get along! Her response was an amused, yet encouraging, smile.

Richard owned a very well kept Cadillac. There wasn’t a single scratch on the black paint, its surface so spotless that its reflections were crystal clear, and the interior smelled of fine leather, which was more comforting than I expected it to be. Nadya sat next to me in the back with both her parents in front, making me feel better to be so close to her.

Most of the car ride was spent in a silence that wasn’t exactly comfortable. The closer we got to the cluster of tall buildings in the distance, the more tense my body became. I ran through all kinds of different scenarios, ranging from me completely blowing this entire visit to being jumped by hunters and having to figure out a way to get Nadya and her family to safety. The skyscrapers looming on the approaching horizon was a sight to behold for sure, but all I could see was a death trap.

As I was lost in my own anxious thoughts, I felt the barest brush against my pinky finger. I risked a quick glance at my hand that was resting on the seat in between me and Nadya to see her pinky subtly reaching for mine. When my glance traveled up to her face, she was silently staring out of her window, giving no indication that she was doing such a thing, besides the hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

The small touch was significant in calming my nerves. I wanted nothing more than to take her hand in mine and pull her close, but I settled for sticking my finger out to caress her back in recognition. We were able to stay like that for a while, until we entered the city itself and Richard finally spoke up again, yanking me out of Nadya’s orbit.

“There are lots of amazing places to eat in the city, I have a few favorites to stop by on my lunch breaks, but we only go to this restaurant for special occasions.”

The sound of his voice made me reflexively pull my hand away from Nadya’s, but I was certain he didn’t notice. “You work in the city?”

“Yes, at my family's dentistry.” He answered while navigating the narrow streets, “What do you do for work, Jayde?”

I expected this to be a question, but I still struggled with an answer that wouldn’t give too much away. All of the overwhelming noises of the city outside weren’t helping, “Um, well, I’m a security guard of sorts.”

“A security guard, huh? What do you guard?”

“If I told you that, I’d have to kill you.” I replied humorously in hopes to deflect on the topic and I was relieved to hear some amused laughs.

“Sounds like you’re bound by an NDA.” Richard mused.

“Yeah, something like that.”

“You’re gonna love this place we’re going to, Jay.” Nadya spoke, changing the subject, much to my relief, “The food is so delicious and there’s an amazing waterfall indoors.”

“Yes, it’s the perfect place to bring someone you want to impress.” Winona added, casting a smile over her shoulder at me and Nadya.

Maybe it was mostly meant in jest, but I couldn’t help feeling a little encouraged by it, “Speaking of impressing people, I hope you guys don’t mind me cooking dinner for you tonight.”

“Oh, you cook?” Winona asked excitedly.

“She’s an amazing cook,” Nadya jumped in with the same amount of enthusiasm, “She put together this beautiful dinner for our first- uh, for the first time we hung out together as friends. It was over a campfire and she cooked for everyone that was there. It had to be the best meal I’ve ever had.”

Winona thankfully didn’t seem to catch Nadya stumbling over her words and nearly mentioning our first date. Instead, she looked impressed by her daughter’s praise for my talent, “Wow. In that case, I can’t wait to taste what you have planned for us.”

“I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Richard announced our arrival when the car came to a stop in front of one of the seemingly endless tall buildings in this city. I reluctantly got out of the car and tried not to get vertigo from looking up at the gargantuan structures all around me. The one we were about to enter wasn’t the largest one by far- actually, its size could be deemed modest compared to the others, but it still stretched several stories up, apart from a couple of wings branching off that only appeared to be about five stories.

I hadn’t realized how much the inside of the car shielded me from the cacophony of sounds and smells that assaulted my senses. Car engines, sirens, crowds, all flooded my hearing. There were far too many scents to name, almost all of them terrible enough to taste on my tongue, but I hung on to the ones that didn’t make me want to cover my mouth and nose to avoid gagging. Like the scents of restaurants serving food carrying through the wind. And the comforting scent of Nadya as she inched closer to me.

I met her gaze to see her studying me with a concerned frown. The corners of my mouth perked up to reassure her that I was okay. It was only a little overwhelming. I’d get used to it eventually.

We followed her parents into one of the shorter wings of the center and my line of sight was immediately drawn to the impressive glass ceiling. It rose up as high as the building, letting massive rays of light pour in and reflect off of the spotless tiled floor. It made the entire interior of the building look incredibly open and lively, almost like we were outside and not confined to a space. Then I noticed a square in the glass ceiling that was dropping a waterfall down into the center of everything, a glittering shower that looked enchanting in its own right.

I couldn’t hold back a grin at how beautiful this was. It calmed whatever anxiety was lingering in my head. “Wow…” I mumbled as I continued to stare.

Nadya playfully bumped my shoulder with hers, “Pretty cool, huh?”

“I see why you would bring people here to impress them.” I agreed with a nod.

“Wait until you taste the food.” Richard said with a proud look on his face.

The four of us sat at a table close enough to the waterfall that I could feel the occasional spray of mist on my arm. The food itself was well deserving of all the praise it had been given, every bite was as fulfilling as the last and I soon found my plate becoming empty. Small talk was the only kind of discussion around the table and I was trying my hardest to maintain a pleasant face despite the fact that it was starting to get unbearably tedious. That is, until a particular question from Richard made the remnants of my food suddenly inedible.

“So, Jayde, what does your family do?”

My jaw clenched for a moment as I reached for my glass of water, “My sister is a computer technician.”

“And your parents?” He pressed curiously.

“Dad,” Nadya said in a soft warning tone.

“It’s okay.” I told Nadya and cleared my throat before addressing her father, “They passed a long time ago.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, though he looked slightly embarrassed.

“That’s terrible.” Winona sounded more empathic, her hand coming up to her chest, “What happened?”

“An accident. I was sixteen.” I answered curtly.

Her head shook, “I’m so sorry for your loss, I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

You have no idea, I wanted to say sarcastically, but bit my tongue, “It was hard, but it was also a long time ago.”

“The accident… Is that where…?” Richard pointed at his own face, around the areas where I had scars on mine.

“Some of them, yes.” I answered truthfully.

“Some of them?”

“Jayde was in another accident.” Nadya chimed in quickly, “That’s how we met. I was treating her at the hospital.”

Richard’s eyebrows raised in surprise and he looked back at me, “You don’t have much luck with cars, it seems.”

“More like I don’t have much luck with people.” I corrected him with a smug grin, “I’m actually pretty handy with cars.”

“Are you?” He asked in a patronizing tone.

My eyes narrowed slightly, “I was an apprentice to a mechanic for about six months a few years ago. I was in that shop all day, every day, and he taught me everything personally. I even still have the bike he gave me and I take care of it as well as the people you pay to take care of your Cadillac.”

Richard’s eyes narrowed back at me for a few long moments. I could tell he was trying to make me back down for the snide comment, but I held my ground and didn’t break eye contact. Just when I thought the tension had grown too thick, he let out a laugh. It still sounded a bit strained, but it lightened the mood once more.

“Well, maybe I’ll ask you for some pointers then.”

I bared my teeth in what could barely pass as a smile, “I’d gladly give them.”

Then Richard directed his attention to his daughter, “Since you mentioned it, Nadya, how are things going at the hospital? At school?”

The sudden change in topic caught Nadya completely off guard. She had been so focused on covering for me that she must not have predicted that this question would arise, at least not here, because I was fairly sure that her father knew she was no longer attending school in person or working at the hospital. His tone and expression, one of a scolding parent, confirmed that suspicion.

Nadya slowly sat up straight, her whole body frozen, and her mouth hung open as she tried to form words, “Uh, well, things have changed a bit…”

I shot Richard a contempt glare for making Nadya uncomfortable, but it was like I no longer existed to him in this moment. He was only focused on his daughter, staring her down for an explanation. Why he chose to confront her here in a public place, and in front of me, was even more puzzling. The only reason I could think of was public humiliation as a form of punishment. That thought made a quiet growl rumble at the back of my throat.

“I’ve noticed.” He said with a flat smile.

“Richard…” Winona pleaded under her breath.

He didn’t take his eyes off of Nadya, “She knows how much I’ve invested to get her into that school. To help her pay rent, utilities, whatever she needs. And suddenly she’s no longer there anymore?”

“I’m still going to school, Dad. I’m still learning.” Nadya’s leg started to bounce with nerves underneath the table, “Listen, I got an opportunity that I couldn’t pass up. It’s a doctors without borders program and I’m helping people that really need it. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do… but I had to leave to do it.”

“It’s true, I’ve been with her the whole time.” I couldn’t stand by and leave Nadya fumbling to defend herself. I absolutely hated the way Richard was looking at her, the way he was making her feel with the overbearing posture he was exuding, “When she isn’t working, she’s studying. No one works harder than your daughter.”

After a brief glance at me, he continued his interrogation, “How come you didn’t talk to me about it first?”

“It was a last minute thing. I felt like I could make that decision for myself.” Nadya answered with a more confident tone, though her anxiety still pulsed off of her with every heavy heartbeat.

Just then, a waiter arrived to clear any empty plates. The momentary distraction allowed me the time to reach under the table and place a comforting hand on Nadya’s thigh without getting caught. I brushed my thumb across her leg a few times and felt relieved when the bouncing stilled under my touch, her body relaxing. Her hand came to rest on top of mine, but then the waiter left with a stack full of dishes and I forced myself to pull away from her before her parents could notice anything. Even though every cell in my body screamed against it, I couldn’t risk outing Nadya before she was ready.

“We’ll talk about this more at home.” Richard stated as he motioned for the check.

I didn’t even bother to hide my eye roll. It took more than a little will power not to snap at him. Just because Richard was her father, didn’t mean he could speak to her like she was a disobeying child. Especially when it wasn’t Nadya’s fault that she had to leave school. It was mine. Realizing that I was witnessing one of the consequences to dragging Nadya into my life made my shoulders start to slump in shame. I wanted to redirect Richard’s ire away from Nadya and towards me more than anything.

I tried to distract myself with some of the sights we ended up driving through, it was a beautiful city after all. All of the colorful houses and overly steep hills were something whimsical and unique to see, everything so mismatched, but it surprisingly fit cohesively. I listened patiently as I was told about this place or that, appreciating the history involved and nodding along like an eager student. Despite being such a large and crowded city, San Francisco had a handful of peaceful looking spots where you could pretend you weren’t in a concrete jungle.

One place in particular, that we visited at Nadya’s request, looked like something plucked straight out of ancient Rome. A small artificial lagoon surrounded a massive dome structure, flanked by Roman style columns and trees dotted here and there to make it look like it had sprung up in the middle of a forest. The lagoon reflected the whole scene like a mirror, giving the illusion of two separate worlds being connected at the edge of the water. Small clusters of tourists followed a trail around the lagoon that even went under the dome and I wanted to see it up close just like they were.

I followed Nadya and her parents as they led me down that path, feeling more at ease with the scents of a tiny piece of nature. I could see why Nadya wanted to show me this place. It was gorgeous, and I soon found myself getting so enthralled by everything that I was lagging behind a bit to appreciate it all at my own pace.

Then we arrived at the central rotunda. The underside of the dome was the most notable. It stretched well over a hundred feet up, the design reminding me of a honeycomb, and the acoustics echoed voices and footsteps in a way that almost gave me the urge to sing. The dome itself was held up by several columns, each had a statue of an angel of some sort perched on top and looking down at the witnesses to their beauty.

I must have looked like a little kid, staring straight up with an expression of awe as I slowly shuffled around underneath the massive work of art. This was worth coming into the congestion of a big city to see. The only thing that pulled me out of it was the sound of a camera shutter. My gaze shot back down to look for the source and I saw Nadya giving me a sheepish smile after she lowered her camera. I hadn’t even known she had it, but I suppose she secretly stashed it in her shoulder bag the same way I secretly stashed a gun in my waistband.

“I couldn’t resist.” she stated in her defense.

“I don’t mind.” I told her with a beaming grin and looked back up at the dome before quietly saying, “It’s a bit romantic, isn’t it?”

She nodded, “That’s why it’s my favorite place in the city.”

“I’m glad I got to see it.”

“Me too.” Nadya stepped closer to me, filling all of my senses with her presence, and then I felt her fingers lace with mine.

My eyes darted around in case her parents were nearby. They weren’t anywhere to be found, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t suddenly appear from around a corner.

“They went back to the car.” She told me, “They’ve seen this place about a thousand times already.”

Her words filled me with relief, finally allowing me to enjoy some bit of contact with her. I didn’t know how anyone could ever get sick of a sight like this, but I was grateful for their absence nonetheless, “Good.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Nadya said, caressing her thumb over the back of my hand. When I gave her a look in question, she elaborated, “For what you said at lunch. I was worried he wasn’t going to believe me.”

My hand squeezed hers protectively, “I hated the way he was talking to you.”

“I understand where he’s coming from though.” She gave me a sad smile, “He’s done a lot for me and it’s like I just up and left.”

