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#Scribbling away in her journal until she forgets how to write
oculusxcaro · 10 months
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When Khare's mutation advances to the point that it can no longer be hidden, she will straight up vanish off the face of the earth, quitting her job at Pauli's Diner with a quick phonecall before abandoning her apartment in the dead of night. Everything she owns will be left behind in a hurry, other than the few items that could identify her which will promptly be destroyed and dumped into Gotham Bay before she heads deep into the sewers, only daring to venture out on rare occasions for the things she needs until she can no longer pretend she's even human.
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tasiales · 5 months
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writing prompt idea - Alcina Dimitrescu x reader (long text below)
you've just recently started your new job as a nurse at the asylum, and it's during one of many meetings with one of your patients you're assigned to now what makes you trully fear for your life for the first time since you started your working journey there.
it takes one quick glimpse towards the haunched woman sitting seemingly peacefully on her bed scribbling something away in her journal to take your breath away. the woman before you is stunningly beautiful; her features and soft curves of her body hidden underneath all the clothing remind you that of someone sculpted by the gods themselves. it's only after your quick introduction to her that you've been pulled aside by one of your new colleagues to warn you in hushed whispers about previous unfortunate accidents revolving all other nurses ever interacting with your new patient you'd just met.
she's dangerous, they said.
be attentive around her, they warned.
she's a lunatic, they proclaimed.
how could she be, you thought, when she's one of your peaceful patients who you never had a problem with and whose sign of acknowledgement is barely there nods and tentative smiles she gives you during your rambling episodes to fill the silence in the time it takes you to finish your tasks. honestly, she's a delightful company in regards of not messing with you like others tend to do throughout your regular checkups. you try to focus on staying professional but it's hard to resist the pull you feel towards this mysterious woman who barely speaks. you'd been told she has amnesia and doesn't remember much, and you can't help but be sympathetic towards her with that bleeding heart of yours.
you don't give those warnings you'd received at the beginning of your job any ounce of significance until it's too late.
you have no clue what could be the cause of her enraged moment - snapping at you like that - but you don't feel like finding out any time soon. it was one of your checkups during which she suddenly lunged at you knocking the tray you were holding out of her way, pills and other equipment scattering on the floor and getting crushed under your feet. you had barely any time to think of screaming before there were hands around your throat and strong legs weighing down on you pinning you to the floor which you hadn't even noticed you were pulled down to. luckily for you, all the commotion taking place in the room was loud enough for one of the guards to take notice in; with their line of work they were accustomed to picking up on even the slightest signs of sound disturbance. you would never in your life forget those eyes staring down at you; they shined alarming golden - which was as disturbing as the fact she's physically strong enough to kill you - smoldering and daunting making your blood run cold, and in that moment you came to realize one thing that was probably meant to be kept as secret... that woman is not entirely human.
now resting in the safety of your apartment recovering from your miss death encounter, your fight or flight instinct though still in overdrive making you paranoid and jumpy, you're thinking back to that moment - with the woman you've been attracted to for a while squeezing the life out of you - you should've recognized something amiss when those eyes of hers - normal human grey-ish color before she went berserk - had started staring you down; should've heard the low tremble of her growls stuck in her throat waiting for the moment to be unleashed. you should've seen it coming, should've paid more attention and not getting your guard down like you'd been warned about not to do. but you were too preoccupied with chatting away believing in the innocence of your patient. now you know better.
you still don't know what was the reason for her to lash out in such a way, with such ferocity and animalism - the only topic you talked about when she decided it was a good day as any to choke you was Greek mythology(it's being your hobby since childhood), with Cassandra being brought up that particular day - and those golden eyes that still haunt your dreams is another mystery you're not sure you ought to crack open.
Or
you're a new nurse at the asylum getting attached to one particular patient of yours - mysterious Alcina Dimitrescu with amnesia who your colleagues claim to be deranged and a lost cause - until she assaults you during one of the checkups, and you're left wounded and terrified for your life. it isn't until few weeks later you have a chance at civil conversation with her but what you hear makes you want to rethink your eager approach to forgive her because cults? some cryptic sounding Miranda responsible for getting Alcina locked up at the asylum? her daugters being in danger from that woman? even though police claimed them to be dead? them being not entirely human? you talking about Cassandra triggered her memory? the two last ones you may believe but the rest of it? you find this all hard to be convinced of with no proof whatsoever. you would've thought her crazy if not for the fact that while looking at the sketch of that Miranda that Alcina showed you, dread starts pooling in the pit of your stomach because you recognize this woman staring at you from the confines of the journal; she's been everywhere you look after the choking accident making you all the more suspicious than you already were. now you think you were right to be unreasonably fearful of people surrounding you these days.
the question is... would you dive in into this sea of madness helping a complete stranger who you feel a pull towards and resurface unscathed, or would it consume you without mercy? only time will tell.
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nearest-dearest · 1 year
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Sunny (Wally Darling x fem!reader!)
Just a story about a day dreaming girl always in melancholy. Finding her sun in the most quaint little neighborhood. (If you got the references I used in this story let me know 👀.)
(Y/n) three prizes so far. That means there's a lot more to find. At least that's what she assumes. The world she travels to is quite vast, they say that the world is small, but people really under estimate how much a single world can keep some people from seeing each other again. And it's not uncommon for objects that got lost during an adventure to be never found again. Unless you look a little closer to places where you would last look for it. But (Y/n) found no urgency in collecting all the prizes, she just wants to explore and see what this world has to offer. But that will have to wait, for (Y/n) found herself opening her eyes once more. The world turns into her small little room, with the sun rays peeking though the curtains of the window.
She's awake. . .
And she has a story to write.
The neighborhood is as warm and peaceful as it always is. The residents began to emerge from their sleep. Julie Joyful starts her morning off by giving Frank Frankly a surprise visit to rattle on about a new game she had created. Eddie started sorting out mails and letters to be delivered, Howdy Pillar gets his store ready for the day and the rest start off their morning with a cup of coffee. Such resident includes the neighborhood painter, Wally Darling. As he waits for inspirations to come to mind, he caught a peculiar sight outside his window.
(Y/n), dressed in a lovely (F/c) summer dress and carrying her signature leather journal. She must be off to write another story by the woods. Albeit it's a bit too early, but Wally understood. Artists often create art when the inspiration is fresh before they forget.
Speaking of inspiration. One had just came to Wally, and it requires the help of the presence of a certain author. Finishing his cup of coffee, he began to get ready for the day and gather his art supplies.
No matter how (Y/n) thinks and write away, she couldn't get that image out of her head. The way the blonde girl turned into a strange dark creature, (Y/n) already doodled the strange creature on her journal, and it did nothing to calm her urge to fall asleep and find that house where the blonde girl lived. She needed to see that creature again. So her curiosity can be satisfied. So she could complete her dream journal and eventually, complete her story.
The rustling of the bushes had (Y/n) looking up from her journal. A small dread tugged on her stomach at the prospect of a dangerous woodland creature. Dread into relief quickly took place in (Y/n)'s face when she saw familiar blue hair and a painting easel sticking out of the green background like a sore thumb.
"Howdy Neighbor!" Wally greeted as he got out of the bushes and dusting off any leaves that caught on his lovely hair and clothes.
"Wally! Hello, what brings you here today?" (Y/n) asks as Wally walks over until he's next to you.
"Oh nothing much, just trying to look for inspiration for my paintings. And I thought nature would be the perfect theme."
"Sounds great Wally."
"It does, but I don't know what to paint though."
"What?" (Y/n) looked up from her journal again.
Wally continues "Should I paint flowers? The trees? A rock? Or should I try painting all of them? What do you think neighbor?"
"Hm." (Y/n) pondered for a moment "Maybe you should do all of them in once scenery, it would be nice to see the forest painted."
"Great! Thanks for the suggestion. I'll try painting the scenery before me."
Wally then began, sketching , all while (Y/n) focuses on her writing.
It's always been like this with Wally and (Y/n). With both being artists of different mediums, silence is a given, as focus and patience is needed to complete the project at hand the project at hand. And sometimes basking in a fellow artist's presence is enough. The sound of pen and pencil scribbling tangled with the forest ambience. Wally likens the atmosphere to the first time (Y/n) came to the neighborhood.
A shy demure fellow she was, but after spending time with Julie, (Y/n) slowly but surely, came out of her she'll. Reveling her hobbies and interests, and also began writing stories for the neighborhood. The first time Wally ever got to really know her, was when he got out of his house for the a night time stroll. Why? Because he spotted (Y/n) walking around the neighborhood with nothing but a lantern to guide her way.
Curious as ever, Wally got out and started following (Y/n) was as easy as pie.
"Why so Gloomy neighbor?"
We're the first words he asked when he approached (Y/n). Who's expression is akin to that of a rainy day. Given that though, her carrying an umbrella everyday made some sort of sense, rain or shine, gloomy gray clouds always follow her everywhere she goes. If (Y/n) was a weather, Wally believes that she will be rain. But that was a long time ago, Wally can see that gloominess is still a part of her, but she's now more akin to a cloudy day. Cold, but warmth can still be found.
"Is that a new story you're writing neighbor?"
(Y/n) shook her head "No, it's just a dream journal, I've been getting a lot of strange dreams lately."
"Oh? What kind of dreams?"
(Y/n) shrugs "Just a vast world with a touch of surrealism that is. It's just that there are so much traveling there, and if I were to have those dreams again, at least I where I left off."
Wally laughs a little "Well I hope your endeavors bare fruit. Does it make you happy?"
"Of course! I love traveling new places."
"Then cherish your adventures."
"Don't worry Wally, I will."
At least Wally understood, or rather, at least respect your hobbies. Your old neighbors would've called you silly for it. Wally is just like that, understanding for those around them (Unless it involves apple pie.). Maybe that's why she was completely comfortable with telling him what she said on that night he accompanied her on her walk.
"I'm not really fond of sunny days."
Naturally, Wally wanted to know why. And wanting someone to listen to her problems, (Y/n) says why.
"The sun just irritates my skin, that's all. I was born with sensitive skin, that's why I carry an umbrella at all times."
(Y/n) sighs "I never knew what the warmth of the sun felt like."
And Wally gave you nothing but understanding and support, which was already more than enough for (Y/n).
If only (Y/n) could clarify, if only she can reveal that she finally knows what the warmth of the sun feels like. All thanks to Wally Darling. She started making friends, because of Wally introducing her to the whole neighborhood during a picnic. She started out more despite her condition, thanks to Wally taking her to the forest to gain some inspiration. She started opening up more, thanks to Wally.
They say that the break of dawn can mean a new beginning. Well, (Y/n) finally left the eternal night and into daylight. (Y/n) likens Wally to the sun that shined his bright light, by just being a good friend and neighbor.
Though, you wouldn't caught her saying all of these. Even if you pried her lips open.
All she needed is someone who understands or respect her, and Wally is willing to provide that.
"What's got you smiling (Y/n)?" Wally asks and (Y/n) answers.
"Just thought of a story in my head."
"Is it a funny one?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
"Awe come on, I can keep a secret."
(Y/n) laughs a little at Wally's attempt to get a sneak peek of the story.
"Sorry Wally, but not today."
Wally will know one day, or maybe he won't. Regardless of what happens, (Y/n) is just glad to have him as a friend.
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tzuyubit · 1 year
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ups and downs
note: this was originally a request from a different fandom that i wrote for that i changed up a bit. i’m sorry if this ooc, this is my first time writing for tzuyu. please be nice and keep in mind i mean no harm at all.
sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes.
warnings: deals with the topic of eds.
. . .
: tzuyu?
: i'm sorry, i know it's late but
: i know you said to message you whenever i feel this way. so i am. but i feel so bad, i'm so sorry.
: i just didn't know what else to do.
if you had been in a rational state of mind, you would've opted out of texting tzuyu. you hated feeling like you were bothering her, but somehow she always managed to reassure you that nothing was ever too much for her to handle.
so in your frantic mindset, your thumbs raced out to reach her.
it's okay, you told yourself. she would want you to do this.
it was currently 2:36 in the morning and you were losing your grip on reality all because of the simple fact that you'd forgotten to log your food intake all day.
you'd gotten so carried away between lively things that it unintentionally slipped your mind.
how could you forget? it was such a habitual thing for you to do.
but between your panicked, rushed out breaths, you didn't hear the sound of your phone buzzing. the sound of tzuyu.
it had been twenty minutes since you sent her those texts, twenty minutes of you sitting on your bedroom floor, scribbled notebook in hand with tears rolling down your face.
meanwhile, tzuyu drove to your place of stay as fast as she could, not caring if she was breaking any laws. she knew you felt like a burden most of the time, so with that information she knew you wouldn't text her unless something was truly wrong.
the blonde woman didn't miss a beat rushing to your door. she fumbled with the key, cursing at how much of an inconvenience locked doors could be in such a moment of desperation.
tzuyu didn't have to think twice before making her way to your room, already hearing the sound of your cries the second she walked through the door. 
seconds later she was kneeling in front of you. "y/n? can i sit next to you?" you nodded, instantly bringing your shaky body into hers.
sh tensed at first, but put aside her distain for physical touch for the sake of your comfort.
"what happened?" she questioned, mechanically rubbing her hand up and down your back.
"it's stupid, so stupid." you sniffled, bringing your head into your knees. "i can't believe i forgot. it's not possible, i never forget!"
tzuyu took the time to scan your surroundings, finding torn pages from your notebook with scribbles covering lines with various amounts of numbers underneath them. it didn't take long for her to connect the dots, making you worry even more about what she was thinking of you.
"i'm sorry, i know you've never seen me in this state. it must be awkward for you." tzuyu frowned, her hand stopping all movement at once. "there's nothing for you to be sorry for. you know i prefer it when you text me. i'd rather be here with you than have you go through this alone." 
your breaths were still heavy and quick paced, but as you leaned into your girlfriend they seemed to lighten. tzuyu kicked your food diary out of view, hoping that maybe if you didn't see the "crime" you'd committed, you wouldn't feel so guilty.
"are you willing to talk about it?"
wiping your eyes, you attempted to speak through your labored breathing.
"i log my food, it's what i do. i have to do it. you know why." speaking was hard do to, tzuyu understood that. so she let you take as long as you needed, listening to each and every word you fumbled over. "i must've forgotten because i was so busy with everything today. i didn't even realize it until i noticed my journal laying on my nightstand untouched."
tzuyu nodded, taking in the information you so carefully passed to her and came to her own conclusions.
"so it's apart of your routine, right? one missed day will not hurt you, no matter what your brain is telling you. and even though i don't exactly support your habit of logging your food, mostly because from what i've read it's not enough fuel for your body, if it helps you and you need it, i'm here to support you. i know i'm not the best at physical comfort, but i'll still always be here for you. i hope you know that."
the blonde took your hand and moved you to your bed, sitting next to you as you laid down. she then placed her hand on your chest, "remember that it's just one day." 
you nodded, and for the next seven minutes or so watched tzuyu's chest rise and fall, eventually returning back to your own regulated state of breathing.
"mistakes happen, but they don't always make you a bad person, especially not something like this. i'm glad you reached out to me though, i just hope that one day you won't feel the need to rely on such a small thing for so much of your worth." 
you squeezed her hand, suddenly feeling exhausted from the extreme reaction. tzuyu stayed with you throughout the night, checking your every needs, never leaving your side until you felt safe.
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electricfied-wolf · 2 years
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SGRB oneshot bc I cannot sleep
A little fic about Alex and Thunder, also little bit about Shiny at the end. The fic is below!
Nightmares aren’t an uncommon occurrence for young Alex Rose. They began to pop up shortly after her parents disappeared, the shock of the situation had really stuck with her. She’d go to Creed, the person who her life had been entrusted to, and he would sit with her in the night. He’d talk to her until she fell asleep, he’d let her sleep in his bed.
But Alex felt the need to be mature. Adult. Strong. Stone-faced. Even as young as she had been, so much pressure was on her shoulders, and she didn’t want to show weakness to anyone. When she began to get a little older, around 8 years old, Alex refused to go to anyone about her nightmares. Insisting she could handle herself. Working all night into the morning on a different robot design, but that only made things worse, because all she could think about when she thought abouts robots…was Shiny. She missed him. He’d left her. And she was little, she didn’t entirely understand why. A part of her was beyond mad at him, the other part wishing every single day and night that he’d come home.
Around when she was 12, Alex finally worked out every kink in her designs. Thunder survived each test. He was strong and practically perfect in every department. He was smart and didn’t seem to want to deal with complicated emotional situations. Just like Alex. She was willing to put her sadness over Shiny behind her when she was around him, after all, he was the new guardian of earth, a rather fancy one that she made. She didn’t hate Thunder, no, that wasn’t it. It was that part of her that had trouble trusting Thunder when he left base. The part of her that made her stomach churn when he defeated a kaiju and was told to return to base. It was hard for her to let go…and even though he was blind to most emotions, Thunder knew from the moment he was informed of Shiny’s tragic tale how Alex felt about him, about both of them…and it was going to take time for her to really trust Thunder. And as always, he knew exactly what to do.
“Stop it, Alex. It’s just another nightmare.” The girl repeated to herself as she sat up in her bed, clutching the blankets to her chest. “You’ve been having them since you were 3, you’re used to this by now.” She grumbled, climbing out of bed. She found it harder to keep her mind occupied ever since Thunder had been verified as the new guardian, because she didn’t really have anything new to work on. She didn’t want to disturb him in the night, but maybe she could just look him over and see if he needed any upgrades. Something to keep her busy until she felt tired enough to go back to bed. So, quickly slipping on her shoes and her jacket, Alex made her way down to where they kept Thunder. There were two spaces, one for Thunder, and one where Shiny had been. She tried not to look at the second one, and mainly focused on the stiff, still robot, only illuminated by the Z pattern flashing across his screen. She had to use a flashlight to properly navigate down the stairs, and soon she found herself at Thunder’s feet, way too often did Alex forget how huge he was, she had to crane her neck and step back just to see his chest, only barely able to see his head from the ground. Once she’d found a good spot, she sat down, positioning the flashlight to shine on what areas of Thunder’s body that it could cover, then she opened up her journal, and began to scribble furiously. There wasn’t really any noise, just the sound of her drawing and writing, the low rumbles of what machinery was turned on, and the steady humming and purring that came from Thunder. It was calming, in a way, listening to the noises that his inner workings made while he recharged. It almost sounded like snoring, or a happy cat. Right away, Alex began to relax, but there was still an uncomfortable feeling gnawing at her…
“Alex.” “AH!” Alex Yelled, falling onto her back, she quickly sat up, craning her neck upwards again, to find that Thunder had suddenly activated. He stared down at her, his face held so much less emotion than Shiny’s had, but she couldn’t help but think he was trying to give her a genuine look of concern as he knelt down. She’d never seen Thunder move to this position before, he usually waited for somebody to come to his level, or lean down slightly, but now he was on both of his knees, his arms planted firmly on the floor, his face as eye-level with Alex as he could get.
“Heyyy Thunder, what’re you doing up?” Alex asked, rubbing the back of her neck nervously as she collected her items from the floor. “I could ask you the exact same question, Alex Rose.” Thunder responded in his monotone voice. “Eh, just one of those nightmares, you know how it is.” Alex said it so nonchalantly, turning her attention back to her work. It was a little concerning.
“That does not explain why you are down here.” His responses were so quick that it was hard to say anything back, as much as she loved having somebody on her intellectual level, small talk with Thunder wasn’t as pleasant as science talk with him.
“I need something to keep me occu-” “You need comfort.” Thunder didn’t even let her finish. He narrowed his eyes, and suddenly his screen showed far more emotion than before. “No, I’m good. You know me, super genius and all that. I just need busy work.” She faked a smile as she spoke, but even she knew that Thunder wouldn’t buy a single bit of it. “I understand that I am not built for emotional strength, however, if you refuse to seek support from another human, then it is I who must provide that.” “I don’t need any support, Thunder.” “You are not over the loss of Shiny.” His tone shifted, “I have seen it in the way you behave towards me, both in person and over call. You work with me as we are meant to, but you do not trust that I will always return home. I remind you too much of the original guardian robot. In spite of that, I have trusted you more than any other member at this facility. If we are to be at our best, we must trust each other 100%.” Alex felt a large finger prod at her, forcing her to stand up. “And that can only happen if you and I both function at full capacity. From what I understand, you cannot function if you do not rest. Being wound up from a nightmare prevents you from resting.” He guided her onto her hand, and she didn’t put up a fight, she accepted it, being brought right up to Thunder’s face. There was silence between them, and the lack of words allowed Alex to listen to Thunder’s noises again. When awake, he had more control over his internal systems, she usually couldn’t hear anything…so why could she hear it now? That same rumbly, purring noise that he was making not too long ago, the one that soothed her so much… “You’re doing it on purpose.” She said, “You’re purring to help me…calm down, aren’t you?”
“How else am I supposed to get you to fall asleep?” That was the first time she ever heard a genuine emotion in Thunder’s voice, his tone change, his facial expression, it was something she’d never seen from him before. Alex slowly reached out, and placed a hand on Thunder’s face-screen, then, she leaned her entire body against it. “Thanks, Thunder. I really appreciate it.” “You….are welcome.”
