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patchofsunlight · 4 years

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Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.”

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted.

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power.

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too.

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth.

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

#zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #zuko x f!reader #sokka x reader #atla x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender x reader #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar!reader #avatar reader #ember island #the ember island players #requested

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cerises-amoureuses · 3 years

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Firstly, what we need to realise is that Harry was incredibly attracted to Ginny throughout HBP, to the stage where seeing Ginny kiss another boy drove him up the wall. He spent a better part of the year wrestling with his emotions, which is something he didn’t go through with Cho Chang. Of course, this could be because Ginny, being Ron’s little sister, posed an interesting dilemma, but also because Harry’s feelings extended beyond a simple crush. The easiest way to deduct this is to go back to Harry’s infamous first kiss: he did not enjoy it, nor did he express any sort of desire to do it again. But in Ginny’s case, he had barely worked out his feelings for her when he started envisioning himself kissing her. Harry only ever thought Cho was nice-looking, but he experienced a very typical, boyish sort of lust and want when it came to Ginny.

“She began popping up in his dreams in ways that made his devoutly thankful Ron could not perform legilimency.” – Harry, HBP.

It does not take a genius to figure out exactly what he and Ginny were doing in Harry’s dreams. This inneuendo is remarkably suggestive; Harry had begun having sexual, inappropriate dreams about his best friend’s little sister that made him feel guilty and embarrassed. Moreover, note the instances when Ginny and Harry came in contact; they were often punctuated with Harry either feeling a “swooping sensation” or getting so tense that goosebumps erupted on the back of his neck. There is no evidence of Harry ever feeling jumpy by a girl’s slight touch before, which begs the question why it flustered him so physically in the first place. All evidences point to the thick sexual tension that Harry was feeling between himself and Ginny.

Simply put, Harry’s attraction to Ginny had permeated the boundaries of innocent crushes and gone straight to lustful thoughts and wild dreams.

“… He had received a lot more Bludger injuries during practice because he had not been keeping his eyes on the Snitch .. “ - Harry, HBP.

There is little room for argument for one trying to say that Harry was admiring Ginny in all innocence from a broomstick suspended in midair. This is another not-so subtle allusion to Harry’s burgeoning sexual attraction. Being a sixteen-year old boy, it is fairly plausible that Harry was being highly inappropriate, possibly undressing Ginny with his eyes, and he needed the force of a Bludger to snap him out of it. It is ridiculous to insinuate that Harry wasn’t looking a little intently than he ought to at Ginny; how else could he have ignored a Bludger speeding at him?

Quite apart from the fact that Harry described his impromptu mid-common room snog with Ginny in a remarkably heavenly fashion, he also explicitly went on to say that if they had time, they would talk about the Quidditch match. This does not specifically point to anything too scandalous, but it does make very clear that Harry intended on taking Ginny to a deserted area for more kissing. This seems a terribly bold step for two people who haven’t even started dating yet. It speaks a lot about their relationship that they started things off with a good, (presumably) lengthy snog, and jumped headlong into the opportunity to snog some more. It insinuates that the two were already very comfortable with each other, and already moving very fast in their relationship.

If that didn’t scream CLUE!!! enough, the next sure indicator was Harry’s feelings while they were dating. His narration was light, airy and genuinely happy – a dramatic change from the teenage angst that readers had been dealing with since GOF. It might be in my imagination, but I have always thought Harry in that period to be all kinds of insufferable, walking around with a goofy grin on his face and not paying much attention to anything – that lovestruck behaviour is largely hinted at in the books,after all. Hadn’t Professor Slughorn attributed Harry’s detoriating Potions grade to “lovesickness”? This obviously meant that Harry had been displaying visible symptoms of the same, which prompted that line of reasoning. What else could make the Boy-Who-Finally-Got-A-Girlfriend “happily impervious to gossip”?

On a particularly striking instance, Harry states that he was reliving a happy moment spent with Ginny in the grounds – if it was “happy” enough for Harry to dwell on it later, what could they have been doing, one wonders? (Cough, cough). Harry expressed explicit frustration that he could no longer spend time with Ginny, and there a very choice things that would, per say, “frustrate” a sixteen-year old boy.

Perhaps it isn’t overly obvious on skimming HBP, but if one analyses Harry’s narration, as I have, it becomes laughably clear that Harry and Ginny were almost definitely being adventurous. Ginny, for her part, is described as fiery and passionate – nothing in her character suggests restraint or holding back. A war, of which Harry was a main part, was going on in full-swing outside the cosy walls of the castle. It is additionally suggestive that JK Rowling also wrote in a specific conversation where it was revealed to Harry that people often elope during times of war. Ginny herself had commented playfully on it. If taking that step as such a young age wasn’t exactly responsible, the could hardly be blamed for it.

Another compelling argument is the fact that Harry, in particular, was, for want of a better word, especially well-equipped. For goodness’ sakes, the boy owned a legitimate Invisibilty Cloak, the Marauder’s Map and was an active user of the Room of Requirement. While Harry made use of these magical items for relatively noble and innocent purposes – in a non-Voldemort dangered world, what else would students want to make themselves invisible for? Ginny, in particular, doesn’t seem the type to ignore the dual potential of items like the map and Cloak.

Lastly, the dealbreaker was the stiflingly unbearable encounters between Harry and Ginny in DH. If there was slight sexual tension in the air between them in HBP, this was magnified about a hundred times in DH. Not many people choose to dwell on this, but I invite you think for a moment – imagine being boyfriend and girlfriend scarcely two months ago, and having a blissful, perfect relationship. Now, imagine being forced to live under the same roof – two teenagers – when they were so unwillingly forced to break up. They had barely spent a month dating, only to be brutally separated, and then made to live together again? Forget Crucio, there’s nothing more torturous than that.

Every time Harry made eye-contact her, he starts to recall moments spent with Ginny in secluded parts of the grounds, which is possibly the least subtle reference in the entire franchise. Again, he experiences acute, agonising frustration, to the point where he is actively trying not to brush against her while they eat dinner – it sounds almost as if he doesn’t trust himself. Another extremely suggestive moment is when Aunt Muriel makes a comment on the scandalous, revealing quality of Ginny’s bridesmaid dress, and the latter turns around and winks at Harry.

No explanation needed.

Need I dwell on Harry’s absolutely endearing jealousy while Ginny danced with other boys at the wedding? He, quite literally, leans against a pillar, folds his arms, (presumably with a glare on his face) and stares fixedly at Ginny.

One confusing instance, however, was Ginny’s – ahem – birthday present to Harry, in which he says, “And then she was kissing him like she had never kissed him before ...” This could somewhat serve as proof that they never progressed farther than snogging, but this greatly contradicts that aforementioned alusions to the same. It also seems a little naive to assume that they were exceedingly good little children while they disappeared for hours to secluded corners and fondly dwell on those instances to the point of distraction afterwards. No, it is my belief that it had been so long since Harry kissed her that he was automatically prone to over-exaggerating their sudden reprisal.

As I come to my conclusion, a few worthy mentions – Harry’s thoughts just before Voldemort struck him in the Forbidden Forest in DH: “And Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his –“ Alas, he never completed his train of thinking, but it does leave considerable food for thought.

Therefore, one can comfortably assume that in at least one area of his life, Harry acted like any normal boy his age. He had strong, passionate feelings for Ginny, and she unquestionably felt the same about him (“I never gave up on you. Not really. I always hoped …”), and those kind of things are recipes for teenage intimacy. However, anyone clinging to childhood beliefs can also safely predict that they waited. We may never know, but the evident has always been there, just as JK Rowling intended.

What are you thinking? 🤔

#hinny #Harry #Ginny #Harry potter #Ginny weasley

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maraleestuff · 5 years

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Merlin fic idea

I'm a bit late to this, but I have an idea for a fix-it fanfic that I'll probably never get around to writing

(This idea is aimed at Morgana x Gwen / Merlin x Arthur shippers, but I'll try not to make it too ship themed if I can help it. Disclaimer: I'm writing it as it comes to me, so we'll see what happens)

So imagine:

Arthur survives after Merlin's magic is revealed. (Like maybe he summoned Kilgarrah earlier...)

Mordred and Morgana survive and get a huge redemption arc. (I don't really remember what happened with Mordred, but I think Merlin and Morgana fight one last time after Arthur is injured?)

- Maybe Morgana is able to be reached. There's still a small, good part of her -- only a fraction of who she was years ago, after years of the hate and the fear -- but it's there all the same. Perhaps Merlin reaches Mordred too, to the boy he knew, and all he can do is apologize, which isn't worth much -- but Mordred reaches out to Morgana. Not for Merlin, but because of Morgana, the kind woman he knew all that time ago.

- Morgana has just overpowered Merlin when Mordred reaches her. Reaches that warmth inside all that cold; reminds her of the good, of the briefest glimpse of her childhood before becoming Uther's ward -- before the nightmares, the terrible visions, and her magic --

- It's a distant memory. Hardly tangible. She hesitates on the killing blow to Merlin -- Emrys, her doom -- only briefly.

- Yet long enough for Arthur to promise that he will lift the ban on magic.

- Morgana laughs. It's broken, twisted; she knows how close to death that Arthur is. The promise was empty and hollow.

- But somehow Merlin convinces her. Promises he will do anything if Morgana will help save Arthur's life, even if it meant giving up his magic forever. (They were both born of magic, two sides of the same coin, sure his magic could be connected to Arthur as well?)

- Progress is slow, getting Arthur to the threshold of the Old Religion. And despite the uneasy truce of the three sorcerers, it was really difficult to ignore the years of trying to kill each other. Merlin can't sleep, not with either near a nearly unconscious Arthur. Morgana almost slits Merlin's throat when a twig snaps, and Merlin nearly threw Mordred across a river when he stepped too close to Arthur.

- As it turned out, Arthur was able to be healed the same way that Merlin's magic was restored. It took all of the magic that the trio had, leaving them almost unconscious; Merlin was shocked to wake and find Morgana and Mordred gone, and incredibly relieved to find Arthur alive, breathing, and only slightly irritated at Merlin.

Arthur and Merlin return to Camelot, a bit bruised and definitely different. But there is distance between them, noticed by everyone who knew of Arthur's bumbling but earnest and kind servant. (Merlin, despite not being officially relieved of his duties, spends most of his time helping Gaius treat those injured in battle. Strangely, though, once the shock passes, Arthur starts the ground work to lift the ban on magic.)

- As expected, there is disbelief. King Arthur, son of the Uther Pendragon, was suggesting leniency on the practice of sorcery?

- It takes many long sessions of listening to the complaints of Uther's major supporters, the fear and disbelief, before Arthur makes any progress in assuring his people that he wasn't enchanted or being impersonated in any way, and his people were not in danger at the mere mention of magic.

But finally, when the time is right, it's official: magic is no longer outlawed in Camelot. And Merlin, the unassuming, clumsy servant who was always at Arthur's side, was officially the Court Sorcerer/ Wizard/ Warlock of Camelot.

- Naturally, there are many reactions. Disbelief, laughter, anger, some fear, which Arthur is mostly able to stave off after some close calls to some unruly assassins.

- But Merlin is consulted on all magical matters, from concerned citizens to curious children to even aspiring wizards. He helps Arthur figure out the difficulties that came with allowing magic: the loopholes, the limits, and making sure the people abide by it. (Another long process.) Merlin also meets with the Druids often, sometimes with Arthur himself, to assure their safety, sanctuary and assistance. He often takes their council in magical matters, as well as Kilgarrah's, and even learns from them about the history and practices of magic.

- George becomes Arthur's official manservant, but he doesn't complain when Merlin swoops in because it's highly amusing how the servant gets under Merlin's skin. (Plus Merlin is a better servant -- and better company, which Arthur would never admit.) It also makes Merlin more attentive without him realizing it.

In the next year after magic is allowed, no one hears much of anything about Morgana or Mordred. There's disappearances of known witchhunters, but otherwise it's as if they disappeared.

- Fate eventually throws Arthur, Merlin, and his knights together with Morgana and Mordred. It's many adventures and many months before they even begin to trust each other. Even then the people of Camelot refuse to trust Morgana, Merlin and Arthur feel about the same, and they come calling for her head.

- It's Gwen, of all people, who stops the execution before it begins. She not naive, though, and would rather not see Morgana again if she didn't have to. But she knew for certain one thing: there had been enough death. Morgana has to live with what she has done and who she has become.

- No one's quite sure what to do with her, but Gwen spends many sleepless nights listening to Arthur just breathe. Morgana played a part in healing him, she knew, but she also played a part in his near death -- both are incredibly hard to ignore. Not to mention the torment Morgana had put her through.

- Drawn to the dungeon, Gwen stands before Morgana's cell. She's not even tempted to free her, even knowing she could do so -- whether leaving Morgana a fugitive or in exile. But Gwen only stares at the woman she used to serve, turned over in her cell, her hair falling back over her partly ratted dress. There were cuffs around her wrists, not to restrain her; they were enchanted to block her magic. It was a touch that no one could really argue with.

- Gwen remembers who she was all those years ago. Morgana, bravely defying Uther, or encouraging Arthur to follow his instincts. Herself quiet, the daughter of a blacksmith. Oh, what the years had brought. How they'd changed so much.

- It was after many of these nights that Morgana finally broke the silence, her voice rough. She demanded to know what Gwen wanted. Despite the time working with Arthur and Merlin (and then disappearing), Gwen hadn't seen much of her. She'd felt ill during Morgana's appeal, but had glimpsed Morgana when the guards took her to the main hall.

- Gwen couldn't bring herself to speak. Not right away. There was too much to say, and she didn't even know if she wanted to try. But after time, she managed.

- Morgana told her that, after leaving Arthur and Merlin, she and Mordred took shelter near the edges of Camelot. She didn't bother killing Merlin or Arthur because she was barely awake when Mordred carried her away. They took shelter in a small, nameless village. Eventually they heard word that magic was allowed in Camelot, from a group of rogue Druids who refused to follow Arthur's rule -- they were afraid of the moment Arthur followed in his father's footsteps.

- They decided to stay with them. The group traveled around the kingdoms, hunting those who had hunted them. In the meantime, Morgana decided what she wanted -- whether she would try to get the throne from Arthur or not. In the end she had been captured while tracking a witchhunter -- one that Arthur and Merlin were trying to protect Camelot's people from. It was Percival who had insisted on bringing her in.

Gwen and Morgana slowly make their way into tentative friendship. It's more at the surface at first, and both refuse to let their guard down. But feelings surface in Gwen -- old and new -- which had been pushed down.

Arthur and Merlin also grow closer. It's inevitable with nearly rebuilding Camelot as they know it.

Everyone's in denial. Especially with obvious complications.

I'm not really sure where this ends with their relationships. But here's the ideas that I got:

A) Arthur and Merlin "leave" Camelot to live together in Ealdor. Merlin trains a promising apprentice to be the new Court Sorcerer, but is often bombarded for advice through letters or visitors. At the same time, Gwen (rule was turned over to her) and Morgana marry and rule over Camelot together. (I have no idea if it would happen or how, but everyone's gay and happy. Also Gwaine and Lancelot are alive.)

B) Sort of the same, but Arthur and Merlin rule over Camelot while Gwen and Morgana go to live with the Druid nomads.

Tl;dr: Everyone lives (ideally), and magic is no longer outlawed.

Note: I'm aware that realistically it would be a lot for anyone, especially Gwen, to trust Morgana again after all she's done. There would be a lot of trial and error, and as much as I love the ship, it couldn't just happen after canon.

As for Murther, they're both pretty much a package deal at this point. Although there would be a lot of Merlin explaining their adventures further, without Arthur at death's door, they'd be even closer through the thick of it. Whether or not they end up romantically involved.

There's a lot I probably didn't think of, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Feel free to add on if ya like!! :)

(Also I dont know how to spell Gwen's full name, or the Morgana x Gwen ship name. So.)

#murther #merlin #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #morgana #gwen #idk how to spell her full name #headcanon

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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years

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Congratulations, Meghan! You’ve been accepted to play Zoey Everett. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: This was such a hard decision to make because there were three other perfectly written auditions. I’m not even exaggerating, they were all perfect, spot on, flawless. In the end, I think you did such an amazing job at portraying Zoey. Everything felt so fluid in the samples, I could tell that you really connected with her. I can’t wait to see this character fleshed out even more! - Admin V

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Zoey Everett.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

No need to rewrite the biography - but who are they to you? What are their goals, ambitions, or flaws? Here’s your opportunity to show us who this character is to you.

I think Zoey is someone who is a complicated balance of strength, belief, and a sensitivity that borders on vulnerable. She had always been innately strong— however, shouldering the abuse meant for both her and her mother created something unbreakable inside her at a young age. She wouldn’t be cowed by intimidation. She wouldn’t retreat inside of herself when confronted. As a child, Zoey could do nothing to change her situation— but there wasn’t a single force in the world that could dictate how she should react.