“But that wasn’t your fault at all.” I pointed out.

“No,” Nadya agreed with a shake of her head, “But we can’t exactly tell him that without explaining why. And that isn’t an option.” When that made the weight of my guilt feel heavier, she gave my hand a gentle shake, “Hey, I can handle this. I promise.”

“I know you can, Nadya.” I said fondly.

She looked at me in adoration, the warmth in her brown eyes nearly glittering with the love she had for me, and I felt my heart swell. Suddenly nothing, not even the impressive architecture around us, couldn’t compare to how gorgeous she was. I would be content to stare at her for the rest of the day, everything else be damned.

Then Nadya took me by surprise yet again when she leaned in to press a kiss to my lips. The incredibly bold action made my muscles freeze up, but I was soon soothed by the familiar feeling and had to fight with every fiber of my being not to deepen it. It was over far too quickly, but it would have been too risky if we had indulged ourselves any more than that.

Nadya pulled back and looked at me, her expression becoming smug and amused, “I thought I told you not to look at me like that.”

“You’re killing me.”

She bit her lip playfully, bringing my hand up to plant another peck on my skin, and then backed away from me until our contact was severed. My chest pinched, but the smile on her face kept it from stinging too terribly, “Let’s get back.”

I was less uncomfortable when the awkward silence in the car returned because the butterflies in my stomach were still fluttering like crazy from the brief kiss Nadya gave me under the giant rotunda. Actually, I was glad to not have to engage in many words, for my mind to be free to replay the memory over and over. I couldn’t wait to hold her tonight when I planned to sneak into her room.

By the time we returned to the Bishops’ house, the sun was starting its descent into the horizon. I could also sense the growing tension in the family, understanding full well that Richard planned to confront his daughter yet again while I was occupied with cooking the dinner I had promised. No part of me wanted to leave Nadya alone to that, but she gave me a confident nod after I hesitated to exit the living room. After a few moments of a fleeting glance between us, I disappeared to the back of the house.

As time went on, being alone in the kitchen and watching over our cooking dinner while Nadya talked with her parents in the living room started making me more and more uneasy. But then I remembered her insistence that she could handle it. I believed her when she said that, but it just didn’t feel right not being by her side. At least I could distract myself with cooking. My role as chef tonight was one of the few things I was comfortable with.

The back door to the house came into the kitchen and it suddenly opened. My first instinct was to tense for an attack, reach for the gun that I had stupidly hid back in my bag upstairs, but I quickly calmed myself at the casual movements of the man entering the house. An intruder wouldn’t come into a home like he lived in it.

The young man was probably a few years older than me and I heard the clinking of dog tags around his neck. Military. When he saw me, we sized each other up curiously. There was something familiar about his features that wasn’t easy to place right away. After a moment, I realized that I recognized the face. I had seen a younger version of it in a picture on the mantle above the fireplace. A large and dark pit formed in my stomach when it finally clicked, swirling like an abyss, waiting to claim a victim. This was Nadya’s brother. Everything that she told me about him came back into my mind with a rush of blood and the blackness of the pit turned into roiling fire.

“Oh,” Ruben said, sounding disinterested, “You’re the friend.”

“I didn’t know you were going to be here.” I replied, grinding my teeth and desperately trying to keep my rage under control.

He shrugged with an infuriating smirk, “Don’t feel too bad, I didn’t tell anyone. I heard my kid sister was coming home and I just had to surprise her.”

Ruben’s words utterly disgusted me. I was certain he knew damn well that Nadya would be terrified to know that he was here. The sickening smile on his face made it obvious that he took pleasure in that. That’s when I noticed something slightly odd about him, besides the obvious. He certainly shared a lot of resemblance to Richard, but there was very little of Nadya and hardly anything resembling Winona. Where Nadya’s brown eyes were warm and comforting, his blue ones were cold and cruel. Where Winona’s face was calm and inviting, his was calculating and standoffish.

I listened for the family a few rooms away. They remained deep in conversation and were most likely oblivious to Ruben’s presence. There was still time to kick his ass out.

“I don’t think she would enjoy that.” I said, turning to face him completely. “Maybe you should leave.” My expression let him know that it wasn’t a suggestion.

Ruben’s eyes narrowed as he studied me for a few seconds. Then he scoffed, “What did she tell you?”

“Nothing.” I continued to stare him down, “I just know a douche when I see one.”

His lip twitched in anger and he took an aggressive step towards me. Ruben’s eyes sparkled with cruelty. It was the polar opposite of what I had grown to love in Nadya’s eyes, that sparkle being something I’ve never seen even a hint of in her. He couldn’t even outwardly hide his intentions for the world and it was shocking to think that someone so closely related to her could be this much of an asshole. Just standing this close to him, feeling the bad energy he exuded, made wolf under my skin bristle.

His body language practically oozed arrogance. “Nadya is a little confused about some things. She’s messed up in the head. Maybe think about that before you believe every dramatic story she tells you.”

My fury spiked when he mentioned her name, his words wearing what little patience I had even thinner. “This is the last time I’ll say it. You need to leave.”

Ruben’s grin was both chilling and enraging. “This is my house. The only way you’re getting me out of here is if you make a huge scene and something tells me you don’t wanna do that.”

I hated to admit it, but he was right. I didn’t know him enough to tell if he was bluffing or not, but my instincts told me he was serious. If a scene broke out, then that would ruin everything Nadya was trying so hard to mend, putting her in more stress. On the other hand, Ruben would force her to relive the trauma that she thought she escaped. I wasn’t sure which option was worse for her right now. If Ruben had to stay, then I could protect her from him. As long as I’m here, he wouldn’t get anywhere near her.

The moment of silence ended with me swiftly wrapping my hand around Ruben’s throat and shoving him against the pantry. I held back slightly so the impact he made against the cupboard wouldn’t alert the others. My hand squeezed and a huge part of me just wanted to break his goddamn neck right here and now. Everyone would be a lot better off. But then I would have a body to deal with. Not to mention, I would have killed Nadya’s parents’ son right under their roof. Doesn’t really make the best first impression.

“Listen to me,” I growled, low and menacing, right in his face, “You stay as far away from her as possible. You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. Matter of fact, she no longer exists to you anymore.” Each slow word I spoke was dripping with all the rage I felt towards him. “If you break any of these rules, I will kill you. Do you understand me?”

The sudden fear I smelled coming off of him nearly threw my wolf into a frenzy. This pathetic thing in my grasp was weak and all I had was hatred for it. I wanted to rip him apart for everything that he did to her. I wanted to squeeze the life out of him and watch that cruel light of his flicker out. The last time I wanted to kill someone this badly was when I watched my father die. Raw fury made my skin tingle, my body shake, and I could tell my eyes began to shine, but I didn’t care as long as it got my point across.

Ruben’s horrified expression took me in. He didn’t react to my words in any other way, so I shook him roughly, “Do you understand me?”

When I saw him struggle to nod, I released my grip. Ruben scrambled away from me, desperately gasping for breath. Maybe I’d get lucky and that would scare him enough to run. “What the fuck are you?”

“Your worst nightmare.” I answered and turned back to cooking dinner. As soon as I let him go, I felt my eyes fade back to their usual color. Regaining my control, yet still feeling the burning rage within me.

“I’ll tell them-”

“Tell them what?” I cut him off with a dangerous look. “Nobody will believe a damn word out of your mouth.”

Ruben stood staring at me for what felt like minutes. No doubt trying to calculate exactly how many choices he had in this moment. My hard, unwavering glare reminded him that he didn’t have many if he wanted to come out of this in one piece. I may not kill him tonight, but every bone in my body, every instinct and impulse I had, wanted me to end his worthless life. Ruben’s days were numbered.

The moment passed with him unable to come up with anything to say or do other than try to move past me. I immediately knew I couldn’t let Nadya see him before I got the chance to warn her. My hand reached out, grabbing a fistful of his shirt to stop him in his tracks, “Go outside and come in through the front door.” I ordered, shoving him backwards. He scowled at me, but did as I commanded.

As soon as Ruben went out the back door, I moved out of the kitchen and made my way to the living room. Nadya was still talking with her parents. A part of me felt bad for interrupting, but I had no choice. “Nadya, can you come help me with dinner for a minute?”

Nadya must have seen something in my expression that caused her to give me an odd look. Thankfully, her parents seemed oblivious. “Be right back.” Nadya told them and got up from the couch to follow me.

Once we were in the kitchen, Nadya asked, “Is everything okay?”

I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, turning to her and reaching to hold her hands in mine. “I want you to know that if we were anywhere else besides here, I wouldn’t have let this happen. And I am so sorry.”

“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” she replied hesitantly.

“Ruben is here.”

All the color drained from her face as her expression went blank. “He, um… he’s supposed to be overseas.” Nadya’s voice was hollow.

I gently raised my hands to cup her face. “Listen to me.” I said softly. I might’ve even felt her temperature drop. Her eyes were bright with fear. “You are safe. I’m here and I will not let him do anything to you, okay? You just say the word and we’ll come up with an excuse to leave.”

Nadya gripped my forearms tightly and shut her eyes. She stayed like that for a full minute while she controlled her breathing. Thinking that my presence was helping, I rested my forehead against hers to let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.

“We can go.” I eventually said again. “We should go.”

“No,” Nadya shook her head, leaning back to look at me. “No, I can’t leave yet. Just- please stay close to me.”

“I won’t leave you while he’s here.” I promised.

Dinner was almost ready, so Nadya stayed with me until it was finished. I waited and listened, but it was almost ten minutes before I heard the front door open and close. Who knows why it took Ruben so long to just walk around the house. It made me nervous. I started thinking of ways to sneak upstairs for my gun.

“Did you talk to him?” Nadya asked quietly.

I nodded, “Tried to get him to leave, but he wouldn’t without making a scene. He’ll behave though. I made sure of it.”

“You don’t know him.” She warned.

“Well, I threatened to kill him, so,” I shrugged, plating some of our dinner.

“You did what?”

Her outright shock surprised me. I thought that would make her feel better. “I told him to stay away from you or I’d kill him.”

“Why would you say that?” Nadya’s voice became a frantic whisper, “You don’t know what Ruben is capable of when he’s pissed off.”

“Nadya, I can handle him. I didn’t just piss him off, he’s afraid of me. I doubt he’ll try anything.” Ruben likes to prey on people that he thinks are weak. He didn’t scare me, therefore he had no power over me. In time, Nadya will learn that she is more powerful than he ever was, but until then, I could deal with him to protect her.

“Jayde, don’t underestimate him.”

She was still staring at me with a mixture of disbelief and fear when we heard her mother call to us, “Nadya! Your brother is here, come say hi!”

Nadya finally tore her gaze from me, grabbing my shirt sleeve and tugging at it to get me to follow her. I couldn’t hold her hand, or put an arm around her, or even stand too close while we were here, but I wouldn’t leave her side. Hopefully my presence will keep Ruben in check. As much as I wanted to kill him, I didn’t want it to be tonight. But he had to know I meant it or he would never take me seriously and that was dangerous.

We got into the living room and as soon as Ruben saw me, he took a subtle step back. Good. Remember your place.

“Look who wanted to surprise us.” Winona said pleasantly.

“Wasn’t expecting you.” Nadya forced her fear down rather convincingly, though I could still smell it all over her. I guess she knew how to suppress it around her parents. Years of practice being under Ruben’s threats conditioned her.

The rage started to boil up again, making my skin tingle. I took a deep breath to settle my fury, making sure to keep my eyes down as much as possible. It was one thing to show some of my true nature in front of Ruben as a scare tactic, but I wasn’t sure their parents would react well to my eyes glowing.

Ruben addressed his parents even though he made it sound like he was answering Nadya. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve been home.”

“What a nice time for you to come visit.” Winona mused, “How'd you get the time off?”

I’d had about enough with the pleasantries. “Dinner’s ready.”

“Oh,” Richard chimed in like he had forgotten that I was there. “This is your sister’s friend, Jayde.”

I stepped forward and reached my hand out to shake with Ruben. He looked at me warily, but accepted my handshake. I gripped his hand hard enough that he had to suppress a wince. It was another reminder of what I told him, but instead of cowering like I expected, Ruben’s eyes burned and he squeezed back with all his might. The human’s strength hardly even registered, so all I did was smirk.

“Nice meeting you.” I told him coldly and he nodded.

All throughout dinner, I could feel how scared Nadya was sitting beside me. Even placing myself between her and Ruben did little to relieve her anxiety, it lingered in the air around her like a thick invisible cloud. Knowing and feeling what she was going through certainly made me lose any appetite I had. I wanted to reach under the table and place a comforting hand on her thigh like I did at lunch, but there were no easy distractions to hide behind. The best I could do was a subtle bump of my elbow to hers, hoping that reminding her of my presence would help. Nadya bumped me back in recognition.

