#but yeah it was just those three against my mountainous hatred
Text
I Won't Be Afraid Anymore
Francisco Morales x Benjamin Miller
3k words
Technically a sequel to Boys of Summer, which in my opinion is the best one shot I have ever written for any fandom, but that's just me, but you don't have to have read Boys of Summer for this. It's def better with all that background and I do think it's a great story, but this functions as a one shot.
Summary: After finally confessing their feelings in the Andes, Benny and Frankie swear to each other that if they make it out alive, they will finally do something about what they've felt for each other since they met all those years ago. Problem is, no one around them knows they are gay... but they refuse to live in fear.
Warnings: Coming out, coming to terms with being gay, mentions of violence, mentions of hate crime (a punch), T*m warning, UHHHHH I think thats actually it.
Song titled by this incredible song by folk singer, Willi Carlisle who i adore and wanna marry.
***************
I’m gonna dance the way my grandma wanted
I’ll twist and shout and get down on it
Twist and shout and get down on it
Show these punks how much they want it
Dance like someone’s proud of me
Three Months Ago
Guiding Benny to turn over so his back was to Frankie’s chest, pulled flush against him, Frankie wrapped his arms around Benny in a protective grasp, holding him close, basking in the shared warmth on the cold mountain.
“What about the others?” Benny asked him.
“Let them see. I don’t care any more, don’t wanna hide. I love you.” Frankie promised, his racing thoughts finally as ease, allowing him to get some much needed sleep.
“Frank, promise me…” Benny’s voice trailed off as sleep pulled at him as well, safe and warm in Frankie’s strong arms.
“Anything, Carino.”
“If we live, we’ll finally figure this out, we’ll finally do something about this.”
“Think we can? After everything we’ve done, I got the baby, and who knows what’s going to happen tomorrow, and-”
“Yeah,” Benny wrapped his arms around Frankie’s, scooting back to feel every bit of him he could. “We can figure it out, all of it. Things are different now, way different from when we were kids… we can get married, raise your daughter, have a normal, happy life, together.”
“Yeah. You and me, together. Happily every after.”
“Happily ever after.”
And then i’ll get up early and haul ass
I’ll get there before the bosses ask
Get up early and haul ass
Hope they don’t check on my checkered past
I’ll haul ass to hеaven when it’s over
Three Months Later
Benny was numb to it at this point; Will and their dad screaming in the living room while he stared at the floor in front of them, sat on the couch with a swelling face.
Will had acted fast but their dad was faster, punching Benny square on the jaw before the former MMA fighter got any more out after ‘I’m gay’, so distracted by his own fear he forgot every word Will ever trained him with. He hadn’t hit Ben in decades, the violent abuse weaning off after Will hit his growth spurt and hit the gym before going into high school football, so neither brother saw the attack coming. Will had always protected Ben to the best of his ability, and today was no different. Despite his height, Benjamin Joseph Miller turned back into baby Benny at the sight of his dads rage, and the years of fighting were useless; he simply tried to cover his face from a second blow.
That second blow never came, Will yanking their dad away from his baby brother. Ben didn’t remember much after that. There was a ringing in his ears as Will and their dad went back and forth. Classic Will, thinking he can reason the old man’s hatred of what Benny was out of him.
It felt like hours, and neither noticed when Benny stood up and walked out the door of the farm, walking past that porch where him and Frankie shared their first intimate touches. It was as simple as Frankie icing a black eye Benny got that night from a fight, but Benny was a goner ever since.
And thеre i’ll stand in line and i’ll be counted
I’ll be sorted among the ones that doubted
As for the saved, i wish you well
I’m alright with going to hell
Seems like the city on the hill is gettin’ crowded
Three months ago
“I’ll see you in a bit, alright?”
Benny had been playing those 7 words from Will and Frankie’s departure in his head the last hour and a half since saying goodbye.
Will. What did that mean? Obviously, that he’s see him in a bit, that they’d both be back at their hotel after Will said his goodbye to Pope… but it had been nearly 2 hours. Was Will mad? Everyone saw. Everyone saw how he slept with Frankie’s arm wrapped around him, their bodies pressed together… Santi hadn’t said a word about it when he woke them, and Redfly barely spoke to him or Frankie… Will was quieter than normal. They had never spoken on how they felt about gay marriage and the like, the only person whose opinions he knew definitely were were Frankie and Tom, the later of whom had punched Frankie for kissing Ben nearly a decade ago.
Frankie. On the mountain, they promised each other they’d figure whatever this was between them out if they made it back alive. They did, Tom didn’t. When Frankie said goodbye to him, it was with a few short words and a tap… awkward and stiff. It made sense, really, it wasn’t much of a goodbye between them. They lived in the same area, Frankie came to most of Ben’s fights, they hung out. Pope was leaving, leaving.
Frankie hadn’t texted and Will hadn’t gotten back to the hotel, leaving Ben to lay on his side watching some Telenovela he only kinda understood and try not to throw up from anxiety. He didn’t turn over when Will finally entered the room behind him.
“Hey, man” His older brother said, obviously trying his best to casual.
“Hey.” That was all Benny could manage. Would Will no longer speak to him? Would he lose the only family that ever really cared about him? Did Will think he was gross or weird or-
“Can we talk about it?” Will interrupted his thoughts
Ben played coy. “About what?”
He heard a loud sigh, and could picture Will’s body language as the sound of him rubbing his face was quiet but evident. “About you and Cat-”
“I don’t wanna talk about this.”
“Can you look at me?”
“I’m going to bed” Fully clothed, Ben pulled on a blanket.
“Benny, please? We were finally talking, finally telling each other shit and I find out you’ve been hiding this big-”
“I’M NOT HIDING ANYTHING!” Ben shouted, pulling down the covers but still turned away from Will. “Nothing happened, it was just cold and-”
“BULLSHIT!”
There was a long silence before Benny heard the bathroom door slam and the water start. This was it, he lost his favorite person, the man who had supported him from the day he was born, protected him, loved him, hell, their mom even confessed one night Will used to change his pull-ups and feed him at 6 years old when Ben was 3 and their mom was passed out drunk… Will was his lifeblood, and now it was-
The door opened, and Benny pretended he was asleep as Will sat on Benny’s sid of the bed. It was quiet for a while and when dared to peak over, Will was propped up with his forearms on his legs and staring out the window.
“I love you, let’s get that out of the way. Nothin’s gonna change that.”
“I know.” He wasn’t sure if he did, honestly. Not because he didn’t trust his brother, but because of how many stories he’d heard in the Miami gay scene of family memeber being impossibly close, only for them to get disowned, even by those they trusted. But if Will knew Benny doubted him, it’d haunt him.
‘And I support you. I don’t hate you, nothin like that. I’m sorry this had to be a whole thing.“ Will gave a dry chuckle. “Back in high school, I wondered for a minute… just cause back then if you didn’t date, people just assumed, you know? So I wondered… and I promised myself if you came out, I was gonna be super cool about it. But we didn’t talk like that then, did we? I don’t want this to mess with us. Because I fucking love you, Benny. I love you. And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me you’re gay, and I’m sorry you didn’t feel you could tell me about Frankie, but I’m here for you. Always have been. I just havn’t always been the best at showing it.”
Finally, Benny sat up, facing his brother. “You have, you’ve always supported me I just… I don’t know why I didn’t tell you about being gay but… Frankie… that’s new.”
Will didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t think that’s true.”
With a sigh, Ben explained. “Well, today was new, anyway. Things had been…. Building, but… I don’t know.”
“You don’t gotta tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable, or you don’t feel it’s my business”
“Last night was the first time we admitted anything out loud… but… do you remember in 2009 when Frankie about broke his jaw?”
“Yeah?”
“Redfly saw us kiss. Decked Frankie for it…”
“Ben…”
Benny quickly spilled out what he was trying to say. “I was scared, after that… scared that you’d reject me and I just… I couldn’t lose you, Will” His voice broke, but his talking was soon cut off by a firm, strong, comforting hug.
“Ain’t ever gonna leave you alone, Benjamin. Alright?”
I will clear the beer cans from the coffee table
I will clean the ashtray on the coffee table
I will do a third thing i’m sure i’m able
I will say one nice thing before noon
Before one before two…
Three months later
“Hey man, can you come get me?”
“Yeah, where are you?”
“Country road”
“Drop a pin, getting in my car now.”
Santi had come back last month, staying with Frankie for the time being, and although Benny asked Will not to say anything to Santi about Frankie and Benny was certain Will kept his word, Benny assumed Will asked him to come to town for a while. Ben had decided to come out to their dad; rip the bandaid off.
It wasn’t long before Santi’s shitty ass pickup was pulled up beside him, Santi leaning over to open up the door, “Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”
The Mean Girls reference was enough to make Ben smile just a bit, but not enough for him to keep the smile as Santi drove on.
“You gonna tell me why you’re walking in the middle of butt fuck no where in this heat?”
Ben groaned. “Do I have to?”
“No, but I’m gonna take a guess that coming out to your dad didn’t go well.”
Whipping his head to the left, Benny groaned. “I told Will not to tell you!”
“Tranquila, Huracán. Will didn’t say shit. You forget I’ve known Frankie longer than you. You don’t think he told me what happened between you? I figured you were telling your dad. You’re not out to the farm for a whole lot else.”
Slumping down in the seat wasn’t enough to hide. “God dammit. He told you? How long ago?”
“After Columbia, Ben, but I’ve known a long time. I’m not dumb. Neither is Will, but he can be oblivious. You two have been making goo goo eyes at each other since we first visited the farm.”
“You didn’t say anything all this time?”
Santi shrugged. “Wasn’t my business. Figured you two would sort it out eventually.”
Santi didn’t bug him about details, and didn't want a heart to heart, he just drove Ben to the Miller brothers house.
“You should call Frankie, you know.” Said spoke with his arm around Ben’s seat, backing into the driveway.
Benny only shook his head. “He’s got enough going on.”
Frankie and Jess, his ex, were trying to do arbitration instead of taking custody to court. They weren’t married, and Jessica packed up to her sisters without hassle, leaving the only issue being their daughter, Elena. Both were trying their best, but It was still a lot, and clearly the baby picked up on the stress and missed her parents, which only hurt Frankie more. Benny thought he was a good dad, in the times he’d bring her over to see Ben and Will.
“He’d want you to talk to him, you know that.”
“I know. But I can handle it.”
Santi sighed. “You keep things inside a lot, Ben. You spend all your time trying to make others laugh, but you don’t allow anything for yourself. You think we haven't all noticed how you’ve been since we’ve gotten back? We’ve all seen it, we’re worried and-”
“You talk about me behind my back?” Ben’s voice was incredulous.
“Of course we do! Just like you and I talk about Will or Frankie, and Frankie and I talk about you and Will-”
“You talk about me to Frankie?”
The older man sighed again. “Yes, Ben. I know this is an adjustment but your boyfriend had been my friend for-”
“He’s not my boyfriend-”
“You see each other every damn day, what else would you call it?”
Benny opened the door, frustrated, embarrassed and flustered. Him and Frankie hadn’t made anything… official. They’d occasionally hang out at each others places but it was innocent in case Will or Santi walked in, and their time alone usually involved hanging out like they did as friends, only sometimes sneaking away to secluded areas to do such salacious things as holding hands and closed mouth kisses. Neither were ready to take the next step it seemed.
He muttered a small ‘thanks for the ride’ and quickly walked up the porch.
Benny had a tad more experience with sex when he’d take weekend trips to Miami, but relationships… none. Frankie had dated- god had he dated- but not with men… it was new to both of them, and of course, neither of them were ‘out’. The ordeal of having to come out seemed mortifying to them, isn’t that something you do in college? Not in your 30’s. Benny decided to take the leap and tell his dad first, someone who he was barely in contact with and whose opinion didn’t matter much but he figured it was still necessary… he had fought against the idea of Will coming, but as he felt his bruising face while he unlocked his door, leaving Santi in the truck, he was glad his big brother was there to protect him again.
And i will love whoever i well please
I will kiss my friends upon the cheek
Kiss my friends upon the cheek
Repeat till i believe
I don’t have to be ashamed of what i love
Benny laid down on the carpeted floor of the living room, exhausted and beat. It had been… a long 3 months since getting back in the states. Tom’s death left a black cloud over him, even if the man was a prick who punched the man he loved… he was still his leader, his brother in arms, his friend… it was a hard bond to break. The funeral broke Ben, seeing his family, his wife that refused to talk to him or the guys, refused the folded flag Will offered… Benny didn’t want to admit how badly the loss affected him, but it did. That, and everything with Frankie.. It was a lot. But it was nice to have Will to lean on, as always. Ben let him on on the truth, the weekends to Miami, the full story of him and Frankie falling in love… everything, everything that Will had been there for but only witnessed in the peripheral, so unaware that his baby brother fell in love with one of his best friends the day he brought the man home on leave that fateful forth of july.
It was a long time before he saw Will called, texted, and called again but Benny ignored him, he didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t until the door opened that Benny broke his starting contest with the ceiling fan.
“I’m fine-” He began to explain his position on his brother to who he presumed was the other Miller, but was surprised to see Frankie standing above him, holding flowers and looking nervous.
“You don’t seem fine, Ben.”
Benny flopped back down on the ground again. “Fine, you got me. Santi call you?”
“Yeah, and Will, asking where you were. I asked him to give us a minute.”
He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Guess it’s all out in the open now.”
“Does that scare you?”
“Out of my mind, yeah.”
Merely humming, Frankie held up the flowers. “These are for you.”
Finally, Ben smiled, sitting up on his elbows. “Thank you.”
Making himself at home, Frankie instructed Ben to stay there. He put the flowers in a 20oz beer glass, the closest thing the Millers had to a vase, and took the frozen peas out of the freezer. Soon, Ben was being coaxed to lay in Frankies lap as he placed the pea’s, wrapped in a towel, over his jaw.
“Guess we’re even now.” Frankie mused. “We’ve both taken punches in the face for each other.”
With a huffed laughed, Benny looked up at his lover. “Thank you for taking care of me, Fish.”
“Always will, Benjamin.” Frankie cop’s, taking a moment to crush a stray lock out of Benny’s handsome face before asking. “You gonna tell me why you didn’t tell me you were coming out to your dad?”
Ben groaned at that. “I didn’t want to ‘come out’ Frank! I don’t want it to be a thing! I get why a lot of people do and that's fine I just… I just wanna be me, you know? I had my big emotional moment with Will. I don’t want to have to make it a whole…” Ben waved his hands around for comedic effect. “A whole hoopla!” he said with a lil voice, imitating the SpongeBob episode.
Despite Benny’s obvious attempts at hiding his pain in comedy, Frankie laughed. He was funny, that’s one reason he loved Ben, but he it was his job to get past that. “I understand, but I still wish you had told me you were talking to your dad. It’s a pretty big moment in your life, and I’d like to be there to support my…” But even Frankie had to pause at that.
“Your what, Frank?” Ben’s eyes were large and pleading, hoping for an answer from him. “What are we? What am I to you?”
Before his next words, Frankie took the deep breath required. “My boyfriend, if you’ll have me…”
Frankie watched as Benny’s face split into a wide, jovial grin. “Yes! Fuck yes!” He whooped.
Bending over, Frankie blessed Benny with an upside kiss, Benny’s head still propped up in his lap. Laying his new boyfriend down on the carpet, Frankie joined him, taking Benny’s hand and nuzzling up his head onto Ben’s chest. Benny kissed the top of Frankie’s head, giving his large hand a squeeze.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Frankie, I just…”
“You didn’t want to burden me. I know.”
“Santi, you bastard”
Frankie laughed along with him. “Yeah, he is. But I love him.”
“Yeah. I do to.”
They laid there together for a moment, content to simply exist together. It was Frankie who broke the silence.
“Ben?”
“Yeah?”
Turning his head, Frankie kissed his chest before continuing. “We don’t have to come out yet. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t ready for. We can wait. Will and Pope know, they are the ones who matter the most, and they love us, support us… we can just keep it like this.”
Benny thought about this for a while before a proposition. “Can we maybe just… not come out?”
“You mean like… never? Just stay in the closet? I can’t do that Ben, I can’t keep a secret like that, my daughter-”
“No, no.” Benny was quick to reassure, using the hand that was wasn’t holding Frankie’s to cradle the man’s head closer to him. “I mean, maybe we just… date. Like, hold hands, kiss, starting posting annoying couples Instagram photos at a pumpkin patch, matching shirts that say ‘I’m with stupid’ that point to each other-”
“Do couples wear shirts calling each other stupid?”
“-get a dog and call it our fur baby-”
“-I have an actual baby-”
“-get really obnoxious christmas pajamas-”
“Okay I think I’m picking up what you’re laying down.” Frankie cut him off with a chuckle.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We just date. No big show, if we can help it.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah. Just us. I mean, there may be a few questions considering we’ve been friends for 15 years but that’s to be expected, even with normal couples.”
“Straight couples, Ben.” Frankie chastised. “We are normal.”
“Nothing about us has ever been done normal, Frankie”
Frankie sighed. “Yeah. Lot of wasted time. But we’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Ben sighed contently. “We’re here now. And we don’t have to be afraid anymore.”
They laid there until the door opened, Will and Santi tentatively walking inside, asking if they could come in.
Santi was first, laying down beside Ben and placing his head next to Frankie’s.
Will sat down next to Frankie, taking his friend’s free hand and laying so that his head was touching Benny’s, their blonde hair intertwining, but not before taking a concerned peak at his brother's bruising jaw. “I love you guys. Both of you.”
“Me too.” Santi agreed. “I’m glad we can all be honest about this. ”
“We love you guys too.” Ben spoke for them both. “We decided we’re not coming out. We’re just gonna be out. Anyone that’s got a problem … Well, that's their problem.”
Frankie affirmed his boyfriend's words. “Not ours, not anymore."
“I won’t be afraid anymore, no I won’t be afraid anymore
Lord knows I’ve done some dumb shit and I plan to do some more
But I won’t be afraid anymore” I Won't Be Afraid, Willi Carlisle.
********************
WHEEEEEEWW I love my babies so much
technically I'm posting this an hour before june ends so its still pride month like i promised right?
LISTEN T WILLI CARLISLE OKAY HES SO FUCKING GOOD your hearts a tent, cheap cocain and tulsas last magician are my favs besides this song.
Remember babes, you don't have to be ashamed of who you love, sighed, me, a bisexual who is v religous.
tagging those who were really hype about Boys of Summer, but no presure to read at all!!!!
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @howaboutcastiel @maplemind @velocibeewords @gogh-with-the-flow @i-own-loki @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @milkymoon2483 @frenchiereading
#francisco morales#frankie morales#benny miller#frankie morales x benny miller#bisexual frankie morales#garrett hedlund#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier#will miller#santiago garcia#frankie catfish morales#triple frontier angst#frankie morales angst#benny miller angst#fishben#frankie morales fic#francisco catfish morales
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender
Pairing: Keith/Shiro
Summary:
It’s been a long while since Keith got in a fight. Long enough to make it an unlikely occurrence.
The last time he did, Shiro had really thought it would be the last.
My entry for Day 6: Nursing & Ministering of @shirosaveskeith week is up! Where Keith gets in a fight, and Shiro is there to help and comfort him :)
Read on AO3
The day is already old by the time Shiro walks out of the Garrison. The gates buzz open when he shows his key card, and the guard smiles at him.
“Done for the day, Shirogane?”
“I should hope so,” Shiro says, returning the smile. “You’re off soon too, right?”
“Yeah, just a couple hours left until Stan comes along to replace me.”
“Give him my regards. And enjoy your day off, Ray, you’ve earned it.”
“Will do. See you around. And don’t work yourself to the ground just yet, eh.”
Shiro laughs politely and waves over his shoulder as he walks away. He’s been having more or less the same conversation with the man for the last three years, ever since he started working this post. The Garrison is Shiro’s home; no, it’s more than that. It’s a small world, all by itself, and Shiro has been part of it for nearly as long as he can remember himself.
He makes his way through the front lawn, then walks across the parking lot to his car. It’s Sunday and almost everyone has the day off, so it’s empty save for his own car and a couple others. Most of the cadets have been given they day off, too; those who stay in the Garrison are only ever allowed outside once a month or so, and they’re never meant to stray too far. Shiro sometimes sees them at the arcade or the pool bar in the city, laughing and roughhousing. Keith is rarely amongst them, but then again, he’s always been a bit of a loner.
Shiro hasn’t seen Keith since Friday. He wonders how he’s doing, whether he’s out, too. Shiro should probably send him a text as soon as he gets home.
The car engine hums when Shiro slips the key in the ignition, then he’s driving down the long, straight road across the desert to the city. He turns on the radio and rolls down the windows, letting the warm and humid late summer air blow through.
An old song comes on, and before long Shiro is singing along under his breath.
The boy with the thorn in his side
Behind the hatred there lies
A murderous desire for love
The sky is painted in shades of gold, amber and red as the sun dips beneath the western mountain range in the distance. It occurs to him that he hasn’t gone hoverbiking with Keith in a while. He’s been so busy with work, and all the preparations for the Kerberos mission, that he hasn’t had much time for him.
A thread of guilt laces the thought. He really should make more time for Keith. The mission is still months away, but he won’t be seeing him again for a while after he leaves. He wants to spend as much time with him as he can now, to make up for some of what he’ll lose.
How can they look into my eyes
And still they don’t believe me?
How can they hear me say those words
Still they don’t believe me?
The traffic lights ahead turn orange, then red. Shiro pulls the car to a stop and drums his fingers against the side of the car, in time with the music. He should make a playlist for Keith, when he has the time. All of his favourite songs in one place. It’s as cheesy a gesture as it gets, but Shiro’s always liked making them, and he’s going to make one for himself anyway for the long months he’ll spend on the way to Kerberos, so why not share it with Keith? Their tastes in music don’t exactly match, but it can’t hurt to show him some new songs. Besides, he’ll have something to listen to while Shiro is away.
The thought warms him. Shiro smiles, waiting for the light to turn green.
How can they see the love in our eyes
And still they don’t believe us?
And if they don’t believe us now
Will they ever believe us?
The light ahead changes, and the cars before him start rolling forward. Shiro prepares to follow, when a strange sound from outside catches his attention.
It sounds like the pattering of feet, coming down the lane. It is a hot and lazy evening, and the streets are quiet, so Shiro hears it clearly. A few shouts and grunts, and then a sharp, pained sound. A punch, Shiro thinks, or a kick; a hard one, too. More shouts and swears follow it, and as soon as Shiro turns the corner in his car, he sees it.
Read the rest on AO3!
#voltron#sheith#shiro/keith#shiro#keith#takashi shirogane#keith kogane#shirosaveskeithweek#shirosaveskeith#johaerys writes
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 16
Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊
Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 16 - This Venerable One is Stunned
This really couldn't be blamed on the beast-like Mo Ran. Anyone in such a claustrophobic space, trapped with someone he'd slept with countless times - regardless of whether the sex meant anything, whether it was out of revenge or out of love - smelling the familiar smell on the other person, he could never help the lurching feeling in his heart.
Besides, Mo Ran himself was a bastard.
Shi Mei was his white moonlight. He absolutely couldn't bear to touch it, and he doesn't want to destroy it.
He patronized Chu Wanning and only Chu Wanning. All of his darkness, bestial-lust, and bone-crushing rage could be vented with no fear of repercussion.
He crushed him, tore him up underneath him, forcing him to take part in all the tricks he would never try with Shi Mei.
In his previous life, every time he saw Chu Waning tilting his neck and moving his throat, he felt he was about to degenerate into a vicious beast that only knew how to drink blood. He wanted to bite the man's throat open, grind his teeth, suck out his blood, chew through his flesh and bones.
He didn't care about Chu Wanning. He could defile him as much as he wanted.
At the end of it all, his body had developed a habit. Every time he smelled the scent of Chu Wanning's body, his stomach would feel like it's on fire, his heart would itch, and he wanted to tie him down to a bed and fuck him senseless.
There was a moment of silence in the coffin and Mo Ran's racing heart could be heard.
He knows that Chu Wanning's face was very close. He could feel the other's breathing. If he bit it right now, Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to break free, but. . .
Better to forget it.
Mo Ran leaned back and distanced himself from Chu Wanning. It wasn't really easy considering there wasn't really much room in the coffin.
"I'm sorry, Shizun." Mo Ran snorted and pretended to be meek. "I didn't expect the coffin to - shake!"
As soon as he spoke, the coffin slanted again. Mo Ran rolled into Chu Wanning's arms again with a grunt.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran retreated again, the coffin shook again, and the cycle continued several more times.
"Un-fucking-believable." Mo Ran leaned back again.
The golden boy and girl were probably walking on a slope, and the inside of the coffin wall was slippery. He didn't hold on for too long, Mo Ran helplessly rolled on top of Chu Wanning.
"Shizun. . ." He bit his lip, feeling aggravated.
This guy originally looked kind of cute as a young man. If he deliberately hid his wolf tail and act like a puppy, he could actually pretend to be similar.
Chu Wanning didn't say a word.
Mo Ran really didn't want to roll around again, so he simply gave up the struggle: "I didn't mean to."
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran whispered: "But the wound on my back still hurts so much. . ."
