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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Through Thick and Thin - A.S

Anakin Skywalker x Fem Reader

masterlist, requesting rules, guidelines, taglist

About: When Obi-Wan learns of Anakin's turn to the dark side, he goes to Y/N to try and find him; what he gets instead changes everything and Anakin gets the answers he's been waiting for.

A/N: this is my first time writing in months, please be kind! Need to get back to my flow lol

Word Count: 2057

Warnings: murder, death, blood, mention of parent loss.

"He killed younglings, Y/N!" Obi-Wan stressed, pacing around the room "Tell me where he is, I beg you."

You stared at your husbands Jedi Master, contemplating if you should tell him the truth - betraying your husband and revealing his whereabouts or to lie and protect him. After all, you knew what Obi-Wan was going to do.

You knew that Anakin was capable of taking lives, especially the lives of women and children after he murdered the Tusken Raiders - you weren't afraid of him when he confessed and you certainly didn't shame him for it; you could understand his anger, his hate, his need for revenge.

Anakin's back was facing you, he stared at the wall, hot tears streaming down his face.

"I killed them." he paused, catching his breath "I killed them all. They're dead, every single one of them."

Anakin slowly turned around to face you, his face stained with tears, his eyes glassy and red.

You stared at him, trying not to judge him for what he had done - knowing that if you did, you would be the biggest hypocrite known to man.

"And not just the men," Anakin inched closer to you, shaking his head "but the women and the children too."

You froze.

Women, like you.

Children, like the ones you adored at the Jedi Temple, children you dreamed of having with Anakin.

Part of you died hearing his confession, but you remembered how you felt when you were finally left alone in a room with your fathers killer. You too would've killed his wife and the other women and children in their village. You would wipe them all out.

"They're like animals, and I slaughtered them like animals." Anakin started to raise his voice, his pearly white teeth shining in the light "I hate them!"

Anakin dumped himself to the floor, bringing his knees to his chest, more tears falling from his eyes; you placed your hand against his face, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

"It's okay to feel angry, it's okay to hate them after what they did." You said softly, casting circles on his cheek with your thumb.

"I'm a Jedi," his eyes searched yours, his hand reaching for yours, holding it tightly "I know I'm better than this."

You sighed, kissing his hand softly "Don't let what you've done define you, Ani."

"How can I come back from this?" He asked in frustration "How can I move forward if Obi-Wan is holding me back!"

"You find a way," you encouraged him "even if it means going against him... and the council."

"You're going to kill him, aren't you?" You asked quietly.

Obi-Wan didn't answer, he swallowed hard and looked at the pale lilac carpet.

"Why do I get the feeling you're going to be the death of me?"

"Don't say that Master... You're the closest thing I have to a father... I love you. I don't want to cause you pain."

"He has slain younglings, Y/N! I saw his callousness with my own eyes!" Obi-Wan raised his voice, "Anakin has sided with Palpatine! He's the sith lord!"

You started to laugh, waving your hand.

'Of course, Obi-Wan and the council are pinning this on Palpatine, making him the bad guy.' you thought.

"It's funny," you speak up swinging your right leg over your left knee "you and the council painting Palpatine as evil."

The Jedi Master stared at you in horror and couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth - his heart splitting into tiny fragments, the young girl he raised was defending the chosen one - the young boy who had grown up with bouts of pent up hate and anger, and turned to the dark side.

"Palpatine is the only person other than me who truly cares for Anakin, who never lectures him for his feelings, who never holds him back."

Obi-Wan felt sick.

"I don't know where he is," you lied "even if I did, I'm not telling you."

"Don't make this harder for me than it needs to be," Obi-Wan warned you, remembering the Jedi Code, pushing his memories with you and Anakin aside.

You didn't flinch, instead, you sat back down on the sofa, staring at the beautiful sparkling wedding ring on your finger.

"I don't want to go back," you sighed, dragging your feet through inches of deep, sparkling snow "I've missed being home."

Anakin nervously fidgeted with the ring box in his pocket, practising his words over and over and over, making sure he got them perfect, his body freezing, his hair full of snowflakes.

"I'm so thankful you came here with me, Ani." You smiled, "My dad would've loved you."

Realising that Anakin wasn't following you, you stopped in your tracks and turned around, finding your boyfriend down on one knee.

"Ani-"

"From the day we met, I have never been able to shake you from my mind and heart."

Your eyes filled with tears and your goggles started to steam up.

"I never got to ask for your father's blessing, but that won't stop me."

You focused on the ring, realising it was the same one that your father always showed you as a child, with his plan to give to you in hopes that you would pass it on to your children.

"Y/N, my love, will you marry me?"

You nodded your head, removing your glove, exposing your warm skin to the freezing air that instantly started to nip at your skin.

"Yes," you smiled, more tears falling from your eyes "I will marry you, Anakin."

"Your father would be ashamed of you, you're becoming the very thing he hated, you're sleeping with the enemy!"

The rage you once felt started to ignite deep inside you as Obi-Wan tried to sour one of the greatest moments of your life.

You stood up, and walked over to him, staring him down.

"You know better than to bring up my father, Obi-Wan."

Anakin tried to catch his breath, stumbling backwards in extreme pain, the sound of your screams ringing in his ears. You were hurt, probably dead with the amount of pain Anakin was experiencing.

His heart started pounding, his ears ringing, feeling sick to his stomach - you couldn't be... could you? who could've done this? why?

"I have these nightmares..." Anakin opened up to you "what I see, happens."

You stroked Anakin's head, your fingertips massaging his scalp, your lips brushing against his neck.

"I had them about my mother before she died, I wasn't strong enough to save her."

You stopped massaging his scalp, and pulled away, looking into his blue eyes - full of tears that pooled up over his waterline.

"You are strong and you get even stronger the more you learn and experience," you paused "I was strong - not strong enough to save my dad, but now I probably would've had a better chance of doing so. We move forward."

Your fiance nodded his head, pursing his lips and kissing you softly, still emotional when he pulled away from the kiss.

"I don't want to dream of you like that- I don't want the nightmares - I can't... I can't lose you..."

You shook your head, cupping Anakin's face in your hands "You won't lose me, Ani."

Anakin didn't know but he would soon find out, killing the last of the separatist leaders on Mustafar, he boarded his ETA-2 Jedi Starfighter and set off in a hurry; desperate to find you.

You were in utter shock.

Your hands trembling, your forehead burning, the room closing in on you yet expanding at the same time and your throat like sandpaper from your constant screaming.

It all happened so fast - Obi-Wan striking for you, your leg being severed off faster than you could realise until you fell down and all you could feel was agonising pain, and the smell of burning flesh filling the room, the blood boiling in your veins.

You sat on the floor, your back propped up against the back of the sofa, dragging yourself across the floor proved difficult since you stopped practising your upper body workouts.

Looking across the room, your eyes landed on Obi-Wan, no longer breathing - how you did it? you didn't know - you managed to take control, more power than you ever had in your life, your fury spitting inside of you begging for release.

Do you feel guilty? Now that you think about it, no.

Obi-Wan attempted to end your life and he would take Anakin's life too.

Bringing the back of your hand up to your forehead, you wiped away the beads of sweat, your chest rising and falling.

Anakin jumped out of his Starfighter, his hood shielding his face, his long strides bringing him closer and closer to you, his eyes no longer a beautiful shade of blue, but like the two suns on Tatooine during sunset.

She can't be. Y/N can't be dead. Not now. Not ever.

Getting closer and closer, Anakin could sense death, pain, and suffering.

The door swung open as Anakin stormed in, searching for you frantically until his eyes landed on your amputated leg in the middle of the room, his face drained of all its colour.

Your screams came back to him, the searing sound of Obi-Wan's lightsaber severing your leg, the loud thud as you fell to the floor and then the walls shaking, everything shaking, your yells, Obi-Wan's voice breaking before his body dropped lifelessly to the floor.

Anakin glanced over to his Jedi Masters lifeless body and stared, his eyes burning holes into Obi-Wans back, wanting nothing more than to revive him just so he could have the pleasure of murdering him for what he had done to you.

You peeked your head out from behind the sofa, "Ani," you winced, "I'm back here."

Anakin rushed to your side, his eyes pouring with tears as he searched your face and body for more injuries; the sight of your wound hurt him deeply.

How could Obi-Wan do this to you? How could anyone do such a thing to the chosen one's wife?

"Are you-are you-"

"Ani," you tried to calm him down breathlessly "just my leg, nothing-nothing else."

Anakin scooped you into his arms as gently as he could, you held onto him for support, moving one of your arms around his neck, your tear-stained face hiding in his chest, his heartbeat thumping against your ear comforting you.

"I thought you were dead," Anakin croaked, carrying you away, his robes hiding you in his arms.

"Obi-Wan came to me, he needed to know where you were so he could kill you," you admitted, "he told me that you killed younglings."

Anakin slowed down, you pulled your head out of his chest and looked into his eyes.

"Did you believe him?" Anakin asked, his tone harsh.

You paused for a moment, slightly afraid that Anakin might drop you.

"I know that you have killed children before," you replied quietly, "he told me that Palpatine is the sith lord... that you are his apprentice-"

"What do you think of Palpatine?" Anakin's eyes rummaged through yours.

She can't turn against me - she won't. I won't let her.

"I think that he's the only other person aside from me who has ever encouraged you to show your emotions, to use them to make you stronger."

Anakin's eyes fixed on your face like glue "what if he is the sith lord, and I have joined him? what would you think of me"

You sighed, closing your eyes, imagining the perfect life with your husband; you and him never in harms way, children of your own growing up without a clue of what it's like to lose a parent, to be a slave.

"I would encourage you to overthrow him, and together you and I can rule the galaxy,"

You opened your eyes, everything coming back to you, your father's death, how it felt to slaughter a whole family.

"make things the way we want them to be."

Anakin gripped onto you tightly, a prideful grin spreading across his face.

"Everyone turned against me but you." He said softly, kissing you.

"What if you hate what I become?" your boyfriend stressed, pacing up and down.

"I could never hate you, Anakin," you walked over to him, linking your arm with his metal one"I'll be with you through thick and thin."

tags: @autobotrosestark

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin imagines #anakin oneshots #obi wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagines #star wars fanfic

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char-lotta · 3 years

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Forgive me not (3/3)

Pairing: Jake x MC

Words: 2,8 k

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Summary: Forgetting is hard but forgiving is harder

A/N: See the end (spoilers)

Forgive me not, part three

You felt air escaping your lungs and the adrenaline just kept rushing in your veins, your poor heart pumped furiously trying to composure things which had totally pulled the rug under your feet. This couldn’t be happening.

“Can’t go offline now, huh?” she mocked you. Your muscles didn’t oblige your brains anymore, but to be honest, your brains were one slushy mess at this point. She was in control of this discussion and was pulling you in.

“H-h-how?” you finally muttered and heard her laugh bitterly. You couldn’t see anything funny in this situation and tried to find a place to sit down. The rain was pouring harder than ever, and you could barely hear her anymore. The thunder hit loudly; it was getting really near.

“When two adults love each other’s… - “she started, but then snorted, “- Oh wait. You didn’t love me.”

You tried to ignore her, since you knew that you loved her more than anything in this world, but you couldn’t. “I do love you”, you said in a quiet tone. You didn’t even realize that you didn’t use the past tense like she did, but she got it immediately.

“You love me? What kind of a man loves a woman and leaves her just because he loves her so much?” she asked. “What kind of man leaves a pregnant woman?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Well, you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want to know”, she erupted, and you could see her eyes on fire. You were still trying to understand what was going on, but the situation had gone out of control.

“Why didn’t you send me a message?” you asked dumbfound. You didn’t mean to blame her, you just wanted to understand, why didn’t she tell you before?

“Why didn’t I send you a message?” she spat furiously, and you knew that you had done a mistake. She literally exploded. “I tried to contact you months! I pleaded, I begged, I called you a hundred times, but it was all in vain.”

You could hear her tone getting muffled and saw those tears again glimmering in her eyes. “What was I supposed to do? You didn’t want to answer any of my texts”.

“But you didn’t say that you were pregnant”, you tried to be reasonable with her, but you picked the wrong words, you didn’t even get to finish your sentence when she burst again.

“FUCK YOU!” she yelled, and her neighbors dog started to bark above her in apartment, distracted by the noise. “It took me ages to pull my shit together and you are asking me, why I didn’t tell you via text that I was pregnant? Fuck you, Jake! And fuck me!”

“Well, that was the thing what got us in this situation, don’t you think”, you grunted. The dog was still barking, and someone turned lights on in the first floor. The place started to feel too public. “Could we please go inside?”

She looked like she would be going to slap you and you would not blame her for that, you would deserve it all. Before she got to say anything, you just took her hand and looked her intensely, pleading. “Please, MC. Let’s go inside.”

Something changed in her gaze and she looked thoughtful, and a few seconds later, she nodded withdrawing her hand quickly from yours. She leaded you through the stairwell to her new home, and you followed her as numb. While she was taking the stairs with loud thumps while marching, you could hear her muttering herself and picked up sentences; “all of the sudden he just shows up” and “I am not going to let him sneak in again”.

When you got inside her apartment, the brightness of the room blazed you for a second, since you had to get used to it after the street’s darkness. She walked to the closet looking for something, and returned with a few towels, handing one over to you. You took the towel with gratitude and for a minute, you both were silent while drying yourself.

Both of you were shivering of coldness, but you didn’t complain, and neither was she. She got rid of the thick and wet cardigan and you couldn’t help yourself, but you had to look it again.

The bump was clearly visible now and it looked so tiny in her body, and you couldn’t get hold of the idea that inside of the bump, was something produced by you. She noticed you looking at her but didn’t move. You moved your gaze in her eyes and looked her helplessly.

“I don’t know what to do”, you said desperately, trying to seek some comfort from her. She had always been so great soothing you and helped you cope the anxiousness and stress of yours, but now she was relentless. Still, it was unfair that she was the one who had to console you. But your thoughts were a mess and you just couldn’t understand how this happened.

“You do what you do best”, she said tiredly. “Go and leave me alone.”

Even now, when your life was shattering, you knew that you couldn’t do that for her, even though you wanted to get far from this situation as you could. Previously, you had put her in danger simply just being with her, but this… This was a whole new level for you. How on earth you could keep both of them safe?

Them…

The airways of yours felt tight again and you tried to get some air by moving your head and opening your mouth. One... Two… Three… you counted as you inhaled and exhaled. With your eyes closed, you tried to calm yourself now and could feel the rhythm of your heart slowing down.

There was a small tug in your hand, and you opened your eyes. She was nudging you towards the kitchen.

“C’mon, I’ll make you some tea”, she said, and you obliged.

You watched her boiling the water and getting two mugs in front of her in her cozy kitchen and could just admire her peacefulness.

“How can you be so calm?” you asked and hoped she wouldn’t get angry again. She looked you with a mysterious face but didn’t yell.

“I had enough time to panic already”, she said. “But those feelings you’re having now, well I had to face them alone.”

Her words didn’t sound accusing, but the rush of shame flooded into you. You had thought that it was best for her that she wouldn’t have to bear with you and risk her life for something you had done, but instead you had abandoned her in time, where she was needing you the most. You remembered your mother crying in the evenings for the absence of your father and even tough you were just a little boy; you had sworn that you would never be like your father. And you had failed miserably.

She handed in your tea and you took it in your own hands. Tea warmed your cold hands nicely and you could feel the blood flowing in your fingers after a while. You sat on the chair towards her and looked her in the eye.

She had never looked so beautiful as now. The dark, wet curls around her face, which were now calm, but those eyes… The green eyes of hers pierced you with their gaze, and you weren’t sure, what she was thinking. She looked so strong, independent, and full of life.

“I thought that you would contact me after I told you I have important things to discuss”, she said plainly and looked her hands, which were tight around her cup of tea. “You always told me that you would be there for me whatever happened, so when you weren’t… Well, I just didn’t want to humiliate myself more, since I thought you wouldn’t read my messages.” You could see the hands trembling in around her cup.

“I did read your messages”, you responded with sadness in your voice. “I tried to keep my promise to you, but with distance. I tried to keep you safe. I could never forgive myself if something happened for you just because of me. You didn’t choose this life, but I did. I knew that I would never be able to live normal life in the suburbs, having a job from 9 am – 5pm, couple of kids and a dog�� And those things are still so important since I wanted to give you a chance for those.”

Her explanation was reasonable, and you knew it. You had promised her those things before… When you had thought that it was possible to be near her and keep her safe by you.

“But you never asked me what I wanted”, she reminded you with kindness in her words. That was true, but why would she give up on everything she had? You couldn’t even promise to her that tomorrow was going to be a better day, since you did have no idea of tomorrow. You could be captured, and she would get trouble, just for being with you.

“I wanted to be with you”, she continued, and you could see the tears in her cheeks. There was a lump in your throat and carefully, you caressed her cheek, wiping the tears with your thumb. She took your hand in hers and for a moment, you got lost in her eyes. She was so amazing, letting you touch her after all you had done.

“I am so sorry”, you said in a muffled tone, and the vision of her started to get blurry. And you were, so fucking sorry for everything you had done, for any pain you had caused to her. She sobbed quietly and you couldn’t resist yourself and went around the table to her and pulled her close. Her head laid in your chest while she cried, and the sound of her crying was the worst thing you had ever heard. She sounded so broken.

“I am sorry”, you repeated, hugging her tightly.

You couldn’t ask for forgiveness of hers and didn’t even dare to hope it. But you sworn to her, that you would always be there for her and would provide her and it all the things they would ever need.

“Jake”, she whispered through her sobs. “It is a baby. Baby of yours, not it. She or he will be a tiny human of yours and mine.”

You buried your head in her hair, smelling that familiar scent of hers. Being a father was not the thing what you had ever expected to be or even dream of and you could not handle the thought. It felt like someone else’s life, not yours, the wanted by the government-hacker.

“But how?” you asked again, needing to understand.

“Do you remember that one night? When we woke up in the middle of the night, needing each other’s? We made love in half sleep”, she reminded you and suddenly you remembered.

That one night, you had woken up and the only thought in your head was I want you, and you had woken her up by gently, kissing her neck, just below her ear as she loved it. You couldn’t remember using the protection though.

“It was only one time”, you breathed.

“And it was all what was needed”, she answered. The silence fell between you, and after a while, you felt urge to explain, why you had left her.

“They sent me a picture of you to remind me, that they knew who you were”, you told her, head still in her hair. “It was a threat without a doubt, and I couldn’t let you continue this mess of what I call my life.”

She clung on your clothes and told you that she didn’t care, and you didn’t want to hear it. She could not give her life away just because of you, you would not be worth it. “But you are worth it”, she insisted, and you couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore and turned your gaze away. She pulled your face back to hers with her hand and told you again, that she would give anything to be with you.

“I want to wake up with you every single day of my life”, she said. “Even if it means that I’ll give up on my life as I know it now. We are meant to be together”, she exclaimed, taking your hand in yours.

“Think about it; we would never had met without the kidnapping of Hannah and we fell in love via messages without seeing each other’s face. And when we finally did, I didn’t want to let go of you ever. Those two months with you were the best time of my life”, she breathed quickly now.

You couldn’t believe your ears; all those words were too good to be true. She felt exactly the same with you, than you with her. The living without her was nothing but emptiness and sadness, that twisted image of life alone was not worth it. The purpose of your living was right here, in your arms.

“I don’t know how you could forgive me what I did”, you said and meant every word of yours. How could she? All your promises were empty, and you had left her alone.

“I have to”, she said. “And I want to. Not just for me, but for us”, she continued and took your hand to her stomach, and you could feel the baby bump under your hand.

“I don’t dream of those things you told me”, she explained. “I dream of us being together, all three of us. We might not be the most traditional family, but we are still family”, she continued.

“I don’t know how to do this”, you admitted nervously. Nothing could prepare you for this moment advance, since this was the door in your life which had been closed forever. Or so you had thought.

“You just need to be with us”, she assured you. “Forget those pursuers of yours, we can figure out together how to get rid of those. We can always move outside of the country and start all over again”, she sounded little bit excited now.

For a moment, you pulled being reasonable aside and let yourself think about her suggestion. It was a possibility, but you would need a new identities and passports. You had friends who could help with those easily and first time in years, you had hope.

“I can not promise you that we would be always safe and clear”, you reminded her, but she hushed you.

“I know. But when the time comes, we’ll solve it out together”, she answered with assuring tone. “You just have to promise one thing though.”

“And what is that?”

“Stop escaping your happiness now”, she looked you in a stern face. “And don’t you ever leave me.”

You looked her in the eyes and knew, that there would be no turning back from this. The choice of yours was easy, but you still hesitated since this was her life you were talking now, and she was so eager to hand it over to you, just for the opportunity of being together. She saw the pain in your face and knew, that it wasn’t because you didn’t want those things, but you were afraid.

“I love you, Jake”, she breathed and came closer. Her lips looked so soft, inviting you back to the light. Your lips met carefully, having a taste of each other’s, but suddenly you felt this hot burn inside of you and you got greedy, pulling her closer, kissing her passionately, draining all the misery, sadness and fears out. She nibbed your lower lip and you let a small moan escape on your lips, why would I ever wanted to let go of this. Your hand was in her hair, grasping a solid place to hold on, and your other hand wandered in the surface of her spine.

You two parted as breathing quickly, grasping for air. Your hands stayed in their places and you just knew, that you had made your decision; you were going through this together. All three of you.

“I love you, Jake”, she repeated and looked you desperately. “You can not leave me again, I will not have it, you hear me?”

You nodded and you told her that you would do anything that you could, so you could have a fresh start together somewhere else. You kissed her lightly and caressed her bump gently. This was a wild territory for you, but you would do anything for your family, not just because promise of yours when you had looked your mother, but because you wanted to spend the rest of your life with them.

“I love you too“, you whispered to her ear and she rewarded you with a kiss.

A/N: This was probably the hardest chapter to write, but still, the quickest one. My idea of Jake being so insecure comes from his need to protect MC, even if it causes him to be in pain. He have always wanted the best for her. I hope you like this story as much I did writing this :) Thank you for sticking with me till the end!

#duskwood fanfiction #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood #duskwood jake #everbyte duskwood #jake x mc #jake x player

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the-broken-truth · 3 years

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The Strings That Bind Us ~ The Lords' Dinner

Summary: The Day of the Lord Dinner has arrived: The Meals are prepared, the table is set, the guests are arriving, but are the hosts ready? Can Donna handle the stress of housing her family for this dinner? Will all of Vulcan's hard work be in vain? More importantly - What is Vulcan's Truth?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Vulcan

[House Beneviento - Dining Room]

The last crystal wine glass was placed in Miranda's place at the table by the hand of the dollmaker. Donna stood at her full height as she gazed upon the set table: 4 plate mats, 4 crystal wine glasses, 4 sets of utensils sat on the long edges of the table - 2 of each on either side. 2 more of the same set up sat on the short edges of the table - one across from the other. Donna looked at the written-down diagram Vulcan gave her - the seating chart to make sure there were going to be no issues.

Donna and Mother Miranda would be across from each other at the lone plates.

Alcina would sit next to Moreau and be across from Vulcan, who would be sitting next to Heisenberg and Donna.

Broken Truth: In Clockwork Order: Donna, Vulcan, Heisenberg, Mother Miranda, Moreau, Alcina, then back to Donna. Get it? Got it? Good.

