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helloalycia · 3 years

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worth the wait [one] // daisy johnson

summary: when your best friend, Skye, keeps running away from home, you're left to deal with the consequences, but then one day, she doesn't come back.

warning/s: mentions of unwanted foster kids

author’s note: this is a five parter and each chapter is quite long bc i got carried away. i've literally been working on this for so long so i hope there's still some daisy johnson stans out there to appreciate this!

"She's the only person she talks to... doesn't listen to anyone... just try..."

I twiddled my thumbs as I refrained from rolling my eyes. Mr Lock was pretty stupid if he thought I couldn't hear him with the door slightly ajar.

"...can't do much... good student?"

"She'll tell you what she knows," I heard Mr Lock say more clearly, to the police officer, before the door got pushed open.

I glanced at him as he feigned a smile for my sake, making his way over to his desk and sitting opposite me. The police officer followed after him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and watching me with curious eyes like she was studying my every move.

"As you are probably aware, Miss Y/L/N, your friend Skye has gone missing," Mr Lock began to explain. "Her foster family have tried contacting her, but they can't find her."

I felt nervous with the police officer watching me, trying not to glance her way for fear she'd know I was hiding something.

"We just want to bring her home safely," Mr Lock continued. "And you're the closest person to her."

It wasn't a question – he knew I was the closest person to her. We'd done this back and forth many times before, every time Skye decided to run away. And it didn't get any easier.

I swallowed hard. "If you're asking me if I know where she is, I can promise you I don't."

Technically I wasn't lying, so that wasn't too much of a stretch.

"Have you had any contact with her since yesterday morning?" the police officer asked.

I shook my head and tried to ignore how warm I was getting. "I usually meet her by the entrance before class, but she wasn't there. I thought she was just pulling a sick day or something."

The officer hummed in response and the way she didn't give away what she was thinking didn't help with my nerves.

"So, you know nothing of Skye's disappearance?" Mr Lock asked with a raised eyebrow. "Anything you can tell us will be greatly appreciated. Her family just want her home and we all want her to be safe. You know the drill."

"I want that, too," I lied as confidently as I could. "You know she's done this before... she'll come back. She always does."

Mr Lock sighed and rested his head in his hands; he was clearly exhausted from having this same chat with me every few months Skye decided to leave.

"I think that's everything," the police officer said, before standing up straight. She glanced at me, adding, "Thank you for your cooperation. Please let your teacher know if you hear anything from her."

I nodded awkwardly. "Will do."

Mr Lock stood up, hand on his hip with mild frustration. He nodded my way and waved a hand dismissively. "Okay, you can go now, Y/N. Back to class, go on."

I nodded and looked between them both before grabbing my backpack and heading to the door. I could hear them talking quietly though, and felt mildly guilty for lying.

"...does this regularly now," the police officer was saying. "She'll turn up."

"She's wasting our time," Mr Lock was mumbling. "She always does this and for what?"

I sighed inwardly before leaving his office and heading back to class. I continued on with my school day as normal, up until lunchtime when I got a message from Skye herself.

Heading to the toilets to ensure nobody would see me, I slipped into a cubicle and pulled out the burner phone Skye gave me the first time she ever ran away a few years ago. She was always cautious of being caught out but still wanted to be able to contact me, so this was her solution. I didn't argue it as I only ever wanted to make sure she was okay and I could at least talk to her.

She'd texted me, it reading: Meet me by the ice cream truck in the park after school.

I was relieved to know she was okay, since it was the first text she'd sent me since she left yesterday morning. But it was frustrating that she'd disregarded my many concerned texts before that.

With a huff, I replied: I'm doing good, thanks for asking. You could've texted sooner, Skye.

It took a moment before she responded. Sorry, mom

I rolled my eyes, knowing she'd have that annoyingly cute smile on her face as she texted from wherever the hell she was.

Another text came through from her. Sorry I didn't reply sooner. Everything cool with the cops?

I sighed and hastily replied: Everything is as cool as it can be. I'll talk to you later when I see you. You safe?

Every time she left, she came back without a scratch to my relief, but it didn't make me feel any better when she would leave again and again. Running was her way of rebelling against everything – the countless foster families she went through, the teachers who ridiculed her, the other students who judged her. I didn't know where she went – it would change every time and I was sure she was making it up to make me feel better – but I covered for her because I cared about her and didn't want her to push me away like she did with everyone else. It was getting old though.

Her text came through and the heaviness on my shoulders lifted with relief. I'm always safe. But thanks for caring.

I always care. You know that.

I do. I'll see you later, Y/N. Love you.

I love you, too. See you later.

She stopped responding and I put the phone away before taking a deep breath. Seventeen and Skye had me feeling like a soldier's wife at freakin' war. She was gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.

—

"Over here."

I spun around and felt my racing heart calm down when I saw the familiar teasing smile of Skye watching me behind the abandoned ice cream truck.

"You're okay," I breathed out with relief before moving forward and pulling her in for a tight hug.

She laughed but wrapped her arms around me, squeezing gently. "I always am, I told you."

I refrained from rolling my eyes as I pulled away, meeting her gaze. "I'll always worry, Skye."

Momentarily, her playful demeanour disappeared and was replaced with something genuine. "I know... sorry. Thanks for coming."

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. "Skye, you can't keep running away like this. Mr Lock called me in again. Thinks I know where you are. Says your family are worried."

Skye snorted as she took a seat on the bench nearby. "They're probably throwing a party in my absence. This is just protocol for them. All of them."

I watched her with a pitiful gaze before taking a seat next to her. "The police came again."

"But you covered, right?" Skye asked with a quirked brow.

"Obviously," I said, making her smile, but I didn't return it. "I hate lying to them. It makes me feel... dirty."

"It's not like you're hiding the location of a war criminal, Y/N, chill," she teased, patting my knee.

"Where were you this time?" I asked, afraid to know the answer.

A grin appeared on her lips with remembrance as she reached into her backpack, pulling out a laptop.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Where d'you get that?"

She seemed proud as she said, "I won it in a bet."

"Skye!"

"What? It was fair play and I happened to win," she said with a shrug.

I facepalmed. "Skye, if you needed a laptop, you should've asked. I could have asked my parents or– or– I don't know–"

"What? Fundraised for the poor foster girl in class who can't buy a laptop like everyone else?" she cut me off bitterly, before replacing the laptop in her bag. "I'd rather not."

I frowned, moving to rest a hand on her back, but she shook me off harshly before standing up.

"Skye, I didn't mean it like that," I said apologetically, standing up, too. "I just meant– I could have helped. I want to help. I don't want you to have to make bets to get stuff. I just want you to be safe."

Skye and I becoming friends was something I never could have seen coming, but when we were partnered in science class in middle school, we kind of just fell into each other's lives. I knew of her situation with her many foster families and always knew she deserved better. Sometimes though, I think she felt the difference in our lives when it came to little things like buying stuff, and I hated it.

"Skye–"

"It's okay," she interrupted, glancing at me with sad eyes. "I know you want to help. But I'm okay."

Treading carefully, I asked, "Where did you go then?"

She ran a hand through her hair. "Library."

I narrowed my eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"

She met my eyes and shrugged. "You don't have to, but it's the truth."

I couldn't be bothered arguing with her, so I simply played along. "Fine. You went to the library and won a bet with someone, getting their laptop."

"Exactly."

I gave her a knowing look. "When are you coming back? To school?"

She was about to respond, but her phone vibrated and she checked it quickly, her eyes lighting up. I tried not to roll my eyes at her change of mood, not wanting to imagine the bond she'd made with her new friends.

She finally answered. "A few days, I promise."

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, so I nodded. "Okay. A few days. You'll keep in touch though, yeah?"

"I will, I promise," she said with a small smile before moving forward and hugging me tightly. "Thanks, Y/N."

I sighed but returned her hug, knowing I couldn't stay mad at her for long. "Just please take care of yourself, Skye. And if you need anything – and I mean anything – just ask. Unfortunately, I have a soft spot for your dumbass."

She laughed and admittedly, my stomach did somersaults at the sound. She pulled away but kept within arm's reach, allowing me to see the honesty shining in her brown eyes.

"I'll see you in a few days," she promised. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I replied, watching as she stepped back to leave.

She sent a final smile my way before running away, leaving me standing there alone and with a worried heart.

"More than you'll know," I muttered to myself, knowing I could never tell her how I truly felt.

—

"Won't your mum kill you for this?"

I shrugged, leading Skye through the the party-goers and to the kitchen where the drinks were. "She's okay with it because she knows I'm responsible. Plus, I promised her I wouldn't get drunk."

Skye let out a laugh. "Right. You're at a high school party and you're not gonna drink. That's totally happening."

I poured myself and Skye a drink as I quirked a brow. "I never said I wasn't going to drink. Just that I wouldn't get drunk. There's a difference, Skye."

She seemed impressed as she nodded. "Sneaky."

I was invited to this party by some girl in class and thought it would be nice for Skye and I to go to since it had been a while since we'd hung out. She didn't want to go at first, but after a little convincing on my end, she joined me.

We ended up staying there for about an hour when Skye needed to go to the bathroom and I decided to grab a snack from the kitchen. As I was browsing the bowls and considering whether I wanted to risk grabbing food from a shared bowl, I felt someone tap my shoulder from behind me.

When I turned, I was surprised to see a very tall guy stood there with a smirk on his face.

"It's Y/N, right?" he began the conversation, before suddenly raising his hand and reaching for something in my hair. "Sorry, you had some fluff there."

I smiled awkwardly and pushed my hair behind my ear. "Er, thanks. Yeah, I'm Y/N. I'm sorry, I don't think I recognise you."

He shook his head. "I didn't think you would. We don't go to the same school. I saw you walking around and thought I'd introduce myself."

"Oh, er..." I didn't know what to say as I wasn't really interested in his clear advances.

"Can I get you a drink?" he asked suddenly, still smirking at me.

"I already have one," I said conclusively, before aiming to move past him, but he put his arm in the way. I looked at it before raising my eyebrow at him. "You gonna let me go?"

He snickered. "Come on, just let me get you a drink."

"I'm not interested," I told him straightforwardly before attempting to make another move, but he pushed me back gently. "Dude, come on."

"What's one drink gonna do?" he asked persistently (and annoyingly).

"I–"

"She said back off," another voice came out of nowhere, and suddenly Skye appeared and pushed the guy back harshly, stepping between us.

"Skye, I–" I began, but the guy was already glaring down at her with a fake smile on his lips.

"Or what?" he asked rhetorically.

She returned his glare and said nothing. I rested a hand on her arm and tried to tug her backwards, but she wasn't moving. Always the stubborn one.

"What are you gonna do, Skye?" he repeated with bitter humour. "You gonna call the cops? I heard they know you pretty well by now, don't they?"

"Don't speak to her like that," I said angrily, glaring at him.

He began to laugh, shaking his head, before finally walking away. I released a deep breath and watched as Skye turned around to face me.

"Are you alright?" I asked her gently, resting a hand on her arm as I found her eyes.

"Are you?" she countered, looking over me with concern. "That guy was a jackass."

"He was, but I had it under control," I said with reassurance, before downing the rest of my drink and throwing the cup in the bin. "You didn't need to step in."

"Uh, yeah, I did," she said, stepping in my line of sight. "He was a creep."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Okay, Skye, whatever you say. Thank you."

"You're welcome, now can we leave?"

I shoved her in the shoulder slightly. "We're not leaving. Not yet anyway. There's a foosball table in the other room I wanna play with and you're playing, too."

She sighed dramatically. "Fine."

I grinned at her before dragging her to the other room by her hand.

Another hour passed when I unfortunately began to feel the effects of my drink that I later came to learn was spiked by the arsehole who tried to hit on me. I wasn't particularly aware of my actions, otherwise I definitely wouldn't have done nor said half the things I did. Things like playing beer pong for the third time in a row and losing every game.

"It's just me an' you, Y/L/N," Kate, the girl I was playing with, said as we both a had a cup left. "Think you can win?"

I laughed as I rolled the ball between my fingers. "Third time's the charm...?"

The group of teenagers around us watched with anticipation as I aimed the shot up in my mind. It wasn't exactly helpful that I could barely stand up straight and my eyes were crossing over, making the cup move around slowly.

"One... two... three...," I counted down, before tossing the ball and watching it bounce off the side of the table and onto the floor. "Well, shit."

Everybody laughed as I ran a hand through my hair. Kate chuckled before grabbing the ball and lining it up. Miles better than I did, she aimed quickly and got it in the cup in one shot, resulting in cheers from everyone. I laughed and grabbed the cup, eyeballing the beer. I wasn't really a fan of beer, but a game was a game.

I downed the cup and pulled a face at how disgusting it tasted, before tossing the cup on the floor. I pushed away from the table I was leaning on, before falling back and hitting the floor, butt-first. I giggled to myself as I tried to stand up, but with great difficulty.

"Y/N, there you are!"

I looked up and lit up when I saw none other than Skye standing above me. She bent down and grabbed my hands before helping me stand up. I stumbled into her, but thankfully she caught my weight and let me lean on her for support.

"How did you get drunk so quickly?" she asked with surprise, leading me to the front door. "I've literally been with you. Until you ditched me twenty minutes ago which wasn't cool since I only came to this stupid party because of you."

I laughed. "I'm sorry. I saw the ping pong table and couldn't resist."

She sighed to herself before leading me outside. "You smell like alcohol."

"That's because I had some," I whispered not-so-quietly in her ear, before erupting into giggles.

"I gotta get you home," she mumbled, before searching my pockets. "Where are your keys?"

"My mum is gonna k-kill me," I realised, but a dopey smile was on my lips. "You have to sleepover."

She found my keys and began leading me to my car. "I'm gonna have to, aren't I? So much for not getting drunk."

I covered my mouth to try and stop the laughter from spilling out. She didn't seem amused as she managed to get me into the passenger's seat before rounding the car to the driver's seat. When she got comfortable, I watched her with a childish grin.

"You can't drive," I said in a know-it-all voice. "You didn't pass your test, silly."

She started the engine and began doing her mirror checks before pulling out, muttering, "Nobody has to know."

I watched as she drove, feeling exhausted but lighter than usual. She looked really pretty tonight. I wanted to tell her when we went to the party, but I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. Now however, it was all I could think about and my heart was fluttering at the thought.

"Here, drink this," she ordered, before throwing a bottle of water into my lap.

"But–"

"No buts, just drink it," she said authoritatively, glancing at me.

I didn't want to argue with her, so I began opening the bottle as I giggled to myself. "You said butts."

She groaned to herself and I drank the water as instructed, even if I really didn't want to.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at my house and Skye was helping me to the door.

"Your mum knows you're coming back late, so this shouldn't be a problem," she said quietly, mostly to herself. "Try not to make noise though, okay?"

I nodded obediently, before putting my finger to my mouth. "Sshhhh. Quiet."

She rolled her eyes before using my keys to open the door and drag me inside. I stayed as quiet as I could, letting her take me upstairs and to my room. Only, before we could go in, I heard my mum call out for me.

"Y/N, love, is that you?"

I stared blankly at Skye as she gave me a knowing look with wide eyes, nodding. I continued staring at her as my mum called my name again.

"Answer her!" she whisper-shouted to me.

"But you said to stay quiet," I said with confusion.

She facepalmed. "Just answer her," she said with frustration.

"Well then, no need to get crabby," I mumbled before calling out to mum, "It's me, mum! Skye and I are back!"

There was a pause before she called back, "Okay! Make sure you lock the front door!"

I snickered to myself as Skye shoved me into my bedroom before I could reply.

"Will do, Mrs Y/L/N!" Skye called out before slipping into my room with me.

She flicked on the light as I flopped onto my bed with a satisfied sigh. Suddenly, something was tossed onto my face making me groan as I pulled them off. I realised they were pyjamas.

"Get changed. Now."

I sat up and saw Skye watching me with a stern expression. I couldn't help but smile to myself, giggling. She looked really cute when she pretended to be angry.

"Y/N," she warned.

"I'm not tired," I lied, standing up. I wanted any excuse to keep on talking to her.

"I don't care," she said with a shrug. "You're going to bed whether you like it or not."

"But I wanna talk to you," I whined like a child, before moving forward to grab her hand.

She let go and gently pushed me to the bed. "Don't be a baby, Y/N."

I hugged her quickly, smiling to myself. "Thank you for being here. And for coming with me tonight."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"I'm serious," I said, pulling away and almost falling backwards, but she held me upright. "Thanks."

Her expression softened. "Unfortunately, that's what friends are for, Y/N. I wasn't gonna leave you."

I breathed out, momentarily startled by her sharp gaze. She had the most beautiful eyes, I always thought it. Somehow, she had the power to make me freeze up and forget everything I was thinking or going to say and I never knew why.

"I love you," I said truthfully, not caring what I was saying and too overcome with emotion to care.

She rolled her eyes, a smile of amusement dancing on her lips. "You gotta keep it down, Y/N."

I smiled widely. "But I do."

She gave me a knowing look. "I know you do. And I love you, too, but you have to get ready. Tomorrow morning is not gonna be kind to you."

"No, you don't get it, I really love you, Skye," I said, my mouth going dry as I stared at her with butterflies in my stomach.

"I know," she played along, patting me on the shoulder. "You done, idiot?"

"I'm in love with you," I blurted suddenly, smile disappearing. I stared at her, trying to ignore the blurriness in my vision. "I always have been."

Her smile seemed to fade when she realised how serious I had become. She licked her lips and shook her head slowly, lowering her hands.

"You don't know what you're saying, Y/N," she said quietly.

I grew distracted by her lips, barely acknowledging what was coming out of her mouth. "I do," I told her.

She didn't know what to say, and before I knew it, I had moved forward and pressed my lips to hers. It was something I'd wanted to do for so long and now that I was finally doing it, my shoulders felt lighter as if I wasn't carrying a huge secret on them anymore.

I closed my eyes and momentarily felt her kiss back, hands resting on my chest. It didn't last very long as she gently pushed me away, leaving me face to face with her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. I was sure I didn't look any different.

"You're drunk," she stated awkwardly.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and began to come to terms with what I'd just done, what I'd just ruined. I stepped back and shook my head.

"I'm so sorry, Skye. I–"

"It's okay," she reassured me. "Please, let's just get you ready for bed, okay?"

I avoided her eyes as I nodded, feeling my heart ache with discomfort.

When I woke up the next morning, I didn't remember much from the night before. At least not straight away. All I had to remind me of it was an insane headache that wouldn't go away and a rancid taste in my mouth. Thankfully, Skye caught me up with how drunk I was and how she had to stay with me to cover for me before she left me to shower and freshen up.

Unfortunately for me, showering and freshening up gave me enough time to remember parts of the night before, including the main bit where I kissed my best friend and expressed my feelings for her.

To say I was freaking out was an understatement. I couldn't believe I had done the very thing I had avoided for years. Seeing her at the breakfast table made me wonder why she hadn't mentioned it. Was she embarrassed? Did she want to pretend it never happened? Was she uncomfortable?

I wasn't sure whether to go along and pretend I couldn't remember it, or admit the truth and apologise profusely. In the end, I ended up doing the latter.

We were eating pancakes that she'd made with my mum as I spoke up.

"So, I, er, I'm kinda remembering some stuff from last night," I said awkwardly, glancing up at her.

She slowed down with her eating, avoiding my eyes. "You do?"

I nodded, looking back down to my food. "Yeah. Particularly the, well, I–"

"You don't have to say it," she assured me, and I looked up to see her watching me with a small smile.

"I'm really sorry," I got out with a deep breath. "I don't know why I did that. Or said those things. It was stupid."

"It was?"

"You should've left after that, but you didn't for some reason," I continued with a grimace of embarrassment. "We can totally pretend it didn't happen."

She chewed on the inside of her mouth as she nodded slowly in agreement. I nodded, too, eyes falling to my pancakes.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "And thank you for making sure I was okay. You're a really great friend."

