#no because like. everyone just accepts that Will is halts son it’s so funny but it also makes me sick with joy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunflowerstache · 4 years

Text

Did You Order a Pizza?

Halloween 2020 is filled with lots of surprises for the Styles family

A/N: Hi lovelies! I hope you had. great Halloween and you're feeling alright these days! This is a one shot following the family from my pic Another World, which you can find here! I hope you enjoy it and I cannot wait to hear all your thoughts!! I love y'all!

Word Count: 7.6k

~~~

“And you’re sure he’s back?”

“You heard him on the phone. He’ll be waiting for Jeff so you’ve got plenty of time while he waits for the man to not show up.” Glenne smiled at you from her spot in the driver’s seat. “Although, I think he’ll like who does show up instead.”

Harry had left for Los Angeles so that he could begin filming a new Olivia Wilde film, leaving you and Bella in London. And as much as you’d have loved to join him on such a monumental step in his career from the start, you were unable to travel with him. Not only were you unable because your daughter was still in school at the time, but because of the pandemic that was still going on throughout the world. It prevented for most of the year’s plans to take place, which absolutely crushed Harry. He was looking forward to Love on Tour and showing his fans how much fun this new era was for him, more than you’d seen from him in a long time, but he would always put the safety of his fans before entertainment, so it was an easy choice to postpone. However, no tour meant that he could gladly accept a leading role in a film alongside some of the most well known actors in the industry.

But it only took you a few days after his departure to find out you couldn’t be so far from him. As fate would have it, Bella’s class was turning into online learning once the half term break ended, which meant one of the most important reasons you were still in London had vanished. So, after spending two weeks quarantining and making sure you took all the necessary precautions, both you and Bella got tested and flew to the states with your negative results. From the start, you had told Jeff of your plan and he and Glenne gladly welcomed you into their home once you arrived, wanting to spend time with Bella for a few days after going so long not seeing the toddler. And finally, once you got the negative results of yet another test, you and your daughter were off to stay with Harry.

Jeff had spoken with your boyfriend over FaceTime earlier that morning, feeding Harry some story about needing to solidify some merch designs, and making sure that Harry would be patiently waiting for his manager after he finished filming for the day. But the plan was to have Glenn drive Jeff’s car so he suspected nothing seeing it pull up, and surprise him when it was you and Bella getting out the car instead of the oldest Azoff son.

“I can’t wait.” you groaned out through the grin taking over your face. You bounced in your seat slightly, pressing both hands to your cheeks just thinking about seeing his shocked face when he opened the door expecting Jeff, but seeing you and Bella instead.

“What?” The question was brought up after a soft chuckle was heard from Glenne’s side of the car as soon as you were halted at a stoplight.

“Nothing. It’s just cute how excited you are to see him after being apart for what, a month?”

“27 days.” you whispered, urging yourself to force down a smile. “But who’s counting?”

“You guys have been together nearly a decade, and you still get all flustered when you talk about him.”

The way you and Harry acted around one another was something that was always commented on by people in your inner circle, for that exact reason. Without a doubt, your relationship had gone through some of the toughest times, but that was bound to happen when you’ve been with someone since you were sixteen… and even more likely when every moment of your life was documented to the public. But those tough times never seemed to last, because at the end of the day, Harry was everything you ever wanted and vise versa. He was what you daydreamed about in a partner while growing up. And being with him was like being with the sun. He made you feel loved and cared for, you had more fun with him than anyone else on the planet, and every single day with him felt like a new adventure. As a kid, you’d thought the way people described the love of their life was corny, nothing but a thing of fairy tales, yet that feeling that bloomed inside your chest and tummy every time you thought about Harry told you that it was very real.

“Dunno.” you shrugged, “He’s my person. Even seven and half years later, he still makes me feel like he did on our first date.”

“That what’s got you looking extra glowy or is that just another secret to staying in the honeymoon phase forever?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you replied quickly, finding it hard to keep the giddy feeling that was now bubbling in your lower stomach under control when you turned your head to meet her gaze. She was squinting at you with suspicious eyes, her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek, which forced a laugh to fall from you. “What? I don’t! Just miss him, that’s all. Isn’t that right baby? We just missed daddy loads, huh?” making sure to quickly take the attention away from yourself, you turned as much as you could in your seat to look at Bella in the back.

“Yes! I miss daddy so much!” her little legs kicked against the carseat and her arms lifted high above her head, a huge smile plastered on her face. “I have so many drawings and stickers to show him and Mr. Jeff got new socks!”

“I know, we got them all tucked away nice and safe so you can show him. Do you remember what the plan is when we get there?” you asked her, your breath getting caught in your throat for a moment when the sun shined just right through the rear window. It was a perfect day in LA, sunny and warm and just as the car pulled onto the street you knew was where Harry was staying, the sunlight danced across Bella’s perfect complexion. She was a spitting image of her father, down to the freckles dotting her face, the deep set dimples that never seemed to disappear, and the curls constantly falling in front of her face no matter how hard you tried to keep them tamed. Every now and again you caught a glimpse, sometimes through the kitchen window while she was playing in the backyard and other times while her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she slept on your chest, of just how breathtaking Bella is. What angelic beauty the love between you and Harry had managed to create.

“Yeah mumma!” she smiled, giving you two thumbs up, very clearly excited about getting to see her dad again. “You ‘member my costume, right mumma?”

“Of course I did. Put it in the bag right next to mine.”

“Good. ‘Cause ‘m really ‘cited about it.”

“I know baby. It’s a good one, isn’t it?” you knew Harry would get a kick out of what Bella decided to be for Halloween. She had come to you months ago, actually sat you down in the kitchen and explained what she wanted to do like she was in a little business meeting. And of course as soon as she told you, you had to laugh because it was perfect.

“Yeah.”

Her whisper was the last thing said within the confines of the car before the three of you pulled up in front of a beautiful white house nestled deep in the Hollywood Hills. It was much smaller than the house the pair of you had just sold just blocks away, but everything about it was so much homier. A brick walkway sandwiched between a line of shrubbery and a white stone wall led up to the house, which itself was an odd shape. The very front of the house came up to an asymmetrical point instead of a typical flat roof, and the rest of the house was pushed back slightly, so that none of the face was level, and the house almost seemed cut in half horizontally from the distinct line between white stone bottom and black paneling on the upper level of the home. Finally, a brick downhill driveway, made of the same brick as the walkway, led to an all black garage that sat just below the rest of the home. The small details is what made the building give off such a cozy vibe; a vibrant green front door, plant boxes hanging off a few of the upper windows, a black wooden archway and lanterns surrounding the front door, a few potted plants on the side of the walkway, and the faint golden hues peaking through the closed blinds.

“Cute, huh?” Glenne laughed, putting the car in park and turning fully in her seat to look at you.

“Yeah, it actually really is. Reminds me a bit of our old place.”

“Place in London, right? That’s what I told Jeff.” she said at the same time, looking behind her at Bella while you got out of the car. “You ready to go, tulip?”

“Yes please!”

Her hands were already fumbling with the seat belt by the time you opened her door, the excitement itching at her in preparation for what was to come, but she graciously waited for you to sort her out.

“Thank you mumma.” she muttered casually once you had her unbuckled and lifted into your arms.

“You’re welcome, baby.” the way Bella was the most polite little girl you had ever known never failed to make your heart soar. You and Harry were so proud of the person she was becoming, whether she was that way because she saw how everyone in her life acted or because she was born with the kindest little soul, it didn’t matter. She always made sure the people around her were happy and having fun, constantly reminding people how much she loves them, and trying her hardest to make everyone laugh. It was yet another way she reminded you of Harry; they both could instantly light up a room without even trying. “Just gotta ring the bell, right? Say your line?”

“You got it, mumma!” she smiled brightly, leaning in to give you a quick kiss.

Nearly the instant you put her down, she darted up the brick steps, taking a full pause at each step to be her funny self and jump, with both feet together, up to the next one. As she made her way towards the front door, you took your place leaning against the passenger door of Glenne’s car, nearly doubling over in laughter watching Bella look hysterical lifting up on her very tiptoes in order to reach the unusually high doorbell.

Your breath caught in your throat as you waited for Harry to open the front door. For a minute, you were sure that he had ignored Jeff’s instructions to stay home, but to your relief, the green door finally opened, revealing a very comfortable looking Harry. He was very obviously post shower, his hair visibly wet and sparkling when the porch lights lit up his form, clad in a pair of black basketball shorts and one of his grey Treat People With Kindness hoodies, and nothing else but a tall pair of Nike socks. It was like a scene from a movie, because when he didn’t immediately see Jeff in front of him, Harry looked over towards the driveway quickly like he was being pranked. But within a second, his attention was brought down to Bella, who tugged on the hem of his shorts, her sweet voice barely audible from the distance.

“Did you get a pizza?”

It was comical to watch him just stare at her like she had three heads. You couldn’t blame him, last he knew, both you and Bella were five thousand miles away, so it made sense that his brain was not comprehending the scene in front of him.