Going to Creed or any other human felt too childish to her, even as she grew a little more, even when she turned 13. But going to Thunder didn’t. Thunder never made her talk about her nightmares. Thunder understood her emotions on a level that nobody else did. Thunder could put her to sleep just by making those purring sounds. And her nightmares eased up bit by bit, never fully going away, but she knew that if they came back, she could go to Thunder.
Then Shiny came back. Alex was overjoyed, but there is always a downside to something like this. Even though Shiny’s return was a good thing, it brought back her bad nightmares in full swing, that anxiety returned too, because Shiny was so ready to get back out there, and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing him again. So when she had a particularly nasty one, Alex went down to talk to Thunder, to have him calm her down and put her to sleep, or at least make her tired enough that she could fall right asleep the second she got into bed…but it wasn’t Thunder who woke up right away this time. “Oh! Hey Alex!” Shiny greeted her, smiling, waving, seeing him after the nightmare she’d just had was so comforting, it was good to know her big red goofball was okay. “Hey Shiny. I’m just coming down here to talk to Thunder, you can go back to sleep.” Alex greeted him back, then turned to where Thunder stood. “Mind if I ask what you’re doing? You, uh, are usually asleep by now, right?” Shiny tilted his head in confusion, his antenna wobbling over to the side as he watched Alex approach his little brother. 
“Eh, just something Thunder and I started doing about a year ago. Bad dreams, that stuff.” Alex responded. She knocked on Thunder’s foot, and he started up, immediately looking down to where Alex stood. It seemed so instinctual, and Shiny wasn’t sure what was going on. Thunder lifted Alex into his hands, and…sat down, then, he started to rumble. He purred, like he did when he slept, but it was louder, on purpose, and Alex…seemed to like it. That made him realize something, as he watched Alex snuggled up to Thunder’s screen…he really had missed out on bonding with Alex. Thunder was still rather new, he knew that much, he’d only existed for about a year or so, but a year or so was still more than Shiny had ever really gotten. He’d never had much hands-on interaction with Alex back when she was little, but Thunder had spent about a year getting to know her, to the point where she came to him over a nightmare. He and Alex had certainly grown closer ever since he’d come back, but Shiny couldn’t help feeling left out when he saw Alex and Thunder interact. They had more time to get to know each other. “Are you…feeling okay?” Shiny asked, trying to distract himself from these pretty unpleasant thoughts. “I’m…fine, Shiny.” Alex said with a yawn, “It wasn’t…too bad, but I’m glad you’re awake. Gives me peace of mind.” “Why?” Alex tensed up, and when she did, Thunder’s purring noises increased in volume. “I just…well, you coming back brought out a lot of old memories, and I may or may not have…had a dream about you…not the best one either.” She sighed, leaning her back against Thunder’s face. 
“Is it because I left?” Shiny asked, he sounded pretty upset, looked pretty upset too, and Alex’s silent, solemn nod only made him feel worse.
“It’s okay, though, because it was just a dream. And you’re here now. And I know that you and Thunder are both here at the base, with me, safe and okay.” Alex seemed to be talking more to herself than Shiny, fiddling with the sleeves of her pajamas, she was trying to get herself to relax, and went quiet so that she could focus on Thunder’s noises. 
“You…wanna hear a joke?” Shiny waited for a response, his mood changing just a little when she nodded.
That night, the little routine between Thunder and Alex changed, it now included Shiny. Whenever Alex had a bad dream, she came down to where the brothers were, she listened to Thunder’s purring and Shiny’s rambling, and she felt safe. No matter what happened, they had her back at night, and she had their backs in the daytime.
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haledamage · 2 years
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#love to be a fly on the wall for the 'oh btw my admiral is sending me with you' conversation :3 ( @queen-scribbles) weeellll, as it happens, I had written the aftermath of that as part of the fic originally, but it didn’t fit so I ended it earlier. it didn’t take much twisting of my arm to convince me to finish writing it ;)
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The house was less lavish than Vasco expected. He’d assumed a diplomat of Nadia’s station - the daughter of a princess, no less - would live in something more like the governor’s palace. Empty marble hallways and sprawling rooms and enough space that no one ever saw each other if they didn’t want to. Soulless extravagance.
Nadia’s house was crooked and narrow, draped with layers of color and texture, with wooden walls that creaked like bulkheads whenever the wind blew. There were enough rooms for the four of them, plus a few others as yet unclaimed, but they would all still be living in close quarters, sharing a breakfast table and squeezing around each other in hallways.
He was grateful for it. It reminded him a little of home, if he ignored how steady the ground beneath him was.
He ran into Nadia in the hall outside his room, almost literally.
She looked smaller here, softer and somehow diminished, back in her fancy clothes with tidy hair and her arms full of books. The smile she gave him was almost nervous. “Hi.”
“Hello, Nadia.” In contrast, he felt too big for this space, like he was all angles and edges, and had to fight the urge to duck through doorways.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Just days ago they had been on the verge of… something. Something special. But now that their relationship, such as it was, had gone from 'temporary' to 'for the foreseeable future', they felt like strangers again.
He could still remember what it felt like to kiss her. Like holding a storm in his arms. Where were they supposed to go after that? Did they pretend it never happened, or go on as if nothing had changed?
"Did you still want to get that drink?" she asked, as if she’d read his mind. He didn't miss the hope in her voice, though he had a feeling she already knew the answer all the same.
"Not tonight." Vasco couldn't meet her eyes as he spoke, suddenly fascinated by the worn leather of his gloves. It was easier than seeing her disappointment. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m going to be the best company right now. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“I can imagine.” If Nadia was upset by his rejection, she hid it well.
There was a shuffling of paper that drew his attention back to her. He watched her dig through the stack of books in her arms until she found the one she was looking for. She pulled it out of the pile and pressed it to his chest, holding it there until he pulled his thoughts together enough to take it.
Her eyes were very blue when they met his, and the look in them was almost enough to make him forget why he’d just turned her down. “You know where to find me if you change your mind. Or just if you need someone to talk to.”
He nodded mutely, and watched her walk away. Only after her bedroom door clicked closed did he look at the book she’d handed him. It was the journal he’d seen her sketching in on their voyage. Every page was full of drawings, in chalk or charcoal or ink, of the Sea Horse and her crew. Some pages had notes written in the margins in Nadia’s delicate, spidery handwriting, providing context about the contents or her own thoughts about the people or subjects involved.
It was a piece of his home, of his family, that he could carry with him. A connection to the ocean while he was stuck on solid ground.
He didn’t even bother to return to his room to set the book down, simply brought it with him as he strode down the hallway in the direction she’d disappeared in.
She answered the door on the first knock, but clearly hadn’t expected him to be on the other side of it. “Vasco--”
Vasco spoke over the rest of her greeting before he could lose his nerve. “Maybe… just one drink.”
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blush-and-books · 3 years
Text
i’m sorry, but i fell in love tonight
short fic based off of this gifset by @juliesmolinas and the song is there somewhere by halsey. in fact it is mandatory that you listen to the song/read the lyrics/both before/during reading this. yes i said mandatory.
angst with a sappy ending, julie goes through a lifetime of emotions in less than 3k, was originally gonna write when i was in a more emotionally raw state but writing this made me emotionally raw so... enjoy <3
warnings: swearing
Julie made the promise at some point -- she just doesn’t know exactly when.
It may have been when he appeared at her school, all shy smiles and soft glances, professing that she made him a better writer. Or, more definitively, it could have been when she forlornly pulled him into her arms a moment before she was positive that she was to lose him forever. 
All that she knew was her time with Luke was fleeting. So she swore that her butterfly-wing crush was not allowed to fill her chest or dizzy her thoughts; that his lyrics would mean nothing more next to hers than words on a page and his touches would bring her little to no comfort.
Luke Patterson could not complete her. 
The universe wouldn’t allow it -- and neither would Julie Molina. 
But -- either Luke was blissfully unaware of their impending doom or he genuinely didn’t care -- he forced himself through every barrier she attempted to erect. And it was driving her nearly insane, because she made a promise to protect herself. 
Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to do it. Or maybe the universe, despite refusing to give Julie Luke in his entirety, did not want her to be protected. 
It was all in the little things-
When she stayed up with him in the garage, playing him all of the songs he’s missed in 25 years, and he danced around on the slippery floor in his socks and grinned at her with wide green eyes. The neon emerald in the dim light was reminiscent of driving on the highway and passing sign after sign leading to the exits she could have taken, but couldn’t bring herself to.
How New Years Eve arrived and the Molina family gathered in the driveway to light sparklers; Luke’s hand brushing hers as he passed off one of the two in his hands. 
In his head lulling onto her shoulder while she was trying to finish some homework with his help on the torn couch and his lips moving against her bare skin  as he mumbled that she needed to take a break before driving herself insane; followed by her braiding her hair to get it out of her face.
She already had driven herself insane -- but not over her homework. 
(His mouth on her shoulder was the answer to a prayer she never dared to murmur aloud.)
Luke never failed to be present when he was needed. If she was sick or stressed or depressed, he knew when to fuse to her side and when to offer some space. Through careful observation rather than conversation, he knew which of her many sweatshirts were reserved for illness or emotional support. 
In most of those situations, she needed him, too. Her fingernails would curl into his biceps through a cramp or wave of tears and he would wrap her in his embrace and swarm her with warm words that dried her eyes.
She hated it.
When they wrote music, it felt as though they were already reading each other's minds before either of them had spoken a word about their plans. Their journals contained inky black waterfalls spilled from an intimacy that Julie did not want to dissect. 
Again, she hated it. She loved it more than anything and hated that she loved it all -- because it could never be real. 
She would always play second fiddle to death. 
Julie made the promise to herself to not let Luke complete her because, while she had him for now, the night of the Orpheum was a reminder that the universe would not hesitate to snap it’s fingers and eliminate him from existence. 
The universe, being the confusing, stubborn bitch it is, just didn’t get the memo on that promise. 
Because Luke filled every crack and restored every gap in her being, and he shouldn’t.
The hopeless, pining romantic in her that constantly argued with her realist side said they were meant to meet. Even if it was brief and heartbreaking and had the power to hurt her in a way she didn’t understand, it had to happen. If it wasn’t supposed to happen, then how and why did he cross space and time only to fall at her feet?
(Soulmates, a taunting voice whispered. Soulmates.)
((The voice was locked in a closet as punishment.))
She didn’t want to entertain the word. It had too much of a forlorn, wistfully romantic sound to it that Julie didn’t need to associate with Luke when she spent most moments with him at this point convincing herself that she wasn’t in love.
Until tonight.
It is past midnight, which is when anyone’s mental state starts to alter. Things that would be labelled as bad ideas in the daylight could very possibly become fair game when shrouded in a darkness that made everything private. The two of them, Luke and Julie, Julie and Luke, are nestled together on the piano bench as her fingers tiredly press each cut of ivory in a working melody.
“I have an idea,” Luke says, gently shifting his left hand to cover hers on the keys. “Why don’t we press pause on this song for a minute?”
Then, she finally looks up at him. Her eyes probably have crescents like the dark side of the moon crossing her skin, and her hair is all over the place, but he’s staring at her in one of the rare ways that she hates.
She hates it because the look convinces her that she completes him.
This time, however, there’s a hope. A hope, and a hesitance, and she’s simultaneously extremely nervous and beyond curious as to what his plans are. 
“Did- Didn’t you want to finish this tonight?” 
Regret strikes across his face, but he recovers. The softness is back. “Yeah, I just think we need a change of pace.” Right hand on the back of his neck: A telltale sign of a confession of some kind. She’s seen it more times than is healthy. “There was another song I wanted to show you, actually.”
“Oh.” She blinks, he waits. “Yeah, uh, I mean, yeah. Show me. What do you have so far?” He clears his throat as he thrums through the pages to find his target. “The whole thing.”
Julie doesn’t have time to react -- although she’s already in a panic -- before the leather-bound book is being awkwardly shoved into her hands, and the first thing she sees at the top is Luke’s nearly illegible scribble of Dark Room (song for Julie).
“Luke-”
“Just read it.” His voice is significantly raspier than it was a minute ago. “Please.”
She can’t. If he feels the same way and the confession is undeniably in front of her, then what is she supposed to do? Would she rather break Luke’s heart now to save them both down the line, or delay the misery a little longer?
It’s not that she doesn’t want it -- she does. But she doesn’t know if she’s emotionally equipped for any of the options that are offered to her. The destination of any path she chooses leads to a world of heartache.
So, she does the only thing she can think in the moment: She reads the song.
Instantly, the lyrics are blurred from the tears in her eyes because she sees the words “love” and “together” and her greatest fears and grandest wishes are coming true. The sonnet proclaims that she’s his light that illuminated his once-dark forever, and that he was hers when they didn’t even know each other, and that he will be hers wherever he ends up next.
He just wanted her to know that he would have waited another lifetime in the blank, limitless limbo he was in for 25 years if he knew she would be there when he was set free.
And, in the moment, Julie allows herself to acknowledge that her promise is broken.
She’s fallen in love. 
And, apparently, he has too.
(Maybe they can claim just one night. The universe owes them that much, doesn’t it?)
“Julie?” God, he sounds so worried. A shaking finger trails up her jaw to catch falling tears, and his contact makes her gasp. He pulls away and shoves his hands together to fidget in his lap. “Julie, are you- Fuck, I’m sorry, I just fucked this up, didn’t I? I fucked it all up. Fuck, I-”
When she chances a look up at him for the first time in the couple of minutes that she’s been staring, hopelessly, at the song in her lap -- he’s got his face covered by his hands pressing roughly into his eyes, and he’s turned to face the piano instead of her.
He takes a deep breath, and it sounds… 
Stuffy. 
Three more tears leak from Julie’s eyes. More build up every minute as her right hand runs along his shoulder, “Luke…”
“No, Julie, please just drop it.”
“Luke.”
“I clearly misread a lot of stuff, and I’m tired, so maybe you can just go to bed and forget-”
Her hand wraps tightly around his upper arm like it’s done so many times when she has been in distress. “Luke.”
There’s a crack in her voice from sheer desperation. She needs him to look at her, so that she can wipe his tears and smile through the sobs and tell him he didn’t misread a single thing. She would wait a lifetime for him to come out of the dark room, she loves him too, and she’s going to forget all about it. 
And ask him to do the same.
At least the scratch of his name catches his attention long enough, because he angles back towards her, and swallows thickly before meeting her eyes. Salty teardrops linger against his eyelids and eyelashes; the red rimming illuminating the oceanic green to look like a gemstone. Her grip relaxes.
“Yeah, Julie?”
She attempts a smile. “The song is beautiful, Luke. I love it.”
I love you.
“That’s it? It’s beautiful, and you love it, but you don’t… I’m not in your dreambox, huh?”
He clearly hasn’t dug through it in awhile. He’s everywhere. Discarded guitar picks and notes he’s left in her school journals and plenty, plenty of songs.
It’s funny, because she told him her dreambox was for things that didn’t make her sad. Luke was a double-edged sword -- making her happy every day in a new way, and making her cry into her pillow at night.
How does she explain this? There’s a whirlwind of responses running through her brain and she can barely coherently comprehend any of them. 
“No,” she finds herself sighing as she raises her hand to his cheek, followed by her other hand so that he can’t try and turn away. “No, Luke, no… You’re wrong.”
“What do you mean ‘I’m wrong?’”
Her bottom lip starts to shake. “You think I don’t love you back.”  Both of them feel their breath catch at her use of the word out loud. It feels like a secret that shouldn’t be repeated. “And you’re wrong.”
“... I’m wrong.”
“Of course you’re wrong! You really think I don’t love you back?”
“Why are you crying if you love me?”
“Because we can’t do this!”
He scoffs, and Julie’s heart is racing in her chest as he pushes himself off of the piano bench and her hands fall from his face. What has she done?
“That’s bull, Julie.” His fingertips tug at his hair. “You don’t need to make a big dramatic show to convince me it’s wrong just to let me down easy. You aren’t going to talk me out of this.” Dead-on, he stops pacing back and forth, and looks her in the eye. “I love you.”
Listening to him say it, the way his mouth moves and his voice ticks with conviction at each syllable, is what makes her break. 
“And I love you too.” 
He reels back. He probably wasn’t expecting her voice to raise from their odd, in-between whisper and normal volume.
“But don’t you get it? Luke, we aren't in some magical place where we can meet each other in the middle. A place like that doesn’t exist. You’re dead, and I’m alive, and any future here ends with both of us losing each other.” 
“Julie-”
“You said you would wait another lifetime, right?” Using his own lyrics against him. She watches his hands twitch before nodding; the movements of his head barely visible. “Then wait. Another lifetime, another two -- the fucking universe clearly didn’t want us to have this one, so we’re stuck waiting for the next one.”
Even through his clear and fighting need to argue, to talk with her about this, he stiffly nods his head. It’s obvious that she has thought way too much about this from the way she’s barely choking out each word before crumbling into tears before his eyes -- but then again, he’s thought about it too. 
Callused hands are running along her neck to tilt her face up out of the blue. She was too busy crying to notice that he had crossed the distance between them to stand right in front of her and assure that she was meeting his eyes.
“Luke-”
“No, Julie, it’s my turn. Please.”
She won’t argue with him. So, with a tender swipe of his thumbs under her eyes, he proceeds.
“Look, I get it. You think I don’t get it? I fucking hate being dead, for so many reasons, Julie. But if I never died, I never would have met you.” Her lips part, and maybe he thinks she’s going to protest because he smoothly lifts a finger in front of her lips that barely makes contact. 
(Julie almost presses her lips into it.)
“And you’re right. I wish there was somewhere that we could meet in the middle, but we don’t have that. I wish so many things, Julie. But none of them involve a life where I don’t have you.”
She whimpers, because listening to the man that normally chains his emotions in a cage bare his soul to her at nearly one in the morning is a seriously more out-of-body experience than she expected. She knew, deep down, that she loved him. But she never allowed herself to feel the all-encompassing warmth that she feels now.
“But hey, Julie, look at me,” he coaxes her with a tone that drips with affection. The pads of his fingers are nearly kneading into the back of her neck. “Like you said: The universe didn’t want to give us this lifetime. They couldn’t let us have all the fun, right?” Both of them let out a watery chuckle. “But they still brought me to you, didn’t they? They let me know you in this lifetime, even if we couldn’t have forever. I said I would be yours wherever I am. So even if this,” he gestures to his ghostly form, “isn’t forever, even if we don’t have this lifetime… You know I’ll love you forever, right?”
It was a monologue straight from one of her dreams that left her waking up with a manic smile and tears running down her face. 
Unable to form any other response besides an unaware nod, Julie waits for him to continue.
“And maybe, the universe will give us the next lifetime, or a whole new universe, or… Just somewhere where we can get forever.” 
Abruptly, his hands slide from her neck and grasp her hands like he needs to hold on firmly enough to believe that she’s still real in front of him. Julie is still speechless and teary, and in the most sentimental gesture, Luke kisses the back of both of her hands. 
“We’ll get forever, Julie.” His warm breath puffs against her skin. “I promise you.”
And, well, if he promises forever in the next life -- then why can’t she take what she can get in this one?
--
tags: @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @lydias--stiles @moreflowersthanweeds @pink-flame 
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wicked-mind · 3 years
Text
Remember Me: Chapter Seven
Summary: Y/N and Bucky were the unlikely match when it came to love, but they were inseparable since they met. After a fight, Y/N left to be a trauma surgeon in the military and returns without her memories. How will Bucky remind Y/N how she is the fire in his bones?
Word Count: 4.4k
Warnings: Swearing (I like swearing. Adds character and sounds pretty to me lol), mentions of surgical procedures, car crash, miscarriage, John Walker, slight bit of PTSD.
Series Masterlist
All Writings Masterlist
As always, any likes, reblog, or comments are appreciated (:
*gifs not mine
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Previously
Y/N removed her eyes from his face, listening to the story. Her forehead creased a moment as she thought about all that was said before meeting his gaze once again. A small smile curved on her lips and she leaned towards him, kissing his lips softly before pulling away slightly to look at him, “I forgive you, Bucky."
Bucky felt relief flood through him at her words, smiling down to her. He couldn’t find any words to say to her so instead he returned his arms around her body and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. Those were words Bucky had waited to hear for so long and for a while he didn’t know if he would ever hear them from Y/N. Everything seemed right in the world for now, and even though he was worried about what was written in those journals John had given her due to what Steve had said, he hoped that whatever else it was would be forgiven also.
Truth was, Y/N always had forgiven Bucky for what was said the moment she left. She knew it was from his own fears. But what had broken her heart was hidden in the pages of those journals.
Chapter seven - The truth in the writing
Y/N wasn’t supposed to be back to work until noon, but she got called in early due to an apartment fire that would lead to multiple traumas coming in meaning it was all hands on deck. Bucky watched her pack the yellow folder John had given to her last night into her backpack before taking her to the hospital. He came back to Steve’s to find him and Peggy having some coffee. Bucky grabbed himself a mug of the dark liquid before leaning against the counter, “She took the journals with her.” He said over to Steve.
Peggy narrowed her eyes as they flickered between the two, “What journals?”
Steve sighed, sitting at the dining table next to Peggy, “Y/N’s friend, that blonde guy named John, brought some of her journals that were left behind at her base camp. Says there’s everything in there.” He informed.
“Yeah, including something we don’t know about.” Bucky grumbled out, “Something that made our break-up worse than just the words that were said.” He would be lying if he said he wasn’t worried. He replayed that night so many times in his head that every moment was burned into his brain and he couldn’t think of anything other than what was said before she left, “We gotta figure this out. So I can at least try to make it better after she reads whatever is in there.”
