#and the way that lucy--who's been so curious about the door from minute one--assures him that he doesn't have to do this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

howtosingit · 3 years

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Fic: don’t wanna lose me, don’t wanna lose you

Carlos drives TK home after their date.

A missing moment from 1x03.

1.7K | Also on AO3

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They’re both quiet in the car on the way back to TK’s place, letting the music on the radio fill the otherwise silent space between them.

Carlos isn’t really sure what to think. He had been nervous to ask TK out again after the failed dinner at his place, but something about the way the firefighter smiled at him as he left the police station made Carlos want to try again. Their conversation at his desk spoke volumes, with Carlos realizing that TK’s intense reaction hadn’t really been about him at all, but more about his past. TK seemed to be fighting his own demons and instead of scaring Carlos away, it just made him want to suit up and fight by his side.

His mom always said his big, selfless heart was going to destroy him one day. Now, Carlos wonders how she could’ve possibly anticipated TK Strand; he certainly didn’t.

He’d planned a casual date, not wanting to overwhelm TK again. The bar felt public and open enough to keep the other man from feeling cornered, and Carlos knew there would be familiar faces around in case TK needed to escape again.

(Not that he had actually planned for that to happen, but he really had no idea what to expect.)

What he had not anticipated was some kind of work-related falling-out between TK and Judd. The presence of the older man had set TK off the minute they walked in the bar, his body growing tense and guarded as a heated anger seemed to boil right underneath his skin. Carlos had initially been curious to find out what was going on, but after a full 30 minutes of TK only ranting about Judd, his patience had started to wane.

He finally got through to TK, and the rest of their date had been fine. TK was tragically terrible at darts, but his natural competitiveness led them to playing for a full hour. After his sixth loss, TK had begrudgingly admitted defeat, a scowl clouding his beautiful features.

Through it all, they talked. Nothing too deep, just the basic getting-to-know-you stuff: why they picked their jobs, how they felt about their families, and of course, how they discovered they were gay. As he drives, Carlos fondly remembers the ten-minute argument over the best sitcom in history - TK had argued for The Office, while he chose the classic I Love Lucy. The conversation had ended in a draw, through Carlos fully intended to revisit it in the future.

Now, turning onto TK’s street, Carlos wonders if they’ll ever get the chance to argue about TV shows again. It’s not that the quiet between them is awkward - in fact, if not for the fact that the date was kind of all over the place, it would be kind of comfortable. There’s a familiarity to sharing space with TK, like it’s just what he’s meant to do. Except, the date was all over the place, and now Carlos doesn’t know what to make of TK’s silence.

He pulls into the driveway, putting the car in park and switching off the ignition. The music keeps playing, content to continue until one of them opens the door. Carlos briefly glances to his right, watching as TK stares up at the house he shares with his dad. His face is in profile, his sharp features thrown into stunning relief. The firefighter pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, clearly lost in his thoughts, and Carlos wants nothing more than to run his finger along the line of TK’s mouth, to remove the obvious stress that weighs on the other man.

Instead, he folds his hands in his lap, twiddling his thumbs as his heart begins to race. He has no idea what happens next, but he knows it’s TK’s choice to make.

“I had a really good time tonight,” TK says softly a few minutes later, finally breaking the silence. The sentiment is so unexpected and so at odds with the current atmosphere inside the car, that Carlos can’t help but let out a huff of laughter, shaking his head. “What?” TK asks, and Carlos turns to find him wearing a confused expression.

“You don’t have to lie, TK,” Carlos says, leaning back against the headrest as he stares over at the other man. “I’d much rather you just be honest with me.”

“I am being honest,” TK says, his voice firm.

Carlos stares at him for a moment, captivated by the way his blue-green eyes shine in the semi-darkness. “Okay,” he says, giving him a nod.

TK huffs out a breath, his hand coming up to rub at his forehead. Then, seemingly coming to a decision, he looks back towards Carlos, his face set. “Walk me up?” he asks.

Instead of answering, Carlos pulls his keys from the ignition, reaching for the door. The music cuts out as he climbs from the car, circling around to join TK on the passenger side. He’s surprised when the other man leans into his side, wrapping his fingers around Carlos’s bicep as they begin to make their way up the front path.

“I’m sorry,” TK begins, as they climb the few steps up to the porch, “for kind of being all over the place tonight.”

“You don’t have to apologize, TK,” Carlos assures him, stopping in front of the door and turning to face him. “I said I wanted to get to know you, and that means all of you. Even your work drama.”

“Do you really think Judd was right?” TK asks him for the second time this evening, though less aggressive than the first. Carlos stares at him, wondering how to handle the question. “Be honest with me,” TK says, repeating his words from earlier.

“I think,” Carlos starts, choosing his words carefully, “that you and Judd can learn a lot from one another. You’ve both had very different lives, had very different experiences on the job, and you’ve both learned a lot from them. I think if the two of you found a way to be on the same side, you’d be pretty unstoppable together. But,” he continues, a smirk pulling at his lips as he brings a hand up to rest against TK’s cheek, “you both have to lose the hard heads, or you’ll just wind up in a never-ending bullfight.”

He shifts, balling his hand into a fist as he gently knocks it against TK’s skull. TK rolls his eyes as he lets out a laugh, reaching up to grab Carlos’s hand. He lets their joined hands fall between them, linking their fingers together.

“Can I make another observation?” Carlos asks after a moment, his heart pounding in his throat.

TK nods, letting their hands swing gently between them.

“It kind of seems like this move to Texas has been a really big change for you, in a lot of ways,” Carlos says, trying not to sound patronizing. He’s just trying to be realistic about this. “And even without all of the stuff that you left behind in New York, it would be a lot to handle.” He takes a deep breath, working up the nerve to say what they both need to hear. “I’m just not sure I know where I fit into all of that.”

He watches as TK visibly swallows, his eyes moving to look everywhere but directly at Carlos.

“I’m not trying to make a decision for you,” Carlos assures him. “I’m just saying…” he hesitates, trying not to be pushy. TK tightens his grip on Carlos’s hand, a reassuring action. “I guess I’m just saying that there’s no pressure here, with you and me,” he finishes, unsure if he’s made his point clearly.

TK takes a step closer, bringing his free hand up to cup Carlos’s cheek. “I think you’re right,” TK says, his voice gentle between them. “As much as I wish it wasn’t true, my life is… a mess right now. You don’t deserve to have to deal with that.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, TK,” Carlos states defensively, bringing his own hand up to cover TK’s, keeping him close. “I’m not running away from you, that’s not who I am. I would just hate to be someone who adds to the stress when I think we’re both mature enough to avoid it. Does that make sense?”

“It does make sense, even if it sucks,” TK agrees, his eyes somehow growing softer. “I meant it when I said I had a good time tonight. You really do help to pull me out of head, and I need that sometimes.”

Carlos nods. “That doesn’t have to change,” he reminds him. “You have my number, whenever you need it. I’m not running away, TK, and I’ll be here.”

“That sounds a bit like a friendship, Reyes,” TK hedges, stroking his thumb against Carlos’s cheek; he feels his skin heat up under TK’s touch.

“It can be, if that’s what you want,” Carlos assures him, turning his head to press a kiss to TK’s palm before dropping their hands between them. “You should know, though, that if we’re going to do this, you have to watch I Love Lucy reruns with me. I have friendship standards, Strand, and that’s a non-negotiable requirement,” he jokes.

TK ducks his head, laughing as he steps back, letting their hands finally disconnect. They stand before one another, two men separated by a harsh wall of reality and bad-timing.

“I like the sound of that,” TK whispers, a smile softening the resignation in his voice.

They stare at one another for a moment, letting their decision envelop them. A part of Carlos aches to reach out and touch TK; he knows that, after tonight, he might not get the chance to hold him again. But, a larger part of him knows that they’ve made the right choice, so he can’t regret it. This is for the best.

“I should go,” he finally says, digging his hands into his pockets to keep them away from TK. He turns, stepping off the porch and onto the front path.

“Good night, Carlos,” TK says, his voice carrying easily through the still night air. Carlos pauses, turning back to give him a wave.

“Good night, TK,” he says back, a forced smile on his lips.

It’ll get easier, he thinks, as he turns to keep walking.

He knows it will.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #tarlos missing moments collection

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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

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Thunder - Chapter 3: Humidity

summary: Frankie, Luciana, and the boys head to a bar for the night, where the boys get a little too drunk and the other two start to give into rising tensions.

warnings: drunkenness, sexual themes

rating: R

word count: 3.789k

masterlist

chapter 3: humidity

Frankie may not like parties, but he’s always game for a good night at their local bar. Mulligan’s has been the home of many of Frankie’s favorite memories—especially the wilder ones. Of course, he’s never the one at the center of the action. His memories come from his perspective standing at the bar or in a corner, laughing at either Benny or Santiago making an idiot of themselves. Many of those memories come along with Luciana’s laughter in the background, whether she’s standing next to him or joining in the fun. Luciana will let herself be a little looser at bars than at parties, and Frankie doesn’t mind. She never lets herself get out of control.

Luciana’s gone out with her friends outside of the group a few times before, but Frankie never usually caught her leaving or coming back. She’s confessed something about it to him before: she wears different clothing when she’s with the girls, because it’s a different kind of experience. With the guys, she’s not out to impress anybody. With the girls, anything’s fair game.

This has stuck in Frankie’s mind for a reason he refuses to acknowledge.

But now, he’s curious—because Luciana’s coming into the kitchen where everyone’s gathering, and she’s wearing something Frankie would consider to be in her “with the girls” wardrobe. She has a deep v-neck lavender-colored shirt on that hugs to her body and crops just above the waistband of the cut-off denim shorts that are much shorter than anything Frankie remembers seeing her in. He tries not to make his studying of her too obvious, but he can’t help it. He’s not judging—he’s admiring. It’s showing off things Frankie never paid much attention to before. It’s not helping with everything he’s trying to keep buried within.

So, why is she wearing it?

Frankie assumes that Luciana’s probably meeting up with her girl friends at the bar. He feels slightly disappointed at the thought of it, wishing they could stand together and make fun of their idiotic friends, but he also wants her to do whatever she wants to. Frankie wouldn’t hold her back. He could try to keep up with the not-as-drunk-but-still-shitfaced Tom and Will—or stand in the corner on his own. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life he’s done that, and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

“Frankie?” Luciana’s voice suddenly snaps Frankie out of his thoughts, and he blinks a few times before looking to the source. She’s standing a few steps away from him, waving her hand gently under the brim of his hat. “You awake? The night hasn’t even started yet.”

Frankie chuckles, tucking his thoughts away as he focuses on her amused yet concerned gaze. He makes an obvious point to look there and not anywhere else—specifically the assets she has on display. He wouldn’t want to disrespect her. “I’m—yeah, sorry,” Frankie manages to finally answer, watching as Luciana lifts a doubtful eyebrow. “Just thinkin’.”

“About what?” Luciana presses curiously. Her brow then furrows into further concern, and she looks around to make sure the boys are properly distracted before taking a step closer to Frankie. “Are you okay? Do you need to talk?”

Frankie gives her a reassuring smile, feeling a warmth in his chest at her eagerness to comfort him. “I’m alright, Luce,” he assures her softly. “It wasn’t anything bad. I just…” Frankie sighs, trying to find the right words to be honest with her, “… I was wondering if you were meeting up with your other friends.”

Luciana’s face relaxes, and she shakes her head at him as she steps away. “No, we weren’t planning on it. Why?”

Frankie hesitates, trying to think of an excuse quickly. “I—.”

“You’d really miss me that much, Flyboy?” Luciana chuckles, an amused twinkle sparkling in her eye. Frankie nearly breathes a sigh of relief.

“Don’t flatter yourself like that, Luci,” Frankie jokingly scoffs, earning a punch to the shoulder. “Maybe I was hoping I’d get some time away from you.”

“You fucking asshole,” Luciana curses, pushing him backwards a bit as she laughs. Frankie also laughs gently but keeps an eye out to make sure no one’s witnessing the exchange actively. He’s satisfied to see Tom, Will, and Benny lost in their own conversation. Thankfully, Santiago’s usually the last one to come downstairs—who knows how long it takes him to gel his hair just right and put on his four layers of cologne—and so he doesn’t have to worry about increasing his suspicions.

As if on cue, Santiago walks into the kitchen, and everyone grumbles with divine-directed gratitude as they start to file out the door. The bar is on the other side of the street from the dive, and so they all decide to walk there. It’s safer for everyone and it allows them to drink as much as they want. For Frankie, the latter incentive doesn’t factor, but he doesn’t mind the walking; it always calms him.

That is, until he realizes how humid it is. It’s been a little over a week since their last storm, and Frankie wonders if the spring’s about to bring them another one. He even has to undo an extra two buttons on his tropical-printed shirt to allow himself more room to breathe. Sweat has already started to coat everyone’s foreheads, but it remains ignored as the group makes casual conversation.

Once they get to Mulligan’s, the usual routine starts to run. Frankie holds on to his reliable bottle of lite beer while the others down shots to get started. Luciana even joins in with them, and Frankie has to hide his smile at the sight of her having fun with them. He also has to swallow back the way he feels upon seeing her take them so powerfully, as if they don’t affect her at all. She’s even tougher than her brother. Frankie likes tough.

He shakes his head, looking down into his bottle. Frankie has no idea what he’s looking for. Or at least, he wishes he didn’t.

Frankie only looks back up when he feels a hand on his shoulder, and he meets Luciana’s sparkling gaze right away. “You should take one, Frankie!” Luciana encourages him, raising her voice over the hum of the bar’s many guests and the music playing much louder than it probably should.

He laughs and gives his head a shake. “You know me, Luce,” he responds, also having to raise his voice. “That’s not my thing.”

“Just one!” Luciana pushes, giving him a small smile. “I won’t make you do it if you don’t want to, but if you do, you’d only have to do one!”

Frankie sighs softly, searching Luciana’s gaze for a moment. It’s full of such fun, excitement, and hope—hope that Frankie will at least try to take a part in all of that, too. He doesn’t want to let her down. Plus, it’s not like he’s never done a shot before. Maybe he could use a little change. “Alright,” Frankie finally agrees, causing Luciana to whoop in delight. “Hit me with it.”

Luciana leads him closer to where the boys are still going, and they give a loud cheer as Frankie approaches. He tries to keep the heat away from his cheeks, putting his beer bottle onto the bar as he accepts one of the shots that’s sitting there. Before he takes it, Frankie looks over at Luciana, throwing her a wink that he wishes was more confident as he throws his head back and lets the alcohol burn down his throat. He scrunches his nose upon identifying the liquor as tequila. He thought it would’ve been vodka.

“What a fuckin’ legend, Fish!” Benny hollers from behind him, grabbing him by the shoulders and giving his body a few shakes. Frankie laughs at his friend’s dramatic reaction, tipping his hat on his head as he reaches for his beer bottle again. “I bet you could do, like, ten of those in a minute.”

“I probably could,” Frankie agrees, placing his hand on Benny’s shoulder. “But then I’d be dead.”

Benny laughs—harder than he probably should, but Frankie knows his liquor’s already kicking in—and steps away from Frankie. “You’re hilarious, man.”

Frankie shrugs, taking a swig from his bottle as he stays on the outskirts of the group. He watches and rarely comments as they dare each other to drink more or try their luck with girls, witnessing as they slip further and further out of sobriety and start to gravitate towards the livelier part of the bar. Mulligan’s has a larger space left for dancing than most bars, which is part of the reason why the group loves it so much. Frankie’s never partaken in that. He hasn’t wanted to.

Frankie watches as his friends lose themselves in the crowd, some staying together while some split off and find some pretty thing to dance up on. That’s their way of relaxing, enjoying life, and de-stressing. Frankie has other ways, like watching his friends have fun and taking solitary walks. He can’t be as open as they are because he’s closed himself off. Frankie used to be funny and hyper. And then life caught up to him—it surpassed him.

He still hasn’t caught back up to it.

The only thing grounding him has been people like Santiago, Luciana, and the boys. His shell protects him from experiencing any further damage, but he lets them see underneath it. They understand it. They don’t try to peel it away. So, when Frankie stands here and watches his friends dance the night away like he might’ve had life been different, he doesn’t feel left out or sad. He feels… relieved. At peace. Happy that his friends won’t make him feel like he should be doing something he doesn’t want to.

But then Luciana gives his arm a tug, and he looks over to see her glancing up at him with that sparkle in her eyes—and he knows she’s about to ask him something out of the ordinary. It doesn’t anger him, though, or make him uncomfortable. He trusts her. “I love this song,” she tells him, and Frankie tunes in to hear “You Shook Me All Night Long” by AC/DC playing through the speakers. “Will you dance with me?”

Frankie’s eyes widen a bit. “Luce, I… you know I’m not—.”

“I’ll guide you,” Luciana insists. Frankie knows she’s more buzzed than usual—he can tell by the glossier texture of her eyes. But she’s still partially sober. She’s conscious of what she’s doing. And that makes him question things. “Don’t be scared.” Luciana reaches to ease Frankie’s nearly empty bottle onto the bar, taking his hand and gently pulling him in the direction of the dance floor.

“Luci, what about your brother?” Frankie starts to panic. “If he sees us, my ass is grass.” There’s a million other things going through his head right now, and he’s not sure what to do about it. His brain’s screaming at him to remove himself from this situation and think off on his own, but his heart’s telling him to enjoy this moment—like he might’ve used to.

“He’s absolutely hammered and completely invested in that blonde chick over there.” Luciana jerks her head on the opposite side of the dance floor, where Frankie observes Santiago practically falling onto the blonde who’s dancing on him. He lets out a sigh, looking back to see Luciana’s hopeful gaze.

“Alright. I’ll… uh, try.” Frankie often finds himself lacking confidence, but he’s never felt less confident about anything than he does about this. Dancing—with a girl, even if it’s one of his closest friends—is definitely not his strong point. Frankie can feel how stiff he is as he attempts to move in sync with Luciana, who’s easily able to move her body to the beat in ways that have him feeling a little dizzy. All she’s doing is standing right in front of him, and his heart’s beginning to race.

It doesn’t take long for Luciana to pick up on his rigidity, and she lets out a soft laugh as she places her hands on his shoulders. “Hey, it’s alright, Frankie,” she soothes, and Frankie can feel some of the tension roll off his shoulders at her touch. He nearly feels numb when her hands move to his hat, flipping it around on his head so that the brim’s backwards. She then places her hands on the sides of his face to pull his forehead to hers, forcing him to look into her faded yet lively brown gaze. “Relax. It’s just me—just us. Move with me.”

Frankie tries to keep himself from trembling at this odd yet comfortable moment of intimacy. He watches as Luciana releases Frankie’s face and lets them separate again. She turns around so that he’s facing her back, and she looks over her shoulder as she moves to the rhythm of the classic tune. Frankie attempts to mimic her in a masculine way, trying to drown out the rest of the crowd so that he’s only thinking of himself and Luciana. He doesn’t want to share this moment with anybody else, and if he starts thinking of the other people present, he’ll lose the tiny shred of confidence Luciana’s attempting to give him.

The rest of the bar truly disappears the moment Luciana brings herself closer to Frankie, eliminating the gap between them until she’s right up against him. With every movement, she’s brushing up against him, and Frankie’s sure now that it’s not just the exercise of the dancing that’s making his heart beat out of his chest. He doesn’t know what to do—where to look, how to act—and he feels frozen again. Luciana senses this, and Frankie hears her release another chuckle. She reaches over her shoulder with one arm to capture the side of his neck, bringing his ear to her lips as she reassures him. “It’s alright, Frankie.” Luciana pauses, using her free hand to take one of Frankie’s and gently ease it onto her waist. “You can touch me.”

Frankie swallows back his hesitance and does what she says. He lets his other hand meet her waist as well, and soon his grip on her becomes firmer. It feels natural to him. Frankie swelters in the heat of the moment as Luciana leaves her hand on his neck, her lips instead beginning to brush over the perspiring skin of his neck as they keep moving together. He never would’ve expected something like this to feel so right, as if that line between friendship and something more has been blurred for a lifetime. He never would’ve expected he’d be looking down at her like this, admiring the way she moves against his body. He never would’ve expected to be eyeing the way her shorts ride up and reveal more of the assets he’d tried to ignore before, or the view he has down her shirt from this angle.

But what Frankie truly never expected was the way she turns herself around so that her chest is pressed against his, unfastening one more of his buttons before she firmly brushes a hand over the skin there. She’s reciprocating. And that insecure part of Frankie wants to tell himself it’s because she’s had too much to drink or that those shots hit her harder than usual. But he knows that’s not true. He can look into her eyes and see that she’s still there, maybe not completely sober but still entirely aware of what’s happening. Frankie’s always thought she was beautiful—in a way he couldn’t match. He knew that one day, she’d fall into the arms of a man who was equally as attractive. Instead, out of all the people surrounding them at the bar, she’s chosen to dance with him, to give him all of her attention, to make him feel as if he’s the only person in her world.

He can’t process that. Frankie doesn’t make himself process it.

He absorbs the moment he’s in now, losing himself in her gaze as his hands draw her waist even closer to him. Frankie feels bolder now than he ever has before, and he clings to that shred of confidence Luciana’s actions have brought him. He even lets his touch fall a little lower, getting closer to the fringe of her cut-off shorts. Still, Frankie hesitates, wanting to make sure Luciana consents with everything he’s doing. Once he earns a small nod, he lets his hands fall farther, until the soft skin peeking out from under her shorts is brushing against his palms.

The temperature of the bar rises even more now, especially as Frankie hears Luciana release a pleasured sigh at the feeling of his hands against her. Her hands that have come around his neck give the hair peeking out from under his hat a tug, and Frankie tries to bite back a pleasant grunt as his grip on her tightens in response. Luciana draws herself even closer to him, her hands easing his head back down until her lips are brushing against his ear.

“Frankie,” Luciana’s soft voice begins, the tone balancing between something kind and something sensual. It drives Frankie crazy to hear her say his name in such a way. “Has anyone ever told you…” she pauses for a moment, sliding one of her hands onto the skin of his chest and rubbing over it, “…how sexy you are?”

Frankie almost chokes upon hearing the words, but instead he ends up releasing a growl as her one hand grips his hair yet again. He tightens his grasp on her ass in a way that he’s sure will leave marks for at least a few minutes, causing Luciana to hide her face in his shirt-covered shoulder as she releases a half-gasp, half-moan. Frankie doesn’t know whether to blame the liquor or some instinct deep within for the full confidence he’s now gained, especially as he whispers back in her ear. “I only want to hear you say it,” he states lowly, almost like a demand. “As many times as you want to.”

Luciana lifts her face from his shoulder, her eyes darkened so much that they’re almost black. She bats her lashes up at him, and Frankie feels a bead of sweat drip down the side of his head. “I’ll say it as much as you want me to,” she assures him, her hand running over his chest once again before she secures it to the back of his neck. Her eyelids then flutter closed, as if she’s placing herself into a daydream. Frankie brushes his thumbs over the mixture of skin and denim he’s holding in his grasp, causing her to wince in delight as she hides her face in his shoulder again. “Fuck, Frankie.”

“I know,” Frankie assures her, his lips brushing against her ear in the haze of it all. Her body has never stopped moving against his, no matter how firm his grip’s gotten or how many times they’ve spoken to each other—and it’s put Frankie in a daze. This shouldn’t feel so right. This is something Frankie didn’t even know he had buried deep within him. This is an admiration for one of his closest friends that he never knew existed—or at least, that he attempted to keep under lock and key. Now, it’s loose, and Frankie doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to put it back in its cage again.

And then, just as suddenly as the long moment began, it ends. Luciana turns her head rapidly to the side, and Frankie follows her stare to see her brother and the other guys starting to head back in their direction. They separate quickly upon noticing that, and neither one of them speak as they help the stumbling men get back to the house safely.

The whole way there, Frankie can still feel himself buzzing from the excitement of what he and Luciana just shared. At the same time, he can’t stop worrying about it. Things have to change now. They can’t deny the way they just acted with each other, the things they just revealed without even having to say the words. What’s brewing between them goes deeper than friendship—even deeper than the plain admiration Frankie thought he held for Luciana, and vice versa. This was more than a “date” for milkshakes at the dive. This was more than a night spent in Frankie’s truck eating pizza and listening to classic rock. This was touching, and gasping, and confessing, and bringing each other to a feeling that’s not easy to come back from. Frankie can only hope he hasn’t ruined things for them by giving into these tensions.

He’s afraid he has up until they start to get settled in for the night. When the boys are properly distracted by completely passing out in their beds—though Bennie only made it to the couch, and needed to be dragged up the stairs—Frankie passes Luciana in the hallway and has his arm caught by her hand. He immediately stops, looking her in the eye to see nothing but the same fondness she’d shown him moments before the heat intensified at the bar. Frankie relaxes as he waits for her to speak.

“Thank you, Frankie,” Luciana whispers, trying to make sure the guys—regardless of their states of consciousness—don’t hear what she’s saying, “for such a fun night. I’m glad you loosened up. I had a really good time.”

Frankie ends up biting back a smile at her words, taking a moment to form his own in his head. “I should be thanking you for helping me to loosen up,” he retorts, earning a smile from Luciana. “I had a good time, too—a great time, actually.”

Luciana says nothing, choosing only to widen her smile and give his arm a gentle squeeze before she walks off towards her room. Frankie stares after her for just a moment, letting his eyes soak in that final view of her assets before he disappears inside his own room. He flops onto his bed and releases an airy sigh, staring at the ceiling and letting his smile grow.

Frankie wonders if this is what it feels like to finally fly, because he’s sure his spirits have never risen higher than they have right now.

next part: chapter 4: dark clouds

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @amarvelousmandalorian @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal @domino-oh-damn @thirsty-flygirl @awesomefandomsunited

permanent tag list: @mikahid @theforceofdarkandlight @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @lavenderl3mons @cable-kenobi

#FRANKIE YOU FREAKING !!!!!#them... they...#i am FEELING THINGS #frankie morales #catfish morales #frankie morales fic #catfish morales fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

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fatalezr · 3 years

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Secret State - Part 6

"A new strategic partnership?"

Kate read the screen out loud over Rebecca's shoulder, startling her. She did not realise that her colleague was behind her.

"Sorry, just reading something" Rebecca replied, broken from her thoughts.

"All good," Kate said, "fancy some lunch?"

'Sure" Rebecca said, minimising the Financial Times website she had been looking at, "let me go to the loo first". She took her time walking to the toilet and thinking about the article. The Financial Times had a small article that caught her eye that morning about a senior member of the Cabinet proposing a new strategic alliance between Britain and Russia, to "further and build on the arrangements agreed in last week's energy summit". Details were sketchy but it looked like Russia was asking the UK to withdraw from NATO and sign a comprehensive trade deal that would make it replace the EU and USA as the most important of British allies. Rebecca couldn't quite believe it - was this the end game? Was this what all this was about?

The paper had shown the most senior members of the Government together, the rotund Prime Minister with a blonde mop of hair and a seemingly-clueless look on his face in the centre, flanked by the Chancellor, a tall Asian man, smartly dressed and his foreign secretary, a blonde woman on his right. On his left stood the Home Secretary, a few inches shorter than the Prime Minister and sporting slicked back greying hair with his arm around him, reminiscent of their much publicised childhood together at Eton. The PM had subsequently beaten the Home Secretary in a leadership contest many years later but the two had apparently repaired their relationship. To his left stood the International Trade Minister, a short Asian woman with an apparently fiery temper but who was getting credit for bringing the Russians to the table. Was one of these members involved? These were all questions she needed to ask George, but a break with Kate first would be welcomed.

There was something different about Kate today she noticed, and she saw her colleague had makeup on, including a dark red lipstick. "Is it date night?" she asked her.

"Bec, whenever I go out, it's always date night" Kate replied, winking at her.

Rebecca's interest was piqued. "So who's the lucky guy?"

"Who said it was a guy?" Kate said, before chuckling to herself, "someone new, I'll let you know how it goes".

Rebecca sighed and shook her head. They ate a sandwich and joked together and Rebecca started to relax, the upcoming evening's activities far from her mind. There was some awkwardness as Kate asked about Marcus. Rebecca smiled and said all was well but that the incident at London Bridge had naturally led to a lot of overtime being called on patrols to make sure it did not happen again.

"I found another unexplained body," Kate said, finishing her drink. "Another national security thing, outside that Passion nightclub in Vauxhall" Rebecca's ears pricked - this was another one of hers, the bodyguard of Colonel Umarov. "I asked the Superintendent if we can look into them but I think he's got a new case coming up for us".

"What's it going to be?" Rebecca enquired. She was intrigued to move on from the Mulvaney case and be launched into a new investigation.

"From what I've heard, maybe something to do with corruption," Kate said, "could be an interesting one. I reckon we're finding out about it later". DSI Sullivan had scheduled a meeting for 3pm that afternoon in the conference room with his Detectives - Rebecca suspected this would be the subject.

"They're not turning us into AC-12?" Rebecca joked.

"I doubt it will be that exciting - we leave all the intrigue and shooting to our personal investigations" Kate responded, winking back at her.

------

"As you can see, this is a delicate situation".

Detective Superintendent Sullivan was surveying the stunned looks on the faces of his detectives, Rebecca saw. They all looked lost in thought in their own ways. Kate had her face screwed up and was looking off to the side, Oli Afidi was stroking his newly-grown goatee and Tim Warren sat with his arms folded. Rebecca looked perturbed too, but she suspected in a slightly different way to the others.

"Any questions?" DSI Sullivan added.

DI Warren looked up. "Sir" he said, being respectful to his boss, "may I ask why this investigation is falling to us? Would it not normally be under the purview of the National Crime Agency or even dare I say, the Security Services?"

"It's a valid question" Sullivan responded, "my understanding is there is some concern about how impartial those agencies can be. We're seen as a more....neutral influence. None of us here was a political appointment, therefore we can investigate without prejudice".

Warren nodded and returned to his thoughts. Rebecca was lost in hers too. Sullivan had revealed that the Commissioner was asking them to look into the possibility of corruption within the most senior levels of government. It was a far cry from the criminal underworld they were used to investigating and all of them knew it could be a high-profile investigation with the possibility of great embarrassment if they made a wrong move. Sullivan said the request had come from the Commissioner - hadn't she gone to school with the Chancellor? And what evidence were they launching this based on? Sullivan had only said that serious allegations had been made but was unable to provide more detail. She decided to ask a question.

"Sir, are we expecting to find something? Couldn't this just be a big investigation into nothing at all?"

"I can't say, DC Davidson" Sullivan admitted, "but the Commissioner has asked us to investigate and look into government affairs and so that is what we shall do. We'll do a thorough look at financial records, business dealings and the like and if we find nothing, that's what we shall report".

Rebecca was satisfied by his answer - Sullivan was nothing but fair. However, the timing of it was suspicious given recent activities by the Russian state. She wondered if George knew of this all.

"DI Warren, DI Belmont, I'll let you start work on an investigative strategy" Sullivan said, "we'll reconvene on Friday to discuss".

They both acknowledged his request and he left the room. The team leaned back in their chairs for a few seconds until Tim Warren got up and straightened his suit jacket. "Right," he said, moving to a whiteboard and writing the names of the cabinet ministers across it, "let's begin, shall we..."

------

"Maybe I should leave the two of you in peace?"

Simon Selwick sounded a little unsure. He was not alone as he entered a dressing room in one of his private clubs in Soho that Rebecca was using to get changed. Rebecca checked that the satin robe she had been lent was covering her before looking at the guest who had entered with him.

"Good evening Miss Davidson" George said, "I hope I'm not intruding at an inopportune time".

Rebecca smiled. "It's all OK Simon" she assured the club owner, "I know him". Selwick bowed his head and shut the door while George hung up his coat on a chair and sat on it. Rebecca returned to look in the mirror and carefully styled her hair.

"You look beautiful," George told her.

"Just doing my job" Rebecca replied, trying to make light of the situation. In truth she felt nervous. Who knew what might unfold? She knew that she would be going with Arkady Romanov to Wembley and that at some point he was going to sneak away and she would have to follow him but the lack of detail to the plan made her uneasy. What if there was security? What if they found her spying? She tried to turn her mind away from it and on to other things. "Do you like football, George?"

He chuckled. "I'm a diehard fan of Hartlepool Town, Miss Davidson". He chuckled some more. "I must confess though, you're more likely to find me at the Henley Regatta than on the terraces".

Rebecca smiled. "We got put on a new investigation today" she told him.

"Really?" George sounded curious. "Do tell?"

"We're being asked to investigate the possibility of corruption within the Cabinet".

"You are?" George sounded surprised, "and why are you doing this?"

Rebecca shrugged. "Allegations were made, apparently. Direct orders from the Commissioner this time. You don't know anything about it?"

George frowned. "No, Miss Davidson. Unfortunately not. You say it was a direct order from the Commissioner?" Rebecca nodded and George stroked his chin, thinking hard.

"Did you see the story about the strategic partnership in the FT?" she asked him.

"Yes" he said, "most concerning. Dame Lucy's been trying to get a meeting with the PM but his private secretary doesn't want to take us. I sense they are worried we might go in and spoil the thing. Hear no evil, see no evil, of course".

"Do you think it's all connected?"