In the darkness, Chu Wanning seemed to sigh gently. The gongs and drums outside were a bit noisy and Mo Ran wasn't sure whether he had really heard it.
But the next moment, Mo Ran smelled a clearer fragrance of begonia flowers, and Chu Wanning's hand wrapped behind his back, blocking the gap that he might have crashed into.
However, it wasn't a hug. Chu Wanning's arms were empty, deliberately avoiding physical contact with Mo Ran. Only the clothes and Mo Ran were touching each other, but this posture was still somewhat intimate.
"Be careful, don't hit it again." The voice was heavy, like porcelain soaked in a stream, with a kind of ancient demure. If he listened to it without hatred in mind, it was actually very nice.
". . . Alright."
Suddenly no one spoke anymore.
At this point, Mo Ran was still a young teenager who wasn't as tall as an adult, so he leaned in Chu Wanning's arms, his forehead fitting underneath Chu Wanning's chin.
This feeling was both familiar and unfamiliar.
What was familiar was the person lying next to him.
What was unfamiliar was the position they were in.
Once upon a time, the past events all transpired in Wushan Hall where he was lying on Life-Death Peak. The Immortal Emperor, who had become a lonely man, held Chu Waning in his arms for dear life in the long, breathless darkness.
At that time, he was already higher than Chu Wanning, and his strength was greater than that of his shizun's. His arms were like iron bars of a cage, locking the little remaining warmth in his arms, like holding the last fire burning in the world.
He bowed his head and kissed Chu Wanning's long black hair, and then greedily attached himself to his face, burying deep into the neck of the other, biting and nibbling without pity.
"I hate you, Chu Wanning. I hate you so much."
There was some hoarseness in his voice.
"But you're all I have left."
A violent smash shattered Mo Ran's memories. The sound of gongs and drums suddenly stopped, and there was dead silence surrounding them.
"Shizun. . ."
Chu Wanning stretched out his hand. He touched his lips, and said solemnly: "Don't talk, we're here."
Sure enough, there was no sound of footsteps outside, and there was only dead silence.
Chu Wanning's fingertips ignited in a cluster of pale golden flames and stroked the wall of the coffin to make a narrow opening, just large enough for two people to see through.
Sure enough, they were carried to the outskirts of Caidie Town. The earth temple dedicated to the Master of Ceremonies Ghost was already densely packed with coffins. The fragrance of the butterfly powder in the air became even denser, floating into the coffin through the wood.
Mo Ran suddenly felt something was wrong: "Shizun, do you think that the scent here, as well as the scent in the illusion, seems to be a bit different from the smell in Young Master Chen's coffin?"
". . . What do you mean?"
Mo Ran was more sensitive to the smell. He said: "When we were on the north mountain, the moment the coffin opened, the smell that floated out was very good. Considering it was the butterfly fragrance incense, there was nothing to make me dislike it. But since entering the illusion, I always felt that the smell was similar, but there were some subtle differences. I couldn't figure out what was different, but now. . . I think I probably know."
Chu Wanning looked at him sideways: "You don't like the smell?"
Mo Ran stuck against the gap, still staring outside, and then said: "Yeah. I haven't liked the smell of incense since I was a child. The smell here, and in the illusion, isn't the hundred butterfly fragrance poweder at all, but a special high fragrance used by the people of Caidie Town to burn when worshiping the Master of Ceremonies Ghost. Look there—"
Chu Wanning followed his line of sight and looked at the clay incense burner in front of the earth temple. Sure enough, three arm-thick vertical incense sticks were burning, and they were passing a sweet smell into the wind.
The people in Caidie Town were good at making all kinds of powders from various flowers, so all the fragrances that are used to pray to the gods were made in their own town, and they don't buy them from other places. Since the flowers used are all planted in the outskirts of the town, the smell that turned out wasn't that different from something made by an amateur.
Chu Wanning pondered: "Could it be that the fragrance in the coffin of Young Master Chen had nothing to do with the smell in the illusionary realm?"
Before he could ponder the details of this new discovery, a dazzling red light from the earth temple interrupted his thoughts. The two people hiding in the coffin looked together and saw that the temple was shining brightly, reflecting its brilliant surroundings. There was a row of iron shelves on the side of the temple with red lotus lanterns for making wishes. Those lotus lanterns had originally been extinguished, but now they were all being lit up, one by one.
The boys and girls guarding all the coffins knelt down one after another, chanting: "The Master of Ceremonies has come down to earth to guide us wild ghosts and lonely souls to be free from eternal suffering, to meet a good man, to lie in the same coffin, and to be companions in the Underworld."
Through the sound of chanting, the Master of Ceremonies Ghost in the temple radiated golden immortal light. Then, she lowered her eyelids, slowly moved the corners of her mouth, and leapt off the offering platform.
Her movements were quite elegant and graceful, her appearance a million times more elegant
It's a pity that the body was made of mud and she was too heavy. The girl's house, with a bang, was smashed into a big hole in the ground.
Mo Ran: "Pfft."
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost also seemed dissatisfied with the placement of her feet. She stared at the big pit in the ground for a while before pacing out of the pit and straightening her clothes.
She looked like a woman wearing heavy makeup, dressed in red and green, quite cheerful. In the dark night, it turned its neck and came to the hundred people buried in coffins. The night breeze was full of the stench of corpses. She seemed to be in a better mood. She slowly opened her arms and let out a few giggles.
"If you believe in me and make offerings to me, you will be able to meet a good destiny and complete the lifelong event that you weren't able to complete during your life." The tender voice drifted in the night, and the ghosts kowtowed in excitement.
"Blessings of the Master of Ceremonies--"
"Please let the Master of Ceremonies bless this marriage--"
The pleadings were coming from all around her and the Master of Ceremonies seemed to be enjoying herself. She slowly moved among the rows of coffins, and her long nails scraped against the bright red vermilion lacquered coffin boards, making a sharp and ear-piercing sound.
Mo Ran was curious: "Shizun, I remember you said that demons, immortals, ghosts, gods, humans and the devil belong to the six realms, but this immortal doesn't like in heaven. How come she's with these ghosts in the underground instead?"
"Because it cares about ghost marriages, and her main food source is the offerings of the ghosts." Chu Wanning said. "Ghosts can greatly increase her power, otherwise she wouldn't be able to cultivate her immortal body in only a hundred years. With such benefits, she's happy to stay with her 'friends' in the underworld."
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost walked around the group of coffins and returned to the front. The empty and tender voice rang again: "Open a coffin and I'll bless the marriage. Starting from the left."
Following its order, the first coffin on the left slowly opened, and the golden boy and girl were greeted by the two corpses inside staggeringly crawled out, and the gorgeous flaming red dress made the face of the dead look pale and lifeless.
The married couple slowly approached the Master of Ceremonies Ghost and knelt down.
The Master of Ceremonies Ghost put her hand between them and said: "In the name of the master of ceremonies, I grant you this marriage after death. From now on, you will be husband and wife, man and woman together in joy."
Mo Ran rolled his eyes and muttered: "If you can't write a poem, don't do it. It should be a good marriage vow, so why does it sound so lewd?"
Chu Wanning said coldly: "You have a dirty mind."
Mo Ran shut up.
But it didn't take long for the Master of Ceremonies Ghost to personally prove that it wasn't Mo Ran who was dirty-minded, but the god in charge of the marriage who was the lewd one.
He saw that the married corpses seemed to have swallowed some kind of aphrodisiac. They were already two dead ghosts, but suddenly they began to tear each other’s clothes, feverishly kissing and embracing each other passionately. They were entangled so shamelessly in public.
Chu Wanning: ". . ."
Mo Ran: ". . ."
"In the name of the Master of Ceremonies, I give you the joys of heaven. If Yin and Yang can intermingle, what's the harm with life and death!"
The cry of the Master of Ceremonies Ghost became more shrill and much louder.
The movements of the two corpses became more and more exaggerated. After removing the clothes, the male corpse was actually full of passion, full of energy, and no different from a living person.
Mo Ran was stunned: ". . . Is this. . . fucking. . . okay???"
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
#2ha novel#2ha translation#2ha#english translation#chinese bl#chinese novel#danmei novel#danmei#yaoi novel#yaoi#bl novel#chu wanning#mo ran#ranwan#the husky and his white cat shizun translation#the husky and his white cat shizun
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Say Love [one shot]
Summary: You and Bucky are at a stand-still in your relationship, all because neither of you can say three little words.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: Idiots in love, a smidge of angst, the rest is fluff.
Notes: So this is a fun fic, but it’s also a very real fic. I know I’ve had that should-I-shouldn’t-I when it comes to saying the L word in a relationship, so this is for anyone that’s had that struggle. Enjoy & let me know what you think! x
P.S. - it’s also a birthday present to @captain-kelli aka MY WIFE 💕
It’s palpable, the tension. A smothering, suffocating heavy cloud stretching between the two of you, and you almost wonder how you got here, to this hurdle in your relationship.
It builds like an avalanche - a tiny, harmless snowball that’s picked up speed as it rolls, rolls, rolls, until it’s so big you can’t be in the same room as him without feeling like you’re walking on eggshells.
Even now, on a night meant for the two of you, you feel distanced from him - despite sitting beside each other on the couch. You’re pressed up against his side, It’s a Wonderful Life playing on the screen - a favorite of Bucky’s. It’s supposed to be a bonding time for you, but you’ve never felt so far away from him.
His arm is around you, but it’s stiff, and where his fingers would normally dance across your skin, raise goosebumps in their wake, now they’re still, limp. Careless.
And despite the movie being a favorite, he looks utterly bored when you peek up at him from under your lashes. Eyes vacant, fingers of his vibranium hand holding up his head, teeth chewing on his bottom lip.
You wonder if he feels it too, this mountain that’s suddenly erected between you.
You’ve been dating eight months - is he bored with you already? Disinterested? “Just not feeling it anymore”? Is he too afraid of hurting you, and it’s why he hasn’t said anything yet? Is he waiting for you to get fed up and leave?
Because you won’t, you can’t. Despite this emotional gap between you, you feel a connection to him you haven’t felt before. He’s level-headed where you can be chaotic - being an Avenger is probably to thank for that - and he’s soft spoken despite his large, often gruff exterior.
He’s a perfect counterbalance to who you are - how could you not fall in love with him almost as soon as you met him?
Part of you believes that if Bucky didn’t want to be with you, he wouldn’t. He’s sure of himself, thanks to the hard work he’s done for himself since being officially recruited as an Avenger. He’d told you a little of how difficult it had been - in the 30s and 40s, people didn’t openly talk about their struggles, least of all with a psychologist; they just lived with them.
It only made you fall for him even harder, for the sheer strength he has and the determination to come to grips with what’s happened to him.
But it seems those feelings are one-sided, and the revelation sits like lead in your stomach. With pressure building behind your eyes, you fake a yawn.
“I think I should go,” you mutter, thankful that your voice doesn’t crack. Bucky turns his eyes to you, wide and - is that disappointment?
“Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll call you a cab?”
You stand up with a shake of your head. “Not necessary, I’ll get an Uber on my way down.”
He walks you to the elevator, hands in his pockets and feeling awkward. The kiss you share is quick, chaste, and stiff, much like the rest of your evening tonight. When you turn your back to him to enter the elevator, your chin wobbles.
Bucky stands in the hallway for a while after you’ve gone, his thoughts running away from him. He can’t be the only one between you who felt that distance, could he?
Have you changed your mind about him? Realized the former Winter Soldier isn’t who you want to give your heart to? Perhaps all the atrocities he’s committed are truly too much for you to handle.
He couldn’t blame you if they were and yet... You own his entire being, body and soul. If you were to leave him, a large part of him would go with you, a piece he isn’t sure he’d be able to get back.
He knows you noticed his demeanor tonight, the way he hid behind himself in an effort of self-preservation. He nearly made himself bleed from biting his tongue so hard to keep three words he didn’t think he’d ever say from slipping out. He didn’t want to scare you, to make you run off,
but it seems he managed to do that anyways.
Bucky leans forward, bonks his head on the elevator once, twice, three times before a door opening behind him makes him pause.
“Are you done brooding yet?”
Bucky’s shoulders drop, in no mood for Sam’s ribbing. The man teases out of love and respect - it’s just how their relationship is - but tonight, he can’t bring himself to return the dig. He turns away from the elevator, shoulders up to his ears and hands still in his pockets.
Sam’s face changes when he takes in Bucky’s posture, and he sighs, leaning up against the frame of his door.
“What’s up, Tin Man?” he prods gently.
Bucky’s eyes find a place just over Sam’s shoulder, torn between opening up to Sam about the turn his relationship has taken and remaining silent, attempt to sort through it himself.
A helpless look at Sam, and the dark-skinned man opens the door wider, turning to the side to allow Bucky entrance.
“Talk to me, man. You look like someone kicked your dog.”
Sam offers Bucky a seat on his couch, an expensive, black leather that feels as cushy as a cloud. The man leans back, crosses his arms over his chest. The black metal of his arm catches the low lighting in Sam’s room, turns the gold bronze.
“I think she’s going to break up with me,” he starts, and before he knows it he’s spilling all of his insecurities to Sam. The other man listens patiently, cocking his head curiously at some parts and pursing his lips for others.
Bucky half-expects the man to jab at him - joke about how she finally realized what a mess he is - but to his surprise (and relief; he has enough self-hatred for both of them), Sam nods sagely and looks almost empathetic. It would throw Bucky for a loop, if he and Sam haven’t come to some middle ground.
Steve would be so proud of them.
“Then she’s not worth it, Buck,” comes Sam’s response almost immediately after Bucky’s finished. The brunet’s eyes go wide. “If she can’t handle you as you are, if that’s too much for her, then it isn’t worth it. I like her, man, but I like you a lot better, and you deserve somebody who’s going to take your baggage, embrace it, accept it, and help make you better for it. And you shouldn’t have to settle for anything less.”
Bucky wants to argue, say that you are absolutely worth it, but the words get stuck in his throat. He knows Sam is right, acknowledges that yes, he has more baggage than most, but also that he does deserve someone who’ll accept him regardless of it.
But haven’t you? Eight months in and Bucky had been sure you’d accepted him for who he had been, not just who he is now. But perhaps you’d changed your mind. Perhaps you’d thought long and hard over it and realized a broken soldier wasn’t who you wanted at all.
He couldn’t blame you, but it still hurts to think about.
“I think you need to talk to her,” Sam continues, watching the emotions play out over Bucky’s face - shock, sadness, realization, and finally, utter heartbreak. Sam feels no pleasure whatsoever in telling Bucky this, but he’s never one to beat around the bush. His years as a VA counselor wouldn’t let him.
“Talk to her, and find out where her head’s at. It’s the only way you’re going to know.”
You don’t talk to Bucky for two weeks. After leaving the Avengers compound, you thought it best to distance yourself, prepare your heart for the eventuality that Bucky would break it off. But it’s even worse that he doesn’t contact you at all, and you begin to resent it.
Bitterness ekes into everything you say and do, your very being so clouded by resentment you’re not even sure who you are anymore. You don’t recognize yourself or the cynicism your attitude seems to have adopted.
You hate it.
In a whirlwind of anger, resentment, and self-loathing, you drive to the compound. Flash the card Bucky had given you for access whenever he didn’t come pick you up himself. The gate rolls open, and your heart pounds with the notion that this might be the last time you'll ever see it.
You take the elevator up to Bucky’s floor, hands twisting together as you sort through every thought you’ve had in the past two weeks. Doing so reignites your anger, puts a scowl on your face that could curdle milk.
Bucky’s surprised to see you - even more so to see that look on your face - when he opens his door after you’ve slammed your fist against it.
“What the fuck is going on, Bucky?” you demand, and he winces, steps aside and waves you in so that the two of you don’t draw attention.
His shoulders hunch, hands sliding into his pockets - a clear sign that he’s feeling out of his element and is trying to make himself very, very small. In the space of his bedroom, your anger cools a little, fond memories of time spent in the space taking you over.
“Are we over?” you ask, outright, and Bucky’s head snaps up in alarm. “I mean, did I miss any hints you might’ve been dropping? Am I just making a fool of myself by being here, trying to fix this?”
Bucky’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, rendered speechless and dumb by your questioning. It isn’t what he’d been expecting, and it’s caught him off guard.
“I- what?” He shakes his head as your eyes turn sad and manages to connect his brain to his mouth. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
Eyes going steely, you straighten your shoulders. “Well, considering you acted like you’d rather have been anywhere else but with me the last time we saw each other, paired with the fact I haven’t heard from you in two weeks? What am I supposed to think?”
He laughs shortly, incredulous, until your eyes flare up in anger again, and he reins it in, but only just. He just can’t believe what he’s hearing from you, how all this time he thought you were bored of him - or scared. Either way, the relief warming his chest keeps the smile on his face.
Your posture is rigid and you move to take a step back as he closes the distance, but his arms wrap around you and tug you into his chest. The kiss he lays on you is firm but warm, an outpouring of emotion that slowly destroys the wall you’ve erected just to face him.
His hands are warm, even the metal appendage, where he grasps your face to keep you close to him. He sighs when your arms wrap around his waist, hands gliding up to his shoulders to grasp his shirt, and he swallows the little whimper you let loose.
Until he tastes the salt on your lips and he pulls away.
Your eyes are glassy, tears leaking from the corners to slide glistening tracks down your cheeks. His thumbs brush them away as he smiles softly.
“Sweetheart, don’t cry,” he coos. He kisses you again before looking you in the eye. He wants to make sure you know he means every word. “I’m sorry I was a little emotionally constipated. I- I felt it, too, that weird air the last time you were here, and I thought you - I thought you had changed your mind about me, about us, and that you were just too shy to say anything. So I gave you your space even though it nearly killed me to do it. I thought it was what you wanted, but clearly I was wrong.”
Bottom lip trembling, you sniffle and wipe your nose on your sleeve. “No, I... I could have called. I know you felt a little off that night, too. I was just. I didn’t know how much I could push, if you even wanted that conversation at all. I guess I just thought it was your way of saying you were done with me.”
He chuckles, deep and reverberating, and he shakes his head. “Never gonna happen. I love you too much.”
He enjoys the change on your face - the surprise and then the utter elation - and he grins like the cat that ate the canary.
“You what?”
Bucky isn’t sure why he’d been so scared to say it before, not when you’re looking at him like he’s the center of your universe.
“I love you,” he repeats, punctuating it with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “And I should’ve said it sooner, especially if you were having doubts.”
He’s entranced by the way you chew your lip thoughtfully, shrug a shoulder shyly. “I could’ve said it, too. I love you, Bucky.”
The smile that breaks upon his face is blinding, radiant. This man was born to smile like this all the time. And he’s mine, you think. He’s all mine.
You giggle, tuck your face into his neck as you shake your head. Still grinning, he holds you tight, chuckles in kind when you say, “We’re idiots.”
“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “But idiots in love.”
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: Yeah, I broke my ghosting and wrote an one shot. My mental health has not been very good these days, and writing helps me.
I have no ideia how to feel about this. I started it with angst in mind but I think it ended up way less angsty then I had planned? Either way, I hope it does not look as bad as it seems to be.
Icarus
Emerie once knew the language of the wind. Spoke it fluently. Effortlessly.
It used to be like breathing for her. As easy and automatic as the action of inhaling and exhaling the pure and fresh air of the Illyrian mountains.
Mêmbira suí Ibutû.
Daughter of the Wind.
That was how Emerie’s mother used to call her.
Emerie remembered little of her mother. A smile, a lovingly hand braiding her hair, brushing it after a bath.
She remembered her walks with her mother. How they used to go to that deserted greenfield, its open space Emerie’s personal playground. Her mom would watch as Emerie soared higher and higher, the wind as gentle as her mother’s caress on her face.
“Watch me cig! Look how high I can go!” small Emerie would shout, her voice filled with delight.
“I’m watching xe nhia” her mother would loving answer, her wishful eyes watching her daughter fly, laughing and shouting in warning when Emerie got bold and would do a backflip or drop and open her wings too close to the ground.
Emerie’s mother could not fly. The scars on her wings were proof of that. But she never let that hold herself back from feeling happy for her daughter.
And Emerie flew for her cig. Higher and higher, wings strong, wind roaring around her. Each flap of her wings was to hear that laugh and see that big proud smile on her mother’s face.
But then her mother died.
And the nightmares began.
Emerie would dream of losing her wings. The scars she saw on her mother’s wings on hers.
She’d wake up painting and sweaty, and would run from home straight to her playground.
She’d fly until she felt the air getting thin, until she could barely breath, until she swore she could touch the moon.
When she was nearing the point of fainting from lack of air, Emerie would plummet down, getting dangerously close to the ground. Only then would she open her wings wide, stretching them to the point of pain and getting back to safety.
Time passed. Emerie became older.
Every day she dreaded the day her first cycle would come. Everyday she woke up and glanced at her sheets, her heart stopping every time during the seconds it took to realize they were clean. White. No sign of blood on them whatsoever.
She would scape to her playground whenever she could. Would fly for hours.
Her father tried to hold her back in the shop. Keep her inside, working.
Being an ornament.
Being seen but not heard.
There and not there at all, her existence a mere object of fleeting importance.
Emerie hated it. Knew her father kept track of her scent. To see if it had changed.
To see if she had bled.
Emerie knew her father did not care about the High Lord’s new law, which had banned clipping.
Her father came from a traditional family. An old family who had more money than most, but still less than the powerful camp lords had.
Their backwards mentality, however, was the same.
She remembers the day it came as if it was yesterday.
She woke up, and the usual panic before she saw the sheets was the same.
But this time it did not pass.
It became unbearable.
Emerie could feel her lungs closing, her pulse quickening, and dread, pure and deep dread filling her stomach.
She had lit scented candles to try and disperse the metallic smell of blood, ripping the bedsheets in small pieces and feeding the blazing fire in her room with them.
She remembers dressing with shaking fingers, finally braiding her hair in her usual style after countless attempts.
Remember getting downstairs to the shop and praying to the Mother her father would be so busy counting those damn gold coins or scheming some merchant transaction with the camp lords to stop and pay attention to her.
He had done so well in ignoring her after her mother had died.
“You’re just like your cig” he used to tell her.
Only when she grew up did she notice that he did not say it in a lovingly way.
He said it with a bittersweet tone.
As if he was saying she should have been the one to die from the plague that had befallen Illyria years ago.
No amount of power, contacts or money had been able to save his termireco.
The day his wife died was the day her father never looked at Emerie again the same way.
He had lost his opacatúmbae. His world.
Emerie thought she had managed to finish the day without her father finding about it.
How foolish had she been.
How stupid to dare and hope.
She also remembers when they came.
Four Illyrians, all friends of her father.
They held her down.
She tried to fight.
She kicked and bit at them, screaming and crying.
It was a fruitless effort.
One of them pressed a handkerchief against her mouth and the last thing she heard was her father’s voice before she passed out.
“I’m sorry xe tagira. It’s for your own good”
When Emerie woke up, she had scars.
Her beautiful proud wings were scarred just like her mother’s had been. Like most of the older females at camp were.
The day Emerie lost her wings was the day the wind in Illyria blew so strong that tents were torn from the ground and trees flew.
The ibutû was mourning the loss of his mêmbira.
For three days and three nights Illyria was throw into completely chaos.
For three days and three nights Emerie didn’t eat. Didn’t get out of her room.
For three days and three nights Emerie mourned, together with Qilaë, goddess of wind, what she had once been.
And when she got out of her room, face tearstained but brown eyes deep with hatred, she never gave her father an easy day until his passing.
Emerie would purposely stay away from home all the time, helping with chores at the healers tent or in the communal kitchen at camp.
She would spit insults at the males her father tried to sell her to, lashing at them until they were scared of her, until not even one male in Windhaven would dare accept her as his wife.
When her father died, she fought to be the owner of the clothier.
She hoped her father was turning over in disgust in his grave.
With time, Emerie slowly learned how to deal with the pain.
It became a fog that came and went as it pleased.
Sometimes it was so tick she would find herself screaming until her throat was sore.
Sometimes it was as brief as a summer breeze.
Sometimes Emerie would find herself standing in her old playground, opening her wings and flapping them in vain attempts of raising herself even a millimetre from the ground.
It did not matter how many times she tried. How her wings screamed in pain and how she fought back her tears.
She never left the ground.
Time passed again. Emerie would go to her playground less and less.
One day, she started going again.
Now, Emerie went to the playground with Azriel.
It all began when he found her there, alone, hair free and wind kissing her face, as if Qilaë was greeting her.
He probably had followed her through his shadows.
Even with her eyes closed Emerie could feel his presence. Could feel as he tentatively walked towards her, stopping beside her and staying quiet, letting her enjoy the moment.
And she told him the story of Mêmbira suí Ibutû, who had flown higher than anyone else had ever dared to before.
When she finished the story, she was sobbing, Azriel having moved to embrace her, his wings around them creating a cocoon of safety.
Protecting her from the horrors of the past.
Protecting her like she should have been protected.
After her crying had ceased, Azriel only asked her one thing.
“Do you trust me?”
“With my life” she answered.
Grabbing her waist, Azriel shot to the sky and for the first time in years Emerie left the ground.