Bruce’s hair-trigger temper was as fragile as tripwire, and Zoey learned quickly nothing would please him. It was better to retain every inch of her resolve instead of folding, better to keep a tight grip on her kindness in favor of becoming hard. These things couldn’t be beaten out of her— not even when she felt abandoned by her mother, or when the weight of hiding the abuse sat on Zoey’s chest like a weight.

Strength was a necessity, a survival tactic.

She was young, yes, still knobby-kneed and freckled, but she was firm in her sense of self— Zoey reacted to things on her own terms.

It would have been easier to harden herself, as a way of protection. Many children would have. But Zoey let herself remain sensitive to a full spectrum of emotions, let herself be moved by beautiful things, by new people, culture, something as simple as trying Italian ice for the first time, or something as grand as seeing La Pieta during a college trip.

Her warmth and sensitivity was not naive; instead it was incredibly purposeful. It was this strong sense of identity that helped her to endure. She wouldn’t lose herself to trauma.

Because of Zoey’s resolve, and her strength, as an adult she has an incredible capacity for sensitivity—allowing herself to be vulnerable in the most human of ways. Her job demands vulnerability. Reacting to art requires vulnerability, particularly abstract modern art, where so much of its meaning is dependent on what the viewer brings to the table.

You react to art; art reacts to you. It’s impossible for Zoey to harden herself to emotion and do her job well— she curates based on intuition, on what she anticipates others will feel from a particular piece. She can’t look at a Kandinsky with any less emotion than a Monet. Art, every medium it belongs to, moves Zoey with a profound intensity— the intention behind it, the history —and it’s in those emotions she feels closest to her father. To an alternate life she never had.

Six years old and gap-toothed, she would often park herself in front of her future inheritance; a collection of art so extensive it would make any collector green. But Zoey never saw it as the sum of its price tag.

The love she had for it was something innate.

Which is why I think her gallery is a representative of so much more for Zoey: a connection to the father she could never meet, concrete proof she had been able to escape her childhood. It’s symbolic. She could outgrow her past. Settle into her own interests and ambitions outside of her family, outside the trial that had consumed her life, the relationships that had been ruined by it.

The freedom in her life had always cost something.

Look what Bruce’s death had.

Which is why she has to move forward; Sonoma was the dream that propelled Zoey out of the pain of her childhood, and now it’s become everything to her.

Every cent of her money has been invested in this gallery. Partnering with the Costello’s may have been reckless, desperate, but she’s come too far to let give up now. The same strength that fuels her determination is the same thing that makes it impossible to let go.

She’s no idiot— she’s not unaware, either. Zoey is just someone who is determined to stand her ground, at the possibility of exposing herself to danger, to an uncertain future that risks bringing her face-to-face with things she once left behind.

Running away from fear isn’t in her blood, nor does she see it as an option.

WRITING SAMPLE

Provide as many IN CHARACTER samples as you like. At the very least, we expect three paragraphs written in third person. Aside from that, there are no rules. Please include anything you deem necessary.

The lock is clicked firmly on Zoey’s door. The line of her shoulders slacken. She can feel an ache in her upper arm; four red dots, the rough outline of fingers that will surely blossom into bruises the next day. She shrugs on a sweatshirt, unfolds the heavy book in her lap.

Her heart-rate slowly ticks down to normal.

The house is unnervingly silent now, and her eyes flicker down to the first open page, eager for distraction, and— oh.

Oh.

Of course it opens to this—Helen Frankenthaler. Jacob’s Ladder.

The art book had belonged to her father. Her real father, of course— not the monster that had done this to her arm — and the sight of his favorite painting makes Zoey’s eyes smart with tears, makes her throat tightens in a way it hasn’t in years.

Tears for the father she’d never gotten to meet.

They plop down onto the book with each deepening exhale, warping and wobbling the page beneath it.

This sadness for him feels fitting— but Zoey won’t give the other man her tears. She never had. She bore his anger with a set jaw, a firm determination that outstripped the usual maturity of a fifteen-year-old. He would never see her cry.

Not ever.

Letting her hand drift down the glossy pages seems to center Zoey’s mind. She clears her throat, quiet and purposeful, flips through the rest of the book with a growing calm.

There’s a peace that settles in around her, despite the situation.

She isn’t in this house anymore, with her stepfather fuming dangerously in the next room. Not entirely— Zoey is elsewhere. Standing next to saints and apostles on grassy hillsides, heads illuminated by gold leaf; lost in the reverence of the Middle Ages. She’s in a Friedrich next, peering over an imposing cliff. Southern France, Van Gogh, surrounded by yellow flowers.

It isn’t escapism as much as it’s inspiration. What had all these artists endured? What had the subjects of their paintings? Zoey sees herself reflected in these works, and there’s something fortifying about it, something that clears the mind and stokes determination. There was so much beauty, in the face of pain.

It’s only the buzz of her phone that pulls Zoey from her musings.

She reaches over with a reluctant hand, slow to answer until she sees the name flashing across the screen. Kai.

She smiles.

Patches of light in her life, patches of warmth— proof that it was not all bad, not simply storms and monsters.

She answers the phone without a trace of her leftover emotion. Kai can’t hear any lingering hurt her voice, not him; there are some thing she wants untouched by the pain at home.

Her step-father caused it, and her mother ignored it.

Zoey simply endured.

Somehow, eventually, it would be her that outlasted them all.

———-

Sunlight falls through the windows like tall patches of amber, and Zoey Everett steps into the building’s doorway, the ties of her green coat knotted loosely around her midsection.

It’s cold for this time of year.

The smile she gives the approaching man is almost sunny enough to compensate.

“Hi, Mr. Addams—we spoke on the phone earlier, I—”

“Yes. You’re Zoey?”

Crisp. Quick. To the point. She wonders why all of these artistic managers have to follow the same brusque script.

“That would be me.” A half-beat later. “I’m here about the possibility of curating few of your client’s pieces at Sonoma. Given how often the—”

“Yes.”

Another interruption, but not even to agree to her proposition; that much Zoey can tell. He’s simply cutting in to control the conversations run-time.

“I remember. You’re a representative for the own—”

This time its Zoey who cuts in with a firm, polite smile. Best to clear up any confusion now.

“I am the owner.”

There’s a weighted pause as the man considers this. It’s shock, mostly— there’s few, if any people who expect a gallery owner to look like her, and Zoey simple smiles in response, tries to re-direct the conversation as she glances at the art displayed inside the office building.

“We’re going to be exhibiting a few pieces from El Lissitzky soon…”

She walks idly along the row of oil paintings, allowing for a pause. He would’ve heard of this artist before. Zoey was proud of acquiring those, of the effort it took— Sonoma wasn’t some no-account gallery. It was smaller, and it was new. But it was going to be successful. She would give anything to ensure that it happened.

“Along with some contemporary pieces from a Chicago native. Really amazing stuff— similar use of geometric design, strong influence from 20th century typography…”

She has his attention now. There’s no script Zoey needs to follow for this—just the truth, the passion that bubbles up naturally.

“We want to be the future of Chicago’s art scene. And we’re going to be. There’s too many incredible artists in this city getting passed over for recognition because they fail to meet an incredibly specific criteria; because they’re not discovered by the same ten people who dictate where trends go.”

Zoey runs her thumb along the inside of her palm, smiles.

“Good art is good art, no matter who finds it.”

She thinks she can see a shade of agreement in the man’s eyes; his client had earned his recognition in ways that many in the art community deemed showy, too mainstream. But now he’s being lauded for it.

Mr. Addams makes a noise of vague approval. She takes it as a cue to drive this point forward.

“Your client’s work would fit perfectly with this season’s exhibit— particular his most recent pieces, the mixed-media? All that red? It would look incredible next to New Man.”

Something shifts on his face. There. That’s what she needs— even a glimmer of willingness to imagine with her. Just the smallest amount. Her voice grows warmer.

“It would be the perfect home for it. Along with all the other new pieces.”

“I want Sonoma to be a place to display some colleges student’s visual thesis alongside a Pollock. Old and new.”

“Pollock?” She can hear the skepticism in his voice, but it sounds friendlier now. Less brusque. “That would be near-impossible to acquire, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Zoey agrees, shouldering her bag with an easy smile. “But I’m going to.”

#accepted

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cherrygorilla · 5 years

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6 Year Anniversary and Coral’s Character Profile

Hi there! Sorry for not being very active on here, life’s just been very hectic at the moment adjusting to university life, but I promise that I’m still working on content, I just don’t have a great deal of free time, so it’s a slow process. But now that I’m more settled I should be able to get into a proper writing routine. Fingers crossed!

But anyway, the reason I’m making this post is because around six years ago I made my fanfic account and posted my first chapter of my first story and ever since then I’ve just fallen in love with writing more and more. I’ve loved being able to hone my craft and improve and evolve my characters as I’ve grown up. It’s so crazy to think that I’ve been doing this for so long and that I’m still hanging around! I didn’t have much time to prepare anything for this milestone and I wouldn’t have known what to do anyway, so I thought that now would be as good a time as any to post the character profile I’ve been working on for Coral since she was created, along with my account, all those years ago.

I got the questions for this OC character profile thing from my wonderful friend @foreveralwaysanauthor , who wrote similar profiles for her characters Makana and Xander, so be sure to check those out along with her stories! But here’s my profile for Caroline “Coral” Samantha Cole! I hope you like it!

Appearance: obviously, including any quirks, how do they carry themself, average clothing

Tanned complexion, freckles across nose and cheeks, blue eyes, cute dimples, curly golden hair, great curvy body, kind of on the short side, bright smile, most often carries herself with confidence, wears a lot of bright colours, shorts, playsuits and summer dresses but likes to take fashion risks and isn't afraid to draw some attention by wearing something out there

Preferences:

Sexuality: because of the time she lives in I don't think that she'd ever act on any feelings she didn't think would be accepted by others, because at the core of everything that's all she really ever wants, but if it really came down to it and she was able to explore her feelings freely I think she'd come to realise that she's bisexual

Favourite food: the banana bread pudding her mom makes

Favourite colour: aqua blue, or gold, if she was really going to indulge herself

Favourite animal: dogs, especially puppies

Favourite weather: sunny

Favourite season: summer

Favourite time of day: she's rarely up to see it, but she loves sunrise, when the stars start to disappear and the sun streaks the sky with all the pretty colours

Favourite music: she's open to anything as long as she can sing along, but she does love a show tune

Foods that they will/will not eat: she's really not picky so she'll try anything, unless it involves tuna

Religion: she wasn't brought up in a particularly religious family, they celebrate christmas, but in more of a commercial way, so she doesn't really have much of an opinion on religion

Political Beliefs: again, not super political, she just thinks everyone should be able to be treated equally

Hogwarts House: Slytherin, hands down.

Personality: calm, rude, oblivious, introspective, stubborn, etc

She was practically born a drama queen and her enthusiasm can be a little overbearing at times but she's got a big heart and is a total softie if you get to know her enough for her to trust you. She's fiercely loyal, almost to a fault, and pretty stubborn if she gets something set in her mind. Speaking of getting something set in her mind, she's super determined; if she has a goal and won't let anything stand in her way. She's no stranger to jealousy, although she'd never admit it, and has a wild temper if the wrong thing sets her off, but she feels every emotion so intensely that sometimes they just get the better of her, which can be both a great and terrible thing.

Family:

Who are their parents? Jacqueline and Brett Cole

What is their relationship with their parents? She's really close to her parents. Yes, she can get a little feisty sometimes and isn't a stranger to getting argumentative if she thinks something is unfair or if they're getting on her ass about something, but they raised her in a supportive, loving home and their guidance earned them her total respect. They're firm but fair when they need to be and she certainly keeps them on their toes, but they're always there if she needs them to be, whether it's to offer a shoulder to cry on, provide some much-needed advice or just to have a good laugh and cheer her up.

Do they have siblings? She has a twin brother, Thomas "Tanner" Cole

What is that relationship like? Being a twin is the only thing she's known, especially because she's the younger of the two twenty three minutes (something that Tanner likes to remind her of constantly), so she's had someone to goof around with from the second she left the womb. They may share a birthday down to the hour, but Tanner still like to exercise his big brother status from time to time, even though he knows deep down that Coral has enough fire in her belly to handle any threat far better than he could. They don't have a secret twin language and they don't have a telepathic twin connection, but they are incredibly close. They don't always see eye to eye on things, but they feel everything in a very similar way and they can read each other really well, so it's pretty difficult to keep secrets from one another. They were inseparable from birth, pulling faces to make each other laugh and taking their toys on grand expeditions along the beach from the minute they could walk and talk and as they grew older their bond, despite their differences, only grew stronger. As with all siblings, there were days when they annoyed the crap out of each other and couldn't stand to be in the same room unless they were pulling hair and yelling threats, but the anger never hung around for long. All it would take would be one joke or one dumb look and they'd be back to the being the best of friends. They're there for each other no matter what having someone around who understands you and what you're going through completely all the time is incredibly convenient.

Family Life:

What was it like for them growing up? She had a great childhood. A lot of her time was spent outside, either playing with her brother or her friends (often both together), and the rest was spent at dance and acting classes. She loved being a part of school plays and dance recitals and would practise in the living room every night after dinner. She loved the bedtime stories that her dad would read her and her brother every night and some of her fondest memories are of when she would play dress-up with her mom on Saturday mornings. Her parents always made time for her and Tanner and they certainly didn't go short of love, laughter or attention when they were kids. It was as idyllic as an all-American family could have hoped to have been really.

Are there things that affect them in their present state from their childhood? One memory that stands out, in particular, was when her mom and aunt took her to see a play at the local theatre. From the second that she saw the lady in the glittery dress parading around the stage, singing and dancing as the crowd whooped and hollered, she was hooked. She knew she wanted to be like her one day, up on that stage in front of an adoring crowd. And then they got their first television set, where she could see these actresses from the comfort of her own home and her life was changed yet again. She'd sit gazing at the people flickering on the screen for hours, even after her parents told her that it would rot her brain. She simply didn't care, she was too fascinated to look away. All she knew was that she wanted to be in that black and white box like them one day.

What was their discipline like as a child? Coral's always had a feisty side, even from a young age, so she's no stranger to trouble. But she's never been inherently bad and would never be malicious unless provoked, so a good telling off and a grounding was usually all it took to keep her in line.

Were they rich, poor or somewhere in between? Somewhere in between, if not slightly on the richer side. They didn't have heaps and heaps of money, but they lived pretty comfortably and their house was one of the nicest amongst her friends, which meant that it was usually the go-to house for hangouts (something Tanner and Coral loved).

Cultural History: does this affect the character, do they have cultural traditions that they follow

Not necessarily. Their grandmother is Hawaiian and they take yearly trips there to visit family and immerse themselves in the culture but not a great deal of that is incorporated into their everyday life. That doesn't mean that they don't love the traditions they do take part in when they're there though; the luaus are one of the best things they do all year.

Flaws: every character should have a flaw (maybe they are really caring, but it leads to them being too trusting and getting manipulated; maybe they are super smart, but they have a hard time connecting to people as a result; etc)

Coral has an almost obscene list of flaws, as most human beings do. She's stubborn and argumentative. She's feisty and brash and overbearing. She's a total drama queen, she's naive, she's vain, she's driven to a fault, she's overly emotional, she's flaky if uninterested, she falls in love too easily, she takes everything very personally (not ideal if she wants to be an actress) and she has a terrible temper. But I'm sure that there is more that I just can't think of at the moment. She's a bit of a hot mess, but she owns it.

Blank Spots: everyone has a bit of ‘basic knowledge’ that they somehow missed or misunderstood (it happens for everyone), what is the character’s ‘blank spot’

She thought that limes were just lemons that weren't ripe yet for longer than she'd care to admit.

Wants: what does the character want most, what do those around the character want for them

This is an easy answer that everyone around her knows the answer to. She wants to be a star. Well, she wants to be an actress, but ultimately all she really wants is stardom and she won't let anyone get in the way of that.

Needs: what does the character actually need (this can be different from the wants, and often should be for character growth; however, the character growth can happen even if the wants and needs are the same by having the course of events be contrary to the characters expectations)

She needs to get a strong head on her shoulders. She needs some guidance and maturity before being let loose in the world and she needs the right support behind her. But most of all, she needs love. She needs to feel loved and she needs to have a connection with someone where she can open her heart and embrace her vulnerability instead of hiding it away.

Fears: what is the character afraid of? both literally and existentially

Failure to achieve her dreams, disappointing her family, being alone, being ridiculed, spiders and clumps of hair in drains

How do they handle:

Disappointment - If she's disappointed in herself then she'll really beat herself up about it, but if someone else is disappointed in her then it'll absolutely crush her and she'll get super upset

Anger - Not very well at all; she's got a pretty bad temper and it rears its head more than it should. She's not afraid to fight for something she believes in and isn't one to back down from an argument easily. It also takes her a while to calm back down too.