"That would be a sensible conclusion, but we must be careful Miss Davidson. I've no idea who might be involved. We must tread carefully at all times". He paused. "Are you going to be armed tonight?" Rebecca nodded. George bit his lip. "Tell me about the plan".

She ran him through the evening. Romanov would pick her up from Simon's club in 30 minutes and take her to Wembley to his own personal executive box. She would watch the game with him and if he moved off, make her excuses to join him. She could note anyone he met and report back at the end of the evening. She paused. How would the evening end? Would Romanov want her to go home with him, and if he did, how would she get her way out? She shrugged it off. She could find a way, she told herself. The main thing that worried her was having no phone with her, no means of communication to the outside world - it was one of Romanov's stipulations that Simon had told her about.

George listened politely. "OK" he said finally, "a good plan". He paused. "Rebecca....be careful, please". There was genuine concern in his voice that she did not recognise. She put down her eyeliner pencil and went over to him and hugged him. He embraced her back and Rebecca realised it was the first time they had ever done that. He broke off and smiled at her. "Remember, give England a cheer for us all, yes?"

"Of course," she said. He stood and put on his coat, giving her one final look before he left. Rebecca took off her robe and admired the new red bra, knickers, suspenders and some dark stockings. She put her gun, her suppressor and a spare magazine of ammunition into her suspenders before donning a black V-necked cocktail dress that fell to just above her knees. It sparkled in the lights from the mirror and gave a tantalising view of her neckline. She looked at the clock. Ten minutes to spare.

She passed the remaining time in silence, taking a final trip to the bathroom and then waiting patiently for the knock at the door from Simon Selwick. It arrived on time and he led her out of the club to a black Mercedes with blacked out windows. A driver opened the back door and she stepped in to see Arkady Romanov wearing a dark blue suit with a white shirt that was open all the way down to his chest. His hair was cut short and he had an untidy but short beard on his face. He smiled as he saw Rebecca, taking her hand to help her into the back seat and then kissing it.

He said some words in Russian to his driver and kept hold of Rebecca's hand as the car pulled away. Rebecca smiled back at him, pretending to enjoy the touch. He did not speak to her during the journey, preferring to spend most of his time looking out of the window and so Rebecca stayed silent too. It was not a quick journey from central London out to Wembley so she allowed herself a chance to let her mind wander and relax. She started to ease into the situation. The car was very comfortable and smooth, and she smiled as she saw the lights of the city all around her. She felt beautiful in her dress and could almost imagine she was on her way to a film premiere or fashion show rather than a football match.

"Is very pretty yes?" Romanov's deep voice cut through her dreams. He was pointing out the front window towards the Wembley arch that was now visible, lit up in brilliant white.

"Yes," Rebecca turned to him and smiled, "yes it is".

"Almost as pretty..as you" he said, finding the right words and she chuckled. She squeezed his hand a bit more and he smiled back at her. "We are close. Stay with me". He gave some more instructions in Russian to the driver. The car wound it's way closer to the stadium and Rebecca looked at the range of fans walking towards the ground, most wearing thick coats or hoodies but with an England jersey clearly visible over the top, some dressed in more neutral colours and even a couple of fans wearing full chain mail and dressed as St George. The car sped past them all and took a turn into an underground parking lot. They were flagged down by a couple of security guards but the driver spoke to them and the car was allowed to continue.

They parked and as they stepped out of the car Rebecca heard the sounds coming from the stadium that was almost on top of them. The music and announcements from the PA system echoed around the walls of the parking lot, as did the chanting of some fans who had arrived for the game. "Come" Romanov offered Rebecca his arm and she gladly accepted it, seeing the driver was staying with the car. Romanov walked her up a flight of stairs and she saw she was now right outside Wembley at a private entrance. She even thought she spied the English and Turkish team buses parked nearby. There was a flash to her side as a photographer took pictures and a young man with a notepad walked up behind the photographer.

"Mr Romanov!" he called, "Mr Romanov! Are you trying to sign Patelli? Is he heading to the Emirates?" He was evidently a journalist.

Romanov chuckled. "Come on England!" he said back to the journalist, raising his arm in a fist and ignoring the question. "Come on England!" he said, this time to Rebecca.

"Come on England!" she repeated and they both laughed. They continued past the journalist and into the stadium. The air outside was cold and Rebecca was grateful for the heat as they entered. They were in an atrium that was packed with smartly-dressed men and women. A waiter wearing white offered them both a glass of champagne and Romanov took two glasses, handing one to Rebecca. She held on to his arm as he walked through the crowd of people, stopping every now and again to shake the hand of someone he knew. Rebecca looked around the crowd - she recognised some people as famous heads of business, there were a couple of actors and a few former footballers in the room too. She kept a tight grip on Romanov as he stopped and said words with a few people in Russian before he laughed and slapped one on the back.

She looked up and saw Romanov nod discreetly to someone at the side of the room. She couldn't quite make out who it was but they were wearing a grey jacket and high-necked jumper underneath. The grey hair looked familiar and as the man moved around the room she caught another glimpse of his sharp face and recognised him - it was Colonel Umarov. Her mind raced. What was he doing here? Hadn't he gone back to Russia? If he was visiting again, it was certainly not on official business.

Romanov weaved through the crowd and to an area with some elevators. They took one up 3 floors and stepped out into a plush but thin corridor that looked more like it belonged in a theatre than a football stadium. The entrances to the executive boxes were every few yards along one side while on the other the windows were full length and glass, showing some of the skyline of London and the buildings around the stadium. Rebecca could hear the chanting from the terraces above and below them. There was movement all around, with guests entering their boxes, the sound of cheering and excitement within them and waitresses moving in and out of the boxes carrying trolleys with food that came from behind a set of double doors she presumed led to a kitchen.

Romanov's box was near the halfway line with a spectacular view of the pitch. There were seats outside for those who wanted to join the crowd but also black leather sofas and a small bar inside the box. As he entered, a group of men already within cheered. Rebecca recognised more faces - some of the young members of the Arsenal team were here, but there were also some older gentlemen she didn't realise who did not rush to greet him. Some of the players hugged him, others gave him a hand but Romanov spoke to them all, some in broken English. "Tony - look after self tonight" he told one boy. "Harry - score me many goal this weekend!" to another. He moved closer to two older men sitting in black suits and shirts and looking uncomfortable in their suits. He spoke softly in Russian to them. One shifted in his seat and as he did so, Rebecca spied a shoulder holster and gun underneath his suit. They were evidently security of some kind and with another older man with greying hair. Rebecca heard Romanov refer to him as Mikhail and the two shook hands warmly before he returned to Rebecca.

He led her to a sofa at the front of the box with a view of the pitch. "Stay here" he told her gently and he grabbed another glass of champagne to give to her. The stadium filled up as it got closer to kick off and the young boys from the box started to put on coats and head to the outside seats, presumably soaking up the atmosphere, most with dreams of playing there and winning trophies at the front of their mind. Romanov returned to her and sat next to her on the sofa, putting his arm around her shoulder. She leaned into his chest, trying to look and feel relaxed about the situation.

There was a large roar from the crowd as both England and Turkey's football teams stepped on to the pitch. Romanov applauded and shouted his approval and Rebecca sneaked a glance behind him to see the man named Mikhail and his security still in place, stony faced and unmoved by the match in front of them. Romanov hummed 'God save the Queen' but did not stand and so Rebecca did not either. She kept thinking about Umarov - it must surely be connected. It was no coincidence that he was here too. She thought about how she could follow Romanov when he excused himself to go to the meeting and wondered who else might be involved. Most likely the man called Mikhail at the back of the room, but what about others? Was Umarov in another box with more members?

The match began and she tried to appear attentive to the game. Romanov seemed invested - his love of football was genuine. He occasionally cried out when there was a chance and threw his arms up in disgust if he noticed a player missing an open pass to someone. He kept putting his arm around Rebecca and looking down at the cleavage she had created. The first half finished with the scores level at 0-0, both teams having largely cancelled one another out.

The younger men outside returned inside to continue laughing and drinking during the interval, some making polite conversation with Romanov as best as they could with them being unable to speak Russian and him not much English. Several gave glances towards Rebecca but she kept quiet and sat next to the man - it was clear to others that she was there with him and she sensed they knew that it meant she was off limits. Waiters came in serving canapes but Rebecca declined to eat - she knew that the meeting would have to take place in the second half and she had a knot in her stomach just thinking about it. She kept trying to glance at Mikhail and his security but they stuck to a fairly rigid position near the bar, the older gentleman occasionally sipping on a pint of beer.

Rebecca glanced at Romanov and saw him checking his watch. He seemed a little restless. She pulled on his arm and he turned to her. "Happy?" she asked him innocently.

"Very happy" he said, smiling back at her, "but must go - stay here".

"You don't want company?" Rebecca said. She subtly reached her free hand and rubbed it across the front of his crotch. She saw his face explode into some pleasure before he eased it away. He considered it for a few moments.

"Maybe walk with?" he suggested. Rebecca nodded. "OK. We walk" he said, standing and helping Rebecca up with him. She watched as he shot a glance in the direction of Mikhail. Romanov left the box with Rebecca as the teams re-emerged for the second half. He held her hand tightly and Rebecca sensed he had some nerves too. He led her back through the atrium area towards the double doors that led to a kitchen and as he did, Mikhail and his two security guards also emerged from the box.

"Arkady," she heard the older man say. His voice was gruff and damaged. Romanov did not hear him and pushed through the doors. It did lead to a stainless steel kitchen where staff in white uniforms were beginning to clean down for the evening. Romanov walked through to a set of doors at the other end. It led to a service corridor of some kind, decked in only concrete with stairs going up and down and a lift that could be used to bring supplies to the kitchen. "Arkady!" Mikhail's voice rang out again as Romanov and Rebecca reached the stairs. Mikhail began speaking in Russian but gesticulating at Rebecca and she guessed from his tone that he did not think it appropriate for her to be joining him.

Romanov replied in Russian, trying to calm Mikhail as they all climbed the stairs. They looped back around on themselves to lead to an upper floor with a couple of black doors on either side. Romanov turned to go through the one to the left but Mikhail put his hand on the door to stop it opening. He stuck his finger in Romanov's face and spoke sharply to him.

"Sorry - must go...alone" Romanov said, turning to her. "Downstair, wait. I come". He kissed her on the cheek before jerking upright to attention and saluting. Rebecca was taken aback but soon noticed why. From the other door emerged Colonel Umarov, flanked by an older man and older woman, all smartly dressed. Two younger male and one female wearing dark suits with white shirts were behind them, looking round and Rebecca noticed they had holsters with guns at the side of their trousers - evidently security for the individuals they were with. The female was particularly imposing at over 6 feet tall with short cropped blonde hair and a mean look in her eye. She kept a gloved hand on the butt of her gun at all times as if ready and expecting to pull it at any moment.

Umarov looked at the group in front of him and nodded. He stepped towards Romanov but then turned sharply to look at Rebecca. She felt herself cower as his bright blue eyes seemed to pierce her and look her up and down. He had an imposing presence and that long face seemed to constantly be in thought but showing no real emotion. Romanov offered him a handshake and some words and Umarov nodded some more. He carried on past the group and opened the door to the room. Rebecca chanced a glance inside and saw it led to a short corridor. Her mind whirred, wondering how to penetrate it. She tried to memorise every detail of Mikhail and the individuals with Umarov. He held the door open as the group filed in and Mikhail opened a purple curtain at the end of the corridor. Rebecca heard him say "Ah, hello sir, good evening" in his rough accent to a person inside. She frowned - why was he speaking in English? Who were they meeting?

She realised that Umarov was still staring at her and now it was his turn to frown. Rebecca wondered if he recognised her from the nightclub Passion. She was sure she looked different and he would only have glimpsed her face that night. She decided to go and started to walk down the stairs when she realised one of Mikhail's security men was walking with her. He had a round face and short hair in a military style. "Hello," she said, smiling at him.

"We go back down," the guard told her. Rebecca nodded. They walked back down the stairs through the kitchen and into the lobby that led to the boxes. Rebecca could hear more chanting from the stands - the game had evidently restarted. She didn't like the way the guard was staying so close to her, as if watching her every move. She spotted the toilets on her left.

"Bathroom?" she said. The guard looked displeased but nodded. Rebecca went into the ladies and shut herself into a cubicle. She needed time to think. She needed to get upstairs again and find a way to either get in the room or find out who was in it. She heard some noises outside the bathroom. There were shouts in Russian. She listened intently. She heard the voice of the guard who had escorted her and another male voice, who sounded like he had been running. Whilst they spoke quickly, Rebecca heard the running one say something that made her heart almost stop beating.

"MI5". It was unmistakable. How did they know?

"MI5?" the guard who had accompanied her said.

"Da" came the reply. Rebecca swore in her head. She was trapped in the bathroom. There was no way out other than the door she came in. She quickly raised her dress and grabbed her Walther P99 and suppressor from the red suspender belt she was wearing. She assembled it as quickly as possible, then took off her shoes, dropped low and crawled out of the cubicle she was in. She disappeared around a corner in the bathroom just as she heard the main door opening.

She heard two sets of footsteps as the guards came in. She chanced a look. They both had guns raised at the cubicle door, long suppressors attached to the end. "Come out - now" one shouted. There was a pause as nothing happened.

Pfft-pfft-pfft, pfft-pfft-pfft. She heard their guns softly fire at the door and a pinging sound as their empty casings hit the tiled floor. They were trying to kill her, she realised, either knowing she was a spy or not caring who she was. She steeled her nerves and swung round the corner from her hiding spot.

Both men were still looking at the cubicle door with it's holes, guns raised. She was behind them both and her gun found the back of the one who had accompanied her. Pfft-pfft. She fired twice into his back and immediately turned to the right to the new guard who had joined him. Pfft-pfft. Both men cried out and slumped to the floor. Rebecca did not hesitate and fired pfft, pfft, into both of their heads before they could react further. There was an "oooh" sound from the terraces and she suspected someone had just come close to scoring.

Rebecca listened intently at the bathroom door to see if anyone was around. She heard nothing and tucked her gun back into the front of her suspender belt, the suppressor warm against her skin. It looked bulky and out of place but she knew it was better than keeping it in her hand. There was an 'out of order' cleaning sign that she spied just inside the door and she left it outside of the bathroom as she exited to the atrium again. She hoped that no-one would need to find them there before she could reach George but Selwick had specifically told her that Romanov never wanted his girls to have a phone with them. She would need to find another way to get a signal to him.

She took a glance towards the lifts. She could probably escape now, she knew. She could get free of the stadium and away before anyone discovered the bodies in the ladies toilets but something made her stop. The mystery of the man that the Russian cabal was meeting was too great to resist. 'What would Kate do?' she asked herself and remembered how her colleague had intentionally got herself kidnapped by Mulvaney's gang earlier that summer. She looked above her and tried to imagine the layout above. The ceiling above her was high - much higher than she had climbed on the stairs. Above the kitchen it was presumably lower as the doors were in a solid wall. She walked into the kitchen. Staff were still cleaning it down. She noticed a food serving hatch to the right of her and followed the path of it up. It seemed to go up - maybe to the room they were meeting in?

"Excuse me" she said to a young woman her own age, "could you tell me where this hatch leads?"

"Oh this" the woman said. She had a thick Cockney accent. "We 'ardly ever use tha', think it goes to some private room that never got finished".

Rebecca nodded. "Does it still work?"

"Don' see why not?" the woman answered, "why you asking?"

"Would you mind sending me up?" The young woman looked at Rebecca like she was crazy. "I'm meant to be giving a surprise entrance," she said. She hitched up her dress a little to show the top of her stockings and leave the woman in no doubt about what kind of surprise she would deliver.

The young woman looked round. A chef in the kitchen nodded. "C'est bon" he said. "We keep ze customer 'appy". Rebecca took care to make sure her dress covered her gun as she got into the hatch. It was a tight squeeze, and she was almost having to curl up in a ball.

"'Ere goes then" said the young woman. She shut the serving hatch and Rebecca was plunged into darkness. She tried to stay calm and breathe. She was not claustrophobic but the tiny space and darkness created a horrible sensation around her. There was a jolt and she felt the hatch move upwards, rattling a little but supporting her weight up. 'This was a really stupid idea' she thought as the hatch clanked. Where would she even find herself?

After what seemed an age but was probably 30 seconds at most the hatch shuddered to a stop. Rebecca breathed deep and listened. She could hear no noise. Her hands eased the hatch open and she welcomed the light and fresher air in with her. She looked out of the hatch. She was in a small empty room for a kitchen that appeared to not be finished, with nothing except some silver work surfaces around her. She slowly maneuvered her way out, her bare feet finding the tiled floor cold. She crept to the door and listened - there was no noise. She eased it open as quietly as possible - the corridor was empty. There were faint sounds from behind the curtain and she tiptoed towards them on the now-carpeted floor, hardly daring to make any noise. She retrieved her gun from her suspenders and gripped it for security. She checked behind herself regularly, certain that security would be on the other side of the door.

As she edged to the door, the voices became louder. She recognised Mikhail's gruff voice. "I'm not sure I can be ready with contracts" he said in English, albeit a thick accented English.

"What's holding them up?" a posh male English voice responded. Rebecca paused - she'd heard that voice before. Where was it from?

"Council - local council" Mikhail said. He sat nearer to her position, Rebecca could tell.

"Leave that to me, I can pull a couple of strings" the English voice responded. "My timeline is set in motion. I've got the support in the party. Just give the word to accelerate and we can do this Igor, let's not delay".

There was a pause before the quiet voice of Colonel Umarov answered. "And your security services?" he said quietly.

"Not an issue" the English voice answered.

"Not even the spy tonight?"

There was a murmuring in the room. "Spy?" Romanov’s voice was recognisable.

“The woman you brought Arkady” Colonel Umarov said coldly and Rebecca felt a pit in her stomach. “Do not worry, I have dealt with this but it raises concerns, Mr Home Secretary”. The penny dropped for Rebecca as to where she knew the voice. The Home Secretary was a regular fixture in parliament and on the television and here he was, behind the curtain, plotting with the Russians.

“I assure you Colonel” the Home Secretary replied calmly, “there is no investigation by MI5 on records currently and if there is a rogue element, it will be stamped out immediately. Gentlemen, my lady” he said, raising his voice, “I will be the future Prime Minister of this country and when I am we shall forge a new European alliance together and rewrite the rules of democracy. Proceed with your plans, Igor. I’ll play my part”.

It sounded like he was leaving and so Rebecca darted quickly and yet softly on the floor back to the abandoned kitchen she had arrived in. She half-closed the door and waited. Sure enough, the slicked back grey hair of the Home Secretary walked past, humming a tune. Rebecca felt a fury and an anger - she gripped her gun tightly and wanted to finish him there and then just as she had to Assistant Commissioner Locke but she stopped herself. Killing an Assistant Commissioner had been one thing, killing the third most powerful member of the government was something else entirely. She thought of a better target - Umarov. It was clear he was orchestrating the plan. Without him it would fail. She could chop the head off the snake, just as her and Kate had done when they killed Kieran Mulvaney.

There were voices from down the corridor in Russian and Rebecca slinked back into the abandoned kitchen. Slowly the members of the cabal filed past the door, with Umarov the last to pass. Rebecca took a deep breath - this was her chance. She eased the door open and stepped into the corridor, gun raised.

“Hey!” A cry came from behind Rebecca and she instinctively fell to her knees and turned around as pfft-pfft, two suppressed shots were fired above her head from a guard emerging from behind the curtain. She turned and fired wildly in his direction pfft-pfft-pfft-pfft. She saw the shots stagger him and he dropped his gun. She took careful aim down the barrel and fired -pfft- into his neck. Rebecca wheeled around but only saw Umarov and the others running, some shouting.

She picked herself off the floor and tried to aim but the door was slammed shut. She raced to it and opened. Pfft-pfft. She fired more in hope than expectation but Umarov was already running up the stairs and her shots missed his back. She started after him but heard footsteps coming the other way and a guard in a suit burst through the door opposite her own. Pfft-pfft-pfft. Her shots downed him but there was another guard behind him. Rebecca aimed and pulled the trigger -click-. The gun magazine was empty.

“Oh fuck” she said and dived for the staircase to her right just as three bullets were sent in her direction. She fell down the first two concrete stairs but used the momentum to push herself up and she ran down them as fast as her bare feet could move, leaping down the stairs. She rounded the corner to the floor where the original kitchen was but kept turning and heading down. Escape was the only thing on her mind. The pain in her feet from the impact of her running was being numbed by the adrenaline. She was literally running for her life. ‘Keep going’ she thought as she rounded on the next floor down. ‘There will be a door at the bottom - keep going!’. She prayed there was a fire escape.

She rounded the next floor down, not stopping as Russian voices shouted from above her, their heavy footsteps falling on the concrete stairs too. The shouts of the crowd watching the game grew louder. There was a stir, then a huge eruption and a cheer that seemed to shake the foundations they were running down. Rebecca was deaf to it. She spotted a ‘1’ written on the wall of the next floor she rounded on. ‘One more!’ she told herself, forcing herself around the corner to the final set of concrete stairs. As it turned, she saw a sign indicating a fire exit. ‘You can do it’ she told herself, wondering if the crowd's shouts and exhilaration was for her own efforts. She leapt the final two steps and looked for the fire exit.

Crack! As she turned Rebecca saw a flash of black and then felt a searing pain. She crashed to the concrete floor, her head throbbing. She looked up to see the blonde security guard from earlier standing over her, gun in hand. She had evidently hidden round the corner and smashed Rebecca with the butt as she arrived. She tried to stand, to do anything to get away but the woman kicked her hard in the stomach. “Aaah!” Rebecca felt herself cry in pain and the air was knocked from her diaphragm. She tried to crawl but her hands could not support her. She looked up at the woman, who pointed her gun at Rebecca, and saw there was no escape.

Rebecca sat up and slowly raised her hands. She got on to her knees and felt fearful. “Ok, ok, I surrender” she said to the woman. The two men who had been chasing her arrived at the bottom of the stairs, panting and cursing. They raised their suppressed weapons at Rebecca. “I surrender” she repeated, keeping her hands high.

The female security guard chuckled. Rebecca watched as she reached into her jacket pocket and brought out a long and menacing suppressor that she screwed on to her own gun. “No surrender” she said to Rebecca calmly.

Rebecca looked to the guards around her and accepted her fate. She was going to die. Images flashed before her. George, Kate, her parents, her brother and her niece, Marcus. She felt a wave of sadness as she thought of them and tried to reassure herself. ‘I’ll see them again’ she told herself, ‘not for a long while though’. The female in front of her had finished attaching her suppressor and aimed it at her. Rebecca summoned all the courage she could. She would not slouch. She rested her hands on her head and kept a good posture. She would die well, she decided. She shut her eyes and waited for the end.

Pfft-pfft.

#silencer hitwoman #hitwoman #femme fatale #female assassin #silent assassin #story #woman gun #killer woman #secretstate

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musedblues · 4 years

Text

Born To Love You [Part: 5]

summary: When Gwilym ropes you into a lie, the truth becomes painfully obvious. When Joe makes things harder, there’s no telling if he even has a clue.

w/c: 5k

a/n: I hear a lot of you wishing and hoping for a happy ending but it's just not coming... yet. I AM sorry in advance. And I'm also in love with everyone who's stuck around so far and said such lovely things. Thanks as always, dears! Can't wait to hear what you lot think of this one 💖

Part 6

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

"Wait, just one second!" Gwilym jogged across the car park, slinging the bag he carried off of his shoulder in a hurry to find it's contents. Simultaneously, he stopped Joe in his meander off the set. Gwilym hoped his friend's slow pace meant he didn't have anything better to do.

"I need you to do me a favor." Gwilym addressed the auburn-haired fellow, close enough by now to bypass standard greetings. Joe nodded, wordlessly accepting whatever it was while Gwilym dug around in his bag until he found what he was looking for.

"Y/n knows I'm off with Ben, but we've got to go a bit earlier than planned. Can you please take these things back to her?" Gwil started, unveiling a much smaller bag full of toddler essentials, some of which you'd be missing if Gwil left town with them.

"Sure thing," Joe agreed, albeit pensively. Gwilym let out a breath and a thank you as he clasped his bag back together, in a rush to see a game with Ben a few towns away.

Ben had invited you on the surprise sports venture, too. But Olive hadn't been easy to handle the past few days. And you knew you'd be spending most of the game toting the kid around the parked cars to keep her whines from upsetting spectators.

Cold rain had come to stay, and your best attempts at keeping the babe from going stir crazy were wearing thin. When there was a knock at the door, you figured Gwilym was there to trade goodbyes with Ben in tow. But no one came hurling in after the polite warning, and you opened the door to find a slightly more pleasant surprise.

"Hi." Joe shrugged, not quite smiling. Seemingly not quite sure why he was there. "Gwil and Ben just left. He wanted me to bring you this." Joe extended the small tote of emergency toys and distractions.

"Oh, thank God." You sighed. The majority of your time spent with Gwilym had usually included trading such things back and forth. You thanked the heavens that Joe was the middle man, taking the bag from his grasp. Inside were two teething toys you'd been missing all day long. You'd give them to Olive as a last-ditch attempt to soothe this evenings lackluster.

But when you glanced down to the babe at your feet, she was using your legs to steady herself as she stood, waving to Joe with a smile on her face. Hardly a trace of her moodiness remained as Joe let his brooding smile bloom into a real genuine one as he waved back to your daughter.

"I just picked up dinner. Let me fix you some?" You suggested, offering without thinking. It was your nature to extend such invitations at times like this one. But everything was always different with Joe. You couldn't tell up from down when he stood just near. And he didn't even try and put up a fight, even though it looked like he wanted to for a nanosecond. He agreed. When Joe stepped past the entrance and into your rented living room, whether he knew it or not, he crossed a very real line.

As you led him toward the kitchen, you rambled only about the things nearly finished cooking in the oven. A mix of veggies you'd never whipped up before. A dish, according to Joe, he'd always wanted to try. You joked for a while about fate, and how everything seemed to always happen for a reason, from dinner plans to trips to London.

When the time came to eat, you noshed between conversation, leafing through topics with ease. You'd done this before, together. And you realized your heart hadn't tried to beat out of your chest the whole time he was near, that afternoon. Because ever since Joe's birthday, you'd never shaken the steady ache for him. You'd settled into the feeling now, and having Joe around was strangely a comfort, his presence aided your pain, now, even though he caused it all the same.

Olive was finally content, for the first time in a week, with the toys you'd finally got your hands on. It wasn't always that you felt fine enough to leave her be in front of the telly, but she was perfectly gratified watching an old film, curled against the pillows and blankets you set up for her. And because you could see her perfectly well from the balcony, and the air was surprisingly warm for an autumn evening, you invited Joe to step out for a drink.

He followed your lead with caution, watching where you moved before he moved too. Joe thanked you for the drinks and settled across the tiny table in the only other chair you weren't occupying.

And yet, past the anxious glares, held breaths, and hidden blushes, your conversation never faltered. He asked about your life, you asked about his. You complained about silly things, he joked along with you. Olive fell asleep against her throne of blankets as you sipped your drinks, afraid for the bottles to empty, surely signaling the end of the evening.

The time on your phone read one in the morning, but you pretend you don't notice. And if Joe did, he pretended he hadn't, either.

The fun (if that's what you could call it) ended only when the front door creaked open and Gwil crept inside. He turned his gaze toward the patio as if he'd been expecting to see you and Joe there all along.

"I should go. It's late." Joe hummed, resting his drink on the table between the two of you.

But Gwil popped his head out into the warm night with a sweeping wave of his hand.

"No, no it's fine, finish your beer. I'm knackered. G'night." Gwilym spoke as if he'd rehearsed the line one too many times, his voice flat and dull. He hadn't even looked right at you the entire couple minutes he'd been home. As he shut the sliding door and turned to head to bed, the man gave a little expression of assurance that was too obviously forced. Your fake husband's hurry off to bed without you, and his strange insistence for Joe to stick around was barely coy.

As you and the man with fossil toned eyes settled back against the patio seats, an awkward silence nearly suffocated you. It was not suddenly strange. It had always been strange. Only unavoidable, now.

"Is everything... okay?" Joe dared to ask in a low, wavering tone.

"Everything... is simply not as it seems. Much worse, really." You laughed a little, barely, but it wasn't funny. And Joe clearly realized just how serious you were.

But instead of asking or pushing you to go on, Joe just gave a micro nod, as if he already knew. And when you changed the subject, giggling over something Lucy said, Joe let himself laugh too, as you both took the last sips of your drinks.

When Joe left, he lingered in the doorway as you said goodbye, and he exchanged the exact same parting phrase. And when he walked away, you let yourself wish for a nanosecond that he wasn't leaving.

///

"I'm going out with Ben again! Don't know when I'll be back, okay bye!" Gwilym spun out of the door, dressed to the nines, offering no explanation.

And all morning long, between a lazy breakfast and a lethargic movie marathon with your daughter clamoring from one lap to another, you and Gwilym never spoke much about anything to each other. While you realized there wasn't much more to discuss or argue over than hadn't already been hashed out, you hadn't expected Gwilym to just up and leave without a good reason or proper goodbye.

You cursed his name under your breath as you turned off the telly. As you ate lunch alone, you noticed the sun was peeking through the clouds for the first time in forever, and Olive was waking up from her nap with a bored cry.

You could go out too, ya know?

///

"Here, some leftovers." You extended a neatly wrapped plate of food to Joe, who stood wide-eyed in his maroon doorway. You'd never been to his Airbnb before now. You'd had rules you wouldn't let yourself break, before now.

Joe took the plate with a meek thanks, then asked if everything was alright.

"Yeah, yeah. I simply couldn't finish those by myself," You explained. Gwilym was missing dinner, again. "And it's finally nice out. Is there a park around here?" You wondered, shifting Olive in your arms.

"Uh... uh yeah. Just a block away actually. That way." Joe pointed, stuttering in place. You looked in the direction he pointed and hummed. As you turned slightly, planning to go enjoy yourself for once, you looked back to Joe.

"You comin'?"

"Oh, uh, ye-yeah. Sure. Hang on." Joe looked to the plate of food in his hand and nodded before spinning inside, leaving the front door wide open.

You totted Olive back to the rented car Gwilym had left behind, biting back a smirk.

Joe came out moments after you'd situated Olive in her seat, sporting an old sweatshirt and a curious expression. He gave you directions to the park he knew was around the corner while your knuckles went white around the steering wheel.

How was something so easy, so hard? Being around Joe was like choking on a breath of fresh air.

And while you subconsciously relished the sound of his voice telling you where to go, you were both disappointed when you arrived. The park was small and flooded with rainwater from the week long downpour. Joe started to apologize on behalf of mother nature. You just backed out onto the road and said something about knowing a better place, offering to bring him along if he still so desired.

Joe didn't say no. He slumped deeper into the passenger seat, glancing to the buildings and people rushing by with umbrellas. His lips curled into a smile every time Olive babbled from the back. You noticed her in the mirror, and encouraged the girl to go on pointing things out in her own watered-down language.

By the time you made it to the park you'd become most acquainted with on your trip, you'd let yourself stop questioning the peace that had washed over the day, and tried your damnedest to embrace it.

Olive was content, truly happy as you pushed her in a swing just her size. Joe took photos of the slowly setting sun, painting the sky in streaks of gold and purple. And when he settled by your side once more, you picked up on one of those conversations the two of you had so easily. There was almost nothing you couldn't talk about. Almost. But your chatter wasn't enough to keep you warm when the wind picked up and turned Olives nose red.

Joe stayed with her while you went to search the car for an extra layer to keep your daughter warm, but you came up short. He was holding her close when you stepped onto the mulch, and it was Joe who insisted you go back to your rented flat to fetch another jacket or two.

You apologized on the ride, saying something about how you just wanted to have a good day. How you felt badly for dragging Joe into poorly made plans just because you didn't have anything better to do. Leaving out the bit about how you were secretly scared this would be one of the last times you'd get to be around the guy before you went home.

Joe just chuckled, assuring that you had nothing to apologize for, saying something about the spontaneous trip being a pleasant surprise, how he was still having a nice time. You couldn't understand why.

When you made it back to your rented flat, you wrestled Olive into a sweater, and asked Joe if he fancied a cup of tea before you ventured back out. He happily accepted the offer, sitting on your sofa like he was actually comfortable in the place that belonged to neither of you.

"Where is Gwilym tonight?" Joe asked through a humorless laugh. You rolled your eyes, looking back to see your daughter had roped Joe into helping her set up a team of blocks. He worked deliberately to balance a few, not looking your way.

"Your guess is as good as mine." You sighed, moving the kettle full of water and turning the burner on. Olive handed Joe more blocks, and he asked for her help arranging them. You pulled your phone from your pocket to distract yourself from the feelings sprouting in your chest; and to confirm your suspicion.

"He left forever ago and hasn't answered my texts." You sighed, glancing at the couple messages you'd sent Gwilym before you'd left on your own, simply wondering when he'd be back, hardly caring where he'd run off too. He'd seen your messages, leaving hours to pass without a response.

When you rested your phone on the counter with a huff, Joe stood.

"Are you okay, y/n?" He asked, stepping over toys to meet you in the kitchen. You ran your hands through your hair, resisting the urge to pull it all out in a frustrated fit.