“He’s so confused.” Glenne giggled behind you, but her voice seemed like it was muted with how fully your focus was on your boyfriend.

“Hmm.”

Not even a second after your hum of agreement, and as if it was in slow motion, you watched as realization glossed over his features, his green eyes widening and mouth hanging open, and he sank to his knees. It didn’t take him even a second to pull Bella into his chest, winding his arms completely around her tiny frame and cradling her head in his surprisingly ring free hands.

Seeing the two of them together was like looking at two halves of the same soul reconnect. The moment they were in one another’s arms, it was like everything got brighter. Their smiles widened, chuckles more audible - even from such a far distance, and the warmth that typically lived in your chest recently, burned even warmer. You always knew Harry was meant to be a dad, just from how much he talked about it. You knew that he would do his very best to go above and beyond for his child, to make sure they felt loved and secure and treasured. But hearing about it and seeing it are completely different. Seeing nothing but total adoration on his face whenever he looked at your daughter made you fall in love with him all over again.

“Mumma!” Bella’s shouted, snapping you out of the daze you had slipped into while watching the moment before you. Both Harry and Bella were now looking at you from the doorway, her head resting on her father’s shoulder as he held her in one arm, their faces totally engulfed with smiles. “C’mere Mumma!”

“Yeah mumma.” Harry finally spoke up, his voice carrying down the pathway right to where you were standing.”C’mere.” Just seeing him standing there, smiling so brightly and holding his free arm out telling you he was waiting for a hug, was enough to make you break out in a smile and push off the car, dashing up the steps.

His chest was firm when you crashed into it, much firmer than when you hugged him goodbye in the airport a few weeks ago, and you felt as if you head placement on his chest was different - like he’d grown since you last saw him. Or maybe he hadn’t changed at all but your mind was finally coming out of a month long fog that it slipped in without him, getting readjusted to being in his arms.

“Hi sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, peppering kisses all along your hairline and temple like he physically couldn’t leave an inch of the side of your face untouched.

“Hi baby.”

“What’re you doing here?” he asked, pure wonder in his tone as he nudged the side of your face with his chin, making you lift your head from his chest and look at him. “I just talked to you this morning, said you were going to see your parents before everything got locked down again.”

“Yeah, well. I lied.” you smiled, leaning in to press kiss after kiss to his lips, trying your best to control the insane happiness rushing through your veins. Your response seemed to be enough for him, because he didn’t ask another question wondering why you were in LA. Which was good for you because your plan wasn’t to explain everything on the front porch.

The three of you stayed frozen in that same position, Harry’s arm so tight around you that your face was completely buried in his hoodie, and the other arm holding Bella, forming a makeshift group hug, not bothering to worry about anyone seeing you or anything going on past the wooden archway. Because nothing else mattered. Not when you were with the two people who made your world spin.

“Daddy.” Bella’s timid voice finally broke you apart, both you and Harry leaning back a bit so that you could put your full attention on the little girl in his arms.

“Yes lovie?”

“I lied too.”

“What did you lie about?”

She lifted her head from his shoulder in order to look at him with a very concerned expression, like she felt deeply sorry for whatever she was about to say to him. “I don’t have a pizza. ‘M sorry. Mumma told me it was funny.”

“Oh did she now?” Harry mocked in offence, looking back at you and raising his eyebrows.

“Mhm. But it wasn’t, ‘cause we don’t have any.”

“That’s right. But sometimes it’s okay to say something silly like that and not feel bad as long as it’s not something to hurt anyone, right? And daddy isn’t mad. How about you mumma?” Harry looked to you, trying not to smile at how adorable Bella was about the little fib. You shook your head.

“Not at all.”

“And what about you, B.B? Are you sad you told daddy there was pizza?”

She contemplated it for a bit, scrunching her nose up - again, just like her father - and looking around like the answer would be hanging in the air somewhere. “Yeah.” she said matter of factly. “But ‘cause I want pizza. And we don’t have any.”

Both you and Harry couldn’t help the laughs that fell from your lips, wasting no time before leaning forward to press a kiss to Bella’s forehead. “How about we get some then?” he asked against her skin, glancing at you when saying his next bit. “We’ll get your bags from the car and order one?”

“Oh god!” you yelled, turning around to face the car from which you’d just ran from. “Completely forgot Glenne was sitting in there! She’s probably been texting Jeff about how annoying we are.”

“Annoyingly adorable, yeah.”

“Think she’d fight you on that one. Nearly made her sick on the drive here with how excited I was to see you.” your laugh was muffled as Harry wrapped his arm back around your neck, dragging you in a headlock down the first step towards the car. Bella, knowing that it was time to bring in the bags, wiggled out of Harry’s grasp and sprinted down the steps ahead of you, right into the arms of a now out and about Glenne.

“Everything’s alright?” Harry’s voice was laced with concern now that your little one was out of ear shot. You both tried your hardest to never have any sort of talk about negative things around her, whether that be an argument or things going on in life, because she should never have to be put through the stress of that. Most of the time you just waited until she was asleep to talk about those things, but sometimes it meant going into different rooms and closing the doors.

“Hmm?”

“Everything’s alright, right? You didn’t come all the way out here because something’s wrong, did you?” quickly forgotten was your position in a headlock, and instead, Harry kept his arm around your neck, your body fitting perfectly tucked into his side. You walked step by step to meet your friend and daughter, who already started pulling suitcases out of the boot.

You took a peek up to him, noticing he was already glancing down at you, his eyes roaming all over your face to look for any sign of distress that he may have missed when he first saw you. But you had none to offer him. “Yeah baby, everything’s okay. Just needed to be with you.”

“Swear? You’d tell me if there was something?”

“Of course I would. Always.”

“Alright, professor. But if I find out you were hiding something, I’ll have to write a diss track.”

“Oh will you now?”

“Mhm. Thems the rules.”

Glenne spent a bit of time with the three of you before heading off, telling you to enjoy your time together and even throwing in a little joke about maybe even making a new baby since she missed how little Bella used to be. The comment made your ears warm and a weird feeling flutter through your stomach, but she gave you no time to respond before she shuffled out the door.

Since arriving at Harry’s, Bella practically refused to leave his arms, wanting to be as close to him as possible until she really realized that no one was going anywhere for quite a bit. And her thoughts must have quieted enough because not even twenty minutes after Glenne walked out the front door, Bella was running through the house towards one of the extra rooms she’d be sleeping in.

“Mumma! Come help me! We gotta show daddy!” her already soft voice was even soft as she yelled from the second floor, her request forcing you to get up from the sofa.

“What are we showing me?”

“She’s really proud of her Halloween costume this year. Spent weeks planning it out, you know?”

“I know. She wouldn’t budge anytime I asked her. Very secretive that one.”

“Hmm, wonder where she gets that from?” you sang while walking up the stairs, letting out a snort when you saw him lift a middle finger to you from his position still on the sofa, not even bothering to turn around to look at you as you continued towards your daughter.

“Alright baby, I’m here! Where do you want me?” you clapped, entering Bella’s room in a way that mimicked that of Harry Lambert, something that you knew she’d recognize right away from the amount of times she’s seen her parents being helped by the stylist.

“Over here, mumma. Gotta help me button!” she had already rid herself of the clothes she’d been wearing on the drive to Harry’s, the green long sleeve shirt and jeans laid in a crumpled mess at the foot of the bed while she stood in just her knickers, searching through the small suitcase on her bed for all the pieces to her costume.

You took a seat on the floor next to where she was standing, watching her every move as she finally found everything she was looking for. Her tongue stuck out while she took the fabric between her fingers and gently held it in her hands - taking a moment to look at it in awe - before turning and holding it out to you, expectantly.

“Gotta be careful with it, mumma.”

“Oh I know. They’re really delicate, aren’t they?”

“Mhm. Reedy told me to be gentle with ‘em ‘cause they were made with extra love so they’re extra soft.”

“Oh that’s perfect! They’ll be on for quite a while so it’s good that it’s all comfortable.”

“Yep.”

You look notice of how long her hair had grown while zipping up the back of her shirt, the curls continuously falling against your fingers despite being held over her shoulder by Bella. You knew well enough even before she was born that she was going to have gorgeous hair, all it took was one look at the locks cascading from her father to tell you that, but it seemed to grow even more mesmerizing by the day. It fell loose past her shoulders every day, always managing to fall in front of her eyes while she was sprawled out on the floor playing. Even though you did enjoy how cute she looked pushing the crazy curls out of her face while her little tongue stuck out, you knew it was time for a trim soon.

“Are you wanting a haircut soon?” you asked while zipping her pants as well.

“Hmm, I don’t think so. I like it long.”

“How about we see if we can get rid of some of these dry bits at least?”

Bella thought about it for a bit, picking at her nails while mulling over the idea of going back to the salon. “Yeah, I think that’s fine.”