After looking at the paper then back at the table, Donna let out an exhale; she was not looking forward to this.

"Calm down, Mother; Papa will make sure this dinner is going to be perfect." Angie said as she floated up to Donna's height. The dollmaker smiled at the nickname Angie gave Vulcan.

"I know he will, it's just...I'm not looking forward to dealing with them; especially Alcina, who had the nerve of laying her hands on my partner." Donna exhaled as she took a seat in her chair.

"That understandable but you know Papa knows how to deal with her and say no. He wouldn't leave us, Mother." Angie said as she walked over to Donna's side.

"I know he wouldn't - as I've said before, I trust him; I don't trust Alcina or Heisenberg around him. I mean - he goes to take their orders & Alcina sinks her teeth into him while Heisenberg sends his creatures against him. I'm even skeptical of Mother Miranda - I've seen the way she's started at him before and I don't like it." Donna said as she rubbed her forehead, careful not to touch the Cadou Scar - it still bothered her; while Vulcan accepted her, she wished she could be more for him.

"Don't worry, Mother. They won't try anything against Papa; it's against Lord Dinner Rules." Angie said.

"Thanks for reminding me. Speaking of Vulcan, where is he? The others will be arriving soon." Donna asked as she looked at her doll.

"Papa said he had to pick a few things up from the Duke." Angie answered.

Donna opened her mouth to speak when the sound of heavy knocking upon the front door filled her ears.

"Let's hope he gets back soon, the show is about to begin." Donna said as she rose from her chair to answer the door. Opening it, she came face to face with her first guest.

"Well, good afternoon, Little Sister." Smiled the Mistress of Castle Dimitrescu.

"Alcina, I see you're the first one here. Please, come in." Donna said as she made way for the tall woman to come in. It made Donna chuckle as she watched Alcina try to get her tall figure into her door.

[Meanwhile - In The Village]

"A Bottle of Romanian Red for 5000 - A Bottle of White for 3000 - A Bottle of Southern Whiskey for 1500 - And one bottle of Grape Wine for 2000. Your total will be 11,500 Lei." The Duke said as he placed all the wines in boxes individually before placing all the boxes in a paper bag. Vulcan stood before him - his House Beneviento Suit was repaired and crisp, his hair was gelled back and brushed back. The Duke watched as the House Servant counted out the respected amount of money and placed it in a separate pouch.

"Here you go." Vulcan said as he handed the pouch to the large man - who smiled and handed the bag of drinks to Vulcan.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Lord Vulcan." Vulcan exhaled at the notion.

"Duke, for the last time - I'm not a Lord, even if I'm courting a Lady of a Noble House." Vulcan said but that was met with a chuckle and a shake of the Duke's head.

"That is where you are wrong, My Boy." The Duke said.

"What are you talking about?" Vulcan said.

"For as long as you have lived, you lacked one thing - A Surname." The Duke explained.

"Just how do you know that?" Vulcan asked.

"I've been around of a very long time, my boy; over hundreds of years to be exact. I know things that others would see as superstition. As for what I'm talking about - do you remember anything about the family who ruled the house at the belly of the wild woods?" The Duke asked with a smile.

"The Bloodthorn Family?" Vulcan asked. "What about them?"

"That house was been vacant since the last master died of...unknown circumstances, yet the house remains locked; many have tried to enter but the house remains locked - only opening with the right key." The Duke said.

"What does the Bloodthorn's House have to do with me?" Vulcan asked as he secured the bag of drinks in his arms.

"Let's just say - your right arm might be more than just a vessel." The Duke said with a smile. The two of them exchanged goodbyes before Vulcan turned on his heel and walked away.

'My right arm might be more than a vessel?' Vulcan wondered as he looked at his right arm.

[Back at the Beneviento House]

All the guests had arrived - Alcina arrives first, followed by Heisenberg, behind him, Mother Miranda arrived and Moreau followed like a lost dog. Donna greeted them all and gave everyone their assigned seats - with the seat between Donna and Heisenberg remaining empty.

"Where is Vulcan, Donna?" Mother Miranda asked from her seat across from Donna.

"He went to see the Duke for something - he will return in a moment." Donna said.

"Hmph." That was all Miranda gave in response.

"Quite a shame, I was hoping for a little sweet talk before the meal started." Alcina said with a smile.

"You will not be getting it here, Alcina. Keep your distance from Vulcan." Donna gave a warning as she glared at her larger sister's figure.

"Why so angry, Donna? You look like a mad kitten." Alcina chuckled.

"This 'kitten' has claws and will not hesitate to use them if you don't keep your distance from that which is not yours." Donna said.

"Ah - I see. Vulcan told you about our little moment in Castle Dimitrescu." Alcina chuckled.

"There was no moment." A familiar voice called out - everyone turned to see Vulcan standing in the dining room threshold with a paper bag in his hands. He gave a bow to the table of lords. "Please forgive me for not being here to welcome you all - I had to make an important purchase. I shall collect the meals and prepare your drinks." Vulcan rose to his full height and walked past the table of lords and disappeared into the kitchen.

"At least he knows how to make a decent apology." Miranda said.

"Vulcan is truly well behaved, Mother Miranda," Alcina said as she looked at the village leader. "I think he is too well behaved for Donna." Alcina said.

"Stop, Alcina." Miranda said. "The male is that of House Beneviento, leave the mortal alone to serve his mistress." Miranda said.

"That male is no mortal, Mother Miranda. His blood told me that." Alcina said this made Miranda raise her eyebrow.

"What do you mean he is not mortal?" Miranda asked.

"No mortal has blood as...divine as his - not even the maidens I use to craft Sanguis Virginis. He is more than a mortal and he shouldn't be wasted on Donna; give him to me and I shall use him to create a powerful bloodline unlike any other." Alcina proposed.

"Now, hold the hell on." Karl interrupted. "If anyone else gets him, it's me - that bastard is too good of a fighter for me to let you turn him into a breeding machine." Karl said.

"Neither of you is getting my Papa, so stop thinking that!" Angie yelled at them, making are look at the living doll.

"Your...Papa?" Miranda started as she turned her gaze from Angie and looked into the eye of Donna. "Is there something that you want to tell me, Donna?" Miranda said.

"No...Not at the moment. I'll inform all of you later." Donna said as she closed her eye - trying to calm down from the shaking feeling from inside her chest.

Before anyone could speak again - the kitchen door was opened by a serving cart carrying 6 meals covered by a silver shield on its surface on the top and 5 different bottles of drink on the bottle - the cart being pushed by the servant of House Beneviento.

"Meals shall be presented." Vulcan stated as he lifted the first two platters by their bottoms and walked over to Donna and Miranda but didn't remove the covers - he then did the same with Alcina and Heisenberg before finishing with Salvatore's then his own. He went back to the cart and retrieved the drinks, filling each lords' glass with the drink of their choice; he then returned the bottles to the cart once all the drinks were poured. He took his place beside Donna and looked at the silver covers that concealed the meals before he raised his right and snapped.

Instantly - all of the silver coverings disappeared and the lords stared in awe at the food before them.

"How did you make the covers disappear?" Miranda asked.

"I'll explain later, Lady Miranda; for now, let us dine on food and beverages." Vulcan said before he took his seat.

Miranda looked upon the lasagna before her - it looked perfect and smelled divine but would it be good? She lifted her fork, cutting through a corner of the pasta, and lifted it to her lips, taking the first bite of the dinner. There was a widening of her eyes but she was quick to revert them back - the slowness of her chewing made it clear that she was savoring the taste of the food. The other lords followed suit and all their reactions were the same - it was clear they loved the food.

"This is perfect. You really outdid yourself with the sauce this time, Vulcan." Donna said as she lifted the spaghetti noodles to her lips, slurping them between her lips before chewing with a smile. "What did you use this time?" She asked.

"I use a little bit more garlic this time but I wasn't sure if I altered the recipe too much." Vulcan said as he took a bite out of his garlic bread.

"Recipe? You made the sauce yourself?" Alcina asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk hiding behind her wine glass.

"I made everything myself, including the noodles. I happened the purchase a machine that shaped the noodles to my liking and continued from them." Vulcan said.

"Well, this blood steak is perfect; quite a shame you didn't use your blood in the sauce, it would have been heavenly." Alcina purred as she took another bite of her steak.

"My blood is off limits unless Donna asks for it." Vulcan said.

"Donna? You mean 'Lady Beneviento'. You are not allowed to use your mistress's first name as if you are equals when you are not." Miranda said with a glare.

"We are equals, Mother." Donna spoke up.

"Donna, dear. He is not the same as you - you are of noble blood while he is common cloth." Miranda said as she looked at her daughter.

"That doesn't matter to me. Vulcan has done so much for me and...I would never consider my partner beneath me."

Cue complete and utter silence.

*Crickets Chirping In The Background*

"Donna..." Miranda said in a low voice "What do you mean 'Your Partner'?" Miranda asked in a snarl.

"Mother, Vulcan and I are...in a relationship, we began courting the same night you announced we would hosting the Lord Dinner here; he asked me to trust him with getting everyone's orders the next day." Donna said as she looked down at her food. Everything was quiet before Alcina's chuckling caused everyone to look in her direction.

"Her? Surely you jest, Vulcan." She looked into his eyes "I could give you more than her - you could live like a king in Castle Dimitrescu and have everything."

"For what? I told you before that I have everything I could ever want and need with Donna and Angie; I traveled to become worthy for them and no one else." Vulcan said.

"I told you, you would never be worthy of her!" Miranda said as she glared at Vulcan. "You are dirt, filth, mud under my daughter's shoes and you have the nerve to try to court her?! I should feed you to Heisenberg's Lycans!"

"M-Mother, Donna is happy with him... Isn't that enough for you to leave them be?" Salvatore asked as he looked at her.

"Shut up, Freak! No one is talking to you!" Heisenberg yelled, making the 3rd Lord shiver and duck.

"I told you to stop disrespecting your brother like that, Karl Heisenberg!" Vulcan growled at Karl.

"That freak is not my brother! I have nothing to do with him and I never will!" Karl said.

"You have the nerve to say that and you use his Lycans as you see fit?!" Vulcan yelled.

"His Lycans? They are mine." Karl said.

"Lies - You know it just like I do: Lord Moreau was the one who created the Lycans and you bullied him into making you more." Vulcan glared at the 4th Lord.

"You...You know?" Salvatore asked with a quivering lip.

"On my way out of your domain, I noticed a few things: doctor's supplies and a journal. It was wrong of me, I know, but my heart couldn't just let me walk away. I know you made the Lycans using the Cadou and Wolf's Blood to please Madame Miranda and I always know that Heisenberg has been bulling you to make new kinds of Lycan - like the Valcolac and Urias." Vulcan said as he began to rise to his feet. "Lord Moreau, you do so much to make Madame Miranda and the family you know happy but no one really gives you the respect you deserve...so I am going to return to you what the Cadou took from you."

Everyone looked wide-eyed at his words but Moreau was the most confused.

"What do you mean?" The small man asked.

"Come with me outside and I shall show you." Vulcan said as he began to remove his house jacket, revealing the dress shirt he hand underneath. Vulcan placed the jacket on the back of his chair before making his way around the table, to the first door - he could sense Moreau following him. The two of them made it outside, down the stairs, and stood in the front yard - the other lords rushed out the house to see what Vulcan was doing.

Vulcan lifted his right hand, using his left hand to lift his sleeve to reveal his forearm - Miranda's eyes widened as she saw that familiar red glow shine through Vulcan's skin as runes and markings riddled all along his forearm.

'Those markings - He can't be...'

"Lord Moreau, I need you to close your eyes: I want you to remember what you looked like before the Cadou changed you. Remember who you were before all of this happened. Remember the brilliant doctor you once were." Vulcan's word echoed in Salvatore's mind as he seemed to have fallen in a trance - remembering who he once was before he became a lord.

Before he made the Lycans.

Before he got the Cadou.

Before he met Mother Miranda.

Once the image was in his mind - he felt a hand grasp his face followed by a horrible pain that ripped him to pieces. Moreau couldn't see anything - he was standing in an endless void of darkness, but he could hear thing echoing in the darkness:

Donna's screams.

Miranda demanding to know what he did to Moreau.

Heisenberg's incoherent muttering.

Then, he heard Vulcan: "Remember who you once was and come forward - walk to my voice."

Moreau did just that - he began walking forward and things began becoming clear: he saw fragments of his life before all this happened - he saw the patients he helped, the happiness on their faces, and how it made him happy - he remembered how much he loved his work and the feeling it gave him to see a project through - he remembered standing before the bedroom vanity of the house he built his own hands. That all come together into a bright light before him - and he entered it with a sense of...completeness.

Then he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the smile on Vulcan's face - there were a few spicks of blood upon it but...he noticed he was standing perfectly fine - his face leveled with Vulcan's if not a little bit more. He looked over Vulcan's shoulder to look at his family - they all looked as if they saw ghosts.

"What...Why are you all looking at me like that?" His voice was different - it wasn't gurgling as before, he spoke perfectly clear and his voice was deeper than Karl's. "What's wrong with my voice?" He asked as his hands reached up to touch his throat - his human throat.

He looked down at his hands - human hands of pale skin but not too pale. He looked at Vulcan who gestured him to follow - he did with no argument. The two of them went back into the house and Vulcan pointed to the first mirror he saw, the 3rd Lord walked over to it and gasped.

He was human. Completely human!

His hand touched his face before reaching up and running through his long grey hair, he had a beard with grey eyes. He was fit but had a bit of a belly and was still wrapped in the black tarp he used to conceal him but it looked more like a cloak now upon his human body.

"I'm human... I'm normal." He said before turning to Vulcan. "What did you do?" He asked.

"I returned what you lost. I felt how bad you felt about your looks, that why you were so willing to do what you had to do to earn the love of the people you knew as your family and the woman you knew as your mother. I gave that back and you didn't lose anything. You still have your Cadou but it's more like an extra organ now - you have your abilities; that's why you have closed gills on the side of your neck." Vulcan pointed them - 2 sealed gills on either side of Salvatore's neck. "They'll open when you go into the water so you can break."

Salvatore turned back to look at the mirror while Vulcan turned the look at Karl with a smirk.

"Can't call him a freak anymore, can you, Karl Heisenberg?" Vulcan smirked.

"Why you..." Karl growled.

"That's enough." Miranda said as everyone looked at her.

"But, Mother Miranda..."Alcina began before Miranda silenced her.

"I said enough, Alcina. We will speak of this on a later day but now, we will finish the Lord Dinner and...reflect on this day's revelations." She finished as she walked back to the table.

Everyone followed her hand the dinner continued in silence, as did dessert. Once everyone was gone, Donna walked up to Vulcan who was clearing the table before surprising him with a kiss.

"Thank you for what you did for Salvatore...I've never seen him so happy before." Donna said as she placed her hand on Vulcan's chest.

"I'm happy I could help him." Vulcan noticed a familiar glare in Donna's eyes. "Is there something you want to ask me?" He smiled.

"I..." She wasn't sure what to say. "I was wondering...is it possible..."

"You want me to return what you lost when you got your Cadou, don't you?" Vulcan finished.

"I...yes." She looked at Vulcan's eyes full of hope. "Can you?"

"For you..." He placed his hands on her shoulder. "I would do anything." He placed his lips on the Cadou scar and a golden glow filled the room, engulfing them both in a warm embrace.

[Meanwhile]

Miranda sat alone in the darkness of her domain in her chair as she looked out her window that overlooked the whole village, a glass of wine in her hand.

"I thought they were all gone..." Her lips curved into a smirk. "This could be my chance." She rose and walked over to the window, looking down at the village - mainly, House Beneviento.

"Eva shall return to me and you will be the one to do it, Vulcan Bloodthorn."

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x male oc #resident evil 8

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cheyningdiamond · 3 years

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Seen You Once Before...

Oh boy another SherHank fic? Yes. Yes it is. WARNINGS: Death, Gore, Blood, Crying, Topic of giving up on life, This is gonna be a depressing fic sorta so just be weary

It was a cold rainy night in Nevada. Sheriff was about to be executed by the agents for his cowardly acts and being deemed 'obsolete' by the Auditor. Sheriff hung his head, not wanting to look up as the Agent had a gun pointing to the back of his head. They were mocking, laughing at him. "Weeell, poor ol' cowboy here's gonna yee his last haw, ain't that right, fellers!?" One mocking his accent. "Such a shame... He lived as a coward and he'll die as one too~" The other laughed. The third one glared at them both. "Just shoot the fuckin' pussy in the head. I wanna grab a bite to eat soon." Sheriff tightly closed his eyes, staring down at his hat in front of him. His hands were tied behind his back and at this point, he didn't wanna even attempt to escape. All his life was had been nothing but failure. He failed to kill Hank.

He failed trying to protect Nevada. He even failed the Auditor. No matter what he did, who's side he was on, it just led to death, failure, and regret. He snapped out of his deep thoughts as he felt the barrel of the gun poke at the back of his head, touching his greasy light brown hair. "Any last words?" The agent smirked. "...Go fuck yerself." He replied coldly. "Ohoh, finally decided to grow a pair... Little too late for that, cowboy." He cocked the gun, and Sheriff closed his eyes again. They heard a gunshot, followed by an explosion, but it only left Sheriff on the ground with ringing ears. He opened his light brown eyes and witnessed the agent dead behind him. His head had been completely blown off and the gun beside him was on the ground. He looked up, seeing a familiar muscular black-wearing figure pounce on another agent, smashing his head into the wall, leaving red paste stained on the silver metal-like material. The last agent shrieked and tried shooting at Hank but ultimately missed. The agent was backed up by the window and with an easy kick, was sent flying out of the 4 story window, dying upon impact with the cold hard ground below. Sheriff looked up weakly, seeing the fire coming out of the hallway through the room doors. What shined in the fire was the red glasses wearing mercenary, staring down at him. His metal jaw was exposed and his outfit was torn slightly, like he had been through a rougher fight not too long ago. Sheriff knew he must've came to kill him off too, so he closed his eyes. "Just do it quick, Wimbleton... Ah know it's comin'..." He had tears forming in his eyes. He was deathly afraid of Hank. And Hank knew this. He was roughly lifted up by his jacket, but was thrown over the taller figure's shoulder. He blinked and watched Hank as they ran down the hallway, carefully not getting too close to the fires that burned down the facility. Sheriff started to reluctantly squirm. Where were they taking him!? Why won't they just kill him off!? He was waiting! There was nothing else! Sheriff started to yell. "Git off'a me!" He barked, kicking his legs weakly. This earned a very gruff. "Knock it off." From Hank. The metallic jaw had given him more of a echo-like and steel-grindy voice. Sheriff kept kicking as they reached the exit. He had to witness Hank shooting and killing every guard that got in his way from the room he found Clayton in, to now. They were finally outside in the pouring rain and Hank rushed to the van. They were pretty much in the clear now and Hank opened the trunk of the van, setting Sheriff in. Without hesitation, Sheriff kicked him in the knee, making him stumble back. He regained his posture and angrily grabbed the smaller man by his jaw, pinning him down to the trunk floor. "Now dammit, stop!" Hank snarled. Sheriff had tears in his eyes, but he was pissed. "Wh-Why th' Hell didn' you let me die back there!? They were doin' you a damn favor!" He hiccuped as he glared up at the Wimbleton, who stared coldly back with his red, blood-colored glasses. There was definitely blood stained on them. "Just. Stop. Squirming..." Hank growled. He forced Sheriff to sit up and pulled out a knife. Sheriff breathed sharply, thinking it was going into him as he closed his eyes. 'Finally, just end it. Please.' He thought. Hank pressed his body up against the Sheriff and began cutting the ropes that restrained his wrists. Sheriff just gave up. Obviously his time wasn't coming today. "Why're you helpin' me!? Last time ah checked, you wanted me dead!" "Well, things change, don't they?" He got off of him, removing his knee off of the truck and took Sheriff's hands, pulling him out of the trunk. "Come on. We're leaving." "A-Ah ain't goin' nowhere with you..." "You don't have a say in this. Now get in." Hank opened the passenger side of the van. Sheriff backed away, holding his shoulders. "A-Ah said no..." "Clayton-" Hank grabbed his arm, now furious. Sheriff snapped. "A-Ah said NO!!" Out of anger, he slapped Hank hard across the face. His glasses had fallen

onto the ground

and even broke from the sheer impact of the slap. Sheriff looked at Hank, then at his hand. Holy fuck. Did he just slap Hank fucking Wimbleton?? Ohh no. Hank held the side of his face and his ear rung from the impact and glared at Sheriff. Sheriff's eyes got big. Slapping Hank wasn't the only thing that shook him to his core... He stared deeply into his eyes. Those different colored eyes. She flashed in his memory. The train. Sheriff stared and started to shake. More tears fell from his face, his mouth was slightly agape as he started to say the name. That name. Hank glared and put his hand over Sheriff's mouth before he could even utter it. "...We're going. Now." Hank grabbed Clayton and shoved him into the seat and shutting the door. He walked over and got in the driver's seat, slamming his door. Clayton could tell he was frustrated now. This sent fear chilling up his body. No fucking way. Hank was once... A friend of his? Someone he got along well with!? He couldn't even believe, or even imagine Hank and him being friends. Or even sharing a laugh over something... Sheriff felt his stomach pit from the overwhelming stress. Both from earlier and now becoming too much. Hank silently drove away from the burnt down building, looking at it through his rearview mirror. Sheriff wanted to speak. He was pissed. He was afraid. He was confused. Why was- How did- Who- He couldn't even form questions in his head right now. Hank stared at the road as he drove. Only thing that could be heard was their gruff and heavy breathing. Sheriff stared into Hank's eyes as he drove. At this point, he decided to just figure out what was going on now. "...Wh-Where're ya takin' me...?" Hank ignored him as he drove. "...N-Now dammit, answer me!" He snapped, his voice shaking and cracked. This made Hank talk. "I'm taking you to our facility. You're still beat up and you clearly need a place to stay now, yeah?" He glared at him. "S-Since when did you even care...?" "..." "Why are you helpin' me!? What good have ah ever been to you fer you to help me!?" "Oh fucking Christ, can't you just be thankful!?" Hank suddenly yelled, feeling his temper get the best of him. "No! Yer a damn menace! A blight! All you want is people dead so long as it fills yer sick desires!" "I kill who I must. And in about 3 seconds if you don't shut your damn mouth, I'll add another on my list..." "Do it!!" Clayton screamed. "Ah ain't got nothin' anymore!" The cowboy started to come down into choked sobs as he yelled. "Ah failed my people, ah failed Nevada, ah even failed workin' for the Auditor because ah was too weak!" He glared at Hank. "So just fuckin' do it already! What's been stoppin' ya!?" There was a screech as Hank slammed his foot on the brake, roughly pressing Sheriff against the dashboard from the jolt. "Urgh-!" He grunted as he put his hands in front of himself to stop himself from smashing his face with the dashboard. Hank closed his eyes and started taking deep breaths. Was he, trying to calm down? That was rare... As far as Clayton knew the only stress reliever Hank knew what to do was kill kill kill. Hank slowly opened his eyes after a minute passed, staring at the dusty road they were on. With a low growl, he finally spoke. "...I don't know." Sheriff looked at him. "As far as I'm concerned, I should've had you dead ages ago... …But, I never did. I could've easily killed you back there before Jeb stabbed me dead. Every little attempt I just let you go. Is it pity? Do I feel bad for you? Fuck if I know." Clayton stared at Hank. "...What happened to you?" He spoke. "You were gonna be a mother. You had a calm life. You had a normal life as a normal person, man or woman, no matter! Why th' hell would you go and create all this chaos!?" Hank stared down, looking away from him. "I wasn't exactly fully innocent when you first met me, Clay..." Clayton stared. "H-Huh-?" "I had already killed a man. A man who was nothing but a drunk. A man who I unfortunately had fallen for." He started up the car as he

finished talking. "That was just my luck. But don't ever go and tell me I was innocent before. I never was. Never will be." He kept driving as Sheriff stared. "Yer, husband... Ya killed him?? That's why he was deceased when we spoke?" "...It was more self defense. He was gonna kill me and my son. I couldn't let him. So, I just..." Hank shook his head. Of everyone he killed, that was the last kill he ever wanted to talk about, let alone think it. "I don't wanna talk about it. Will you shut up and just let me take you back to get patched?" Sheriff sighed and nodded slowly. Fuck, he felt horrible now. Never would he thought they would've killed a soul back then. It was a silent 15 minute drive. The radio station played music but it was static and cut off every now and again. Clayton finally had the courage to speak up. To apologize. "...A-Ah'm sorry, Hank..." Clayton looked down. "For what?" "F-Fer everythin'... This whole war, what you went through... Er, givin' ya the big one eariler..." He looked at his hand, which still ached. Slapping teeth and metal really didn't tickle on the hand. Hank sighed. "It's, whatever. It's over now so no need to dwell on it." Clayton sighed. "Just- why? Why cause all this unnecessary violence? Why create this madness?" Hank kept his eyes on the road, but had a grim look. "...I can't exactly say... I never intended for this to be a full war." Sheriff shook his head. Everything was peaceful back then. Everyone played music, they all had a good time, just, living. Now look at it. The once gray-blue skies now black and red. Hank finally stopped the van once they were out at the hideout doors. He got out and opened the Sheriff's door. "Out. No more struggling..." Clayton nodded slowly and stepped out. With a hand on Clayton's shoulder, Hank led him inside... What was gonna happen? Was this where he was going to live...? Sheriff took a deep breath and just decided to wait and see...