"I don't know. I really don't know." You admitted. How had you ended up here? "I don't know where Gwilym is. And I don't know why I'm so upset about it. I should be used to it! We've never spent this much time together. But he just had to tell-"

You stopped rambling just in time, casting your furrowed brow to your feet as you let out a laugh to disguise your desire to scream. After your vexation hung in the air for a beat too long Joe spoke up again.

"You don't have to tell me anything. It's not my place... I shouldn't have asked-" Joe started to take back his concern. You hated the way he subtracted the value of his words when he assumed they didn't sit well with you.

"I wish you knew how badly I want to tell you the truth." You stupidly confessed, looking up to Joe, exhausted by the effort it took to keep your eyes from locking with his.

Joe didn't ask what you meant or urge you to say anything further. He just clenched his jaw and seemed to make a decision. You watched him blink, just before he pulled you into a hug. A real one. Nothing like the sorry embrace he dealt you before you all left the woods, last weekend.

And you let yourself hug him back now, as you'd always wanted too. Because somewhere deep down you knew this was it. Maybe not the last hug, but certainly the best by far. Maybe not the embrace you wished you could convey your feelings through, but the closest you'd allowed yourself to come, yet. The closest you might ever be allowed.

"I'm sorry... for whatever it is," Joe spoke, in a low soothing rumble.

"I'm more sorry, trust me." You replied, voice muffled against his warm sweatshirt. You hated lying to Joe. Even though you hadn't known another reality since the day you met, it felt worse every day.

He was the first to break, moving away slowly like maybe he didn't want to. And you couldn't even fool yourself into believing you'd been imagining things. Not with the way Joe lingered so close, still. Not with the way his hand delayed on your arm, fingers nearly curling into a clutch. Joe was barely an inch from you. You could feel when he held his breath. You watched his focus zero in on your lips and you felt your jaw slack ever slightly. You watched him start to drift closer. And then the tea kettle whistled to life.

The hiss of steam became louder as your senses adjusted back to reality. Joe had yet to break his stare on you, but the spell had been broken, for good. Joe's breath felt colder, and your future seemed less bright than moments ago.

"I should go. I'm going."

He stepped back, yanking your heart out.

"Let me give you a ride." You breathed, turning off the stove and glancing to where you tossed the keys as Joe kept moving toward the door.

"No, that's okay. I'll get a ride." Joe nodded your way reaching for the handle.

"Joe," You spoke his name in a plea to stop him, though you didn't know why. Your stomach twisted in knots the longer you looked at him.

"Goodnight, y/n." Joe offered, before opening the door and closing it behind himself before you could follow and stop him in time. His absence was sudden and hung heavy in the air. Olive stood from her place on the floor and fixated her stare on the door, much like yours. When she realized Joe wasn't coming back, the babe broke into cries like she did when one of her parents abandoned her with the other.

Now everything was fucked. You'd truly and utterly fucked everything all the way up.

///

After putting Olive to bed, the quiet home made your thoughts much too loud. Instead of going on tossing and turning, you shuffled into the living room and flipped through telly channels. Hardly paying attention, just looking for the right noise to drown out the racket running through your mind.

The only sound that broke through your self-pity was the door creaking open. You didn't need to look at a clock to know it was the witching hour. Gwilym tried to keep quiet as he shut the door, but jumped in surprise to see you curled on the sofa, still mindlessly pressing the remote buttons.

"Christ, you're still up?" He asked, shedding his jacket and leaving it to hang by the door. You didn't respond.

"I'm sorry I never texted. I know I should have." Gwilym sighed. He was right, but your anger with him had long fizzled away.

"It's okay." You said simply, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you.

"What's wrong?" Gwilym asked in a worried manner, moving to sit on the opposite end of the sofa, turning to face you. You glanced his way, considering his genuine expression, and then turned back to the telly, because you couldn't look at Gwil as you started to tell him about your night.

You left out most of the details, but you told Gwilym what happened. How you and Joe nearly kissed. How he left in a flash. How none of it mattered because you and Olive were leaving in a couple of days. You'd be out of the way and Gwilym could go on making his film without worrying about you muffing up the act he kept up off the set.

Gwilym chanted apologies as you retracted back inside your head. You stayed quiet, curled against a throw pillow while your fake husband offered to do something to make this all better. And while Gwilym decided your silence was submission, you both knew there was no use. Not anymore.

///

The next day you stayed in until the very last minute you were meant to be on your way to fetch Gwilym from the set. When you got there, you hurried in with your head down, taking the quickest route to his trailer.

Luckily, Gwilym was already on his way out, greeting you with an oddly excitable smile.

"What?" You asked anxiously, watching Gwilym reach out to your daughter in your grasp, tucking back a bit of her growing hair

"This was always meant to be our last big night out and I think we should still go to have a nice, big dinner. But I was thinking maybe you could stay another week or so. I've been thinking we could-"

"Gwilym. Please don't make this harder than it has to be." You grinned with a sorry shake of your head, moving to walk out with him.

"It doesn't have to be hard." Gwilym insisted, keeping his pace in time with yours.

"We have to go home!" You made yourself clear, stopping to look up at the guy with pleading eyes. He couldn't possibly want to keep this up, either.

"I can't do this anymore." You implored. You'd met your wits' end. Your heart was no longer on the line. It was crushed.

You turned away from Gwil with tears in your eyes, in a hurry to make it back to the car. But it was too late. Ben came floating around the corner, his bright smile faltering when he noticed you, asking what the matter was. You shook your head out of fear if you opened your mouth, you'd only burst into sobs.

And as Ben moved away, he called out in concern to the guy who was meant to be following you.

"Gwilym, mate, why is your wife crying? Is everything-"

Gwilym's immediate and booming response stopped you in your tracks.

"We're not married!"

The battered up remains of your heart slammed to the ground as you froze in place. Oh shit.

"I lied. I'm at fault here, so don't go thinking less of her." Gwilym spoke to Ben, who went silent. As you stalled, stunned, Olive burst into tears, and a hand fell feather-light against your shoulder.

Lucy came into your view, and with one silent look, she escorted you further from the boys and out of the heavy stage doors.

Just as you turned to exit, you spotted a familiar face a few feet away. Joe was standing near the empty stage holding a canvas bag over his shoulder and looking at you with a slack jaw. You hadn't seen him since he fled your kitchen. And now, you knew he'd finally understood what you were trying to say to him that night. He'd clearly heard what just happened.

You were quick to snap your gaze away from his, and follow Lucy out of the place. Olive was crying in one ear, and you could hear Gwilym begin some sort of impassioned speech in the distance. The sun was bright, but not on your side, today.

Lucy slipped into your passenger seat as you buckled a fussy Olive into her car seat. She immediately settled when you handed her one of your old tshirts that was always a Godsend during times like these. Your daughter was subdued to tired whines as you shut the back door and hurried to the driver's side.

"What the fucking hell is going on, darling?" Lucy gave you a bewildered smile as you rested your head against the seat with a sigh. You pressed the heels of your hands to your eyes, pushing tears away. Lucy should be fumming. She should be in the middle of shouting horrid things at you. But she was reaching out to you. She was still a better friend than you, or most anybody deserved.

"Are you ready for a really long and stupid story?" You raised your brows toward Lucy who was literally on the edge of her seat.

You started with how you met Gwilym at one of your flatmate's wild parties. How you both got to know each other over summer bashes and started hooking up when you were both drunk enough. How you and Gwil gave each other a sober shot. You explained your decision to keep the baby you'd accidentally brought along, and how good Gwilym was to you. How you'd settled into a strange little family who slept in different places but spent every other minute together.

Lucy stopped you every now and again to ask questions and laugh out loud. Because the story was ridiculous. And you laughed too. Somehow Olive fell asleep to the tune of your storytelling, but Lucy was hanging on your every word.

"So you're not even really together then, are you?" Lucy realized, giving you a look.

"Never have been, no." You groaned. "He shouldn't have lied. But it's always been easier to leave all explanations aside. The lines were already blurred. We always sat too close together and held hands in crowded spaces. But we shouldn't have gone on lying." You began, turning further to face Lucy.

"I stooped to his level to save his ass. That's all that really happened. And I'm so sorry for it." You explained. Lucy offered you a sip of the iced coffee she'd brought along and placed in the cupholder between the two of you. You gratefully take a swig.

"So that's why everything exploded then. Because you're not meant to truly be together." Lucy spoke like she'd seen the light. But that wasn't exactly it. You and Gwil already knew there was no chance for the two of you. But you'd been friends and co-parents long enough to function as a pair.

"Gwil and I probably would have kept up lying without a hitch if... well, if it wasn't for Joe." You swallowed your nerves as you shot Lucy a timid smile.

"Oh my God." Lucy gave a hint of a nod as she gaped your way. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The awkward air between you and Joe must have been noticeable. But to a girl who had become your friend, it was clear as day, now.

Slowly, and with a great deal of caution, you began to explain your scattered feelings. And describing your situation to someone who wasn't involved lifted a weight off your shoulders. It wasn't a heavy secret to carry anymore. But a broken puzzle full of pieces that weren't made to fit together.

"Well, shit." Lucy sighed, once you'd laid everything on the table. Your friend raised a brow and looked to you for one more answer.

"What now?" Just as she asked, you spotted Gwilym walking up to the car, sporting a long face.

"I go home." You glanced toward Lucy. She made a frustrated grumble as she opened the door and hopped onto the solid ground.

"Well keep me updated, please," Lucy asked. "And if you don't come to tell me goodbye tomorrow, I'll be pissed!" The blonde hissed, grabbing her iced coffee, and kissing the air in your direction.

"I love you." You giggled with relief.

Lucy left the passenger door open as Gwilym dragged his feet towards where she left. She stopped Gwil in his tracks with a hand in his shoulder. He seemed to brace himself, and you wondered what the others had said to Gwilym that left him in such a disposition.

Lucy simply brought each of her index fingers to Gwil's cheeks and turned the corners of his mouth up in a foe smile. She gave an approving nod before skipping back inside the studio where no one else had yet to come out.

Gwilym clamored into the passenger seat without a word. The smile Lucy gave him had slowly deflated and he looked to you with a thousand words on his lips that he couldn't yet form.

"Let's have that nice dinner, huh?" You offered softly, starting the engine to the car.

///

"How's things?" You greeted Gwilym in his trailer for the last time, asking one thousand questions in one. He was wearing that silly wig and eyes you might have mistaken for sleepy, if you hadn't known how vapid he'd been feeling the past twenty-four hours.

"Lucy is waiting for you outback. There's a bonfire." Gwilym flashed you a tired smile, taking Olive from your grasp. You realized he was staying put, and that you were only on set to fulfill your promise to Lucy. You nodded toward Gwil in thanks, and hurried out of the trailer, around the back lot to find the blonde girl dancing around a burning fire with a few of the stagehands. They each greeted you warmly, just like always.

And when she saw you, Lucy spun to throw herself in your arms.

"As the lovers collided so did the ocean waves." Lucy pretended to swoon hanging off of you. "Oh, did she heave-ho."

"My dearest darling, what will my heart beat for in your absence?" You smiled, holding Lucy up as she lost her balance in your arms. With a shared giggle, she was on her feet once more, looking you dead in the eye. The time for cheesy romance lines had long gone.

"I know I asked for a goodbye, but I've changed my mind. I want you to promise I'll see you again soon. Honestly." Lucy arched her brows and nodded your way. It wasn't a sweet sentiment. It was a genuine demand to keep your friendship afloat. You'd already RSVPed for her sister's gallery opening, anyhow.

"I promise." You agreed, clinging to her slim shoulders.

"Good. Because you have an event to attend in January." She pulled you into a tight hug, as the other's voices dissipated, leaving the fireside.

When you pulled away from your hug, everyone had slowly tricked away. But someone was approaching the abandoned party, stalling to stand alone. It was Joe.

Lucy noticed your perturbed gaze and gave you a final nod, before skipping away from the bonfire. How silly to let something burn with no one around to enjoy it, you thought, scanning the now-empty space. Joe was in his normal clothes, a tshirt, and jeans. He kept an unreadable gaze on you as he came to a standstill a couple of steps away.

"Where's Olive?" He asked like he was genuinely concerned by her absence.

"With Gwil." You sheepishly noted, daring to look Joe in the eye. You knew he knew everything. You even figured he might have known some things you didn't realize. This was your first exchange since he nearly kissed you. Since you nearly let him. The space between you now was just as cool as it wound up being that night.

"Well, I've got a train to catch." You decided because withering under Joe's frighteningly undecipherable gaze was about to make your chest cave in.

"I guess this is goodbye then, huh Mrs. Lee?" Joe's tone was mixed up, sad, and angry and confused all at once. Your heart plummeted at the sound of the name you asked him never to call you.

"I'm really fucking sorry for lying to you." You spoke up a little louder in an effort to keep your voice from cracking. "You don't deserve to ever be lied to. I wish we met differently, Joe. I'm so fucking sorry." You slowly backed away from the bonfire light and Joe took one step toward you, as if to ask you to wait up.

That's when Ben suddenly appeared, fuming. "Gwil deserved the family you lied about having, you know?"

You jumped a little, surprised by his appearance as he cursed at you. You hadn't heard or seen him coming. He was just there with balled up fists and a windblown wig. And Ben was right. Gwilym deserved the perfect life. The same one you'd always envisioned for yourself. He was a trophy father. And a damn good friend. You weren't.

"Whoa, Ben-" Joe spoke up, stepping a little closer to you, with actual fire reflecting in his glossy gaze. Your hurt feelings were ever so slightly numbed by his protective stance. But Ben was right.

"I know, Ben." You nodded. "I'm so sorry. Don't let my stupid actions affect your relationship with Gwil. He loves you, for real."

Your throat grew tight as you spun in a hurry to leave. The gravel crunched under your feet while you stormed back around the trailers to find Gwilym.

But you'd seen Rami first. He was still dressed as Freddie, and chattering to his assistant in a thick accent, past a fake mustache. You knew that somewhere past all the method acting, that Rami knew about everything that happened in the past 24 hours. Because Lucy knew. She knew everything.

You cast your eyes toward your feet, praying you wouldn't catch Ramis glare if he chose to look at you. Even though you knew he'd never broken his character from Freddie on set, you could feel Rami notice you.

"You're leaving?" The dark-headed man stopped you in your tracks, gently grabbing your shoulders and dropping his accent. The shift in character chilled you to the bone.

"Yeah, I gotta go home." You whisper looking into Rami's starry eyes. You could see he wanted to talk, but you could only pull him into a very tight, very brief hug. And it was then that you realized you were leaving this place. And these people. You tried to hide the tears building up in your eyes as you gave Rami a very weak goodbye and scampered off to the trailer you left Gwilym in.

He was changed back into glasses and a ball cap, packing Olives toys back in her bag. You didn't even realize that you'd let a couple of tears fall until Gwilym glanced up and gave you a look you recognized from days gone by...

"I'm so sorry Y/N." He opened his arms toward you. How was he to know that his castmates were going to become his very best friends? How was he to know you'd fall in love with them all as well? He was only thinking of himself. He was selfish. He hated to see you cry.

"Me too." You rang. Gwil had only panicked. He wasn't perfect. And you did love him. You tried your best to make that work. But it wasn't enough. You'd let him down and he uttered the truth from rock bottom, last minute. All you could do now was fall against Gwil's chest and reign your sniffles in. His heart broke as his hands carded through your hair. He didn't want you to leave like this.

But you did. You had too. Neither of you said very much as Gwilym helped you load up your luggage. Fuller, with gemstone decorated handbag Lucy gifted you the first night you met, and Olives new oversized plush penguin from the aquarium.

Gwilym held your hand on the rainy ride toward the train station. He hugged his daughter goodbye and promised you both he'd be home for Christmas. You clung to Gwilym before your train rolled in. You would miss his comfort in the months to come. Even when he was the one who caused you such trouble, he was the first to try and make it better. And his attempts were usually successful.

You watched him watch you leave, feeling all too much like something bigger than what the two of you shared had broken and shattered with your parting.

Olive usually cried on long rides away from Gwilym. Now, she slept soundly at your side while the roles reversed, tears staining your cheeks before the train was too far from the city.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

taglist: @sonic-volcano @imtheinvisiblequeen @redspecialty @itscale @stardust-killer-queen @joemazzelo @dancetohotspace @kiwi-hardy @joeneslee @borhapqueen92@im-an-adult-ish @johndeaconshands @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye@beepbeephardy @slutforbritdick @joemazzmatazz @almightygwil @sadhwstudent @freakibanana @lelifesaver @drummah-in-a-rocknroll-band

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfic #gwilym lee imagine

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ruewrites · 4 years

Text

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 5: Getting Creative

AO3

Ships: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 4332

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12

The walk back was much better with Solomon at his side. Even if he was nervous and a little frustrated at the thought of his Secret not staying in the circle he wanted them to, Solomon talking about his latest research project was nice. His eyes lit up in the cutest of ways when he was talking about something he was passionate about. So what Asmo was indulging his crush a little bit? Who wouldn’t think Solomon was attractive, a bit odd at times, but still attractive. And he could pull off the mystery man act really well, even if he was a huge nerd deep down.

However, the closer they got to his humble abode, the more apprehension built within Asmo. “Do you think it’s too late to run away from home now?” he asked, turning to look at Solomon. He was mostly kidding.

Solomon seemed to think it over for a minute as they stopped in front of the Morningstar residence. “I mean, you could. But you don’t have any of your things, so there’s that, along with the fact that you wouldn’t get very far,” he said.

“Because my car’s in the shop?”

“I was going to say because of Lucifer, but that too.”

Asmo couldn’t help but snort. Solomon did have a point. If any one of them went missing under any circumstance, Lucifer would raise hell. He knew him, and he knew he’d do anything, spend any amount of money to get them back. In other words running away to avoid embarrassment was definitely out of the picture.

With a little apprehensiveness Asmo opened the door, preparing himself for the worst. However, he was met with a strange silence, one he couldn’t quite find comfort in. As he listened closer, he could hear voices coming from the living room.

“You had to just go and blabber to him.”

“You were the one that blabbered to me first! Why would you get told and not me?”

“Because Mammon wasn’t supposed to know,” Asmo huffed, arms crossed. Said brother jumped to face Asmo. Asmo’s arms were crossed, and a frown etched itself into his smooth skin. Solomon poked his head from around the corner and peered over Asmo’s shoulder. Unlike Asmo, he seemed almost indifferent to the scene before him. Eyes moving from Levi, to Mammon, back to Asmo. It took him a few moments before he noticed two more figures sitting on one of the chairs in one of the corners of the room.

Levi held up his phone and frowned, “Asmo you never answered my texts! Why did Mammon get to know about this and not me?”

“Because Mammon went snooping through my room, I wasn’t going to tell any of you,” Asmo frowned, brows furrowing and arms tightening around himself. He couldn’t believe his brothers. Why did they always want to be in his business when he didn’t want them to be?

He felt Solomon move behind him to his other side as he leaned against the open doorway. “Well you did tell Satan and me.”

“You don’t count.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Asmo and put his hands on his hips. “Oh. So Satan can know but the rest of us can’t? What? You think we’re all gonna go ‘n snitch to Lucifer?” he huffed. Asmo really couldn't believe that Mammon was trying to call him out right now. Mammon, who already told one of their other brothers about his precious Secret in less than twenty-four hours. And he was wondering why he only wanted to tell Satan.

“Well Satan wasn’t the one that went and told Levi was he?”

“Or us.”

Asmo whipped his head to the corner of the room where the twins sat nestles comfortably on the couch. Beel and Belphie were both focused on a pink sheet of paper in Belphie’s hands and didn’t bother to look up. “Sorry, we heard them going back and forth and got curious when we saw this in the mailbox,” Belphie said, a smirk starting to appear on his face, “Whoever they are, you really have their attention. Wonder how often you’re on their mind.”

“Give me that before one of you gets grease on it!” Asmo’s face was a bright pink, as he went to grab the letter only to have it snatched away by another hand. “Levi!”

“I want to be able to read some of their writing too! Afterall, I’m an expert in this field!”

“Expert?” Asmo highly doubted that.

Levi ignored him and started scanning over the words on the paper. “Well duh. Do you realize how much media utilizes the Secret Admirer trope? It’s practically everywhere, especially in fanfiction,” he rambled, “And- oh they like your laugh.”

“Oi read faster!”

“My letters aren’t for you to read!” Why was it that they didn’t want to hear about his partners any other time, but now they wanted to read all about his personal life? He didn’t have much time to think as a hand slipped onto his shoulder.

“I thought I was the only one in the family that knew.” He hadn’t even noticed Satan slip into the room. He was still in his work uniform and the scent of coffee followed him. “I was wondering what had you so worked up in here,” he said, “So, did Lucifer find out?”

“He hasn’t been home yet,” Beel said, munching down on a bag of chips, “I think he said something about taking Cerberus out on a walk with Diavolo and Barbatos. Is Lucifer not supposed to know?”

Asmo let out a sigh of relief. Good. He didn’t have to cross that bridge yet. He wouldn’t have to try and justify himself to Lucifer. “No. Not yet,” he said, “Now if you would please -”

“Levi! Didn’t you have new news to tell me about that show we were watching?” Solomon had managed to weasel his way between Levi and Mammon. Asmo knew that Solomon shared interests with some of his brothers, but this was hardly the time to bring that up! Whose side was he on? “I think it was something about-”

“A stakeout! Yes!” Levi grinned, completely shifting his focus, “You know how everything was left on a cliffhanger? Well it was a little off, but they were all in Henry’s car with some you pretty advanced tech! And you really have to catch up because I don’t want to spoil who they caught. But you absolutely won’t believe who it was! It was almost too obvious, so no one suspected them.”

Then something seemed to click within Levi and a giant grin spread across his face, “Oh! That’s what we should do!” Levi quickly turned to Asmo and gripped his shoulders, “We need a stakeout.”

“Come again?”

“A stakeout,” he repeated, “Just like in issue number twelve of My Secret Crush Affair. While Volume seven isn’t canon, it was still good.”

“That’s not a bad plan ya got there.”

Asmo turned to look at Mammon and rolled his eyes, “Ah yes, because this won’t be suspicious, and Lucifer totally won’t figure us out.”

“You just leave ol’ Luci to me,” Mammon grinned, slapping Asmo’s back, “Your big brother Mammon is gonna make sure we get you with your lil admirer.”

His brothers were going to assure that Asmo would die single.

Suddenly, Solomon clapped his hands together, bringing all eyes back to him. “Well, this entire situation has been fun, but unfortunately I need to steal Asmodeus away, we still have things we need to get done,” he smiled, somehow managing to free Asmodeus from his brothers and encourage him towards the door. “We’ll leave the plotting to the rest of you, have fun!”

Asmo shook Solomon’s hands off of him as soon as they were out of sight. “What was that about? Do you enjoy the pain my brothers put me through?” he huffed, making his way upstairs, Solomon following quickly behind him, “We don’t even have any more work to do!” Or rather Asmo didn’t feel like being productive anymore. Once they left Solomon’s, he’d lost any motivation to do anything outside of his designs.

“It didn’t seem that bad to me.”

“You don’t understand, you don’t have to live with them. I love them all dearly, but I can’t.” Asmo opened the door to his room and flopped over onto his bed, “And they still have my letter, and they read it before me! The nerve.”

He felt the bed shift a bit and Solomon place something on his chest, “Oh? Are you so sure about that?”

His letter .

“Oh Solomon I love you and your little nerdy tricks!” Asmo squealed, wrapping his arms around his waist and squeezing tight, “Thank you thank you thank you !” Oh he could go on and on about how much he adored Solomon in this moment. Well, more than normal. It was also possible that just maybe Solomon’s little magic tricks had more uses than just for showing off at parties.

Solomon’s hand rubbed against his shoulder, “I know how much they mean to you.” Asmo could feel Solomon’s eyes on him as he let go, fingers dancing along the edge of the paper. Solomon always knew what was important to Asmo, but that’s just how friends were right? After all, Asmo knew what was important to Solomon. Sometimes he wouldn’t see him for weeks because he became so buried within his studies or a new book he found interesting. Then he would get paragraphs of text messages or hour long phone conversations if they couldn’t meet in person. He liked hearing about it,even if he didn’t understand what Solomon was talking about. He was passionate about his fascinations, and Asmo liked that.

“Are you going to read it?”

Asmo let out a soft hum in contemplation before setting the letter down. “Later. I like to read them when I’m alone. Reading someone else’s words of affection is a very intimate thing,” he said, “But of course you can expect me to tell you all about it later.” He wished he could have kept the first read for his eyes only, but it couldn’t be helped now. Maybe Secret would be a little more secret next time. Or at least they could be a little more careful when it came to their placement of the letters. What if they wrote something meant for his eyes only? Or what if his brothers interpreted something wrong? Or what if Lucifer found them?

“I can tell you what we can do though,” he smiled, getting up off of the bed, and towards his closet. Hanging up nice and neat in plastic wrap was his class project. “I finished the adjustments, and since you’re here-” He skipped back over and pushed it towards Solomon expectantly. “Try it on? Just to make sure I have it right?”

Of course he did it right. This wasn’t the first project he’d done with Solomon.

Nonetheless, Solomon would still amuse him, and damn did he look good.

The only thing that Asmo couldn’t take his eyes off of was the flower. The silk yellow petals were still closed tightly. Nimble fingers gently peeled them back, making them open up ever so slightly. It reminded him of a starburst unfolding against the night sky. Overall, the slight bloom to the flower added to the design. “Does everything feel alright? Nothing too tight?”

“I think we’re good to go. What are you going to do with it when your project is done?”

“Well, I was thinking I could use it as an example of my work, if you don’t mind me taking pictures of you in it. You are my perfect model after all!”

Solomon leaned against him, eyes shifting towards the corner of the ceiling, a drawn out hum starting to leave his mouth. Asmo snorted and shoved Solomon half heartedly.

“ And my most absolutely, positively, wonderful, bestest friend in the entire world whom I adore.”

Just as Asmo was about to invite Solomon to stay for dinner, his phone buzzed. Solomon unlocked it, eyes scanning over the words before slumping against the counter. “I forgot that meeting was tonight…” he sighed, setting the phone down while carefully unbuttoning the jacket. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t forget to tell me all about your letter, Asmodeus.”

Even if Solomon wasn’t serious, how could he forget?

******

“Come on Lucifer, come out, just for one night.”

“I can’t, and unfortunately my answer will remain so no matter how many times you ask.”

Asmo was coming down the stairs when Lucifer walked through the door. Currently he was kneeling on the ground, undoing the leash of a very wiggly Cerberus. Diavolo was next to him, trying to make eye contact, but Lucifer’s eyes were fixed on the dog. As soon as Cerberus was free, he took off down the hallway and then back towards the door before sitting and wagging the weapon that Lucifer called a tail.

“Cerberus, sit ,” Lucifer commanded, before standing and looking down at Diavolo, “It’s my turn to cook tonight. It would be nothing short of irresponsible to back out last minute, not to mention unfair to the others.”

Diavolo’s frown deepened and Asmo swore his eyes got a little. It was only then that he noticed Barbatos, who stepped in between the two. “Perhaps another time Sir. I can schedule you a time next Thursday? I believe I could shift some things around,” he said, snapping open a calendar from his person. Asmo could only hope he had a secretary as good as Barbatos, whenever he made it big.

“Tonight would be just as swell,” Diavolo insisted, “Besides, things have been busy, incredibly busy. Surely you can take a break just this once! Let me take you out. It’s my treat.”

“You really don’t need to. You’ve already done more than enough for me.”

“Just let me Lucifer, please, let yourself relax.”

Asmo leaned against the banister as he listened with amusement. Sure Diavolo had known Lucifer for a while, but Asmo had known his big brother since he’d been born. Hell would freeze over before Lucifer gave into anything that caused him to deviate from a plan or schedule. Well, anything he considered minor, if it was serious he’d do whatever he could. He liked watching the man try to win his brother over though. He’d asked Lucifer before if there was anything more serious going on between the two of them, but he was only met with a sharp glare that screamed ‘none of your business’. Well maybe it was none of his business, but he still liked to know. Lucifer had always made sure all of his brothers were on their best behavior whenever Diavolo was over. He could still remember how he nervously paced the halls the first time he invited him over and introduced him to his tiny family. Asmo remembered liking Diavolo because he let him put one of his bows in his hair. It was only an issue when his brothers invaded his privacy, but everyone else was fair game.

Usually these little back and forths lasted for a while, and most of the time Diavolo would head home with that puppy dog head of his hanging and Barbatos penciling in a quick four o’ clock for dinner after work. It was always amusing even if he was watching reruns most of the time. Lucifer was just about to win the battle once again when a new voice interrupted him.

“Go on ahead Luci, take the night off fo’ yo’self.”

All heads turned to Mammon, who was standing a little farther down the hallway. Asmo wondered what he could possibly be playing at, or what he had done that might get him in trouble with Lucifer. Then it clicked. He was actually going to make an attempt to throw Levi’s hand into action. No way.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed and his entire body seemed to become stiffer. He looked like a snake ready to strike. “Mammon-”

“Nah, I mean it. I’ll take the rest of the boys out somewhere else. When’s the last time you’ve had a break huh? Let Dia treat you.”

Diavolo lit up and turned from Mammon back to Lucifer, “See? It looks like you’ll have dinner covered! Come on Lucifer, I’ll even let you pick where we go out to!” Even from where he was Asmo could see the twitch in Lucifer’s eye.

“Mammon. If I even get word or discover that you are up to something-”

“Hey! Hey! Relax! I ain’t plottin nothin!” Mammon said, looking rather offended, “Is it so suspicious that I wanna do something nice for my little brothers and give our biggest dearest brother a night off?”

“He’s being nice Lucifer,” Diavolo said, sneaking one of his hands up to Lucifer’s shoulder, “Come. Have dinner. Enjoy a night off. You’ve been working so hard.”

The tension emitting from Lucifer could have cut the silence of the room like a knife. But his will was cracking. Between Mammon’s offer and Diavolo’s insistence it was hard to say no. Lucifer let out a slow breath, Asmo leaned over the banister a little more.

“Asmodeus.”

Asmo let out a squeak and stumbled back a bit as Lucifer’s eyes turned up towards him.

“Come here. If you’re done with your eavesdropping that is.” It wasn’t a request. Asmo made his way down the stairs and stood in front of his brother. “You and the others will make sure Mammon does as he says-”

Mammon let out a scoff.

“-and let me know if something happens otherwise.”

Diavolo’s eyes lit up and a blinding grin plastered itself across his face. Asmo couldn’t help but notice how happy his brother made Diavolo, or how (even if Lucifer wouldn’t say so himself to their family) Lucifer seemed in better spirits after spending time with Diavolo. It was sweet. Maybe one day Diavolo could get Lucifer to loosen up.

“Asmodeus?”

“Of course brother dearest.”

Mammon mumbled under his breath, “ Kiss up .”

Lucifer nodded, somewhat satisfied, but still a little apprehensive. He turned to Diavolo and nodded, “Shall we then?”

Asmo had never seen anyone nod faster as Diavolo took his brother’s arm, “ Yes . Don’t worry, I’ll make sure tonight is nothing but relaxing for you! You won’t regret a thing I promise!”

Lucifer turned his head one last time. Be safe .

He cared, he really did. Then they were gone, Barbatos swiftly following behind and Cerberus watching even after the door closed.

“I believe you owe me a thank you now,” Mammon said, slinging his arm around Asmo’s shoulder.

“ Thank you ?”

“You’re welcome!”

Asmo groaned. It was going to be an incredibly long night.

*******

“I can’t think of anything more appropriate than takeout.”

“Mammon.”

“Y’know why?”

“ Mammon I swear to g- ”

“Stakeout Takeout!”

“ Mammon .”

This night was going to be worse than long. It was an absolute nightmare that Asmo couldn’t wait to wake up from. Currently Asmo was in the back seat with three of his other brothers, with Mammon and Levi in the front. If they got arrested because they had too many people in the car Lucifer would kill them. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find out who Secret was, he just didn’t want to find out like this. Not with his brothers surrounding him.

“I thought stakeouts had steaks,” Beel said, through mouthfuls of food, “You know, kind of like a cookout.”

“I also thought that we were supposed to be in more than one location,” Belphie grumbled, slumped against, Beel’s shoulder. While this was true, currently they only had one functioning car and Lucifer’s was off limits.

Asmo was moving his food across the little styrofoam container. His appetite had abandoned him. How could he eat in a situation like this? It was unthinkable! Besides, even if the chances of catching Secret were slim, they were still there. They hadn’t even really planned how to do this. Mammon just shoved everyone in his car and then sped off down the road.

“Aren’t you going to eat Asmo?”

“Huh?” At first Asmo wondered if Beel was just looking at his food, then he noticed the concern. He quickly looked away and back down at his plate, “I dunno, I’m just not really hungry. You can have it if you want.”

Beel shook his head, the concern not leaving his eyes, “Are you alright?”

Asmo didn’t answer. What if he would be disappointed when he finally met Secret? In all honesty he needed to stop comparing them to Solomon. Solomon was Solomn, and no one else would be like him, and Solomon wasn’t into him. It hurt, but it was the truth. He needed to stop thinking it was him, he would only get hurt when the inevitable occurred.

….

But then again-

It could be him .