Embarrassment - If she's acting she doesn't get embarrassed at all. But if it's just Coral and something embarrassing happens to her then it's crippling. She's so image-conscious and self-absorbed that if there's a possibility that something could taint that then she won't be able to let it go until she's fixed it.

Attraction - She's a total flirt and will happily play into any interest that is directed her way, but playing coy is as far as it goes with her; she's never been one to make the first move and feels much more comfortable using her alluring nature to attract attention rather than seeking out suitors herself.

Betrayal - Loyalty is a huge deal for Coral and she's very protective of those close to her. She places massive amounts of trust in her friends and they often reciprocate that, so betrayal is a massive issue for her and it's really difficult for her to cope with. She is quick to turn on someone and it's very hard for them to regain that trust if they've lost it.

Fight or flight - In most situations she's not afraid to fight, but if she feels really overwhelmed and out of her comfort zone then she switches to flight mode and bolts.

Money - Luckily, money was never an issue for her when she was growing up. But all the time she's spent flipping through magazines full of celebrities and the lavish lives they lead has left her with quite an expensive taste.

Lack of sleep - She just gets a little cranky and snappy. She's not much of a coffee drinker, but if it helps her get through the day or makes her seem a little more sophisticated then she'll stomach it to give herself a boost.

Alcohol - It makes her really giggly at first but then she loses all her inhibitions and moves into the frame of mind where she thinks everything is a good idea. Soon she hits a wall though and either crashes back to the reality of sobriety or spirals into a black-out, drunken mess. No matter what though, she's a tipsy disaster when she drinks.

Injustice - She's not afraid to stand up for what she thinks is right and will fight for justice if she truly believes that something is unfair, no matter what anyone else says. She'll always trust her gut instinct.

Mental illness - It's not something that she's had to deal with at this point in her life, but as she struggles with issues later on in her life I think it will be difficult for her to cope with due to how much she allows her emotions to impact her.

Grief - Again, she's a super emotional person and allows her feelings to deeply affect her, so grief is really overwhelming. She doesn't shut herself away, but sometimes the pain becomes so great that she can't comprehend or articulate what she's feeling anymore, to herself or to others.

Exercise - She's never been super sporty in the traditional sense, but she's been dancing since she was three and has taken up cheerleading in high school, not to mention all the surfing she does in her free time.

Defining moment: is the character’s defining moment going to happen to them during the story or has it already happened (characters can have more than one defining moment)

Coral hasn't had a defining moment yet in the story, but there is one pretty major one coming up within the next few chapters, which impacts the lives of many of the characters, so keep your eyes peeled for that. She'll have quite a few distinct, defining moments in the story though that all shift her life onto different paths. So things are about to take a turn for her!

How do/would they feel about:

Glitter - Loves it! Duh!

Ferris Wheels - They're pretty fun, especially at the top when you can look out and see for miles around.

Camping - She does like being outdoors, but sleeping on the ground with bugs and no satin pillowcase is not really her jam.

Coffee - Thinks it tastes gross but makes you look sophisticated, so she'll make the sacrifice if she's feeling particularly tired.

Crispy or floppy bacon - crispy; floppy bacon weirds her out

Mushrooms - pretty indifferent, she doesn't hate them but she doesn't love them either

Twilight books/movies - A teen movie about vampires? Not really her sort of thing...unless she could be in it.

Guns - She's pretty against them all; she just doesn't understand why anyone would feel the need to possess such a dangerous weapon. But we'll see how that opinion holds up as the story progresses...

Extras:

Do they have a signature smile? - Of course, she's been practising her smile for the paparazzi for years!

Do they have a tell when they lie? - Nope, she's an actress and is a master when it comes to lying convincingly; if she has to convince a whole audience that she's a totally different person then she should surely be able to keep up a little lie.

Do they have any nervous tics? - She gnaws on the inside skin of her lip.

Do they speak loudly, softly or average volume? - A little on the loud side; she wants to be heard, she loves the attention.

What is their quality of voice? - She's got a bright, clear voice when speaking but if she opens it to sing then the real power is unleashed.

Do they gesture when they talk? - All the time, she's super expressive when she talks and is always using her hands to exaggerate things.

Do they have a good understanding of personal space? - Most of the time, but if you're one of her best friends then she's much more likely to invade it.

How do they greet other people? - Usually with a 'hey' or a 'hi' and one of her megawatt smiles

How do they say goodbye? - Probably just by saying 'bye' or 'see ya' or maybe just waving, unless she's pissed at you, in which case you'd be lucky if she even looked at you, same goes for greeting people

Is there anything that they always have with them/on them? - She always has a hair tie and tons of perfume on. You can always count on her to have mints too.

Do they remember faces or names better? - Faces, she's hopeless with names unless they're important to her.

What does the character admire most in others? - Loyalty, ambition and kindness

Pet peeves - Loud chewers, people standing too close in lines and people who don't cover their mouth when they cough or sneeze

What grosses them out? - Not washing your hands after using the bathroom and when her boy friends scratch their balls and shove their hands in each others faces.

#sorry it's so long #you know I get carried away with these things though

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ofaphrvdite · 5 years

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silence ! raise the royal standard, for the duke of huéscar, ISANDRO DE TRASTÀMARA, has arrived. being 26 years old, he is sixth in line to the throne. many around the court call him the icarian, by virtue of him being suave and dynamic, while also being covetous and egotistical. — played by sean teale.

- THE BASICS.

full name: isandro alonso de trastàmara name meaning: isandro ‘liberator’, alonso ‘noble and ready’ known in history as: the usurper king, the king who avenged aurelia: the little rose, light of the east date of birth: june 3rd, 1992/1639 age: twenty six star sign: gemini profession: junior investment banker (modern verse) / duke of huéscar, heir apparent to the dukedom of alba, grandee of spain (royal verse) loyalty: spain, house trastàmara, the entente, eventually france and house du bourbon through marriage alignment: chaotic neutral mbti: esfj spoken languages: english, spanish, advanced french, advanced mandarin, intermediate german (modern verse) / spanish, english, advanced french, advanced portuguese, advanced latin, intermediate german, basic italian (royal verse) mother’s name: eleanor de trastàmara nee. mendoza (deceased in both verses), fifty two. father’s name: alonso de trastàmara, sixty siblings, if any: half brother, pedro moctezuma, thirty. half sister, elena de trastàmara, twenty-nine. height: 6’1” hair colour: black eye colour: brown

- BACKSTORY / MODERN VERSE.

there was little hope for isandro trastàmara developing any sense of ambition, as from his infancy he was taught nothing but how powerful his family was. ever since he was a baby, he had been raised by a hoard of the world’s best nannies - his own mother barely getting a look in. coming from a long line of incredibly successful bankers, and spanish nobility as his father loved to boast of, he was always provided with the very best that money could buy. he had everything he could ever want, resulting in a spoiled child who would grow into an entitled young man. and yet at every turn he was denied the only thing he craved - love. his father was always off on business trips, or with his latest flavour of the week, and his siblings were children all from different women, leaving the youngest of the brood alone in a home too large for a boy. in the turbulence of his childhood, there had been one sole grounding force, and that had been his mother. a woman who selflessly tried to devote as much time to her son as she possible could whilst her marriage self-destructed on the inside. there was no love between alonso and eleanor, only convenience. alonso had something pretty for his arm to make his ex wife seethe, and eleanor was able to stay in the country with her son.

it was aged ten when isandro’s only chance of forming any real familial bonds disappeared. and thus any hope that he might be saved from the trappings of his father’s legacy. on a bright sunny afternoon both mother and son were on their way back from izzy’s rugby practice and stopped for ice cream as they did every sunday. had he not insisted on handing the money to the ice cream man himself, perhaps his mother would not have chased the change he had dropped with clumsy hands into the street. maybe then she could have avoided the motorcycle that had swerved round the corner and sent his mother flying into the nearest windscreen. the memories of that day are buried deep, trauma locked away, but isandro can still remembers the screams of horrified onlookers, the screeching sound as the motorcyclist had sped away and the feeling of panic like a vice around his heart. he remembers the funeral though. how so few of her family had been able to attend, and most there had been men in suits from his father’s work that had barely known her more than her feigned smile. men who had patted him on the back and offered empty condolences to a child in a suit too big for him that only wanted a moment alone with his mother to say goodbye.

following his mothers death, isandro’s father sent him away to boarding school to keep him out from underneath his feet - adding to isandro’s already growing belief that it was his fate to be abandoned. within a few short years he moved on to eton after a hefty donation from alonso to study alongside the country’s future leaders. each year he would return home less and less, and the older he got, the more debauched his behavior grew. summers were spent abroad skiing in the alps, private yachts in cannes and villas in santorini. his exploits made front page news in the tabloids at home due to his high profile inner circle. among his friends were distant claimants to the british throne, sons of politicians, daughters of millionaires - all children who knew the numbness of an abandoned childhood that had been thrown together because they shared the same postcode.

oxford did little to settle his restless spirit despite all the threats from his father that he would be cut off. he had laughed in the man’s face. how could he ask for his lifestyle to be put aside, when it had been alonso who had flaunted the perks of it in his face for his entire life? his father had been no model citizen, certainly not a good husband nor parent, isandro could do nothing but mimic all he had ever known. throughout school he had always been told that he could do so much better - if only he applied himself. what was the point, he had asked, in trying when everything would always be handed to him anyway? complacency was the death of ambition afterall, and isandro was in no rush to leave behind the tornado that was his life. he would only be proven right when his acceptance letter for oxford had come in the post despite possessing none of the grades he needed. nepotism and a healthy donation to the great oxford library was all he’d really needed.

after graduation he had wandered europe for a year, as was the rite of passage for every child of the british upper class seeking to patronise all those lesser than them when they returned with tales of natives who lived such utterly simple lives. how else would they boast of how good a person they were if they hadn’t helped paint a school somewhere and then posted it all over the gram? he had put off his return for as long as possible, knowing a desk had already been reserved for him for the next forty years of his life. something he wasn’t eager to begin.

eventually his fathers patience could be pushed no further and he had begrudgingly returned to the uk and his new ( and so very exciting ) position as a junior investment banker in his father’s branch where he has remained ever since. the man is still as restless as ever, out every weekend and blowing his salary on ridiculous purchases. he hardly ever speaks to his family unless he utterly has to, most of their interactions now taking place at events that require a strong family presence. they all want their share of inheritance when dear old dad dies afterall. the only difference now is that he’s beginning to realise how meaningless his life really is, getting to an age where he’s beginning to wonder if he’s really just wasting the time he’s been given. ever since he was a child he’s only ever wanted to feel wanted, and that is perhaps the only thing in the world he can’t have.

- BACKSTORY / ROYAL VERSE.

it speaks volumes to his character that isandro de trastàmara was born third and youngest to his father, and yet it was he who would inherit the grandest title in spain below actual royalty. he had done little to earn the privileges in his life, and would grow to be a selfish and egocentric man - so expectant for good things as he had been bestowed them with no effort since birth. his eldest brother was born a bastard to his father’s mistress, and although he favoured pedro ( always so clever, so sensible, so very boring ), he was a brother to the crown. a prince in his own right. he would not deface the family name by legitimising him, and setting a dangerous precedent for someone so close to the throne. his first wife only bore him disappointment with a daughter and died in childbirth - leaving him still without a legitimate heir and now wifeless.

in his years abroad he met a young woman from a minor venezuelan noble family, awarded titles by the crown for their loyalties. she had been young and naive when brought to court for the king’s blessing, something he had begrudgingly granted, but soon discovered she was unwanted by spain. she was not of their country, not one of them, and yet it was the son she birthed that would seize so much power, who would be a cousin to the future rulers of spain. her life was a miserable one, none of the other highborn ladies would dare invite her into their society, leaving her lonely and isolated from her family. it was her son isandro who became her guiding light.

eleanor did her best to instill kindness and a decent moral compass in her son, knowing her husband would be attempting to warp him as best he could to bend to his will as she had. perhaps she may have succeeded and the future duke of alba would have been ruled by a good heart rather than bitterness and ruthless ambition. alas it was not meant to be, and her departure would serve only to darken him for many years before she was to be his guide in return.

isandro was only four years old when his mother was found murdered in the streets. her guards had abandoned her in favour of their lives and a small mob had claimed her life. though there were whispers it had been organised by someone higher up to look like an accident. he had been too young to understand why then, but the older he grew the more the need for vengeance had taken root in his heart. the king, his uncle, had done little to seek justice for his mother. and his father had not sought for it either. it had been an inconvenience at best but she was of no great loss to them when all was said and done.

and so isandro had grown up surrounded by nannies and tutors, no family to care for him. his elder brother too envious of missing out on a title he felt he deserved more, and his sister ambivalent towards her half brother, too caught up in the problems of her own life. his resentment grew against his cousins and the crown, festering over the years into something impossible to contain. when his cousin had succeeded the throne and began her reign of terror he had been more intent than ever that this must end. they had shared the same goal, and wished for spain to be as glorious as it always had been - but there was vast difference in their methods. he watched as his cousin’s bride charlotte was treated as a hostage for the entirety of her marriage, and then her pregnancy. as underhand deals left the foundations of greece unstable. murdering loved ones just to shake other rulers. and all under the guise of peace negotiations. so many innocent trampled that even he found no satisfaction in it, no matter how much it furthered spain’s plans.

he was by far not a good man. he had lied and cheated, feigned injury to escape from a war whilst men died for their country. had left a string of broken hearts behind him, leading women on before leaving them ruined. his behaviour was nothing short of selfish and reckless, and his father greatly disapproved. how could he trust his title to a son he didn’t believe had the responsibility to possess it? but alonso had always known how to bend others to his will, and isandro was no difference. threatening to cut his son off, he promised he would not see an ounce of his inheritance until he married a respectable bride. he had hoped this might settle the restless soul brewing in his son, and distract him from ideas of revenge he knew lay in wait.

unfortunately for alonso ( a blessing to isandro ) he won the hand of princess marguerite of france. a grand match to be sure, but two kindred spirits when it came to settling down. their’s was a betrothal of convenience for them both. isandro had no issues spoiling her as she deserved to be, and in turn he would get his inheritance. if anything, she fed into his ambition to take the crown from his cousins, to make spain what he thought it should be, and to give his future wife the throne she deserved. he had no wish to tame her, he much preferred a challenge, a partner that would push him. and she took no issue with his grey morality and less than sparkling record.

he is not at versailles to help bring about peace for europe. he doesn’t care if the continent tears itself in two, for he knows that spain will withstand it all. though he plays the part of dutiful noble, he is eager to secure support for his rapidly increasing coup. though he pretends it’s for selfish means, for revenge for his mother, there is an element of redemption to his cause. for so long he had sat idly by while innocents suffered at the hand of his queen, his family, and it had blackened his heart. perhaps he is not smart enough to wear the crown, and his morality is too confused to ever be a just ruler - but he is confident enough that his rule would be a kinder one than the tyranny currently subjected to them.

#! * INTRODUCTION / isandro.#! * INTRODUCTIONS.#izzy's intro is the equivalent of a spiderman origin story #in that #izzy's mum is the uncle ben that i must kill every single time

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 5 years

Text

Ringo, Revenge, and Rebellion

Demon!Bucky Barnes X Reader Steve Rogers X Reader “Oh Stevie, did you really forget about our little deal?” Who was talking?! How did they know my name?

a/n:mentions of death, violence

The room was dark, encompassing anyone who stepped inside would assume they had succumbed to their death. If only that were true for the man that stepped inside slowly, taking in as much as his eyes could. Moans echoed softly, whoever else was here with him was in pain, begging for help. Though, there was only so much he could physically see, the room smelled musty almost.

Had someone kidnapped him? Taken him to a place where they’d never be able to find him as his body began to decay slowly. “Hello?” Steve stepped through the large oak doors, groaning as he struggled to wrench them open.

He was only able to slip through the door before it slammed harshly behind him, sealing him in the very room he’d felt terrified to enter. It was obvious that someone else was in the room, the room seemed almost brighter than where he just was.

“Excuse me? Where are we?” Footsteps echoed inside the room as Steve stepped closer.

The man turned slowly, lips curled into a smirk. His eyes were coal black, the suit he wore clung to every inch of his skin. A body that rivaled that of the most handsome man in the entire world. It was the one thing Steve had always wanted. To be someone so beautiful that women threw themselves at his feet. Jesus, how the hell had he managed to get himself locked in a room with someone who looked like that?

“You must be Steven Rogers, I’ve been expecting you.” The gentleman stepped forward once, twice.

“No one calls me Steven, only Steve.” He squared his shoulders, ready to fight for whatever remained of his life.

Soft chuckles flitted through the air, taunting Steve in a way that nearly made him feel sick to his stomach. What the hell kind of pleasure was he getting out of all of this?

“You’re here for something, something that only I can give you.” There were only a few feet between the two men, if Steve could even call him that.

“The ritual worked?” His voice was breathy, almost too soft.

“Of course it did. Now, what can I do for you?” His lips pulled up into a spine chilling grin.