She smiled at me with distracted eyes. "Anytime, Y/N."

#daisy johnson #daisy johnson x reader #daisy johnson imagine #agents of shield imagine #agents of shield #agent skye #marvel imagine #marvel #mcu #chloe bennet

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bumbershots · 3 years

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LOVEFOOL

Author’s note: HELLO! This is my part for the Valentine’s Day challenge that @1dffchallenges put together. Make sure to keep an eye out for any other pieces published by other authors. Enjoy! And happy Valentine’s weekend! (:

Summary: Harry agrees to go on a blind date set up by his friends in hopes that it will help him move on from an unrequited love.

Word count: 3K

Challenge prompt and dialogue: blind date set up by friends. “I don’t want this to end...”

There’s a first for everything. Harry’s had his fair share of them at the age of twenty-seven. First time on an aeroplane at the tender age of six for a family holiday in Rome. First kiss on his home town’s park with someone he deeply cared about. First time in a recording studio. First time going on tour. The first night spent alone in his new and barely furnished home. The first morning he laid eyes on the girl next door. The ugly heartbreak after she got married, certainly felt worse than his first one.

Life is full of firsts, Harry knows that, and he wishes to have been the first to sneak his way into Jane’s heart, all those years ago.

"You love her" it almost sounds like an accusation coming from Jeff, though the last thing he wants is to make Harry feel guilty. The musician doesn't reply, he shrugs, eyes never leaving her no matter how deep into the ocean she seems to be. "Does she know?" Harry shakes his head in denial. "Did you bring her along just so you could tell her?"

"I enjoy writing music with her, that's why she's here," his tone leaves no room for more questions, the manager knows and sighs defeated. Harry stands from his spot on the beach and heads back inside the house, alone.

Is he being that obvious?

He reviews the past few days and wonders where he slipped, nothing rings any bell. Harry completely and conveniently forgets how he doesn't nag her for having a smoke after dinner, instead he just opens the window and stands close to it, or how he's been making her a cuppa everyday at noon. But it was the time when Jane asked him to help her French plait her hair when something clicked in Jeff's brain, the way Harry beamed at such a simple request left no room for questioning. Yet he asked him, because there was that tiny chance of it all being part of the manager's imagination, but when he looked back on it, the little things now made more sense to him and in a way he always knew.

They've been in Port Antonio for two weeks now and everything was going just dandy, Harry was writing more than ever, the first week he had a new song every day, he even polished the old ones and had a tune for his favourites, thanks to Mitch's help. When Jeff Azoff got there earlier this week, he spent a good two hours talking to Jeff Bhasker about how much of a good idea the trip was.

"Harry is on a writing spree." He complimented Azoff's client, it was nothing but the truth. However the reason for it all, was now heading back to the house to join the others after a good surfing session.

Jane went straight to take a shower, ready to rinse all the ocean's saltiness from her body, thinking how wonderful it would've been if her own worries could be washed away with her tangerine shampoo. In contrast to Harry's good spirits and excellent mood, her own cloud of trouble seemed to follow her all the way from London. She still hadn't heard from her husband, so it is safe to say he was still upset about her going away to work in Harry's album. It was impossible for her to forget the argument they had, at first thinking it was a joke on his side, insinuating that they were ‘shagging behind his back’.

After her shower, wearing comfortable clothes, Jane joins the others for supper but keeps to herself, still with the dichotomy about calling Alex or letting him be. He will eventually come to his senses and apologise.

What if he doesn't?

The thought alone of her clothes being packed in boxes by the time she gets back home almost makes her cry, perhaps she can call or text him just to test the waters. It is ridiculous how she seems to be more mature about this than him.

"Penny for them?" Harry's voice brings her back to the now empty dining room, the voices from the rest of their party can be heard from the living room.

"God I'm sorry H, lost myself out there for a moment," she is embarrassed, with him, the others and herself for letting this situation get under her skin. And she's also avoiding talking about it, with Harry or anyone. "I was just thinking about the tempo for Sweet Creature."

"Liar," he hates to be shut down by her more than anything. "Is it because I didn't let you eat the last peanut drop the other day?" It would've been easier for her to say it was, than to address the actual reason. But Harry hasn't lied to her, ever.

"No love, although I was a bit hurt because of that, it's actually this thing with Alex we are, I don't know, he was upset with me and said some things," Jane couldn't finish, her speech was cut short by a quiet sob and Harry was quick to pull her from the chair onto his lap and hold her tight. His own heart speeding at the sight of her distressed.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Two weeks ago." Her voice barely whispers on his chest, "he's being a wanker to be honest, just because he's not going on tour with any of his bands I'm supposed to be a stay at home wife!"

"Why don't you explain this to me, from the beginning, please?" He asks rubbing her back soothingly, and she spills it all, the having kids now or never argument, to her wanting to have a proper wedding party and finally the latest fight where Alex suggested an affair going on between her and Harry, the latter had to do his best not to put the option on the table, since her husband so kindly suggested it. Might as well, he thought. "It all sounds like a big misunderstanding, I know you're a great communicator sunshine, so it baffles me that you've let this go on for so long." He's got a point.

"You're right, but I feel like it's his turn, you know?" Jane's done weeping, but remained on her friend's lap and arms, head resting on his shoulder. "He's always forward, mature, a proper thirty year old except when it comes to arguments where we ought to reach an agreement," she plays a bit with the cross hanging from his neck, a scowl on her pretty face. "Like with the children thing, we only stopped arguing when I said that maybe in two more years we could have one instead of, you know, my early thirties." It's good that she can't see how upset Harry is.

"You gave into that one, he should do the same but it's his choice," Harry sighs and can't believe what he's about to say. "Take the day off tomorrow, call him or FaceTime, Skype whatever you choose, but have a proper conversation with him." She wants to argue and say it's not necessary to be absent the whole day, she can spare a few hours. But she will need time to think about what to say, make her point clear so they are on good terms until she goes back to London.

"Fine, but if he is still acting like a dickhead afterwards, I'm not going to let it into my head anymore, we will continue to bask in this great work environment going on here." Jane states, pulling away from his embrace just enough to give him that stern look she uses when trying to make a point, and Harry nods with a warm smile, the one she never gets tired of seeing. "I'll call it a night now, gonna be asleep in seconds now that I've got that out of my chest." She stands from his lap, missing his warmth instantly. "Thanks for that."

"Anytime honey pie." Harry says before leaving a kiss on her left hand that burns her skin from then till morning.

Jeff joins the musician in the dining room right after the girl walks away to her room, he takes a seat across from him and scrutinises the look of adoration his friend still sports once she is out of the room.

"She'll never know, if you never tell her." Jeff is right, but the thought alone of going through that again scares him to death. Or so he says, because there's a part of him that is fond of the thrill it makes him feel.

"It's not like I haven't tried, just last year I told her," Harry remembers that night vividly, how pretty she looked even with her makeup all smudged under her eyes. "I'm not sure if she heard, it was too loud like where we were at the time." He was also pissed out of his mind.

"H, there's nothing wrong with being in love."

"I'm not saying it is, but even if she did love me I– I would find a way to hurt her. Anyway. she's happily married now, it's too late." Saying it out loud doesn't hurt him any less like he thought it would. Harry sighs in defeat before rising from the chair, "she's everything to me, I wouldn't mess with her head by confessing my feelings, deep down I always knew she deserved better and now she has it and that's good enough for me." The musician disappears through the corridor where his everlasting love did just a few minutes ago, he paused for a moment outside her room, pondering whether to barge in and just follow his instincts, kiss her like he should've done after winning that award back in 2014.

Harry shakes his head and goes straight to his room, he reminds himself that it was time to let her go. It's for the best. He is not good enough for her, he can't even write a song for her, about her. He mustn't love her that much then.

What Harry doesn't know is that he can't write a song about her because he loves her too much, the poor lad can't even figure out where to start. But he's about to get rid of that curse in a day or two, he just needs to be patient.

The reward for it came, all of a sudden Harry wrote too many songs about her until she inevitably became aware of the situation they were in. Harry vowed to stay away from Jane’s life after recording the album. He dated people that didn’t remind him of her, and even moved temporarily to Japan. But despite all his efforts, four years later Harry still finds himself thinking about her, everything seems to be tainted by her. The music he adores, the new dinner recipes he cooks, the books he chooses to read.

Completely out of options he agreed to this blind date his friends set up for him.

He arrives at the modest restaurant they so kindly chose for the occasion. “All you have to do is wear something nice and show up.” Alexa reminded him over the phone last week.

This is a new first for him, it is also exciting, to take a seat at a table for two conveniently placed at the back, pretend to pay attention to the menu but let his green eyes avert to whoever approaches. Harry is having a great time, he knows that soon his date will arrive. He wonders what they’ll be like.

According to Alexa and Pixie, the person arriving is the perfect match for their young friend. Harry can only hope they like Vietnamese cuisine because that’s apparently this place’s special offer this week. If he’s lucky enough the date will agree to share a starter and perhaps two main courses, that way he doesn’t have to choose between one or the other.

“Here’s your table.” Harry hears the waiter speak and his gaze meets a very familiar figure standing beside him. It can’t be.

“Excuse me, there must be a mistake, I’m waiting for someone else.” Harry protests.

The waiter shakes his head and shows him the notepad with some specifications written down. “Nothing wrong, got specific instructions from Miss Chung, a lady will come in to say is here for Geldolf’s blind date, you are sitting at the table they reserved. I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order.” He is quick to explain and disappear.

Jane sits because there is no way she can stand any longer, her legs are about to give out from the commotion. This was not the blind date she was expecting either. It’s been at least four years since she last saw Harry. The night after he finally admitted being in love with her, waiting for a reaction, anything from her, after what seemed like hours but was only ten minutes later, he walked out of her house and entire life, leaving her confused and upset.

“How’ve you been?” she asked after confirming that Harry wasn’t going to up and leave.

“Pretty fantastic, until you arrived.” He’s never spoken to her like that before, with so much affliction in his tone. “What are you doing here?”

“I was set up on a blind date by Pixie—

He interrupts her. “That’s fucking convenient, did you all went to this much trouble, just to mock me? I thought they were my friends, you know, that even after everything, they cared about me.” Harry stops, his voice breaks, he’s so angry, hurt and confused by the situation. “Did your husband come along, to witness my humiliation too?” He looks around, trying to find the man of Jane’s dreams.

“I wouldn’t know if he’s here, haven’t seen him since we got divorced three years ago.” She snaps before hiding behind the menu from a gobsmacked Harry.

The words he’d been waiting to hear were finally out of her mouth. Unlike the million times he dreamt about this happening, Harry is not sweeping her off her feet and running away into the sunset holding her hand. Instead he reaches out to touch her arm, testing the waters. He waits for her to lower the menu and surprisingly there are no tears in her eyes. Perhaps only a bit of sorrow that is quickly replaced with confusion, at how fast her heart raced after Harry’s touch.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is back to oozing the tenderness he reserves just for her. Jane nods.

“But can we share a rice bowl and Pho noodle soup?”

“Yes, and dessert too!” Even after four years Harry’s sweet tooth hasn’t changed, Jane sighs before the waiter is back to take their order.

Keeping a conversation between the two of them is not hard at all, even if it is an awkward topic —her not so recent divorce. “We didn’t have anything in common anymore, there were so many fights every single day. When I finally suggested the separation, he seemed relieved and I felt like a complete fool.” Jane remembers the sigh of comfort that came out of the man she once loved with all her heart before that rainy afternoon, when she finally decided that she’d had enough. “He left that night, hadn’t seen him since, his lawyer took care of everything,” a sour laugh escapes her lips, Harry’s eyes are full of sympathy for her. “I’m sorry for ruining your blind date, I know you’ve never been to one before.” Of course she did, she knows him better than anyone.

“This has to be the greatest date I’ve ever been to.” He speaks without a second thought.

All those years Harry spent away from Jane were not going to be in vain. He was not going to neglect the feelings he still had for her. That affection he felt for her, only her. Harry shifts in his seat, this is not at all how he planned it, in a restaurant full of people on fucking Valentine’s day. It almost seemed like a tacky move.

But after all this time of pining for her, hating her and himself at times. Harry was brave enough, it was now or never, he didn’t want to wait any longer, not after his friends schemed and executed this soppy plan to bring the two soulmates together. Before she could take the final bite of dessert that Harry kindly left for her. The world stopped.

“I don’t want this to end...” Harry says with a dimpled smile she can’t look away from. “I’d like to take you out on a second date, a third, fourth, fifth. Believe me when I tell you, I have planned up to a thousand of them.” He takes her hand in his and can feel her pulse race along his own. The smile splits his face again, because he knows, he feels, he sees it in her beautiful eyes. “Janey, you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to. I know there is a name for this emotion, I’ve written songs about it, but now I don’t think it’s a word big enough for us.”

She squeezes his hand and breaths out a laugh, tears of joy brimming out of her eyes. “Let’s call it love, until we come up with a better name for it.” Harry agrees and just then, Jane brings up his hand to her lips.

His skin tingles where she kisses him for the first time and he beams at her.

There’s a first for everything, and although it feels like it for Jane and Harry, this isn’t by any means the first time they confess their love for each other. It was always there, in every laugh they shared, every song they wrote together, every touch. It was on Harry’s unwavering devotion, on his impatience and selfless actions throughout the years.

They were bound to be together, their story didn’t begin on that initial blind date, it did years ago after he caught a glimpse of her shiny black hair on the morning she moved into the house across the street.

Harry drives her back to her new flat on the other side of the city, enjoying every minute of the long ride, happy to hear her ramble about her newest obsession with romantic novels and burst out laughing after Jane confesses that sometimes she doesn’t finish reading books she likes, just to pretend the story keeps going. With a quick kiss to the back of her hand he completely agrees.

No tale is more compelling than one that never ends.

#1dffvalentine #harry styles

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anextraordinarymuse · 3 years

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I'm just gonna go ahead and make a new post to respond to your points Katie (@jonesgirl88) so that we're not constantly reblogging and trying to load all of those gifs.

Jump to the DLO dance: there is a war going on in Oliver's head and the fact Eric can act that so we can see it? Brilliant. Chef's kiss. He's so torn and you can feel it and your heart breaks for both of them. He's holding her hand to his heart but Shane is also physically on his right side. Her chin is nearly resting on his right shoulder and he's pulled her close to his right side. What say you?

I noticed this too, of course. But first - Eric and Kristin deserve awards. All of the awards. They act beautifully, and they play off of each other so well - they're wonderful scene partners. Okay anyway. Yes, Shane is physically on his right side and has many points of contact along that side (like you said, her chin is nearly on his shoulder) but I pointed out their hands specifically because they are originally positioned away from their bodies. Shane and Oliver's physical closeness is a given in this moment because dancing is intimate. It requires that a lot of you be in contact with a lot of your partner. But originally Oliver and Shane's hands are extended away from them until Oliver pointedly draws them in and places Shane's hand over his heart. This movement is unnecessary in the context of ... well, anything. It's a purely instinctive and intimate move. He could have simply let go of her hand, or drawn it closer and then held it in some other position, but no: he pulls it right in against him. That's why I included it. I'm sure that it was included in the blocking and written in to the script because we're meant to notice it.

I could write for days about that DLO dance scene. THE. FREAKING. CHEMISTRY. I blush ridiculously easily (seriously it's A Problem and I hate it) and I would have been crimson that whole time if I were Kristin. The Tenderness. The Tension. The way his eyes dart back and forth right before he lets her go because he's so at war with himself: kiss her or let her go? O.Y.E.

They're standing in a line (because they're being given awards) but he's turning towards her and she's turning towards him. I just...I can't with these two.

This is totally A Thing©. Shane and Oliver both have a tendency to turn in toward each other like that - but especially Shane. It's an unconscious attempt to take refuge in Oliver and his strength, I think. She often does it in times when she's seeking comfort and closeness/affection. That moment where Shane is sleeping on Oliver's shoulder is one my favorite moments of it, but there's another one that's a small moment (that apparently was either filmed in a longer moment and cut, or aired as a longer moment/actual hug in one of the international versions).

Right before the scene fades into the next one we see Shane turn herself even more into Oliver's left side and tuck her head, as if she's going to bury her face in his shoulder. I wish we'd been gifted with more of this moment! Look at the way she tucks her arm into him and tips her head - she even kind of pushes her hip into his side. I just love this moment a lot.

1) Shane is shown to be freaking out when closed in the vault. Her fear seems to trigger at odd times? She's fine when she learned there's 13 hours of air; she's fine when she learns there's actually less than 5 hours of air; she's fine when she's bored and wants to play a game; but Katherine might be dead so she freaks out? I get it, she believes their fate to be tied together but then why wasn't she more fearful before they started reading the letters? It just doesn't make a lot of sense.

I think for a large part of this Shane was doing a good job of distracting herself and focusing on something else. But reading the letters made them both emotional: they connected with something poignant in those letters. They're reading about two people who fall in love despite their circumstances and share something beautiful even if it's only words - and then find out at the end that these two people may not have actually been able to be together. Not only does that mirror their situation, but all of a sudden it seems like they might never have the chance to be together either (to Shane) because, oh yeah, they're also in danger of not breathing anymore - and I think that just brought her fear to the surface. Also, it's a small moment, but Shane wasn't too thrilled about having to go into the vault at all. When she first sees it she hesitates and says "in there?" like she'd rather not go anywhere near it. I always took it as a small nod to the fact that Shane might not have a love of small spaces. We've never seen it mentioned again though, so who knows.

I know it's part of the story but he literally just wrote he's willing to give things with Holly another chance but then spends his time thinking of Shane when reading the letters.

Yes! And I have always taken this as another indication that, at this point, Oliver is saying what he feels he should have said long ago. He's making the effort he feels duty bound to make. I mean, I think part of him does want to put in the effort - but that part is his head. His rational mind, and probably his memories of Holly and his affection for her, and the importance he puts on his marriage vows. This is another reason why I truly don't think his heart is with Holly anymore, or in his marriage. AT NO POINT after he writes that letter and tucks it away does he think of Holly. He's reading powerful, moving love letters between two people and the only person he thinks about is Shane? And - we don't find this out until later, but still - the letter he does write to Holly isn't that romantic. He promises to try to see her dreams through her eyes, and says that he's willing to change, but there's nothing about how much he loves her or how her absence has affected his heart or his life. Maybe because Oliver didn't really believe when he was writing it that he was in danger? I don't know. But it's interesting.

That hand grab!! ... And then the way she looks at him as he sings along at the end when Rita wins?? I can't with this man. I can't with this woman.

Um, yes. Shane takes Oliver's hand and he just ... short circuits. It's hilarious. And they're so smitten with each other it's ridiculous.

And in that hospital scene, Oliver absolutely would have let anyone sleep on his shoulder like that. But it wasn't anyone: it was Shane, and it was Shane after all of the emotional intimacy they shared in The Treasure Box; and, once again, it was Shane turned into his side like Oliver offered to let her lay her head there, or she knew what she was doing when she did, because she's not facing forward in the chair with her head to one side like she just accidentally fell asleep and then her head sort of slid to one side. She's angled her body into his. Her feet are pointing toward him. Her hand is just under/next to his arm. How did they get to that moment? I NEED TO KNOW.

(I always understood Jordan to just be an angel. Definitely open to interpretation though.)

OLIVER IS THE ANSWER TO HER LETTER. His words, his faith, his person is the answer to Shane's childhood prayer she never forgot. He opens the wound but it's destined he's the one to help her heal.

Oliver is the embodiment of Shane's hope. Jordan couldn't answer her letter because it had to be Oliver, which he realized. And before he leaves the chapel he says to Oliver "take good care of that little letter writer." HE'S TALKING ABOUT SHANE. In the Impossible Dream, Shane tells Oliver that he's given her something she'll never forget: "a little hope for this world." Oliver. Is. Shane's. Hope. Oh my gosh! She's his heart, he's her hope. How tooth-rottingly, disgustingly sweet. I love it.