He held her only by the waist, supporting the rest of her body with his shadows as he flew.
It was as if Emerie could fly again.
And in that moment Qilaë knew her daughter had come home at last.
•
Fixed tag list: @sayosdreams @thewayshedreamed @sjm-things @perseusannabeth @arin1030 @caotica-e-quieta @vidalinav @swankii-art-teacher @ireallyshouldsleeprn @duskandstarlight @greerlunna @thegoddessaltenia @dayanna-hatter @verypaleninja @awesomelena555 @courtofjurdan @allilal @sensitiveillyrian @moe8 @illyrianwitchling13 @silvernesta @bri-loves-sunflowers @queenestarcheron @imwritingthesewords @vasudharaghavan @rainbowcheetah512
Emeriel tag: @julemmaes @angrypotatofairy @illyrianwitchling @moe8 @thewayshedreamed @ko0mbayamylord @rosegoldannie @fourshizzle149 @arin1030 @elide-lochan-salvaterre @the-bookish-deer @silvernesta @a-girl-named-isa
{Please let me know if you want to be added in either the Emeriel or my Fixed Tag list}
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
BnHA Chapter 280: I Am Red Riot
Previously on BnHA: The pro heroes over at Gunga Mountain struggled against Gigantomachia and the League until finally Midnight was all, “fuck it, let’s just put the kids in charge.” Momo immediately got to work organizing a sophisticated counteroffensive involving an exploding swamp, a bunch of sedative cans, and a massive coordinated team attack. I gotta tell you guys, it’s really something to watch a large-scale group attack in which all of the team members are actually competent. I don’t know what Japan put in the water when all these sixteen-year-olds were growing up, but that shit has paid off big time, and basically the only reason Machia hasn’t gone down yet is because he cheated and was all “sneeze” and the kids all got blown away because they are little and because he is really, really big. Anyway so then Dabi set the forest on fire because he loves doing that, and the chapter ended with Mina using her Acid Man attack to make herself FUCKIN’ FIREPROOF so she could charge through the woods ready to save the day and stuff!
Today on BnHA: Mina launches herself straight at Machia like the beautiful corrosive wild child she is, but then everything goes to shit when she recognizes him from that one time she almost got murdered while giving a strange man directions. Just when it’s looking like she might get killed for real this time, KIRISHIMA SHOWS UP TO SAVE THE DAY AND SHOVES HER TO SAFETY AND IS ALL “BOTTOMS UP” AND HEAVES A LITERAL CAN OF WHOOPASS RIGHT IN MACHIA’S MOUTH. At this point the grown-ups are all “oh wow look at that, time for us to take over for you kids now, don’t worry we’ve got it all under control” because Oh Those Wacky Pros and all that, but at least Majestic finally deigns to show his face so that’s a plus! The chapter ends with us cutting back to the Jakku battle, where Tomura is curled up in a little ball all “curse you heroes, how dare you [checks notes] save people all the time”, which is a real take and a half. Anyway so things are looking up, which can only mean everyone is about to die. That’s how it works, right. Shit.
HOLY SHIT LOL
THIS IS MINA. SHE’S REALLY COOL AND SHE CAN MELT PEOPLE. um, the hell kind of tagline is that?? holy fucking shit?? “melt and succumb”?? IS THE SUCCUMB PART REALLY NECESSARY. IS THAT NOT ALREADY IMPLIED. it’s like saying “die and then perish”, which actually sounds really badass and I’m about to make it my new go-to threat actually so you know what never mind. where the fuck were we anyway
“IS EVERYONE SAFE” some absurdly bad-at-gauging-situations kid from class B is yelling while the forest is on fire and all the kids are recovering from having been catapulted fifty miles by King Dodongo’s windy yeet breath. of course they are safe, sweet child. of course everyone is absolutely fine, why the fuck would they possibly not be safe after something like that
KAMINARI NOOO MY POOR SWEET BABY
AT LEAST HE’S STILL CONSCIOUS ENOUGH TO MAKE STUPID JOKES. holy shit this baby got concussed to hell and back and then Machia turned him and the others into precipitation and he wasn’t in any kind of state to even try to land safely, I hope to god someone caught him
Sero is all “is there anyone still in range!” and damn, I like that he’s taking charge and trying to regain their momentum. he is so criminally underrated. I feel like he’s in the top six or seven of class 1-A kids who I would most trust to take charge. which is very high praise because that class has a lot of charge-taking kids
SPEAKING OF
it “probably” can’t get through her acid, she says. my god. sometimes the spirit of Plus Ultra just takes ahold of these kids and it’s like, I want to ruffle their hair proudly and then grab them by the shoulders and shake them vigorously because WHERE EVEN IS YOUR SELF-PRESERVATION WHY DO NONE OF YOU HAVE IT GODDAMMIT AIZAWA REALLY SHOULD HAVE EXPELLED YOU GUYS AFTER ALL
man. and yet I really do love this “be the one who can do it” stuff. what a heroic fucking attitude dfjfklks. I’ll just go put on my humongous sandwich board that reads GIANT FUCKING HYPOCRITE and go stand in the corner
damn it this week’s scan is annoyingly dark, it’s really hard to tell what’s going on but it looks like the pros are attacking Machia and the League at long last. way to go guys it only took you seven years but you finally hopped to it
MINA WHY IS THE ACID COMING OFF OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. PUT IT BACK!!!
I KNOW SHE’S NOT GONNA DIE DAMMIT BUT AHHHHH AHHHHHH AHHHHHHHH
okay what the hell is up with these weird zen proverbs though
“your fear stricken heart”, “the shortest path”, what the fuck even is this. whose thoughts are these. normally these translations are honestly decent enough but I gotta say this time around I’m totally being thrown for a loop lmao
(ETA: FYI I’m only just now realizing that he was saying the shortest path to Master, as in Tomura, not “master” as in to master something fjkldjskf lol some delayed reading comprehension there. so basically he’s just bitching about how annoying these little “flies” are proving to be.)
JESUS CHRIST
okay is it just me, or is Gigantomachia suddenly showing intelligence in his eyes instead of mindless animal instinct the single most pants-shitting thing you’ve ever seen?!! holy shit. the way he just LOOKS at her out of nowhere all of a sudden?? holy fucking shit DO NOT HURT MT. LADY OH MY GOD I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. AND DON’T YOU DARE HURT MINA EITHER!! JUST FUCKING DIE AND PERISH
but also though, is that recognition in Mina’s eyes?? because even though this dude is 80 feet tall now, her encounter with him a couple years back had to have been one of the more memorable experiences of her young life. damn I was wondering when this would finally come into play
OKAY YES THE NEXT PAGE IS A FLASHBACK OH SHIT
this has nothing to do with anything but Mina just has the prettiest hair, btw, and this “just woke up covered in acid” look is a particularly good one on her. it looks so soft and fluffy, like damn. this is like Shouto-hair-billowing-in-the-wind levels of pretty here
NOOOOO
oh my god holy shit?! putting her back in the school uniform to show the slip in her mentality is a PUNK MOVE, HORIKOSHI, and I respect the shit out of you for it you manipulative bastard. goddammit. bracing myself for the incoming wave of Mina feels... here they come... they’re a lot... let’s see if I can latch on to anything I can actually figure out how to describe in words
okay well here’s one, my respect for Mina’s bravery just went up like a thousand percent in this instant, because now we know this was actually such a traumatizing event for her that hearing Machia’s voice again years later immediately sent her into a full-blown flashback. she was that scared and yet she still stood up to him and didn’t hesitate. and now I’m remembering how her knees just buckled right afterwards, and just...
and this visual, though!! what a brutally effective way to show that in her mind she went right back to being that scared middle schooler again for a moment. god fucking damn. holy shit you guys is Kirishima fireproof because if he comes waltzing out of the woods next I don’t even know what I’m gonna do. lolo kids getting traumatized left and right this arc is fucking merciless
um eXCUSE ME!?!?!
YOU MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF SHIT LET GO OF HER RIGHT NOW OR I AM GONNA LOSE IT!!
THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT!!
holy shit he could have fucking snapped her neck like that??! I don’t like this at ALL WHAT THE FUCK
OKAY SERIOUSLY
I’M GONNA NEED ANOTHER KID TO STEP IN HERE WITH A LAST MINUTE SAVE LIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, OR I AM GOING TO THROW MY COMPUTER OFF A FUCKING CLIFF AND MOVE TO THE DESERT AND BECOME A HERMIT AND NEVER READ MANGA ON THE INTERNET AGAIN
OH THANK GOD
TODAY WE SPELL “REDEMPTION” K-I-R-I... ETC. THERE’S A LOT OF LETTERS BUT YOU GET THE DRIFT!!!
holy fucking shit y’all. I mean, it’s not like it came out of nowhere, like the setup could not have been more obvious, but let me assure you that none of the predictability lessened the actual impact of this moment in the SLIGHTEST. Horikoshi really wrote a flashback scene one hundred and thirty five chapters ago and planted it, watered it once a day, and patiently waited for THREE LONG YEARS until he could finally harvest the badass fruits of his labor in the midst of his most epic arc to date. I’m so fucking hyped I’ll even forgive him for sacrificing Mina’s big moment and having her get rescued, because it’s such a good reversal. he didn’t freeze up this time. he promised himself he’d never freeze again and he didn’t and he saved her and god fucking damn. anyways so now Machia is going to treat him like a fucking action figure though but he’s a solid little dude he can take it hopefully
NO WHAT IS THIS!!! STOP KILLING MY MOOD!!!
she better not be dead!! SHE BETTER NOT FUCKING BE DEAD I WILL RUN MY PC THROUGH A PAPER SHREDDER AND GO AND LIVE ALONE WITH MY FEELS ON A MOUNTAIN IN TIBET
CHINTETSU!!
well we know he’s fireproof. another callback at the least expected of times lmao
so Tetsu’s all “yeah Kirishima’s not really all that fireproof but he totally ran over here anyway to save you. oh wait that probably wasn’t very comforting of me to say.” maybe that’s why it seems like he might not have actually said it out loud, now that I’m reading this over again. good call Tetsu
ARE YOU STANDING UP AND CASUALLY STRETCHING OUT YOUR BACK
I CAN’T EVEN BELIEVE HOW MUCH I HATE THIS GUY RIGHT NOW. WE’RE REACHING LEVELS OF HATRED RESERVED FOR NAZIS AND PEOPLE WHO WALK TOO SLOWLY IN FRONT OF ME IN A GROUP SHOULDER TO SHOULDER INSTEAD OF SINGLE FILE SO I CAN PASS IN FRONT OF THEM. YOU’RE A FUCKING TOURIST IN NYC YOU PIECE OF SHIT
lmao he’s just dropping this random hero person and letting him fall to his doom wheeeeee
remind me to leave all of the League of Villains’ texts on read for the foreseeable future. goddamn. I still love you guys but also, fuck you so damn hard
OHO A LIL RED SCALY BOI ISN’T DONE YET!!
real talk, just between you and me, I’ll lower my voice so that Kirishima can’t hear. so uh. we all agree that even if Kiri is fireproof and squishproof, that little can of tranquilizer juice technically shouldn’t have been, right? but we’re all going to hush and pretend like it was anyway for the sake of not spoiling his big moment. even though I am crossing my arms and tapping my chin with my finger while doubtfully glancing to the side
anyway here he goes!
YEAH KIRI GO GETTIM [stage whisper] there it is, in his pocket. should’ve burned. we won’t discuss it
OH FOR FUCK’S
TOGA YOU LITTLE WIENER BUT WHAT’S THIS ABOUT “MY HALF” NOW????
DID HE GRAB MINA’S MID-AIR?? IS HE REALLY REACHING INTO HIS BACK POCKET AND FUCKING UNZIPPING IT RIGHT NOW WHILE HOLDING ON TO NOTHING AND PRESUMABLY FALLING THROUGH THE AIR. DID A LITTLE BIT OF OCHAKO’S QUIRK RUB OFF ON YOU OR WHAT
OH SNAP SON HE REALLY DID THE THING HOLY SHIT???
AND TOKAGE FLEW OVER AND SAVED HIM AND NOW TANKS ARE SHOOTING AT MACHIA, LMAO WHAT IS THIS. MOMO HOW MANY GUNS DID YOU MAKE
Shouji standing there trying to be useful any way he can. are eyeballs really that much more effective if you make them the size of tennis balls and hold them up above your head. legit question, I don’t really know how eyes work
okay after 45 seconds of googling this my impression is that no, they are not. well good on you for giving it the old college try anyway though Shouji
oH MY GODLKDLK?!?!
DID SHE SAY WHAT I THOUGHT SHE SAID, DID SHE SAY MAJESTIC, ARE WE GONNA SEE MASJKESLTKCI DSFLKJL
oh my god he really is the Magic Man dude??? TIME TO DUST OFF MY INVENTORY OF ADVENTURE TIME QUOTES
(ETA: AHH FATGUM AND GANG ORCA ARE THERE TOO YESSSS!)
“that’s enough depending on some interns” oh, okay. now that they’ve done all your work for you. I see, I see
so now Gigantomachia is LITERALLY UNHINGING HIS JAW I can’t fucking believe this dude you guys. everything he does is just like, ARE YOU SERIOUS
please go to sleep already. thanks to you I have my keyboard set to capslock as the default for the duration of this chapter
ARE YOU SERIOUS YOU FUCKING WAITED UNTIL MAGIC FUCKING MAN SHOWED UP TO TEACH US MAGICAL LIFE LESSONS AND NOW YOU’RE CUTTING BACK TO THE TOMURA FIGHT?? WHY DO WE KEEP LETTING THIS MAN GET AWAY WITH THIS
oh my god you guys they really fucking did it
I guess that Howitzer slash fire punch combo really was that potent huh
anyway so now Endeavor is standing there making a big speech instead of reaching into Tomura’s pocket and taking the bullets that he doesn’t know about and shooting him with one asap. dammit Endeavor
aaaaand Tomura is firing back with the wisdom of Shimura Fucking Kotaro of all people
well you sure convinced me. damn I don’t know what I was thinking. heroes suck you guys. how dare they help other people all the time
so now he’s all “PERIOD, EXCLAMATION POINT!!”
take that Endeavor. you heard the man. it’s not destruction without conviction, as god as his witness he will have you know it is destruction WITH conviction. something something the great sage Shimura “I hurt my family for absolutely no reason at all, fuck this ‘helping others’ bullshit” Kotaro. I hope you packed your textbooks because you just got SCHOOLED. I hope the person who ordered you signed up for delivery notifications because you just got SENT. I HOPE YOU LIKE CAPITALISM BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT OWNED. I HOPE YOU CHOSE PAPER AND NOT SCISSORS BECAUSE YOU JUST GOT ROCKED
what an absolutely, unreservedly bizarre place to end the chapter lol. we’re really just done with this week, just like that. Majestic showed up and Gigantomachia opened his chin like a garage door and Tomura is all “you may have won the battle but you suck” while he buys time for Aizawa to suddenly sneeze or something so he can make his terrible comeback and continue Horikoshi’s Traumatize Every Kid in Class 1-A 2020 campaign. what an arc this is my friends. what an arc
#bnha 280#ashido mina#kirishima eijirou#gigantomachia#shigaraki tomura#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#I didn't even notice the extra page on readheroaca until I was getting ready to click 'post' lol#something about ochako mistaking a real orca for their friendly teacher#resulting in a hilarious case of mistaken identity#I have no idea what this page is about or what it is doing there#but at this point 'because 2020' seems like a reasonable explanation for just about anything tbh
262 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hostage Of Your Eyes - 1.
Mob!Bucky x reader.
Part 1 of this series.
Run-through: You accept an unusual offer made by a very familiar, but dangerous mob boss. And despite the bizarre situation and all the troubles that come along; old flames rekindle – and you find love again, where it wasn’t supposed to be.
Themes throughout the series: (fake) kidnapping, gang stuff, mentions of violence, smut, fluff, mob!bucky,
a/n: oh boy, here we go again… THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. If you are NOT COMFORTABLE with ANY of the THEMES above, please click away and read something else.
You had always been the kind of woman who secretly liked slightly authoritative and dominant men.
What you meant by that is; you liked men who were slightly more rough than the average lover, one who wouldn’t mind pinning you down on his bed, holding you down by your throat while he makes love to you, one who wouldn’t mind occasionally taming the hidden brat in you. One who wouldn’t mind reminding you that you belonged to him and keep you in check, all while still loving and respecting you.
What you didn’t mean by that is; having a mob boss break into your apartment in the middle of the night, and force you to listen to him while he made you a very unusual offer.
“Hello babygirl.” He spoke. And you faced him with pure confusing and partial hatred. You had woken up due to the sound of someone walking into your bedroom. You panicked, and turned your bedside lamp on and, there he was. With a smile on his face.
James Buchanan Barnes was the son of a high profile mob boss, and he was currently the leader of the biggest, most dangerous gang in the area. And he also happened to be the son of your late father’s good friend. And James was also, your secret ex-boyfriend. Nobody ever found out that you used to date back then.
You and James dated for two years around the time when you were 19, back when you still lived with your family. Your breakup was messy; involving a lot of fights, and insults and tears and never wanting to see each other’s face again.
But now here he was, 5 years later; standing in front of your bed in the middle of the night, smiling softly at you. His guards and ‘his people’ surrounding him with serious faces. You looked at all of them, and they looked expressionless, and robotic. Like machines only meant to obey orders from their boss – James.
You tried to cover your body with you blanket as much as possible, given an ex of yours was invading your privacy.
“If you don’t get out right now, I’m gonna call security.” You spoke, looking him dead in the eyes. James chuckled, and some of his guys smirked.
“Oh the big guy from downstairs? Yeah, he’s passed out.” He spoke, smirking and approaching you.
He walked over and sat down at the edge of your bed, making himself at home. He reached out and tried to touch your face but you pulled away. You weren’t afraid of him, but you and him hadn’t had a proper closure and you still remembered how brutal your last fight was before you walked out on one another.
“Relax babygirl, I’m not gonna do anything. I’m just here to talk, alright? I need you to hear me out because, I need your help. Please.” his voice was smooth and gentle; quite the opposite of the reputation he had earned himself.
You were about to tell him off, and use a colorful language but then you looked into his eyes and you simply couldn’t think anymore. Deep blue; deeper than the ocean, and just as icy as the tip of a frozen mountain. His eyes had depth, and they were somehow always so shiny and full of mystery and danger. It was what you liked about him the most, all those years ago.
You looked away before all the memories came flooding back in, like they always did. People say that one doesn’t really forget their first love, and in your case it was true. As much as you disliked James now, you never quite forgot him, or forgot what you and him used to have.
You get out of your bed and moved away from him, now starting to get hyper. “You break into my apartment, invade my privacy and now you expect me to hear you out because you need my help? Who do you think you are, James?” you said, bitterly.
James sighed and gave a slight nod to his guys and they all walked out of your room; leaving just you and him.
“I know this looks wrong, and I know you’re upset babygirl, I just need you to h-,”
You cut him off.
“Don’t call me that!” you snapped, and you could tell he was running out of patience. He took a deep breath and stood up; walking over to where you were.
His gait was just a perfect as he was. You eyed him shamelessly and admitted that he was indeed, still very handsome.
“Fine, then just listen t-,”
You scoffed and cut him off again.
“Look, whatever it is, I don’t care. Now I want you to l-,” and this time he cut you off by pushing you back and holding both your wrists above your head, pinning them against the wall and pressing his body against yours.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to listen, babygirl. Because I don’t have much time to waste right now, and I’m not good at tolerating disobedience.” He spoke sternly, and let go of your wrists but didn’t move his body. “Just please listen to me, I’ll leave once I’m done. Please.” He added with a much softer voice.
You could hear the desperation in his voice, and his actions. James Buchanan Barnes wasn’t one to plead people ever, but he had done it three times in the past few minutes so this must be urgent.
You nodded, and he pulled away, stepping out of your personal space.
He walked over to the couch in your room and patted the spot next to him. “Sit.” As much as you hated how he ordered you around in your own home, you did what he asked you. Because the quicker you’d listen to whatever bullshit he had to say, the quicker he’ll be gone.
So you went and sat next to him. He was respectful enough to keep a comfortable distance between the two of you. And then he spoke up.
“I want you to help me take down your mom and her husband.” He spoke, and immediately had your undivided attention. You mindlessly turned your body towards him a little.
After your dad passed away when you were younger, your mom remarried a vile man. He was never home, and neither was she. So you barely ever saw them, but you did dislike them. Your mom was a cold woman, and she never quite loved you like mothers love their daughters. You had always been closer to your dad, but with him gone – you were left, unfortunately, in the care of the two people who didn’t care about you at all.
“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, James.” You were suddenly very curious.
James nodded. “I will if you stop calling me that.”
You sighed. “Fine, would you be ever so kind to elaborate on what you just said, Bucky?” you sassed and rephrased and judging by the smirk on his face, you figured he liked the old nickname better.
“They’ve been a pain in my ass for a couple years now. They had some of my guys killed, and some are still their hostages. They’ve been constantly placing obstacles in my way, snatching away all my deals and turning my allies against me.” Bucky turned to look at you. “I need you to help me.”
Your mom’s husband was a mob as well, and she was his partner in crime. Had always been, which is why she never took care of you; she was always too busy chasing money and power.
However, it was all still very unclear to you. You understood why he wanted to take them down, but you couldn’t see how or why you would fit somewhere in this.
“I don’t see what I can do to help. I mean, I sure know how to use a gun but-,”
He cut you off by inching closer.
“I need you to allow me to kidnap you.” He said with a straight face and you almost laughed.
He spoke with so much seriousness that you couldn’t help but question his sanity. “Are you out of your mind Bucky?”
He looked down, as though he had predicted that this was how you would react to his offer.
“I know it sounds silly. But hear me out. The moment the news of you having been kidnapped by my people reaches them, they’re gonna go bat shit crazy. Both he or your mom won’t have their guard up, and that’s when I’ll step in and take back all that they took from me.”
Bucky explained further and you thought over it for a minute.
“Buck, what makes you think kidnapping will help? You, of all people, know how much they don’t give a shit about me. My own mother won’t care if I live or die.” You explained, thinking of all the times you needed your family the most, but had no one.
Bucky sighed, inching closer again, reaching out to touch your cheek gently. And you didn’t pulled away this time. You let him caress your cheek; gently, without saying a word.
“Fake kidnap you, first of all.” He corrected you with a smile. “And second, I know they don’t care, but what they do care about is all the money and property left in your name by your dad. And as stated by his will, if anything happens to you, none of the money will go to your family. So your safety means a lot to them, maybe more than you think.” He explained and you nodded slowly.
Bucky kept explaining. “I’ve been keeping an eye on both of them. And they’ve been trying to forge your dad’s will. And once they succeed in doing that, they won’t hesitate to…harm you.” he paused and continued. “But if you’re, supposedly, kidnapped before they change the will, that will slow them down because they’d be concerned with your safety first and that will give me more time.”
He added, “Plus, even if they do try to harm you then, being with me will guarantee your safety because,” He gently traced your lips with his thumb, “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
You looked into his ocean blue eyes and you saw the comfort you always looked for. And then you asked yourself, why do you still trust him blindly? You knew him, but people always said that he had changed. You had heard what he had become in the last few years; nothing but a ruthless, merciless monster. The infamous gang leader.
But here he was; gently asking for your help. Talking and explaining the situation to you like he was your friend. His methods sure were cold, like people said. But you saw the same warmth in his eyes like you did back when you first told him you loved him. And he said he loved you back. You felt the same tingle on your cheek when he touched you, just like you felt the first time he made love to you, years ago.
“How do you know all that about me?” you asked, discretely leaning into his touch.
He smiled.
“Looking out for you was a habit, and it still is, I guess.” He replied, softly. And you rolled your eyes and smiled. It was crazy how easily and flawlessly he could blend back into your life; it was like he never left.
All that he said before hurt, a lot. You and your mom never got along anyway, she never loved you. But wrapping your head around the fact that she and her husband would purposely try to hurt you just for money, was a little hard at first. But then you looked back on how they treated you, and suddenly it wasn’t so shocking anymore.
You knew them enough to know that they wouldn’t think twice before harming anyone for money and power. Your mom had always been after your dad’s fortune, and you still remembered the bitter look on her face the day it was announced that you were the only one who inherited all that once belonged to your dad. She and her husband hated you even more after that.
Your dad’s people suggested that you moved out of there and cut off all contacts from them for your own safety. So you did.
And you hadn’t heard of them for the past years, until now.
“Even if I do agree, I can’t just up and leave, Bucky. I have a job, I have dad’s companies to run and my friends, I-,”
He cut you off again.
“It’s all been taken care of. You could always work from home, and your people will be told that you’re taking a nice, long vacation.” He spoke, leaning back; very relaxed now that you were on the verge of agreeing.
“How long of a vacation?” you asked.
“Anywhere from two weeks to two months.” He answered, smirking.
You gave it all a thought again.
“Fine.” You agreed to the very bizarre plan of his. At least, your cruel mother and her equally cruel husband will get what they deserve out of this.
Bucky smiled and got up from the couch, offering you his hand to take.
“Alright then, pack your bags.” He spoke, pulling you up from the couch and pointing at your wardrobe before he walked away.