Peggy set her glass mug on the table, “Okay, then let’s walk through it.” She said helpfully, “Y/N came here that night after her shift and showed us the deployment papers with the date for her to leave set in a month, June 7th. She was so excited to tell you that she left immediately after. What happened at your house, James?”
Bucky sighs, setting his mug down on the counter to run a hand through his dark hair, “She came in all excited and jumped into my arms. Everything was fine and then she showed me the papers. We argued about it because I didn’t want her to go. I told her if she walked out those doors I wouldn’t be here waiting for her and not to come back. And then she left.” He flinched at his own words. He hated that he had said that to Y/N.
Steve leans back in his chair, “Then she came back here in tears and frantic. We tried to get her to talk to us about what happened but she just packed her bags, got in her car, and left.” He sighs, “I called her everyday for about four days until she finally picked up and told me she was fine, just needed some space, and she would be back soon. After that, I didn’t hear from her until she was deployed.”
Bucky cocks his head to the side at Steve, narrowing his eyes, “You never told me that.”
Steve scoffs slightly, “Yeah, well, you made my sister run away, we weren’t exactly on the best speaking terms, Buck.”
“So we have no idea where she was or what she was doing for a month before she was deployed?” Peggy interrupted, watching Bucky and Steve shake their heads to say no. She bit her bottom lip for a moment, “Maybe something happened in that month.”
Bucky looked over from Peggy to Steve, “What did she say while she was deployed?” He asks curiously, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter.
Steve looked from Peggy to Bucky, picking up his mug and bringing it to his lips for a drink before setting it back down, “Y/N called me when she got to the base, told me she made it safe and she was sorry she didn’t come back before she left, that she couldn’t come back. I asked her what happened between you two and she told me what was said. I told her you didn’t mean it and to at least give you a call.” He watched Bucky’s features soften for a moment, “There were a few more phone calls. She told me what you said hurt, but that she was okay and there was another reason she couldn’t come home or talk to you. We didn’t really talk about you two after that.”
Bucky groaned slightly. What had happened? The more he thought about it the more the timeline didn’t make sense. Everything had been fine between them the days, even weeks leading up to when she ran away were fine. He sighs looking back to Steve, “I don’t know, man.” He said, “Everything was great. We made cookies together, went on rides, had a Star Wars marathon. Everything was perfect… So perfect in fact I bought a damn engagement ring.”
Steve looked at Bucky with almost fully wide eyes before looking at Peggy who was sipping her coffee avoiding eye contact, “You knew about this, Peggy?”
Peggy put her coffee down, pursing her lips a little before speaking, “Of course I knew! Who do you think had to help him pick out the damn thing?”
Steve nodded and turned his attention back to Bucky, “Wow.” He said still nodding, “Well, now I really wish things would’ve gone differently. She would’ve been so excited.” He said with a small smile towards Bucky. Steve had always trusted Bucky with Y/N. The way he treated her was like a queen.
Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile for a moment at Steve’s approval before it faded back into a stern line. He was going to ask Steve for help with the proposal when Bucky eventually figured out how to ask, but hadn’t gotten around to it before it all went to shit, “So nobody knows what the reason is…”
Steve nodded slowly, “Well… none of us know. But there is one person who does.”
Bucky groaned a little again and rubs his hand along his face, “God, I really hate John Walker.”
Y/N dealt with the wave of incoming traumas from the apartment building fire, running point on sorting patients by the degree of their injuries to create a steady flow in the operating room and emergency room. Once everything had died down, Y/N sat in the attending’s lounge eating a sandwich and starting to go through yellow folder from her backpack. There were photos of Y/N with Bucky and some of her with Steve and Peggy as well of her with John. There were also photos of her while she was deployed mostly doing silly poses in the middle of nowhere. She placed the photos back into the folder and pulled out the two notebooks next. They were leather-bound full sized journals. She opened the first one that looked just a bit more well used, figuring it was the first one. Her brow furrowed when she turned to the first page. It was dated at the top, May 15, 2019 but the rest of the page looked like the words had been gone over with permanent marker. Y/N turned to the next page and the next but for about ten pages over the next ten days from May 15th, all the words had been scribbled over with permanent marker, “Well, that’s just great.” She mutters out to herself softly, “Thanks me. Super helpful.”
Y/N finally found a page with actual words instead of just a page of black marker, the date read May 25th, 2019. It was filled with the words repeating ‘I am not my trauma.’ over and over again until the last line that read:
I’ll forget the piece that was taken away from me.
She frowned a little. What trauma did this refer to? What had happened? She turns the page quickly to read the next page.
May 26th, 2019
I leave in eleven days.
I want more than anything to call him. I don’t know what I would say. How do I explain what happened. Where do I begin?
He told me if I leave to never come back. That he won’t be waiting for me.
A part of me knows that’s a lie. I know he’d be there with open arms if he knew what happened.
I found that ring after all…
Y/N had to read the line over again a few times. Ring? There was a ring?
But how would he feel if he knew how ruined I was?
His sun swallowed into a dark pit.
He loves me. And I don’t think I’m me anymore.
Nobody wants broken things.
May 28th, 2019
I want to feel safe again.
They say writing down what I feel is going to ground me to reality. They also said I should call somebody. I can’t do that. I can’t let them know how much I hurt. I just want to run as far away as possible and that’s what I’ll do. I need to get out of here. It feels like I can’t breathe and everywhere I look I’m met with eyes filled with pity. It makes everything worse the way they look at me and stare. I get released tomorrow, I’m signing out AMA. Then it’s just nine more days. Maybe it’ll replace my trauma with a different trauma. Anything would be better than this.
I miss Bucky. I miss running my fingers through his hair and the way his stubble would brush against my skin. I miss being in his arms the most. They were so safe like nothing could ever hurt me. I wish I would’ve stayed then none of this would’ve happened. We could’ve just fought about it then go to bed and sort it out until I left. At least then I would’ve felt save and would’ve been safe.
I think the worst part about our fight was that I knew about the ring. I found it in his boxer drawer when putting away his laundry. You’d figure he would’ve picked a better hiding spot, but nope. He’s never been good at hiding things from me. I was halfway expecting him to propose when I showed him my deployment papers so we both had something to look forward to when I came back. I would’ve said yes in a heartbeat if he did. After all, James Buchanan Barnes is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. But that’s not what happened. And here I am stuck in pain and guilt.
Y/N shut the book when she heard someone come in, wiping away some tears she hadn’t noticed falling from her cheeks. She looks over and put on her best smile for Chief Miller, “Afternoon, Chief.”
Miller had his hands tucked in his pockets, “Everything okay, Y/N?” He asks gently, nothing the tear brimmed eyes.
Y/N nodded, keeping the same smile on her face, “Yeah, everything’s good. A friend brought me some journals to see if they’ll help me remember. It’s just confusing and a lot to read.” She said softly, “Were you looking for me?”
Miller nodded at her words, “I’m sorry, that must be hard.” He said with a reassuring smile, “I was just getting all your medical records transferred over and one was locked from a hospital in Queens. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to unlock it so we have that information on file in case it’s needed in the future.”
Y/N tilted her head at him, her brow pulling together in confusion, “I don’t remember what the nature of that visit would be… Did it have a date? I can call the doctor from the hospital to get it unlocked if I know the date.”
“May 14th, 2019.” Miller replied, “The doctors name I think was Wanda Maximoff.”
Y/N nodded slowly at the date. It was the day before her journal started with the scribbled out pages. She pushed the journal into her backpack, “Thanks, Chief. I’ll give them a call.” She said with a small smile before standing and leaving the room. She found an empty office with a computer, googling the hospital in Queens and asking for Dr. Maximoff.
“This is Dr. Maximoff.” A woman with an accent said over the phone when Y/N was connected.
“Hi, this is Dr. Rogers from Brooklyn Mercy. I was calling about a locked file in my health records.”
“Oh, Y/N! How have you been? Are you back from deployment?”
“Been better… And yes, I am. I was calling because a medical report of mine from May 14, 2019 is sealed and I don’t remember the nature of the visit. I lost a lot of my memories due to an incident overseas and I’m trying to put pieces together.”
“I see.. I’m so sorry to hear that. Our hospital isn’t too far from Brooklyn Mercy, I think we should talk about this in person given the situation. I’ll drive down and meet you in about forty-five minutes, would that work?”
“That’d be perfect, thank you Dr. Maximoff.” Y/N said before enhancing goodbyes and hanging up. It felt like her heart was going to beat out of her chest with how fast it was racing and she felt sick to her stomach as she tried to remember what happened. Whatever happened, it was bad enough that Dr. Maximoff was coming to tell her in person.
Y/N asked Chief Miller if he would be there when she went over the information with Maximoff, wanting some sort of support in case whatever happened was really bad. She kept adjusting herself in the chair in front of Chief Miller, nervous for whatever information was about to come out. She put on a small smile when Dr. Maximoff came into the office holding a medical file, shaking her hand and watching her take a seat in the chair next to her, “Nice to meet you again, Dr. Maximoff.”
“Oh call me Wanda. And again, I’m very sorry about your memory loss. I want to start by saying that we have support groups I can recommend after we talk about this information. Given that you don’t remember, it is possible you’ll go through all the emotions and grief again.” Wanda said before placing the file on Chief Miller’s desk and opening it slowly, “The night of May 14th, 2019 paramedics responded to an accident involving two vehicles. You were in one of them. It was determined the other driver was driving under the influence and had a large amount of alcohol in his system.”
Y/N nodded slowly, watching Wanda instead of looking at the file. Her eyes were full of kindness, even maybe a little pity, “What happened to the drunk driver?”
“He died in surgery. With the amount of alcohol in his system, the bleeding couldn’t be controlled and the damage was too severe.” Wanda said before continuing, “It was later determined that he was going forty miles per hour over the speed limit and from your statement, he was driving down the wrong side of the road with his headlights off. You didn’t see him coming until it was too late.”
“How bad was it?” Y/N asks softly, picking at her fingers nervously as she listened.
Wanda sighs, flipping through pages of the file on Chief Miller’s desk, “You sustained abdominal bleeding, two fractured ribs, and superficial lacerations that our head of plastic surgery took care of which is why there is no scarring. You made me promise not to call your emergency contacts.” Wanda paused, observing Y/N’s reaction but she was just sitting there nodding, “We took blood samples to cross match your blood so we couldn’t have to keep giving you O-negative blood. Those blood tests showed trace amounts of the hCG hormone. After we took care of the abdominal bleeding, you miscarried from stress. You didn’t know you were pregnant. You asked me to seal the records of the accident and you signed yourself out against medical advice.”
Y/N took a deep ragged breath, looking down at the floor in shock. The writings in the journal were making sense. She could hear Chief Miller and Wanda asking if she was okay but they sounded distant and like they were underwater. Flashes started coming back in her mind of that night. She was driving down the road back to her hotel she was staying at, crying and listening to sad songs on the radio when the crash happened. Y/N put her hand on her chest as her breathing became more erratic, it was like she couldn’t get enough air. She could see Wanda and Miller trying to ask if she was okay and calm her down but their voices were so different and everything around her was swaying. She remembered sitting in a hospital bed and crying over the news and the guilt she felt for leaving the safety of Bucky, “Can’t breathe…” She whispers out, trying to stand slowly from the chair. Y/N remembered the day after it happened, Wanda brought the journals to her hoping it would help to write what she was feeling since she wouldn’t contact anybody. She remembered the grief she felt as well as the shock and pain. This was the reason she didn’t come back to Bucky and avoided him, she didn’t know what to tell him. The world was swaying like she was on a boat and it felt like she was underwater, unable to get air in her lungs or hear the muffled sounds coming from Chief Miller and Wanda. She stumbled around at the room spinning, blinking rapidly before the world around her started fading to black and she fell onto the floor.
——
Steve, Peggy, and Bucky were still all trying to figure out events that lead up to Y/N running away a month before her deployment, trying to think of any clues that would help put the puzzle pieces together.
Steve’s phone starting ringing and he excused himself from the conversation to take the call, “Hello?”
“Hi, this is Doctor Miller, Chief of Surgery over at Brooklyn Mercy. Is this Steve Rogers, Y/N’s brother?”
“This is Steve. Is everything alright?” “Yes, everything is alright. I’m just giving you a call to ask you to come in. Your sister had a pretty serious panic attack and lost consciousness. I think it would be good if you came in.”
“What? Yeah, I’m on my way.” Steve said, walking back into the kitchen, “We have to go, Y/N’s been admitted to the hospital for a panic attack.”
Bucky frowns, “Probably read those damn journals.” He growled out, turning immediately and walking out the front door to his motorcycle and speeding down the road towards the hospital with Peggy and Steve right behind him in their car.
When they arrived at the hospital, Chief Miller was waiting for them at the front doors. He lead them up to the room Y/N was in where she was talking to Wanda with the door closed and crying, pulling an oxygen mask up to her mouth every so often. Bucky looked through the window to the room before noticing that none other than John Walker was standing a little bit away from the room leaning against the wall with a frown. Bucky immediately felt rage consume him, stomping over to John and pushing him against the wall, “What were in those journals?!” He yelled before landing a punch to John’s cheek.
John winced at the hit and pushed Bucky away from him, “She knew about the ring, asshole! She thought you were going to propose that night but instead you broke up with her!”
Chief Miller and Steve quickly pulled the two apart, Miller holding John back while Steve held Bucky back, “That’s not what it was about! Now knock if off before I call security.” Chief Miller said, moving to stand between the men, “Due to her privacy, I can’t tell you what it was but it wasn’t about a ring.”
“She knew about the ring?” Bucky said, wide eyed as he processed the words. No wonder she had been so mad at him and what he had said. She thought she was coming home to a potential proposal and instead he told her if she left to never come back.
Peggy had separated herself from all the testosterone and walked into the room Y/N was in, shutting the door behind her, “I’m Peggy, her sister-in-law.” She told Wanda before she took a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed, gently taking her head, “Are you okay, honey?”
Y/N shook her head rapidly, keeping the oxygen mask pressed to her mouth and nose as she cried into it. She remembered the pain when Wanda had told her she miscarried and feeling alone due to the fight she had with Bucky. It was the reason she had ran- she didn’t feel like she had a home to go back to and she wouldn’t know what Bucky would think if she told him she had lost their child. All Bucky had wanted was to grow up and have a family with her and she ruined that. Her gaze set on Bucky through the window and she pulled the blanket on her legs up over her head, sobbing loudly underneath the blanket. How could she even look at him knowing what she knew now?
Wanda got up to close the blinds in the window before returning the chair placed next to the bed, “Y/N,” Wanda asks gently, reaching out a hand to rest reassuringly on Y/N’s leg over the blanket, “You’ve dealt with this pain alone for a long time and you’re going through it again like it’s fresh. You should talk to someone about it, you need support.”
Y/N pulled the blanket off her head at the sound of the blinds shutting, looking at Wanda through her blurry tear filled eyes, “I can’t…You… You tell Peggy… I can’t… I can’t.” She sobbed out, dropping the oxygen mask to her lap and putting her face in her hands.
Wanda looks over to Peggy who was eyeing her curiously, “The night of May 14th, 2019 Y/N was brought in after her car was hit by a drunk driver. We took care of all the injuries… But we found out she was about six weeks pregnant. Due to the stress of her injuries and the stress she was already under, she miscarried.”
Peggy’s jaw dropped at the news, slowly looking over to Y/N. She quickly adjusted herself on the bed to scoot closer to Y/N, pulling her into a secure hug and stroking her hair softly, “Shh… It’s okay… I’m so sorry, honey…I’m here…” She soothed gently. It all made sense of why Y/N didn’t come back before she was deployed and why she never talked to Bucky.
Eventually Wanda offered a light sedation for Y/N since she couldn’t stop crying and keep her breathing under control. Y/N drifted off to sleep from the sedative, her mind finally calming but the ache in her body didn’t fade. When she opened her eyes, it was nighttime. She looked over to the window to see Peggy and Steve talking to Wanda and Chief Miller outside of the room. Her attention was take when she felt a soft squeeze of her hand, looking over and seeing Bucky sitting in the chair staring at her with a small smile. The sight of him almost made her break again, pulling her hand out of his grasp and pulling the blanket up over her head to hide from his face.
“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky said with a small frown when she hid away from him under the blanket, “Baby, come on look at me. Talk to me.” He pleaded, trying to pull the blanket away from her face, “What happened, doll?”
Y.N eventually quit fighting the tug of war with the blanket, letting him pull it away from her face. She didn’t meet his gaze though, staring into her lap as tears started to roll down her face. She was amazed she still had any water left in her body to cry, “I can’t… You should go…”
“Fuck that, darlin. I’m not going anywhere when you’re crying.” Bucky told her, moving himself from the chair to sit by her bedside. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, leaning close and kissing her temple softly, “Talk to me, please.”
“I can’t.” Y/N replied, still not meeting his gaze as she shook her head, “I was finally feeling like everything was right in the world… Like I was back where I belonged with you… Safe.” She took in a sharp breath, releasing it slowly, “Now, it’s just all going to be ruined again. We’ll be ruined. You’ll leave.”
Bucky’s frown deepened at her words as scenarios ran through his mind of what Y/N could be talking about, studying her features intently, “No we won’t. I told you that you are the love of my life, Y/N. Nothing is going to change that.” He told her, moving his position to take her face in his hand and forcing her to look at him, “Now talk to me.”
Y/N stared at Bucky for what felt like forever, studying his face. She wondered what would reflect back to her in his eyes when she told him. Right now his eyes were pooled with concern for her but once she would tell him, they knew that concern would leave, “The night we fought… May seventh right?” She watched him nod, “On May fourteenth I was driving and I was hit by a drunk driver. I was taken to a hospital in Queens where I was treated.” She watched the concern grow in his eyes at her words, “I didn’t know I was six weeks pregnant and I lost the baby… Our baby… I would’ve came back if I knew, never left… But after I couldn’t come back to you.”
Bucky’s mouth parted slightly at the words, his eyes moving across the features of her face watching the tears leak down her face. He hadn’t even noticed his own tears starting to fall at the news. Guilt raked through his body at the words he had said that made her leave, put her in that position to get hurt. It would have never happened if he would’ve swallowed his own fear and anger at her deployment. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug, “I’m so sorry, doll.” He said through his own shaky breathes, trying to control his breathing as he cried, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I did this, it’s my fault… I’m so sorry.”
_____________________________________________________________Taglist: @vicmc624 @buckypops @shawnie--jo @ahahafudge @intothesoul @austynparksandpizza @stcrryslibrary
Shout out to @shawnie--jo for having a big brain and guessing correct (:
If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, send me a quick message, comment, or ask. Thank you for the support (:
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vminity21 · 4 years
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+1 | kth
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Pairing: HighschoolCrush!Taehyung X StillProcessingIt!Reader
Word Count: 4.3k
Genre: angst/fluff/smut
Warning(s): slight language use, angst (if you read b/w the lines), pretty much smutty kissing, hand groping, mention of alcohol, breast worship, nipple play; Rated: 18+
Summary: When a crush you had in high school unexpectedly returns to your life six years later, this is the experience you have with him when you collected the courage to invite him over to hangout.
Credit to: @suhdays​ for the amazing cover!
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Inspiration comes in the form of little expectancy especially when life seems to throw a curveball you never dreamed would be a potential possibility; but, here you are, tapping upon the keyboard of your five-year-old laptop decorated in stickers of celebs you've admired over the years mingled with relevant quotes that have bustled yet again- inspiration that motivates you day by day to continue to be the human being that you are. Inspiration though can appear in lyrical melodies broadcasted globally for millions to pine over; or, published in numerous pages creating imaginary worlds where ones can escape to; or, sketched in a meticulous design to build whatever idea had been desired to come to life; or, filmed in scenes of an edited story by talented persons determined to enter the spotlight in any way they can; or, painted along a canvas in colors of calculated detail bringing forth the picture of accomplishment. Inspiration derives from a mere moment- one that sparks the instinct to gather the materials needed to pour out your heart in ways that may bring a sense of peace.
For you, it used to be in the lines of a song penciled into a crinkled notebook from your backpack hidden away for no one to discover; it used to be countless childhood journals where you expressed your inward battles in order to find enough solace to sleep at night. You've lost your touch over the years because life changes in the blink of an eye, as you grow older, and work can distract from the time taken to focus on yourself; thankfully graduating college to gain the degree you now behold landed you a job, one you hope lasts for many years, and you are currently living in a two-bedroom apartment with your best friend, Monica, who's presently slumbering as you brush some loose strands of hair from your vision.
Your dog is curled at the end of your bed as you write, which is something that you haven't done in what feels like forever, but the reasoning behind this sporadic urge ignited when the familiar pair of brown eyes from six years prior, re-entered your world without your preparation and his presence from a recent night shared seems to echo in every space of your brain to where you've finally had enough. It's about time to reach out, the devil on your shoulder whispers, but the angel sitting on the opposite begs to differ. Shaking your head, you pause momentarily, cracking your knuckles before resting your forehead on the desk, exhaling slowly while the memory of his touch seems to haunt your skin.