“Alright, we’ll see about making an appointment when we get back home. Gives you some time to think it over.”

“Okay! Y’almost done mumma? ‘M excited.” she bounced in place, trying her best not to move so that you could finish getting her ready as fast as possible.

“All set!” you checked, reaching up to grab her hair out of her grasp and let it fall down her back. “Just put the jacket on and you’re all set to show daddy.”

“He’s gonna be so happy I know it!” she squealed, carefully picking up and putting on the final part to her costume and turning to look in the floor length mirror. Bella didn’t say anything for a minute, taking the time to examine herself in the mirror. She smoothed the fabric covering her torso, lifted her feet in order to see the little pair of boots, and had one of the largest smiles you’d ever seen on her. “I look so good!”

“You do, lovie! Award winning I’d say.”

“Thank you for helping! Lets go!!” she yelled, darting towards the door and only stopping at the top of the stairs when you called for her, reminding her to be careful by the steps. The two of you quickly discussed your plan before departing ways, leaving Bella a bouncing mess just above you as you walked down to the light switch at the bottom of the steps.

Flicking all the lights off, you cleared your throat and waited for Harry, who had gotten up off the sofa upon hearing your descending footsteps and was now leaning against the back of the furniture, his bum resting just on top of the back, to give you his full attention. Although the lights were off, it was still early enough in the evening that light showed through the windows, allowing you to see his face and make sure Bella got down the stairs safely.

“You all know him as 2013’s Teen Choice Male Hottie -”

“Also 2016.” Harry cut in, trying and failing to stifle his chuckle

“Also 2016’s” you added, “and lead roles in Award Winning pictures such as This Is Us and iCarly.” at this point, it was obvious what was happening and you could tell Harry was fully on board with what was about to walk down the stairs. But he was also so excited. He no longer was leaning against the sofa, but now standing upright and his hands were pressed together in a praying position in front of his mouth. “Introducing, the incredibly talented, musically gifted, style icon of the decade, Mr. Harry Edward Styles!”

The second you saw that Bella made it safely to the ground next to you, you flicked on the dim lights that just illuminated the staircase, showering your daughter in the closest thing you could get to a spotlight. She was standing in Harry’s signature position; bent forward slightly with one hand held in a peace sign while the other dangled loosely by her side and mouth open wide. Harris Reed had taken the time to make Bella a nearly exact replica of the white and black floral suit Harry had worn to the 2015 AMA’s - the suit that really started it all when it came to Styles’ fashion. Her curls were hanging past her shoulders just like Harry’s were at the time, and for good measure, she even lifted her hand to push some out of her face exactly like he used to.

She was a spitting image of Harry. And he loved it.

“Oh my god! You’re kidding! You look fantastic! Gonna put me out of a job! I won’t even need to go on stage anymore. This is amazing!” he screeched, rushing forwards and couching down in front of his daughter. He took in every last detail of the outfit; how the under shirt had buttons but did not open from the front (something Harris thought would be easier for Bella to get in and out of), how the floral detail was exactly the same as the one he had hanging in his closet back home (Reed had asked Alessandro for the fabric), and how even the shoes were a near replica.

“Mhm. I can sing next time. I’ll go up and sing to your friends and you can sit and watch and talk to Mitchy.” she nodded, taking a step back and belting out ‘You’re so Golden!’ “See? Like that!”

Harry beamed. “Absolutely! Give me a nice break every now and again, very thoughtful. We’ll just have to change your bedtime and it’s all set!”

“You like it, daddy?” she asked, her eyes wide as she moved right in front of Harry, her hands grasping the hood of his hoodie and she looked directly into his eyes.

“I love it - and you - more than there are stars in the sky!” Harry responded without hesitation, grabbing her and lifting her into his arms, swinging Bella around quickly enough to let a few giggles. “Thank you very much, beautiful, it makes me very happy.”

“Can’t believe you wanted to be your smelly old dad.” he joked when she pushed against his chest to look at him, “See me everyday, why’d you wanna dress up like me too?

“‘Cause you dress the best, daddy!”

“Ohhhh hear that, love?” he turned to look directly at you, Bella now hiding her face in her hands in embarrassment on saying her dad dressed better than her mum. “I’m the best dressed.” Harry stuck his tongue out at you.

The reaction from Harry was everything Bella was expecting and more. So much so that she could no longer fight the exhaustion of the hectic day any longer. She barely made it five minutes in Harry’s arms before finally passing out. In the coming December, she’d be turning five and you were trying to start and wean her off of taking long naps, but after such an energetic day you welcomed the time for her to rest. She put up a fight getting out of Harry’s arms, the arm she had shoved into Harry’s hood in order to thread her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, tightened each time he tried to pull her away to lay her in bed. Like even in her unconscious state she wanted to know that seeing Harry again wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

It was heavenly to be back with Harry. Even though you had only been apart for such a short amount of time, there was so much to catch up on, and you would never get tired of hearing about everything going on in his life.

“And they used this stuff called Dermacol, and I swear, she swiped over it once and the anchor was gone. Bloody insane seeing it all bare. Hasn’t been that year in years.” Harry laughed, finishing his story of how his first few days on set had gone, the two of you laying in his bed while you waited for the pizza you ordered while he put Bella down for a nap.

“Don’t wash it off tomorrow. I want to see.” you tilted your head back so that it was resting on Harry’s shoulder, in order to look at him. He was sitting behind you, his back pressed against the headboard while you were nestled between his legs, enjoying the feeling of being so close to him again. “Forget what you look like without any ink.”

“Like them though, right?”

“Of course I do. Think they’re very hot.”

He didn’t say anything for a bit, just let his fingers dance up and down your arms, clearly lost in thought. “I wish you could come to set. See everything and everyone.” he finally spoke.

“I know. I just don’t want to chance anything you know? We just traveled and I know we got tested, but I don’t want to unknowingly bring anything to anyone. Maybe soon, once we’ve been here for a bit. But for now, I’d rather just hear all your stories and FaceTime than anything happen to anyone.”

“What time is your call time tomorrow?” you added when he only hummed in response.

“6:45. Car will probably come by around 6 and I should be back near 2. Have a bit of a short day tomorrow.”

“No rush.”

“Yes rush. I wanna be with you both. Missed you loads, ya know? Only gone for a few weeks but I was going mad. Don’t think we should separate for a while.” his voice was soft as his neck strained forward in order to press loving kisses to the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder.

Since the moment you met Harry a decade ago, it was obvious he always knew what to say. He had a knack for spewing out the words you most needed to hear exactly when you needed to hear them. Whether it was comforting your stage fright, in an argument about tv or film characters, helping you pick out outfits, discussing your relationship, or talking about the future, you both seemed to be on the same wavelength. It made life with him so much easier, because you knew that he understood you. You knew that no matter what happened, he would support you and love you. And that’s all you needed.

So you decided finally, after the pit of anxiety in your stomach grew and grew all day, that it was finally time.

“Pretty good you feel that way. ‘Cause I wasn’t exactly sure how to tell you that you’re kind of stuck with me. At least for another fourteen years.”

“Hmm. Want more than that.”

Taking a deep breath, hands shaking and mind running a mile a minute, you asked; “How about another eighteen after that?”

But your nerves were all for nothing because the comment flew right over Harry’s head. Completely missed the point of why you used that specific amount of time and was more focused on giving your middle a tight squeeze - his arms moving from their place at your side to around your stomach.

“Mhm. Even longer than that.”

The words brought an image to mind, one you found yourself thinking about a lot the last couple weeks. One of you and Harry sitting in the living room in your home, talking to your grown children while your grandchildren ran around you happily, doing their best to animatedly explain ways of the world you just couldn’t comprehend. And the pure glee you felt being surrounded by such a beautiful family, one that you created with Harry. But you knew it wasn’t just some fantasy you would dream about. It was something that you would one day get to experience, and that excitement pushed you over the edge.

“You’re stuck with me forever, baby.” you hummed, sinking further into his hold. “But for five seconds, I need you to leave me so you can grab me a Tums.” the anxiety nerves reared their head yet again, knowing there was no missing the punchline this time.

Concern instantly flooded his voice, taking you by the shoulders and moving you away from his chest and to the right so he could look at your face. “Why? You feeling alright? What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t help but simple sweetly at his concern, lifting a hand to rest it on his smoothly clean shaven cheek. “Yeah. You know how I get after flying. Do you mind just grabbing the Tums from my bag?” you asked again, hoping he couldn’t hear or feel the uptick in your breathing.

“You mean one of the nine hundred bags you brought?” Harry joked but still carefully slid out from behind you in order to get whatever you needed.

“Hey, we’re gonna be here a while. I need options.” Because of Covid, the UK was heading into yet another lockdown at the start of November, lasting until the first week of December so for now, so for now, you knew you and Bella would be spending at least a month with Harry in Los Angeles.

“Can take any of my clothes.” he grinned, turning around to face the bed again and bent down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Y’know I love when you wear my clothes.”