#my fics #sheriff #hank #madness combat #holy shit this took foreveerrrr #if enough ppl like it i will continue #just not tonight am exhausted

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maree-ff · 3 years

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Interlude: Remission

CAMILA

Excited, joyful, in lust, anxious, nervous, and overwhelmed. These are all of the emotions I was hit with at three o’clock this morning when I woke up to begin my day. Today officially marks five weeks, seventy-two hours and sixteen minutes since I ruined our relationship. Today also marks the same amount of time that Jorden has completely flipped his switch. His behavior is nothing like Andre or I have ever dealt with. I know I’m to blame for calling off our engagement but it’s almost as if Jorden feels like I took his father away. That was never my intention by any means. I only wanted for Andre and I to take some time out to explore every crevice of our relationship. The energy in our union has been off and I want to know what the root of the issue is.

Papi’s been coming by everyday to bring the kids home from school. He’s even stayed to tuck them in, help me clean up from the aftermath of dinner and then he leaves. He’s been distant, rightfully so, but I miss him! I’ve been yearning for attention and I haven’t craved male companionship in ages! Tonight, I’m going to try and do things differently. I’ve been spying on him to get his schedule for today so I can scheme and coordinate in peace. Andre didn’t pick up the kids today because I asked for his mother to do it herself. The girls are helping me choose what to wear for my weekend away while their baby brother is napping.

Sliding my boots on I tiptoed around the mess I created, rushing to get their opinion. I spun around, danced a little, showing off another outfit I pieced together.

“Okay, nenas...what about this?” I’m frantic. I am supposed to be meeting Dre at a resort in Palm Springs. He has an assignment there for the weekend so I figured this is the perfect time for us to fix what’s broken.

“Shoes..perfect. Outfit..even better.” Zoe smiles assuringly.

Kenja tilted her head left and right before responding to my question. “Perfecto..”

“Perfecto? La verdad o es esa actitud que estoy escuchando?” I sassed her.

“Si..la verdad. Mom, mira la hora por favor.” She pointed out. Glancing at my watch I cursed under my breath, rushing to get out of here. I tossed what I need for the weekend in my bag, smothering my girls in affection. I looped my bag over my shoulder and quietly raced up the steps to check on my youngest baby.

Cautiously I entered his bedroom, blushing at the mere sight of him. “Mommy’s going to fix this nino. I promise. For you and tu hermanas.” Shuffling to his bed I pulled his blanket up over his stomach to keep him warm. “Mommy loves you baby. I’ll see you when I get back and I’ll make sure to kiss Papi for you, if he’ll let me.” I kissed his forehead and backed away before he had the chance to wake up.

I left his room, spoke to Divya briefly and headed straight for Palm Springs.

———— ————

Pushing the bottle further down into the ice bucket I turned around to check out the room. I managed to get an extra key to his hotel suite since he’s still out. I got a phone call from Meah saying that he should be arriving shortly.

“Mommy,” I exhaled. Clutching the Bible to my chest I looked out at the sun setting over the horizon. “Necesito su orientación.” My spirit feels alive again. I can feel her. “I need you to walk me through this. I ruined my relationship and I need to get it back. Please watch over me and don’t let me screw this up.” Marking my body in favor of the cross I set the Bible down and put some final touches on his room.

About fifteen minutes later I heard a key unlatch the lock to the room.

“Alright, look I’ll tell you what. Let me look over the proposal, run the account and find the bug.” The door shut and the automatic lock clicking made me jump out of my skin. These goddamn nerves! Quickly I downed one of the shots I poured, needing to calm myself before he saw me. I stood tall by the window, looking out at the montañas and hills. “No man, I will personally take care of the firewall and the hiccup in your account. Why don’t you sen-”

Our eyes met the second his speech paused. With the phone to his ear, he silently set his bag down, looking me up and down. “I will have my assistant contact you so you can get me that file personally. Once I get to the bottom of this I will call you..” he motioned to the glass signaling for me to pour him a drink.

I did as he asked, going ahead to fill two glasses.

“Of course. I’ll get back to you in a few days.” His phone touched the desk as did his jacket. “I’m surprised.” He simply stated.

Closing our distance I handed him the glass, holding my own with two hands. “I know.” I agreed. “Necesitamos hablar.” I sipped on my champagne, reading his energy from the body language he’s showing.

“About?” He too sipped from his glass, going to remove his tie.

“Let me..” I offered. I set my glass down to complete the task I offered to take off his hands. A mass of nothing but fears from my subconscious lodged my airways, making it difficult to look at him. “Habla sobre nosotros, nuestra familia y el futuro de nuestra relación.” The slow movement and slithering sound of his tie falling across his shoulder made my heart skip a beat.

“So let’s talk then. Where should we start? You breaking up our family or completely blind siding me at dinner that night?” I knew this surprise visit from me would be a battle but I wasn’t expecting fire this quickly.

I draped his tie over the back of the chair, not wanting the fabric to catch wrinkles. “Don’t do that. I don’t want to fight with you tonight. For you and for us but not with you.” I created space between us, giving him room to breathe again.

“Why not? There’s enough issues to go around that we can argue about right? Isn’t that what you were saying five weeks ago when you tore our family apart?” He’s agitating me and he knows it. He’s pressing my buttons on purpose but I sympathize with his anger and hurt.

“Everything. Papi, we can fix this. I want to fix this. I broke us apart and for good reason but I want to make it right. I never wanted to hurt you or our family.” The sun has vanished leaving the sky lit up in the most beautiful orange and yellow blend.

“Mm..that’s the memo I got and if I’m correct you did hurt me. You hurt our bond, our love and our kids.” He calmly explained his point, fully raising my nerves.

Snapping my head in his direction I warned him not to steer us down a path we may not recuperate from. He clapped back at me as if I’m not in this fight with him.

“Ay, basta ahora! No me hables así! I hurt myself too, okay? You’re not the only one who got hurt that night alright? Stop trying to make me feel like crap and help me fix the problem!” Waving my hand for him to cut the nonsense out, I paced the floor waiting for him to react.

“What problem, Camila? Tell me what are these problems you speak of? I never saw any facet of our relationship that was broken and needed to be fixed. Were you imagining things that aren't real? What is it?”

“Our chemistry must have been off, Dre. It didn’t feel like old times. Y me estás llaman loco? That’s not fair of you to say! I meant what I said and how I feel is valid. You cannot deny the way I feel! Those are my feelings and I am entitled to them!” I yelled.

He approached me silently, picking up the shot from the tray. He threw it back, poured another two rounds, encouraging me to take second. “Our chemistry? What about our chemistry? Break it down for me. We have all weekend right? That’s why your bag is partially unpacked and you got a second key to the room? Well let’s get to the bottom of this shall we?”

He doesn’t know this but that was my fifth shot since I checked in. The scent of his cologne sent my desire for lust, love, affection, attention, you name it..into overdrive. I rolled my eyes swiftly as he walked past me into the living room of the suite. I followed him thinking of how to recite my feelings.

“Well..I feel like you’re still holding back. You never opened up about what happened to you while you were away. You’ve changed, baby. I recognized the signs when you came home. I didn’t pester you about my concerns because I had enough to deal with already. But you have changed and I just want you to feel comfortable enough to be open with me about what you went through.” Removing my earrings I placed them on the coffee table. Andre was mute. He drew an invisible figure eight with the champagne flute in his hand. “Coming here was intentional my love but stressing you out wasn’t.” I reminded him. I inched over to the large windows, taking in the views with him.

Throwing back the remaining champagne, Andre set the glass down by his feet. “Yeah I changed. I’m ashamed of a lot of events that have taken place over the course of my life. You know that. Being away is at the very top of that list. You know that too. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to share at all with anyone but God himself. I can’t.” He disagreed.

Cupping the nape of his neck I fingered the smooth hair, getting excited. He hasn’t touched me in weeks and I’m still breastfeeding so my hormones are driving me batshit crazy. I have been forced to stick out this drought between us, calculating how long until I get him back. Allow me to be frank and say that I have ventured down the road of self pleasure but it takes too long. I’m capable of satisfying myself on a small scale but I need him for that soul snatching, big time release.

“I’m not shaming you, papi. I would never do that. Though I strongly urge you to reconsider. God is an excellent choice mi amor pero I-” his hand claimed my throat as he backed me into the glass. The liquor in my bloodstream and on his breath made me want more. “Por favor..” I am prepared to beg, plead or use any other extreme measures I have up my sleeve if this will bring us closer. I cupped his cheek, yet again finding our son in him. Their eyes hold a familiar sense of depth and comfort. “I want to fix this, really. Again I’m sorry love, you must believe me.”

The teaser of his increase in pressure to my neck turned me on. I’m sure that was his intention and I have no objections. He’s never harmed me which is good because I love when he uses force. A little pain feels ten times better when sex and intimacy are around the corner.

“I know.” He huffed. I’m already wet with anticipation. He only added fuel to my fire. He overpowered me, giving off anger and animosity. I’ll take what I can for the time being, wanting what I’ve been deprived of. I can’t decide if I want this first time back into our fold to go by quickly because I’m so hungry or if I want to take my time.

“I want both.” I thought aloud.

Andre ripped through my clothes without any regard for common sense to treat my belongings with respect. “Of?” He uttered quietly.

We disrobed one another not caring that anyone could possibly walk by the room. We’re completely exposed and normally I’d be willing to keep watch for bystanders but tonight I don’t care much. Let them have a show to enjoy.

Tossing the belt he had on somewhere off to the side I rid him of his trousers, dominating the scene. “I want this to last but I’m desperate after five weeks.” I whined. I did not allow him to choose what pace he would rather stick with. “Give me what I want. Answers and attention.” Moving in for the kill I felt the ground lighten up from underneath my feet. I wrapped my legs around his midsection and locked my ankles to keep myself steady. He stumbled still teasing the clasp of my bra.

My body was freed from the confines of my brassiere, leaving me open for the taking. Andre granted my wish. He fucked the soul out of me up against the glass but tenderly and lovingly. We traded off with the power of getting the beauty of both worlds. What feels like angry, make-up sex carried on out to the hot tub that’s acquainted with the room. I gasped for new air, gripping his hip and palming his lower back to force him into me.

I needed a resting place for my head so I sought out the rim of the tub. My brief moment of desiring to speak ceased to exist as he touched two of my favorite spots. My outcry made me tearful and oh so sad. Sex only places a bandaid over our issues but a lovely bandaid it is. We carried on in the hot water and later transported our affairs back inside the room.

The time has come for us to use our words again. Tying my robe closed I lifted my hair up and out. With a heavy heart I studied Andre from several feet away.

“When did you begin to feel the shift?” He asked me, barely looking over his shoulder.

Clearing my throat I swiped my glass from the desk, taking a sip. “Sometime after Jo’s fifth or so doctor appointment. I think..”

Dre’s insincere snicker ruffled my feathers. He took a long drag of the blunt he’s been working for half an hour. Putting it out he sucked in a fresh wave of oxygen only to take his time blowing it back out. “So Ali is the root of your issues with me?”

“Let’s be adults about this. You know damn well that’s not what I’m getting at nor is that what I’m saying. Maybe it was the stress of waiting for all of the test results to come back..” my sentence ran off as did my feet. I walked myself across the room to look out onto the night sky. Finishing off my champagne I built up the courage to explain a selfish mistake I made so long ago. “I still feel guilty for my comment. I didn’t mean it then and I didn’t mean it now. The waiting and re-testing was backing me into such a dark place that I traded in hope for fear. That is no excuse and I have to live with my idiocy at that moment for the rest of my life.” Turning on my heels I zeroed out the space between us. I placed my hands upon his shoulders, molding to his shape wanting to ease the tension in his upper body. “But you were there. You didn’t give up on our son even while I had doubts and bombarded you with my sadness over the matter.”

Inching closer I captured his lips, entangling us to each other for round three. Speaking about our kids brings me back to consciousness. All of the wild sex that we’ve had since Jorden was born has surprisingly not created another child. This troubling and confusing separation has not hindered an inkling of romance. All that’s different is the lack of title.

“We’re supposed..to be talking..” he hummed. I fondled my way into his lap, going head first.

“Not right now we aren’t.” I denied. I’m in the mindset for a specialty cocktail I can’t put a price on. My skin began to heat up from under the robe. It’s my throat, mouth and hands that are the hottest points of me currently. I used my hands, feverishly wanting to bring him all the way up so I could stop and get him angry. His fingers ran through my hair finding the right coordinates to hold my head still. His body shuddered underneath mine as I ramped up my speed so he can feel like he’s in control of the moment. He’s never been allowed to dominate my pace when I’m pleasing him. I was very transparent in the beginning stages of our romantic relationship about why he can’t force me down or hold me still. In exchange we have worked out an arrangement to where he feels like he’s in control but he’s really not.

The overflow of saliva and the tiny bubbles running down over my fingers and wrists turned up my pride. It’s also the sweet melodic manner in which my name and God’s fills the air. I always honor him with his few moments of fame in thinking that I can’t handle his measurements. There are times when I doubt myself. Like the generous man that Andre is, he never comes short with complimenting how charming my tongue is. The hyper speed of his shaft and juevos sliding in and out my mouth brought on the most beautiful feeling. My scalp is tingling from the massage he’s giving me while I’m finishing the one I’m offering him.

His call out to the heavens is making me greedy. I’ll admit to it and I want him to know. Halting, I knelt before him and pushed him down, ultimately mounting him. Our mouths reunited in sync, no exceeding dominance displayed. My back touched down against the plush comforter, he removed my robe, and I used my hands and feet to disrobe him of his pants.

“Cuidarme, yo soy tuyo.” I begged. Our bodies meshed together resembling a fly getting caught in a Venus fly trap. My internal organs accommodated his endowment warmly. I saw darkness as he set himself up with the right momentum. “Ay Dios!” I called on our Heavenly Father several times over in the most disrespectful way. Tightening the grip I have on him I forced eye contact needing to face him head on.

His affirmation of how I’m making him feel calmed my nerves. “Making love to you always feels a step above incredible..” he told me once again.

Blissfully grinning from ear to ear I matched his strides, watching him react just the way I wanted him to. “Mm,” I hummed. “..te sientes mucho mejor.” I moaned heavily. The darkness took over again, shutting down any verbal conversation for the rest of this fight to the top of the mountain.

———— ————

Staring at the moon aligned with the stairs I rolled my eyes listening to Andre ramble. He’s been on a hot streak for what seems to be pushing eternity. In reality only a few minutes have lapsed.

“Can you please sit down? Your pacing is unsettling.” I advised him.

“I can’t believe you would even stoop so low to bring Jorden into our problems. I know the testing was hard on you but you can’t place the blame of our downfall on him.”

“I never said Jo was the source of our problems! All I said was that the outcome and the process itself brought me down to a place I had never been before. I have no reason to blame our children for the reason our relationship was severed and I never will. You’re taking my words and running with them trying to make me look like a shit mother and I’m not. I always put our kids first. The reason we’re apart is because of tu y yo! There are no other parties to blame except for us so don’t ever drag anyone into our shit. We made this mess together so we are responsible for cleaning it up!” Standing up to walk around I meddled in my hair only wanting to reflect.

There’s the fight about Gerrard’s initial arrival. That was the first time that Andre accused me of being unfaithful. He hurt me down to the core. I was already battling how to deal with the slander brought to my name and in my place of work. The pain from Gerrard’s doing and the assumption was double what I was expecting.

Exhaling through my nose I picked up my hair, rubbing my scalp. “Dígame, was Gerrard’s first appearance something that stuck around for you? Did you think about that day anytime afterward?” I asked him.

“Sometimes, yeah.” He confessed.

“Why did you do it? I have never understood why you felt the need to question me after our history. I don’t think I’ll ever understand. I’ve never once accused you of anything even at my lowest point so I’m just trying to put the puzzle pieces together here.” As I met his eye I put in a strong effort not to look angry.

Andre’s shoulders fell as he ran his hands over his head. “I just got scared. I had a moment of weakness and took it out on you. I was sorry then for the way I behaved and I’m sorry now. I will forever be sorry.”

“I know. That’s number one. Numbers two, three and so on. Gerrard coming around the second time, the psychos you once called family, Chris… There’s so much heavy shit in your past and in ours as a unit that keeps me up some nights.” Letting my arms fall I crossed them over my chest.

“Are you a-”

Stopping him short I held up my hand swiftly. “I am not angry. I am not sad. I don’t know what I am.”

My shoulders gained weight. I dropped my head to one side feeling my muscles loosen up.

“I have a feeling that I-my mistakes are a part of our downfall. Amongst other things now that I’m diving deep into our past.” He says.

“Que otras cosas? Dígame por favor.”

He claims that all of what I mentioned are the strongest points that broke the very foundation we’ve built. I deny it all. There’s got to be something else that we are missing.

“I owe you my life babe and I know that you hate hearing about my suicide attempt but it’s relevant. That moment in my life will forever be pertinent to many conversations that we share. That memory, despite how painful it is to both of us, plays a key role in why I am the way that I am today. I still don’t see what you see but I do know that I don’t want to lose you.” He resumed the massage on my shoulders, making me feel warm again.

“A little to the right please.” I suggested. He followed orders eliminating all tension in my upper back. “Mira, I don’t take pleasure in giving you the ring back. Deep down I just didn’t feel right wearing such a statement with the way I was feeling. The way that I’m still feeling. I’m not sure how long it will take us to get back to our old ways but I don’t want to lose you either.” I faced him sliding my hands up his chest. “I did not come here to argue and go back and forth. I want to get to the root of the problem hoping that we can find some middle ground and work our way back to normal.” I used him as a place to lay my head.

“Agreed.” He solemnly voiced.

#maree-ff #mareeff #short story #fiction #short reads

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wonderlandmind4 · 4 years

Text

Delicate Stages of Life: 27

Time Heist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC Ana Rios

Summary: Life in Wakanda is filled with love, laughs, some tears, all emotions, lazy days, goats, hot springs, a soul connection, and something dark that looms over Bucky’s and Ana’s domestic bliss…

Warnings: Language. Angst.

Words: 8005 k

A/N: (Do not read unless you’ve read Delicate Stages first) beautiful moodboard by @afewmarvelousthoughts and thank you for all your help and tears and yelling at me. (gif not mine) Sorry for the wait!

Fingers glide over a slick flat surface, ripples cascading outward. Eyes flutter open, vision filled with the hue of a dusty orange haze; a setting sun. Slowly, Ana sits up, hands stroking through the water that never dampens her skin. Pushing herself up, she turns, immediately spotting the little girl. As she walks towards her, footsteps silent in the pond, the girl meets her gaze. She doesn’t speak, just takes a step sideways, placing her small hands against her own chest. Curiosity propels Ana forward, moving closer to the girl, searching her brain to recall her name.

“Gamora,” Ana speaks with a hushed tone.

She stretches out her hand for the child to take. Ana has so many questions to ask her, sitting on the tip of her tongue. Gamora shakes her head, a rueful tilt to her mouth, eyes glossy. She keeps her hands over her chest, a faint glow emitting between her fingers.

“How can I help you?” Ana begs. What was her purpose of being here? Of her constantly waking up in the same spot, in the same world, for years now? “I want to help you.”

“You’re not here for me,” She whispers ominously.

Eyebrows knit together. “What do you mean?”

The child’s tiny smile falls from her lips. She moves one hand to press against the door behind her, holds out the other for Ana. When their fingers connect, a rush shoots through Ana’s body, suddenly she’s standing on the other side of the door. She blinks, the sensation rolling through her chest when she touched Gamora remains as she stares ahead.

Bucky, as in every dream, stands before her, the same little grin on his lips. “Annie.”

Ana immediately goes to him, her hands hovering over his face. She refrains from touching him just yet, not sure if he’ll fade away the second she does. The only time they were able to solidly feel each other was the night their daughter was born; she hasn’t been able to touch him since. She hasn’t been back in this world for months.

“Bucky,” His name spills on a choked sob, relief warming her body at the sight of his beautiful face. “Hi.”

Bucky raises his hand, barely brushing his fingers through her hair, light enough to send a shiver down her spine. Her heart sings with the ghost of his touch.

“I wish I could stay here with you,” Ana mumbles, copying his own gesture, her fingers grazing over his beard, hovering down to his chest. “I wish I could feel you.”

A solemn smile crooks his mouth. “I’m always with you. With Alex. She is so beautiful, Ana.”

Bucky saying their daughter’s name fills a part of her soul. It’s the same sensation she had when she first held their baby girl. Ana can’t resist any longer, pressing her hand firmly against his chest. She longs for him. She needs him, just needs to feel his body beneath her palm, if only briefly. Bucky tilts his head down, forehead resting against hers.

“I love you,” Ana weeps softly, beginning to feel him dematerialize.

Bucky cups her cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears staining her face. “Just because I’m not here, doesn’t mean my love for you has faded.”

She grips his vest desperately, praying, yearning to keep him together in front of her. With every passing second, his fingers become lighter, feathers dancing over her skin, her hand sinking into his chest. Ana quickly grabs his right wrist, turning her face to kiss his palm, dust settling on her tongue, grains caught in the imprints of her lips.

“Be careful, Annie Doll.” Bucky’s warning echoes distantly. His form dematerializing into the air.

