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blissfulparker · 3 years

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Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

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muffindaddystyles · 3 years

Text

After all, Moon is just a rock without Sun.

Trigger warning: Mentions of failed attempt suicide, blood and hospital, Angst.

It’s a chirpy day. Though, there are grey murky clouds in Y/N's apartment and she doesn’t know from where all of it came from, but this is the end.

She badly wants this to be an end.

She stares the brown envelope sitting at her nightstand and all of it comes crashing upon her tiny head and drowning her into depths and sorrows and guilt and agony of her past and present, reminiscing the cracks of happiness she got here and there.

Her breath shudders. The excitement of valentines day glittery outside and she smiles, happy for everyone out there getting to be loved and cherished and pampered.

She gets all of that too – with Harry she gets to pool into all of the giddiness but —- there always buts with Harry because she isn’t his person, she never was.

He’s always gonna be her true bezzy as he describes in true Harry fashion.

She’s grateful for that.

But, she thinks it’s enough for her. She has reached where everyone human wants to – getting to feel loved after many hardships and now when she has enjoyed it and got to know what it feels like to have it all -- she thinks it’s time for her to go.

To get rid of the loneliness that resides inside her, she was never able to overcome and she pinches the blade in between her fingertips and bunches Harry’s hoodie towards her nose smelling it and it warms her heart, it warms every part of her and she really really thinks that the apology in that letter will be enough for him to move on.

She whimpers. Staring blankly as the blade inches into the thin skin of her wrist slowly and painfully and to make it less painfully she tears her delicate skin apart in one swipe and bites down a cry, putting the blood coated life taking thing on the couch and stands up a bit wobbly letting the thick dark droplets fall on the carpet.

She walks towards her bed and flumps into white sheets. Eyelids fluttering and lips parted shallow and they snap open upon the beep of her notifications and when she looks at it – a sad sob tugs out of her lungs.

She lays on her side not focusing the way blood seeps into white sheets and spreads like roots, making a horrific past of her tragedy. Instead, she keeps on watching the video Harry sent to her with hooded tired eyes and a beautiful peaceful smile.

Snuggles into sheets that smells like sunnies and peonies and the cinnamon musk he wears.

His skin soft and curls bouncy and everywhere, his gorgeous face on display and his dimples coveting adorably as he tries to hover the camera at the tray of red velvet cupcakes just as she likes, “Look ducky made cupcakes f'you – two batch in total —--,” She really wants to know for whom the other batch is for but she just shakes her head and giggles wetly, letting her tear tickle her nose when he pouts and shows her the frosting, “Ruined the tops – tried to make frogs on it —-- remember you asked me to? I still’ve some naked ones we could try some froggies on it later —---- .....” His words spins soothingly in her brain and her blurry gaze fills with panicked tears; because she just realised that this isn’t what she wants.

What did she do?

Oh my goodness what did I do?

It’s late and I can’t go back and I’m really gonna miss Sparkly and he'll be so sad to see me like this, but it’s too late Y/N – her heart thumped and it jumps when something pounded loudly and it’s her head maybe.

Harry waits at the door. His grin big and gleeful. He jumps on his toes a bit and he couldn’t believe he's about to do it today, but no matter what happens he’s gonna confess to her and he frowns a tad when no response comes from inside – not even the hum of her sweetness and the prattle of her steps --- there's eerie silence and Harry doesn’t like that.

He waits and ponders over. Then sighs and was about to retreat back but he knows that he’s too lazy to walk all the way back and come back again, so he shimmies her door's key from under her lavender pot.

When he stumbles inside he grins seeing his sleepy head –-- snoring in broad daylight, his ears perking at his own voice echoing through the speaker of her phone and it makes his heart flutter and he has this evil plan to bounce on her mattress and annoy the shit out of her.

But.

When he comes to stand over her and his eyes falls over the bloody sheets and her wrist cut open, her body limp and lifeless – her cheeks soaked with tears and her mouth gasping for oxygen his grin falls drastically into a frown as he went blank for a moment.

Nothing.

Just pitch darkness.

His heartbeat drops.

His breath getting sucked out of his lungs and he feels like fainting.

The white noise that stings his ears and the heart that stopped working a second ago revives back and he wished it didn’t – the tray falls from his trembling hand onto the floor and he’s turning her over and his tears are falling from his throat down to her skin and he’s tripping on his knees and cradling her face trying to jostle her unconscious body.

“Baby ---.. wake up please ....” He weeps and tries to shake her with all the frailness he was left with and he's despising how her usual glowy skin is getting paler by every moment.

She isn’t his Y/N. She'd never do it without giving a second thought for him because she cares about him and he screams hoarsely trying to lift her up and into his chest to hug her – but everything has got so heavy for him.

He's feeling so small.

So helpless and vulnerable.

“Baby!!! I said wake up, pet --- s'not fair ---... y’ve to —- y've t'.... brought – brought you yer favourites .. now don’t be mean and open yer eyes, I know you’re teasin’ me.” He has officially lost it. He thinks he’s going crazy and hallucinating things – trying to avoid the reality.

He cries patting her cheek and his breath hitches in his throat when he plants his ear to her chest and there’s feeble thump of her heart.

He’s lunging quick and picking her up in his arms and squeezing her protectively to himself, slipping outside through her door in rush and panic – her head bobs and her wrist dangles from his forearm as he doesn’t wait for elevator and flies down the stairs with shouts for people to fuck themselves away and breaking every speed limit to reach hospital.

His grip on her hoodie loosens with each step they take towards the ER and he pleads them to let him in but the doctors pushes him out of the flapping doors and he’s tumbling back and onto the tiled floor, almost straining his ankle in attempt.

They told him she’s okay. But, needs a good rest since she lost alot of blood and visitors aren’t allowed –-- before five hours so he waits – he waits alone and with dire pain just to get a single glimpse of her and asking the doctors again and again if she’s okay.

Next he knows the sun is leaving him and he’s left in company of darkness before his friends are surrounding him – comforting and consoling him.

He doesn’t need it. Because, he isn’t feeling anything. He’s numb to his stomach and when they look down at him in sympathy – everything comes churning in his throat and he’s pushing everyone away and tumbling towards the washroom sliding against the floor knees first and throwing inside the bidet with loud groany noises.

He feels like all of his organs will come out and spurt infront of him at this point.

He tries to grab onto something and almost falls back, walks on his wobbly legs towards the sink and splashes water harshly on his face that it hurts.

His eyes struck at himself in the mirror and he can’t recognize himself ... his eyes hollow and his skin crumbled and his flimsy shirt sticking to his chest from dried blood and he doesn’t give a fuck unless his baby is alright and he’s griping the edges of the sink hunching forward as more cries squelches out of him.

He doesn’t wipe the tears away and when walks outside Sarah is rushing to help him but he’s gesturing her to stop and falling on the bench. Throwing his head against the wall and his chest heaves as he mutters gaining everyone's attention, “She almost died ...”

“She’s okay now, H.” Luna tells him but he kisses his teeth and grunts angrily.

“No. No, you don't get it!! She. Is. Not.” He pushes the heels of his palms against his sockets and rubs them in frustration, “I was the only one she got ‘n –-- I wanted to make her feel loved not — fuck, I failed her. I failed the only person that matters to me, ‘course I lacked somethin’ s'why she didn’t tell me what was goin' on with her.” Fresh tears brims at his lashes and Sarah squeezes his shoulder.

“When I saw her all blue ‘n bloody, was so scared to even touch her ---... thought I died at that mo' ‘s worse than dyin' Sarah ... watchin' ye’loved one slip from yer life ‘n – ‘n that you’ll never have ‘em again —--...” He stutters and runs his palms down his face.

“I’m in so much pain watchin' her suffer on that ventilator ...” His bottom lip wobbles and he rocks back and forth on the bench, hair falling in his eyes but he doesn’t do anything to push them back.

Luna doesn’t have a heart to give him that letter. Not knowing how he’ll take it considering he’s already broken to pieces and dust, lingering on bit of a hope.

But, when the nurse comes and tells them their time is over and only one person could stay with Y/N, Luna's handing the letter to Harry leaving him confused and frowning.

Though, he’s glad when they let him inside the room and a shiver runs down his spine upon seeing thick tubes pricking and poking the delicate skin of his ducky.

Her unconscious body looks peaceful and halo like and it’s scary.

He doesn’t make a noise. Tries to be as quite as possible and bites down at his lip to avoid from tearing up but he ends up so, caressing her flushed cheek and kisses her temple feeling her light breath hit his neck.

“’M so sorry, ducklin'. I’m baby. Fo' being late in everythin’ ....---” He sniffles. Wiping at his nose and sits beside her as close as he could – feathering his finger pads at her knuckles and flinches back when the finger she has a heart rate monitor on twitches and he’s afraid that he hurt her.

He keeps on watching her not blinking an eye and when he couldn’t sleep he takes a look at the letter sitting in his lap.

He shakes his head and ignores it. Then his trembly fingers are opening it and raising it infront of his eyes and he recognizes the writing right away and it makes him whimper pathetically.

He recites the words. Not able to feel the moisture ticking down his throat, the pet name she used to call him rattling in his brain and he remember the night they met – he can never forget that night.

Dear Sparkly, I know you’ll be very grumpy and angry with me when you’ll get this letter -- but, it’s okay. Yeah? I’ll be looking at you from above don’t worry —-- so you better not be silly with yourself.

And he could imagine her sweet eyes getting all big and concerned.

I just wanted to let you know that I love you. I’ve loved you .... since that night when you were sitting at those steel stairs opposite to the rooftop of the vacant building I was sitting at and you eyed me peculiarly when I stood at the edge waving at you – just because you had your earphones plugged but you weren't wearing them --- it was cute because you were too engulfed, staring at the moon.

He’s baffled that she remembers the smallest detail. Harry wasn’t feeling very well and came to that empty rooftop to relax, only to get interrupted by a cute girl.

She trailed behind him like a ducklin' after that -- as if she got the cute orange beak to chatter his anxiousness away.

I want you to be careless and free and never feel like you’re struck inside your own body and I want you to love -– to make sure you feel loved.

I hope that you’ll have someone with whom you could gaze at moon for hours, listening to Beatles together sharing one headphone (I hated them by the way) and when they sit beside you, it feels like they’re the moon -– like they glimmer your insides, when you touch them it’s all heavenly and pretty and it makes you feel loved and jittery.

His heart clenches into fist and clots at that and he bites the inside of his cheek.

Heartbroken.

Sad.

Terribly sick.

He isn’t liking it reading it. He’s hating it infact. He was about to stop. Tear it in pieces and dump it in trash. But, then again he couldn’t.

Because Harry. I’m not your moon. I’m the sun. That’d irritate you and you’d never be able to look at it with full heart eyes –-- I’m too hot for you, pun right there. My touch will burn you instead of filling you with jitteriness. You’d wait for me to go and yearn for the moon to come back --- Always on your toes because everything becomes too much of a heat for you and I don’t want that –- I love you but that doesn’t mean I’ll take you down with me.

I’m not that selfish, Harry.

I love you and I was too embarrassed to tell you this in person.

I hope you forgive me.

Yours Sun.

He’s cornered up and sobbing into his elbow, as the paper written with her whole soul hangs from the tips of his fingers and he takes a look at her with cloudy eyes and digs his nails into his knees.

He hiccups jumping forward and towering her when she stirs with a whine and Harry’s cupping her cheeks, “Oh my ...,” He’s pressing the button to call the nurses and doctors and gives her an eskimo kiss before pulling away and examining her closely.

Her eyes are pink floods of tears and humiliation. Even though they’re unaware of her presence and exhausted.

Her lips chapped as she rolls her tongue to mumble some words, “’m sorry ...” She whimpers as her arm shoots with pain and Harry’s shaking his head, pressing his forehead against hers.

“Shhh. Shh. Baby ducky, ‘s okay. Tell me you’re okay, please tell me you’re not leavin’ me again.” She slip shuts her eyes and nods. She’s weak and frail. Even if the doctors checked her and made her drink some fluids she’s still not able to move without Harry’s assistance.

She has her eyes closed. Head sunk into pillow and they flutter when Harry speaks, in the most softest voice and draws circles on her knee while doing so.

“I love you.” He croaks out. Gulping down the bulk choking him alive and she stares him, her heart pausing for a bit and his eyes widen seeing the monitor going weird and it makes her cheeks heat up.

Embarrassed she looks away and Harry takes her chin between his fingers and gazes her with profound intensity and fondness.

“You’re my sun. You’re. I bask in yer warmth and y’make me feel warm everywhere, it oozes from me every pore in adoration and love. Even when you don’t appear I feel your presence and the clouds could never be pink without ye' ‘n my skies would never be cherubic if it’s not you my darling —... I gaze moon only for Sun to peek from the hues and I always wait fo’ ye’ —-- always gonna be there on that rooftop counting the seconds you shine up my world.” His fingers shaky as he slips it between her palms lingering to get relief from her touch and she sniffs, blinking the tears away accepting him and kissing the inside of his palm.

“After all, Moon is just a rock without Sun.” He whispers and that was enough for her to close the distance between them and place her cold lips against his and he embraces her tenderly -- pecking her upper lip twice then kissing her whole mouth to whisk out all his love into it and her fingers brushes over his jaw muttering against his taffy lips.

“I love you. Even when I was dying all I could think about was ye'sparkly -- but it was too late and I was aware of how much pain you were in but it felt like I was struck inside a cage —---...” She rambles. Coughing when it hurts her throat and Harry shushes her kissing her hair gently and mutters against them – smoothing his palm down her back to calm her down.

“You’re ‘ere. In me arms is what matters.” He keeps her face tucked under his chin and keeps on pecking her skin.

“’M g'na take care of you, baby.”

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babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

monster

part two of bear

Ft. Geralt of Rivia x Reader

summary: when Geralt loves the monster inside of you, you think you have nothing to worry about. But what happens when someone frames you when you are innocent and poisons your lover's mind, turning him against you?

warnings: angst

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost, copy or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist]

The smouldering heat from the fire warmed your blood and bones to no extent, but what was the point of it? You looked at the blanket of the stars above you, but the brittle tears in your eyes made your vision blurry and difficult. Bringing your fingers gingerly to the side of your blood stained face, you pinched the bridge of your nose, waiting for the midnight to strike once more and your wretched curse to take over you.

He was your respite, in this cruel world of harshness. He, in his own different way, his outer shell hard and impossible to crack; used to be soft and gentle just for your eyes. He was like your little flicker of fire, that reflected in your eyes, warming up the cold in your heart. Geralt of Rivia. Fucking White Wolf. The bloody bastard that did this to you, and now you were out here, in the middle of nowhere, hunched underneath the canopy of the trees, warming yourself up by the little fire that you had lit, afraid of being caught.

The deeper you stared into the sizzling embers, your chin resting unceremoniously against your knees, that you had pulled up, and had an arm locked around, the more the thoughts and the memories plagued you, of the countless times the Witcher had shown you how he wasn't like the others.

The way he made love to you that night he found out about your curse. It was gentle, and raw. He held you close to his chest after that, the heat radiating from his body warming up your frame, as his lips tenderly explored your shoulders, and your lips. He held you to his chest, his thick, beefy fingers stroking through your course sweaty locks, his firm body pressed to you as he shared your bed, night after night, except for the days he was out on a monster hunt.

Geralt of Rivia looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. His fingers delicately traced the line of your lips, down your neck, over the valley of your breasts, and his breathing hitched, his lips pursing together, his golden orbs radiating with a warmth every time he was around you.

After midnight struck, and you turned into the bear you turned every single night into, Geralt didn't run away. Instead, you did. The first three nights of being with him, you ran away every single night the second you transformed, and it was a more a feeling of disgust on yourself, than a fear that you would end up hurting Geralt.

Then, from the fourth night, and the fifth, he began following you; his adept, athletic form running after you, jumping over the hedges and the thorns, just to make you stop running from him.

The sixth night, he finally stopped you, cornering you to a stone hill, his hands raised slightly, on either of his side, his chest heaving up and down, "It's me, my love." You knew it was him, but he was trying to make sure. You turned your animalistic front away from him, turning your back towards him. Geralt didn't go away, instead he took a step closer until you felt him place a hand on your back, the first touch barely grazing you, but it was as if he was waiting for your reaction. When you didn't flinch or try to attack him, he began stroking your fur tenderly and a growl emancipated from your snoot.

He was taming the monster in you, slowly yes but he sure was. You didn't run away from him this time.

That night, or the few nights after that, Geralt didn't leave your side even as you turned into that bear again. He stayed, nuzzling the side of your massive face with his nose, his fingers gently scratching your neck, just beneath your snout.

Your mornings with him were the best, especially when you changed back into your own human form upon the touch of the first sunlight, Geralt was with you, holding your hands in his as he watched your bear form melt away. He smiled, as though welcoming you back after a long journey, pulling your tiny, naked form against his chest to give you the warmth as he took his shirt off and let it slide over your frame. Holding you close to his side, he walked you back to the shared shack the two of you now lived in.

What had gone wrong so terribly that you were forced to hide in the thick woods, away from the humanity and away from Geralt?

Geralt didn't know what to believe. He didn't want to believe. There was blood everywhere the smell of it so strong, it was making him sick. Little children, young adults, women, no one was spared. The entire shack now lay abandoned, with bodies lined to the front door with massive claw marks that looked like that of a bear. His heart sank.

She was never like this; she was never a monster but he wasn't so sure anymore.

The stench was unbearable, the whispers of the villagers growing louder and louder into Geralt's ears. He could feel their hatred piercing through his flesh, their fingers pointing at him, blaming him for sheltering the monster they should have dealt with a long time ago. Was it a mistake saving her? Was she actually a monster hiding her true self under a blanket of kindness? For the first time, Geralt of Rivia had no answers.

Dejected, his head hung low, his mind dazed, not with the amount of ale he had had to drink, but rather the plague of his unrelentless morbid thoughts, Geralt walked back to the shack he shared with you, dreading coming face to face with you for the first time.

As he stepped into the shack, he could hear the utensils cracking against each other as you hunched over the sink, cleaning the brass vessels under the running water, your palms scrubbing the oil off them. You were humming to yourself in a low voice, and usually Geralt melted at the sight, wrapping his thick, veiny arms around your waist as he pulled you to him and kissed all the knots and the stress from his body away. But this time, things were different. You were the cause of his stress.

"You're home, love," you whispered, finally aware of his presence. Geralt wasn't specifically silent, with his heavy, burly frame and the armour that was in the least extremely noisy, "I'll get your bath. And the broth is almost on the last boil."

Geralt didn't respond, instead he began stripping down his armour until he was dressed in just his underwear. By that time, you had warmed some water in a metal tub for him, and Geralt stepped into it, hissing slightly as some old healing wounds on his feet came in contact with the warm water; as he sunk in comfortably, placing both his hands on either of the sides. He had a lot to think about.

You regarded him carefully. His shoulders were tense; his body hunched slightly and the old scars on his back were glistening under your candle that lit the room. You strolled towards him, pulling up a stool behind him and came to sit down, your fingers gently trailing over his back until you were scrubbing his back. He stiffened to your touch, and your touch suddenly felt foreign to him.

"Geralt, what's wrong?" Your lip quivered, and your heart sank, at how distant he was being. Yes, Geralt had always been a man of few to no words, but where his words fell short, his actions told you how he cared for you. But today, it was like you had been left to stand in a cold winter night, and Geralt had locked himself away, with the only source of warmth with him.

Suddenly, he stood up, splashing water all around the tub, soiling the flooring and you stood up too, frowning as to what had come over him. He leapt out of the bathtub, his naked form flashing in front of your eyes as he turned his bum towards you and began drying himself off with the cloth you had laid out for him. Once done, he pulled his tights up his toned legs and turned briefly towards you and started wearing his shirt, "Leaving."

"But Geralt, you just –"

"I need a fucking drink. I'll be at the tavern. Don't wait for me," He cut you off, brutally tearing through the soft coating of your tender heart, and you couldn't help but swallow his rudeness, and nodded. You grabbed a mop, and began cleaning the mess he had made on the floor, only to glare at him as he sat down against the side of the bed and began throwing his boots on.

"Leave, and don't even think of coming back into bed in the middle of the night, shit drunk and stinking like a pig," you snarled taking a sharp breath through your nose as you turned away from him and began mopping with your back turned towards him, your shoulders rigid and tense, your arm movements fast and angry.

"I sleep with a fucking bear, can me stinking like a pig be worse?"

You dropped the mop unceremoniously to the floor with a loud clash and turned towards him, your eyes narrowed down and you felt an unrelentless rage inside of you, and this rage was mixed with hurt.

"Get the fuck out, Witcher," your voice was low pitched and dangerous, and with one glare in your direction, the steps of the Witcher faded into nothingness.

That night, as you laid in bed, waiting for that cruel minute when you would turn into an animal, you couldn't help but let your eyes bleed with hot , salty tears, running down your cheeks, soiling your bedding. You whimpered and curled into a ball, burying your face into your hands as you began crying.

You pressed your fisted palm to your mouth, pressing it tight against it so your cries subsided, for you could suddenly hear the sounds of footsteps outside your home. Of course it wasn't Geralt, you were sure of that; the footsteps weren't of a single person, and it felt like an entire army was marching down on you.

You sat up in bed and slid to the edge, standing up as you ran to the window. The villagers were all heading your way, holding lit torches, their faces angry and most of them were yelling.

You cried in pain, looking down at your bleeding thigh were a villager's dagger had managed to cut you. They had found you hiding in the forest, and since you hadn't transitioned into your animal form yet, they had tied you up in chains and were dragging you along the muddy path, their movements fast and calculated. They had to reach the prison before midnight.

The walk to the prison didn't take more than a few minutes, and soon you were pushed face first into one of the empty prison cells. It stank of piss and blood, and you weren't sure which smell was stronger and you couldn't help but crouch into a corner as they tied you up and let your head rest against your knees.

The villagers gawked at you like you were a specimen on display as you turned into that bear, but the restrains that were holding you still were stronger than your bear form, and you couldn't break them, no matter how hard you tried to free yourself.

Geralt hated the tavern, he hated the village and the villagers that lived in it, but when he needed the ale, his hatred was forgotten. He had a lot running through his mind as he drank the last of his ale, and turned towards one of the windows in the tavern. The sky had turned a pale orange, and within the next few minutes to an hour, the sun would be gracing the world. He wondered if you were still in the shack, or you were out running in the forest somewhere. The images of the impaled and clawed out corpses came spiralling into his mind, and his grip on the pitcher almost tightened in reflex.

He was almost about to leave, when Jaskier pushed open the door, his panic stricken eyes scanning the interiors of the tavern until his eyes spotted the white haired man. He pushed a man aside, making his way towards him.

"Geralt, listen–"

"Not now, Jaskier," Geralt growled at him, his eyes glowing with anger.

Jaskier lowered himself into the chair opposite the Witcher and just looked at him, exasperated.

"Aren't you just one bit concerned on [Y/N]'s wellbeing? You're getting yourself drunk, and the villagers are planning to kill her for something she hasn't even done–" Jaskier added.

"the villagers know what they are doing," Geralt took a deep breath, shifting his gaze from Jaskier, and staring idly at the sun that was now rising.

"You what? You–" Jaskier fumbled; he couldn't believe his ears. "They poisoned you too, didn't they?"

"I saw those bodies, Jaskier," Geralt stood up, his chair noisily clattering against the cold floor of the tavern. Ignoring Jaskier, who was now sitting with his palms curled into tight fists, he made his way to the tavern owner, shelling out his pouch of coins. He pulled out the coins and placed them on the counter, and without glancing back at Jaskier, he began walking out when Jaskier came running towards him, and began following him.

"I don't want to be a part of this, Jaskier."

"Listen to yourself, Geralt. That's [Y/N]. She is being framed. I know it in my heart, she cannot do this, please Geralt. They will kill her and once you come back to your senses, it will kill you."