“Oi! Say that again but let me record it! If that’s the case, I never want to hear you complain about missing clothes ever again!”

“I said I like you wearing them, not keeping them hidden away for me to find three years later.” he laughed at the memory of his favorite blue hawaiian shirt going missing after getting back from Jamaica, only for it to be found in the back of your closet when moving a few months ago. His voice got quieter the farther he walked from the bed, the confines of the walk in closet filled with his clothes muffling the words towards the end of his sentence.

“Alright, but remember how excited you were to find it after so long? Like Christmas in the summer!”

“‘S’that what’s gonna start happening? You just stealing things I haven’t looked at in years and regifting them?”

“Lord knows you don’t need any more things laying around. Probably wouldn’t even notice anything being gone.” it was true. Over the years, Harry had gathered a very large collection of… things. Everything from clothes to lockets to key cards from hotels, and being in the career he is, he can afford to have it all. But even you had to say he had more than he knew what to do with most of the time, to which he always had some sort of rebuttal for.

But this time, it never came.

This time, you were met with silence from inside the closet, and you had no control over the way your hands began shaking. There were so many different kinds of silence; one of anger, of shock, nervousness, confusion, but any of those were a rarity when it came to Harry. He was someone who always had something to say, despite the emotions running through him. Silence was never really his thing, hell he even said so in a song, so the ideas of what could be running through his head started to eat you alive.

After waiting a few minutes and still receiving no sound of life from the smaller room, you began to get worried. Obviously nothing had happened to him while you were sitting feet away, but what was happening in there? Did he have a heart attack as soon as saw what you had laid out on top of your suitcase when he was ordering food? Did he fall and hit his head? Was he trying to find a good way to break up with you? No, he wouldn’t do that, you knew he wouldn’t do that. But before you could fully get off of the bed to check on him, he slowly sauntered out of the room, staring down at the piece of black fabric gripped tightly in his hands, and you halted in your spot - sitting up right on the side of his bed with your feet dangling off the side.

“Wha - what is this?” his whisper was so unbelievably low, you were surprised you could make out any of the words.

“What do you think it is?” you replied, your voice equally as loud so not to spook him while he was in such a clear state of shock.

“I - I don’t know.”

He still had taken his eyes off of the material in his hands, looking at it like it held every secret unknown to man somewhere within its seams.

“I think you do know.”

Finally, Harry lifted his head in order to look at you. And you felt your eyes water as soon as he did. The rims of his eyes and nose were a deep red, the kind of red you get when trying desperately to hold in sobs. His eyes were a brighter shade of green as more and more tears obstructed his vision, and now that you looked at him properly, his entire body seemed to be shaking.

“If this is a joke, it’s really fucking mean.” he choked out, putting all of his effort into holding back his cries. “Please don’t joke about this.”

As hard as he was trying not to let his tears flow, you were beyond the point of no return. Your cheeks were stained with tears, old dried ones leaving tracks for the new ones to flow freely down, and the lump in your throat prevented you from speaking as loud and confidently as you would have liked.

“It’s not a joke, Harry.” you shook your head, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands.

“No?”

“No.”

Harry went back to not saying anything, glancing between you and the black in his hand, not knowing which held more important information. You could see the inner struggle he was having trying to comprehend what was happening, and you wanted to get up and yell it to him. But he needed to go through whatever emotions he needed to, at his own pace.

So you waited for him to do just that.

“So you - you’re pregnant?” he finally sighed, the question making the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly that you would have missed it if you weren’t watching every inch of his face like a hawk. Holding back his tears was long gone as they now flowed down his cleanly shaven cheeks.

“I’m pregnant.” you smiled, the words coming out in one whoosh of air.

So fast that you didn’t understand how he did it, the black shirt - that at first glance was a replica of the logo for the film The Godfather, but when taking a double take, could be found to read The Twinfather instead - was laying in a pile on the floor in front of the closet door and Harry was laying on top of you. Now on your back with Harry hovering above you, both of his forearms on either side of your head, you could fully see the overwhelming joy swimming in his eyes. The last time you had seen this exact look was the day Bella was born. Like within his mind, he was watching the entire world unfold with endless possibilities and unfathomable love.

Harry didn’t let you say anything before he was pressing kisses to your lips, both of your tears making the experience feel a bit slippery as they blended together on your skin. But nothing could make the moment anything less than perfect. Harry’s warmth covered you like a blanket, completely consuming you within the personal bubble that had formed around you on the bed. His lips moved against your with determination, but also care and gratitude, the vaguely strawberry flavored lip balm he was wearing smeared against your own lips, letting the memory of this moment linger for hours to come.

“You’re really pregnant?” Harry asked, his excitement taking over once he pulled back from the kiss.

“Yeah baby,’m pregnant.”

“And is it? It’s - it’s twins? Are you sure? How do you know?” although you knew he would always be there with and for you during all of this, it was reassuring to see him be so ecstatic about the new addition to your family.

“When B and I went to get our Covid tests, the lady asked me if there was a chance I could be pregnant, and - and I couldn’t give her a confident no. So I called Dr. Kelter to see if I could get an appointment before we left and she took me the same day.” your smile grew as you watched him hold on to your every word, wanting to know every single detail you had to give him.

“And she told you it was twins?”

“Yeah. Said she could see them both right away since they can see twins so early. Said ‘m about eleven weeks.” the tears returned to your eyes when you thought about being pregnant again, how much your life was going to change and the excitement that was about to be brought into your lives.

Obviously Harry was feeling the same before he let out another sob, this time his upper half falling onto your chest and burying his face in your neck, his lower body seeming to unconsciously stay away from crushing your belly.

“I love you so fucking much.” he whispered, and you could feel the ever so gentle peck of his lips against your skin. “So fucking much.”

“I love you, Harry.” you whispered back.

“Who knows?” he asked, undoubtedly thinking back to when you were pregnant with Bella and everyone in your lives seemed to know before he did. Something you regretted, but was necessary at the time.

“No one. Just you and me. Want to do everything with you this time.” not wanting to ruin the moment, but also wanting to be realistic for a moment in your clouded minds, you took a second to figure out how to say the concerns that were rushing through your mind at a mile a minute. “I know things are crazy right now and the world is scary and we’re both so busy, but we said if it happened, it happened.”

Harry was pushed up on his forearm in an instant, his other hand cupping your cheek in order to drag your attention to him. He was positively glowing. How only a second ago he was standing pale faced in the closet doorway was beyond you, because now, it was like the sun shined behind his irises.

“I have never been happier in my entire life. We’ll figure it all out together. Like we always do.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb #another world imagine #aw-inspo #harry styles fanfiction #1dff

716 notes · View notes

foxghost · 3 years

Text

Joyful Reunion, Chapter 103

Translator: foxghost @foxghost tumblr/ko-fi1 Beta: meet-me-in-oblivion @meet-me-in-oblivion tumblr Original by 非天夜翔 Fei Tian Ye Xiang Masterpost | Characters, Maps & Other Reference Index

Book 3, Chapter 23 (Part 2)

Through early spring, the last bout of falling leaves flies through the Jiangzhou palace; tenderly yellow shells which used to wrap themselves around young buds have shaken loose from their branches with the lightest of touch from a breeze, and scatters all over the ground. It is a time of warmth interspersed with bursts of cold, budding scenery infused with a sense of melancholy.

“Please remove your sword, my lord.” A Black Armours bodyguard is blocking Wu Du’s way.

“I have special permission from the late emperor as well as the current crown prince to wear my sword in the palace.”

The two are at an impasse. “According to the general’s orders, unless permission is granted by the reigning emperor, no one is allowed to wear their sword upon entering the palace. The meeting with the Mongolian envoy last time was an exemption.”

“Let him go inside,” Xie You’s voice says.

The guard, saved from a round of vomiting and diarrhea, lets Wu Du inside. Xie You looks at Wu Du with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, while Wu Du’s mouth curls into the slightest smile as he realises that Xie You has already noticed the plans set into motion by Duan Ling. The Mongolian envoy must have also made a visit to him.

“Came to meet His Majesty?” Xie You asks.

“Just came back from meeting His Majesty?” Wu Du says, chilly.

It’s question marks from both of them, neither answering their questions, each stepping aside to let the other pass.

Wu Du’s cape is fastened all the way to his collar with the Lieguangjian hidden beneath his cape, and by the time he arrives Zheng Yan has already announced his presence. Thus the Li Yanqiu sitting within calls for him, “Wu Du? Come on in.”

Li Yanqiu is flipping through memorials regarding the spring sowing, and on top of his desk is an imperial decree, already written.

“We don’t yet know where the Zhenshanhe is,” Li Yanqiu says. “So you can’t bring the sword with you to investigate this matter in my stead, but it’s more or less the same when you have an imperial decree written by my hand.”

“Certainly,” Wu Du replies. He takes the order and immediately tries to leave.

Li Yanqiu stops him by saying, “Wait a moment. I have something to ask you.”