She can’t question what he means, too focused on attempting to breathe as ash fills her lungs. Bucky’s hand crumbles away. Her soul once again ripped from her body as her hand closes around nothing.

Waking with a shuddering gasp, Ana jerks upward, gripping the nearest thing with one hand, clutching at her chest with the other. Awareness comes quickly; her lashes and cheeks are wet, chest heaving, her fingers dig into the textured fabric of the couch. She takes her hand away before she can burn through another piece of furniture. Calming herself, she wipes her face dry, taking several deep breaths.

“Ana?” A concerned Steve hovers over her. His solid grip on her shoulder grounding her. “You alright? You with us?”

It takes her a second to answer him with a jerky nod. Keenly aware of all electronics flickering and buzzing around her, energy stinging her skin, she presses her hand to her chest, ceasing her powers. The air weighs heavily with loss, anxious anticipation, the fragile underline of hope. Emotional energy radiates from every person in the room. Tony doesn’t take his eyes off of her, brows furrowed, his eyes intensely attentive.

“I-I-” She stutters through pants.

“Sad mama?” Alex’s little voice pipes up, a question she’s been asking much too frequently. As if the toddler can sense the emotions around her. She’s sliding off Natasha’s lap, hurrying over to Ana. “Don’t be sad.”

Gathering her daughter into her own lap, Ana gently reassures her, hugging her close, reveling in the feeling of serenity only her daughter can give. Alex seems to accept this, lounging back against her chest and fiddling with her wedding rings. Ana lifts her gaze to Steve’s, his own keen on her every expression.

“This has to work,” She stresses, not caring of the desperation in her tone. “It has too.”

Steve leans forward, eyes intense on hers. “It will.” Then his jaw shifts, muscles clenching. “Because I don’t know what to do if it doesn’t. But it will work.” He puts enough conviction in his voice to make Ana want to believe him. Believe in the possibility.

“Well,” Bruce chirps after a stretch of heavy silence. He claps his large hands together, the sound echoing through the living room. Alex startles slightly. “Let’s get started then!”

All but Ana exit the living room. Hiding her face in her daughter’s hair briefly, another hand squeezes her shoulder firmly. When she lifts her head, Tony peers down at her, silent question in his dark eyes. Ana reaches up to pat the back of his hand, reassuring him.

While Tony tinkers with making Quantum suits and Bruce and Scott pour over their research notes on anything to do with Quantum Physics, Ana heads to the hangar several floors up. Alex skips happily behind her, softly singing Bucky’s lullaby.

“Are you sure you don’t want someone going with you? Steve at least?” Ana frowns once she’s sitting in the pilots seat of the Quinjet. She notices her daughter reaching for something on the control board. “Jamie Alexandra, what did I say about touching that?”

Alex snatches her hand back, sending her mother a cheesy smile, widening her blue eyes. God, she looks so much like Bucky when Ana would catch him eating out of the Nutella jar. Natasha locks her bag in a cupboard, then fondly ruffles the toddler's hair.

“This is something I have to do myself,” She replies, voice resigned. “I’m the only one who has any chance of convincing him.”

“Just...be careful.”

They lock eyes. Ana isn’t talking about Natasha protecting herself from physical harm, rather than protecting her heart and what she may find. Ana sees recognition dawn in her eyes. She dips her head in response.

“He’s never judged me on my worst mistakes...or non mistakes. I’m not one to judge him either. He gave me a chance despite my past, this is his.”

Pushing her hand through her hair, Ana sighs, accepting her answer. “Let me know when you get back home. If it’s really bad, I can try to help.”

“Thanks, I will.” Natasha turns to Alex, picking her up from the copilot seat. “You little miss monster, stay out of trouble.” She pokes her belly making the little girl laugh.

“I go too?” Alex asks with her innocent voice.

“Next time,” Natasha promises, kissing her cheek.

Following Natasha’s departure, the week brings moments Ana wasn’t quite prepared for. Though watching Alex run around in the grass, squealing and laughing as she chases after Nebula just minutes after she lands, fills her heart with joy. Rhodey and Tony have their own little reunion as Ana hangs back, relishing in a rare content moment.

Natasha successfully arrives back three days later with Clint in tow. Darkened, angry energy thickens the air, the sensation shoots through Ana’s bones the second she walks in the living room. It makes her knees weak, nearly giving out beneath her and when she meets Clint’s gaze, he dips his head in shame. When she recovers, Ana offers her help with the lift of her hands. The emotions rolling off him stings her fingertips.

“I don’t deserve your help,” Clint mutters brokenly.

“That’s what Bucky told me once,” Ana counters softly.

“That was different.”

“Is it?”

Clint huffs. “Don’t need to waste your powers on me, Feisty Cuffs.”

The old nickname makes her crack a smile. “Fine, will you allow a hug then?”

He relents. It results in Ana attempting to at least calm him, which makes him scoff before he playfully pushes her back onto the couch. When Clint officially meets Alex, his mood lifts significantly. When the little curious toddler begins to trace her fingers over the tattoos covering his entire left arm, Clint’s eyes soften with an all too familiar haunted gaze Ana recognizes.

Just one day later brings Bruce and Rocket back with Thor. His aura is worse than Clint’s, worse than anyone Ana has ever worked with; including Bucky. The god’s chaotic storm of energy and emotions leaves her breathless, overcomes her, and she frantically grabs Steve’s shirt to keep her upright as she falls. He’s quick to catch her, quick to take her from the room as she gasps.

Only an hour passes before she tries again with her rings on, greeting Thor with a spontaneous hug. He smells of sweat and stale beer, his long stringy hair and beard are unkempt, but Ana hugs him as tight as she can. When she pulls back, she cups her hands along his cheeks. His eyes- one blue, one gold- fill with tears, every ounce of his aura black, broken, guilt-ridden. Ana tentatively uses her ability, a slow morph of transmutation.

“They hate me,” Thor mumbles nearly inaudible. Ana is inches away from him and she has to strain her ears.

She offers him a gentle smile. “No one hates you, Thor.”

“You hate me.”

“Never.”

His bottom lip trembles before he tilts forward, face pressed against her shoulder. Ana hugs him like she did Clint, patting his back. A giggle echoes down the hallway, Alex appearing seconds later with Tony, her bunny clutched in her little hands. Smiling, Ana taps Thor harder.

“Would you like to meet my daughter?”

Without fail, Alex brightens Thor’s face with a genuine grin. She introduces her BunBun to him, chattering away and asking to braid his hair like her mama does with hers. Ana swells with adoration and pride, realizing that anyone who has the honor of being in her daughter’s presence always seems to cheer up, their energies turn lighter whether they’re sad or not. Vaguely she wonders if it’s just Alex and her cute happy demeanor, or if she had passed some of her own powers down to her child.

When Thor pretends to fall back from a fake self-inflicted punch from the bunny, Alex laughs uncontrollably, little crinkles forming by her bright blue eyes. Ana doesn’t focus on the possibility of what her daughter may have inherited from her or Bucky, just enjoys the sight of her little girl doing more for this makeshift family than she will ever know.

Tony, Rocket, Nebula and Bruce work tirelessly on building a Quantum Tunnel during the next few days. It’s a time machine and Ana insists on calling it an advanced dolorian much to Tony’s annoyance and Steve’s amusement. Halfway through the building process, Alex wonders in, her childish curiosity taking over as she plops down right next to Tony. Ana finally catches up with her daughter, halting in her steps.

Tony hands Alex a wrench, helping the little girl lift the heavy tool. He proceeds to teach her how to tighten a few bolts, chatting with her as if she’s a grown adult, the toddler nodding along as if she understands. Steve watches the scene a few feet in front of him, meeting Ana’s gaze before he makes his way over to her.

“Ya know, Bucky loved science and technology,” Steve states, a distant gleam in his blue eyes. He suddenly chuckles. “He was kind of a nerd.”

A pang clenches through her heart, but Ana chooses to make this moment a happy one. “Yes he was,” She laughs. “It’s one of the main reasons he loved living in Wakanda.”

“She’s smart, Alex is. Really smart for her age.”

“I think she has more Bucky in her than me.”

Steve must pick up on the slight waver in her tone, for he wraps a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You ready for this?”

Sighing, Ana briefly rests her head against his chest. “I’m trying really hard not to get my hopes up, but yes. I am so ready for this.”

Clint offers to be the time traveling guinea pig after Scott nearly panics about doing it himself. The test run goes smoothly and the utter disbelief yet joyous expression on Clint’s face leaves every single one of them more optimistic than before. Ana feels the collective energy pick up, the grueling heartbreak, guilt, loneliness, the darkness that had a gravity which weighed them down is beginning to dissipate. It’s fragile, hope is fragile and one wrong move could snatch it all away, destroying any chance of bringing their loved ones back.

It’s what brings on a six hour brainstorming session the next day. Ana sits back against the wall of the conference room after she put Alex down for a nap. Being one of the only people, besides Scott, not to have some encounter with any of the stones, she decides to stay out of the conversation. Bruce reminds them of the limited Pym particles and how crucial each roundtrip is.

Nebula makes brief eye contact with her. Ana frowns at the meaningful look, until she abruptly remembers her fingers grazing over one of the stones on that damn gauntlet. Shaking her head subtly, Nebula looks away, focusing on Thor’s sorrowful rambling about the Reality Stone, or the Aether as Steve called it.

Tuning them out, Ana bites her lip, nervously tracing her collarbones with her fingers. She still has trouble recalling which stone she touched, if she did in fact touch it at all. Maybe it was her imagination and she has just been trying to justify where her dreams are coming from.

After Thor’s wobbly retelling of the Aether, and Rocket’s entire story of the Power stone on Morag and how he and the Guardians saved the galaxy from potentially being destroyed, Ana offers to order lunch. Really, she just needed a break from the stories and her own jumbled thoughts.

Once they finish eating, FRIDAY alerts Ana of a stirring toddler beginning to wake, when Nebula states her knowledge of the Soul stone. She mentions the planet named Vormir, just as Ana pushes herself off the chair she was lounging in.

“What is Vormir?” Natasha inquires, writing furiously in the notebook she hasn’t put down since they started.

“A dominion death,” Nebula answers ominously. “At the very center of celestial existence...it’s where Thanos murdered my sister, Gamora.”

Ana freezes midstep. That name, why does that name sound so familiar? A brief image of a little girl with beautiful green skin and markings around her cheeks abruptly flashes through her mind. Gamora. Gamora . Slowly she turns, facing Nebula.

“What?” Her voice comes out hushed. Nebula has never mentioned her sister before by name. “What was her name?”

“Gamora.”

“Oh my god,” Ana exhales, reaching out to grab the door frame for support. “Oh, my god, holy fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Clint sits up, eyes darting between the two women. “Did you know her?”

She fish mouths several times, trying to make sense of the connection she just put together. It couldn’t be. How is that possible? Ana shakes her head in disbelief, remembering that horrid day in Wakanda once more.

“My-my dreams…” Ana begins breathlessly, her heart racing. “I-I touched a stone. Nebula, the stone I touched...I think it was- oh my god . I think it was the Soul Stone.”

Nebulas tenses. “Are you positive it was-”

“Wait,” Steve interrupts. “You touched a stone!? When did you touch a stone?”

Ana glances at him. “In Wakanda...after you got hit. I tried attacking Thanos. I tried pulling his life energy out but he was about to use the stones on me. I-I grabbed the gauntlet, attempted to take the energy from the stones instead and my hand slipped. I stole energy from the Soul Stone !”

“Pause, think about this,” Tony cuts in, rubbing his temple. “How can you be sure?”

“My dreams!” Ana explains exasperated. Tony raises his eyebrows, confusion coloring his face. Right, he doesn’t know about her dreams. She sighs heavily, moving to sit in the same chair again.

“I’ve been having these dreams for the past three years,” She informs him. “They’re not normal dreams, it feels real, always feels so real, as if I’m actually there. Usually it’s the same with an orange sky, like a sunset. I wake up in a pond of water but I’m never wet. I always see this little girl before I-” Ana clears her throat, pressing her hand to her chest. “Before I see Bucky. I see him every time and every time I try to touch him he just...he fades into ash.”

Ana’s hands are trembling and she’s grateful she’s sitting down, for her legs feel like jello. “But, I see this little girl, this child right before then. I kept asking who she was, where we were. All she told me was that she was trapped. Until the night Alex was born.”

“You nearly died,” Natasha whispers, eyes wide as she remembers. “Your heart stopped.”

“I think that’s when it happened,” Ana continues. “When I passed out, I was back in that world. Like I was physically there! I spoke with her again, she said her name was Gamora. And Bucky. I- I could touch him. I was able to touch him without him instantly crumbling. That hadn’t happened before. He told me-”

She tilts her head, mind falling back into the memory, the feel of Bucky’s cool touch lingering on her cheek. The warmth of his lips pressing against hers. She shakes her head. “He told me it wasn’t my world, and he knew Alex was a girl before I did. I touched Gamora, I touched Bucky. He knew...they both knew.”

Blinking herself back, Ana meets Nebula’s shocked face. “Oh, my god, it’s real. That place, that world. It’s real. I think it’s some sort of Soul World. Call me fucking crazy, but I think maybe their souls are trapped .”

“You’re right,” Rocket pipes up after a long stretch of stunned silence. “It does sound fucking crazy. But, not impossible?”

“I’m with build-a-bear on this one,” Tony inputs. He’s been staring intently at her since she started talking. “You have to be absolutely sure about this, kid.”

“I am, Tony! Hear me out,” Ana urges. “Before Bucky and I got married, I connected our energies. Basically, I connected our soul energies. I touched the Soul stone, which I’m assuming I contracted some amount of that energy as well. Nebula, you said Thanos-

“He killed my sister there.”

She dips her head in sympathy for Nebula. “It makes sense...her soul being trapped within it. It makes sense why I keep seeing Bucky there, because to do what he did, Thanos would need to take away souls as well with the stone. Every stone had its own purpose.”

“Call me crazy too, but what you’re saying makes sense,” Clint shrugs. He looks up at Steve, who nods in confirmation.

“So, what does it all mean?” Scott questions, scratching his head.

“Mrs. Barnes,” FRIDAY’s voice cuts through the room. “Your daughter is now wide awake. As I have sensed the importance of your meeting, I have opted to play her favorite movie for now. She is currently content to view it safely on your bed.”

“Thank you, FRIDAY, I’ll be right there,” Ana responds, rubbing her eyes. She stands up, steadying herself to make sure her legs have stopped shaking. “It means, Scott, I think you’re right about this time heist. I think this might actually, truly work. Their souls are trapped and if we can reserve it-”

“You can’t just bring a body back, it’s soul needs to be brought back too,” Bruce adds on, excitement in his voice.

“Exactly! I hope...but yes,” Ana says. “We can talk about this later. I have to get Alex before she decides to get into the nutella jar by herself.”

Ana makes it to her room before she allows herself a moment to breathe. Resting her forehead against her door, she counts her breathing, attempting to settle her heart, attempting to tamper down her building hope. Because if she hopes too much and reversing what Thanos did doesn’t work, it will crush her. She doesn’t think she’ll survive a second round of failure.

The brainstorming session finally comes to an end, everyone exhausted by dinner time. Too tired to cook, Tony orders pizza. Alex is giggling uncontrollably as she tries stealing one of Thor’s pieces while he dramatically catches her doing it. Ana has barely touched her food, her mind reeling over the revelation she had earlier.

Had she been dreaming of a Soul World this whole time? Was that what the door was for? The entrance of said world, but then why was Gamroa not on the other side? Did Ana truly die for a few moments the night of her daughter’s birth? Had she entered that world, and that’s why she could physically touch Bucky? Was that why Bucky was so adamant about her leaving?

“I fear you may be here permanently if you don’t leave soon.”

Did he mean the longer she stayed, the closer to death she really was? Her soul has been reaching out to his for the past three years. Bucky had been calling her name from that world for three years. Bucky’s soul has been watching over her from that world.

“You upset about my choice of pizza? I’m offended.” Tony’s voice pulls Ana out of her head. He sits next to her, purposely pressing the side of his body to hers.

“Hmm?”

“You haven’t touched your food.”

“Oh. I’m not very hungry,” She shrugs.

Tony appraises her, peering over the top of his glasses. “You’ve always been more powerful than you let on.”

“Pulling energy from an Infinity Stone doesn’t mean I’m powerful to begin with.”

“The fact that you were able to touch a stone without it killing you says the opposite. But I was talking about soul connecting.”

Picking the label off her beer bottle, Ana shrugs. “Bucky and I were connected long before that.”

“You’re downplaying your abilities, you have been for years, Ana. You don’t think I kept tabs on your energy readings since your brother’s funeral? The power knocked out within a ten mile radius. FRIDAY alerted me three years ago of an incident, your readings were off the charts, nearly reaching Thor’s level. Scarred the lawn I see.”

A sickening curl wraps around her stomach at the mention of her brother. Ana pushes her plate away further. Tony keeping up on her ability levels wasn’t a secret, the fact that he knew about her outburst was though; Pepper or Steve must have told him how it happened. Tearing off the beer label, she crumbles it, dropping it on the table.

“I don’t believe that,” Ana scoffs. She takes a long swig of her beer just to avoid the intensity in his eyes.

Tony hums, picking up her discarding pizza. “Regardless, I think you always had connections with soul energy, being an Empathic Energy Alchemist and all. Touching an Infinity Stone amped it up by thousands, connected you to a world on a different existential plane. It’s solid proof, and I gotta tell you, hearing that makes me feel better.”

“What?” She blinks at him as he takes a big bite. “Tony-”

He holds a finger up while he finishes chewing. Ana glares until he’s done, then steals her beer to take a drink. “I know the time heist will work, your confession only solidified it.”

“Glad to be a help, I guess.” She deadpans, snatching the bottle back.

His expression abruptly turns serious, lowering his head closer to hers. “You listen to me, kid. I know exactly how powerful you are. I’ve known you for 14 years. I know, I’ve seen how deeply emotions and energy affects you, it either debilitates you or you dangerously absorb it. When this happens, if this works and we bring everyone we lost back, it will affect you. I need you to be prepared. I need you to be ready to feel the world. You have to be prepared to, not just feel Barnes coming back, but everyone.”

The severity of Tony’s tone, the way his gaze vehemently holds hers, causes Ana to read between his lines.

“Tony,” Ana begins gravely. “Are you implying I could get hurt?”

“I’m simply warning you to be careful. I can’t predict if something bad will happen or not, but if it does, I’m asking you to prepare yourself. Don’t hold anything back, but please don’t take on that energy if it’s too much for us to handle.”

“Too much to handle?”

“According to the Jolly Green Giant over there, the stones have enough gamma radiation to light up a continent. I’m more worried about what that could potentially do to you. Reversing what Thanos did won’t be a success if I lose you in the process.”

His words mull over her brain for several seconds. “Are you asking me not to help?”

He hesitates. Tony takes off his glasses with a forlorn sigh. It’s in that moment Ana sees how the stress of the past weeks affected him, how exhausted he truly is. How his anxiety is barely rolling off him, tampering his own emotions down for her sake. Ana places her hand on his shoulder.

Tony sighs again before he answers, cupping her cheek. “Yes, I am. Just worry about yourself, for your daughter’s sake.”

Ana moves her attention away from his face, spotting Alex sitting next to Steve at the table. The two year old is attempting to eat a full slice, holding the pizza up and making a mess of herself, tomato sauce staining her little cheeks. Alex rips off a bite, chewing triumphantly and allows Steve to help her put the slice back on her plate. He’s trying not to laugh, due to the fighting grin on his face as he hands over her sippy cup. Ana’s whole world is in the bright blue eyes of her little girl.

“Okay,” She agrees belatedly, eyes sliding back to Tony. “Okay. I promise I won’t actively try to help.”

“And there is it, that stubbornness I’ve missed so much” He quips, dropping his hand and knocking hers off his shoulder. “And don’t think I didn’t know what you were doing just now either. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Laughing, Ana defends herself. “I honestly wasn’t trying to. You don’t hide your anxiety from me as well as you think you do. I can’t help it if I try to calm you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Eat your dinner, pain in my ass.” He ruffles her hair as he stands.

“Favorite pain in your ass, you mean.”

Tony steals her beer in retaliation.

It’s a Friday morning when the team walks in the hangar wearing the Quantum suits Tony made. Ana had been fussing with Alex’s hair the entire time everyone else got dressed, trying to quell her anxiety. Today is the day the Time Heist will be executed, hopefully without flaw. Keeping her fingers busy as she braids her daughter’s hair helped, just barely.

Upon agreement not to help where she didn’t have to, much to Ana’s displeasure, she’s chosen to stay behind. Bruce went over the panel system for the portal with her the day before, and runs through it one more time. The system is synced up to their time travel watches; all Ana has to do is press a button to activate it. She’s connected to their coms in case of an emergency and has to pull anyone back before their two minutes are up.

Natasha comes over to pick Alex up, complimenting her hair. “Look at this pretty braid! Did you do that to match your Auntie Nat?”

Alex nods enthusiastically. “Mommy did it!”

“Your mother did mine too,” Natasha pulls her French braid over her shoulder, touching the tail end of it to Alex’s braid.

“Yeah, after you couldn’t make up your mind,” Ana laughs. “I was halfway through pigtails.”

“When have I ever worn pigtails?” She scoffs.

“You asked for them!”

Natasha winks in good measure, hip checking Ana. She fondly rolls her eyes, handing Nat the time watch from the case Tony kept them in.

“I wanna go.” Alex pouts, pulling Nat’s face and attention back on her.

“You gotta stay here this time, little monster. But I’ll be right back and I promise I’ll play with you.”

“Otay,” The little girl sighs sadly. Natasha boops her on the nose then kisses her cheek. “Auntie Nebla!”

Alex launches herself into Nebula’s arm as she passes by, the woman with reflexes quicker than Steve’s catches her. Ana breathes a sigh of relief, shaking her head as she looks up. Your daughter, Bucky , she thinks. She swears she hears a phantom chuckle.

“I wish she’d stop doing that,” Ana groans.

“Takes after her father. I hear super soldiers like jumping off things,” Natasha teases.

“Ha, ha, funny,” Steve shoots at her as he makes his way over.

“Be careful, both you of,” Ana pleads, pulling Nat in for a hug. “You and Clint watch each other’s backs, got it?”

“We always do,” Natasha squeezes her tightly before letting go. “It’ll be the quickest two minutes ever.”

“Tash, lets sync up,” Clint says, pulling her away, not before handing the pot of coffee from the kitchen to Ana and winks.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do with an empty pot, Barton!?” She calls after them.

“Fill it for when I get back!”

“I swear, this group of people.”

Steve shrugs, a smile teasing his lips briefly. “Hey, I know you’re nervous, but it’ll be quick on this side. We know what to do.”

“I know you do,” Ana responds, reaching out for his hand and squeezing. “Doesn't mean you can’t be extra cautious.”

He nods, returning a tight grip before taking his own watch from her. Ana passes the rest out to the team, each bidding a short “see ya later”. Nebula reluctantly hands Alex back, tenderly smoothing back any frizzled hair.

“We’ll be back shortly,” Nebula states, her eyes gleaming with guilt. “Then we can undo what my father has done. I hope assisting in this will be the greatest achievement I’ve done.”

“I have no doubts.” Ana expresses firmly.

“Alright, chop chop, we’re literally on a time crunch,” Tony snarks, pushing Nebula along.