Geralt grunted under his breath as his palm swiped over his jaw. He stiffened as he heard a few villagers began speed walking towards the right, and Geralt frowned, grabbing one of them by their collar.

"Get your hands off me, Witcher. What the fuck–"

"Where are the villagers going?" Geralt grumbled.

"Why? To the market of course. That cursed bitch is to be publicly killed for the murders of our children–" he pulled his shirt off the Witcher's grip, and without giving him another glance, he joined the other villagers and they walked off.

"Wake the fuck up, you monster, and get your tits off the floor," someone threw you an old looking dress, and you opened your eyes to the commotion around you, only to realize that the villagers were all standing outside your cell. You sat up, hurriedly pushing yourself to the wall as you brought your knees up to cover your breasts. You hurriedly reached for that torn dress they had given you; for something was better than nothing, and your own dress was now nothing but pieces of torn fabric strewn here and there. You pulled it over your head, bringing it down to your body, when someone grabbed your arm and pulled you up.

"Can't wait to finally get rid of you, you Satan's spawn," one of them spat on the floor just next to your feet, as one of them began walking out, your chain in his hands. The other one held you by your arm, yanking you to move out and you had no choice.

"Why?" You whispered, your eyes already beginning to cloud with your tears, your eyes widened in fear as you stepped out of your cell and the men began walking out.

Outside, it felt like the entire village had gathered just to watch what was going to happen to you. The looks on their faces were far from sympathetic, there was hate in their eyes and you closed your eyes and let out a cry, as a stone hit the side of your face, just beneath your temple and blood started oozing out of the cut the stone had given you. The villagers were now chanting the words 'kill the beast' again and again, as you were being pushed through the crowds.

The realization was beginning to sink in, as blood trickled down your temple; your heart raced mercilessly. This was the end, it finally was. You couldn't help but think of Geralt as you walked with them, you wondered where he was and if he cared enough. The fight last night had been strange but even stranger was the fact that he wasn't here to save you from these people today.

Even bigger was the realization and the hurt that arose as a result of it; that Geralt too thought of you as a monster. Maybe you deserved this.

"fucking bitch," someone yelled from the crowd, and just then, a massive stone was hurled at you, right at your face, hitting you square in the jaw. Your body twisted when it hit you, your face falling to your right as the pain grew. Your face felt like it was on fire. When you looked up, you realized that you were standing alone; so hopelessly alone, and the villagers all stared at you with venom laced in their eyes. Their leader or whoever this man in the front was, had his sword drawn out as he spat, "any last wishes, you monster?"

You closed your eyes, your body giving up, when you heard the galloping of a horse. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Roach pushing her way through the crowd; though technically the people were moving out of her way , for they didn't want to get crushed under its legs. Geralt's white hair flew due to the wind, and his lips were pressed together, as Roach galloped towards you. When Geralt was close enough, he suddenly flung himself to his side, his legs still secured by the saddle as he grabbed you by your waist and flung you up onto the moving mare.

Angry cries of disdains and yells sounded from behind you, but you weren't looking. Your eyes were fixed on Geralt, as you were clinging on him for life, but he was looking straight ahead, as Roach galloped away.

The air hit your face like ice lollies, and Geralt's body felt nothing like the warmth it always gave you. Although you were now sat in front of him on the mare, the distance between you two felt like two ends of a river bank.

Finally, the mare lowered it's pace as it came to a halt and you squinted your eyes only to realise that you were now on the outskirts of the city, on the other side of the forest.

"Get down," Geralt's cold voice said.

Without a word, you got down, and following you, Geralt hopped off Roach.

"Geralt," you mumbled.

"Leave this village. Go anywhere. I won't be around to always save you from them."

You looked at the man's sublime face. The sun shone down on him, making him look even radiant than he already was. You bit your lip, your face contorted in hurt as you nodded and ran your hand across the side of your face to straighten your ruffled up hair.

Geralt turned away without saying another word ad he began climbing on Roach's back once more but your words stopped him,"Just why Geralt? What did I do wrong?"

He turned but not completely. It was like he couldn't bear the sight of you any longer.

"You're a monster, and the next time, I don't think I will be the one saving you."

You blinked, watching him ride away, his fiery white hair flowing with the wind, his shoulders tense, until he was out of sight.

Henry Cavill All Characters Taglist + Bear Taglist:

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#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x reader #the witcher #henry cavill x reader

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

COSMIC - S3:E3; Chapter Three, The Case Of The Missing Lifeguard - [Pt. 5]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

𝘌𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘋&𝘋. 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴��𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦.

⚠️: Castle Byers scene. Meaning lots of angst, self destructive thinking, and misguided self punishing

📝: Started making it... had a break down [fr tho]... ¯\_( ツ)_/¯ bon appetite! 👩‍🍳 [edit: told ya 💀]

🔑: underlined and bold means they're talking in Russian

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Warm rain spits from the angry blanket of clouds, falling through the sky and drenching Mike and Lucas to the bone despite their rain gear. Mud splashed up onto their ankles and drenching their socks as their bikes skid up the Byers driveway. Without a thought, they throw their bikes into the ground before racing up onto Will's porch.

It had taken far longer than they cared to admit to decide to go and find Will. To make things right.

Mike was realizing far too late just how right Will was. He didn't even recognize himself anymore. El had become such an important piece of his life, but he hadnt realized until now just how much he let his feelings screw up all the wonderful things he had in his life to begin with. He missed how things used to be. With the party. With Y/n.

With Will.

All the anger he feels towards himself is channeled into his fist banging on Will's front door.

"Will!" He cries. "Will, I'm sorry, man, alright? I was being a total asshole. I've been a total asshole. Please, can you just come outside and we'll talk?"

No answer but the thundering clouds rolling over their heads. He pounds on the door again.

"Will!"

Lucas hurries to the window, cupping his palms against the glass and peering inside. He knocks on the window, doing his best to peer around the curtains and furniture obscuring his sight.

"Hey, Will! Come on, man! We're sorry!" He knocks again, growing nervous. "Will!"

||𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

'Sorry, man. Curfew,'

'For the last time, Will! No!'

-'What, so I should be locked up all day, too?'

-'Maybe!'

Huffing, I throw the wrinkling comic book into the old mattress. Nothing was working. Nothing was enough to distract me. I was too angry.

I looked down at the withered cover of the comic book I had just thrown, my chest sinking further. Dustin's X-MEN 134, he gave it to me after that night at the hospital.

Thinking about it now, I can't even remember the last time all seven of us hung out as a party. I don't count Dustin's welcome home. Mike and El couldn't be bothered to pretend to care, and Lucas and Max kept ganging up on Dustin. Dustin was understandably upset and not wanting anything to do with us, leaving just me and Y/n. And now, not even her.

How did everything get so messed up?

What was I doing wrong?

I looked around the walls of Castle Byers, a lump forming in my throat. Everywhere I looked, I was painfully reminded of the truth.

My friends don't want me anymore.

I keep telling myself that's bullshit, but the more I do the more it feels like a lie.

They're moving on without me.

Friends don't just forget you, I reasoned. They don't just abandon you.

Then why were they doing just that?

Maybe they weren't my real friends. Friend's don't do what they did.

Everything hurts. I've been telling myself I'm fine, that I'm overreacting but I don't think I am anymore. I'm just tired. I'm tried of feeling like this. I'm tired of being pushed aside, especially when I need them most.

They didn't use to be like this, I tell myself. But somehow that just hurts more.

I had people that cared about me, who were willing to risk their lives to save me. Twice.

And now they don't give me a second thought.

I was shaking now, but I don't think it's from the rain. The storm had finally reached me, seeping through the walls and dampening my clothes and hair.

Another painful realization hits me; Castle Byers looked just like it had the night I built it with Jonathan.

Even though this night was so much like the night Castle Byers was constructed, it couldn't feel more different. More unfamiliar.

My teary eyes find my first D&D manual, propped up against the wooden walls, soaked and forgotten like me. I'm painfully reminded of the night all this started.

I remember it as clear as if it were yesterday, and yet it feels light-years away.

'Something is coming. Something hungry for blood.'

《•••》

"What is it?" I ask, edging further off my seat.

This time it's Dustin who cuts in, "What if it's the Demogorgon?"

Oh, great, I think, throwing myself back in my seat with an anxious huff. We're not ready to face a Demogorgon!

Beside me, Y/n draws in an equally anxious breath.

"Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." Dustin rambles on.

"It's not the Demogorgon." Lucas says, assuring us all.

《•••》

My eyes trail to one of my favorite drawings; Will The Wise and Y/C/N. The one I had made when Y/n was first constructing her character. The one that hung in my room for so long, always cheering me up. The one that gave my mom the idea to help me communicate my now memories.

The one that Y/n always threatened to steal for her room as often and as recently as her last visit. The memory of her warm touch lingering on my cheeks burned as bright as the blush raging over me that night so long ago.

'Wait a minute... Did you guys hear that?'

《•••》

The anticipated silence in the basement left by Mike grew louder as he leaned in.

"Boom..." His voice grows louder. "Boom," Louder.

"BOOM!" Mike bellows, slamming his hands against the flat surface, rattling the table and all its contents.

The sudden noise was enough to make me and my friends jump, as was the sudden hand grabbing for my own.

All the more startled, I look down to see Y/n's hand grasping my arm like a lifeline. I feel my skin flush, my cheeks surely reddened as I catch her eye. She looked flustered, smiling a small smile before retracting her hand and returning to the game, unknowingly leaving me in a dizzying blush.

•••

"Will, your action!"

"Fireball!" I cry, throwing the dice to the board with a satisfying rattle.

"FOURTEEN!"

My friends erupt into cheers, all around me as we celebrate together.

"BOOM!"

"Direct hit!" Mike cries, beaming proudly at me across the table. "Will the Wise's fireball hits the Thessalhydra!"

Our excited shouts fill the basement, each and every one of us victorious. My smile can't get any wider when I feel Y/n's hands grip my shoulder and begin shaking me excitedly. We both laugh, feeling on top of the world with our cheering friends by our side.

《•••》

Pained, I look away only to find the proof right in front of my eyes. My three favorite pictures; all of them, my friends and me — happy — staring back up at me.

Our photo from the science fair, encased in the popsicle frame Mike had made bearing all of our characters' names along the side. I brought it here, I brought all my favorite pictures here, to Castle Byers — to my safe place — cause that's where I knew I would need their comfort the most.

But as I look at them now, all I feel is bitterness and pain. I'm reminded of just how much everything has changed.

The science fair was a reminder of the good thing I had before that night. Before everything started.

Y/n and me, at the Snow Ball. My arm wrapped around her, the two of us grinning nervously. It wasn't just the night Y/n and I had first kissed, it was also the first night I felt like the Party had gotten bigger. All of us, Max and El included had been happy. Everyone was laughing and getting along, the happiest we had ever been — the strongest. But now I see it was really the beginning of the end.

It had been coming for so long and I didn't even see it.

And Halloween. Last Halloween, everything had been perfect. For just one. Single. Stupid. Moment.

Shakily, I pick up the photo Jonathan had taken of all of us in our costumes. We were all smiling.

We were all happy.

'Who you gonna call?'

《•••》

I beam as I see my friends pulling up, looking just as excited as I felt.

"Ghostbusters!" I finish, watching as they look me over, happily surprised.

"Hey, Spengler!"

"Egon! Looking sharp!" Y/n grinned, pulling me into a quick hug.

"Janine!" I beam. "Venkman!"

《•••》

As I look at it now, my eyes and throat stinging as Mike's voice echoes louder than ever in my mind.

'I mean, what did you think, really?'

What was I thinking?

'That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day, playing games for the rest of our lives?'

How could I have been so naive?

'it's not my fault you can't move on!'

How could I have been so... so...

"Stupid." I tell myself, my voice splitting in my throat. "So stupid!"

My hands trembling violently with rage and my own sobs, I tear the photo in two.

I was stupid. Stupid to believe I was as big of a priority to them as they were to me.

I rip the drawing off the walls, tearing it to pieces.

Stupid to ever think they'd still cared about me.

I rip and tear and crumple up every meaningful piece of them in an act of defiance.

They won't care. I think bitterly. They won't miss these, they probably won't even notice. Not like I would have.

I grab my bat.

How could I be so fucking stupid?!

Why was I hanging on to all this stuff anyway? Why was I clinging so tightly to something that was already gone?

Because I've been stupid. I'm just some stupid kid that won't grow up.

I storm out of the tent.

I'm just some stupid kid who can't grow up. They made that perfectly clear.

I stand in the pouring rain now, heart thundering in my chest as I stare at the piece of my childhood I couldn't let go of.

So. Stupid.

And I start swinging.

I swing and I swing, with an anger and frustration I've never felt so intensely until now. It's been building my whole life and I didn't realize it. Every swing is simultaneously the best and the worst I've ever felt. Every slur I've heard from my dad, from Troy, is channeled into the bat. Every ounce of frustration and fear I felt since I came back from the Upside Down that nobody understood. Every laugh, every jeer, every single moment I've felt alone is channeled into the destruction of the one place on this earth I ever felt safe.

But it holds up and in the back of my mind, I hear Jonathan again.

'And it took so long cause you were so bad at hammering'

And I start kicking, and I start ripping the walls apart until it's a crumpled heap and I stop.

The sight of Castle Byers in ruins breaks me even harder.

I didn't want it gone, but I did it anyway. That part of me that was angry at myself, told me to keep going. Cause that's what I deserved for believing things could stay the same even though deep down I knew that wasn't true.

I finally stop when I see the castle in ruins.

Exhausted, I collapse to the ground beside the wreckage.

As I sob, stewing in the pain and overwhelming grief I felt I was drowning in, the rain pours heavily over me, soaking me to the bone.

Just as it had the night it had been built.

And now, Castle Byers was gone.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

When blue meets yellow in the west.

8:41 pm. It was almost time.

The yellow and blue clock hands were illuminated by a flash of lightning, streaking through the mall's skylight. Starcourt had long since closed, and the real activity was just beginning.

Stationed at the loading docks near the back, standing under the worst storm Hawkins had seen in years were two guards. They watched through the downpour as the scheduled truck backed its way under the concrete cover.

And perched on the roof, just out of sight sat Dustin, Steve, and Robin, scouting from under their rain slickers.

"Look for Imperial Panda and Kauffman Shoes," she reminds them.

Steve wipes away at the rain dripping into his eyes, squinting even further to get a clear picture Dustin already has.

A man in a bright yellow raincoat emerges from a hidden side door, a trolley cart full of packages marked with a familiar insignia.

"They're with that whistling guy!" Dustin says suddenly, motioning out from behind the only pair of binoculars.

"What do you think's in there?" Steve wonders, eyeing the Lynx logo on the back of their many yellow jackets.

"Guns? Bombs?"

"Chemical weapons?" Robin tries.

"Whatever it is," Dustin says, now cautiously studying the heavily armed guards. He had to admit to himself, they really weren't trying very hard not to be obvious. "they're armed to the teeth."

"Great," comes Steve's sarcastic voice, once again rubbing at his eyes, silently wishing he had brought a coat with a hood. "That's great."

A soft clink that would have been obnoxiously loud had it not been for the noise of the storm brings their attention to another guard. Having pressed a glowing button on a small control panel, two large metal doors swung open to reveal another room.

"Hey!" Robin says, squinting through the rain as she tries to get a glimpse without the binoculars. "What's in there?"

"It's just more boxes,"

"Let me check it out," Steve says, grabbing for the binoculars.

Huffing, Dustin fought to keep his grip on the binoculars. "No, I'm still looking!"

"Lemme see it!"

"Hang on!"

Steve's grip had loosened with the slick of rain, sending the binoculars knocking into the cement. The issue had already been forgotten when they saw the guards' attention had been stolen. Simultaneously, the three of them dove to the ground in a panic.

The guards began to pace, grip on their firearms tightening as they gaze out into the night. Seeing nothing but empty roofs and angry skies above them, they unknowingly miss the trio huddled against the roof wall.

Just out of sight to the right of Dustin, Steve and Robin sat panting as they try to calm their racing hearts. Way too close a call. And neither of them had realized what they had done until their eyes landed on their entertained hands. Just as quickly as they notice, they break apart, embarrassed.

Down below, the guards were now on high alert. One of them, unable to shake the feeling of being watched, stalked into the rain with his eyes deadset on an open spot on the roof. He was certain he heard the noise come from that direction.

"Stay here!" He orders to the other. "Watch the door!"

Reluctantly, his partner complies and inches back towards the doors.

When he finally reaches the top of the stairwell, he hesitates only a moment before he throws the roof door open, gun cocked.

But he was met only with steady claps of thunder and an empty roof.

Had he been wrong?

Or had he just missed whoever had been here?

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Clothes drenched, their shoes sloshing underneath their feet like sponges, Steve, Robin, and Dustin slip out from the shadows and make their way throughout the back halls behind the scenes of Starcourt.

"Well, I think we sound your Russians," Robin quips.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Black Trans Travel Fund:

For The Gworls:

"The Black Trans Travel Fund is a grassroots, Black Trans led Collective, providing Black Transgender Women with financial and material resources needed to remove barriers to self-determining and accessing safer travel options"

Trans Women Of Color Collective Fund

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Founded by a Black transgender woman and a Black nonbinary person, For The Gworls raises money to help provide funds for rent and gender affirming surgeries for Black transgender people across the country."

Taglist:

@dickkwad @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa @miscellaneoustoasts @happyandlonely-blog @peeperparkour @ba-responds @bibliophilesquared @blogforhoes @witch-of-all-things-soft @shawkneecaps @whothefuckstolemykeds @daughter-of-the-stars11 @stranger-things4 @kpopanimegirl @nightbu-g @lozzybowe @gizmofishersupremacy @spiderbitch69420

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

#cosmic #cosmic 3 #will byers x reader #will byers x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things 3 #the case of the missing lifeguard #3x03

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hotchley · 3 years

Text

that’s when i could finally breathe

Me: oh yeah, I am definitely going on a fanfic writing break. Also me: this.

As always, I have no idea what I’ve done. I really was taking a break, but then I was listening to Clean and... this happened. All of my pieces have been weirdly cathartic, and I think this one was just like: HAHA PROJECTION!!

I also did not proofread this, and wrote it in one day, so... do with that what you will :)

Also, do not comment on my inability to come up with decent titles. I know. I know this is a terrible title, but I HAD NO BETTER IDEAS OKAY!!!

Word Count: 2289

Trigger Warnings: child abuse, funerals, death, past suicidal thoughts, grief, self-destructive behaviour (Hotch does not pull his hair out, but he does have thoughts about doing so)

read on ao3!

He has always found a sense of peace in the rain.

Where other people would run to try and find shelter, Aaron has always loved to just stand and let it soak through his clothes to his skin, chilling his bones and body. Haley had found it endearing as a teenager.

As an adult, it had concerned her.

He could tell her it was nothing till he was blue in the face, but there was a sense of panic that came with looking out the window to see the clouds weeping, combined with her husband’s lack of presence in their apartment.

More than once, he would come home, shivering and teeth chattering, but smiling. She would force him to change, to wrap himself in a blanket, but he would usually be too dazed to do so without her assistance. He caught a cold more than once.

Jack has inherited his love for the rain. His love, like everything else about him, is childish and innocent though. A love for jumping in puddles and splashing his parents. A fascination with the different types of weather, and a love for the yellow coat that has a duck on the hood that was a gift from Penelope.

Aaron’s love for the rain can be described in one word. The same word Haley has always used to describe the way he loves everything. His love for the rain is complex. It is born from the best and worst moments of his life.

His love for the rain comes from the little boy that wore his heart on his sleeve. Who wanted nothing more than to turn the terrible things that happened into a story, and who just wanted to use his brain to find a reason for all the bad things that seemed to keep happening.

It rained the day of his father’s funeral. His mother and Sean shared an umbrella. Haley tried to get him to stand under hers, but he refused, choosing to stand in it, letting it numb the fire in his stomach. He didn’t shed any tears at the funeral. He had already mourned the death of his father. He had mourned when he was eleven, and learnt that his father did not love him. Not in the way he was meant to. Not in a way that was right.

The rain made it look like he was crying. It soaked his hair and dripped onto the collar of his coat, and when his uncle drove him and the last people that knew the truth about Mr Hotchner, his mother seemed to realise what he had been doing. She chastised him, but it was weak and with no real threat.

Aaron would confess to Haley, months later, that the rain had made him feel like he was being listened to. Like the God he had stopped believing in believed his father was a bad man, and the rain had been to disrupt the final event where anyone would truly care for him. The rain made him feel like there was a happy ending at the end of the tunnel waiting for him.

It made him feel like he could breathe again.

When Haley kissed him for the first time, it was raining. They had been running home from their date, not expecting the summer night to turn out like that, and he had paused because of the stitch in his side.

She had turned around, laughing hysterically because of course this had happened. Of course their first date, which she had spent hours preparing for, Jessica styling her hair and convincing her the dress she had picked was perfect, ended in rain. With her hair coming loose from the pins she had slid into it. With Aaron’s shirt plastered to his skin. If she had stepped close enough, she could almost see the scars on his back.

She wouldn’t ask though. Not today.

He looked at her, slightly apologetic, and she was once again struck by just how pretty he was. His eyelashes were longer than she had first realised, and the rain seemed to drip off of them in a way she had only ever seen in the movies.

His hair was an untamed mess. Her heart had dropped a little when he rang her doorbell, because she liked the chaos of his usual style, and seeing it without a hair out of place made her feel like he was trying to be a different person. The rain had ruined it all though, and it now fell onto his forehead and stuck to his face in a way she loved.

To everyone else in their little town, he likely looked like the villain. Like the demon creeping in through the window to steal the beautiful princess away to their terrible castle. But Haley is not everyone else. And to her, Aaron looks like the dashing prince, ready to save the heroine from the terrible prejudice of her home.

So when he opened his mouth, probably to ask her if everything was okay, she took a step forward, placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him. It was messy and wet and awkward, but it was their first. And it was special.

Her cheeks were flushed when she pulled away. Aaron just stared at her for a few moments, something like panic written all over his face. But then that panic gave way to something else, and Haley felt like she was watching someone realise they were in love.

It was more beautiful than she could’ve ever imagined.

He smiled at her, still bashful after the events of the evening, and held his arm out to her. She took it, allowing him to walk her all the way to her front door, where he placed a single kiss to her cheek.

He laughed, once he was out of her line of sight. He laughed, and he ran through the puddles, splashing the water everywhere, and he let out loud cheers because the night was silent and only the stars were there to keep him company.

Haley Brooks liked him. No. She loved him.

It made him feel like he could live again.

The moment he felt clean, like the blood had been washed from his hands, like he could breathe again, like he could exist and not feel like there had been some massive mistake, it was raining. Haley had been dead for six months, and it had been six brutal months of cases, of processing his grief, of shutting down in front of the team.

Of teaching Jack that being sad was part of life, and that being happy did not mean he was forgetting Mom, or a terrible person. Of wishing there was someone to hold his hand, just for a moment.

Of flashing Jessica little smiles, because he had lost the first woman to love him the way love was supposed to be, but Jessica had lost her baby sister, and nothing was ever going to bring her back to life. Not his own self-destruction. Not his guilt. Not his pain. Not the way he threw himself into cases that caused the ink to blur before his eyes.

Not the way he was trying so hard to teach his son exactly what love was so he would grow up unafraid to jump in head first, and would always believe in its existence.

Jessica asked if Jack could stay with her for a few days. She had a break in between one project finishing and the next starting, and she was going to use it to look at some of the things Haley had left at her house. Aaron was yet to deal with the things in the house and in storage. He just couldn’t do it.

But Jessica wanted to start, and she wanted Jack to see some of the things. He spoke to Jack, and Jack’s therapist, about the trip, and when both people signed off on it, he packed his son a bag and dropped his son off at his aunt’s for the weekend.