Zheng Yan tactfully goes outside to stand guard outside the door. Wu Du gives Zheng Yan a look, as he’s just now wondering how come Zheng Yan is at the emperor’s side one moment and off to the Eastern Palace the next? It can’t be that the crown prince can’t stand him?

Li Yanqiu cuts to the chase just as Wu Du had expected him to. “Once this whole business is over and done with, come work in the palace. You’ve worked for the late emperor before, so we can give you a title of the fourth rank, one where you can keep wearing your sword here and serve at the crown prince’s side. You’ll supervise the crown prince, so he’ll not pass the time idly by; in several years, if you pass your reviews without any fault, you’ll be appointed the Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent.”

Though Junior Guardian is an empty title, it’s still a title that makes him an official of the second rank — he’ll be suddenly placed above most officials and made peers with Xie You.

No wonder Xie You made that face when he saw him earlier.

Li Yanqiu waits for ages, but he doesn’t see Wu Du trembling with emotion or fall to his knees in tears to thank His Majesty’s imperial grace. He raises his eyes to take a look, thinking Wu Du may be so moved he can’t even speak, but to Li Yanqiu’s surprise, Wu Du is hesitating for a moment before he puts one fist in hand and bows.

“I have failed at fulfilling the late emperor’s last wishes,” Wu Du replies. “I dare not accept this order.”

Li Yanqiu is momentarily speechless.

“The crown prince was the one who demanded you join the Eastern Palace,” Li Yanqiu says coolly. If Zheng Yan is here right now, he’d notice that Li Yanqiu is already furious and would have told Wu Du to accept for now and not be so pigheaded.

“I’m a disagreeable man and fear my service may run counter to Your Majesty’s wishes. I dare not accept this order.”

Li Yanqiu sets his brush down, watching Wu Du; sunlight slants in through the window, casting a ray of light onto Wu Du’s face. Li Yanqiu is utterly flabbergasted, however — what on earth has given him the gall to refuse?

But Li Yanqiu suddenly starts to laugh. “Wu Du … oh Wu Du.”

Wu Du replies, “Your Majesty.”

Li Yanqiu studies Wu Du carefully, and his tone is quite cordial, “Out of the four of you, the only one I can’t understand is you.”

“I am devoted to Your Majesty,” Wu Du says, “I may not be any good at expressing oneself, but my loyalty to Your Majesty is undeniable.”

“Second rank first class is too far beneath you,” Li Yanqiu says solemnly, “with your martial arts skills and the ability to strategise, you should have been made Senior Guardian to begin with, but unfortunately that’s Wuluohou Mu’s position. Since you’re so determined not to join the Eastern Palace, then go off and be free then, free as a bird.”

At the end of that sentence, something flies through the air and hits Wu Du on the head. Ink poured over his face — what hit him was the ink stone. With Wu Du’s skills, he could have easily dodged out of the way before Li Yanqiu even started the throw, but Wu Du didn’t dodge, and didn’t get out of the way — he simply endured the blow.

“Get back to work then,” Li Yanqiu says, smiling. “Wu Du, with such willpower, you’re sure to become a major general that contributes greatly to Great Chen’s recovery.”

Wu Du reaches up to wipe his face. His neck too, is covered in ink, dripping down along his collar. Bending over, Wu Du picks up the ink stone and respectfully places it back onto the imperial desk with both hands, making sure it’s set down properly before he withdraws from the study.

Seeing Wu Du with half his face covered in ink as though he’s wearing a mask, Zheng Yan doubles up in laughter. But from inside the room, Li Yanqiu is saying, “Zheng Yan.”

Zheng Yan’s expression freezes and he quickly steps back into the imperial study.

Before he does anything else, Wu Du heads to the palace gardens. He scoops up some water from the pond and washes his face. Shortly afterwards, there are footsteps approaching him from behind.

“Let’s put a halt on the plan for several days.” Lang Junxia’s voice rings out behind him. “There are some things I haven’t been able to make clear yet.”

“We’re going to halt just because you say so?” Wu Du says coldly.

Lang Junxia narrows his eyes and looks Wu Du up and down, unsure why his face is covered in ink; neither does he understand why Wu Du’s face is covered in ink and he’s somehow still so arrogant.

Wu Du examines his reflection in the pool once he finishes washing his face. Lang Junxia kindly reminds him, “Your neck isn’t clean yet.”

Wu Du can but rub his neck down with more water. “I’ll give you another three days.”

Lang Junxia says no more and turns to go. Wu Du checks himself against the water some more before he leaves himself.

Wu Du had thought he’d gotten himself quite clean by the time he got home, but he’s met with Duan Ling’s riotous laughter anyway.

A pond is no mirror after all, so it doesn’t give a very good reflection. Wu Du has washed himself into a calico, standing in the courtyard beneath a shining spring sun.

“Hahahahaha—” Duan Ling never expected for Wu Du to come back looking like this, since it’s entirely disconnected from his image from when he left this morning. Astonishment and the farcical sight of him have Duan Ling laughing as though he’s been dosed with a laughing drug, collapsing onto the table with laughter.

Wu Du can’t help but laugh as well. "I didn’t get it all off?’ And as he says this, he wipes his hand over his face again.

“Hahaha—” Duan Ling is close to having a seizure from laughing. They laugh face to face for a bit before Duan Ling says to him while still gasping, “How did you manage to end up looking like that?”

Wu Du wants to make Duan Ling laugh some more, and so he says, “I was walking along and a breeze blew a sheet of paper over onto my face, and the ink hasn’t dried yet. The ink just dripped all the way down.”

This explanation makes Duan Ling break out in a second round of laughter, he just finds it so silly. He struggles to crawl over to the kettle as he laughs so he can boil some water for Wu Du to wash his face with.

The more Wu Du thinks about it the more funny it seems; when he looks at Duan Ling he can’t help wanting to make him laugh more. If this hit he’s taken can manage to make him laugh for so long, then it’s totally worth it.

“How come it’s inside your clothes too?” Duan Ling says, surprised, “it’s soaked right through!”

Wu Du strips himself down to the waist, and grabs some soap locust so he can scrub himself down outside. Duan Ling takes his outer robe and the cape, and when he notices everything is covered in ink, he takes the clothes out to the back courtyard for laundering.

“What on earth happened? Were you hit by an ink stone?”

Wu Du is about to answer him when a servant comes to the door summoning him to a meeting with Chancellor Mu. Duan Ling runs out after him, but Wu Du signals that he should wait at home. He grabs the one clean robe nearest at hand and walks quickly out of the house to see Mu Kuangda.

Mu Kuangda has been so busy lately that he can barely spare any time for his own son, but now he’s sent everyone else away to meet with Wu Du. Even Chang Liujun isn’t present.

Mu Kuangda steeps a pot of tea for himself, pouring Wu Du a cup.

“To have the gall to refuse even a position like Junior Guardian to the Heir Apparent,” Mu Kuangda says deliberately, “What on earth could you be so scrupulous about? Master Chang Pin did say that you don’t care about anyone in this estate, that in your eyes there is no one but Wang Shan. It’s only since his arrival that you’ve gained a sense of propriety, and started doing something with your life.”

Wu Du doesn’t answer him. He picks up the teacup and takes a sip of tea.

“I remember that, when I led you out of the Celestial Prison,” Mu Kuangda says casually, as though that wasn’t a big deal at all, “this is not what you promised me. If you’ve anything you want to say, go ahead and tell me.”

Wu Du gives this some thought. “The imperial court’s filled with all kinds of people, good and bad. I don’t want to be there.”

“Is that the real reason? It clearly isn’t.”

“Things are rather good the way they are.”

“What’s rather good?”

Wu Du finishes his tea and says to Mu Kuangda, “Worldly affairs can change in an instant, and the hearts of men are hard to predict. Sometimes what changes isn’t the political situation but one’s own heart, and what one worries about isn’t other people, but one’s own self. I just want to stay here in the estate and remain at Shan’er’s side. You can call me unambitious if you’d like, or perhaps say that I don’t know how to take the initiative to advance my career, but I’m satisfied with the life I’m leading now.”

The study falls suddenly quiet. Of course Mu Kuangda understands what Wu Du means; with those words he’s managed to close off every last shred of reasoning — for the only variable is Wu Du himself. Can he guarantee that he’ll remain loyal to Mu Kuangda forever once he’s joined the Eastern Palace? Would he still stay true to his promise to the Mus even if Mu Kuangda opposes the crown prince?

Can money buy a person’s devotion? If a thousand taels of silver isn’t enough, what about ten thousand? Maybe he’ll walk farther and farther from the Mus, and that’s not something Mu Kuangda wants to see happen either.

“You may be satisfied, but Wang Shan may not necessarily be satisfied. Wu Du, you have to think this through. You won’t marry, but if Wang Shan joins the imperial court and becomes an official, he will get married. What are you going to do with yourself then?”