“Rude,” Ana snips, knocking his hand away when he tries to ruffle her head.

Tony smirks then beckons her onto the platform with them. Taking Alex with her, Ana climbs the few steps, standing between Thor and Scott. The antsy, nervousness of their mission settles over her, making Ana roll her shoulders to release the tension in her muscles. Alex gently pats her hand on her mother’s cheeks.

Meeting his eyes across the circle, Tony nods at Ana. He puts his hand forward, curling his fingers into a fist, shrugs one shoulder. Steve follows, as does the rest of the team, watches all matching up to their jump points. Thor nudges Ana, shooting her a goofy smile as he grabs her arm. Taking the hint, she puts her own fist in front of her. Alex suddenly leans forward, trying to mimic them, causing a round of soft chuckles. All at once, they drop their arms back to their sides.

“Three years ago we lost,” Steve speaks up, determination laced in his tone. “All of us. We lost friends, we lost family, loved ones. We lost a part of ourselves. Today we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams, you know your missions. Get the stones, get them back. One round trip each, no mistakes no do overs. Most of us are going somewhere we know, that doesn’t mean you should know what to expect. Be careful, look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives and we’re going to win.” He suddenly meets Ana’s gaze, tilts his head down slightly, before looking over at Tony. “Whatever it takes. Good luck.”

Ana has to take a deep breath to settle her nerves, her palms sweating and she has to readjust Alex in her arms. The toddler waves, earning ones in return, even cracking a few smiles on otherwise stern faces. Rocket offers his fist to the little girl, who eagerly bumps her fist against his. Ana steps off and in front of the control panel. This is happening.

“Ready?” She checks, scanning the dials for the fifth time in front of her. “On my count. In three, two-” She swears a collective steady inhale happens right before.

“See ya in a minute,” Natasha quips with her charming smile.

“One.”

Ana nearly slams her hand on the button. The machine moves and shifts panels into place, helmets of everyone’s suits coming up to protect them. The panels rotate before spanning out and with a quick flash, they’re gone.

“Magic!” Alex giggles, clapping her hands.

If it weren’t for her excitable daughter, Ana would be crippled with worry. Instead, she claps with her, keeping her eye on the timer. Longest two minutes of her entire life.

She puts Alex down, shaking out her arms and wiping her hands on her jeans. No words come through her ear piece, which Ana takes as a good sign. She keeps her daughter entertained for the next minute and a half by pretending to search for her stuffed bunny, checking under the panel desk and her own shoe. Finally, only thirty seconds remain.

“Hey, little Bean, want to see your aunties and uncles come back?” Ana questions airily, keeping her tone happy.

“Yes!” Alex shouts, almost running up to the platform. Ana halts her.

“Wait! You have to stay right here, okay? Where it’s safe.”

She nods, moving back to the spot Ana points to, right next to the control panel. Alex bounces on her toes, eagerly anticipating the return of the team by her form of “magic”. Moving back to the panel, Ana hovers her hand over the return button, eyes keen as the seconds tick down. When five seconds hit, she inhales deeply, hoping everyone succeeds.

3...2...1.

The moment she hits the button, everyone reappears, some staggering behind a split second behind. The panels rotate with their arrival, relief weighing in Ana’s bones. Alex holds up her arms, a silent plea to be picked up and brought to the platform. Ana is about to do just that, when an ominous energy makes her tense. This new feeling, it’s foreign, dangerous, threatening. She quickly scans the platform, her eyes halting on Nebula.

Then, a heart wrenching grief twists sharply throughout her body, punching through her gut. Ana presses her hands against her chest. Shivers run her blood cold, the feeling eerily familiar to the day everyone vanished.

“Mama?” Alex whines softly, tilting her head. Ana clumsily pats her little cheek, her eyes moving from Nebula to the empty space next to Clint. Her heart skips a beat.

“Did we get them all?” Bruce questions hurriedly.

Rhodes holds up a silver orb. “Are you telling me this actually worked?” He sounds ecstatic.

Clint drops to his knees, head tucked to his chest, fists clenched and shaking. Ana cautiously moves forward, hands trembling. The air of loss stings her skin, and she understands, she figured it out, but she can’t voice it just yet. She needs confirmation; maybe, just maybe Natasha is running behind.

“Clint,” Ana chokes outs. “W-where’s Nat?”

The haunted, broken look in his eyes as he slowly meets her gaze, the tears staining his face, is all the answer needed. He looks to Steve then, failure pouring from his body despite the stone clutched in his hand.

Clear blue skies mock the heaviness in the air. A gentle breeze brushes over Ana’s skin though she hardly feels it. Her mind is oddly blank while she peers over the lake, sitting on the edge of the dock, fingers digging into the wood. The numbness beginning at her fingertip snakes its way deep into her chest.

Natasha is gone. Her best friend is gone. Her friend who always felt more like her sister, gone. Natasha had just been standing on that platform. Her trademark little smirk and excitement in her green eyes, and two minutes later, she was gone. The spot where she should have returned empty, cold. She had just been there .

“Do we know if she had any family?” Tony inquires solemnly.

Steve clears his throat. “Yeah,” his voice cracks. “Us.”

It didn’t take long for Ana to gently coax Clint off the platform, leading him back through the compound. He hadn’t said a word since returning, not after they changed out of their tactile clothes, not when Ana attempted to offer him a glass of water. Didn’t acknowledge a single one of them until he stood and made his way to the docks in the back. Bruce went after him, quickly followed by Steve, Ana, Tony and Thor. Now, she swallows thickly at Steve’s answer, gritting her teeth as her eyes begin to prickle. Her body still feels numb.

“What was that?” Thor demands behind her.

“I just asked him a question.” Tony replies, a hard edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re acting like she’s dead,” Thor rambles. “Why are you acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones we can get her back, right Cap? So stop this shit! We’re the fucking Avengers, get it together!”

Ana dips her head as the voices grow louder behind her.

“We can’t get her back,” Clint finally breaks his grieving silence. “It can’t be undone. It can’t.”

Thor chuckles humorlessly. “No offense, but you are a very earthly being. This is space magic we’re talking about.”

“I know I’m out way outside of my pay grade here, but she’s still not here is she!?”

“That’s my point!”

“It can’t be undone.” Clint reiterates. “Or, that’s at least what the red floating guy had to say. Okay, so maybe you should go talk to him! Go grab your hammer and you go fly and talk to him!”

The painful guttural in his voice makes Ana flinch, a tear escaping as she looks over her shoulder. Clint catches her gaze, his own eyes dry now, but the guilt, the heartbreak shines through.

“It was supposed to me.” He chokes out, turning away. “She sacrificed her life for that goddamn stone, she bet her life on it!”

Bruce suddenly rips a bench from it’s bolts off the dock, aggressively throwing it across the lake. Ana watches land on the other side of the bank. Her fingers curled around the dock glow dimly, the wood singes for a moment before she reels in her powers. Flexing her fingers, the glow fades.

“She’s not coming back,” Bruce states. “We have to make it worth it. We have too.”

“We will.” Steve promises.

The quiet that stretches between them is long, heavy, fragile. Ana finally stands at one point, finally gathering Clint against her for a hug. He reluctantly returns it, face hidden in her hair. She reaches her hand out to Thor, transferring a bit of her own energy to him, whatever positivity she can scrape from the bottom of her own metaphorical barrel despite her own heart shattering with the death of Natasha.

“You know,” She tentatively speaks up. “Alex has been wanting to play with your hair.” She tells Thor. “I bet if you go back in and ask she’d be delighted.”

Sniffing, he offers a watery smile. “I shall do that then.”

Clint detangles himself from Ana’s arms, cupping both sides of her face. He tenderly kisses her forehead, lingering for a split second; conveying his brokenness, his grief, his guilt, his gratitude in knowing what she was subtly attempting to do.

“Don’t go wasting your energy on me now, you hear me?” He murmurs, his green-blue eyes boring into hers. “Take care of yourself, don’t worry about us.”

Frowning, Ana remains silent. Arguing against it would result in defeat. “Okay. I’ll try.”

Another tear catches in his eyelashes before escaping. Clint drops his hand and follows behind Thor without another word. Tony silently checks on her, Ana falling into a tight hug against his chest when he opens his arms. They hold onto each other longer than necessary, silent tears soak into his shirt as her body trembles.

“Steve?” Ana whispers, after she and Tony broke apart.

Immediately he shakes his head, dropping his face in his hands, a broken sob muffled in his palms. Ana rubs his back in soothing circles, the only comfort she can offer him for now. A big, warm hand settles carefully on her shoulder, her hand lifting to rest against Bruce’s knuckles. When she peers up at him, he jerks his head toward the compound, a nonverbal sign to allow Steve some alone time.

She agrees, but not before affectionately brushing back a stray piece of Steve’s hair, and gently patting the top of his head. He catches her elbow in a soft squeeze and turns. Ana opens her arms before he leans into her briefly, giving her a quick sort of hug. The bruise on his cheek has darkened, standing stark against his tears. She releases him, offering a rueful half smile before she walks away.

They’re back in the conference room two hours later, everyone minus Thor, Clint and Nebula. Heads are either hidden in folded arms on the desks or tilting back against the chairs. Ana has opted to wear her rings to stabilize the turmoil of energy surrounding her, especially after Alex kept asking where her auntie Nat was.

Having to explain to the toddler that her favorite person had died nearly broke Ana. Her daughter is a curious little thing, oddly attentive and smart for her age. Alex began asking where Bucky was not too long ago, leaving her mother to say that her father had always been watching over her, gone but never forgotten. In a place they couldn’t reach. Ana tried going along those lines of explaining Natasha’s absence, and how she wouldn’t be coming back.

“But, she pwomised to play with me,” Her little sad voice with her pouting lips made Ana tear up.

“I know, baby girl,” Ana had consoled, gently kissing her forehead. “I know, Jamie. I’m so sorry, love.”

Not even twenty minutes later, Alex asked again. Tony had stepped in to help Ana, breaking it down in a simpler manner. Later he told her he had to explain to Morgan when she was three why the little field mouse she always fed had suddenly died. Ana was grateful for the help and another parental experience.

True to her word earlier, Alex had been distracted by Thor offering his hair up for play. The odd thing was right before that, when the little girl ran past Nebula, she flinched, backed away and ran to Rhodes. Another strange incident occurred before they gathered in the conference room; Alex had refused to be held by the other woman.

The weird moments she mulls over get interrupted in her mind when she abruptly recalls what Steve had said on the dock in response to Bruce.

“How?” Ana whispers.

“How what?” Tony counters picking his head up. His eyes are bloodshot.

Whoops. She didn’t mean to say that out loud, but since she did she continues.

“How are we going to make it worth it?” She clarifies. “You guys lost the tesseract. You just said that earlier, and your trip to the 70’s was a bust. How do we make sure Nat didn’t die for nothing if we can’t even figure out another place to get the Space Stone?”

The quick look shared between Steve and Tony does not go unnoticed by her.

“I grabbed enough Pym particles for a roundtrip for two, but that’s it. Wherever it is would be the final chance to retrieve it. Absolutely no room for mistakes.”

The snark of Steve saying that the first time and failing dies on her tongue. Instead, Ana huffs, narrowing her eyes. She stands, moving closer to the screen projecting where the stones have been spotted in their timeline.

“Well, anyone have any ideas then?”

Steve heaves a weighted sigh behind her. “Italy.”

The second the word reluctantly leaves his mouth is when it clicks in her brain. Italy. Italy. Azzano, Italy.

“194-”

“I’m going.” Ana demands, spinning around just as Steve finishes the year.

“-Three. No.”

“I. Am. Going.”

“Absolutely not.” Both Steve and Tony refuse.

She shoots Tony a heated glare before focusing back on Steve. “Funny, because the way I see it, you both failed at getting the Space Stone, twice. I have yet to give it a try-”

“It’s too dangerous!” Steve snaps, slicing his hand through the air as he stands. “This is World War Two territory, Ana. Not some-”

“Choose your words very carefully, Cap .” Ana seethes, stepping closer. “You don’t think I know the possibility of what might happen, of who I might run into? I know the risks. Fuck dangerous. This is bigger than that!”

The flaring of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw, the hands on his hips, Steve is livid. The energy of his emotions radiates off his skin, a turmoil of fear, logic and anger. He exhales slowly.

“Think about Alex,” Steve attempts, his tone forcibly calm.

“I am !” Ana retaliates fiercely. “I always am. This is too big of an opportunity. We have the chance to bring him- to bring everyone back, and cowering in fear from that time frame isn’t going to do that. Now-” She stabs a finger in his chest. “ You aren’t going alone. You need help. I am going.”

Silence settles with tension between them. Steve looks helpless, but admits defeat by hanging his head, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“She’s got a point,” Rocket supplies. “Fresh pair of eyes. Powers would be useful in a tight situation.”

Ana preens with a saccharine smile.

“Fine.” Steve grumbles. “Tony, how quickly can you make her a suit?”

Tony puckers his lips like he’s sucking on something sour. This was probably exactly what he meant when he was asking Ana not to help or put herself in a situation she shouldn’t. He narrows his eyes at her before breaking his stern expression and huffing a laugh.

“Already made.”

“Perfect!” Ana claps her hands once. “It’s settled. Italy, 1943.”

*******************************************************************************************

AN: Again, sorry for the wait. I struggled so hard writing this chapter, but i am very excited for the next chapter, which I promise will be updated much sooner. Thank you for sticking with me. Thank you for reading and thank you for your patience! Sorry I suck. Also, if you’re American.... VOTE ON NOVEMBER 3RD. Vote. Vote. Vote. Drabbles: Twenty-Six Drabbles: Twenty-Eight

Tags: @thecreatiivecorner @buckyland @stressedasalways @watchoutforfrostbite @justreadingfics @keldachick @eurynome827 @elatedmarvel @shesalatesh @paintedgreywriting @buckaroo-blue @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin @crushedbyhyperbole @jaxthebookworm @gamorazenn @happinessisaloadedgun @je-suis-prest-rachel @thiccstuxky

#delicate stages drabbles #delicate stages of life #bucky barnes x ana rios #bucky barnes x ofc #steve rogers x platonic!ofc #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes fanfiction

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angelsswirl · 3 years

Text

Been Through

Chapter 6: What have I become

Notes: Sorry these last few posts have been ugly. I'm on mobile atm. But I'll be sure to fix them up on desktop sooner or later.

All that shame and all that danger. I'm hopin' that my love will keep you up tonight.

Things were different with Jennie than they were with Lisa. And sure, that makes sense. They're two different people.

But it went deeper than that.

With Jennie...you were in control, and you were never tricked into losing it. It was one of the reasons your relationship lasted so long in the first place. With Jennie...everything was easy. Palatable, if you will.

Take, right now, for example.

You were sitting in a restaurant with Jennie. She had asked you out the day she stalked you into that bar. Then she had to do it again the next day when you weren't nearly as drunk because you had promptly forgot she asked you anything at all.

You were mildly put off by the fanciness of the restaurant, but that wasn't cutting into the insurmountable control you had over everything that was happening.

You took a sip of your merlot and frowned. You weren't poor by any means of the word, but you definitely preferred boxed wine over the bottled stuff. You think it has less to do with flavor and more to do with practicality. There's just something satisfying about the novelty of having to use a spigot to access your wine, reminds you of using the water fountain in highschool. Or that water dispenser that was in the break room of your boring office job you had in korea right before you met the girls.

So, yes. With Jennie...things were simple and easy and calm and collected and controllable.

And then there was Lisa.

Lisa.

With Lisa...you experienced the very opposite of everything you experienced with Jennie. It replicated the start of your "relationship". A "relationship" that was born out of loneliness and drunken necessity and maybe even a tiny bit of manipulation. With Lisa...everything was hard. Unpalatable, if you will.

Take, four years ago, for example.

You were sitting in a crowded bar with Lisa, drinking soju like it was your lifeblood. She had brought you there after seeing how broken up you were over your and Jennie's break up. You're pretty sure she didn't have any intention of sleeping with you. She just didn't like seeing you sad.

You were extremely put off by your own whilrwind of conflicting emotions and drunkenness. And your control had crumbled like a sandcastle as soon as Lisa put her hand on your lower back to guide you into the bar.

You had slammed a shot of soju and grimaced. To you, that stuff tasted like how rubbing alcohol smelled. Lisa met you shot for shot. You're still astonished to this day how she never got recognized, or at least no one had voiced that they recognized her. You preferred straight up bourbon to soju. You're not sure why, but hey, too each their own. Something about your conflicting emotions and drinking half your body weight in alcohol had caused you to throw yourself into an early heat. It wasn't due for at least another month. And your ability to make good choices had been turned off hours prior. Lisa was right there and ready and willing and what were you supposed to do? Not let her fuck you into the mattress of some hotel? That simply wasn't an option at the time.

So, yes. With Lisa...things were complicated and hard and conflicting and out of hand and uncontrollable. And, oh God do you hate that.