You thought he’d leave the room, but he just threw himself carelessly on your bed without any hesitation.
“Excuse me, do you mind?” you asked, clearly annoyed.
“Not at all.” He replied and stayed still.
“Bucky I need to get changed if I’m coming with you.” you spoke but he still didn’t move.
“So? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He added a wink at the end and you shook your head, turning around and swore under your breath.
“I heard that, babygirl.” He spoke again and you groaned out loud as you turned to pull out your suitcase and began packing.
Here we go again...
Now you’d have to deal with him for so many more days. And you knew from past experiences that whenever Bucky came up with risky plans like these; they always entailed trouble.
-
a/n: another mob story...
---
Tag List for this series (OPEN):
@bloo-moon-freak
@cinnamon-lady4071
@sweater-daddiesdumbdork
@groovyhumantrashherring
@vousfleurdelys
@hurricanerin
@slcvely
@rookienumber98
@a-really-bi-girl
@cloudynoir13
@end-lessnights
@charmantbarnes
@jhangelface0523
@dumbbitch11
@rebeccccccaaa
@https-bucky
@james-buchanan-bcrnes
@matsumama
@sweetlittlegingy
@thottyantics
@jensenradalecki
@smollest-soybean
Everything Tag List:
@charmed-asylum
@ravenmoore14
@stangirl-fangirl264
@xbuckxnastyx
@starkerhowlter
@fafulous
@smolandrare-coffee-bean
@alexxcorona113
@heartislubbingdubbing
@buggy-blogs
@livsheph
@tt-nikithakppr
@chowder200
@curlyhairedandconfused
@beckloves
@inez-lannister-stark-martell
@amantedelcalcio
@reniescarlett
@siriusjohnpotter
@scarygoodgirl
@ladymidnightt
@unlikelycandylove
@fentybucky
@marshyrebelcloud
@talk-geek-to-me
@tasteslikeblueberries
@the-jer-bear
@aynaraxas
@dreams-in-blxck
@socksracoon10
@moony-tonks-lupin
@anncutamarica
@secretlyactivated
@xoxabs88xox
@noirwarrior20
@chrisevansgirl
@starydreamer
@shutup-sorry
@sofutostuff
@coconutqueen21
@precious-starkerr
@bangtan-serendipity
@swoonhui
@mayumiirenetheodora
@fvithsxo
@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog
@sambucky8
@marvelrose
@morrellica
@fuxkening
@mrsbarneswillseeyounow
@thewitchysoldier
@gogokeener
@fivesosbucky
@trop-mango
@grayxswan
@rvgrsbrns
@buckysegerton
@tonib666
@el-lizzie
@velvet-bucky
@rayofdawnworld
@wintersswidow
@snazzyjazzyjayy
@enigma-xlii
@ii-ir-ii
@hitherequeen
@marvelousell
@banananiqua
@angel-spidey
@the-omni-princess
@nsfwsebbie
@ahappylilybug2019
@babyboyjames
@stonerosedheart
@amirahiddleston
@undeadvampwere
@grincheveryday
@marvelslut-musicalnerd
@lauratang
@krazycags01
@teetles-and-other-stuff
@fckdeusername
@momobaby227
@unknown-salvatore
@lokigonnakmsforbucky
@sizzlinghumanoidfestivalhuman
Permanent Tag List:
@the-omni-princess
@saharzek
@unlikelycandylove
@sparkling-gayyyy
@minetticatinwonderland
@imsoft-barnes
@destiel-artemis
@avnngrs
@pleasforhelp
@randomfangirlonline
@peaceinourtime82
@cupids-quiver
@nec-me-ire
@sexytholland
@isabelcrichards
@ahappylilybug2019
@gentlethunderstorm
@scarlettequinn
@elevatorsnot-worthy
@ya-lyublu-tebya
@everything-is-awesomesauce
@mmyepic
@breatheeagainnnn
@ashlieadelia
@enigma-xlii
@imrisaluk
@grayxswan
@freshprincessofwakanda
@scuzmunkie
@aflightlessborb
@xinyourdreamsx
@starstar1012
@scuzmunkie
@sevenseasofskye
@sebabestianstan101
@mischeviousliar
@stuckybarton
@vnarniav
@wintersoldier1017
@sebabestianstan101
@mannls
@cal-ifornication
@t-kageyamama
@dreams-in-blxck
@miraclesoflove
@stangirl-fangirl264
@lokilvrr
@sedulouswrtr
@fafulous
@tardisin221bst
@yeahhemmings-
@yikes-buckybarnes
@partlybcrnes
@givinggoodvibes
@supernatural-fanfic
@honeyydippaa
@siriusjohnpotter
@bastianbarnes
@luvu3000times
@sebastian-i-stan
@msruchita
@xoxabs88xox
@gingerbread-in-july
@thefridgeismybestie
@buckystanluvr
@babyyysucc
@heartislubbingdubbing
@zainabmmm
@rynabarnesrogers
@rororo06
@xcravingyoux
@morrellica
@134340-cm
@nsfwsebbie
@cerberuxs
@mvrtjnafc
@disaster-rose
@thesumofmychoices
@nickyl316h
@sberumenm
@blindedbyyourgrace17
@ultimatesadboi
@unlikelygalaxygiver
@thefridgeismybestie
@ariesmadness97
@jamierdr
@marshyymello
@saliarheva
@shakespeareanqueer
@xbuckxnastyx
@goodgodimaweirdperson
@dibsonamericasass
@unicornslothfish
@jenn0755
@uhh-katie-griffiths
@joannie95
@jesseswartzwelder
@chennyetomlinson
@wannabetonkin
@darlingtholland
@bucky-lents
@gabbie-is-sad
@2017booklover
@oliviastan17
@kiki5283
@mrsbarneswillseeyounow
@hailmary-yramliah
@notyourtypicalrose
@moshymosh
@jesseswartzwelder
@just-a-littlebit-of-everything
@infinityexe
@dyanna-corona
@marshyrebelcloud
@jenn0755
@sebastianstanslefteyebrow
@sweetkingdomstarlight-blog
@rororo06
@paperrstark
@crazymexicanfangirl
@kelly-fasel
@supernaturaldean67
@marvelsangels
@twsbuckybarnes
@lovvliies
@deadscarlight
@vapingisntmything
@thesoldierrogers
@neerness
@pinkcigar-ettes
@ladymidnightt
@godsaverosemary
@mandi616
@h3xenkind
@sebbysstangirl
@theoria850
@angelsuni
@phantom-soilder
@softboibarnes
@kaetastic
@that-place-called-middle-earth
@squirrelacorngliterfarts
@fckdeusername
@20coldhearts
@marvelismysafezone
@for-the-love-of-the-fandom
@groovyhumantrashherring
@boho-chic-123 @buckybarnesatemyheart @sebastianbarnesandchrisrogers
Seb / Bucky Tag List:
@oliviastan17
@moshymosh
@great-goddess-of-sin
@richhdesire
@nd1998sc
@theoralpha
@nostalgic-bucky
@harrysperfectdimple
@gabypatd
@amirahiddleston
@unknown-salvatore
@1111zxc
@glossierfairy
#mob!bucky#bucky barnes au#sebastian stan au#mob!bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes series#bucky barnes smut#sebastian stan smut#sebastian stan imagine#sebastian stan fic#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan x reader smut#Sebastian Stan#avengers au#avengers smut#mob au#mob bucky#mobster seb#mob!seb#sebastian stan fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky smut#BUCKY AU#sebastian stan headcanons#sebastian stan x you#marvel fic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Home (A Marissacracker Fic)
Summary: Thundercracker’s been stranded on Earth for quite a bit now with Marissa. But it turns out he doesn’t exactly mind that. Especially when it’s with her and Buster.
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2066
Location: Keystone, Colorado
“Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl? You are!” Thundercracker’s voice sang in the barn. Buster gave a hearty bark back to him and licked at his servos. “Oh, you’ve gotten to be such a big girl, haven’t you,” he said, rubbing her belly with a digit. The barn door creaked open as Marissa came in with her hands full, carrying two full gas cans. Buster got up from the ground and bound towards Marissa with a cheerful bark.
“Looks like you two’ve been hanging out again,” Marissa teased. She drew near Thundercracker to set the gas cans down, carefully maneuvering around Buster’s every attempt to get in between her legs and give her what Buster considered a hug. “Buster, lemme set these down first then you can give me a hug!” It was a routine the two were used to. It had been three years after all since Thundercracker and Marissa had first met. Now the two had settled into a routine Thundercracker and Marissa enjoyed. Most days he was left alone, Marissa off at work and Thundercracker being left to watch Buster. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, he loved Buster with all his spark and would do anything for his dog (Marissa had told him a year into him being here that Buster was his and hers, his time spent with Buster and, specifically her trust, in Thundercracker being enough for her to let him say that Buster was his dog too.) When Marissa set down the gas cans in front of Thundercracker, his frame huddled to accommodate the small space of the barn (it was enough for him to stand up fully but then it would feel even more cramped with the roof less than a metre above his helm), he reached out for the gas cans. Buster took no time in forcing herself between Marissa’s legs as she stood and Marissa let out a laugh as Buster hugged her.
“Thank you for getting this for me again,” Thundercracker said, picking up one of the gas cans and beginning to drink from the nozzle. It was a necessity at this point. Thundercracker had no way of getting energon without overexerting himself and putting himself in danger, knowing what was happening out there. The government was hunting down Decepticons. And as much as Thundercracker was an ex-Decepticon, they wouldn’t know that. Gasoline had an acrid taste but it was something he quickly grew used to since he needed it to survive and avoid rusting. It sucked to be stuck on a planet that wanted to kill him but he didn’t mind it as much with Marissa and Buster by his side. Marissa was understanding and kind, she didn’t seem to hold any malice or hatred towards him despite hearing all the awful events that went down because of the Decepticons. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Thundercracker didn’t kill her the moment they first met. Or because Marissa didn’t run off screaming and trying to call the authorities to come and get him killed. She ran but. She came back.
During the time they spent together, Thundercracker learned a few things about her. She was 29 years of age, soon to be 30 this year, coming from a family in Scotland, far from where Colorado was. Working as a manager at a hospital, she oversaw various operations and decisions that led to people’s lives being saved. When she wasn’t at work, she would spend as much time with Thundercracker as possible. She was curious about him after all and she genuinely enjoyed spending time with him. There were nights where Marissa would show Thundercracker movies, trying to get him familiar with Earth culture. Thundercracker was immediately hooked as he grew more and more interested with things such as cinematography, director’s decisions on how a scene should be played out, dialogue and setting. Marissa would often fall asleep to the movies, huddled up against Buster, who was also asleep as she’d fall asleep on Marissa as soon as they were both comfortable, a warm blanket over her as she would lean against Thundercracker’s leg. It was nights like those where his optics would dart over to her and watch her fondly before going back to the movie. One night he’d set his servos down to provide Marissa with some extra comfort and when she reached out and hugged one of his digits close, his spark jumped. He’d never felt this way with anyone before. It was a conflicting feeling. Being attracted to a human when he was a Cybertronian. He wasn’t disgusted but he felt that it was wrong. Looks like years of being part of the Decepticons who had dismissed anything organic as inferior or useless were still affecting him.
“You alright?” Marissa’s voice called out, snapping Thundercracker back to reality. Thundercracker stopped trying to drink from the empty gas can, having finished it while he was thinking and blinked, looking down at her.
“Sorry,” he said. “Distracted. Was thinking about something.”
“Something you need to talk about?” she then asked. Thundercracker shook his head.
“I’m just grateful that you’ve been doing this for me for so long, I know it’s a bit inconvenient and I’d honestly go try to look for the energon if I could but… well, you know what they’d do to me if they found me.” Thundercracker neglected to add that he also didn’t want to leave Marissa or Buster at all. He’d have to admit that he’d grown very attached to them over the years of living in her barn. He just only hoped that Marissa felt the same.
“Well, I’m not too keen on them taking you to Cheyenne Mountain anytime,” Marissa replied. “Besides, I’m too used to having you here now,” she then said. “It’d be weird to not have you here. Buster especially would miss you,” she said, patting Buster’s head. “Have you been paying attention to the news lately? It looks like they’re hunting your buddies down.”
“I’ve noticed,” Thundercracker sighed. “I almost was tempted to stop watching altogether. It’s too depressing for me to watch.” Marissa laughed.
“I completely feel you on that, TC,” Marissa chuckled. “They said that the Autobots were safe from all this but I’m not too sure on that,” she said.
“You think they’re hunting the Autobots down too?”
“Just a hunch, I just haven’t… seen much news of them, y’know?”
“Hmm,” Thundercracker hummed in thought. “The Autobots are just as trapped here as the Decepticons.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad they haven’t found you yet. I know there’s this whole ‘Call a Transformer in to report them’ they started wanting us to do a year ago but I’ve never had a need to report you at all,” Marissa said.
“I hope that need never comes, if I’m being honest,” Thundercracker huffed. “Again, thank you for your hospitality.”
“We’re friends, TC, you can stay here as long as you want, I know Buster would love that,” she said. “I mean, me too as well,” Marissa then added quietly, looking away for a moment in embarrassment. “Anyway, you been up to anything today?” Marissa then asked, changing the topic.
“I’ve been working more on my screenplay,” Thundercracker replied. “It’s about a Seeker, who’s out there looking for love in the vast emptiness of space,” he gestured with his servo.
“Oh?” Marissa said, propping her head up. “And what’s this Seeker’s name?”
“Her name is Cadet. A Seeker that defected from the Decepticons early in the war to find herself. And she’s a Cityspeaker.”
“A Cityspeaker? What’s that?”
“Well, a Cityspeaker is a rare type of Cybertronian. If I remember correctly they’re the type of outlier that can actually communicate with our cities. The cities back on Cybertron really were giant Cybertronians as well. But they mainly slumbered. It’s said that the Cityspeakers could wake them up and they’d ally with the speakers. I’ve never seen a Seeker be a Cityspeaker. I was told they only come from Caminus but it’d be nice to see the representation I guess,” Thundercracker said.
“Is Caminus different from Cybertron?”
“Yeah, I can’t tell you too much about Caminus though, I’ve never really. Been there,” Thundercracker confessed. “I’ve been to a lot of places on Cybertron though! Although at this point a lot of the cities are destroyed.”
“What happened to the cities?”
“The Titans?” Thundercracker then clarified. “I. I’m not too sure,” he said. “I just know that. We… destroyed our planet. I think we killed some of the Titans. Some of the cities… they’re in ruins.” He looked away with some guilt. He then felt a hand placed on his pede and he looked down to see Marissa.
“Hey, listen,” she said. “I know you feel guilty for what happened to your home… but is it really your fault? It’s war, you were just following orders.”
“Yeah, well… I should have defected earlier,” Thundercracker then sighed, drawing himself closer in.
“Why’d you stay?”
“My… family,” he said, the human term slightly unfamiliar. “On our planet though, we’d call it a trine, at least in Seeker terms.” Thundercracker frowned. “I stayed for my family, because I wanted to protect them and be there when they needed it. I mean. We bonded for a reason.”
“Can you tell me about them?” Marissa then asked, trying to bring him some comfort.
“Well, there’s Starscream and there’s Skywarp. Starscream’s a little bit older than the two of us since Skywarp and I met him only after leaving the academy. He was already a senator at the time.”
“Academy?” Thundercracker nodded.
“Skywarp and I grew up in an academy. Both of us are outliers, and on Cybertron, outliers were kinda considered outcasts, they didn’t like people like us. But Shockwave, Shockwave saw greatness in us, a lot of us outliers actually. They were like. Our dad, I think that’s the word. Anyway, at some point Shockwave had us live with Starscream, he’d expressed interest in us as not only body doubles but for our powers. Eventually, he started seeing us as family and we got a lot closer than someone would with body doubles,” Thundercracker said fondly. “He’s like Skywarp and I’s big brother,” he translated. “Starscream,” he then laughed. “Can be the most annoying jerk, he always wants to be right and thinks he’s the best looking, always obsessed with his image. But he never belittled us or made fun of us, it was just with other people. I think if someone messed with us, Starscream would be the one to really take care of it and make sure that person never messed with us again. And then there’s Skywarp. She. Well, she’s on the more serious side. They always wanted to be the best and she had a bit of a temper,” Thundercracker said, switching between they and she pronouns for Skywarp. “They’re stubborn too, but stubborn in the best way. She never let us get ourselves down. I guess. I was the dreamer of the trine,” he said, scratching at his helm. He then sighed and dropped his helm. “I hope they don’t hate me for what I did.”
“What did you do?” Marissa asked.
“I defected, I betrayed them,” Thundercracker said. “Instead of going back to Cybertron with them, I. I left them.”
“Thundercracker,” Marissa then called out. “I don’t think they’d hate you,” she said. “They’re probably hurting though because you are their family. And from what it seems like they miss you and hope you’re alright more than anything. I can hear how much love you have for both of them.”
“Yeah, well… I can’t go back to them anytime now, especially with what’s going on out there.”
“It’ll be over sooner or later,” Marissa assured. “And I’ll do anything and everything to try and help you, Thundercracker,” she said. Thundercracker blinked and looked down towards her this time. She was looking away in embarrassment and if Thundercracker’s optics didn’t betray them, her cheeks were dusted pink. “Anyway,” she said, clearing her throat. “I think it’s Buster’s feeding time, huh?” she said. Buster let out an excited bark, her butt wiggling from how much her tail was wagging as she followed Marissa out of the barn. He couldn’t help but cover his face in embarrassment as the energon rushed to his cheeks.
#marissacracker#thundercracker#Marissa Faireborn#maccadam#transformers#this is originally from my bayverse rewrite fic but i wanted to post this separately ^^#i really like marissacracker i think they're cute#i guess this is AU? lol#but yeah in my bayverse i throw in a buncha references from other continuities#kagebros.writing
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
sins of my youth. 020
Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3
Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.
A/N: Hello everyone. Thanks for clicking in to read. Billy and Evie continue to explore their new relationship together. Max's fourteenth birthday party marks a change for the teens, reminding them that danger isn't too far off. TW: Neil being Neil. Mentions of abuse. Something close to an almost assault/abduction off screen near the end. Light mentions of Pica & fatphobia. Sexual themes
***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo
Chapter 20: Rose Tint My World
“Hold still, I’ll poke your eye again.”
“I can’t breathe, you’re killing me.” Came a sniffled whine.
“Such a baby. You asked.”
“I said I was curious after you put the gunk on my nails!”
“That gunk was a great color on you. You whine just like your big brother.” Carol had Max’s face clamped in her grip as she applied mascara. “Don’t blink, you'll smear it.”
“Evie, she’s killing me,” Max lamented aloud. “This is not worth it.” Evie just laughed, setting a bowl of pretzels aside. Carol flicked a mirror up to let Max see her handiwork. “Whoa...It’s not terrible.” She gruffed in a mumble, tilting her head to see each angle. "Kinda like Madonna."
“I’ll take it.” Carol stole some M&Ms from another dish as they shared a spot on Heather’s fuzzy carpet. A movie rolled on in the corner TV.
Max about howled when Heather came in from the bathroom, face covered in green.
“Monster!”
“It’s a face-mask!” Heather planted her hands on her hips, prompting more laughter. “You’ll be more into them once your body really changes.”
“Girls are way scarier than boys.” Max poked at her blushed cheek which had Carol smacking her hand away. Evie was draped across the bottom of the bed in her robe and nightie, half-watching the TV. “Can you do a zombie make-up?”
Carol gave a snort.
“I can do anything. kid.”
“Eves, you want another piece of pizza?” Heather crossed with the box.
“I’m so full.” Evie shook her head.
“You had like one piece.”
“I ate a big lunch. And lots of pretzels.” Evie snatched the pretzel bowl again for good measure. Truthfully, her appetite had been up and down lately. Mostly down. What with the pangs in her stomach that always passed and… “You sound like my mother.”
“She was...extra peppy at the salon today. My mom and I got our monthly trim.”
“Probably some guy she’s seeing, it’ll pass and another will come. Men are like Kleenex to her. Soft, strong, and disposable.” Evie shrugged to pluck up a magazine.
“Hey,” Max began as Carol fussed over her, “so I didn’t want to make a thing of it, but my mom keeps insisting. My birthday party is coming. She and Neil saved so I could have it just at the roller rink and...they said I could invite whoever I wanted. But, I can’t ask the guys to come. So I figured I’d ask El. She’s really cool. But, maybe if you guys wanted to come? You can bring boys and pretend you’re not even at my party if it’s not your thing. I just-”
“Max, we’d love to come.” Heather piped up first. “Evie and I rule the rink too.”
“I look very cute in skates,” Carol agreed with a twitching smirk. “I'm in. I’ll bring Tommy, he sucks and he’ll fall down a bunch. We'll pretend we ran into each other so your stepdad can get the stick out of his ass.”
“Billy has to go too cause Neil says it’s a family event.” Max turned to Evie. “I think he’d be happier with you there.”
“I think Billy and I both are fine being there for you. I had my fourteenth at the rink too. It’ll be fun.” Evie beamed, legs up to sway idly. “Plus we haven’t met the Chief’s kid. She’s home-schooled, right?”
“Yeah, she might be joining us in school next year.” Max stayed still for Carol’s brush. “Depends. She was uh...adopted under weird circumstances. You’ll like her. I taught her how to do that felting thing because of you and she made this funny one of her dad.”
“I’ll bet Hopper loved that.” Evie winked.
“He’s kind of a babe in like a scruffy, rugged way,” Carol remarked. "Strong mountain man type."
“Ew. He’s so old.” Max reeled back to laugh.
“I’m just saying! I like a man in uniform. He rocks the khaki.”
“The moms in town do eat him up.” Heather shrugged, joining Evie on the bed with a handful of candy. “We all have our strange crushes. I like high cheek-bones. Guys with a little Bowie. Evie? You got one?”
“Gia Carangi even if she isn’t modeling any more, I love her face.” Evie was flicking pages without looking. Howls from the TV went ignored through the chatter.
“I called that. Fenny being into ladies. Try Iman.” Carol winked which earned her a look as if she hadn’t planted a kiss on Evie in a fit of rage.
“People say Billy’s pretty like a girl.” Max had added which got the other girls giggling.
“I like this one, we’re so keeping her.” Carol got up to root for a bag of chips, popping them open. “Like the zombie face better?”
“I still look too pretty.” Max appeared more goth than zombie.
“You are pretty. Deal with it. We redheads stick together.” Carol stole Evie’s magazine. “Let us know when the party is, we’ll be there.”
Max looked at the three older girls squished together on Heather’s bed. Chattering and supporting. Happy to have her around.
A bright smile touched her face for the first time since Neil Hargrove walked into her home.
** ** **
Most days, all it felt like was floating. Floating through her house. Through Hawkins. Up and down streets. Through school. A stunning illusion she pulled like wool over her dark eyes.
A woman in rippling silks walking endless halls toward a great, cherry red door at the end, but the door gets farther away and she's thrilled to continue on even still. Feather wings glittering to unfold from her back because heaven's light is beyond the door. Crystalline eyes with their hold. Waiting for her. The sky awaits her with caressing clouds. Opulent gold sun rays and twinkling stars when the world lies down.
Evie knew she was too big for her wings most days. Too heavy to leave the Earth.
Knew in her beating heart of hearts that was the first thing people think when they see her. This magnificent soul with drive and neon and talent reduced to a single shrewd glance. And they don't think twice until she's something vaguely sexual. Something marketable you can package and process and sell to the last drop.
Easier to stomach something uncomely if you can slide into it ruthlessly to rut. They always come like animals, wailing as a banshee would to get off better than they ever will in their small lives. They eat it up. Cover it in sweat and regret and blame.
These things that hang as little weights on her heartstrings swinging back and forth. They make her not want to attempt extending those wings to fly. Fear of heads shaking in judgement. Fear of looking uglier. More foolish for even trying. Poor thing.
All because of one glance that couldn't be bothered to see worth in another human life. Sometimes Evie wanted to be skinny not because of beauty, but because she'd get a privilege pass to exist in this world.
They think she shouldn't dress the way she does. She's probably lazy and self loathing because of added pounds. She has no real aspirations or means to achieve them. Those eyes that watch her eat. That shift away before they decide on another seat because the one open next to her just isn't right. They glare because of the extra room she might take up. Even sharing a few cordial words with fat girls seemed to be a task.
Evie always notices and does the polite thing pretending she doesn't. She knows what her body looks like, no need to point out the obvious.
Strange, how these snap judgements, these eyes that don't look twice; can villainize a body utterly. A body. Flesh, bone, and muscle. We're all made in heaven's image. All destined for paths we seek to control. Superiority should have been an illusion. But no, too much or too little, your worth dips low. Fetishes and internalized hatred for things that were shaped and colored differently. Blame.
But, some days, when the wind soars just right...just strong enough...Evie can spread and illuminate. See the births and deaths of a million stars. Drop the little weights to feel the winds between her fingers. In her curls. In her wings. Feel her feet leave the floor for just a few fleeting seconds.
The fleeting seconds of soaring always seem so worth it against a world of unsightly aches. Against snap judgements she can toss back to live in a flower petal haze.