I could also feel Ruben’s growing fury while we ate. Every few minutes I would throw a glare in his direction, but his jaw was set in such a tight clench that I was anticipating the sound of his teeth breaking any minute. Winona and Richard didn’t seem at all concerned with Ruben, despite him not bothering to hide the mood he was in, and I recalled that Nadya told me what an angry kid he was when they were growing up. This kind of behavior was normal to their parents. Which just made me angrier. I should’ve just killed him.

I couldn’t even focus on the conversations happening at the table. Richard and Winona praised me for the food I made and that was all I reacted to, giving them short responses to loosen my clenched jaw. It was so obvious that Ruben wanted to test the boundaries that I set for him. I was silently warning him not to, but the guy was just too fucking stupid and arrogant.

Towards the end of dinner, Ruben stood up, “I’m gonna go for a smoke break.” He announced, coming around to our side of the table, walking behind me, and placed a hand on Nadya’s shoulder. The pat was swift, and even gentle, but Nadya still froze like a statue under his touch. Then he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “I’m happy you’re here, Nadya.” before continuing on his way.

Every cell in me ignited with a fire that burned hot enough to frighten me. Every muscle had suddenly tensed to the snapping point. I actually started to see red and immediately looked down because I knew my eyes were definitely shining.

No way. No fucking way was he getting away with that.

“Excuse me.” I growled, getting up a little more aggressively than I intended, causing the chair to screech backwards loudly.

“Jay,” Nadya started, but I was already gone.

Ruben wasn’t out back, but I caught his putrid scent. It led down the neighborhood, behind all the houses. I followed it. He was smart enough to know there was going to be repercussions for what he did and I was smart enough to know that he was probably setting a trap of some kind. I didn’t give a single shit. Didn’t even care that I hadn’t gone upstairs to retrieve my gun first. As soon as I saw him, I was going to beat him to death. Ruben couldn’t stop me no matter what he had planned.

In his bad attempt at an ambush, I found him pressed up against the side of a garage behind one of the empty houses on this street, tucked in the shadows. My hands gripped his shirt before he could react and I pulled him away from the brick wall only to slam him against it with enough force that must have cracked his skull. Not enough to kill him or knock him out. I wanted to take a little bit of time with this. Ruben grunted, just barely keeping his footing. As I held him up and pulled a fist back to smash his face in, I heard a click.

The barrel of a handgun was resting on my chest. “Not expecting this, huh?”

I stared down at it, then back up as his smug face. There was a moment of silence and I scoffed at him. My hand quickly snatched the wrist holding the gun, slowly forcing the barrel up towards the sky, and I squeezed with all my strength. The iron vice I had on Ruben was too tight to allow him to pull the trigger. After a moment, with even more unrelenting force applied while he was struggling against me, I heard and felt a pop in his wrist. Ruben let out a cry in pain and had no choice but to release his weapon. The gun clattered on the ground and I tore him off the wall again, shoving him into the alley hard enough that he fell.

“Not expecting that, huh?” I mimicked his tone. Leaning down, I picked up the gun. Ejecting the cartridge and the loaded bullet, tossing them all in different directions. Ruben didn’t deserve a quick death. “What did I say to you?” My rage was still prevalent. Bad enough that I started to feel some of my bones shift. I was dangerously close to turning. I haven’t been this close to losing control since my first few full moons.

Ruben sat before me, clutching his wrist and looking pissed as ever. “You’re not gonna kill me.”

“I am.” My growl sounded.

“Jayde!” Nadya appeared, breathing heavily and scrambling to place herself between me and Ruben. “Jayde, don’t do this!”

I stared at her, completely dumbfounded. “What are you doing?”

“Whatever it is you’re about to do, I am begging you not to.” She held a hand out like she was prepared to physically stop me if she had to, her eyes were so frantic and terrified that all I could do was stare at her blankly. Seeing that I was distracted, Nadya looked over her shoulder. “Go.” She ordered Ruben. He went to say something, but she wouldn’t let him. “Just go!”

Ruben hesitated for another moment, but shot up and stumbled away. I continued to stare at Nadya. Not understanding. It was jarring enough that my anger started to fade, allowing me the control I nearly lost. “Why did you do that?”

“He’s my brother, Jayde.” It didn’t even sound like it was Nadya who said that.

“What?” I said in disbelief, “He’s your abuser. He put his hands on you right in front of me after I told him not to!”

“This isn’t as black and white as ‘he’s the bad guy and needs to die’, Jayde!” She was trying to keep her voice down so no one would be alerted by our argument. “Think about the consequences!”

“I did!”

“No, you clearly didn’t!” Nadya took a deep breath, frustrated tears running down her cheeks. “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but you just almost murdered my brother in the neighborhood we grew up in, four houses from where our parents are wondering what the hell is going on. Don’t you get it?”

It made my stomach flip every time she called Ruben her brother. I didn’t know how she could claim him like that, but I understood what she was saying. My rage got the better of me. The timing couldn’t have been worse and I played right into Ruben’s scheme. I relented with a loud, groaning sigh. “I get it. I don’t really agree, but I get it.”

“That’s fine. Just think more, okay?” I nodded and Nadya moved closer to me, placing one hand on my shoulder while the other cupped underneath my jaw. “Now, are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

“No.” I reassured her as she was inspecting my face, “He can’t fight for shit.”

“He also holds grudges.” She warned, dropping her arms.

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous concept of Ruben being a formidable enemy, “He doesn’t scare me.”

A small, sad smile came across her lips. “That makes one of us.”

My heart seized and I looked at her regretfully, “I’m sorry I didn’t stop it.”

“What could you have done without making a scene?” Nadya pointed out to make me feel better. It didn’t. “It’s okay, he’s done worse.”

That definitely didn’t make me feel better. I pulled her in for a hug and Nadya eagerly accepted it. I shut my eyes and held her as tightly as she held me. Her scent and her warmth calmed my restless and vengeful wolf, soothing what remained of my rage. Finally, I felt her body relax and melt against mine as she buried her face in my neck. I continued to hold her for as long as she needed to remind her that I was here and she was safe.

Nadya reluctantly disentangled herself from me and wiped at her stray tears. “Come on, we gotta go explain to my parent’s that you had a reaction to an ingredient in the food or something.”

“Okay.” I said with a sigh and followed her back to the house.

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cienie-isengardu · 4 years

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Hello! I noticed one sad thing - it seems that Anakin wasn't even a hug after his departure from Tatooine? The guy clearly had a strong tactile hunger. I remember Obi-Wan hugging and being hugged, but I don't remember that with Anakin. And becoming Darth Vader... he definitely was touch-starved as hell. All this is unfair... and awful... I really hope that I am wrong and just inattentively read books!

Hi!

Anakin’s approach to touch is kinda complicated thing. On one hand, Shmi and the closest childhood friends were a source of comfort to the boy thus their touch (hugging, holding hands) was welcomed gesture and returned by Anakin. With them, being touched without permission was acceptable, because Skywalker knew they mean no harm to him, that it was a sign of love, friendship, worrying for and a way to reassurance each other in difficult times.

On another hand, Anakin grew up in abusive environment and there is enough sources to give general idea how his life looked then. Including the physical abuse coming from slave masters, like was mentioned in AotC novelization:

[Anakin] wasn’t sure how he would feel about seeing the slaver, even if Watto had nothing to do with bringing any harm to Shmi. Watto had treated him better than most in Mos Espa treated their slaves, and hadn’t beaten him too often […]

Anakin seems to be very open kid in TPM even to strangers, but we must remember that he actually had a chance to observe them in junk shop and talk to Padme (kind, beautiful yet very lost girl) and Jar Jar (clumsy but not dangerous alien) before he decided to be involved with those people for good. The fact that Jinn was Jedi, what Anakin noticed quickly, probably helped a lot too to be open and accepting - and even initiate - touch around them

Similar like Anakin & Padme’s romance on Naboo, TPM gives us a sense of actually real connection between him and other people - especially Jinn and Padme. They may know each other for a short time, but their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and friendship. Jinn’s touch was consolation for Anakin in uncertain time of his life and main support after leaving Shmi behind.

Growing up in Jedi Order for sure wasn’t the easiest process for Anakin, but as much as Jedi Council (Yoda) made him feel unwelcome, unwanted and different, Jedi Code was strongly against attachment to people and things but did not forbid any physical contact between padawans and Jedi alike. Yet it is easy to see difference between TPM!Anakin and his older version in AotC. Skywalker’s whole body language changed, became more closed off, guarded.He is less likely to physically interact with other people. Obi-Wan (as his long-time master now) and Padme (who he knew before and their familiarity has strengthened again) are understandable exceptions, because both were very important and trusted people in Anakin’s life.

There is no doubt the violence that Anakin experienced in slavery affected him deeply (x). The real question is how much childhood trauma AND the feeling of being different while growing up between Jedi affected Skywalker’s physical isolation and how much he himself cut off from other people:

“Anakin had always been something of an enigma to Jax and the other Padawans. He was nearly the same age as Jax, and they had studied and dueled together often. While it was true that no one could really get close to Anakin - he had always maintained an aloofness, a reserve, that none could penetrate- still, Jax had counted himself as one of the troubled young Jedi’s few confidants.” [Coruscant Night: Jedi Twilight by Michael Reaves]

We may only wonder how much Anakin changed “naturally” and how much it is effect of his loneliness, pressure and difference he felt for years. I personally don’t think Anakin per se needed hugs to feel better. Rather he needed a true friend(s), someone to bond with, someone loyal and accepting. And yes, Obi-Wan is definitely a person that Anakin trusted and respected and whose touch was accepted by him, but his master tried as much as possible to not “touch” Skywalker’s past (and trauma) and the desire “to make Skywalker the best Jedi” often didn’t allow him to act in more affectional way toward his student. To act in a way struggling Anakin needed.

That said, Anakin was always a kind person, willing to show support (physical gestures) when it was possible. He did that for Ahsoka and clone troopers through the war. But it is easy to see how much more guarded he act in AotC and beyond than he did as a kid. That he was less willing to be the one initiating touch, unless he knew well said person (Padme). Frankly, I’m not even sure if he ever hugged Ahsoka, beside the critical moments after some drastic experiences (her dying in Mortis arc, maybe?). Either there were some rules for physical touching between master and padawan or Anakin simply tried to respect Ahsoka’s personal space and allowed himself to touch her (hand on arm usually, if I remember right) when he felt she needed more palpable support.

There was a time when I suspected Anakin may suffer from no physical contact, but now, looking at Anakin from AotC through the whole war, he doesn’t exactly look to me as “touch starved” person. Especially not in the sense of being desperate to have physical contact with others. He just became more private, secretive man, an introvert that always kept in mind showing emotions (attchament) wasn’t wise thing to do around other Jedi. And really, some people (due to trauma or just that type of nature) simply do not like or need that much physical contact with others.

I guess, as introvert myself, I don’t think Anakin wanted that much physical contact, more like needed to hear some recognition from fellow Jedi. Simple you are good enough coming from Council would probably made him feel better than any hug from Yoda or Windu or any Jedi could do.

As for Vader the situation become more complex and much simplier at the same time. To allow someone touch him was unacceptable. Living outside armor was impossible thing at that time - the armor keep him alive and without it, he would die. Without it, the flesh and scars were unprotected, easy to hurt, and as a Sith Lord he can’t allow himself for such weakness. Beside, as much as Anakin missed Padme (and her touch), what was the point of wishing for any physical contact, if Padme was dead? He loved her and only her, any other person - beside few trusted medics & droids - would never be allowed to touch him ever again.

(Though even as Vader, Anakin was willing to show some support to his troopers and close associates with physical gestures. He wasn’t affraid or beyond attachment to touch people, he just didn’t need any kind gestures from others for himself)

#star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #funny how my reading of anakin changed #there was time when i think the lack of physical contact could affect him #but i don't see him touch starved anymore #what he truly needed was #recognition and validation #while touching was a sign of trust #those who could touch him without permission were friends and trusted people #obi padme even palpatine #maybe ahsoka once he get used to her #and 501st though he was the one usually patting troopers #but that makes sense he is the general they are just troopers it wouldn't feel ok to invade his personal space #but the fact he kept reserve toward other padawans and jedi #just proves he didn't feel good in jedi temple #vader just didn't care for such human things like touch #padme was dead so he focused at things that keep him busy #like force and empire #my replies

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stellarconstellationwrites · 4 years

Text

Ghost of the Past

Chapter 1

Wedgeherst was a quaint town; almost as quaint as the neighboring town, Postwick. The two routes that separated the two towns were also tame enough for a few people to live peacefully without being bothered by Pokemon, the regional professor was a prime example of that fact. A five year old Leon was too far gone in his own excitement to listen to his mother's exasperated demands. Sonia had told him that someone was moving into the empty house next door to her and her grandmother, the professor. It was a new person to get to know! A new kid to play with! Hopefully. The purple haired child found himself wondering if the new kid liked Pokemon; if they wanted to be a trainer as badly as he and Sonia did; if they had the same drive of learning about Pokemon that they did.