But enough about Lisa. You're own a date with Jennie. So, enjoy your date with Jennie.

~~~

"You know, when my assistant said I had a meeting, I thought he meant with one of my bosses or clients." You said as she sat in your desk chair.

"I am a client." Chaeyoung pouted. Jisoo who was seated next to her nodded in agreement.

"No, you're a friend."

Chaeyoung's face grew mischievous. It was then that you noticed the notepads and ink pens, her and Jisoo were brandishing.

"Speaking of friends...how'd your date go with Jennie?" As if to emphasize what they were doing, the two clicked their pens in sinc.

"Oh no. I'm not talking about that with you too. This was supposed to be a meeting about the book."

"But this is about the book." Jisoo whined.

"How?!"

"We still need to write the happy ending! And this is apart of that."

"Why don't you write about one of your relationships instead of mine?"

"That's not nearly as entertaining." Chaeyoung said as if it was obvious.

"So, what if I told you that after the date she kissed me goodnight and it was so good I couldn't resist bringing her up to my room for some more fun. And then she slept over and we did it all over again in the morning."

Chaeyoung and Jisoo scribbled in their notes frantically.

"Yes! This is great, keep going."

"Oh. I can't."

"What?"

"I just made all that up. None of that happened."

"What the fuck, Y/N?"

"You wanted a story. So, I gave you one."

Jisoo glared at you while Chaeyoung pouted again.

"You're a liar." Jisoo exclaimed. You think she might snap her pen in half with how hard she's gripping it.

You rolled your eyes, "No. I'm not. I was just messing with you."

"You kind of are tho." Chaeyoung said almost as an afterthought.

"What are you talking about?"

"Okay, well maybe you're not a liar, but you do lie. You told me that you didn't know who Lily's other parent was, but I think you at least have an inkling. You want all of us to believe you don't love one of them over the other, but you most definitely do. I can hear it in the inflection in your voice when you talk about them. You want us to believe that this isn't about who you love, that this is about the "better fit", that this isn't about you, but it is. This is about who you're in love with. It's only one of them. You're kind of obvious. This has nothing to do with who's the better fit. You wouldn't have fallen in love with her if she wasn't. This is all about you, Y/N. Not your daughter, at least, not directly. You make decisions on autopilot when it comes to her because you're a mom. It's what moms do. This is about you and how over the last four years, you've convinced yourself that you're unlovable." Chaeyoung shrugged as she finished her monologue.

Jisoo seemed to be mulling over her member's words just as much as you were. You could practically see the conclusion jumping playing on her face.

"Oh my God! You're in love with-"

"Would you shut the flying fuck up?!" You shouted. You brushed your hands over your face harshly.

"So, maybe you're right. Maybe I do have an inkling. I'm her fucking mother of course I have an inkling. I fucking see her everyday. I know her personality. I know her likes and dislikes. And she might look like me, but you she sure as hell doesn't act like me. Yes, I want you to believe all those things. Because that's what makes all of this easier. I've never been more stressed out in my life. Not even while I was pregnant. Or that first year after Lily was born. And yes I feel unlovable. I feel yucky and gross. I feel like a whore. You don't get it. I would sit in my apartment, with my feet propped up on the table dreaming about how I wished I could rub them because they hurt so damn bad. But my giant whale of a stomach was in my way because I was growing a fucking person inside of me. You think I've been single these last four years on purpose? You think I don't want my daughter to have a normal fucking family? NO ONE WANTS TO DATE A SINGLE MOM!...Did they even try to contact me after I left?" You stood from your chair, a mistake because your legs felt like jello. But you remained standing even when you realized your makeup was melting from the warm tears you were pouring over it.

"You blocked their numbers-"

"But I didn't block yours."

Chaeyoung promptly closed her mouth.

"Or Jisoo's."

"Y/N-"

"Nope. Just let me yell at you, there's blood on your hands too," You took a deep shuddering breath before speaking again, "Not. One. Call. From any of you. No one even tried. No one called me, or my mom, or my sisters."

"And I know what you're thinking. I obviously didn't want to be found or contacted. But maybe, just maybe, I needed to be."

"After Lily was born, I got diagnosed with postpartum depression. I would look down at the beautiful baby girl in my arms and feel absolutely nothing. I would be confused as to what I was doing with a child. One day, I'm not sure how, we'll call it "mother's will", I snapped out of it. I went to a therapist and got my life back. It was just her and I agaisnt the world. And I didn't want it to be. It was unfair to Lily to only have to rely on me. I dated anyone I could. Alphas, beta, even other omegas. And nothing stuck. So, excuse me if I feel unlovable. But that's just because I am. And yeah, maybe I am head over ass in love with her, but it doesn't matter. She'll never love me back. You can write all of that in your precious little book." You sat down heavily in you desk chair.

"Y/N-"

"I'm going to get your case transferred to one of my colleagues. I probably shouldn't have taken it in the first place."

"Can we please talk about this?"

"We just did. All of that talking pushed me to another conclusion actually. Not only am I unlovable, I'm simply unobtainable. No one deserves me."

"Come on. That's not true. At least not the first part. You're extremely loveable. You'd know that if you just talk to her. And sure, maybe no one deserves you. But could you at least let her try?" Jisoo spoke with a severe intensity that made your shoulder's tense.

You swallowed a large lump in your throat, "Please, leave."

Chaeyoung rolled her eyes before practically stomping out the room. Jisoo stayed back for a few seconds longer. Only leaving with a shake of her head when she finally realized you really weren't going to listen to anything anyone had to say.

And you? You just cried.

#blackpink fanfic #jesssica's fanfic #lisa x reader #jennie x reader #lisa fanfic #been through #jennie fanfic

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fangirl-imagines · 5 years

Text

Miss America and the Heartbreak Prince//Teen!Eddie Kaspbrak

A/N: Requested by @lover1307

Prompt: Based on the song “Miss, America and the Heartbreak Prince” by Taylor Swift on her new album Lover. In this imagine Eddie, the reader, and the rest of the losers are all in high school.

Warnings: Bullying, name calling, and slut shaming

“Whore!”

You winced but kept your head held high as you walked through the hall ways with all the grace of the pageant queen you were. Beverly, who had been walking next to you spun on her heels and flipped the offending boy off with a hard glare before whirling back around and squeezing you wrist. You kept walking, trying to look cool and uncaring at the petty insults of seventeen year old boys. Except it wasn’t just senior boys saying these things about you. It was boys in every grade and the girls too. The girls were worse actually.

“Just ignore him Y/N. He’s a creep.” Beverly reminded you with a concerned glance. You turned your head to face her and smiled weakly.

“Thanks Bev.” The bell rang for class and you stopped in your tracks causing your fiery haired best friend to stop and turn to look back at you. “You can go ahead to class Bev. I forgot something in my locker.”

She raised her brows but you just brushed by her and into the stairwell, leaving her standing there. Alone in the stairwell you leaned your head back against the cold brick wall and lowered yourself into the floor, tucking your skirt under your legs gently and closing your eyes. Oh how far you had fallen in just a year.

You use to be one of the most popular girls in this school. You’ve been competing in pageants since you were in middle school and had won most of them. You had your eyes set on being Miss.Maine after high school and maybe even Miss.America one day. You still do actually. It was your looks that got you in with the popular crowd in the seventh grade and had kept you there until last year. Until you broke it off with David Sanders for cheating on you with Caroline Silver, who you had considered a friend. It had been messy and painful in a way only high school breaks up could be and in the fall out they said things about you that stuck, things that people believed coming from your boyfriend and best friend. Your reputation was ruined and you suddenly realized your so called friends didn’t care about you at all.

But Beverly Marsh knew what it was like to have people call her a slut for things she had never done. You had never even talked to her before but she remembered that you had never talked about her either. She sat down with you at lunch one day and the two of you talked about how much you hated your town and 90% of the men in it. She introduced you to the rest of the Loser’s Club and the rest was history. You found it hard to believe that a year ago you didn’t know who Beverly Marsh, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Mike Hanlon, Stan Uris, Bill Denbrought, or Eddie Kaspbrak were but now they were without a dought the most important people in your life.

The first pageant you did after you met them they all came to and sat in the back row cheering loudly and in Richie's case, catcalling for you. You lost the contest but afterwards Eddie gave you the roses they brought you and you all went out for celebratory milkshakes leaving you with a better feeling than winning ever did.

That was the night you and Eddie started dating. Eddie was different than the guys you dated in the past and you loved that about him. He was sarcastic and witty, vulnerable and anxious, chatty and always present, loyal and loving. Good or bad you loved being with him. But you never wanted him to see how badly the rumors affected you. You knew the losers all knew the truth and that was what mattered but even after a year it hadn’t gotten any easier to hear the whispers when you walked down the halls or the names thrown at you by the particularly brave. Your mother told you to ignore them, keep your head held high like a queen but it was much easier said than done. Breaking down in the girls bathroom or the stairwell wasn’t a new occurrence for you but you refused to let yourself cry in front of your friends or your classmates that tried to break you down.

“There you are!” You stiffened and looked up to see Ben standing by the door on the stairs above you. He turned his head and called out into the hall, “Guys, she’s in here!”

You hastily wiped your eyes and stood up, trying to keep what was left of your dignity. The rest of the Losers suddenly appeared behind Ben but it was Eddie that ran down the stairs and stopped in front of you. “Are you okay?! Beverly told us some guy yelled at you and you ran off.” He took your hand and squeezed it but his face kept its worried frown.

“Yeah, she pulled us all out of class to come hunt you down!” Mike added from the top section on the stairs.

You smiled weakly. “I’m sorry guys, you shouldn’t have left class for me. We don’t all need to get detention over this.”

“She’s right, we shouldn’t have.” Stan added deadpan only to get shoved by Bill. You laughed lightly knowing Stan was joking.

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to you. “Seriously though, are you okay? What did that guy say to you?”

You shrugged your shoulders which was enough for him to know it was the same type of thing everyone called you lately. Eddie’s frown deepened. “I’m really sorry we go to school with a bunch of idiots Y/N. You’re too good for them you know.”

He stressed, squeezing your hand again. You forced a smile and nodded. “Thanks Eds.” He rolled his eyes again making you burst out laughing.

“Hey, how come she gets to call you Eds?!” Richie pointed at you with mock jealousy. “You homewrecker!”

“Beep beep Richie!” You laughed which made Richie smile with pride.

The bell for next period interrupted you all and signaled it was time to head for lunch. Together you all walked back into the hall and made your way to the cafeteria. You were walking through the crowd, holding Eddie’s hand and listening to Mike tell you about a new book he read when suddenly you felt a rush of wind pass you and almost knock you down, pulling up your skirt as they went and laughing. You stumbled into Mike with a squeal and he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady. That’s when you looked up and relived that it wasn’t a gust of wind but Jamie Carson, Brian’s best friend. He was laughing so hysterically at the “joke” that he was leaning against one of his buddies for support. He was pointing at your skirt as he laughed. Your cheeks went red as you quickly readjusted your skirt, pushing off of Mike’s shoulder. You opened your mouth to yell at him but before you could say anything there was a high-pitched scream from beside you.

You had never seen Eddie in a fight before. You were almost possitive he had never actually fought anyone besides the time he told you he and the other losers pelted the Bower’s gang with rocks. So you weren’t surprised that everyone around you seem to pause simultaneously at the sight of Eddie Kaspbrak, anxious,hypochondriac, and founding member of the Losers Club racing across the hall and throwing his body into Jamie Carson’s. He straddled the taller boy’s chest and grabbed Jamie’s shirt in one hand and swung his other fist wildly and without a clear direction. The first blow broke the spell that had been cast over Derry high school and the hall broke into chaos.

Jamie tried scooting back from Eddie but got clocked in the jaw while doing so. Mike and Bill grabbed at Eddie’s shoulders and arms trying to pull him off Jamie. Beverly looked like she wanted to jump into the mix, but Ben wouldn’t let go of her hand, keeping her back. Stan watched the fight with wide eyes, frozen in his spot. Richie stood by your side, cheering proudly with enthusiasm for his boy. Eddie was yelling too, a string of obscenities in Jamie’s face. Mike and Bill got hold of Eddie pulling him back by their grip on his arms. He didn’t try and fight them. Jamie sat up, blood pouring from his nose that sat at a crooked angle on his face. He touched it gingerly staring at Eddie in shock. Eddie glanced over at you and your open-mouthed stare, then down at the floor.

Someone in the crowd yelled teacher and the rest of the day became a blur. Jamie disappeared from the crowd, if he got in another fight he would be expelled, while you and the rest of the Losers made a barrier around Eddie to hide his disheveled form. The next few hours were a blur before you found yourself kneeling on the bathroom rug with Eddie sitting on the tub edge, wincing as you cleaned the blood off his busted knuckles.

“You don’t think that I could get hepatitis from this do you? Or-, Or what about AIDS? You don’t think some of Jamie’s blood could have had AIDS in it and gotten into my hand do you?!”

You applied more alcohol than necessary making Eddie wince and glared up at him. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now?! You just got into a fight with Jamie Carson, he could have killed you, and you’re worried about AIDS?”

Eddie shrugged softly, “It’s better than worrying about what my mom’s going to say when she finds out I got into a fight.” He admitted sadly.

Your heart softened; you closed your eyes with a sigh. “Why did you have to hit him Eddie?”

Eddie was quiet, watching you apply a bandage to his hand gently. “I’m sick of seeing them pick on you Y/N. You don’t deserve it, any of it.” His voice was soft and sad. You hadn’t realized how much what was happening to you affected him until now. “You were crying today in the stairwell and then as soon as you felt better some dick tries to knock you down again. And I’m sick of it. I just lost it.”

You kissed the bandage on his hand gently and then kissed his lips softly. “I love you Eddie Kaspbrak.”

He smiled at you, “We’re going to get out of here Y/N. As soon as we graduate. We’re getting out of here.”

You wrapped your arms around his stomach and pulled him into a grateful hug. You felt him kiss your head and you nodded.

“Together.”

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maaaaaatryoshka0325 · 5 years

Text

Broken Promises - Seo Changbin

Warnings: Violence, angst

For @backhugsforhyunjin 😘 I hope you feel better ❤️

“I’ll always protect you, my love.”

Is a line Changbin has always said to you, always whispered in your ear. He said it on your worst nights and your good days. When he was holding you, or when you were simply making coffee. When you feared he wouldn’t come home, and the moment he walked in the door. He always, always, let you know he’d protect you, not matter the cost.

You always trusted him, always knew he’d protect you. Always knew he’d be there for you, right when you needed him to be. Being in love with a Mafia boss was hard however, since you didn’t see him as much. Many days it was just a peck on the lips before he left, if that.

It became harder now that you were carrying his child on top of it. You had to confessed to him that you were pregnant about two months ago, and he was home with you for only two days before he started back up again. You looked down at your swollen belly with a loving look, softly rubbing it.

“I hope you don’t take over your daddy’s business.” You whispered, rubbing your tummy. “I wouldn’t be able to stand wondering if both of you would make it home.”

You walked into your shared bedroom, which had a nursery attached to it. You walked into the nursery and smiled as you looked down at the blankets. They were blue, for a boy. You had been hoping for a girl, so Changbin wouldn’t try and make your son inherit his throne in the Mafia business.

Your worry faded when your eyes laid on the music box Changbin had gotten for the nursery. You gently picked it up and turned the little hand at the bottom before opening it. A little family, a mother, a father, and a son, all popped out as music began playing. Tears filled your eyes as you listened to the song, a little love song Changbin sung to you when you first started dating. You had been cuddled up in his arms, your head on his chest as he sang it to you.

You smiled at the sweet memory, how Changbin was the sweetest guy you had ever met, despite being a Mafia boss. He and his friends all owned different sides of their mafia empire, and Changbin was just below Chan. It put him, and you, in a lot of danger. You were constantly worried about Changbin, and it had taken on a toll on your pregnancy, as you were getting more sick, and having more pains. You tried not to worry so much, as you didn’t want to put stress on your baby.

But it was so hard to not worry or feel stressed when the love of your life was out there, possibly in danger, possibly never coming back. He texted and called you as much as he could, whenever he could. Sometimes it’d be days, sometimes hours. You just wanted him home. You wanted him home with you, to protect you like he promised.

“I’m going out to buy some groceries to make some goods.” You told a maid.

“I should go milady, you’re pregnant and it could be dangerous.” The maid insisted.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” You said with a smile. “Besides, I need some fresh air.”

After a bit of bickering with the maid, you were in your car, pulling out of the giant driveway and going to the city. You knew how much Changbin loved sweets, so you decided to get some ingredients for some baked goods for him, as he was coming home tonight. He had told you he was, and he promised you he’d stay home a bit to be with you.

You stepped into the market and happily grabbed everything you needed, when you felt eyes on you. You looked around and saw nothing, simply shrugging and going up to the cashier. After you paid, you walked out, almost bouncing to your car. You put the groceries in the trunk and got in the drivers seat, turning on some music. You looked down at your belly and touched it, feeling a small kick.

“Your daddy is gonna be excited to feel you kick.” You said with a loving smile.

You pulled out of the parking lot and made your way back to the large mansion. You noticed a black SUV behind you, and they definitely pulled out the same way and time you did. You furrowed your brows and made a random turn, and low and behold, it followed.

“Shit!” You hissed.

You quickly sped up, making as many random turns as you could. Your body shook with fear as you kept driving, not wanting to lead them to your home. You turned to look back and sighed in relief, then gasped when you faced foreword. You slammed on your breaks as you car slid into an SUV. You held up your arms as the airbag deployed and skinned your arms.

You slowly moved your arms and let out a squeal as your door opened and you were being ripped from the car. You kicked and and fought back, desperate to get away.

“No! Let me go!” You yelled.

“She’s pregnant too? This is going to be much more interesting.” You heard one of the men say.

You kicked and tried screaming when they taped your mouth and tied your hands, tossing you in the back of the SUV. Tears poured down your eyes as you saw one grab your phone, and you knew exactly what he was doing. He was calling Changbin.

You watched them dial in a FaceTime, and Changbin picked up almost immediately.

“Hey baby-“ He froze when he saw the men and not you.

“Hello, Seo Changbin.” The one in the drivers seat purred.

“Where the fuck is she?!” You heard Changbin yell.

“She’s safe, for now. I’ll give you 24 hours to come to the main building, before I put a bullet in her head. You don’t want to lose your precious wife and your soon to be child, do you?” The man threatened.

“Show me she’s alive. Now.” Changbin demanded.

You watched as the man moved the phone to you, laying in the back seat with tears streaming down your face. Changbin cursed and you watched as his eyes gentled as he looked at you.

“I’ll be there soon baby, you’re going to be okay.” He soothed you.

More tears pooled down your face as you closed your eyes tightly, fear for your baby, and for Changbin making you tremble.

“I promise, I’m coming.” He said softly.

“Better hurry up Changbin, I don’t have the patience.” The man who held the phone said, moving it away and smirking at Changbin.

When they brought you back to their building, they dropped you on the ground and you landed with a whimper, as you had turned to land on your side and not your stomach. You heard shoes walking towards you as another man, who you realized was the boss, looked down at you.

“His wife and unborn child? You brought me quite the treat.” He said with a sadistic smirk.

He reached his hand out towards you and you jerked away, narrowing your eyes. He chuckled as he reached and took the tape off of your mouth, an amused smirk on his face.

“Feisty huh? How cute.” He purred.

He went to touch your stomach and you lunged foreword, biting his arm. He let out a pained yell and his hand hit your cheek, making you yelp.

“The bitch bit me!” He screamed, holding his bleed arm.

He glared at you then gripped your hair, dragging you into another room where he threw you down. You squealed when he grabbed your chin and slapped you again, anger in his eyes.

“I’ll carve that baby right the fuck out of you.” He snarled as he lifted your head.

You felt the tip dig into your cheek and you tried to struggle away, but he gripped your hair tight and made you look at him as he slid it across your cheek. You whimpered as he smirked, bringing the knife to your belly. You struggled harshly against him, not caring that he was nearly ripping your hair out. He gripped your throat harshly and pressed down, making you choke with one large hand.

“It’s a shame, I was going to give Changbin time to save you, but you ruined that. I’m going to take the baby first, then watch you bleed out.” He purred as he raised the knife.

You closed your eyes tight when a gun shot ran out and the man dropped you. You landed with a hard thud and whimpered, tears pouring down your face as you gasped for air. You felt arms grab you and you were lifted to your feet. You looked up and saw Felix and Jisung,both of them holding you up.

“Are you okay?!” Jisung asked over all of the noise.

He looked at your bloody lip and the cut on your cheek and you let out a tiny sob as you buried your face into him as he lifted you up.

“Changbin wants us to get her out of here, lets go.” Felix yelled.

They rushed you into the car and shot at anyone chasing the three of you, quickly driving to the hospital Woojin and Seungmin owned. Seungmin met the three of you around back and rushed you into a room with an ultra sound, his wife, who is a nurse, checking on the baby while he looked you over.

“You’re so lucky Y/N.” He breathed in relief as he made sure you were okay.

“Wh-what about my baby?” You asked, tears pouring down your face.

‘He’s okay Y/N, he’s alright.” His wife said with a kind smile.

They moved you to your room and gave you pain killers and fluids, making sure you were alright. You laid on your side, tears pouring down your face. You were still so scared, and where was Changbin? He was supposed to be there for you, to protect you, and he wasn’t. You felt sick as you realized, he really wasn’t there for you as much as he promised, and now this happened.

You heard the door open and the sound of boots walking in, and you knew it was him. Changbin had finally come.

“Y/N?” He called.

You were silent, angry. If he had kept his promise, if he had stayed home, this wouldn’t of happened. You wouldn’t be in this mess, you wouldn’t be scared.

“Y/N are you okay?” He asked.

“You promised... You promised you’d protect me. You lied.” You whispered, tears pouring down your face.

“Y/N-”

“Leave.” You said, your voice shaking.

“Y/N please-”

“Get out! I’m done Changbin! Leave me alone! You’re not... Good for us!” You yelled, curling more into yourself as you sobbed.

Silence filled the room, then the sound of him walking away filled your ringing ears. He was walking weird, one foot coming down more harder than the other.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispered before shutting the door.

He slid down the door and hid his face in his hands, which were torn up from fighting and using his gun. The front of his suit was covered in blood, from the bullet sitting in his shoulder, and from the other men. Blood covered his pant leg as he was shot in his thigh as well, his face bleeding and bruised from fighting. He had lost it in that building, making sure to get a point across to never harm you or his child.

“Are you okay?” Woojin asked, dropping beside him and rubbing his opposite shoulder.

“She wants us to break up..” Changbin whispered.

“Give her time. She’s just shaken up. Now come on, we have to get those bullets out.” Woojin said, helping his friend up as he limped into another room.

You heard a knock at your door and then it opened, foot steps coming to your bed.

“Y/N?” It was Jisung, who was your best friend.

You saw up and looked at him, your face stained with dried tears. He sat down beside you and rubbed your arm, a sad look in his eye.

“Have you spoke to Changbin?” He asked.

“He came in earlier. I’m just so sick of him telling me he’s going to be there and protect me, when he’s never there for me. Then this..” You trailed off.

“Y/N, he DOES protect you. He DID protect you. He saved you and his unborn child and risked himself to do so. He didn’t even get checked before running in your room to make sure you’re alright... Even though he got hurt really bad.” Jisung said softly.

“He’s hurt?” You asked, your eyes widening.

Jisung nodded and sighed.

“He came in here so fast to make sure you both were okay Y/N... He loves you both so much. If you can get mad at him for being away, be mad at us for needing him. I promise we won’t bother you both for awhile.. Just at least give him another chance.” He pleaded.

You leaped out of your bed and ran over to where Seugnmin’s wife was, your eyes wide with worry.

“Where is he?” You asked, your voice shaking.

“The room next to yours love.” She said with a smile.

You hurried as fast as you could to his room before stopping in front of it. You took a breath and slowly opened the door. Your eyes landed on him, his muscular back to you as he sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands. You noticed his left shoulder and left right thigh were bandaged, as he was shirtless and wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

“Ch-Changbin?” You asked.

He lifted his head quickly and stood up, walking towards you. Tears streamed down your face as you saw dried blood staining his upper and lower body, his face full of bruises and a couple stitches.

“Y/N.. I’m so sorry.” He whispered.

You stepped into his arms, burying your face into his good shoulder. He raised his good arm and cradled your head as you sobbed into his skin, your body trembling.

“I’m so sorry Changbin... I didn’t know you were hurt.” You sobbed.

“Shhh... It’s okay baby. I told you before, I’ll keep you both safe.” He whispered, pulling away and pecking your lips.

He winced as he bent down and got down on his knees, smiling as he kissed your tummy.

“Seungmin told me you were safe buddy, I’m so glad.” He whispered.

He slowly raised himself back up and pulled you back into his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your head.

“Please... Stay with me. I’ll be home more often, I promise. I’ll never let anything like this happen again.” He whispered, his voice shaking.

You pulled away and cupped his cheek, gently rubbing it. He grabbed your hand and kissed it as a tear slid down his cheek.

“I’m not going anywhere Changbin.” You whispered.

He smiled and pulled you in for a kiss, a smile on his lips. He dropped his hand to your stomach and smiled.

“You hear that bud? You guys aren’t going anywhere.” He said.

You both laid on his hospital bed, his head resting on your bump as he sang that song to you, making you drift off.

“I’ll give my last breath to protect you both.” He whispered into your belly, a smile on his face. “I promise.”

#ChangBin #CHANGBEANIE #seo changbin #stray kids #straykids #stray kids angst #skz #skz imagines #skz changbin #skz seo changbin #stray kids changbin #stray kids seo changbin