Wouldn’t that be the perfect romance? His best friend, who he adored, falling in love with him. But it didn’t make sense. The handwriting was too neat to be Solomon’s, the curves were too perfect. But it still could be .

“Alright!” Mammon’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts, “Welcome to our official first stakeout to find out who’s been havin the eyes for our little Asmo.” He leaned back in his chair looking back at all of them as Levi remained focused on some sort of software program on his laptop. “Objective number one, come up with a plan of action.”

“Is this because you drove us all the way out to this alley and then realized we had no way of tracking this person down?” Satan didn’t even bother looking up from his book as he spoke. He seemed bored. Satan was more of a neutral participant in the whole thing. Asmo was at least grateful he wasn’t encouraging any of this.

“‘Ey shut it,” Mammon hissed, making Satan smirk. He knew he’d hit the nail on the head. “Anyways, Levi is working on something that should be able to help us out with this whole thing, right Levi?”

“Uh… Maybe?”

“Good enough for me!”

“In any case,” Levi took over, “In order to have a successful stakeout, and catch out perp-”

“They’re not a criminal ,” Asmo interjected. Honestly, Asmo might cry if they were. He really needed positivity coming his way when it came to this… Why couldn’t his Secret just stayed his secret?

“-We’ll need bait,” Levi finished, pretending that Asmo hadn’t just interrupted him.

Mammon grinned and lowered his glasses, looking directly at Asmo, “And that’s where you come in our darling little brother.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your little Romeo’s only ever left stuff in your bag or in our mailbox. So it’s natural to assume that they know ya pretty well,” Mammon said lying back even further. Asmo would admit, his wording made it sound a little creepy, and he could feel both Satan and Beel’s concerned eyes glancing towards him. “So, reason stands that they would have to be near you at some point in the day!”

Mammon was practically beaming, like he’d just cracked some sort of major mystery. However, Asmo wasn’t too impressed. There was a glaring problem with Mammon’s oh so obvious point .

“Mammon. I am on a college campus. I am constantly surrounded by people.”

Mammon snorted, “Well, we’ll just have someone keep an eye out! Like Beel and Belphie!”

Belphie was already fast asleep on Beel’s shoulder, and Beel had stopped paying attention to Mammon’s plan and was digging into the takeout. However, Beel did glance up for just a moment, looking apologetic as a noodle disappeared into his mouth.

“I’m sorry…. Was I supposed to be listening? If you say it again I promise I’ll listen this time.”

Mammon’s head fell onto the horn of his car.

*******

Your smile lights up my days

Even in the darkest of nights

I know that you would always guide me home

Your laughter dances over my thoughts

Possessing my entire being.

I adore adore you

Everything about you

Everything you are

Has anyone ever told you you’re intelligent?

That you’re so incredibly creative?

You could create a new world if you wanted to

An entire universe.

I would follow you there

Because any world created by your hands would be paradise.

Any being living there would be blessed,

Because you’re kind

And loving

And perfect.

I would follow you anywhere if you asked

And I would give up everything in order to do so.

Think of me,

Your Secret

Saving this letter til after he had got home from this disaster of a night had been a wonderful idea. Asmo could feel a warmth spreading throughout his entire body. Secret cared about more than just his looks. Of course Asmo knew he was attractive, he’d always known. In fact, he’d had partners be with him solely for his looks, like a past girlfriend, who’d said all of their pictures would be beautiful. He hadn’t matched exactly the way she’d wanted for one once, and that was it. Or how another partner had brought him to a party his freshman year of college, only to be shown off to various people he didn’t know. He left back home alone that night, it was all too uncomfortable. But Secret cared . Secret paid attention to him. Secret wrote like there was more to him.

He had to stop the tears from dripping onto the parchment.

Now wonder his brothers were determined to find them.

Even though it was late, Asmo couldn’t sleep. He’d been tired before, when he first got home from their first (and according to Mammon and Levi it wasn’t their last) failed attempt at a stakeout. He’d wanted nothing more than to curl up and go to sleep. But now… Now as he laid there with wet eyes, all he could think about was how it would feel to have his Secret whisper those words to him in the dark.

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animezing-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Be My Valentine (Gruvia)

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut!

Relationships: Gruvia.

Summary: Set after the Wood God Dragon Arc. Juvia asks Gray to be her Valentine and to her surprise he accepts, and has another surprise waiting for her back at their hotel that she certainly wasn’t expecting but is nevertheless happy about.

A/N: This takes during the same time as my Nalu V-Day fic! I hope you guys like it!

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

When Juvia surprised Gray in town that day she had been expecting his usual rejection. At first she had gotten what she expected, but then Gray took her by surprise by whispering in her ear: “I’ll be your Valentine Juvia. In fact, I’ve got an idea for how I want to spend this Holiday with you back at the hotel.”

As soon as she heard that sentence her consciousness had separated itself from reality and her mind flooded with romantic fantasies of what he could say to her to sweep her off of her feet once they got to his hotel room. Little did she know, what it actually was would be ten times better than her wildest fantasy could ever be.

Once they reached the hotel, Gray pulled her into an alley to hide from Natsu who he spotted running towards the building. He sniffed around it for a few minutes before groaning and moving on. Gray was curious about what Natsu could be searching for, and Juvia couldn’t care less because right now she was pressed up against Gray’s bare chest (he had lost his shirt somewhere three blocks ago) and it was heaven for her. Little did she know she’d be reaching heaven many more times soon.

Once the coast was clear Gray took her hand and ran with her into the hotel. They quickly made their way up the stairs, Gray being alert to the people around them, making Juvia wonder why he didn’t want too many people to notice them.

When they enter his hotel room and he shuts the door behind them, the serious air he had about him since he whisked her away only intensifies as he walks towards the bed and stares at it. After a few moments of tense silence, Juvia opens her mouth to speak.

“So what is Gray-sama’s idea for spending Valentine’s Day with Juvia?” She asks him shyly.

He gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing as he turns to look at her with a soft look in his eyes that she rarely saw, because he only looked at her like that when he was about to open up to her about something that’s very emotional to him. He crosses the room to stand right in front of her, leaving barely any space between them as he cups her cheek and leans down to catch her lips in a soft kiss.

When she saw his mouth coming to meet hers she made no move to pull away. This was everything she had been waiting for since the moment she met him, and now she finally had his lips against hers. This was the happiest she had ever felt since the day she met Gray.

When Gray pulls back Juvia’s eyelids flutter back open and she looks into his eyes with tears of joy in the corners of hers. He gives her a small smile in return.

“So that’s what Gray-sama wants to do with Juvia? She is so happy!” she cheers and bounces on her feet. “Kissing Gray-sama all day is a dream come true for Juvia!”

“I figured as much” Gray chuckles before getting serious again. “But I want to do more than just kiss you tonight Juvia.”

Juvia looks confused until she notices Gray’s gaze shift towards the bed, and then his hand that had been holding her hip during their kiss tightens and she turns back to look at his face and lets out a soft gasp when she sees him staring at her body.

“I told you at Lucy’s award party that I might be into your body. Well...I am Juvia” He admits while looking her in the eyes. “I think you’re sexy. And I know it’s probably too soon to be asking you to do this with me since I only just told you that I love you but now that Fairy Tail is free from the White Wizard you’re going to be going back to Magnolia and I don’t know how long it’s going to be until I see you again so I want to do it with you now while we have the time because it could be awhile before we get another perfect moment like this again.”

Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. She was happy enough to just get a kiss from him, but now he wants to go all the way too! This was so much better than any fantasy she had imagined on their way over here and his words went straight to her core and she could feel her panties start to get damp.

“But we definitely don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” Gray quickly adds to make sure she didn’t feel like he was pressuring her into this. “If this is moving too fast just say so and we can just spend the rest of the day in here talking and cuddling. Or you can leave if you want too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this just because I want to. I love you Juvia, no matter what. As long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy too.”

“Juvia...” She starts and looks up at Gray before stepping closer to him and placing her hand on his bare chest “agrees with Gray-sama. We should seize this chance now while we have it. Juvia wants Gray-sama to make love to her.”

Gray gulps again and his gaze shifts from her eyes down to her body and back up to her lips as she leans in to kiss him and he meets her halfway.

The kisses start out soft and gentle. Gray had never kissed anyone before, and it had been awhile since Juvia had a boyfriend so it was awkward at first. But after some time they get into a rhythm and start making out.

Gray’s palms were sweaty as his hands moved along her clothed figure, mapping out the shape of her body slowly so he didn’t startle her and the touch sent shivers down her spine. Then one of his hands slides to her rear and gently squeezes, making her gasp and push her body into his, which only surprises her more when she feels something hard poking against her lower abdomen, and his grunt tells her exactly what it was she was feeling against her.

Their lips part, and Gray keeps his eyes locked on hers as he unbuckles his belt with practiced ease before unbuttoning and unzipping his fly to let his pants drop to the floor. He steps out of his boots and then Juvia allows her gaze to wander down to his crotch and her breath hitches from the large tent in his black boxer-briefs. She knew his dick was going to be big but actually having that confirmed before her very eyes was exhilarating and her damp panties were now soaking from the sight of it.

Gray blushes while she stares at it. He wanted her to see his erection. See what just the thought of having her naked in his arms did to him. She seemed surprised but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It was then that he remembered that he wasn’t the first man she was romantically involved with and he began to feel insecure about how much more experience she might have had than him.

“Juvia, this may not be the right time to ask you this but uh...you know that I’ve never had a girlfriend before but I know you’ve had boyfriends before so uh, have you ever done this with another guy before?” He asks her shyly while looking away from her.

“No” she answers and Gray lets out a sigh of relief. “Juvia has had other boyfriends before, but they would always break up with her way before we would get to this point.”

Gray looks back at her and he feels his cock twitch at the revelation that no other man has been with Juvia like he was about to be. He would be her first, and in the back of his mind he knew he wanted to be her only too.

Juvia carefully takes off her hat and places it on the table that was next to her. Then she began to undo the bow on the collar of her jacket and she places it next to the hat. She reaches up to unbutton her jacket then her hand stills and she looks at Gray.

“Would Gray-sama like to undress Juvia?” She asks softly.

Gray’s breath hitches and he steps towards her and reaches up to touch one of the buttons on her jacket. With each button he undoes he feels his body getting hotter and his breathing heavier. As more of Juvia’s creamy skin is revealed with each button he loosens on the jacket, he can see that her skin is just as flushed as his is.

When he removes her jacket his eyes are immediately glued to her cleavage. He felt his erection get stiffer with each heavy breath she took, making her ample bosom press against her bra. She turns so her back is facing him so that he can undo the clasp in the back. She gasps and stiffens as his fingers touch her back and tug on the strap and he pauses his movements.

“Keep going Gray-sama.” Juvia says, assuring him that she wants him to take off her bra.

He fumbled a bit, but he soon managed to undo the clasp and as a reflex Juvia gasps and holds her bra to her chest before it can slide off of her. When she turns around she sees that Gray’s face is bright red and he’s looking away from her, showing the same reflexive embarrassment as her at her exposed state. But Juvia is quick to overcome it and with a deep breath she releases the undergarment from her chest and lets it fall to the floor.

Once Gray hears the soft thud, he knows that’s her cue to give him consent to look at her. And when he does, he’s very turned on by what he sees.

“Holy...” He mutters while staring at the large white mounds on her chest.

Juvia blushes and smiles.

“Does Gray-sama like what he sees?” Juvia asks.

Gray gulps and nods. This wasn’t the first time he had seen a woman’s breasts before. He had seen Juvina’s and since she was Juvia’s counterpart, Juvia’s pretty much looked the same to him. But because they were his Juvia’s breasts, they were automatically way sexier than Juvina’s.

Juvia gently took his hand.

“Then Gray-sama may touch them too if he wants.” She says as she brings his hand up to her chest.

The second his palm touches her soft flesh she lets out a soft gasp and the lust that he had been keeping contained began to break free as he gently squeezes her tit before wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her towards him.

“Gray-sama!” She moans as he squeezes her breast while squeezing her butt at the same time with his other hand.

He groans and brings his hand to her other tit while he begins to kiss along her neck, making her gasp and push herself into him every time he bit down to leave a mark.

With one arm under her thighs he scoops her up and lays her down on her back on the bed before crawling on top of her. He holds himself up by his arm, with his hand pressing on the mattress by her head while leaning down to kiss her, and then he undoes her belt and tugs her skirt down and lets it drop on the floor.

While he undressed her, Juvia’s hands moved along his back, mapping out his body while his hands explored hers. Then she cries out in pleasure when Gray began to rub his crotch against hers, both still covered by their underwear but still pleasurable as Juvia begins to rock her hips back against his to match his rhythm.

“Juvia...” He moans and Juvia blushes from how hot it sounded when he moaned her name.

He put his mouth back on her again and she moans as he sucks a large love bite onto her neck, claiming her as his before his mouth begins to wander down to her chest.

“Gray-sama!” She moans and grips the back of his head to hold him to her chest as his mouth leaves a trail of kisses along her cleavage before working his way towards one of her hardened nipples and taking it into his mouth and sucking it.

Her moans got even louder after that and he felt a surge of pride run through him from his ability to make her feel good like this before moving to her other nipple.

He hooks his fingers into her panties and his eyes lock with hers, silently asking for permission to remove them. She lifts her hips to allow him to remove them and he slowly pulls them down her hips, then along her supple thighs and smooth calves before pulling them off at her feet and dropping them to the ground with the rest of her clothes.

He sat up and took a moment to admire her body now that she was bare before him.

“Beautiful...” Is all he manages to say before his mouth is back at her breast, giving her a few more kisses there before working his way down to the space between her legs.

Juvia began to breathe heavier again as Gray gently pushes her thighs open and his mouth moves closer to her bare sex. As much as Gray would have loved to just dive right in with his cock, he wanted to taste her first, and he also knew that he should prepare her with foreplay before he penetrates her.

Once Gray reaches her mound he locks his eyes with hers, then he presses a kiss to her folds and she gasps. Then he gives them a long lick and she moans loudly. So he continues to lick her, and she continues to writhe on the bed in and scream his name in pleasure. She tasted divine, and he wanted every last drop of her on his tongue. As his licks got harsher and moved in-between her folds, he swiped against her clit and she cried out and arched her back, trapping his head between her thighs. He figured that was a good spot and decided to lick it more, and Juvia’s reactions told him that was definitely the right call.

“Oh Gray-sama! You’re so good to Juvia! She loves this! Give her more! Please!” She begs.

Her begging made him stick his tongue inside her entrance and she loved that. Then he took two of his fingers and replaced his tongue with them and she loved that even more. At first he was gentle, taking his time exploring sex to find her sweet spots. Once he did, he hit them hard, pumping his fingers hard and fast to bring her to a quick orgasm. Once he felt her clenching around him he licked her clit again and she screamed his name loudly and arched her back while she came.

Gray pulls his fingers out and Juvia watches with hazy, lust-filled eyes as he licks them clean. Then she reaches forward and with his nod of approval, she tugs his underwear down and his erection springs free from it’s clothed confines. Once he’s removed his underwear, Juvia gently holds it in her hand and begins to stroke it gently to get it fully hard again. It didn’t take long, because the sight of Juvia touching his dick turned Gray on a lot more than he thought. And then when she leaned forward to kiss and lick his tip, Gray moaned and had to push her back onto her back because if she took him into her mouth he was positive he would have come right then and there.

So she got herself lying in a comfortable position on her back, and spread her legs open for Gray to position himself between them. She held his shoulders and gripped them when she felt his tip press against her entrance.

“Please Gray-sama don’t tease Juvia!” she begs and Gray realized he liked how it sounded. “Just take her, she’s yours. OH!” She shouts as Gray pushes himself halfway inside of her.

“Fuck Juvia!” he groans. “You’re so tight.”

He gives her some time to adjust to his size before pushing more of himself in and she screams again as he penetrates her further.

“Does it hurt?” He asks out of concern.

“A little, but the pain doesn’t last long” Juvia assures him. “Juvia feels good now. You can continue to fuck her if you wish.”

Shit hearing her curse like that went straight to his dick and he began to thrust inside of her, pulling his dick in and out of her, both of them moaning from the friction.

While he continued his pace, he began to squeeze and suck on her breasts again and she caressed his body with her hands and her legs while he quickly brought her close to another orgasm.

“Gray-sama you feel so good inside of Juvia.” She moans into his ear as he leaves more love-bites on her neck.

“And you feel so good around me Juvia. I think I’m gonna come soon.” Gray moans.

“Juvia is too. In fact, she is right-OH!” She cries out as Gray hits her g-spot with a rough thrust and she clenches around him as she orgasms.

Her walls tightening around him triggered his orgasm as well and he gently rocked his hips against hers to ride out his high while her clenching walls milked him of his release. Once he was done, he pulls himself out and Juvia whines, feeling annoyingly empty without him inside of her, and he collapses next to her, breathing heavily and trying to regain his vision.

“Wow. That was amazing.” He says and smiles.

“Juvia agrees. Gray-sama you made her feel so good, she’s so happy you did this to her today, do you think you could do it again?” She asks and turns on her side to face him.

His dick twitches from her request but remains flaccid since he was still recovering.

“Just give me a few minutes, then we can go again” he tells her and kisses her gently. “I love you Juvia.”

“Juvia loves you too Gray-sama. Happy Valentine’s Day” she says.

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

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please comment if you liked this!

#gruvia #fairy tail #gray fullbuster #juvia loxar #lemon

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theoracleparadox · 3 years

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WIP Wednesday: Andromeda gets caught in her lies... again

The elevator soon came to a stop and Ackers led the way out. Andromeda presumed it was the same floor where the king's office was, although there was nothing different about this floor compared to any other. It was when she spotted two sentry Glaives standing at attention outside of a door that she knew they had arrived. They barely acknowledged Ackers before he knocked on the door, then opened it for Andromeda to walk through.

She entered cautiously, letting Ackers take the lead again. No one sat at the large desk; it was only when she glanced about the room that she spotted Regis standing by one of the large windows. He had taken notice of them when the door had opened. His Shield wasn't present.

Ackers bowed to the king, and Andromeda followed his movement. She still felt awkward with this formal etiquette, but at least she had the privilege of not speaking unless spoken to.

“Thank you, Ackers,” Regis moved away from the window and towards his desk. “Please wait outside.”

The Crownsguard left silently. The king sat at his desk as the door clicked shut, leaning his cane next to his chair. Andromeda sank into one of the chairs in front of the desk. As expensive as the chairs must have been, they were very uncomfortable.

“I hear you've had an interesting night so far,” Regis began, giving a gentle smile. It didn't make her feel any better.

“So far,” Andromeda mumbled.

This was going to be different from the previous meeting. It already was different without Amicita present—that fact made her feel just a little bit better. There was something about him and Leonis that only made her more guarded. They could tell truth from lies, but wouldn't believe the truth. Andromeda had no desire to be honest with them.

As it was, the night's events must have gotten Elshett in trouble with Leonis, and therefore it was what this meeting would be about. Andromeda felt her actions had been innocent enough. Regardless, she had left Elshett's sight for five minutes. A lot could happen in five minutes. It had clearly bothered the Crownsguard, and no doubt her superiors. None of them would understand why it was necessary.

“I've thought over what you said,” Regis went on. “Of course, it's only made more questions. You haven't been straightforward with us.”

This had nothing to do with the gathering. It was must worse than a chastisement for attempting to run away (which she hadn't been). Andromeda had been more honest here than she had ever been in Niflheim. The punishment for her lies would be worse here: she had lied to the king directly, rather than just his underlings. The Imperials had always threatened to hurt Linda if Andromeda wouldn't cooperate, but the Lucians actually had the power to do so. Linda was safe and happy here; the king could take that all away from her, because of Andromeda's lies.

“You know more than you say,” The king's smile faded. At least the cordial pretenses would be dropped. He had been able to see through her lies, too. “More than you should know, and about things you couldn't have found out about on your own. What do you know of the Accursed?”

Andromeda looked at the desk rather than him. “Not much. Just that he possesses magic, and he has some control over Ifrit.”

Ardyn was also full of the Scourge, so much so that he shouldn't be surviving. Andromeda had felt only a little bit of it—two winters ago, he had passed some of that infection on to her. She had gotten a glimpse of just how infected he was, yet he was somehow able to hide it. The only reason he could be alive at all was due to his status as the Accursed, a title Bahamut used that alluded to Ardyn's part in the coming prophecy. The Scourge had nothing to do with Verstael's experimenting.

Mentioning all that would create too many of the wrong questions. The Lucians didn't even have a clue that Andromeda could also heal Starscourge. Knowing how they revered the Oracle here, admitting to that power would cause a backlash. They would accuse her of being an impostor.

“He has a lot of power in the Imperial government,” Andromeda added. “He does whatever he wants.”

“So you were close to him,” Regis noted.

“I saw him once or twice before the final encounter,” She lied, despite being caught in her previous lies. “He was upset when I used my power. But he's just Bahamut's pawn.”

“You have also spoken with the Draconian more than either of you will admit,” The king acknowledged, moving on. Andromeda thought that would upset him, as only he was supposed to communicate with Bahamut, but he only seemed more curious. “He was the one who told you about the Accursed. But why?”

She didn't answer. Regis ought to have known that was a question for Bahamut. She didn't want to go into what had been spoken between her and the god. It mattered little at the moment.

“He's not the only Astral you have encountered,” He continued. “You must have seen others, for the power you possess and how much you know.”

Andromeda still remained silent. He wasn't wrong, but he also wouldn't know of Etro. Even if she had once been the patron deity of his family, countless generations ago. She had never found a book that mentioned her.

“You're protecting someone,” Her silence didn't deter Regis, but he always waited for a response. Unfortunately, they were on a topic she couldn't easily lie about. “No one outside of the royal lines is supposed to possess magic, unless a king bestows magic onto them, of course. Your magic is not something I've sense before. It's old, dark, and intense.”

It was the first time anyone had claimed to sense Etro's Blessing. It made sense that one magic user should pick up on another's power, though. Regis was onto something, and Andromeda didn't particularly like it.

“I am not your enemy,” He insisted when she still said nothing. “I want to help. I am not bound by Bahamut's will.”

“I don't need your help,” Andromeda asserted. The last thing she had wanted was the king involving himself. He didn't look as though he could offer much help: he was old and used up. He was just a prattling fool, only a little smarter than the Emperor.

Yet Regis was one of the few people that knew the prophecy so well—much more than the Imperials thought they knew, and they were not involved in it. Which reminded Andromeda of one facet she didn't know anything about: who was the Chosen King?

It was the king's turn to be silent for a moment, taken aback by her quick remark. Something seemed to dawn on him as he thought for a moment. “There's a seventh god, isn't there?”

Andromeda was silent again. How had he managed to guess in three days what took Niflheim months to witness? It was surprising that the thought would even occur to him; it went against everything the world was taught about its origin in the Cosmogony. Only a fool would consider there to be a seventh Astral, but apparently Regis was not enough of a fool to blindly believe what the canonical Six have asserted for eons.

She wouldn't confirm nor deny his question. Either option was dangerous.

He interpreted her silence as a confirmation of his theory. “You did die that day in Tenebrae, and the god resurrected you. That is who you're protecting.”

Whether she was honest or told a lie didn't seem to matter; Regis knew he had it figured out. Yet if Andromeda kept quiet, he wouldn't be able to think of more questions to ask. At least, that was what she hoped.

“You're safe here in the city,” He assured. He must have known she wanted to leave, and soon—she hadn't exactly been hiding that. Andromeda knew better than to believe the city's walls were impenetrable.

“It's just another cage,” She commented. The king wanted her to remain in his city and never use her powers again. A couple of years ago, she would have been content with that, but it would have just as soon been proven impossible. She wasn't afraid of her powers anymore. They were too useful to not be used at all.

“The Empire will never stop in their pursuit of you,” Regis warned.

“I know,” Andromeda was unbothered by it. “Keeping me here will only cause them to target the city directly. Your walls aren't enough to keep them out. Besides, like it or not, Bahamut has made us enemies. He won't tolerate my being here much longer.”

Especially not so if Etro tried to reach her. The goddess would not enter the city unless it was very important. The last they had spoken, she had warned that the days of the prophecy were quickly approaching. Andromeda felt she had already given all that she could to the king.

Regis hadn't spoken deliberately about the prophecy, but he had alluded to it enough times. The Chosen King had come from his line—he had a son somewhere in the Citadel. Did Regis know that his son was going to be sacrificed?

“We have nothing to do with the prophecy,” Andromeda stated directly, rather than the alluding they had been doing thus far. “We won't help one way or the other.”

Her tone had a finality to it as she revealed just how much she knew. Was that what he was hoping for? Did he think the circumstances around Andromeda's survival would alter the events to come? As much as Etro despised Bahamut's prophecy, she had once admitted that she was not powerful enough to do anything about it. It was best she stayed out of it—the Six had already banished her once.

“You make a strong argument,” Regis acknowledged once he was over his surprise at her sudden confidence. “Though I assure you, we are not enemies. I understand why you may think that. It's clear to everyone that you are not comfortable here. But if I release you, you will not be protected from the Empire.”

“I can handle it,” She wondered if he would truly consider letting her go. Lucis had its own magic, and therefore no need for hers. There wasn't any Scourge in the city. It wasn't as though they had protected her before.

“What of your family?”

“All I wanted to know is that my aunt is here and happy. She's the one that needs protecting.” Andromeda explained. She still did not expect to see her again, and was content with that. It was for the best.

Regis thought for a moment with a frown. “I'll consider it. You may go. Officer Ackers is waiting outside.”

Trying to keep her relief from showing, Andromeda stood from the chair. She bowed, recalling what she had seen Elshett and Ackers do. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Not a moment later, she was closing the door behind herself. The Glaives stirred slightly and Ackers was surprised by her sudden appearance. She assumed they had all stood guard the whole time. From the looks of it, Ackers was not a very interesting person. He began leading her down the hall, towards the elevators again.

“Coffee?” He offered.

Andromeda shook her head. “I'm ready to call it a night.”

She had been ready before the king decided that he needed to speak with her immediately. It had already been late when she and Elshett came back to the Citadel; she didn't know how long that meeting had gone on for. It didn't leave much time left for Andromeda to dreamwalk. She already felt too exhausted to accomplish much.

Once at the elevators, they went down a couple of floors. It wasn't a long walk before they came across a door guarded by a Glaive, which Andromeda was beginning to recognize as her room. She hoped she didn't have many more nights left of her stay.

After a brief good night, she was finally alone. As much as she wanted to just crawl into bed, she took a shower first as a way to relax after everything that had happened.

Andromeda still expected some trouble from the gathering in the Galahdian neighborhood. Why else did Elshett have to rush off to speak with Leonis as soon as they returned to the Citadel? She hoped Elshett wasn't in too much trouble with her superiors for her little stunt. Leonis and Amicita weren't pleasant men.

In speaking with the king alone, Andromeda had been more honest with him than she had wanted to be. At the same time, though, she had to admit that it hadn't been as bad as she had thought it would be. Lucis wasn't Niflheim. Regis might listen to her—even if she had said some things he hadn't wanted to hear.

Keeping the shower short, Andromeda finally flopped down onto the bed. She felt her exhaustion even more intensely. Still thinking back to her meeting with the king, she decided to just go to sleep.

#wip wednesday #my fanfic #I already finished this chapter #I can finally go over what's already written and fix up the rest of the fic #hmmm why does this scene feel so familiar?

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ft-dads-au · 4 years

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Come Into Bloom

Femslash Fairies 2020 Prompt: Flower Shop Pairing: Erza x Mirajane A Collaboration by @mdelpin and @oryu404 AO3 | FF.Net September 25, 2021

“It’s getting pretty crowded out there,” Sherry commented to Erza as she looked out the shop window.

“Hopefully, that will be good for us,” Erza mumbled as she worked on another corsage, this one a pretty combination of lavender and pink flowers.

They were right in the middle of Fantasia, the biggest flower holiday of the year. Unlike Valentine’s Day, which was mostly targeted at lovers, Fantasia was meant for everyone. It was just as likely for a father to give a token to his children, as to his partner, or even his own parents.

Erza had already made Natsu's order that morning, a beautiful flower crown for Hana, as well as a large bouquet for Gray. Atlas, Aki and the twins were getting some flower-shaped cookies that Mira and Elfman had baked and decorated for the boys the previous night as they were a little too young to appreciate flowers.

“Isn’t it about time for Mira to get here?” Sherry asked her employer, smiling as Erza’s hands immediately went to her hair.

“Oh yes, you’re right,” Erza looked back down at her work table not wanting to give away her agitation.

“It’s so nice that you two make a habit of having lunch together every Saturday,” Sherry enthused, with hearts in her eyes. “Are you getting her something for Fantasia?”

“I uhm, hadn’t thought about it,” Erza lied, not wanting to admit that she had spent hours trying to devise the perfect bouquet of flowers. One that would let Mira know once and for all how she felt about her, but with all the orders she needed to fill plus walk-ins, there had been no time. It was only her and Sherry, and she couldn’t afford to hire more employees.

She’d started working at Rose of Yūen during her college days, and once she’d graduated, she’d bought it from the elderly couple who had owned it. It was her pride and joy, but it also took up a lot of her time, the rest of which was usually claimed by her brother and niece and nephew.

Which is how she had ended up pining for the same woman for years and finding multiple excuses to do nothing about it.

The tinkling of the shop’s door alerted them to a visitor, and Sherry went to help their customer, knowing that Erza was about to go on her lunch break. Erza smiled, remembering the special order she had hidden in her office cooler. Ren Akatsuki, Sherry’s husband, would be by to pick it up as soon as Sherry went on her own break.

That was one of the things she loved about having the shop. Most of the time, she got to see the best in people. The shy teenage boy anxiously looking for a corsage for his first date, the elderly couples that were still madly in love with each other even after a lifetime together and everything in between.

There was Rogue Eucliffe who special ordered flowers from Edolas, to give his husband a taste of his home country. And Alzack Connell, who bought flowers for both his wife and daughter at least once a month and would probably stop in today.

Even couples who were rekindling a love thought lost long ago. Silver Fullbuster and Gildarts Clive were probably some of her favorite customers, always coming in full of boisterous insults towards the other, yet the love in their eyes was unmistakable.

In fact, it seemed like everyone around her was either in love or starting a relationship. Even her brother, who had unexpectedly become a widower last year, had already found someone. While Erza remained forever alone.

She was done with that though, after spending the last eight years building up her business and helping Natsu get back on his feet, it was time to do something for herself. To stop pining for her best friend and try her own hand at love. If she didn’t do something soon someone was likely to whisk Mira off her feet, and she’d have no one to blame but herself.

It was while she was lost in these thoughts that Erza felt a soft tap on her shoulder. She looked up to see Mira smiling at her, “You always get so lost in your flowers. I’m gonna go set these up in your office, okay?”

Mira moved towards the office without waiting for Erza's approval, a bag of food from Fairy Tail in each hand. When she noticed Erza wasn’t following, she called behind her, “Hurry up, I brought you a surprise, but if you make me wait too long, I’ll eat it myself!”

Erza put her tools down and scrambled, knowing there was a good chance the surprise was strawberry cake, and she wasn’t about to give that up.

Her office wasn’t very large, but there was enough room for her desk and chair, a watercooler and a small round table with two plastic chairs. Mira had already set out the food, rolling her eyes when Erza’s eyes were already on the two slices of cake that were visible inside a clear plastic container. “How you don’t weigh 300 pounds, I’ll never know,” Mira giggled.

Erza ignored the comment, digging into the chicken pot pie Mira had brought. “Mhmm, this is really good!” she complimented, closing her eyes to savor all the different flavors.

“Yeah, I remembered it was your favorite. I changed the recipe up a little, made it lighter, and the crust a little flakier.”

“Whatever you did, it’s amazing!”

“You really are as bad as Natsu, just as messy too,” Mira laughed fondly, grabbing a napkin from the bag and handing it to Erza, who had sauce dripping down her chin, before taking a bite from her own dish.

“Have you been very busy today with Fantasia?” Mira asked curiously.

“Yeah, a lot of walk-ins, lots of special requests too,” Erza replied, continuing to eat, “What about you guys?”

“It’s still a little early for the drinking crowd, but the restaurant was pretty busy, they had Natsu subbing in for a waiter that called in sick, at least until the bar needs him back. That was uhm, interesting,” Mira’s eyes twinkled with mirth, “Good thing he’s an excellent bartender.”

She leaned forward in her chair, curious as always, “What kinds of special requests?”

“Well, different flowers can mean different things, it’s almost like a language all its own. Like those flowers that Rogue gets for Sting? Those mean everlasting love.”

“Why am I not surprised? Those two are sickening,” Mira snorted, “Is there one that means I really kind of just like you as a friend?”

“Well, there’s yellow roses, they’re not associated with romance. Oh, and alstroemeria,” Erza recited, clarifying when she saw Mira’s blank expression,” It’s a type of lily.”

She got up and opened one of her desk drawers, grabbing a book and bringing it back to the table. She looked through it until she found a picture of the flower she had mentioned and showed it to Mira.

It was a beautiful flower that came in a variety of bright colors, with center petals that had contrasting stripes. Mira studied the picture, and it’s given description curiously, but her attention was soon drawn by other flowers on the page.