“With one’s time on earth, even if happiness only lasts an instant, it is still a good thing to have. What he does, what he chooses — that has nothing to do with my decision.”

Mu Kuangda lets out a sigh. “Never mind. I should have known that this is the kind of person you are. I thought you have changed a lot recently, but I never could have imagined that ever since the day you arrived, you’ve never changed at all.”

And so Wu Du puts a hand in his fist, salutes to Mu Kuangda, and withdraws from the room.

By the time he gets back to the courtyard house, Duan Ling is already hanging up their freshly laundered clothes. He turns to look at Wu Du. “Back so soon?”

Wu Du stares at Duan Ling, and smiles at him without a word.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing at all.” Wu Du walks over and sits down in the room, his eyes not leaving Duan Ling the whole time.

Duan Ling keeps feeling that something is up with Wu Du today. He asks probingly, “Did you get the handwritten imperial order?”

Wu Du thinks for a moment. “I have it, we can mobilise the Shadow Guard, but we’re not in a hurry. Let’s wait until you finish with the metropolitan exams first.”

Duan Ling nods, but he can’t help but keep looking at Wu Du. At this very moment, he’s feeling extremely uneasy; these are the last three days before his years of school life come to an end, and it’ll be where the next portion of his life begins. Once the metropolitan exams are over, if he isn’t on the list of passing examinees, his only option is to join the Mu estate and become an on-demand adviser.

He’ll be just like Chang Pin. His compensation may be decent, but he’ll accomplish nothing in his own name, and nearly all of his life will be spent abroad.

Outside, Wu Du starts playing a song on his flute, and Duan Ling’s heart gradually settles again.

“If I pass the exams,” Duan Ling says suddenly, “can you promise me one thing?”

Wu Du sets his flute down and glances into the room.

“What is it?”

“I’ll tell you when the time comes.”

And so Wu Du gives him a nod, and Duan Ling feels as though he’s been given a promise.

If he brings up his request that he wants to do … that with Wu Du, will Wu Du agree to it?

I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎

#相見歡 #fei tian ye xiang #joyful reunion #xiang jian huan #fox translates things

35 notes · View notes

thebigqueer · 3 years

Text

Solangelo - "I Will Follow You into the Dark" - One-Shot

Summary: Will and Nico discuss their upcoming trip to Tartarus and argue about it.

Word Count: 2166

TW: Implied Homophobia (super small, though) SPOILERS: The Burning Maze, Tower of Nero

Read on AO3

It’s been a shaky morning, to say the least.

Will and Nico had to get up early to go find a gift for the Trogs, and it really was no easy hassle for either of them to get up. So much had happened the day before that it was almost impossible to find the will to rise early.

But somehow they managed it. With sleep still heavy in their eyes and a pale sheen over both their skins, the boys ventured out of Camp Half-Blood to accomplish the first step before the looming chaos: getting a lizard.

It’s about eleven in the morning by the time they find themselves on the subway train. The vehicle creaks and groans as the boys are submerged into darkness.

Will and Nico were lucky enough to get a seat right next to each other. The subway train is packed with people just as tired they are, all zooming forward to complete their mundane, uneventful lives.

Will wonders if they even know how much their life is in danger today. It’s always been a little funny how demigods and gods work behind the scenes to keep the world away from devastation, all just to see that mortals are so painfully oblivious to things happening around them. But Will supposes they have an excuse - many of them can’t see through the Mist, and besides, they all have their own smaller worries to care about.

If only his own worries were as small as theirs.

Will leans into Nico a little, pressing his arm against the son of Hades. Even though it’s barely a show of affection, a burst of pink blooms over Nico’s nose and cheeks. Will decides to lean away a little at the sight. He knows that Nico is not comfortable with too much public affection, especially in public places like NYC, which Will can understand. He’d rather die by the hands of a monster instead of a mere mortal who can’t accept who he is.

Nonetheless, Nico touches Will’s finger with his, just a little, and that’s enough to make Will smile. No one can see their hands touching, but maybe that’s what makes the touch so exciting to Will - they’re doing this in secret, living in their own tiny world.

Will eases into Nico again, just a little bit - not enough to make their relationship painfully obvious, but enough to tell Nico he’s here. A ghost of a smile haunts Nico’s lips.

“Thank you for agreeing to come today,” Nico says, his voice sweet and gentle as honey as it sweeps through Will’s ears. He turns his head to look at Will, and just as he does, the train opens up into the bright sunny light. It flashes against the right side of his face, seeps into his skin, illuminates his dark eyes. He can do anything and make it look like a Renaissance painting.

Will smiles. “Well, I’m not going to let you go alone.”

Nico raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know, Will. You didn’t seem very excited to come with me. You know, what with the whole ‘the Trogs are bad for you, Nico,’ ‘don’t risk your mental health, Nico,’ ‘no, Nico.’”

Will sighs. “And yet you still decided to go.”

“I would be dooming everyone if I didn’t.”

“But do you realize that sometimes you don’t need to take the weight of the world on your shoulders all the time?”

“Well, isn’t that why you’re coming with me today? To help take some of the weight?”

Will lowers his gaze as a trickle of fear slithers down his back. “I’m not really talking about the Trogs anymore.”

“I figured you weren’t.” An icier tone stabs Nico’s words, and Will winces. “I don’t want to talk about Tartarus right now.” His eyes waver around the train. “Not here, at least.”

Will wants to keep talking about it, though. But he sees the shadows behind Nico’s eyes, the underlying fear that plagues him at night.

“Fine,” he whispers boldly. “We’ll talk about it when we get off.”

About fifteen minutes later, the subway train screeches to a halt at the station. Darkness has once again infiltrated their space, and the scent of trash and dirt swims around the boys. Will sticks close to Nico, just to make sure neither of them get lost in the chaos of New York City.

As soon as they’re out into fresh air, Will tugs his boyfriend’s hand, stopping the both of them in their tracks. People mill around, pushing past the two, but the boys are stuck in time. Nico looks at Will, a darkness roiling behind his irises, and Will knows that they have to talk about it now. He wants them to.

Nico sighs and steps closer, slipping his hand out of Will’s. He crosses his arms across his chest. “We have a mission, Will. This is important. Why are we talking about this now?”

“We need to.” Quickly, Will rushes the two of them to an empty alleyway, where shadows envelop them in a cold embrace and silence segregates them from the rest of the world. While the day outside is sunny and warm, a cold breeze brushes against their faces in the shade.

Nico scrubs his face in annoyance. “I don’t understand why we have to talk about this now.”

“We haven’t talked about it at all,” Will says. “Every time I try to, you always switch the topic or we get whisked away to something new.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?” Nico grumbles. “We already know that it’s likely I have to go back in. What else is there to discuss?”

“What we have to discuss is who’s going with you. You’re not going down there alone again.”

Nico laughs curtly. “Will, I’m not taking you with me. You already offered and I’m turning you down. I’m going on my own.”

Will shakes his head. “Nico, you can’t. You just started getting voices from someone in Tartarus - who, by the way, we aren’t even sure is real - and you’re thinking that you have to go.” Will steps closer, his curls bouncing mere inches from Nico’s face. “If you have to go, I’m going with you. You went in and almost lost your sanity. It’s a miracle you even made it out alive and with your mind intact. Going back in will be like a shredder to your brain, and not to mention you’re going to be even more mentally unstable than the first time.”

Nico raises a brow. “I beg to differ. I’ll be going in stronger than last time.” He pulls away from the blond. “I’m stronger than I was then, Will. I’m emotionally, mentally, and physically better. You don’t need to think I’m fragile.”

“I don’t think you’re fragile, Nico.” Will’s mouth curls into a frown, and concern laces in his eyes. “I never think that.”

“Then why are you insisting to come with me? If anything, you’re going to be worse off than I am.”

At his words, Will’s heart skips a beat. Red hot rage simmers over his blood, invades his system, folds over his mind. “Why would I be worse off?” Will asks, a scowl flashing over his features. Before Nico can answer, he blurts, “Is it because I’m weak? Because I’m just a kid of Apollo? Because I’m better at healing and that I’m some kind of sweet, innocent child of nature?” Without meaning to, all of Will’s repressed anger spills into his words, puddles out into the open. The ache of tears builds up in his throat, choking him with his rage. Will drowns in his insecurities, suffocates under his sadness.

“Because I’m not a child of the Big Three?” he suggests further, his voice like shards of glass that sink into Nico’s skin. “Is that why I’m going to be worse?”

Nico blinks in surprise. He steps back a little, fear sparkling in his eyes. As much as Will hates to make him feel that way, there’s still that inkling of pride at the back of his mind. He’s making someone afraid. He’s never able to do that.

Nico shakes his head vigorously. “No, Will, I would never think that. It’s not because you’re weak. You’re not weak.”

“Then what is it? Am I useless to you? Nothing more than your pretty, innocent boyfriend?”