The quietness of the apartment had a greater impact on him than he thought it would’ve. He had gotten used to the sound of Jack racing around. Of Jessica washing dishes. Of their quiet existences that left a mark on every inch on every wall of the convenient location that had somehow evolved into a home- something he thought he’d lost forever when Anderson handed him the divorce papers.

He couldn’t handle the silence. It was suffocating. It reminded him of his childhood house, and of walking on eggshells. It reminded him of the thirty-four days he felt in silence, recovering from stab wounds he wished had killed him, and mourning the loss of his family.

So he drives. And he drives. And he drives.

And he somehow finds himself at Gideon’s cabin. He’d only been there twice since he left the team. Once to pick Reid up once he had the strength to phone and say that he’d found a letter, but he didn’t know what he was meant to do, but Gideon was gone and he didn’t know why everyone always left. Once to pick Rossi up, after the case with the three children that ended with no real sort of justice.

Gideon left him a key. It was in the drawer of his desk, with no explanation. No letter. No apology. Hotch had taken it, and attached it to the keyring that held his house keys. He’d never used it though.

Not before now.

Because that day, when he goes to Gideon’s cabin, he lets himself in. He walks through the different rooms, smiling at the small traces of his former mentor that still remain there, and the pieces of the other team members that have somehow found themselves a home in the various areas.

He exits out the back door.

Haley had taken him here once. After she found out she was pregnant, he was meant to step down and take a transfer. They’d had it all planned out. Then he’d gotten a phone call saying there was a case, and that case had been Adrian Bale so before he knew what was going on, he was pushed into the role of Unit Chief and trying to rebuild a team that was never meant to have been his.

She had taken him here to remind him of all the reasons he couldn’t leave. Of all the lives he would feel responsible for if he acted selfishly. And he had looked at her, with such love in his eyes, and agreed with her. It had been a quiet trip. A peaceful trip. A warm visit. They had been together, still the teenagers that linked hands during the final bows of their performance.

Haley was dead, and he was left to patch up his own pieces. The visit had been tense and silent, but the uncomfortable type, and even as he walked through the cabin, he wondered why exactly he had bothered coming here. He didn’t know what he was trying to achieve, or what he thought this was going to do. He just knew it was something he needed to do.

When he stepped back out into the woods that surrounded the cabin, the rain started.

He had never believed in signs, not truly, but this one was too big to be anything but that. It was pouring. Enough to cause the branches to sag with the weight of water. Enough to create proper puddles that could be jumped in. Enough to remind him of the first time Haley had kissed him, and how that simple touch had brought him back to life. Enough to remind him of his father’s funeral, and how the feel of the cold had reminded he had no longer had to be afraid.

It was loud enough to drown out the sounds of people.

He had one chance to do this. One chance to see whether or not his love for the rain would still help him the way it always had.

He screamed. He fell to his knees, and he fisted his hands in his hair. He didn’t pull it out, but he tugged at it, and Haley wasn’t there to grip his hands till he could trust himself.

He screamed. And he cried. And he begged for an answer. And he shoved his blazer off, not even caring that his trousers were stained with mud that would likely never come out, and not giving a damn about the cold.

He screamed. Until his throat went dry and his words seemed to fade into nothing, not only because the rain swallowed his noises, but because he couldn’t be loud.

He screamed until he was soaked and the rain had caused him to go numb and start shivering.

And then he turned around and walked back inside. As he passed the bathroom, something caught his eye. A towel he had thought he had just misplaced whilst on a case, and a hoodie he’d assumed he’d given to Sean and forgotten about. Almost like Gideon had guessed what he would be doing here, and wanted to apologise for what he had done.

Haley would not want him to get sick. Neither would Jessica. Neither would the team. Neither would Jack.

So he went into the bathroom, and he dried himself off, and he zipped the hoodie up. And then he took a final look around the cabin. He smiled to himself, knowing that, no matter what happens, the team will always have this as their safe haven.

He drives home, despite the rain.

It makes him feel like he could love again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #jason gideon #hurt hotch #hotch angst #tw death #tw child abuse #tw grief #tw self destruction #tw past suicidal thoughts #sumayyah writes cm

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liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Daddy Jars

Part 5 of the Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: You should really watch what you say around Millie, everything can backfire.

Warnings: cursing, fluff, lots of fluff, bit of angst too, nightmares... yeah this is a big one

Word Count: 4k words

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: idk if i should be saying "this isn't what it sounds like" or "this is exactly what it sounds like". also, y’all aren’t ready for this.

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

During the next few weeks, a routine was put in place.

Tom woke up at 5 every morning, went for a run with Tessa, came back to the house, got dressed for the day, and woke Millie up.

Then while the little one got dressed, ("I'm a big girl, Tommy, I wanna choose my clothes") he woke you up so that the three of you could have breakfast together.

Then, while Tom spent his morning locked in his office, juggling video calls and checking up on his men, you took advantage of that time to homeschool your daughter.

She wanted to learn how to read, so you started to teach her. She was making progress and could recognize most of the sounds now, and you were starting to introduce her to words, moving slowly and surely.

Then you all ate lunch together and spent the afternoon in his office. Tom did some paperwork, Millie sat (read: slept) in his lap or made some more artwork to put in his office, and you read, sometimes out loud when he needed a small break and just needed to relax.

Today was one of those days. He got through the last of his paperwork and sighed, throwing his head back and sighing dramatically which made the little girl in his lap giggle.

"Tommy, I have a question."

"Yeah, darling?"

"When it's hot again can we go to the pool? I wanna go on the water slide!"

Because, as you'd found out last week, Tom's outdoor pool had a small water slide.

"Well, if you want, you can just go to the indoors one. The slide's a little smaller, but the water's nice and warm."

Her little eyes lit up and she straightened up on his lap so she was facing him.

"Really?"

"As long as your Mum's okay with it."

You looked down at your watch. It's been long enough since you ate, and she might fall asleep easier tonight.

"Okay, let's get ready then."

She cheered and held on tight to Tom, already knowing he'd carry her to her room. She was becoming a spoiled little thing, getting carried around everywhere, but the calm that took over the man's face when she was close was something you weren't prepared to risk. So you let him take your hand and pull the both of you towards the rooms, reluctantly letting go so you could change.

The pool was huge, to say the least. It was surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows, as was most of his house, and had a small waterslide that ended near the shallow part of the pool. Your daughter held on tightly to both of your hands, and eyed the slide happily, begging to be let on.

Tom took her to the top and the room was filled with her excited squeals as she slid down and landed in the pool, the floaties around her arms making sure she didn't drown.

While the two of them played, you laid down the towels on the chairs and sat down on one of them and went back to your book, lifting your eyes from time to time to look at the two of them.

Time for a nice and relaxing evening of reading.

Tom was freaking out.

He tried to focus on the little girl laughing and splashing in his pool, filling his heart with happiness every time he caught a glimpse of her smile, but that was a hard thing to do when the object of his affection was standing on the side of the pool wearing nothing but her bikini and looking like a full course meal.

His mind went back and forth between making Millie happy and unabashedly staring at you (not that you'd notice, he always looked away when you lifted your eyes from your book). It was getting tiring, trying to focus on the little brunette while all the blood in his body seemed to be going to his lower regions. He needed to figure something out, quickly.

"Hey, Angel, you want me to teach you how to swim?"

That seemed like a good idea. If he had to focus on her well-being, he couldn't think about how hot you looked and it's always useful to learn how to swim.

"But what if I can't stay on top of the water and I drown?"

"I'll hold you up, darling, don't worry. I won't let you get hurt."

She looked up at him through her lashes, a bit apprehensive nonetheless.

"Promise?"

He looked up from her to you, meeting your eyes for a brief second before looking back at the little one and smiling.

"I promise, nothing's gonna hurt as long as I'm around."

Although Millie was more focused on the fact that he wouldn't let her drown, you had caught the double meaning in his words, and found yourself spending much more time watching the two of them than reading.

It's when you found yourself reading the same paragraph four times without actually comprehending a single word that you decided to join them, all hopes of finishing the book long forgotten, not that you minded.

"How's it going, you two?"

Tom smiled at you, hands still firmly placed under your daughter's torso to keep her afloat.

"We got the leg movements down, arm movements as well, now we're just working on getting the two together and with a bit of practice, she should be good."

Her movements were still uncoordinated, and she was making slow progress in getting them to work in sync, but the smile never left his face, and encouragements kept making their way past his lips.

You slowly got into the pool, sighing contentedly as the warm water made contact with your skin, and walked over to them, the water reaching a little under your ribs.

Suddenly, Millie stopped moving and looked up.

"'M tired, can you carry me while you swim, please?"

Tom nodded and had her wrap her arms around his neck from behind, resting on his back while he did slow laps, making sure to keep his upper body well above water so she could breathe easily.

You joined them in making laps, but after a while decided to have a bit more fun. You took a deep breath and dived, swimming underneath the surface until you were close enough to poke at her right foot.

A squeal followed by a melodic laugh came from above and you poked her left foot, tickling it a bit until she got it away from your reach.

"Tommy, go fast, the pool monster's gonna get us."

A laugh came from him as well, before you noticed Millie's arms tightening and he sped up. You came up for air and smiled when you saw him stick his tongue out at you.

"Oh, it's on."

That's how Harrison found you, a little while later, playing catch and splashing each other as laughs filled the pool room. He smiled and took some pictures to send to Nikki before coming in.

"Okay, little fishies, time to get out, dinner's gonna be ready in a few."

"Uncle Haz!"

His heart swelled hearing the little one's call, straightening happily at the thought that he was definitely her favourite uncle. Tom swam to the edge and Millie put her arms up so Haz could pick her up and wrap her in her Moana-themed towel.

The brunette was about to get out of the pool as well when you came up behind him and pushed his head underwater, keeping it there for a couple of seconds before allowing him to come back up.

"I always win, darling."

You threw a smile his way before climbing out of the pool and wrapping your own towel around your body.

"I'm gonna get you for that, you mark my words."

"I'll be waiting!"

You took Millie from Harrison's arms and walked to your rooms so you could shower and get dressed for dinner, feeling Tom's eyes on you the whole time.

"Is this one of those 'hate to see you go, love to watch you walk away' moments?"

He made eye contact with his best friend.

"No, why would you say that?"

"Oh, apart from the fact that you're pretty much drooling? Those trunks do nothing to hide what your feeling, darling."

He said the last word mockingly and threw him his towel before walking away, still laughing ruefully while Tom did his best to conceal his... situation.

"...keep the change, you filthy animal..."

Your head was resting on Tom's shoulder, his arm around your shoulder, holding you close to his body. Millie was sitting in his lap, holding your hand in her right one while the left petted Tessa's head, completely focused on the movie playing on the big screen.

Ever since December started, movie nights were all about Christmas movies. It was the last Friday before Christmas and she had asked to watch the Home Alone movie.

Sam and Harry fell asleep ten minutes into the movie, exhausted from running errands all day, and Harrison wasn't much better, eyes blinking slowly until they remained closed for seconds at a time before opening again. You counted four more minutes of the movie and he was fast asleep.

You pressed yourself closer to the man next to you, feeling his arm tighten around your shoulders and his lips press a small kiss to the crown of your head. He started drawing circles on your upper arm and the soothing motion had you falling asleep within minutes.

When the movie ended, Tom was the only one left awake. He moved carefully so he could extract himself from his place and gently laid Millie down, making sure that Tessa stayed wide awake next to her.

He then picked you up as gently as he could and walked slowly to your room, partly not to wake you with brusque movements, partly so he could appreciate the feeling of holding you close. He eventually reached your room and gently laid you down on the bed, pulling the covers over you and making sure to properly tuck you in so you'd be comfortable.

He lowered his upper body until he could safely kiss your forehead, ignoring the part of him that wanted to just go for it and kiss you on the lips.

"Goodnight, my love."

He closed the door to the room as softly as he could and went back to the movie room only to find that Millie was sitting up, rubbing the sleep off her eyes and yawning adorably.

"What are you doing up, darling girl? I was gonna get you to bed."

"I was cold."

She lifted her arms up and he picked her up with an ease that only comes with the habit, setting her on his hip and rubbing her back while he climbed the stairs. Tessa followed suit, she'd been practically glued to the young one's side ever since they moved in and had no intention of leaving it.

The first thing he did when he entered her room was turn on the nightlight. The room filled with stars of different colours and he used them to get to the bed, where he pulled the covers away to set her down.

"Can you tell me a story?"

"Which one do you want?"

"The Princess and the Salt, please."

He took the book and read it to her, changing voices for each of the characters just like he knew she loved. It was a story he'd never read before, so he found himself quite surprised at the fact that the princesses only had a father and no mother.

"Tommy?"

She asked when he was finally done.

"Yes, Angel?"

"What's a daddy like?"

He stiffened up and measured his words carefully.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what are they for?"

"Well, um, a dad is kind of like a mum, but a man."

She furrowed her brows.

"But what do they do?"

He thought of how best to respond to that, opting to just remember everything his father did for him.

"Well, it's someone that will hold you close until you fall asleep. That'll make sure you eat and drink every day. That'll buy you clothes and toys so you can live a comfortable life. That'll play with you, and make sure that you're the most important thing in their lives. It's someone that'll do anything they can to make you happy, that'll love you unconditionally, and make sure you'll never get hurt."

He was pleased to find a tired smile on her face and brushed her curls back from her face.

"Goodnight, Angel."

He kissed her forehead and watched as her eyes closed.

"Goodnight, Daddy."

Well, fuck.

"Harrison! Sam! Harry! Get up we have a situation!"

The boys woke up with a start, clumsily moving to a fighting stance until they realized the 'situation' was Tom pacing in front of the movie screen.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?"

The blonde asked while the twins forced themselves to wake up.

"Millie called me Daddy."

He expected shock, excitement, hell, even anger, but certainly not what he got.

"So?"

That's it? Unimpressed stares?

"She called me Daddy. Me. She. Called. Me. Daddy."

"I ask again: so?"

He made a strangled noise and stared at them in disbelief.

"Are you not the least bit shocked? Millie's not my daughter!"

"Well, you sure act like her father."

Sam said, mather-of-factly.

"Why are you so worried about this anyway? Kids say dumb shit all the time."

He locked eyes with Harry.

"I don't wanna take her real father's place."

"Yeah, now the real reason?"

Harry glared back until he finally caved.

"I want it to mean something but I'm not sure it did."

He sat down on the couches and put his elbows on his knees, hands tugging at his hair in frustration.

"Why wouldn't it mean something?"

Sam's voice was a bit softer now, the same tone his mother always took when she was trying to calm him down.

"She asked what a daddy was and I basically told her everything Dad did, she was tired and we just talked about it..."

"That doesn't mean it loses its meaning completely."

"But it also doesn't mean it meant something."

They sighed until Haz stood up.

"You know what? Let's take a page out of her book."

He got up and walked out of the room, throwing a 'c'mon' their way when he saw they weren't following.

When they got to the kitchen, he took out two small jars along with a piece of paper, a pen, and some tape. When he was done he took a bag of Skittles and put them next to the now finished jars.

"Okay, this is pretty simple: there's the Definitely jar, for when she purposely calls you 'dad', and the Maybe jar, for when it's not sure. So when she's tired, sick, or when her judgment is otherwise affected, you put a skittle in the Maybe jar, every other time, you put one in the Definitely jar."

"And that'll help how?"

"Because that way when the Definitely jar is full and the maybe jar only has two or three candies inside, you'll get your head out of your ass and realize she sees you as a father just as much as you see her as a daughter."

He took the poorly made jars as well as the bag of Skittles and went back to his room, remembering to put one of the candies in the Maybe jar before falling asleep.

He woke with a start when he heard soft cries coming from Millie's room. He's never been so thankful for insisting on keeping the doors open than the moment he saw his little girl squirming on the bed, teddy bear on the floor, and holding the covers with a death grip with her eyes screwed shut.

"Millie, Millie, wake up Angel, wake up, it's just a dream."

"Daddy!"

She woke up with a start and clung to him as tight as she could, tears still falling from her eyes and sobs wracking her body.

"I'm here baby, I'm right here."

Her sobs must have been loud enough to wake you because the next thing he knew you were right next to them, rubbing her back and shushing her softly.

His eyes never stopped running around the room, looking for intruders, guns, laser sights, any threat, his breath matching the little girl's ragged ones because of his panicked state.

You felt his breathing come in sharp bursts and saw his eyes scan the room, over, and over, and over again until you finally realized what he was doing.

You turned his head towards you and took his hand in yours, pressing it to your chest and taking slow, exaggerated breaths until he eventually followed you and his breathing slowed, followed by Millie's.

"What did you dream about, Rosie?"

She shook her head and buried deeper into Tom's chest, holding onto him tightly.

"Was it a bad dream about Tommy?"

She took a second longer than what he would've liked to reply but nodded nonetheless.

"Did he get hurt?"

She nodded again and you took a shuddering breath.

"He got hurt like Auntie."

Your aunt's death was a shock. One second she was peacefully asleep and the next you were calling an ambulance to get her to a hospital. It was in the middle of the night so in Millie's perspective, she went to sleep one night and just didn't wake up again.

"But Tommy didn't get hurt, okay? He's still here, see?"

You took her hand and pressed it to his chest.

"You feel his heart going boom boom? That means he's not hurt, okay? He's fine, you're fine, everything's fine."

You continued to soothe them both with kind words and soft touches until Millie spoke up again.

"Can we all sleep together tonight, please?"

You were about to speak up but Tom beat you to it.

"Of course, darling girl, anything you want."

He kissed the crown of her head and the domesticity of it all took you by surprise. You didn't have much time to dwell on it though, because you were suddenly being pulled into his room.

You took it all in: the sleek design, dark colours that surprisingly pleased you quite a lot, and a big, fluffy-looking bed.

"You're all sweaty darling, let's clean you up so you can sleep comfortably, yeah?"

He then turned towards you and you were taken aback by the intensity of his gaze.

"Can you get her some underwear and a T-Shirt from my closet? The third drawer after the mirrors, it's where I keep my softest ones."

You nodded and quickly made your way to Millie's room to get her underwear before going into his closet.

The sight that greeted you was a confusing one, to say the least. The right side of the mirrored doors was completely empty, and a vanity was sitting across from them. It looked like someone had moved out and he hadn't had the time (or will) to move his clothes.

Your thoughts started running again but you forced yourself to just get the shirt and get out.

You're not together.

He doesn't owe you an explanation.

You can't be jealous of his past.

When you got to the bathroom, Millie was already in the tub. He had filled it with water and bubbles and was getting ready to wash her hair while she played with the bubbles in front of her.

"And then what happened?"

"Well, then we went to our doctor and he fixed it."

You set the clothes on the counter and made your way to them.

"What are you troublemakers plotting?"

"I was just telling her what happened the last time I broke my nose."

She nodded.

"He's super tough and he has a very good doctor so he can't die like Auntie did."

You smiled at his attempt to cheer her up and knelt down next to them. You wanted to wait until Millie was asleep but she was pretty distracted by the bubbles and you just couldn't take it anymore.

"Your room's pretty."

"Thanks, I changed it recently, it used to be a lot more cramped."

You looked at him from the corner of your eyes, hand unconsciously moving to your daughter's forehead to stop the soapy water to get to her eyes.

"Didn't have time to unpack everything yet?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Only half of your closet's full..."

He blushed bright red but didn't answer you.

You finished the bath and got Millie dressed in Tom's shirt.

"It's so soft and it smells like you!"

He smiled and picked her up again, then took your hand and led you back to the room.

The bed was as comfortable as you imagined, and thanks to the light coming in from the windows you could see Tom's face clearly. From her spot laying between the two of you, Millie poked Tom's bare stomach until he diverted his attention from you to her.

"Tell me a story?"

"Which one?"

"Make one up."

He took a deep breath.

"Once upon a time, there was a king. His people loved him, and the kingdom was prospering, but the king was lonely. You see, he had everything: money, pretty clothes, friends... but he didn't have a queen.

"One day, the king went to another kingdom and he met a woman. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was kind and loving, and her smile made his heart beat fast."

Your breath caught in your throat when you noticed he was looking at you.

"The woman had an amazing daughter. The daughter was pretty, fun, and she saw the good in the king, didn't believe he was bad, like people in that other kingdom did. The king fell in love with the woman and saw her daughter as his own. He wanted them to be his family..."

He trailed off and when he didn’t keep going, she spoke up.

"Did they become a family?"

He looked down at her, then back at you.

"I don't know. I still haven't finished reading the story."

She hummed and buried further into his chest.

"I hope they do."

"I hope so too."

She sighed and closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Mommy."

"Nighty-night, Rosie."

"Night, Daddy."

His breath hitched a fraction.

"Sweet dreams, Angel."

She was asleep within seconds, but you were awake, staring at each other in utter and complete awe.

"She, um, she started calling me that tonight."

"I know."

"You do?"

You gave him a small smile and nodded.

"It was bound to happen at some point. You're the closest thing she's ever had to a dad. But I can tell her to stop..."

You didn't miss the way his arms tightened around her.

"Or... We could just let her."

You raised an eyebrow and felt his hand come up to your waist to pull you closer.

"Do you remember when you asked me why Millie had a personalized room and you didn't?"

You nodded.

"This is why."

Oh.

So that's why half his closet was empty. And there's a vanity in it.

"I'm in it for the long run, darling, but it's ultimately your choice."

It's your choice.

Is this something you want?

Eating breakfast all together.

Going to church every Sunday.

Spending afternoons in his office.

Movie nights every Friday.

Hearing your daughter laugh with glee whenever he's around.

Give her a family.

Falling asleep next to the man that's looking at you like you hung the moon and all the stars.

The man you love.

There's really not much thinking to be done, is there?

Your hand came up to cup his cheek and your lips met his in a soft kiss.

"Goodnight, Tommy."

You felt his smile, lips still close enough for it.

"Goodnight, Starlight."

okay i finally know for sure how this story’s gonna end! not entirely sure how exaactly i’m gonna get it here, but i’ll figure it out eventually.

as always, don’t forget to like/comment/reblog if you feel like it, i love hearing from you guys <3

love, Libby

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mischiefandi · 4 years

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Prom? - Peter Parker

A/N: sooo, it’s been a hot minute since my last fic on this blog haha, and by hot minute, I mean over a year and a half hahaha (not counting my drake fic). This also happens to be my very first Peter Parker one-shot, so I really hope you guys enjoy it!

Summary: Peter wants to ask Y/N to go to prom with him, but will it go as planned?

Warnings: it’s pretty fluffy ngl

Word Count: 4,3k

“Y/N, wait up!” Y/N whirled around instantly at the sound of the familiar voice calling out her name.

The corners of her lips quickly quirked up when her eyes rested on her best friend, Peter. He was running towards her, his backpack jumping up and down against his back as he leapt across the hall and past the lockers to catch up with her. His eyes met hers, a bright smile on his face.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” she asked him, glancing at his obviously mismatched socks peeking out from under his pants and disheveled hair.

“Uh, yeah, not really. Ned and I stayed up really late to finish building the Lego Death Star.”

“How’s it looking?”

“She is officially up and running- I mean obviously not- up and running, I mean, it’s just a bunch of Legos- what I’m trying to say is-,”

“-Peter?”

“Yeah?” he asked, lips slightly parted, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Why are you rambling? You only ramble when you’re really nervous about something,” said Y/N, smiling tentatively at her friend.

“I’m not rambling? Why would you say I’m rambling?”

Walking alongside Y/N and passing by the brightly-colored prom posters plastered on the walls, Peter looked down at the floor and she laughed, the angelic sound turning the color of his cheeks to a deep shade of red. He was nervous. Truth be told, she had always had that effect on him. Making him blush and stutter was something she did a lot more than she noticed. But he was more nervous than usual that day. Prom was right around the corner, and the students of Midtown High had been asking their significant others to the dance. Almost everyone had a date at this point. Except for Peter, and hopefully, Y/N.