Steve had barely uttered the words, strength of ten men, beauty beyond his wildest dreams, anything this world could ever offer him. The air seemed to thicken, a black smoke swirling around them as the man’s hands reached gently towards him.

This was what true fear felt like, not getting beat up by someone twice his size. No. It was staring death in the face and not being able to run away. No one would hear his cries of pain as his body was torn limb from limb. Fear racing through his veins as he cried out for his mother, the only woman who truly ever loved him. He wasn’t going to be the same man he once was, only he wouldn’t know until it was too late. Steve’s P.O.V Life wasn’t the same after I’d basically sold my soul to the devil, though he granted me the one wish I’d always wanted, it wasn’t what I wanted. Watching the people I loved and cared about grow old, unable to live life alongside them for very long. They would find their one true love, make a family of their own. I’d never be able to have that, to live a truly happy life. “It feels wrong Peg, I’ve fought in three wars so far and nothing” No matter how hard I tried to end my life, nothing worked.

Those were some of my darkest times.

“Steve, I want you to look at me. You’re meant for more, you just have to sit down and think about what that might be. Don’t worry about me anymore.” She placed her hand overtop one of my own, a soft smile gracing her face. The wounds always healed over, never leaving any scars to help remind me of the mistake I had made when I was young and naive. My mother had grown old, barely reaching fifty before passing away silently in the hospital. The doctors never believed I was her son, always threatening to shoo me away. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for the last seventy years for nothing” I’d never be able to get married, have children, grow old with someone one day. I’d watch them grow old, bury them in the same cemetery my mother was buried in.

Sold my soul for a body that never aged, healed miraculously, one that women and men were fawning over daily. I had hidden myself away after every war, unwilling to let people see the man I was anymore. Why had I been so reckless? “Is that why you took up acting? Because it made living your life a little easier?” Her words were harsh, but it was the truth. The Devil had turned me into someone immortal, of course i had been given my one true desire, but to watch it all turn to the hellscape that it had. I wanted nothing more than to find the very man who had cursed me, to take back my soul. How would i do that though? I had signed a blood contract, effectively sealing my fate for all of eternity. “I needed a way to get through the pain, something to change fate.” She rolled her eyes, more annoyed with my attitude.

“You’ll be fine, now go and live your life Steve.” She squeezed my hand once more, fingers loosening after a few moments. ~~~ Movies were a way of an escape for me, to express myself without making it obvious to the world that I was constantly unsure of my own life. It was a way to live through a lie, and god, it felt so damn good.

“I thought the scene was phenomenal” My co-star Sebastian glanced over for a second, watching the small screen as the director rewatched the scene. “You’re only saying that ‘cause you got to kiss him” Our female co-star Wanda smirked, arms crossed over her chest. “Anyone would kill to kiss him, I just happen to be playing a gay man that’s in love with him, so suck it up” Sebastian stuck his chin in the air, laughing as Wanda rolled her eyes. He reminded me so much of a friend that i had lost, it was uncanny how similar they looked. Almost as if they were truly the same person, only born in completely different time periods. What I wouldn’t give to be back there, in a time that I was more suited for, with the family I’d known and loved. “If I remember correctly my character is the one he’s marrying” Wanda and Sebastian loved to tease one another, it was adorable. “Now now children, no fighting” I put a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, raising a brow at Wanda. Wanda giggled softly, shaking her head at our antics. We were all children deep down inside, and it was fun to let loose. That is, until the directors giving us the ‘you guys better get to work on your next scene’ type of look. Those were my least favorite, while Joe could be really great to work with, he could also be a real pain in my ass. “Where do you want us?” I looked over at Paul, our producer, who looked utterly terrified. The scene was going to be one of the most difficult to film. “I need you standing by the chair, and I need Sebastian standing by the opposite wall. Now don’t forget, he just admitted his feelings for you” I nodded, shaking my arms to help get out the nerves. Joe sat back down behind the camera, checking the angle to make sure we looked appropriate. Sebastian was incredible, able to adapt to any role that he was placed in. It was as if he wasn’t even acting at some points, just being himself. “Action!” Joe’s voice normally startled us, but you get used to something like that after a while. Seb took a slow deliberate breath, eyes locking onto my own as he stepped closer to where I was standing. His hands raised as if he was going to touch me before stopping altogether, eyes pleading with a silent question. I frowned, pressing my palm against his chest.

“James, I’m sorry.” Sebastian’s gaze was tight, lips a thin line as he ground his teeth together.

“You told me that you loved me, was that all a lie to you?” Voice weak, tears threatening to spill.

I shook my head slowly, unsure of how to keep my own emotions in check. This wasn’t personal to me, this was a character.

“You know we could never be together, James, I’m marrying Jessica.” Seb pushed away from me roughly, hands clenched into tight fists by his side.

“You know you guys aren’t right together, anyone with eyes can see it! So, why are you doing this?” I sighed, sliding my hands into the pockets of my jeans.

“Because I love her James, I’m sorry.” I pushed off the arm of the couch, stepping over to the door.

I had a hand on the knob, waiting for Seb’s next line, it felt so natural to be able to fight with such an emotional connection.

“If you walk out that door, I never want to see you again.” I glanced over my shoulder, watching as the tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I guess this is goodbye.” I turned the knob, opening the door as I stepped out into the hallway. The door shut with a soft click, echoing in the deafening silence as the scene finally came to a close.

“Cut! Holy shit you two, that was incredible!” Joe jumped off his chair, running over to hug Seb who was laughing.

“I figured we’d need to make the scene a little more emotional, I did just confess my feelings.” I couldn’t help the snort that slipped through, opening the door as I stepped back into the room. Wanda was dabbing at the tears on her cheeks, shaking her head as if the scene had caused her actual trauma. Man, if it was this bad for everyone involved, I could only imagine how audiences would react to it. “I can’t even believe either of you, god, it was like you two were actually breaking up.” Wanda stepped over, wrapping her arms around my waist in a gentle hug.

“I just did what felt right, and of course went with the script as well.” Seb chuckled, ruffling her hair gently.

Wanda whined softly, tightening her arms as if I’d be able to protect her. He knew not to mess with it too much, not unless he wanted the hairdresser on his ass.

“Alright, so we gotta get Wanda ready for the next scene. Seb’s about to drop the bomb that they’ve been sleeping together.” She looked almost nervous, as if the last scene took too much out of her.

“I guess that’s my cue to go and get changed, I’ll see you boys soon.” Wanda headed off with one of the assistants.

Joe told us to head off and grab something to drink before Sebastian was needed for the next scene. It was going to be the harshest one yet, the climactic scene of the movie that would leave people either screaming at the characters, or crying.

“I’m kind of nervous, I’ve been doing stuff like this for years, but with Wanda she’s like a sister to me, and now I have to break her heart.” I couldn’t stop my own chuckle, stepping over to grab a bottle of water.

“Technically, I’m the one truly breaking her heart by cheating, but I see where you’re coming from.” Seb shrugged, shoulders barely lifting before he reached for an apple.

The silence that settled wasn’t bothersome, it was easier to let the world pass us by for a few moments than to constantly worry. Especially when it came to filming, nothing worse than being too wrapped up in your own head.

“Alright, Wanda’s ready to go.” Joe called us over, getting Sebastian and Wanda in their places for how the scene was going to play out.

Sebastian stood in front of the door that lead to where Wanda and I were staying together, the house seemed too gaudy for my own personal taste. Reaching up with a nervous hand, he knocked twice.

“James? What’re you doing here?” Wanda was cradling her arm, keeping the illusion of a fractured wrist very much real. “I need to speak with you, please.” He looked around nervously, as if expecting me to show up.

“Umm, come in.” She stepped back, letting him come inside.

Joe smiled proudly, sitting back in his chair as they changed the set up to be inside the house, the living room. The makeup artist came over to fix up some of Wanda’s powder, while checking on Seb as well. Once they were all set and ready, Joe sat back down in his chair, watching the screen closely.

“Not that it’s not nice to see you, but what’s with the surprise visit?” Wanda turned to face him, holding a mug of tea in her free hand. “Chris and I have been sleeping together, for the last couple of years, and I’m sorry I had to be the one to tell you.” Seb let out a breath, glancing over at Wanda nervously.

“Do you honestly think I’m that stupid?” She set down the mug slowly, grimacing as ‘pain’ shot up through her arm.

“What?” Sebastian looked taken aback, shocked almost.

She smiled softly to herself, laughed loud enough for him to be able to hear.

“You’ve always been jealous of what I’ve had, and now you’re here to ruin my relationship with Chris. Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?” Tears began to well up in her eyes, dripping down slowly.

“I love him, James, he’s the man I’m going to marry in a few weeks, and no lies you try to slander his name with are going to change that. Get out of my house.” Wanda straightened her back, eyes narrowed as she stared at him.

Sebastian opened his mouth, waiting to speak until he thought better of it and left, slamming the door harshly on his way out.

The room became deafeningly silent, not even the sound of a pin dropping would be heard with how the silence encompassed everyone.

“Cut!” Joe jumped from his chair, laughing happily as he ran over to hug Wanda.

I wasn’t sure if he was hugging her because he was stunned by her performance, or if he was worried she had worked herself up too much.

“Wow, that was beyond words.” I ran a hand over my face, laughing softly.

Wanda stepped over to where I was, patting my cheek gently.

“All in a day's work.” She winked, laughing softly as Seb walked back inside.

I turned to ask Seb how he was feeling after the scene had ended, only to notice that everything had gone dark. What the hell was going on? “Oh Stevie, did you really forget about our little deal?” Who was talking?! How did they know my name? The room became encompassed in darkness, the same smoke billowing around me as the figure stepped forward. There was a woman a few feet behind him, arms crossed over her chest as she snarled at me. Wait a second, that’s Y/N, I’d recognize her face anywhere! Why was she here though, and who the hell was standing with her? “Bucky?” My throat tightened, the man in front of me looked like Bucky, but there was something so wrong about him. “It’s me.” He smirked, eyes turning black as Y/N stepped up behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “But they said you died in the war, we buried your body, that’s not something I’d forget easily.” My heart was beating out of my chest, this was all a horrible dream, I’d wake up soon enough. Y/N stepped over to where I was, tracing the tips of her fingers down my cheek. She looked as if she hadn’t aged a day, still the young woman I had fallen in love with after Bucky had passed away. Or so I’d thought. “You made a blood pact, for this. What a waste.” Bucky glanced over my body with utter disgust in his eyes. Bucky stepped closer, he looked older somehow, more mature. The lines around his eyes indicated that he was at least ten years older than the last time I had seen him. Even if over seventy years had passed since then.

“You forgot about everyone who’d ever given you peace of mind, playing tricks on people so they wouldn’t suspect a thing.” Y/N reached out, tracing the tips of her fingers down my cheek gently. Bucky’s jaw clenched, his hand raising into the air before his fist collided with my chest, breaking through the skin, muscle, and bone with the utmost ease. My heart was beating erratically, as if i could possibly survive something like this. “They’ll know you were a great man Steve, only you were too late to stop the inevitable” His hand tightened before pulling the organ from my chest. Y/N stepped over to Bucky, her eyes lighting up as she pressed a gentle kiss to Bucky’s wrist, blood smearing over her lips. Bucky pressed a kiss to her lips, crushing the heart in his hand with the utmost ease. ~~~ My body lunged forward on the bed, sweat dripping down my chest. Just a nightmare, that didn’t actually happen. I was alive and well, Bucky was asleep in the hall across from my own. Y/N was asleep beside me, her hair strewn across the pillow without a single care in the world. I shook my head and pushed out of the bed, heading down to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Something to help the erratic beating of my heart that seemed ready to jump from my chest in a matter of seconds. Our cat, snickers, was walking between my feet with each step, all but demanding her food bowl be refilled. She could be such a bossy little cat for only weighing ten pounds. “Let me get some water and I’ll fill your food bowl little lady.” I grabbed one of the clean glasses, filling it with water before downing the liquid quickly. It felt good, refreshing to take a few seconds to finally take a step back and breathe. Everyone had nightmares, they didn’t mean anything. Even if the dream had felt so utterly real. “No, you beat him Steve. He’s dead and gone” I looked down at my hands, grimacing at the scars that were left behind. “He may be gone, but you’re still the king of hell now.” Bucky stepped into the room, arms crossed over his chest. “Shut up, i don’t need to be reminded about that.” I groaned, rubbing my face with a long sigh. Bucky grimaced, leaning against the counter with a quiet sigh. It was a painful reminder almost daily, that my life had lead up to this moment. Since we i had successfully gotten my soul back from Satan himself, I’d been declared the new king of hell. It was utterly terrifying, I knew nothing about being a king, let alone of something so terrifying. The only positive was that I wasn’t needed very often, unless something needed a more executive decision to be made. Other than that they let me roam around and do what I pleased.

“Steve, come back to bed please.” Y/N stood in the doorway, hand outstretched to where I was standing.

“I’ll be there in a minute darling, go back to sleep.” She smiled softly, laughing for a moment before heading back to our bedroom.

Bucky smirked, raising a brow as he stared over at me.

“So, how’s it feel to be king?” I constantly wished Bucky would stop calling me that, it only made things more awkward.

“I’m not sure, you’re are my hand, anyway.” Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink.

He oversaw the armies, trained recruits when they came down, whether it was death, or other means. Heaven wasn’t everything it was cracked up to be after all. There was one positive of being king, and that was seeing loved ones who had passed away. The first person I saw was my mother, she wrapped her arms around me and wept as we stood together. My dad came second, followed by Peggy. Bucky ran to his own family, clutching his sister as if she would disappear otherwise. It was the first time I realized that being king wouldn’t be so bad. After all, I made the decisions now.

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ipoddymouth · 6 years

Text

Miracle On Whatever Street My Mom Lives On (An ‘Et Al.’ Holiday Drabble)

“Is Santa real?”

That was it. That was the question that fucked me over. There were so many things Moose asked me that I answered without even batting an eye (what’s sex? Handled. How much is crack? I gotchu, sis!), but that was the one question that I legitimately didn’t know how to answer.

It wasn’t like I could call up Flimsy and ask her if she’d had this conversation with her kid yet. Homegirl was literally dead. Her sticker-covered urn was in my living room, and I didn’t own an Ouija board. Her only offspring/living relative I knew about, Moose, was smart and I often couldn’t tell if she was just testing me or not. It’s degrading when a five year old makes you feel like an idiot and I often tried to avoid it. But this time she was looking at me so innocently that I genuinely did not know if this was a trap.

What was I supposed to say?

My mom swore - even to this day - that Santa was real. My mom also smoked anything that could burn for a large part of my childhood and I was a bit more of a realist than she was, so I’d never fully been convinced. I think that she’d wanted for there to be some sort of stability in my nomadic upbringing and there’s nothing more constant than an old, fat, white man always knowing where you are.

Santa was supposed to be fun though, right? And Moose had had a shitty year. Like, she’d lost her mom and was now living with someone not even related to her. She deserved to have a good time; there was no reason for me to swoop in and crush her childlike wonder.

“Yes, Moose, there is a Santa Claus.”

Once the words left my mouth, I knew that I was fucked. I was now officially #n2deep and there was no backing out.

Moose immediately jumped in for the contradiction. I should have kept my big-ass mouth shut. “I know that Mall Santa isn’t real because there’s Santas at every mall ‘n I’m smart enough to know that you can’t be in multiple places at once.”

Honestly, wouldn’t it really have killed Flimsy if she’d given birth to a dumb child?

And did I really need to have phrased it like that?

“Those are fake Santas, you’re correct. The real one’s at the North Pole getting stuff ready for Christmas.” The lie wasn’t effortless, but there wasn’t much hesitation. It should’ve been enough to hold her over until something else captured her attention. Really, the only thing that prevented me from routinely fucking up everything I said was how Moose would move on before the words would even leave my mouth.

But, for some reason, she wasn’t willing to drop the Santa thing. I swear, the kid had never given a flying fuck about Santa her entire life, and now she was apparently gearing up to write a fucking tell-all.

“Can I meet him?”

Moose had essentially just asked me to square the fuck up.

“Yeah. But not right now. He’s super busy this time of year,” I replied quickly. Game, set, match, little twerp!

“When will he not be busy?” Damn, bitch was straight-up about to interrogate me.

“Um… the summer, probably. Less busy then. Better hours,” I nodded at her. It’s fun knowing you’re going to go to hell solely because of the lies you’ve told a semi-innocent demon-child.

Moose’s mouth fell into the perfect frown. Like, a literal upside-down U. Her eyes got super wide, like a bush baby on speed. And they got all watery too. Moose didn’t cry… ever, so I wasn’t sure why the Santa thing was fucking with her so bad. Of course, there was the chance she was doing this on purpose and was totally fucking with me. The kid was crafty: she’d been in the principal’s office multiple times for all of the fast ones she’d pulled on the lil dummies she went to school with.

“It’s not that deep, dude. He keeps a low profile. Do you wanna get donuts?” I tried to steer the conversation back towards safer grounds.