Evie tried hard to live in those moments when they flashed into her. Spotlights. Butterflies delicately landing on her flesh to open and close their stained glass wings for kisses. Evie felt crushed utterly in the most decadent way.
Billy's soft lips on her neck to get lost in the pulse. Deft fingers that would push up her clothing as he moved in her. Eyes that wanted to see her. All of her. The prayers he could whisper against heating skin.
A lot could be said about him. But, Billy was always happy to see her and that alone was air spinning into gold. His eyes would light up. Lips twitching. She could hear the single beat that his heart skipped. Even if they didn't speak, they felt this awareness for each other in the vicinity. Truly magic.
Those eyes. That love of a face. Always staring pointedly to read her up and down. Always plucking the weights from her heart by listening. Always unafraid to touch her. Evie hoped she returned that. She really did.
Fleeting seconds began to linger between them. Seeping slow and saccharine as fresh pouring honey.
Sneaking away on walks while he let her hold his hand. Flirtation against school lockers that ended in several 'just one more' kisses. Double dates to the movies with Tommy and Carol. Sitting separately to make out.
Driving up near Lover’s Lake to kiss in a parked Camaro while the sun laid itself down to sleep. Fumbling playfully to undress and explore. Watching the construction of a coming mall with Slurpees from the gas station. Tongues and lips colored all artificial cherry and strawberry.
Evie would stretch her wings completely. Let Billy admire them until the world was all satin rose-tinted. She could forget her urges and worries and insecurities. All together. This was fine.
She was fine. More then fine.
He so liked to admire her wings. Pleasure crushed in as she moaned. Let his fingers explore contours and notches untouched before. Billy would take those prayers on his lips and drape them over her body. Spell them between fleshy thighs. Pulling more fleeting seconds for himself too.
They could roll around under sheets and not worry about anything else. Have conversations that always felt silly and wonderful and weighted because they both mattered to someone so ardently. That alone was an ocean both could sink into.
Something beautiful to behold. The real vision behind the great red door. Your soul mattering.
Evie was in a bubble with Billy Hargrove. A stupid, dopey look on her face when Mona settled dinner down one evening. Steam rising from a huge pot.
“Going out later?” Evie began to create sound or she'd be lost. "You colored your hair brown again."
“Needed another change. Ah, I'm going out just with Karen and Claudia. Dessert and wine night. I asked Susan but that poor thing keeps standing me up. Did you finish Max’s gift for her party?” Mona scooped up huge portions in a bowl that Evie would only be prodding at.
“Yeah, it’s set. Turned out perfect. She’s not much for jewelry but I think a personalized tie dye shirt will be fun. Might look cool while skateboarding. I also have that goody bag of sweets for her to fill up on we made.” Evie reminded herself to pick up her spoon. Took a few bites.
“You’re not scarfing it down like usual, you love my crawfish soup.”
“It’s delicious, I just had a big lunch.” A lie. Evie pressed herself to eat quicker, tearing a piece of fresh bread to chew. Thing was, she wanted to eat. She wanted to eat so badly despite the sickness welling inside her. The heavy ache made it a task. Mona eyed her daughter there. “My stomach's in knots a lot, just school stuff.”
“Well, you are a senior.” Mona pushed her own soup around. “I haven’t been around as much as I’d like to be. Just the salon and I met-”
“I get it.” Evie’s lips spread in a flash, not wanting her mother to finish that sentence. “I’m with friends a lot and I keep busy with my music and the cat. I even wrote a new song.”
“That’s two this week, you. Strumming along blissfully.” Mona gushed. “Whatever has you all creative and dewy, chase it.” Silverware clicked around and Evie stared at her dish. A broader smile crossed.
"I will."
“What’s it called?”
“Ocean Eyes.”
Evie could be pretty transparent in the early stages of a relationship.
These short weeks in with Billy. Lyrics flooded free. Sometimes he liked to watch her write and strum when they hung out. Trips to the lounge where she worked other nights got him a full show, but not of her original stuff. Songs marched forth.
“Ocean Eyes.”
“Cupid and Psyche.”
“Honey Stardust.”
“Neon-Tinted Hearts.”
Rock. Pop. Lush and obscene with her glowing heartstrings. She wrote them for Fredrick too when they got together.
“Doll Joints.”
“Lollipop Lolita.”
“Prince Charming.”
After dinner, Evie stole a notebook filled with her every sinful lyrical confession of her time with Fredrick Bowers. Burnt it in an empty pot out back until Billy wandered out the back steps of his place. Asking her if she was trying to set the neighborhood on fire.
“How can I help?” He’d snarked while the sky went all pretty peach fuzz. Evie just laughed and never explained what she’d burnt or why it felt this cathartic to watch the smoke rise toward a falling sun. She figured maybe this was the day she'd stop eating foreign and sharp objects. She could do it. She was happier. Lighter. It had to stop.
It had to. She couldn't think about this haze shattering, it hurt too deep.
Billy used the flame to light his cigarette comically and kissed her before inhaling the smoke.
“Can we take a drive? Or walk if you’re low on gas?”
“Let’s walk, I got some cash doing my odd jobs for the damn neighbors, but I need it to last a bit longer with Max’s birthday. Got her this new board she was too chickenshit to beg our parents for.”
“Aren’t you a darling big brother?” Evie crossed her arms to follow him when the flame dwindled low. They went around the house to the front, started down the street. “Iris has some hours for me that next Saturday night.”
“You going to tell your mom about the secret job thing?” Billy inhaled and let smoke billow up into the afternoon light. They walked along Cherry Lane. Not touching. Counting steps while their shadows cast and the streetlights came up. A brisk night loomed, spring begging to creep through the month of March.
“I figured I could this summer. Around graduation. Just say I got something bigger since I’m eighteen and Iris can get me steadier hours. Gigs day or night. Maybe I’ll get to host a couple more drag shows. I miss those damn girls, the funniest performers know. I'll just let my mom down easy about the receptionist thing, hopefully she’s fine with it. Make it sound like I took initiative cause I'm a big girl.”
“And your grand singer plans?” He liked to ask about her and hang upon the syllables.
“Still up in the air. I’m taking the year off to work and write. Try for a talent agent or manager. I can record maybe...try to get airtime. There’s this contest thing, they do it every year and the winners always do well. But, I’m honestly too afraid to ask my mom about it just yet. I’m saving though here and there.” Evie beamed. “You? Summer and on.”
She was clearly asking if he was sticking around for summer.
“Odd lawn, house, and car jobs are getting me by. This whole street is a mess and the moms in town like to watch me work."
"Yikes."
"It means better pay and tips. I’m taking Heather up on her lifeguard offer this summer. I'll save up, Dad's already going to be asking for rent when I graduate."
"Shit."
"Yeah. Don’t wanna bank on that mall they’re opening with all the other little shits trying to get jobs first.” Billy leaned back to let the cooler air kiss his face, sighing before he tossed his smoke out.
Evie came to the end of the street near the forest, swayed around a streetlamp like she was in an old Hollywood flick. Dreaming long and endless. Sometimes she worried so often that she wasn't living. Just dreaming it all away. Maybe a center line was possible.
Maybe she'd be able to soar over it all.
Billy waited for her to swing back around it before he pressed into her for a slow, lingering kiss. Even better, maybe they both were sharing a dream. Making it of something stronger.
“So, how am I doing?” He joked lighter. Evie gripped the lamp to stay level, head tilting. “Two weeks in, almost three. This whole situation.”
“Situation.” Evie mused, slyly hiding half her face behind the lamp to hum. The shadowy starlet of a femme fatale she loved to watch on television with her mother. Glinting. Dangerous. "This whole situation?" She lingered to sigh it even slower.
"You and me." He'd sounded out, drawing nearer. "Us..." Evangeline, always the playful nymph, flitted off playfully. Spinning the other way to walk along so Billy came to her side easily.
“I think you’re doing fine." She tapped her chin. "What about me? Evaluate my performance.”
“Ah. In a sea of slithery tadpoles, you’re a goddamn firecracker.” He’d laughed and Evie followed, covering her lips with one hand.
“I don’t know how any of that correlates or makes sense, but I’ll take it.”
“Neither do I. Just made it up to see you do that. The scrunchy thing you do when you’re too happy or upset with me.” Billy’s nose crinkled as he grinned there. Evie came up to peck his freckles.
“You’re a total sap, Hargrove.” Evie continued, hands clasped behind her back before she inhaled the air. “Let’s hit that mini mart nearby. I’m craving a Dr. Pepper. Buy you a soda. It’s my turn.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re just being too nice again,” Billy remarked, feet shifting slower as they crossed the street. “I can’t take you fancy places.”
“I don’t need to go to fancy places, I just like hanging out with you wherever.” Evie turned her head to see him. “We’re both poor, we make due. Summer will be better. We can just work and...figure this out. I like it right now though, so don’t worry because I know how you shiver in those boots.”
She pondered it.
“Do you like it?” Evie offered quieter, earning Billy’s eyes searching her expression. Lip twitching, he tossed his arm around her. Brought Evie taut into his frame with an easier grin so they could keep walking toward the whirling, illuminated sign in the distance.
“Yeah, I like it.” He decided. “I like you plenty. What's not to like, Evangeline?” His free hand gestured out and Evie beamed to point at that darling face. Her Eros. Encouraging her wings to unfold without pressure.
"Wow, you're getting better and better at that." A beat. "Making me blush without rolling my eyes."
"Please, Angel, your knees quiver every time I hit you with this smile. You might as well toss off the panties for me." For good measure, he flashed it and Evie hid from his absolute burning charm. Cheeks felt that fire bloom and billow.
A car hurried past them. Sweeping budding flowers and loose leaves about. Delicate, they danced. Trees wobbled back and forth to the wind picking up. Evie stayed looking away to smile that time. Knew this wind would carry her easily.
"Did you have a best friend back in California?" She moved her arm around his back as they went.
"I don't know. Guess I had a few in orbit."
"Am I your best friend here?" She piped back up and Billy slowed to glance, chuckling.
"I thought you and I were avoiding labels."
"It's different." Came the protest.
"No, it isn't." He paused. "Heather's your best friend."
"Yeah, but I figured I could have more than one. Perfectly carved places for each." Evie shifted in front of him, hands smoothing up Billy's shoulders to clasp fingers round his neck. Blue eyes glittered to search.
"You trying to push some admission outta me, Fenny?"
Lashes batted with all the innocence they could hold.
"Just admit it, Hargrove," she pulled him down for a lip lock, pecking his jaw and cheeks until he broke to laugh and hold her at bay. One brow lifted. "It'll be our dirty little secret."
"Fine. Only cause you twisted my arm about it and it gets you hot. You are my very," he palmed her bottom to make her gasp in one motion, "very best friend. Happy?" Billy stole a kiss when she was still dumbfounded, molding their frames together.
"Maybe I am." Evie sighed, sounding too raw and honest about it. She came out to see his eyes there. Tried to read them. Billy blinked to say something else.
“So, you're already thinking about graduation and summer, huh? Moving quick.”
“I’m optimistic is all. It’s a rare thing with me so I'm just enjoying it. I’m not used to happy and good.” Evie got cheeky to hide anything else, winking over her shoulder before she went inside the tiny store.
Fluorescent lights washed out too many colorful packages. They picked cold cans of soda and bright yellow packs of Jujyfruit candies to curb a sweet craving. Billy gripped the paper bag in one fist and Evie snatched his free hand when they got outside.
“C’mon!” She picked up the pace. “Let’s catch the bus to the other side of town.”
“Billy Hargrove doesn’t take the bus. It’s all full.” He’d complained, still rushing after her to the stop.
“Try something new.” Evie was giggling, tugging at him to get on.
With the bus full of residents leaving work, they took some standing room with a group up front. Fingers curled into the handles above, swaying closer together due to the rocking and crowding. A hard turn sent Evie into Billy’s chest, her hand sprang out over his shoulder to catch the bar just above his head.
“Trying to jump my bones in public, little Miss Fenny?” He feigned a look of awe, brows lifting playfully. His free arm slipped around the small of Evie’s back, bracing her there into his marble frame. “You know how much easier it is if you just ask, Angel?”
Evie wanted to scoff. Wanted to scrunch that annoyed look she was known for. Wanted to send him to the floor and kiss him for miles and miles. But, she just stood there in the dim, flickering bus lights. Watched his expression relax. Not really breathing until she reminded herself.
Billy seemed to remember as well. At the back and forth shifting of the vehicle, they squished together. Forcing looks away to see the path again. Billy pushed his thigh further between her legs. Both of them idly rubbing together now. Evie felt the heat crawl up her cheeks, lungs tremoring. Billy’s fist holding the bag shifting a little lower on her back, firm and scalding hot.
She peered up at his jawline. Looked away. Felt Billy’s eyes wander back after before he flickered elsewhere. Denim pushed against denim. Billy hitched this breath as if he might whimper. Swallowed it down. Hips swaying back and forth and back again. A thumb pushed deftly into her back. Evie shifting in, lips parting. Trembling as Billy turned his head to see her centimeters from him.
“This is our stop.” She’d said in his ear. Leaning flush into him to pull the cord down. Billy inhaled the amber. Brushed his nose into her own while she came back out.
“Don’t wanna stop.” His freckles looked especially glowy outlined in a rare blush. The bus skidded and Evie veered back with some amusement. Brown eyes casting Billy up and down before she skipped off in a hurry, leaving him to chase her because he’d always chase her. Bag still wrinkled around Billy’s fist, he caught up with her. Under the streetlamps surrounded by dancing moths.
“We near Lover’s Lake?”
“Yeah, the park nearby. Figured some loitering would do us good.” Evie stepped across the grass and sand. Listened to the dark structures creak. “C’mon. I love the swings.”
She plopped back into one, legs kicking some before Billy joined her. He cracked one can of soda to offer it, feet shifting over the sand to sway closer together. Chains creaking.
They clicked drinks and guzzled fizz before Evie snagged the candy out. Stealing a few chewy pieces. The bright box got passed back and forth during a comfortable silence. Billy watched Evie as she observed the moon there.
“Do you know any constellations?” She’d asked quieter, forcing him out of the daze. Curls caught the illumination with stars dotting her dark eyes.
“Not really.” He took the candy back as she swallowed a piece.
“You see that crooked line? Those four little guys, they call that...Salem’s Lot. And...” Evie touched her lips, pointing again. “Those two bright boys there. Called Shawshank. Oh, and that one-”
“These are Stephen King references.” He pushed her.
“No, I’m very smart and they’re real-life constellations. Listen and learn, Billy boy.”
“So, are you gonna call that grouping, The Shining or The Overlook?” He pointed to a cluster and Evie snickered.
“Obviously that’s Carrietta White’s Constellation. Duh. Cause it looks like a rain of blood.” Evie snorted and Billy joined her, heads pressing together as they giggled like school children.
“You know she wears a crushed red velvet dress in the book? Not pink as seen in the movie.” Billy stretched out, finishing his soda.
“You know she’s fat in the book, too?” Evie winked at him, eyed the trash, and tried to toss her can at it. Missing badly, it smacked the rim and fell in the sand with a clatter. “Damn it!” Billy laughed at her louder.
“Don’t try for a career on the court, Evie.” He watched her pout as she plucked it up to throw it away properly. “Now, watch the master work.” He aimed as she sat down. One deft hand reeled back and launched it only to have Evie’s palm smack it easily the other direction. Almost falling out of her seat cackling, she got the candy pushed into her arm before he gawked and went to get it.
“Oh,” she kept up without air, “I thought you were the master? You should have seen your face!”
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, dunking it in the can with an echoing clank. For some cheery consolation, she offered the rest of the box to him. Tiny candy pieces fell into his palm before he pushed them all into his mouth at once, eyes lifting to the sky again. Billy made a face and turned to go to push her swing. “Gimme another constellation.”
“Hmm.” Evie held the chains, began to swing properly at his coaxing. Felt like they were in a secret garden together. Water rippling against the air distantly. Cold chill not bothering either of them. “Those two stars. The little one and the big guy. See?”
Billy gripped the chains, keeping her swing up against him to follow the gaze
“That’s Neverland. Second star to the right and straight on till morning.” She snickered again as Billy pushed her forward. “Bet I can beat you there. I’ll jump from the swing.”
“You’re on.” Billy stole the seat next to her, both of them pumping higher. Curls fluttering. Laughing. Happy because they were together and that mattered.
“I’m going to overthrow Pan and Hook. Become the most fantastic Lost Girl with a siren song to command the island and you’ll write your stories.”
“Think so?” Billy pushed himself higher. Actually thought he might fly with Evie there.
“Yes! You’ll tell the greatest stories ever heard through the land and they’ll echo back down here to be loved too.” She proclaimed that. Not having heard Billy’s stories, but believing what was in his heart.
Time slowed. Wild laughter crackled toward the sky. Utter sparks as they jumped together and collided to roll around the sand. Evie was still alight with joy under him, hair splayed everywhere as Billy snapped up to check her over, hovering. Evie’s giggling tapered off against the night air. She stared up at him. Framed in twinkling stars. He said something she didn’t catch.
“You have beautiful eyes,” Evie sounded out slower, lost in the endless crystalline blue. “Did you mean it?”
“Mean, what?”
“What you said when we were lying in bed together. You said I was the best thing about this place. People never say things like that. Not to girls like me. I believed it when you said it though and it was easy too.” Evie skimmed her fingers over his jacket. Watched Billy’s eyes flicker to recall that moment and the clouds he floated upon like lily-pads in a pond.
Billy swept down. Planted a hot kiss that was all lips. Swelled her mouth when he pulled out. He left Evie fluttered and came to her ear.
“That was a yes.” He pushed up, eyes too sly. “By the way.” Evie took a hand when he offered one and got pulled to her feet, bodies stumbling together. They tried to brush the sand off fabric.
“Do you think about that night? The dance, I mean. Not...the sex. Well, I guess it’s okay to think about the sex actually.” She blushed there when Billy’s lip quirked. His fingers still wrapped around her wrist. “Before all that went down with Brock. It was-”
“Not terrible.” He finished.
“Not at all. The first part of the night, sometimes I wish we could go back and-”
“Rewrite it.” Billy looked around, giving Evie a tug. He pulled her up on the metal roundabout, painted red and blue that was chipping away. “Hold on.” Another smile had curled as he braced to get it spinning.
“Billy!” Evie jerked to hold tight to the bars. Hair flying up. Curls coiled out. Fire billowing gracefully. “What are you doing!”
“Turning back the clock,” he charged and jumped on with her, wobbling to hold something, "to redo it.” Evie grabbed for his coat. Fisting the fabric when they locked eyes. Wind rushed in a thrill with memories tumbling together and apart.
Her wings sprang forth.
Billy made Evie the still point to his turning world. For just a moment. Knew, if anything, that meeting her was something truly important. An unseen force that would twist his heart forever.
Spinning round and round. He recalled the metallic confetti dancing and the way the music pulsed. The carousel began to slow, both teens holding the bars and each other to say level.
Slower, Evie pecked a kiss upon his lips to mirror the first. Unable to come out far, Billy was already closing the distance for the second. Trying to pay her back with a thousand sweet kisses.
Cheers rang and fireworks burst. She remembered it all too. How dizzy and still the world seemed to be. How it hushed for her too sweetly. Billy’s hands on her face, cradling delicately to angle the second kiss a little deeper. They felt the metal clink to stillness under them and inched back out.
“I want to go home with you,” Evie said the words she wished she had that night. Huge dark eyes glittering. She found his lips again. Not worried about air or what the future held for them. Lost on a rosy haze and perfectly fine for these stolen fleeting seconds. “Can we go?” Billy searched her, thumb sweeping a circle into her jaw. He smiled fully.
“Only if we can take the bus again.”
** ** ** **
“Happy Birthday!” Evie gushed, offering a gift to a small pile. Max had her arms around her before she’d gotten a chance to turn. One hand shifted to the shorter girl’s back. Music whirled with a campy light show, made the horribly patterned carpets glow. “Carol and Heather are on their way in. Tommy’s around but he won’t hang near the table.”
“Neil’s going to be late. Work stuff.” This explained why Max’s smile was so bright. Evie nudged her chin, head cocking. “You brought your own skates.”
“I know it’s dorky, but they’re my babies.” Evie gestured to the red skates swung over one shoulder. “Evie Fenny doesn’t rent her skates.”
“That’s El, come meet her,” Max pulled Evie off after she got one wave at Susan behind the table setting up. “Billy’s grabbing stuff from the car. He drove us.”
El Hopper was a tiny thing. Almost like a little bird compared to Hopper’s hulking frame behind her. She peered around and seemed at instant ease upon seeing Max.
“El, this is my neighbor, Evie," Max introduced them, "she’s cool.”
El made this gesture like she had a needle and poked at her hand.
“Yes!” Max got it, tugging Evie’s arm. “She taught me the felting thing.”
“Hope the sharp objects weren’t a bother in your house, Chief Hopper.” Evie perked up at Jim with a sheepish expression. “I should have asked you, I know it might seem a little dangerous.”
He actually laughed at that. If only she knew the danger these kids had gotten into prior.
“Believe me, crafts are a welcomed change.”
“El, nice to meet you. I’m Evie. Max talks about you all the time.” Evie held out her hand and the young girl looked shocked. “Good things.”
A slower smile crossed. She took Evie’s hand to shake it. Awkward about her navigation but trying to take everything in. Clearly never been to a party like this one. Kids of various ages circled the floor on skates. Laughing. Holding hands.
“Max...talks about you too. I like your hair.” El mirrored. Peered to Hopper with a pleased expression he matched. She offered Max a wrapped gift. Evie grinned and touched her curls, pulled up into two high, rounded buns.
“C’mon, let me show you the table they’re setting up.” Max took El’s wrist to usher her off.
“Are you...staying to skate?” Evie turned to the Chief.
“El’s, ah, not used to crowds. She came from some unfortunate circumstances. I’d like to stay close. First party. Maybe I’m hovering.” He pushed his hands into his pockets. Not in uniform. Evie beamed a little.
“She’s young, you’re worried. It’s sweet, actually. You’re just being a good dad.” The smile seemed to dither in her eyes. Even when Jack was married to Mona, he wasn't always around. Work and trips kept him busy, but he stayed to close to Evie the moment he arrived home with his little gifts and endless stories. “Don’t come running over if she falls, we got her.”
“Yeah, uh, if you could keep an eye on El when you see her around. That would mean a lot to me. I know you babysat the Henderson kid. El doesn’t need a babysitter, she’s just… This is new for her.” Jim gestured. Digging for a smoke he couldn’t have in the immediate area.
“Heather, Carol, and I will keep an eye out.”
“Carol?” He chuckled. “Perkins?”
“Oh, yeah, we made up. Funny thing.”
“Almost as funny as you hanging out with the Hargrove boy through winter.” He quirked his brow.
“What can I say, Chief...” Evie shrugged. “I’m...branching out.”
As if on cue, Billy paced in a side door. Bag clutched under one arm. He caught Evie’s glance instantly. Both of them locked in and back out on cue. Blue eyes shifted up and down because she was wearing his denim jacket over a little lacy, floral top tucked into her jeans.
Neil would arrive and they had an act to keep up. Ignoring each other.
“I’ll sit far." Jim offered. "Pretend I’m not here.”
She about cackled, lost in thought still.
“I’ll just pretend you’re my real dad,” Evie winced at herself, saw him pause with some subtle awe, “oof, I’m not sure where that came from. Ouch. Okay. Walking away now. Sorry, Chief.”
“Evie.” He eased a gentle hand toward her. “What I said. If there’s...anything going on. You can talk to me. On or off the record.”
“Yeap. Right. I’m okay. I’m...I’m gonna...skate. Yeah. Sorry. Oh, my…” Evie whirled to hurry off, cringing all the way to the table. “I think I just had a mental break.”
“What?” Heather had chuckled.
“Nothing. Time to skate?” Came Evie’s begging. Agreement followed.
Hopper made himself scarce with a cigarette and plate of cheese fries in the corner. Billy plopped himself into a chair behind the decorated table, looking disinterested. Not catching Evie’s eyes while she sat with the girls to put her skates on. Just watched Susan set out plates for pizza and cake.
Evie went out with Heather first for a lap, both of them giggling and pulling little stunts to show off for Tommy who was on the ground as Carol pulled at him. Max jumped over his leg, cackling before she tried to get El to come out with them.
“Kinda reminds me of us. They’re too cute.” Heather quipped, whirling to skate backward. They joined the younger girls, hoping to get El relaxed and away from the wall she seemed to cling to. Every turn, Evie shot Billy a look. Got his lips quirking before he ruefully was peering away.
“Do you want to skate, Billy?” Susan had asked after a beat, weary of the music already. Bit of a glittery disco mess. That same dreamy rose haze in the air.
“About as much as I want to give my old man a sponge bath, Susan.” Billy frowned for effect and dropped it when she actually laughed at him. It was an easier thing for them to talk without Neil’s shadow.
“Well, the offer is open if you want to.” Susan thought to tell him Evie looked beautiful today when she caught him staring at her for the third time but decided not to be obvious. Not yet.
“You’re supposed to tell me I’m being inappropriate and I’m going to send your only daughter down with me.” He recited easily.