"Leon," his mother says with a sigh, pulling the five year old out of his childlike reverie of thoughts. The child looked up at his mother expectedly, his large, innocent eyes still brimmed with obvious excitement as his mother held his attention for the moment. "Please be on your best behavior for the Professor."

"Okay, Mum!" said Leon excitedly, an innocent grin on his face. His excitement was followed by a happy cry from the Charmander Leon had got a week prior for his birthday. "I'll see you later, Mum!"

"Be safe dear!" She called after her son as he ran out of the front door of the house, the small fire-lizard following his trainer. He had so much energy for a five-year-old, Amaya couldn't be any prouder. However, being pregnant with her second child; dealing with her first born's ever existing excitement and endless energy was exhausting for Amaya. Amaya could hear the faint 'I will!' from Leon as she began preparing lunch for Leon, Sonia, and the new child in the neighborhood.

Leon had met up with Sonia halfway to her house at the end of Route 2, she was just as excited as Leon was. To say the least, being the only two kids in the neighborhood was boring, so their excitement was justified. Sonia's Yamper was walking behind them with Charmander; excited, but nervous cries from the Pokemon could be heard as they made their way through the route.

"Grandma said that the neighbors are from a region called Kanto," said Sonia, her turquoise eyes shining with a certain curiosity about her new neighbor. "It's far, far away from here."

"Nevermind that, Sonia!" exclaimed Leon, who caused the ginger female and the Pokemon to jump slightly at the sudden loudness of his voice, as he was quiet up to that point. A quiet Leon was oftentimes a dangerous Leon. "Was there a kid there?"

"Yes, Leon," Sonia sighed with a shake of her head, clearly exasperated with her friend. She didn't understand her friend's thought process sometimes. "A kid around our age."

"Boy or girl?"

"Should it matter?"

"Not really," Leon answered as they approached the two houses at the end of Route 2.

Leon was familiar with the Magnolia household as he frequently visited it; the home always gave him a warm feeling, much like his own. The neighboring house, not so much. Despite the house being on the same path that led from Wedgehurst, it always gave the two children a sense of uneasiness as they passed by it each day; and it was to remain unknown to the children as to what caused that sense of dread and uneasiness. With the overgrown weeds, the trees that never seemed to have leaves, no matter the season; the two often speculated that the house was haunted and that it was filled to the brim with super rare ghost Pokemon. Another wild speculation that the two had come up with was that a homeless person lived in the house and eventually died in the house, causing the spirit to be bound to the house. However, the children’s imagination always ran rampant when they found themselves wondering about things they shouldn’t be thinking about. With their Pokemon by their sides, the two hopeful, but scared five year olds steeled their nerves and headed towards the now lived in house.

The Pokemon Moving Company Machoke dutifully did their job as they moved boxes from the moving truck and to the house. The two five year olds looked around for someone human, but not a soul was in sight, despite the door of the house being open.

"Hello?" Sonia called into the eerily silent house, her voice wavering slightly due to nervousness.

"Marionette, dear, can you see who's at the door?" came a tired female voice from further into the home. It obviously belonged to someone much older than Sonia and Leon, most likely Marionette's mother; whoever she was. Following the voice was the soft pitter pattering of sock covered feet against the wooden floor. Not a moment later, a girl with dark brown hair and matching eyes entered the living room, seemingly from the kitchen. She just looked at Sonia and Leon with a blank expression as a strange puppet-like Pokemon floated over her head. It wouldn't be until much later that week that the duo learned the curious puppet Pokemon was called Shuppet, a Pokemon native to the Hoenn region. "Marionette?"

A second round of soft pitter pattering of feet ensued as an older woman emerged from the staircase on the left of the three children. The woman looked just like the girl, Marionette. Dark brown hair; albeit with graying streaks, dark brown eyes that almost looked black and a fair complexion. "Oh, you must be the neighbor's granddaughter, she did mention she had a granddaughter."

"A-Ah, yes, that's me," Sonia said with a nervous chuckle as she avoided eye contact with the strange girl, her equally strange Pokemon and her mother. It wasn't like Sonia to be this nervous with strangers, Leon noted. "M-My name is Sonia, this is Leon. He lives a couple of towns over."

"I can introduce myself," Leon grumbled, but he still had a smile on his face as the strange girl named Marionette let a small smile peak through her blank expression.

"Go play with the neighbors, Marionette," the woman said as she smiled down at the girl, who nodded. Leon and Sonia took this as a sign to leave the mysterious house with its strange homeowner.

"So your name's Marionette?" Sonia asked as soon as the trio left the formerly abandoned home and began walking along the route. Marionette nodded at this as she looked at the scenery that surrounded her house. The surrounding scenery was certainly brighter compared to the gloominess of the house, that much was obvious. Upon closer inspection, Marionette was far paler than she let on when the duo first met her inside the house; it was like she didn't get an ounce of sunshine. "Is there a nickname you'd like us to call you?"

"What's a nickname?" asked Marionette, who looked confused and curious at the question.

"You don't know what a nickname is?" retorts Leon, who looked bewildered at the statement. Marionette shook her head at this.

"The kids in my hometown were named after colors," Marionette explains softly. It dawned on the two Galar born children that (in their childlike innocence, of course) they wanted to make this sad girl happy. "And my mother always called me by my full name."

"A nickname is a shortened version of your name!" Leon explained in a surprising burst of excitement. The burst caused a surprised squeak to escape Marionette and Sonia to yell at Leon for scaring the poor girl. He ignored Sonia's burst of anger and continued his explanation. "Like you can call me Lee!"

"But your name is already short as is?" Marionette countered questioningly with a tilt of her head. "Why shorten it by a letter?"

"It's a symbol of our friendship," Leon explained as they reached Wedgehurst. The town itself supplied all the traveling trainers needs; a Pokemon Center that held the item shop, the man that taught your Pokemon any forgotten moves, and of course, the ever loving Nurse Joy that looked the exact same in every location. There was also a boutique, of course; for those who enjoyed the change of pace of shopping for clothes.

"You want to be friends with me?" questioned Marionette as the trio made their way to the Pokemon Research Lab.

"Of course we do, silly," says Sonia with a bright smile on her round, childish face. "It'd be lonely to not have any friends, right Leon?"

"Right," says the male in question, who had begun thinking about something. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts as an imaginary lightbulb went off above his head. "I know! How about we call you Mari? It'd be short for your really long name!"

"Mari, huh?" questioned the ginger female, twisting a short lock of hair in thought. She couldn't help but nod in agreement. "It's short and cute, I like it. I didn't think you could pull off something like a cute nickname, Leon."

"O-Oi, leave me alone, Sonia," Leon whined as a pout began to form on his five year old face. Though he knew Sonia was only poking fun at him, Leon would do the same thing to her in a heartbeat.

"I like it," Marionette softly says, blushing slightly as the two turned to face her, stopping in mid-conversation to smile at her. While the pale girl with the dancing ghost Pokemon didn't talk much, it was obvious that they would become quick friends.

The champion of Galar was deep in thought as a certain Dark-type Gym Leader aimlessly followed him in the streets of Hammerlocke. While Piers was glad to see his friend again, the rockstar hates getting lost, especially on one of his rare days off from gym work and recording.

"What's on your mind, mate?" Piers asks, adjusting his leather jacket. Piers might've looked stupid to a lot of people, but the rockstar slash gym leader (an extremely exhausted one at that) was far more perceptive than he let on. "And don't say it's nothing either, your lying abilities are just as shitty as your sense of direction."

"Just thinking about an old friend, is all," answers the champion honestly. Leon could barely remember his childhood after Hop was born, yet the memory he suddenly remembered was in such vivid detail; it was almost like he experienced it yesterday. "Speaking of an old friend, you'll be meeting her today, in fact. Don't worry about it, she's just as weird and creepy as you are."

"I'm not creepy nor am I weird," Piers snaps, a glare forming on his already intimidating face. However, he couldn't keep the glare with the honest grin crossing Leon's face; almost like Piers wasn’t the first person to tell him that. Not the shit eating one Leon usually donned when he was in trouble, but one that actually meant well. "This better not be a waste of my time. I've got better things to be doing."

"Yeah, yeah," Leon says sarcastically with a wave of his hand as he made a sudden stop, which almost causes Piers to bump into the purple haired man at full force if he didn't stop beforehand. "I think this is the right place."

"You think?" questions Piers as he looks at the front of the establishment. They spent the last ten minutes looking for a cafe that some strange girl works at or frequents often. The outside of the cafe itself was quaint enough, it had a few tables and chairs for outdoor lounging and Piers could only imagine what the inside looked like.

"You coming?" Leon asks, pulling the rockstar out his thoughts. The champion was holding the door for the pale male, which causes him to blush and enter the establishment. The inside was rustic with its warm browns, taupes, and creams filling the place. The place honestly reminded Piers of the buildings in Turffield.

"Lee!" came an excited female voice, which pulls the Dark type trainer out of his thoughts. Man, what was up with him and his thoughts today? The female voice seems to cause a strange Pokemon to jump into Leon's arms, causing the said male to laugh in amusement. Why does the Pokemon look like a creepy doll?

"Come on Banette, back to your mother," Leon says with a smile as the Pokemon let out an excited cry before returning to its trainer.

"Geez, I know you're excited to see him, but not in front of so many people, it's embarrassing," the same female voice said, scolding her Pokemon like an actual child. The talking female had long blond hair that was tucked into a black beanie, dark brown, almost black eyes, and extremely fair skin that put Piers' to shame. Almost immediately, Piers could tell that her hair wasn't naturally blond, due to the darker roots peeking out from under her beanie. "Anyways, I'm glad you got here at a decent time. You and your sense of direction is absolutely shit, Leon."

"Only ten minutes late. I think that's a new record," Sonia teases as she looks down at the time on her phone.

"Definitely a new record, I'll say," laughs Nessa as she sipped on her drink.

"I do not get lost," Leon counters with a grin as he leads Piers to sit with them. Not like the rockstar had a choice in the matter, anyways. Raihan, Nessa, and Sonia were all familiar to him, Leon included; so why was the faux blond female the only stranger to him? Piers would certainly remember someone with blond hair and such a unique Pokemon.

"Oh, Piers, this is Marionette," Raihan said as the said girl shyly waved at the rockstar before returning to her conversation with Nessa and Sonia.

"Not going to bother introducing me, eh?" Piers grumbles as he rests his chin on the palm of his hand, seemingly bored. He was ready to go home and be productive, not. Piers would have wasted his day away, sleeping, if Leon hadn't barged into his home in Spikemuth at 8:30 that morning.

"She already knows who you are, dumbass," Raihan sighs with a shake of his head.

"Not only is she a big fan of your music, but she also used to be a gym leader," Leon was the one to speak this time, causing Piers to look at him curiously, indicating for the champion to continue. "Stow-on-Side Gym to be exact. She retired a few months ago, though."

"Quit acting like I'm not here," Marionette retorts sarcastically as she turns in her chair to face the three men, who looked like deer caught in headlights. The three women giggled after sharing a knowing look. "I retired from being a gym leader because I wanted to pursue other things. Allister is doing a fine job running the gym, don't you think?"

"I didn't say anything, though," says Piers, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"You didn't have to," the faux blond female states with a small smile on her face. "Your face said it all. Ness, Sonia, would you like to join me for some shopping?" A string of 'hell yeah' and 'obviously,' choruses throughout the small group of females as they got up and waved at the men when they finally left the cafe after getting new drinks for the road.

"Is she always that cryptic?" Piers mutters as he watched the retreating figures of the three females through the window of the cafe, his head now laying on the table. They were a strange group of friends, Piers had to admit. Hell, if Leon and Raihan could befriend Piers, they could befriend someone as strange as Marionette.

"She's been like that since we were kids," Leon says, a frown on his usually bright face. "Marionette predicted the gender of Mum's baby when she was 3 months pregnant with Hop."

"Maybe she said it to fuck with your Mum?" Raihan counters with a nervous chuckle.

"We were five."

"Really?"

"Really," says Leon, sipping on the cup of overly sweet coffee that he had gotten when the two arrived. "There was no way she could've known that my mother was pregnant with Hop. She had just moved here from Kanto."

"She isn't from here?" Piers asks, as he had been quietly listening to the conversation between the two colored males. "But her accent."

"It's fake for the most part, yeah?" Raihan hums to himself, causing Leon to nod. "I wouldn't know, though. I only met her a couple of months ago."

"Where at?" Piers asks, humming slightly in interest. He didn't bother picking up his head, as he found himself comfortable.

"We met through Nessa, though," Raihan says with a matching hum. He has a distant look on his face, which looks odd on Raihan's usually cocky features. "Marionette said she participated in the Gym Challenge ten years ago. Which is strange, because I would remember seeing someone as unique as her."