Extra point: Kristin can rock a leather skirt...like hot damn woman.

A) she always looks so good, but yes, this leather skirt and periwinkle/lavender top is one of my favorite looks on her, and B) I love her fashion and style and aspire to be that fashionable one day.

Holly and Oliver try to have a conversation with words and they fail.

This literally just occurred to me: Holly herself points out that she and Oliver suck at having actual conversations. Physically they click, so they obviously had a lot of chemistry, but they struggle to just talk to one another. Juxtapose that with Shane, who literally understands Oliver so well and on such a deep level that she not only understands him when no one else does, she can actively translate him. The reunion in HG instantly comes to mind here. She translates in real time for the audience what Oliver means ("And I might be the only person on Earth who understands what you just said!") But she also translates what he says for their waitress in OIAM ("Oh, he just means that people weren't having their booshes (or however you spell that) amused in the 20th century.")

In the Pilot and The Masterpiece, things get McSteamy so quickly but it never starts out that way ... He's trying for the sake of his marriage one last time but his head and heart aren't in it.

Exactly! The pull between him and Shane is magnetic. It's natural and impossible to ignore. This is why I maintain that even if Holly had changed her mind and asked to work on their relationship it never would have worked. Oliver was in love with Shane by this point even if he wouldn't say it or wasn't ready to acknowledge it (although Jordan played a part in making Oliver more aware of this truth. Hard to ignore when a freaking angel points out to you how important someone is to you.)

To Holly, kissing Oliver is akin to breaking promises to herself ... To Shane, kissing Oliver is akin to keeping promises.

Well, you just blew my mind. This is so true! Holly tells us that the only way she could see to live her dream was to stop kissing Oliver (insinuating that it was also to leave him behind); Shane's dream seems to just be ... Oliver. Sharing a life with him; delivering dead letters with him; loving him.

BRB, sobbing over this stupid show and these idiots in love.

I do think that Holly and Oliver parted amicably. I can't decide if I think that Holly asked about Shane, or if she made a comment about her (directly or indirectly). I kind of feel like Holly was more the type to make a comment than ask a question.

I am dying over the logistics of Oliver actually buying that porch swing. Well dressed Oliver scouring the aisles of Walmart at like midnight for the perfect porch swing while surrounded by a bunch of people in their pajamas and college kids on middle of the night snack runs because they're marathoning TV shows instead of studying? Hilarious. Headcanon accepted.

Back to the topic at hand...I do think some of the left/right stuff is purely ease of blocking

As do I. I'm definitely reading more into it than I'm meant to at some points, there's just SO MUCH of it and it's so fun to contemplate that I went for it.

THE HUG IN TRUTH BE TOLD.

hahahahahahaaa ... the way that Shane literally just drops everything and wraps her arms around him slays me. The stunned little pause where Oliver's arms are just up in the air for a second, as if he's somehow surprised at the force of her hug despite having watched her move toward him, and then he tentatively puts his arms on her back and then ... he holds her a little tighter. Ugh. UGH. I DIE.

CAN WE TALK ABOUT OLIVER IN FLANNEL WITH THE SLEEVES ROLLED UP??

Yes. A million times, yes. Oliver with his sleeves rolled up? Outstanding. Oliver in flannel? An absolute vision. Oliver in flannel with his sleeves rolled up? I C A N N O T.

There will be more. I need to make the gifs, but there's going to be a part 4. And probably 5. In fact, I think this is just going to become a series of Things I Need To Scream About™ with supporting gif evidence.

I'll try to break it up though, so there's just ShOliver stuff, just Shane stuff, and just Oliver stuff. And then all Postables stuff because they're the cutest little Postal family ever.

#oliver x shane #shane x oliver #sholiver #Jess' thoughts #look at us bringing life to these tags lol #in my head it's just you and me in this little room freaking out together about these idiots Katie #like every once in a while someone opens the door and it's just us #squealing at each other and flailing #and whoever it is just closes the door and backs away quietly like #nope not going in there

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curiousconch · 3 years

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Rose-colored Glass

Chapter 11 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As winter began its rein in Boston, Heather finds a way to cope with her trauma, discovering the truth while remembering her past.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 1.8k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / emotional trauma, death

Author's Notes: This week has been hard for me, and writing this chapter was unimaginably difficult because of it. Thankfully, like Heather, I found a way to cope, and people to help me get through with it. So instead of moping around, I finished this, inspired by the hauntingly beautiful classic song La Vie En Rose (I listened to this particular version on repeat). So, this is for you Nina, rest well in heaven.

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song. I also do not claim ownership over the lyrics of La Vie en Rose embedded in this chapter.

Heather's discharge went smoothly, contrary to the time she spent in recovery. Her friends needed to stay behind to complete their shifts, and although Kyra offered to take her home, she refused. She needed to do something first. Heather did agree to let her bring her things back to the apartment, with one exception.

Her slimmed fingers tightly gripped on the straps of the small bag she was carrying. The sunglasses she brought along tucked on the collar of her salmon sweater, not needing it anymore due to the cluster of clouds that blocked out the sun. Although it was almost noon, the chilly weather provided some semblance of shade as the heels of her boots thumped softly against the soft white snow-covered ground.

Her gray coat was sprinkled small flakes of snow, as she navigated herself easily amongst the unmarked path, that if a spectator observed, they would readily know that she visited this place often.

Heather's steps halted as she neared a willow tree, standing in front of a moss-colored headstone, aged by the almost seven years of Boston rain.

Despite the gloom of her surroundings, Heather's lips curled into a smile, as she kneeled down to gently place the bouquet of pink roses she bought along the way.

"Hi mom," she said, as the tips of her fingers skimmed the name carved in stone. "I'm sorry it took me so long to visit again. Things have been a little rough."

She went still for a moment, relishing the poignant silence in remembrance.

More than her ambition of being trained by America's top diagnostician, this was the reason why she chose Edenbrook. To be near her, to be in her mother's home city, it somehow filled the emptiness of missing her so much. To walk on the same pavements, to spend time in the same parks and places she's been to brought Heather nothing but the strength and determination to make something out of her once miserable life. Whenever she doubted herself, or when she was about to give up, the thought of her mom fighting a sickness no one should endure, gave Heather the much needed relief and energy to get back up again.

And that's the reason she stood there that cold winter morning. She needed her mom to come through her once again.

Heather closed her eyes momentarily, letting the rush of the nauseating trauma of the past few weeks resurface. Her whole being has run out dry, weakening her knees. She just felt so numb inside.

So without inhibitions, she recalled the recent events that turned her life upside down. She told about the threats over her life, and how close she was to her own death. She spoke about Raf and their recent fallout, how heartbreaking it was but relieving at the same time. She brought up Bryce last.

"This man, mom... I can't even begin to explain how I feel about him," Heather said as she rubbed a hand over her temple. "There's something about him that I just couldn't describe. It's been there since I've first met him, and it's still here until now..."

Her head dropped low in between her shoulders, as she remembered with fondness the emotions that Bryce stirred within her the first time they met, leading up to their frustrating confrontation. Heather irked as the thought of her failure came.

"But somehow, I messed it up. I picked someone else, because I was too afraid..." she revealed. She knew what she felt around him, but did her best to bury it. "Although I often wondered of what we could be, or what we could have been, the deep-seated fears of heartbreak, of what you and dad went through... I just couldn't act on it." she admitted.

"Yet when I was faced with the choice between life or death, all I had was his words, no one else's," she paused, recalling how she soldiered on towards her own escape, empowered by the same declaration during their day out in the trampolines.

"But now I'm afraid I'm too late, mom. I may have missed out on something great... Your daughter is a coward," she bit her lip, her eyes glistening. "Am I really too late?"

The question felt like a cliffhanger, never to be answered.

Sighing deeply, she collected her remaining energy to unzip the small bag she brought with her. She wrapped her hands around the neck of the instrument, pulling out a mahogany-stained ukelele. It was the last gift that she received from her mom, the very same she used to play her songs during their rare downtime.

She tucked its body between her arm and chest, as she tightened its strings with the tuners. With one satisfied strum, she began to sing the song that she and her mom always sang during the roughest period of their lives.

Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose

When you kiss me heaven sighs,

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose

In a rush, those simple words tingled her sensations in reminiscence from flashes of her adolescence - the late night talks, the bonding over ramen noodles, her alcoholic initiation by soju, those times that they saw a movie together, the smell of pancakes and eggs in the morning.

In the few short years they were given, Heather treasured each memory more than anything in her life. Even the tragedy of watching her mom deteriorate because of her sickness, of those last months spent in a cramped hospital ward, she wouldn't trade it even for a pot of gold. Though in pain, her mother would whisper promises that she'll always be there for her, no matter what. Until her last breath, she held her daughter's hand. Those were priceless, shared souvenirs of a life well-lived. Of a life Heather hoped she could lead.

When you press me to your heart

I'm in a world apart, a world where roses bloom

And when you speak, angels sing from above

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs

Give your heart and soul to me

And life will always be

La vie en rose

Within those short verses contained the life lesson her mom taught her over and over again - to see life through rose colored glasses. Singing it reminded her that even if she was long gone, the memory of her will be embedded within, whispering that no matter what, there's a reason to continue living.

Smiling through her tears, her head tilted up to the heavens, praying that the divine could carry her thanks to her mom. For once again, in the most difficult time of her life, she did follow through.

As a sense of peace weaved itself through her, she opened her eyes and felt the clouds dissipate. With it were the frayed edges of the shadows of fear, regret and anger. And although she knew that it will still haunt her, she was content that healing has at least begun.

After a few more moments of silence, she placed the ukelele back into the bag and glanced endearingly upon the headstone. She skimmed her fingers over her mother's name, vowing to come back soon.

She swiveled herself to the opposite direction and began the path back to the cemetery gates, when her hazel orbs fell upon a pair of familiar leather shoes and gray slacks, making her stop in her tracks.

When she titled her head to see the face she expected to see, a pair of amber eyes met hers that made her breath hitch. They were filled with warmth and affection that heated the cold air and melted her inside.

"You're not too late," Bryce finally said, breaking into the quiet. His mouth formed a lopsided smile, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black coat which edges reached to his knees.

"Seems like it," Heather replied, snapping out of the daze that suddenly came over her, lips curving. "Wait, you heard everything?"

Bryce couldn't stifle a chuckle as he nodded, the adrenaline that rushed through him earlier as he tried to track her down slowly draining from him. A new and overwhelming feeling took its place as he planted the soles of his shoes on the soft snow, bridging the gap between them.

Once he was near enough, he gently wrapped an arm around Heather's waist, pulling her close. The knuckles of his other hand brushed her jawline until his thumb grazed her chin. His gaze lingered down on hers, completely magnetized by the depths of the windows of her soul, begging for her consent.

Heather's palms settled onto the nape of his neck, her lips parting to grant him permission.

In a heartbeat, Bryce tenderly pressed his lips upon hers, releasing the long-running yearning they buried so well. Unspoken words no longer need to be said aloud, clarity dawning in them both as their mouths crashed. Soft moans escaped from them as they deepened their passionate kiss, unrestrained in expressing their newfound freedom.

When at last they stopped to catch their breaths, Bryce leaned his forehead on hers, understanding that his unrequited love was never unanswered, only delayed. That after a year of pining, here she was, standing in front of him, a realization of a dream that for so many times he willed to come true. After all the nights of hoping and hurting, he couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of her in his arms. A thought poked into his mind as he started to recall where they were.

"Well this is awkward..." the young lawyer muttered, with a sudden shift in his voice.

"Hm?" Heather's eyes snapped open, dumbfounded.

"I know I always wanted to kiss you," he grinned as he paused, before continuing, "but never in a million years did I think that the first time I did is in front of your mom."

At first her brows furrowed, but seeing Bryce's mischievous expression, Heather couldn't keep herself from laughing.

Inspired by the music of her genuine laughter, Bryce joined in. The sound of their giggles echoing through the poignant space around them.

Heather can't remember the last time when she laughed this hard. There were so many things that hung over her head that she almost forgot how to do it. But with Bryce, it came so easily. A sense of joy began to bloom in her, and when she saw the same glint in his eyes, she knew he felt exactly the same.

With their fingers intertwined and arms around each other's, they walked the path that only earlier they trudged separately. And now with their hearts finally out in the open, their tracks carved into the thin sheet of snow, unveiling the lush greens of the grass hidden beneath, eager to leaving what's behind, together.

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

#open heart #bryce lahela #open heart 2 #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #bryce lahela x mc #fics of the week #choices fic writers creations #bryce x mc

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reinahwanggg · 4 years

Text

I Miss You》 Park Jisung

credits to gif owner

pairing: jisung park x reader

word count: 1.9K

warnings: slight angst (not really)

genre: established relationship, idol au, fluff, slight angst, jisung being a caring boy, boyfriend!jisung, reader misses him, but doesn't wanna admit it

a/n: i envisioned myself in this position haha, sorry

"good night honeybee. i love you."

"good night angel! i love you always."

jisung sleepily replies, yawning into the phone, before he closed his eyes to be guided into slumber. although he knows comeback seasons does take a toll on his body, and sometimes mentality, he makes sure he calls you every night. whether it be to tell you he'll be in the dance studio until the next day, or before bed, he always tries to find time for you in his extremely busy schedule, especially since he is quite worried about you.

although it's been a few months since the entire debacle, he always wants to make sure you're safe and well. he knew that you didn't mind all of the sudden attention, and you didn't care about what everyone thought about you and him together, but sometimes he just wants to make sure you're okay.

it's obvious that he's the more vocal one in the relationship; always saying what's on his mind, telling you whenever he felt you should say or stop this, or whenever he felt angry about something petty and wanted to say it to get over it. he just has more experience in expressing his feelings to those close to him.

you, on the other hand, always kept everything bottled up inside, not necessarily saying anything, even when it bothers you, because you wouldn't want to be a bother to others, unless it ticked you off. you were always the one to express your anger for some complicated situations, but rarely to others. you find yourself as your own confidant, as your own provider, as your own push to help you through the tunnel of life.

the way you handle things, often than not, got you in some heated arguments with jisung. he just wants you to tell him when it's too much pressure. especially that day when the camera crew came in, setting a gazillion cameras inside your house, saying that the fans would love to see how you and jisung interact. he saw how uncomfortable it made you, and seeing as it's been two weeks, and you still jump when you walk in your sleepwear at 7am and see the camera following you, it's enough evidence.

yet, whenever he asks you, you brush it aside. ''i'll get used to it'' you'll always tell him, knowing fully well, you sometimes can't stand it. waking up, and pretending to be a youtuber making a get ready with me video, only for it to actually be posted, it ticks you off. yet, all you tell him is that you'll get used to it.

this situation, was no different. for the past three months, jisung has had activity after activity to go through, while trying to record content for this stupid youtube segment. most times it would split videos of him and you on the phone, laughing about some stupid meme you saw on twitter. you know, every single piece of your body misses your boyfriend; dying to be back in his arms, and snuggled with him on the couch, watching random TV shows while he randomly kisses your hair and pulls you closer.

you know that you miss him, and yearn for the day he comes and tells you that promotions are over and the frequent break in between has begun, but you don't tell him that. you don't tell him how much you miss waking up in the morning to see him dancing around the kitchen to a video of you singing one of his songs in the best voice you can muster, unintentionally burning the eggs on the stove.

you don't tell him how much you miss coming home from an interview with other artists, only to see him fixing his hair, humming puzzle piece, smiling goofily at the thought of you. you don't tell him how much you miss your rant sessions; him ranting about how close fans get sometimes, and you ranting about how much you wanna punch your coworker in the throat for her unbearably cocky attitude.

you don't tell him how much you miss last minute packing for a day trip to the other side of the country. you don't tell him how much you miss sulking on the couch, only for him to plant a million pecks and kisses on every corner of your face, until you smiled and playfully pushed him away.

before you knew it, you're sitting up in your bed, crying to yourself about how much you miss him. and for once, you want to let him know, desperately throwing away your pride and wanting him to know how much you ache for his presence, and his quirky habits, and his killer smile, and just everything he has to offer. you miss him so much, your cries get a little too loud, your breath gets a bit too heavy, and your body shakes a bit too much, but you don't care, you just miss him so much it physically hurts you.

the little lamp in the corner of your room shines a somber gold around the room, you oblivious to the fact that the cameras are on 24/7 and is catching this very moment, of your vulnerability. you are also oblivious to the fact that he didn't hang up the phone, him obviously being too tired to actually hover his finger, as he was out like a light, his little snores in the background evident to the entire thing.

"honeybee, i miss you so much. so much it hurts."

you start, your voice choked up, coming out cracked, and scratchy.

halfway through your rant, jisung wakes up, blinking a few times to himself, trying to adjust to the bright light amidst the dark room, the slightest sound of hiccups ring in his ear, an extremely nasally voice ringing out sobs and muffled words, and he automatically sits up in concern. he wants to immediately ask you what's wrong, but instead just listens to what you have to say.

"i miss how, every time you hug me, it feels like placing the last piece of the puzzle in its rightful place. honeybee i just miss how much you check up on me when i'm sick. how sometimes we take turns nightly to sing each other to sleep, you laughing when my voice cracks, or me teasing you with praises for a run you mastered. i miss playful mornings, both of us being too lazy to move, but somehow ending up dancing around the room to various artists and songs. i miss when i wake up, and you're already staring at me, the loving gaze in your eyes as you slightly smile, immediately going to plant a kiss on my big ass forehead. i miss pushing you away, and telling you to brush your teeth before you could give me a good morning kiss. i miss when you and the boys would all pile up in my house, and i would get to show you a bit of my country's cuisine, and laughing when you guys scarf it down like you haven't eaten in years. and i want to tell you all of this, but i don't want to be a burden to you. you already have a lot, with some overbearing fans, promotions, and the occasional run ins. i don't want you to focus on me only and put your feelings on the backburner like i always do. i wish i just had to courage to tell you all of this."

by the end of your rant, jisung has to wipe a few tears from his eyes, smiling sadly on the other end of the phone call, wanting to just pack his overnight bag and come to hold you, tell you that he misses you just as much, and scold you for keeping everything bottled up, like he always does.

he goes to check the time, 2:16 am it says, and he knows that he has to be up by 4am in any event, and he suddenly thanks literally everything for the sudden off day his boss gave them, because he knows for sure, after what you just confessed, he's going to surprise you. he hears some ruffling on the other side of the call, the sound of bedroom slippers hitting the tile floors, and a door opening and closing. he just hopes you're okay.

you, on the other hand, walks into your kitchen, quite starved after crying your heart out for what feels like all night, which in truth was about three hours. you flip the switch, your kitchen suddenly illuminated, and you put your hand in front of your eyes, the quick headache taking effect, and you blink repeatedly at the sudden light. you then smile, before going to your dishes, taking out your favorite bowl, and pouring some lucky charms to the brim of the bowl, before going in your refrigerator, and grabbing your milk, pouring it in as well, and grabbing a spoon.

you walk back towards the exit of the kitchen, towards the corridor that connected both the living room and the stairway in separate mazes together. suddenly flinching once you see the infamous moving camera, following you, and you roll your eyes. 'do they not need new batteries or something?' you thought to yourself, before walking upstairs to your room.

you look up at the camera on top of your vanity, and smile and tight lipped uncomfortable smile, before showing the big bowl of lucky charms and chuckling.

"cereal hits different at 2am after an emotional breakdown."

you say, chuckling once again, and happily eating your food, humming along to love again, as it plays inside your head, liking the way it sounds, and suddenly asking alexa to play it for you. it's not as loud as it would usually be, considering what time it is, and the fact that your neighbor just came back home from her long ass business trip (which you're lowkey suspicious of, because her boss came looking for her halfway through, saying if she didn't come in tomorrow then she'll be fired) and doesn't like k-pop for the life of her.

you rest your bowl by the foot of your bed, honestly too lazy to go back downstairs and place it back inside the sink. you then go to your phone, and open it, seeing as it was still on the book you were reading before jisung demanded for your attention, only to then fall asleep on you ten minutes later. you read until you notice the sun up, suddenly hearing my first and last playing around you. the doorbell ringing frequently, and you check the time.