He was someone you once admired in high school- roaming the hallways where girls giggled giddily each time he'd pass by; star of the basketball team, rising popularity to the point everyone knew his name, collecting homework answers from budding friendships, and it all began once he started his junior year at a new school- the school where you attended. But the difference that set him apart from the typical cliché's of the prevalent students you never seemed to relate to, was that he talked to absolutely everybody and anybody- no judgment on what group the person took part in, his kindness won the hearts of many other than the evident attraction of his physical features. He didn't care who you were or what you were into, he would be your friend, and that, considering he was viewed on a higher level, made him even more special.
Despite never admitting it then, you had a crush on him. He was more of an acquaintance, but you enjoyed his company when he came around, and when a past friend, who is now married with a few kids, used to have a crush on the same person, your heart sank, because with every guy thinking she was hot, you felt as though you would never stand a chance. Especially not with this guy who made your hands jittery and the beat in your chest skip- the guy who is none other than Kim Taehyung.
Taehyung would frequent the chorus room at times when you and your past friend would practice music pieces and he always was fond of your singing voice- something he praised you for often, while his attention was received from his talent regarding sports. Something he was so good at that it was spread that he may have gained quite the scholarship for college if he decided to go. There were memories of bravery where you seized the day just to steal a conversation and a hug; at one time, scribbling the words 'hot af' with an arrow pointing where he signed your friend, Min Yoongi's, yearbook; Yoongi playing it off as though he had no idea who the culprit was when Taehyung asked who wrote it. Utter surprise can't even fathom when you along with Taehyung were voted 'Most Likely to be Famous' by your graduating class when senior year was conquered. The inside joke was for you to hold the basketball while he placed his hands upon the keys of a piano, the picture you still couldn't process happened, but always remained grateful for.
Six years flew by and the conversation never necessarily held, but there were the rare messages from social media where he'd reach out hoping all had been well with you. Interestingly enough, a cover you posted harmonizing with a fellow singer happened to be his absolute favorite, one of the few Instagram posts he'd commented on, and one of the few singing videos he continuously would listen to repeatedly without your knowledge until a few weeks ago when he revealed that to you. A cover that is now near to be a four-year-old video that he still finds uplifting when he hears you and the way your voice blended so well with the other female. Your mind is reeling because after all this time, and even now, there are remains of the aftershock, trying to forget the feel of him, when there's no way you can, not with everything so fresh on your mind. So fresh on your heart.
It all occurred when Yoongi, who kept in touch with you occasionally after graduation brought you up to Taehyung who happened to think of you earlier when listening to his favorite cover of yours, and he agreed he'd like to hang out. He asked if his friend, Hoseok could join you, Monica, and Yoongi which of course you said yes to learn how sweet you found it, that he had traveled within the span of a day after visiting his grandparents, because he is a man of his word, planned to come see you even though the drive was five hours out of his way. The night was filled with so much laughter mixed with serious conversations to the point the card game that was supposed to be played was never finished, and it sprung the desire of wanting to see Taehyung again, and you couldn't come to terms with never knowing so after some encouragement from Monnie and Yoongi, you messaged T to hang out a few days later, but never opened his reply until you were safely home from work.
Taehyung: Gotcha! Hmmm, I haven't decided on what I intend on doing. Either being with family or hanging out with friends. If I don't hang out with family, you could be my plus 1 or bring whomever or vice versa
[Y/N]: Sorry I just got home from work! I'll definitely be your plus 1 if hanging with family doesn't work out! Sounds like a plan!
He asked if you wanted anything from the store when it was confirmed he was on his way which you responded with your typical answer of no, and with music playing from your Bluetooth speaker, you were highly humiliated when you lost track of four minutes of time, opening a message from him to see that he had been there, at your door. Heart racing you rushed to unlock it, head spinning when you saw he leaned against the stair railing with a plastic bag of two Arbor Mist wine bottles dangling from his hand, him promising everything was fine despite your profuse apologies- him slipping his phone in his back pocket while he followed you into your home.
Monnie happened to be staying the night with her family, so it would be just the two of you tonight, besides your dog who bounced at his legs while he reached down to pet her fluffy head. Taking in the sight of him, now that was something you found hard to believe. Just a simple pair of jeans, a gray t-shirt with a black jacket complementing the dark tendrils of hair spread across his forehead leading to the carefully sculpted lining of his jaw nearly brought you to your knees, but you held it together long enough to settle across from him at your dining room table. He had taken off his shoes at the door remembering upon a few days prior, and he set out the wine while you jumped to retrieve wine glasses (Yoongi happened to purchase for you) while banter still related to greetings.
One thing that truly intrigued you when first seeing Taehyung after six years were words, he had said that touched your heart more than you'd like to profess. "That's why I try to enjoy every moment with people because you never know what day will be your last," and you knew right then, that if there was anyone you wanted to share a moment with, it was him, and there he was, right before you, smiling about something you said while the sound of the fruity liquid-filled each glass.
"I really truly do not understand what you are so afraid of. What do you even have to lose?" Monnie tinkered with the lens to her camera while she sauntered through the living room. Exasperated from anxiety, you sucked in your lips before teasingly throwing her the side-eye.
"My dignity,"
"Oh c'mon," she paused, lifting a brow. You had been talking nonstop on how bad you wanted to invite Taehyung over, but fear of rejection including the fear of humiliation seemed to overwhelm you, although deep down you knew your best friend in the entire world was correct. You did not nor do you have anything to lose.
"Well!" You squawked, raising your palms dramatically in the air before slapping them to the sides of your thighs, "Why the hell would Kim Taehyung ever want to hang out with me anyway? Do you not see how farfetched this all is?"
"Bold of you to assume that my life isn't already farfetched enough as it is-"
"Not! The point!"
Monnie sighed, and when she saw the way your shoulders slumped in disappointment that shouldn't have been an issue, to begin with, she stepped closer, placing her hand on your shoulder, "First off, you are overthinking this, and you shouldn't. Besides, I think after hanging out as a group, he only sees you as a friend, meaning no expectations. So, go into it with that mindset okay? I'm sure he'd love to hang out with you. Secondly," she smiled, her serene expression filled with promises she always kept, "You've waited six years for this. I think you should ask him to hang out."
"You really think so?" Your grin reached your hopeful eyes, and the feeling in your chest seemed to react more positively despite your earlier turmoil.
"Yeah. The dude owes us a chair anyways,"
"Ah!" You cackled, back pressed against the dining room table as you remembered literally a few days ago when Taehyung accidentally broke a spindle of the chair in half with his foot when Yoongi scared him just by suddenly walking down the hallway. "I don't think I've ever seen a man so embarrassed."
"I'm not saying to hold it over his head, but," Monnie held up her index finger, "I think that gives him enough reason to come back," she giggled, setting her camera on the dining room table before waltzing into the kitchen.
You shrugged, "At least we can still sit on it."
"Look at it, it's staring at me," Taehyung pointed swiftly at where the vacant spindle would have been, your laughter reverberated throughout the space.
"T, really, you do not owe us new chairs. I promise, it's fine," you reassured him, realizing your cheeks were sore from how much you'd been smiling since he entered your 'realm of refuge' as you liked to describe your apartment. He snapped a picture of it, probably with the intention of getting a new chair for you and Monica regardless, and you found that appreciative although you would be happy if he didn't.
Shit. You pause from the computer screen, leaning back into your chair before folding your arms tight across your chest. Eyeballing the cursor, your vision narrows as it blinks, waiting for you to add more words to the memory that seems to spin in a cycle with the subtle goal of not stopping. Or, so you figure. If recalling every little detail isn't already hard enough, reliving the reminiscence of his fingers twirling in your hair, his sweet laugh when he looked at you, or the way he held you so tight-
But, everything in between, leading up to those mesmerizing flashes are just as important to you as what it led to. Maybe it was the conversation- the three hours of conversation before the move to the sofa which it was hard to fully focus on what else was being said because how could you properly concentrate when the one person, you'd been so worried about spending time with was seriously conversing with you like the pair of you had been friends your whole lives?
Miraculously, you were able to gather the stories of past vacations that resulted in mild disappointment revolving around the complaints of people surrounding him, or the goal of visiting as many places as possible leading Taehyung to scribble down a list of where he'd been to reveal you both have equally been to the same amount of places. Of course, the thrill of going on a mini adventure with him brought an excitement you haven't felt in a while; even the story of why he was transferred to your high school years ago due to a misunderstanding, and when the pair of you made your way to the couch, he nestled into one corner while you gladly took the other, wishing you could snuggle closer but fear prevented you from doing so.
It seemed as though that he didn't want to watch the movie anyhow, because he talked to you as though he never wanted to stop, and eventually it led to you asking one too many times if he was okay with spending the rest of the night with you. "It's up to you, I'll stay if you want me too," he promised, the way your heart fluttered when you replied, "Yes, can you please stay? I don't want you to go."
"Alright, alright! I'll stay," he smiled widely, both of his large hands reaching out, and there was not one ounce of hesitation from you- your hands grasped his before your dog jumped to beg for attention, trying to lick at his face causing your hands to undo. Laughter was contagious with Taehyung, and still cuddled into the corner of the couch, you were so elated that he was going to stay, you reached to hug him, his arms wrapping around you, the feel of your bodies aligning putting the biggest smile on your face. It was crazy how everything was seeming to fall into place- the stars aligning as though it was all magic; and, you couldn't get past how right everything felt. How right he felt. Pulling away, his smile never left him, "Are you shy?" His arm remained draped around your shoulders, and timidly you peer at his surprised gape, his black hair almost covered his crescent eyes.
"I mean... Yeah, I can be," you murmured, reaching to hug him again, but something washed over you this time, a thought that had crossed your mind repeatedly that you just couldn't take it anymore. The side of his face was blurred, placing your palm upon his cheek, and without even a moment of doubt, you kissed him. A sudden decision, but one of the best ones you could have made.
His lips were so soft, the way his mouth just seemed to mold with yours for only a few mere seconds, and the shock on his face when you pulled away, paired with the realization that his hands were held in the air, you hadn't expected his reaction. Shit! You cursed inwardly, immediately jumping back to persistently make sure he was okay; even when he moved to cuddle with you, him claiming everything was fine, but that he couldn't believe you kissed him being the both of you never once saw this coming especially six years ago during the high school days. His hand was fidgety as he swiftly rubbed your shoulder, your head buried on his chest while your mind spun in a continuous loop of how you could not believe that you kissed Taehyung. The Kim Taehyung.
He became quiet- too quiet, concern etched in your expression, maneuvering yourself back to the opposite corner of the couch, so you could face him. "T, are you sure you're okay? Did I freak you out?"
"No, no, I just can't believe you kissed me," he was in awe, eyes dazed as he ran his slim fingers through his hair, "Like, really I never saw this coming,"
"I mean, have you looked in the mirror?" You teased, knowing damn well he'd been aware of you finding him attractive, and he shook his head in dismissal of your compliment as he chuckled; it took you a whole sixty seconds to realize you were holding his hand, fingers linked, and him asking if you were nervous due to your clammy palm, though you tried to swear up and down you were not, the next round of words he said nearly brought you to tears when he finally spoke.
"You shouldn't sell yourself short," he looked you in the eyes without any faltering, although you tilted your head in mild confusion as to why he was saying this, to begin with, "I don't think you realize how much of an impact you've made on others, especially guys," ah, he was letting you down easy, and you knew it, but you're too stunned to speak as you listened, "I don't think you give yourself enough credit either. You're a great singer, you're pretty much a musician, you love animals, you have a job, you live on your own. Really, you shouldn't sell yourself short-"
"T," you breathed, pleading almost, but trying not to make it obvious, but he never broke eye contact, "We don't have to date or anything, I just- I just wanted a moment with you." You mentioned what inspired you to spend time with him- exposing how a few nights ago when he said he wanted to enjoy every moment with people- you knew you wanted to have a moment with him, too. Memories from high school were spoken momentarily, thirty minutes passing by which included a made-up handshake as well as the subtle twirl of his fingers in your hair- him complimenting how good your hair looked which made you blush even more.
Just when you thought he wasn't already smooth enough, you noticed Taehyung started teasing your dog, her pouncing at his chest before he'd lean in closer to you. Eyebrows scrunching, it took you a hot second to realize what he was doing. Each time Taehyung would scoot closer to you, he'd kiss you, sending the pair of you in boisterous laughter when your dog would try to break the kisses by jumping in between your faces. The more your lips would touch, it'd last a bit longer and longer, your hand clinging to the side of his jacket to pull him closer when things really started moving fast, eventually your dog left the room with the hint that attention was no longer available for her.
Still lip-locked, Taheyung's hands gripped your hips while you willingly moved to straddle him, arms resting on the top of the couch on either side of his head, the tip of your tongue glided along his, while he fanned his hands along your ass. You refrained from moaning into his kiss despite how bad you wanted to, yet you held yourself together, involuntarily grinding your clothed heat where his erection was felt. T smacked your ass before slithering the tips of his fingers to your shirt, slowly unbuttoning one by one.... One by one. His eyes were hazed from how much he was craving your mouth, and with a seductive nod in his direction, he continued until he made it to the final goal, your kisses never planning to stop, the sides of your shirt being brushed away for him to take in the sight of you.
"Ooh my God," his eyes darkened in evident lust when he saw the way your black bra cupped your breasts, "Oh my God," his voice deepened, him hardly knowing what to do with himself while your smirk remained subtlety on your mouth. Though you hadn't needed him to ask, he politely waited for your permission to touch your chest, a quick pang of frilly nerves ghosted your stomach.
"Yeah," you breathed seductively, gradually moving to capture his lips, trying to hold back a giggle when he gently moved his hands to your back, "You're not going to find it there," you mused, referring to the clip. He paused as if panicked, "It's in the front," you finally admitted, but failing miserably, Taehyung let you take initiative, you unclipped your bra uncovering what is now widening his brown eyes. "Oh my God!" His reaction made you want to cum right then and there, especially when his fingers made their way to squeeze your nipples when his mouth returned to yours. Taehyung worshiped your breasts, and for some odd, yet arousing reason, you lived for it.
You're uncertain of when the tv was switched off, and even now, as your hands continue to fly across the keyboard, one thing you do recall, one of the lingering memories of the evening was your shirt being off, thrown onto the floor mingled with your bra, and without any warning, Taehyung hoisted you in the air, your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso while he tightened his hold around your body. His steps were painfully careful, kissing you roughly while your arms kept their place behind his neck, and the direction was being taken to your bedroom where your heart pounded so anxiously to be. His jacket was shed before the bold act, and all that was left was his gray t-shirt and jeans. Laying you down with a bounce from your mattress, he remained above you, and your eyes refused to stray especially when he reached to remove his shirt- his smooth skin greeting yours sending waves of goosebumps spreading among your limbs.
There was no one like him in your eyes, and there never would be. Not in your heart. And with how perfect everything was going; you were not prepared for how hard it was going to be to stop before things went too far. Because what if he doesn't exactly feel the same? He was letting you down easy not even an hour ago, and here you were, hopes so high, you weren't sure how you were going to erase them back down. He kissed you until you couldn't breathe, your fingers dug into your comforter, while his palms glided all over your frame for however long you let him, but when he went to remove your leggings, you halted him.
Now, this is where your heart aches when you relive this part, because a conversation was held, one where you mentioned what if someone catches feelings if the both of you decided to solely be just friends with benefits? Taehyung said all you had to do was communicate with him because he was easy to get along with, and you've known this about him for six years. He was always someone easy to talk to, and you knew he would never treat you poorly over a situation like this. And, he hadn't. You made the executive decision to not sleep with him for you wanted him to remember you as the woman you are, and the woman, you've always been, and with the fear of going all the way being something that could change his image of you, you were satisfied to hear the loud echoes of his snoring after you changed into pajamas, gazing at his sleeping demeanor before you drifted into slumber as well.
When the morning came, you were not ready for him to leave, but he asked if you would walk him out, him throwing on his shirt and jacket while you rushed to brush your teeth. T asked if you had any other plans for the rest of the day which you proceeded to answer honestly with a no, as he mentioned that he was going to get breakfast.
"Let me know when you make it home," you said tenderly, "I want to know you're safe,"
"I will," he promised before you embraced him, turning just enough to place a peck to his cheek. It was his smile that decided to enter your recollection- the boxy smile that would plague you until the day you accept that you will never forget it.
And when you opened the door to the apartment where he gracefully waltzed through, you merely caught a glimpse of him leaving, ahead of you quietly shutting the door to whatever could have been.
Or, what could have started a beautiful story that has yet to unfold.
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free-pancakes · 3 years
Text
Don’t Worry, I’m Here
So I ended up writing a part 2 to this
And crossposted both chapters to AO3
sorry for all the recent angst, i blame the recent chapter lol
Summary: Alternate epilogue-like ending if SNK chapter 138 didn’t occur
(italicized portions reference chapter 1!)
Chapter 2
“It’s your turn,” Erwin said with a warm smile. “I’m thinking they all need you right now.”
“Maaaaan, this is a lot of work isn’t it? Why did he ask me to watch over everyone! I thought I’d finally get to take a goddamn break when I got here…”
“Stop joking around, Hange, we all know you’re happy to do it,” Mike said. “And at least he can’t smell you when you cross over—can’t believe you alone could stink up the whole afterlife,” he teased.
Hange playfully shoved Mike into Erwin as they burst into laughter. She smiled big at the both of them. “See you morons later!” she yelled back.
“Hange-san, don’t forget to check on Connie and Niccolo for me! Let me know how good Connie’s pranks have gotten, and if Niccolo has gotten any better at tolerating him,” Sasha added.
“Of course, dear,” Hange said with a smile. She waved back at the three as she opened the door to go see everyone back home.
— She breathed in the cool, summer morning air and walked down a cobblestone path in town, smelling the decadent aroma of bread lingering over the bakery just ahead. She peered through the window, seeing Connie poking holes through bread dough, making something that looked like a little mask for himself, squishing it onto his face. Niccolo turned around the corner holding a box of pastries and threw them straight into the air, croissants showering down from the ceilings. “Connie, stop startling me like this!” he whined as he looked at all the pastries now all over the place, a massacre of flaky crumbs on the floor. The sound of Connie’s laugh was music to Hange’s ears. She took another whiff of the sweet smell and laughed as she watched Connie sadly pick up the croissants while Niccolo lectured him—“They’re doing well, Sasha,” she whispered to herself.
As she continued on her stroll, she saw Onyankopon walking alongisde Pieck. After hurrying over to walk alongside the two, she waved hello at both of them—sometimes she forgot they couldn’t see her whenever she came to visit.
“That’s so sweet, Onyankopon,” Pieck said as he flipped through a small book in his hand. “Oh, it wasn’t just me—without Armin I would have never gotten this all to work out.” Hange’s eyes glimmered with happy tears—she was so proud of her successor. She wanted to see him, but unfortunately it would probably have to wait for her next trip down here.
“I’m sure Hange-san would have loved it, no way we couldn’t publish all her hard work on titan research. Something that generations can learn about—real truth in books for them to read, to understand why they all dedicated their hearts,” he said, balling his other hand into a fist, gently tapping his chest with it, right over his own heart. Hange placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
“And what do you have there?” he asked Pieck with a curious look in his eye. “Oh, just another record for Levi,” she said as she ran her hand over the smooth case. "I think he’d like this album.” Hange whispered a small thank you right by Pieck’s ear, happy that she continued to help Levi, and that their little record player was being put to good use.
Onyankopon patted Pieck on the back. “Well, please send the Captain my regards, and let him know that Hange’s texts should be published soon!” Pieck gave him a little smile and waved as she walked towards the forest path. Hange was about to follow her to see the little grump, but she stopped herself, sad to wait a little longer to see him. “Not yet, a few more I have to check on first,” she said to herself as she turned left, heading in the opposite direction from Pieck.
A familiar, warm voice echoed behind her, “Hi Pieck!”
Hange spun around to see Jean and Mikasa walking up from the forest path passing right by Pieck. "Just the people she was looking for!" Hange exclaimed, and smiled warmly watching her favorite little pair walk hand-in-hand.
“Date night I’m assuming?” Pieck asked. Jean blushed, scratched the back of his head, and responded with a nervous chuckle. Mikasa smiled back at him and left a little kiss on his cheek. “Yes we are, Pieck,” she said with a shy smile. “Are you visiting the Captain?”
“Yes, heading that way now. Are the kids with Levi?” Pieck asked excitedly.
“Absolutely, and Historia’s son as well!” Jean said.
Hange couldn’t help but feel overcome with emotion watching the scene. She was so happy to see them all happy, alive, and well. As the group parted ways, Hange followed Jean and Mikasa up a winding path, snaking up the green grassy hills just beyond the edge of the town.
“A graveyard?” Hange asked aloud, both hands instinctively gripping at both sides of her head. “That’s your date night?? Jean, what are you doing?? This is not what I taught you!” She tried grabbing at his shirt to turn them right around. “This isn’t even an Ackerman-related issue, this is just common sense, you idiot!” She ran around them in a frenzy, so distracted that she didn’t even realize who they were actually trying to visit.
“Thanks, Jean. Sorry to ask you for the detour. I know our reservations are—“
Jean quietly pushed a small bouquet of sunflowers into her hands, and stared into her eyes, his expression telling her that he wanted to be here too. Mikasa gave him a quick peck on the cheek and she placed the flowers down onto the grass as they sat down together, knees bent and elbows resting on them. He wrapped his arm around Mikasa as they stared at the headstone, Hange’s name etched neatly into the rock.
“These were her favorite, yknow?”
“I know.”