Y/N chose to ignore her friend’s anxious antics and spoke again, her skirt twirling a bit as she danced ahead of Peter, still facing him. His pulse quickened at the sight of her. She truly was the most gorgeous girl in the world, at least in his eyes. She always wore sweet dresses and skirts, and she was never seen without two little hair clips in her gorgeous hair. She didn’t wear makeup aside from a light shade of pink lightly applied to her soft lips by her delicate fingertips. Her eyes sparkled with joy everywhere she went. She was sunshine. She was his sunshine. Or at least, he wholeheartedly wished she was.

“I had lunch with Tobias and Jessie. It wasn’t half as fun as building a toy spaceship would have been but-”

“-it’s not a spaceship Y/N! We’ve talked about this,” he whined with a smile tugging at his lips and she burst out laughing before hooking her arm around his own and kept walking, dropping her voice to a lower tone.

“I’m just messing with you, Parker.”

Her breath hit his neck and every single hair on his body raised at the warm feeling, his muscles tensing as she held onto his arm and swung it a little on their way to History.

It was moments like these, harmless to her but so utterly overwhelming to him, where he wished the simple action meant the same thing to the both of them. Where he wished her heart fluttered when she saw him run towards her, where he wished she was holding onto him because the idea of not feeling his touch was simply unthinkable.

Moments like these, he wanted nothing more than to lower his lips to hers and kiss her in front of everyone. They didn’t matter. Only she did.

“When do you go home? I always confuse Ned’s timetable with yours,” said Y/N, furrowing her brow.

“I-uh- have History with you and then Calculus right after.”

“Ha! Sucks to be you! After this, I am done for the day, and thank God too ‘cause I’m exhausted!” she added with a sing-songy voice.

Peter rolled his eyes at her but grinned from ear to ear as she rushed into the classroom, his body feeling light as air. A feeling that was about to disappear in just a matter of seconds.

“Oh my god Toby-…”

Inside the classroom, a dozen students stood next to Tobias who was holding a bouquet of pink roses in his hands, a dorky smile splashed across his face. Peter’s heart sank as he glanced at Y/N. She looked completely dumbstruck as the crowd held up a large poster with the words : “WiLL YoU Be mY DaTe To PrOm?” written in bright purple glitter letters.

Peter suddenly felt like melting into the ground and disappearing, the harrowing reality striking him. She was going to prom with Tobias and he was a fool. Squeezing past the students who had gathered around to watch the promposal unravel, the distraught boy slid out of the classroom and walked past the lockers.

An eruption of cheers coming from inside the class made his heart throb and he shut his eyes, accelerating his pace, knowing full well that what he had prayed wouldn’t happen, had.

Peter burst through the main doors of the school and stumbled down the stairs as he chewed on his lower lip, trying to inhale and exhale through his nose with serenity but failing miserably. He wasn’t going to admit it, not even to himself, but he was fighting tears right then and there. Ignoring the confused looks students were throwing him, he dashed down onto the sidewalk and turned a sharp left. Crossing the street, Peter ran towards the small alley by the dry cleaners and he stopped to catch his breath. He was probably going to get in trouble for skipping class, but he didn’t care. He needed to get away.

His eyes stung with emotion and he groaned out loud, weakly huffing before resuming his journey. After running past the dodgy trash cans and garbage, desperately trying not to inhale the unpleasant air engulfing him, he finally came to a halt and placed his backpack on the concrete ground. The strong smell of something rotting and other things he’d rather not think about filling his nostrils, Peter grimaced as he hurried to take off his blue sweatshirt and beige pants. Throwing his clothes in the backpack, Peter struggled to get into his spidey-suit, his shaking fingers making his task a little bit more difficult than usual.

The disguised teenager then spewed a web at his things, sticking them to the brick wall opposite him, looked up, and leapt. Closing his eyes, he felt his feet leave the ground and the wind blow against his suit-covered skin. He always embraced the feeling he got while jumping up into the sky, the sensation unparalleled, but this time, his thoughts were clouded by the cheers he had heard just minutes before.

Peter shook his head as he landed with a smooth flip, his breathing slightly ragged, and he resisted the urge to yank his mask off, knowing it was still too big a risk taking it off so close to the ground.

Again, he spewed webs all over the place, pulling and jumping and spinning around the towers and buildings that surrounded him. A few excited squeals could be heard as he flew above the crowded streets of New York but he didn’t bother stopping for a selfie. He needed to go somewhere quiet, somewhere he could be alone with his thoughts and his dejected self.

He found it soon enough.

It was the small fire escape he had spent most of his summer and early fall lunches at, calling Happy every single day to tell him what he had done around New York and to describe the crimes he had stopped. It was a place he knew well, a place he had gotten used to. His old faithful.

Peter huffed and rubbed the back of his neck after pulling off his tight mask, his hair messy and uncooperative. He tried to pass his fingers through the locks but his disheveled mop refused to set itself straight, so he gave up.

Looking out at the horizon, Peter gazed at the Manhattan skyline, the lines and corners of the buildings in front of him clashing with the sunlight. He had always loved this view. It wasn’t the best one in the city, but it was something, and it was his. You could still hear the cabs and the people down in the streets, but the sound was music to Peter’s ears, as was the sound of Y/N’s laugh, the sound of her voice.

Peter’s eyes welled up and he angrily rubbed at his them. Tobias was an idiot. He was. He liked baseball more than breathing and his stupid smirk made Peter’s blood boil. He wasn’t a bad boy, but he liked to pretend he was and that was something that annoyed Peter more than anything else. He seemed to think it was cool to say idiotic things, and he thought it was fun to smoke and drink cheap beer and wear a leather jacket. He was a walking cliché.

But…he was nice, and pretty funny once you got used to his sense of humor. And he was a decent chess player. He even liked Star Wars. He was a good guy, and that’s what Peter hated about this most of all.

Peter had liked Y/N for months, but he had always been so afraid of telling her how he felt. It was because he knew his awkward rambling would quickly turn him into a blabbering fool and he would hate himself for making his friend feel uncomfortable. But mostly, it was because he was terrified she didn’t feel the same way. It wasn’t just the obvious humiliation that scared him, it was the idea of losing the beautiful friendship he had with her. She was his everything, and losing her would hurt more than anything else.

As he gazed at the view, Peter thought back on the wonderful times he had spent with her since the beginning of the year.

They had met in that very same classroom in September. She was sitting in front of him, her back turned on him. He was absent-mindedly staring at the blackboard, his thoughts on something unimportant when she suddenly turned around and clapped her hands against his desk, bright yellow nail polish painted on her nails catching his eye.

“Do you have a highlighter I can borrow?” she asked, her voice smooth as honey.

Peter’s mind blanked, his eyes widening at the sight of her beautiful eyes, eyes he would often get lost in later down the line.

She watched him curiously, a confused but kind smile on her lips.

“Earth to Parker?” she insisted playfully and the boy snapped out of his daze.

“You know my name?” he asked her, bewildered.

“Well yeah, aren’t you in Debate Club?”

Peter’s brow furrowed and he leaned in a little, the sudden scent of sweet vanilla and strawberries invading his senses.

“Yeah, how do you do that?”

“Oh, I’m psychic,” she replied, shrugging nonchalantly as though this was a perfectly normal statement. Peter’s eyes widened a bit and she giggled, shaking her head with a grin.

“I’m kidding, obviously! I talked to Mr. Harrington about joining this morning. He showed me a picture of last year’s team and told me everyone’s names,” she explained.

“Right, obviously. My bad,” Peter replied, chuckling softly. His eyes clinged to hers. They were beautiful and vibrant, twinkling with joy as she smiled at him. He was enthralled by her. Though her smile became hesitant as the seconds grew longer.

“So, um, about that highlighter?” she said, laughing nervously.

“Right! Yes, a highlighter. I’ve got plenty of those!” Peter exclaimed, shoving his hands in his pencil case, retrieving a bright blue felt tip pen. He grinned, victorious, and she laughed again, the sound sending butterflies in his stomach.

“You’re a lifesaver! Thank you,” she said softly as the History teacher walked in and sat himself down at his desk, the students starting to quiet down.

Peter smiled at her and shook his head.

“No problem. By the way, it’s cool you’re thinking of joining Debate. I like it a lot.”

“Yeah, there weren’t many clubs at my old school so I really wanna branch out, try something new,” she said.

“Alright everyone, let’s all use our inside voices from now on. I suggest we start the year off with a reading from your textbooks, page 7,” the teacher drawled and Peter reluctantly looked down at his history book, his fingers slowly flipping through the pages in sync with the other students, the girl’s back facing him again, though not for long. She turned around again and held out her hand.

“I’m Y/N by the way, Y/N Y/L/N,” she said with a grin.

Peter smiled at her and took her hand, his body jolting at the feeling of her skin against hers, soft and soothing like herself. He calmly shook her hand and chuckled.

“Peter Parker. It’s nice to meet you.”

That had been the first of many History classes filled with laughter, fun, and inside jokes, all so dear to Peter. Y/N finally joined Debate which he was thrilled about. He also introduced her to Ned, and the trio started to hang out after school, watching movies and going on walks around the city. Y/N especially loved nature so she constantly dragged Peter to Central Park, giggling at the sight of squirrels and little children running around the pathways. He always felt so lucky falling in step with her, her arm linked around his, something she always did.

Months later, their friendship was even stronger than before, the pair confiding in each other and exchanging stories and secrets they hadn’t told anyone else. Peter told her about his uncle’s death and how difficult it had been going through that, and she told him about her insecurities and fears. She was afraid of being alone, of being left behind, and she wasn’t confident, something he just couldn’t understand.

He couldn’t think of anything he didn’t like about her. Yes, she was very stubborn, she hated to admit when she was wrong, and she didn’t like Star Wars. But that was all fine. It was who she was, and he loved who she was. Because aside from her flaws, she had wonderful qualities that made her so very special. She was a joyous and optimistic ray of sunlight, happy and enthusiastic about everything. She was understanding and kind too, always by his side in case he needed anything at all. Y/N was curious as well, asking questions about anything and everything, constantly in the mood for an adventure. She was vibrant and just the sight of her made his days a hundred times brighter.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment where he had fallen for her. It was all of the little things about her: how her eyes sparkled when she was happy, how she always skipped ahead of him to get to History, how she hummed to herself whenever she looked up at the sky. Insignificant things in the eyes of a stranger, but so precious to Peter, like little drops of gold gifted by the universe, destined only for him. He cared so much about her. Which is precisely why he wanted to invite her to the prom.

He had spent weeks trying to come up with the perfect way to do it, afraid of doing something too tacky or cheesy. He wanted to do something memorable, but what if he messed it up with his rambling? Peter had so much he wanted to tell her, his extracurricular activities being one of those things. He still hadn’t told her he was Spiderman. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. He knew she would never betray his confidence, of that he was sure. He wasn’t sure, however, that she wouldn’t see him differently. Maybe she’d think he was lying, or maybe she’d only like him back because he was Spiderman. So many maybes and what ifs.

Peter eventually told Ned about his feelings and fears, and Ned wasted no time, immediately encouraging his friend to confess the truth to Y/N. The whole truth.

“She won’t see you differently, it’s Y/N! She’s the most down-to-earth person we know. And she’s crazy about you, even I can see it.”

“She’s not crazy about me…” Peter replied shyly, his eyes fixated on the floor.

“Um. Yes, she is. Do you not see the way she looks at you? Heart eyes!”

After much deliberation and planning, Peter had finally mustered up the courage to reveal himself to Y/N, tell her how he felt about her, and ask her to go to prom with him. It was no small feat. But now it was too late; she was going with Tobias. Peter was so disappointed, angrily cursing at himself for wasting so much time and for letting her get away.

He had worked so hard on what he was going to say and on the actual promposal, and he had been so nervous as well. When Peter got to school that day, his lungs felt like they were about to burst from anxiety. He was unbelievably scared, terrified even of what was going to happen later that day. After school, Y/N was going to go home and see what he had left for her.

Oh no.

Peter shot up, the sudden realization hitting him square in the face like a pack of bricks. She was going to go home and see what he had left for her. A huge pit formed in his stomach and he hastily covered his face with his mask, immediately spraying his webs onto the building opposite him and leaping off the railing of the fire escape. He had to get there before her.

Almost out of breath, he jumped and somersaulted off apartment complexes, flying above tourists excitedly calling out for him just like they always did, but again, he paid them no mind, mentally apologizing to them. The air grew a little cooler as the late afternoon settled in, a welcome breeze blowing against Peter’s warm body.

“I’m almost there, almost there. Can’t let her see it.” He thought to himself when a ding sound suddenly interrupted his inner dialogue. He gripped onto the side of a deli, taking out his phone and his heart sank further down.

Y/N: peter?? where’d u go?

Y/N: I told the teacher u were sick, what’s going on??

Y/N: peter you’re scaring me!! where are u??

Y/N: I’m heading home cus I cant find u

Y/N: pls call me and tell me ur ok

Peter groaned. He quickly typed in a vague but somewhat explanatory answer, praying it would stop her from worrying.

Peter: I’m okay. Just had to take care of stuff!

Y/N: I’m almost home, r u sure ur okay??

The suit started to have difficulty clinging to the building so Peter decided to shove his phone back in his suit and leave. He couldn’t risk her seeing what he had done in her room. Thankfully, he wasn’t too far from her apartment, only a few blocks away.

After what seemed like an eternity, Peter finally reached the apartment building, his nerves wracked and fingers shaking. Shooting a small web onto the glass window of Y/N’s bedroom, he managed to slide the panel up, effectively slipping inside, eyes immediately landing on the giant web he had meticulously created for her. It spread from her bed to her desk like a gleaming trampoline, only much more delicate. The shiny white strings clung to each other, forming a large and uneven set of letters that spelled out the word he had planned to say out loud to her.

Prom?

He sighed loudly, removing the mask from his face, his hair messy and disheveled as usual. Passing a hand through it, he turned around to shut the bedroom door, but he stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes met Y/N’s.

They were wide with astonishment and shock, her lips slightly parted, expression completely blank.

Peter gasped, desperately gesturing towards the webs behind him.

“I can explain! I-“ he exclaimed, but she cut him off, taking a step forward.

“You’re Spiderman?” she almost shrieked and Peter’s finger immediately reached his lips in a shush signal.

“No one can know, Y/N!”

“You’re Spiderman?” she tried to say in a hushed tone, her voice wobbling a little. She couldn’t believe what she had just seen.

“Yeah. I’m Spiderman.”

“So that’s why you run off after school and you’re always really jumpy and nervous?” she inquired, eyes still wide open.

Peter’s heart stopped for a second.

“Well-um, that’s part of it,” he croaked.

“Peter, what’s going on?”

The boy looked at his friend, the girl he cared so much about. She seemed genuinely concerned, her brow furrowed as she gently contemplated him. He hated the thought that he was the cause of her worries, so taking a deep breath, he looked down at the ground, and finally, spoke.

“The truth is yes. I’m Spiderman, and I’ve been meaning to tell you that for a while, because I really care about you and you mean so much to me and I hated not telling you but I was afraid that you’d see me differently or that you’d think less of me, so then I talked to Ned about it and he told me I should tell you, and I wanted to, and I also really wanted to ask you to go to prom with me, so I thought I’d do both, because you’re amazing and you deserve the truth and you also deserve a great promposal but I didn’t know what to do so I figured I would do both at the same time, right?

“So then I did this and I was gonna walk you home and skip Calculus and I was gonna tell you once you saw the webs in your room but then at school, Tobias asked you, and I’m really happy for you, and I didn’t want to make you feel bad, so I came here and I was gonna clean it all up but you’re here too and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean for you to see this- I mean I did, but-“ he rambled on and on, unable to stop the words from spewing out of his mouth, only to be cut off by Y/N.

“-Peter, I said no. When Tobias asked me. I said no,” she said, her voice gentle and sincere.

Peter couldn’t believe his ears. Had he heard her correctly? His hands trembled a bit as he passed them through his hair yet again.

“What?” he asked, unsure.

“I mean, I said yes in front of his friends because I didn’t want him to feel bad in front of everyone, but I talked to him right after and told him no.”

“Wh-why would you do that?” Peter muttered, bewildered by her words. Why would she say no to Tobias Pierson?

“Because I don’t want to go to prom with him. I want to go with you,” she replied hesitantly, her cheeks filling with red as she bit her lip.

Y/N Y/L/N wanted to go to prom with him. He just couldn’t believe what was happening. He found the courage to look her straight in the eyes and the kind look she was sending him made his heart skip a beat.

“You do?” he whispered, unable to take his eyes off her.

Y/N giggled nervously, her arms tense with anticipation hiding behind her back as she shifted her weight.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been dropping hints for weeks!”

“You were? When?” Peter exclaimed.

“Um, like when I sent you pictures of prom dresses and asked you which ones you liked best. Or when I told you about how Marcus had just asked Jess and I told you it was really sweet and she was a lucky girl, and-“

“-those were hints?”

“Yes! Although, now that you mention it, obviously not very good ones.”

“Well, technically, your hard work paid off,” Peter said, a soft smile drawn on his lips as he gestured back at the large and shiny webs.

“I still can’t believe you’re Spiderman.”

Peter tried to suppress a frown before speaking again.

“How does that make you feel?”

“Peter, I don’t care if you’re Spiderman or Batman or Wonder Woman for that matter. You’re Peter. You’ll always be Peter to me. You’re the one who always makes me smile, the one who makes every day, no matter how terrible, so much better. You’re the person I care about the most. I’m just happy you felt like you could tell me.”

“Really?”

Y/N nodded with a grin, her beautiful eyes twinkling like they always did.

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that,” Peter said, breathing out for the first time in what seemed like ages. His heart felt light and airy, utter joy settling in his abdomen like warm tea. She cared about him too, and that simple fact sent a whirlwind of butterflies straight to his stomach.

“So, weren’t you going to ask me something?” she said playfully, her grin widening.

Peter laughed, suddenly remembering why he was in her room in the first place.

“Y/N, will you please go to prom with me?”

Y/N stepped closer to him, just inches away from the suited teenager, her gleaming eyes boring straight into his before lifting her body on the tips of her toes, reaching up to place a soft kiss on his crimson cheek and saying:

“I thought you’d never ask.”

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! feedback is always appreciated and feel free to reblog :)

if you would like to be added to my taglist(s), feel free to fill in this form

Peter tag:

@stiles-o-dylan24 @duskholland @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @r0s3mm @hcomet28 @decaffeinated--fangirl

Forever tag:

@stixnstripesworld @masterofbluff @drakewalker04 @superapplepie

#peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #mcu #marvel #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home #peter parker fanfic #tom holland #reader insert #v writes #hehehe #i missed writing #im very happy with how this turned out #i hope u guys like it!#promposal trope

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Note

For 'imagine' prompt, how'bout BNHA? (Boku no Hero Academia?)

Aftermath

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Rating: Teen Genre: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Bakugo, Kirishima, Mina

“imagine the injured after being treated for their wounds, asking, "can... can I?" And after hearing "yes", passing out.”

Ah, good old BnHA! I’ve never posted anything for this fandom before (I do have an AU longfic in my WIPs that might one day see the light of day if I get past writing the first chapter!) so this is going to be a bit of an experiment in characterisation. To that end, it’s a little bit of playtime! I’m gonna sit with my favourite characters for this because I can, so I guess it’s time to see if I can get their characterisation down... It’s been a little while since I last read the manga - and longer since I watched any of the anime, but hopefully I haven’t forgotten too much

Katsuki didn’t want to admit it, but the fight had been a hard one. He had sweat trailing all the way across his skin, pooling inside gauntlets and overflowing because there was just so much. He was a walking bomb - not that that was anything new, he’d been a walking bomb since his Quirk manifested and he was proud of it - that a single spark would set ablaze.

He made a point to steer clear of Half-and-Half, just in case. His own tolerance for his explosions was wearing thin, and he had no interest in pulling a Deku and needing to be treated for self-inflicted injuries because he couldn’t control his Quirk. Besides, he had somewhere else to be. Someone else to see.

Shitty-Hair’s Quirk was impressive. Katsuki had known that since the start, and a begrudging respect for the guy himself had grown like a fungus as the red-haired boy plastered himself to his side and proved that he could handle Katsuki’s explosions, both figurative and literal.

They’d both grown since then, and somewhere along the way Katsuki had found his growls losing their bite when directed towards Shitty-Hair, and then the rest of the posse that insisted on hanging around him.

It was that posse he was heading for now. They’d been separated - hadn’t been able to keep up with him - and there was a gnawing feeling in Katsuki’s gut that the armour-plated something that had been smashed past him at some point during the fight might have been Shitty-Hair. Maybe. Not that he was worried - taking hits was what the other boy was good at. He could handle a hit or hundred.

But that nagging sensation wouldn’t go away, reminding him of their first sports festival and the way he’d won. More recently, the mess with Eri that Deku and Shitty-Hair had ended up in the thick of, where his - he still didn’t use the f word, saved that for pansies like Deku, but if he did, Shitty-Hair might actually qualify - had ended up hospitalised. Shitty-Hair was powerful, could take the hits, but in a battle of attrition his Hardening would eventually fail him.

The area was carnage, the gang of villains being herded up and dragged away by the law enforcement while Pro Heroes and Heroes-in-training looked out for the idiot bystanders that had got themselves all mixed up in the mess. Some of Half-and-Half’s ice structures had yet to melt, and in other places small fires blazed. Some of them were his. Buildings were reduced to rubble, collateral damage unable to withstand such a full-scale battle, and dust hazed the area.

All in all, it made locating his targets irritatingly difficult. Shitty-Hair’s red hair didn’t stand out too well when there was blood splattered around, every flash of crimson a red herring. Somewhere off to his left he saw the tell-tale green sparks of Deku’s Quirk, still not powered down, and moved in the opposite direction before there could be any annoying calls of Kacchan!

It was Raccoon Eyes’ bubblegum pink hair that caught his attention. The girl was still, unnaturally so for someone with apparently inexhaustible levels of energy, and the disturbing feeling in his gut twisted a little. The splash of red near her did nothing to quell it, and if his strides lengthened just a little as he headed over, well, anyone who commented on it would get a close-up view of his Explosion.

“The medics will be here soon,” he heard her say tearfully as he got within earshot. “Sero and Kaminari went to fetch them.”

“What the hell happened?” he barked out, uncaring that he was interrupting her conversation with the prone Shitty-Hair on the ground. He looked awful, streaks of red criss-crossing his exposed skin in almost a scale-like pattern. The battle of attrition had been lost; Katsuki could see that immediately. From the pattern, many, many thin lines of crimson where his skin had split open, his Unbreakable had once again failed to live up to its name.

“Hey...” Shitty-Hair croaked, one red eye peaking open at the sight of him. “You okay?”

“I’m not the one lazing around with blood leaking everywhere,” Katsuki snapped, an instinctive twitch almost - almost - igniting his palms. “Answer the question.”

“Kids.” Sharp teeth pulled into something that could have been a grimace, Shitty-Hair furious that children were involved. He’d always been touchy about picking on the weak, and after Eri that had only got stronger.

“There were three children,” Raccoon Eyes took over the narrative, wiping her leaking eyes with the back of her hand. Her skin was glistening too, her Quirk manifesting its overuse similarly to Katsuki’s own. “The villains tried to get at them. Kirishima stopped them.”

“‘nari fried ‘em,” Shitty-Hair rasped, before Katsuki could demand what happened to the goons that managed to take the toughest guy in the school - one of the toughest Heroes in Japan, even if he was still in training - down. Pikachu’s Quirk would do the job well enough. Katsuki’s would have, too, and he grit his teeth at the fact he hadn’t been there to blow them away before Shitty-Hair had shattered.

“You need to work more on your endurance,” he said, instead of voicing those thoughts. Shitty-Hair, damn him, seemed to read him anyway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But for now... I I’m gonna need a nap.” His eyes were starting to close again, blood loss and pain clouding them. “Can... can I?”