Her frown immediately switched back into a smile. “Yes!”

Victory!

“But all I want for Christmas is to meet the reaaaalll Santa,” she drawled out, staring me dead in the eye. Terrified shivers slithered down my spine. “That’s alllll I want.”

Well, fuck.

I called an emergency meeting at Harry’s house. The emergency meeting could’ve been held at my house, but Harry’s house has more food and better central heating. So even though it was pretty out of the way for all of the people at said emergency meeting to meet there instead of my place, at least the payoff in their end was much better.

“Why are you always here?” Harry asked me as I shoved a holiday cookie in my mouth.

“Your mom sent you cookies,” I told him through the cookie that I was demolishing.

“Why are you opening my mail?”

“Um, we’re related, so that’s technically okay now.” I mean, it was. “Do you think that she’d send me some if you asked her? Like, I’m not her daughter, but I’m still kind of like her daughter.”

Harry couldn’t complain anymore because that was the moment that the rest of the guys and Ella showed up. Ella was the only one of them that Harry was happy to see, which was a bit rude, but I also couldn’t complain anymore because I was about to draft all of them to help me out with my problem.

“Am I missing something?” Harry looked at me. Okay, so maybe he was going to complain some more. Whatever; I’m fine with that.

“It’s about Moose,” I said, waving the guys over so that they too could enjoy the cookies that Harry’s mom had made. Sharing (other people’s food) is caring.

The mention of Moose’s name made everyone stop and pay attention to me. I mean, no one gave a fuck about me or my issues, but they all cared greatly for Moose. I understood that; even though the little grub was generally annoying as hell, she’d remained relatively untainted by the horrors of aging.

Once I finished basking in how I was the sole center of attention, I finally told them why we’d all gathered together. “She’s never had a Christmas without her mom. Or, at least, I’m assuming that she’s never had one without Flimsy. And now Flimsy is dead, so she’s definitely not having another Christmas with her. So we need to go balls to the fucking wall to make sure that this is the best damn Christmas that Moose has ever had.”

“What did you do?” Harry glared. It was kind of rude for him to automatically assume I’d fucked something up, but if I were Harry then I’d totally automatically assume I’d fucked something up. Because, like, I had fucked something up. I had to pull a real-life Santa Claus out of my own ass.

“I just want to give Moose the best Christmas possible,” I blinked innocently.

No one bought it.

Like, at all.

Like, they were literally folding their arms over their chests and staring me down.

Which, like, yes, I was being fake as hell. But my doe-eyed approach typically had a high success rate. I wasn’t sure why it wasn’t working on the people who knew me best. It wasn’t like I ever used that face on them.

“And there’s one more thing,” I added on quickly. Now that my jig was essentially up, I went back to my normal face before I broke the bad news. “I told Moose that Santa’s real and that means we need to prove to her that Santa is real.”

Everyone went quiet.

“She’s… she’s too smart to believe a fake Santa costume,” Niall said slowly.

“Moose is the girl who would tell the other kids on the playground why Santa is illogical,” Ella chimed in. Like, thanks, girl, for showing me how hard this was going to be. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that Moose told one of my brothers that Santa wasn’t real.”

“Why do you have so many brothers?” Niall asked.

“How many brothers do you have?” That was Louis.

“Too many. Back to the Santa issue!” I clapped my hands together before Harry could ask Ella if he could meet her hoard of siblings. I wasn’t sure where their relationship stood at that point, and even though I wanted to somehow know both everything and nothing at the same time, it wasn’t the time. “What are we going to do?”

“Tell her the truth?” Harry Styles, Santa Slayer deadpanned.

“Damn, you’re really no fun, are you?”

“I’m sorry, did no one ever introduce reality to you?” Harry sneered.

“How many lumps of coal did you have to get before you could turn it into that charcoal toothpaste you have in your bathroom?” I shot back. For the second time that day, game, set, and fucking match.

“Verity’s mom convinced me that Santa’s real,” Niall interrupted with complete and utter seriousness.

My mom loved telling people Santa was real, and it was one of the most embarrassing things about her. Like, more embarrassing than how she had me before she was legally able to drive, and also more embarrassing than how she chose to procreate with the unsalted baked potato that was Des. I never talked about the Santa thing with anyone because there was no cool, kitschy way to make it not seem totally fucking weird. It was supposed to follow my family to the grave, where it could then potentially be murdered for a second time, just to ensure it’d never have to be brought up in the future.

Damn it, Veronica. Couldn’t you just stay in your place, wherever that was?

I immediately jumped in to do damage control, but there’s only so much you can do when you know your mom’s already given the full spiel to your incredibly naive best friend. “When did the two of you ever talk about Santa in the first place?” When was Niall hanging around my mom when I wasn’t there? I mean, I knew that it’d happened before, but what the fuck? Normally he told me every single detail because he enjoyed comparing me to my mother, which was another annoyance of mine.

“Veronica and I go way back, Verity,” Niall replied like that meant anything to me.

“We go way back too! She’s my mom!”

“I argue with Verity enough on my own; I don’t need to hear the two of you fight either,” Harry interrupted us, probably because he was feeling left out and he can only survive for mere minutes when all of the attention isn’t on him. “Can you get back to the purpose of this meeting? I have things to do.”

Harry didn’t have anything to do, and if he did then it was something lame that he was better off missing than attending. The dude is really not interesting.

“Help me show Moose that Santa’s real,” I insisted. “Please. All of you. That’s all I ask.”

“You want us to trick the trickster?” Louis asked. “Sounds pretty fucking impossible.”

“A Christmas miracle,” I leveraged.

“Miracles and Santa,” Harry snorted. Seriously, who hurt him? Was he really naturally that awful? “Must be nice having your head so far up in the clouds.”

“Chill out, Krampus,” I rolled my eyes at him. “So, are we in or are we in? I’m only acting like I’m giving you options here; I’ve built an entire lifestyle out of forcing people into doing what I want them to, so there’s really no out as long as I know where you all live.”

“Make your existence sound less illegal,” Ella scolded me. Hm, maybe her and Harry had more in common than I thought.

“I will help you,” Niall, the man of the hour/someone who contractually had to agree to all of my plans (it’s what happens when both of you are reckless; you always have to go along with the other person), insisted. “But do you have a plan?”

Psh.

Hell no, I didn’t have a plan.

“I’m working on it,” I told the room. “And it’s definitely going to work.”

Liam hadn’t been at the emergency meeting because he had to work or whatever. I couldn’t penalize him for having an actual, non-boring job, but it sucked having to recap the entire afternoon to him. I mean, yeah, it only took a few seconds, but those seconds could’ve been spent doing other things, like wallowing in self-pity.

Moose had been propped in front of the television with a giant stash of dinosaur nuggets and a vault of apple juice, watching some annoying animated shit that I would never agree to watch with her. She was in her ~zone~, so I knew she wouldn’t do anything too terrible for a couple hours. I was counting on her to be chill long enough for me to formulate an actual plan, since no one from that afternoon had contributed anything even remotely useful. Honestly, what’s the point of having friends if they can’t solve all of your problems for you?

While Moose was having the time of her kindergarten life, Liam and I were holed up in my room like we were in one of those emergency bunkers that doomsday preppers build. We weren’t coming up for air until I had Santa on lock.

“Why are we hiding from Moose?” Unfortunately, the guy I was banging wasn’t entirely caught up with the crisis mode lifestyle adjustments.

Liam knew I wasn’t about to fuck him because of my strict no-penetration-while-the-child-was-in-the-apartment rule, but I typically didn’t sequester her alone in a room.

“Did you not read the messages?” I asked him. Like, there was literally a fucking group chat made specifically for this event.

“There were 47 of them and the last eight of them are between Ella and Niall talking about the best kinds of frosting to use on Christmas Tree cookies. I figured it wasn’t important,” he shrugged. “Why? Is something wrong with Moose? Does she have the chicken pox or something?”

“Worse,” I shook my head sadly.

Liam looked at me blankly. “You aren’t about to make me guess, are you?”

“No,” I told him and he let out a sigh of relief. “But it really is awful. The only thing Moose wants for Christmas is to meet Santa. The real Santa. None of that mall shit.”

It took Liam a few moments to realize I was being serious. I mean, I was also being dramatic, and he knew that, but there were overall serious tones in the room. Once he figured it out, he spent a few more seconds trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

“This… this doesn’t have to be hard, Ver. There are probably hundreds of Santas you can rent out this time of year. Just hire one of those,” Liam came through quick with the rational response I could’ve used hours ago. “Feed them some facts about her ahead of time so she seems surprised. Parents do this all the time.”

“But it’s Moose,” I stressed, gliding over the fact that I was technically a ‘parent’ in this situation. Like, where had the fucking time gone? “She’ll tear all of those imposters apart. I need the most genuine Santa I can find.”

Liam sighed, falling back on my bed. I’m glad he was calm enough to sleep at a time like this. “Can’t you just ask your mom? This seems like something she’d know how to solve.”

“I’m trying to not ask her for things. You don’t understand how weird she gets about Santa; I’d rather not have to fight with her about this again.” I may have shuddered at the thought, but deep down I knew I would have to consult The Expert sooner rather than later.

Liam pulled me down so that I was resting on top of him. If I wasn’t about to have the stress-induced anxiety attack of a lifetime, I totally would’ve made out with him. But my libido had been shot. “I know you don’t want to talk to her, Ver, but seriously? Who else is better equipped to handle this shit than her?”

“A psychiatrist? Google?” I tried.

“Stop being so difficult, dude, and just ask her.”

It was my turn to let out a deep sigh. “Ugh. I wish she had chicken pox instead of this shit.”

Veronica Clare was my mother, not my sworn enemy. Her and I were super close; probably a lot closer than we should be. But that didn’t mean that I wanted her help with this. I wanted to do everything on my own.

Unfortunately, I knew how much this meant to Moose, and I also knew how often I messed things up.

I had to concede.

Finding my mom was easy because a) she’s my mom and b) she typically had a phone on her ever since she married Clive the Guacamole Guy (he made good guac; his actual job title had nothing to do with food) and became a regular member of society. Clive made enough money for Veronica to keep with her normal busker lifestyle, so while he was doing his shit as an art dealer, my mom… made art?

Anyway, I kicked into her studio like the hellforce that I was, ready sign my soul away in order to help a potentially troubled youth. Like, let’s not pretend like Moose wasn’t going to go through some #phases. I mean, with me as her legal guardian? I went through a phase an hour and both of my parents were still living.

“I need your help,” I announced. No need to beat around the bush!

My mom wiped her paint-colored hands off with a towel as she practically floated her way over to me. Bitch was ethereal, I’d give here that. “With what, petal?”

“I need for Santa to meet Moose.” Wow, it just finds a way to sound even dumber each time I said it out loud.

My mother, to her credit, didn’t flinch. Like, at all. She was almost too calm, if you know what I mean. In fairness, she’d probably been waiting for this day since I was a child. The only man I’d ever even kind of wanted to meet was my biological father (imagine my disappointment when I found it was just Des’ old baldin’ ass), so Santa never held any appeal to me. He, much like my father for all those years, was just another mythological being. Like, at least my dad paid taxes.

“I’ve been waiting for this day!” my mom cried out with outstretched arms. See? I told you. The bitch loved Santa.

“Please sound a little less excited,” I replied with a slight frown. I knew what was coming next. Things were going to take a turn for the worse.

“Well, I happen to know Santa!” she exclaimed in a concerningly non-joking manner.

Ah, yes, the worse was here.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Oh, petal, quit being such a non-believer! Who do you think gave you all those Christmas presents when you were young? We were poor; you know I couldn’t get you all of them.”

“They came from homeless shelters and charities. I was one of those kids who’s name was on a little tag on a tree. People would pick it off and buy me presents and then drop them off and there we go.” Just because I wasn’t the smartest person on the planet, it didn’t mean I didn’t know how being both poor and a child worked.

Veronica gave me soft smile, reaching out and playing with the ends of my hair. “Oh, petal, no. That never happened.”

“It did, though.”

“Okay, it happened, but that’s not where all of the gifts came from. Some came from Santa, I swear.”

I could’ve argued to have my mother institutionalized, but I didn’t know if that would actually help anything. Like, was there any point in me trying to convince her otherwise? Clive probably knew about her weird Santa thing and he married her anyway, so I guess this wasn’t a controversial issue for everyone. To me, it was plain-fucking weird, but maybe this was the universe’s way of presenting me with a solution to my problem.

“Well, can you get Santa to meet Moose? It’s urgent.”

Not a second passed.

“Sure, Petal. I can see if he can swing by my holiday party this weekend. You and your friends are coming, right? Santa will only be able to stay for a couple minutes and he probably won’t be able to bring any of the elaborate gifts because it’s so close to Christmas and all, but he’ll probably have activity books. Moose still likes those, right?” She said in one breath as she fluttered around her studio.

I stared at her, my mouth slightly open. Like, I didn’t think she was going to commit this hard. The things Clare women will do for a bit, I guess.

“I, uh, yeah, sure. We’ll all be there.” Was I supposed to thank her? I think I was supposed to thank her. I mean, in the odd chance she actually had a convincing Santa come through and not ruin Christmas for an innocent child.

A weird thing had happened where even though I knew Moose wasn’t my child and I had no reason to, like, care all that much about how she acted-slash-looked, ever since she’d been shacking up in my apartment, I felt like I had to make sure she was on her best behavior and looked at least kind of okay. Not, like, great or anything, since I’m literally a blood relative of Harry Styles: World’s Worst Dresser, but good enough for someone to not call CPS every time the kid walked into a room.

I didn’t want to enforce gender roles on her and shove her in a dress, but the only decent thing she had was a dress, so I wrestled her into one before brushing her hair and making sure there wasn’t dirt in her teeth or whatever gross things kids acquire.

I looked… okay…, which was good enough for me.

“Is Santa going to be here?” Moose asked. Yet again, I couldn’t tell if she was testing me or not.

“If everything goes the way it should, then yes, you should be meeting Santa soon.” Was I not playing it cool enough? Veronica was reliable enough (she managed to keep me alive and out of jail), but, like, this was fucking Santa we were talking about. Could she work that one?

Moose looked up at Liam, who was riding over to my mom’s with us. “Will Santa be there?” Um, what the hell, bitch, wasn’t I all the validation you needed?

“Of course!” Liam smiled without hesitation. He was able to do that because he didn’t have to live with Moose, so he wouldn’t have to hear the inevitable fallout when she found out Santa wasn’t real.

The kid rode that high all the way to Veronica(and Clive and Raf)’s house. Meanwhile, I wondered if this was going to be the panic attack that finally took me out. I knew the situation wasn’t, like, dire whatsoever, but this somehow felt more daunting than signing the guardianship papers that allowed me to have legal responsibility of Moose. I started stress-squeezing Liam’s hand with such ferocity that he started pretending he needed both of his hands to fake-text people on his phone. Well played.

Moose immediately went on alert mode the second we stepped into Veronica’s place. She was keeping her eyes peeled for Santa. She looked like a damn meerkat. Moose was so ready to throw down that she literally stopped talking to Liam mid-sentence so that she could begin her hunt. What had I created?

“Wait!” I grabbed Moose’s arm before she could go and do whatever the hell it was kids do at someone else’s house. I pulled her close to me so that I could hiss threatening messages into her ear. “Keep your Santa propaganda to yourself,” I whispered to her. I didn’t want for her to hype up all of the other kids just to have them all get their lives ruined. Like, that would suck for literally everyone.

The gremlin shot me an annoyed look but nodded. I’d trained her well.

“Now, be free,” I commanded, letting go of her arm.

Moose tore off like a rocket so that she could wreak havoc upon people who didn’t have to speak to her on a regular basis.

“Relax, Ver, it’ll be fine,” Liam assured me before my step-sister swooped in so that she could tell Liam something wildly uninteresting. It wasn’t her fault it was boring; there’s just nothing interesting about being fifteen.

For the next twenty minutes, I forgot about the Moose-and-Santa thing. I was at my mom’s house with some of my best friends, so I logically wasn’t going to spend all of my time worrying about a malleable five year old. Like, I was a full nogg-and-a-half in before I realized I’d been stressed out all week about this party, and now Moose was nowhere to be found. I didn’t care about all the work I’d put into this (stop: I did some work). Santa whom? I wasn’t even worried about where she was. She could’ve been playing in traffic and I was so at ease that I would’ve just told her to not get her dress yet. And, knowing her, she probably really was playing in traffic. I was never going to see here again.

That is, until she barrelled directly into my legs.

I literally doubled over because Moose had almost taken out both of my kneecaps in one foul swoop.

“He knew my name!” she whispered excitedly. “Santa knows my name!”

“Moose?” Like, that was all we’d been calling her since… forever? I didn’t even know Moose’s real name until she showed up at my house. Even at that party, she was getting introduced as Moose.