“I was your age once, Billy, I know how to laugh still.” Susan seemed surprised at the revelation herself. Slowly, she took a seat next to him. Not leaving another chair as a buffer like she usually did. “It might not be so bad. Her following you, you know, after this. When she’s older. She still looks up to you.”
It became clear what Susan was asking him. Max would resent her one day down the line. For the choices she made. The things she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried. Maybe Billy and Max didn’t always get along, but he’d be a safer place for her than whatever was leftover in that house. Susan would always be under Neil Hargrove, but she could ensure her daughter would not be. One day.
Billy leaned forward on his elbows, palms rubbing. He felt for his ring and remembered it was hidden under Evie’s dipping sweetheart neckline. He didn’t say anything, but met Susan’s eyes.
“Evie’s been a good friend to her.” Susan crossed her legs and sat back to watch the girls laugh. Slowly easing into the conversation. El wobbled, holding hands with Max and Evie to gain some speed. Heather was trying to help Carol steady poor Tommy. “Don’t you think so?”
“I haven’t noticed.” Billy turned his head aside.
“She’s very pretty. Kind. That’s all I’m saying. She and her mother, they’re nice neighbors to have on Cherry.”
“Jesus, Susan, why don’t you date them both?” Billy shot up to go to the snack counter. Susan ghosted this smile after him, hands clasping. “Cheese fries. Jalapenos...Extra jalapenos.” He got his plate and turned to see Chief Hopper’s cigarette glow red. “You got any more of those? My pack is out and they don't have a machine in this joint.”
Jim just eyed him.
“I’m legal.” Billy puffed before a stick flicked across the table. “Camels. Unfiltered. Disgusting. Are you a flannel hobo of some kind with those?”
The Chief gawked at him.
“Don’t you smoke Reds? Baby’s first cigarette.”
Billy matched him. Offended.
“I’m smoking with the big boys, Hop. You should try it.”
“You in a place to complain, kid?” Jim reached to take it back before Billy swiped, lighting up to puff.
“No, sir.” His lighter snapped shut. “You unable to cut the cord or is dressing like a lumberjack to hang out at a 70s roller disco a hobby?”
“Haven’t seen you down at the station in a while. Few months, in fact. Turning over a new leaf this year?” Jim remarked instead, leaning forward on his elbows.
“Aw. You miss me or something? Your boys finally get tired of chasing me down? Or trying to.” Billy gave this comedic pout, head turning to eye Evie again. Graceful swan that she was out there. His jacket hanging off her shoulders, exposing that neck. Little wisps of curls swayed about from her space buns decorated with matching glittery star barrettes, loose hair framing her face. Brown eyes flicked up and he snatched his gaze away. “Guess I found something else to get into that isn’t trouble. You guys bore me down there, I like to be amused.”
“The real crime-stopper, boredom. Color me impressed and shocked.” Jim seemed to like that, eyes rolling. Billy puffed and swept a piece of tobacco from his mouth. “I guess whatever you’re doing, keep it up.” He watched Billy crunch on some salty jalapenos, plucking five gooey fries at once to swallow them down. Almost starved.
“I intend to.” Billy flicked his greasy fingers to his brow. “Chief.”
“William.”
Billy mumbled as he went off, finishing the smoke to flick it out a back door. Eyes shifting to watch the girls plus poor Tommy. El was already better than him.
“Man, I’m dying out here. Help me. I’ll tag you in.” Tommy scrambled up the sidewall and clung, out of breath. Freckles all dewy.
“You wanted to be a good boyfriend,” Billy cackled for good measure, "that'll teach you."
“Feed me a fry,” Tommy begged over the barrier.
“Fuck out of here, they’re mine. My dad will show soon so you can disappear to a corner and get your own damn fries.” To make it a point, Billy stood there and fed himself.
Behind Tommy, Max skidded and fell with Evie barely catching her. Both girls had gone down in a fit of giggling.
“We’re fine, go on!” Max waved to Heather and El ahead of them. Carol came to steal Tommy back as Billy craned to see his step-sister.
“You alright?” Evie was picking her up when Max’s shirt slipped closer to her pale shoulder, flashing a burst of purple there the size of a softball. “Oh, my god.” It slipped out before she could stop it.
“That’s-!” Max cut herself off and fixed her shirt. Spring was creeping and all she donned was long-sleeved and frumpy. Dressing almost like Susan. “I fell, you know, on my board.” Evie tried to give her the dignity of a look that said she believed it. Must have cracked. “Evie, it’s nothing. Don’t worry. Please.”
Dressing like Susan. Sounding like Billy.
“Max, my house is-”
“I know, but don’t… Don’t say anything. Not to Billy or my mom, ah… Neil’s here.” Max put her head down and skated around Evie to go away.
There was something particularly helpless about watching a young girl flee obediently to her monster. Evie wondered if this was what she looked like to Billy headed to Fredrick's place.
Small. Scared. Lost.
Neil Hargrove started with words. Lots of horrible words that whittled Max down to a hard pit. Then pushing. Then some grabbing. Then shoving. Into walls mostly.
The hit didn’t bruise Max. It was more of a swipe to make her go to her room for talking back. Whatever that meant to Neil. But, he was drunk and he caught her jaw with an open palm. That stayed red for the day until she snuck a pack of frozen peas, not wanting Susan or Billy to know.
But, the swipe sent her into the dining room table. Left the violet petals bursting under her skin. Evie lost the urge to skate and came out. Saw Billy’s eyes again and paused to help Heather usher El out for food.
“You’re a natural.” Evie complimented which earned a full smile. El opened her mouth to speak before Billy appeared in front of them.
“They’re making us sing.” He cocked his head, peering at El. “You’re the one with the funny name, aren’t you?”
“Jane. But,” she seemed to have trouble staring at him for more than three extended seconds and pointed to her chest, “El.” Red crept across her cheeks. Billy towered over her, cocking a wider grin to play up the fact that she was all blushy for a pretty older boy.
“El?” He raised one brow. “What’s the L stand for?”
“Ignore him.” Heather pulled the younger girl around Billy as he chuckled, pausing to see Evie. Her colorless expression.
“You okay?” He said it hard with a furrowed brow.
“Fine.” She tried to make it sound cold but it came out near silent. Head turned down as she flitted around him to join the party.
Neil, stiff and stoic, pressing his lips like he was at the damn DMV. Susan plastered a broader grin to dote on him after his long day, lingering close to his side as they set out pizza and readied the cake.
It was all so routine. Like getting your shots.
Pizza. Sing. Candles. Wish. Cake. Gifts. Thank you.
Billy and Evie took the farthest seats from each other. Played a game of glance and ignore that they’d made up on the spot. They both were either losing or winning.
“Strange,” Neil remarked as he pulled Max aside for another slice. “You and the high school girls.”
“Oh, I invited El too, she’s my age. I didn’t want to leave Evie out and the girls...they’re nice to me.”
“They don’t dress like nice girls.”
Heather and Carol both donned perfectly normal tees and jeans. Nothing would suffice for Neil Hargrove. Max shifted her cake around. No longer hungry for it.
“Maybe we’ll talk about the type of girl you should hang around at a later time. The Fenny girl is nice enough, even if her shirt is a little too...low. Dresses kinda tight. Bit of an odd one. She’s different. Her friends, well...I’m just not sure, Maxine.”
“Yes, sir.” She looked at her birthday cake like it was infested with worms. Carefully forced a bite and set it aside.
Max hung around. Smiled and thanked everyone after each birthday present. Even hugged Neil only cause he opened his arms at her. She said bye to El then Heather. Carol seemed to be turning in as well so Tommy went out back to get the car.
As the party went on and dwindled, Evie caught Billy’s eyes gesturing to the rental counter. He slipped around the corner into the many shelves and Evie turned back to see Max and Susan at the table. Neil seated in a chair not helping them clean up, eyes elsewhere. Casually, she skated around and got her arm snatched. A gasp snuffed against a pair of lips. Kisses hidden away from the world.
“Paid the kid a few coins and a threat to leave for ten minutes."
Music vibrated the shelves. Evie put her arms around Billy.
“I still have skates on.”
“Even better. I might have a thing for girls in red skates.” Billy was all hands, holding Evie steady. Pulling one leg around his hip. Pushing denim into denim. Hot friction might have done her in any other day.
“We are not hooking up with all the smelly rental skates.” Evie laughed into his lips, still pecking back and peering over her shoulder. She paused to see his eyes. Wanted to blurt what she’d seen on Max’s body. Even to Billy now, it felt wrong. So, she said something else.
“Hey, we should…keep an eye on your sister, you know. It’s her birthday. She’s...She needs her big brother.”
Billy huffed into her neck.
“Fine, fine, but you’ll regret not taking the adventure on here.”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” Evie shifted. “My feet hurt and we can make-out in my bed later.” She kissed his neck. “I’ll do that thing you like if you promise you went easy on the product down there.”
“Only dotted the gold crown. Scout’s honor.” Billy winked and she rolled her eyes. He peered out first. “Give it a second then follow.”
“Wait.” Evie thumbed her red lipstick from his mouth. “Now, shoo.” Billy licked his lips and snuck out. She waited a moment. Let the happy butterflies land in her stomach then followed. Pausing, her skates came off for more comfortable tennis shoes.
“Evangeline, do you need a ride home with us later?” Neil had asked.
“No, thank you, I was getting a ride with Carol now.” She smiled and looked for red hair to say her goodbyes. “Where’d Max go?” Evie collected her coat and Susan paused to peer around.
“She was here a second ago. Neil?” Hands dropped a stack of plates into the trash.
“Probably went to the bathroom.” He shrugged, squinting at all the moving lights that were making his head pound. “Billy, go find your sister.”
Billy seemed to notice the look on Evie’s face and feel the same chill before he hurried off without fighting. Susan looked through the sea of kids and teens meandering as Evie passed her to check the ajar side door.
"Max!" The one flickering light at the exit made her skin crawl. A cry echoed distantly followed by a dull crash in the dark. Like a bag of trash hitting the dumpster.
Evie dropped her skates to follow the hollowed-out sound. Exhaust swept up her nose and tires gave a harsh wail, horns sounding while a faraway car disappeared around a row of trees to get to the main street with the rest.
“Max!” Evie charged out. Heart painfully thudding within her ribs.
“Evie?” Carol heard her and footsteps echoed around the building.
“Max!” Evie was near tears now. A shift in some fallen trash bags made her pause when two sneakers appeared around the side of the dumpster. This odd scratching sound left her lips. Evie threw herself over the tiny body there, turned Max’s limp frame over.
Her shirt collar was ripped open where someone grabbed her. Or tried to. Dragging then dropping her when she put up a fight. Bleeding scrapes and dirt scuffed all over her pale freckled skin from the rough tumble. Carol got to them first and pulled off her sweater to cover Max’s torso while Evie gathered her up.
“Help!” Carol called because Evie couldn’t. More bodies arrived. Tommy. Susan. Billy. Neil.
“Neil, she won’t wake up.” Susan pulled her daughter out of Evie’s arms, shaking her. Moans filtered out, but nothing else. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. I saw...a car. It was too dark. I just found her here on the ground. Someone tried to...” Evie wheezed out and never finished, gesturing aimlessly.
“Susan, give Maxine to Billy. She needs a hospital.” Neil swept down as Billy urged his sister’s tiny body away. This hard. flamed expression on his face as if he wasn't really here.
Max looked broken. Not real. A doll left under the bed for too long without love or cherished stories to comfort it. Evie felt the knees of her jeans soak through from the wet pavement. Too many words hit the air and Evie’s eyes dropped to where that harsh car had gone to.
Evangeline wondered what kind of monster would grab up a little girl and throw her out into the trash.
And why the world bore so many of that same design.
~~~~~
Mad Max :( Her story line is gonna start to push toward the front here and there with Evie's in pieces. Thanks again for following the fic, I really appreciate it! Please please leave some words if you enjoy the fic. XOXO Taglist open
TAGLIST:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown @lukespatterson @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1
#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x oc#billy hargrove fanfic#stranger things#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove x plus size oc#stranger things fanfiction#angel fenny#Billy x angel#somy#writing#mine
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Picture with me. Mt Ormond Legion gets the map. They see what they think is a new cosmetic of like a fur coat. They go to taunt. An actual bear rears up and looks at them. Legion bolts and does not want to be injured by a grizzly. Lets survivors know from out of stabbing distance of the bear.
[bless u anon for feeding my dbd crack needs. you didn’t say which legion you wanted so have some rat boy frank!]
swearing ahead! also ooc but what else is new lol
Frank VS bear: ficlet/crack
Seeing the mist fade as he’s teleported into a trial, the familiar chilly mountain air seeps though Frank’s mask. He spins his knife and hums in content, glancing around at the grounds of the ski lodge he knows like the back of his hand.
“Fuck yeah, home advantage,” Frank grins to himself, starting the trek through the thin layer of snow towards the far side of the map where his annoying little survivor prey usually spawn.
He cuts through a jungle gym, slowing down once he spots something through the window. Is that a fucking fur jacket? Frank suppresses a snicker while imagining which of the survivor pricks the new outfit belongs to. Maybe bird boy wanted to look even more like a caveman? Or the sleazy gambler thought it’d go well with his trashy fucking sequin pants?
He doesn’t get any answers, as the person doesn’t seem to be moving, just crouching a ways off from the window trying to hide. He knows his heartbeat range is tiny, courtesy of the Doc’s teachings, so maybe the fucker has spine chill? Frank sidesteps the wall, walking backwards around the corner so as not to alert the skittish survivor.
“Hey fuckface, the 50′s called--” Frank taunts, finally turning around and raising his knife, ready to surprise the living shit out of--
Frank’s grin drops as he comes face to face with a fucking bear holy fucking shit! The bear growls before standing up on its hind legs and roaring--
Frank nearly shits his pants and scurries through the window in a frenzy, dropping his weapon while fumbling through the opening in a panic. He bolts out of the jungle gym, sprinting towards the other side of the map as fast as his legs will carry him.
His heart is pounding in his ears and he has no idea if the bear is following him. Frank braves a glance over his shoulder and--
“Shit!”
--trips over some inconveniently placed rubble, landing flat on his face in the snow with his mask falling off from the impact and sliding away on the icy ground. Fuck! Fuck! Frank looks up, frantically trying to spot the animal chasing him, but ends up freezing from mortification instead.
Not even five feet to his side, three survivors are crouching beside a generator, having stopped dead in their repairs to stare at him with varying levels of disbelief. For a few painful seconds Frank just awkwardly stares back at the familiar faces of fellow Ormondian Jeff, that tired bitch, Quentin, and wannabe Oprah--Jane? The silence is uncomfortable as nobody moves a muscle, the only sound being the slow putter from the generator.
“AHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Quentin, the little shit, finally bursts out and actually doubles over from laughter beside the machine. Frank feels his rage flare up and fuck that bitch is getting stabbed--
“Hey kid, you alright?” Jeff offers and approaches Frank, extending a hand to help the other up. Frank snaps out of it and springs to his feet, reminded of the impending doom of the bear chasing him.
“Bear! BEAR!!!” Frank yells, grabbing the bearded man by the shoulders and shaking him violently.
“Stop insulting him, you homophobic piece of--” Jane starts angrily, forcefully yanking Frank off of the artist.
“No you dumb bitch, an actual grizzly! It almost fucking ate me!” Frank explains in panic, slapping at the woman’s arm until she lets him go.
“What the heck are you on about??” Jane demands, rubbing at her arm where Frank landed a decent punch.
“He’s probably tripping,” Quentin deadpans, having recovered from his laughing fit and now back on the generator. “You know, on more than his own feet,” he adds, snickering.
“Shut the fuck up Smith--”
”Where did you see the bear?” Jeff asks with a serious tone, placing a calming hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank recoils away from the touch in disgust.
”On the other side of the lodge, near... I think by the snow cannon,” Frank explains, wracking his panicked brain for information.
”Would you show me?” Jeff asks.
”Hell no! I ain’t getting eaten!” Frank protests angrily.
”Like it'd want your skinny ass anyway,” Quentin quips. Frank whips around, ready to throw fists, when Jeff fucking touches him again ugh--
”We’ll try to spot it from the lodge balcony where it’s safe,” Jeff explains, reassuring hand on Franks bicep and shooting a warning look Quentin’s way.
”Jeff why are you humoring him? Surely it’s a trap,” Jane demands, hands on her hips and giving Frank the stink eye.
”Can’t you see how scared he is?” Jeff argues.
”I’m not fucking scared--” Frank starts, blood boiling and face heating up in embarrassment.
“You guys work on the gens on this side while we check it out,” Jeff again interrupts his tantrum, leading Frank to the lodge with a strong grip on his arm. Frank doesn’t protest (much), kind of glad to be rid of the two bitches by the gen.
He follows Jeff to the second floor of the lodge, and soon they’re looking around for the bear from the balcony. Frank spots it, almost at the exact same location as before, frantically pulling at Jeff’s sleeve and pointing at the animal.
“Holy shit,” Jeff says, astonished. “Why did the entity put a bear here?”
“I don’t fucking know! What the fuck are we gonna do?? I can’t kill you or the bear, I dropped my knife earlier!" Frank rambles angrily.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to kill anything,” Jeff says, thoughtful. “You know, there’s only three of us in the trial today.”
Before Frank has an opportunity to demand what the fuck Jeff is on about, the man says something that makes his blood run cold:
”I think the bear is the killer. And you’re... a survivor.”
“Bull-fucking-shit I’m a pussy survivor!” Frank protests angrily. “And even if I was--which I’m not... why?”
“Entity parenting?” Jeff suggests. “It’s probably sick of you being a brat.”
“I fucking hate you,” Frank says, giving his dirtiest glare. “The second I get my knife back--”
“Sure kid,” Jeff says and has the audacity to smile. “Now let’s go find the others.”
They find Quentin and Jane on a different generator than before. Jeff explains the situation, causing Quentin to, predictably, burst out in laughter.
“It’s not fucking funny--” Frank hisses.
“Oh my god I’m so done with this entity bullshit,” Jane sighs tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“What am I even supposed to do!?” Frank demands, crossing his arms and staring at the trio with barely concealed hatred.
“You’re supposed to help us out with wholesome magical teamwork!” Quentin beams, clearly getting off on his misery. “Or y’know, get mauled to death by the grizzly. Your choice.”
“Quentin, stop picking a fight and show Frank how to fix the gen. Me and Jane will handle the ones that are closer to the bear,” Jeff decides.
“Fuck no I ain’t staying with this cunt!” Frank exclaims, mortified.
“Works for me,” Quentin shrugs, ignoring Frank and merely offering a wave as Jeff and Jane take off.
After Frank reluctantly listens to Quentin’s half-assed instructions and crouches down to touch the generator in disgust, the annoying teen thankfully shuts up. For a while Frank tries his best to stay focused on the machine, his leg jumping in pent-up energy as his thoughts flutter between the threat of the bear, his rage for the entity’s stunt, the uncertainty of what’s to come after this trial--
“Motherfucker!” Frank curses at the machine as it explodes under his hands.
“You know,” Quentin says absently, not even acknowledging his failure. “You should ditch the fugly mask more often. Makes you almost tolerable to look at,” he challenges with a smirk.
“Maybe you should have it, fuck knows you need it more with a mug like that,” Frank shoots back without missing a beat, ducking behind the generator to hide a grin. His foot stops twitching and he realizes it’s much easier to focus when he has someone to banter with.
Later, when the stupid generators are done and there’s no sign of the bear, they regroup with Jeff and Jane (ugh) in an already opened exit. Frank grimaces as Jeff tries to give him some cringy heartfelt compliment, before flipping Jane off when the woman tries to start an apology. Jane huffs in annoyance while Jeff merely chuckles, leading Jane into the exit, both of them disappearing into the void.
“I wonder what’s gonna happen once you get out,” Quentin muses, leaning against the gate panel and not seeming in any hurry to leave. “You think this was a one-off?”
“I sure fucking hope so,” Frank mutters, not eager to repeat this dumb practical joke of the entity.
“You didn’t actually do terrible today, rat boy,” Quentin quips with a grin.
“Says the raccoon,” Frank mutters, turning away as he feels his neck heating up from a single half-assed compliment. Where’s his fucking mask when you need it??
“Eh, raccoons are kinda cute. I’ll take it,” Quentin says, thankfully ignoring his embarrassment.
“More like stinky and a pain in the ass.”
”None of those are mutually exclusive,” Quentin jokes, before looking back into the snowy map in thought. “Going back for your mask still?” he asks, with barely concealed... worry?
”Nah, Susie’ll make another,” Frank remarks, ignoring the other’s sudden interest in his well-being.
“Maybe you should do this more often,” Quentin says. “Get rid of the mask and, y’know, stabbing. Might even make some friends.”
“I don’t need friends,” Frank scoffs. He has his Legion, why would he want to play family with the survivors?
Quentin--smirks?--which is definitely not the reaction Frank was anticipating. Frank suddenly realizes he’s been standing way too close to Quentin for acceptable bro-range and the other is looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Frank feels his face heat up and an insult dies on his tongue. Quentin opens his mouth to say something, but seems to notice something behind Frank as his eyes go comically wide.
“FUCK, THE BEAR!!” Quentin yells and Frank bearly has time to turn around to see the massive animal come barreling towards them before Quentin is pulling on his jacket, making them both stumble and nearly trip over each other as they fall into the safety of the exit gate threshold.
[is frank a) a bi disaster b) terrible at making friends or c) all of the above? also where do i sign to let jeff adopt legion]
#frank morrison#quentin smith#morrismith#kinda#dbd legion#dbd#dead by daylight#dbd fanfic#request#dweetwrites
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
Of Flames and Fire: Prologue
[If you hate me for writing this, just remember I hate myself more and that this began because of a joke.]
Warnings: Ask to Tag
Word Count: 3627
Fandom: Disney Descendants
*************************************************
Dirt clung to the fringes of Maleficent’s robes as she descended deeper into the cavernous warren. Once upon a time her presence would have struck such fear that not even the dust mites would have dared come near her, but such a time was over now, and now the endings of her black cloak grew more and more soiled with every step she took.
She held a twisted candelabra in one hand and her faithful staff in the other. The small flame burned a deep rouge color, more red than yellow, with how thick and low the air had become. Maleficent was surprised it still burned at all. She was thankful for the candle’s valiant effort. Gone were the days where she could summon a ball of hellfire to illuminate the room, and with all the dust and filth in the air she wasn't sure her darkvision would be of any use.
A drop of hot wax struck her fingers.
Maleficent continued onwards.
As she ventured closer and closer to her destination, the sound of barking began to ring in her ears. Viscous growls, the sound of teeth hitting teeth, shrieks and yelps and oh so much barking. Were she a lesser soul it might have frightened her, or at the very least given her a pause, but she knew that no dog (three headed or otherwise) lived down here, just a lonely master trying to cope with the sound of silence.
(Out of everything her new prison tormented her with, Maleficent never thought she would grow to loathe the quiet. The silence. Even on the Forbidden Mountain she would hear the rustling of wind, the roaring cacophony of her minion’s delight, the sound of Diablo’s deep cawing. But here, even with the tumult of the budding city of thieves and villains, her thoughts screamed louder than any noise. Here she felt more alone than she ever did atop her ruined castle.)
No door was mounted to the cave’s wall, it would be far too impractical to do so, so Maleficent raised a curved fist and knocked thrice on a wooden post instead. “Who is it?” a voice called out from lower in the room, it sounded irritated and gruff, good. Maleficent smiled “Just a passing visitor Lord Hades”.
Quicker than she thought possible, the exiled Monarch of the Underworld stood leaning against the doorframe, one arm draped over the rotten wood and his head tilted with a school boy smile (if a school boy had eyes of glowing brimstone and thorny rows of sharp teeth protruding from his gums). “Why Miss Maleficent, what brings you to my little.. home away from home?”
She took a moment to drink in his sight, he looked more or less the same as he did when they first met, a little more tired, maybe, a little less put together, thick silver-colored cuffs bound round his wrists to drain his godly might. Still something about him seemed different, she couldn't quite place her finger on it, then she met his gaze. “Kohl around the eyes, Lord Hades? I do hope you aren't going Egyptain on me”
He snorted and rolled his- yes, black lined- eyes “Nah those guys are great, but they sure as Me don’t need another Death God. Besides- Blue Hair? Blue Skin? It’s already confusing enough for mortals to get us mixed up at parties, and don't even get me started on the Ptolemaic Pantheon menagerie, cultural syncretism is fun and all but all that rewriting and re-rewriting and who’s who even got my head more turned around than the gordian knot!”
Here Hades stood taller than Maleficent, even with his slumped posture and hunched back. The slope of the floor was curved in his favor. Her horns were a brandished crown growing, twisting, above her head and barely scraping the stone above her.
She let the humor linger in the air for a breath before speaking. “I have a proposition for you, my lord” she said while dismissing the candle and setting it down on a rock ledge. The light from Hades’ hair and lair would suffice to brighten her vision. Maleficent raised a free arm “Shall we continue our conversation inside? I feel it would be awfully rude to lurk in doorways.” Hades’ smile grew wider, almost splitting his face in two.