#piers #pokemon piers #pokemon swsh #pokemon #piers x oc #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon oc

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hes-writer · 5 years

Text

One Of My Own (3)

Summary: Harry falls out of love

Warnings: angst, fluff

Word Count: 6.5k

Before you read: so the whole pt3 won’t fit in this one post. i’ll be posting the other part tmr, but for now, please enjoy this [badly] written piece. i think i just got too in my head with trying to keep up to standards so i don’t think its the best writing i’ve done. ENJOY! (ps this is unedited)

It had been an excruciatingly agonizing past few months for Y/N. All of her assumptions had been proven true, and nothing hurts more than hoping and praying for days that what you presumed isn’t true, but life sometimes likes to take you by surprise hitting you square in the face. It obviously took a toll on her; not only emotionally, but also mentally and physically.

Her mind was an on-going cycle of paranoia and she couldn’t stop her heart from beating so hard every time someone she knew made a promise to her. Maybe Y/N had trust issues—it was a probable outcome—and it made her a little more hesitant when meeting new people, made her brain hurt from ruminating if what they intended with her was what they really showed.

Physiologically, it was as if her heartstrings had been stretched, pulled to their extent and it had broken—she felt like she could really die from a broken heart. A vast hole in her chest sucked in gallons of energy from her; she was tired. Y/N was exhausted of being used and abused over and over again–she couldn’t handle another blow, especially after Harry made the ultimate heartbreaking move by switching her for Daniella. There was a void in her that couldn’t be filled by anything, regardless of how much she tried. It seemed that only Harry and his love had the power to do that. Y/N knew that she shouldn’t even *consider giving Harry another chance with her, but she was extremely desperate to be fixed: to be normal again and most importantly, to not feel alone.

It was pathetic, really. Some people wouldn’t consider giving their ex a second chance, but here was Y/N daydreaming about what they could be doing now instead of hating his guts. She dozes off in the distance more frequently, chin in her hand while she stared at the empty space in front of her during lecture. In her mind, there was a screen that played happy times of her and Harry. Both of their faces glowing from the wide grins set on their faces. Her eyes were glowing and she could imagine that Harry’s green ones were filled with adoration meant for her and her only. It was a torturous move to let herself envision the good moments when in reality, Y/N looked and felt like the complete opposite of what she wanted to be.

Y/N was isolated from the world. It was a gradual process; she didn’t even notice how detached she became until her phone lit up in messages from her friends asking her if she could ‘hang out’ or some concerned emails about her health and well-being. That was the moment when Y/N discerned that she wasn’t the same person that she used to be with Harry. She could feel her whole being slipping into the abyss she once stood in before meeting him, and she didn’t know what to do. Would it be fair for her to live a fake, plastic life pretending to be happy with Harry when all she wanted to do was to yell at him and punch his chest to somehow project the pain she was feeling physically? Or would she rather live a life quarantined from the world even when she was surrounded by people who cared for her? (Did they really?)

As stereotypical as it sounded, it was as if everyone but Y/N was living life to the fullest. Even though some were breaking at the seems, they still held it together and plastered a fake smile whereas Y/N could feel her brows start to crease when a person began to tap her shoulder. Conversations were disappearing from her domain, and with that came interaction with people. Like she said, Y/N wasn’t the same because of him.

The version of herself that she personified when Harry brought out the ‘best’ in her had vanished into the wild; lost and hard to find. That person will never come back because things can never be the same no matter how much she wished for it—no matter how hard he prayed for it if he did. Sometimes Y/N wondered if Harry had changed–obviously, he did, otherwise, they would still be together right now– if he still slept on the right side of the bed. If he still pushed away his Brussel sprouts–surprisingly– because he was known as a health nut. Y/N questioned if he acted the same with Daniela.

It hurt to think about it, honestly. Although Y/N could reminisce the sweet moments, it soon becomes overshadowed by the image of Harry and her sister. She wondered if he held Daniela tightly to his chest at night because he was having a nightmare. He woke up in a sweat a handful of times, sitting up on the bed with his shirt drenched in sweat. His eyes were wild but glossy with incoming tears and he would look at Y/N staring at him with the utmost worry in her eyes. He would hug her, then, cradle her tight in his strong arms and whispered how much he was afraid to lose her. She wondered if it was the same with Daniela.

—–

It had been six months. Ironically, Y/N and Harry were together for six months, and in the exact same time, they broke up six months ago. They would’ve been celebrating their one year anniversary. Upon seeing the date that day, Y/N couldn’t help but let it affect her– as much as it shouldn’t have— because it reminded her of a ‘what if’. What if she nipped the growing distance between them right at the bud? What if she became more courageous and let herself run the thoughts running through her head? What would’ve happened if she sat the both of them down and confronted them about how she felt? Things surely would’ve been different and Y/N sometimes wished for a second chance at it.

Six months had passed since Y/N’s parents had seen their daughter. Their divorce had been finalized and they were officially separated. It was a mutual decision; their feelings weren’t the same and they were aware of it. It was best to split before things could escalate and they’d only hurt each other. They remained friends, however, because they had a family after all and they still needed to keep communication with each other regarding their children. Y/N’s parents reminded her of her and Harry’s relationship; they walked away before it got worse, except it wasn’t mutual and it definitely got worse way before they split. And it was only Harry who tainted the relationship with infidelity–emotional cheating was what they called it.

Parental concern was heavy in the household and Marga (Y/N’s mom) had contacted Robert (Y/N’s dad) because she was worried about their daughter. It had been a while since she reached out to them. There was no news heard from her and any parent would freak just by the thought of it. Marga contacted her daughter when Y/N was out of class; she had Y/N’s schedule, but she never answered. It rang sometimes, but recently it was always directed to voicemail, almost as if she didn’t want anybody reaching her. Robert, on the other hand, had suspicions as to why Y/N was acting this way. He wasn’t certain, but his hunch had been so strong that he couldn’t let but let Daniela and Harry’s name slip up

***

“Do you remember that boy, Harry?” Robert asked, sitting at the other end of the dining table from his ex-wife.

“Dani’s boyfriend?” Robert couldn’t help but shake his head.

“No, he came with Y/N for Christmas remember?”

“Do you think he’s got something to do with it?” Marga gasped out, hands flying to cover her opened mouth. She was already thinking the worst of Harry despite knowing him fairly well as Daniela’s boyfriend.

On the other side of the wall, Carlos sharpened his hearing to catch all the words his parents were saying. He was the only person whom Y/N kept in contact with the family. She had explained to what had happened in a phone call one night. Carlos answered the house phone when it rang urgently when he got home from school and heard his sisters’ broken voice through the speaker. He was alarmed– as any sibling would be– Y/N sounded absolutely distraught and she couldn’t stop the sobs sputtering out of her mouth, just like the words of the events flowed out as well.

Carlos felt anger and confusion. He knew that his other sister (Daniela) was sinister in a sense. She got what she wanted because she shoved everyone out of the way. She did it to him and she did it the most with Y/N. Carlos was the one that held her older sister in her arms when Daniela emerged victorious *again from capturing something that was Y/N’s first. He really shouldn’t be surprised by the news that Harry had gone for Dani.

Y/N and Carlos were probably the closest duo in their family of five and he had listened to Y/N gush about Harry multiple times. They texted each other like they were the best of friends and he sent a puking emoticon every time Y/N swooned over something Harry did; all joking of course. Carlos felt like he knows Harry, even though they haven’t met– the first being Christmas holidays when his favorite sister spent most of her time wallowing in her childhood bedroom. He knew that Harry was good to Y/N because she said so and he honestly hadn’t seen Y/N have as much fun as she did when she was with him. But seeing the way he acted with Dani during the holidays– he should’ve known that Dani was capable of hurting Y/N to the point where it was horrifying.

Carlos thought that it was impossible to hate somebody, much less your own flesh and blood but he was pretty close to detesting Daniela because of her actions. She was–in his own words– an evil step-sister that cared for nobody else but herself. In summary, hearing his parents formulate a theory about Y/N’s disappearance was hard because all he wanted to do was burst out of his hiding spot and yell out the reason why she was being like this.

It’s your other daughter’s fault, Carlos thought and he wasn’t one bit ashamed to reveal that he doesn’t consider Dani a sister anymore. And he knows that once their parents find out, they would put her through hell before accepting Dani again. They were fair models and they reprimanded Daniela back when she was in high school; it would be a repeat.

——

To say that Y/N was disconnected was an understatement. She was so cut off from everybody that she didn’t even know that Daniela had started studying in the same university as her. And God, did it take her by surprise when she saw her sisters’ head of hair, leaning against a guy while she bent over laughing. The flirtatious look in her eyes was strong enough that Y/N could see it from where he hid behind a pole.

What is she doing here? Y/N thought. Dani should’ve been out of the country by now, continuing her travels. But apparently not because she was standing right there and oh.

Harry walked up the stone path towards Dani, books in hand while he greeted her with a smile. He should’ve finished his History lecture by now. Before, Y/N would wait for him under the big oak tree beside the History building and they would lean their backs against it while they relaxed. Now, Y/N watched as Daniela stood under said tree while Harry pulled out a blanket from his bag to lay on the ground for them to sit on.

———-

It wasn’t always like this. Harry and Daniela were seated under the oak tree beside the History building and Y/N remembered how they would lean their backs against it while they relaxed. Now, Y/N watched as Daniela stood under said tree while Harry pulled out a blanket reminded that this was Y/N’s tree. This was the spot where she frequented in and where he found himself wandering too in hopes to see the beautiful girl again. And that woman became his girlfriend weeks later.

Harry shook his head in distress when he found himself reaching far back in his memories to play Y/N’s smiling face at him. Also, Daniela’s voice was steadily raising against his ear because apparently she’d been talking to him for a few minutes now and he hadn’t responded in a timely manner.

That was one of the things that rubbed Harry the wrong way. No matter what, Dani always found a way to start a shouting match between the two of them. He didn’t know if she thrived off of their fights (because they make up in the best ways) or if she just genuinely enjoyed pissing Harry off. Harry was a bit tired of its redundancy–the fights. It was all so unnecessary and sought after the tiniest things and he couldn’t handle it. He’d taken it upon himself to subtract himself from the room because his anger was about to reach a new level over Dani yelling at him for not telling her that she had a mustard stain on the side of her lip. He honestly didn’t even see the stain, but she had reprimanded him for ‘wanting to embarrass [her] in front of everybody.’

He knew that he shouldn’t but he can’t help but compare Dani to Y/N; a reminder of what he did before he decided to leave the latter. Comparing them was sort of like second nature to him. They were sisters, it was kind of hard not to pick on Dani’s exceptional talents where Y/N’s lacked, and how Y/N was much kinder than Dani. Y/N wouldn’t have shouted at him and probably would’ve laughed it off with him.

There he goes again, thinking about his ex like she was the best thing that ever happened to him–maybe she was though and he just didn’t see it yet. But he was bending backward and forwards weighing out the pros and cons of each relationship as if he still had a chance with Y/N. He was such a fool to let her down like that.

There was no verbal evidence that they broke up, but they both knew they did. The kiss they shared was the last one they’ll ever have with each other. With that single touch of their lips, an over-pouring load of emotions was drained from the thickest parts of their veins and coursed through each others’ in exchange to remember each other by. He was such a fool to hurt somebody the way that he did to Y/N and Harry was slowly coming to the realization that Y/N was the better Y/L/N.

———–

“Do you feel guilty sometimes?” Harry questioned in a ghostly voice. His eyes piercing a hole in the television screen while his mind became fuzzy.

Daniela looked up to his face from her position on Harry’s chest.

“Guilty? About what?”

“About us,”

“Why would I be guilty about us?” She asked, sitting up on the couch to look at him clearly. The brown blanket falls on the floor.

Harry gulped seeing his girlfriend’s stern eyes staring at him.

“I-it’s just,” He began, “What we did to Y/N was pretty shitty,”

Dani pursed her lips in acknowledgment. “Don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Harry. She’s probably used to it,” Dani answered, wanting the conversation to end right then and there.

“But don’t you think we should check in on her or something?” Harry tried to explain. “It’s been a while and I think it’s time we all talk,”

“What are you saying? You want to see her? Or maybe you want to get back together with her?” Dani continuously raised her voice at him. She was throwing accusations and jumping into conclusions with a far reach. “You’re going to leave me for her, aren’t you?

Harry gasped at her last statement, immediately shaking his head ‘no’ that made him dizzy. His hands shoot up from their resting position on his lap to grasp Dani’s flailing arms, trying to calm her down.

“No, of course not. I just thought it would be nice and all,”

“I can’t believe this,” Dani stands up, slightly pacing against the rug of her living room.

Harry copied her actions, his full height causing her to be intimidated, but she didn’t show it.

“What?”

And for a moment, Daniela almost spilled everything she worked hard for. “After everything, you still want to be with her?”

“I didn’t say that,” He was getting frustrated by the way she was acting and he couldn’t put his finger on it. “I told you, I feel guilty,”

“Guilty? You’re feeling guilty for Y/N?” She exasperated. “For that bitch?”

He furrowed his brows from the language. He didn’t expect Dani to use it, nor did he have a clue as to why she would describe Y/N as such.