“Maisie!” she shrieked. “He knew my name was Maisie! I never tell anyone that!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that both my mother and the entire New York Public Schools System had direct access to her real name. I was just happy she was going with this whole Santa thing.

“That’s… that’s great, dude!” I smiled at her. Huh, I guess my mom really had pulled this off. The bitch was good at what she did.

“He also said that he would bring you gifts every year, ‘n that sometimes you wouldn’t really believe it ‘cause you’d get presents from nice people -- charity… oh, that rhymes with Verity! -- oh, um, he said that you’d get presents from charity, but even when the charities couldn’t find you tha- that he’d still bring you gifts.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

Moose kept ramblin’ on, havin’ a good-ass time. “Yeahhhh, because one time you moved right before Christmas ‘n there wasn’t enough time for you to get on a present list but Santa still came and brought you presents anyway because he didn’t want for you to not get anything ‘cause he knew your mommy couldn’t buy stuff!”

I stared at her.

“Man, I love Christmas, Variety!” she said with a happy sigh, slapping me on the arm and skipping off to go become an evangelical Santa fan.

I was so in shock by her a) knowing about my time as an impoverished youth and b) her somehow gaining this information by a man named as Santa that I didn’t even have the chance to make a scene and scold her for calling me ‘Variety.’ Like, I didn’t call her ‘Maisie’; she could extend the same courtesy towards me.

“Why do you look like you’ve just found out we’re related for the first time?” I think Harry was making a joke, but since he’d never intentionally said anything funny in his entire life, I couldn’t be too sure.

He did, however, seem a little too smug. I mean, yeah, that was just how his face looked a lot of the time, but in this situation, it meant a lot more. I yanked his arm and dragged him to the corner of the room, away from all the festivities taking place around us. It was about to be a damn interrogation up in this bitch.

“Was that you in the Santa costume?” I hadn’t noticed him in the room (I hadn’t even noticed him at the party, tee bee aych. The guy can best be described as the word ‘beige’ come to life.), but that would’ve given him ample opportunity to slide off and do this little stint. Niall was nowhere smooth enough to pull this off, Louis couldn’t hide his accent to save his life, Zayn hated me/wasn’t even invited, and Liam was too hot to ever dress up as Santa, and it was clearly someone I knew.

Harry played dumb. I hate calling him smart, but he was smart enough to know when to play dumb. Rather unconvincingly, if I might add. Acting was definitely not this kid’s forte. “Why would I have been in a Santa costume?”

“Well someone had to be inside of it!”

“Yeah, and that someone doesn’t have to have been me,” he scoffed. “It’s not me!” he insisted as I continued glaring. “Verity, I swear, that wasn’t me.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“You don’t have to believe me! But it doesn’t change how it still wasn’t me!” He was getting annoyed now. “I don’t even believe in Santa; why would I want for Moose to believe in something just as fake?” he grumbled.

“Damn, Scrooge McDuck, what’s so bad about having a little fun?” I smirked at him. “Come on, just admit that your alter ego wanted to help me out some and then we can move on.”

My brother didn’t see the fun in this. “Would you stop? I already said it wasn’t me! I never even saw someone dressed like Santa even walk in here! God, you and your mom just never know when to quit!” he threw his hands up in exasperation before stomping off, probably grumbling insults about me to himself.

“Wait! If it wasn’t you, then who was it?” I called after him

Harry glared at me over his shoulder, still walking away. Homie didn’t even have the decency to stop in his tracks. “I guess Santa’s fucking real after all!”

#technically i wrote this last year #and just added random sentences this year #since it was a part of the series i never fully posted #anyway if yall remember et al then youll probs appreciate this more than if u dont know what et al is #poddywrites #also the italics didnt copy so yallre on your own #tryna figure out what i italicized #hint: its p much every other word

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imgilmoregirl · 6 years

Text

The Bookshop Owner (Chapter 17)

AO3 Link - FF.net Link

Notes: This chapter was revised by my sweet beta @ethereal-wishes.

So there is just one more chapter to go! I'm really, really thankful for everybody who has been reading this fic and I would like to tell you guys that I'll be posting a one-shot related to this work once it is finished, the missing smut scene between Gold and Belle, which for now I'm calling "Secrets of a Night in Brighton."

Belle was restyling her hair in front of the mirror. She thought it was satisfactory until she gazed in the mirror. She grimaced at the way it fell around her shoulders in a tangled disarray. Pulling it all up in a ponytail, Belle made a groaned at how it made her look young and naive, so she tried to pin the sides back, but it was too common for her.

Snorting, Belle opened her purse, looking for the right hair clasps and made a simple bun. It was not the best she ever looked, but they were in Brighton, in the middle of one of the hottest springs England had ever faced, so all she could do was to be comfortable enough not to sweat and ruin her make up. Straightening her white dress, she turned around to see if she could find one of the boys to talk to her and distract her from her thoughts when she saw Gold appear on the staircase. Her heart skipped a beat at the amazing sight of him. He was still wearing his tennis shoes, and the jeans and black Hawaiian shirt accented him so well. If she could, she would make him wear it once a week.

Adam smirked, leaning on his cane. Belle offered him help to go down the rest of the steps and encircled his waist with her arms, giving him a quick kiss.

"Satisfied?" Gold asked.

"Delighted," Belle answered.

A guffaw interrupted them at other end of the hallway, and they turned around to see Neal and Gideon attempting to stifle their laughter at the image of their father out of his three-piece suits for the first time in his life. The oldest boy plucked his phone from inside his pocket, lifting it and clicking on the camera icon.

"I need a picture!" Neal exclaimed.

"What?" Gold arched an eyebrow. "We are teenagers going off to a ball now?"

"Come on, papa, just a picture," the boy insisted, making Adam sigh as he positioned himself near Belle. "I'll make a copy of it to put on your office door."

"I want one, too," Gideon interjected.

Gold rolled his eyes. "Alright, you boys have had your fun, now Neal has money for pizza, and I don't want anybody playing with any motorcycle when August arrives."

Neal had suggested that morning to invite August over while Gold and Belle went on their date, so they could continue their conversations from last time and take another look at the motorcycle that had them astonished. Adam had thought at first that that was a good idea, because it meant the boys would be interacting, which was always great, and they probably wouldn't have any argument in front of a friend, but when he stopped to better analyze it, he started to imagine them riding around the neighborhood. Gold decided that it might not be a perfect plan.

"Bye, papa!" His oldest son said, gesticulating in the direction of the front door.

"I'm serious, Neal," Gold insisted, "those things are dangerous."

Belle grabbed his hand, dragging him through the hallway with narrowed eyes. "Adam, let's go."

"But they - "

"Are not children, alright?"

"Alright," he muttered, defeated as they left the house and halted in front of the rented car. "I don't believe I've told you how stunning you look today."

A blush bloomed to her cheeks, Belle glanced at the ground shyly, so much like the nineteen-year-old girl he met so long ago, that time could very well have not passed at all.

"Well, thank you," she beamed.

He opened the door for her, letting Belle settle inside, before slipping in his seat in front of the steering wheel, resting his cane by his side as he prepared to start driving. Belle watched him out of the corner of her eye during their ride through the city, enjoying the view she was certain she was only going to see once in her life. Gold had been the one to propose going out for the night, but she had been the one to organize it all, despite of all his protests, and Belle was especially excited for their night, because it was the first time she'd planned something special for just yhe two of them.

When the car stopped in front of their destination, she indicated and Belle opened the door, grabbing Gold's hand to dragging him down the street. She delighted herself with the puzzled glances he granted her. Belle smirked as she pushed open the door of an old pub, going straight to an empty table for two. It was remarkable to Adam how much he was feeling displaced as he pulled up a chair and sat adjacent from her.

"Why not a fancy restaurant?" he questioned. "I could pay for it."

"You're in England," Belle bounced, "we are going to have a proper date in a pub."

Giving her a curious glance, Gold mindlessly twisted his cane in one hand, causing Belle to hold in a breath at how gorgeous he was at that moment, a half-smile played on his lips, eyes narrowing as he studied her.

"There are pubs in Scotland too, dearie."

"One night," Belle said slowly, "for one night, you will be just as any other British person."

"Alright," he gave up, "you're in command tonight."

They ordered white wine and french fries to start, which wasn't something Gold thought complimented each other, but he started eating anyway, because that was what Belle wanted and as long as he was in her company, everything was perfect. It didn't mean he wasn't feeling weird about the clothes he was wearing, in that specific place with the alternative music and boisterous crowd.

"This is the most awkward day of my life," he mumbled after taking a sip of his wine.

Belle blinked her lashes in the sweetest way she could. "But it is worth it, isn't it?"

"Totally, sweetheart."

"Tell me something about your life."

"I have had a quite a boring life since the last time we saw each other," Adam shrugged. "I worked in the same place the last seventeen years, only gathering some new partners. Cora is one of them."

A frown appeared on her face, she seemed to be uncomfortable but asked anyway: "What is your full story with that woman?"

Gold took a long deep breath, before speaking, because he knew Belle might not like what she was going to hear. He wasn't proud of his story with Cora either.

"I contracted her two years ago, because she is a heck of a lawyer, she always wins," he began. "She showed a weird interest in me right from the start, but I tried to ignore it, then one day when I was feeling especially lonely, I slept with her, my biggest mistake. For me it was just a one-night stand, for her it was like the beginning of a relationship, then when I rejected her, she started to do everything she could to make my life difficult."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Belle said emphatically, clasping his hand securely in her own. "Some relationships suck."

"Oh, it wasn't even a relationship, but it served for me to learn my lesson and never make that mistake again," Adam said, gazing into her beautiful blue iris, smiling at how understanding she was, but deep down, he always knew Belle was the best listener he'd ever had the pleasure to meet. She was what he had spent a lifetime looking for, and he couldn't let her go again. "Well, now I won't need to, because from now on, all I wish for is a life with you."

"I do too, but..." she started, biting down her lip. "But how are we going to do this? I mean, we live in different countries."

Caressing her fingers that were still interlaced with his, Gold knew if they hadn't had a table between them, he would already be kissing her about now. Belle was fearful of how things might end, and she clearly didn't see a solution for their current situation; he didn't even know if she truly believed they could make it, but he wanted her forever, and he would give up everything to have her.

"You know how much I love Scotland, however I'm willing to leave it behind and move to England."

Belle raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Are you?"

"I am," he nodded in confirmation.

The expression on her face was priceless, so happy and worried at the same time, but it seemed to be Belle French through and through, even when she was being her bravest. However, it was what made her special, as she always overcome her fear, without having full knowledge of what she was about to do.

"I have the tiniest flat in the world," Belle pointed out.

"I believe there are plenty houses for sell in London. We can buy one."

A new kind of hope filled her eyes when she gasped: "Really?"

He laughed.

"Is that so difficult to believe that I want a life with you, Belle?"

"No, I'm just - " she sighed. "I feel like I'm dreaming, and I don't know would you leave your home."

Gold felt this was all was a dream he could wake up from at any moment, but after all the things they had faced to be there that night, he thought they deserved happiness. There were many reasons he couldn't have been there for Belle and his son during the last seventeen years, and it would be incredibly selfish if he asked them to leave their lives in London behind to move to Scotland with him. Plus, it wasn't the best way of mending things with Gideon, because he knew the boy would probably oppose to move away from his school, friends, and boyfriend.

"I can guarantee you that this is no dream, and I'm the one moving, because I want to do this."

Belle stretched herself to reach for him and locked their lips together, a promise that the future would be beautiful.

After dinner, they went to the rocky beach, took off their shoes, from Belle's insistence and started a slow walk through the seawater, getting their feet wet. Gold let her hook her arm around his and lean on him just like he was leaning on his cane.

"So, after you move," Belle started, "what will happen with your job?"

"I can rent an office."

Inhaling deeply, the salty aroma which permeated the air, she looked over the length of the beach observing how some people were taking walks just like them or doing evening hikes. There was a quiet peace to the image, and she thought she could relish living in that moment if it wasn't for the fact she had so many insecurities, and a huge part of her kept insisting that at some point she would realize it was all a mistake.

But Belle didn't want it to be, she wanted to be with the man she loved, and simply be grateful they had been given a second chance.

"You have a solution for everything, huh?"

"Not everything," Gold replied with a small laugh. "I wasn't able to convince you that you didn't need me to wear these clothes."

Belle chortled, because as much as he loathed the jeans and the whole idea of black Hawaiian shirts, she thought it was incredible and maybe the fact that he hated it all just made her love it even more. One of the things she most adored about him, was how cute he looked when was uncertain about something.

They kept walking in silence, taking calculated steps and feeling the rocks underneath the water scratching their feet, but not caring at all. Belle was attentive of every sound on the beach and for once, she wasn't hurrying to get home after a date, nor thinking if Gideon was fine without her, because now he had an older brother to take care of him, and she was in company of someone she didn't want to leave, so when she heard the first notes of the melody behind them, she stopped walking.

"Listen," Belle whispered.

"What?"

"Music!" She pointed out, happily recognizing a song she knew by heart. "It's coming from the pier!"

Gold nodded in agreement. "Beautiful music."

An idea occurred to her, and Belle stretched a hand to him with a proposal on the tip of her tongue and a new glow in her eyes. "Will you dance with me?"

"In the middle of the water?" Gold questioned, gazing around.

"Only our feet are touching the water, your fool!"

Rolling his eyes, Gold dropped his cane a little further where the waves weren't reaching the rocks to be able to position her in his arms, touching their foreheads together as they found a lazy rhythm to dance to.

"I love you, Belle French," he muttered.

"I love you too, Adam Gold."

As their lips met hungrily, teeth bumping against the other in the hurried pace to deepen the kiss, a thin rain started to fall, initially just a drizzle, but then it grew harder, immediately soaking them.

"It's raining!" Belle exclaimed.

"I can't believe it!" Gold replied looking angrily at his damp clothes.

She grabbed his cane from the rocky shore, dragging him away from the sea so they could pull on their shoes before she led him to the east.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"The pier," Belle explained.

So the couple gathered there, sheltering under the pier alongside more unfortunate people which decided to go to the beach at the wrong time just like them. And as they waited for the rain to stop, they sat side by side, watching the drops falling from the sky from one of the shops, another song played on.

"This is what 'now' looks like," Belle French concluded.

Neal wasn't paying much attention at what was happening outside the house, but he had gone to the kitchen to grab a beer for August and occasionally looked through the windows at the rain, and that was when he saw something definitely out of picture.

"Gideon," he called, "look at this!"

The younger brother came from the living room and halted by Neal's side, directing his glance to where he was pointing. Outside the house, the car they rented in London was parked again, and in the middle of what seemed to be a summer storm were the silhouette of two bodies, joyfully moving together in some kind of unique dance.

"Is it my mother and Gold?"

"So it seems," Neal laughed. "Now, you have to admit, I'm a genius and my plan was brilliant."

Gideon made a grimace. "I think we should discuss this in a couple of months, brother, and if they're still together, then I'll admit it."

"Deal. But if they are together a year from now, you own me fifty pounds."

"Fifty pounds?" Gideon repeated. "Yeah, alright, I think we do have a deal."

#rumbelle fic #mine #writing #rumplestiltskin #belle french #rumbelle #neal cassidy #gideon gold #ao3 #ethereal-wishes beta

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sanjipussyindulgence · 7 years

Text

Bloody Ocean Waves: Chapter 1

My arms wrapped protectively around my legs as I curled into a tight ball, doing my best to disappear. The cold bathroom tiles chilled me to the bone. I didn’t feel well enough to get up and get dressed. My extreme lack of body fat wasn’t really helping either. Fuck I can’t remember the last I ate, though there’s a good reason for that…

Monsters don’t deserve to eat.

My stomach growled loudly which echoed throughout the large bathroom. Yeah thanks body really needed that reminder, not like I’m already fully aware of how hungry I am. How could I not be when it’s always so painful. Even if I wanted to eat, which I very clearly DON’T, there was nothing around for light-years. I left my only food source back on Earth.

I could always just ea-

I shook the thoughts from my head before they could finish. It’ll never come to that. I’d willingly launch myself into space to prevent that. Especially considering the mess I’m in right now. The thing with being one of the saviors of the entire known universe, you aren’t allowed to be weak. But I’m weak. So all I can really do is pretend I’m not. Just keep pretending until it’s true, right? I breathed heavily while my thoughts wandered to my family back on Earth.

They were all “monsters” like me. But they’re the best monsters in the whole wide galaxy. None of us had ever killed, we only fed on the already dead. Mostly suicide victims. Mama always taught us how to hide, we weren’t allowed to live without the constant fear of being found out. Papa was the “hunter” of our family, he was the only one with a job when I was growing up. He had to care and feed for a large family of seven ghouls. Big sis was never ashamed of being a monster like I was, she would always help dad with the “food”. When someone was having a bad day she’d even make us special treats. I never asked her how she made them, I didn’t want them ruined for me. Her name never seemed to match her. Lola meant “sorrows” yet she was anything but.