Katsuki knew without asking that those words were aimed at him, even before Raccoon Eyes chirped a miserable sounding “hold on a little longer! The medics are on their way!” The fact that Shitty-Hair didn’t let go despite her answer confirmed it.

But she was right; a quick glance up showed the medical unit running their way, a somewhat fried Pikachu leading the charge, and Katsuki figured Shitty-Hair had earned the break. Just this once.

“Yeah,” he said, quietly. “Get some sleep, Shitty-Hair. And when you wake up again, I’m dragging you straight back to the training grounds.”

“Sounds... good...” Shitty-Hair even had the audacity to grin his shark-tooth grin at him as he faded out of consciousness. Katsuki scoffed.

“It’d better.”

#boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #bakugo katsuki #kirishima eijiro #ashido mina #bakusquad #drabbles #Anonymous #aftermath

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captainchrisbaby · 4 years

Text

Mental Scars (To Love Too Much Part II)

FOR PART 1 CLICK HERE

Summary: Y/N is still struggling with the events that happened in Sokovia and after 5 months she finally sees Steve again.

Warnings: PTSD, Anxiety & Medication

______________________________________________________

You reach for the small bottle of pills on your night stand and twist the lid off. You poor two sleeping pills out and on to your hand staring at them for a few seconds, you let out a sigh and throw them to the back of your throat followed by a sip of water. You hop up and walk out of your room and down the hall to the communal bathroom you share with the other Avengers who choose to stay at the Avengers HQ. Everyone has their own room to stay whenever they need but not many of you choose to live here. Some of you work late and start early so it’s just easier to have a bed here.

You brush your teeth and lean down to wash your face when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. You reach for the face towel with your eyes closed and pat your face dry, when you look up into the mirror your heart skips a beat. “Steve.” You whisper very surprised.

You turn to face and him and he gives you a small smile. “Hey Y/N.” He says quietly and calmly back.

“What are you doing here?” You realise you’re still whispering and cough to clear your throat.

“I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. I’ll be staying a couple of nights to make as much progress as possible, but don’t worry I will stay out of your way as best I can.” He speaks so confidently and professionally.

You give a small side smile and your eyes scan down his face, neck, shoulders and chest. Every inch of him is perfect and he still gives you butterflies with every glance.

“It’s good to see you.” You utter.

You walk past him and accidentally slightly touch his hand with yours as you slip past and out the bathroom door. The electricity pulses up your arm from the slightest touch and you silently close your eyes and let out a gasp before opening and continuing to your room. You close the door and turn to lean against it. You can still feel where his hand touched yours and and you hold it with your other hand so tightly. You try to stop it but a tear wells in your eye as the pain of missing him for the past 5 months floods back in. It was your choice to end things and you still believe you made the right choice but you haven’t for a second stopped loving him.

The past 5 months the situation that had caused you to push him away has haunted you every single day. You stopped sleeping and the guilt overwhelmed you. You heard the lady’s screams in your head constantly and on the nights you managed to cry yourself to sleep you would wake up screaming from the nightmares. The sleeping tablets helped, they would make you sleep deeper usually resulting in less nightmares so you rely on them to survive now. You had been through the lists of names from the Sokovia Victim’s Names list but you were never able to learn the name of the couple you watched die. It pained you that you couldn’t at least know the names of the people you couldn’t save.

You let out a yawn as the sleeping tablets begin taking affect and you clump over to your bed letting yourself fall on it heavily. You lay there thinking about Steve, the man that stole your heart and never returned it, he holds a piece of you and without that piece… without him, you’ll never be whole. Your eyes flicker shut and the last sound you hear before falling into a deep sleep was the sound of Steve’s bedroom door closing down the hall.

“No! What are you doing?” She yelled completely shocked. “No let go of me!” She screamed. Your arms were wrapped around the woman trying to pull her away from where you know she will die, but just like every time you relive this nightmare she slips through you grasp and runs to her death. And just like the day it happened you watch her die, you let her die. You wake up in your bed and let out a loud cry, “No!” You scream. “No, no, no!” You get up out of bed and run to turn the light on, when you look down you let out a shriek, your hands and forearms are covered in blood.

“Please no.” You cry quietly before turning and reaching for the door handle and bolting down the hallway to the bathroom. Frantically you squirt the soap into your hands and scrub up and down your arms. You twist the tap on as high as it can go and watch the blood run down the drain. Your own tears are burning your eyes and the skin down your cheeks.

“Y/N?” You hear a familiar voice behind you. “What’s happening? Are you ok?” You feel his hand touch your shoulder.

“Get out!” You cry as you continue to scrub vigorously. You see the splashes of blood spraying off your arms and around the sink. Now theres blood everywhere.

“Hey, talk to me!” Steve comes to your side and reaches for your chin pulling it to look up at him. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

One look in his beautiful eyes and you’re undone. You stand still for a second gazing at him and for a slight second everything feels ok but your panic quickly brings you back to the situation.

“I can’t get this blood of my hands…” You cry looking back down to your hands. You stop scrubbing and stand shocked for a second. You open your hands and study them, then the sink… there’s nothing there.

“I…” You whisper in confusion. You can feel Steves concerned eyes examining you and the realisation hits you. None of it was real, you were dreaming.

“Y/N, there’s no blood.” He confesses sympathetically.

“I can see that now.” You reply ashamed and embarrassed.

You both stand there for a while in silence as you catch your breath. You hang your head and keep your eyes closed as a million thoughts raced through your mind.

“What’s the time?” You whisper.

“After 4am.” He whispered back. He stares at you a little longer, “Just come here.” He ordered, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight into his chest. His hand slid up to hold your head tightly to him and his fingers massaged your hair. For the first time in five months you felt safe so you relieve your body of the tightened scared state it was in and melt into his arms. You let your hands wrap tightly around him and a sob escapes you.

He holds you as you cry and after 5 minutes of standing there without speaking he reaches down and cradles your legs to carry you back to bed. He lays you down and lies next to you, you open your sore wet eyes and lock on his.

“How long has this been going on for Y/N?” His eyes still heavy with concern.

You think about lying and saying you're fine but you know he will see straight through you.

“Five months.” You sigh.

“And you haven’t thought to seek help?” He questions.

“Help?” You argue, “Why would I seek help? This is my fault, I deserve this.” You frown as you try to convince him.

“What?” The pain in his eyes was clear. “How could you say that?”

You sit up and brush your hands through your hair in anxiousness. You feel the panic creeping up on you and your breathing grows faster. Before it consumes you, you jump out of bed and over to your desk drawer, you open it and pull out a sleeve of tablets. You try to hide it as best as you can but you know his eyes never left you. You throw them back and swallow. It’s easier with water but you’re a pro now so it’s not a necessity.

You close your eyes again and rest yourself against the desk. “I think you should just go.”

“You need to talk to someone, please.” He begged.

“I’m fine Steve! I’m handling it!” You turn and yell at him.

“Handling it?” He growls back, “This is handling it?” He gets up and marches towards you causing you to flinch as he snatches the sleeve of pills from the desk in front of you. “Valium.” He reads the packet label. He slams it down and darts to your night stand grabbing the bottle of sleeping pills and reading the label silently. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh before shaking his head.

Your blood boiled and you ran over and snatched the bottle back. “What about you?” You snapped. “You were there, you had a choice too, how do you sleep at night?” You hiss.

“I know I can’t save everyone Y/N. You need to understand that these things just happen, we have a job to do remember?”

“Just happen? So they were just collateral damage is that what you’re saying?” You were yelling and it pained you. You’ve never yelled at Steve… or anyone for that matter but this is something you’ve struggled with for so long that you’re at boiling point.

“They were not collateral damage they were victims!” He scolded stepping towards you. You were staring up into his angry eyes and he stared back, brows furrowed. He saw the pain in your eyes then his face softened. “They were victims of a war bigger than any of them… it’s not fair and its tragic but I have to focus on the people we saved. I have to focus on the millions that would have died if we didn’t fight that war and end Ultron. Some nights I don’t sleep but other nights I remember that we will fight tomorrow for the people we have, the people we have because we fought for them yesterday.” He reached up and brushed the hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear. “Do you know how many people get to live their lives every day because of you?” He whispered.

“I feel like if I move on then I’m forgetting them and they don’t deserve that.” You mumble.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He murmurs grabbing your face in his hands, wiping a tear away with his thumb. “We will never forget them. They will always be with us, I promise you that.” He presses his forehead to yours. “I promise.”

You stare up into his eyes and gently hold his wrists. “Will you stay with me tonight?” You ask, scared to be alone.

“The only reason I left was because you wanted me too. I will stay forever if its what you want Y/N.” He spoke.

You push up on to your tippy toes and force your lips against his more passionately than you have ever done. He reaches down to the back of your thighs and lifts your legs up around his waist walking backwards until you slam against the wall. He kisses you back so hard you feel the longing of the passed five months you’ve been apart. You flick your head back and gasp for air and he kissed you neck while he waits for your lips to meet his again.

“I’m sorry.” You puff. He opens his eyes and lock on yours. “I’m sorry for thinking we shouldn’t be together. It’s been five of the darkest months of my life and now you’re here I know that with everything wrong in this world you and I are the only thing that feels unquestionably right.” You smile and kiss him again. He pulls back and his eyes are full of love.

“I love you.” He whispered.

#Captain America #Steve Rogers #Chris Evans #Captain America x Reader #Steve Rogers x Reader #Chris Evans x Reader #Avengers #FanFic #One Shot #drabble #Love #romanc #age of ultron #captain-a-rogerssmasterlist

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cranehusbands · 4 years

Text

null and voided

Crypto | Park Tae Joon/Wraith | Renee Blasey; voidwalker timeline; hurt/comfort; voidwalker/whitelisted; apex rarepair week; 1563 words

a/n: and here’s where i show you just how unhinged i am.

SO. FOR CONTEXT. me and a friend (it’s mr tumblr user the-goolings, nate) have an au/plotline for the voidwalker timeline seen in wraith’s original story short, with voidwalker being... voidwalker, and her guy in the chair helping her out is crypto, who is originally in his hired gun skin variant before being captured by the syndicate and like... half-cyborged? before he escaped to wait for her while she went about with her revenge. it’s fucked! but anyways they make me feel and they’re in LOVE. please ask me more about this au if you’re so inclined i have. a lot

a very late day 6 for @apex-rarepairweek, hurt/comfort!

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs!

Preview: Renee pushed away some of the schematics for the parts in his chest cavity, folding her arms across the dining table and resting her head on top of him, turning to keep an eye on him as he was sleeping… no, as he was shut off. He was hardly human, he’d said so himself, he didn’t sleep. ...But that wasn’t right, was it. He still lived, and felt, just as she did, and although he didn’t breathe and eat he still existed by her side like he always did, and that was as human as it got, right? [...] “God, Tae, how did this happen?”

The only sounds echoing through the apartment were the loud contact of metal on metal, small curses and larger ones, and electricity crackling between two loose wires with a frustrated grumble. Old Chinese food boxes laid strewn around the apartment, old clothes discarded without a second thought, a blanket thrown over the couch like a makeshift bed, and the dining table taken over with tools and schematics, first person pronouns littering the notes of parts and functions. The radio at one end of the table quietly played the news, news of wars and violence that was just white noise against the gentle scraping of metal.

Renee cursed to herself again, slamming the screwdriver back down on the table as she sat up and rolled her shoulder, scowling a little. She was learning this as she was going along, which was hard when the handwriting on your only guide was illegible most of the time. Running a hand down her face, her fingers parted for a moment, and she dared to steal a glance down at the body resting on the sofa that she’d dragged into the dining room, at the way the metal reflected the synthetic lights, how peaceful he looked, like a… fucked up, cyborg sleeping beauty, eyes closed and chest wide open, exposing the wires and components that kept him alive. How her friend, her partner, her lover, Taejoon Park, was sitting there, half human and half machine, and how she was repairing him for the third time that week.

Getting back to their timeline had been a mess. She’d done what they’d been fighting for all this time, saving herself from another dimension in her place, barely surviving by the skin of her teeth. Sometimes she could still feel the blood of the man who had ruined her life splashing onto her face, remembering the feeling of his skull as it marbled in her grip with every bash against the wall, and she couldn’t tell if that felt good or not. But what didn’t feel good was stumbling back into their own quiet, secluded apartment, practically tripping through a portal, delirious from blood loss, leaning a shoulder up against the wall as she shook off the heavy gear and dragged her blood along the paint, and seeing a man who seemed so familiar but still so strange rushing to meet her, staring at her as if he was an illusion. She wondered if that was just what he was - he looked like Taejoon, looked at her like he used to, lips parting in the same way as he brought a hand up to her face to hold her, but his touch was cold, metallic and unwelcoming, but all the same, it was him, surely?

The way his nightmares haunted him, and the way he gripped for her in his sleep as if she would leave him, all but confirmed it.

It was the Syndicate, he’d said. Got to him when he was gone. Tortured him, barely kept him alive, involuntarily entered him into a simulacrum program, where he escaped with the last of his humanity and had been living in isolation for months before she’d gotten home. He didn’t sleep, or eat - he didn’t need to, not anymore. He just listened to the sounds of his own parts functioning, and wondered what it would be like to hear them stop. He’d taken down all the mirrors, covered the windows and any other reflections, making sure that he didn’t have to see himself, and what he was forced to become. Tried to find Mila by himself, he’d said, but he kept flipping between hopelessness and sheer mania, trashing the apartment before fixing it again to trash it again. All while she was dimensions away, totally unaware that the man who helped her get this far was barely hanging on, waiting for her to come home.

It wasn’t her fault. Not by any means, and Taejoon had told her as much. But now that what she’d made her life’s purpose was just another page in the book of her personal history, it was all she could think about. Renee pushed away some of the schematics for the parts in his chest cavity, folding her arms across the dining table and resting her head on top of him, turning to keep an eye on him as he was sleeping… no, as he was shut off. He was hardly human, he’d said so himself, he didn’t sleep. ...But that wasn’t right, was it. He still lived, and felt, just as she did, and although he didn’t breathe and eat he still existed by her side like he always did, and that was as human as it got, right? She let out a sigh, shaking as she did so, biting her lip as her eyes started to well with tears, continuing to watch him and remembering the times he’d fall asleep, just like this, at his desk, working for hours for her sake and his own, as she’d wrap a blanket over his shoulder and ruffle his hair with a gentle kiss to the temple-

“God, Tae, how did this happen?” She whispered to herself, breaking down and turning her head away to sob against her forearm, unable to stop herself, her whole body shaking with the force of it, bottled up day in and day out of repairs. Had she let him down? What had they become? Zombies, searching for truth and revenge, the syndicate one step in front with a knife behind their back. She’d gotten revenge in one dimension, but what about the countless others she saw in her sleep, the voices that followed her everywhere and the void that beckoned for soulless company-

She held in a breath at the familiar whining sound of servo’s releasing locked up air, fans kicking in as a single robotic eye looked around, making noise with every movement. Renee rubbed her eyes against her arm before she sat up, forcing a light smirk. “Hey. I’m not finished, why’d you-”

“Forced startup. Syndicate slave code.” Even now, it was hard to get used to the slight crackle in his voice as he spoke, as he moved his hand to point to the back of his neck.

“We gotta get that fixed.”

“...Have you been crying?”

She froze. “I- no, it’s nothing-”

“Renee…”

“Don’t ‘Renee’ me, Tae.” She almost snapped, not wanting the pity, before she felt herself deflate. “I said it’s nothing, OK?”

She listened to the way his cybernetic eye moved to look her up and down, moving his hands to support himself as he slowly sat up. “Wait, no, I’m not-”

“Quiet.”

“What- no, let me finish my work first.”

He closed up his ribcage with a light click, looking up to her as she rolled her eyes. “There. No more work.”

“That’s only going to wreck itself later, and you’re going to complain, you know that, right?”

“I don’t matter right now. All that matters is you.”

Though she slightly softened, Renee opened her mouth to speak again, only cutting herself off as he put a hand against her cheek - it was cold, but still so warm, and full of love, as he ran a hand across her cheek.

Taejoon moved his hand up to across her freshly shaven (another bad episode with the void, instinctive) head - the metal was cold against her skin, enough to make her flinch a little, but she stayed, almost leaning into it like a cat would, as he gave her a tired smile, moving his hand to hold her face, fingers still stroking what little hair was above her ears. “Kiwi…”

Renee paused, opening her eyes and cocking an eyebrow as she held onto his wrist. “Did… you just call me a kiwi?”

“Mhm… you’re soft and fuzzy.”

She looked at him, chuckling and scoffing a little, shaking her head. “I can’t believe you. Remind me never to cry about you again.”

“Noted. I would never want you to, regardless.”

“But you know I will. We’re just made that way.”

Taejoon hummed, looking down, almost defeated.

She sighed and pressed her forehead against his, touching what little of his skin was left, listening to the way his eyes closed and gears kicked into overdrive at the soft physical contact, chuckling to herself. “I love you, Tae.”

“Yeah… yeah. I love you too.”.

“We’re gonna be OK, I promise.” Her voice was quieter now, only for her entire world, as she opened her eyes to look at him, almost blinded by his as he looked back at her.

“As long as we’re together, I don’t think we’ll ever be OK.” Despite himself, Taejoon laughed, her voice gaining that familiar crackle to it as he moved his hand down from her head to her shoulder. “But I suppose… that’s just fine with me.”

Renee moved herself back a little to go in again, moving in to plant a kiss against his lips, slow and deliberate. He was cold to the touch but warm with the love and care for her he felt with every fiber of his being, both what little of him remained and everything that had been replaced, as he returned the kiss, the bells and whistles all going off in harmony as she chuckled into the kiss they shared, feeling a gentle slap against her arm.

#apex legends #apex rarepair week #cryptwraith #crypto #wraith #apex legends tag #dahl.doc

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deadlygoddess85 · 4 years

Text

Eternal Soul - Serie

- Part 1 -

Chapter 1 - The Beaconing

Paring: OT8

Words: A lot

Genre: Fantasy with a touch of horror.

Songs suggestion: The Queen of the damned soundtrack and Nothing else matters by Apocalyptica.

Characters presentation: The Vampires

Characters Presentation: The Witches

The clacking of her heels resonates in the dark alley, she’s terrified. She’s trying to escape something or someone. Her breathing is fast, it’s hard for her to get the air in. She looks around not sure where she needs to go now. A noise behind her makes her squeal in fear. She looks toward the commotion, nothing. Suddenly, she feels it, the intense pain. First on her neck, then throughout her entire body. She wants to scream; her mouth opens but no words come out. Her head tilted back; she finally sees the cause of her pain. It’s him, the man from the bar. But he is not alone, as another join him. She feels a new pain on her wrist, then another one on her ankle where a smaller figure wraps his arms around.

Her body gets numb. She’s cold now. Her eyes, glossed by tears that won’t fall, look up at the moon as she breath out her last breath. The three men leave her dead body in this dark back alley where no one will find it. It will collapse on the ground in a muffled thud and will be forsaken.

---

Perched on the edge on the roof of the adjacent building, Seonghwa was observing the whole scene in silence. The soft summer breeze blew a small string of his dark hair in front of his piercing blue eyes. The moonlight cast a dim light on his perfect features giving him an ethereal presence. He thanks his decision to wear his dark blue velvety shirt. The long sleeves covering him from the brisk wind of the night. His slender fingers rake his chestnut hair in an attempt to put the rebellious strand back in place but in vain. He sighed slightly irritated. Seonghwa crane his neck, following the three creatures who were walking down the road, unnoticed by the street crowd, until they were out of sight.

“It’s the twelfth victim this week” he stated without moving from his position.

His partner, who was standing behind him, step forward staring at the inanimate body in the alley below them. Hands in his pockets, he stayed silent, feeling for the poor soul who just died tonight. San was one to care about humans more than his fellow brothers. He hated to see them become useless victims for the rival clan. Thanks to his telepathic powers, San was able to read the last thoughts of the dying victims. Thoughts he would always write down in his precious notebook as a sort of tribute. He took the small journal from his jacket’s pocket, the purple cover feeling strangely comforting under his fingertips. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and, taking a small used-up pencil from the same pocket, he started to scribble what he had hear from the dying lady.

“Are you listening San?” Seonghwa asked as he looked over his shoulder.

San finished writing the last words that were trapped in his mind and he finally put the journal back to its original repository.

“I heard.” He answered bluntly, his purple eyes falling on his squatted partner.

Seonghwa got up from his vantage point and faced San, towering him with his tall figure: “Have you been able to get something out of their thoughts at least?”

The black hair man looked up at his ally. Under the moonlight his illuminated eyes looked like two amethyst. He also had a jawline close to perfection and on his neck, a small trail of freckles that only the most intimate could see. He squinted at the question:

“I couldn’t read. They must have known we were around.”

‘If he wasn’t spending so much time reading humans mind, maybe he could do his job as “The Mind reader” of the clan,’ thought Seonghwa. He considered his younger partner. San was a brave vampire, but his love for humans will be his death one day if he is not more careful. Seonghwa sighed:

“Come on! Let’s go back home and inform the others”

And the two men vanished from the roof without a sound.

The cold breeze of the wind blows through the branches of the trees. An owl hoot into the night. The full moon illuminates everything under its magical light. The cemetery is quiet and empty, the tombstone and monuments are keeping guard in memories of those who passed away.

Sitting alone on the ground, knees to his chest, head low, Wooyoung prays. In front of him, a single tombstone with a small cherub looking down at him with sadness in its eyes. Grave in the ashen stone, a name: “Liana”. The young man sits still, reciting his prayer in the hope one day, it will be answered. In the pit of his stomach he could feel it: The hunger. He hated it. Wooyoung slowly lift his head, tilting it back to face the sky. His green eyes opened to look at the moon and he cursed at his new craving. Then, his gaze fell on the cold stone in front of him. A single tear rolled down his cheek, trailing slowly along his jawline.

“I am longing to be with you my love” his voice is a whisper and yet it echoes down his very soul.

The pain was harrowing. He was damned to spend eternity without the love of his life and he despised his master for that. He never wished to become a vampire, he never asked for it and yet, Hongjoong transformed him. Forcing him to fake his death and hide from everyone he loved, his friends, his family, his love. She committed suicide a few weeks after Wooyoung’s acted death, unable to live her life without him.

The young man shifted position, kneeling in front of the tombstone. He leaned in and pressed his palm on the cold granite. His long fingers traced each letter of his lost love’s name. Another tear rolled down his cheek. He closed his eyes trying to remember her face, but it was fading away from his memory. He couldn’t even retrace the shape of her eyes. He sat on his heels and sob quietly.

Wooyoung stayed like this for another hour or so, then he found the strength to pick himself up. Running his fingers in his golden locks, he gave a last look to his love’s tomb and silently walked out of the cemetery. Once he passed the iron gates, he looked up at the sky. The moon was slowly disappearing in the horizon. Still, the hunger was present in his stomach, but it would have to wait. It was time to go home. Ignoring the ache from his craving, the young man turned left and walked down the street, following the familiar path back to the manor.

“The cold strike him like a million needles piercing his body. He opened his eyes despite the pain. Ice. Cube of ice and water surrounded him. He tried to hold his breath as best as he could, but soon his lungs screamed for oxygen. He battled against the cold water, trying to find something to grip, something that could get him out from under this iced bath. But as he started to feel his lungs filling up with water, someone pulled him out. Dragging him out of the tub. His vision was blurred. Water was spilling from his mouth. He felt his arms being stretch over his head, he slowly looked up. A meat hook, his tied-up hands were suspended on this hook. His feet barely touched the ground. Then nothing. For a second. A minute. Until the snap of a whip is being heard. The awful pain that follows makes him screams and flinch. Once, twice, three and four time, up till he can’t count anymore. The screams are mere whimpers now, as his back is shred to pieces. He is about to lose consciousness and he hears a name: “Pierce”…then the words “rare blood” – “keep him alive” – “kill the others”.”