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iresecho · 3 years

Text

FRACTURED

hey! here’s a draft of a story i wrote recently. feel free to give it a read (it’s only a mere 1500 words) and let me know what you think!

oh, and about that word count? this short was for my class, so please bear with it. i understand it is very minimal for the amount of substance it contains. i hope you enjoy it regardless though! i’ll upload a finished version once i’ve completed it. any and all suggestions/critiques are welcome! pls be nice :)

Genre: Creative Fiction

Word Count: 1520

!TW: MULTIPLE DEATHS, BLOOD!

I sigh as I tap my pencil repeatedly on the table, the rubber nub of what’s left of the eraser pinging the oak beneath it. What’s it missing? There’s gotta be something missing I ponder to myself. I’ve been working on this poem for ages, but I still feel like it isn’t ready for this contest. I switch back to the website and read the headline ‘Do you want to become a new up and coming writer? Enter this contest to win!’ It’s the New York Times contest for a new up-coming author, and the grand prize would be enough to pay off my entire debt, and then some. I’ve had this poem written for awhile now, yet I still don’t think that it’s ready. I’ve read it over a million times, and I can’t seem to find what it’s missing. My mother was never too fond of my writing, but my father always loved it. He loved everything I did. My father’s always been proud of what I’ve done, and what I do. He’s never once shamed me for choosing what I believe in, and what I’m passionate about. I glance down at the gold-crested penguin pendant around my neck, lifting my hand up to grasp the cool metal. I smile as the memory it holds replays through my head. It was a gift from my father for my tenth birthday. He bought our family tickets to Disney World to celebrate, and purchased this necklace for me after I had mentioned several times in the gift shop how much I wanted it. Ever since it’s been my favourite animal. I hold it in my palm tightly, fingers grazing over the smooth, yet rigid surface of the pendant as I reach for my cell phone beside my open laptop. I begin to scroll through the messages between me and my father, a fond smile appearing on my lips as I read through the texts:

YESTERDAY

Dad: Hey, honey! How’s the poem coming along for the contest?

Me: it’s okay… I still feel like there’s something that it needs. I just can’t figure it out

Dad: When is the deadline to submit?

Me: tonight at 6

Dad: I’m sure you will figure it out sweetheart. You’re a great writer. Love you kiddo Xoxo.

Me: thanks dad, love you too

I smile again as I set down my phone, peering back to the computer screen before me. What seems like minutes go by and I get lost in the words in front of me. I jump as my phone begins to vibrate loudly on the table. I can’t help but shut my eyes for a second to brace myself:

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hello, what are you doing right now?”

��It’s my mother. Great. She’s probably at work.

“Working on my poem for the contest, why?”

“....” There’s silence on the other end of the line. I wait a few moments, then,

“Mom?”

“...Huh? Oh, sorry. What did you say?”

“Forget it.”

“....” More silence. She does this every time. Doesn’t it bother you?

“Are you still at the hospital?”

“....” I’ve had it.

“MOM!!” I yell.

“What? Oh sorry honey, what were you saying?”

“Why do you do this to me every time? You never listen to me! You’re always on a call or too busy for me anyway!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? It’s just hard for me when I’m at work sometimes honey but I promise I want to hear it.”

This is always her excuse. It’s always just too ‘hard’ for her to actually have a conversation with her only daughter. It’s always about work for her.

“You know what. Forget it. Call me when you have time for your daughter.” I hang up the phone.

Ugh she makes me so mad! Why does she never listen to me? First it was denying my talent for writing and trying to force me to go down some boring nine-to-five career hole I’d never get out of, now this?

I peer around my dingy, one bedroom apartment. Maybe she’s right. You’ve been living off chickpeas out of a can and barely surviving. I mean, look at you? You have barely any food in your fridge, and your ‘apartment’ is broken down and disgusting! What did you think your BA in English would get you anyway? You’ve been searching for a job in your field for a while, and still no opportunity has come up. Maybe your mother was right. Maybe you should have studied law. Maybe she would have listened to you then. Maybe you should have listened to her—

Me: hey dad, can I talk to you?

Dad: Sure honey, is something wrong?

Me: it’s mom, she’s always too busy to listen to what I have to say. it’s like talking to a brick wall

Dad: I’m sorry honey, but your mom is pretty busy at work. Maybe on her break?

Me: i’ve tried. she even calls me and then doesn’t listen! I feel like she hates me...

Dad: No she doesn't sweetheart, she loves you. And so do I. Xoxo.

Me: I love you too, dad where are you now? dad? helloooooo?

Ugh, now my own father is too busy for me too? I guess no one has time for me. Or maybe, I’m just not enough for them. Maybe I’m just some big disappointment, maybe—just take a nap, you’re probably stressed from being tired.

I’m abruptly awoken out of my slumber when my phone goes off loudly. I scramble to find it on my bedside table, slamming my hand down repeatedly to try and locate the device. I manage to pinpoint the phone, and hold it up before me. I squint at the screen, scowling at the newfound brightness and see the word “MOM” in bright bold text. I press accept and hold the phone up to my ear:

“Hello?”

I can hear her sobbing on the other end of the line. I sit up straight in bed, eyes wide with worry as I stare at the dark matter in front of me.

“What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

“Honey, your dad’s been in an accident.”

“What? What do you mean?”

I start to shake, eyes brimming with panic, heart banging against my chest as I wait for her response after an ill-conceived sob:

“He was driving on the highway, and um—I found his phone and he was texting you while driving and he swerved into the other lane and he—”

“What, he what?!”

“He’s dead.”

I drop the phone to my side as my life starts caving from the exterior in. I lose my breath as the realization sets in. How did you let this happen? How could you?

“No.”

A single tear streams from my face.

“NO!”

I sob as I wail into the darkness of my room, hands covering my flooding sockets as I scream. A steady river forms blurring my vision for what seems like eternity. I stay like this for a while. You did this. You killed him.

“I’m so sorry”.

I pace back and forth, raking fingers through my hair, tears streaming down my face as I try and accept the truth. How could I have let this happen? I’m the reason he’s gone, if I just would’ve called him instead, maybe things would have been different. I press my spine against the cool tile of the bathroom wall as I stare at my dishevelled reflection. You’re disgusting. I slam my fist against the mirror, shattering the glass littering shards throughout the room. My eyes begin to pour, as does my bleeding hand from the impact. I look below me at my feet, peering at my skewed reflection through the broken, bloody pieces. I’m sorry dad, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.

“Thank you all for coming”.

I watch my mother from the church pew seven rows back, wiping her tears as she stabilizes herself on the podium. The room is dimly lit, filled with a few dozen family members I haven’t seen since infanthood. The white, flowered casket sits perpendicular to my mother on the stage behind her.

“She was always so driven” I hear her say. “She was stubborn,” she laughs, “but we all loved her the same.”

She takes a few new tissues from the funeral-gifted box, looking at my graduation picture surrounded with white roses, taking a breath before starting again with a shaky voice:

“It hasn’t been easy, with my husband passing and now my daughter. But um, I’d like us to celebrate her death. She was a brilliant writer, and it certainly showed when she won the contest for the New York Times Best Up-and-Coming Writer. I’m really proud of her, we all are.”

My eyes well up with tears as her words hit my chest like bombs. She’s proud of me? She thinks I’m a good writer? I smile to myself,

“I finally did it, dad. I made it.”

“I know sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.” He smiles as he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go home.”

Winter eventually fades

Revealing the unknown golden flowers

Blooming just below

#fractured #short story #short fiction #creative fiction #creative story #novel #graphicnovel #literature #english #story #original story

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sweetcatmintea · 4 years

Text

He’s Only Hurting Himself

Hello hello ^u^ Back again for Flash Fiction Friday! (I know I’ve missed some and have messages to reply to and I promise I’ll get to them soon! I’ve been running around chasing my own tail lately @A@;;)

This is @bookenders flash fiction prize for the giveaway I did. Thanks so much for your patience and I hope you like it!

Feedback is very appreciated!

Prompt: I'd love for you to write in a style that you've always wanted to try but haven't yet, for whatever reason, on any subject! 😊

I decided to try a meaningful, future tense story

TW: Alcohol, Alcoholism, Dementia, Death, Brief mentions of illness, Sad

Words: 1351

____

A long day, a deep sigh, sinking slowly into the battered and overstuffed couch cushions, an icy beer safely in hand. The children were asleep, the day was close to over. He leaned back, letting the tiredness seep from his pores. The tv flashed one program or another, whichever was required to complete the Thursday ritual. Weekday programs never really caught his interest. His wife, lovely, his rock, was invested in the prime-time dramas, so he sat while she watched. He toyed with the bottle, briefly rolling it in his palm, absently drawing out the anticipation. The first crack was always the sweetest. Bitter bubbles scratched the building itch in his throat. A sip, then a mouthful, then a new bottle, then he woke up. Friday repeat.

He could say he loved the malty flavour in the evening, that he was a man of taste, sampling the local beverages. He could say a lot of things. He was beginning to think the longing was a problem, but he would never say that. It was his body after all. His choices weren’t hurting anyone but himself. There were issues beneath the surface – aren’t there always? Maybe it was the stress, maybe a simple need to placate the thirst, maybe his childhood came into play. He didn’t need help. He told his wife so many times. His pride wouldn’t allow it. So what if he went a little over sometimes? Everyone has their vices. At least he was a happy drunk.

So he sank into his favourite chair, air warm and beer cold. The children were asleep, and his wife was watching the weekday program. He knew he wouldn’t remember the rest of the night but that doesn’t stop him from raising the bottle. He took a sip.

What he doesn’t know is that there will always be enough money for alcohol, even when the pantry is slim. That his wife, lovely, his rock, is left alone when he comes home, her words falling into nothing so often she stops talking.

He couldn’t imagine that, a few weeks from now, his son will be preparing for an important recital. He will be so excited. Months of practice all leading up to the big performance. The struggles, the triumphs. His son can’t wait to show his parents how hard he worked. And then he will slip. Ankle broken and heart shattered, he will wait in the emergency room with his mother. His father will be too drunk to come to him. He will never be able to look at the man the same way. He will forgive him, but the stain of abandonment will never come out. Bottles collect to dampen the failure. He hates the noise.

A few years later, the man’s daughter will come to him. She’ll be laughing, burnt red from the sports festival and waving a blue ribbon in triumph. She’ll be so proud, telling him that she’s going to be the best in the world at the javelin throw. He will agree, as any parent would. As long as she’s happy, that will be the future he wants for her. When she starts feeling unwell on the drive home, it’s chalked up to heat exhaustion. An ice block, water, and an early night to fox her tiredness. He and his wife discuss their worries over drinks while their kids are in bed. Heat stroke is a genuine concern but it was a stable of growing up here. She should be fine in a few days.

His daughter’s skin tans golden while she stays tired and dizzy. The vomiting sends them to a GP. He makes sure he is present this time. He will wish he wasn’t. The diagnosis is troubling, but unlikely. They’ll have to run some tests just to rule it out. The tests are positive. They determine acute liver failure four days before her fifteenth birthday.

Donors will be scarce. She’s on the waitlist but her blood type is a complication. She’s always been the spitting image of her mother, sharing only two traits with her father – his oak brown eyes and his O- blood. He will offer his liver. He will offer over and over and over. Take it, take the while thing if you can salvage one piece, please, take my liver. The check box glares back

🔲 No active substance abuse

In the twist of a cap, she’s gone.

He will never recover. Night after night, he will drink his sorrows, drowning his wife in the process. The final straw, an ultimatum. Sober up or be alone. He can’t lose anyone else. The pain is too much. It will be hard, one of the hardest things he will ever do, but he will sink into that old couch, son in college, and the tv playing the weekday program. He will share a tea with his wife. The house feels empty.

It’s sad when the damage is invisible, the result inevitable. Wrinkles will set in a little earlier than expected. Grey overtaking blond. Sometimes he forgets his appointments. Old age, they laugh. His wife will age much more gracefully. There’s a tiredness in her eyes, one that she hasn’t been able to shake for years now. But she’s still beautiful. The crow’s feet set in beside them, deepening with every smile. It’s one of his favourite features. Sometimes, he gets irritable. He will yell without meaning to. He was never really one to yell. She smiles less.

When he panics in the shopping centre, she will know something is wrong. He was lost, scared, frail. She will see the diagnosis before the doctor says it, his face a written apology. Dementia. She will hold herself together well, all things considered. He will not. The road paved for him was one that terrified him. With each detail the doctor will paint, he wishes he could look anywhere else. Ten years to lose himself. Ten years to die. His son will come home immediately. They will get through this. One day at a time, they’ll be ok. The promise was made in the late evening, the family holding each other on the old comfortable couch, tv playing the weekday program in the background.

Confusion will come more and more. Week and disoriented, he will struggle as the days blur on. One morning in the early spring, he approaches his wife in tears. He can’t remember the feel of her hand on his cheek. She will hold him tight and cry.

Time becomes fuzzy. He will shift between selves. On good days, he will be him. On bad days, he is angry. He yells and storms, drinks and swears. He hates the old woman who pleads with him to stop. On terrible days he begs the strange man to let him see his boy. He’s so proud of his son. He hasn’t seen him in so long. He doesn’t want to miss his recital. He’s so, so happy when his wife visits him. She’s older now. He doesn’t know when that happened. But she will still be so beautiful. He loves the crinkles around her eyes. Sometimes, he will remember he needs to pick up his daughter from the sports festival. She always tries so hard, you know. The old woman and the strange man cry when he tells them.

He will die. Quietly, in his sleep. The disease finally corroding his brain stem, stopping his heart. The guilty relief tears his wife apart. She stands at his grave, praying he finds peace. She will spend her entire life waiting for him to get better.

His son is hollow. He will have been for a long time. In the quiet evening when work is done, he will pour another glass of wine. He doesn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

There is no way the man could predict all of this as he takes another sip of his beer. His wife, lovely, his rock, gives him a worried look. He smiles and kisses her cheek. A few beers weren’t hurting anyone. Besides, he was a happy drunk.

-----

To be real for a second, Australia has a really prevalent drinking culture. It makes me worry about both the people getting drunk on the regular and the people around them. This story is in no way intended to shame people who drink, it’s supposed to highlight the false belief ‘it’s fine if I harm myself because it doesn’t hurt others’.

-----

Tag list

@snobbysnekboi, @inkovert, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer

#This is kind of a downer story so let me know if you want something else #writing #writblr #original writing #flash fiction #Flash Fiction Friday #story #short story #Alcohol #alcoholism #character death #death #dementia #sad stories #More at my deviantArt SweetCatMint

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hiddleshoen-blog · 5 years

Text

Reader/Loki

Hi. This feels a little weird. I haven’t been on tumblr for a few years until a few weeks ago when I decided to re join.

I’ve been enjoying the Loki tag a lot these past weeks and I’ve decided to write a little something - short fanfic, whatever you wanna name it. If you enjoy reading it and you’d like me to write more, I would appreciate a like or a reblog or anything.

I hope you do! xoxo 🥰

You have unknown powers. Those powers have never manifested themselves because your mother, in order to protect you and make you believe you’re human, has always tried to control them.

Now with the stress of graduating in a month and not feeling ready to start the adult life, your powers are more noticeable than ever. Not by yourself, but by The Avengers.

Your evolved powers are able to control the weather depending on your mood.

Your mom fears the worst because she knows she is not going to be able to control them anymore. And once that happens, she knows she will attract Tony Stark’s attention, which will force her to reveal her own secret: he was your father.

If the weather got any crazier, Tony would immediately think she was behind it, and they would meet again. At the end of the day, he didn’t know he had a kid and would blame this on her.

And so it happened. The Avengers located your home. Tony and your mom meet again. Thor, Loki and Natasha are with him. Your mom explains it all to Tony, says she wanted to raise you like a normal kid, away from the world he knows.

He can’t believe none of it, he is very upset, until a very drunk you storms into the house with two of your friends, singing along the lyrics of a very millennial song. You trip and fall over your friend. A drunk mess. Loki comments on Tony’s alcoholic tendencies and how you’re clearly his child.

Tony tells him to help you sober up without using any of his powers, “No magic around her.” while he keeps talking to your mom about how they would explain this to you without causing you a nervous breakdown, which would tornado the fuck out of the city.

Loki sighs and rolls his eyes while he picks you up from the floor and takes you to the bathroom. Natasha and Thor get your two friends home.

Loki takes you to the shower and throws you in there, dressed. “I heard a cold shower is a natural sobering up method for a mortal.” Mumbles to himself, with a cheeky grin on his face.

A few minutes go by, and, seeing that you don’t have an unpleasant reaction, he stops the water. You suddenly open your eyes, grab him by the shoulders and as you stare dead in his eyes, you say “I’m gonna throw up.”

He opens his eyes as big as you did just a second ago, followed by a sarcastic smile. “Excuse me.” He says, while holding a finger up. He then leaves you there and goes back to the living room, where Tony and you mom were. “I believe your toddler needs major assistance, and since I am not allowed to use my powers I consider my job here done.” He says, as he’s ready to walk out the door.

In that moment, Thor and Natasha appear in front of him, forcing him to stay inside.

“You go back there, we’re not done yet.” Says Tony. Loki raises his hands as a sign of peace. It seems like he was stuck with you for the night.

“Who’s this greasy haired weirdo in a latex suit?!” You yell as he enters back in the bathroom.

Loki shushes you.

“You’ve just seen me five minutes ago. Unbelievable.” He says, as he grumpily mumbled a few more things to himself.

You threw up not too long after, but thankfully, not on him.

You were now feeling a little better, definitely not sober, but slowly getting there.

“I’m gonna need to you leave.” You said, touching your own head, making sure it was still there since you were very dizzy still.

Loki was just sitting on the floor, staring at the wall while twisting the cap of your toothpaste, mad at himself for taking any commands of Tony’s. But he now had to since he wasn’t a “villain” anymore. Thor and him were living at The Avengers’ Tower and ever since he had tried to be more decent to everyone on the team, to make up for the New York disaster. As soon you said that, he looked at you with a gesture of approval and said, “I very much agree.”

You still didn’t know who he was, you thought he was some kinky guy one of your friends hooked up with at the party and decided to take - to your - home.

“Alright pal, pack it up.” You said, as you stood up from the toilet seat.

Not so unexpectedly, your foot’s calculation went wrong and you tripped over, again. Only this time your face landed on the God’s crotch.

A loud thunder was heard from the outside, followed by heavy rain. There weren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe the shame you were feeling at the moment, but there sure as hell was enough water to pour from the sky to make up for it.

Loki stared at you in des belief, for probably the hundredth time of the night. He couldn’t articulate a word either.

You quickly stood up, ready to open the door and get to your bedroom to change out of those wet party clothes, only to trip with his leg and fall back down again.

You were debating whether to play dead so that maybe he would leave.

“You are the least bright mortal I have yet encountered.” He said. Sighing, he stood up and gently helped you up to your bedroom. He couldn’t deny your vulnerability was quite adorable. You let yourself be helped without saying a word. In fact, you wouldn’t be saying a word until this posh-speaking stranger walked out the door. You wouldn’t see him again anyway.

“I believe you have to get out of this damp attire.” He added. “Can you do that by yourself or shall I lend you a hand with that too?” He smirked.

You looked at him, unamused and in silence. You just noticed then he was incredibly tall. Would be kind of attractive if it weren’t for the unusual circumstances you met him in.

“I guess not.” He raised his eyebrows while directing his glance to the floor. He expected his comment to be funny.

You blushed as he left the room.

To be continued

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #marvel #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #mcu #tom hiddleston #thor odinson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader

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armadil-lo · 5 years

Text

if when he sees me (2/6)

CHAPTER ONE: http://armadil-lo.tumblr.com/post/181213297051/if-when-he-sees-me-16

Chapter Summary: “It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

My Notes: if you're surprised at how quick this update came out, trust me, i am too. again though, no promises on when the next chapter will be, sorry :') this chapter was going to be longer, but i decided to split it instead because there were still like three scenes left and i'd prefer to keep the chapters similar in length i think heh. (oh and, the flowers i was thinking of in the scene towards the end are poinsettias - no idea when and where they typically live, but let's just pretend it's possible ^.^)

Words: 3195

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038661/chapters/40373681

Zero Gravity Diner - open from 10AM to 10PM Monday to Friday, and an earlier closing time of 8PM on weekends - is an anomaly in the suburbs just outside the central city. It’s not in the shopping district for people to spend more money on between their retail purchases; it’s not in the middle of the business district for people to get coffee for their bosses or spend their lunch breaks; it’s nowhere near the university for stressed Yuuei students to study at or take a breather between classes. No, the Uraraka’s opened their small, cosy diner nestled between family houses on a street with little to no regular foot traffic.

The business obviously earns enough to keep the family afloat; now mostly run by Uraraka, who dropped out of Yuuei at the end of her first semester to help out when another waitress moved away, and her father, who is the head chef behind their tasty menu. Her mother has a job elsewhere in the city, but usually takes over closing up the restaurant from her daughter once she’s gotten home, eaten, and relaxed for an hour or so.

The majority of their customers hear about the place through word-of-mouth, or Kaminari’s instagram. There are a decent amount of regulars - elderly who come in for a cup of tea, young couples who stop in for breakfast while walking their dogs, and families with small children who come in for meals. If Katsuki had to guess, he’d say that all of their frequent customers probably just live nearby. But regardless, it would most certainly be safe to say that because of its location, Zero Gravity Diner is a relatively quiet business.

Especially on a summer weekday when it’s too hot to even function properly and Katsuki has sweat on his upper lip and in his palms from the short walk there.

Still, Katsuki curses all the gods that might exist for the fact that the diner is empty when he arrives for his shift the next morning, despite expecting just that.

“Good morning, Bakugou, you absolute jerk.”

Empty apart from Uraraka, of course.

“Fuck off, Round Face,” he hisses with a glare. “It’s too early to deal with your bullshit.”

“Oh no you don’t, mister.” She has her hands on her hips again, expression like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “You put on that damn apron and get back out here so we can talk like I said we were going to.”

He brushes past her with an eye roll and a grumble. In the kitchen, he nods as he walks by Satou, diligently baking away to fill up their cabinet for the next couple days. He tries to take his time in the staffroom and flicks a message to Kirishima once he’s got his uniform on.

Bakugou (9:57): Thank fuck we have air conditioning at work.

Kirishima (9:58): lucky D: i’m dyinggggg ugh

Bakugou (9:58): Shame. Buy a fucking fan or something.

He pockets the phone and walks back out front with a heavy sigh. Uraraka corners him again by the time he’s clocking in.

“What,” he demands, but it comes out flat. He knows what.

“You know what,” she echoes his thoughts. She pauses until he makes eye contact with her and he frowns at the expectant grin on her face now. “Tell me about Kirishima!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he states, walking over to the coffee machine to set his grind for the day. It usually takes him a couple tries; Kaminari’s is too damn fine. Either that or the dunce face just doesn’t tamp very hard, because either way it usually takes him a few shots every morning to get the coffee extracting the way it’s meant to.

“You can’t avoid this conversation, Bakugou,” she persists, following close behind him. He can feel her eyes watching him as he gets to work setting his grind, and hears her perch herself on the counter somewhere behind him.

A patient silence falls over them as Katsuki moves the grinder ring a couple notches over to start with and runs a trial shot through the machine. He counts the seconds it takes for it to pour into the cup and then uses a teaspoon to give it a taste. The black coffee is disgusting on its own, as it always is, but he pays attention to where on his tongue the bitterness lingers, and goes back to twist the ring another notch towards coarse.

Katsuki knows he can’t avoid talking to Uraraka about Kirishima forever. She’s the one who downloaded the app onto his phone and decided that hair-for-brains would be a good option for him, so she already knows more than he’d like her to. And honestly Katsuki would prefer she get answers from him than from Deku.

This time, the shot starts extracting exactly when it should, and Katsuki hands off the perfect espresso to Uraraka.

“You got in my head,” he mumbles as he gives her the cup.

She merely raises an eyebrow and takes a sip. “How so?”

“Saying that I was fucking bored and shit.” Katsuki crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “I was going to delete it and then he messaged me so I decided, fuck it. What else was I going to do with my time?”

“So you’re going to pursue a summer romance with him?!” Uraraka asks, giddy.

Katsuki scowls. “What the fuck? No! Where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

Her smile turns confused. “Is that… not what you’re doing?”

She huffs when he only fixes her with a frustrated glare in reply.

“It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

Katsuki tries valiantly to ignore the fact that he can feel his face heating up again, and this time it’s got nothing to do with the weather outside.

“No!” he cries, strangled.

“Why not?” She’s frowning now.

“Why not? Fucking- I’m only talking to him to pass the time! I don’t want to fucking meet him, let alone date him!”

“But what better way to pass the time than with him?” she insists, waggling her eyebrows. Katsuki splutters.

“I don’t fucking know him! Do you know how stupid and dangerous it is to meet people you’ve only talked to online, Angelface? It’s a shitty fucking idea. I’m just talking to him because I have nothing else to do, but I don’t want to meet him and soon enough he’ll move on to wooing the next guy he fucking matches with on this godforsaken app and forget all about me anyway.”