I never knew my big brother, he was caught before I was born. Mama didn’t like talking about him. Rosa or as I called her “Poco”, ‘cus I was the older twin, was never the same after she lost control for the first time. My bright and curious little sister was gone after she refused to eat for too long. She tended to keep to herself after what happened. Thankfully Mama stopped her before she could kill anyone but… Mama still has the scar. I’m afraid I’ll end up like her, not that I’d survive if I lost myself out here. Either the guys would kill me or I’d do it myself when I come too.

Last were the little twins Verita and Paz, or as I like to call them the little troublemakers. Despite being twins they looked nothing alike yet they were basically the personality-wise. You could never see one without the other. And when you saw neither of them it meant trouble was coming. Mom and Lola were forced to get jobs because of the now larger family. And since I was the eldest I practically raised them myself. Though Poco used to help before her accident. The twins are still too young to understand just what we are.

It’s pretty rare to find a family of ghouls nowadays. Our lifestyle is too dangerous to bring children into, when someone is born a ghoul they might have well been born dead. But I can’t bring myself to be mad at my parents for their choices. They wanted to be happy, they wanted to be human. I can understand the feeling. Anyone would prefer to be human instead of a human-eating monster. I just wish I had a choice to be something else.

I guess I got my wish. I was accepted into the Galaxy Garrison, the top military school for space exploration. I even got promoted to a fighter class pilot, even if it only because the top pilot dropped out. And god was I reminded of that everyday.

“Why can’t you be more like Keith, Lance?”

“Oh if only Keith hadn’t dropped out.”

“Why are you even here Lance.”

But I still tried every day while I was there. I wanted to be more than a ghoul, I wanted to be an astronaut. I wanted to be like my hero Shiro. But I never succeeded no matter how hard I tried. I guess monsters aren’t allowed to have dreams. But then I found a giant mechanical space lion with Keith, Shiro, Hunk, and Pidge. Then that lion chose me as her pilot and the five of us were sent far away from our planet.

We were thrust into a galaxy ruined by another kind of monster, The Galra. Purple space aliens that had spent the last 10,000 years ruling and expanding their empire. We met Allura and Coran, more aliens, that told us we had to pilot five ancient lions that combine into the legendary warrior “Voltron”. We were told we had to fight this war because no one else could and if we didn’t Earth would soon be conquered. I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to everyone, they probably think I’m dead.

It seemed everyone sans me took to the whole “savior of the universe” thing. Shiro was an escaped prisoner of the Galra who wanted to make this universe free once gain, he was our super cool leader. Pidge’s family were taken prisoner by the Galra along with Shiro and she spends every moment she can looking for them. Keith aka Mr. Im-super-cool-and-dont-try-with-anything-but-still-succeed-because-im-so-PERFECT was meant for this life, a life of battle and bloodshed. Hunk took the longest to reach his full potential, I mean he’s still incredibly nervous and panicky about everything but after seeing what the Galra are really capable of he started to grow into the role.

Meanwhile, I’m just here starving. I’m not a good leader like Shiro, or a stupidly talented hacker like Pidge, or a super skilled fighter and pilot like Keith, or even a great chef and engineer like Hunk. I don’t have a “thing”. Well, my thing is being a bloodthirsty and murderous monster but I try to forget that. But I’m not allowed to show my ever growing weakness so I cover it up with bad flirting and even worse puns and jokes. I’m the weak link already, I can’t let myself be even weaker by showing just how unstable I really am.

Not that anyone seems to notice, no one thinks anythings wrong with “jokester” Lance. Guess I should be happy no one knows about how fucked I really am. Wonder if that’s because I’m such a good actor or because no one cares to look deeper. I’d guess on the latter. Even Hunk and Coran who like me only like the front I put. They’d all be either terrified or murderous towards me if they knew I’m a ghoul. Ghouls don’t really have to best reputation with good reason. After all, we are superhuman, human-looking, and human eating monsters.

I raised my head from my knees. Guess I’ve sulked here long enough, not that anyone would really notice my lack of presence. I picked myself off the ground and walked over to where I left my clothes before taking my shower. That happened to be in front of a mirror. I looked at my reflection, our malnourished bodies that really showed how long it had been since we’ve had a meal, our still damp hair that hung over our borderline skeletal face, and just how human we looked. For the first time in awhile I let my kagune out. Bright blue pupils quickly changed to a deep red with a black background that leaked red veins onto my face. Funny how I can barely see the ones on my eyebags, guess I haven’t been sleeping enough lately either. A brightly colored “tail” sprung from my tailbone. It was made up of countless shades of blue that collided and bled into each other before ending into a white seafoam-like color at the tip. This “tail” was of course my kagune, a special organ that only ghouls have that can manifest outside the body. It kind of looks like when an ocean wave hits a rock that sprays seawater everywhere. The coloring and shape were the same. I’ve always loved the ocean. I used to think my kagune was beautiful when I was young and naive. Now it’s just a reminder of the monster I really am.

I relished in my monstrous appearance for a few minutes before tucking it away. I can’t afford to be found out. No matter how much it hurts to keep it hidden for so long.

Monsters aren’t allowed comfort.

I quickly got dressed before leaving my bathroom and into my room. Though it wasn’t really my room since I left that back home. This room was missing the glow in the dark stars glued to the ceiling and walls, the posters of various shows, the waterbed my mom finally let me get after years of begging, my surfboard I’d always hang over that same bed, but most importantly it was missing the sounds of a family of seven living together in a small house. Poco and I used to share that room before her accident, after that she always just slept on the couch. I guess she wasn’t comfortable sleeping next to someone.

I left my room and stalked down the long and empty halls that made up the ship. Most of this place was empty and abandoned with only me exploring the many rooms scattered throughout the castle-ship. I guess the others had better things to do. Either way, I love finding new secret rooms that I can use for whatever I want. Sometimes if I just forgot about everything and watched the colorful galaxies swirling into each other while bright stars twinkled all around me, I enjoyed myself. I love space I mean I wanted to be an astronaut, of course, I love space. I guess it’s not the worse place to die in hindsight, just wish I said goodbye to everyone. Man, I’m pretty damn depressive today. Well enough moping I’ve got a galaxy to defend and a space princess to save.

On our last mission Princess Allura was captured by the Galra and was taken to their home base by the order of Zarkon, leader of the Galra. Our ship was currently traveling by wormhole to get there after all of us, sans Keith the dick, decided to rescue her. While we were indeed traveling pretty fast to her location The Galra were still about an hour and a half away from us. When we first entered the wormhole Shiro ordered us all to get prepared for the upcoming battle. I went to take a shower and ended up moping for a lot longer than the healthy amount but whatever it’s totally fine~

The ship’s intercoms sparked alive.

“Paladins we are nearing The Galra’s home base, get to your Lions!” Coran’s voice echoed throughout the empty hallways. I quickened my pace to Blue.

Once I reached her hanger she sprung to life shield going down and eyes brightening up. She switched from her sitting position to rest her head on her paws with her rear high in the air with a grace that shouldn’t be possible from a giant robot. She looked like a dog. I rested my hand on her snout and I felt her purr resonate throughout my mind. Guess she could tell I’ve been having a shitty day. She’s so beautiful and wonderful and caring I love her so much how can a mechanical lion be this adorable. Not wanting to waste any more time I quickly hopped into her cockpit and took control of her movements. I switched the intercom in my helmet on was met by an eerie quiet uncommon of our radio station. I guess everyone knew just how serious this was, after all, we might just lose a teammate today. Whether it was a Paladin or the Princess didn’t matter. This was without a doubt the most dangerous mission we’ve been on so far since we first became Paladins of Voltron two months ago.

“Blue Paladin ready for action!” I spoke into my helmet’s mic to alert the others I’ve made it to my lion. A cocky tone seeped into my voice. Hopefully acting like nothing was wrong could bring the mood up.

“Lance what took you so long?!” Keith, The Red Paladin, spoke first.

“Even Hunk got here before you.” Pidge, The Green Paladin, was next with a halfway serious halfway teasing comment.

“Hey! I’m not that bad...” Hunk, The Yellow Paladin and the human embodiment of everything good and pure in this universe spoke next.

“Guys focus! Lance’s here now and that’s all that matters.” Our very own Black Paladin Shiro was quick to defuse the situation in his typical leaderly manner.

“Paladins we’ll be exiting the wormhole in exactly thirty ticks!” Coran’s voice rang through our helmets. Ticks are like a second I think? Wow did I show up late.

“Everyone we only have one chance to get Allura and escape, the moment we leave the ship we form into Voltron and hit fast. Our only objective here is to save her and escape remember that. Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Fifteen ticks!”

“Is everyone ready?!” Shiro commanded.

“YEAH!” We all responded in unison.

As the seconds counted down all of us kept silent in anticipation. Ten seconds left. I could feel my nervousness bleeding into my mental connection with Blue, she was quick to send me her own feelings of an oddly mother-like calm. Five seconds left. I flexed my fingers around Blue’s controls and took a deep breath in. Three seconds left. I let it lose just as the ship exited it’s wormhole.

“NOW!” Shiro orderly loudly, we were all prepared.

All of our lions flew out of their hangers in perfect sync and out into the cold vacuum of space. The Galra base was right in front of us and it was huuuuuuge. The main battleship was easily the size of a moon or a small planet with numerous smaller battleships surrounding it. And surrounding that was this huge mechanical ring. It was a terrifying sight to see so many of those warships at once, it was difficult for Voltron to take down one of those things let alone thousands. This was no time to get distracted. As our lions flew in sync all of them starting changing shape. The red and green lions became arms, the blue and yellow lions became legs, and finally the black lion became the torso. As Blue’s cockpit shuttered and shook I could tell she was connecting with the other lions. Where five lions once were now stood a multicolored humanoid robot. This was Voltron, legendary defender of the universe. Voltron… wasn’t moving?!

“What’s happening?” I cried out.

“Something’s wrong with Black I can’t control her.” Shiro called out, it obvious that he was trying to keep the panic out of his voice. After all, if our leader doesn’t have a cool head then none of us do.

“Uh guys we got company!” Pidge shouted as the hundreds of Galra battleships unleashed their fighter drones while their heavy cannons started charging. Those cannons could level a city in one blast and we are currently a giant multicolored STATUE. I know I said I wasn’t gonna be super negative for the rest of today but we are so fucked right now.

“Shiro what’s wrong?” Keith asked in a mix of concern and panic.

“Black is rejecting me for some reason!” Just as he spoke Voltron split apart leaving five dazed lions and their equally dazed paladins. Wait no make that four dazed lions and five equally dazed paladins. The Black Lion ejected Shiro from her cockpit before flying full speed towards the Galra home base, to Zarkon. Shiro, like the truly badass leader he is, quickly regained his hold on the situation.

“Alright change of plans Pidge you help me get into that base to rescue Allura. Keith you keep Black from getting to Zarkon. Hunk, Lance it’s up to you two to keep the Galra distracted!”

He all nodded our agreement in sync. Or at least I think we all nodded I mean I nodded but I can’t really see the others but- whatever let’s just say we all nodded.

As I took off towards the nearest cluster of Galra fighter drones I saw Shiro getting into the Green Lion alongside Pidge who then switched her ion into stealth mode. Hunk followed me as quickly as he could in the admittedly slow Yellow Lion. No offense to Yellow though I know he’s a real sweetheart just like his paladin. I mean if anyone knows how much a sweetheart Hunk is it’s me I mean I’ve known him forever and he always bakes me stuff even though it tastes disgusting to me, being a ghoul and all, but I always eat it anyways and yeah I know that’s not healthy bu- OH SHIT LASERS.

I veered Blue sharply to the right to a sudden barrage of Galra laser fire. Right, I can’t get distracted right now this is serious, especially if I ramble when I’m nervous. Not allowed to ramble in battle. I turned this sudden right turn into a tailspin to move Blue towards a mass of drones. There were a lot of them, I’d say like thirty, but they’re all pretty close together. So ice beam it is then. I swiftly charged up Blue’s ice beam and it struck the drone fleet dead on, I mean of course it hit dead on I’m the sharpshooter of Voltron. Even though I’m the only one that seems to think that- I’m getting off track again. About twenty of the fighters were rendered unusable from that blast and the remaining ten split off.

I aimed the regular beam towards three fighters that flew away together to make their own little group and fired. Blue’s laser beam hit one of them right through the cockpit causing it to crash into another ship, destroying both in a pretty cool looking explosion. That just leaves one left for me, assuming that Hunk takes care of the other five that flew off. It charged towards me guns a blazing. I gracefully avoided all the shots by rapidly dipping and spinning Blue around. Soon the fighter was up close enough to grab. I launched Blue at the drone and her massive jaws crushed the cockpit of the ship, she then threw the ruined fighter drone at another one that was closing in on us. The drones collided into each other began spiraling out of control, what a good kitty. I felt Blue’s affection come in mental waves at the compliment. I turned around and sped off towards Hunk who I saw had finished the five fighters that had split off and was now taking down a new cluster of drones.

The Yellow Lion was relatively short-ranged compared to his sisters but was perfect for close-range combat with its heavily armored body than could bash and bite better than any of the other lions. Hunk was perfectly aware of this fact and was taking down enemy after enemy. It was a super cool sight to see not that I should be watching instead of fighting. I was about to launch Blue into battle but something stopped me. I saw that a nearby Galra battleship had finished charging it’s heavy cannon.

“HUNK DUCK!”

But I knew that the Yellow Lion wouldn’t be fast enough to evade the blast and even if he was the most heavily armored none of us could take a laser like that head-on. Without a second thought I sped Blue right into the side of Yellow, knocking him and his paladins out of the blast range. I piloted Blue into a nosedive to escape the blast range but it was too late. Just as we were about to escape the cannon fired. Blue’s lower half was directly hit. Suddenly I was shot out of my chair in Blue’s cockpit and violently thrown about as Blue was knocked by the blast. Fortunately my hard ghoul skin and rapid healing factor kept me awake, or unfortunately since I was being smashed into every wall and panel in Blue’s cockpit repeatedly.

“LANCE!”

I was thrown against the right wall once again but Blue had stopped moving. The cockpit was completely dark, or it would have been to a regular human but hey night vision, as Blue’s power had cut out. That only ever happened when she was really injured. I hastily pulled myself over to the piloting and hissed in pain when I sat down. That’s totally a broken tailbone. My lungs pressed painfully against my ribs making it difficult to breathe, so a few broken ribs as well. Hopefully, none of them puncture a lung, a ghoul’s healing can only help so much. Blue’s cockpit flickered alive though the blue light was dimmer than it was before.

“Sorry beautiful.” I said softly as I grabbed hold of her controls.

“Lance are you okay??” Hunk sounded like he was on the verge of a panic attack, better calm him down fast.

“Yeah I’m cool, both in health and personality.”

He breathed a sigh of relief. Now that Blue’s monitors were online again I could that Yellow was braced against Blue which is what stopped that roller coaster of pain earlier.

“Thanks for the save.”

“Are you sure you’re okay that blast looked really bad.” Ah Hunk, always the worried mom friend.

“Yeah yeah no I’m super it’s gonna take more than that to take out the great blue paladin of Voltron.” I get the feeling that Hunk didn’t believe me, he was always the one who could see through my act. Better change the subject before he presses more.

“Hunk I need you to take out as many cannons as you can, I’ll handle the drones for now.”

“But you’re injured!”

“Hunk please I’m fine but neither of us will be if the rest of the cannons start firing.” I pleaded with him.

“Alright...” He sounded concerned as he usually is but he took off to the nearest Galra battleship without further complaints. I trusted that he could handle himself.

I launched Blue at the nearest drone fighter and she easily tore into it. Another ten or so surrounded us as we finished off the first one. I fired her ice beam to my right and it froze two fighters solid while the rest scattered. I would have liked to chase after them but Blue’s pretty banged up, I don’t want her to get hurt anymore. I could feel her in the back of my mind reminding me that I’m also banged up. Instead of chasing after them I flew in the opposite direction and activated the long-term cannon, or as I like to call it the “sniper rifle”. Ahead of me, there were two drones heading for us. They swerved left and right rapidly to avoid being hit but that’s alright, patience is key for a sniper. I waited as they closed in on us. In their random swerving they had accidentally lined up, but it’ll only be for a second.

Now!

I shot a beam directly through the one in front that passed through its cockpit to blow the wing off of the one in the back. The fighter drone in the front exploded and the other veered off coarse before crashing into the body of a nearby battleship. I allowed myself a small whoop of joy. Now I don’t mean to toot my horn but- okay no I am totally tooting my own horn that was awesome. Man I wonder if anyone else saw that.

“Paladins I have been safely returned to the castle and am now preparing for a wormhole jump, everyone returns to the ship!” Allura’s angelic voice rang throughout our radio channel, looks like Shiro and Pidge got her out without much problem. Thank god she’s safe now.

“Looks like we’re heading back babe” I said softly to Blue. I was just about to turn around and fly back to the ship but the action was short by a sudden scream in my ear. It was Keith’s voice.