Yeosang woke up from this vivid vision and sit straight on his bed. Panting heavily. It took him a minute to realize he was still in his room. He touched his back and felt his silky-smooth skin under his satin shirt, he sighed and cursed at himself. He lazily got off his bed and walked to his private bathroom. Leaning down the sink, he splashes some water over his face and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His hazel eyes analyzing every aspect of his features. He recalled the vision he had. The bathtub. The ice. The meat hooks. The torture. And the name “Pierce”. Yeosang sat at his desk and started to sketch every aspect of his vision with precise details. Once the portrait of this “Pierce” was done, he looked at it concerned:

“Who are you?” he whispered at the man on the paper. He quickly got out of his room with his drawings in hand and walked down to his master’s private quarters.

His steps are light despite the heavy boots he was wearing. His movements, somehow gracious. Some inexperienced eyes would believe he was almost dancing. Yeosang followed the long hallway down to the living room where Mingi was hiding.

A Machiavellian smile on his face, his eyes forming small crescent behind which two mesmerizing orange pupils shines like sun stones. The red-haired vampire, hidden in a corner of the room almost invisible to the eye, waited for the right time. On the floor, in the middle of the room was laying, an almost imperceptible cable, each end attached to a different anchor. It was harmless. Yeosang was dangerously close to the wire, Mingi concentrated on it, stretching it slowly with his mind and…nothing! Yeosang stopped and lazily walked over the wire:

“Good Morning Mingi. Don’t mess around, someone could get hurt” he said without even looking in the young vampire’s direction.

Mingi got out of his hiding place, a surprised expression on his face.

“How?” he pouted.

Yeosang turned to his fellow vampire as he continues to walk backward.

“I have eyes to s…*thud*” There he was, on the floor. His butt hurting by the sudden fall, his drawing scattered everywhere around him. In front of him a misplaced footrest and Mingi contorted by his laugh.

“Hahaha! You should have seen your face” the young vampire said laughing at his victim.

“Mingi.” Yeosang got back on his feet. He brushed the dust from his jeans and shirt. He gathered his drawings, securing them on the coffee table near him then he calmly walked toward the prankster “I’m gonna kill you!”

Before Yeosang could get a hold of him, Mingi disappeared and teleport to the other side of the living room. The tall vampire leaned against the wall behind him, a cocky smile on his face.

“You’d have to catch me first pretty boy!”

Yeosang gave up, throwing his hands in the air. He gathered his papers, gave a last angry look at the young vampire, and stormed out of the living room to meet with the master.

“Are you bothering our dear Yeosang, Mingi?!?” a sweet and kind voice ask. Mingi left his position to walk toward the new incomer. The man was as tall as him, blond hair with darker root showing, beautiful features and piercing yellow eyes. He salutes Yeosang with a small bow and swat Mingi’s in the back of the head to scold him

“How many times have I told you not to bother the other members?” his voice was stern with a fatherly tone. Mingi let out a small groan before massaging the back of his head.

“Sorry Yunho.” He answered, “It just get boring when the others are out.”

Yunho listen to his brother with attention but didn’t answer. He understood that for a man who used to be super active in the past, being indoor almost everyday wasn’t something easy. But he couldn’t just let Mingi roam around town like the others, he was too vulnerable.

It happened about a year ago, while they were raiding a rival clan, Mingi almost got killed. Two rivals ambushed him and almost drank all his blood. Fortunately for Mingi, Yunho was able to get to him before he was dead. It took half a year for the young vampire to be able to walk again. He had never been able to fully recover as a vampire normally do. Till that day, Yunho is working day and night on a way to regenerate vampire’s blood cell quickly. For now, Mingi had to drink a special mix of blood to keep his strength and powers.

Yunho handed a small cup to his brother “Here, it’s time for your daily dosage”

The young vampire took the cup and drank the whole content in one shot. Yunho massage his brother’s neck lovingly and kissed his temple before going back to his lab. Alone once again in the middle of the silent living room, Mingi sat on the couch and sighed. Even if now he had 7 brothers, he never felt so alone in his life. He brought his long hand to his neck where, if you were paying enough attention, you could see the scar of a bite mark. He brushed it with his fingertips, remembering the night of the fight. Mingi hissed, the healed wound was still burning, he cursed, feeling extremely guilty. Angry, Mingi concentrated on a pile of books that was sitting on the coffee table and they went flying across the living room. He laid his long body on the couch and brought his arms under his head before closing his eyes, wishing he were outside with the others.

In the basement of the manor, at the end a long narrow hallway, loud hip-hop music was blasting into a stereo. Muffled behind the song, several thumping could be heard. In the middle of the room, illuminated by a few dim lights, a muscular young man was beating a hanged punching bag. His dark brown hair was sticking to his forehead as his sharp red eyes were concentrated on the un-moving target.

After his workout, Jongho sat on one of the benches in the room. A little veil of sweat was covering his shirtless upper body but somehow, he wasn’t feeling exhausted or out of breath, one thing he still wasn’t used to.

He untied the white bandages that were covering his hands and he massage his knuckles. Since he got transform, they felt bigger, stronger, rougher. He loved the feeling. He walked to the mirror in the room and looked at his reflection on the glass. The small pearls of sweat were slowly gliding down his tone chest muscles. With the faint lights of the place, it almost looked like he was sparkling. He frowned at the sight

“Urgh! I look like one of those Twilight pussies” he took a towel and wiped the sweat away.

The loud ring of his phone took his attention away from his figure. He took the small device in his hands and answered it.

“Yes Sir! I’ll be right up!” he hangs up and took his duffle bag before leaving the improvised gym in a hurry.

---

Sitting on the railing of the balcony, his feet dangling in the air, he was admiring the moon, the stars and the colors changing in the sky as the hours were passing by. The soft breeze of the night, slowly brushing in his silver locks made him hummed in appreciation. His dark brown eyes caught something moving a few miles away from the manors, his eyebrow cocked as he was trying to discern what it was.

His soft pink lips formed a tiny grin when he realized it was a stray cat walking down the street. So, they were not the only creatures of the night – he thought to himself amused.

The door of his room opened, and footsteps approached him. Yeosang stood behind him, his precious drawings in his hands. The silver haired vampire broke the unbearable silence

“I presume you’re not in my room, simply to admire my back!?!!” his voice was soft, almost like a sweet melody.

Yeosang hesitate a moment before moving closer to his master. He handed the drawings to the older vampire and cleared his throat.

“I got a vision Sir!”

At the same time, Jongho who took the time to change into more appropriate clothes walked in the room, as Seonghwa and San appeared in front of them.

The older vampire looked at the drawings attentively “Do you know anything about this man?” he asked Yeosang.

The young man shook his head “No, the only thing I know about him is his name. Pierce!”

“Pierce?!” Seonghwa walked forward and looked at the drawing in his master’s hands.

“Yes! He would be valuable for the other clan. Something to do with his blood” continued Yeosang

Seonghwa scoffed “Lunatics!”

The master drop off the railing on his balcony, he handed the drawing to Seonghwa

“I want you and San to investigate about this Pierce!”

“Understood!” the slender vampire bows to his master taking the drawing in his hand and passing it to San. The black haired vampire folded the drawing and put it in his jacket’s pocket

“On it, Sir!” he responded.

The master walked to Yeosang, he put a hand behind his neck, his long nails slowly dancing on the young vampire’s neck making him shiver at the sensation. The master leaned in and whispered in his ear

“You did good Horacle, keep me updated with any new visions.” To which Yeosang responded with a small nodded.

Seonghwa step forward, his hands in his back “Hongjoong, there was another attack tonight. Three Nightshades. They barely hid their crime.”

Hongjoong considered Seonghwa and San a moment, he sighed, bowing his head with sadness in his eyes

“Another victim?!” He turned to face the city, his delicate frame leaning on the railing of the balcony. He looked at the horizon, the streetlights slowly fading as the sun was about to rise. He remembered those nights, back in his younger vampire days, where he used to keep a victim for days. Treating them with love and care, like they deserved. Humans were not just food to him; they were a precious treasure to keep and cherish.

“Tonight, we’ll roam the streets. Remind the Nightshades this city belongs to us.” His voice was stern but still so soft, he turns back to his brothers “For now, get some rest my dearest, you’ve worked well. We’ll plan our night later”

Seonghwa, Yeosang and San bowed to their master before leaving the luxurious room. Jongho closed the door behind them and stood in front of it, like any bodyguard would do.

Hongjoong took his initial position, on the railing of the balcony, his eyes glued to the sky, he hummed a sweet lullaby as he watched the stars disappeared while the sun rises in the horizon.

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

“So this is the beginning of the serie. I hope you enjoy it so far! there’s more to come. Stay tune!!!

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

#ateez #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #wooyoung angst #jongho #kpop

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kimjongdaely · 5 years

Text

My Pet Human [Chapter 18]

Vampire!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: mention of blood, violence, slavery and sexual situations.

Summary: Every wrong step, every wrong turn led you to this moment. This moment where you would belong completely, utterly to the vampire Kim Jongdae, who never even wanted you in the first place.

Prologue│Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3│Chapter 4│Chapter 5│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8│Chapter 9│Chapter 10│Chapter 11│ Chapter 12│Chapter 13│Chapter 14 [M]│Chapter 15 [M]│Chapter 16│ Chapter 17│Chapter 18│Epilogue

“Why did you pull me out here?” Jongdae asks, a brow raised at her.

“Jongdae.” Her voice never fails to make him shiver, so soft and beautiful. “Are you not happy that I’m back?”

The question catches him off-guard, and he tries to shy away from it. “I—I thought you were dead.”

Her eyes narrow, red lips pursed as she takes a step closer. Her scent is so familiar, so nostalgic that it makes him hold his breath to keep himself from wavering.

“I’m alive. I am here.” She reaches out, fingers grazing his arm and he stiffens, shuddering. Her voice drops to a whisper. “Do you love me?”

Jongdae breathes out shakily, eyes darting across her face and he feels himself shattering, collapsing, teetering on the edge and so close to falling. He mumbles brokenly, “I do. I love you.”

Victoria cups his cheeks, bringing him closer and he doesn’t fight it. His mind is racing, yet it’s so utterly blank at the same time. Her face flashes in his mind and he manages to pull away. “I…Wait. Please.”

Hurt flashes in Victoria’s eyes. Hurt, and something else. It goes by too quick for him to catch it. “Jongdae, do you love her too? Have you forgotten me so easily? We spent centuries together! I’m the one you love, not her!”

“I—” Jongdae stutters, taking a step back. “I don’t know, okay? I…I missed you so much. There hasn’t been a single goddamn day where I haven’t thought about you. I kept blaming myself for what happened…I always wished you were there with me. I—” He chokes up, unable to continue and her eyes grow sad, so pained, mirroring his.

“But?” She whispers.

“But…” He breathes out, shaking his head. “In my misery, in the darkest moments of my life, she was there. She didn’t hate me, she didn’t leave.” His voice shudders. “She came to me. Not you.”

There are tears in Victoria’s eyes as she gazes up at him through her lashes. He can feel himself trembling. He could walk away now. He could leave her behind and pretend the past never happened.

But he can’t.

“You didn’t come for me either.” She says. “When I was on the verge of dying, when I had to do whatever I could to survive, you weren’t there for me. But,” she exhales, “but it never mattered because I love you. I love you so much. My heart never changed; how could yours?”

He doesn’t know how to answer. He had changed. He had gone through grief and misery and re-learned how to love. There’s no way he didn’t change.

But his feelings for Victoria…had they really changed? Then why does it hurt so much now that she’s here, why does he still find her so mesmerizing?

She touches his cheek and he doesn’t move. He doesn’t pull away when she leans in, and doesn’t stop her when she kisses him.

He’s never had such a bittersweet kiss before.

“Yixing, are you sure?” Junmyeon eyes the two of you uncertainly. “I know you can handle yourself…but it’s still dangerous. I could contact the clan overseas…”

“We’ll be fine.” Yixing reassures, flashing him a smile. “Don’t worry.”

You try to keep your eyes down, through you can’t help but wonder if Jongdae will come to see you off.

Yixing grabs his suitcase and yours, heading towards the car. Chanyeol had offered to drive you two to the airport, and Hui refused to let you leave unless she could see you off.

Soon you’re down the road towards the airport, and you didn’t get the chance to see Jongdae. You mentally scoff. As if he would see you off. He doesn’t care…he never did.

Your heart wrenches and the image of him kissing Victoria resurfaces. But this is for the best. He was never meant to be with you in the first place. They had always belonged together, and now that she’s back, there’s no need for you to stay.

Yixing touches your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Are you okay?”

You find Hui and Chanyeol also looking at you in concern, and you feign a smile. “Yes, of course. Just…a little nervous I guess. I’ve never been outside the country.” Or anywhere.

“Don’t worry.” Yixing offers you a gentle smile. “I’ll protect you.”

You nod, though you don’t feel any better. You’re still feeling miserable, wanting nothing more than to mope. The scenery rushing by makes for a good distraction, the rumble of the car lulling you to sleep.

When you close your eyes, Jongdae’s face flashes in your mind. His gentle voice as he whispers sweet nothings to you, the feeling of his fingers brushing through your hair.

This is stupid. You shift in your seat, leaning your head against the window and trying to steady your breathing. You wish you could stop the memories. You wish you could erase them permanently. You know that you’ll be gone from this place soon, you’ll be able to start fresh and one day, one day, you’ll definitely stop loving him.

But now it hurts. So damn much.

The car sputters and Chanyeol mutters in confusion. He tries to get the car going again, not paying attention to the road and Hui screams, pointing at a car that’s coming right at them. Chanyeol swerves, going off the road and into the forest, colliding violently with a tree which makes all of you jolt forward. You sprain your neck against the seatbelt, the pain throbbing as the car comes to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Yixing asks you immediately, seeing you wince in pain. Chanyeol fuses over Hui, who was sitting shotgun and had hit her head against the window. You groan out, “I’m fine, but Hui is bleeding.”

Yixing gets out the car, moving next to Hui and examining her wound. You get out too, seeing how crushed the car is. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol admits, brows furrowed in worry. “The car just…stopped working. Should we carry her back? I-Is she going to die?”

You take a look and find that the wound isn’t too deep. You breathe out in relief. “It looks like a scratch. I don’t think she’ll die.”

Chanyeol breathes out in relief, helping her out the car and holding her gently against him protectively. You look around, the pain in your neck still an insistent throb. It seems like the four of you have veered off quite a bit from the road, and it’ll take a while to get back.

“Come on,” you say, “we should go get help.”

Yixing leads the way, following the sound of cars, which is currently too faint for your human senses to pick up. Chanyeol and Hui are behind you, Chanyeol carrying her easily.

Yixing suddenly freezes, and so does Chanyeol. The two of them move closer, surrounding you like a wall of protection.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

Chanyeol growls, fangs bared. “Oh no you don’t.”

And before you can react, silhouettes flash before your eyes, moving towards you so quickly you can hardly make out their form. Yixing stands before you, rushing to meet the figures halfway and you scream, hearing growls and roars. Chanyeol had put down Hui beside you, who is still unconscious. You kneels next to her, trying to keep her out of harm’s way, though you can do little to protect even yourself.

Splashes of blood appear before you, and you cower back, terrified of what’s happening.

The rustling of leaves warn you of danger right behind you, but the figure moves so quickly, it’s impossible for you to get away in time.

You squeeze your eyes tight, holding Hui against you as you brace for impact.

Nothing comes.

A shadow looms over you, and when you open your eyes you see Jongdae, blood smeared across his cheekbone, eyes glowing red and fangs bared. His hands are also dripping with blood.

You’ve never felt so relieved and terrified at the same time.

The three vampires work to kill the attackers, moving at the speed of light and before you know it, they all lay dead on the grassy floor. Corpses, deformed and soaked in blood, all around you.

The sight is gruesome, disgusting, and you feel yourself about to gag. You try to avert your eyes, but they’re everywhere.

You tremble, seeing droplets of blood on your skin and clothes. It takes you a moment to find your voice. “W-What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Yixing answers, trying to wipe off the blood, but it merely smears across his pale skin. “I’ve never seen vampires like that before.”

“They were like zombies.” Chanyeol agrees. “No sliver of consciousness existed.”

“Jongdae, what are you doing here?” Yixing asks, tone slightly accusing.

Jongdae straightens, looking grim. “…I saw Victoria leave, and followed her here. She looked suspicious, and I couldn’t help myself.”

“What?” You blurt out, only to hear a laugh echo through the trees.

Victoria steps out the shadows, her hair tied back and clothes casual, yet she looks as stunning as ever.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Chanyeol demands.

“I’m sorry.” She says sincerely. “I didn’t want to hurt any of you. You are all like family to me.”

“Then why…?” Yixing trails off, only to meet your eyes and you know.

She was trying to kill you.

She shakes her head, sighing. “Why did you have to protect her? If she had died, we would all be able to go back to how things were.”

Jongdae steps in front of you protectively. “Victoria, stop. What is the meaning of this? Have you gone crazy?”

She looks at him oddly, hurt and anger swirling in her eyes. “Me? I’m doing you a favor, Jongdae. If I had killed her, you wouldn’t have to be so torn anymore. You can come back to me just like you should have.”

Jongdae shakes his head incredibly, eyes hardening. “You…” And then his eyes widen, horror and realization dawning on him. “You died back then.”

Silence fills the air, and you look up at him in confusion. What is he talking about? But the shocked silence between the three vampires makes it hard for you to say anything.

Victoria looks at him calmly, nodding. “Yes, I did.”

Jongdae is trembling now, and you push yourself to stand. He looks like he’s fighting something, looking at her with such disbelief.

“I-I don’t understand.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I knew you were different…but…how…?”

“Jongdae.” She calls lovingly, taking a step forward. “Does it matter? I’m here right now, living, breathing. Why won’t you come back to me?”

He shakes his head, backing away, body tense. You touch his arm, watching him in confusion. “Jongdae?”

“Yixing,” Jongdae whispers, “Take the two humans and go back. Now.”

Yixing nods, grabbing for you and Hui but you fight him, pulling out of his gasp. “No!”

You glare at Jongdae, standing your ground. “What is going on here? If she’s trying to kill me, shouldn’t I get a better explanation?”

Jongdae’s eyes blaze in anger, and he pushes you back with a little too much force, making you crash back into Yixing. “Get out of here!”

Suddenly, everything moves too quickly. Victoria is before you in a flash, a cruel smile on her face. She lunges for you, but Jongdae holds her back. Like wolves, they tear at each other, fangs snapping.

Yixing grabs for you, urging you to leave quickly. He pulls you away from the fight scene, and Chanyeol covers for you as the three of you make a quick escape.

You hear a high-pitched wail, the sound echoing through the trees and making your ears ring.

You run as fast as your legs can carry you, trying to follow Yixing’s speed. He’s carrying Hui on his back, hurrying towards the road. You can hear the cars now, so close.

“You can’t run.”

Victoria appears behind you, grabbing you and with her inhumane strength, pulls you away from Yixing.

Previous Chapter│Epilogue

My Pet Human Mini Masterlist

A/N: RIP to Kam, as she digs herself deeper into this plot twist that even she, the author, did not see coming. So yeh, good luck on guessing what’s actually happening haha. Next chap might be the last...maybe

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bevioletskies · 5 years

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bring it on home to me [2/5]

summary: The fight of everyone’s lives may be over, but for Nebula, Peter, and the rest of the Guardians, the search for the person they love most has just begun.

a/n: MAJOR spoiler warning for Avengers: Endgame, though I am a little vague about the events of what happened. Regardless, please don’t let me spoil it for you!

Fic title is, of course, from the song Bring It On Home To Me by Sam Cooke. Warning for mentions of blood and unnamed character deaths.

word count: 2.8k | ao3 | tag

Mantis woke to a dull throbbing in her forehead, a thu-thump that sounded more like an irregular heartbeat than the usual background noise of the Benatar’s engine’s rumbles and groans. It was an unfortunate common occurrence for her, the faint sounds of other people’s worries and fears radiating off them like a siren, calling out for someone to listen. Now, living in close quarters with teammates who constantly fretted and kept it all to themselves, the sirens were more like full-on klaxons blaring in her brain.

When she was growing up under the too-watchful eye of Peter’s father, it hadn’t been so terrible in that respect - he was a man of single-minded purpose, his arrogance so excessive that his narcissism far outweighed his doubt. His feelings, his emotions, had come second to all the things he’d demanded of her, and it was far easier to shut out one person than another five. Mantis had never understood the full spectrum of the emotional experience until meeting the other Guardians.

She tiptoed gingerly out of her bunk and into the tiny kitchenette, pouring herself a glass of water and sitting down at the table. Peter and Nebula had laid out scraps of reports and blurry photos all over its surface, still attempting to work together after the last half-dozen temper tantrums they’d had (Peter moreso than Nebula, not that anyone was counting). “We’re gettin’ closer,” Peter would say every morning during their team discussions, having long abandoned other jobs in favor of this one. Rocket would then quip that they weren’t, Drax would have some sort of blunt response, and Nebula would roll her eyes while Groot adamantly continued staring at his game console screen, trying and failing to not get his hopes up. Mantis would be sitting further away, observing, feeling completely and utterly useless.

“You’re not useless, Mantis.” It was three months after Mantis had joined the Guardians, and they had returned to their ship after a semi-successful job where their worst injury was Rocket’s singed whiskers and Peter’s bruised ego. She had sat down beside Mantis, who was sulking quietly by the vantage window. The softness in her voice always betrayed the sharpness of her expression. “I don’t need your powers to tell that that’s how you feel right now.”

“I wish I was more like you,” Mantis had sighed. “Brave...and strong. But I do not know if I want to fight.”

“Then don’t,” she had said simply. “Your life is yours now. Your purpose is your choice.”

“I suppose when you put it like that...I have never felt so free.” Mantis had hummed, some song that Peter had played once that had been stuck in her head ever since, drowning out the noise that had otherwise taken permanent residence in her head.

Her face had softened. “Neither have I. Though I’ll spend the rest of my life burdened with knowing what I’ve done when I was with Thanos. What I didn’t do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t stop him, I didn’t escape him until it was almost too late. I didn’t realize the extent of what he’d been doing to my sister until the damage to our relationship, to Nebula herself, was beyond repair.” She had shuddered, her hand moving to a specific pocket on her utility belt, drawing out a switchblade embedded with some sort of red jewels. Slowly, she had begun to spin it, flipping it deftly like she’d clearly done so many times before. “I imagine you felt similarly about Ego.”

“I do not know how I feel about anything sometimes,” Mantis had admitted. “But I do know that I wish I had met all of you earlier.”

“I don’t think you would’ve liked us earlier,” she had replied, her tone dry. Then, her head had dipped downward, eyes fixated on her lap. The switchblade came to a stop. “I know I didn’t.”

Mantis had watched her, pensive. “Do you like yourself now?”

Gamora had let out a low chuckle; the sound had haunted Mantis then, and it spoke to her now. “I hope that someday, I will.”

Mantis was drawn out of her memory by the sound of an awkward, distinctive cough behind her. She turned to see Drax stood by the freezer unit, a half-eaten rations packet poorly hidden behind his back. “Drax?”

“I was hungry,” he said, defending himself against absolutely nothing of consequence. “Why are you awake?”

“Sleep escapes me sometimes,” she replied, gesturing for him to join her at the table. He sat across from her, reluctantly putting the rations packet on its surface, knowing he was going to get an earful from Peter about it in the morning (“Food is expensive, Drax! You wanna see our bank account again, or do you wanna maybe not get the late-night munchies for once?”). “Everyone gets louder and louder the closer we get to...wherever Peter thinks she is.”

“We have been having discussions at the same volume the whole time,” Drax protested.

“I mean in here.” Mantis tapped a finger against her temples, right below the base of her antennae. “Nebula is angrier than ever. Peter has never felt so sad. They are very desperate. We are all very desperate.”