“Why would you call her that?”

Fear flashed in Dani’s eyes and she had to come up with something believable before he found out the truth.

“Y/N, … she was very mean to me when we were younger,” Dani sat down on the couch. Harry urged her on to continue, assuming that this was a hard thing for Dani to talk about but really she was just stalling to get her story straight. “She got everything she wanted,”

“I really don’t see why you woul–”

“No! She got everything. She stole my friends, my boyfriends. She got everybody’s attention and I know she had you first but you chose me in the end,” Dani cuts him off. “Y/N’s not even here but she’s taking you away from me,”

Harry was confused. He could never imagine Y/N being as cruel as Dani had described her to be. After their lengthy relationship, all he saw of her was a genuine lady that couldn’t even hurt a fly. I guess I really didn’t know her, Harry thought.

“She really did that?”

Dani nodded, wiping away a fake stray tear. “I don’t know what I did to her and I asked her to stop but she still did it,”

“I don’t want to lose you too, Har” He pressed a kiss on the top of her head, leaning in for a hug that she voluntarily engulfed herself in. “I love you,”

“I love you too.”

It was a white lie from Daniela. She didn’t want to lose Harry, but it wasn’t because she loved him. Hell, no. After everything lengths and measure she went through just to take him away from Y/N, you would think that it was the action of someone in love. Not Dani, her actions had a completely different meaning and that was to hurt Y/N as much as she can.

Being older meant that Dani always got shit blamed for things she didn’t do and she’s had enough of it. When she came home from school with a ‘C-’ printed test paper in hand, her head was hung in shame. Her parents scolded her like no tomorrow and she could still hear their voices echoing in the back of her head. Then, not minutes later did Y/N enter the room with the same mark printed on her paper and she got nothing but praised for how much she ‘did her best’ and that they were proud of her.

Daniela was enraged, to say the least. Everything she did wrong, Y/N got a free pass if she did the same thing and it wasn’t fair. Y/N had the nerve to not see what was going on and that made Dani really angry. So, she studied twice as hard to get better marks but she didn’t improve the way she’d like. Dani was getting impatient because Y/N was acquiring A’s left and right, and Dani didn’t know how many celebration dinners she could handle of her parents telling her to ‘be more like Y/N’.

Her last result was to cheat; she got better marks then. At first, she felt guilty, but there was something exhilarating in getting caught but she thought that *that feeling wouldn’t compare to when she sees her parents’ face when she hands them the paper. Except, they barely gave her a second glance, as if they didn’t care. It was heartbreaking for Dani. Especially when on that day, her parents proposed to eat dinner at a restaurant and she thought that it was a surprise celebration for her, but it turned out to be Y/N’s night. Again.

Maybe it was immature for her to act the way she did, but nothing could ever erase the hurt she felt. In Dani’s mind, Y/N deserved everything that she did to her. Stealing her boyfriends? Sure, it probably hurt, but it wasn’t the same as seeing their own parents’ eyes look at Y/N as if she was some saint when she corrected her mistakes when Y/N did the exact same thing.

———

Y/N was a ghost, not only in a sense that she didn’t really speak to anyone but also as if everybody could see right through her. She guessed that her face permanently withheld a somber expression because people would give her sympathetic looks when she walked down the large hallway. One professor even pulled her aside to speak to her about her dropping grades, asking if there was anything going on at home that could’ve triggered this change.

Everybody was treating her like she was fragile and she was absolutely sick of it. It was a reach, but it reminded her of the way Harry treated her when they were still together. He was the most gentle person towards her and her melted every time his voice caressed her ears.

“Hello, want to be partners?” A questioned interrupted Y/N from her thoughts.

“Uh, for what?”

The boy looked at her curiously as if he was trying to see if she was being serious or not. “Because the prof said to find a partner and I noticed that you didn’t have one so,”

Y/N blinked at him when he trailed off, heading leaning to behind his body to see that, indeed, the monitor read, “Find a partner”

“Oh, sure” She replied, ducking down to pull out a notebook which she should’ve taken out ages ago. Y/N could still see the boy’s legs, unmoving in front of her. “You can sit, you know.”

“Of course, I’m Niall by the way,” He introduced himself and Y/N detects a hint of an accent.

“Y/N,” It was a simple response, and maybe she was a bit rude but she really couldn’t be bothered to acquaint with somebody new.

Niall was observant beside her. From her peripherals, he could see him intently listening to the instructions being given and she really should be doing the same but Y/N can’t help but observe his features. A twinge occurred inside her chest and she was briefly reminded of when her eyes looked at Harry’s face while he was still asleep. Y/N shook her head and faced the front completely.

“So what topic do you want to do?”

“Maybe defense mechanisms? That sounds interesting.”

“Sure!” Niall exclaimed, scribbling the topic down on his own notebook. The scrawls of pen on paper echoing against Y/N’s ears.

The professor dismissed the class before another word could be spoken between the two of them. Y/N gathers all of her belongings as quickly as she could, wanting to flop on her bed instead of being surrounded by people.

She just made it out of the door and into the hallway when she heard Niall yell her name. From the distance, Harry whipped his head towards the noise and his eyes search for Y/N.

“Y/N, Y/N, wait!” Niall was hopping on his toes, trying to catch up to her but she already paused her movements. She slightly smiled at his actions, having not done so in a long time.

Harry watched from meters away, seeing Y/N and Niall talk to each other. A pain in his chest knocked his breath out when he saw Y/N handing her phone to Niall.

“Hey! Gosh you’re quick,” Niall panted in front of her. “Can I get your number? Need ‘ta know when to work on this assignment,”

Y/N nodded but not before assessing him suspiciously; that was exactly what Harry said to her when he asked for her number. She had to reprimand herself for thinking about him again, handing her phone to Niall.

She watched as his thumbs tapped against the letters on the keyboard.

“Wait, take a picture of me for my photo,” Niall hands her back her phone, starting to pose while Y/N comprehends the situation. “It’s hard to remember me, got one of those faces,”

Y/N chuckled lightly at his joke, but she could also detect a serious undertone. The screen captures Niall’s smiling face and she shows it to him for approval.

“Nice, your turn,” Y/N slapped a smile on her face, and she felt like it was a genuine one at that.

“I’ll see you around, Ni”

“Ni? We’re on a nickname basis now, eh?” He said, nudging her side with his shoulder. Y/N giggles before bidding a final goodbye.

Both men watch Y/N walk away. Niall’s eyes linger on her for a few more seconds, feeling the energy around him deteriorate with Y/N’s presence. He’s been noticing her a lot more often these days; he could see that she was broken inside and even letting out a smile probably felt like carrying a ball and chain on her back. And Niall didn’t want to be some sort of hero that changed her, he was just wanted to see her smile once in a while.

On the other hand, Harry watched his former love exit the building doors. Maybe it was the distance between them, but Y/N looked a lot smaller than he remembered; as if she lost an abundance weight. His brain was trying to figure out if that was really Y/N because it didn’t look like Y/N that he didn’t notice Niall approaching him.

“Hey Harry, what are you doing here?” Niall greeted him with a hug. “You don’t have class in this area,”

“Just waiting for Dani,” Harry explained.

“Ahh thought you got lost again, Styles,”

“Who were you talking to earlier?” Harry asked even though he knew that it was Y/N. He just needed a confirmation.

“That was Y/N, pretty girl, right?” To which Harry was left befuddled. “Say, weren’t you dating a Y/N a while back?”

Harry and Y/N’s relationship was pretty lowkey.

“Yeah, actually” Niall proceeded to ask him what happened between them. “Turn out she wasn’t who I thought she was,”

“What do you mean?”

“She just did some pretty shitty stuff to her sister,”

“The heck? That’s fucked up man, glad you broke it off,”

Harry almost agreed.

—–

Y/N got off the train, her footsteps thudding against the wooden platform. Her bags were beside her and she was reminded of the last time she stepped foot in this place. She swiftly hailed a cab to shield herself from the cold.

Her parents’ house comes into view through the cab window. There was a car in the driveway and she assumed that it was her dad’s since he was living nearby. Her footsteps were slow, reminiscing every moment that played out in front porch; how Harry kissed her with passion before entering the house to entertain Daniela.

Y/N rang the doorbell, hearing thuds from inside the house with the excited yelling of ‘I’ll get it’ from Carlos, probably.

The door swung open before Carlos came into view.

“Y/N! I missed you,” He said, engulfing her into a hug that made her drop her bags on the floor. The comforting feel of her brother’s arms made her feel loved, and the scent of her mom’s cooking wafted to her nose.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she could see her parents approaching them, but not before ushering them inside to prevent frigid air from entering the house. Hugs and exchanges fluttered in the atmosphere, catching up to what each party missed.

“Let’s get you settled in before Harry and Dani come,” Her mom said, picking up one of her bags. That statement made Y/N freeze on the ‘welcome’ mat by the front door.

“Harry’s coming?” She questioned, slowly turning around to face her family as if she was a deer in front of the headlights.

Her parents shared a look before nodding.

“Why’s he coming?” Carlos sneered from beside Y/N, his eyes turning into slits at the thought of *Harry.

“What’s wrong with that? He’s your sister’s boyfriend,” Their mom answered back.

“N-nothing’s wrong! Just surprised is all,” Y/N answered making her way to the stairs.

————-

The second doorbell of the day had rung and being closest to the front door, Y/N was given the task to open it. She was dressed in matching pajamas and she wondered what Harry would think of her outfit. From the kitchen, she could hear her mother ask who was at the door.

Y/N grasped the doorknob tightly, preparing to boast the fakest smile in the world. “Hey guys,” She said, but she faltered when her eyes caught sight of Dani and Harry’s latched hands.

“Dani! Harry! I’m so glad you could come,” To her relief, her dad greets the couple inside.

Y/N takes small footsteps backward, hoping that her absence won’t be noticed.

———————

It was little way before dinner time when Y/N’s parents decided that the cat has to be pulled out of the bad. Y/N had been stuck in her room for the remainder of the day while the rest of them had caught with each others’ lives and bonded for the first time in a while. It was hard not to notice Y/N’s absence especially when she was usually the life of the party.

The moment Marga asked the question, “What’s going on with Y/N”, everybody in the room inhaled a collective breath as if this topic was expected to be brought up sooner or later.

“What do you mean?” Dani asked in a sickly sweet voice, her index finger was twirling a strand of Harry’s curls.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed how much weight she lost,” Robert agreed. ”She looks sick.”

It was true. Y/N hadn’t been eating much since the breakup. It’s not like she purposefully decided to stop eating altogether, she just didn’t have much of the appetite to devour the needed daily intake to keep her looking healthy. Thus, she lost weight without even noticing it, but others’ certainly did. Y/N didn’t even feel sick or anything, not much else actually makes her want to do stuff anymore. Her face was pale as if she hadn’t been outside in months and her eyes have sunken into her cheeks. She was only existing now.

“I think she looks great, even better actually,” Dani murmured. “What? I’m serious, about time she lost some of that weight,”

“Please take this seriously, this is your sister we’re talking about,”

“Aren’t we always talking about her,” Dani huffed, rolling her eyes and a gasp could be heard throughout the room. Harry tries to shush, to which she shrugged the hand off of her shoulder.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll come to us if she needs help,” Harry answered, biting his lip to prevent him from saying anything more. Dani nodded in agreement with him, absolutely done with this talk.

“That’s a good idea. I guess you’re right, Harry,”

"I can’t believe you’re still letting him in this house after what he–they did to Y/N last time," Carlos scoffed, sitting up more comfortably on the couch cushions, “Harry left Y/N for Daniella and they don’t even feel guilty about it! She’s upstairs grieving right now while you guys don’t even care,”

Their parents are rendered speechless, instructing Carlos to check in on Y/N while they talk to Harry and Daniela. “Is it true? Harry nods. “Did you really have to do this again, Daniela?”

“Do what?” She responded Harry was confused once again.

”You knew Harry and Y/N were together but you stole him away from her like you did before,“ Marga shook her head at her daughter, her heartbreaking even more when she thought of the future of her family.

“She didn’t say anything! I thought she was fine with it,” Daniel defended herself, putting her hand up and sitting. Harry was shocked by the information.

“How could anyone be okay with that? And you, what kind of sick person are you?” Harry looked up to Robert, feeling like a small child being scolded.

“W-what do you mean like she did before?” He couldn’t have prepared himself for what was to come next.

Marga sighed, head shifting from Harry to her daughter, “Every guy Y/N’s been with, Dani always somehow steals them away from her,” Harry gulped at the extent of his actions. “We’ve talked about it before because I was sick of seeing my other daughter cry herself to sleep for a guy that left her,”

"Oh boohoo, it’s not my fault they want me more than her,” Dani picks on a manicured finger. Harry was appalled by her snide comment and he finds himself comparing the two sisters once again. Y/N would never say anything like that and this time for sure, there were no doubts in his head.