The wind whistled by their ears, leaving cool kisses on the tops of their heads, bringing them a moment of sweet relief from the heat as the sun began to rise higher into the sky.
“Sometimes, I feel like she never left,” Jean whispered.
Hange sat behind the two of them, arms encasing them in her embrace, and kissed the tops of their heads. She smiled at Jean’s words—“I never did,” she said softly into their ears. She tried to wipe the tears from Mikasa’s eyes with her sleeve. “So don’t be sad.”
Time was almost up, so Hange hurried her way down the path, and stole one last glance at the two. She smiled when she saw Jean lay his head on Mikasa’s shoulder. She couldn’t wait to do the same with the other Ackerman on her mind.
She stared at the little cabin, pangs of heartache clawing at her chest—her one and only regret. But the pain melted away as she heard the sound of children’s laughter escaping through the open window. She walked in to find a little boy and a little girl stumbling around, toddlers still getting used to their legs, their little minds still figuring out how fast they could go before falling over. Her heart melted as she watched the two.
She wondered where Levi was, but he didn’t keep her waiting—he never did. He walked through the doorway of the kitchen into the room where the two kids were running around, holding two mugs of tea. He then walked out onto the front porch and set one of the teas down next to him, steam rising from the cup, drawing Hange towards it with its familiar aroma. Just the way she liked it.
She turned to Levi, looking him up and down, drinking in every bit of his appearance, from every wrinkle in his white, button-up shirt to every strand of hair on his head. She laughed as she counted a few grey hairs peeking through the deep sea of black, and gently ran her hand through this hair. He looked rested, a rare sight for her to see, and nothing could make her happier. She left kisses on his cheek and wrapped her arms around him—she never wanted to let go.
Sunlight wrapped around Levi’s body like a hug, the cool breeze softly ruffled his hair and left cool kisses on his face—sweet relief in the summer heat. “Thanks, Hange,” he thought. He pressed his fingers up to his face, feeling the soft, smooth fabric of her eye patch covering his right eye and smiled.
“You’re welcome, shorty,” she whispered as she held onto him tightly.
As he went back inside, she followed him and sat down right next to him as he pulled out his little journal.
“My notes?”
She stared at Levi, his eyes filled with happiness as he read over every inside joke she scribbled into the margins—she was a little embarrassed about him reading all of that, but overall happy nonetheless.
The two toddlers suddenly jumped up onto his lap breaking him out of his trance. “Uncle Levi, can you please tell us a story??” they chimed together, staring at him with cute little puppy-dog eyes. He nodded.
“Yay!!!” They yelled in unison. They both sat on either side of him on the couch and stared up at him with eager eyes.
Hange sat right next to the three of them, ready to hear Levi’s story—she wondered what he’d come up with. She was ready to laugh at the inevitable constipated look on his face as he tried to conjure up a story for them.
“Once upon a time there were two best friends. They were the strongest heroes everyone knew. They climbed giant walls and looked at the vast lands in front of them from the top of it, knowing it’d all be theirs once they defeated the big, bad titans!”
Hange chuckled at the kids’ excitement.
“They jumped on their necks and cast a spell and they’d disappear!”
“Good call, Levi, I was scared you’d start saying we slashed them up or something,” she said with a small laugh.
They did this for many years until all of them were finally gone. The two best friends were happy and searched for more land to see and explore until they found the big blue ocean. Water that was salty and laid home to many creatures both friendly and dangerous. Now there were more bad guys on the other side of the ocean but they were a little different than titans, and they looked like you and me so it was much harder to defeat them. So the two best friends tried to find a way to win. They went on adventures together trying to figure out their secrets until they almost died trying to do that.”
Levi hesitated.
Hange’s eyes softened at seeing him like this, so she wrapped her arm around him, laying her head on his shoulder.
“And one day one of the best friends asked the other if they wanted to live in the forest together, and leave their younger, smart and powerful comrades to defeat the bad guys.”
He paused once more, and took a deep breath.
“It’s okay, Levi, keep going—the kids are waiting,” she whispered.
“And the other best friend said yes. Their comrades won the battle and the two best friends lived happily ever after in the forest. The end.”
He looked down at the two children, who nuzzled their heads into his lap and were now fast asleep. Jean’s kid snored loudly and drooled over his pants, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. “Oh Hange, I wish you could be here too...” Levi said aloud. He felt tears well up behind his eyes but he blinked them away.
“Don’t worry, Levi. I’m here.” Hange tried to wipe away his tears with her sleeve before she began to wipe her own.
His mind went to the last page of his book of Hange’s notes:
“I hope Levi could live a long life and be happy for the rest of his days. Nothing brings me more joy than seeing him experience happiness behind his dumb scowl. And Levi if you come across this someday, remember that I love you and goddammit try to smile or something in front of someone other than me!”
Levi of course memorized these words, and repeated them in his head as he ran his fingers softly through the children’s hair as they slept.
She drank in the bittersweet moment—watching him smile through his pain. He was trying so hard for her, and it made her heart ache. She hoped that he was genuinely trying to find happiness through all of this. But she knew it was nothing he couldn’t handle. She was always watching him, after all.
Hange felt a pull at her shoulders—time was just about up for today. She peppered his face with kisses, hoping that he might feel them.
A gentle breeze blew through the open window, leaving sweet, cool kisses on his face. He swore he could hear her voice, whispering “Love you, Shorty,” in his ear.
“Love you, Shorty,” Hange whispered as she stood up to leave. She visited him every week, but it was still difficult for her to leave each time.
“Stupid four-eyes,” he thought. He breathed in memories of her and promised he’d try to live the rest of his days happily and smiling just as she wished for him.
“Til next time, Levi,” she said softly, as she closed the window behind her.
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sunset-curve-fantom · 4 years
Text
Wake Up- Alive!Luke x Reader
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A/N; I WROTE THIS FOR ME, IT IS ABOUT MY STRUGGLE AFTER LOSING MY GRANDMOTHER. I HOPE YOU ENJOY, AND MAYBE IT WILL HELP SOMEONE.
WARNINGS: TALK ABOUT DEATH, AND DEMENTIA
You had been in a funk for over a year, you had just lost your grandmother and she was the light of your life. She spent every waking hour making sure you were taken care of, and that you had somewhere to stay and someone to love you. Your grandmother had been like a parent to you, from the moment your parents separated, she was there when they couldn’t be, and you were so grateful.
She gave you a purpose in life, and when she got sick, and I mean really sick it was hard to watch. Her dementia came on hard, and it made her forget the most important people in her life, including you. You were a light in her life and suddenly that light had disappeared over night, as her memory faded so did her body. She was deteriorating at a rate that was unbearable to watch….
The last cognitive conversation you had with her was about you boyfriend, Luke. He was the light at the end of the tunnel as you faced the unthinkable. You knew how much she loved him, and he loved her, she had become a surrogate for some of the love he was lacking at home. She wanted you to be happy and stay in love. She wanted Luke to be your endgame, and before you could make your future a reality… She was gone, like a ship in the night. It was quick but that never made it any easier to face.
The moment she left you earth side, the music stopped. You couldn’t combine a single lyric or a melody. You were sure it would come back to you one day, but as much as you and Luke tried; you just fell into a puddle of tears every time. It was like the music left the moment she did, and that was an unbearable feeling, not only for you but for Luke.
Luke Patterson was the most selfless person you had ever met, he wanted nothing more than to restore a sense of happiness into your world, but he didn’t know how. He would have given up music if it meant bringing you happiness. But your happiness left this earth, and he couldn’t bring her back no matter how much he tried and prayed.
Here you were a year later, still in a rut with your music but tried to be supportive of Luke and his dreams. You were watching the guys and Julie mess around with certain lyrics and tunes as you were scribbling in your journal.
You didn’t dare tell Luke and the guys that same amounts of lyrics began to appear in your mind, which is what you were scribbling down.
“Hey Lover, how does this sound” Luke said, drawing your attention away from your possible lyrics. They were adjusting the entrance to Bright and were just trying to include you.
You listened carefully to the beginning, “Maybe Julie should start off slow with the piano before you guys jump in at the chorus?”
You looked up from your spot on the couch, and everyone’s eyes were on you, it was the first musical thing you had mentioned in a year. It flowed out of you like it never left in the first place.
“What?” beginning to feel uncomfortable with everyone’s attention on you.
“You-you-you you just suggested something musical for the first time in a year, and it is something that we didn’t even think of. I-I- I guess we are all just a bit shocked” Reggie said, clearly unsure of what to say at your comments, you just shrugged your shoulders.
“It’s nothing, just an idea” You said, returning to your journal in front of you. It really wasn’t a big deal; they asked your opinion, and you gave it to them.
Julie told the guys to take a break before settling in the chair next to the couch, “You okay? You seem to be writing up a storm there”
You looked up at her, trying to decide whether or not to tell her the truth. You quickly looked around to make sure the boys had left, well mostly Luke.
“If you tell Luke, I will kill you… I have- uh startedwritingmusicagain” you said quickly, Julie just looked at you with this look of “can you repeat that”
Sucking in a deep breath, you said it slower. “I may have started writing music again, but you cannot tell Luke. I am not ready to share this with anyone”
Julie looked like she was going to faint from the breath she was holding, “Wait really?? This is a good thing, why not tell Luke? He would love to have his writing partner back”
All you could do was roll your eyes at her, “Because I love Luke, and I don’t want to hurt him if I can’t get back into it. I sing and I think of her, every day. That is never going to change, and I just don’t want to start something again, and then stop because it got too hard.” It was the most truthful answer you had given in some time.
She just looked at you, before releasing a deep breath, “Honestly… when my mom died, I didn’t think I would ever be able to enter this garage again, let alone play music. But you and Luke, plus tweedle dee and tweedle dum, made that possible for me. I have never felt more alive, and more confident in myself until recently. That is something the both of you brought to me, so I know it seems hard now. But in the end, it is so worth every bit of pain you are feeling. She would want you to be happy, and to flourish, and most of all, to be truthful with Luke.”
You could feel the tears springing into your eyes, Julie was right. She wouldn’t want you to be suffering, she would want you doing something that makes you happy. Something that reminds you of all the goodness in this world, no matter how painful the reality is.
You grabbed Julie’s hand, “Thank you, I think I finally remembered why I started my music in the first place. Do you mind keeping the boys distracted for a bit…? I want to write”
A huge smile erupted on her face before she headed out of the garage, she was going to give you the space you needed. You were going to find your center again, and music was something that kept you grounded. Your grandmother gave you the greatest gift, and it was time you found your way back to that.
Carefully picking up your journal, you made your way over to the grand piano. Gently you ran your fingers over the keys, it had been a year, but it was like a close memory to you. You carefully began playing scales on the piano, smiling as you did so. This was the magic you wanted back, you needed it back for you and for Luke.
Swiftly you opened the journal, holding the lyrics to the one song that meant so much. It had been a year of depression, sadness, and now you were finally back on track. You were on the one thing that made you the happiest, which was your music.
You began to play the opening notes, scanning the page of your journal before singing the part that stuck with you the most,
So get up, get out, relight that spark
You know the rest by heart
Wake up, wake up if it's all you do
Look out, look inside of you
It's not what you lost
It's what you'll gain raising your voice in the rain
Wake up your dream and make it true
Look out, look inside of you
It's not what you lost
Relight that spark, time to come out of the dark
Wake up, wake up
Your fingers bounced along the keys, as you sang for the first time in a year. Hot tears were running down your flustered cheeks. This was exactly what you needed; this was your way to communicate with her. As you finished the last notes, a ray of sunshine highlighted the keys in front of you.
It was like her way of knowing you were okay, you just barely whispered under your breath, “Hi Grammy… I miss you”
You looked up from the keys as the sunshine disappeared and there was Luke, he was absolutely stunned. Julie had sent him out here for his songbook but instead he found his girlfriend singing, for the first time in so long. It was like Luke forgot how talented you were.
“Hi baby, how long have you been here?” You questioned, shutting your journal. He said nothing as he made his way around the piano. He picked you up from your seat, wrapping your legs around his waist as you clung to him tightly.
“You played baby, you really played” He whispered into your hair as he held you close to him. He was afraid if he let you go; you would disappear from in front of him.
“I had to, I had to play for her. I can’t walk around in this darkness anymore” You said softly, pressing a kiss to his temple. You could feel his hot tears falling onto your shirt, you had never realized how much he was hurting. All you knew was how much he wanted to take care of you and protect you from everything in the world.
“Luke, I am back… my music is back. There is nothing to wake up from anymore, I did everything I could to make her proud. I know it took a year, but I am back baby.” You said again, trying to ingrain it in his head. This was a reality, no longer a dream.
He just held you tighter, he didn’t want to let you go.
“AWWWWW THAT IS SO CUTE” Reggie squealed from over your shoulder, you just heard a smack before Alex told him to shut up.
You looked up to the group at the doors of the garage, pressing a kiss onto Luke’s nose. You jumped down from his hold, “So who is ready to work on Bright?”
You made your way over to the piano again, playing the beginning notes. Your love for music was back, and it was all thanks to your grandmother who never doubted you.
TAGLIST:
@parkeret​ @calamitykaty​ @gia-kerks​ @kcd15​ @all-in-fangirl​ @notasofti​
@julies-molina​ @morganayennefertyrell​ @crybabyddl​
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Text
Just had a dream that Hobo Johnson came to my school to perform a couple of his songs and in this dream when he got up on an auditorium stage and my immediate thought was "I need to take this to Tumblr because OH MY GOD HOBO JOHNSON HERE??? PLEASSSEEE"
And I'm like "I'm gonna tell people he went to my school. But Ion wanna give up my location! So I'm gonna ask if he's doing any other shows and ask whether or not all these locations are public information, that way if people did get snoopy about where I live there'd be a bit of a broader list of places to skepticize"
So at some point after the show– The last song he played was 3% but I don't really remember what else he played–, I approach Hobo Johnson asking about the shows and all that, and he kinda just snatches the person sitting next to me's laptop to be like "Yeah, info's online somewhere, lemme pull it up." For some reason, we end up sitting at a balcony, and the laptop do be gone. We get to talking– About the pile of books I keep for some reason incessantly pulling around, about his music, about me. At some point he looks at me and he says, "Well, we're both just a couple of black sheep, huh?" And I'm like. "Well, I mean. I guess?"
We talk for a little bit more after that, and then it's time for him to leave. He reaches over and messes with my hair before he says, "You're a good kid, Shayne." And disappears... In his place is a filled-to-the-brim journal sitting on the railing of the balcony, left open. I didn't really notice until after I grabbed it– Because some weird narrator voice sounding like LIS Max Caulfield's inner thoughts pointed it out for me(this is important for later)– but there were a bunch of pink pressed flowers scattered on the railing around it.
I don't flip through or anything, but on the pages it's left open on there is a bunch of scribbled writing, and then a big purple heart and a big red heart– Both were made of sequins. For some reason, I assumed that this book was like a journal, and that it outlined his music and what it meant and like the process in writing it. So yeah now I have it in my hands with a bunch of my other books, and I can't remember if they were under it or just sitting nearby but at some point there was a pile of indiscernable black-and-white photographs and for some reason I chose to grab them.
And then comes the walk home. I don't remember this part as vividly as the others, but I think the world became a shadow realm and I think I was haunted. I would randomly find more photographs– One had a censor bar over somebody's eyes, except when I picked it up said censor bar stretched out past the photo and just like extended half a foot out on its own. I was terrified. Other strange occurences were I would sometimes set my pile of books down, look away, and when I looked back they were laid flat. One time this happened and there were NEW PHOTOGRAPHS on tops of the books. I was shaking in my boots.
I don't really remember what happened between then and the next part, but suddenly I'm met with a "GAME OVER" screen and now I realize I was just. Playing a video game? So I go back to my latest save point, which takes me to when I first got Hobo Johnson's weird scrapbook thing. Except this time I kinda just sit there, not really knowing whether I wanna grab it this time.
So, I pause the game and I go to an even earlier save point, and suddenly I'm PLAYING LIFE IS STRANGE??? Except this isn't a scene from the game itself.
I'm playing as LIS Max Caulfield in third person and it's night time and she's running beside all these bleak concrete buildings. She looks back and SHE'S BEING CHASED BY LIS TRUE COLORS ALEX CHEN???? Who by the way keeps making evil faces and says evil things and being a villain I guess.
So I have LIS Max Caulfield keep running, until she gets to supposely the building she was trying to get to. She rounds the corner and she slips on these I guess slippery round rocks and she's now on the ground, but she's safe?? The door to the building opens and inside is LIS Chloe Price and then the camera pans over because this is now a cut scene! So anyway the camera pans over to LIS Max Caulfield and suddenly she's holding this huge bag of rice. Huge.
So LIS Chloe Price helps her stand up and then pulls her inside the building and I'm back to the first person pov. They talk a bit, and then I wake up.
That was prolly the most vivid dream I've had yet,,,, Also the boldest. Like,,,, Hobo Johnson, Life Is Strange, LIS True Colors horror-centric cross-over? Crazy. I am never going to forget how Hobo Johnson looked when he called us black sheep. Also always going to remember how he called me a good kid. Literally I look up to this guy so much already lol.
Anyway what was this whole thing supposed to mean
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mouse-fantoms · 3 years
Text
Study Session Sabotage
Read on Ao3!
A jealous Luke sabotaging a Julie and Nick study session
It was clear to both of them after the whole cradling each other’s faces, there was definitely something more there.
Sure, Luke played off the “oozing chemistry” comment from Reggie, and tried to prove that he has chemistry with everyone (i.e. passionately serenading Reggie with Edge of Great). His friends already knew though. Of course there was also Julie’s “Perfect Harmony”. She imagined dancing with a ghost for pete’s sake. Then the, “This is an interesting little relationship you and I have.” It was only a matter of time before they talked about it.
The conversation went as normal as a conversation between a lifer and a ghost could be. They had a mature conversation about the topic. They both acknowledged their feelings for each other as well as also realizing how interesting of a relationship they have is (the whole having a crush on someone who you theoretically, can’t be a thing with, forbidden romance so to speak). At least now they got it out of the way and not too much changed between them. If anything, it helped make their songwriting sessions together stronger. Which was why Luke was confused over how Julie had been acting during this session.
“Okay, something is obviously on your mind.” He finally stated after awhile into it.
They were sat on the couch together, his journal open on the coffee table in front of him, scribbles of whatever lyrics came to them.
“Hm?” He caught her attention.
“That’s what I mean! You’re usually in the zone when we write together.”
“In the zone?”
“Yeah. You get this shine in your eye, your smile becomes brighter than thousands of stars as lyrics come to your-” he realized he was starting to go on one of his ‘I-love-Julie Molina’ speeches as Alex and Reggie had called them. “What’s on your mind?”
She sat up from the couch and went on the other side of the coffee table to distance herself from him.
“It’s just...” she was fidgeting with her fingers.
“You can tell me you know.” He stood up from the couch to face.
“Nick asked me to help him study.”
She expected an answer from him but continued when she didn’t get one, “And I said yes.”
“That’s it?”
A confused expression came on her face. “You’re not-”
“What?” He smiled. “You think just because whatever this thing going on between us is, you can’t hang out with other people?”
“Well it’s a study session.”
“He does have a crush on you.” Luke argued.
“Well you would know.”
The comment made air come out of his nose. “You want my permission to have a study session with him? Sure, of course you can.”
“...You’re sure you’re ok with it?”
“Of course. Even if it wasn’t one I’d still be cool with it.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Promise!” He put his hands up in defense. “I wish you and Nick a fun study session.”
She smiled. “Ok, now that that’s out of the way I do have this one lyric in mind.”
~~~
“So what are you guys studying?”
“Oh my god!”
Her reaction to his question came after his multiple other ones. Reggie and Luke were behind the counter as she was setting up the kitchen table for her study session. She didn’t mind the company whenever she was doing things around the house. That was unless one of them had been doing what Luke was. Luke rested his chin on his hand on the kitchen counter.
“Really?” Reggie had the same reaction as Julie.
“Can’t I be curious?” He defended.
“I thought you said you were cool with it?”
“I am but can’t I just... want to know more about the event?”
“Event?” Reggie folded his arms. “It’s a study date.”
“Not a date!” Julie repeated for what seemed like the millionth time.
“Right, if it was you probably would have worn that pink blush dress.” Luke input.
“Oh and that dress paired with black flats, that would be a look!” His friend added.
“Oh! And a nice rose gold necklace too-“
The two noticed Julie’s crossed arms, unimpressed with their conversation. “Since when did you two become fashion experts?”
“There’s only so much you can do when you’re rotating through a trash bag of clothes.” Reggie answered.
“Nick is just coming over to study.” She repeated yet again. “You’re asking more questions than my dad did.”
“When is he getting back, by the way?” The jet black haired boy wondered.
“Not until later.”
She saw a disappointed look on the bassist’s face. “Maybe you can hang with Alex when he gets back. I would say Luke but that’s if he gets done babysitting my-”
“Babysitting?” He sounded offended.
“You are hovering.”
“You are.” Julie agreed alongside Reggie.
“I’m cool with it, I promise! I can show yo-” Before he could ‘defend’ himself even more the doorbell rang.
“Behave.” She warned going over to grab the door.