9:48 am it reads, and you realize you read about 10 books in the span of seven hours. you shout that you'll be down in a minute and make sure jisung's hoodie is low enough, before placing your bedroom slippers back on and walking down the stairs, turning into the living room and left, towards the separate entryway (it's kind of a big ass house), opening the door, before tears blurred your vision, and you immediately scooped up from the floor, and spun around on your porch, inhaling the scent you missed for the past three months. quite happy that you were in jisung's embrace again.

you didn't question it one bit, in fact you didn't question anything, just told him to come inside and told alexa to play the song louder. coincidentally, it was Quiet Down, making both you and jisung laugh boisterously, before walking into the kitchen, and dancing to his songs, as you both made pancakes and gossiped about anything and everything, just like you missed and loved.

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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 109 1Xs2) "Welcome To The Hotel Diablo"

@crystalbaby12 @5sosfam1dlover @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @rosefilledhearts-blog

Luna and Ashley may have a strangle on the #1 slot with Nightmare sitting tight for it's seventh week but Colson continues to control a vast majority of the Billboard Top 20 Pop Charts as Hotel Diablo debuts at #5. Not only with the two hits he has with Luna and Dom but also including a few of his own singles.

I Think I'm Okay has been holding strong at #2 for the last four weeks. Keeping the #1 position on the Alternative Charts for it's third also. Bad Things having it's own place at #3 on the Pop Charts for it's third week. Hollywood Whore is up three slots, grabbing the #5 spot this week while THAT Type replaces it at #8. El Diablo is sitting at #11 for it's own consecutive week while Bebe's climbing back up alongside THAT Type as Candy makes it's entrance at #19.

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Landing in Cleveland, everyone is pumped. Luna, Pete, Sam, Benny, Ashley and Dom excitedly passing Congratulations to The Boys over Hotel Diablo's immediate success. Everyone's coming in to town tonight. Meeting up for a full performance of the album at the Agora Ballroom for fans then another more intimate performance at Velvet Dog for the album's release party.

Dispersing from the hanger, Slim heads to his own Ohio home, Baze taking Sam along with him to his. Pete, Ashley, Rook, Dom and Benny dipping out to Colson's Cleveland House to meet up with Bullet while he immediately goes over to Emma's with Luna to see Casie.

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"Oooh, Sugar... I'm so fucking proud of yooou!! You have FIVE top 20 hits right now... We're gonna have to look some shit up, Buns, because I don't think anyone's ever done that before!" Luna gushes in the back of their Uber as she sprinkles his grinning face with kisses.

"No way. I'm not breaking any Beatles or Micheal Jackson records...." He pauses. "You really think it's possible?" Colson asks with hopeful look twinkling in his brilliant eyes.

"I do...." Luna reassures him as she pulls out her phone. "Here..." She says after a quick internet search. "You haven't broken anything yet... But you're close as fuck." She shows him her phone.

Only The Beatles out rank him with six Top 10 hits from February 29 to May 2, 1964. It's actually incredible and nothing he ever expected. For one of the first times Luna watches Colson go silent.

"I can't believe it fucking debuted at Five, Baby." He lowly admits with a slight hint of red to his sweet cheeks.

"Ohh, I can. You're whole soul is on that record." Luna replies with love.

"That's what I'm afraid of..." He says even lower.

"People always resonate with honesty, Bunny." She tells him, giving her opinion. "Why you think your fan base is so strong? Because you've always been honest." She pulls his cheek over to kiss it with her words.

"I love you." He turns to grin at her again while meeting her mouth.

Somehow, Luna always knows what to say to Colson. Whether he's at his most shittiest, pushing full confidence or the lowest of his lows, she never fails on telling him the truth in how she sees things. Colson doing the same for her. Neither being aware of deeply they truly take care of each other mentally.

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"PEANUT!!!" Colson shouts with a bellowing laugh as he scoops Casie up and spins her around.

Luna and Emma watch the two of them with their hearts oozing after they had greeted each other. Without thinking, Luna laces her hand inside Emma's and lays her head against her shoulder. Slightly catching her by surprise as she easily accepts Luna's affection.

"I love the way he loves her..." Luna sighs wistfully. "He's such a great dad."

"It's one of his best qualities." Emma agrees with a smile as she holds Luna's hand a little tighter. "Think you guys'll have kids?" She asks with a genuine interest.

"I... I don't know...." Luna trails off honestly as she lifts her head up, not bothering to mention Colson or Casie's wants from her.

"I think you'd make a great mother." Emma says, looking directly at Luna. "I see you with Case and how you make Colson a better man.... Not that that's any reason to have a baby... I'm just saying... Should it come, I think you'd be really good at it."

"Wow.... Thanks. That means a lot." Luna smiles thoughtfully.

Squeezing Emma's hand, she nestles back on top of her shoulder with Emma resting her head onto Luna's. Any jealousy or disparity from NY's lunch having already dropped away. Both thankful to have the other in Casie and Colson's life above all else.

Once Colson's finished with her, Casie greets an ecstatic Luna. The young woman dipping down to squeeze the little girl with love. Coaxing her inside with the promise of a new present to her parent's amusement.

"You didn't have to do that." Emma says after Luna gives Casie the new Nikon and tries to show her how to use it.

"Photography is my first love and she mentioned how she wants to learn, so how could I not?" Luna asks with a shrug and a bright smile. "Oh... And thanks for hooking me up with Bonnie. She's been beyond wonderful!" Going on to express her gratitude over Emma's connection and friend.

"Yeah, no problem. She had mentioned last week that you guys have been in contact. I'm glad to have helped... I can't wait to see how it turns out." Emma smiles warmly at Luna.

Colson's been watching all the important females in his life intently. Truly appreciating how easily Luna and Emma have gravitated towards each other while also attending to the youngest. It's easy to see the deep respect and enjoyment they hold for each other. Even in another life, they could easily be genuine friends also.

Grabbing Casie around the neck, he wrestles her around. Many shoutings of DAD escape as she tries to wiggle away to no avail.

"Wanna come to the show tonight?" He asks her as he slightly loosens his grip. "Don't play with me." He lightly shakes her when she hesitates with a sarcastic Uhhhhmmm.

"YEAH I wanna come!!" She grins up at him. "Mom, can I?" She asks looking over.

"Yeah, Ma. Please." Colson pleads with her as he smirks.

"Ash gonna be there?" Emma asks to Colson's nod. "She'll bring her home after the show?"

"Lemme check." Colson reassures her as he let's go of Casie and digs into his pocket.

While Colson's on the phone, Luna chats with Emma about an array of things. Tonight's shows and the upcoming weddings along with Casie's findings and her adventures during the tour. Their conversation flowing easily while Luna continues helping the little girl figure out how to take pictures with her latest, prized possession. Her attentiveness not being lost upon the mother just like her dad.

"Ash said she can drop her off tonight before the album release party and then I'll just pick her up tomorrow before the Pop Up." Colson interupts them when heading back into the kitchen.

"And you'll keep her until when?" Emma asks.

Colson looks at Luna. "Uhhhh..." He hesitates.

"My girlfriend Deanna is flying in on Monday to try to finish up the wedding fittings... So Tuesday by the latest if that's okay?" She shrugs at Colson before looking at Emma.

With Casie's eyes pleading and her body hopping around her, it's hard for Emma to resist. Not that there's any reason to. Laughing, she says Yes to her daughter's excited hugs and kisses.

After Luna convinces Casie to leave her camera at home tonight, they hug and kiss Emma GoodBye. Arrival texts being promised as always before the trio wave GoodBye from inside the Uber.

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Back at The House, Colson's stoked to find Mod, Noah, Phem and Caroline. Along with a ton of packages and everyone else. Opening the boxes, he starts to shout for The Gang.

"Yo!! Pull up!!" He hollers. "I got one for you. And one for you. One for you and for you...." He says, handing the small boxes to Caroline, Phem, Mod and Noah before calling the others over that aren't within his long arm's reach.

A box goes to Slim, Pete, Baze, Casie, Rook, Dom, Benny, Bullet, Ashley and even Sam. He sets two boxes to the side for Ashleigh and Dub. Along with a handful of other's, amongst them are ones for Naomi, Trippie and Skies. Pulling Luna close, he hands her hers.

"Aight, bitches open 'EM!!" He shouts with a huge chuckle and grin.

Inside the box is a beautiful, thin, platinum and diamond encrusted Double X pendant on a slim rope chain.

"You're determined to have yourself all over me, hunh?" Luna asks with a snicker as she looks up at him.

"You fucking know it! Two rings, two tattoos, two necklaces. Two times, Kitten. Two times!" He grins wider at their inside joke while scooping her up to kiss her as Thank Yous explode all around them.

"GANG!! GANG!!" Slim shouts as he throws his arms up into an X.

Colson puts on Luna's necklace as Ashley helps Casie with hers. Everyone else assisting one another. Walking into the kitchen, Luna grabs a can of Sprite and an armful of beers. Passing them around, she opens Casie's soda before cracking her own beverage.

🎼Mothafuckas//KNOW//Who rides wit THIS Gang//By the way we be rockin'//Our Double X chains//They too soft//To know//HOW HARD UP WE CAME// Still swangen' around//Keepen' that//Bangen' A Rang thang//Got the baddest bitch//Locked wit tattoos and a rang//Checkin' into HOTEL DIABLO//You know shit's gon' be//FUCKIN' INSANE🎶

Colson shouts, bouncing around as they toast to Family and Hotel Diablo. His intimate circle hooting at his epic freestyle while Luna rolls her eyes and kisses his jawbone. In his soul he is still very much a Wild Boy.

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"Oh, Bunny..." Luna coos as her thighs tighten around Colson's waist.

They're upstairs in the shower getting ready for Colson's Big Night. He grips her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, thrusting him deeper inside of her. Both are panting in the steamy air as they suck on and fuck each other passionately. Pulling on the other's hair as their bodies throb and they pound themselves into one another.

"Fuck Kitten, you ready?" Colson gasps when he feels himself tingle from the upcoming explosion.

"Mmmhmmmm...." She moans as she bucks against him faster, giving them both permission to let go.

"Fuuuuuuuck....." They both sigh out in content as Colson continues to hold Luna and they rest their faces in each other's necks.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I have something for you..." Luna says while they're both still naked from their ShowerFuck, offering up her black portfolio case after finding it amongst their luggage.

"What's this?" He asks with intrigue, remembering the last gift the leather casing had held for him.

"Fuck.... I gotta get that framed." He suddenly thinks. "It'd be perfect in The Brownstone...." His mind drifts as he begins to muse to himself.

"Open it..." She encourages him with a gleaming smile. "I've been working on it for a minute..." She says as her lips drop into a tiny secret.

Unzipping the case, Colson is presented with another canvas. This time displaying an oversized painted replica of their punked out bunny. The background is a deepish purple with edgy whisps of creams and light colored violets flowing through out it. Making the hints of color in the white cartoon animal pop out of it's heavy black outline. The feeling easily representing Hotel Diablo's black and purple atheistic.

Arranged around their matching tattoo, with some items being embedded into the canvas, are physical pieces from The Tour. Their key card from The Watergate, the crumpled receipt from their coffee order in Detroit, a ticket stub from the planetarium in Texas. Amongst them is also the peeled off lable from their bottle of SpringBack 1919 they had shared in the San Francisco speakeasy and her BackStage pass from the Pittsburgh show. All secured and decorated with a slight black outline to showcase each of them.

A little larger than his huge thumb are eight small, intimate pictures of the two of them sprinkled throughout. Some are selfies but other's aren't. Luna breaking her own rule and using other's photography in her art. Angled in the the bottom right corner, in a black and light purple twist, lays a mutilated copy of Luna's lips spelling out Bad Things. Dotted in an iridescent paint to make it sparkle in dark wonderment. Fully tying the whole piece together.

Luna's art is truly like no other's. Combining multi-medias and dimensions with her muse's soul lingering inside of it. Colson's eyes are wide the way they were the night she gave him his first gift.

"Ready?" She asks, popping the switch sitting underneath as he stares silently holding her work.

Their bunny's eyes light up in a low, blue glow from the tiny bulbs buried deep inside the canvas. Colson's heart stops. Reminding him exactly of the night they met.

"Holy fuck, it's beautiful." His heart explodes once it begins to beat again. "How the FUCK does she do this shit...." He thinks in admiration as he continues to look it over.

"Wow." Is all he can say as he stares at his gift.

Luna watches as Colson takes his time absorbing the new piece. Her soul gleaming as he excitedly points out all their little memories. Once he's fully taken it in and sets it down, Colson pulls her in with one strong arm by her waist. Giving her a meaningful kiss.

"You like?" Luna asks with soft eyes and a loving smile.

"I fucking LOVE." He easily declares.

"Cool." Luna smirks, replying just the same as before as she kisses him back and wraps her arms around his waist.

"Thank you." He tells her as he runs his long fingers along her wet skull until his large hands cradle her head.

Colson kisses Luna with a passionate gratitude. Dipping their naked bodies onto the bed, he slowly and sweetly makes love to her. Taking his time as he softly kisses her while overfilling her body with himself. Running her hands lightly along his body, Luna enjoys their tenderness.

"Oh SHIIIIT..." Luna lowly moans as he kindly gives them both exactly what they want.

Sighing contently, wrapped in each other Luna and Colson let their kisses linger on each other's lips. Genuine and truthful I Love Yous being passed between them as they enjoy their quiet, intimate moment together.

Finally gathering themselves, they proceed to burn and chatter together as usual while they get dressed. Colson still railing his preference of Adderall while Luna pops her own three percs. She's trying hard but the gaping hole that ripped her shoulder muscles in two REALLY fucking HURTS.

Colson's dressed in all black while Luna pulls on loose, ripped jeans and a white crop top. A red and black flannel loosely tied around her waist as her hair flows wildly with a touch of natural curl.

"Make sure you wear your ring tonight." Colson tells her as he pecks the top of her head.

"Always do..." Luna gives him a weird look as she tosses up both hands, wiggling her fingers to display each of her beloved rings.

"Fucking better." He taunts her, slapping and jiggling her ass cheek to her pleased giggles as they walk out of the bedroom.

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The Agora Ballroom is sold out and jam packed. Colson is putting on a special concert to debut Hotel Diablo in full to ONLY his hometown.

Everyone is there. Colson, Ashleigh and The Boys. Luna, Casie, Pete Ashley, Dom, Sam and Benny. Mod's there, so is Caroline and Noah. Trippie Redd, Naomi Wild and Lil Skies all coming through along with Phem to perform their features. Backstage easily overflowing with artists and friends as Dub and Johnny come trickling in with a few other long time Cleveland friends. Sporadic industry pals making their way around also.

"What's happenin', My Dude?" Colson happily greets his friend with a dap and huge hug.

"Nutten' man... Worken' on the album, taken' care of Baby Girl. You know how it be.... What's poppin' wit 'chu?" Dub asks nodding in Luna's direction.

"You talk to Slim, hunh?" Colson shakes his head with a grin.

"More than your bitch ass." He replies with a joking tone.

Colson can see Luna but with the crowded room it's hard to get her attention. "Thanks Tommy." He thinks, smiling to himself, knowing exactly how to grab her.

"Hold up." He tells Dub before cupping his mouth with is hands and hollering "BROOOOKLYYN!!"

"This man..." Luna's mind laughs as she looks for Colson. Catching his eye quickly, she smiles brightly at him. "FUCK, I love his stupid ass." Her brain continues to tease her as she makes her way towards him.

"What's up, Ya Nut?" She chuckles once she reaches him, standing on her tippy toes to kiss his lowered cheek.

"Kitten, this is one of my bestfriends Dub. Dub-O... My Bitch, Luna fucking Smith." Colson beams with pride as he introduces the two.

"It's so nice to finally meet you! The way Colson talks about you, I feel like I already kinda know you." Luna says warmly as Dub loosely accepts her hug.

"That's funny because he ain't told me shit about you." He answers her with a snide look at Colson.

"Oh. No pleasantries? Straight to the Gate? Aight. What's good?" Luna's tone changes immediately as she pops her chin out with her last words.

Colson starts to laugh when Dub's top lip snarls at her fierce response. Cocky in his own right, Dub doesn't hesitate to hit back.

"You tell me, seems you always got my boy caught up in some shit." He cuts.

"Excuse me?" Luna draws back with her eyebrows furrowed.

"What the fuck you talkin' about Dub-O?" Colson jumps in with a slight attitude, just as confused as Luna.

"The streets speak, Kells." Dub says turning to Colson. "Word is Eminem's gunnen' for you even harder after whatever YOUR bitch pulled in Detroit." He continues as he shoots a glare at Luna.

"Motherfucker, you're out 'chour mind." Luna laughs at him. "And your streets don't know SHI..."

Colson cuts her off before she can finish, questioning his friend "What the FUCK you talken' about, Dawg? Luna held shit down as always and fuck that little bitch ass pussy. Let him come see me. I'll fuck his punk ass up again." Colson spits out.

"Bunny, don't." Luna says as she slips her hand into Colson's, both knowing she's trying to hit that natural anxiety reducer. "Look, I don't know what you heard and honestly, I don't care because it ain't right." She says directly to Dub before looking up at Colson then back at him. "But you better believe..." Luna continues looking straight into Dub's eyes as she points at him with her free finger. "Imma give you a legit reason not to like me if you fuck up his night... Because bestfriends don't do that shit." Luna states coldly before grabbing Colson's chin, planting a solid kiss on the side of his jaw and stalking away.

"WHAT THE FUCK DUB-O?" Colson balks angrily.

"I had to see if she could hang." Dub smirks at Colson bewildered confusion. "Slim said she rides hard for you, I had to see how hard." He laughs lightly with a shrug.

"You're a fucking DickHead." Colson snickers once he realizes what his friends play was. "Yo, you better get correct with her, she ain't nothin' to be fuckin' wit." Colson begins to laugh as he shakes his head.

"I see... Something tells me she can take a joke though." Dub laughs louder with amusement along with his old friend as he Buddy Slaps on the back.

"Actually, her fucked up ass probably would appreciate your stupidity." Colson continues laughing as the two of them turn towards the BackStage madness.

Luna's grooving. She'd love for all of Colson's friends to like her but unlike him, she doesn't give a flying fuck if they do. Honestly, she could give a flying fuck if anyone likes her. The less people that like her, means the less people that she has to unwillingly talk to.

Oddly enough, she's a hypocritical social butterfly. Floating around as she hangs out with their friends and kindly introduces herself to Naomi, Trippie and Lil Skies. Meaningfully gushing and talking to each of them regarding their personal contribution to Hotel Diablo. Going as far to tease Trippie about his Plan B, yeah. She loves the whole album, how could she not express her adoration and appreciation towards their work on it.

"Kitten..." Colson calls for her.

"You're on in 20." Ashleigh says, trying to redirect him.

"Hold on." He says putting up his index finger. "BROOKLYN!!" He says a little louder catching her attention.

"Hmmm?" Luna asks once she reaches him.

"I FUCKING love-LOOOOVE YOU!! He declares as he wraps a long arm around her waist and plunks a heart felt kiss onto her lips.

"Love you, Bunny." Luna giggles in sheer content as she pulls him in for a tight lip lock. "Fuckin' kill 'em." She grins as she squeezes his ass and sends him OnStage.

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The Band had been teasing his unknowing fans all throughout June with Sex Drive as they waited for his set to begin. Those who had experienced it, make the connection immediately and are going wild. As Cara's voice floats over top of them, welcoming them to The Hotel Diablo, the venue erupts into an excited explosion.