“Where is this coming from? Why are you acting like this?”

Nico’s words echo in Will’s brain, prodding through his mind. Will blinks, surprised by his question. Where is this coming from? Will wonders.

A wave of emotions overflows in his chest, surges in his throat, rises to his head. His vision turns red and yellow and he holds his head in his hands, trying to stop the rage in his body. He feels like he’s going to explode, to combust, to burn up. He’s going to destroy everything in this alleyway.

Tears prick his eyes, and one slips out of the corner, creating a crack against the side of his face. He’s breaking. “I can’t let you go alone, Nico,” Will whispers, voice pleading, begging, urging. He grabs for Nico’s hands, yearning for his warmth. “I can’t let you risk your life. I can’t let another person die.”

Nico’s chest heaves with each breath, his own eyes swimming with tears. His mouth is pulled at the corners, stretched with anger and exhaustion and annoyance. For a second, he lets Will take his hands, to hold him. But then he snatches them back angrily, a scowl prominent across his features.

“How do you think I feel letting you come with me?” Nico hisses, his hands shivering at his sides. “I can’t let you die because of me, Will. You’re one of the few people I have left in this world. Jason died. My mother died. Bianca left me. I’m not letting you leave me, too. Not if I can fucking help it.” A teardrop rolls down the side of his face and he wipes it away, but two more slip over his face. “You’re not coming and that’s final.”

Will runs his hands through his curls in frustration. “Why aren’t you understanding this, Nico?” he hisses. “Why can’t you see that I feel the same way? You know how guilty I feel each and every time someone dies. If I don’t offer to come with you, then that’s like saying I’m letting you die. Your blood will be on my hands if I don’t come, because I could stop you but I wouldn’t be able to if you go on your own.” A sob stabs his chest. “I don’t want you to die.”

“That’s how I feel!” Nico cries, his anger ringing in the alleyway. The darkness around them pulses. “I don’t want you to die. Taking you with me is promising that I’m going to be responsible for your death! And I don’t want that! I don’t want… I don’t want to be responsible for your death. I don’t want you risking your life for me. It’s not worth it.”

“But you’re not forcing me to go with you!” Will protests, his fingers twitching. “I’m doing it on my own.” He pulls closer to Nico again, grasping for his hands, grasping for his realness. He needs Nico to understand how willing he is to follow Nico into the dark, the danger, the devastation. “My death will not be in your hands because I’m choosing to go with you. If one of us falls, then we both fall. I’m not letting you go down on your own.”

Nico’s breath hitches as another broken sob echoes around them. Pain chokes his words as he says, “If I go, it’s my choice to go on my own. That isn’t your fault. Why won’t you understand that?”

“For the same reason that you can’t understand my point,” Will says, groping for Nico’s warmth again. “Because we care about each other too much. But, Nico, please. I need to go. I can’t… I don’t… You can’t do this on your own. You don’t need to be the hero on your own all the time. Let someone else be there with you.” Will leans in once more, pressing his forehead against Nico’s. The son of Hades melts into the touch, raising his head just a little. “You’ve been alone too long. You don’t need to be anymore.”

Silence encompasses them again. They’re swirling in a tornado of emotions, lifting off from the ground, joining together in confusion.

Then Nico steps away. He wipes his face against his sleeve, trying to get rid of all the emotion that took over him just moments ago. Behind his dark eyes, Will sees the stubbornness crashing down, the walls crumbling.

But they’re not falling enough. The ruins still stand high.

Nico lets go of the blond’s hand. “We’ll see,” is all he says.

And he steps out of the alleyway, entering the universe once more, leaving Will in the darkness.

34 notes · View notes

newswcanonprompts · 4 years

Text

prompt #37 - Jedi are like Magpies and love their clones

sorry we haven’t posted in forever! to make up for it, i’m posting one of our longest and detailed prompts (maybe even the longest)- this came from a LONG discussion a few weeks back, and it was a lot of fun. this idea morphed a ton, and it became this huge thing. this is personally my favorite one, so hope you enjoy!

Jedi collect trinkets and wear them!!! Hand them to others as a very important gift

The Clones dont really get it, but they are happy

The jedi make them things like jewelry, keychains, little beaded things, colored strings, they’ll give them feathers, you name it

Its another way to show that they are individuals, and that the jedi know them specifically

The veteran clones have long keychain type things and the shiny clones want them very much and it’s something they look forward to

The padawans hand the commanders things and being sad when the CC’s tell them they can’t take them into battle

Krell gets found out earlier.

“Okay, look, i know krell is… well, he is *something* and i don’t want to accuse a master of the order but have you looked at his men?! where the hell are their keychains?!”

The padawans stage a protest at the senate because how else are they going to make sure that their troops know they are loved and get their trinkets

This idea can get angsty really quickly (finding trinkets after battles, in ship crashes, or post-order 66), but we won’t do that because of how angsty this server already is, we need some fluff sometimes

Palaptine can commit self delete

Clones will paint armor for padawans cause that is how they show honor and stuff

The clones, upon figuring out what they mean, give their jedi trinkets also

Mirialan padawan holding armor they got: “ITS GREEN LIKE ME!”

There are little figurines, some painted rocks, some little shiny things found on the battlefield

The clones who aren’t as good with their hands singing songs or telling stories

The jedi record them and keep them on little datachips that they keep on them at all times

Barriss doesn’t go bad because this is happy time

The jedi padawans start a riot / protest outside the senate building because some clones got their trinkets taken away by asshole civilians because they’re “not human”, just copies

The (now very pissed off) jedi sprung into action

If a snooty senator(s) takes away a clone’s trinket, the jedi just sit back and grind to a halt. Because if the clones, the PEOPLE WHO PROTECT THE REPUBLIC, are gonna get treated like that, the war can wait

The jedi knights and masters just meditate wherever the padawans are protesting

This is done to ‘keep the peace’

If anakin hears a snooty senator degrade the clones, he starts ranting and shouting about their individuality and accomplishments, while pointing at each trinket.

Someone live streams this

Luminara joins in (barriss is right behind)

Aayla too

Luminara, anakin, aayla, tag teamed shouted speech

Ahsoka and barriss are being held back by the CC’s (ahsoka is making some very crude hand gestures and barriss is like “i can name every bone in your body as i break it” - cause barriss has all that healer knowledge)

Once these three are done, mace windu comes along with the council. They think mace is going to scold the three of them until mace starts shouting at the senators too. The council just lets mace do all the talking.

This is the most watched live stream this year. It’s very funny and starts a ton of memes (obi wans face, yoda meditating, the look of “oh shit” on the original snooty senator’s face, the look of surprise on everyone when mace starts shouting too - there is also a gif made of the council looking at the situation, looking at themselves (mostly mace) and then they all step back to let mace do the talking, the clones faces when they see that three jedi and then the jedi high council are defending them)

Mace, rolling up his sleeves: “okay let’s do this”

The senators: backing away in fear

Obi wan might commit a war crime right now because no way people can talk about his troops like that

Obi wan: “am i allowed to kill a senator?”

Cody: “General, do not-”

This whole thing leads to a massive debate and overwhelmingly good PR for the jedi and clones

Shady sheev doesn’t like that. Good PR for the jedi? No thank you. But since this is a fixit he gets his ass kicked later on so everything’s fine (skeevy sheev has to scramble to try to fix his plans though)

All the padawans from that one lightsaber episode (the one on ilum where the younglings got their kyber crystals) are there and SHIT’S GOING DOWN

Petro in particular is very close to kicking someone’s ass

Caleb dume is there also.

“Master depa said we should never raise our blades in revenge or anger. But this is not revenge.” this is war, this is justice, this is defense of a defenseless group

Padme also joins in all of this (but much more calmly)

She also might make some passive aggressive comments about the snooty senators trash outfit

She and all her senator friends are gonna blacklist the original culprit

Padme and bail organa (they also got help from many jedi) put in the clone rights bill the next day

In the halls outside the debate chamber, padme threatens to gut people with her hair pins if they don’t vote in her favor

sure, it’s *technically* extortion, but come on, who’s gonna stop her? those pins are pointy y’all

Anakin tried to help draft / present the bill but he spent most of his time ranting about the injustices the clones have to face (leia had to get it from someone)

Anakin, out of breath: “AND ALL YOU SENATORS JUST SIT HERE, DOING NOTHING, WHEN THEY’RE OUT THERE DYING FOR YOU-”

Padme: “okay ani i got this, drink some water please”

Ahsoka also jumps in

Plo, who’s watching the debate: “little ‘soka, please don’t hurt anyone” (but he’s not about to stop her, after all these are his sons we’re talking about)

If someone said “well they’re not slaves?” anakin would go OFF. if you thought he was angry before… you got another thing coming.

“I AM A FREED SLAVE! I KNOW WHAT IT IS LIKE! THESE MEN HAVE LESS RIGHTS THAN I DID AS A SLAVE!”