When she went to get the door she heard part of a conversation between the two ghosts. It went something along the lines of Reggie offering that Luke and him could work on something in the garage. Luke politely declined saying that he needed to prove to Julie that he was cool with the study session. He proposed that Reggie could perhaps go to the studio and write a song of his own. The ghost perked up remembering that he had another ‘Home is Where my Horse is’ to add to the roster.
“Hey!” Nick greeted once she opened the door.
“Hi! Come on in!” She opened the door wider for him. “You can set your stuff down at the table.” She closed the door and gestured over to the table.
“So is it just us?” He asked, setting his backpack down against the leg of the table at the seat that was in front of the counter.
She saw Luke, who was still behind the counter with his chin propped up, raising his eyebrows as if to tell her ‘see... a date’ wanting to be told later he was right.
“Yeah,” she responded as he got his materials out of his bag and set them on the table where he would sit, “my dad and brother will be out for a bit until then it’s just us.”
“Cool. Thanks for agreeing. I know last time you said you probably wouldn’t be able to because of your band.”
Julie looked away when she sat down across from him, reaching down to get her materials from her pack. Her attention was caught when she heard the noise of the chair being suddenly pushed out. She looked up and saw Nick, barely sitting on the edge of the chair, and then Luke, who stood just behind the chair, seemingly twiddling his thumbs.
“Did you just have your floors waxed or something?” Nick asked, adjusting himself on the chair and scooting himself in.
“No…” she trailed off looking at the likely colperurate.
“I just pulled out the chair and it seemed to slip.”
“Mhm… slip…” she was still glaring at the one she suspected.
“Well,” he reached into his bag and pulled out his textbook, flipping through the pages until he got to the right one, “I guess we could start.” He bent down back into his pack to get his pencil case, until there was a loud clap.
Both Nick and Julie’s heads went to the textbook that both knew was previously just open but now showed the cover.
“Didn’t I-” he looked to Julie who seemed to be staring daggers passed him, “And then it-“
“It’s probably the wind.” She seemed to say through her teeth.
“Wind?”
“The AC. You know how it is.”
He nodded, not entirely knowing how it is. He shook his head to forget the book that suddenly closed on its own. He opened the book back up and placed his pencil case on top to ensure it stayed open this time. He put his pencil on the left side of the book while he went to grab the papers that went with the work. Julie, meanwhile, was also getting her materials out in front of her.
He pulled out the papers and went to grab his pencil only to be met with the table’s surface instead. Looking, the pencil had rolled away from the textbook. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if the pencil hadn’t made it one.
The weird part, it didn’t continuously roll away. He would go to grab it. It would then roll, then stop and when he went to grab the stopped pencil it continued to roll. Seeming like it was purposefully trying to get away from his grasp.
“Maybe you should turn down that AC.”
“Hm?” She asked looking up to him to see his outstretched arm and the pencil at his fingertips.
“The wind seems to really be blowing my pencil away.”
“Does it now?” She seemed agitated.
“Either that or you have some sort of gho-“ he caught himself, “...a phantom…”
“Huh?” This was the one time Nick could tell her attention was fully on him.
“How come your band is called ‘Julie and the Phantoms’?” He put his arm back under the table, discarding the writing utensil at the of it.
“Oh…” an answer took a moment to form, “Well Flynn actually came up with it.”
“Why the phantoms?” The question didn’t really come to mind until now.
“Well… the effect of when they join me on stage looks kind of like that of a ghost.” Technically was not a lie.
The more he thought about it, the more questions came. “You’ve never been into tech kind of hologram stuff before.”
“Well…”
“And even when the hologram projector worked at the dance… you still didn’t perform with them and the WiFi was working completely fine for school WiFi.”
He saw her hesitate. “Maybe you should-” she went to the cabinets, “Would you maybe want some water or anything?”
He noticed her wanting to change the subject. “Sure…”
She nodded telling him that she understood. She got a glass and filled up his cup. He thanked her as she began to get herself a cup as well.
He would have taken a sip as soon as she put it on the table if it wasn’t for when he reached for it, the cup decided to inch north. This occurrence had happened too often in this short amount of time that a pattern was noticed. Nick looked to Julie who was busy putting water in her glass and turned his head back to his. To test his hypothesis, he again reached for it only to have it yet again move inches out of his reach. Things would only move if Julie wasn’t looking.
Maybe he could get the cup if he was quick enough. A few attempts had occurred at trying to grab it before it went out of his grasp, none were successful. Especially the last attempt, well in a way he was. He was too quickly though. As the cup moved his fingertips grazed it and made it clink on the table, spilling the liquid.
Julie looked up, hearing the clink, glaring rather annoyed just next to him.
“...Maybe I’ll just get my own water.” Nick grabbed the now empty cup and went over to the sink. He pulled on the faucet’s handle and no incident had occurred, until less than a second later when the water from the faucet began to spray all over him. As if someone had put their thumb on the spout of the faucet, making the water squirt all over.
“Nick I-” She went to try to help the completely soaked boy, but realized there wasn’t much she could do.
“Maybe we could reschedule this study session,” he tried to wring his sleeve out in the sink, “once you have this ‘AC’ under control.” He went back over to the table.
“Nick I’m sorry I-”
“Molina it’s fine.” He looked up from putting his things in his backpack to her behind the counter. “I just have the feeling this ‘AC’ is targeting me. Tell me whenever you have it worked out then we can maybe try this again. See you at school partner.” Julie watched as he put his bag on his shoulder and headed out the door.
“Well, not much studying was happening during the study date.” She turned around to see Luke stood at the sink. She crossed her arms at him. “...What?”
She shook her head at him, let out a huff of air and put her arms down as she went over by the oven to get the towel that was slung over the handle.He followed her as she took the towel to wipe up the water on the floor of the kitchen.
“What exactly were you supposed to be studying because that was not happening.” He kept noticing her annoyed look as she went over to the table to clean the water over there.
“...Maybe I could-” he tried to reach for the towel in her hand but she pulled it away from him, obviously not in the mood. Maybe later though, she would be in less of a mood.
~~~
“Are you still upset?”
He poofed into her room after she hadn’t come into the garage for a songwriting session. She was on her bed, possibly doing work for a class not paying any attention to when he poofed in.
He took a seat at the edge of her bed. “How are we supposed to do a songwriting session if you’re still giving me the silent treatment?”
“You’re right. If I continue you may douse me with water.”
“...Well not on you.”
“What happened?”
It was hard to ignore the question when she was staring right at him. “What do you-”
“You know exactly what I mean! You said you were cool with it!”
“I was!”
“Really? Because trying to pull his chair out from under him, rolling away his pencil and dowsing him with water, just to name a few, didn’t seem like you were! You were acting like a jealous boyfriend!”
He perked up. “Is that what-“ he cleared his throat, “are we-”
Based on her angrily getting up from her bed, after an eye roll, that was clearly not a conversation she wanted to have right now.
“Right, right! Not a discussion right now.” He stood up to face her across the room. “...I thought I would be cool with it.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you in the first place. I told you that it was just a study session.”
“But he asked if it was only you two.”
“He was just curious who was in the house. Or maybe he wanted to say hi to dad and Carlos since it’s been a little bit since he’s seen them.”
“Oh… well…” He started to feel slightly guilty.
“For the record, he knows how I feel about dates.”
“He does?”
“He already tried to ask me out.”
“...tried?” The more and more the conversation continued the guilty kept sinking in.
She nodded. “And I said no.”
“...well now I feel really dumb.”
She stepped closer to the bed. “Why didn’t you just trust me that there wasn’t anything other than studying?”
“It’s not that I didn’t trust you it’s just…” he looked for words to say, “...I don’t know what happened.”
She crossed her arms, not buying his statement.
“I don’t know I guess I just- I was being jealous.” He sat on the corner of her bed. “I guess some part of me wanted to be Nick.”
She sat next to him, wanting him to elaborate more.
“If I was alive that maybe we could do study sessions like that, maybe I could go to school with you and come by your locker and-”
“If you were alive,” her voice brought his attention from his hands to her beside him, “we wouldn’t have met.”
He shared her little smile.
“I’m sorry. I should have left you two alone to have your own study session. I didn’t mean to get jealous. He seems like a good guy.”
“I think you and him would get along.”
“You do?” He seemed taken aback.
“Both of you get passionate about what you like, both of you play guitar-”
“Does he now?” He raised his eyebrows at his ‘competition’.
“Oww!” He said in response to Julie jabbing her elbow in his arm. “I was kidding!”
“I don’t know, you might soak him in water again.”
“...That did cross the line.”
“For all I know he could be scared to come back again even if I got the ‘AC’ under control.”
“He definitely knows it’s not the AC.”
He saw the lightbulb in her head go off. “What?”
“You’re one hundred percent fine this time with a study session between Nick and I?”
“Yes.” He confirmed.
~~~
“Come on in.” She let open the door for Nick. “Thanks for agreeing to come back after… last time.”
He seemed cautious as she closed the door. “Yeah… no problem.”
“Don’t worry you won’t get sprayed with water this time. I had a talk with the ‘AC’.”
“The ‘AC’ doesn’t happen to be in your band… does he?” His attention was suddenly turned to the kitchen table seeing from his peripheral vision a chair move. “...Did that just-”
“He let out your chair for you this time.”
“...Well it’s already going better than last time.”
She gestured towards the table for him to sit. She followed behind as he set his bag down and sat. He looked cautiously around.
“I promise, you have nothing to be worried about.”
“Just so we’re on the same page, the phantoms in your band are most definitely ghosts?”
She nodded.
“Oh. ...Cool.”
“Cool?”
“I mean you guys already make amazing music, it's an added layer that they’re ghosts.”
“You probably have a lot of questions.”
“Right now, the one who haunted me is cool with me now?”
“I have a strict no haunting rule but yes, he is fine with you.”
He suddenly had a thought. “...You can see them all the time can’t you?”
“Yeah we don’t really know why.” She noticed what he said. “...How’d you know that?”
“In the hall, when I came up to you at your locker. You fixed what you said about telling me to shut up and then punched in the shoulder too, something you never do. Just before went to practice for our dance… you said your mind wondered and you called me Luke. Luke was there wasn’t he? He’s the one who haunted me.”
“You catch on quick.”
He leaned in to whisper, “Are you two a-”
“I would prefer to have this conversation when he’s out of the room.” She directed her statement next to him.
“Oh come on!” Luke let out. “I’ll be helpful this time. I promise no water will be slipped. Let me show you that- ugh fine.” He could read her expression. “I wish you two a nice study session.”
She turned her head back to Nick, indicating that Luke probably left.
“Between you and me, his guitar skills are-”
“Probably not so bad yourself either blondie.”
“Luke!” She scolded seeing him poof in behind the counter.
“Right, right. I’m gone. Sorry!” He put his palms up and poofed out once again.
“This time,” she looked to Nick, “no more distractions. I promise.”
“Hey as long as I don’t get haunted, it’s fine. He can haunt you all he wants.”
“He can… can’t he?” She smiled to where the ghost was moments ago before her and Nick actually began their study session, free of a jealous ghost this time.
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more-pokeimagines · 3 years
Text
Stone Cold Body [08] - Chapter 7
A/N: Once again, I'm so sorry that it took me forever to finish this chapter. I hope you are still interested in the series, and I promise that the next updates won't take as long.
Warnings: none
Taglist: @piershoesz @alovestruck-fool @shaak-ti-s @spair-m [If you want to be added to/removed from the taglist let me know.]
Present
A few days had passed since your latest argument with the prince and you still had no idea why he had reacted so hostile when you had asked him about your dream and the things you had seen. You had tried to talk to him a few more times, mostly because you wanted to apologize for snapping at him but since that morning, Bede avoided you like the plague and purposely looked away whenever you tried to make eye contact with him. And although he acted like nothing had happened when Gloria and Hop were around, you had noticed the sadness in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide when he thought that nobody was paying attention to him.
You were pretty sure that it had nothing to do with the things you had said to him but still, you could feel your guilty conscience gnawing at you every time you thought about it. Given the fact that you couldn’t stand him, you really hadn’t expected to feel bad about your argument with the prince, at least not for such a long time. Maybe it was because you couldn’t stand conflicts in general, or maybe you were slowly starting to have a thing for him. At least, that surely would’ve been Gloria’s guess if you had bothered to tell her about your twisted feelings since she still firmly believed that you and Bede had to be soulmates, according to the legend that had surrounded the statue. Only a few days ago, she had suggested that you should spend more time with him and try to get to know him better. “After all, you could be meant for each other,” she had said, earning an annoyed glance from you. “You know exactly that’s not true. It’s just a stupid fairytale, nothing more.”
With a quiet sigh, you shook your head, casting aside the memories and trying to focus on the book in front of you. You were currently sitting in Wyndon’s library, an old and dignified building that was equipped with countless books, journals and even actual historical documents from various eras, such as diaries, letters and manifestos. In the beginning, you had been confident that it wouldn’t take too long to find something regarding the prince and his obscure fate but it had only taken about an hour until you started to feel overwhelmed by the amount of information the library offered.
On your desk, there was a pile of books about the history of Galar and a collection of articles about the prohibition of magic and the consequential witch-hunt, referred to as the Great Hunt, which hadn’t been very useful since they never mentioned the crown prince at all and mostly focused on King Lewin’s orders and the methods the Royal Court of Inquisition had used to track down the sorcerers and their families. Nobody had included Bede and his sister into their research, probably because they hadn’t been involved in any of this and while you hadn’t expected to find something about the curse in these essays, you couldn’t help but feel a bit discouraged.
Everything would be a whole lot easier if Bede didn’t refuse to talk to you. He obviously knew very well who the woman you had seen in your dream was but for some reason, he tried hard to keep everything about his past a secret.
Absent-mindedly chewing on the top of your pencil, you stared out of the window as you tried to gather every bit of information you currently had about the prince. The result was quite disillusioning – you knew almost nothing about him, his name, status and family relationships aside. In the exhibition, you had learned that he had been close to his sister and that his parents, particularly his father, had put enormous pressure on him but other than that, you were clueless when it came to him. You had no idea who he truly was, what he thought about the king’s hatred towards the sorcerers or why someone had hated him so much that they ended up cursing him.
Well. If he had always been this arrogant and presumptuous young man he was now, you really couldn’t hold the malediction against the unknown person who had cast it all these years ago… although a part of you had to admit that it seemed a bit harsh to trap someone in stone for so long, just for being an arrogant idiot.
No, you were absolutely sure that there had to be more to it. You just needed more information to figure out what it was.
You grabbed another history book, quickly scanning the table of contents before putting it aside because it covered the aftermath of the Great Hunt and therefore the wrong era. Same with the next two books, although the latter at least recommended some other works about the Great Hunt and the royal family’s involvement. After writing down the title, you turned your attention back to the pile of books in front of you. Surely it would be more effective to work through them first before looking for new stuff to read.
Over the next hour, you found an essay about the upbringing of Bede and Carlina which only contained information you had already gotten from the exhibition, a copy of the royal family’s genealogy that only traced back as far as Bede’s paternal grandparents and another essay that described the events of the Great Hunt without going into detail about the origin of the King’s hatred towards sorcerers and their magic. The author actually had pointed out that it was almost impossible to find reliable sources regarding King Lewin’s personal motives and therefore historians could only speculate about it, but most people assumed that he probably experienced something terrible that led to his disdain, especially since the previous king, Lewin’s father, never had an issue with the use of magic.
You had started chewing on your lower lip, like you often did when you were musing about something, while you stared at the essay and the notes you had taken. Something about the whole issue felt off, although you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was strange that no one knew exactly why the king had started to persecute the sorcerers since there was a lot of source material for considerably less important stuff, for example the average earnings of Carlina’s chambermaid or how often Queen Alviva would see the court physician because she allegedly suffered from migraines.
If you didn’t know better, you would have assumed that someone, most likely the king himself, had made sure that every bit of information which could paint him and his actions in a bad light was kept under lock and key, even after his death.
You grimaced at the book in front of you. After everything you had learned about him and the way he treated others, it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was actually true. And it probably was true, given the fact that there was not one essay that told the story from the sorcerers’ side.
It hadn’t even occurred to you that the few articles you had found about the Great Hunt had purely focused on King Lewin and the orders and actions he had taken to hunt down the sorcerers. But now it was clear as daylight that there was next to no information about his enemies and how they had reacted to the threat.
To say that it made everything even more suspicious, would be an understatement. Clearly, the king had tried to hide something but you had no idea what. And in the end, it probably didn’t even matter because it wasn’t linked to Bede and the curse, so it wouldn’t get you anywhere if you –
You started up from your musing before you could finish the thought. Your gaze flickered from your notes to the book, then back to the big question mark you had drawn behind Bede’s name, and you could feel a sudden agitation buzzing through your body.
Maybe it was indeed linked to Bede and everything he had experienced. It seemed quite a stretch and you doubted that his son’s fate was the only reason for the king to cover up the sorcerers’ actions but perhaps they had been the ones who cursed him. It made sense, also in the context of your dream, assuming that the unknown woman had been a sorceress. She had undoubtedly threatened Bede, and –
You abruptly reached for your pencil and began to scribble your thoughts down. Most of your notes probably weren’t going to make sense in the future but you needed to write your thought process down to make sure that you weren’t forgetting any details which could be important later on.
Okay, so, assuming that the woman in your dream had been the one who cursed Bede, it was likely that she had done so to take revenge on his family, or better, his father, the king. Maybe she had lost someone dear during the Great Hunt and wanted to teach Lewin a lesson about the grief she felt. Or perhaps, she simply had tried to put an end to the violence against her people and had used Bede as some kind of leverage to get her will.
You paused to think for a moment. Weren’t you reading too much into a simple dream? There was no evidence that the things you had seen were actually real; you didn’t know if you really had caught a glimpse of the past or if your mind was just trying to play tricks on you after reading a few things about Bede and his family at the exhibition. It was possible that you were well on the way to obsess about the whole situation.
No. Deep down, you knew that everything you had seen in your dream was real, although you couldn’t really say why. You simply knew it.
Or maybe you were slowly starting to go crazy.
*
He wasn’t sure why he had decided to go back to the park where it all had started. It was strange to see the place where he had been trapped in stone for nearly three centuries; the place where hundreds of people had tried to lift the spell from him, according to Gloria who had told him a few stories surrounding the statue. Surrounding him.
It wasn’t just strange. It felt preposterous to know that he had been right here for all this time while his family continued to live their lives, while the world around him changed over and over again while he remained frozen in time. Maybe it was so hard to understand because he simply couldn’t remember anything after Brigid had cursed him. Contrary to popular beliefs, Bede hadn’t been conscious; he hadn’t noticed anything that was going on around him. After Brigid had cast the spell, a dark, deep silence had embraced him – and then, there had been nothing.
Until he had stumbled right into your arms that day.
Bede was convinced that Brigid never intended her curse to have a loophole; she was way too determined to wreak revenge on his family to make a mistake like that, and yet, here he was, as fresh as a daisy and completely unharmed. Not that he was mad about it, no, he was grateful to be alive and everything but… there was something about this whole story that didn’t quite match up. And he would be lying if he said that it didn’t worry him.
With a quiet sigh, he rested his elbows on his knees, propping up his head on his hands as he continued to watch the few tourists that were wandering around the park. Nobody took notice of him but that was completely alright with him. Back in the day, he had never been able to roam freely outside the walls of the palace. He had always been accompanied by his personal guards which made it easy for everyone to recognize who he was, and while he understood that it was necessary to bring the guards, he had sometimes wished to have more freedom. Being raised as the crown prince of Galar had always been a heavy burden, especially since he could never satisfy his father’s expectations, no matter how hard he tried.
From this point of view, his life was better now. He was free to make his own decisions, he didn’t have to justify himself to his father anymore and could go wherever he wanted to go. He was no longer a prince; he was just a normal young man. He was just Bede.
On the other hand, just the mere thought seemed frightening. For all of his life, Bede had always known what others expected of him and where his place was. Making decisions had never been an option before. Heck, back then, he hadn’t even been allowed to choose the color of the fabrics the tailors used for his clothes, and now he had to decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life? Impossible.
And, all advantages of a fresh start aside, none of this changed the fact that he was alone. There was no one in this world who cared about him, and most people didn’t even know who he truly was, although they had been so obsessed with the statue over the years. And everyone he had known before was dead.
Bede hadn’t expected the thought would still hurt so much. It wasn’t the first time that it occurred to him that his parents and his beloved sister had died long ago but until now, he had never allowed himself to give in to the sadness that threatened to overwhelm him every time. But now he didn’t bother to fight back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Given the fact that you and the others weren’t here to judge him, there really was no need to hide his emotions, and before he even realized that he was crying, the tears were already streaming down his cheeks.
He turned away from the spot the statue had stood, pressing his lips together to stifle the sobs that wanted to escape his throat and clenched his fists while he tried to regain his composure. But the tears kept on flowing.
Everyone that had ever meant someone to him was dead. Carlina was dead. He would never see her again, hear her voice or laugh about the stupid jokes she had always made to cheer him up on a bad day. He couldn’t even remember the last thing he had said to her or the last time he had told her how much he loved her. Shouldn’t he be able to remember these things?
Why couldn’t he remember?
The answer was simple. Bede hadn’t known that it would be the last time and therefore, he hadn’t cherished his final moments with his sister enough. And now, all that remained was an excruciating grief that made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.