“She never said anything but it hurt her so much that she didn’t want to introduce anybody to you,” Robert admitted in a somber tone. "She was so scared that you’ll find a way to take it away from her– her happiness. We didn’t even know about Harry and now we know why,”

Everything was silent, even Harry’s thoughts stopped their hustling and bustling and he swore his heart could burst with guilt.

“Are you saying it’s my fault?“

“Yes, she’s your sister. You shouldn’t hurt her like this,” Harry quipped.

Dani gasped incredulously, “You’re taking her side now? God, why can’t she just stick up for herself for once!”

At this moment, Harry disconnected himself from the conversation. He was drifted off to the beginning of he and Y/N’s relationship; why Y/N never introduced Dani to him, nor did she speak about her. He was made aware of why she was so closed off from everyone when they first met and why it took a long time for them to get together– all because she was afraid and insecure of her sister.

And really, he can’t even blame Y/N for feeling this way. It must be so traumatic knowing that everything was done on purpose. Every horrendous action was done in the sole mission of hurting her. Harry felt bad, so bad that he wanted nothing more but to take her into his arms and never let her go. He would tell her that she was special and whisper sweet things in her ear– but he knew that she would never let her.

“We never raised you to be like this. You were aware of your actions but you still went through with them.” Marga spoke, “Are you that selfish?”

“So what if I am?” Dani retorted, biting back from her mom’s harsh words.

“Get out,” Robert said. Marga touched his shoulder, silently asking him to calm down and rethink his thoughts.

“Are you serious?“ and Harry himself was mute throughout.

“Family doesn’t hurt each other on purpose but you’ve done the worst to your own sister.” Her dad explained, “For now, I’m asking you to please leave until you’re ready to apologize to her,”

“You’re really pulling that one out? Then why did you and mom get a divorce, is it because you don’t love her anymore?” Dani aggravated. “Or you don’t feel the same way about him?”

Y/N silently tiptoes down the stairs with Carlos right behind her, hearing Daniela utter, “You guys act like you’re saints when you’re not!”

“I think that’s enough,” Y/N interrupted. Dani scoffed, “Look who it is, are you here to kiss their ass again?”

“I’m not and I never did,”

“That’s bullshit. And you,” She pointed at their parents, ”You really thought you were doing something, huh? Well, guess what, you guys really fucking suck and mom, did you know that your ex-husband here as a new family?”

Y/N warned Daniela again. “What? Don’t like hearing that dad has a new princess?”

“I said that’s enough,” Y/N balled her hands into fists, keeping them busy for the meanwhile.

“Can’t accept that you’ll always be the second choice? To dad and to sweet little, Harry?” Dani teased her in a mocking tone, lightly tapping her fingers on Harry’s arm as if she was taunting her. “How does it feel to know that he left you for me?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Y/N walked up to Dani, hand raising in the air to gain momentum for the hit that was about to come. Dani glanced up from looking at Harry’s face to be met with Y/N’s palm striking her square on the cheek. The sound of skin to skin reverberating in the otherwise silent room.

Dani gasped, “Mom! Dad! Harry, say something. She just slapped me,”

Harry speaks up, “I think you should leave,”

“I can’t believe you,” Dani rasped out, “You’re weak, Harry”

“At least I don’t hurt my own family,”

“That may be, but I’ll get over it,” She said while collecting her stuff. It was easier since all her luggage was left by the front door, unpacked. “Y/N here, however, probably won’t even forgive you for cheating,”

She tapped on Y/N’s cheeks, giving a mocking a smile before waving goodbye to her parents. Dani;’s figure disappears from view and they could faintly hear her put her shoes on. The door creaks open and slams in a matter of seconds.

Y/N lets out a deep exhale, eyes glancing up at her family and Harry. She pursed her lips, nodding at the events before heading upstairs once again. “Call me when dinner’s ready,”

A pregnant pause took place, both Marga and Robert heading to the kitchen to clear their thoughts and continue preparing and cooking the meal for tonight. It was only Harry and Carlos in the living room.

“Harry, who do you love?”

It caught him off-guard but one thing was for sure. He didn’t hesitate to let her name escape his lips.

“I love Y/N,”

————–

ugh,, please give me feedback (even if it’s about how bad this is)

permanent taglist; @ynm1505 @kissme-hs @agoddamnmango @harrys-kingdom @calums-sugarbaby @queenbeestuffs @ashkuuuu @kettxo @send-me-styles @ofpeppermintbay @littledreamybeth @trustfulhaz @harrysfeastedflower

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myeverythingisyourstruly · 4 years

Text

Lucid Dream

Anonymous said: “Can you do a fix it where Richie finds a way to get Eddie back from the afterlife?”

(Btw I was listening to Mirrors by Justin Timberlake while writing this)

“Richie...Richie...Richie, wake up!”

Richie’s eyes sprung open and he took in the blurry view of his surroundings.

White walls, a white ceiling, and white floors.

He slowly sat up in his chair, which he had been laying in an awkward position, and rubbed his eyes. As he put on his glasses his vision became clearer and he looked up to see Beverly hovering over him.

“Are you okay? You were whimpering in your sleep.” She looked concerned.

“I’m fine. Any news?”

“Nope. Nothing.”

Richie and the rest of the losers were currently in Derry’s local hospital.They had defeated Pennywise for the last time but it had come at a cost. Eddie barely made it out alive. There was no guarantee he would pull through.

The cards had been dealt and fate was playing out in real time.

After waiting for what seemed to be hours a young doctor approached the group with a sad look in her eyes. Everyone stood up and braced for the worst.

“You’re all here for Eddie Kaspbrak?”

They nodded.

The doctor went into an explanation of how Eddie’s surgery was successful however he had lost a lot of blood and fell into a coma. He wasn’t breathing on his own so they had to put him on a ventilator.

Richie’s stomach dropped and he put his hand over his mouth as he felt that same nauseous feeling he had when Mike first called him to come back to Derry. He made it to the nearest bathroom just in time and emptied his stomach.

Ben was the one to check on Richie this time and informed him they were allowed to see Eddie but only one at a time. They all agreed Richie should go first.

Seeing Eddie all hooked up on machines and looking not so Eddie-like was the scariest thing Richie had ever seen; scarier than any shape or form that demonic clown ever took.

Richie cleared his voice before speaking.

“The doctors said they weren’t sure if you could hear me but I’m gonna talk to you anyways Eds...I hope that’s okay.”

For some strange reason Richie was waiting for Eddie to jump up and say “don’t call me that!” but of course he never did. Richie started tearing up.

“Eddie you gotta wake up man. You didn’t come this far just to die on me. I know you can fight your way back, you just gotta try. I’ll be right here with you.”

Richie instinctively placed his hand on the side of Eddie’s unharmed cheek and stroked his face gently. He turned around to see Bill watching him with a solemn expression and pulled his hand away.

“I’m sorry I just wanted to c-check up on you.”

“It’s fine I know you guys wanna see him too.”

Bill placed his hand on Richie’s shoulder and squeezed. “You know he’s gonna be okay, right?”

“I hope so.” Richie quietly sniffed.

The minutes turned into hours as each loser took a turn to sit with Eddie. Eventually the sun started to descend and nightfall was present. The losers decided to go back to the Inn and freshen up, maybe eat some dinner but Richie wanted stay at the hospital. Beverly promised to come back and check on the two of them tomorrow.

Although Richie was exhausted he couldn’t fall asleep so he did what he did best. He talked.

With his head laying in Eddie’s lap, careful not to mess with any tubes or wires, he softly recounted childhood memories.

“Hey Eds, do you remember when I would spend the night at your house and wake you up with silly string? You thought it was the most annoying, unsanitary thing but I did it anyway...”

Eddie wasn’t gone. He was stuck between heaven and hell, a place you go before your soul's fate is officially decided. Unfortunately for Eddie this place was a deserted version of Derry.

It was complete silence as he walked in the middle of the road. No cars, no kids outside playing, no nothing. He didn’t know how long he had been here or even how he got here but that didn’t matter now. All he could do was continue walking until a clue presented itself.

And this is when he stumbled upon the kissing bridge. Except he wasn’t alone anymore.

Eddie could see a small figure kneeling on the ground but he couldn’t quite make out who it was or what they were doing. As he moved closer he realized it was Richie but he was a kid again. How does this make sense?

The closer he got he could see what Richie was doing, carving something into the bridge with a knife. But it seemed as if Ritchie hadn’t noticed him at all, as if Eddie was invisible.

“...Richie? What are you doing?”

Richie didn’t turn around. He continued on until he was done and he stood up to overlook his sketchings. Once he was satisfied he got on his bike and petaled away.

“Wait!” Eddie yelled. He turned around to see what Richie had engraved in the wood and gasped.

R + E

Eddie felt a flood of emotions hit him and wasn’t sure whether he wanted to cry or laugh or scream. Was this some sick joke? Did this really happen in the past? Why was he seeing this now?

And then it hit him. Everything that had transpired since he stepped foot in Derry. The reunion between the losers (who he had previously forgotten existed), defeating Pennywise, and getting stabbed.

“Am I dead?”

All of a sudden a familiar voice rang out. “Hey Eddie! Come with me!”

He looked up to see young Richie again on the other side of the bridge, smiling with his bike in his hands.

All Eddie could do was stare, frozen in place.

Richie laughed. “C’mon spaghetti! What are you waiting for? Come with me!”

The lines of reality and dream were starting to blur as Eddie realized young Richie’s voice was mixing with older Richie’s voice. That got him to move closer and closer until he took off in a full sprint.

Eddie’s heart was beating wildly as if it was calling out a signal.

I love him.

I love Richie Tozier.

The next morning Richie was woken up by a nurse. His neck was stiff and he had dried up tears that stained his glasses and under eyes. The nurse nicely asked him to leave so they could do a check up on Eddie.

When he went out to the main floor the losers were just walking in.

“Rich, you look awful. Did you get any sleep?”

“Thanks Bev, I slept like a baby.” Richie deadpanned.

Beverly cringed. “Sorry. How’s Eddie?” she handed a cup of hot coffee to Richie who sighed after taking the first sip.

“I don’t know, the nurse is checking on him now.”

The losers tried to make themselves as comfortable as possible and struck up conversation with each other while waiting to see Eddie. Richie on the other hand was zoning out their voices, thinking about his one-way conversation with Eddie last night.

“...I know this is a sensitive subject for you but you don’t have to worry about Myra. If that’s not the life you want then I’ll help you. You can come with me and we’ll have fun on our own, just like old times. I just want you to come with me Eddie, it doesn’t matter where as long as we walk out of here together...”

“Guys.”

Everyone’s attention turned towards Richie and they waited patiently for him to continue.

Richie swallowed the lump in his throat and closed his eyes. “I love- I love Eddie. I’m in love with him. Ever since we were kids I’ve loved him.”

When he opened them everyone was smiling. Beverly reached her hand out to hold Richie’s. “That’s a beautiful thing. Hold on to that.”

Richie could finally breathe a sigh of relief at finally admitting to his best friends and to himself that he absolutely loved Eddie Kaspbrak.

A few minutes later a nurse approached the group. She looked happy, with rosy cheeks that filled her entire smile.

“Your friend Eddie is awake.” Everyone gasped. “And he’s asking for someone named Richie.”

Richie shot up from his seat. “T-that’s me. Can I see him?”

“Of course.” the nurse smiled.

Richie opened the door and could hear Eddie softly speaking to one of the nurses. His voice alone had Richie wanting to fall to his knees.

When they made eye contact, Richie couldn’t help but let a little sob come out.

“Eddie.”

“Hey asshole.”

Richie swiftly fell into Eddie’s arms and cried into his neck. Eddie breathed Richie in deeply and tried to keep his tears at bay. They were reunited for a second time in what seemed like forever but this time felt even better.

“How are you awake right now? This is a miracle.” Richie cried.

“I could hear your voice.”

“What?”

Eddie’s big brown orbs stared deeply into Richie’s. “It was like I was in some weird dream and then I could hear you telling me to come with you...and so I did. Then I woke up.”

“Oh my god.” Richie whispered.

“You saved me, Richie.” Eddie gleamed.

Richie leaned his forehead onto Eddie’s and smiled for the first time in days.

“You saved me too.”

#reddie #richie x eddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it chapter 2 #it fandom #it fanfiction #the losers club #adult reddie #fix it fic

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

Text

Bruised | 01 (JB x OC)

Genre: Smut, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life

Pairing: Jaebeom x photographer!OC

Warnings: Allusions to domestic violence, self-harm and depression, inferiority complex, low self-esteem

Summary: After years of not speaking to him, Alistaire is surprised when her childhood friend, Jaebeom, contacts her about the rumour of her returning to Korea. The rumour proves to be true and for a moment everything feels like the good old days.

Yet something has changed in the both of them, but mostly in him. He is not the kid Ali once knew, but someone completely new and with a past. What has happened in the years she was away? What made him turn out like this?

But most of all, can they survive the toxicity unconsciously influencing them both?