"Wow, I never knew that there was so much symbolism behind flowers," she mused as she turned the page, "It’s a lot more complicated than I’d thought.” She looked up at Erza, a devious smirk on her lips and a twinkle of mischief in her eyes that Erza found really adorable, but also a tad bit troubling. “Hey, are there any flowers that have an offensive meaning?”

Erza snorted, immediately thinking about the first time Gildarts had come to her shop with a similar question, “Look up yellow carnations.”

“Disappointment and rejection? Ouch!” Mira giggled, and the sound translated into butterflies in Erza’s stomach. “So, do you know all of these by heart?”

“I know most of them, but there are so many variations, and each color often has its own meaning-”

Before Erza had the chance to get lost in the passion she had for her job, she was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Erza, I’m sorry to disrupt your lunch, but do you think you could come out here for a few minutes? There are several customers and another special order,” Sherry looked apologetic.

While slightly disappointed, Erza didn’t mind too much, she’d already known it was probably going to be a busy day.

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to hurry,” Erza apologized to Mira, wiping her face with the napkin before getting up from the table and rushing out the door, a smile already on her face.

Mira continued eating, grabbing the book Erza had left on the table and flipping through its pages, the beginnings of an idea blooming in her mind.

Erza never returned to finish her lunch, and eventually, Mira had to go back to work, so she cleaned up, putting Erza’s food in her small fridge and leaving both pieces of cake for her to eat later.

Mira hurried to the door waving goodbye to both Sherry and Erza on her way out.

0-0

It had been a long day, both Erza and Sherry had been going nonstop, although Erza insisted Sherry take her break if only so she could get Ren his flowers.

They had sold out of everything in the refrigerators and had to scramble to replenish them. Erza felt like she had seen just about everyone in town. Loke came in to get corsages and flower crowns for his daughters, and a small bouquet for Lucy.

Silver and Gildarts had come in with Rogue and the kids, along with an order from Gray for Natsu. Lyon had surprised both her and Sherry by coming in to get something for Chelia. That had probably been her favorite moment of the day, watching the usually stoic Lyon acting nervous and awkward as he tried to find something special for the daughter he’d just discovered he had.

Almost as lovely as watching Sherry help him pick something Chelia would like. Alzack, Macao, Warren, Cana, Juvia, the list went on and on. About the only person she hadn’t seen was Sting.

Almost as if on cue, Sting raced in, hair disheveled, breathing in gasps and eyeing her worriedly, “Am I too late?”

“You’re fine,” Erza assured him, “We don’t close for another hour.”

“Oh, good. Rogue has the car, and I had to run here from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” Erza’s eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re an idiot, you should have taken a taxi or something.”

“No, there’s a ton of traffic, they’re starting to close off the streets for tonight’s events.”

“I see,” She went into her office returning with a folding chair and a cup of water. ”Sit.”

“Now, what nauseatingly romantic thing are you wanting this time?” she teased.

“Well, Rogue’s playing his first gig tonight since forever,” Sting’s eyes blazed with pride, “So here’s what I was thinking.”

And as he began telling her what he wanted, she wasn’t disappointed. They chatted as she worked on Rogue’s flowers, and when the phone rang, Sherry answered it.

“Alright, I’ll give her your order, thanks!” Sherry spoke into the phone, “What’s that? Oh, yeah, got it! Don’t forget Hana’s flower crown, okay. No, he already paid for that as well as Gray’s arrangement. Thanks, Mira!”

“What do you think?” Erza showed Sting her finished arrangement, and his wide grin made her smile wistfully. She handed the flowers over and reminded Sherry to give him the frequent customer/family discount.

“Are you going to meet with us later?” Sting peered at her from behind the enormous bouquet, which Erza already knew Rogue was going to have a hard time moving around with. Hopefully, they’d thought to bring the stroller.

“I’m not sure yet, I have to go to Fairy Tail to drop off Natsu’s stuff, I’ll decide then.”

“Does that mean you’ll decide when you know whether Mira is going?” Sting regarded her with a knowing grin. “Seriously, Erza, are you ever going to do something? Your brother has discovered a whole new sexuality in the time it’s taken you to make a move.”

“Go away, Sting,” Erza muttered in annoyance but mostly because she knew he was right.

“Well, I hope you come,” Sting entreated, “it will be fun to have everyone together.” He struggled to balance the flowers in one arm as he paid for them and then left, nearly missing the door and walking into the wall because of the obstructed view.

Erza shook her head as she watched him leave, reminded of how similar he sometimes was to her brother. Filled with enthusiasm and energy, a bit silly, but with a good heart. They were also amazingly devoted partners, which was reflected in their grand romantic gestures.

How she’d wanted to do something special for Mira, she thought sadly. Maybe there was still time! But before she could give it any real thought, Sherry had given her the order she’d taken over the phone. It was for Mirajane Strauss.

Erza read the names of the flowers listed on the order again: red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. She scrunched up her face in distaste at the combination.

“You’re sure these are the flowers she wanted?” she challenged.

“Yep, she was especially adamant about the red tulips,” Sherry informed her.

Red tulips, red roses, gardenias, and amaryllis. Four species of flowers that looked so vastly different from each other that Erza wasn’t even sure she could combine them into an arrangement that would actually be aesthetically pleasing. But it was for Mira, so she was going to give it her absolute best.

It was for Mira.

Wait a second… Erza listed the order in her head once again with growing anxiety. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Mira had requested these flowers after she’d been looking in that book Erza had shown her during lunch break. They all referred to deep love, affection, and attraction. It was a love confession hastily pieced together in flower meanings.

Shit! Erza’s heart pounded in her chest, the fear that she might have waited too long making her feel light-headed. Who were these flowers for? Erza wracked her brain to think of anyone Mira might have mentioned recently. Mira worked at Fairy Tail, she got hit on constantly, but she usually just laughed it off.

They’d both dated people casually over the years, but it never lasted long, and they always returned to their comfortable camaraderie, laughing at how there was no one out there for them. Although in Erza’s case, what she really meant was there’s no one out there for me but you.

She reviewed the meanings in her head.

Red tulips - a declaration of love, perfect love

Red roses - the most classic of all expressions of love, a child could tell you what it meant.

Gardenias- a symbol of purity and sweetness

Amaryllis - splendid beauty

Every one of these flowers was like a stab to her heart.

“Did uhm, did she say she was picking these up herself?”

“No, she asked that you bring it to Fairy Tail along with Natsu’s stuff,” Sherry answered moving towards the back of the shop, where they kept overstock and orders they didn’t want to be mixed in with sale items, “I’m going to get his things from the back now.”

“Ah, okay, thank you,” Erza muttered, gripping the edges of the table tightly.

“Are you okay?” Sherry hovered over her in concern.

“I’m fine, just a little tired,” Erza smiled weakly.

“Do you want me to take over?”

“No!” Erza replied quickly, “It’s for Mira, I should be the one to do it.”

Sherry didn’t look convinced by her assurances, but she went into Erza’s office, returning with a glass of water and the box containing the cakes Mira had left for her. “Here, eat something, you never even finished your lunch. I’ll go pick the flowers, and you can arrange them, alright?”

Erza nodded gratefully, sitting down on the chair she had brought out for Sting. She opened the container, eating her cake but for once, finding no joy in it. She still managed to eat both pieces by the time Sherry came back, arms laden with the requested flowers.

“I’m going to lock the door. Otherwise, we’ll never be able to leave,” Sherry called over her shoulder.

Erza didn’t answer, already busy with the flowers on her work table. Well, there was nothing she could do; if Mira had given her heart to another, then she would just have to accept it. Mira deserved all the happiness in the world. They would still be friends and aunts to Natsu’s children.

She would make Mira the most beautiful bouquet that could possibly be made with these flowers, and she would even add her own well wishes to it.

“Sherry? Can you get me some red peonies, please?”

“Just a minute, I’m getting Natsu’s order.”

Erza arranged and rearranged, not satisfied with her efforts. She jumped when Sherry arrived with the flowers she’s asked for.

“More red?” Sherry wrinkled her nose in distaste, “Are you sure that’s what you want? That bouquet does not exactly scream love.”

“Actually, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” Erza disagreed, showing her the piece of paper that she’d scribbled the order on. “The red peonies are to wish her luck.”

“Oh! Oh,” Sherry frowned, realizing what Erza was saying. She was about to say something else when there was a tapping on the door. A quick peek showed Ren and Chelia waiting for her outside.

“Do you want me to stay with you?” Sherry asked in a soft voice, “I can ask them to come back later.”

“Nonsense, go have fun with your family, I’ll see you on Monday!”

Sherry didn’t look convinced, but she gave Erza a hug, letting herself out and locking the door from the outside.

With no one left to act tough for, Erza let her tears flow as she continued to work, arranging and rearranging once again until she was satisfied.

0-0

Mira stood next to Natsu, both trying to stay on top of all the customers that had flooded the bar. She was growing increasingly nervous the closer it got to the end of her shift, knowing Erza would show up any minute. She’d bungled up more orders than she could count, having to resort to shameless flirting to keep from getting in trouble. Noticing her state, Natsu took pity on her, asking her to prep fruit for him while he handled the drink orders.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he assured her with one of his smiles, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze before moving on to a customer that was calling for his attention.

For most people, being handed a knife while they were in turmoil was a terrible idea, but for Mira, who had a knife in hand as often as not, it was fine. The repetitive action of cutting the lemons, limes, and oranges needed for drink garnishes was relaxing.

When she’d arrived back at work from her interrupted lunch with Erza, she had been excited about her idea. She’d written down the names of a bunch of flowers and their meanings, trying to construct a love confession in a language Erza would be sure to understand.

A few hours later, she had been wavering, scared that maybe she’d been reading the signals wrong all these years. If she went through with her plan, she would only be exposing herself to heartbreak and ruining the beautiful friendship she and Erza had worked so hard to sustain over the years.

There had always been so many reasons for Mira not to start anything. At first, it had been because they hadn’t exactly hit it off in the beginning. Then, when that had changed, it was because she was trying to sort out the mess Elfman had gotten himself into, especially after it had caused Lisanna to run away in fear. To Edolas, where she was followed by Natsu, and about two years later, they got married.

It had felt awkward to ask Erza out once they were linked by family, so Mira had dated others instead, trying to distance herself from the love and attraction she felt for Erza. None of them had worked out. Her heart just hadn’t been in them, and when the years hadn’t worn down her feelings one bit, she’d begun to think maybe it was time to take a chance.

But then Lisanna had died, and Mira had been grieving and trying to be there for Natsu, who was clearly falling apart. It was a new excuse but one that felt valid. After all, if she acted now and things didn’t work out between them, it would affect Hana and Atlas, which wasn’t fair to them. The last thing they needed was for their aunts, who each fulfilled a part of a female role model they missed so deeply, to be the cause of uncomfortable tensions.

Sharing babysitting duties with Erza and helping raise the kids had been fun, bringing them even closer together, but also filling Mira’s head with visions of what it might be like if the kids they were taking care of were theirs instead.

But it had been watching Natsu find love again with Gray that had truly sparked her to want to make her own move. If Gray, who had just come out of what was arguably the worst relationship ever, was willing to take a chance on a Dragneel, then why not her? And if Natsu, whose whole life had been turned upside down when he lost his wife granted himself another shot at love, then why shouldn’t she?

It felt right. Maybe that was just Mira's inner hopeless romantic speaking, but it spoke loud and clear, and she was done ignoring it. Besides, they had both turned thirty that year. Not that Mira felt old or anything, but she sure as hell wasn’t getting any younger either. She’d been looking forward to starting a family of her own for so long now. All she needed was someone amazing to start it with.

And Erza was amazing. She was smart, beautiful, and kind, and she had this awkward vulnerability that was incredibly endearing. Which was not to say that Mira wasn’t aware of her faults, like her stubbornness, and her fiery temper.

Mira knew that Erza wasn’t perfect, she was just perfect for her.

It had been Natsu who had encouraged her to make the call, telling her she would never know if she didn’t try, and Fantasia was a perfect occasion. He’d looked over the flowers she had jotted down, making his own suggestions.

“Here, do these. There’s no way she could mistake it,” Natsu assured her.

“How can you be so sure?” Mira asked, eyebrow raised in question.

“Because they all clash horribly in a mess of red that no sane person would ever like,” Natsu’s eyes crinkled with merriment.

Mira stared at him in disbelief and then began to laugh, “Is that what you did with Gray?”

“No, we were just honest with each other, but you two suck at that so gaudy bouquet it is!”

Mira had swatted at him playfully, but she had to admit he was right, she and Erza never seemed to be able to tell each other how they felt about each other, always tiptoeing around anything that might upset the balance they had achieved.

So she had made the call, relieved to hear Sherry’s cheerful voice answer the phone and now there was nothing left to do except wait.

Mira had sliced enough fruit to keep the night shift bartenders going through their entire shift, and still, Erza hadn’t arrived. She could see Makarov and Porlyusica already waiting outside with Atlas, Hana, and Wendy. Had she been held up at the shop?

A few minutes later, there was an unmistakable flash of scarlet, and she could see Erza talking to her foster parents, arms full of packages, with both kids latching on to her excitedly.

“You ready to go?” Natsu asked, signaling the end of their shift.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose,” Mira sighed, the natural confidence she usually exuded escaping her for once.

Natsu snickered and grabbed her hand, pulling her behind him as he weaved his way out of the crowded bar and to their waiting family. They were the last to arrive, and Mira was pleased to see that Gray had joined them, even if he was wearing a cap and large sunglasses. Elfman had made it too. Natsu let go of her hand, heading to Erza and asking for his purchases.

Once Erza had finished helping Natsu, she turned towards Mira. “I brought your order too, even added a touch of red peonies for luck,” she chirped with a fake cheerfulness that confused Mira, as she accepted the bouquet she had ordered.

She examined the flowers in her hand and immediately saw what Natsu had meant. As much as Erza had obviously tried to make the flowers she had requested look as appealing as possible, it was a cacophony of contrasting reds, loud and garish. Those flowers had no business being together. And apparently, Erza had felt the need to add her own touch to the mix, yet another red flower.

What the heck? Red peonies for luck? What did she need luck for?

Erza refused to meet her eyes, and if it hadn’t been for that odd phrase, Mira would have expected some yellow carnations in her future. When she looked at her more closely, Mira saw that Erza’s eyes were puffy as if she’d been crying recently.

Did something happen?

“Luck?” Mira blinked owlishly, trying to understand what was going through Erza’s mind.

“Yes, for you. So that you get the answer you want from whoever you give those to,” Erza managed an awkward smile that tore at Mira’s heart as she finally put two and two together.

“Whoever I give them to?” A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. The hilarity of the situation too much for her to handle. Here she’d thought she’d been as brazen as could be, and all she’d accomplished was to make Erza think they were for someone else.

Erza didn’t seem to know how to react to Mira’s outburst. She peered at her before once again looking down.

“They’re for you, you dummy,” Mira wiped her eyes, trying to ignore the fact that everyone in their group was staring at them with either curious eyes or knowing smiles.

“F-for me?” Erza stammered, her face turning as bright red as her hair once she realized her mistake. A tentative smile crossed her lips.

“Yes, for you,” Mira repeated, handing the bouquet over to Erza with a grin, waiting for her to say something.

“Did your added luck work in my favor?” Mira teased when Erza remained silent, although truth be told, she was starting to feel nervous.

Tears shimmered in Erza’s eyes as she nodded happily, taking out one last item from the bag she had brought from the store and handing it to Mira. It was the most beautiful bouquet Mira had ever seen, and she didn’t have to know anything about flowers to understand that Erza had poured all of herself into it.

They stared at each other, frozen in place by all the years they had spent hoping for this moment, imagining it in hundreds of different ways. Both desperate to take the next step but also terrified of what it would mean.

“Just kiss already,” Hana’s voice startled both of them out of their reverie, followed by the well-meaning laughs of their family and closest friends. She might have been only eight years old, but she’d managed to say what they had all been thinking.

So Erza and Mira did, neither one sure of who took the first step towards the other, or who’s lips pressed against who’s first. All they knew was that as awkward as the moment was, it was also perfect.

They were soon surrounded by the loud congratulations and, in some cases, happy tears of their family. Even though they were out in public, the promise of what was to come enough to make them both smile radiantly.

For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed the festivities with the others, walking hand in hand through the streets of Magnolia. They fed each other snacks from the many food carts that had gathered around the city center, watched Phantom Lord's live performance, slow dancing to some of their songs, and topping off the evening with soft kisses underneath the fireworks.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with more than they could’ve hoped for, but they both couldn't help but look forward to the moment when they were finally alone and could express their feelings more privately.

@femslashfairies

#fairy tail #ftdadsau #femslashfairies2020 #erzajane #ftlgbtales #fics #prompt: flower shop

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

Text

Stay For A While

Notes: I had a really really awful day and this was in my drafts, so here we go.

Ronan’s never really noticed how pungent the scent of hospitals are, the eerily clean surfaces that are masked with the smell of the residue of the alcohol remover Blue uses to clean off her nails once she inevitably gets bored of which ever eccentric color she’d chosen for that week. (Ronan remembers a particularly amusing night at Monmouth when Henry had dared Ronan to drink the bottle whole, to which Blue— pixie sized and never putting up with any amount of shit— cuffed them both on the back of the heads scoldingly, “You can’t drink it asshole, it’s like poisonous.”)

Idly, Ronan thinks that he’d rather chug down ten complete bottles of that shit instead of sitting here in this utter hell hole of a waiting room, the smell of antiseptics clogging his nostrils and glaringly florescent lights pounding down on him and a swarm of strangers trying to catch his eye for polite, if not a bit flirtatious, small talk. All just to wait for some fucking quack to tell him what half a dozen others said before. That Opal’s condition is to severe, to intensive, too unstructured. For this prick to tell Ronan that the technology just isn’t here yet and that they should just give it a rest already.

God fucking damn it, Ronan hates this place, hates all the memories it evokes and the literal hopelessness that’s woven into it. He hates it even more that he fucking let Gansey talk him into meeting with this fucking prick of a doctor, getting his hopes up and making Ronan actually believe this Parrish douche is worth meeting with.

“He’s a class act Ronan, truly,” Gansey had crowed in that uniquely Gansey way of his— all American charm and boyishly enthused smile. “Carruthers had sung his praises to us for so long that I simply insisted he came to Lucy’s christening a bit ago.”

That’s when Ronan had cocked a brow at his oldest friend, unconvinced that Helen of all people would allow any riffraff to puncture her picture perfect soiree for her picture perfect daughter to show off her picture perfect life.

“I bet princess wasn’t to happy with that impromptu invitation?”

“That was until she met the boy,” Gansey had corrected a bit too cheekily for Ronan’s liking, finger waggling in the space between them and it took all Ronan had not to bite it right off. “Carruthers was right on! Parrish is a magnificent specimen, and smart as a whip too!”

“What a dreamboat,” said Ronan, deadpanned and wondering if he’ll ever be over Gansey’s theatrics. (Most likely not on account of his loving the dip-shit like a fourth brother.)

“You know he got his medical degree from Harvard? And his undergraduate at Princeton?”

“Gee Gansey, I’m swooning.”

“Well don’t fall in love with him quite yet,” Gansey had chuckled good naturedly with a patting to Ronan’s shoulder. “I reckon you’ll need him for another, much more important reason.” Ronan just furrowed his brows, not bothering to show any actual interest, and Gansey just flashed him a row of pearly whites in turn. “You’ll never believe his senior year thesis was about? Fibula Hemimelia.”

Ronan’s heart had lodged in his throat and he suddenly, foolishly, felt a surge of pure hope. So Gansey had set up everything. He had scheduled the meeting for a day he knew Opal didn’t have school and Ronan didn’t have work, he had called to send over Opal’s medical history, and on top of it all Gansey had convinced Ronan that continuing to try was better than to give up, and Ronan had agreed. That’s why he’s sitting in this hell hole now, glower securely set on his face and simultaneously watching Opal as she built and destroyed her lego towers, while staving off any too curious onlookers.

Finally— mercifully— A kind faced nurse had called out, “Opal L,” and they were being dashed off behind the doors to get all the preliminary numbers before being lead into the quacks office.

“Don’t break any of his shit,” Ronan tells Opal as she made her way to the corner where some blocks and puzzles were set out, crushes and all.

It’s another ten minutes of waiting until the door swings open and a low, molasses smooth voice greets them good morning while taking a seat in his desk. And well…. He’s all cutting cheekbones and piercing eyes and his hair’s the same color as the caramel cubes that Arora use to set out for guests back in the barns when Ronan was a kid. Ronan feels a instant pulsing of white hot hatred towards Gansey at this exact moment for not giving him the heads up that this Parrish fuck is only moonlighting as a doctor while actually having a career in modeling or some shit.

“G’morning,” he holds out his all too attractive hand, and Ronan pretends his insides aren’t imploding while he gives it one quick, savage shake. “I’m Dr Parrish, and you must be Ronan Lynch?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful,” if Parrish was put off by Ronan’s standoffish demeanor, he doesn’t show it, just continues on speaking in that crisp cadence that Ronan thinks all doctors have mastered in one way or the other, and goes back to flipping through the blindingly yellow binder in his grasp. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries, or puts on a facade with some overly cheerful smile and Ronan appreciates him for it, he’s gone through too many stilted conversations of a blank eyed doctor telling him that there’s no hope with an uncomfortably large smile threatening to split their faces in half.

Ronan much prefers the touch of realism that Parrish is offering up.

“So is it just you for today or are we waiting for Mom?”

“Mom doesn’t exist,” Ronan says, words clipped— He reckons he’ll never not be irritated by that automatic assumption, even when it’s ridiculously pretty doctors making them.

Parrish quirks a brow at him and Ronan relents, just slightly.

“She was an orphan till I adopted her a few years ago, so it’s just me.”

“Oh, I see,” Ronan pretends his chest doesn’t totally contract at the sight of the other man’s small, thin lipped smile that makes his eyes shimmer a thousand splendid shades of blue and green and violet. “My apologies.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m turning seven in three weeks.” Opal, excited for a new audience, announces with a manic grin, her ash blonde hair tugged out it’s ponytail and her big brown eyes gazing at the doctor like he’s one of her dolls.

“No way, really?” Parrish says, and if Ronan thought his small, privately impressed smile was charming, it’s nothing on the one he’s beaming at Opal with right now. It’s beautiful in its unadulterated sincerity, in the way it crinkles the corners of his wide eyes and brightens his countenance ten fold. Ronan inwardly thinks that the grin is one he doesn’t dole out that often, which is a real shame because Dr Parrish’s dimples should probably be declared an eighth wonder of the world by who ever the fuck decides on that sort of shit.

“You must be Opal.”

“Are you my new doctor?” She asks, abrasive if it weren’t coupled with her toothy smile.

“Yes, I think I am, if you’ll have me?”

“Cool,” Opal marvels. “Will you actually help me?”

There’s an instant tautness to the air that Opal, in all her childhood obliviousness, doesn’t notice, but Parrish doesn’t let it linger.

“I certainly hope so.”

Adequately convinced, Opal pivots around and returns to her puzzle.

The next hour is composed of Ronan answering questions he’s been asked a million other times, (“Yes, it’s the left leg. Yes, the bone is completely missing and her foot’s heel is ruptured as well. Yes I know that some doctors have suggested removing the leg completely and replacing it with a prosthetic, but i already told you that they’re all fucking stupid and lazy, and I already said I want to exhaust all options until I consider it.”)

“I hope we don’t have to get to that point,” Parrish says like an oath and Ronan knows it in his bones that Parrish— Adam according to the admittedly impressive array of degrees adorned on his wall, can’t promise anything to him or Opal in so many words, but it doesn’t stop him from believing that Adam could actually do what the others couldn’t.

For the next quarter of an hour Adam examines Opal’s leg and takes notes in a scrawl Ronan doubts anyone could ever actually transcribe, until he’s seemingly satisfied.

They make an appointment for next Tuesday, giving Parrish enough time to examine all the information he’s gathered, and can talk to Ronan about the options on the table for Opal.

“Alright, see you then doc.”

“Adam. You can just call me Adam.”

Ronan just snorts, derisive, before carting Opal out of the room.

“You think he’s cute,” she preens.

“Shut your trap,” Ronan hisses. THat doesn’t stop Opal singing some ridiculous nursery rhymes about trees and kissing and babies all the way home.

Next time they meet is right after Ronan drops Opal off to school, and Adam looks just as competent and put together as the last time. He explains each possibility with no inflection, just straight facts for Ronan to take in and comprehend however he’d like.

“So either way it’s surgery,” Ronan bristles.

“If you want to avoid the prosthetic, yes. You can either continue with the latter which would slow down the growth of her right leg so that the left could catch up, or we can conduct several procedures in the next few years adding to the length of the left to match that of the right.”

“That sounds like mumbo jumbo shit to me,” Ronan bites out, trying his best not to sound as frustrated and frightened as he feels. Though the way Adam’s ordinarily stoic looking expression softens ever so slightly, tells Ronan that he’s doing a pretty shit job at it.

“I know it’s a difficult decision, especially when it’s for your kid,” Adam’s voice ripples right then but it immediately goes back to it’s typical, low timbre. Ronan doesn’t probe. “But I assure you that which ever decision you make it’ll be the right one.”

“How? How do you know that?” Ronan asks, challenging.

“Opal’s young, and healthy. She’s still growing, both procedures are optimal when that’s still a major factor. And besides, it’s clear that you love her. You know what’s best for her because you’ll do your research.”

There’s a different stillness to the air than there was last week, but Ronan doesn’t think it’s any less charged.

“When do you need an answer?”

“As soon as possible. We want to make sure we can get the best feasible results.”

“Fine.” Ronan gets up to leave but is stopped by Adam calling after him.

“I’m always a resource if you need it.”

Ronan doesn’t reply, just purses his lips before snatching the card Adam holds out for him and swaggers out with a thousand different thoughts swarming in his head, ones about Opal. About her leg. About the healing process, the tole it’d have on her. How she’s so small and delicate already, About Dr Adam Parrish and his pretty eyes.

Ronan realizes about half way to work that Adam had written his personal cell number on the back, and pretends that his cheeks aren’t blazing red, chides at himself that he’s only Opal’s doctor. That’s all.

It’s for Opal, that’s it.

“I like Dr Parrish.”

Ronan starts at the non sequitur, eyeing Opal like she’s grown a second head right here in the middle of Nino’s while they wait for their pizzas to take to Gansey’s place. After weeks of paper work and consultations and check ups, Opal’s first official surgery would be taking place tomorrow afternoon and they all agreed it calls for celebration.

“Okay… That was random.”

“Nah-uh,” she peevishly sniffs, lips twisted in irritation— Ronan doesn’t give a fuck about DNA because that’s straight out of his playbook. “Look!”

He follows her insistent finger pointing onto the distance through the window, just making out the sight of none other than Adam fucking Parrish strolling down the street, dying afternoon light dancing golden in his hair and touching the tops of his cheekbones… It’s all very cinematic if Ronan’s being at all honest.

“Imma say hi,” Opal announces, and before Ronan can tell her to sit her ass down she’s dashing off through the doors and stopping him in his tracks.

“Damn it,” Ronan curses under his breath before saddling up behind her.

“Dr Parrish!”

Jolting back, Adam scans his surroundings before finally casting his gaze down to find pipe sized Opal smiling up at him, and by rote, he returns the expression.

“Opal!”

“Daddy didn’t believe me but I saw you all the way from inside,” she tells him pridefully, and Ronan only roles his eyes heavenwards.

“Good eye,” Adam says, crouching down so that they’re level.

“What are you doing at Nino’s?”

“I reckon I’m doing the same thing as you and your pops here.”

“Getting dinner and teasing Aunty Blue for working here when she was little?”

Adam cuts a glance at Ronan, silent question of “What the fuck,” painted all over his features.

“It’s done lovingly.” He says in a monotone and no. Ronan absolutely does not feel the flutterings of butterflies swarming down deep at Adam’s bemused laughter.

“You should come to Uncle Gansey’s house!” Opal crows. “He’s throwing a party for me cuz of my op-op-peratoin tomorrow!”

“Operation,” Ronan softly corrects.

“Oh yeah that!” Opal squawks.

“That’s really cool Opal, I’m glad that they’re doing that for ya.” Adam says, utterly sincere.

“So you’ll come!”

“Yeah doc, come and get boozed up before the surgery,” Ronan says, only partially teasing.

“Sorry Opal darling,” Adam says, lips pouting. “I promised an old friend that I’d actually eat out with them, and I seriously doubt that your Dad or Uncle or whom ever would appreciate me crashing in on your family time.”

Opal looks grief-stricken and Ronan privately thinks he feels the same.

“My birthday then!” Opal proclaims.

“It’s after the surgery and it’s not until next week and could you come please!”

“Ah,” Adam’s eyes surreptitiously flutter over to Ronan, seeking permission.

“There could never be enough guests,” he says, totally flat.

“Alrighty then, I’d be honored to come Opal.”

“Yay!” She tackles into Adam for a quick embrace and then leaps into Ronan’s arms over the excitement.

“Oh Parrish, just heads up, the themes Disney Princesses, and the invitations explicitly dictate that everyone dresses up.”

Adam glares nastily at Ronan but then just tosses Opal a thumbs up, Ronan translates it for the bird he’d rather be tossing him.

Ronan admits that he regrets everything the moment Adam fucking Parrish strolls into his house wearing a shit eating grin, and a full on Prince Philip costume— tights and all.

Everything in the procedure went as wonderfully as anyone could’ve hoped, so Opal— dawning a sparkling pink princess dress— promenaded through the party in the Barns with a huge smile on her face and a sharpie pen so that all her guests would sign her cast, a beaming Blue pushing her along in the tiny wheelchair the hospital provided. But even with how precious she looks, and the excited thrumming in the air, all Ronan could focus on is fucking god damn Adam Parrish.

“Lynch,” he says in greeting, swinging around a large, wrapped box. Ronan jutted his chin to the table carrying the rest of the gifts and Adam dropped it off before returning to his side.

“Lovely place you got here.”

“If that was your attempt at small talk, you’re shit at it.” Is how Ronan chooses to reply.

Something warm and splendid coils somewhere deep in Ronan’s gut at the sound of Adam’s miraculous peals of laughter.

“You’re such a shit.”

Ronan feels charged by that one comment.

“Oh, so Doc’s got a little bite all of a sudden?”

“Always have,” Adam corrects in that detached, ever amused way of his. “Only thing was that you were my client, but everything with Opal went better than expected, so now I can call you out for being a complete prick whenever I please.”

“So you still expect to see me outside of the allotted appointments for my daughter?” Ronan snarks, snide and excited.

Adam just gives him a one armed shrug before leaning close to Ronan’s ear— hot breath skirting against his skin. “You aren’t slick, but my ass appreciates your intense focus.”

At that, Adam swivels around on his heals to grab a drink and to say hello to Opal, and Ronan knows he’s fucked.

***

Five years later, when they’ve got matching bands of gold and Adam’s slumped on the sofa with Ronan’s head propped on his lap— the pair of them watching over Opal tending to her new baby brother— Ronan thinks to when Gansey warned that he shouldn’t fall in love with Adam.

Ronan laughs and Adam flicks him on the temple for being such a freak.

#PYNCH #ADAM PARRISH #RONAN LYNCH #OPAL #THE RAVEN CYCLE #SPILT INK

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freddiesaysalright · 5 years

Text

Catching Up Part X

A Joe Mazzello x Reader Fic!

Summary: Reader is a writer for an entertainment news network and after Joe comes in to do an interview, they reconnect. Unexpectedly, they’re having a child together.

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I’ve been so busy with requests! But I’m really dedicated to this story and I can’t wait for y’all to see how it ends! We’re getting close now!

Tag List: @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @jennyggggrrr @somethinginthewayiam, @grandaddy-roger-trash, @rogerloveshiscar, @hopefully-aesthetically-pleasing, @danamaleksworld, @mrsmazzello, @reedusteinrambles, @rexorangecouny, @caborhapch, @kurt-nightcrawler, @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls, @queendeakyy, @hotttspace, @anxious-diabetic, @someone-get-a-medic, @psychosupernatural, @lizvxx

Let me know if you’d like to be added! I think this story is going to have two more parts and an epilogue!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII Part VIII Part IX

Part X here we go!!!

Joe got his castmates on skype to tell them the big news. Rami, Gwilym, and Lucy were in Chicago. Allen was in London. Ben was in Los Angeles. But all of them knew that it was the day, and they had already arranged a time for Joe to call when they could all answer. You and Joe were on your laptop at your apartment, grinning like crazy at each other and at your friends. They looked eagerly at the two of you.

“So,” said Rami. “Boy or girl?”

You and Joe looked at each other and then back at them.

“It’s a boy!” you cried in unison.

They all clapped and shouted their congratulations. You held up the latest sonogram and they absolutely fawned over it.

“He’s beautiful!” Lucy cooed.

“What are you gonna call him?” asked Ben.

“I thought I told you,” said Joe. “Joseph Francis Mazzello IV.”

“I mean, yeah, but you’re already Joe,” Ben said. “What’s his nickname gonna be?”

“Joey?” Gwilym guessed.

“I call him Joey,” you said, pointing to Joe.

“We could both be Joey,” Joe said.

“That might get confusing,” Allen added.

“Whatever we call him will come naturally, I think,” you said. “He might even tell us what he wants to be called.”