Drax elected not to respond right away, instead peeling back the packet so he could dig to the bottom, popping another bite or two into his mouth and chewing slowly without really tasting anything. He knew the others thought more highly of him than anyone but his family had ever done before, but still, he knew they also mostly saw him as oblivious, simple-minded Drax - the one they could count on in a battle, but not in a war. He was a warrior, not a tactician, a body, not a brain. His grief wasn’t always as obvious to the others, either; it wasn’t like Nebula’s scowls or Peter’s tears, Rocket’s drooping whiskers or Groot’s trembling mouth. It was quieter, far quieter than his combative cries during a fight or his harsh tones during an argument. It was almost silent. Most times, Mantis was the only one who could hear him.

“So desperate that we hang onto the mere existence of a woman who is not the one we know,” Drax said hollowly, setting the packet back down. “I have made peace with the death of my wife and daughter. I think it’s time for Quill and Nebula to make peace with hers.”

“How could you say that?” Mantis leapt to her feet, knocking over her water glass in the process; her eyes barely glanced over as it went splashing everywhere, dripping all over the floor. “We have encountered her three times since she ran away, and she has let us get closer each time. Maybe she is not the one we know, but she wants to trust us. I know that. I can feel that. We cannot just...give up!”

“We are working ourselves into a sickness, a disease. She would not want us to mourn her forever,” he insisted. “It is not the warrior way.”

“But she was not just a warrior, and neither are you,” she retorted, her lip curling in a childish manner. “She only died a few months ago. How long have you had to mourn your wife and daughter?”

“Too long.” Mantis froze, her eyes widening in horror in realization of what she’d said, of how easy it had been for him to answer her. She was hardly one to get angry at the others, but somehow, Drax was always the one who got to her more than anyone else. Whether it was a sign of their closeness or their wildly different temperaments, she couldn’t be sure.

She exhaled. “We deserve more time to look for her than you might think. Maybe someday, she will want to stay with us, and she can get to know everyone all over again. I think Peter and Nebula really, really need it. We all do.”

Drax got to his feet, moving to dispose of the empty packet, pointedly keeping his back to her. “Sleep well, Mantis.” He left before she had time to reply, weaving his way through the Benatar’s damp corridor and back to his bed, where he knew he wouldn’t be able to take his own advice.

Another two days passed before they were remotely close to where they were trying to be, a location that Peter refused to disclose to the others for reasons unknown. He and Nebula had reached the acceptance stage in their relationship, as in they accepted each other’s presence reluctantly and begrudgingly. Seeing them successfully coordinate their efforts was strangely disturbing to everyone else.

“I still don’t trust her,” Drax murmured to Peter after their usual morning discussion, watching Nebula reluctantly follow Mantis through to the back of the ship for lack of something else to do. “She has tried to kill us on multiple occasions.”

“Hey, look, Nebula’s not my favorite person either, but she’s different now,” Peter protested, furrowing his brow. “She only sometimes threatens to maim me these days. Plus, after all that stuff she did to help save the universe, we gotta cut her some slack. She’s not the bad guy anymore. She’s one of us.”

“I suppose she has become more agreeable, yes,” Drax relented, nodding. “But do not mistake her presence for her allegiance, Quill. She is merely here for her sister, and when she realizes that that woman isn’t her - ”

“Don’t - ” Peter’s finger was on the trigger of his quad blaster before Drax could get his next word out, though he didn’t draw his weapon. His breath was ragged between his teeth. “Don’t you dare, alright? Don’t you say nothin’ like that.”

“Then I have nothing more to say,” Drax said quietly, promptly turning and walking away.

On the other side of the ship, Mantis and Nebula were sat by the window, Groot’s favorite spot to sit and watch the stars go by when he was younger. The two of them had an odd relationship, knowing the absolute least about each other of all the Guardians, and yet always feeling a vague sense of apprehension in the other’s presence. They both knew what the other was capable of, the physical and psychological damage they could inflict upon one another, and that was all it took for them to maintain their distance. Still, between the loudness of everyone else’s personalities, they were somehow the quietest of them all, and sometimes, silence was exactly what they needed.

“What happened when you were with your past self?” Silence was not a particularly long-term commitment for Mantis. Nebula turned to shoot her a dirty look, but Mantis returned it with a steely gaze of her own.

Sighing, Nebula brought one knee up to her chest so she could rest her arm. “If you think I’m going to tell you what it was like to look into my own eyes from nine years ago, you’ve sorely misinterpreted our relationship.”

Mantis looked away. “After you left to kill Thanos...sometimes, she would find it very hard to talk about you. But other times, she would tell me stories about how you grew up together.”

“Is that what she called it?” Nebula said, her voice even raspier than usual. “Growing up together? As if we lived in a house and went to school and lived a perfectly ordinary life?”

“She said she always wanted to understand you,” Mantis mused. “But she did not know where to start.”

Nebula scoffed. “Understand me? My sister seems to have spent far more time getting to know you than she ever did with me. It was only in the end that she...that we…” She trailed off, unusually uncertain of what to say.

“Once she started to trust me, she was very helpful in making me feel like I belonged.” Mantis smiled bemusedly, her eyes glazing over, lost in her own memories. “Before becoming a Guardian, I did not think I belonged anywhere but on Ego, serving my master for the rest of my life. She made me see that I could be more, and that we had more in common than we thought.” Her gaze went back to Nebula’s face; it startled Nebula then how similar their dark, inky eyes looked in a certain light. “That includes you, too.”

“What could we possibly have in common?”

Mantis brightened, much to Nebula’s dismay. “Oh, many things! We were all taken as children by a powerful man who wanted us to be servants instead of companions. We felt isolated and controlled and alone. We - ”

“Do stop talking.” Nebula clapped her hand down firmly on top of Mantis’s, pinning it to Mantis’s leg. Mantis jumped but didn’t dare move otherwise. “I can only listen to your voice for so long.”

Mantis held her breath for a moment, then slowly, carefully, turned her hand over, gently prying Nebula’s fingers open so she could interlace them with her own. Nebula flinched. Then, she sighed, her shoulders dropping, and they both turned their gaze to the stars.

Back in the bunks, Drax was laid on his back on his comically small bed, staring up at the ceiling, bits of it eroded away from leak damage and other mishaps that Peter claimed gave the Benatar “character”. In the water stain, he could almost see the silhouette of a face, some vague side profile of a person who, if he squinted enough, reminded him of the slope of his wife’s nose, the strength of her chin, the curve of her jawline.

“Do you think of them?” It had been a mission like any other, some trafficking situation gone wrong that the Guardians had been called to, and the two of them were entrusted with dealing with the enemies on the ground, being the most skilled in close combat. The fight was over now, and they were the only ones left standing. Drax had been bent over at the waist while trying to catch his breath; she had kneeled on the ground beside a pile of bodies she’d created, staring at them in a near trance.

Drax had turned to look at her; she hadn’t looked back. “Of who?”

“Your wife and daughter.”

His answer had been immediate. “Always.”

She had smiled sadly, drawing a cloth from her utility belt to wipe away the blood on her sword. Her back had still remained to him. “Peter tells me stories about his mother almost every night before we go to bed. Yet I...I forget my parents’ names sometimes. I forget their laughs, their smiles.”

“This is an odd time and place to be having this conversation,” Drax had pointed out, though not unkindly.

“It makes sense to me.” She had drawn to her full height, storing away both the cloth and her sword, finally turning to face him. There was a splatter of blood across her torso and face, the silver in her cheekbones glinting through it like it was just another layer of warpaint. “Every time I look at all the death I’ve left behind, I think of them. I wonder what they would think of me if they saw who I was, what I’ve become. Do you not do the same?”

“I come from a race of fighters,” he had said, though his answer hadn’t been so quick this time. “War is our norm.”

She had hummed in response, gesturing for him to follow her back to the ship, where the others were waiting. “I’ve been responsible for more deaths than the ones committed by my own hand.”

He had fallen silent, unsure of what to say, thinking back to the very first time they had come face-to-face, her blade to his throat, then his hand wrapped around hers. “You are not the one to blame for my family’s deaths. That was Ronan and Thanos, but it was not you. Never you.” When she didn’t respond, he had grabbed her by the wrist, pulling firmly so she would turn and meet his eyes. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, though still sparked with the defiance that every last person in the galaxy had come to know so well. Then, he had said, quite simply, “As I’ve said before - you are not my enemy, Gamora. You are my friend.”

The sound of the Benatar’s unceremoniously messy landing - more like crashing - pulled Drax out of his dreamlike state. He got to his feet and ran out to join the others in the cockpit, pausing when he saw everyone frozen in their seats, staring out the front window. Only Peter remained emotionally unmoved, his jaw clenched. After all, he was the only one who had known their destination.

The Guardians found themselves looking at the hollowed-out husk of a place that never had glory days, a place still struggling to rebuild after its destruction five years ago, smoke curling around its borders like it was threatening to swallow it whole. Peter cleared his throat. “Well, this was the last place she was spotted. Welcome back to Knowhere.”

a/n: First of all, sorry about this being late! I left on vacation for a week the day after posting the first part and thought I would only need a week to write and edit this part, but I was sick on my flight home and had a bunch of other stuff to catch up on. I hope you enjoyed regardless!

Secondly, this part was a little bit harder for me to write, as I usually explore Drax's character and relationships with others the least, but it was a fun little exercise in exploring these characters I adore so much! And wishful thinking, but I really want Mantis and Gamora to (somehow) have a good friendship going on in Vol. 3.

The next part will be posted next Friday - I'm halfway-ish through writing it so far. Thanks so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and see you next time :)

#starmora #starmora fic #peter x gamora #gamora x peter #endgame spoilers #spoilers #myfic #myfic: bring it home #marvel #sorry this is late! got sick on my flight home #also trying to write a post-endgame scott/hope fic at the same time

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asktheguardians · 6 years

Text

Origin Scrolls: Beauty and the Beast

The Day After the Great Escape...

Every mutants has escape out of their cages but one of them haven’t escape with them. A man bigger than any mutants caged up as it scratches the metal floor with his claws with the guards guarding the caged mutant. He was only waiting for the right timing...to strike! He ran and grab both the guards heads which he squeeze with brute force killing them leaving a headless body on the ground. The guard have the key to unlock his prison cage so he grab the body to grab the key to unlock the bars. Alarms have went off as the beast began to run for his very life. Guards have come gather up to block his escape but they’re not strong enough to stop his path as blood and leftover body parts and organs are splash everywhere in the hallway. The gate has been broken as the escape mutation is now free.

When the beast have escape he look at his reflection in the water as he despise his look. He say that he’s no longer human just a monster. He doesn’t want to be call a freak when people sees him. He thought maybe he could just end his life right now by using his sharp part of his body and slit his throat deep. He felt amount of pain that felt horrible. Beginning to cough out blood as the throat leaks blood but it’s slowly leaking out. The pain slowly goes away which he look back the reflection to only see a black scar on his throat that has recover the deep deadly wound. He try other method by trying to stab his head but that pushes it out his skull and did nothing. Everything he try nothing work to kill himself. He felt more horrible as he then scream out his lung in sadness.

Years has pass and the guards began to hunt down each mutant experiments back to their cages to become mindless soldiers. But one group never return because they’re already dead out there by the beast who lab code is EP X.2.

Meanwhile in the other life during all of the hunting a young girl who wears a beanie and a loose sweater go to school . Thing is that she’s blind and only see blurs. Her name is Alisson Brooklyn. She’s a nice and lovely students who’s always nice to other but each day she goes to school where she just want to be a normal student person. Students sees her weird and not like them cause she can’t see. Teachers take good care of her but students there are too much for her. They always talk about her behind her back, play bad harsh pranks, and always make fun of her every day. One day as she return home she now began to think that maybe she should leave this world but her father known this and stop her everytime she try to commit suicide. Till one day she went to school group of teenagers take her away to the forest where they gonna strip her down and tie her up to the tree. She try to scream for help but they threaten her to keep quiet cause no one will ever save someone useless as her. They laugh and touching her wrong places but she heard a scream from one of the teen where a huge red blur came in scares them away as they drop their phone which was crush down under the hard huge feet. Alisson was scared can’t see who it is thinking it’s a bear or something bigger. It come in closer with her body shaking in fear with tears falling down her cheek. The rope she was tie up to was cut off as her face in surprise as she look back. The huge red blur ask is she is alright as she has nothing to respond but just to cover her face to cry in sadness. She began to say horrible things about herself thinking she can’t be like the others just because she can’t see nothing but blur. She just wish she can see again but maybe in just another life if she just kill herself. The big red man put his big hand behind her back to comfort her as he tell her that he felt the same way which she look at him with shock to her eyes as tears drip down to the ground. He also said that she must not thing she’s useless because he see her special the way she is. She then cry out again and began to hug the big red man which in his eyes that no one never come close to him this way but he pat her back which later on they became friends.

Months and days have pass. Earlier the teens who took Alisson away got their punishment and Alisson has graduate high school. Summer heat rises and with a smile on her face she went outside to meet her big red friend in the woods. She call him Red alot which he doesn’t care what name he is given but she learn that he’s a mutant which she sees it cool but felt bad the pain he went through over theses years which they learn more about each other. The beast came in and grab her which she giggle and laugh at Red. The beast laugh back too which his behavior have change as well when he meet her everyday. She then felt something curious on the surface of his skin which felt like something like plates chipping off and a crack like shape too. She ask if those bad people are still hunting him down as he respond the answer yes. Everytime before she sees him he has to fight off the hunters who are hunting him down every single day and they never stop coming. She want him to live with her but he worry that his father might not be surprised to see his daughter with a monster like him. She pouted and got up and began to pull his arm as she is gonna try pulling him to her house. He has no other choice but to go with it. Along the way she always slow down to watch out for roots and cliffs which somehow she’s really good at recognizing her path when she is blind. Both have come home but she tells Red to stay here which leaves him out in the opening of the street with other houses around. Till a little boy sees him with his dog on a leash stare at him which made him froze in place scared now that a kid sees him. Alisson ask her dad to meet her friend inside the house which he is really surprise to meet but some what disturb that she told him that it’s a guy. As the door open her father froze in place at the door seeing a big red man with a metal mouth mask stare at him in surprise but seeing a kid swinging around his shoulder and his dog getting pet in his hand. Alisson skip to him and spin with a “tada~” showing this is her friend. Her father than fainted and fall to his back blacking out.

Her father reawaken seeing his daughter standing by her in the living room couch thinking it was just a dream and he was working too hard today. But she respond nope her friend is in the kitchen in an apron as he wave at him. He scream which causes to scare Red and crash to the window door of the backyard and fell back. Her father go to the kitchen and grab a big frying pan in the kitchen and began to wack his leg repeatedly which only made the frying pan dented and ruin. Alisson stop her dad which she tells him that he is the one who save her from those mean teenagers long time ago which he’s more shocked and look back at the injured head mutant and goes in to help him off the ground. He then felt bad and decided to probably make dinner as an apology for his action and a thank you for saving his daughter. After that the red mutant then leave the house but Alisson ran out to do one thing for him before he goes. She gave him a kiss which he felt warm inside which she then comes back inside the house and he goes back to the forest once again.

Next morning he decided to do something special as in go to the ocean, lake, and river to find the biggest fish to eat together with Alisson and her father too. He remember the path where her house is but today seems very off as around this time usually the hunters would come and try to shoot him down. As he got to the house the window that he crash still there but as he enter inside it was more of a mess as the front door is destroyed and there’s alot of bullet holes on the walls which have only tranq darts. He heard a man groaning upstairs which he ran up fast to see Alisson father who has bullet holes alot in his chest as he trying to fight until he dies. He ask her father what has happen but he said a bunch of black clothed men came in with guns who are only after his daughter but they leave him here just to give him an item which is a message hologram. It said that if EP X.2 doesn’t come back the girl will die which given him a map to the direction. He felt anger inside filling his head with rage but heard his father cough blood which he comes back trying to pick him up but he refuses which is already too late. But he said to go and save his daughter before it’s too late. From that last request he then passes away which the big red mutant swore that he’ll keep his promise to save Alisson again. Gun was heard click behind him which is one of the hunters who made this house a trap but he refuse to stay down as he turns around and began to kill every single one of them in the house and began to run down to the direction where Alisson is.

Alisson is in a restraining chains preventing her from escaping as guards are watching her but one guard began to flirt with her and touching her in wrong places saying her body is too good to be with that nasty beast but her chain are still lose enough to throw her knee to his crotch making him feel terrible and horrible pain which guards see is painful too but drag him out. She just now stand there hoping Red will come soon. The big red mutant began running faster and panting as he is getting close till he finally arrive seeing guards and one of them on the ground in pain but also see Alisson chain up which made him more angry. He roars in killing them as bullets are hitting the surface but he wack them back and stab them ripping them apart repeatedly. He goes to Alisson who hears him cutting the chain off her arms and legs. She falls to his arms hugging him tight as he hugs her back. But all of this is not over till Sparkshock enters the room but he calls the big red mutant Viscous. Alisson is confuse and scared as he keep her close. He then say, “It would be nice if you calm down Viscous..for you’re now surrounded with men out there with tasers that reaches up to 10,000,000 volts... If you surrender then you are happily be together with your friend there but refuse to disobey my request...” his arm cannon charge up and shoot his claws off which show Alisson scare more under his body. “Disobey then the girl die right here while you get shock over and over repeatedly till you’re down and weak,” Sparkshock said. Viscous look at Alisson then around the doors seeing the hunters with tasers ready to zap him alot which he hold her hand and said tat he will accept the request. But if any of them harm her in any way he is not afraid to kill anyone who will harm Alisson. He then agree and he ready he cage where both of them goes in together as they go back to the lab where the given name Viscous and Alisson in separate cages apart each other where they can watch each other.

Viscous look at Alisson who curled up in her cage but he responded to her this, “Alisson...I swear in my heart...no matter how long it takes...one day I will free you...and we can go somewhere where nothing can harm us...” She responded back saying she loves the idea as both hold their hands together for the night has come. For their love will never be gone.

#mutants #Viscous #Alisson Brooklyn #sfw #Origins

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darkwatercomics · 3 years

Text

~ Issue # 11 ~ Book One: Chapter Eleven: A World Without Magic ~

PAGE 1, PANEL 1

Insert.

Close up of Jesse’s eye, reflecting the burning hotel in front of her.

ARTIST NOTE: Inserts are to be read vertically and positioned from top to bottom going down the left side of the full page splash.

CAPTION: “There are moments in your life when you really have to chose to do something, when you just can’t stand by any longer. ”

PAGE 1, PANEL 2

Insert.

Close up of the right side of her face on the left of the panel. She’s looking breathless, dishevelled, blood running down from her forehead.

CAPTION: “It’s that age old question, the burning building question. What would you do in that moment? If it meant life or death for someone, would you have the courage to run toward the flames?”

PAGE 1, PANEL 3

Insert.

Head to chest shot of her with the main street burning behind her.

CAPTION: “I’d never really faced that choice, never really thought about it. But here it was and I was right in the middle of it. I could walk away or I could try to help him. It was really that simple.”

PAGE 1, PANEL 4

FULL PAGE SPLASH: Full shot of her from behind, stood watching outside the hotel as it burns, being consumed by flames, part of it collapsed in on itself, the ground bathed in a fiery glow.

CAPTION: “It was one of those defining moments you never see coming.”

CAPTION: “The kind that can change everything.”

PAGE 2, PANEL 1

Half page panel. Full shot of Magellan from behind with Noah facing him, the main building of the Byzantine Academy, along with Elijah, Marissa and Valentyne, as well as the Ministry guards in the background of the panel. Many of the students are now outside in the courtyard. It’s no longer raining. As in the previous issue the words ‘Way Back When’ are written in chalk on the ground.

NOAH: You really think we’d believe that? That you’d just walk away.

PAGE 2, PANEL 2

Two panels on this vertical tier. Head and shoulders semi-profile shot of Magellan. There’s a definite forcefulness to his stare, an authority.

MAGELLAN: What point would there be in taking anyone against their will. Blind followers serve no purpose, they stand for nothing. If my truth is not their truth then so be it. I can only enlighten those who are open to it, each of us must find our own path.

PAGE 2, PANEL 3

Head to chest shot of Noah, with Elijah, Marissa and Valentyne behind.

MARISSA: Wise words, Alfred, but you were always good with words.

NOAH: And it doesn’t change anything.

PAGE 2, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Head to chest shot of Magellan, The Twelve stood behind him and the shadowy shapes of his followers.

MAGELLAN: My acolytes grow restless, Noah, it would be prudent not to delay further. Some of them are young, inexperienced, as are your students. All it would take would be one single mistake, one moment of panic for this to get out of hand.

PAGE 2, PANEL 5

Over the shoulder shot of Noah with a full shot of Magellan facing him.

NOAH: Is that a threat?

MAGELLAN: It is … advice. The sooner I speak the sooner we will leave.

NOAH: I will not allow you to speak to them.

PAGE 3, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Head to chest shot of Magellan from Noah’s P.O.V. His whole body language has changed instantly, no longer calm or controlled. He’s stiff now, a contained fury in his eyes.

MAGELLAN: Allow?

PAGE 3, PANEL 2

Full profile shot of Megallan and Noah, now only a few feet apart, Magellan is leant forward, a blast of blue energy coming from his hands, with Noah’s head being thrown back with the impact of it hitting.

MEGALLAN: If I did this, what would you allow then?

PAGE 3, PANEL 3

A ground level shot of Magellan from behind in the foreground, with a shaken Noah fallen to the ground at the feet of Elijah, Marissa and Valentyne. Marissa is crouched, her hand on Noah’s shoulders, as she looks angrily over at Magellan. Behind them students are looking on in shock and the Ministry guards stand ready.

VALENTYNE: Alfred, don’t do this.

MAGELLAN: Michael, you’ve been very quiet. I thought you would have welcomed this, welcomed a chance for your voice to be heard.

PAGE 3, PANEL 4

Three panels on this bottom tier. Head to chest semi-profile shot of Valentyne, glaring across at Magellan with a stare of grim defiance.

VALENTYNE: Then you thought wrong, Alfred, I have my problems with the Normals and the Ministry, that’s no secret, but this isn’t the way. This way, your way, only puts innocent lives at risk.

VALENTYNE: It’s think it’s time you left.

PAGE 3, PANEL 5

Forehead to chin semi-profile shot of Magellan, his face filling the panel.

MAGELLAN: This is a mistake. You are making a mistake, all of you.

PAGE 3, PANEL 6

Full profile shot of Valentyne and Magellan facing each other, both now in a defensive position, hands half raised, glowing with the familiar blue energy. It’s a stand off, neither making the first move.

VALENTYNE: Maybe you’re right, but it’s our mistake to make.

PAGE 4, PANEL 1

SPLASH: Full shot of Valentyne and Amaris from behind, stood in the desert outskirts of Magic Town, shadows thrown along the ground by the gleam of the moon. The town itself sits quiet under a sky of stars. Written in the sand are the words ‘19 Years Later.’

ARTIST NOTE: The title is written on the bottom of the panel, on the ground of the desert, Book One: Chapter 11, A World Without Magic.

AMARIS: Seems pretty quiet.

VALENTYNE: Then we proceed with caution.

AMARIS: Always.

PAGE 4, PANEL 2

Two panels on this bottom tier. Head to waist profile shot of them, with Amaris in the foreground of the panel, looking to the town.

VALENTYNE: Are you up to this, Amaris?

AMARIS: Of course.

VALENTYNE: I’m not questioning your loyalty.

AMARIS: I know.

PAGE 4, PANEL 3

Similar to the previous panel but now it’s a head to chest shot of them.

AMARIS: He’s still my brother, but you can rely on me. I’ll go where this takes us. He’s made his bed now, up to him if lays on it.