Colson is electric and in rare form tonight. The success of his album finally sinking in has him running, dancing and jumping like an overexcited puppy.

Luna's SideStage with Casie, Ashley, Pete, Ashleigh, Sam, Dom and a few others kicking out the lyrics to El Diablo as they bounce to the contagious hit. Jumping and pumping their fists as they pass bottles of Jamison and rattle along with Colson.

🎶I KNOW//PEOPLE HATE ME//JUST BY MY APPEARANCE//YOU MOTHERFUCKERS//CAN'T BE SERIOUS//EH🎶

Luna and Ashleigh shout as they bop together and thrust their fists into the air. Dropping their curled hands as they continue spouting about throwing dice and keeping their circle tight. Spinning their fingers in the air as they groove and grin at each other laughing. Pete headlocks Luna making Ashley shove him as AJ opens up with Hollywood Whore. Stopping them all in their tracks as the sweet reminder of Chester radiates through their souls.

Riding the riff side by side, they recite the lyrics alongside Colson. Happily joining them is Mod, Noah, Caroline, Phem, Johnny and Dub. Whose intently watching Luna. There was only a half truth to his rudeness towards her. He don't trust THAT Bitch at all. He also hasn't spoken to Slim in a week either.

As the bass kicks in the group of them slam into each other. Luna holding Casie's hand and protecting her with her body as they continue to sing along and bash into one another. The crowd is insane. Shouting the chorus along with Colson as he raps about two faces trying to fit in to his world when there's no new space while wanting to get him to commit third degree murder. Undercover exposing those who tried to play him like a Hollywood Whore in the City of Danger. Watching Colson rip into his guitar makes Luna's nipples hard as her pussy begins to salivate for him. He's fucking hot. On and off stage.

Colson talks to his family about the relevance of the song as the main chords to Glass House lowly play behind him. He mentions how he misses too many of his friends. Chester, Nipsey, Mac... Too many to list. Luna can hear his voice break slightly as he asks the crowd to sing along with him and Naomi.

Luna doesn't sing. She can't. It's one of the many songs on this album that breaks her heart too much. Holding Casie against her, she wraps her arms around the little girl's shoulders as she tries to hold back her tears. The ballroom is shouting along with Naomi as she begs to be thrown into damn flames and to be buried with gold chains. Luna braces herself and Casie for the most gut wrenching part of the entire album.

🎶Lately//I've been sick of livin'//And nobody knows//How I'm really feelin'//I always hated to smile//But I keep//What is killing me//Hidden inside//I didn't sign up//To be the hero//But I don't want//To wind up a villain//I put my daughter to bed//Then attempted//To kill myself//In the kitchen//Yeah//I should've screamed//But//Nobody listenedSo I passed out//With the blood drippin'//In this glass house//Feelin' like a prison//Me and death//Keep tongue-kissin'//I just fell out//With my lil' bro//The life gettin' to us//The drink gettin' to us//The drugs gettin' to us//It's highway to hell//And everybody knew//What the fuck//Were we doin'?🎶

Colson runs the bars flawlessly. Luna can't help the tears that drop from her eyes as her breath shudders. The truth of his lyrics are too painfully as she holds Casie a little bit tighter. With her mind flashing back to Justin's blank eyes she can't help the range of emotions she feels while thinking of Casie dealing with Colson in the same situation. Luna closes her eyes as she holds the little girl close and wishes for the song to end.

It does. The context of the next song isn't any easier though as Burning Memories kicks in. Colson's words shattering Luna's heart into a million pieces. The recording is nothing compared to his live voice finally asking his mother how she could leave him for another. Luna can only slightly vibe with everyone else as they sing about him dying before he wakes. Lil Skies comes out to the crowd's cheers to ask for Love and Truth before Luna's soul flips with the liquor in her stomach as Colson sings along with his fans about their dark days coming in the summer. Feeling the rumble of their voices, Luna finds it both amazing and soul wrenching that the album only dropped this morning, yet almost the whole venue knows all of it's intimate words.

Ashleigh grabs Luna's loose hand as she watches the blood drain from her face and tears drop from her unknowing eyes. Her touch and Pete's voice asking about More Dracula as him and Colson laugh and recreate the skit OnStage pulls Luna back to her senses.

"You okay?" Ashleigh asks her friend with concern.

"Yeah... It's just harder to hear it live." Luna sighs.

"I know..." Ashleigh squeezes her hand.

The lead up beat to Floor 13 starts flowing through their blood and Luna is quickly out of her wicked head. Smiling at Ashley, they rapid fire the lyrics at each other along with Colson. Luna laughs when he mentions what will happen upon a physical run in and Casie's hands. Rocking her good shoulder into the tiny Baker, Luna grins at her. Shooting finger guns at each other as they let off with her daddy.

🎶I heard that//They call me//Yeeeah//Let 'em in//I got somethin'//For 'em//Yeeeeah//Please forgive my sins//Blood on my//Ralph Laureeen//I can't wash this shit//Wake up//Say//Good morninnnn//Like I forgot🎶

Laughing, Luna swings Casie around from behind after singing the chorus together. Whispering Hotel Diablo along with her ASMR into her ear with a giggle. Casie cheeses while squealing and squirming out of Luna's grasp. Grabbing Pete and Ashleigh's hands as her dad kicks into Roulette.

This is Luna's favorite song on the album. She happily dances, sings and raps along with Noah, Mod, Ashley and everyone else about that Mothafucken' Rida Music. Sliding her thumb along her latest gift, Luna keeps her body rolling as she drags the double X along it's shiny string. Her and Noah grinning at one another as they share another bottle of Jamison and ask the other how many times they're gonna play with death before their 30yrs old. Cause they're chosen.

Things lighten up as The Boys joke around about Baze being Truck Norris. They were so fucked up the night Slim drunkenly tried to compare him to Family Guy skit with Chuck Norris's beard that none of them would have even remembered if it wasn't recorded. It's Benny's laugh that highlights the inside joke placed track, bringing a much needed lightness to the heavy album.

Naomi comes back in as her voice haunts the crowd. Taunting them as she sings about death in her pocket and how she feels so alive. Luna and Casie are holding hands again as they recite the lyrics along with Colson as he reminisces about him and Slim trappen'. Before he can mention his worry about passing down his addictive genes Sam scoops Casie up from behind. With so many people SideStage, this is the first time Sam has been able to make her way over to her smaller friend.

"What up, Homie!!" Sam laughs as she kisses Casie on the side of the cheek.

"SAMMY!!" Casie shouts excitedly as she turns to hug the dark haired drummer.

"I missed YOU!" Sam exclaims as she sprinkles kisses all over Casie's face. "I got you something..." She says as she digs in her pocket.

Candy is floating through the back Luna's mind as she watches Sam present Casie with three small band pins. "Who is this person?" She laughs to herself. "I wonder if this is how it felt with me..." She thinks of how six months ago she wouldn't have touched a child with a 10ft pole but now couldn't imagine not loving Casie. "Life is so fucking weird..."

"Shit Loons, I'm so sorry!" Ashleigh interupts her thoughts. "You're on in like 10 and I know you're not dressed."

"5:3666 is up after this, then me?" Linda asks as she hears Colson's opening chords to I Think I'm Okay.

"Yeeeeah..." Ashleigh answers sheepishly.

"Fuck it, how do I look because I'm not missing this song." Luna grins as she displays herself to Colson's manager.

"Great as always." She sighs out a laugh of honest relief.

"Then let's FUCKING GOOO!!" Luna shouts, grabbing her hand.

Pulling Ashleigh along, she rallies Casie, Sam and Ashley. Easily pushing their way to front right stage. Holding hands, jumping and screaming along with Colson, Dom and their fans, the group of girls rage.

🎶Watch me//Take a good thing//And fuck it all up//In one night//Catch me//I'm the one on the run//Away from the headlights//No sleep//Up all week//Wasting time//With people I don't like//I think//That something's//FUCKING wrong with me🎶

Everyone goes ballistic as Dom sings his solo. The venue is throbbing as they continue to rip through the pop punk song. Dropping their guitars, both boys jump into the ocean of waiting hands as they continue to sing together.

Climbing back OnStage, they grab their guitars again. Finishing out the song with multiple layered, intense GoodNights. The voices singing along with them so powerful, Luna swears she can feel the stage shake.

"Give it up for my brother, YungBlud!!" Colson shouts to the crowd's roars.

Phem joins The Band OnStage. Her moody voice wrapping around Colson's equally dark lyrics perfectly. His EST Fam chanting word for word with him. There is not one person in that building who isn't a Machine Gun Kelly fan. As the song comes to an end the ASMR of Luna and Colson in the studio plays over the speakers, making the walls shake in anticipation.

Dub continues to watch Luna as she swigs the bottle once more before disappearing. Like most people, he's not quite sure what he thinks of her.

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

"Meh... Ash and Case seem to like her and she definitely ain't a member of The Slut Squad...." Dub thinks to himself while observing Luna. "Maybe she ain't as bad as Slim made her out to be.... She definitely got an attitude." He chuckles to himself. "Kells needs that though. Fuck... I don't know... who am I to judge.... Especially if Case and Ash bang wit her... Guess we just gonna have to see..." Dub decides as he watches Luna head OnStage.

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

They start off as they have the many times before. Luna opening up delicately at the piano before Colson leads her out and The Boys kick in heavy behind them. Slaying his guitar, he raps about giving one another life while suffocating in the other's kiss. Bouncing around the stage, buzzing and teasing one another while promising each other how they'll want them forever and take them where ever.

🎶I'm just a LunaTic//With her Gunn//When we're together//Bad Things happen//The way you touch me//Is better than ecstasy//When we're not together//I still feel you//Coursing through me🎶

Luna and Colson hit the second chorus again together as Rook slams into his kit and Colson continues to shred his guitar. He tosses it SideStage as he joins her for last few verses. Pulling her in close as their bodies rock together and rush for the other. Grabbing her hand The Band drops away as they harmonize the last lyrics together.

🎶I'm all in//There is no maybe🎶

As they finish, Colson twirls her out. Letting go of her hand, Luna stops. Drops her head back with her arms at different angles and pops one knee. The response to their performance is volcanic. The crowd erupting for an ENCORE as the lights begin to go down.

Colson can't hear them, just his one thought. "I am going to FUCK the shit outta her..." His mouth salivating as he scoops her up to invade her willing mouth.

"You're so fucking hot." He pants as he continues to kiss her. "I wanna run an encore for El Diablo. What do you think? We'll get everybody OnStage?"

"Fuck YEAH!" Luna agrees kissing him back. "You tell The Boys, I'll grab everyone else." She grins.

"I fucking LOVE YOU." Colson tells her with a light laugh as he kisses her once more before they seperate for their missions.

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Word Limit 1 of 2

To be continued....

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spookyspaghettisundae · 4 years

Text

Things Below

Voices. Voices, everywhere. Emily peered out the window from the backseat of the patrol car. Locked in, but free to hear all these confusing voices. She could hear the thoughts of the people the car drove past, picking up fallout from the minds of people on the sidewalk.

“He gave me too much change. Tough shit, sucker. I’m not telling and I’m keeping it. Those stores are insured against this kind of—”

“I’m late, I’m late, I’m late; oh my god, I’m gonna lose my job. What about—”

“I forgot to lock the front door. To hell with whatever he’s saying, I’m sure as hell that I forgot—”

“Stop staring, dumbass. Jeeze, I think I need to jack off in a bathroom stall, otherwise she'll—”

Emily didn’t even care about reading the thoughts themselves. She used to figure people to be thinking drivel like this just by looking at them. No, the reporter wanted to see how well she could focus this ability—how well she could control it. As far as she was concerned, she had developed a superpower. With it, she could change the world.

Only one thing gave her reason for pause; gave her a reason to worry. If she wasn’t dreaming—if this all was real—then it meant the demon she had met at the delicate age of 21 had been real, too.

The edges of her vision turned into streaks, stretching into infinity, blending together in a wild blur of colors and shapes. She only caught glimpse of their faces, all unimportant and forgotten within seconds, but their thoughts reached her mind in fragments, like a rain of glass shards falling into a bottomless pit. Clipped, ripped out of context—like switching rapidly through radio stations and never hearing anything out.

Officer Stanton glanced back at Emily through the rearview mirror. Judging by his furrowed brow, he was concerned about her mental well-being. That was when she realized that her head kept bobbing erratically, moving on a constant swivel. She must have looked like a crazy person to this cop.

“Your nose,” he said after clearing his throat and training his eyes on the road again.

Confounded, Emily dabbed her nose, only to find blood on her fingers.

The splitting headache set in. Or it had been there all along, except that it now cranked the dial to eleven in the very second she stopped tuning in to the thoughts of all the passers-by. She muttered a short curse and a emitted a soft, nervous chuckle.

Looked like the superpower came with a little price tag.

But it had already paid off. Under other circumstances, she would have had to go out on a limb in trusting this “Officer Stanton.” Letting him lock her into the backseat like a common suspect or criminal. But what choice did she have? A bomb turned her apartment block into a blazing inferno, she woke up naked in a dumpster, and she had no phone, no money, and was now wearing the borrowed clothes of her friend Maria—who probably had her pegged as crazy and she should never talk to again.

Scanning Stanton’s thoughts had revealed a certain level of surprising purity. Blue-eyed, this shmuck hadn’t seen anywhere near the amount of horrid things Emily had seen in her time as an investigative reporter, looking into human trafficking and pedophile rings. He was as concerned as she was about Detective Tanner, her single only trustworthy contact in the police—who had gone missing.

Reading Stanton’s mind, Emily knew that this cop had his heart in the right place and was going out on a limb himself. She looked and sounded like a crazy person, had no identification, and lied to him first thing upon their meeting. He had a lot to lose himself.

And she couldn’t tell him everything she had witnessed.

“I was drugged and abducted,” she had admitted to him in that first encounter. Only part of the truth she could speak without sounding like she had lost every last marble.

The other part involved what she could only describe as a trip into hell, where she was hounded by an antagonistic demon she dubbed “Stinky Jim.”

Eight years ago, Emily met Stinky Jim for the first time, though she did not have such a name for the demon yet. Had she known it was real, she would have lost her mind. She would have been the Other Emily, the Lost Emily—the one sitting in a padded cell, rocking back and forth, gibbering, and disconnected from reality.

If her recent awakening—the event since when she could read minds and bend space itself—had taught her anything, then it was that reality itself was a strained, malleable concept.

Even human identity crumbled in the face of enlightened scrutiny.

Back when she was 21, working the sixth McJob in a row before she got smart, got her GED, and got into studying to become a reporter; she still hung out in a basement with the rest of the “gang.”

She remembered that night with stunning clarity. The edges on everything remained sharp. The dive in the basement of the home of Rodney’s parents had burned itself into the pages of her memory.

Her birthday—the night Emily turned 21.

Both on the surface and in all things below, she was a different person. Dyed her hair pink, piercings in her ears and on her brow, royal blue lipstick, torn heavy metal T-shirts. Loved ranting about politics, economy, and social justice; but never lifted a finger to do a damned thing about it.

Just like then. They were sitting in Rodney’s parents’ basement, sprawled out over ratty old couches and chairs with the TV set and old video game consoles, smoking weed, and the four boys listening to one of her many unnumbered tirades on LGBTQ+ rights.

“Shut the fuck up if you ain’t gonna do anything ‘bout it,” Chris told her. “Gay Chris,” as he was nicknamed, which didn’t bother him at all once they grew older—he wore the name like a badge of pride.

His voice cracked as he kept the smoke from the bong in his lungs and passed it on to Carlos, and Chris added, “The fuck do you know about any of that, straightie?”

That stunned Emily. That’s when everything clicked for her. When it all changed. Speechless, she silently agreed with him. Everything she knew about the gay experience was theoretical or secondhand, drawing from Chris’ experiences.

But that’s when she found her true calling.

She wouldn’t “shut the fuck up about it.” She refused to, because it would have been against her nature. She would do the legwork, and tell the world. She would relay the truth, even when it hurt, or when it got her and others into hot water. That would be her strength. Her destiny.

It would take till the end of that week and some feverish reading until she figured out that journalism was the way for her to go, but that was the same night when Emily really took the reins of her life into her own hands, and forged the path she now followed with furious determination.

Carlos chortled, then took a long toke from the bong before passing it on to Rodney. Emily remained silent.

With her most recent rant dead in the water, and the only active water being the one making the bubbling and churning sounds whenever anybody inhaled another hit from the bong, her thoughts drifted. The night of her birthday dragged on like many others in this very place, the matter of her birthday only standing out by the amount of weed they would have burned through by the end of the night.

She loved these boys like her brothers. Loved the countless nights they spent together, shooting the shit about their work, their messes of what could barely be described as love lives, playing video games together on the couch in this same basement and getting into swearing matches more heated than the actual gameplay, going to metal concerts together, or talking about philosophy and spirituality into the ungodliest hours of the morning.

Some time around 2 AM, Carlos had already passed out. He snored in the corner with a pile of empty potato chip bags and plastic bottles piled onto him like a work of art. Chris had gone home to get some sleep because of an early shift the next day. Only Jimmy, Rodney, and Emily remained. Stabbing Westward’s Ungod was playing back from the old iPod in a soft volume.

Rodney climbed back onto the couch and slid onto the cushions between Jimmy and Emily. His eyes were bloodshot from all the beer and weed they had been kicking back and he gave her a stupid grin.

“Got something special for this special occasion,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.

He unfolded his fingers and presented three little things. To Emily, they looked like stamps or pieces of perforated cardboard just resting on his palm, each of them marked with a pastel yellow smiley face.

Before either Emily or Jimmy could ask, Rodney said, “LSD, hoes. Lucy seeing diamonds—in the sky—or something. So, uh, anyway, how about we go on a real trip?”

Jimmy’s brow furrowed and Emily snickered at him. Buff Jimmy over there, the racing car enthusiast who loved tuning cars and speeding in them, accustomed to acting like the biggest badass of their little gang, was now all skeptical and intimidated by this harmless-looking drug resting in Rodney’s hand.

“Fuck it, why not?” Emily asked.

“Nah, I’ll pass,” Jimmy predictably said. “Y'know what, you should too. Also, I should get back home and get some sleep.”

Jimmy scrambled to leave, looking half asleep already, and muttered a goodbye to Carlos who continued to snore away, oblivious to everything going on now.

“Pussy,” Emily called out after Jimmy just before he flipped her off and closed the basement door behind himself.

Rodney and Emily got a good laugh out of Jimmy’s departure. Then Rodney turned his head and waggled his eyebrows at her, holding out the three slips of LSD still.

“I could put one back, or one of us takes two of ‘em,” he said, letting his voice rise sharply towards the end in challenge.

Emily squinted and then snatched two of them out of his palm.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me, I guess,” she said, grinning with him in challenge, wondering if he wasn’t going to chicken out himself.

She stuck her tongue out at him like she was about to lick Rodney’s face, then placed the two pieces of LSD on her tongue and retracted it. Swallowed.

“How long?” she asked.

“My dick?”

“Fuck you.”

Rodney cackled and told her it would take two hours. They settled on re-watching Scream—one of Emily’s favorite horror movies. They talked over the flick, as usual. Laughed as Carlos turned over in his sleep at one point, knocking over the pyramid of junk piled onto him without even waking up, and they both wondered loudly if they weren’t going to have a horror trip if they watched a horror movie while tripping on LSD, like the idiots they were.

The movie ended and Emily still couldn’t tell if the drug was having any effect on her system.

“Get me another beer, beer bitch,” she told Rodney, softly kicking him in his thigh while she drooped lazily over the other half of the couch.

He got up and went to the small fridge in the corner of the room. She blinked and wondered why he did that without giving her any lip. Even on her birthday, Rodney wasn’t wont to do what she told him to. Returning to her, he uncapped the bottle of beer and held it out to her.