“My dearest disgrace to all things dignified, it would be my pleasure” He said, taking her arm and leading her inside. Despite herself she snorted. “My lord I am always dignified, it is deferential which I am not”
Hades’s new domain lay deep underground in the heart of the Isle. Despite his many years of hatred of being saddled with the burden of the Underworld, the room appeared very similar to his old home. ‘Perhaps that is the point’, Maleficent thought, wondering if his new dwelling was really of Hades’ choosing, or did he simply wake up on the Isle in a room modeled after his old kingdom, swapping an old prison for a new one. She wasn’t sure if Zeus had it in him...but Zeus wasn't the only one hurt by Hades’ failed machinations, and she knew that Hera certainitly did, fondness for her older brother or not- the Queen of Gods would not have hesitated to rub salt in any wounds of her child’s stealer. Especially when such irony would have been involved.
In another life, perhaps it would have been Hera who Maleficent would be conversing with, she did always have a healthy respect for the Golden Throned Goddess,like draws to like afterall, and there is nothing more similar yet individual than women with power.
Then again, in another life she wouldn't need to bargain, in another life she would have crushed Prince Phillip’s sword between her teeth and swallowed him whole, in another life she would have blessed the infant Princess with a gift of her own, something clever and far more powerful than any of the Three Sisters trivial delights. In another life---
Hades leads her to a sitting area, long tatham benches set interlocking with one another, made of dark ebony wood. Maleficent gathers the excess of her robe in her grip and takes a seat, then slowly lets the fabric flow down and unfurl on the clean gray floor. The Lord of the Dead seats himself next to her, and after a moment’s pause, she allows him to wrap one of his hands around her waist.
“I have come to reclaim my debt, Your Majesty” she begins, he laughs and jokes “I’m not a accountant dollface, you’ll have to be more specific. I think I still got some styx-water sloshing around in my skull” but she can see the tightness around his eyes, the stiffness in his fingers as he cleans his ear and flicks a droplet of water over his shoulder, he knows exactly what she is referring to. He also knows that his newfound lack of power might have put him in a very precarious situation. Maleficent smiles sharply.
The grip on her waist tightens.
“Then let me help to restart your memory, years ago you needed an elixir that would turn anything, even a God, mortal. I concocted such a potion on the clause that you would… how did you say it? ‘Owe me one bigtime mama '’” she said drolling her words and making air quotations with her slender fingers. The God of The Dead had the decency to look sheepish, a bright blue blush blooming under his siltstone skin. “Okay yeah might’ve been a bit drunk on success when I said that…”
“Mmhmm” Maleficent hummed, raising a single eyebrow.
“....sorry”
“In any case, a deal is a deal, and now I see to collect my end of our bargain”
“It would be my pleasure my lovely lady of labilzation--” “that one was better” “Thank you I do try, --- however I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that, unlike before, I no longer have the Underworld and all its resources at my disposal to grant your dark heart’s deepest desire-- “Lord Hades are you implying I ever had a heart to begin with?” “ Ha ha no. But you do have desires that our current predicament might limit me from fulfilling”
“And you do hate to leave your women unfulfilled, don’t you Hades?”
“Yes I- HEY” Hades began with his usual smooth inflection, not even really looking at her, before cutting himself on and standing up in outrage. Face pinched and flushed. He started pacing back and forth in front of her while Maleficent looked on in cruel delight. He was yammering about something, going on about respect and proper dues and getting wonderfully worked up about himself. It almost made her nostalgic.
“I mean I know I’m no roving casanova like dear little Zeus-y, Persphone would gut me for even trying that and--”
Then his body stilled and he turned to face her, running his hands through his hair to gather his thoughts. Pity, she was enjoying she show. “Alright I get it, playtimes over. What do you want Maleficent? What under this damned barrier could be so important that you need to cash in on?”
“You and I both know Lord Hades that there are forces far older and far more powerful than this Godmother’s little trick. Deals, oaths, dept, magic sworn by magic will be repaid in turn. ” Maleficent raised herself slowly, taking small measured steps to where Hades stood shadowed by the cavern’s light. “As for what I want? That's simple, I want your name”
Name, she hissed out the word, the word that had churned and boiled somewhere deeper than her stomach and rose up her throat, that fell down her tongue and turned sharp and low against her teeth. The word that made her eyes flash with a power that no well intentioned Godmother or once cursed King could contain.
The word that made the Lord of the Dead, Hades himself, fall stumbling backwards to his knees. The shadow wrenched away from him in haste, revealing his wide eyes and- oh how she missed this- positively wreaked expression. If she was someone else she would say he was nervous, his face too numb to be fearful, but Maleficent knew better. He was terrified.
Pleas spilt from his lips like ambrosia in a clumsy hand. He was almost begging her now, with more fervor than he ever begged before--
( In times of old when the earth was freshly taken and the sky still red with titan’s blood, three brothers gathered to divide the cosmos between themselves. The youngest made his claim to the sky and took it’s child, the mighty thunderbolt, as his symbol. He gifted the sea to the middle brother who accepted it glady, but to the oldest he gave no pearl-rich land or magnificent heaven, but the burden of the damned and dead. The darkest corners of the world, where no light reached and the wild souls wandered aimlessly in the eternal darkness. His older brother objected, of course, and perhaps he even set aside his pride to grovel, but the youngest was unyielding. )
“Please Mali, don’t, not that I’ll do anything--”
( Once Ra fell sick from a clay snake bite, and called a council of every man and women and God to come and aid him, but they could do nothing. Then he called for Isis, for surely she would have the answers to his prayers. “What ever you need, I will provide” And so Isis said to the sun god Ra, ‘Great king of The Heavens and all we hold dear, the venom in your blood is much too strong, the only way I can heal you is with the knowledge of your Name’. So Ra listed off all of his titles and epithets, of which he had many, but Isis was not deterred. ‘My Lord and King, though those names are as grand and great as you are, they are not the one of which I refer to. If you wish to continue as yourself, ruler of the Gods, I will need your Rem to cure you’ said Isis and Ra knew she spoke the truth. Banishing the other medicine men and healers from the room he took Isis into his wings and bared to her the fifth of his soul, the name in which all his power sprang from. Isis took the name and healed Ra, feeling the universe realign with her at its helm, Goddess above Gods, of life and moon and medicine and magic. The fruits of her cunning rewarded hundredfold. And she smiled.)
“-- you don't want that old thing, I mean, what would you even do with my name anyway? It’s not like it would be of any use to you here”
“That, Your Majesty, is where you are wrong.” Maleficent slammed the end of her staff on top of the end of Hades’ robe, catching him in place as he tried to flinch backwards. She knelt before him, his back arched so completely he resembled more of a semicircle than a fallen God, his body so small here compared to hers. The long tendrils of her cloak sprawled themselves across the floor, their edges slithering like snakes, writhing and engulfing them, Hades was a cold star trapped amidst a sea of dark fabric.
“You asked me what could be so important to me that I would risk claiming my due of our agreement here, under this hell forsaken barrier. Why would I step into the limelight after years of isolation to rule an island of filth and trash” she pressed a single nail to his face tilting it up, forcing him to meet her gaze. “Because here is where my child will be born, and no blood of mine will be powerless while I still live to conquer and provide”
Her child, who was barely an weight in her arms, hungry for magic where there was none, hungry for food unrotten and drink unspoiled. If Maleficent was kinder she would crush it’s skull beneath her feet and spare it from a life full of pain and longing. Years of torment and clawing at it’s own skin spared in a moment’s decision.
(Her child, who could one day release their Mother from her prison, if they had will to do so.)
Maleficent had never been a kind person.
She did, however, on the seldom occlusion, know mercy and how to manipulate the unwilling. She could just rip his name from his chest, leave him broken and shivering on the cold stone floor. The thought was tempting, it really had been too long since she last had the chance to destroy someone so thoroughly, but she knew it would be better in the long run if she could get Hades to cooperate. Never let it be said she wasn’t a patient Mistress.
Leaning her weight forward she gingerly took one of Hades’ wrists in her hand, turning it over and carefully inspecting the thick band that now encircled it . This close she could feel the way it softly vibrated under her touch, the binding sigils carved so delicately and deep into the metal.
Her skin burned on contact, but you would never tell by her expression, eyes trained on the way Hades’ life force flowed. Faint traces of his magic traveling down his veins and funneling into the band, which would pulse slightly and constrict, the sigils would glow and hold, before loosening its too tight grip on its host. Then the cycle would continue anew.
It was one of the most brilliantly constructed and horrid devices Maleficent had ever laid her eyes on.
It was a work of art.
And as she read the runes she began to recognize what artist could have made such a beautiful thing.
“Do you know just how luck you are Lord Hades? While the rest of us villains must serve a penance that will span the rest of our days, you sit here with shackles holding only until you meet their requirements. I always wondered why Auradon would risk the order of the world just to fulfill their pallid sense of morality, and here my questions are answered. It seems the true nature of your punishment is far more poetic than a measly imprisonment, no, the true keys to your freedom lay in siring a child,”
A cold sense of realization dawned on Hades, “Hera” he whispered.
“How does the saying go again? An eye for an eye.” Maleficent pushed her nail deeper into the skin of his arm “A lost babe for a lost babe.”
Something inside Hades’ eyes broke at her words, and he begun laughing, freely, manic not maniacal, the laugh of a man who knew the entire cosmos was a joke and now he finally got the punchline. “Oh Hera!” He cried out, gathering the shattered pieces of himself and pulling them together.
He stood up from underneath her, fluid as smoke escaping from her grasp, as if his body was still atmos and ichor- not confined to rigid flesh and blood. ( A distant part of Maleficent imagines Hades, stumbling and impaling his head against a stalagmite as he has to relearn how to walk again, learn how to live in a body so forign yet familiar.) He did not offer to help her, and she made no move to rise, instead she remained sitting, her back ramrod straight and hands folded across her staff which rested on her lap.
Over the sounds of running water and the everpresent barking, Maleficent could hear the sounds of his brain work. Spinning gears within gears furiously trying to take in the new information and generate a more beneficial outcome for himself. “Alright, you want my name, you want power, you want little Maleficent Junior to grow up with magic, which I can’t blame you for. I want to get out of here and I want my wife not to kill me on my arrival, so I propose a solution that just might work for us both”
“Go on”
“ gift part of my name to the little tyke, giving them- and by extension you- power that not even this blasted barrier can suppress. That means that in the eyes of magic, I’m basically your baby’s daddy”
“And are you willing to uphold that responsibility? I have no need for a husband nor a housekeeper, but both dragons and fae are known for their possessiveness and of them I am both”
Hades didn't miss a blink, shark toothed smiled fixed back in place on his face “My magnificent Mistress of Misery from now until my chains are unfettered and I am called away to return to my Iron throne, I do swear to treat your little demonspawn as if they were born from the rotten fruit of my loins. Now, do we have an agreement?” Now he looked down at her, hand extended for her to shake. “Going once… going twice..”
Maleficent leapt forward, her hand digging deep into the weak flesh of his arm, she used to movementum to pull herself close to him, nose to nose, sharpened teeth to sharpened teeth, her horns haloing her head- two blackened crests protruding from her skull that reflected the dull blue light of the room. “Its a deal” she declared. Smiling viscously as she felt her eyes flare, not gold, but green, green as burning hellflame, fire in its purest form.
If this were anywhere else but The Isle of The Lost, thunder would crack at their declaration, a ring of light would maifest around their grip sealing their oath in color and magic. The air would ignite at their words. However, this was The Isle, and so the only illumination of fate’s rearrangement came from the flicker of light on Hades’ wrists as the runes surged, the taste of copper under Maleficent’s tongue, and the deep bone-seated feeling that something big will come. This was the stone whose ripple will cause the wave years down the line.
Maleficent hoped it would rise and drown the whole world.
She almost smiled at the thought.
---------------------------------------
---------------------------------------
“Huh”
“What?”
“You know when you said you had a baby, I kinda pictured- you know- a baby”
“I do hope you aren't talking bad about our child, it hasn't even hatched yet”
“Maleficent thats not a child, thats an egg”
“You think I would birth a infant mammal? Don’t be so crude, egg laying is a much more civilized method of reproduction”
“Wait does that make you a reptile? Oh sweet Zeus don’t tell me you are? What can you unhinge your jaw? Do you have a hemi--”
“Silence your tongue Lord Hades before I cut it out myself”
“Sorry sweetcheeks I couldn't resist”
“....”
“...sorry”
“Now traditionally Mother and Daughter would pass on a portion of their name until the time came where the Daughter earned to full title of Maleficent, usually by slaying their Mother and taking her name for herself. Until that day a middle name would serve as a placeholder to help differentiate them, a Mal Bertha or Mal Lamia or something of the sort. If you are giving up one of your titles, perhaps Mal Aidoneus would suffice?”
“Yeah, no”
“No?”
“Listen, Fairy G’s little parasite pocket is going to hone in on quote the name of the “The Mistress of All Evil” like a cyclopes at a half-off everything sunglass sale. You want this kid to have even a smidgen of a chance we gotta change it up a bit.”
“Well then Your Majesty I don’t suppose you have any better Ideas”
“........Malenthea”
“Hm?”
“Her name, it will be Malenthea”
“Then so mote it be”
“....”
“....”
“HOLY RHEA YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THE EGG WOULD EXPLODE--”
#disney descendants#descendants#fic#writing#my writing#maleficent#hades#Disney Hades#OC: Malenthea#Of Flame and Fire Au#descendants rewrite#descendants fic#Mal Bertha#mal descendants#fae Mal#dragon mal
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
April 4, 2021: The Great Dictator (Review)
It's a 100%. Haven't given one of those in a while!
Here's the thing: this is a great film. Hang the comedy bit, even though it's also a very funny film! This is a great movie, no questions. I actually have no problems with it, and barely any actual commentary, gonna be honest. Fact of the matter is, it's essentially perfect in my book. Maybe it's not actually flawless...but I'm having a lot of trouble seeing any flaws. If you've got any, PLEASE tell me! I'm curious, really.
But OK, why am I even writing this, then? Because I want to close out this Golden Era of Comedy with a post about the end of its biggest star, Charlie Chaplin. Because from here...things are all downhill. And the seeds of that journey can be seen in this film. So, in other words, this post is a film history post. WELCOME TO SCHOOL
Yeah, sorry. If you like these history posts, I hope you like this one! And if not...yeah, that's entirely fair. Go ahead and skip this one! The next movie is Arsenic and Old Lace, so I'll save you the trouble of scrolling down! See you next time!
...
...OK, you still here? Cool, let's do this. Go ahead and "keep reading" for more on Chaplin after this film!
Review: Charlie Chaplin
Chaplin's walking on air, at least in terms of his film career! The Great Dictator will become his best-received film critically, and was a smash-hit in the United States. But that's pretty heavily contrasted with the reception of, well, Chaplin himself. Because unfortunately for him, Chaplin's ideologies would soon VIOLENTLY clash with that of his adopted country of the United States.
First things first, his love life was a mess, as was typical for the film star. His latest significant other was actress Joan Barry, and they separated bitterly (AKA, the only was Chaplin separates from anybody), after having a child together. This relationship would begin the downfall of Chaplin's image, starting in 1942. And that would be due to one of the most irritating, shitty dudes in the history of the FBI: J. Edgar Hoover.
Hoover HATED Chaplin, mostly because he was suspicious of him, as he was with EVERYBODY. Fuck Hoover, by the way, dude was a monster. He was also an INSANE patriot, bordering on straight up nationalism. But his hatred of Chaplin revolved around the fact that Chaplin's views were...controversial. I mean, Modern Times was an anti-industrialist film, and that's what the USA was ALL ABOUT at the time. And then, there's...one more thing. I'll get there.
Hoover launched a smear campaign against Charlie, and the Barry case was saddled with an additional allegation: violation of the Mann Act, which stated that it was illegal to transport women across state lines for sexual reasons. It was an attempt to stifle prostitution, and part of a massive moral panic of the time period. It was a bullshit charge, and Chaplin escaped it in trial. But damage had been done to his reputation, and Charlie was about to make it worse.
Shortly after, in 1943, Chaplin would meet his last wife, Oona O'Neill. She was 18, he was 54. Fuckin' OOF, dude. And in 19 years, the two would have EIGHT CHILDREN JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHAPLIN!!!
Anyway, other than this positive development, the Barry trial had beaten the shit out of him, will-wise. But he began developing a new ambitious film project in 1946, which was called Monsieur Verdoux. This was a black comedy about a bank clerk/serial killer that killed women for money. Which is obviously pretty controversial in a moral panic-stricken America, but that was made worse by Chaplin more overtly expressing his political views...which were violently anti-capitalism! In post-World War II America!
Uh-oh.
In 1947, with the release of Monsieur Verdoux, the film was legit booed at the premiere in the USA. Fuck. Tensions finally came to a head, and Chaplin was "outed" as a filthy, filthy commie! And I put "outed" in quotes because, well...he wasn't. Sure, Chaplin was against capitalism and military nationalism, as well as sympathizing with communist ideals in some cases. He was also friends with suspected communists, and with Soviet diplomats. And that shit's barely OK NOW amongst a pretty big proportion of people in the country. In 1947? WAY FUCKIN' WORSE.
Chaplin was "dangerous and amoral" according to the FBI, and he probably believed in equal rights for minorities too, the FILTHY FUCKIN' COMMIE!!! But, yeah, he was targeted by Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee, and was nearly listed as one of the Hollywood Ten, a group of filmmakers blacklisted from Hollywood for alleged communist activities. Chaplin escaped that, but was still a major target for the Red Scare.
Chaplin, not giving a fuck as always, now decided upon a new project. Limelight was a semi-autobiographical film, in which he played an aging former vaudeville actor who had lost his popularity and fame, and falls in love with a younger woman. On the nose as always, Chaplin. Also, that's Buster Keaton in the GIF up there! Only time the two ever appeared on screen. Neat, huh?
Chaplin went home to the UK for the film's well-publicized premiere in 1952. And that's when the US Attorney General STRUCK, revoking Chaplin's VISA, and trapping him overseas permanently. Chaplin was banned from the United States, through really shitty underhanded tactics. Fuck, man. Worst part is, it's since been proven that there was no good justification for the VISA to be revoked. But the damage was done, and Chaplin willingly cut his ties with the United States, having been spurned by his adopted country for years.
Loved in Europe and hated in America, Charlie continued making films, with his next film being another semi-autobiographical parody called A King in New York. He also came out not as a communist, but as a straight-up anarchist! He hated government altogether at this point, and it's hard to blame the guy. He really did get screwed. But, ironically, his love life was now quite stable, and his marriage with Oona was happy, by all accounts.
His films were banned in the United States, and Chaplin banned them right back, not releasing his films there, and preventing American journalists from attending its premiere. But even ten years later, Chaplin's filmography began to re-emerge for movie audiences, and his popularity began to rebound. The man was just that good, what can I say? Chaplin made a romantic comedy in 1967, called A Countess from Hong Kong, and starring Marlon Brando of all people! It was his first color film, and...it did NOT go well with audiences, ANYWHERE. It just wasn't well-received, and that film would be Chaplin's last.
In 1967, Chaplin had his first stroke of many. He continued his marriage with Oona, and even continued making another film called The Freak, an ambitious project from what's known about it. Basically, it was about a South American girl with wings, which is interesting. In 1972, after 20 years away, Chaplin was welcomed back to the United States with open arms, and was given an Honorary Academy Award for his insane contribution to the medium since the Golden Age of Hollywood. He was given a 12-minute standing ovation, the longest ever given at an Academy Award ceremony.
Still planning on making his film, he returned home. But the film went on a permanent hiatus by 1977, by which time his health had badly declined. On Christmas Day, 1977, Chaplin was found dead, having suffered a stroke in his sleep. He was 88 years of age, and was buried two days later in Switzerland. And THEN...he was dug up.
Yeah, DUDE'S GRAVE WAS FUCKIN' ROBBED! A couple of guys held Chaplin's corpse for ransom, which didn't work out for them, and he was reburied a few days later, this time in a reinforced concrete vault, where his remains remain to this day.
youtube
Charles Spencer Chaplin is one of the greatest actors and filmmakers of his time, and didn't deserve the guff he got from the government. The guff he got from his wives...eh, that he probably did deserve, not gonna lie. Dude wasn't the best husband, or the best dad to at least three of his kids. But in an ongoing effort to separate the art from the artist, Chaplin needs to be appreciated for the mountain of talent that he was, and his films will make him immortal in the annals of film history. Long live the Tramp.
But with him and his influence, the film industry had a place to evolve from, especially in terms of comedy. After The Great Dictator, some comedies felt the freedom to take a bit of a darker tone. And from here on out, we're splitting the timeline by genre, tracking comedy films by the evolution of their respective genres. And we start in 1944, with a film about...MYURDERRRR!!! And sweet old ladies!
April 5, 2021: Arsenic and Old Lace (1944), dir. Frank Capra
#the great dictator#charlie chaplin#paulette goddard#jack oakie#henry daniell#reginald gardiner#billy gilbert#maurice mossovich#user365#365days365movies#365 days 365 movies#365 movies 365 days#365 movies a year#comedy april#useraina
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Love has a funny way of pulling you back in
Tony had finally fallen asleep after staying up for three nights in a row. He had Jarvis turn everything on do not disturb and he planned to keep it like that for a while. Until his cell phone decided to go off. “Hello, who is this? Do you know its three in the morning?” “Heyy Tony, what do you say you come over here and I will show you a real rough and fun night?” On the other side of the line was a very drunk and very horny Steve. Tony didn’t have time to deal with his old fuck buddy. The way their arrangement ended was hard for Tony and he really didn’t feel like talking to him.
Tony and Steve laid entangled together in Steve’s one-bedroom Brooklyn apartment. Steve didn’t want to ever leave this spot. Steve finally felt safe with Tony wrapped up in his arms. He had a very troubled past with an abusive father on one hand and exes that would bring him down that he never felt like he could have the love he deserved. Not until he found Tony. They were friends for years and there was always a connection between them until one night after way too many shots of Fireball they decided they would move their friendship to be more friends with benefits. It was fun for a while until Steve caught feelings, but he could never really let Tony know this. “Hey, Steve what’s wrong you’re really quiet.” Tony turned to face Steve and saw stormy clouds cover Steve’s eyes. “Oh, nothing just thinking. You know I am always in my own head.” Steve pushed back Tony’s hair out of his face. He wanted to see his golden eyes one last time. “What are you thinking about? Anything important.” “Nothing too much. Just the future you know. Life could change in a minute. You know.” Tony took a deep breath ready to admit everything that was on his heart. “Yeah, I have been thinking about the future a lot too.” Tony sat up to see Steve’s face better. “I was thinking maybe we should move this from just fucking to something more. Like maybe we could go on a date. Maybe down at that dinner on 4th and 32nd street. What do you say?” There was a pleading in Tony’s voice. He needed this to work. “No.” Steve stood up and walked over to grab his pants off the floor. He couldn’t bear to see the look on Tony’s face. “No! What do you mean by no? You don’t want to date me. Why?” Steve wanted to cry. He wanted to run away because he knew Tony’s heart had just shattered in a million pieces. “No, I don’t want to. I don’t have feelings for you like that. Why do we have to take this farther? I think this is great the way things are.” Tony stood up and walked towards the door. “Well, fine then I’m done. I’m done with this mindless sex. I love you and I could see us having a future together but if you don’t then I think we are done here forever.” Tony grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open. “Do you have anything to say before I leave?” Steve kept quite with his back turned against Tony. “Fine, goodbye Steven.” Tony walked out and slammed the door behind him. Steve finally turned around to find himself standing in an empty room.
“Tony, are you there.” Tony stayed quite on the other end of the line. Did he really want to fall back into this? His heart broke and had just moved on from the man he would have given the world. “Yeah, I am here. I’m not going to come over and sleep with you. Are you okay it’s not like you to be this plastered in the middle of the night alone?” The line got really quiet. It was a long time before Steve finally answered. “No, no I am not okay. Is there any way you could come over? I could really use a friend” Tony grabbed his keys and hopped into his car. This wasn’t like Steve to beg and plead even though all the abuse he went through. He never showed his weakness.
Tony picked up the doormat to find Steve’s spare key. “Hey, is anybody home.” Tony walked towards Steve’s bedroom to find it completely empty. “Hey, Steve are you in here?” “I’m in here.” Tony walked into the bathroom to find Steve in flannel pajama bottoms and no shirt. If Tony was here for any other reason, he might have jumped at Steve’s original offer. Tony walked closer and kneeled next to Steve. “Tony, you came.” Steve laid down onto Tony’s lap which took him back a little bit. They haven’t even spoken to each other in two years, so this intimate touch made Tony feel a longing in his chest. Tony stroked Steve's hair like he used to do when they were kids and Steve needed to rest after the beating, he got from his father. “Of course, I came why would you think any different. Now, will you tell me what’s going on? Why are you drunk off your ass right now?” “Remember that time we snuck out of school in eighth grade and we went to the mall to see Stars Wars the Return of the Jedi. After we saw the movie, we saw a photo booth and You pulled me in because you wanted to remember this day forever. It cost three dollars which was all I had in my pocket, but I used all of it just to see you happy before our lives had to go back to normal. Well, I found those pictures tonight and it brought a rush of emotions back. You know us Rogers men aren’t great with our emotions, so you know a bottle of Jack Daniels just numbs all of the pain. Father like son right.” “ Stop it, you are nothing like your father. You are a good man. Rogers, a good man.” Steve just shrugged him off and handed the stripped of film to Tony. Tony just looked down at two boys with no care in the world. Tony remembered that day like it was yesterday because it was the best day of his life. That was the day he fell in love with his best friend.