PAGE 5, PANEL 1

Page width panel. On the left of the panel in the foreground is a full shot of Tom from behind, stood in the entrance of an alcove. It’s wider and lower than the alcove seen in issue # 10. On the right of the panel, crouched in the shadows of the far corner, is Jobe. Written on the curved walls in chalk are the words ‘Way Back When.’

TOM: Jobe, are you okay? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.

JOBE: They lied, all of them, they lied. I heard what you said to the others.

TOM: It was just a vision, it may not be true. You already know that.

PAGE 5, PANEL 2

Two panels on this tier. Head to chest semi-profile shot of Jobe. He’s mostly in shadow, almost cowered into himself, looking fearful.

JOBE: But Magellan believes it. They let our parents die, Tom, they let them die.

PAGE 5, PANEL 3

Full shot of him in the foreground, with Tom stood in the background.

TOM: I don’t think it was like that. I don’t think they knew who we were.

JOBE: Why are you defending them? They’ve been lying to us all this time.

PAGE 5, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Similar shot of them to that of panel 1.

TOM: They were trying to protect us.

JOBE: Were they? Or were they just trying to protect themselves?

TOM: Jobe?

PAGE 5, PANEL 5

Similar to panel 3 but now it’s a closer head and shoulders shot of Jobe.

JOBE: They’re afraid of us, Tom, can’t you see that?

PAGE 6, PANEL 1

Page width panel. A similar shot of them to that of page 3, panel 1.

TOM: I don’t think it’s that …

JOBE: What else could it possibly be?

TOM: I … they’re not even sure it’s real.

PAGE 6, PANEL 2

Two panels on this tier. Similar to page 3, panel 2, a head to chest shot.

JOBE: So my parents died for something that may not even be real? All my life I’ve been lied to, they’ve only ever told me half the truth.

JOBE: In some ways I think that’s worse.

PAGE 6, PANEL 3

Forehead to chin semi-profile shot of Jobe, his face filling the panel.

JOBE: I think it’s me.

PAGE 6, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Similar to page 3, panel 3, full shot of Jobe cowered in the foreground, with Tom stood in the background.

TOM: What do you mean?

JOBE: I think it’s me. If it is true, I think I’m the one destined for darkness.

TOM: No, Jobe, why would you even think that?

PAGE 6, PANEL 5

Head and shoulders semi-profile shot of Jobe, still cowered, still fearful, mostly in shadow and looking down at the ground near him.

JOBE: Why wouldn’t I think that? I don’t fit in anywhere, I’ve always been alone, never had a normal life, never really had any friends.

JOBE: And worst of all I’m weak.

PAGE 7, PANEL 1

Page width panel. Similar to panel 1 of pages 5 and 6, but Tom has moved, now stood barely a foot away from Jobe, almost stood over him, both of their figures draped in the shadows of the alcove.

TOM: Jobe, you’re not weak.

JOBE: Aren’t I? Then why don’t I want him dead?

TOM: Magellan?

PAGE 7, PANEL 2

Two panels on this tier. Head to chest semi-profile shot of Jobe. He’s still looking down at the ground and clearly avoiding Tom’s gaze.

JOBE: I know if I had the chance to kill him, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. He had my parents killed, but still I know I couldn’t do it.

JOBE: I’m too weak.

PAGE 7, PANEL 3

Head to chest semi-profile shot of Tom, draped in the shadows, the curved roof of the alcove also acting as the top border of the panel.

TOM: Jobe, listen to me, it’s not weak to not be able to kill someone. It takes strength not to want to kill someone who’s hurt you so badly, to not give in to the anger and hatred you feel every single day. Honestly, you’re stronger than I am. I think if ever got the chance I’d probably kill him, I don’t think I could stop myself trying.

PAGE 7, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Close up shot of Jobe, his eyes and the bridge of his nose filling the panel, the shadows draped across his face.

JOBE: Could you do it though, if it came to it, could you actually do it?

PAGE 7, PANEL 5

Similar to panel 3 but now it’s a closer head and shoulders shot of Tom.

TOM: I think so, I don’t think I’ll really know until the moment comes.

TOM: If it ever does.

PAGE 8, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Night. Exterior shot of the hotel. In the foreground is a head to waist profile shot of Lady Stardust and Izzie facing the Acolytes who follow Abel, still locked in a stand off.

CAPTION: “Time has finally caught us up, Tom. It’s been chasing us since that first day. This is your chance to change it, to put it all right.”

CAPTION: “Tell me where the Octagon is and I won’t have to hurt her, join me and I can show you the true power of magic. It doesn’t have to be gone. This world doesn’t have to be what you think it does.”

CAPTION: “We can change it.”

CAPTION: “Forever.”

PAGE 8, PANEL 2

Head to chest shot of Jeremiah from Abel’s P.O.V, clearly not convinced. He looks more like he’d rather fight Abel than join him.

JEREMIAH: I have no intention of changing the world. That’s not what this is.

PAGE 8, PANEL 3

Similar shot of Abel, a head to chest shot of him from Jeremiah’s P.O.V.

ABEL: Really? What exactly do you think will happen to the world with magic gone?

PAGE 8, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Forehead to chin shot of Jeremiah.

JEREMIAH: Magic has long served its purpose. It brings nothing to this world now. It’s infected by darkness. It only makes things worse. Once it was the ultimate light in the world, but now? What magic has become, that’s what I want gone. There’s no beauty left in it.

PAGE 8, PANEL 5

Head to waist shot of Abel grabbing Jesse from behind, his arm forcefully across her neck, catching her off guard. He has his other hand threateningly close to her face. There’s an uncontained fury in his eyes and his expression is one of utter disbelief.

ABEL: No beauty? It is everything! It is the secret of life itself! It is sunrise and sunset. It is endless, infinite, far beyond the limits of our understanding. How dare you be so arrogant to think you know it! I could end this Normal’s life in a blink of an eye and it would be utterly insignificant to the sheer majesty and power of magic!

PAGE 9, PANEL 1

Page width panel. On the left of the panel is Abel holding Jesse hostage, half turned, looking angrily over at Mother M, stood behind the bar, leaning on the counter, studying him very much as a teacher studies a student they’ve very much got the measure of.

MOTHER M: You know, after everything we taught you, this is really disappointing.

ABEL: Disappointing?

MOTHER M: Well, I thought we taught you better than this, that’s all.

PAGE 9, PANEL 2

Three panels on this tier. Head to waist shot of Mother M, still studying him, leant forward on the bar, clearly trying to provoke him.

MOTHER M: I mean, you really haven’t thought this through at all, have you? You’re clever, Abel, you always were, but it’s still the same old problem. You’ve got the ideas, the talent, but you never could apply yourself enough to ever get anything worthwhile done.

PAGE 9, PANEL 3

A similar shot to panel 2 but now it’s a closer head to waist shot of her.

MOTHER M: So, what’s the plan? Stir up a few Acolytes, threaten me, threaten the girl, get Tom to give up the location of the Octagon.

MOTHER M: Then what?

PAGE 9, PANEL 4

Similar to the previous two panels, but now a head and shoulders shot.

MOTHER M: No answer? That’s okay. I’d kind of assumed as much. You grew up, Abel, but you didn’t grow any wiser. It’s probably a good thing the school burnt down. Don’t think you would have graduated anyway. It certainly saved your parents any embarrassment. I’m not sure your father could’ve dealt with the shame.

PAGE 9, PANEL 5

Two panels on this bottom tier. Head and shoulders shot of Abel and Jesse, his arm still tight around her throat. He’s holding his other glowing hand barely an inch from her face now. He’s seems agitated, distracted even, trying his best to get his thoughts into focus.

ABEL: If I really haven’t thought this through at all, then I’m thinking maybe I might just end this now, end it all in a blaze of glory.

PAGE 9, PANEL 6

Full shot of Jesse, now violently elbowing Abel in the stomach, hitting him full force as he reacts out of surprise and stumbles backward.

JESSE: I’m thinking not!

PAGE 10, PANEL 1

Two panels on this top tier. Head to chest shot of Abel from Jesse’s P.O.V, a fury burning in his eyes, his hand glowing in the foreground.

ABEL: You treacherous …!

PAGE 10, PANEL 2

Head to chest shot of Jeremiah, reacting with alarm, acting instinctively, his glowing hand in the foreground, mirroring Abel‘s.

JEREMIAH: Abel, don’t!

PAGE 10, PANEL 3

Page width panel. Head to waist profile shot of Jeremiah and Abel facing each other, both releasing blue energy from their palms, which impact against each other between them, erupting outward.

PAGE 10, PANEL 4

SPLASH: Exterior shot of the hotel, the front windows and the main door exploding as blue light erupts out into the street, as well as shooting upward through the roof into the night sky above.

S.F.X: Boom!!!

PAGE 11, PANEL 1

Page width panel. Full shot of Valentyne and Amaris stood in an alleyway, looking up as the blue energy is seen over the town’s rooftops.

AMARIS: Well, that can’t be good.

PAGE 11, PANEL 2

Page width panel. Exterior shot of the main street, the buldings either side of it have been damaged, charred or set aflame by the explosion of the magical energy. The ground is littered with debris and flames. Izzie is helping Lady Stardust up, both of them with bloodied faces and ripped clothes, both looking pretty shocked. Mort and Winston are behind them and are helping each other up. Magic Kind behind are either recovering or lying unmoving.

IZZIE: What the Jesus F Christ just happened?

LADY STARDUST: Nothing good, Izz.

PAGE 11, PANEL 3

Page width panel. In the foreground is a full shot of them from behind, facing the hotel, which has been wrecked by the blast of magical energy, the top half collapsed in on itself as it burns, the flames consuming it. On the edge of the panel are the fallen Acolytes.

LADY STARDUST: Nothing good.

PAGE 12, PANEL 1

Page width panel. Head to waist profile shot of Valentyne and Magellan facing each other in their stand off, but now Elijah is stood near both of them, holding his hand up, attempting to stop this.

ELIJAH: No, this isn’t who we are? If we do this there’s no going back. They’ll see this as proof of what they think we really are. I promise you this will do more harm than good. Then we are truly lost.

MAGELLAN: We’re already lost. They’ve seen to that.

PAGE 12, PANEL 2

Two panels on this tier. Full profile shot of them facing each other, with Elijah now closer to them, his hand dropped to his side.

ELIJAH: Do you really believe that?

MAGELLAN: Don’t you?

ELIJAH: If I did I wouldn’t be here, trying to make something better.

PAGE 12, PANEL 3

Overhead shot of them now stood in a circle, with the words ‘Way Back When’ written in chalk on the wet ground of the main courtyard. Both Valentyne and Magellan now noticeably stood down.

MAGELLAN: Something better?

VALENTYNE: Something better than us. They’re the future, Alfred, our chance to get things right. We have to try and show them a better way. That’s why we created this place, you can’t have forgotten.

PAGE 12, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Full shot of Valentyne and Magellan from the opposite direction, with a shot of Elijah from behind.

MAGELLAN: Then you still see their potential.

VALENTYNE: I see their potential not to make the same mistakes as us. That’s what this place is really about. Not the whims of the Council or the politics of the Ministry or long held grievances of old.

ELIJAH: We’ll never move forward if we continue to hold onto the past.

PAGE 12, PANEL 5

Forehead to chin semi-profile shot of Magellan, his face filling the panel.

MAGELLAN: This isn’t about the past, this is happing now. Your faith in people has always blinded you, Elijah. I confess that it has served you well, but it has also kept you ignorant of what has really been going on. This place has been a shield, for you and them. I thought Michael saw this as well but it seems I was mistaken.

MAGELLAN: You have made them weak. This place has made them weak.

PAGE 13, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Head to waist shot of Abel and Amaris stood among the students gathered at the top of the steps of the main entrance. While the others, including his sister, are looking on passively, Abel is glaring, and the anger in his eyes is clear.

MAGELLAN ( O.P ): Do you really think they’ll be strong enough to fight back when the Normals come for them. Because they will come.

MAGELLAN ( O.P ): Sooner or later, it’s inevitable.

PAGE 13, PANEL 2

Overhead shot of Elijah, Valentyne and Magellan stood in a circle.

ELIJAH: History repeats, right?

MAGELLAN: How many times have we seen it happen? Again and again. How many times have we seen them deny that part of themselves in the misguided belief that it can never happen again.

PAGE 13, PANEL 3

Similar to panel 1 but now it’s a closer head to chest shot. We can see the anger silently building in Abel, bubbling up unseen by his sister.

MAGELLAN ( O.P): But it will happen again. And our future you speak of are nothing more than a fallacy, told to stay their true power, to try to fit in, be good Magic Kind, be what the world expects.

PAGE 13, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Forehead to chin semi-profile shot of Magellan, half his face draped in the deep shadows of the night.

MAGELLAN: And the moment we step outside of what they expect, the moment they remember we are superior to them, that will be the day all of it will change forever. Everything you have done to acquiesce to them will count for nothing. Their fear will rule them.

MAGELLAN: They will come. They will storm these gates. They will burn this place to the ground. They will take you away, parade you, imprison you. And these children will be utterly unable to fight back.

PAGE 13, PANEL 5

Head to chest shot of Abel, fury in his eyes, unable to contain his anger any longer as it explodes. In the foreground is the palm of his glowing hand in a perspective shot as he fires off a bolt of energy.

ABEL: No! You’re a liar! A filthy liar!

PAGE 14, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Head to chest profile shot of Magellan as the bolt of energy sizzles right past the side of his head.

PAGE 14, PANEL 2

Full profile shot of the bolt of blue energy impacting a member of the Twelve, hitting them directly in the chest as they stumble backward.

PAGE 14, PANEL 3

Full profile shot of the member of the Twelve collapsing to their knees.

PAGE 14, PANEL 4

Page width panel. Full shot of Elijah and Valentyne from behind, exposed in the centre of the courtyard, facing Magellan, who is simply looking down at the fallen member of the Twelve, unmoving. The other members of the Twelve are also looking down.

PAGE 14, PANEL 5

Insert.

ARTIST NOTE: Insert is positioned in the bottom right of panel 4.

Head to chest profile shot of Marissa and Noah, Marissa in the foreground.

MARISSA: No.

PAGE 14, PANEL 6

Three panels on this bottom tier. Full shot of Magellan now looking up again. The members of the Twelve are now stood either side of him instead of behind, their hands glowing with energy.

PAGE 14, PANEL 7

Full shot of the gathered Ministry guards on the steps, glowing palms ready. The head guard is sweating, eyes wide open in alarm. It’s obvious he’s in over his head and doesn’t know how to respond.

PAGE 14, PANEL 8

Head to waist shot of the head guard, the other guards behind him, his indecision now turning to anger as he opens fire with no regard.

GUARD # 1: Open fire!

PAGE 15, PANEL 1

FULL PAGE SPLASH: In the foreground is a full shot of Jesse lying on the ground, pulled into herself, glass sprinkled all about her. Her shirt is torn, her face bloodied and blackened by smoke, her NASA cap lies on the earth in front of her. In the background are the buildings of the main street of Magic Town, damaged by the magical explosion, and behind her Mother M’s hotel is ablaze. Written on the earth by her cap are the words ‘19 Years Later.’

CAPTION: “Wake up Jesse!”

CAPTION: “All I could hear was the echo of Linc’s words, but fading, like waking up from a dream, and that’s when reality crashed in.”

CAPTION: “For a moment I’d been back there, and it had been so real.”

CAPTION: “But the past doesn’t change. We can dream it different, imagine how it could have gone another way, but every moment, every single one, once it’s gone it’s gone. Ain’t no do overs.

PAGE 15, PANEL 2

Insert.

Full shot of her now crouched on one knee, pulling her NASA cap on.

CAPTION: “No take backs.”

PAGE 16, PANEL 1

Insert.

Close up of Jesse’s eye, reflecting the burning hotel in front of her.

ARTIST NOTE: Inserts are to be read vertically and positioned from top to bottom going down the left side of the full page splash.

CAPTION: “I knew he was in there, trapped, maybe injured. I was scared, my heart beating so loud in my head I thought my legs might give way.”

PAGE 16, PANEL 2

Insert.

Close up of the right side of her face on the left of the panel. She’s looking breathless, dishevelled, blood running down from her forehead.

CAPTION: “I knew I could just run. Not ever look back.”

CAPTION: “But maybe I’d run long enough.”

PAGE 16, PANEL 3

Insert.

Head to chest shot of her with the main street burning behind her.

CAPTION: “We all bleed. Some of us bleed blood, others bleed magic, but we all go out the same way. We all end up in the same place.”

PAGE 16, PANEL 4

FULL PAGE SPLASH: Full shot of her from behind stood watching outside the hotel as it burns, being consumed by flames, part of it collapsed in on itself, the ground bathed in a fiery glow.

CAPTION: “Truth is, we can’t always chose how that end comes but we can chose how we meet it, we can chose how we live the last moments of our life, we can try and make it count for something.”

CAPTION: “No matter how we go out, it‘s up to us how we face it.”

PAGE 17, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. In the foreground is a full shot of Valentyne and Amaris pressed against a building wall, up ahead of them is the flame and debris of the burning, wrecked main street.

AMARIS: Damn, it‘s looks like the balloon just went up.

VALENTYNE: It seems your brother has got himself into some trouble.

PAGE 17, PANEL 2

Similar to the previous panel but now it’s a head to chest shot of them.

AMARIS: We just need to get to him, I need to talk to him.

VALENTYNE: And if it’s gone beyond that?

AMARIS: There’s always options.

PAGE 17, PANEL 3

Similar to panel 1, with a full shot of them again but looking behind themselves as they hear Abel’s voice. In the foreground we see Abel’s boots up close as he is now somehow stood behind them.

ABEL ( O.P ): And what would those options be I wonder, dear sister.

PAGE 17, PANEL 4

Two panels on this bottom tier. Head to waist shot of Abel staring across at them, with an alleyway behind him he’s stood in front of. He bloodied and blackened by smoke after the explosion.

ABEL: I’m insulted, did you really think you could come here unnoticed?

ABEL: We are linked, you and I.

PAGE 17, PANEL 5

Similar to the previous panel but now it’s a closer head to chest shot.

ABEL: I had very much hoped that I was wrong, but like most things in life, hope always ends in nothing more than disappointment.

PAGE 18, PANEL 1

Two panels on this top tier. Head to chest profile shot of Valentyne and Amaris, looking across at Abel, with Amaris in the foreground.

VALENTYNE: And your disappointment justifies putting our people in danger. Using their loyalty, their belief like this is wrong.

PAGE 18, PANEL 2

Head and shoulders semi-profile shot of Abel, deep shadow cast on him.

ABEL: If Thomas Hyde carries out his plan then our people are already beyond imminent danger. Magic is our life blood, our very soul, without it we are nothing, without it we will fade and wither and die. We’ll be no better off than the Normals who wander these lands.

PAGE 18, PANEL 3

Three panels on this bottom tier. Similar to panel 1 but now it’s a head and shoulders shot of them, the emotion clear on Amaris’ face.

VALENTYNE: It is true, magic is our strength, I’d never ague that, but tell me, Abel, do we give up all that we are to protect all that we have?

PAGE 18, PANEL 4

Forehead to chin semi-profile shot of Abel, his face filling the panel. There is no doubt in his expression, he will not waver on this.

ABEL: We do what is necessary to survive.

PAGE 18, PANEL 5

Similar to panel 3 but now Amaris is looking down and it’s clear from her expression she’s struggling with this, that she’s feeling torn.

VALENTYNE: I see, very well, then let me ask you this question, are you willing to put that belief above even the life of your own sister?

PAGE 19, PANEL 1

Two panels on this top tier. Head and shoulders shot of Amaris, looking up again now, staring at her brother, willing him to answer.

AMARIS: Answer his question, brother.

PAGE 19, PANEL 2

A similar shot of Abel, the tension between them is palpable, neither of them want this, but yet neither is willing to back down either.

ABEL: I don’t have to. You took that choice out of my hands the moment you went to him. I told you when I left you had a choice to make.

PAGE 19, PANEL 3

Three panels on this bottom tier. Forehead to chin shot of Amaris from Abel’s P.O.V, determined, straining to stop her emotions showing.

AMARIS: Don’t make me do this.

PAGE 19, PANEL 4

Forehead to chin shot of Abel, equally determined, but his face full of emotion, if anything he’s utterly failing to keep his anger at bay.

ABEL: You’ve already done it.

PAGE 19, PANEL 5

A similar image to that of Valentyne and Magellan on page 3, panel 6, both in a defensive position, ready to strike, hands glowing.

PAGE 20, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Interior of the hotel, the lounge is consumed by flames, the curtains, the furniture. The bar has a collapsed beam that has crashed down into it. The place is wrecked. In the background Jesse is stood in the doorway, holding her hand up in front of her face against the sheer intense heat.

JESSE: Jeremiah?! Tom?! God dammit, this place is like a fucking oven!

PAGE 20, PANEL 2

Head to waist semi-profile shot of her, making her way through the flames and the wreckage of the lounge, face bathed in a fiery red.

JESSE: Where are you? If you can’t speak, just grunt, I’ll hear you, okay?

PAGE 20, PANEL 3

Similar to the previous panel but now it’s a closer head to chest shot.

JESSE: Jesse Miller, this could possibly be the worst mistake of your life.

PAGE 20, PANEL 4

Three panels on this bottom tier. Full shot of her looking down at Jeremiah, who’s lying face up in the foreground of the panel in a head to chest shot, face blackened by smoke, stained in his own blood.

JESSE: There you are.

PAGE 20, PANEL 5

Full shot of her now crouched by him, sitting him up, the effort of this and the damage the smoke is doing clearly showing on her face.

JESSE: *Cough, Cough.* Come on, you sonvabitch, damn you, get up!

PAGE 20, PANEL 6

Full shot of them from behind, Jesse holding him up as he walks unsteadily, slumped exhausted against her with his head sagged forward.

JESSE: That’s it, just one step after the other, let’s get you out of here.

PAGE 21, PANEL 1

FULL PAGE SPLASH: High view looking down on the main courtyard of the Byzantine Academy. It’s erupted into an all out fire fight now, with Elijah and Magellan engaging in a duel of colliding blue energy, Marissa and Valentyne stood either side of Elijah, engaging in trade off of bolts with the members of the Twelve.

Magellan’s followers at the front are also engaging, as are the Ministry guards, several of whom have fallen, each side clearly advancing on the other. In the bottom right of the panel are Noah and other professors shepherding students toward the main entrance. The Words ‘19 Years Later’ are written in chalk on the ground.

CAPTION: “Before things get any worse.”

PAGE 22, PANEL 1

Three panels on this top tier. Interior. Full shot of Noah shepherding the students, stood in the doorway as they rush pass him.

NOAH: Quickly now! Go straight to your rooms! That’s it, quickly now!

PAGE 22, PANEL 2

In the foreground is a head to chest shot of a Amaris, half turned in shock as the main entrance explodes, Noah is engulfed and other students are thrown through the air, debris flying across the hall.

S.F.X: BOOM!

PAGE 22, PANEL 3

Exterior shot of the main entrance, which has been blown apart. Noah is lying among the rubble, unmoving, bloodied, covered in dust.

PAGE 22, PANEL 4

Three panels on this bottom tier. Full semi-profile shot of Tom peering around the alcove wall, with Zoe and Zek stood behind him.

TOM: No. This is happening because of me.

TOM: It can’t go on.

PAGE 22, PANEL 5

Full shot of them from behind, peering out at the battle being engaged in the courtyard. In the foreground is Jobe, turned away from them, shrunk into himself, clearly terrified by what’s going on.

ZOE: Tom, this isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself.

ZEK: Elijah knows that, Tom, that’s why he wants to keep you safe.

TOM: People are getting hurt, Zek, they may even get killed.

PAGE 22, PANEL 6

Head and shoulders semi-profile shot of Tom, a determination in his eyes. He’s going to stop this happening no matter the cost to him.

TOM: And I can’t let that happen.

TOM: I won’t.

0 notes