She took it and looked at him in disbelief. Rodney himself looked befuddled. He blinked and looked around. Was the LSD finally kicking in for him? If so, why was it taking so long for her?

If him tripping balls meant he was a compliant little sheep, she was going to have some fun with this. She pulled out her flip phone and started recording a grainy video on the device.

“Hey, Rodney, why don’t you stand on one foot and spin around in a circle for the audience,” she told him, biting her lip and sensing that he would do exactly as told.

And he did. Almost stumbling over the coffee table and falling onto his ass in the process, he did exactly that. Emily covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. She stared at him through the display of her phone, making sure to capture his dumbfounded facial expressions.

“Rodney, tell the world how much of a little skanky whore you are,” she said, mouth agape with a grin so wide that it almost hurt her cheeks.

“I’m such a little skanky whore that I’d eat Paris Hilton’s ass with whipped cream and a cherry on top,” he said, slurring it out as if his consciousness slipped farther away into a trance or delirium with each additional word.

Emily burst out laughing, “You will never live this one down when the others see the video, dipshit.”

Yet something crept up behind Emily. A dark, foreboding sense of something alien and sinister. It only reached the back of her mind with a delay: she heard Rodney’s thoughts before he did or said anything that she told him to. Or rather, she projected her self into him and he complied, pliable like a piece of wet cardboard.

These thoughts made more sense now, in the present, when she knew she could read minds. But back then, she had chalked it up to the acid trip. The day after, she would go back to her normal life, letting the details fade away into oblivion, dismissing them as nightmarish nonsense.

Except for the knock on the door.

Not the door leading in and out of the basement, but the door to the boiler room. A room where nobody should have been inside.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she stared at it, wide-eyed and terrified. Rodney followed her gaze because she willed him to pay just as much attention to it.

Knock knock. Again.

Or rather: THUMP THUMP. Deep, bass. Menacing.

“Rodney, go check on the clown hiding in there,” Emily told Rodney, not even thinking things through. She couldn’t even chalk it up to the booze and drugs.

All she knew was that she feared whatever awaited behind that door.

Like sleepwalking, Rodney approached the boiler room door. Twisted the knob. Opened it.

A soft red light glowed, engulfing him. A light out of this world. It flickered, danced—like flames. But no heat or fire awaited beyond the door. Only madness.

Emily walked there herself, intrigued by the mysterious light. Her whole body tingled with dread, yet she could not help but approach. She knew deep down, lurking beneath the surface of her thoughts, that something evil awaited there. Something that would drive her insane. She didn’t need to approach, should have turned and fled from Rodney’s basement. But curiosity won out over common sense.

She stood next to him and peered into the place beyond the door.

There was no boiler room there. Instead of the dingy little room with the big cylindrical something, some old plastic crates, and a bunch of pipes and valves—a flight of stairs stretched down, winding around a curve. The fiery red light flickered from the depths, beckoning her.

“Rodney, go lie down and sleep.”

He acknowledged her order, not speaking the affirmation out loud but just thinking it. Emily, however, didn’t even register how the thought had reached her like a spoken word. She could taste his dread riding on the back of those thoughts—salty, smooth, bitter, clamping his throat shut and cutting his breath short.

But her eyes fixated on these stairs. Made of obsidian, covered in strange, indecipherable symbols, bearing names on each step. Names of the lost and the damned. The forgotten and the famous. She could not read them, but she knew the names were important. She would read them again one day, but that was not this day.

Rodney laid down onto the couch and fell asleep within an instant. His thoughts turned into a soup of drugged dreaming and Emily shut them out, probing for any presence at the bottom of those stairs. To see if anything dwelt there, any things below.

“Come on down and find out,” something replied. Not in words, but thoughts. Smoky, crackling like wood in a fireplace, with embers rising into a dark and starry night.

Emily took her first step down those stairs in this other-space. Then another. And another. She tread down this path, and the stairwell narrowed as it twisted and turned on her way downward. She burned with curiosity to find what things lay hidden in the depths.

The door slammed shut behind her and something laughed. Something in a deep, bellowing baritone, like a monster straight out of some horror movie. The laughter died down into a chortle, egging her on to turn around and see for herself.

Fear overtook her and prevented her from turning to behold this demon. This madness. She knew it was there, right behind her. Fetid breath rhythmically struck the exposed skin of the back of her neck. The thing was huge, like a man two heads taller than her.

“If you don’t have the balls to look at me, then you better keep movin’, little girl,” the demon spoke to her, cackling some more. The words carried the air of a threat. “What are you afraid of finding down here, anyway?”

More laughter. Sinister. Knowing. Knowing her deepest, darkest desires, and secrets she would learn in the future

Her heart thumped against her chest, pounding so hard that it threatened to explode out of her rib cage any minute now. And whether she was tripping on the LSD, having an overly vivid nightmare, or this was indeed real, she dreaded turning around and instead continued on her descent.

“Welcome to the maze, Emily,” the thing’s voice crackled. Flames licked from its voice and the biting smells of charcoal smoke and sulfur filled her nostrils, stuck to her tongue. Way too real to be imagined, yet even now, she struggled to explain how this experience or even this memory could be real.

Because right now, she sat on the backseat of Officer Stanton’s car. But the vivid recollection of this memory sliced through time and space, reaching her in the now. The demonic presence still lingered, lurking behind her, occupying the space in her mind.

The unwanted guest renting one of the rooms in the mindscape of Motel Emily. The neon sign of vacancy flickered unsteadily.

Where the stairs wound down further, she reached a door branching out to the side. Or rather, the word “door” didn’t really cut it. It was a stone portal, covered in more symbols or otherworldly runes.

Without thinking, she pushed it open, hoping to find escape from this place, praying to reach Rodney’s basement again, or appear back in Stanton’s patrol car. The past and the present started bleeding together. Had she really experienced all this, back then? Was this the madness, overtaking her mind, surfacing now, tainting the present and overwriting reality?

“This is as real as it gets, bitch,” the demon said, cackling yet more.

The pink-haired Emily celebrating her 21st birthday and tripping on LSD didn’t understand what she saw beyond the portal once she strained herself, putting her legs and back into pushing it open, her nerves fraying with each inch accompanied by the sounds of stone grinding against stone.

Beyond that portal, she saw another Emily, stripped half-naked, handcuffed to a curtain rack, with some man with a painted face sliding a knife into her exposed back. Bodies of the dead and the dying littered the dark and ruined room of some derelict house in that place and Helpless Emily screamed in agony.

Younger Emily gasped and backed away from this scene of carnage and despair, recalling a memory of something yet to come, which Present Emily knew already and remembered as the time the Grinning Man came close to killing her.

The man with the knife, with the face painted to display a horrid grin over a face of cold and sociopathic indifference, turned to look at Younger Emily. She pulled, tugged at the portal with all her might, desperate to close it before something worse happened.

The Grinning Man, that serial killer, turned from Tortured Emily. He tilted his head, staring into the stone portal in disbelief, studying its frame. Before Younger Emily succeeded in fully shutting the portal, he approached with swift steps, ready to pass from one place into another.

But she slammed it shut just in time, just before she could decipher shouts from beyond the portal.

Worse, the demon remained. Right behind her.

She dared not turn around completely to look upon its horrid visage, but glimpsed it from the corner of her eye. Red like a devil, covered in spikes and horns and smiling at her with a maw lined with rows and rows of jagged, shark-like teeth. Blackened, knife-shaped claws opening and closing in anticipation, ready to rip her to shreds if she looked at it for too long.

It cackled again and Emily continued down the stairs.

“That was you,” it said. “That’ll be you, in the future. You fuck-up. Nobody’s proud of you, Emily. Accomplishing nothing of value. Only watching people die in squalor and misery. You are nothing but a worthless witness. A voyeur in a voyeuristic world.”

Hearing the demon speak in such a modern vernacular and imagining to be such a clichéd presence clashed in her mind, and she almost turned to confront the creature. But she read its thoughts and they mirrored her own.

The first time she realized that turning only meant embracing the madness, and ending up in that padded little room, all alone, locked inside her head with drugs—and not the sort that Younger Emily found fun.

Picking up the pace, she continued down the winding, hellish stairs. The walls drew closer together with each step, never moving, but converging in angles that made her descent more claustrophobic with each passing moment.

Present Emily knew she had to break free of this memory, because it was bleeding into reality. The demon was taking hold. She dabbed more blood from her nose and barely perceived the world outside the patrol car, rolling by. This memory was real, made even more real through recent realizations, and recalling it now was rendering it even more visceral than ever before. The knowledge of Present Emily collided with the memories of Younger Emily and they coalesced. They coagulated.

She passed by another stone portal, almost screaming at what she felt from behind it. Younger Emily did not know what awaited there, but Present Emily did not want to see it, and the two of them refused to push it open and look inside.

“Yeah, you keep walkin’, you hypocritical asshole. Eager to discover the truth, but just another chickenshit,” the demon said.

Instead of the inevitable laughter she expected to ensue, the demon growled with anger, reflecting a rage welling in her bowels, only overshadowed by the terror and fear now gripping her heart and driving her down the stairs, faster and faster.

“He’s dead, Emily. Julian’s dead, and it’s all your fault,” the thing snarled.

Its hoofed feet thundered down the steps behind her, keeping pace with ease, the hulking presence chasing her down deeper into this pit of insanity.

“No,” she finally dared to reply, but the demon mimicked her word, mocking her. Then she repeated herself, “No, that’s not my fault. Not like with the others. Not everything is my fault.”

“Maybe not directly, but what if you never entered his life? What if he hadn’t been on that parking lot, that day? He might not have had some crazy stalker cave his skull in with a two-by-four. So maybe it’s still your fault,” the demon growled.

“Shut up,” she said. Then screamed it. “Shut the fuck up!”

“Yeah, shut the fuck up if you’re not going to do anything about it, right, Emily?”

The demon’s voice reached a fever pitch and now chased her. She ran, taking multiple steps down the well in strides, pushing through the narrow pathways, wasting no time to wonder how the demon’s sheer mass could fit through here behind her. The stink of fear erupted from her pores in a sheen of sweat, the heat of this hell engulfing her, and the stench of burning flesh rising from the depths.

The stone walls wriggled. They were not made of obsidian anymore, but worms. Millions and millions of pitch-black worms, things that did not belong in reality but were all too real. Slippery, alive. Writhing, as the mass reached out to her like walls of tiny fingers covered in myriads of chomping little mouths, provoking a shriek of terror to escape Emily’s throat, and the demon to laugh its sadistic laugh at her.

“Run, Emily! Run away, you disgusting fucking coward!” The demon spoke in many voices, those of Chris, her father when he slapped her cheek, the monster on her heels, and even herself. They all blended together. One of many, many in one.

There it was again: rocking back and forth, drool dripping from the corner of her mouth. White, padded walls all around.

Was she truly there? Was this even real? Was her entire life just a lie? Figments of her imagination, trying to make sense where none was to be made?

The stairs split into different pathways and Emily knew what to do. Present Emily wiped more blood from her nose and stared at her bloodied fingers in disbelief. Younger Emily had discovered her destiny, was glimpsing horrors from her future. Of the three possible ways to go, she squeezed into the narrowest one, screaming silently as she felt the wriggling mass of worms engulf her with the heat of a thousand fires, causing her skin to blister and painfully peel back. She clenched her teeth shut and feared the things entering through any orifices but pushed forward.

She had to live. She had to fulfill her destiny. She remembered all the people who died, or rather, those who would die.

She could change the world, but only if she didn’t give in now.

“Shit, I’ll give you a tissue once we reach the precinct,” Stanton said. His offer; his words helped, centering her in the now. The words he spoke bled through into that dark place where Younger Emily found herself, an unknown voice from a stranger from another world, or another time, piercing the veils of different realities, and guiding her through this horrid darkness.

The demon grunted and cackled and choked on the worms entering its maw as it squeezed itself through the narrow, suffocating passageway, following Emily without fail. It clawed its way forth, causing a cacophony of disgusting squelching noises, and sensations that reminded her of bones snapping to the point of sharp edges bursting through skin and protruding from human flesh, and teeth gnashing on exposed innards with blood spurting out, gushing, and the reek of feces in the air.

Her eyes long clamped shut, she dared not breathe but had to, and felt first worms trying to wriggle their way into her mouth. She sputtered and spat them out with an angry scream, controlling the rage that drove her, clawing her own way forth, mimicking the demon’s motions. Or it mimicked hers.

The stairs went upwards and she ascended, pulling her way through the narrowest spot of these walls of worms, fleeing up the stairs. The demon tumbled, but then continued giving chase on all fours, like the beast that it truly was. Like the beast in the back of her head, the madness always just a few steps behind her.

“You can’t get away from me,” Stinky Jim cackled, only to abruptly choke on his words, gagging and coughing up more worms. Through rows of bloodied, gritted teeth, he said, “I am always with you, Emily.”

She tripped, fell, scraped her hands on the jagged edges of the obsidian steps, right in front of one of the names inscribed upon the stairs: Xerxes. Younger Emily blinked, did not quite register what it meant until years later, first dismissing this memory and experience as a bad trip, induced by popping too much acid and being tired out of her mind.

Screams echoed through the infinite, infernal stairwell, bouncing off the walls and curdling her blood until she realized: the screams were her own. The demon’s growling matched them, blended in with them, and she screamed in pain as claws dug into her back, lifting her onto her feet and pushing her up a few steps until she ran on yet farther, stumbling forth and upwards, ever away from the madness that followed her wherever she went, ever away from the things below.

The things below the surface of her mind. The horrid things she pushed deep down to still her mind; the darkness she drowned in whiskey and cigarettes even as she grew older.

This could have been her awakening but she skidded right past it. It wouldn’t be for years until she had her world turned upside down. Never realizing the power she held. The demon followed closely, keeping her blood pumping and the adrenaline flowing like fire in her veins.

She reached a stone portal at the top of the stairs and pushed it open. Instead of meeting resistance and stone grinding upon stone once more, it swung open with ease. She burst right through it and stumbled again.

Catching her breath, wheezing, lungs screaming but only pained sounds emerging from her lips, she looked around. There was no demon behind her. Younger Emily, with her pink hair, and her piercings, and completely stoned, stood in Rodney’s basement. Behind her was only the door to the boiler room.

Rodney slept on the couch, curled up into a fetal position. Carlos slept on the chair, sprawled out, still blanketed by some empty plastic wrappers. Static on the TV screen.

Emily ripped the door to the boiler room open, needing to know if that had been real, but there was no hellish stairwell behind it. Just the regular old boiler room that it should have been, reeking of oil.

The demon’s laughter echoed in her mind. She checked the time, noting how many hours had passed and chalking this whole experience up to a bad acid trip after all. She didn’t go home, afraid to be followed or stalked out there in the dark and cold and wet autumn streets, all alone.

Even though she found blood when she wiped her nose, Younger Emily figured it fit. Demons and hell weren’t real. She didn’t have the power to control minds or enter strange otherworlds.

She curled up on the end of the couch, wrapping herself in a smelly old blanket that Rodney should have washed weeks ago. Although she thought the nightmarish imagery and things she had just witnessed would keep her up until the other two boys woke up, exhaustion dragged her into the realm of sleep within minutes.

Emily sat in the back of Stanton’s car, finally escaping from this memory. She looked out the window, at the people in the streets of New Haven. Instead of reading their minds, scanning their thoughts, and testing the limitations of her newfound powers, she decided against any of that.

“I’m still here,” the demon said—Stinky Jim. He sat right next to her, just out of sight.

The fear welled up again, churning in her guts as if the monster gripped her stomach with a claw and twisted.

“I’ll always be with you, Emily. Just one step behind. You ever want the security of that little padded room—to surrender all responsibility, let the world sort itself out and sink into darkness while you drool in the corner—you just turn back. Let me take the wheel,” Stinky Jim said. He cackled again, showing no hint of mercy.

“Or you keep going deeper down, scratchin’ at those wriggling walls, and dive into those lakes of blood and shit and fire. Find out what’s beneath the surface. Drown in the secrets of those things below, or spit ‘em out and curse the world with your wretched knowledge.”

More cackling.

Emily clamped her eyes shut. She willed Stinky Jim to shut up.

She centered herself. Pushed away every thought. Blocked it all out—she had gained that much control over it now. Focused.

Breathed.

Pushed the demon deep down, where it would lurk. And wait.

With the things below.

—Submitted by Wratts

4 notes · View notes

etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

She managed to acquire it for a very low and reasonable price. After all, who would use an old record now, especially with the booming technological culture that was steadily becoming popular with the younger generation?

She placed the delicate thing on her glass top table and took a good long look at it. Dante would pick her up any minute now, and she must definitely get ready for the mission ahead ( this time, a couple of magic - wielding higher Demons ).

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

With that in mind, and her strong belief in intuition ( not to mention Cassandra's constant meddling ), she picked up the vinyl record she bought along with the old instrument and proceeded to the task. And with a little help from an almost useless and age - old manual ( its pages were yellow and crumbling at the edges ) that came with the merchandise, she finally managed to play the song. She took a few steps away from the table and allowed the sweet, old music to soothe and calm her senses.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

And in that vision, she saw herself dancing the waltz with someone - a tall man clad completely in black. They were dancing to the same music that she was listening to, in the middle of the summer night, on a beautiful, Grecian balcony, below the starry, evening sky, the full moon shining above them.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

"Here." Nico mumbled sleepily as she handed V a mug of warm chocolate. He thanked the woman as he took it from her hands. He was about to take a sip when he noticed the woman giving him a suspicious look. She pointed two fingers at him and said, "Eh, so you're really Vergil, huh? Dante's twin brother?”

The man smirked as he finally took a sip of the warm chocolate, its enticing scent calming his tired and restless senses. He pursed his lips as he glanced at the calm and serene evening atmosphere from the balcony of (Y/N)'s unit.

"I was." He answered, his eyes darting from one cheerfully lit house to another. Some of the residents have already made their way back to their homes after the Dreadnought incident, and things were slowly going back to its normal and boring pace.

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

The man chuckled as he helplessly shook his head. He held out a single hand as little orbs of light radiated from it. The almost translucent orbs, then, spread out from his hand to his arm, then from his torso to his other arm. The orbs reached his entire body as the curious little lights morphed him back to the V that Nico was used to seeing - black leather vest, tooth necklace, a pair of unflattering black sandals, and all.

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

At the mere sound of her name, V's heart skipped a beat and his breath clearly hitched. The girl was sleeping in her room, unconscious since the whole battle with Pandemonium ended. He promised her sister that he would take care of him, and Galatea left her body as soon as she was done healing her.

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

His question came out like a soft breeze that was almost missed by the Artisan. She stopped sipping her chocolate and glanced back at V, seeing the man leaning on the railing and clearly looking uncomfortable.

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

At those ridiculously accurate words, V bowed his head down low, trying to conceal his face until he could no longer endure the emotions. With trembling shoulders and teary eyes, he threw his head back, his low and evil - sounding laughter ripping out of his throat and scaring the hell out of Nico.

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes."

V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

With wide, doubtful eyes, Nico patiently listened as V recounted to her the events that took place in the Dreadnought, from the moment he stabbed (Y/N) up to the point where Fleminger stabbed him, taking the Sisters away from him and letting Pandemonium kill everyone.

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

... a spectral - looking hand reaching up at the railing of the balcony just behind her. V was definitely not one to get frightened of ghosts but, the vision did startle him. He focused his gaze into it as the creature climbed up the balcony as effortlessly as it could.

It was (Y/N), and she was, somehow, strangely barefoot. Her pants looked like they were burnt from the knee down, and her movements were as light as possible. She tiptoed her way to the window when she suddenly heard some voices inside.

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

While listening to the conversation inside, he saw (Y/N) as she tiptoed her way back closer to the window, lovingly gazing at something inside. Her eyes widened, then returned to normal once more. She raised an arm and wiped the tears that started coming out of her eyes with the sleeves of her pale pink hoodie.