Author’s Note: This was originally a Taehyung fic, but I thought I would rewrite and prep it for actual publishing while simultaneously replacing Tae with JB. This is because, otherwise, I will have no connection to (essentially) his character in the tale. Lastly, it is also a splendid opportunity to share the second draft of the novel with you.

Masterlist

Next Chapter

Chapter 1 Alistair

April 7th Year 1

Every face in the extensive swallowing crowd is a blur, nothing distinguishing one person from the next. Meaningless chatter fills the buzzing air lightly scented by the aroma of the sea despite the actual destination being a few miles from the airport where the plane has just landed in a country formerly called ''home''. Truth be told, it has always been called so regardless of the many years spent away from it.

And in that time nothing has remained as it once was, that much is already clear from merely standing here at border control among hundreds of suitcases like the one held firmly on the right side, fingers wrapped around the British travel documents that have formed an escape from a place which is gladly left behind. Happily, a piece of Hell is traded for a slice of the past that is inherently different from what can be remembered, even though this is logical since this city is alien territory.

Nevertheless, there is one thing from the past that has apparently been continuous: him, the childhood friend that has unsuspectedly been found in a place of old.

One step further towards passing customs, towards getting the Visa checked and that stamp of allowance in the brand new passport containing a name that has been greatly discussed in the news in Korea and in the social circles of Britain, though it shall soon mean as much as the next one.

More waiting, thoughts wandering off to the Siheung mochi shop boy with the slight overbite when smiling and who had been the sole friend during the youth spent carelessly, free of the burdens that would come upon the return to the land of origin.

To the roots of a hellish life.

I wonder if he is still the same or would that be an idle wish?

Years have gone by and in all honesty, it is not to be expected for the lad with caramel skin to be the same because how can he be when both of us have grown up? The answer to the question would not be unknown if only the probably biggest regret in the entire twenty-one years of living did not exist, if only contact was maintained after the move to the United Kingdom.

The one digital conversation that surprisingly happened did not give any clues to go on to use in creating an image of the contemporary version of the companion unwillingly abandoned, so there is next to nothing known about how time and life has treated a best friend turned stranger. How the silent period apart has shaped character and shall influence the reunion on the horizon.

Another advance temporarily breaks the reverie to step in the direction of the birch counter behind which sits a stern-looking customs authority, blank yet overtly bored expression unwavering while checking the presented papers and finally putting a stamp in the little booklet, parting our ways with a stern nod.

The reminiscence begins again on the way to the hall of arrivals where a familiar comrade is supposedly waiting among the many shops and eateries. The thought that has been gnawing away at common sense continues to feed the sense of guilt which has grown immense due to the days spent apart without any indication as to well-being. Not that it was necessary to talk about since the personal problems would only be a burden to the other party and there was no solution to them until this opportunity arose.

Even a simple greeting was apparently too great a grace.

Mayhaps, if contact had been maintained, disgraced sneakers would not have committed the mistakes they have.

Have been safe from harm.

From lonely pain.

The effects of which were unconsciously pressed upon an absent supporting pillar.

Why did I leave you alone?

A couple of days ago, an extraordinary contact was established by the adult version of a forgotten childish soul by email. The moment weary eyes wandered to the newly arrived message after having answered a few job-related ones, a sharp intake of breath accompanied by a sudden giddiness guided the fingers rapidly sliding over the keyboard to the mousepad to click on the notification, having to make sure it was truly him and confirming it. It was astonishing to learn that the five years older chap still had the personal email address turned into a professional point of contact after all this time.

It meant he still had not forgotten about the one who was forced to go.

The rapid exchange, replying a few moments after one another and hence keeping the conversation flowing, consisted mostly of small talk and a little bit of catching up. The topics were pretty haphazard thanks to the attempt to try and cover as many subjects as possible within what felt like little time. Notwithstanding, it felt as if the childhood friend from Siheung was beating around the bush.

The text in the correspondence from his side contained hints to something bigger, continuously referring to it by words concealing the true intention without ever explicitly saying what wanted to be said. At a certain point, though it could also have been due to the throbbing of the right cheek and the echo of fighting parents downstairs in the salon of the country mansion, impatience overpowered a formerly ecstatic yet calm attitude and the confrontation was met head-on. ‘Beom, is there something you want to say?’

‘Huh? What do you mean?’ Even though the lad’s presence was only felt in the bedroom through the screen, the wondering look that would have appeared on a tanned face could almost be seen. Well, sight perceived the mental picture of Jaebeom as the kid that could look so questioning, so puzzled yet astonished by the world.

When not looking like a big grumpy cat.

It looked like some things still needed to be spelled out, although that tends to happen when it comes to men because some evidently need clarity. Withal, this does not mean that more explicit explanations always lead to positive outcomes. 'It’s just a hunch, but it feels like you have something to say.'

For a solid ten minutes, there was no answer. Henceforth, defeated by the radio hush likely signifying a chance of reconnecting was already lost, the bedchamber also functioning as an office was left in favour of acquiring a warm cup of coffee. Sneakily, to avoid the unworthy bastards roaming the lower floors. Luckily, the mission leading to the kitchen was successful, going back and forth without bumping into anybody.

A moment devoid of unjustified harm.

The relief felt at the fact of having avoided additional damage and the sensation of warmed fingers clamping a steaming mug of caffeine, returning to the room unscathed to a response from halfway across the globe, knows no likeness. It was the smallest yet sole piece of positivity gained in a long while.

Sighing with a hint of delight, a seat on the grey desk chair was once again taken, nipping at the hot drink before reading the received answer. An answer that made the liquid gold almost spill all over the keyboard. 'I heard this rumour about you coming back, so I thought I would pick up contact again. After all, how could I not if my friend will return to Korea? I mean, if it's true of course.'

That word, ''friend'', gave a sliver of hope when regarding it among the rest of the text. After the extended period of not hearing anything from the wrongful side, Jaebeom still considered the friendship established in the mochi shop and strengthened on the streets a long time ago as having survived the often destructive influence of being separated. Even though there was every right to be mad because contact was cut off after the departure.

To leave a worthless girl behind as she had him.

Notwithstanding, that was then and this was the present.

We were still partners in crime, weird as it might have sounded when pondering this thought later on the plane. 'Yes, I am.'

Over the course of the past few months leading to the email, enough money was gathered to be able to afford an own place overseas in South-Korea, in the country where the tale of two estranged saviours began, far from this disgusting house carrying the title of ''home''. Too much hurt had been had here and no more could be tolerated because, if it had not known an end, perchance the razor would have been pulled over the tender skin of the wrists a long time ago. Nonetheless, each day formed a new battle to fight, a new test to see whether the miserable faith in something better waiting in the future was true.

And it was, the long-awaited chance of escape presenting itself after hard work, pulling all-nighters editing photos and long hours contacting people in relation to jobs.

'Going back to Siheung?' Memories of the days our parents would go to the city together and take us with them to walk along the harbour and have a picnic in the Siheung Lotus Theme Park resurfaced, sight obscured by the phantom of lush blooming flowers and genuine laughter filling ears that had heard nothing but spite once the apartment next to Beom's was left behind.

A plausible assumption were it not for the fact it was not the planned destination of return because of the need for new experiences. Besides, a drastic change of life would perhaps keep the demons at bay long enough to figure it all out and find a definitive flight from them. 'No, I’m actually moving to Busan. The sea might do me some good.'

Despite living on a big island, never had the pleasure of living by the sea or any kind of water been experienced. Furthermore, due to the love of the child for the ocean forming part of today's persona, it was rather quickly decided to move to the harbour city of South-Korea.

'Really? I do so happen to live there too.' It was an odd thing to read and had to be reread word by word twice before the meaning of it became clear.

A reunion.

We could see each other again.

The anticipation accompanying the realization made the corners of the mouth curl up into an uncharacteristic delighted smile, the most sincere grin that had been formed in a long time. For all that was known, the boy with skin like honey still lived in the town that held shared memories yet now we had the chance of creating novel ones together as we would begin anew in a foreign place.

We would try again.

Together.

A fresh start with you will hopefully make me forget this hell. You always managed to take the pain away.

'You moved?' Eagerly, the rest of the story behind this sudden revelation was awaited, sipping on the caffeinated beverage of the gods that, naturally, had the opposite effect of the intended goal of bringing calmness to the enthusiastic composure.

'After grandmother passed away we moved to Busan because the south is cheaper. Dad found work there after he was fired.' The tranquillity nullifying the excitement set in, albeit it not thanks to the drink but by means of the curious absent sign of news about the city boy's mother, which struck as rather odd since the cheery lad used to talk about the lovely, according to the brightly told stories, woman all the time. The same went for the grandmother who basically raised Jaebeom, so seeing such a short notice about the dear old lady who always brought handmade mochis to us and made extra ones while we ran around town felt weird as well.

Putting the half-empty ceramic cup aside and with a sense of oppressing hollowness, the part that felt alive ignited the ideas of being to blame for not being there when a friend was obviously needed to help deal with the sorrow. Digits hovered above the keys, doubtful of what to write in response since nothing could be deemed sufficient in conveying the sincere apologetic feelings.

Eventually, they settled on typing out the idea that seemed to be the best of them all in that regard. 'I know it is too late, but I'm sorry for your loss. How is your mother?'

'I don't want to talk about it. I can pick you up from Gimhae if you want. You don't want to get lost, do you?' A dark thought occurred and directly it was understood why there was no elaboration on the situation concerning the two women.

They abandoned him as well.

Forced by Death.

A grim repeat of the goodbye nine years ago.

I should have been there for you and I wasn’t. Jaebeom, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But maybe I can make it up to you. I have to.

Maybe over time, there will come a moment to open up to willingly talk about it, but until then there will be no questions for they also have the potential of ruining the chances of righting the unintentional wrongs of the past.

The heavy topic was disregarded in favour of something positive. Skimming over it felt selfish in spite of silently agreeing to do so, especially because of the urge to stay afloat a bit longer. Swim a bit longer in an amiable reality before sinking down the dark spiral again come morn after a night of , hopefully a few hours of nightmare-filled sleep. 'That is much appreciated. Maybe you can show me around the city a bit?'

'I am already looking forward to it. I have to go now, but I'll certainly talk to you later.'

In the days after that digital re-encounter despite the abyss of separating miles, we almost spoke on a daily basis to talk the details of the future journey through, Jaebeom inquiring by mail multiple times like Mother Goose if all the essentials had been packed and at least double checked. Still as caring as always beneath the tough exterior, so it would seem. It felt just like the good old days, as if nothing had changed aside from having grown older.

That was at least already one thing that made it feel like the right decision had been made and gave cause for hoping that many of those tender moments would come to pass.

A correct assumption.

Partially.

Now that work has been taken up as a photographer, there is the freedom of going wherever is desirable. It is unlimited, empowering. And, as it would seem, the road that preluded a return to the only place in the world that could truly be called ''home'', in spite of being the daughter of a British-Irish couple.

Father is an ambassador for the Crown who was stationed in Siheung, where he and his wife bought an apartment in a quiet street filled with independent shops among which was a little rice cake shop run by an old lady. The place where Mother gave birth to a daughter.

It so happened to be close to where Beom lived with his parents and grandmother. Next door, in fact. The tall tough-looking boy with the goofy smile and slight overbite obviously showing when aggravated was the first friend ever made and most likely the only one. Nobody across the seas has ever been deemed worthy to be called thus nor has stayed long enough to even pass the unconscious assessment.

Just before high school would start, Father was called back to England and since his daughter was done with primary school, it was insisted upon a return to the island nation was made. The days in anticipation of the change of scenery were filled with protest, none of them to any avail, because what could a little girl truly accomplish alone? Henceforth, the United Kingdom was travelled back to and ordained the vicious punishment of having to spend the rest of a life that would soon turn miserable there. All the while dreaming of going back someday and escaping the aristocratic hell.

Thanks to an education at home and the embassy, where a private teacher was hired to provide lessons, it was possible to skip a year in high school since the mind was ahead of everyone else’s. Because of this, a bachelor in English could be achieved early at London University, completely according to the wishes of the gruesome puppeteers.

Such was the plan in any case, until the passion for photography was found and it was decided to pursue a career in that, spiting all the expectations of a future that had never been created at one's own hand.

Finding a good and trustworthy agency to work under proved somewhat difficult, but after putting multiple hours fuelled by coffee into online research one that was looking for freelancers was found and applied to. After sending in a barely existent résumé and visiting the agency for a second interview, it lead to being hired so that now the job of a freelance lensman is proudly added to a fairly short curriculum vitae.

Nevertheless, thanks to some well-paid assignments, and a little bit of help from the man and woman who once served as legal guardians, it was possible to leave the native country and depart for the second home in the world.

The only shelter from the ever-lasting storm of reality.

At long last, it was finally possible to return to the grumpy though sweet-hearted Siheung boy.

#GOT7 #GOT7 fanfiction #JB #Jaebeom #Im Jaebeom #GOT7 x OC

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