“Yeah, I remember that day. You were so scared to go, and I had to practically drag you along. Then afterward we went and sat at the top of Cedar Mountain until our parents called the cops looking for us. We got into so much trouble that day, but it was worth it. Every bad decision with you was worth it.” Tony leaned in closer. What was he thinking Steve didn’t have feelings for him two years ago and he defiantly didn’t have feelings now? Steve wrapped his hand around Tony’s neck and pulled him down closer. They’re lips met with the same fiery passion from so long ago. Tony deepens the kiss allowing Steve’s hands to dance across his body. “Tony, I am sorry. I should have stopped you from walking out that door so many years ago. I love you more then the man in the moon could ever know. I was just so scared I would hurt you. When you walked away, I knew I did the one thing I swore to never do. I want to live a complete life with you. I want to hold you in my arms forever. I want the white picket fence, the dog running around the back yard and the two kids running around the house. Do you want that? Please say yes.” Steve began placing tiny kisses along Tony’s collarbone which made Tony lose all the hatred he had towards Steve. Of course, he wanted all of that. “Yeah, I would want all of that.” Steve looked into Tony’s eyes and knew that was what home felt like. He knew he would finally be safe. Steve started to fall asleep onto Tony’s shoulder and let himself drift off to happiness. “Steve let’s get you in bed.” Tony half-carried Steve to his bed and pulled the blanket up over him. Tony leaned down to give him a kiss and prepared to leave when Steve wrapped his hand around his wrist. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Tony pulled the cover backs and laid down beside Steve. Steve rolled over and pulled Tony in tightly. Steve knew this time he would never let Tony ago again.
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Caveway To Hell
Day 13: Door. I did- so with something like this, you either have to take it 100% serious or go crack fic. By “something like this” I mean a Sanders Sides/Devil May Cry crossover, I did a DMC crossover, you don’t need to understand it, I don’t understand it.
------------------
Remus had been dead for two-and-a-half-years. Until, unfortunately for museum curator Janus William, he wasn’t.
“Where is it?...” something may or not have whispered from the dark.
It was late into William’s shift, and the slight patter of footsteps he kept fooling himself weren’t his own wasn’t helping the night pass any quicker. He’d done this enough times, he thought, backing against one of the glass cases, there was no reason to be nervous. Then? Then the glass smashed behind him.
A figure, somehow stood in the container, holding a recently-procured-mace and clad in an emerald-green leather jacket. Janus tried to look past the large shards of glass stuck in his face and see who this was, maybe get a better description for the police, but he didn’t get the chance. This man, antique mace in hand, ran towards the museum curator- and swung.
-Four weeks later-
Posters up for ‘the man in green’. Lots of people wear green. Roman’s heart still jumped five feet, it’s not as if ‘lots of people’ steal antique maces. Hell, the young devil hadn’t even known his brother’s mace was in a museum! If he had, HE’D have been the one committing theft. Might’ve been a different antique mace? Might not have been “Harmsway”? Maybe?
Any information contact the police.
….
Or the museum, okay so that worked.
-
“He looked like you-”
Roman rolled his eyes “Are you blind? He probably had a shitty moustache and dyed thingy up here!”
“Blind?!” scoffed the man sat in front of him “well yes, I just had half of my fucking face smashed in with a mace, and I couldn’t really see him properly at the time so.”
“Oh, well!” Roman laughed “No need to get antsy, just sayin’. Anyway, he should look a bit like me, if he’s who I think, he’s my twin brother.” He became a lot more sombre now “except he can’t be- or really shouldn’t.”
“What do you mean?” Janus asked.
“My brother, Remus, died nearly three years ago now. I saw him fall from Mikaw Mountain- and that mace, Harmsway, too. I ran to the bottom of the mountain, but... Do you know how many creatures are around there? How many demons? I mean, I’m me and I struggled to make it out of there… I really- I just-” Roman took a deep breath “Look, Janus, if he’s alive then I have to see it with my own eyes. Coz It could be any random guy (who looks like me) in green leather breaking into a museum to steal my brother’s mace back!”
Janus nodded “Sure could…” he smiled “so how are you going to find him?”
“Oh now that!” Roman began “might take a while.”
-
It was like one of those optical illusions, at least when Logan had questioned what they were doing there: the cave looked like a door to hell (when you squinted slightly), and the door to hell looked like a cave (you didn’t have to squint for that).
Either way, as long as they were getting closer to the goal, that was what mattered. And if this goal involved trusting a devil- or half-devil, either one- then whatever.
“Can you see it?” the man in front of him wielding the mace asked.
“See what?” Logan replied.
Remus tutted “That’s your humanity, you, can’t see what’s standing right! In! Front! Of! You!” he hit the snowy cliffside on each pause, to the protests of Logan (who astonishingly didn’t want to cause an avalanche), and the rocks split- revealing a dark passageway. “See?” Remus began to cackle. “You think you can handle the devil world? Get ready for a funky old time, my friend!”
-
So how were Janus and Roman going to find them? Ultimately, through one very anxious ex-lab-partner. This being of Logan’s, of course.
Virgil Dagon had woken to find the lab eerily quiet. Usually he could at least hear the breathing of his work partner, but not at this moment. Right then, he went to put his food in the fridge, then- like clockwork- walked over to check on the micro-samples.
It was then he found the note.
--To Virgil: I did not feel quite right leaving without writing something, though my, shall we say, new partner encouraged against it. I have found an extraordinary opportunity, the likes of which this world cannot provide me, and so I am leaving it. There are studies to be sought elsewhere and I will seek them for I can. I wish you all the best; Logan. –
His heart leapt. Well, actually it summersaulted, but he wasn’t getting caught up on the details. Well, he was. Logan was not the kind of guy to just leave, or to ‘just do’ anything, and it really wasn’t an over-reaction to find this suspicious. Unless it was? No, Logan was the kind of guy who would skip out on meeting with friends to study, but not the kind to actively abandon those friends. Especially not…
‘This world???’
So began these new sleepless nights- sifting through his friend’s emails, notes, even the lab’s security footage (indoor and out). By the end, he had more than a few ideas.
-
A cave. Or, so Janus was told, the doorway to hell (if you squint). And it was two guys, from the same lab, in fairly close succession, both quitting their jobs to get plane tickets to Mikaw Mountain that tipped off one of Roman’s many informants.
“He’ll have a head start” Roman stared at the split in the cliff face momentarily “and quite a big one, so!” he grinned, then sprinted into the darkness, leaving Janus calling behind. It’s not like a half-blind man could keep up in a cave full of demons- he’d just have to die or run, either of which didn’t sound like a Roman problem.
In fact, without that curator guy, he was having a grand old time. It had been a while since Roman had done any serious hunting, any REAL fighting, and it was good to be back at it! Hacking at the sorts of bloody creatures he hadn’t fought since he’d last seen his brother…
Just simple, caped, skeleton-like things, many of them were- nothing too difficult- and nothing that him and his blade (Starcrossed) didn’t handle well enough. He was just propelling himself off of the cavern wall, slicing through the necks of several creatures as he leapt across, when he heard the scream. From up ahead.
So not the curator (probably).
And either way, he had already gotten started. Better finish.
-
“Is it done?” Remus whinged, almost childlike, whilst attempting to balance Harmsway on his finger.
Logan didn’t look at him, remaining focused on the device in his hands “Almost…” he tapped the screen “there.”
Remus snatched it off him, grinning, before instantly frowning again and giving it back. “What does, so, what does it mean, then?”
“It’s a map to the door.”
“But the cave is the door-” Remus started, before a figure behind interrupted.
“Not quite,” Janus pointed a cane at Remus “bitch.”
The two swivelled round immediately, with Logan looking at his new partner with confusion and that partner proceeding to break out into hysterics.
“You? You?” he cackled “I can hardly remember who the FUCK you’re supposed to BE, let alone why you would know shit about the doorway to hell!”
“Really?” Janus stepped closer “you, uh- robbed my museum and did this to me with a fucking mace you psychopath.” He gestured to the still-bandaged half of his visage, smiling with absolute hatred.
Logan coughed “I’m not sure you have a diagnosis of psychopathy-”
“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT, HE SMASHED HALF MY FUCKING FACE IN.” he glared directly at Logan now, shouting, a tear pricking his eye.
Remus tutted “Well, if you keep screaming at my friend, then I can do the other half- if you like?” he stepped forward, this time successfully balancing Harmsway on his finger.
Janus turned slowly and lifted his cane- the end turning into spike after pressed a seemingly invisible button. “Or we could match- ‘if you like?’” he taunted.
Janus made very precise, delicate moves, attempting to finely swipe or jab at Remus’ figure. The latter was extremely different. He leapt dramatically out of the way of every move, then would charge back with astonishing speed- mace overhead.
They kept on like this for a while, evading and attacking, leaping and swiping, until Remus stayed still. He just stood there as his opponent dived in. And then, of course, he grabbed the cane- flinging Janus round and into the cave wall, who then let out a sharp cry.
Remus drove into him, winding him further with Harmsway, then quickly snatched his cane-arm and held it above his head. “If you want MY mace in your pussy-ass museum,” he snarled “then you can take it where it belongs.”
“Thank you for the invitation but I think I’d rather, ooh, go to hell?” Roman stood, beaming, to their right.
“Hi again, Remus.”
---------------------------------------------
Yeah so I haven’t finished this and, due to college, probably won’t for all of October. Also I don’t think anyone will like it so uh yeah no one will want me to continue. I had TOO much fun though!!!
#egotober2020#egotober 2020#sanders sides#virgil sanders#remus sanders#Janus Sanders#roman sanders#logan sanders#u!remus#violence tw#violence description#devil may cry#dmc#writing#my writing
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
world & lore masterpost.
here’s a whole drop of lore, monsters, magic, humans & various other things in fenrirs main canon for those interested. mostly it just serves as a guide for me to orient on.
all art here was created on artbreeder and doesn’t belond to me because while i can generate i definitely can’t draw.
THE WORLD OF ROTWELSCH.
the world itself is split into four different continents; anvel, halmel, nimdal & mucuri.
whereas anvel and nimdal prosper, halmel has been ravaged by war and famine and mucuri struggles against a neverending influx of darkness & monsters terrorizing it’s people.
anvel lies on the northern parts of the world and is filled with plentiful rivers & seas, water plays a major key in the continent and it’s countries have unified to form the northern kingdoms. it’s people know all there is to possibly know about water and its inhabitants, they live with the sea and prefer to worship water-related gods. the northern kingdoms are more secluded from the rest of the world and prefer to live their lives privately. though certain countries within their unions are slowly starting to open trades with other nations across the world more and more.
nimdal lies southern of the world, its kingdoms have the most varying climates; countries like stanlow and aynor are plagued by heat and deserts but rare and sought after plants and animals that enables them to afford wells and water supplies. countries like claethor, tranmere or strathmore are rich of vegetation, filled with large forests and jungles alike, a plentiful fauna enriching their nations. northern countries like wolfden and glenarm are filled with snow; cold and ruthless but bringing mountains over mountains filled to the brim with minerals and precious materials and gems with them.
halmel lacks population and resources across the formerly glorious continent in total; a war between itself and a long since vanished fifth continent left it in ruins all across its formerly rich environments. its countries have long ceased to exist and halmel at this point is considered one big kingdom in itself. bandits have easy play here and terrorize poor village people. to top it off monsters from mucuri have slowly begun finding their ways over and have begun making the vast, empty lands of halmel their homes. halmels general climate is a foggy, almost ceaselessly rainy and gloomy one.
mucuri used to be the most prosperous continent amongst them all, as well as the centre of all of rotwelsch. though it is unsure of what happened all that is known is that once, a long time ago, a man who called himself the harbinger of the gods stepped foot onto mucurian land and eventually monsters began flooding from everywhere, creatures of such malevolence and hatred that ever since the world has only called the man, who revealed himself to be a cursed wolf, tortured by cruel humans and craving to bring forth the end of the world, demise. ever since the cities and nations have been living in fear, trying to live a somewhat normal life at daytime and locking themselves closed and in at nighttime, praying to whichever god will hear them that they survive another night of slaughter around them.
CREATURES OF ROTWELSCH.
HUMANS.
humans are the primary race of rotwelsch, though certain nations or even continents live peacefully amongst other people ( such as anvelians live peacefully with certain oceanic inhabitants ) whereas others live in fear of creatures not humanoid in nature. humans born under special circumstances may have an affinity for magic whereas others may have a special connection to nature. those born with special abilities oftentimes are shunned by their kin and live in villages or towns of their own amongst their kind.
TIEFSEA.
a humanoid race of fish originated creatures adapting to life further away from deepsea. having made a deal with humans tiefsea are usually found lurking near port towns and occasionally even found sitting in bars. they are capable of surviving short amounts of time without water ( when trained up to a week ) but will dry out over time. they take on differing forms inspired by several animals found in the oceans. their appearance usually resembles fish more than humans in skin and facial features, though their body structure usually is more human. imagine zoras from legend of zelda but a tad more monstrous.
THE BROKEN.
former mortals corrupted by darkness and turned into husks of their former self and forced into submission by demise. while groups of them will attack villages and towns singular ones will target homes on the outskirts to either kill or find more suitable subjects for demise. some of them retain a sense of self somewhere deep within and it is not a rare occurance to hear the desperate cry of a broken fighting against its own instincts and mind. their appearane usually is vaguely humanoid with their bones and skin growing and hardening into sort of an armor.
THE PLAGUES.
creatures of unknown origin, some more humanoid than others. there are vast differences within plagues, some are small and fast while others are hulking brutes with raw power. the only similarity is that they seem to be able to communicate with each other and that each time they get cut their limbs and wounds can regenerate. their blood is acidic in nature and can burn through human flesh like it is nothing; because of that they are more feared than the broken. it is not uncommon to find a giant plague accompanied by a smaller, fast plague which turns them into deadly duos you have to be on the lookout for at the same time.
THE PREDATORS.
predators are a deadly kind; humans who are still completely capable of thinking but have lost all will of their own, incapable of making decisions for themselves they have been turned into deadly assassins by the darkness and make formidable foes. while it is assumed that their appearance is largely unchanged they are covered from head to toe in what appears to be dark coloured robes made completely out of void mass and pure corruption. one touch from them can prove poisonous to most, should they choose a quick death for their victims. their ability to think makes most of them unpredictable and causes them to be the most feared out of all the races in rotwelsch.
THE CURSED.
the cursed are beings like fenrir who have been wounded by magic and whose animalistic nature was meant to be subdued in favor of a humanoid nature. their appearance is mostly human though part of their animal origins is retained; for fenrir it is his ears and tail, for certain others it could be their antlers or even fins. the cursed are rare, incredibly so to the point they are mostly considered legends. but a handful of them exist, and while not all of them possess demonic blood like fenrir they still possess more abilities than the average human, all granted by their origin nature. cursed will usually live in isolation, though very few select ones will live among humans as their own, disguising their animal traits with magic in order to fit in.
OTHERS.
there is a vast amount of races within rotwelsch that have yet to be known by the majority of the world; even the tiefsea have only recently created contact with humans and with the current abundance in magic there is no telling what other beings are out there.
MAGIC IN ROTWELSCH.
magic is highly frowned upon in rotwelsch; it is considered the origin of demise and the reason darkness has befallen the world. people born with magic abilities are often abandoned at birth or taught from an early age to suppress their nature. fearing the power it bears most of humanity has dedicated itself to eradicating all magic from their lives whereas others, more powerhungry, cruel beings have taken it upon themselves to seek out people with magical properties to turn them into a part of their armies.
with all different kinds of magic it is almost impossible to keep track of all of them, and yet the gods know. they give and take magical abilities as they see fit and design the powers as they wish. in certain areas in the world humans with magic and cursed live together in peace, both shunned by a world too fearful to see the beauty in their existence.
THE END OF THE WORLD.
from prophecies long foretold three children will bring the end of times upon the world;
one cursed from birth, meant to grow until it can swallow the sun from the sky and devor the king of kings before it releases eternal darkness upon the world.
one born from death, meant to command the forces of the dead to end the lives of all creatures wandering the earth.
one born from betrayal, whose rage will be the catalyst to the worlds end until it swallows everything that is left to destroy.
FENRIR THINGS FROM MY OLD PINNED POST.
fenrir is known in his world / his main verse. a fourty feet wolf that devours monsters big and small while keeping most humans relatively unharmed? yeah, that’s a pretty big conversation topic around the world he lives in, especially given he travels everywhere.
but it is not necessarily a good thing; even if he leaves humans unharmed he is a monstrosity; a beast. most people fear him and those who see the form he uses to walk among people for what it is in it’s entirety usually shun him.
fenrir doesn’t like interacting with people in any verse; he’s so used to being mistreated that he’d rather help silently and disappear without talking to anyone
he hates being thanked; he doesn’t think he deserves it and he generally dislikes the thought of people thinking that what he did to help them was anything but natural.
usually the only words he does speak to people are actually “don’t thank me.” before they even open their mouth
his voice is hoarse and rough because he barely talks. the most he can do without his throat burning is a short sentence, so never expect him to be very engaging in conversation.
because of that he’s made up his own little sign language --- most people don’t really get it unless they know him a bit better
there is a special guild trying to hunt him down because they know more about his curse than fenrir himself does
one of their “members” (he’s pretty much independent but relies on them for information) is a young man from the village fenrir saved when he lost his arm. he doesn’t necessarily want to kill fenrir but he does want to stop his curse from breaking free
he tries to befriend wildlife and smaller animals but they’re usually scared of him, except for one bird that follows him everywhere because he saved its life once.
it’s a robin!
he doesn’t keep food on his person other than some bread slices so he can feed his little bird companion
he thinks he’s not a good person --- nor even a person at all; it’s why he tries so hard to better himself, why he helps everyone.
he’s very harsh on himself, too
while his human form has a metallic prosthetic for his lost arm his wolf form actually has black matter to replace it; it’s more slimy in texture and practically radiates bad energy --- it comes from his curse
he’s ashamed of his ears and tails
he’s also ashamed of his scars
he gets flustered and embarrassed by even the most vague compliments
if you ever manage to break through his shell he’s very soft.
this is a wip and will be reworked over time to come !
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello! Can I request 36 and 46 from the prompt list? Please and thank you! Can’t wait to see what you do 💛💛💛
hi pal, thank you for sending this!! sorry it took me awhile to get to, but I hope you like this! <3
“Hey, what’s the hold up? We gotta go if we wanna catch the mov-“ You stopped at the sight into the room before you, Steve’s room.
It looked like a tornado ripped through, throwing belongings left and right, haphazardly landing wherever they pleased. The only normal part of the room was Steve’s bed, where you saw he was buried under an avalanche of blankets.
Plans immediately got shoved out the window, and you moved to the next priority: caring for your best friend and his well being.
“Steve?” You called out, voice softer now, and a muffled grunt trailed out from underneath the blankets. “You alright?”
The blankets shifted, but Steve still stayed hidden. You frowned, dropping your bag and kicking your shoes off before diving under the mountain of blankets strewn about. Eventually your hands hit against his side, and he groaned again.
“Hey, why aren’t you up yet?” You asked, shimmying closer to Steve, and gently reaching out, fingers brushing against his arm. He tilted his head towards you, finally opening his eyes, adjusting to the darkness under the blankets.
Steve shrugged, still laying on his stomach. “Just one of those days.”
There wasn’t a need for explanation, you knew what this meant, and when these days came, you stayed by Steve’s side and rode them out with him.
They were the bad days, the days where all the trauma from the last three years finally caught up to him, finally shook him enough to feel it deep in his bones. These days, he blamed himself for everything that went wrong. Everything he could’ve done differently, he mourned those choices and opportunities passed by.
“You wanna talk about it?” You asked, and he slightly shook his head ‘no’. You reached out to push the strands of hair falling in front of his eyes, gently threading your hands through his hair.
“That’s nice.” He grumbled into the pillow, and you could’ve sworn you saw a sliver of a smile peeking out.
“I’ll play with your hair if you talk to me.” You bargained, and Steve let out a exaggerated sigh, flinging the blankets up and off of your heads. You were silently thankful, it was getting stuffy under them.
“You ever think about what we could’ve done differently in the past?” He asked, weary eyes looking up at yours. Your hand reached back up, gently playing with his hair like you promised, as you propped yourself up on the other elbow.
“Almost always since you seem to ask this every week.” You replied. “Though, we can’t get hung up on the past. It won’t help us move forward.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, but sometimes I can’t help it. I fucked up.” He said, voice small, scared, though you’ve heard this all before.
“Who hasn’t?” You admitted. “Plus, not many people acknowledge that and try to right those wrongs. You do. You’re not like most people. You’re not a bad person.”
Steve sat up, rubbing his eyes, and shoved your hand away. “How aren’t you tired of telling me this?”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend.”
“More of a reason to believe in you, isn’t it?” You argued, and Steve huffed, crossing his arms. He was nearly childish when you tried proving him wrong on these days, and it’d be almost cute if it weren’t for the emotions attached.
“Sorry you feel obligated to help your awful best friend.” He mumbled, looking away. Usually, you always calmly tried to bring him back down from this self-loathing level he refused to come down from on his own. You got it, it’s hard to break away from when you’re depressed, but something in you snapped this time.
“Will you stop? Stop apologizing for everything! Stop apologizing for other people! You’re not the shitty one!” You didn’t mean for it to come out so loudly, yet your ears rang. Judging by Steve’s expression, mouth hung open, he wasn’t expecting that either.
Steve took a breath in, ready to defend his self hatred, when you spoke up faster, throwing him off again. “I want to help you, but you won’t let anyone help you when you refuse to even help yourself on these days. You deserve to feel as okay as you can, and I get these days are out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you have to suffer alone. What? Because you were a jerk a few years ago? That doesn’t mean shit now, especially not after how you’ve proven to yourself and others time and time again how good you truly are.”
Arms still crossed, you noticed the tears welling up in his eyes, matching the ones building in yours.
“I want to see what you see in me. I don’t want this to be a wasted effort. I want to believe what you say, but it’s just so hard.” He admitted, voice cracking, breaking your heart even further. Out of instinct, your hands reached for his, grabbing them, gently brushing your thumb across the backs of his hands.
“It’s not a wasted effort. You are not a wasted effort. You hear me?” You said, voice holding strong, filled with love, hoping it would come through with your message. Steve still avoided your gaze, so you reached your hands up to his face, gently holding his head in your hands.
“Please don’t say that about yourself. Please don’t believe that. You’re so much more than that. You’re so... so, so good. You have the kindest heart out of anyone I know in this town. You do so much and go so beyond out of your way for others first, more than you even realize. Even when your head’s in the clouds, you’re always looking out for others first. You might not know what you want for yourself, but you always want the best for your friends, and the kids, and god, they adore you, you know that? You are so good, Steve.” You couldn’t help rambling, getting caught up in your own emotions.
“Your eyes scrunch up tight when you laugh hard, and it’s so pure, and I swear you have a sixth sense, knowing when to switch stations on the radio when a better song is playing elsewhere.” You continued, and Steve grabbed onto your hands, still cradling his face, and you heard a soft, faint laugh float from his lips. “You still have the nicest hair any guy would ever dream of having, you’re always waiting until someone’s safe inside when you drop them off, you might not be able to save everyone, but you sure as hell have done a damn good job at protecting your friends.”
Steve laughed, following it with a sniffle, looking away again. “Sounds like someone’s just in love with me.”
You knew he was joking, trying to shy away from your kindness and the truth in your words, but your breath still hitched in your throat.
“... Maybe I am, but that’s not the point right now-“
“You are?” Steve asked, eyes darting back to yours. A smile began to curl along his lips.
“Shut it- listen- ugh! You made me lose my momentum on this whole best friend hype speech.” You groaned, wishing you could take back what you admitted to, but you couldn’t ignore the way Steve’s face was glowing as he grinned.
“Maybe I love you too.” He said, voice barely above a whisper. You grew extremely aware of how close the two of you were, aware he kept glancing at your lips, then back up at you, almost missing his question: “... Can I?”
Caught just in time, you barely nodded before Steve leaned in, his lips falling onto yours softly. Dazed in a dreamy state, you forced yourself to pull back, leaving him confused.
“I can’t fix the pain, and I can’t erase the trauma, but I can be here by your side.” You admitted, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I can be here by your side, every step of the way. Every good and bad day, just like it’s been. I just need you to know that.”
Steve nodded, leaning up to kiss your forehead. “Thank you for not giving up on me. I’m gonna try harder, for you.”
You tangled your hands through his hair again, gently twirling strands around your fingers. “Alright, but most importantly, you try for yourself.”
21 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
hobertc
mrH
harrcore
Visual Oscilation
kpop-rambles
K-Pop Talk
solest
all the little treasures
shakespearenews
Shakespeare News