She was crying, and yet she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

He closed his eyes at the sudden change, and when he opened them once more, he was suddenly transported to a sunny, suburban place. A little girl with dark pigtails was staring at him, her hands on her hips like a wife who was angry at her husband for coming home late and drunk.

He realized she was not directly looking at him, and this made him turn around. And to his surprise, he saw (Y/N). And just like in his vision a while ago, she was barefoot, and her pants looked burnt from the knee down.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

The little girl laughed and shook her head, making (Y/N) a bit surprised and culture - shocked. "Ella no habla Español. No te preocupes, yo me encargo." The girl turned to (Y/N) and pointed at herself, then her mother. "My name is Alicia. This is my mother, Maria. I go to English class every Saturday."

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

The woman, whose dark brown hair has clearly turned gray, looked up from her stitch work and stood, meeting the girls halfway and kissing the both of them on their forehead. V noticed that she now walked with a slight limp.

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

To this, Maria's face suddenly fell, a frown now gracing her warm and gentle features. She only shook her head and went back to her stitch work. And without saying another word, she sat down and went on with her work like nothing even happened.

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"GO AWAY!" The girl screamed as she shut the door close. She then ran towards the sofa, grabbed Maria's old stitch work, and cried. The handiwork was clearly half - finished but, some words were visible from it.

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Oh, that! So, you've seen her?" Nico answered as she went back inside, V following close behind her. "You know, she's been to many places, more than what you could imagine. She's searching ten years for you, God!"

"Ten,… years?!"

"Yeah. She comes home often, though. She's learned to channel that power of hers to her feet and legs so she could move fast and jump to high places." Nico explained as she went to one of the drawers and pulled something out from it. "So, she's never really gone for too long. But, I'm gonna tell ya this: that channeling the power to her feet thing often burned her pants."

So, that's why,...

"I don't understand." V went on as he watched Nico flip through the pages of an old album. "She was searching for ten years, but I've only been to such places for three weeks. I was,… travelling. It's what I've been doing before coming here to Red Grave."

"Really? Well, it's a long story. Let's just say that she wanted to meet you because the entity that was possessing her wanted her to fulfill some kind of a mission. Don't ask." She handed the open album to V and pointed at one of the photos. "That's them."

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"Yeah, yeah! I thought at first she's just plain nuts. But, listen to this: the first thing she did after recovering was search for her family's old farm in Fortuna. V, there hasn't been a farm there since a hundred years ago! It's all concrete now, and streets.

"So, she searched for her parents and any people she could remember from her past. Some of them either died already or have grandchildren of their own. And her parents? She found out that they separated and had families of their own."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Exactly! She's, like, super old when you think 'bout it!" Nico went to one of the paintings and looked up at it. "And, not only that, her looks stayed the same for those ten whole years I knew her. Like, she's stuck or somethin’.”

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

Nico frowned and raised an eyebrow at him. She went on. "She craves for things from the past. So, she started collecting antiques like this. Other than helping her cope after being plucked from when she came from, these things she have reminded her of all the places she's been. They remind her of you."

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

Nico saw the confusion in V's eyes as he looked at the antique. "Oh, this? She bought this about a year ago. Thought she's gonna want to listen to old songs when she wakes up. So, I took it out. It's gonna get moldy with disuse."

The woman walked towards the door but, before she went out, she turned back to V. "I'll leave her to ya, V. Don't mess this up again." And then, just like that, she walked out of the door, leaving him alone with (Y/N).

The silence felt deafening, the darkness depressing. V nearly collapsed on the sofa as he carefully placed the album next to the record. He was about to touch it when he heard a loud tapping against the window. He turned around just in time to see Griffon and Shadow entering the unit.

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

V smirked, controlling his mirth and amusement as he looked down at the now human Shadow. After the cleansing, she has turned into a pale human girl roughly the size of a middle - schooler. Her long black hair that reached her feet was awfully unkempt, and the clothes that Lady lent her a while ago was too big for her.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"This girl took it badly when you threw them out during your mad state, if ya can’t remember. She looked for them all over the place and kept them with her." Griffon explained as Shadow gave the shoes back to V. She turned towards her fellow familiar and gave him a strange look. She, then, turned back to V with an angry, yet adorable, look. "Oh, and she's saying that she hates ya for hurting (Y/N). And that she will never forgive ya."

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"Well, you've been a naughty schtick! Ya should've been punished for bad behavior!" The bald Demon made a ruffling gesture that was much akin to his movements when he was still a bird and collapsed on the sofa. "So, happy with yer new powers?" he, then, asked sarcastically.

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

There was a moment of silence between the two, and during this very awkward time, Shadow took a liking to the old record on the table. She poked the thing with her tiny finger and managed to turn it on, its weird mechanism startling her and making her hair stand. She drew back to a corner, giving it a confused and cautious look.

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"It,... wouldn't hurt if we try." The poet quietly said as he placed the shoes on the table and took the vinyl record just beside the instrument. Apparently, the record was simply titled as "Nat King Cole". He began with the long process of playing it and when the music finally came out of it, he turned it off immediately.

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, though near or far. Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

"It's this song." He confessed with a shaky voice. With cold and trembling hands, he covered his mouth, already feeling the tears as they started falling down his blurry eyes. "It's,... from that evening."

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way, and forevermore, that's how you'll stay,..."

He stood up and went towards the window, all the painful memories of everything that happened within a single week coming back to him. He found the love of his life, danced with her, and lost her because of his foolishness.

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

But, this time, unlike any other vision he had of her, she looked like she was actually seeing him for real. She went closer towards him as he observed all of her movements. He held out his arms, hoping for his desire to dance with her once more to come across.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

"And forevermore,… that's how you'll stay,..." He felt a warm sensation on his body and realized that her vision was rubbing him on the back, her arms around him, wanting him to cease crying. He looked at her eyes and cupped her cheeks. "That's why darling,… it's incredible,… that someone,… so unforgettable,… thinks that I ‘am,… unforgettable too,..." His heart ached with each word he sang, feeling like they were directed towards him and making him feel guilty than ever before.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

She reluctantly pulled away from him as she looked at the door behind her. She opened her mouth and said something he couldn't hear, and turned to face him once more. She gave him a warm, and yet weak, smile as she held up a single hand to caress his face. After that, she stepped away from him and went to the door, looking at him one last time before finally going through it.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. Also for introducing Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @lessy86 , @diabeticsugarush , @ehrzeth , @ceruleanworld , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

***

She heard a knock on the door and heard Dante calling her name. She turned away from the lonely man, not really wanting to go.

"I'm coming!" She called back, then looked at her partner's anguished face once more. Despite the pain that she suddenly felt in her heart upon seeing a vision of him, she still made an effort to caress his face and smiled, reassuring him, hoping that he would understand. She left him standing there in the middle of the room.

And as she glanced back at him, the sight that greeted her hurt her even more. In fact, the pain was unbearable.

His tears were streaming down his face, his expression simply too painful to withstand.

He doesn't want her to go.

He,... doesn't want her to leave,...

***

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 28 #he who regrets

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

Note

Prompt, Based on the one where Katniss calls Effie 'Mom': The group visits Annie & Jo in 4. Katniss' mom finds out they're there & overhears Katniss' kids calling Effie 'Grandma', & cue regret that she'd never met them, maybe someone even had to tell her who the kids were, & perhaps envy that Effie's closer to them all than she'll ever be now?

Here it is, some toastbabies with a side of old very domestic hayffie {X]

Grandma

The playgrounds in Four were a lot bigger thanthe single one in Twelve and Effie was running herself frayed trying to keep aneye on the children. Next time, she vowed, she would force Finn to come withthem. He was a nice young twenty-three year old man and he would never refuseher. He was even sweeter on her than his father had been. It was shocking torealize Finn was older than Finnick had been when he had died and when she hadseen him waiting for them on the station’s platform with Annie and Johanna, shehad been forced to swallow back a gasp.

“Relax, sweetheart.” Haymitch snorted.“Willow’s right there.”

Willow was climbing the monkey bars, urging hernewfound friends on – she was just as reckless as her mother and just as promptto make friends as her father. Effie blamed most of her grey hair on the eightyears old.

“And Rye?” she worried.

“Still in the sandbox where we left him.” hepromised, relaxing further against the bench they were sitting on.

He looked tired, she noticed, briefly takingher attention away from the children to study him. One of his arms wasstretched behind her along the length of the wood, his other hand was on hisknee and his fingers were restlessly drumming an uneven rhythm. He alwayslooked restless since the surgery. Or perhaps it was having been forced to giveup liquor for good.

On bad days, days when he felt weak and sick,he blamed her for what he was going through. He would have simply given up anddied if she had let him, let cirrhosis win and take him away from her… She hadfought and fought until he had surrendered and accepted to go to the Capitol toget a second opinion and then she had fought and fought until he gave in andagreed to have the operation. They could do all sort of things in the city, cure all sort of things that would haveotherwise been considered terminal. It simply had a price because those privateclinics didn’t operate pro-bono.

All their savings and a part of Peeta’s hadgone into getting him into that program and Plutarch still had been forced topull strings.

But it had been worth it. Oh, so worth it.

Now he had a brand new liver grown especiallyfor him from his own DNA – and perhaps it was similar to mutts and perhaps hehad had reasons to be wary but she didn’t care because he was alive. They wouldn’t have had much morethan a few more months together without that surgery and instead they had had twoyears and hopefully many more to come. Having to take meds every morning andnight and staying off the liquor were a small price to pay in her opinion.

“We are far too old for this.” she sighed. At fifty-eight, she didn’t have the energyshe used to and the children were a handful on the best day. At sixty-four,Haymitch was even less partial to entire days spent watching children all tooprone to accidents. Babysitting was fine but she wasn’t sure how they wouldsurvive an entire week as their sole caretakers. “Next time, they can send themto Annie and Johanna.”

Truth be told, that week was supposed to be asecond honeymoon for Peeta and Katniss who had packed up for Seven while theytook the children to Four for the traditional summer trip. The children wouldjoin them later, at which point, Haymitch and Effie would switch hotels for asmaller cozier one where they would be able to have some honeymoon time of their own.

Haymitch tossed her an incredulous glance. “Youwanna send your preciousgrandchildren away for a whole week with only Annie and Johanna to supervise?”

“They didn’t do such a bad job raising Finn.”she countered.

His lips twitched into a smirk. “Have you metWillow?”

“Point taken.” she chuckled. Willow and Johannawould be a bad mix. Willow was always up to all sorts of shenanigans and Jo wasalways too willing to humor her. “Oh, no! Rye is crying…”

The three years old must have gotten some sandinto his eyes. Effie was already halfway up but Haymitch waved her down,hauling himself off the bench to hurry to the boy. Despite his grumpy attitude,she watched as Haymitch’s irritation melted around the baby of the family. Ifanyone had ever told her she would see Haymitch Abernathy, Quarter Quellvictor, willingly sit down in a sandbox to play with a little boy, she wouldhave laughed hard enough to break a rib.

Rye being safe with Haymitch, she turned herattention back to Willow who had now urged her little group of friends to theslide. They were apparently playing at having an adventure and Effie smiledwith fondness at the girl’s antics. She was having the time of her life, itseemed. Hopefully, if she exhausted herself enough she wouldn’t beg to go tothe beach later on. Effie refused to let the children in the water if there wasno adult to supervise – which often meant herif Annie or Finn were otherwise engaged. She could never say no, of course, it was the point of theholidays after all but… She wouldn’t have minded a quiet afternoon, truth betold. A fashion magazine, a cocktail…

Perhaps they could take the children furtherdown the pier where there were carousels and ice cream to distract them fromthe ocean when they would be done playing. They would enjoy it and they couldall go to the beach in the morning instead of…

“Miss Trinket?”

Effie looked up at the woman who had called hername, adjusting her pink sunglasses on her nose to see better – she was up toall tricks to keep people from knowing her sight wasn’t as good as it once was,she wore contacts and had her sunglasses corrected. It took her a few minutesto place her because it had been years since she had given her any thought atall.

“Mrs Everdeen…” she said slowly, without anywarmth.

Her feelings about the woman had always beensomehow mixed because she didn’t believe an eleven years old should have beenforced to care for her family when there was a capable adult present. But thathad been another world and she could have understood if the woman hadn’t packedup and left right before the end of Katniss’ trial, leaving Haymitch forced tostep up to take custody of the girl and thus compelled to leave her behind in the Capitol to look afterPeeta when she had barely been able to take care of herself and when theirrelationship had been at a very fragile breaking point. It had added a lot ofdifficulties that the obvious pain Katniss had felt at her mother’s desertionhadn’t helped curb. Never mind the lack of surprise on the girl’s part.

The healer looked hesitant but she flashed hera small smile. “I thought it was you. You haven’t changed at all.”

Effie patted her dyed strawberry blond hairself-consciously, she kept the reddish hue because Haymitch was fond of it andbecause it was close to its original colors. There were lines at the corner ofher eyes but she supposed the sunglasses hid those. The blue summer dresshugged a figure that, fortunately, was still appealing enough in her ownopinion, the scars having faded enough in the last two decades not to be sonoticeable. The hands, though, were the dead giveaway. They were old woman’shands now. Wrinkled and sometimes swollen at the joints, preventing her fromsewing or knitting.

Wait until you hitsixty, Haymitchalways mocked because it was went his body had finally cried uncle for him. Notonly the liver but his knees and his back.

“You neither.” she offered politely.

It wasn’t a far cry from the truth. AsterEverdeen looked the same, albeit a little older. Her blond hair was mostlywhite now, it fell in a long braid over her shoulder. Delicate hands wereclutching the strap of a medical bag passed over a shoulder over a medicaluniform of some sort.

“Are you still living in Twelve?” the womanasked with a touch of… eagerness. “Katniss mentioned you had moved there a fewyears ago.”

Effie pursed her lips. As far as she knew,Katniss had had almost no contact with her mother aside from the occasionalphone calls in the years after the war – and those phone calls had becomeshorter and shorter until they had simply stopped. Aster hadn’t come to thewedding and the girl had never forgiven her for it.

She glanced at the boy who was now busy withhis favorite game of let’s climb Grandpa andwondered if the woman even knew about them. How long since the last timeKatniss had talked to her mother? She remembered it had been a big deal duringKatniss’ first pregnancy, how the girl had uncharacteristically sought her company at odd times because shefelt insecure and needed the input of another woman, one she was close to andto whom she could confide things that would have had Peeta and Haymitchrunning.

“I have been living in Twelve for more thantwenty years, yes.” she confirmed. “With Haymitch.”

“Oh, of course.” Aster smiled awkwardly. It was public knowledge after all. It hadmade quite the scandal and they had appeared together at various officialevents since then – the anniversaries of the rebellion weren’t things they wereallowed to miss, particularly when they hit a new milestone. The healer clearedher throat. “And how’s…”

“Grandma!” Willow shouted, choosing that momentto come running to the bench. “Grandma! Can I get Tali’s number so I can callher tomorrow for a play date, please? Her mother says I can have it and we cangive her Auntie Annie’s if you say it’s okay.”

Effie glanced from the flushed girl to thewoman who was standing next to another bench with a little girl, clearly aboutto leave. She rummaged in her bag for a piece of paper and quickly scribbledAnnie’s number on it. Willow snatched it from her hand and was gone before shecould even blink.

She shook her head with an amusement thatquickly faded when she looked back at Aster. The healer was staring at thechild.

“I didn’t know you had children.” Mrs Everdeencommented.

“I don’t.” she denied. “Not biologic onesanyway. Willow is…”

She never had time to confirm what the womanprobably already suspected because the girl was back, her prize clutched in herlittle fist. “Can you keep it safe for me, Grandma? I really like Tali. I don’twant to lose it.”

“Of course, darling.” she promised, placing thepiece of paper with her little friend’s number in her purse for safekeeping.“Wait.” she ordered before the child could scamper away. “Here, drinksomething. It’s too hot to be running around without proper hydration.”

Willow took the plastic bottle full ofstrawberry flavored water without protest and dutifully sipped from it, knowingthat the sooner she complied the quicker she would be allowed to go back toplaying. Her grey eyes fell on Aster and her eyebrows shot up, she pointed outat the woman’s hair. “My mommy does the same kind of braids.”

“Does she, now?” Aster breathed out, her eyesshiny. She dropped on the bench next to Effie who had half a mind to protestbut didn’t quite know how to handle the whole thing. What would Katniss wanther to do? It wasn’t her place todecide how to introduce the woman.

“Yep.” the girl nodded enthusiastically.“You’re a friend of Grandma?”

Mrs Everdeen flinched and Effie realized itmust have been a slap in the face to realize she was grandma. Their biologicalgrandmother was a stranger to them.

“I…” Aster hesitated.

“Hey, squirrel, why don’t you go back to playingwith your friends, yeah?” Haymitch suddenly cut in, his voice a touch wary.“They look like they’re waiting for you.”

Willow didn’t need to be told twice. She tossedthe bottle at Haymitch who caught it easily despite the boy clinging to hisneck and snickering hard at the game. It wasn’t long before Haymitch hadsecured the three years old against his chest and had handed him the bottle hissister had left behind. Rye took a few sips with obvious relief. He was lessflushed than Willow but it was clear he wouldn’t have minded some peace andquiet. The way he was rubbing his eyes, Effie figured it wouldn’t be longbefore he took a short nap. Without him needing to ask, she handed him the frayedstuffed horse that usually resided in her bag when it wasn’t in his arms. Hewedged it between Haymitch and his body, cuddling it close.

“Hello, Haymitch.” Aster said, a bit waryherself. “Hello, young man.” Rye peered at her under his long eyelashes andthen buried his face in Haymitch’s neck, placing his horse over his head forgood measure. The woman smiled sadly. “I trust this one isn’t yours either?”

Effie shook her head. “Why don’t you say helloto the nice lady, Rye?” The boy clung to Haymitch a little tighter and refusedto look at the stranger. She shrugged apologetically. “He is a bit shy but heis such a sweet child…”

“He’s tired.” Haymitch said, his grey eyesnever wandering away from Aster. Effie knew that look. It was the way hewatched out for threats. “I was coming to tell you we should bring the kidshome.”

“Wait.”Aster pleaded, sounding scared. She searched Haymitch’s gaze, found no sympathythere and turned to Effie. “How old are they?”

She hesitated but really… “Willow is eight and Rye is three.”

“Rye…”the woman repeated. “Wasn’t one of Peeta’s brother…”

“Yes. His favorite one.” Effie nodded.

“Oh…” Aster breathed out, desperately staringat Willow who was once more leading her friends in an adventure. “But Katnissdidn’t name the girl after…”

“It was too difficult for her.” she interruptedswiftly. Rye was now watching them without looking like it and he was a brightlittle thing. He would tell his sister who was naturally curious and would putthe puzzle back together. Questions would be asked if certain names wereraised. “We all wanted a clean slate.”

Naming the children after dead friends andfamily members… Nobody had opposed Peeta’s choice to give his son his favoritebrother’s name because none of them had been close to the dead young man. Primnow… It would have been too painful. Rue had been pushed aside for the samereason. In the end, Katniss had decided her children wouldn’t carry that sortof weight.

“And they call you Grandma.” Aster stated,almost accusative.

Effie opened her mouth, feeling all defensive,but Haymitch got there first and there was a growl in his voice that hadintimidated more than one powerful person. “Cause she’s there.”

“Do they know you aren’t their realgrandmother?” the healer asked.

And it hurt.

It hurt alot.

She looked down at her knees, brushing imaginarycreases off her blue dress. Haymitch automatically cradled the back of Rye’shead as if to shield him from those words. Unfortunately, the boy’s blue eyeswere staring straight at Effie who gave him a small reassuring smile. It wasenough for the child to smile back before he started sucking on his thumb. Itwas a habit they were trying to break him out of but she didn’t chide him forit.