How was he supposed to live without his sister? After all, she had always been the person he had trusted the most, the one he could rely on without a doubt, and knowing that she wasn’t here with him – that she would never be here with him – hurt like nothing else. No one would ever be able to replace her, not even – particularly not – you; the one who allegedly was his soulmate if he would be willing to believe in the tales Gloria had told him. It would be a mockery if it was actually true (not that he thought that it was), given the fact that he could barely look at you without thinking back to the worst moments of his life… the moments that had changed his whole world forever.
In some way, it almost seemed to be an irony of fate that you of all people had lifted the spell from him. You who looked so much like the woman who had cursed him in the first place.
He had noticed the resemblance right away. Of course, you didn’t look exactly like Brigid but there was something about your features and the color of your eyes that reminded him of her. Even the way you looked at him resembled her, your eyes always filled with so much disdain and anger, just like hers.
At first, Bede had thought that he was imagining things, that his subconsciousness tried to come to terms with the things that had happened by projecting it into this new reality but now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. There had to be a reason behind it. After all, you had managed to break a curse that never should have been broken in the first place, incredible as it was.
He wiped the tears from his face and took a deep breath, carefully locking up his emotions again.
Maybe it was time to stop running away from his past. If he wanted to figure out what was going on, if he really wanted to understand why the spell had been lifted, there was only one person who could help him, as much as he hated to admit it. And that person was you.
Masterlist / Next part
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amintyworld · 3 years
Text
Doubts - Beginnings Part 4
WATERFALL (Part One), SUNSET (Part Two), SECRETS (Part Three)
A/N: Guess who back, back again-! Anyway, thanks to all the support in the last three parts, this series has been such a blast to write! I’ve finally decided on a name for it - Beginnings, so that’s what they’ll be titled with from now on to avoid any confusion. As always, links to the last three parts are above. I hope you enjoy! - Minty
TW: Surprise Pregnancy, anxiety/worry, blood/gore, alcohol/drinking, implied major character death, sickness, cursing. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)
--------------------------------------------
They started construction on a house around a 15-minute walk from Phil’s house, on a hill that overlooked the waterfall in the distance. They didn’t know what they were doing, but Phil did his best to help out when he could and give advice, having been in a similar situation not too long ago. Wilbur went out searching for jobs when he could and managed to get gigs every now and then as he saved up cash to get everything they needed. It was a new feeling for the couple - Wilbur’s constant worry over his girlfriend, and Sally’s determination to not let the pregnancy control her. All in all, it was a bit of a frazzle. Tommy and Tubbo were a bit off-put at the fact that they’d be uncles at such a young age - nonetheless, they tried to take it all in stride.
Phil answered a lot of questions in the following weeks from his two younger sons, who didn’t understand how it all worked. A good example could be just last week when Tubbo gave Sally ginger ale and straw, leaving Phil slightly confused until he figured out Tubbo was trying to help her out since ‘her stomach hurt’. Tommy’s confused ideas of helping were a bit more out there than his brother’s - the Carrot Incident was a pretty good example - but it was clear that their hearts were always in the right place. 
Technoblade was distanced and tried not to get too involved but helped out when he needed to - he told Phil that this was more Wilbur’s responsibility than his, which Phil couldn’t deny. The pig hybrid still hung around the couple and even eased their worries when he realized how absurd some of Wilbur’s concerns became - “You’re reading too much on those books, Wil. Just because it could happen doesn’t mean it will!” Technoblade was always available to talk and support his brother, who became a bit of a mess from it all. 
Still, they were a happy family who was nothing but excited for the baby’s arrival - they were going on five months, and things had been going smoothly… at least, mostly smoothly.
----------------------------------
Wilbur pulled up the covers on the bed as he left a tender kiss on Sally’s forehead. She smiled, yawning. “Wake me up for dinner…?”
“Of course, my salmon. You rest, I’ll make sure Tubbo and Tommy are quiet.”
Another yawn escaped the shifter’s lips. “You tell them if they wake me up they’ll be dealing with a very pissed off pregnant lady who…*yawn* won’t hesitate to kick their asses.” Wilbur giggled softly, brushing the hair out of his girlfriend’s face in a simple loving gesture.
“Get some sleep, okay?” Wilbur said. “I won’t be far.”
“I love you, Wil.”
“I love you too, Sally,” Wilbur said, turning off the lights to darken the room as he gently and softly closed the door behind him. Over time, most of his worries had eased, thankfully - but a few lingered in his mind that fizzled around his brain. Wilbur tried to push them away as he moved downstairs, resting his head against the counter for a brief moment, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he ran his hands through his hair once again. He had a gig later that night, but his body craved rest. Wilbur chose to ignore it, there wasn’t much use anyway. If he napped at this point he’d miss the job altogether, and he needed the cash. Bored, trying to distract himself, he pulled out his notepad and flipped to a fresh page as he rhythmically tapped the pencil against the paper, willing himself to focus his thoughts.
It felt strange to Wilbur to stare down at a blank page and not have anything to write. It was hard to describe how he felt, much less think of rhymes. So much was overwhelming his emotions and feelings, still, he tried to focus and scribble words across the page. Maybe if he wrote it all down, he’d feel better somehow - it always worked for him before. His notepad held all the times he was happy, all the times he was sad, upset, angry, confused… all hidden in words like a code only he could understand. It was the closest thing to a journal or diary that he owned, one of his most prized possessions.
Maybe it’ll comfort him now.
I’m struggling to breathe
Keep going
Protect her
Push forward
Wilbur looked down, his mouth turning down in distaste - this wasn’t exactly the lyrical poem that he usually formed. There was, as always, some truth in the words. It felt like he was ranting, almost. It didn’t make sense.
Everything will be okay
Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed in thought at what he wrote. He was trying to reassure himself, but… it felt wrong.
Will everything be okay?
“Uh-oh, the notepad’s out,” Phil said jokingly from the doorway as he carried in what looked to be a large basket filled with the garden’s harvest - wheat, carrots, and potatoes. He quickly noticed Wilbur’s distress, his smirk quickly disappearing. “Wil? Wil what’s wrong?”
Wilbur sighed as he read the words staring up at him over and over. “Nothing really. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”
“I see,” Phil said, not believing that for a second as he set the large basket down on the counter, methodically moving to store up the food. “You look tired.”
“I feel tired,” Wilbur said, finally closing the notepad as he let out a soft chuckle in the suffocatingly silent house. “Got a gig in an hour, though.”
“You need to sleep, Wil.” Phil scolded, his gaze stern.
Wilbur waved him off. “I’ve got a lot I need to do. It’s no problem, anyway - the club’s gonna close up in a few days, and then Jay said I might not get another job in at least a month while they restock for summer.” Phil gave him a look, hand on his hip as Wilbur held up both his hands in surrender. “I’ll get some better sleep then, I swear.”
“Good,” Phil said, his gaze softening as he turned back to the basket. “Are you heading to Melrose’s place tonight, or TBO?”
“Melrose. She needed me last minute to fill a half-hour slot, promised to pay double.” Wilbur said as he got up from the stool and stretched, heading over to grab a cup of lukewarm coffee that was left in the pot from the morning. Hey, coffee was coffee, and he needed to keep the sandman at bay - double pay was no joke, and with his earnings tonight he’d finally be able to get everything they needed for the new house and for the baby. He needed to go, and he had to do well.
“I hope she doesn’t expect to keep dragging you out last minute.”
“Hey, as long as it pays well-” Wilbur shot thoughtfully as he sipped his coffee. The two turned their attention as Technoblade entered the house, his weapons, and clothes covered in blood, a few of his kills on his shoulder. Phil grimaced. 
“Techno, I told you not to track blood in the house, go around to the back-!” The smell of rotting and decay, potent, filled the boy’s noses as they pinched them, trying to get rid of the scent. Technoblade silently turned around, going out the front door again. “You better shower and change before dinner, don’t forget!” Phil called as Techno simply waved his hand.
“Yeah, yeah…”
Wilbur quickly chugged the last of his coffee as he put the mug in the sink and quickly followed his older sibling. The night was cold as he pulled his jacket closer around him, walking around toward the back of the house. The sky was quickly turning dark as the day began to end, stars not quite appearing just yet. Techno sat over the two dead sheep he’d brought into the house earlier, the nasty musk somewhat masked by the cold wind. The pig hybrid was focused as he ran his blade along the belly of the kill, carving and cutting out sizable chunks of meat which he began to wrap in some jungle leaves for storage. Technoblade liked hunting, and no one could deny his skill, knowledge, and precision of it. He was patient and always waited for the right moment to strike, always hunted smaller game because he knew others were too big to carry back home. The prey always usually went down in one hit, and if that didn’t do the job Techno would usually hold the creature down while he made a quick jab toward the skull. He pig prided himself on his hunts, which provided the majority of their meat for meals ever since the town decided to enforce a livestock tax on the people to raise a little extra coin.
Setting the packages aside, Techno looked up to notice Wilbur staring at him silently. “Uh, hey Wil. Whaddya need?”
“Can’t I just check on my sweet older brother?” Wilbur smirked, and Techno huffed, amused.
“You can, but you and I both know you don’t.” Technoblade joked as he walked past him, heading toward the river with Wilbur close behind, grabbing a cloth and his bloodied weapons along the way. The pig hybrid took a breath as he turned to look at his brother. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing important, really,” Wilbur said. “I’ve just been worried, I guess.”
“About Sally?” Technoblade asked, kneeling down beside the river beginning to scrub his weapons clean. “Don’t tell me you’ve been reading those parenting books again, I’m telling you they’re shit-”
“I’m worried about myself.” Technoblade’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at his brother, slightly shocked at the intensity in his voice as he sat next to him by the riverbank. Wilbur took a deep breath as he tried to release the stress from his mind, looking into the clear running waters. “What if I mess up, or… or I can’t be a good father? What if I’m the one who’s not ready, you know?”
“This has all been your decision, Wilbur. Your life. I can’t tell you that everything will be sunshine and rainbows because to be completely honest Wil, I don’t know.” Technoblade said honestly, moving to place his clean sword on the grass and moving to grab his axe. “But I don’t think you should be worrying so much about the future. Live in the moment, in the now. If things go bad, you’ll know what to do Wilbur. Trust yourself.”
“But what if I-?”
“Nope. No more worrying.” Technoblade said, cutting off his brother. “Just focus on right now, and as cheesy as it is, have a bit of hope.”
“When did you get so philosophical?”
“I’m wise beyond my minutes, young one,” Technoblade smirked as Wilbur laughed. Techno began to wipe off his face and neck of blood, rinsing the cloth in the river as he went. 
“Do you have any parenting wisdom to place upon me?” Wilbur asked, half-joking.
“I mean, It’s not really my department. Kids aren’t really… they’re not my thing.” Technoblade said with a little shrug of his shoulders. “But if I had any advice to give you, it would be that if you have the same patience and love Phil had for us, I think you’ll do just fine.”
Patience and Love. Live in the moment. Trust yourself. His worries seemed to melt and dull in his mind, and he felt a lot better than he did earlier. “Thanks, Technoblade.”
Technoblade just saluted his two index fingers with a smile before moving to get up, ruffling Wilbur’s hair. “Be good to the little scamp, this family’s already crazy enough.”
-----------------------------------
Wilbur zipped up his guitar case as he grabbed his keys and the small bag of coins. Looking out the window, he could see the nightclubs and bars, restaurants and torched streetlamps slowly flicker to life, glowing against the dark sky. Like a whole new town lying just beneath the surface, revealed in the darkness. Sally walked over with his gloves and scarf, a gentle sad smile on her face as Wilbur took the wool gloves and pulled them on.
“Every time you leave, I miss you just a little more.” Sally said, wrapping the scarf around Wilbur’s neck and folding it neatly in front. “Do you have to go?” Wilbur warmly smiled as he gently cupped her cheek.
“You know I’ll never be far, my salmon.” He kissed her forehead tenderly as he brushed a bit of stray hair behind her ear. “You’ll close your eyes and when you wake up I’ll be right by your side, you’ll barely even notice I left.” Sally leaned in closer as Wilbur wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, his chin resting gently on her head. As they pulled away Sally’s eyes looked up to his, a worry and fear behind her gaze that seized Wilbur’s heart.
“Promise you’ll be safe?”
“When am I ever not safe?” Wilbur asked, leading Sally to cross her arms and look at him with a slight pout that made Wilbur laugh. “Okay, okay. I promise.”
With one final goodbye kiss, Wilbur shut the bedroom door behind him again, walking downstairs. He noticed Tommy sat on the couch, head in his hands and his blonde hair messed. He looked over to his younger brother, gently propping up his guitar against the stair railings. “It’s late, what are you doing up?”
“Nightmare.” Tommy mumbled, slightly sleepily.
“Do you... wanna talk about it-?”
“I’m not seven anymore, Wil. It was just a stupid nightmare, I can handle it on my own.”
Wilbur was quiet for a moment, processing what Tommy said, how he snapped at him. He sighed before looking over to meet the teen’s eyes. “If you’re sure you’re alright…?” Tommy nodded before Wilbur pulled him into a small hug, Tommy’s hand held onto his arms around him in comfort as he smiled slightly despite his current state.
“Heh. Thanks, Wil.”
“That’s what big brothers are for, right?” Wilbur smiled as he pulled away. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I guess I’ll be off.” Wilbur said, getting up from the couch to grab his guitar once more, throwing the straps over his shoulders. “That gig won’t play itself.”
“Good luck, Wil.” Tommy called before Wilbur turned, his heart warm and happy, giving him a smile and thanking him before taking his leave into the cold night air.
------------------------------------------------
“Thank you, you’ve been an amazing audience!” Wilbur said as cheers erupted from around the pub. Moving off the stool, he grabbed his guitar by the neck and sauntered offstage, feeling happy with his performance. Within 30 minutes he managed to squeeze in four songs, which to his delight the crowd seemed to enjoy - at Melrose the tap was never empty, and as such the crowd was easily angered by the slightest things, or even nothing at all. The only somewhat mishap during his slot was when a bit of beer had splashed against his clothes thanks to a patron who had a little too much. They were quickly shown the door and the night resumed its somewhat peaceful pleasure.
He walked up to the bar and sat in the corner with his guitar, watching the next musician take the stage - it looked like a band from the amount of people. Wilbur knew he wouldn’t get paid in full until the end of the night after each performance was done, Melrose wanted to make sure they held up their end of the bargain instead of running off what the money. He had at least another hour in here before closing.
“Are you drinking or not?” Wilbur looked up to the bartender as he stared down at him, expecting some kind of response. He wasn’t exactly a big drinker, quite the opposite - the only times he’s ever drank were with Phil and Sally. Sally, once when they were both eighteen just to try it out - he winced remembering the monster hangover the morning after. Phil around a year ago when he turned twenty-one and they both shared a few beers together in celebration. Both times he’d gotten tipsy pretty easily, either because he wasn’t exactly used to drinking yet or because he was a natural lightweight, who knows. Either way, he wasn’t exactly going to risk getting drunk right now.
“Uhm, I’ll have a club soda, thanks.”
The bartender gave him a once-over, put off by his request before slightly shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself, buddy.”
“Alright, we’re Black Rose and we hope you enjoy the set! This first song is called ‘Sleepless’.” A guy spoke into the microphone, turning to his friends with a smile before counting them in as the music began to blast through the pub. It was a nice tune, and Wilbur found his foot unconsciously tapping along with the music. He closed his eyes and let the sound fill his ears as they began to sing the chorus. It felt right. There was a kind of emotional distress behind the singer's voice, in the twinge of his tone or in a voice crack or two that almost felt like magic.
“And I’m not going blind, I just keep falling, falling behind; 
Time goes slow and fast, my heart’s pumping and my head has crashed; 
Sit in silence and pretend like your demons are your friends; 
Your thoughts are racing while you’re pacing, it’s all in your mind, sleepless~!”
“Hey Wil, you got a minute?” Wilbur jolted back at how close the voice was, as he looked over to see none other than Melrose - her blonde hair flowed down her back messily with a ruby red dress that complimented her blue eyes. She pursed her lips into a line, a signal she was thinking as her pen tapped against the clipboard in her hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s, uh, it’s fine. What’s up, Mel? Hope my performance was up to par.”
Her lips formed back to a comfortable smirk. “Performance was great as always, Wilbur. You never cease to please.” Her eyes turned down toward her clipboard. “Though I’m afraid I can’t say the same for everybody. Tips came up a little short thanks to a few blanks, I’ve got to decrease your pay for tonight.”
Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mel, you promised.”
“Look, Wil I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.” Melrose let out a sigh, rubbing her temple in frustration. “I’m barely making enough to pay as is.”
As she turned to leave, Wilbur quickly grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Mel, you don’t understand, I need the cash.”
Melrose sighed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t we all.” She snapped slightly, yanking back her arm. “I told you I can’t do anything-”
“Rosie, come quick!” One of the bodyguards interrupted as he approached with a sword slung over his back. “Charlie’s getting wasted in the back, someone gave him vodka…”
“Goddammit, not again. Can’t that bastard ever get sober?” She huffed, giving Wilbur one last look before slipping back into the crowd. Fuck. Well, there goes a whole extra gig’s pay - with the pub’s restock he won’t be able to pay off everything now even if he had work twice each week...dammit. The due date was in April, he still had time. He could probably get another job while the pub’s down, he’ll have to check the town bulletin on his way home later. He turned back to his club soda, letting out a defeated sigh.
Guess I’ll be away from home more than I thought. 
A scream from outside quickly tore Wilbur from his thoughts as he turned toward the sound.
-------------------------------------
Philza was a light sleeper. Being on the road and sleeping the wilderness had always made him jump at the slightest hint of danger, a sort of survival instinct that developed. It only increased when Techno and Wilbur came around, for the first time in his life he had someone else to protect and look out for than just himself, more he could lose. He guessed that’s why he jumped the gun a bit at teaching them how to fight so early - If he couldn’t be there in time, he wanted for them to be able to protect themselves. Even so, his instincts from way back then never stopped, which was most likely why the head of the family was awake now.
Muffled sounds came from below him, shuffling. Something was here, and whatever it was it wasn’t good. His heart beat quicker as adrenaline rushed into his veins. He grabbed his sword, leaned against the wall, and crept down the hallway silently. It was dark in the house, he could barely see a few feet in front of him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t hear the noise anymore, which only heightened his senses as his heart beat faster.
Then, a groan which sent him backing up - that was much, much closer than before. Suddenly, he bumped into something that grabbed his arm and without thinking he swept his feet under whatever it was, sending them to the floor. “Ugh… hey to you too, Phil.”
He looked down and noticed his oldest moving to stand back up from where he fell against the floorboards, rubbing the back of his head. “Techno…?” He asked before quickly helping him up. “What are you doing, you scared me!”
“I was checking out the noise, same as you.” Technoblade said before readjusting his grip on his own sword. “Remind me to never spar with you when you’re in attack mode.”
“Will do.” Phil smirked. Both quickly tensed as they heard shuffling and groaning from down below, clear enough for the two to recognize the noise instantly. They looked to each other, eyes wide. Zombies. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more around in minutes. “Get Tubbo and Tommy, I’ll get Sally.” Technoblade nodded before turning and rushing off behind Phil as he rushed toward the end of the hallway, toward Sally and Wilbur’s room. Phil didn’t know how they managed to have a breach in the walls, but however it occurred it meant one thing - the next ten minutes were the difference between life and death.
He entered the room to see one of the rotting creatures standing over the shifter, who decked it clean across the face, her ears scanning her surroundings, green goop covering her hand. She turned to face Phil, who rushed forward and pushed his blade through the zombies’ skull, killing it for good. Both panted heavily as Phil checked her over, worried. “Are you okay, did it bite you?”
“No, no. I’m good.” Sally reassured him as she looked around the room. “Where’s Wil?”
“I...I don’t know, but... I’m sure he’s safe, wherever he is.” Phil said, trying his best to push his own worries out of his mind.
“Wait, he’s not back yet?” Sally’s eyes grew wide at the realization as her body tensed in worry. “He’s out there, with… with…”
“Wilbur knows how to handle himself.” Phil reassured her, worry growing in the back of his head and forming an uncomfortable spot in his stsomach. “For now we need to be more worried about ourselves - If we’re going to survive until morning we need to barricade the house, and fast.” Phil said, grabbing her by the wrist as they rushed back out into the hallway, Phil chopping another zombie’s head clean off its skull as they rushed past it toward the stairs. He could see Tommy and Tubbo wielding their swords as they tore through zombie after zombie in the living room, somehow making it into a sort of game as they smiled and laughed. Technoblade, on the other hand, moved chairs and tables against the two doors to block them watching his back as a zombie stauntered toward him, and he swept his legs under the creature and quickly curb stomped its skull, slimy green goo flowing into the wooden floor. Phil tossed Sally an axe that she caught quickly, feeling the weight in her hands and happy to have a weapon. “Clear out the ones inside.”
“Got it.”
Tommy jumped from the couch onto a tall zombie, piercing it through the chest and pinning it with his sword to a nearby wall. “Ha! Top that, idiot!” He shouted trumphantly toward Tubbo, who’s eyes lit up competitively as he attempted to hack a nearby zombie in half and managed to get his sword stuck.
“Uhm…”
Sally rushed in, ignoring the tender soreness in her tired body as she hacked the zombie’s head clean off with her axe as its body slumped to the floor. Quickly and effortlessly, she pulled out the lodged weapon and handed it to Tubbo. “Be more careful, yeah?”