“That’s true,” Joe said.

You chatted with them for a little longer, and they caught you and Joe up on what was going on in their lives. It was nice to hear from them all. The only one you hadn’t met in person was Allen, but he was very nice. When they all had to go, you hung up. You sighed and looked at Joe, happier than you had been in a long time.

“So, what would you say to a round of destressing?” he teased, leaning over to kiss you.

“Is that what we’re calling it now?” you returned, smirking.

“It’s just doctor’s orders,” he said.

“Well, I can’t very well say no to that,” you said, kissing him again.

Giggling, you made your way to the bedroom to celebrate.

The following weeks were mostly focused on the move. You and Joe hired movers since you were well into your second trimester and it wasn’t safe for you to lift anything. It made you feel incredibly useless throughout the process. Joe insisted you were carrying the most precious piece of your home, and therefore had no obligation to move furniture or boxes.

On the official moving day, which ended up being late September, you spent time with Christy while Joe oversaw the moving process. It was nice to get quality time with her and celebrate your friendship together before you both took steps you knew meant less time for each other. Several times throughout the day, you got a little emotional thinking about it. As much as you loved Joe, you were going to miss Christy dearly. You were walking together in Central Park when you had to stop and rest.

“Sorry,” you said as you took a seat on a bench. “I’m feeling a little nauseous.”

“Ice cream didn’t agree with little Joey?” she wondered.

You shook your head. “I dunno. I’m still having a lot of nausea. Not as much as the first trimester, but enough to be annoyed.”

“Is that normal?” she asked.

“I have no idea,” you said with a shrug. “Pregnancy is so fucking weird I figure there’s no ‘normal’ way, y’know?”

“I guess that’s fair,” she chuckled.

“According to Google I shouldn’t worry,” you said. “It’s probably just that my hormones are going crazy right now.”

“It just sucks you can’t take anything,” she said.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I get headaches a lot too, so it’s doubly awful.”

“God, I’m never getting pregnant,” she joked.

“Never say never,” you returned. “Don’t forget we weren’t trying for Joey here.”

She laughed. “I’m gonna be super careful to not get pregnant,” she corrected.

When you were feeling better, you began walking again. You told her about all the things you and Joe had done to prepare the house and what you’d gotten for the nursery. She was honestly thrilled for you and couldn’t wait to see it.

Joe picked you up from the park, looking sweaty and exhausted from a whole day of moving. After saying goodbye to Christy, you slid into the passenger seat, cradling your belly in one hand as you settled in. Joe kissed your cheek.

“You look sexy,” you joked, wiping his hair off his soaked forehead.

He smiled. “The house is almost done. We just need to unpack clothes, but I’ve got stuff for us to wear tonight.”

“Okay, we can take care of that tomorrow,” you said. “I can’t wait to see it.”

It looked much like you had imagined it would over the weeks. You and Joe had picked out everything together, and it really felt like yours. This was the Mazzello home. Joe wrapped an arm around your shoulders as you walked through it together. There were boxes of clothes, and some kitchen things that needed to be put away, but that was all part of moving.

“Welcome home,” Joe said.

You grinned. “It’s perfect.”

That evening, after you and Joe ordered a pizza and had that for dinner, you settled into bed pretty early. For the first night in many, you didn’t make love because he was so tired. You didn’t push because your stomach still felt a little queasy and you didn’t feel super sexy. Just as you leaned back against your pillows and cracked open a book, your phone rang.

“Who’s that?” Joe mumbled beside you, half asleep already.

“It’s Christy,” you said, and picked up. “Hey, sweetie. What’s up?”

“I just got our mail,” she said. “You’ve got a letter from Nick.”

“What?” you gasped. “Can you bring it over? We’re already in bed.”

She scoffed. “Really? You leave our apartment for one day and you’re already a grandmother?”

“We’re lame and tired,” you returned, trying to joke but worry was too strong in your heart. “Can you just bring it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, and hung up. You knew she was already on the way.

“What’s up?” Joe asked.

“Nothing, baby,” you assured him, kissing his cheek. “Go to sleep. I just left a few things at the apartment.”

He muttered something else, but you didn’t really take it in. You got up, put on sweatpants and went downstairs to wait for Christy. The fifteen minute trip felt like hours when she was bringing you word from Nick. You hoped this meant he was ready to take a plea bargain and you wouldn’t have to go to court again.

When she arrived, you opened the door before she could knock. She had the letter and a few other things for you, but you just tossed them on the counter as you turned the kitchen light on. You eagerly ripped the letter open and pulled it out, your eyes frantically scanning the page. Your mouth fell open at what you read.

“What?” Christy asked. “What did he say?”

“What did who say?” Joe added as he came into the room. “What’s going on?”

“Nick wrote me from jail,” you told him.

“Why’d you say it was nothing?” he demanded.

“I wanted you to rest!” you insisted. “Why are you up?”

“I don’t sleep well without you next to me,” he said.

You didn’t have time to admire that sentiment. Christy let out a frustrated groan.

“You two are adorable, but we don’t have time for this!” she cried. “Y/N, what did Nick say?”

They both had curious eyes on you as you read the words on the page once more, cementing their reality in your head.

“He wants to see me,” you told them. “He says he’ll take the plea bargain but only if I come and talk to him. But he doesn’t say what it’s about.”

“This feels slimy,” Christy said. “Like a trap.”

“He can’t hurt me,” you said. “It’s all supervised.”

“Y/N, are seriously considering going?” Joe questioned.

“Of course,” you said. “If I can end this sooner, I want to take the opportunity.”

“But if you can get him in court -” Christy began but you cut her off.

“We don’t know that for sure,” you said. “And the court date sucks because Joe’s gonna be in London for the BoRhap premiere and you’re going to be in Florida with your boyfriend. I’d have to go alone.”

“What if he’s lying?” Joe asked. “I’m with Christy, I think he just wants to try and intimidate you again.”

“Well, so what if it is?” you said. “Then we’ll go about it the original plan. I don’t see what harm it can do.”

“It could cause you more stress, and the doctor said to do things that do the opposite of that,” he reminded you.

“It could also relieve the stress,” you argued. “Because then I won’t be so scared about going alone to court.”

“Why do you want to go so bad?” he questioned.

“All the reasons I’ve just said!” you returned. “Aren’t you listening to me?”

“I just don’t understand why you’re giving him the satisfaction,” he said, heaving a sigh. “This puts all the power in his hands.”

“It’s not about having power, it’s about finishing this,” you said. “I want to move on from him, and the sooner the better. A whole month before the court date.”

“Y/N, you can’t do this,” he said. “I’m gonna have to put my foot down.”

Your mouth fell open and you blinked at him for several moments. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Oh my God, run, Joe,” Christy muttered to him.

“I said I’m putting my foot down,” he repeated. “No.”

“You know if you’re gonna keep speaking to me like that, you might as well get me a chew toy,” you spat.

“I didn’t mean -”

You cut across him. “Oh, didn’t you? Because that’s how you talk to dogs and badly behaved children, but definitely not your girlfriend who is five months pregnant with your child.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking down.

“Apology accepted,” you said. “I love you and value your opinion, Joe, and you don’t always have to agree with me. But you will treat me with some goddamn respect.”

“Jesus, Y/N, use a dick,” Christy breathed.

“You’re right,” he conceded, ignoring your friend. “Again, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I just worry about you. That’s all.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you said with a sigh. “I’m going to see Nick. And you can come with me or not, but I’m going.”

“I’ll come with you,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I think it’s right, but I don’t want you to go alone.”

When you had everything arranged to go and see Nick, you found yourself more nervous than you thought you’d be. You tried to think of what you could say to him, but Joe and Christy advised waiting until hearing what he had to say before forming any ideas. Not having anything prepared though made you feel anxious.

The jail he was being held in also made you nervous. The officers there were stern and intimidating, but you figured they had to be with the job they had. You would see Nick in a common area that reminded you of a school cafeteria, but a lot scarier. Nick looked rather pathetic is in uniform, and he’d clearly not gotten any drugs either. His recent bout with withdrawal was written all over his face.

Joe held your hand tightly as you took a deep breath. Nick would also now know that you were pregnant. You’d been careful during the first court date to wear loose clothes and hide your bump. It helped that he hadn’t looked very hard at you. You saw his eyes go wide when he noticed it now. You placed your hand on your bump as you took a seat across from him. Joe remained standing, keeping a hand on your shoulder as he glowered at Nick.

“So,” you said. “What do you want to say?”

“First of all, I want to say I’m sorry, Y/N,” he began. “I’m really sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you.”

“Okay,” you said, your voice stony. “You tried to say that before you broke my phone and wrecked my apartment. You’re gonna have to do better, Nick.”

“I don’t know what came over me there,” he said.

“I do,” you remarked.

“Please, let me finish,” he said, and you got quiet. “I don’t know what came over me. I truly didn’t go there with the intention of hurting you or begging for you back. I went there to ask you for money, and I lied to try and get it from you, I know. I don’t know why you having a boyfriend upset me so much.”

“Did you think there was still hope for us?” you asked.

He looked down at his hands. “Maybe a little. I always thought if I got clean...you might...”

“Forgive you for selling naked photos of me?” you wondered in disbelief. “How could I ever get past that?”

“You’re right, it was stupid,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t help but hold out hope, y’know?”

“This is getting off track,” you said. “Is there anything else you wanted?”

“I just want to know that you forgive me,” he told you. “It’s the only way I’ll be able to face a year in prison.”

You completely hardened as you glared at him. “You wanna know what I faced because of what you did? I was a prisoner in my own head, fearing every fucking camera I came into contact with. I was afraid for my job, for my reputation. I lost friends and family. It affected my relationship with Joe. And then you sent them to him and his friends and God knows who else! I had to start over all the progress I’d made on moving past it! And you want my forgiveness so that you can go to prison and feel okay?”

He sputtered for words.

“I forgive you, Nick,” you said, and he looked at you, wide-eyed. “But not for your sake. I’m forgiving you so I can move on with my own life and focus on this.” You placed your hand on your belly again. “He’s my life now. I’m looking forward, because I can’t look at you anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes and your head started to pound. You winced with pain and Joe knelt closer to you.

“You okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “I think so. I’m ready to go now.”

You both looked at Nick and then you spoke again. “Is there anything else? Are you ready to take the plea deal?”

“Yeah,” he said simply. “Just one more thing.”

You looked expectantly at him. He nodded toward your baby bump.

“If I had never gotten into the drugs, do you think that could have been us?”

“No,” you said simply. “It was always going to be me and Joe.”

He nodded, resigned, and you told the guard you were ready. You could feel Nick’s eyes on you as you left, willing you to turn around for one last meaningful look, but you didn’t give it to him. You were ending this on your terms. And that meant turning your back to him forever and pressing on with Joe and your son.

When you exited the prison, you felt so free. Joe looked hard at you. You’d gotten a little emotional inside, but that was gone now. Relief washed over you like a wave.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” you said, taking his hand as you made your back to your car. You stopped him before you got in, turning him to face you.

“I meant what I said in there,” you said. “It’s me and you now, okay? And little Joey. I’m not worried about anyone from the past. Not when I’ve got you two.”

He kissed you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as his lips claimed yours. This kiss sealed it.

“No more looking back,” he agreed. “I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about this.”

“I love you too,” you said. “And don’t worry about it. I understand why, and it makes me love you even more. You still supported me through it. Thank you, Joe.”

“You feel good about everything?” he asked.

“I do,” you assured him. “It feels like closure.”

He pulled you into a hug. “Good.”

You broke away and you both climbed into the car.

“You know what this means?” you said eagerly as he started to drive back to the house.

“No, what?” he wondered.

“We can just be excited about the premiere of Bohemian Rhapsody!” you squealed. “Yay!”

He laughed. “And then Joey’s gonna get here!”

“I know!” you cried. “We’ve got so much to look forward to!”

#joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x you #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap boys #borhap imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #queen #queen imagine #John Deacon #John deacon imagine #john deacon x reader #john deacon x you #catching up series

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amehanaaa · 5 years

Text

How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days

Second to last chapter, woot woot! June seriously went by too fast. Nobody can stop her.

I honestly would like to do Nalu Week next week, but honestly, I have no inspiration to do anything right now... soo, I’ll update y’all on what’s going on lol.

Anyway, I hope you all have been having a grand time reading this story! See you next time with the final chapter! (Also can be read here.)

Chapter 8 – Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 Words: 4630 Summary: Lucy and Natsu are determined to take the necessary steps to fulfill their lifetime dreams. Little do they know, they have both given themselves 10 days to achieve it.

It’s an out-of-body experience for Lucy to say goodbye to Natsu’s family the next morning. She makes sure that she doesn’t say see you later or make any future plans with them. As Grandeeny gives her one last hug, Lucy tries her best to hang onto the feeling of her gentle warmth.

As they settle onto the bike, she finds the family waving from the front door.

“Thank you for everything!” she calls out.

Natsu pretends to grab all the kisses that Wendy blows to him. “See you guys soon!”

Lucy physically has to tear her eyes away from the house as they drive away. A pit in her stomach is beginning to develop again.

Today is their ninth day together.

Again, she is thankful for the deafening wind as they return to central Magnolia. She desperately wants everything about the experiment to just go into the trash; she wants to pretend like it wasn’t happening in the first place.

And yet, there is still a sentiment inside of her that won’t allow her to come clean.

Soon enough, the streets become narrower and Lucy starts to recognize street names again. The skyscrapers come into view—they’ve officially returned to the city and the reality of their lives.

“Want to get breakfast?” Natsu suggests as they stop at an intersection.

“I should probably get back,” she admits. She senses his shoulders slump, but she ignores it.

“Well, I know of another good place we can go to next time,” he responds.

Lucy swallows thickly, a knot forming in her throat. In reality, next time doesn’t seem too promising after tomorrow. She feels as though the knot is going to leap out of her mouth as he brings her to her apartment complex.

“I’d say our quality time was definitely a success,” Natsu says.

Once he parks, Lucy hops off the bike and hurriedly makes her way up the front steps.

“Hey, wait up,” he tells her as he shifts the gears into park.

Lucy stops after the first set of stairs. She turns around to see him following after her. He stands at a few stairs below her, which makes their heights match.

“I have to go to the station for a bit.” Natsu takes her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “But you should come to my place tonight.”

“Okay,” she nods, not wanting to talk about tomorrow just yet.

“And tomorrow,” he adds. “Fairy Tail is going to have live music and free food. We should go.”

Lucy has to hold back her wince, but she also notices there’s an unfamiliar tone in his voice. For the first time ever, it sounds like he is nervous.

“Okay, let’s go together,” she responds.

Natsu notices a shadow of sadness in her voice. He braces himself for what he has prepared to say next. He squeezes her hands in his.

“I want you to come with me as my girlfriend.”

An unexpected smile forms onto Lucy’s lips. “Are you calling me your girlfriend?”

Natsu can’t help but smile back. “Yeah, I want you to be my girlfriend.”

“Tomorrow will be the tenth day that we have been seeing each other, right?” she mentions.

There’s a pang in both of their chests at her words. Neither of them can figure out why there are obvious swirls of emotions in each other’s eyes.

“Maybe after tomorrow, we’ll know,” Lucy eventually states. “I have to run some errands today, but I’ll try to stop by your place.”

Before Natsu can get out any words, she gives him a kiss on the cheek. With that, she spins around and hastily enters the building.

Natsu watches her for a few moments, but doesn’t hesitate to take out his phone. He texts Gray that he needs to talk to him as soon as possible.

Not allowing herself to look back, Lucy’s palms immediately begin to sweat as she enters the elevator. She can’t stop herself from impatiently tapping her foot.

While rushing into her apartment, she releases a loud sigh. She presses her back against the door and shuts her eyes. Perhaps if she does this long enough, the heaviness in her chest would lessen. When she opens her eyes again, she is met with a curious-eyed Levy standing right in front of her.

“Levy, don’t scare me like that!” Lucy proclaims, placing a hand over her heart. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Enough to hear all your weird mumblings,” Levy replies with now gleaming eyes. “How did these past two days go?”

“Terrible,” Lucy responds with another sigh. She pushes herself off the door and slumps onto the couch. “It was terribly perfect.”

“Tell me everything!” Levy exclaims, jumping onto the couch with her.

Lucy runs a hand through her hair. She bites her lip as she processes her thoughts—the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes going to Natsu’s home really was perfect. There isn’t anything that went wrong these past two days.

“I’m going to try and repeal my article,” Lucy blurts out.

Levy gapes at her, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. “Are you sure your boss will let you?”

“I’m going to try,” Lucy says firmly. “I can’t do this article anymore. It’s going to drive me crazy.”

Levy stares at her friend. She can’t stop herself from asking the obvious. “Do you think you’ve fallen for Natsu?” she asks quietly.

Lucy freezes, not being able to look up at Levy. Instead, all she can muster up is a slow nod. Another lump forms in her throat. The weight of the assignment used to settle in her stomach, then her chest, and now it’s in her throat.

“We’re going to get through this, Lu,” Levy assures her gently.

“H-How?” Lucy questions with a trembling voice. “If Natsu finds out about the article, he won’t want to see me again.”

Levy stays silent at her words. Whether they want to admit it or not, it’s a guarantee that it won’t settle well with Natsu. And as strange as it sounds to say, they don’t know him well enough to predict how he will react.

“My shift starts soon,” Levy eventually speaks again. She stands up from the couch. “What are you going to do now?”

“Natsu wants me to go to his apartment later,” Lucy responds, running her hand through her hair again. “Should I go?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Levy raises a brow. “Spend the time you have left together.”

Now that Lucy can see the ticking clock of their relationship, she realizes how important it is to cherish these final hours with him. She wants to make sure this final night together is worth it.

Once Levy leaves for work, Lucy absentmindedly sits on the couch for several moments. To kill some time, she opens her laptop and stares at her nine days’ worth of notes. She skims through them, hardly believing that she acted this way.

“Why did he stick with me for so long?” Lucy mumbles to herself.

It isn’t until she reads her last few notes when she notices Igneel’s words. She scrolls up to Laxus and what he said. Then, she ends with Makarov revealing that Natsu was invested into the relationship by bringing her to Fairy Tail.

Suddenly, it clicks—the reason why Natsu is so patient with her is that he is committed to her. After suppressing the idea for so long, it slaps Lucy in the face.

Now that her feelings have been added into the mix, she can’t figure out who is going to get hurt the most after all of this.

But she knows the power of a draft. With newfound determination, Lucy types out several scenarios of how tomorrow can go. She isn’t expecting to have at least twenty different scenarios, but it seems like there’s a pattern after each one she writes.

“Maybe this will work,” Lucy mumbles to herself.

She jolts in her spot when she receives a text from Natsu, much earlier than she would have liked to. A sense of panic slowly builds up inside of her every minute. Although she wants to run over to his apartment, she wants to disappear at the same time.

“I’ll bring dinner for us,” she texts him back.

With her plans for tomorrow imprinted in her mind, she gets ready to leave. She stops at a nearby convenience store, purchasing a few instant yakisoba bowls that Natsu snacked on last night. Because she was listening so intently to Grandeeny and Igneel, she didn’t get the chance to try them. She can definitely say it smelled delicious and hot. Just in case, she buys the non-spicy yakisoba for herself.

Lucy knocks on Natsu’s door as she arrives. Her eyes widen when Gray opens the door instead.

“Hi,” he says stiffly, stepping out of the way so she can come inside.

“Hey, Gray,” Lucy replies with a smile.

For some reason, she doesn’t feel as intimidated by him this time. By the expression on his face, he appears to be processing something else. However, what concerns Lucy most is Natsu’s expression.

“Is everything okay?” she asks curiously.

“We were just talking about some stuff.” He pauses, noticing how vague his words sound. “Gray took care of the cat while I was gone, so he was telling me about it.”

Although he sends her a gentle smile, there’s a glimpse of a frown on his lips.

“I’m going to head out now,” Gray states while putting on his shoes.

“You can stay,” Lucy assures him. “I brought over some instant yakisoba.”

“The same yakisoba I ate last night?” Natsu perks up. As Lucy takes out a bowl from the plastic bag, he cracks a grin.

“Sorry, Ice Princess, you can’t stay,” Natsu jumps up from the couch. “Those are just for me and her.”

“Ice Princess?” Lucy laughs out while watching him shove Gray out of the apartment. Once Gray is outside enough to be pushed out by closing the door, Natsu immediately reaches for one of the bowls.

“These are my favorite, Luce. Thanks for buying them.” He smoothly peels the sealed top and fills the bowl with water.

“Do you like them that much?” she asks with amusement as he eagerly pushes the microwave buttons.

“Imagine 16 year old me eating these every time I came back from school,” he responds. “Now imagine that in college, too.”

“College?” she repeats in disbelief. “What makes them so special?”

“They’re probably the spiciest noodles you can buy for a reasonable price,” he explains simply. “Igneel is the only other person I know that can finish a bowl.”

Lucy purses her lips skeptically. She can handle spicy food every once in a while, so she wonders if the yakisoba won’t be as aggressive as the label suggests. She takes a step closer to Natsu when he takes the bowl out of the microwave.

“Do you think you can handle it?” he smirks.

“Let me try,” she replies. Grabbing her pair of chopsticks, she picks up a few strands of noodles.

Her breath is immediately caught in her throat the second they land on her tongue. She coughs loudly, patting her chest at the sudden burn.

“I’ve never seen someone react like that!” Natsu howls out, placing a hand on the counter to hold himself up. “That was hilarious!”

“These are unnecessarily hot!” Lucy proclaims as she quickly swallows them. Her tongue is numb as she hastily pours a cup of milk. Even though they were only a few noodles, she feels as though she can breathe out fire from all the heat.

“They’re not meant for the average,” he remarks. Without a second thought, he slurps on an endless stream of noodles.

“Never again,” she shakes her head. “I’m going to stick with teriyaki.”

It isn’t long until the couple are sitting at the dining table, enjoying their savory bowls. Natsu is in the midst of his second bowl when their cat joins them at the table.

“Have you given him a name yet?” Lucy asks.

“I haven’t,” he realizes aloud. “I’ve never had a pet before. What are some common names?”

“People like to name their pets after emotions,” she replies with a shrug

“How about Sleepy?” he suggests. “He likes to sleep a lot.”

“He doesn’t look like a Sleepy!” she protests, causing Natsu to frown. “Think deeper.”

Natsu gives out a thoughtful hum. His eyes light up when he has a suggestion. “How does Happy sound?”

“That sounds perfect,” Lucy grins. “He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

“I underestimated the power of a cat,” he admits. “When I go to sleep, he always likes to lie next to me.”

“Aw,” she giggles while reaching over to pet Happy behind the ears.

Tummies full, they comfortably sit back on the couch and flip through some TV channels. Although they have done this plenty of times, Lucy can’t help but feel bittersweet about it. Her chest aches knowing that this will be the last time they spend time together like this.

She glances at him, not being able to hold back her laugh. He lifts a curious brow.

“The yakisoba stained your lips,” she points out. “They’re bright red.”

“That’s when you know the noodles worked.” He smirks at her as he edges forward. “Maybe it’ll be like lipstick if I kiss you.”

“No way!” she exclaims.

She puts her hands out in front of her to prevent him from getting closer, but Natsu hovers over her enough to grasp her arms and hold them down. He leans down and goes for her neck, leaving a light trail of kisses.

Lucy doesn’t bother to resist—even if his lips leave a mark, they’re too addicting to fight back. She can feel the quick pulse in her neck match the pace of his kisses. If her arms weren’t pinned down, she would keep him there forever.

His hold becomes looser as he travels up her neck and to her lips. She slides out of his grip to bring her hands into his hair and gently twirl her fingers through his curls.

There is still a sense of heat on his lips; it’s just enough for her to taste it all. Despite this, their kisses feel fresher than ever. It’s as though their lips have familiarized enough to where they’re reminded of how sweet it is when together.

As their bodies feel to be sinking further into the couch, neither of them take it a step further. Lucy can’t bring herself to start a moment that will cause more long-term damage than temporary satisfaction.

Natsu, on the other hand, hums against her lips before slowly pulling away. She leans back to connect eyes with him. In that moment, as they gaze at each other with hooded eyelids, she is ready to tell him everything.

His breaths say that he wouldn’t get angry, his eyes say that he would understand, his lips say that everything will be okay.

“I have to ask you something.”

“What is it?” Lucy asks carefully.

They begin to shift on the couch, picking themselves up and sitting to face each other. As she takes in Natsu’s serious expression, she wonders if this was what Gray and him were talking about earlier before she interrupted. It couldn’t just be about Gray checking up on Happy, it must have been deeper than that.

“Would you ever move away from Magnolia?” Natsu asks abruptly.

Lucy pauses. “I might if I had a reason to.”

“What if I was your reason?”

She lets out a laugh to mask her surprise. “Why would you be leaving Magnolia?”

His expression doesn’t change. “I’m serious. What if we moved away from Magnolia together?”

The levelness of his voice is slightly intimidating, but she tries to ignore it. “Well, right now I don’t have a reason to,” she answers hesitantly. “But I’ll think about it if the time comes.”

“Okay, think about it,” he responds with a nod. “Just in case.”

“Okay.” She gives him a subtle smile, hoping that it hides the fact that stress is currently building up inside of her.

“I just really needed to get that off my chest,” he admits with a heavy sigh. “Thanks, Luce.”

“Y-You’re welcome,” she slightly stutters. “Any time.”

Now if only she could stay those words to herself. She doesn’t want Natsu to get his hopes up for her and their future together. She knows that he wouldn’t if she just came clean already, but she can’t form the words in her mouth.

“It doesn’t look like the yakisoba stained your lips,” he remarks.

“Maybe we should try again,” she suggests.

They don’t hesitate to lean forward and kiss again. In each other’s arms like this, neither of them would want to be anywhere else.

Meanwhile, Lucy ignores the fact that it’s already past midnight and her final hours with Natsu are dwindling by the second. This is the only temporary satisfaction she is willing to accept.

——————–

As soon as Lucy wakes up the next morning, her body is on autopilot mode. She moves automatically, as though she has rehearsed every step she is going to make today.

The tenth day is finally here.

Whatever happens today, she is ready for it. But knowing that tonight has the potential of becoming a disaster, Lucy can hardly focus on her surroundings. She has to keep a continuous thought stream of self-encouragements or she is going fall apart.

However, the moment she enters her work building, she remembers her mission. Even though she doesn’t have a scheduled appointment, she walks straight into Erza’s office with a chin held high.

“Good morning, Lucy. How is everything?” Erza asks.

“I can’t do this article anymore,” Lucy states firmly.

Erza looks up from her desk, holding a poker face. “What did you say?”

There’s a brief moment of silence as Lucy tries to recollect her thoughts.

“The guy I met, I’ve gotten to know him really well, and—”

“Lucy,” Erza interrupts her sternly. “You are writing the article and that’s final. Your story is already going to be on the cover of the magazine.”

Lucy can’t even imagine how happy those words would have made her if she heard them a week ago. Now, they mean nothing to her.

“Erza, I can’t—”

“But you will. Because you’re a professional journalist, remember?”

Lucy swallows in defeat. All of the scenarios she practiced turned into a two minute, one-sided conversation.

“Yes… I guess I am a professional.”

“I expect the final draft tomorrow morning,” Erza instructs her.

Due to an incoming office call, Lucy has no choice but to leave. Although she doesn’t need to be at work today, she finds herself sinking into her desk chair.

“You don’t look so hot,” Cana says at the neighboring desk, examining her for a moment. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“A disaster,” Lucy mutters. She rubs her eyes, secretly wishing that when she opened them everything would be okay. “I’m going to come clean to Natsu about the article tonight.”

“What?” Cana blurts out incredulously. “Why would you do that?”

“This isn’t fair for him,” Lucy sighs out. “He deserves to know what I did before the article gets published.”

“There’s a chance he may not even read the article,” Cana tries to convince her. “Lucy, I think you’re making a mistake.”

Cana’s words are enough for Lucy to feel sick. Right now, Cana is no different from Erza. Not being able to take it anymore, she stands up from her seat.

“I’ll let you know how it goes,” Lucy tells her shortly before walking away.

She has only taken a step outside when she calls Levy. Impatience bubbles up inside of her after she is sent to voicemail. There is no way that she can be by herself right now, so she doesn’t hesitate to head towards the bakery.

“Levy!” Lucy nearly shouts as she enters the bakery.

Normally, Levy is standing at the front counter with a friendly smile. Today, however, there is no one at the counter.

“Levy?” Lucy asks, softer this time. “Is anyone here?”

She can’t fight her curiosity, allowing it to guide her footsteps. She slowly pushes the door to the back of the bakery while peeking her head in.

Lucy gasps as she catches Levy pressed against a wall, lips smashing against Gajeel’s. Lucy’s noise causes them to promptly jerk away from each other and look at her with wild eyes.

“L-Lu!” Levy squeaks, wiping a hand over her mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Only employees are allowed in the back,” Gajeel says roughly. Although his voice is harsh, he appears just as flustered as Levy.

“There was no one here when I came,” Lucy counters.

“I was showing her the supplies we’re running out of,” Gajeel explains simply.

“Right,” Lucy replies with an exaggerated nod. “Well, I guess you showed her plenty.”

“Lucy!” Levy proclaims in disbelief. “Just go to the front. I’ll be out in a second.”

Lucy decides to follow her friend’s instruction, returning to the front of the bakery. She stands at the counter and waits for Levy to return. When she does, her darkened cheeks and swollen lips are obvious.

“Is it bad?” Levy whispers, viewing her reflection from the windows and fixing her hair.

“Your hair or making out with your boss while you’re working?” Lucy clarifies.

“Hey!” Levy gapes at her. “What’s up with you? You’re normally not that blunt.”

Lucy sighs while fixing her hair as well. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m not feeling too good right now.”

“Have you decided what you’re going to tell Natsu?” Levy asks.

“I’m going to tell him everything,” Lucy reveals with an uneven voice.

Levy gives her friend a sympathetic smile. “It’s going to be hard, but you can do it. I support you, alright?”

There’s a subtle sense of relief inside Lucy, which is enough for now. “Thanks. I tried talking to Erza about the article, but she’s forcing me to publish it.”

“She said you would be recognized for it, right?” Levy questions.

“The article is going to be on the front cover,” Lucy replies, although her voice clearly shows it doesn’t have the same value anymore.

“I’ll be here for you,” Levy assures her gently.

“Me too.” Gajeel joins Levy at the counter. “Who do I need to beat up for you, Lucy?”

Lucy’s phone buzzes with a text from Natsu. She opens it to a picture of the suit he’ll be wearing tonight. With another heavy sigh, she puts her phone back into her pocket.

“It’s me, Gajeel,” Lucy mutters while turning to leave the bakery. “You’re going to have to beat me up.”

Hearing Levy speak out multiple encouragements for tonight, Lucy goes back to her apartment to get dressed for tonight. She isn’t sure how to prepare for a disaster that is predicted to be an entire catastrophe, but the only way to find out is by just going for it.

After getting dressed, there is nothing Lucy has dread more than going to Natsu’s apartment. Her heart skips a beat each time she tries to think of the apologies she wants to tell him. To avoid a heart attack, she decides she is going to wing it.

At the same time, everything hurts.

From the shoes she puts on, because of how her heart will be after all of this, and arriving to Natsu’s apartment building—everything just hurts.

Lucy grips onto the illegally copied key to his apartment as she stands in front of the door. The key is the last item she has of him. Once she gives it back, she truly has no reason to see him again.

Lucy takes several deep breaths to brace herself. There’s no way she will ever feel ready, so she forces herself to insert the key and unlock the door. She quietly opens it, hearing Gray’s voice inside.

“But you did it! I’m so proud of you for finishing the bet. I’ve already shared your name with some of my coworkers.”

Lucy’s body is frozen at his words. Instantly, everything starts connecting in her mind. Natsu wasn’t committed to the relationship—he was committed to a bet.

Outraged is an understatement. Lucy is furious. She clenches her jaw, debating whether it’d be a smart decision to barge inside and demand for answers. But the aching in her chest is too much to ignore. Dropping the key on the floor, she slams the door.

Natsu and Gray jump at the sudden noise. They look at one another as they realize what just happened.

“Natsu, I’m so sorry—”

Natsu doesn’t bother to let Gray finish as he immediately darts out of his apartment. He finds Lucy storming away and pressing the button to the elevator.

“Lucy, hold on,” he tells her.

She whips around, not missing a beat. “You used me so you could get your name spread?”

“You drove me insane for your magazine?” Natsu shoots back.

They stand there for a few moments, both fuming. As they try to recollect their thoughts, they recognize how much they’ve equally blighted each other.

“Gray told you,” Lucy says plainly.

“Yeah, and how I was just some ten-day experiment.”

“And I’m just some girl you picked at random?”

“That doesn’t even compare,” Natsu argues sharply. “I was someone you tested your theories on. Was that why you agreed to meet my grandparents? Was this all just some fantasy story for you?”

Lucy blankly stares at him, knowing that he is aware of how much pain those words could inflict. And how they did.

“Well,” she begins, pressing the elevator button again. “Some kind of friend you have who knew both of our intentions.”

“What are you talking about?” he demands.

“Gray knew everything since the second day. Ask him about it, if it even matters to you.”