Uraraka squints at him over the rim of her coffee, taking a long sip. Katsuki crosses his arms and holds his chin up. He recognises that expression on her face - he’s seen her wear it many times since they first started talking properly in their second year of high school. She thinks he’s being stubborn and difficult for no reason. And sure, maybe in high school Katsuki was stubborn and difficult for no reason about a lot of things, but he does have reasons now and he stands by them.

“I’m sorry but, to be frank,” she says after a long moment, “that all sounds like bullshit to me.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and growls, “Did you miss the part where I said we don’t know each other?”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing, Bakugou,” she states as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’re getting to know each other. Just do that for a while longer if it makes it easier to meet him in person.”

He sighs heavily and drags a hand down his face in frustration. “You don’t get it. I’m not fucking meeting Shitty Hair, end of story.”

A sly grin slowly spreads across Uraraka’s face now. “What was that? Shitty Hair?”

Katsuki is momentarily saved from the conversation by a customer walking into the diner, making the bell above the door ring. It’s the chick with the ponytail, who seems far too fancy to be slumming it in Zero Gravity Diner for her morning coffee, but Katsuki gets to work on her usual order before she even says anything. He blocks out hers and Uraraka’s idle chatter (mostly about Ponytail’s girlfriend, who is a friend of Dunce Face), breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself down as he makes the coffee. He feels shaky for some reason.

“Good morning, Bakugou-san,” Ponytail greets him as he hands her the coffee. He bites back the rude response on the tip of his tongue and forces a close-mouthed smile onto his face in return.

When Ponytail leaves, Uraraka waves and calls out a goodbye to her before she turns her attention to Katsuki once more. She looks less mischievous now than she had before Yaomomo walked in.

“Bakugou,” she starts, tone almost artificially light and airy, “do you know what your nickname system is?”

“My what?” he deadpans. This already sounds like a bunch of crap.

“Your nickname system,” Uraraka repeats. “Or do you think you just choose the nicknames you give people at random?”

“Of course I fucking do,” he snaps. “They just fucking come to me, I don’t sit and waste my time meticulously planning what names I’m going to call you idiots.”

Uraraka nods. “Well, I can tell you what your system is.”

“I just fucking said I don’t have one!” he yells incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“But you do,” she insists through laughter at his outburst. Katsuki seethes as she takes a moment to collect herself. “Look, you might not think so, but I think I’ve figured it out. If it’s not a general comment about our face, then it’s what you consider to be our most striking feature.”

It… actually sounds plausible, but it strikes Katsuki as wrong almost immediately because-

“Deku.”

She waves that off. “Deku-kun is the exception. You gave that nickname to him when you guys were, like, six. And you were a massive jerk to him back then.” She pauses. “Although, you’re still a jerk now, so…”

“You were saying?” he monotones.

“Right! So you’ve got me, who’s usually Round Face or Angelface. You also used to call me Pink Cheeks sometimes in high school because I wore too much blush, remember? Then there’s Dunce Face or Sparky, because of the bolt in Kaminari-kun’s hair, as well as Soy Sauce Face for his boyfriend and Frog Face for Tsuyu-chan.” She lists off the names, counting on her fingers as she goes. “But then there’s Todoroki, and you call him IcyHot or half-and-half something.” Uraraka looks up and smiles at him now. “That’s because of Todoroki-kun’s heterochromia, right?”

“And his whole fucking candy cane aesthetic,” Katsuki grumbles. And okay, he has to admit she seems to have a point. Apparently he needs to get more creative.

“Exactly! And now you’ve given Kirishima the nickname Shitty Hair,” she continues. “So I think that means you might actually like Kirishima’s hair.” She pokes him in the side as she says it and he swats her hand away.

Katsuki scoffs with a displeased, “Tch.” The conversation has gone on long enough as far as he’s concerned, so he turns away to grab some cleaning supplies out of the cupboard.

“Was that a yes?” Round Face prods, sounding far too pleased with herself.

“It’s bright fucking red,” Katsuki bites out, grabbing the spray and a cloth. “And he’s got so much gel in it that it literally sticks straight up on his fucking head.”

“I didn’t hear you deny it yet, Bakugou,” she sing-songs.

“Fuck off,” he says as he shoulders past her to actually get some work done.

“Hi Uraraka! Hey Kacchan,” Kaminari thinks he can get away with proclaiming as he walks into the diner for his shift later that afternoon.

“Call me that one more time, Sparky, and I’ll wipe that fucking smirk off your face,” Katsuki snarls, untying the apron from around his waist. Dunce Face only laughs.

God, he is more than ready to get out of this place today. Uraraka has been pestering him non-stop with questions, even when he resorted to only giving her grunts and one-worded answers. There’s nowhere to escape from her in a diner void of customers and he’s been itching to get away from her prying eyes all day. He hasn’t even messaged Kirishima once, though he’s felt his phone buzz in his pocket a few times.

He’s out of the door as soon as he can be, not even bothering to say goodbye to the others as he stalks out of the restaurant and far down the street before he takes out his phone.

Kirishima has mostly just messaged him a few updates about the heat and his adventures in finding a gym to work out at. It appears none of the ones he’s been to so far have given off the right ‘vibe’ yet, whatever that fucking means.

Bakugou (4:06): Have you been to Riot Recreation Center?

The reply is instant, as if Kirishima has been waiting all day for Katsuki’s response.

Kirishima (4:07): hey!! how was work? and no i haven’t, is it any good? :o

Bakugou (4:07): Boring and annoying. The RRC is the best place to go in town if you want to work out.

In truth, he hasn’t been to the gym there since before he knuckled down to study for finals towards the end of last semester. But he knows it offers an impressive amount of facilities.

Kirishima (4:08): i’ll look it up now!! :D

Katsuki pockets the phone as Kirishima does so. It’s cooled down quite a bit since this morning, though the sky is still cloudless. He stops in front of the entrance to a park he knows bridges the difference between suburbs and city. It’s the long way home and would add on about another twenty minutes to his walk, but instead of sticking to the roads, he decides to turn into the park today anyway.

There’s a decent crowd in the park making the most of the weather too. Plenty of people with their dogs, children laughing on the swings, picnic blankets littering the grass. Katsuki takes it in, people watching and admiring the flowers blooming along the path that winds through the gardens.

He feels his phone vibrate and pulls it out of his pocket, interested in what Kirishima thinks of the Riot Rec Center.

But it’s not a message from Kirishima.

You have a new match waiting for you! the notification on his screen declares.

Katsuki scowls and unlocks his phone, glaring at the photo that pops up on his screen of some guy with black hair and the fakest smile he thinks he’s ever seen in his life.

The message comes instantaneously.

Shindou (4:12): Hey there beautiful ;)

“Oh, fuck no,” Katsuki mutters, rushing to block the guy immediately. There’s no fucking way he’s falling for that; the guy already seems like an asshole in disguise. He must have been someone else Uraraka swiped on when she set him up on this godforsaken app, because lord knows Katsuki hasn’t used it for anything other than messaging Shitty Hair.

As he deletes the guy, Kirishima finally replies.

Kirishima (4:13): ooo, riot rec center looks really cool! it even has a rock climbing wall, that’s so manly! ^.^

Bakugou (4:14): Firstly, what the hell is your obsession with manliness all about? And secondly, Jesus fucking Christ this app sucks, some smarmy bastard just tried to weasel his way into my messages like a goddamn creep.

Kirishima (4:15): well, that is kind of what the app is for, you know? xD messaging and meeting new people... though i guess there are some creepy people on this too sadly :(

Katsuki doesn’t deem this worthy of a response and waits as Kirishima takes his time replying to his other question. He almost bumps into someone else heading in the opposite direction on the path, muttering a vague insult over his shoulder as he stares down at his phone.

Kirishima (4:19): as for your other question, well. it’s not so much ‘manliness’ that i like, but the virtues i believe manliness stands for. bravery, selflessness, integrity, dependability. a life led without regret. i used to be kind of a coward when i was younger, and i didn’t really like myself that much if i’m honest. but one day i decided that that’s not who i am in my heart. and so i try my best everyday to work towards becoming the man i want to be! i hope that makes sense :’)

It might be the stupidest thing Katsuki has heard in a long time. And yet, something tugs at his lips until they’re pulled upwards into a smile. He chuckles and shakes his head, unable to deny the feeling of fondness that swells in his chest.

Another text makes his phone buzz in his hand.

Kirishima (4:19): speaking of having no regrets! since you seem to hate the app so much, why don’t we exchange numbers? :3

It’s followed by Kirishima’s own phone number, which makes Katsuki scoff. There’s no way he’s giving out his damn number to the guy.

Bakugou (4:20): You’re an idiot, and no, you can’t have my phone number. But your ridiculous speech about the virtues of manliness did somehow make sense, Shitty Hair.

The two continue to talk as Katsuki makes his way through the park. Out of the corner of his eye, something bright catches his attention while he’s chatting with Kirishima. It’s a small flower bush with blooming red petals that almost look like leaves. It’s rather vibrant, and the way they stick out at all angles instantly reminds Katsuki of Kirishima’s hair in his profile picture.

Without even thinking, he takes a photo of the flowers and sends them to the other boy.

Bakugou (4:25): They’re red and spiky like your stupid hair.

Kirishima (4:25): aww, you are just a secret romantic, aren’t you katsuki! taking pictures of flowers that remind you of me :’D i’m flattered!

Katsuki rolls his eyes and calls him an idiot again, then changes the subject. He just thought the flowers looked nice.

He stops by the grocery store and buys himself some actual food on the way home, messaging Shitty Hair periodically as he does so. The same strange part of him that made him take the long way home through the park today feels motivated enough to cook dinner for himself tonight as well. Katsuki hasn’t felt like doing either of those things in weeks, but he’s not going to question it now.

Kirishima (4:39): okay but, you weren’t there, he was like a REALLY BIG octopus, i swear! >.<

Just like he’s not going to question the fact that a stranger he’s only been texting for four days can make him smile with the most ridiculous things.

#kiribaku #bakushima #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #bnha #mha #boku no hero acadmia #my hero academia #armadillos can write #my fanfic #do not ask me how i am managing to stay motivated enough to write this bc honestly it's a miracle

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harperthejay · 6 years

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Emerald Oceans, Chapter 1

March 15th, 2015. Los Angeles, CA

His whole life, Andy had never imagined that his son, out of all the troublemakers and punks in the world, would get so much as a detention, let alone suspension. It was only for a single day, but that was more trouble than he’d ever been in before. And for what? Fighting, of all things! Andy and Charlotte raised their children better than that. Or at least, that’s what Andy thought to himself as he sat in his recliner, staring at the wall, mulling over what Charlotte was going to say when she got home.

Oh, god. He could already imagine the look on her face when he told her. She was going to cry. He could just feel it. He hated to see her cry, especially when there was nothing he could do to make it right. This wasn’t something he could fix, not right away. She’d be inconsolable until their son was back in school, back on track. Until then, as long as he was home, she’d be a wreck.

"Dad! Can I, like, come down now?“ The voice of a very bored and annoyed teenager interrupted Andy’s thoughts. "I’m starving to death up here!”

"What did I tell you earlier?! You can come down when your mother gets home and we can talk about this as a family!“ His voice came out much louder than he had meant it to. The stress was starting to wear at him, and he felt frayed at the ends. "Until then, you just .. think about what you did!” Now he was starting to sound like his own old man, overused clichés and all.

"Can you at least plug the router back in?“

Despite himself, a small smile crept on to Andy’s face. He had to admire the kid’s tenacity, as much as it was getting on his nerves. "What do you think?” This time, his voice was a bit more calm, not quite so angry.

Nevertheless, the bedroom door upstairs slammed loudly in response, and he could hear a few of the hanging pictures in the hall shake. Before he could yell something about doors being a privilege and not a right, there was a knock at the front one, a rhythmic tapping that he was 90% certain was the first ten beats of “Funky Town”.

Who the hell is that? he thought to himself as he sat in his seat for a moment. Nobody comes over without calling anymore, and Mormons don’t usually tap out 80’s one hit wonders. He found himself unreasonably annoyed that somebody was making him leave the comfort of his recliner, even as he began to quietly sing, "Gotta make a move to a town that’s right for me..”

When Andy opened the door, he saw a finely dressed man on the other side; he was wearing a pressed dark navy suit, with a black shirt, and a white tie-and-pocket-square combo. He looked out of place, standing on the front step of Andy and Charlotte’s suburban home, but the smile on his face was disarming. After gawking at the sharp dressed man for just long enough to make himself feel uncomfortable, Andy cleared his throat and spoke. “Good afternoon, sir, how can I help you?”

"Hello there, my good man! I was wondering if I might have a moment of your time.“ The man never let his smile waver as he spoke, and Andy couldn’t tell if it was still comforting, or if it had become a touch disturbing. "You see, I hear that our two boys got in a bit of a scuffle today, and I thought we could nip this in the bud before it gets too far out of hand.”

Suddenly, Andy was flush with embarrassment. He should have recognized the kid’s father, after all, shouldn’t he? Then again, he’d never met the kid’s father, so how could he know what he looked like? “Yeah of course, come on in, mister -” Shit. What’s the kid’s name? “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.” A sigh of defeat wafted out of him and he stepped to the side, opening the door open all the way and waving the man in.

And still, the dapper man’s smile remained, continuing to sit on the fence between charming and alarming. “Oh, it’s quite alright, Mr. Richardson.” That this guy knew Andy’s name only added to his shame, and he could feel his cheeks darkening red once more. They both stepped into the foyer of the modest-but-respectable three bedroom, two-story home. “Call me Daniel. And my son’s name is Neal.” Daniel stood in the foyer and surveyed what he could see, and suddenly Andy felt anxious. That suit probably cost more than their furniture. Without hesitation, as if he could feel Andy’s nerves, Daniel turned to him and reassuringly said, “You have a lovely home, Mr. Richardson.”

"Thank you. You wanna sit down?“ Andy led him into the living room and motioned toward the couch. "My wife should be home any minute now. Could I get you something to drink?”

"Nothing to drink, thank you, but you are very kind to offer, Mr. Richardson. I don’t think I’ll be staying over long, sadly, only long enough to sort this all out.“ As he spoke, he moved toward the couch and let himself slide gracefully into a seated position.

From anyone else’s mouth, that might have sounded like something akin to a threat, like perhaps he was going to rough up Andy or yell at his son. But coming from Daniel, it sounded like an earnest attempt to mend a broken fence, and something about it soothed the last of Andy’s nerves, calming him enough to reclaim his seat in his recliner. "Well, that’s very nice of you, Daniel. Like I said, Charlotte should be home any time, so-”

"Would you mind terribly if I were to talk to the boy now?“ An apologetic look spread across Daniel’s impeccable features. "I’m very sorry, Mr. Richardson, but I have a very busy afternoon scheduled and I’m afraid I only have a limited window for this conversation to happen.”

"Well, I suppose.“ He could handle this, couldn’t he? It would have been nice for Charlotte to meet this kind man, but he did hate to keep him waiting. "Maybe she’ll get home before you take off and you can meet her. You’ll love her, she’s wonderful.”

"Excellent!“ Daniel’s eyes seemed alight with glee, and for the first time, Andy noticed how green they were. They almost sparkled, like an emerald, or some strange ocean. It brought a warm feeling over him, to please Daniel so much with such a simple thing as agreeing to his request, and he found himself staring at the gentleman’s face even as he called for his son to join them in the living room.

After an eon or two of waiting, the sound of plodding, dragging footsteps trailed down the stairs and into the foyer, then finally to the living room itself. Daniel was looking up at the teenager, who seemed too angst-ridden to live, with the same grin and sparkling eyes that had enamored his father. The boy, however, didn’t seem quite as impressed. There was no joy lost in Daniel’s eyes, however, as he spoke. "Hi there, sport! You must be young Timothy, is that right?”

"Yeah. Who the hell are you?“ Timothy’s response poured out of his mouth like a slug, lazy and full of disinterest.

"Tim!” Andy snapped at son, finally tearing his attention away from those emerald oceans long enough to shoot a glare at Timothy. “Be polite! You’re in enough trouble as it is, young man. This is Daniel, Neal’s father. He came over to make things alright between you boys.” As if to punctuate the statement, Daniel nodded and slowly stood up from the couch.

Timothy’s disinterest was, for the moment, tempered by confusion, and it overtook his face. “Neal’s dad ditched him when he was in the second grade. And his name was David, not Daniel.”

"Watch it, mister. The ice you’re standing on right now is so thin that-“

"No, no, Mr. Richardson, the boy is quite right.” Suddenly, the smile on the gentleman’s face seemed a lot more calculated, even sinister, although it hadn’t actually changed at all. “I’m afraid I’ve put up a bit of a ruse, my poor man.” His hand slipped inside his jacket pocket as Timothy looked on in a lost haze, and Andy’s palms began sweating. Those green eyes, only moments before evoking jewels and tranquility, now seemed to be portals into another realm, full of fire and thorns and emptiness.

"But, as they say…“

They were so bright, in fact, that now a green glimmer shined off the barrel of the .357 revolver that was now cradled in ‘Daniel’s’ hand.

"The jig is up.”

#emerald oceans #writing #fiction #fantasy #sci fi #sci fi & fantasy

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awakeningofthedeath · 6 years

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Awakening of the Death Chapter #10

First Chapter Previous chapter Next Chapter

Jack returned to the apartments where he took Hellen to her room and laid her upon the bed. She was still holding the table cloth, and noticed that she fell asleep in his arms minutes before. Jack went over to Hellen’s presser and pulled out a long sleeve shirt that looked loose enough for her to sleep in. He went back to the bed and sat next to her, with her back towards him. Jack didn’t want Hellen to lay half naked in shame, yet he never wanted to invade her territory of privacy.

Still facing Hellen’s back, Jack gently lifted her body, the tablecloth slipped down; yet Jack had to focus on something to keep his focus. He noticed Hellen’s left ear, and decided to look upon that as he helped her get into a shirt. His stomach sank as he noticed how torn it was, with small long white scars in the back as if an animal tied biting her. When he finished putting on her shirt, Jack laid her upon the pillow, his hand supporting her head. Yet as he looked upon her. Jack hated seeing a strong woman like Hellen being broken and realized she had always been broken just from since her father, Jeremiah's death.

As he moved his hand away from underneath, Jack traced the torn ear with his two fingers, feeling the rough edges. But the feeling must of caused Hellen great alertness as she stood upward and alert as she punched Jack in the face, breathing heavily.

“What the hell ere you doing?” Hellen screamed.

Jack rubbed his cheek where Hellen punched him. He looked up to say “I was only hel...”

“Just because you took me out of that hellish nightmare don’t give you the damn right to try and fuck me...” Hellen’s eyes watered with hot tears again. She rubbed them quickly.

Jack tried to talk to her but she refused but throwing a book at him. "Stay away from me!" Jack dodged the book and looked at Hellen. He only nodded and left the room. When after he shut the door, he heard the door being locked from Hellen’s side.

Jack lowered himself to the floor and rubbed his face. He thought about the days events, and what had almost happened to her. He clearly understood the phycological hell that she was possibly facing now. A feeling Jack knew too well. As he opened his eyes, Jack noticed a trail of red across his chest. Blood trailed out from his torn jacket exposing his chest, showing a long thin would that he must of received from Johnathan when fighting him off from Hellen. As Jack removed his jacket and cleaned his wounds, he understood why he felt Hellen’s pain inside out. He remembered the feeling of her hot salty tears streaming together into his wound as blood came pouring out slowly, merging into a river of sorrow of blood in the tears of two broken souls. As Jack looked at his hands, he vowed to himself that he would not go near her unless she requests to, or completely necessary.

The following days were long and hard for Hellen, for Jack would try to get her to come out of her room, only to have her yelling at him to leave. Still, he would leave food for her, to his relief she would always take it and leave the dishes out. She would occasionally come out to clean up and use the lavatory, but barely talked to Jack but only two words.

As for the jacket and the laundry, he took the bundle of clothes to the wash lady few doors down, and when she saw his torn jacket, she insisted that she’d repair it free of charge. When Jack mentioned that he didn’t had other clothes, she lended him some of her son’s clothes that he never used anymore. “White has always been an appalling color to him.” She told Jack. “I think it makes a man look pure and intimidating if you ask me.” She took a sniff of his jacket, the woman almost gagged. “Merciful Lord above, when was the last you washed this? No matter, I’ll be washing it anyway dear. Please give my love to that lassie of yours. The poor thing, I could only imagine what hell she went through.”

When Jack tried on the jacket, he looked upon the mirror to see that the shirt really did made him intimidating, helping him sculpt his body, and was surprisingly light on him. It even made his skin look more tan standing out against the white cotton.

Wonder if Hellen would like it? He thought as he touched the mirror.

One day however, Jack notice Hellen didn't came out from her room to get the dishes of food he left for her. Concerned, Jack knocked on the door, he didn't hear Hellen saying anything, but he was sure Hellen heard him. Jack feeling something is wrong with her. He lightly turned the handle, only to find it still locked. So he climb up the roof from the outside and went to her window to open it, and he did with success.

He found Hellen was sleep at her bed. She covering all her body with a heavy blanket. Jack walk close to her, he saw her face is very red and sweaty; Her breathing labored. He put his hand to her forehead. The skin was so hot that it heated his fingers inches away from her skin to his. Hellen was in a high fever.

Jack clenched his fist. That damn freak! Hellen didn’t deserve this! It was clear that Hellen was in high stressed, she must of gotten sick over the week since the attempted rape.

He found the skeleton key that opened the bedroom the door and brought a small towel, a bowl filled with icy water, and a glass of water to drink. Jack returned to the room and sat on a stool next to Hellen. He dipped the towel into icy water and compressed to her forehead to reduce her heat, as if tending a sick child in bed. Leading to memories of his mother when she tended to him

Hellen needs some nutrition for fight the virus, Jack was thought. He went to the kitchen and made some hot tea. He brought it back to the room and aided Hellen, trying to get her to drink.

Jack was extremely gentle with her, as he held her head and tried to make Hellen drink the tea. She coughed as the tea nearly choked her. "Easy now, you’ll be fine, Hellen. I got you now." Jack whispering while he tried again to get her to drink. Jack tried again until she drink all of the tea, stroking the auburn hair. It was so soft to the touch as his fingers followed the curves of each curl.

"You need this drink to recover, Hellen. Come on! Don't let me fail you now!" Jack pleaded quietly while he keep hold Hellens head. Hellen groaned; yet she knew she had to drink it. She grabs his hand for support as she drank the remaining tea, feeling his callused hands, gripping into his fingers for dear life as she gazed at him in a feverish look as she fell asleep.

Jack heard someone's knocked the front door. He let go of Hellen’s hand and he walk over to open the door. He saw two of men from the Dark Horses standing there, looking bloody from a beating. "What is it...?" Jack ask. "It's David, boss! David! Johnathan’s bother! He came into our headquarters and started killed a couple of our friends there! He was looking for you Jack. Help us!"

Jack clenched his fist. “Damn it” He cursed. “Hold on, I’ll be right there, keep the men away from him and the locals inside their homes.”

He back inside to grab his hidden blade and a few knifes. He saw Hellen asleep in the bed still. He covering her with a blanket and stroke hr cheek feeling the heat of her head. "I will be back before nightfall." He leave a some of bread on bed side table in case if Hellen hungry. Then he took his robes from when the laundry lady repaired it and ran to the headquarters.

David was screaming a war cry as he killed another member of the Dark Horses, his hands, chest, and face was covered in blood. He killed two of rooks with a force vengeance as they tried to restrain him in vain.

"Where is your boss now huh?” He yelled. “Tell me where he is! I challenge him to a fight!" His eyes were full of rage and revenge. Other members tried to stop him; but he would kill them off. He grabbed a young woman who was a member, turned her back to his chest and placed his knife to her throat. "I will give you more 5 minutes, if you cannot bring your leader here now, I will kill this bitch! And I will kill every rooks here on every 5 minutes of him being absent!"

Jack watched him from above the rooftop of a building, he took a leap of faith into a haystack and merged himself out.

“Let the girl go. I am here. I will except your challenge.

The woman chocked when David tightened his grip around her “You killed my brother you son of a bitch! I will avenge him now. But he needs a woman! This seems like a candidate for the afterlife bride for him” David move his hand to slice her throat, but before it happen, Jack grabbed his hand. David saw Jack glared at him viciously. Jack twisted his hand to the area which impossible for hand reach, locked his hand from behind. David cried out, feeling the pain, he drop the knife and let lose of the grip on the woman, she stumbled out of the way and looked at amazement as Jack threatens David.

Jack tighten his locked until the bone cracked, David screamed for he couldn’t stand for the pain. He bent down, almost kneel in front of Jack. “Who… Who the hell are you?” David panting, his sweat covered all his face, frightening. Jack only smirk.

Then Jack hit David face so fast and hard, until his body hit the walls behind him. David knocked out. All the members cheered. Two members dragged him away. Jack stood over and spat on David.

The woman who was saved by Jack walk close to him as he started to head back to the apartment. “Thank you, for saving my life, boss” She said in a quiet voice. Jack only nodded as he turned his back, walk away from the crowd, heading back home.

All the members murmured and gossiped on the events that happened as they removed bodies and various items.

“That was amazing!”

“Now I understand why Hellen choose him to stay with her.”

The members captured David, tied him up and brought him to the police station.

When they were finished, the conversation was still the hot topic.The young woman. A lass named Ruth couldn’t stop thinking of Jack.

“He doesn’t talk much I notice, but his act is really amazing.” She told her companion as they headed home. “I think I m falling love with him” Ruth’s companion shush her. “Don’t you dare saying that lass. If this was heard by Hellen, you probably dead by now.” He chuckled as he turned t his house’s door. But this woman, Ruth, was dead serious.

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