“Uh… yeah, yeah…” Tubbo said sheepishly as he took his weapon back and Sally rushed to finish off Tommy’s pinned zombie. With a few strikes, it was down. Tommy grabbed his sword to get it free, tugging harshly to no avail. He got more anxious with each tug as Sally faceplamed.
“You stupid-” She muttered, handing him her axe. “Finish off the last two with Tubbo, and try not to lose another weapon, okay?” Tommy huffed in slight protest before Sally gave him a look and he rolled his eyes, taking the weapon and running off.
“I don’t think it’s gonna hold!” Technoblade yelled as he threw his back against the door, pushing it closed against what must have been around twenty zombies pushing and trying to get in with any means necessary. Sally looked over to Phil, who looked around frantically, trying to think of a plan, any plan at all. “Phil?”
“Phil, what do we-?”
A loud crash erupted - a broken window. Danger. Phil’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to shout orders. “Tommy, Tubbo, hold the back door NOW! Sally, stay behind me.” Phil’s tone was tense and sharp, and the two teen boys rushed like mice to do as he asked. “We just need a little more time, it’s gotta hold a little longer…” At this point, he was hoping for some kind of miracle. This wasn’t just a regular breach - this was a massacre. Rushing forward, he pushed the shadow in the dim light down to the floor, and quickly raised his axe to bring it down when-
“Wait wait wait-! I’m not one of them!”
Phil’s eyes squinted in the light to find… Wilbur. He looked like a mess, his clothes torn and ripped with green slimy goo staining the fabric. Phil’s eyes watered in relief as he quickly pulled his son in for a tight embrace, helping him up off the floor. “Thank god, don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Good to see you too, Dad.” Wilbur smiled before the two let go, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone more serious. “These aren’t regular zombies, they’re stronger and more resilient. Last I checked they were taking down the square one house at a time, and from the looks of it most of them were not prepared for a visit.”
“...Fuck.” Phil cursed under his breath, his mind beginning to race once again. Did they have a chance?
“I ran as fast as I could to get here, I was so worried…” Wilbur said as Sally rushed forward to embrace him with a smile, running her hands down his face and through his hair, afraid she’d lose it again. Wilbur, in turn ran his hands down her arms, his smile brightening that it was real and alive and here-
“Good to see you’re not dead, Wil.” Tommy huffed against the door as the monsters on the other side growled and moaned, pushing their weight and strength against it. “But we have a bit of a situation here!”
“We need to get out of here.” Wilbur looked over to Phil. “If we stay any longer, we’ll be trapped. Once we’re out of here we can run into the forest to hide and wait out the horde.”
“But both exits-”
The two elder brothers looked at their father and answered at the same time in surprise. “The second floor window.” They turned to each other, sharing a brief smile. Technoblade looked over to Phil once more, his mind and heart racing as the voices in his head boomed louder, and he tried his best to ignore their shouts. 
“Look, it’s risky, I know, but we’ve gotta try. We don’t have time.” He winced and grunted as the zombies on the other side of the wall grew more violent in their animalistic attempts to break in. Phil looked at his family’s faces, hints of fear and uncertainty in their expressions. Tommy’s arm went to stop Tubbo from falling over at a particularly forceful blow, and as Tommy’s nerves increased he could see Tubbo holding his hand and giving it a squeeze. Technoblade’s heels dug into the wooden floor as chairs, tables and wooden boards began to splitter under the force of the creatures outside. Wilbur pressed a soft kiss to Sally’s forehead as Sally’s hand drifted to her stomach instinctively at this point, her eyes filled with nothing but worry. He knew this was crazy, but if it meant that there was a chance they’d be safe, he’d risk it.
“Alright. Wilbur, make sure the window’s open and we have a clear way down. Everyone else, get ready to run.”
----------------------------------------
Wilbur’s heart stopped as he saw the creature’s teeth sink into Phil’s neck as he let out a scream in agony. Shit, shit, shit… he didn’t know where they came from, they blocked the stairs as they ran up, why didn’t he see it?! The zombie that bit Phil fell to the ground with a thud as Phil’s own blood seeped down his shoulder and stained his shirt. Techno stilled as he made eye contact with his father, who looked sad, knowing his fate. “Phil, I’m so sorry, I-” Wilbur trembled, his hand reaching out toward Phil, not knowing what to do, what to say. Phil’s head shook back and forth slightly before pushing his sword into Wilbur’s hands.
“You two need to go. Now. Before you lose the chance.”
Technoblade was stone faced. “Phil, we’re not leaving you-”
“There’s no time to discuss this, I said GO-!” Phil shouted sternly before going into a coughing fit, holding himself steady against the wall. Wilbur stepped forward, wanting to grab his hand, help him before Phil recoiled. “Wil… Techno… you need to go, that’s an order.” Silence fell over the two brothers, not wanting to leave their father. “Look, they’re not going to attack me now but they will attack you, now MOVE IT!”
Shuffling and groans grew behind them as Phil winced, feeling the infection flow through his body. They needed to get out before he turned, they needed to live, he wanted them to live-
“But what about you?”
Phil looked over to his sons with a sad smile. “I think I’ve taught you both enough to know what happens now.” Suddenly it felt like all the air in the room vanished. “Now do me proud and show me what we do if someone gets bit. Show me what I’ve taught you.” Phil could feel himself getting lightheaded, he was going to pass out, but he couldn’t… not until they both were safe.
Wilbur didn’t know what to do as he looked to Techno then to Phil, who slowly lowered himself to the floor, his back leaning against the walls of the home he built for them. Techno’s fists tightened as he turned to face his brother. “Techno…?”
“Get somewhere safe, okay?” His voice was heavy, serious. “Promise me you’ll get somewhere safe.”
“I… I will, I promise.” Wilbur said, trying to look at his brother to see if he had any plan. “But what are we going to-?” Before he knew what was happening, Techno shoved him through the window, closing and locking it firmly behind him. Wilbur began to panic, realizing what Technoblade was doing and trying to find some kind of grip before he slipped off the roof and landed in the bushes, pain and bruises blossoming on his body. Tubbo helped him up off the ground as Tommy’s eyes looked up to the window, confused. 
“Where’s Phil and Tech?”
Tears pricked at the edges of Wilbur’s eyes as he felt his heart begin to throb without them here. Why, why why… Why did he stay? Why didn’t he let him stay? Why wasn’t he careful enough? It’s all his fault-
“Wil…?” Tommy’s voice wavered. “Where’s Technoblade and Phil?”
At that moment, Wilbur knew things changed forever. Phil and Techno were gone, they were gone and they were never coming back. He told Technoblade, he promised him that he’d get all of them somewhere safe, and with a heavy heart Wilbur knew it wasn’t here, not anymore. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else, he was going to protect them. He was going to protect all of them, if it was the last thing he’d ever do. That very moment what Techno said to him finally made sense.
‘If things go bad, you’ll know what to do, Wilbur.’
Right now, he wanted, more than anything in the world, to get them out of here. Tubbo and Tommy shared awkward glances as Wilbur took a deep breath for a moment, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes. Sally looked towards him concerned as Wilbur slid his hand into hers, looking towards his brothers with the same look and tone Phil had. 
“We need to go. Now.”
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cozy-the-overlord · 3 years
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Dances and Daggers
Summary:   The Summer Festival is upon Asgard, as is the tradition of the dagger ceremony, where each unmarried gentleman chooses a lady to bestow with the honor of carrying his dagger for the night. As Prince Thor’s betrothed, Teki’s only goal is to accept his dagger with grace and hope that her violent stepfather doesn’t find fault with her in the process. But Prince Thor is unpredictable, and when he ignores his engagement on a whim Teki finds herself in a desperate situation. Luckily, Thor isn’t the only prince in Asgard…
Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character
Chapter 9: The Practice
Previous Chapter |  Next Chapter
Word Count: 2,849
Chapter Summary: The search for Teki’s father is put on hold with the approach of another Asgardian tradition.
Thanks for reading! :)
TW: mentions of child abuse
Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae
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Read it on Ao3!
“There!” Brant smacked his remaining playing cards on to the table. “I win!”
Teki smiled distractedly, dumping her own hand on to the table. “Good job Brant. But remember, winner cleans up.”
She watched her brother scoop the cards back into the deck without really paying much attention. A part of her felt guilty. Osvald was out of town, away on one of his semi-annual jaunts to the less populated area of Asgard where he and some other gentlemen of the court would ride off to the countryside for a fortnight to hunt and drink and do goodness knows what else while they were free from the watchful eyes of their wives. Teki had always looked forward to these trips. With Osvald gone, she was free, too— free to breathe easy for a little while, play with Brant without looking over her shoulder, enjoy a dinner without wondering what would happen if Thor didn’t ask her to dance.
But this time, she couldn’t bring herself to be as excited. While Teki was still grateful for the respite, Völundr’s disclosure weighed heavily on her mind. It was difficult to say nothing as she stood in her closet while her mother fretted about which dress she should wear to dinner. It was strange—her mother never talked about their time with her father, and yet somehow Teki felt as though she had been lied to. Her mother had always been quick to lecture, quick to criticize whenever she came too close to crossing the line of impropriety.
“Watch yourself!” she scolded one night on their way back from dinner, when Teki had spent little time dancing with Prince Thor and far too much dancing with his brother. “Keep this up and you’ll find yourself with a reputation, and then where will all of us be?”
You would know, wouldn’t you?
Teki didn’t say anything, though. She wasn’t certain how her mother would react to learning that she knew her secret. Deny it, probably. Admonish Teki for believing it. Demand to know where she had heard such a thing. She’d do her best to shut it down as quickly as possible, then go back to pretending that nothing had happened and everything was fine. But she’d look at Teki differently, the same suspicious way Teki now looked at her, perpetually wondering what her daughter was really thinking below the surface. Teki wasn’t certain she was ready to open that can of worms.
She was still playing piano for the Queen nearly every day. While she tried not to play exclusively from her father’s catalogue, Frigga didn’t seem to mind that she mostly stuck to pieces he wrote. She would ask questions about her father and his inspiration and seemed to genuinely listen to her responses. At first, Teki was guarded in her answers. Somehow, she found it a little hard to believe that the Queen of the Nine Realms cared about the backstory behind a song she had never heard before. There had to be some ulterior motive to her interest.
But as it went on, Teki realized that even if there was some calculated reasoning behind her conversations with Frigga, she didn’t care. It was nice, talking about music and her father, how he’d get an idea suddenly while they were walking through the garden and rush back to their rooms so he could start working with it as soon as he could. And it was nice to feel as if someone—not just someone, an adult—wanted to hear more.
One morning, when she was returning from Frigga’s quarters, Teki was startled by a familiar voice coming from behind the cracked door of her apartment.
“That’s close, that’s very close! But there’s only one ‘L.’ M-U-S-P-E-L-H-E-I-M.”
Frowning, she pushed open the door to find Prince Loki sitting on the floor next to her brother, who was frantically scribbling something down in a notebook. He looked up grinning when she entered.
“Hi Teki!”
She cocked her head, stifling a giggle at the way Loki hurriedly pulled himself to his feet.
“What’s going on in here?” she asked.
Brant waved the notebook. “Prince Loki’s teaching me how to write the names of all the Nine Realms!”
“I stopped by to talk to you,” Loki added quickly. The tips of his ears were pink. “He said he needed help, so...” He motioned towards Brant on the floor.
He shifted awkwardly, but Teki was touched. “Really? That was really nice of you.” As the prince’s cheeks flushed the same color as his ears, she looked at her brother. “Why do you need to write the names of all the Nine Realms?”
Brant glanced around the room, as if checking for eavesdroppers.
“I’m making a map!” he whispered conspiratorially.
“A map?” she whispered back, matching his tone. “A map to what?”
He shook his head. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
Teki chuckled as he returned to his notebook. He had been a lot more talkative recently, and not just with her. She suspected that Loki’s visits, which had been becoming increasingly frequent, may have had something to do with it.
She turned back to the prince. “So, what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Oh, nothing in particular,” he shrugged apologetically. “I just wanted to see you—see that you were well.”
“Oh, well, I am.” Teki was suddenly feeling much warmer than before. She glanced down at the floor. “Thank you.”
They stood together in awkward silence for a bit, the only sound being the frantic scratching of Brant’s pen on the paper.
Loki was the first to break it. “Are you excited for the Games?” he asked abruptly.
Teki frowned. “Are they coming up already?” Wonderful. The Games were nothing but a demonstration of violence and deranged screaming, and Teki dreaded them every year.
He nodded. “Three more weeks.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, “I’m playing this year.”
She startled. “Really?” It made sense, she supposed—if she was of age for Thor to give her his dagger, then Loki must be of age to participate, but somehow Loki and the Games occupied two opposite, irreconcilable parts of her mind. Teki wasn’t sure how to respond. “Wow, that’s… exciting.”
“It is,” he agreed, gazing down at the floor. “It’s rather daunting, as well. Everyone expects so much…” He looked back up at her with an eagerness that was only slightly masked. “You’ll be there, right?”
The question was simple enough, but it felt like he was asking something else. Something deeper. Something he should’ve known Teki couldn’t answer.
“Of course,” she said slowly. “I’m there every year. To support Thor.”
Loki stiffened. “Oh. Right,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How could I forget?”
Guilt washed over her. Teki looked away. She shouldn’t have mentioned Thor. She should’ve just said that she’d be there left at that. Stupid, stupid…
“Hey!” They both turned to see Brant glaring up at them. “How do you spell ‘Svartalfheim’?”
The anticipation for the Games only grew as the days went on. Prince Thor began hosting a daily training session with his friends in the sparring pit—whether because he genuinely wanted the practice or just to show off, Teki wasn’t certain. Loki had been joining them as well, leaving her without much to do. It was a strange realization—since when did she spend so much time with Loki? It shouldn’t have mattered, but she felt his absence throughout the day, as she walked through the gardens by herself or sat scanning her father’s journal in the library alone. Strange…
She found herself heading to the sparring pit every afternoon to watch them practice. That was strange too, because usually she avoided these fights like the plague, but despite the shouting and the cursing and the hitting and the crashing she kept returning every day. Teki told herself it was just because she was bored, and had absolutely nothing to do with the way Loki’s face had lit up the first time he noticed her leaning against the fence.
At first, she worried that people would wonder at her sudden interest in the Games, but as time went on and no one questioned her, she realized this was normal. Expected, even. Because to them, she wasn’t coming to support Loki. They assumed she was there for Thor. Her betrothed.
Her betrothed wasn’t very nice. Thor was strong, and he seemed to enjoy making a show of it. He always helped his opponent to their feet after defeating them, but there was something mocking in his tone that Teki didn’t like. His laughter boomed across the palace courtyard as he body slammed one of his friends to the ground yet again.
“You weren’t even trying!”
It was hard to believe that he and Loki were so closely related.  The younger prince was much quieter in his approach, quick to dodge and lighter on his feet. His strategy was less about force and more about patience, letting his opponent chase him around the arena until they tired. When they made a mistake, he was always swift to pounce.  Based on their reactions, Teki got the feeling that Thor and his friends hadn’t expected his little brother to be so capable of holding his own. She didn’t dare to clap for his victories, but she couldn’t bring herself to hide her grin.
However, when he sparred with Thor, it was a different story. The Crown Prince seemed determined to put his brother in his place. He pounded against Loki mercilessly, backing him into a corner and affording him no room to dodge. Teki cringed, covering her eyes with her hands. Why did people like this?
She waited for Loki to yield, but instead the crowd rippled with cries of surprise. She peeked between her fingers to see the Thor on the ground, the younger prince standing above him, staff in hand and smirking.
Teki frowned, confused. What happened?
Thor jumped to his feet with a roar. “Cheat!” He shoved Loki’s chest, so hard that Loki stumbled backwards. “You know damn well magic is against the rules!”
Oh.
The younger prince picked himself up, brushing the dust off his breastplate.
“I still don’t see why,” he grinned. “In battle, one should take advantage of any skill afforded to them.”
Yes, she wondered, why isn’t magic allowed? Shouldn’t such a talent merit the same celebration as fighting with a sword? It certainly had more varied uses than simple violence. Her thoughts strayed to the night of Loki’s Nameday Feast, how easily he had cloaked them both in an illusion when Osvald came pounding through the door. What would have happened if he hadn’t been able to do that? Teki shivered. She agreed with Loki.
But Thor was fuming. “A true warrior doesn’t hide behind childish tricks,” he snapped. “Anyone who does is either cowardly or incompetent.”
“Now, now, Thor, go easy on him.” To the right, Fandral hopped the fence and joined the two of them in the arena. He smiled at Loki, his voice facetiously pleasant. “We all know that he’s more accustomed to the classroom than the battleground.”
Loki flinched. Teki didn’t really understand the insult, but hearing it from the blond warrior-in-training was enough to make bile rise in her throat. Loki had told her more about Fandral after the night they ran into him by the lake, although the five minutes of interaction she had exchanged with him was more than enough to cement her dislike. He was narcissistic and obnoxious, clinging to Thor’s friendship like a flea clings to a dog. He laughed as Loki picked up his staff and trudged out of the arena, jaw tight.
Teki watched him, brow creased. He was upset—she could tell. She wished she could go to him, talk to him, make sure he was all right, but there were too many people around—she didn’t want to risk making a scene. Instead, she just kept on staring, willing him to look up at her so she could give him a reassuring smile or… something. She wasn’t exactly sure. It didn’t matter in the end. Loki kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground.
But one of the others didn’t seem to have any qualms about looking at Teki. She wasn’t certain when Sif had first noticed her watching the fighters train, but in the ensuing days she became painfully aware of the icy glare the warrior-maiden seemed to reserve just for her.
Today, Sif had only ripped her gaze from Teki long enough to disarm her opponent and pin him to the floor. She made eye contact with her even as she held her boot against his throat. Teki shifted uncomfortably. The message was clear enough: this is my territory.
She didn’t know much about Sif, except that she trained with the boys and Thor liked her. Loki had called Thor’s feelings a passing fancy, but the summer was nearly over and he still danced with her every night. Teki couldn’t blame him. Sif was his age, with his strength and his wildfire. She was gorgeous in an angry sort of way—wearing armor instead of dresses had given her a kind of exotic beauty Teki knew she could never hope to achieve. Teki would’ve admired her if she wasn’t so terrifying.
It’s not my fault! she wanted to scream as Sif exited the arena, still glowering. It’s not my fault we’re engaged! I swear!
But it really came to a head at the end of the week.
Thor and his friends were taking a break for water, leaning up against the fence post only a little way up from Teki. Most of the other spectators had left already, and she was thinking that perhaps it was time for her to go as well—she had been watching for a few hours already, and she wanted to be back in her rooms before Osvald got home that evening—when out of nowhere Sif snapped her gaze to her.
“You’re a little young to be hanging around the sparring pit all the time, aren’t you?”
Teki froze. Suddenly, the entire group was silent and staring at her.
“What’s that?” Thor asked, confused.
Sif jerked her head towards her. “Your fiancé. She’s been here every day for the two weeks. Hadn’t you noticed?”
“Uh—” Clearly, he hadn’t. With the awkward air of one who was at a loss for how to respond, Thor gave a jerky bow in her direction. “Lady Tekla.”
Burning, Teki quickly curtseyed. “My prince.”
Fandral laughed. “Her prince! Why, such a devoted bride you have,” he bowed too, although his was much more exaggerated. “Tell us, Lady Tekla, how do you find your betrothed?” he smirked. “Are you pleased with his form?”
Teki blanched, pulling away from the railing. “I—”
“Let her alone Fandral.” She relaxed a bit once Loki interjected. He stood in the back of the group, arms crossed in irritation. “I doubt she wants to waste her time with the likes of you.”
She inhaled deeply. They were all looking at Loki now. Her trembling fingers picked at her sash as she focused on her breathing. In and out. They’ll have forgotten you in a moment. In and out.
But Fandral was frowning. He glanced back and forth between her and Loki, slowly raising a finger.
“Just a moment…” He turned to the younger prince in bewildered amusement. “Was she the one with you that night?”
Teki’s heart dropped.
No, no no no no—
“What are you talking about?” Loki asked flippantly, but Fandral wasn’t having any of it.
“She was, wasn’t she?” he cried, whipping back to Teki. “The night of your Nameday Feast! You were frolicking about the grounds with your brother’s bride-to-be?” He threw his head back with a guffaw. “Oh, that’s rich!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Loki insisted, glancing anxiously at Teki. Her whole body was shaking. Fandral was still going on, but she barely heard him.
He’s going to find out.
“What happened?” Thor was asking.
“Oh, I caught them after they had snuck away from the feast,” Fandral had completely doubled over laughing. “They were sitting by the lake together. They were all wet—I think they had been swimming!”
Everyone seemed to be speaking at once, hooting, giggling. Teki couldn’t tell one breath from the next.
We wouldn’t want to embarrass ourselves, would we Tekla?
“No, we weren’t—” Loki’s desperation was cut off by Volstagg clapping his shoulder.
“Barely of age, and already making his brother a cuckold!” he bellowed. “I didn’t know he had it in him!”
The others howled.
Oh Norns, he’s going to kill me!
She couldn’t breathe.
Loki pushed his way to her, reaching through the fence just as her vision was darkening.
“Teki!” His voice was brimming with concern, but she only heard Fandral’s response.
“And he’s got a pet name for her too!”
Loki was still talking to her, but instincts had taken over. Teki turned and bolted.
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