The elevator slides open. Lucy steps inside and presses her back against the wall. As they connect eyes, her heart splits into two uneven pieces. She could have never prepared to see the hurt expression on his face.

“Congrats,” Natsu begins while the elevator closes. “Now you know how to lose a guy in ten days.”

Natsu stares at the closed doors, tearing his eyes away before he sees his reflection. He wipes his damp hands across his pants as he returns to his apartment. There, he finds Gray pacing across the living room. Gray turns to him with frantic eyes.

“You knew,” Natsu accuses him before he can say anything. “How long did you know Lucy was using me?”

“I was going to tell you—”

“Did you just want to see me suffer? Did you enjoy seeing me get taken advantage of?”

“That wasn’t my intention, let me—”

“Just go.” Natsu tells him firmly while rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. “I can’t talk to you right now. Give me space.”

Natsu doesn’t watch Gray leave the apartment. Instead, he focuses on holding Happy in his lap as they fall onto the couch.

Natsu’s thoughts are an endless carousel as he connects the pieces to why Lucy was so exhausting throughout their time together. Although that doesn’t explain to him her abrupt shift at his grandparents’ house, he can’t believe that both of them sabotaged each other enough to cause all of this pain towards each other.

“Were you a part of the plan, too?” Natsu mumbles.

Happy meows in response, which brings him to give out a heavy sigh. Everything happened so fast, his body is just now catching up.

And everything just hurts.

#fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #nalu #nalu fanfiction #my writing #wow #time flies #too fast!!!!!#thanks for reading

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draculalive · 5 years

Text

Dr. Seward's Diary.

29 September, morning... Last night, at a little before ten o'clock, Arthur and Quincey came into Van Helsing's room; he told us all that he wanted us to do, but especially addressing himself to Arthur, as if all our wills were centred in his. He began by saying that he hoped we would all come with him too, "for," he said, "there is a grave duty to be done there. You were doubtless surprised at my letter?" This query was directly addressed to Lord Godalming.

"I was. It rather upset me for a bit. There has been so much trouble around my house of late that I could do without any more. I have been curious, too, as to what you mean. Quincey and I talked it over; but the more we talked, the more puzzled we got, till now I can say for myself that I'm about up a tree as to any meaning about anything."

"Me too," said Quincey Morris laconically.

"Oh," said the Professor, "then you are nearer the beginning, both of you, than friend John here, who has to go a long way back before he can even get so far as to begin."

It was evident that he recognised my return to my old doubting frame of mind without my saying a word. Then, turning to the other two, he said with intense gravity:---

"I want your permission to do what I think good this night. It is, I know, much to ask; and when you know what it is I propose to do you will know, and only then, how much. Therefore may I ask that you promise me in the dark, so that afterwards, though you may be angry with me for a time -- I must not disguise from myself the possibility that such may be -- you shall not blame yourselves for anything."

"That's frank anyhow," broke in Quincey. "I'll answer for the Professor. I don't quite see his drift, but I swear he's honest; and that's good enough for me."

"I thank you, sir," said Van Helsing proudly. "I have done myself the honour of counting you one trusting friend, and such endorsement is dear to me." He held out a hand, which Quincey took.

Then Arthur spoke out:---

"Dr. Van Helsing, I don't quite like to 'buy a pig in a poke,' as they say in Scotland, and if it be anything in which my honour as a gentleman or my faith as a Christian is concerned, I cannot make such a promise. If you can assure me that what you intend does not violate either of these two, then I give my consent at once; though for the life of me, I cannot understand what you are driving at."

"I accept your limitation," said Van Helsing, "and all I ask of you is that if you feel it necessary to condemn any act of mine, you will first consider it well and be satisfied that it does not violate your reservations."

"Agreed!" said Arthur; "that is only fair. And now that the pourparlers are over, may I ask what it is we are to do?"

"I want you to come with me, and to come in secret, to the churchyard at Kingstead."

Arthur's face fell as he said in an amazed sort of way:---

"Where poor Lucy is buried?" The Professor bowed. Arthur went on: "And when there?"

"To enter the tomb!" Arthur stood up.

"Professor, are you in earnest; or it is some monstrous joke? Pardon me, I see that you are in earnest." He sat down again, but I could see that he sat firmly and proudly, as one who is on his dignity. There was silence until he asked again:---

"And when in the tomb?"

"To open the coffin."

"This is too much!" he said, angrily rising again. "I am willing to be patient in all things that are reasonable; but in this -- this desecration of the grave -- of one who -- -- " He fairly choked with indignation. The Professor looked pityingly at him.

"If I could spare you one pang, my poor friend," he said, "God knows I would. But this night our feet must tread in thorny paths; or later, and for ever, the feet you love must walk in paths of flame!"

Arthur looked up with set white face and said:---

"Take care, sir, take care!"

"Would it not be well to hear what I have to say?" said Van Helsing. "And then you will at least know the limit of my purpose. Shall I go on?"

"That's fair enough," broke in Morris.

After a pause Van Helsing went on, evidently with an effort:---

"Miss Lucy is dead; is it not so? Yes! Then there can be no wrong to her. But if she be not dead -- -- "

Arthur jumped to his feet.

"Good God!" he cried. "What do you mean? Has there been any mistake; has she been buried alive?" He groaned in anguish that not even hope could soften.

"I did not say she was alive, my child; I did not think it. I go no further than to say that she might be Un-Dead."

"Un-Dead! Not alive! What do you mean? Is this all a nightmare, or what is it?"

"There are mysteries which men can only guess at, which age by age they may solve only in part. Believe me, we are now on the verge of one. But I have not done. May I cut off the head of dead Miss Lucy?"

"Heavens and earth, no!" cried Arthur in a storm of passion. "Not for the wide world will I consent to any mutilation of her dead body. Dr. Van Helsing, you try me too far. What have I done to you that you should torture me so? What did that poor, sweet girl do that you should want to cast such dishonour on her grave? Are you mad that speak such things, or am I mad to listen to them? Don't dare to think more of such a desecration; I shall not give my consent to anything you do. I have a duty to do in protecting her grave from outrage; and, by God, I shall do it!"

Van Helsing rose up from where he had all the time been seated, and said, gravely and sternly:---

"My Lord Godalming, I, too, have a duty to do, a duty to others, a duty to you, a duty to the dead; and, by God, I shall do it! All I ask you now is that you come with me, that you look and listen; and if when later I make the same request you do not be more eager for its fulfilment even than I am, then -- then I shall do my duty, whatever it may seem to me. And then, to follow of your Lordship's wishes I shall hold myself at your disposal to render an account to you, when and where you will." His voice broke a little, and he went on with a voice full of pity:---

"But, I beseech you, do not go forth in anger with me. In a long life of acts which were often not pleasant to do, and which sometimes did wring my heart, I have never had so heavy a task as now. Believe me that if the time comes for you to change your mind towards me, one look from you will wipe away all this so sad hour, for I would do what a man can to save you from sorrow. Just think. For why should I give myself so much of labour and so much of sorrow? I have come here from my own land to do what I can of good; at the first to please my friend John, and then to help a sweet young lady, whom, too, I came to love. For her -- I am ashamed to say so much, but I say it in kindness -- I gave what you gave; the blood of my veins; I gave it, I, who was not, like you, her lover, but only her physician and her friend. I gave to her my nights and days -- before death, after death; and if my death can do her good even now, when she is the dead Un-Dead, she shall have it freely." He said this with a very grave, sweet pride, and Arthur was much affected by it. He took the old man's hand and said in a broken voice:---

"Oh, it is hard to think of it, and I cannot understand; but at least I shall go with you and wait."

It was just a quarter before twelve o'clock when we got into the churchyard over the low wall. The night was dark with occasional gleams of moonlight between the rents of the heavy clouds that scudded across the sky. We all kept somehow close together, with Van Helsing slightly in front as he led the way. When we had come close to the tomb I looked well at Arthur, for I feared that the proximity to a place laden with so sorrowful a memory would upset him; but he bore himself well. I took it that the very mystery of the proceeding was in some way a counteractant to his grief. The Professor unlocked the door, and seeing a natural hesitation amongst us for various reasons, solved the difficulty by entering first himself. The rest of us followed, and he closed the door. He then lit a dark lantern and pointed to the coffin. Arthur stepped forward hesitatingly; Van Helsing said to me:---

"You were with me here yesterday. Was the body of Miss Lucy in that coffin?"

"It was." The Professor turned to the rest saying:---

"You hear; and yet there is no one who does not believe with me." He took his screwdriver and again took off the lid of the coffin. Arthur looked on, very pale but silent; when the lid was removed he stepped forward. He evidently did not know that there was a leaden coffin, or, at any rate, had not thought of it. When he saw the rent in the lead, the blood rushed to his face for an instant, but as quickly fell away again, so that he remained of a ghastly whiteness; he was still silent. Van Helsing forced back the leaden flange, and we all looked in and recoiled.

The coffin was empty!

For several minutes no one spoke a word. The silence was broken by Quincey Morris:---

"Professor, I answered for you. Your word is all I want. I wouldn't ask such a thing ordinarily -- I wouldn't so dishonour you as to imply a doubt; but this is a mystery that goes beyond any honour or dishonour. Is this your doing?"

"I swear to you by all that I hold sacred that I have not removed nor touched her. What happened was this: Two nights ago my friend Seward and I came here -- with good purpose, believe me. I opened that coffin, which was then sealed up, and we found it, as now, empty. We then waited, and saw something white come through the trees. The next day we came here in day-time, and she lay there. Did she not, friend John?"

"Yes."

"That night we were just in time. One more so small child was missing, and we find it, thank God, unharmed amongst the graves. Yesterday I came here before sundown, for at sundown the Un-Dead can move. I waited here all the night till the sun rose, but I saw nothing. It was most probable that it was because I had laid over the clamps of those doors garlic, which the Un-Dead cannot bear, and other things which they shun. Last night there was no exodus, so to-night before the sundown I took away my garlic and other things. And so it is we find this coffin empty. But bear with me. So far there is much that is strange. Wait you with me outside, unseen and unheard, and things much stranger are yet to be. So" -- here he shut the dark slide of his lantern -- "now to the outside." He opened the door, and we filed out, he coming last and locking the door behind him.

Oh! but it seemed fresh and pure in the night air after the terror of that vault. How sweet it was to see the clouds race by, and the passing gleams of the moonlight between the scudding clouds crossing and passing -- like the gladness and sorrow of a man's life; how sweet it was to breathe the fresh air, that had no taint of death and decay; how humanising to see the red lighting of the sky beyond the hill, and to hear far away the muffled roar that marks the life of a great city. Each in his own way was solemn and overcome. Arthur was silent, and was, I could see, striving to grasp the purpose and the inner meaning of the mystery. I was myself tolerably patient, and half inclined again to throw aside doubt and to accept Van Helsing's conclusions. Quincey Morris was phlegmatic in the way of a man who accepts all things, and accepts them in the spirit of cool bravery, with hazard of all he has to stake. Not being able to smoke, he cut himself a good-sized plug of tobacco and began to chew. As to Van Helsing, he was employed in a definite way. First he took from his bag a mass of what looked like thin, wafer-like biscuit, which was carefully rolled up in a white napkin; next he took out a double-handful of some whitish stuff, like dough or putty. He crumbled the wafer up fine and worked it into the mass between his hands. This he then took, and rolling it into thin strips, began to lay them into the crevices between the door and its setting in the tomb. I was somewhat puzzled at this, and being close, asked him what it was that he was doing. Arthur and Quincey drew near also, as they too were curious. He answered:---

"I am closing the tomb, so that the Un-Dead may not enter."

"And is that stuff you have put there going to do it?" asked Quincey. "Great Scott! Is this a game?"

"It is."

"What is that which you are using?" This time the question was by Arthur. Van Helsing reverently lifted his hat as he answered:---

"The Host. I brought it from Amsterdam. I have an Indulgence." It was an answer that appalled the most sceptical of us, and we felt individually that in the presence of such earnest purpose as the Professor's, a purpose which could thus use the to him most sacred of things, it was impossible to distrust. In respectful silence we took the places assigned to us close round the tomb, but hidden from the sight of any one approaching. I pitied the others, especially Arthur. I had myself been apprenticed by my former visits to this watching horror; and yet I, who had up to an hour ago repudiated the proofs, felt my heart sink within me. Never did tombs look so ghastly white; never did cypress, or yew, or juniper so seem the embodiment of funereal gloom; never did tree or grass wave or rustle so ominously; never did bough creak so mysteriously; and never did the far-away howling of dogs send such a woeful presage through the night.

There was a long spell of silence, a big, aching void, and then from the Professor a keen "S-s-s-s!" He pointed; and far down the avenue of yews we saw a white figure advance -- a dim white figure, which held something dark at its breast. The figure stopped, and at the moment a ray of moonlight fell upon the masses of driving clouds and showed in startling prominence a dark-haired woman, dressed in the cerements of the grave. We could not see the face, for it was bent down over what we saw to be a fair-haired child. There was a pause and a sharp little cry, such as a child gives in sleep, or a dog as it lies before the fire and dreams. We were starting forward, but the Professor's warning hand, seen by us as he stood behind a yew-tree, kept us back; and then as we looked the white figure moved forwards again. It was now near enough for us to see clearly, and the moonlight still held. My own heart grew cold as ice, and I could hear the gasp of Arthur, as we recognised the features of Lucy Westenra. Lucy Westenra, but yet how changed. The sweetness was turned to adamantine, heartless cruelty, and the purity to voluptuous wantonness. Van Helsing stepped out, and, obedient to his gesture, we all advanced too; the four of us ranged in a line before the door of the tomb. Van Helsing raised his lantern and drew the slide; by the concentrated light that fell on Lucy's face we could see that the lips were crimson with fresh blood, and that the stream had trickled over her chin and stained the purity of her lawn death-robe.

We shuddered with horror. I could see by the tremulous light that even Van Helsing's iron nerve had failed. Arthur was next to me, and if I had not seized his arm and held him up, he would have fallen.

When Lucy -- I call the thing that was before us Lucy because it bore her shape -- saw us she drew back with an angry snarl, such as a cat gives when taken unawares; then her eyes ranged over us. Lucy's eyes in form and colour; but Lucy's eyes unclean and full of hell-fire, instead of the pure, gentle orbs we knew. At that moment the remnant of my love passed into hate and loathing; had she then to be killed, I could have done it with savage delight. As she looked, her eyes blazed with unholy light, and the face became wreathed with a voluptuous smile. Oh, God, how it made me shudder to see it! With a careless motion, she flung to the ground, callous as a devil, the child that up to now she had clutched strenuously to her breast, growling over it as a dog growls over a bone. The child gave a sharp cry, and lay there moaning. There was a cold-bloodedness in the act which wrung a groan from Arthur; when she advanced to him with outstretched arms and a wanton smile he fell back and hid his face in his hands.

She still advanced, however, and with a languorous, voluptuous grace, said:---

"Come to me, Arthur. Leave these others and come to me. My arms are hungry for you. Come, and we can rest together. Come, my husband, come!"

There was something diabolically sweet in her tones -- something of the tingling of glass when struck -- which rang through the brains even of us who heard the words addressed to another. As for Arthur, he seemed under a spell; moving his hands from his face, he opened wide his arms. She was leaping for them, when Van Helsing sprang forward and held between them his little golden crucifix. She recoiled from it, and, with a suddenly distorted face, full of rage, dashed past him as if to enter the tomb.

When within a foot or two of the door, however, she stopped, as if arrested by some irresistible force. Then she turned, and her face was shown in the clear burst of moonlight and by the lamp, which had now no quiver from Van Helsing's iron nerves. Never did I see such baffled malice on a face; and never, I trust, shall such ever be seen again by mortal eyes. The beautiful colour became livid, the eyes seemed to throw out sparks of hell-fire, the brows were wrinkled as though the folds of the flesh were the coils of Medusa's snakes, and the lovely, blood-stained mouth grew to an open square, as in the passion masks of the Greeks and Japanese. If ever a face meant death -- if looks could kill -- we saw it at that moment.

And so for full half a minute, which seemed an eternity, she remained between the lifted crucifix and the sacred closing of her means of entry. Van Helsing broke the silence by asking Arthur:---

"Answer me, oh my friend! Am I to proceed in my work?"

Arthur threw himself on his knees, and hid his face in his hands, as he answered:---

"Do as you will, friend; do as you will. There can be no horror like this ever any more;" and he groaned in spirit. Quincey and I simultaneously moved towards him, and took his arms. We could hear the click of the closing lantern as Van Helsing held it down; coming close to the tomb, he began to remove from the chinks some of the sacred emblem which he had placed there. We all looked on in horrified amazement as we saw, when he stood back, the woman, with a corporeal body as real at that moment as our own, pass in through the interstice where scarce a knife-blade could have gone. We all felt a glad sense of relief when we saw the Professor calmly restoring the strings of putty to the edges of the door.

When this was done, he lifted the child and said:

"Come now, my friends; we can do no more till to-morrow. There is a funeral at noon, so here we shall all come before long after that. The friends of the dead will all be gone by two, and when the sexton lock the gate we shall remain. Then there is more to do; but not like this of to-night. As for this little one, he is not much harm, and by to-morrow night he shall be well. We shall leave him where the police will find him, as on the other night; and then to home." Coming close to Arthur, he said:---

"My friend Arthur, you have had a sore trial; but after, when you look back, you will see how it was necessary. You are now in the bitter waters, my child. By this time to-morrow you will, please God, have passed them, and have drunk of the sweet waters; so do not mourn overmuch. Till then I shall not ask you to forgive me."

Arthur and Quincey came home with me, and we tried to cheer each other on the way. We had left the child in safety, and were tired; so we all slept with more or less reality of sleep.

#vampires #dracula #draculalive #vanhelsing

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pemulungaksara · 5 years

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Bedazzled 2

Summary: Regina White, daughter of Snow White enters Narnia to find an apple for her King, trying to win The Four Monarchs favor with her magical ability. Will the Pevensie bedazzled with her ability?

Author Notes: Setting in the golden age, around The Horse and His Boy time.

Read: Chapter 1

Chapter 2

When morning came, the sun ascended from the infinite Great eastern. From Cair Paravel east wing, Regina could see training ground where Peter and Edmund sparred vigorously. The Blond King with his sword and shield matched with the Raven King and his double swords. Little further from them, the centaurs, fauns, dwarfs, followed their king's example. Swords, axes, and iron clubs clashed. They made beautiful yet terrifying harmony.

"So noisy, isn't it Lady Regina?" a small voice chirped.

Regina looked around her and found a black and white magpie on her window sill. She momentary forgot that she was in the land of talking animal. "A good kind of noisy. Good morning to you..."

"It's Rury, Lady. Good morn."

"Good morn, Rury."

"Queen Susan and Queen Lucy waiting for you in the great hall. Please follow me." Rury the magpie fled in her little wings and Regina happily followed.

Rury chirped and fled at the same time, Regina wondered how this little bird managed her breath. Thanks to Rury, Regina knew that Narnia in preparation of battle against the North Giant. The Giant broke the peace agreement and made chaos in the northern border. They cut ancient trees and committed the unforgivable law, ate the talking animals.

"Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, good morning." Regina greeted the queens. Susan, like Regina expected, was beautiful. Dark hair, brilliant blue eyes, paler skin than Lucy but not as pale as Edmund, and her smile so charming. There was a tint of seriousness in her presence, total opposite from Lucy's cheerful aura.

"Good morn, Lady Regina."

"Good morn, Gina. Lucy just fine, we are a team, right?"

Regina sat beside Lucy, "We are a team when we practicing and performing, Lucy. I can't call you informally anytime you like." Regina smiled at Lucy's pursed lips.

In front of Regina, laid a lot of breakfast choice. Salad, fruit, pancake, and toast. She wasn't sure where she must start. So she just followed Lucy's example, start with the fruit first.

"How is your sleep, Lady Regina?"

"Never been better, Queen Susan. It's a nice change than sleeping on the wood floor."

"You slept in the wood?"

Regina had not told Lucy about her travels from Swan Lake into Narnia. Actually, it was not interesting at all. Except you were a fan of walking in the woods, searching for the forgotten magical portal –all portal closed due to the last disaster, but it was a story for another time—. Then she stumbled into Terebinthia, a small island in the southeast of Narnia. The last part of the journey passed on a ship.

"Fortunately, a ship from Lone Island give me a lift." Regina finished her story.

"If we know you are coming, we will pick you up on our journey into Calormen next week."

"Don't you have a war to win, Queen Susan?"

"The one who breaks the treaty is Ettin's Crown Prince since Peter and Edmund already kill their king last year. We know the crown prince is not as strong as his father since half of their army wiped. Peter thinks he can handle him alone."

"Besides, Susan is impatient to meet her sweet Prince Rabadash." Lucy giggled.

"Shut up, Lu." Susan's glare couldn't hide her blushing face.

Regina didn't waste her chance to tease Susan. Maybe Lucy influenced her too much. "Hey, please tell me about this sweet Prince Rabadash."

"Not you too, Regina."

"Are the kings going to join us?" Regina motioned at the empty table's head and a seat beside Susan.

"Yes, they will soon. Better to eat as much as possible, Gina. They will empty all of these plates in no time."

Regina rethought her suggestion once more. She was not sure her participation will be welcomed. But there was nothing good coming from keeping her silence. "Actually, I have a proposal."

The Queens looked at rather her oddly. Regina couldn't step back now, she shot her idea.

*^*^*

Edmund was ready to leap on his feet and yelled some sense to Susan. Yes, just Susan because she was the only one who could change her mind when a logical argument served. Peter seriously considered this dangerous idea and Lucy, oh hell, Lucy already a lost cause. Edmund could see her fascination over magic and the witch, Regina. Even General Oreius held Regina on a certain level of respect.

Edmund shook his irritation, "My dear sister, may you care to explain. Why copying White Witch Magic is a good idea? The Ettins attack us because Jadis abandoned them."

"The giant never invaded before because they were afraid of White Witch. If they know we have another witch like her, they will break down. Or hesitate to launch another attack."

"Besides, Regina can perform unbreakable vow. It will hold them back definitely."

Susan and Lucy already made their mind. There was no way Edmund could break this kind of alliance when he didn't have Peter's voice. He turned into Oreius, "General, did unbreakable vow is a kind of black magic?"

Oreius took a moment before answering, "As long as I know, an unbreakable vow is magic. Magic couldn't be specified into good or evil. Magic is a tool, like a sword, the only one can determine it is their wielder intention, Your Majesty."

Good, the wise centaur certainly not in Edmund's side.

"Well, we can consider—"

"No, definitely not." Edmund cut Peter before he made this suggestion official.

Peter sighed, they wasted two hours in this meeting just to argue about Regina's offer. "But her idea is good. It will save many of our people life, Ed."

"And I feel safer when Peter has more back up," Susan added.

"We can't trust her yet. It's not even been 48 hours since her arrival. What if she betrays you and joins the giant?"

"I will kill her in the first moment she turned her back. I promise." Peter flinched at his own suggestion. Even Susan and Lucy turned a shade paler.

Edmund knew Peter is the noblest person between the four of them. When Edmund heard him said something like that, it made Edmund uncomfortable and guilty. He didn't want his pure brother turned to be a cold-blooded murderer. "I hope I can go with you, Pete."

"We already through this, Ed. Susan needs you. I don't trust Prince Rabadash. You know which one is more important."

Peter, Edmund, and Susan did a three-way staring contest.

Susan was the first one who broke contact. "How about we call her first? Then you can ask any question you want. General, may you call her?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

When Regina entered the war council room, Peter didn't waste another time to start asking. "Please explain how you are going to copy White Witch magic, Lady Regina."

"Potion, Your Majesty." Regina took one of her potion, a white marble glass, so small that Edmund needed to squint his eyes, and dropped it on the floor. In an instant, the floor covered in ice and the room's temperature dropped several degrees. "I can make more potion than you need."

"How—"

"Nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and magic," Regina explained the basic ingredient of her potion. "I can make flood, explosion, healing potion, poison."

Regina could go on and on, about her potion, the variation of it, the combination, the process, but she thought the war council won't be impressed.

"If the magic fails you what is your weapon choice, My Lady?" Orieus asked.

"Magic and brain are my strongest weapon. As long as I live, magic will never fail me, General." Edmund threw a skeptical look on Regina. "If the situations require me to flight, I can always count on my enchanted broomstick and my ninja art."

Before Edmund could make a snide comment, Regina dropped another potion. This one had a black color and released a suffocating black smoke. When the smoke dissipated, a bird fled out to the window and Regina wasn't in her place.

"I am not suicidal. I can assure you at that." Everyone except Oreius jumped on their seat while Regina materialized beside Lucy.

"Is this your first battle?" Edmund asked the oblivious question. It didn't matter how much useful her magic was if she had no experience. The frightful confusion, the noise, the blood –especially the giant's blood smell— could make anyone disoriented and careless.

"Actually, yes, Your Majesty." Regina heard Susan's gasp. "But I often joined spy mission or raiding party. In the fairy tale realm, men won't let women go into battle. It was a disgrace of their ego."

Lucy nearly laughed at Regina’s statement if Susan didn’t shoot her a warning look. She shook her head instead.

"Can I have a minute, Lady White?" Edmund looked over the closed door. He didn't want his family interrupted his interrogation.

"Sure, Your Majesty." Regina followed Edmund outside.

They walked into an empty library. Edmund thought it was far enough from his curious family earshot. "Okay, Lady White. I am not going to beat around the bush. Why did you decide to help us? This was not your kingdom. It was not even your realm. We barely knew each other."

"King Owen already offered alliance for Narnia. Letting High King Peter charging battle without you or your sisters is somehow odd for me. So I offered my help. It's not like you won't do me a favor in the future. For example, the apple tree. I just trying to make the down payment, King Edmund," Regina stated her reason.

Edmund was very good at reading people emotion and intention. One time he discovered a spy from Calormen who pretended to be Lucy's suitor. The poor man and his group didn't even have their dinner when Edmund threw them into the dungeon.

His gut feeling told him there was something unsettling about Regina's green eyes, but she hadn't lied to him about her intention. "My family maybe trust you, Lady White. But I am not."

"You can have my head if I hurt him, Your Majesty," Regina said without hesitation.

"Even over a scratch?"

"Even over an intentional scratch."

"Swear it."

"Over what? Aslan?"

She was a non-believer, Edmund thought Aslan's name didn't matter for her. "Over your King."

"I swear, in the name King Owen of Swan Lake. I won't intentionally cause any harm to High King Peter of Narnia." Regina put her hand over her heart. "Satisfied?"

Edmund didn't miss the tint of annoyance in her voice. "Good."

"Everything settled?" Peter asked when Edmund and Regina come back to the war council room.

"Yes." Edmund noticed that the ice doesn’t melt anytime soon but the temperature less chilled. It would be a mess when the ice started to thin.

"What do you need, Lady Regina?" since the battle plan was finished before they arguing, Susan jumped into accommodation.

"I need a storyteller, Queen Susan."

"Storyteller?" Peter puzzled over this random suggestion. The other bore the same confusion look, except Lucy whose eyes glinted.

"My magic is like a machine. It transforms magical source into another ability. Illusion, healing, transfiguration, potion, everything you want. The magical source may differ according to the magician. It could be moonlight, sunlight, sorrow, happiness, water, air, fire, plants. In my case, my magical source is a story."

"I could be the storyteller!" Lucy announced.

"No!" Her siblings declined at once.

"Come on. Peter and Regina are charging into battle. Susan and Edmund will be cruising into Calormen. All of you leave me alone here," Lucy sulked. "No offense to you, General," Lucy added when Orieus cast an amusing glance. This time, Oreius would be left behind.

Susan sighed. "We are not leaving you, Lu. You are needed here to guard Cair Paravel."

"Oh yeah, fun. I want to go with Peter."

"And leave our people vulnerable? I am sorry, Lucy."

"I can teach you to ride a flying broom, Queen Lucy. You can patrol in a more sophisticated way." Regina offered to cheer Lucy up. "It completely safe if Queen Lucy stay exactly two meters above the ground," Regina added before Susan's voice her concern.

"Back to logistic, you need a storyteller. Can we arrange Runebeard to assist Lady Regina?" Susan asked.

Edmund nodded, Runebeard was a decent storyteller. The dwarf also a very good archer, so no resource wasted.

"I don't need your battle plan, Your Majesty. Just tell me where, when, and what I need to do." Regina could sense Edmund hesitation.

"Position, time line, action, and storyteller. Anything else?"

"You don't suppose to find me white reindeer or polar bear to pull my chariot? Can Runebeard act as my general? And I absolutely need your acting skills, High King."

Upon hearing Regina, Lucy and Susan couldn't suppress their giggle. Everyone knew that Peter was a very bad liar. Acting? This couldn't get any weirder.

"I know there is a trap for me." Peter let out a very depressing sigh.

*^*^*

The ball went well. Everybody got their food, wine, and music. Susan finally let out her worry and over thinking mind as she danced with Peter. Lucy's laughter filled the room as Edmund twirl her. Soon, all the dancing Narnian –faun, dryad, nymph, centaur, small talking beast—followed their monarch lead, dancing their heart out. The musician –dwarf, mouse, bird—played their instrument merrily. The rest –big talking beast—happily pitch in when they knew the lyrics and drank their wine when they don't. It was wonderful.

Before anyone could invite Regina to dance –or sing, God forbid it—, she slipped out of the room. She enjoyed the night wind kissing her cheeks and the sound of joy from afar. It was not like she hates a party, she just didn't want to participate. She felt a party is like a bonfire, you can enjoy it from distance but it would burn you when you get close.

Regina held her drink tighter when she sensed a presence behind her.

"Already running away, My Lady?" a deep voice came before her. A human voice, slightly deeper than the High King's voice.

Regina didn't need to turn away to identify the voice owner. "I just collecting some nerves before my performance, Your Majesty."

Edmund joined Regina at the balcony, sightseeing the half moon. "You don't drink it?" Edmund indicated at her full glass.

"Not a fan of wine." Regina held her glass over the moon, they could see the moon turned pink, "I just take it so no one will offer me any kind of drink."

"What a waste." Edmund snide.

"Then, will you drink it for me?" Regina challenged in a very sweet voice, almost like flirting. If flirting involved a stony face and death glare.

Edmund knew more than anyone in Narnia, don't accept food or drink from a stranger. Moreover a beverage from a witch, it could be poisoned or worse, enchanted. He learned his lesson in a rough way. Still, he was a man, a king, he won't back down to a challenge.

He took a slow dramatical sip while staring back at Regina. The red liquid tasted normal, as good as Narnia's watered wine –yes, it was watered. No one wants to have massive hungover before charging into a battle—. He didn't feel any strong urge to blurted out secret or unreasonable craving over wine. But he made a mental note to drink a gallon of water later, for prevention.

"Why don't you give it a taste?" Edmund offered Regina half of the glass. He knew it was inappropriate, but who cares? No one in sight going to scold him.

Regina copied Edmund and drown the wine. "Uh, not bad." She grimaced in disgust.

"Gina! Here you are!"

Lucy sudden appearance made Edmund aware of his distance. They were not improperly too close but just overstepped a little bit of personal bubble space. Maybe it was the wine, Edmund thought.

Regina breathed in as much as the air she could before Lucy dragged her into the Great Hall.

Lucy and Regina were retelling about The Battle of Beruna. Lucy narrated the story, her voice clear above the sound of faun's flute and dwarf's drum. Regina projected it in her bluish holograph illusion. Excitement and bravery reflected in all of Narnian's face. Edmund literally could see the fire in everyone eyes. The audience amused and inspired, mission accomplished.

*^*^*

The anticipated day finally came. Peter and Narnia's soldier will be marching Northwest, directly into Ettinsmoor. While Regina, Runebeard, and Xati the panther will take the roundabout way through Frozen Lake—which is, thanks to Aslan, not frozen anymore—. They needed to plant Regina's apple tree first. At least, when the battle over, Regina could have an apple tree's sapling.

Susan and Lucy hug their brother and murmured a blessing in his ear.

Susan hugged her, "Lady Regina, please keep him alive."

"You can hit his head if he acts like a fool. You have my permission." It was Lucy's turn.

"Hey!" Peter stated his disagreement while Regina offered a small smile.

"Are you sure you don't want to take the cordial with you?" Lucy asked for the tenth time this morning.

"Thank you for the offer, Queen Lucy. But I think it's better in your hand. The cordial's magic answer to you. Not me. I will send the fastest eagle to fetch it if needed."

"I hope we don't need that."

"I agree. Send me an eagle too if you need reinforcement." Edmund offered.

"Will do, Ed."

"May Aslan between you and your enemy." Edmund squeezed his brother's arm.

"May Aslan, between you and danger. Farewell, brother."

"Farewell."

TBC

#bedazzled #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #Crossover #narnia au #Snow white #regina white #lucy pevensie #lucy pevensie imagine #susan pevensie #susan pevensie imagine #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie imagine #peter pevensie #peter pevensie imagine

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years

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Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 168: Time for Miracles

Jenna took the blood sample from Mr. Branson and tried to ignore the way he was staring at her while she did. For someone that was supposedly in a relationship, his eyes certainly seemed to wander and in a creepy way.

"There…that should do it," she said, as he rolled his sleeve down.