“KEITH!” I heard the others scream.

Looking to my left I could see The Red Lion getting its mechanical ass kicked by- ZARKON?! Apparently when Keith hears “Protect the Black Lion from Zarkon” he translates that to “Go get your ass kicked by Zarkon”. What a modern Einstein we’ve got here. Well looks like I’m gonna have to step up as the hero here, out of my duty as a Paladin of Voltron not because I care about him. I had Blue launch herself at the two figures at top speed.

The funny thing about Keith’s battle against Zarkon was Keith was piloting a giant space lion while Zarkon was piloting nothing, he was winning without even a spaceship. Oh man why am I getting into this I’m gonna die. Oh well, might as well go down swinging I guess. Maybe I’ll get a sweet Viking funeral or like a really cool tombstone that’s got my face carved into it so even in death people can appreciate my beautiful face. That’d be pretty sweet. I’m rambling again oh man I’m totally gonna die.

Blue crashed right into Zarkon right before he could strike down Keith, who was currently sitting in the cockpit of a powered down Red Lion. Zarkon jumped back and out of Blue’s reach before he could be crushed but it gave me just enough time to grab Keith and get out of here. I had Blue pick up Red by her scruff, does she have a scruff I mean she is a cat but a scruff is just a bunch of flesh on the back of a cat’s neck and robots don’t really have flesh ya know? Whatever I picked Red up and I started my very heroic escape. I heard Zarkon scream in anger behind me and it was pretty damn terrifying, not that the heroic Blue Paladin of Voltron was easily frightened.

“Haggar don’t let anymore escape!” He hissed. I’m pretty sure Haggar was that druid lady that hung around inside their ship. Looks like the others had made it to the ship though considering how pissed he sounded. But how is he expecting some hag inside their ship to do to us? Honestly kind of stupid- what the hell is that.

Behind me I saw what I could only describe as something ripped straight from a fantasy game. A beam of purple lightning was coming from the castle and headed right towards Keith and I. It didn’t look like one of the ship’s weapons, it looked like magic. And I knew what a Galra druid’s magic could do to someone.

“Lance dodge!” Oh looks like Keith finally came to good work there champ totally didn’t know I had to avoid the magical death beam.

I couldn’t move Blue away quick enough, not while carrying Red as well. The beam hit both lions dead on. Words cannot describe the pain that rocked my entire body. It felt like someone with cold, sharp, and wrong hands were ripping me apart and putting me back together. I could feel those hands everywhere. I could feel them stroking my kagune even if it wasn’t out. Each stroke felt wronger and more painful. It was like very secret I’ve hidden was torn right out of my body. Oh god, my eyes are gonna pop out of my head. I heard someone screaming, I wonder if it was me or Keith.

Then suddenly the pain was replaced with an extreme lack of breath. All the air had been knocked out of my body and all of my limbs felt heavier than should be possible. I collapsed back in my chair while trying suck in a breath of air. I felt uncomfortable in my own skin everything was wrong. Whatever that witch did she knew what I was now. I could still feel her gripping my tail and pulling as hard as she could. I could feel her ripping open my eyelids and pressing her fingertips down into the sockets. Oh god I think I’m going into shock.

“Lance! Keith!” I heard Shiro yell as Black stood protectively over the collapsed Blue and Red Lions. I wearily pulled myself out of my stupor and gripped Blue’s controls just as she came back online. The moment she was awake she filled my mind with calming and concerned thoughts. I shook my head slightly and mumbled “’m f’ine” to both my team and to Blue. I could hear Keith groaning in the background, looks like he’s doing just as well as I am.

I stood Blue up just as Black picked up Red by her not-scruff and took off once Shiro was sure I could pilot Blue back to the ship. I followed behind as quickly as someone who might be in shock could, I don’t think Zarkon was following us. I hope he wasn’t I can barely keep my eyes-cold nails tracing the sides of my pupil- open. Before I even knew it all three of us were back in the castle and I could hear the rest of the team talking to each other but it sounded really mumbled to me. Surely I could take a quick nap now that we were back at the castle…

Wait, I hear them yelling at each other something’s wrong. I can’t sleep yet oh god what are they saying I can’t focus.

“-ormhole!”

“Corrupt-”

“Can’t stay toget-”

“PIDGE!”

“HUNK!!”

“LANCE NO!”

Huh? When did Blue leave her hanger, why are we outside? Why am I in a wormhole? Why’s Keith about to crash into me-

#voltron #lance #langst #ghoul!lance #bloody ocean waves #my writing #tokyo ghoul #klance #klangst

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medproish · 6 years

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Moments like this – when the collective rap community gets to see someone’s meteoric rise culminate into that world-stopping drop of a debut album – are rare but they make being a fan worth all the trouble. There’s nothing like being a part of something so big, even if your role is nothing more than perusing the Twitter timeline and going back and forth with followers about your individual opinions. A lot of people didn’t think Cardi B would make it to this moment. Maybe some even hoped that she wouldn’t. The Bronx native made the most seamless transition from social media star, to reality TV star, to rap star in history. But the key word in all of those phases of her career is star. Cardi has a quality and an essence that can’t be confined to any singular path. She’s a natural entertainer and we’re all here to enjoy the ride. That’s why the stakes for her debut album Invasion of Privacy are some of the highest in recent rap history.

The question now is, is Invasion of Privacy actually good? We’d been witnesses to Cardi’s growth with her Gangsta Bitch Music mixtape series, as she worked through the growing pains of finding her sound. It’s where she flexed her muscles on songs like “Foreva” and “Lick,” slowly transforming into an artist who now dominates Billboard charts. Known for her transparency and her ability to be completely unhinged, we were privy to her personal life in ways that became even too much for her. Invasion of Privacy is an honest debut from a rapper who built a brand on being “regular,” even if she’s not so regular anymore.

Noisey staff writers Lawrence Burney and Kristin Corry break down Invasion of Privacy track-by-track upon first listen, and here were their first impressions.

“Get Up 10”

Lawrence: “Went from making tuna sandwiches to making the news” is a rags-to-riches analogy that I can fully conceptualise. This is a textbook way to start a career-defining rap album. Cardi spends a quarter of the song reliving the days she had to get through to make it to this moment before making a Tee Grizzley by-way-of Meek Milly shift in gears. If you’re going to make a statement, you have to plant your flag firmly into the ground and stand on those words. Whether you live up to them or not is irrelevant for that brief initiation, but Cardi sends a convincing warning.

Kristin: I’m totally here for the “Dreams & Nightmares” feel of it, I just worry that she’s going to end up sounding like everybody but Cardi. It’s a great way to start a debut, and we’ve seen that these introspective intros work well. Cardi adapts well to whatever flow she wants to adopt for the moment. She owned Kodak’s flow on “Bodak” and is damn near a fourth Migo on “Drip.” I want to hear Cardi sound like Cardi. It’s admirable that she wanted to tap into what made Meek’s intro so good, but also feels like she sort’ve does a disservice to herself by trying to emulate that sound so much. I’m completely a fan of when the beat switches it up toward the end though.

“Drip”

Kristin: This isn’t a bad song, but I think I would have appreciated this more on Culture II.

Lawrence: This may be one of my least favourite Cardi B songs. I’d actually like less songs of her with Migos on it. The album would have been just fine without this.

“Bickenhead”

Kristin: Well Lawrence, you were right about the Project Pat sample. At a glance, I was hoping this was the track YG would be on. I’m sold on her flip of the song though. The best part about Cardi is her ability to redefine the labels society forces on her and make them her own. Now everybody’s Instagram caption is going to be “bickenhead,” which is dope because in 2001 that wasn’t the greatest thing for a woman to be called. The true test of a bop for me is if I spend more time singing it than I spend doing my makeup. This is going to pass with flying colours.

Lawrence: LONG LIVE TRIPLE 6 MAFIA. There’s really no way that Cardi could lose here by sampling Project Pat’s “Chickenhead” because what’s continuing to become abundantly clear is that anything produced by DJ Paul and Juicy J will defy generational barriers. I mean, Crunchy Black used to seem like a problem from time to time. But anyway, what Cardi is doing here is perfect because while she didn’t snag La Chat for this song like I wished, her list of ways to “pop the pussy” feels like an ode to another Chat classic in “Slob On My Cat.”

Kristin: We get it, Lawrence. Triple 6 til you die.

“Bodak Yellow”

Lawrence: We all obviously love this song. “Bodak Yellow” dominated the summer. I remember seeing Cardi perform this at Moma PS1 and it was the most congested crowd I’ve ever been a part of. Like, if something would have popped off that day, a minimum of ten people would have gotten trampled. Hearing “Bodak Yellow” in that setting, with that kind of collective excitement is one of my favourite hip-hop moments of all time. Within the context of the album, I like that it comes after “Bickenhead” because it keeps the high energy going, then it immediately shifts gears with “Be Careful.” That shows Cardi’s range.

Kristin: Every time the beat drops, I ask myself “Am I over this song?” Like clockwork, it still catches me the same way as it did the first time I heard it. I was worried that it may not fit well with the rest of the album, but I think it’s the opposite. “Bodak” was really able to set the tone for what we should’ve expected for her debut album, and I think it’s safe to say she’s delivered.

“Be Careful”

Lawrence: When this track first dropped, there was a lot of chatter about how different it is than “Bodak Yellow” but I’m not sure where people developed the notion that Cardi B is only capable of one kind of song. While everyone’s been screaming about their bloody shoes she’s been rapping over New Jack Swing beats and singing in Spanish on dancehall tracks. What’s also good about the song is that it feels like it could have worked during any rap era of the past 25 years. Cardi’s shedding layers of herself to share details of her relationship but also warning that she might not stick around for repeated trauma. Those kinds of songs have been staples for some time.

Kristin: I honestly really love this song. People are saying she shouldn’t be singing on the hook and that she’s offbeat, but honestly that’s apart of what I love about Cardi. Her delivery has always been a little clumsy, which makes it all feel a lot more real for me personally. The same people talking shit are the same people who would praise it if her male counterparts put this song out. If we’re being honest, “Be Careful” is better than A Boogie’s “Get to You” which both borrow from Lauryn Hill’s “Ex-Factor.” She had me at the Belly reference, but most importantly, it feels like New York in the summer. Real New York, not transplant New York.

My concern here though, is the talk about the reference track that was posted shortly after the single dropped. It’s no secret people have ghostwriters but I couldn’t help listen to the rest of the album wondering what she actually wrote. It’s probably also naive of me to think everyone writes everything, but it’s something to consider. Accusations of ghostwriters haven’t hurt Drake and shouldn’t hurt her either. The way her personal life has played out in front of us makes this song feel incredibly intimate, so if it’s true, hearing Pardison Fontaine on the reference track was a little disappointing. I want to believe Offset got her mad enough to the point where these are her words.

“Best Life”

Kristin: I’m stoked she got a Chance feature, but it sounds like he didn’t give his all on this hook. Have that same energy you had on Life of Pablo or any other project your attach your name to. The hook feels a little lazy coming from him, especially if we’re comparing it to his verse, which is as chipper as you get with Chance. When he says, “I work magic, I work magic, I work magic in my life,” I feel Pastor Chance coming back out, putting an anointing on me. If we’re talking about living our best life, let’s have higher energy.

Lawrence: I agree on Chance’s contribution on the hook. That’s especially apparent after the energy Cardi comes in with on her first verse. But, I do enjoy Chance’s verse a lot. Cardi’s tuna-to-TV analogy for “making it” was great but Chance came in with “‘Member my hands had ash like Pompeii,” and changed the game. This song’s value lies in Cardi’s openness about how being in the public eye has affected her. From the self-consciousness about her teeth before getting them fixed, to how meeting Beyonce is a marker of really arriving. Rappers open up about these struggles often but what makes it resonate more here is that we’ve been able to see Cardi take many of the steps that she’s mentioning.

Kristin: I agree. Listening to her say, “I never had a problem showing y’all the real me/Hair when it’s fucked up, crib when it’s filthy.” I can literally pinpoint the moments she looked like she rolled out of bed chatting to her fans, with no fucks given. It’s that transparency that make people really root for her. She’s the antithesis to the perfectly packaged persona people post on socials. We literally watched her grow from a local sensation to BARDI. I love this “Binderella” reference and sort of wish that was her album title.

“I Like It”

Kristin: Haha, Cardi really does search her name on Twitter. She definitely ran that “Yup, they call me Cardi B, I run this shit like cardio” tweet on here. And this is exactly what I meant on the Chance song, J Balvin and Bad Bunny came with energy! Treat it like it’s your song, don’t just give some leftover melodies.

Lawrence: This will be blasted at every party in New York City this summer and I cannot wait.

Kristin: Practicing my bachata as we speak.

“Ring”

Kristin: I just find it funny that people criticised her for singing her own hook on “Be Careful,” suggesting that Kehlani or SZA should’ve done the honour instead… Kehlani is on the hook of this and it’s not nearly as strong of a song. Now what?

Lawrence: This one is fine and I’ve accepted that I will probably be hearing it on the radio all the time.

Kristin: I’m not into it. If we’re going with the ghostwriter theory, I think this is the official “Offset song” but “Be Careful” was the smarter and catchier choice to capitalise on the drama. This is all speculation though.

“Money Bag”

Kristin: This is definitely the closest she’s gotten to something that’s felt similar to “Bodak.” If I had a dollar for every time I’ll see “I said babe, issa snack/He say it’s an entree” on Instagram this summer, my loans would be forgiven. Nodding to Plies and Beyonce in a hook is pretty much the perfect way to make sure the song is a hit on social media, and she knows that. All of her eccentric confessionals on Love & Hip Hop have been preparing us for this moment. She really stretches her voice for that it’s worth here. It’s the perfect amount of extra. Also, money bags in general is always a big mood. OKURR!

Lawrence: When the song first started, I thought I’d be skipping it within the first 30 seconds. But then Cardi hit a gear that took the song to a new level. Like you said, in flow, it does follow the footsteps of “Bodak Yellow” at points. But the range that Cardi spans in energy here pushes it further.

“Bartier Cardi”

Lawrence: I enjoy how ferocious Cardi gets with the flow on this song. It’s always felt like with this one, she had a point to prove and it worked. 21’s tone of voice alone is why his verse isn’t a complete wash but he didn’t bring his best to this one at all.

Kristin: I still enjoy this song and I think it does a good job of keeping the momentum of what could now be considered Cardi’s sound. I actually like 21 on here, regardless of the questionable things he says he does with hot sauce.

“She Bad”

Kristin: YG you were supposed to be on “Bickenhead!” I personally would’ve preferred Yo Gotti on this hook. Cardi’s definitely in her bag here and throwing some subliminals. So I expect this one to be making its rounds with speculation on who they’re aimed for. Of course they could be empty insults, but we know for women in hip-hop it doesn’t work like that. I’m crying at YG’s “Only Birkin, not Dooney & Burke” line. A few people listening just pushed their Dooney collection all the way to the back of their closet.

Lawrence: This is another one out of Three 6 Mafia’s book of flows. Like the majority of songs that came before it, “She Bad” has the potential to be a smash hit – if anything, it will be another mainstay at parties and clubs for the rest of this year. YG has an uncanny ability to make effective hooks while not saying very much. That gift, joined with the production’s tempo and Cardi’s flow make this one worth revisiting.

“Thru Your Phone”

Kristin: This hook is… interesting. Lana Del Rey vibes? But damn, this song is petty as hell. Did she really just say, “I’ma make a bowl of cereal with a teaspoon of bleach/Serve it to you like, here you go nigga bon appetit.” Okay, Eminem. This is the song I want to see a visual for the most. Show me Cardi cutting the tongues out of sneakers and smashing televisions.

Offset, watch your back bruh.

Lawrence: The lesson here is very, extremely clear. Guys: do not cheat. Unless you want bleach cereal.

“I Do”

Kristin: Two queens talking shit. I stan. It’s also cool as hell that we watched this collaboration materialise. The definition of “Twitter, do ya thing.” I sort’ve wish there was more to the album after this, considering “Bodak Yellow” and “Bardier Carti” were played to death. Disclaimer: If your text goes unanswered it’s because SZA and Cardi told me to do it.

Lawrence: I love this song (SZA, sing over more trap please!), but its energy begs for it to be somewhere in the middle of the album. Invasion of Privacy ending on this note makes it feel incomplete. I’m so amped that I’m ready to come down a bit before I dip out. But, in consideration of the album’s title, Cardi delivered. Historically, she’s given us a lot of access into her life on social media. And by her sharing her experiences in the kind of detail that she does, I’m left to interpret it as: “Y’all are already in my business, making speculations, so I might as well just be the one to bare it all. Here is my truth.” Isn’t that what we want from all of our artists? At least, the ones we want to remember? We want an invitation into their innermost feelings – no matter how that may eat away at them – in order for us to be able to feel connected to them.

Lawrence Burney and Kristin Corry are staff writers at Noisey.

This article originally appeared on Noisey US.

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