“Now, you listen and you listen hard.” Haymitch hissed. “Effie’s just asreal as…”

“Enough.” Effie declared, standing up.

“Sweetheart.” he warned with a glare, clearly dying to say his piece. He hadclaimed to understand Aster’s decision to not go back to Twelve after the warbut her behavior since then, her failure to come back into Katniss’ life hadleft him angry and bitter. He hated to see his victor hurt.

“Darling.” she replied in the same warningtone. She found another piece of paper in her bag and scribbled Annie’s numberfor the second time before handing it to Aster. “Katniss and Peeta will join usnext week. Call your daughter if you wish to see your grandchildren.”

“Don’t call if you’re just gonna take offagain.” Haymitch snapped. “They’re kids,not toys. You can’t just waltz in their lives and disappear right after.”

“I didn’t disappear, I left her with you.”Aster protested faintly, rubbing her face. “I could never have… I knew you werethe best choice, Haymitch. I knew you would look after her better than I evercould have. She had always been closer to her father, you know, and you… Youfilled that gap in her life.”

“Yeah, well…” he grumbled. “Effie filled theone you left so…” He shook his head.“I mean it, Aster. If you call, you better be ready to own it.”

“Willow!” Effie signaled to the girl they wereready to leave and the child came running, wrapping her arms around her middlewith pleading eyes. “No, darling, we really need to go home. Your brother wantshis nap.” she said firmly before Willow could beg for five more minutes thatwould turn into a half hour. “However Iwas thinking that after a nap and a snack we might just go to the pier.”

Where there would be carousels and all sorts ofgames and where, she was sure, they would end up with one of those giganticstuffed toys Haymitch grumbled so much about because they had ended up with ahuge stuffed panda and a zoo of smaller animals in their guest room given thatWillow was running out of space to stock them at home.

The girl’s eyes brightened and she squeezed herwaist harder. “You’re the best Grandma in the whole world!”

Aster flinched and Effie almost felt sorry forher. Almost.

It had been her choice to give up on herdaughter after all.

“How about me, squirrel?” Haymitch scowled,faking a pout. “Don’t even get a hug? I smell or what?”

Willow laughed, carefree and happy, andswitched targets to barrel into Haymitch. He winced a little when her head hitthe always tender spot on his stomach but it was soon smoothed away by anexpression of utter fondness.

“I am afraid we have to go.” Effie told Aster,polite but a touch cold. “Do consider giving your daughter a call.”

They didn’t give her a lot of time to ponderthat. Haymitch herded the children away, Willow clinging to his hand. Theyhadn’t gone really far from the playground when the girl grabbed Effie’s freehand so she could walk between them and peered up at her curiously. “Who wasthe lady?”

“An old acquaintance.” she dismissed.

The word seemed to puzzle Willow who made aface and turned to Haymitch for clarification.

“Just someone we used to know, sweetheart.” heshrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

Willow pondered that and then probably decidedit wasn’t worth her interest because she started hopping happily between them.“Can Finn take us to the aquarium again sometimes? I like watching the fish.”

“We will ask him tonight.” Effie promised. “Butif he can’t we won’t insist, alright?”

Finn had been working at the aquarium since thebeginning of the year and she didn’t want him to get in trouble for them. Heloved his job, he loved taking care of animals, and she wasn’t sure giving themthe behind the scenes tour had beencleared with his superiors.

“Okay.” the girl agreed readily. She escapedtheir hands to run a little ahead.

“Stay in sight!” Effie demanded, shaking herhead at how impetuous that child was. A glance at Rye confirmed the boy was nowsound asleep in Haymitch’s arms. “What did you think?”

“Not sure.” he admitted. “Just hope she’sserious about it if she decides to call Katniss. The girl’s been let downenough.” His lips twitched with anger. “She had some nerves too, saying you’renot their real grandmother. What’s thatsupposed to mean? Who was there when Katniss went into labor? Who changeddiapers? Who stayed up all night with the kids when Willow had that fever?Who’s always there to watch the babies when the kids need some air?” Hescoffed. “Got some nerves, I’m telling you.”

She smiled at how protective he was of her butwaved a dismissive hand in the air. “She was just jealous, I think. What I getto be to those children… She will never have it.”

He seemed a little surprised. “Didn’t botheryou?”

“The comment did a little.” she admitted.“But…” She shrugged. “A few years ago, I would have been afraid of her stealingthem all away from me. Now… Now I know nothing can drive us apart.”

They had all been close since the war, theyformed a solid family unit that the children’s babies had only strengthened.But after Haymitch’s health troubles… Katniss and Peeta had rallied around themin a way that had brought her close to tears a few times. Katniss had beggedhim to take the surgery, she had raged until she had burst out in full sobs andshe hadn’t stopped until he had held her close like he almost never did becauseneither of them were touchy-feely –as they claimed. Peeta was the one who had sat Haymitch down and had forced himto consider everything he would be leaving behind if he chose to just give upand accept his fate – not only Effie but Katniss and him and grand-children whoworshiped the ground he walked on. The children had been there every step ofthe way. They hadn’t come to the Capitol with them but they had called threetimes a day to check on him, to talk to him, to make sure everything was goingas best as possible – to the point he had one day exclaimed that he didn’t needto be that coddled, all the whileflushing red in embarrassment and, Effie was sure, pleasure at knowing he wasloved that much.

So, no,she wasn’t scared of Aster Everdeen coming and stealing the matriarch placeback because that place belonged to Effie and to Effie alone. Katniss herselfhad confessed she felt closer to her than to her own mother. There was noquestion about how Peeta felt about her. And the babies… Well… Willow and Ryeloved her, she knew it deep down and she was secured in that knowledge.

“Look at you being all wise.” he teased.

“It suits me well, I think.” she teased rightback.

It didn’t have to be all hers or all Aster’s.She could share a little of them.

But it was Aster Everdeen’s decision to takethat first step.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #post mj #hurt comfort #book!verse #protective effie #protective haymitch #established #pep talk #aster #toastbabies

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etlunainmorte · 5 years

Text

🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤

***

However, for some strange reason, she couldn't shake the urge that she must play at least one song with it.

She closed her eyes, letting the melody sink in,...

... when a vision suddenly flashed through her mind.

She opened her eyes once more, unable to believe her wicked sense of premonition ( or Cassandra's ) and allowed the vision to take over her entire mind.

It was,... simply perfect,...

But, who was that man?

The vision ended as soon as she opened her eyes.

However, something near the window startled her. She took a good long look at it as it slowly materialized, and right then and there, she saw him - the man she was dancing with in that vision,...

It's him! The man she's been searching for for such a long time.

The man,... with the white hair,...

And he was there, standing a few feet away from her, giving her a confused, and yet longing, look, as if he was also seeing her, himself.

She cautiously went closer to him and observed how his eyes followed her movements. She knew perfectly well that he was just a vision. Of the past or future? That she was not certain.

All she knew was that he was holding out his hands in front of her in a clear gesture that successfully conveyed his desire to dance with her,...

***

XXVIII

***

Nico almost choked on her chocolate when she heard V's answer. She chuckled as she took a good long, and thorough look at Vergil’s form from head to foot. "You,... were?" She chuckled.

V smirked once more as he looked at her. "It's the truth."

"I don't understand. How can you not be Vergil right now? I mean, come on, Sir Changes – A - Lot!"

"This,... is merely an illusion.” V explained. “I could never become whole again. It is,... completely impossible. Even with the powers of the Sisters Of Fate."

"Your hair,..." Nico mused as she pointed at V's snowy white hair. "It's not turning back to black." She, then, pointed at his skin. "And your tattoos are barely even there!"

"This is how I look like before all this,... began. This,... is the real me."

"Wow. And I thought (Y/N) was the only one who can change looks,..."

But, then, somehow, he knew deep within his tainted heart that she would never be fully healed.

Would she,... ?

"Sorry?"

V looked at her eyes and repeated his question. "Would she find it in her heart to forgive me? After everything I've done to her?"

"Oh, that." Nico came closer towards the man and patted him a bit forcefully on the shoulder. "Dontcha worry a thing 'bout that! She'll forgive ya and yer pretty, lil' skinny ass. Believe me.”

V chuckled at her crude humor and sighed.

"You don't have,... any idea what I did to her back in that demonic ship,..."

"I know. You killed her. Well, almost."

V's eyes widened as he straightened up and looked at her. "How did you - ?!"

"Found out? Oh, she knew 'bout that. She told me herself."

Oh, it must be Cassandra, V thought as he leaned against the railing once more. "Of course."

"But, hey, she's still alive, right? And you're fine! At least, you didn't turn evil or somethin' and caused the world's destruction."

"Hahaha! YOU make me laugh,..."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "O,... kay?"

"You have no idea,... how messed up I've become. I failed her. I failed miserably. I'm only here because, apparently, Galatea still thinks I'm worthy. After,... everything I did to her."

"Hey, we all make mistakes." V smiled at her. "I will tell you,... the story of my insanity,..."

"Wait, wait, wait,..." Nico blabbered as she pushed the frame of her red - rimmed glasses to her nose bridge. "So, you're sayin' that,... everyone,... died?"

"Yes."

"Hooee! Well, I'm sure glad that Galatea brought you back. I wonder how I died back there?"

As Nico went on blabbering about how she could possibly die in that far off alternate universe, V suddenly saw,...

So, did V.

“ ... they even mentioned some famous and obscure names in the Devil Hunting business who got the invitation. And let me mention this - Dante also received one."

Her eyes widened at whatever she saw inside and she couldn't prevent herself from letting out a yelping sound.

“Someone’s listening!”

She covered her mouth and stepped away from the window.

“Looks like we have an,… unwanted visitor.” Then, he heard it. That voice. It was him. He could remember everything: this was from that time when he first arrived at this place.

So, it was true: someone really was outside that time. And it was none other than her,...

“Best to make it at home - ” He heard himself speak once more.

“Guys, guys! Stop! What did I say about making a mess?!”

“Hey, hey! There’s an intruder right - AHH!” A very loud and obnoxious noise was heard from the inside, like someone, or something, was just thrown to the other side of the room.

“To not make any?”

“Exactly! That’s just the - ah - neighbor’s cat!”

“That,… does not sound like a feline, at least to my ears.”

“Okay, okay, guys! Trust me and put your weapons down. Thank you! Now, as I was saying, we must go to this event and find out what this, Wrath of The Gods, is!”

“We cannot go shorthanded. If we take the riddle in a very literal sense, then,… we would not have enough strength. We would be dealing with the Wrath of The Gods,… after all.”

She was crying, and yet,...

... she looked clearly happy at what she saw. Like she finally found something she has been searching for after so long.

Like, she was deeply longing to see whatever that was,...

And this made V's heart twitch in unbelievable pain.

He,... knew who she was looking at. He knew,...

... who she was longing to meet,...

“That’s where I come in! Nero, how’s the breaker coming along?”

“It’s fine, sure.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, I’ll be making new ones.”

“Isn’t this enough?”

“No! And, you! You seem interested in all this, yes?”

“As a matter of fact, I ‘am."

“Then, go get your own formal wear! I can’t provide you with one. I’m an Artisan, not a freaking, fancy tailor!”

“Wait, like, right now?”

“Duh?! Are you, like, gonna wait till Saturday for that? Go, go, GO!”

She cautiously took a few steps away from the window once more.

“Hey, hey, if you’re looking for some chicks, then you’re in the wrong place! Get moving!”

There were more sounds, and when they finally subsided, the window violently opened and she finally entered the threshold of her own home.

“Are you crazy?! Why would you be hiding there? This is your home, for crying out loud! Are you a thief, or something?!”

“It’s him, Nico.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“It’s him! The man with the violin in my visions!”

“Who?!”

“The one with the markings on his skin!”

“The mysterious man? Are you sure about that?”

“It. Is. HIM!”

"¿Por qué estas descalza?" V heard a distinctively different voice of that of a little girl.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to answer but, then, she realized she can't speak the little girl's language. This made the smaller girl smile.

"¡Ven conmigo! Te llevaré a nuestra casa." The girl excitedly said as she practically went through V like he was a ghost and grabbed (Y/N)'s hand.

V followed the two as the little girl led (Y/N) to one of the charming little two - story houses on the left. The little girl opened the door and let (Y/N) in.

"¡Madre!" The girl called. "¡Madre!"

"¿Alicia?"

A woman in her mid - fifties came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands with an orange towel.

"¿Hija?" The mother's eyes widened as she abandoned her towel, practically throwing it to the side as she made her way to the two girls. "¡Que chica tan linda! ¿Es tu amiga?"

"Oh, that's nice." (Y/N) answered as she received a pair of slippers from the little girl. "Thanks."

"She said you're pretty."

A faint rosy tint crept up (Y/N)'s cheeks. She looked at the smiling older woman and nodded. "I, ah, thank you."

Maria nodded, understanding the words she just said.

"What are you doing outside with no shoes?" The little girl asked her as she pulled her towards the living room.

"Umm, you see, ah,..." (Y/N) muttered as she sat down on the maroon sofa. "I was, ahh, looking for someone. A white haired man who plays the violin. I've seen him pass here. Have you, umm, seen him?"

White haired man who plays the violin?

He had been here?!

Alicia turned to his mom. "Ella pregunta si hemos visto a un hombre de cabello blanco por aquí, dice que toca el violin."

Maria frowned and shook her head. “No, lo siento mucho. Pero podemos avisarte si lo llegamos a ver."

"She said no. But, we will tell you when we see him."

(Y/N)'s face showed a clearly disappointed expression. But, despite this, she still sincerely smiled and nodded. "Thank you so much."

Alicia nudged her on the elbow to help her relax. "No hay problema." She answered with a smile. "That means no problem."

"I can't believe how fast you've grown!"

V heard another voice from the hallway. He went there and saw, in shock, the same little girl,...

... except that she was now the same height as (Y/N). Her hair was no longer in pigtails. Instead, she was wearing it down. And her fashion sense seemed to have changed, as well.

"I'm a teenager now!" And clearly, she was better in English. "And it seems that you haven't aged a bit since I last saw you!"

It was true. For some reason, (Y/N) still looked the same.

How many years has passed since she first met Alicia?

"So, have you seen him?"

"Oh, that man? I think mom has!"

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Alicia grabbed her hand and led her to the living room like what she did the first time they met. "Madre, (Y/N) is here!"

"It has been a long, long time, Miss (Y/N)!" Maria told her in straight English, grabbing her hands and squeezing them.

"Mom studied English for you." Alicia said with a proud and huge smile.

"That's really cool!"

"Mom, she’s asking whether you've seen the man she was looking for."

"Oh, don't mind her. She's just like that at times. But, she's not mad at you, don't worry!" Alicia whispered.

(Y/N), who was clearly alarmed at the sudden change in Maria's demeanor, couldn't help but nod as she tried to hide her worry.

"It's okay."

"You haven't given up?"

V heard Alicia's frantic voice on the hallway once more. He immediately went there and saw her,...

... clad completely in black from head to foot. She clearly looked a bit older, and she was not dragging (Y/N) around like how she used to when she was younger.

And (Y/N)?

"You still haven't changed?" Alicia questioned her with raised eyebrows.

"Where's Maria?"

Something in her question triggered something in Alicia. And it unnerved both (Y/N) and V.

"Get out."

"Sorry?"

"I said, GET OUT!" Alicia screamed as she pushed (Y/N) out of the house.

"Alicia, what happened?!"

"El amor es paciente, el amor es amable. No envi - "

"HEY!"

V snapped back to reality as Nico snapped her fingers in front of his face.

"You alright?"

"Indeed. Yes, I' am." He answered.

Nico breathed a sigh of relief as she clutched at her chest like she was having a heart attack. "I thought I lost you back there. You know, (Y/N)'s visions were short and sweet - "

"She's been to Spain."

"Sorry?"

V looked at her and repeated his words. "It's (Y/N). I saw her. She was in Spain."

"Ten,… years?!"

So, that's why,...

V's eyes widened in awe as he saw the photograph of (Y/N) and Alicia during the Spanish girl's party for her sixteenth birthday.

"Alicia. One of the people she frequently visited and stopped seeing after ten years. Said she’s starting to notice."

"Notice what?" V looked up from the album.

Nico went closer to V and whispered like she was passing on a well - guarded secret to him. "Okay, this sounds weird but, she actually came from the past."

"I know."

"A girl,... out of her time,..." V mused as he flipped through the pages of (Y/N)'s old album, seeing her with unknown faces.

"Galatea's stasis." V breathed.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing"

The poet looked up from the album and saw Nico picking up her keys on the glass top table. There was an old record there, similar to Fleminger's, that he hasn't taken notice of before.

Was it there the whole time?

"HOO! We made it." Griffon breathed a sigh of relief as he made his way towards V while carrying something broken in his hands.

"I see you found it." V carefully took the broken violin from Griffon's long fingers. It was (Y/N)'s.

"Yeah, well. Kinda got all bloody searchin’ through Dreadnought's rubble for that."

"Thank you."

"Wait!" Griffon held up two long fingers in front of V and made way for Shadow to get close to the poet.

She quietly looked up at him with her big red eyes and showed him a pair of stilettos.

It was (Y/N)'s. She wore it when,...

"Oh, I'm,..." V grasped the shoes and looked down at them, thinking of the girl who owned them. "... forgive me."

"No." The poet answered monotonously as he slumped back to the sofa just beside the familiar, the shoes still in his hands.

Griffon rolled his eyes. "Figures,..."

This made Griffon laugh a lot. "I wonder how that would sound, though."

"Hey, why did ya turn it off?!" Griffon complained. He was about to rant more when he noticed the look on V's face. His eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open. "V? You okay?"

"I' am. I just,..." The man held out a hesitant finger as he turned on the instrument once more.

"Unforgettable, that's what you are.

Unforgettable, though near or far.

Like a song of love that clings to me,... "

Griffon saw the changes in V's demeanor and actually felt sorry for him. He tapped V's shoulder in a sincere effort to calm him down.

"Unforgettable in every way,

And forevermore,

That's how you'll stay,..."

All because he let himself be manipulated.

Still unable to control his emotions, and the tears that came along with them, he turned back, and saw,...

... the girl, herself, standing a few feet away from him looking confused like he was.

And, as if by some form of an unknown miracle, she let his hands take hers as they began the basic steps of the waltz,...

... just like the first time they did it on the Grecian balcony that evening.

"That's why darling, it's incredible,

That someone so unforgettable,

Thinks that I am unforgettable too."

Griffon and Shadow silently watched as V danced with something they couldn't see. The male familiar shook his head and grinned as he saw the poet actually enjoying the dance.

"No, never before has someone been more,..."

He tried to hold her closer despite the fear that she would vanish and rested his head on the crook of her neck.

"Unforgettable,… in every way,..."

He quietly and gently sang along, the lyrics tearing a new wound to his already beaten heart. How he wanted to hold her so much, how he wanted to actually feel her smooth skin against his,...

... how he longed to dance with her once more.

But, she’s hurt. Because of him.

And instead of her actually dancing with him, she’s lying on that bed inside her room with no guarantee of when she’d wake up.

He wanted so much to tell her that: that she’s unforgettable,…

… that he was grateful to her for everything that she did for him for the past ten years,…

… that he was grateful that she found him and made his life a little less miserable.

But, of course, he had to make a very stupid mistake of hurting her.

And he regret everything he did and did not do to her.

As the song came to an end, his face inched closer to hers. He wanted so much to feel her lips against his,...

... when something startled her.

"Please,..." V begged her, holding out a helpless and powerless hand to reach her. "Don't,... leave me,..."

***

🖤 Special thanks to @beyond-the-mirror for the Spanish dialogue and translations. And for also introducing us to Alicia and Maria. 🖤

🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @ceruleanworld , @lessy86 , @ehrzeth , @diabeticsugarush , @simmy-ships , @boundbysoul , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤

#devil may cry 5 #vitale sparda #i see my future before me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 28 #he who regrets

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