"Thanks...so what kind of tests are you going to run on my blood?" he questioned. Now that seemed like a really odd question, but she supposed he was just curious, considering the condition of his daughter.

"Just the normal tests to make sure it's a viable sample, free of an anomalies and then we'll type match it against Lucy," she offered as an explanation. Nick stood up and started to remove his tie while her back was turned. He took both ends in his hands and prepared to eliminate another witch. This one did good, but to him, her power still came from evil and the world had to be cleansed of her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you run that sample against Lucy," he said. Her brow furrowed in confusion, but before she could turn around, she felt him behind her and choked, as he used the tie to begin choking her. She gasped for air and dug her nails into his hands, as he strangled her. He growled in frustration, as she drew blood, but he kept pulling tighter on the tie. She began to see spots in her vision and as she did, memories flooded her subconscious. The more air that left her the more clear it all became. She remembered...everything and exactly who Nick was. A tear slipped down her cheek, as she realized that she was remembering, because she was about to die. Until there was a noise outside the room, catching Nick's attention.

"Guess today is your lucky day," he growled, as he inhaled the scent of her hair

"I got to bang your brother...too bad I didn't get to screw you too, beautiful. I bet you're just as good," he hissed in her ear, before he pushed her into the wall. She gasped for air and crumpled to the floor, just as David rushed into the room. When he saw his daughter laying on the floor, he put his gun away and sank beside her, pulling her into his arms.

"Dr. Aeson…" he said, trying to rouse her. He was relieved to find that her breathing was still strong and she seemed to be just dazed, though he was livid to see the faint marks around her neck. Had he been just a few seconds later, he might have been too late, and that weighed heavily on his heart.

"Dear God...what happened?" Dr. Narita asked. David looked up though and knew the real identity of this man to be none other than his son-in-law, Paul.

"Have security seal off the exits and tell them they are looking for this man," David told him, as he showed him the photo on his phone. Dr. Narita was astonished to see that the man was the supposed father to the little girl he had been called to consult on. But he didn't hesitate and hurried out to inform security. David knew it was probably too late and he was gone. But his little girl was smart, even cursed, and he saw the blood and skin underneath her fingertips. That would be all the proof they needed to make Nick Branson a wanted man and then he wouldn't rest until he found him.

"Dr. Aeson…" he repeated, as she started to come around and looked up.

"Daddy…" she uttered and his eyes widened. He swallowed thickly, wondering if he dared to hope. Her eyes widened and she gasped, as her arms went around his neck.

"Daddy!" she cried and tears fell down his cheeks, as he hugged her fiercely and cradled her head.

"Oh Eva…" he cried.

"Daddy...it was Jack and he's with Leo!" she exclaimed.

"I know...and I'm going to get him, I promise," he said, as Snow rushed in.

"David!" she called, but she was the one to get a surprise.

"Mom…" Eva uttered.

"Eva?!" she asked tearfully, as she hugged her daughter fiercely. That's when Dr. Narita returned and Eva looked at him, her eyes shining with tears. He didn't remember her...he didn't remember that he was her husband.

"Dr. Aeson...are you okay?" he asked. She swallowed thickly and managed a nod.

"I hate to tell you this, but one of the guards saw this guy leaving, just before I got there," he reported, as he returned his phone. David nodded and put his phone to his ear.

"This is Detective Nolan...I need to issue an APB for Nick Branson immediately. He is to be considered extremely dangerous," he told the desk sergeant before hanging up again.

"Lucy…" Eva uttered, looking at her parents.

"Don't worry...we're going to take care of that," Snow assured, as she tapped her bag.

"Dr. Narita, can you check Dr. Aeson over and make sure she's okay?" David asked.

"Of course…" he agreed, as they watched the pair join hands and leave the room. But Eva knew they would be back soon and hopefully with news that her great niece was awake.

~*~

The Enchanted Forest 2

Storybrooke year - 2023

Fandral was right and it only took them a few hours on horseback to get to edge of realms. When they arrived at the narrow tunnel that acted as a portal to it, they left the horses and trekked through it on foot. When they arrived on the other side, they all marveled at the beauty of the place known as the edge of realms.

"I've only read about this place. I never thought I'd actually see it," Belle said in awe.

"So...that tunnel is like a portal?" Kristoff questioned curiously.

"Of sorts," Rose answered.

"So what now?" Anna asked.

"We summon the bi-frost and we do so by calling on Heimdall," Fandrall answered, as he prepared to use the Singasteinn to do so.

"First I think I need to give all of you some modern looking clothing. You'll stick out way too much in this stuff," Emma admonished, as she poofed their friends from Arendelle and Rose Red and her family into an assortment of modern clothes.

Hold on...we might have a problem," Belle called, as she halted them.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

"Our families are in Seattle...but in the past," Belle replied, as she leafed through the book.

"The past?" Elsa questioned.

"The year 2018 to be exact," Belle answered.

"How the hell did that happen?" Emma wondered and then her eyes widened.

"Facilier...he kept talking about the past and wanting to use the chalice to go back in time! Much further than that though," the blonde recalled.

"Just talking about going back to the past might have had an effect on the chalice," Belle suggested.

"How the hell are we going to get to Seattle in 2018?" Emma wondered. But no one had an answer and Emma's heart sank. She was starting to wonder if Clayton was right this time. Maybe there wasn't a way to save her family this time.

"Would this help?" Anna asked, as she touched her necklace.

"It's a wishing star. It worked once before," Anna reminded. Hope returned to Emma's eyes, as Anna handed it to her.

"Thank you…" she said. Anna smiled.

"Let's just hope it works again," the Princess responded, as Fandral summoned Heimdall. They all watched in amazement, as the burning rainbow bridge shot down from the sky and deposited a very large man before them.

"Heimdall!" the three demi-Asgardians called, as they all gathered around him with hugs. The hulking man smiled softly at them and then bowed respectfully to Rose Red.

"Your Majesty," he said, signifying his deep respect for her. Rose smiled and hugged him too.

"It's wonderful to see you, Heimdall," she greeted.

"I am assuming you are in need to use the bi-frost?" he questioned noticing their guests.

"Yes, there has been another curse. Snow and David are trapped in a large city in the Land Without Magic, this time in the year 2018," Fandral explained.

"We have a wishing star that will hopefully grant our wish to time travel. We just need passage to Seattle via the bi-frost," Emma added. Heimdall nodded curtly.

"I will get you there. But Emma, you must use the wishing star and think of the loved ones you are trying to reach. I believe I know of a significant landmark to deposit all of you," he said. They nodded and all joined hands, as they prepared for the journey. Emma closed her palm around the wishing star, as she thought of all the people that needed her and wished to be taken to where they were. And with that, Heimdall and their entire group disappeared through the bi-frost.

~*~

Detective Rogers marched Victoria Belfry into the precinct that evening and took her to an interrogation room. In the lobby though, as they passed, Gothel gave her a smug look.

"You have no idea the hell you are going to unleash on this city by freeing that woman, Detective," she warned, as he led her into the room.

"Really? That's the defense you're going with? A harmless woman you kept shackled to a radiator is the dangerous one?" he questioned. She smirked.

"She was shackled there, because she is the monster, Detective, I assure you. I was doing everyone a favor by keeping this particular demon locked away," she replied. He scoffed.

"If you're going for an insanity defense, I'd say you have a clear shot," he responded, as he placed the phone on the table before her and removed the cuffs.

"Make your one phone call, while you're being processed. Since it's late, I doubt even whatever high powered attorney you employ can get you out tonight, but don't worry, we have a lovely little holding cell just for you," he said, as he left her to make her call, closing the locked door behind him. Victoria frowned and clenched her teeth.

"Dammit...you have no idea what you've done, Drizella…" she cursed, before calling her attorney.

~*~

Regina glanced at her former mentor and watched, as he checked his phone for the twelfth time in the last fifteen minutes. He wasn't normally the fidgety type and rarely showed any type of unease on the outside. So she knew the fact that it was so palpable meant that something was eating at him.

"What it is?" she questioned and for once, he didn't bother to hide or refuse to tell her.

"It's Neal…" he said and then cursed inwardly.

"I mean Cassidy...he hasn't reported in," Rumple answered.

"And you're worried he could be in trouble," she surmised.

"This is Clayton we're talking about," he reminded.

"Then go find him…" she urged. But he hesitated.

"Lucy will be fine. Snow and Charming have got this...she'll be okay. But Henry has already lost one parent. Do not let him lose the other," she implored. He nodded and left wordlessly to find his son. He had a very bad feeling that Cassidy Gold was in a lot of trouble. He just hoped that he found him before the worst could happen.

~*~

It was finally the middle of the night and the thugs opened the trunk, where they had tied and gagged Cassidy Gold. Garvy pulled him out and marched him toward the edge of the bridge.

"I'd remove the gag and ask you if you have any last words, but I know the minute I take it off, you'll scream. And we can't have that," he said, as he cocked his gun. A tear slipped down Cassidy's cheek and he clenched his eyes shut tightly. He didn't want to die. Suddenly, the entire area lit up with light. The thugs all looked around, expecting cops. But this light was not from sirens or flashlights. This was a strange, multicolored light that almost seemed to be burning.

"Uh hey boss…" one of the thugs said, as he pointed into the sky. All present, including Cassidy, were stunned to see that this burning rainbow light was coming from the sky and shooting straight into the ground.

"What in the hell is that?" Garvy uttered, as there was a flash and it disappeared, leaving behind a group of people that were now before them. Cassidy was just as much in shock as the thugs.

"Whoa...that was a trip," Kristoff commented, as they looked around.

"Neal…" Emma said in disbelief, but she saw no recognition in his eyes. Still, it didn't take her much to figure out that he was in serious trouble here and she drew her weapon.

"Put your guns down!" she demanded, but the leader scoffed and put the barrel of his to Neal's head.

"In case you failed to notice, blondie...your one gun is a little outnumbered. But if you want to play too...I'm sure that can be arranged," he leered.

"I'm warning you…" Emma threatened and the thugs laughed.

"This chick is crazy," one commented, but that would be a mistake, as she nodded to Fandral. Though she had used her magic to give all of them modern clothing, Fandral was still armed with his sword. He dashed toward their would be assailants and took out two before they even knew what hit them. Garvy fired his weapon, but he wasn't fast enough for the Asgardian and Fandral disarmed him, literally, but cutting off the hand that was holding the gun. He screamed in agony and Cassidy scrambled away.

"Sorry about that...but you were going to no good with that hand," Fandral said, the men circled the Asgardian, but his sword kept them at bay and they slowly backed away.

It's okay...we're not going to hurt you," Emma told Cassidy, as she put her hands up in surrender. He relaxed slightly and let her undo his bonds and the gag.

"Who the hell are you people?" he asked.

"You're welcome…" Kristoff responded.

"You don't know us...but we're friends, I assure you," Emma added, as a car pulled up. It was not a marked vehicle, but had siren lights.

"Crap…" Emma muttered, knowing this was going to be hard to explain. But fortunately, she wouldn't have to as the person came into view.

"Rumple…" Belle uttered.

"Dad!" Gideon called, as they rushed toward him. Weaver was shocked, but not unhappy to see them, especially when he wasn't sure they would ever be able to find him. There was a genuine smile on his face, as he hugged them tightly.

"You're here…" he uttered in surprise, as he shared a tender kiss with Belle.

"We went with Emma to Rose Red's castle. She was able to find the book in her library to tell us where and when you had all been taken," Belle replied.

"Emma…" he said, finally seeing her now.

"You're alive…" he added. She smiled.

"Long story, but suffice to say I was able to hold on long enough for Elsa and the others to find me. I can fill you in on the rest later, but here in this land, I'm not having any issues with my heart," she explained. He nodded curtly.

"What the hell is going on?!" Cassidy exclaimed.

"Much that would be too difficult to explain, Mr. Gold. But you're safe now and I'll be calling in a team to take care of the riff raff. First, we need to get all of you out of here. I have a house I can allocate from the department that should meet our needs," Weaver stated.

"Wait...my parents…" Emma interjected. Weaver met her gaze.

"They're awake…" he revealed. Her eyes widened.

"Then they think…" she started to say and he nodded.

"Yes...they think you're dead. But they are at the Hyperion Heights hospital right now. We'll go there first," he replied. She nodded, as he made a few calls. One to get the thugs taken down to the station for processing and the other to get transportation for them.

His head was still reeling from everything, but he knew Emma being alive could change everything in their favor.

~*~

Snow and David appeared in the doorway to Lucy's hospital room. Anastasia looked up at them, as they entered the room.

"Can you really help her?" she asked curiously. They nodded, as they looked to Drizella, who stood next to her now younger sister.

"It would be unwise to try and stop us from saving our great granddaughter," Snow warned. She smirked.

"I won't...I never wanted this for Lucy," she responded.

"No...you just wanted to release that witch. I don't think you have any idea what you've done or what the ramifications will be," David retorted. But Drizella only smirked.

"We'll see…" she countered, as she stepped aside, allowing them to approach Lucy's bedside. Snow gently brush a hand through the girl's ebony locks.

"Hang in the sweetie...it will be just a few more minutes," she whispered, as she took the chalice out of her bag. It glowed and she closed her eyes, as he gripped her other hand.

"Please help us wake her…" she pleaded silently. The chalice glowed and a pulse of light emanated from it, before it went inside Lucy's chest. She took a deep breath and her eyes opened wide, as she awakened at last. She looked around and found her great grandparents smiling down at her. They were crying, but happy and she smiled back.

"What's happening?" she asked, as Snow gently brush her hair away from her face.

"It's a long story, sweetheart, but you're going to be okay," she promised.

"Does everyone remember yet?" Lucy asked, as David cupped her cheek with a strong hand.

"I'm afraid not yet, little one...but they will," David promised.

"Oh my God…" Jacinda uttered, as she stood in the doorway in shock.

"Lucy!" she cried, as she rushed into the room. Snow and David backed away, as the young woman hugged her daughter tightly.

"She just woke up...we were about to call Dr. Aeson," Snow said, as Jacinda looked up at them with tears streaming down her face.

"This...it feels like a miracle," she cried, as she hugged her tightly and sniffed, before she started wiping her tears away.

"Honey...do you remember what happened?" Jacinda questioned. Lucy glanced quickly at her great grandparents and then back at her mother.

"I was with gramma Belfry and she told me happy endings weren't real. Then...I don't remember after that," Lucy said.

"I'd say happy endings are very real," Snow interjected and Jacinda smiled.

"Me too," she agreed, as Dr. Narita walked in.

"I just heard...I think I should check Lucy over," he said interrupting. Snow and David nodded, as they followed Anastasia and Ivy out of the room. David pulled Snow into a fierce hug and she relished his arms around her, taking solace in him. He pressed his lips to hers then and she kissed him back with wanton passion.

"Oh David…" she breathed, as their lips parted briefly, only to meet again with desperate passion.

"She's going to be okay, Snow...and we have Eva back," he whispered.

"Leo…" she said, remembering that their son was still in the lobby and had no clue what Nick had just tried to do a sister that he did not remember. And he sensed what she was thinking.

"Don't worry, my darling. I'll tell Luke what Nick tried to do...I'll make sure he's protected," he promised. She nodded and crushed her lips against his again, simply needing to kiss him and be held by him. The night had been truly horrific, but getting Eva back and waking Lucy had made an evening of horror turn into an evening of miracles, more so than they believed at that moment.

"Come on...let's go find Luke and break the news," he said, as they returned to the lobby.

"Is she awake?" Regina asked immediately upon seeing them. They nodded and offered smiles, to which she let out a breath of relief.

"That's one good thing that happened tonight," the former Queen said.

"How about we try for two good things," Eva said, as she came out into the lobby behind them. Regina looked at her and no longer saw true recognition in her eyes.

"Eva?" she asked in disbelief. The young woman nodded and hugged the other fiercely.

"I've missed you Aunt Regina," she said.

"I missed you too, sweetheart," Regina replied, as she glanced over at her twin, who was sitting in one of the chairs, nursing a cup of coffee.

"We'll get Leo back too...what are these marks on your neck?" Regina asked.

"That was Nick...Jack...whoever he is. He got away, but not for long," David assured.

"In the meantime, we have to convince our son that remembers nothing that his boyfriend just tried to kill someone," Snow added, as she watched her husband approach the young man.

"Luke?" he asked in the most professional tone he could muster..

"Yes?" he questioned.

"I'm Detective Nolan, we met a few days ago at the zoo...and I need to speak to you about your boyfriend, Nick Branson," he stated, hating that his son was unknowingly mixed up with a killer and said killer had taken such advantage of him. Leo had been through so much and neither he nor Snow had been able to protect him from the evils the curse had wrought. But he set aside his guilt over all of that and took a deep breath.

"I remember. Is something wrong with Nick?" Luke asked.

"I'm afraid he just tried to kill someone...has he contacted you within the last ten minutes?" David asked.

"What?!" Luke exclaimed.

"That's insane! Nick wouldn't kill anyone!" he refuted.

"I'm afraid he tried to strangle Dr. Aeson. She survived the attack and she scratched him. The lab is matching the skin under her DNA to him right about now," David responded, as the young man remained shell shocked.

"I know this must be really difficult to hear, but I need to know if he has contacted you in the last hour?" David asked. Luke shook his head.

"Just a quick text that said he had an emergency with some client and that he'd be back. Guess that was a lie," Luke said bitterly, as he showed him the text.

"Okay...thanks. Listen...why don't you let me and my wife get you some more coffee?" David offered.

"I'm fine...just why would he try to kill someone?" he lamented.

"I don't know...but none of this is your fault," David assured, as he put a hand on the young man's shoulder. He searched his son's eyes for any recognition, but didn't see any and couldn't help but be disappointed by that. He wanted so badly for him to remember too so he and Snow could at least properly comfort him.

"I...I think I just need a little air," he mentioned, as he went outside. Snow and David could only exchange a sad look and watch on from a distance. He opened his arms and Snow dove into them, as he kissed her hair and held her tightly.

"What are we going to do, Charming?" she whispered to him.

"I...I don't know, my love," he responded, wishing he had answers for her...for all of them. Snow saw Weaver come in over his shoulder and noticed that he wasn't alone. Neal, who she knew was Cassidy Gold under the curse, came in behind him. But the person that followed him made her knees give out. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Was she seeing a ghost or was it some cruel trick? Was thinking what she was seeing was real too much to hope.

"Snow?" he asked in concern, as he held her up and kept her from sinking to the floor.

"David…" she murmured, her eyes still locked on the person she could see over his shoulder. The person that was now staring her dead in the eyes. David turned to see what she was fixated on and almost collapsed to the floor himself.

"Emma…" he uttered in disbelief.

"You're alive…" Snow said, choking on her tears.

"Yeah...it was a little touch and go there for a while, but I managed to stay alive long enough for Elsa and the others to find me," she explained, as they saw the Queen of Arendelle behind her, along with Anna and Kristoff. Tears streamed down their faces.

"We got Emma back to Storybrooke and just outside the town line," Kristoff added.

"And then Aphrodite created an elixir to keep my symptoms at bay until we can figure out how to cure my heart. But I'm fine here, because there's no magic," she explained. Snow smiled through her tears, as she cupped her daughter's face and then pulled her into a crushing hug.

"You found us…" she cried. Emma chuckled and her put her arms around them both, as David hugged her too and cradled her head.

"We...we thought you were dead…" David cried.

"I know...I'm sorry," she replied.

"You have nothing to apologize for, baby," Snow admonished, as she kissed Emma's cheek and David kissed her head.

"Emma...it's really you?" Eva asked tearfully.

"Eva...you're awake?" Emma asked, as they hugged.

"She's not the only one that's awake," Regina said, as she came over to them, all smiles, as she was sandwiched between Robin and Roland. She was also in tears, as she had feared she would also never see them again.

"Is there anyone except Neal that isn't awake?" Emma inquired.

"Leo's not…" Snow said.

"Killian and Alice aren't awake yet either," David added.

"And neither is Paul yet. It's a mess," Eva fretted.

"Hey...we'll figure it out. I found you guys, didn't I?" Emma replied.

"Wait...how did you find us? We're in the past," Snow inquired curiously. Emma smiled and gestured behind her. Near the entrance, they could see Rose Red, Fandral, and their children.

"We went to Rose's library and found the book. Then we summoned Heimdall so we could use the bi-frost and used Anna's wishing star to get us to the past. I don't know if that will work again, so I hope the chalice can get us back to 2023 after we break the curse," Emma said.

"It will...it got us here so I think it will take us back too," David assured.

"I'm sure there's a crap ton you need to tell me, so does this place have hot cocoa or something?" she asked. They smiled and hugged her between them again.

"Yeah...we have a lot to tell all of you," Snow said. Since it was the middle of the night, the lobby was mostly deserted, so they all found seats.

"Summer and Bobby...they need to know Emma's alive!" Snow said. Regina nodded.

"We'll go pick them up while you fill everyone in on what we're facing," the former Queen agreed, as she headed out with Robin and Roland in tow.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #season 7 AU #Hyperion Heights #Snowing centric season 7 #Roni #Weaver #Rogers #Rumbelle #Outlaw Queen #Dashing Rose #AU #romance #adventure #family #finding you always #the epic continues

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sephirotha · 5 years

Text

If Stella had Royal Arms: Axe of the Vagabond

A king who gave up his throne and riches to live resolve the revolt between him and his subjects. This is his axe. When swung, it can crack boulders in half.

---

Comet slowly rolled into Coernix Station – Cauthess. Stella kicked out the support for her motorbike and sat back, gasping for breath. Iris leaned her head against the princess, more breathless than her.

After a few minutes, Iris beat her fists into Stella’s back.

“I told you not to try warp driving!” she screamed, and onlookers turned to the girls.

“It was that or crash into that damned car!” Stella barked as they dismounted the bike.

Iris took her helmet off and slammed it onto the seat.

“Then drive on the right side of the road for a change!” she shouted.

“I was on the right side of the road!” Stella said as she took her helmet off, supporting it under her arm. “That driver swerved too far to go around the corner! He’s lucky I didn’t leave a bloody dent in his fancy car!”

“You didn’t have to warp!”

“I did, and I did it just fine, so stop complaining! If I hadn’t warped, we wouldn’t be here!”

She took Iris’s helmet and the teenager groaned.

“No, I can’t deal with this,” she sighed and stormed towards the caravan. “Don’t warp again or I swear down to Titan, you’ll have you license revoked!”

Stella raised her hands. “And without it, how are we going to go around Lucis, Iris?! We can’t all fit into Regalia!”

Her answer was the door slamming. Stella glanced at the innkeeper by the shop and waved her purse. He nodded sternly and Stella wheeled Comet to the nearest gas pump.

After paying for the fuel and a night’s stay at the caravan, Stella began cleaning up Comet, making sure there weren’t any scratches from the near incident a few miles down the road.

Luckily, it looked like she had warped just in time.

---

Meanwhile, a few miles down the road…

---

“Noct, watch where you’re going!” Ignis shouted as Noctis parked Regalia on the side of the road.

The group looked worse for wear. Noctis and Prompto looked pale like sheets, Ignis’s glasses were skewered on his face and Gladiolus had dropped his book when Noctis had abruptly swerved the car.

“There was someone on our side of the road!” Noctis said as Ignis adjusted his glasses.

“No, you were on the wrong side of the road,” Ignis argued.

Noctis sighed as he got out to examine the car. Ignis followed him as Prompto looked back.

“We should check if they’re alright,” he said as Gladiolus stepped out of the car and found his book on the road.

Ignis examined the hood of the car.

“Noct, there’s no evidence of someone hitting Regalia.”

“No, I swear I felt like I hit someone!” Noctis growled as he squinted at the hood. “There was someone right there in front of us!”

“I didn’t see anyone…” the chamberlain frowned as Gladiolus hopped back into Regalia.

“There was someone there! On a bike!”

“I saw it too, Iggy!” Prompto said and his eyes widened. “Did we see a ghost…?”

“No, we didn’t!” Noctis shook his head furiously. “I swear, I hit someone! I’m sure I felt it…”

“You’re tired, Noct,” Ignis sighed as he took the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive us the rest of the way.”

Noctis looked confused as he took the seat next to Gladiolus. Prompto was still convinced that they had seen a ghost, murmuring theories under his breath as Ignis started the car.

---

Stella swabbed her brow after cleaning Comet up. She still felt drained from warping her, Iris and the motorbike from one side of the road to the other.

Looks like she’s going to have to be selective about when to do that. She checked her phone for the time, raising her eyebrows when he saw it was only seven o’clock. Yet the sun was already down.

She hummed, swinging the rag thoughtfully. She hissed when pressure hit her in the middle of her forehead. She stumbled, holding her head.

Another headache. They’d been happening frequently as of late, even when she was driving.

She’s going to have to buy more painkillers…

“Ah, what a pleasant surprise!”

Stella jumped and turned around. She blinked in surprise when she saw a taller man, with messy red hair under a fedora. She recognised his coat and that unsettling smirk.

“I was so worried to hear about your death on the news, I must say,” he said as he tipped his hat to her. “Of course, I am delighted to see it was untrue.”

Stella placed her rag down on the bike’s handlebars.

“Ardyn, isn’t it?” she said and Ardyn beamed.

“Oh, such an honour, Your Highness!”

He took her hand and bowed elaborately to peck the back of it. Stella blushed slightly, retracting her hand a little too quickly.

“To be remembered by my darling idol…”

“Um, well, I tend to remember unique names,” Stella said as she discreetly wiped her hand on her trousers. “Also, I signed that autograph for you, didn’t I?”

Ardyn’s smile widened and Stella shifted awkwardly on the spot.

“I thought you were on the way to Gralea?” she said and Ardyn shrugged.

“Then I came back to visit Lucis,” he said. “I am a busy man, Stells. I travel a lot.”

He wandered closer to Comet fingers brushing across the leather seat. Stella tensed, and he tilted his head.

“I must confess, I was picturing a young princess such as yourself to be riding a safer vehicle.”

Stella crossed her arms as she shrugged. “I’m not a stereotypical fairy tale princess. Welcome to the modern world.”

Ardyn laughed. “So, tell me, my star, may I ask what your plans are? Insomnia’s fallen, I suppose you’re not heading to Altissia?”

“Well, there aren’t any boats that’ll take anyone there, so…”

Ardyn tilted his head and Stella looked away, fiddling with her hands.

“Word has it that you’re looking for royal tombs?”

Stella turned to Ardyn sharply and he held his hands up.

“Because, as it so happens, there is one in the vicinity.”

Stella’s eyes lit up and he grinned.

“Wait, are you being serious?” she asked as she stepped closer and he nodded. “That’s great! Where is it?”

“Oh, I’d have to show you,” Ardyn shrugged. “It is difficult to locate and honestly, I stumbled upon it by accident.”

Stella frowned and nodded. “Alright, then I guess we can go tomorrow…”

“Ah, that would be a problem.” Ardyn pointed to the moon. “This tomb only appears in the light of the full moon.”

Stella hesitated, her shoulders sagging. “Well, OK. I can take some time to stock up on curatives and get my shield…”

“Oh, but she’s such a young thing!” Ardyn said as he stepped in her path. “And she looked exhausted from your journey to here.” He took his hat off to place over his left breast. “But fret not, sweet star. I can assure you that I can be just as effective if not more. This old man still has some tricks up his sleeve.”

Stella swallowed. Everything about this screamed suspicious and shady. She narrowed her eyes.

“Mr…?”

“Oh, Ardyn alone is just fine, Stells.”

“Ardyn. You’d forgive me for feeling a little perturbed by the idea of us alone in the dark. Especially if you might be leading me to my death.”

Ardyn looked hurt as he took a step back.

“Oh, my star! I can give you a gentleman’s honour that I would never lay a finger on you!” His lips quirked slightly as he reached out, fingertips brushing her chin. “I daren’t harm a hair on your head.”

He placed his hat back on his head and adjusted his coat.

“And believe me when I say that I wouldn’t take advantage of you, no matter how tempting it is to keep you all to myself.”

“You are not making a good case for yourself,” Stella said sharply.

Ardyn pointed to the moon. “Oh, but Stells, time is ticking. You’d have to wait another month for this opportunity and that would be inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

Stella narrowed her eyes.

“…Very well, Ardyn. But forgive me if my hand slips if yours wanders.”

Ardyn laughed and held his hands up. “Oh, I understand, my star. Shall we?”

---

Stella was able to maintain keeping her distance from Ardyn using the Lance of the Dragoon. She could soar through the sky, like an angel as her temporary comrade had commented, and pierce through enemies like they were pincushions.

At least Ardyn could throw around his weight, she’ll give him that much. He limped slightly when fighting but he was strong.

Iris was strong too but wasn’t as experienced as this man.

---

Stella caught her breath as she rested on top of an Iron Giant, lance still pierced in its armour. Ardyn dismissed his sword and applauded her.

“Well struck, little angel,” he said, and Stella rolled her eyes. “Not too far now.”

Stella dismissed her lance and dropped down from the giant. She stumbled on the shaky landing, gasping as Ardyn caught her.

“Careful now,” he said as he helped her get her footing. “Just over here.”

Stella followed Ardyn down the dark valley. She paused when she saw red lights decorate the stone around them.

“Here we are.”

Stella’s eyes bulged as she saw a cave opening, bordered by the glowing red runes. Ardyn beckoned her closer, gesturing for her to go in.

“Come now. We haven’t got much time.”

Stella nodded as she strode into the opening. Ardyn lingered outside as she found the king’s coffin before her.

She held her hand out for the double-edged axe with a long handle. It rose from its previous owner’s hand and went through her chest.

The princess jumped, clutching the front of her shirt as it circled her with the rest of her weapons.

Her Armiger disappeared, and she sighed.

Curious, she summoned the Axe of the Vagabond and stumbled at the axe’s weight.

Whereas her regular axe could be wielded with one hand and was easy to use, this one would take two and a lot more strength.

She dismissed it and walked out of the tomb. Ardyn greeted her with a smile.

“Thank you,” she said, and he grinned wider.

“At your service, my Queen,” her companion purred with a short bow.

Stella held back her cringe as she followed him back to the outpost.

---

“Such a beautiful night,” Ardyn hummed when they finally arrived back. “So many stars out to look down upon us.” He smirked down at Stella. “And I am blessed to have one right beside me.”

Stella grimaced and yawned.

“Not meaning to be rude,” she sighed and rubbed her eyes. “But I should get some sleep.”

“Oh, but I have one, last selfish request.”

Stella was close to stamping her foot in protest. “What is it?”

Ardyn offered his hand. “May I ask for five minutes to stargaze with you?”

“Depends, since your definition of five minutes is questionable.”

Ardyn chuckled and shrugged. “Please, my dear?”

Stella shrugged. “Suppose there’s no harm.”

Ardyn grinned and looked up at the caravan. “Ah, it would be nice to be on top of those. Alas, I am not as young as I used to be.”

“You don’t look…” Stella closed her eyes and shook her head. “If you want, I can warp us up. It won’t take much of my mana.”

Ardyn’s eyes practically sparkled. “Why, that would be an honour.”

He held his hands out and Stella ignored them, going to grab his coat. She focused on the caravan and in a flash, they were standing on top of it. The princess stumbled slightly.

She hadn’t expected Ardyn to be so light.

Ardyn hummed in delight as he sat on the edge of the caravan, looking at the sky.

“Ah, you can see the Oracle King from here,” he said as he pointed to a constellation. “There he is, holding the Oracle’s trident.”

Stella sat beside him, squinting at the stars.

“Oracle King?”

Ardyn chuckled, shaking his head.

“A king who watched the Oracle of his time perish before his eyes,” he said with a melancholic tone, “so he took up her trident and was both the Oracle and King of Eos until a successor was selected.”

He leaned back, smile fading.

“The fate of the Oracles is a tragic one…”

Stella frowned as he seemed to lose his thoughts amongst the stars.

“You…seem well versed in the history of my family.”

“Why, of course! A bloodline so strong to live for two millennia! It is interesting to read about them.”

Stella shivered as a cold breeze brushed past them. She pulled her jacket closer.

“I should get to Iris…”

She stopped talking as Ardyn took his coat off and put it around her shoulders.

“For a few more minutes.”

Stella grimaced but nodded. They sat in silence, looking at the stars shining down at them.

---

Ardyn watched the sun rise over the horizon, banishing the stars of the night. He glanced at the princess on his shoulder, an arm wrapped around her to stop her from falling off the caravan.

He tilted his head, smirked and placed his hat on her. Stella stirred, and he chuckled softly.

His smile dropped slightly as Stella hissed and raised a hand to massage her temples.

Titan was calling for the twins to come to him. He suspected Noctis was having similar headaches.

“What the…?” the princess mumbled as she blinked her eyes open, wincing at the dawn’s light.

“Good morning, Stells.”

Stella blinked blearily at Ardyn and he smiled.

“Sleep well?”

Stella yawned and winced, holding her head.

“Oh, my head…”

Ardyn glanced at the Disc in the centre of the landscape.

“Say,” he hummed, “before I return you to your shield, how about we take a quick trip to the Disc of Cauthess?”

Stella blinked and frowned. “Why would I want to do that?”

Ardyn grinned. “Oh, for a bit of fun. Maybe a quick, cultural lesson whilst you have the opportunity.” He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted it up. “A piece of advice from an old man, my princess. Always grab the opportunities when they appear before you.”

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