If the public doesn’t know about his childhood before, they do now

Imagine the shock

Padme: “Ani, deep breaths, it’s gonna be okay.”

Also padme, to the other senators: “well i mean he’s not wrong you assholes”

Padme is also making very well timed comments and suggestions. It’s the most successful day she’s had since she became senator

She’s also revealing all the senators’ dirty secrets

Padme: “oh, senator so-and-so, i released all your finances and your voting history on the holonet. I’m sure your supporters will love that you’re embezzling funds. Oh, you lost your support? Tragic.”

The jedi also have dirt on everyone and they just casually let everything slip like they weren’t secrets

Shady sheev Palpacreep is in his little podium thing during the debate, and he is very pissed, because his plan is getting ruined, but he can’t let it show or else people will discover the truth about him

Anakin: “isn’t it great that we’re finally doing something about it?”

Sheev, pained: “Of course-”

This whole debate is still live streamed - and it’s very popular

The senate who made the original comment and started all of this is #cancelled

This is the greatest thing the galaxy has ever seen / watched because drama

If a jedi dies, and they aren’t brought back to the temple, they are burned with the other dead on the battlefield. Young padawans take their master’s trinkets in remembrance, wanting to follow their path and have tangible proof that the master passed into the force but that they left their mark in the world

You do not burn the trinkets. Krell tried once. It almost started a jedi civil war (maybe that’s how he gets found out)

Or maybe krell was found out because he gives zero trinkets to his men, and everyone caught on and were like “hey wtf man”

But if you wanna make it angsty ( cough cough umbara ) then krell tells the 501st to remove / burn / throw out their trinkets or he’d do it for them

He gives them an example by slicing a very special one that anakin and ahsoka both gave to rex

Krell also slices one of dogma’s. It was the only one dogma had because he was newish to the battalion at the time and wasn’t sure if accepting the trinkets was against regs or not. Krell slashes it and dogma doesn’t say anything but there were tears in his eyes

All the jedi who find out what happened replace all the trinkets so fast. They also give krell’s men a shit ton of presents.

Krell’s men have no idea what to do with them, but they are so touched a few shed tears when they get them

The clones get small tattoos of patterns that the little padawans drew for the men

The tattoos are small because some of them *might* just be random squiggles but the padawans looked so happy the clones just had to get them tattooed

Anakin orders japor wood with padme's bank account to make snippets for the clones because it’s not only a jedi thing, it’s from anakin's homeworld - and that’s like the highest praise you can get from him

The clones might not know exactly what it means but they know its super special

Padme figures out a way to buy japor wood in bulk. Anakin is very touched by this

When snooty senators start badmouthing clones, yoda just sits there and meditates to drive the senators nuts

“Sitting, i am, because stand you bitches, i cannot”

Padme gets many trinkets from the 501st because they all *know* about her and anakin

Any trinkets that she gets she likes to incorporate into her outfits (like the warrior fashionista that she is)

She embroiders some of them into her dresses and hairpieces

They both get a TON of trinkets when the twins are born

Padme also gives trinkets to the 501st, some of the 212th, and all of the coruscant guard. Especially fox cause she sees all the work he does and the senators he has to deal with

She’s besties with the coruscant guard. Like yeah, she knows the 501st and they know about her and anakin (and she’s one of them because of it) but the guard is who she’s always with

She probably wore red on debate day to represent them

264 notes · View notes

elai-okonma · 3 years

Text

Chapter 15. I’m Going Home Part 1

TW: uhhhhh, violence?

thank you so much for everyone who is still here! I love you all <3

Word count: 1,574

Celestial Realm:

“Hello, Father. Long time no see..”

There was a moment of silence, and then:

“Lucifer.”

After everything you’ve been through, the past few months you’ve been in the Celestial Realm, this was going to be the cherry on top. You couldn’t wait to see how this played out! I mean, Lucifer was like that sibling your parents were disappointed in, because he didn't live up to their expectations.

How long had it been since Lucifer and his Father had actually seen each other face to face? It was probably a length of time you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. This was going to be a conversation for the ages, and you had a front row seat.

You decided to make yourself comfortable on one of the seats, still having an unbreakable grip on Gabriel. You’re surprised that God hasn’t gotten him some help yet, considering he was on the verge of death. (If supreme beings even could die.) You took this moment of inner thinking to come up with the pleasant idea that you were going to make Gabriel your bitch. You laugh out loud at the thought and Kyo and Elai come up by your side to find out what’s so funny.

As you’re starting to tell your friends your brilliant idea, you feel your mouth warm up and the air around you shift. You whip your head around and see that fucking prick of an Archangel...

Michael… You fly out of your seat so fast that you were in his face, with your hands around his neck, before anyone could react. Everyone except for Lucifer, that is.

“MC!!” His voice booms, stopping you from snapping the Archangels neck.

Your eyes stay fixed on Michael’s, even though you feel someone gently getting you off of him. It was Lucifer, you knew his touch apart from anyone else's. Well, him and his brothers. Demons had a totally different vibe from humans and Angels, after all. You look up at him and step away from Michael.

God finally decides to open his mouth and say something:

“Lucifer why are you here? You know you were forbidden from ever returning to the Celestial Realm.”

“I came to ask you if there was another Celestial War happening, but I can see that I was mistaken.” the Demon looks over at you. You can’t hide your smile or the way your heart flutters when you see him look at you.

“Ah, yes, why don’t you tell Lucifer what that was about, MC?” God says with a tone you really didn’t care for.

You suck your teeth at the request and reply with:

“Yeah MICHAEL, why don’t you tell Lucifer what that was about?” you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

Everyone looks to the Archangel expectantly, and Elai and Kyo have to cover their mouths to stifle their laughter. They were there when all the fighting broke out, so they knew it was going to be an interesting story.

The Archangel looks to you then to Lucifer before starting:

“I made a pact with MC-”

You hear a growl come from the Demon beside you.

“-she accepted, and took in some of my power...”

You can see Lucifer physically struggling to restrain himself from attacking Michael, he must know what pacts with Archangels entails. He speaks in a slow pace with a dropped voice, “so you’re telling me...that you are betrothed to MC...” his eyes twitch, “...and I know MC well enough that she would never make a pact with you if she knew what it really meant. So what I’m hearing is that you took advantage of her.” He rolls his shoulders and his Demon form appears. His feathers are trembling, a tell-tale sign that he was beyond pissed off. You take a step to the side and start laughing,

“Fuck Michael, you really did it now.” you smile evilly at the Archangel. You also let your Angel form appear as you crack your knuckles.

In a fraction of a second you and Lucifer are on Michael. You and the Demon beating the absolute dog shit out of the Archangel.

In between you fucking up Michael, you wonder why his Father is just letting this happen. If He really wanted to, He could stop everyone in this room with the snap of His fingers. But instead, He let you mutilate Gabriel, and then just did nothing when you made him your bitch. He also didn’t stop you when you Michael walked in. And now, you were naked, wings and halo out, still covered in blood, and whooping Michaels stupid ass with Lucifer. It was too great. You couldn’t hide your laughter, all of this is just so much fun!

First punch to Michael’s face “...ah-ha, ahahaHAHAHAHA!!” Second punch. Third punch. Fourth punch. You just couldn't stop, unleashing punches at a brutal pace, even Lucifer had a hard time keeping up with you. It was then that you realized that even Kyo and Elai decided to jump in. Now, that slowed you down enough to take a moment and look over at your besties. Talk about some ride or dies! Did they just not care anymore? Did they know what they were risking?

As this marvelous 4v1 was unfolding, Gabriel regained consciousness. You immediately sensed it and snapped your head up to look at him. When you both locked eyes with each other, he looked away and put his head back down so fast it was hilarious. That’s a good little bitch, you think to yourself. As you return your attention back to the iconic gang jumping you were serving the Archangel, you felt your body start to be pulled away by a strange force.

As you were being dragged away by the unknown force, you were desperately trying to claw your way back to Michael, you weren’t done with him yet. Not even close.

With your wings flailing behind you sporadically, mixed with the ear piercing screeching of your nails on the marble floor, you finally reach the source of the power pulling you back. You feel a hand on your throat and a body against your back, as you’re lifted off the ground. You can’t see anyone, but you can feel them as if they were really there. You hear God's voice right in your ear now. In a low, hushed tone he says, “tell them to stop, or you’ll regret it.”

You go eerily still, as you call out to Lucifer and your friends, “Guys! Stop!’

They immediately halt their assaults on Michael, and look over to you.

“What is it, MC?”

You point to your neck and explain that their Father has a hold of you, but that you can’t see Him. Your halo is flashing fast now. You were wondering when He would intervene. He speaks up so everyone can hear;

“Ever since MC got here, it seems that not one of you knows how to act, anymore. Have you all forgotten your places? This is the Celestial Realm!” He’s starting to shout now as he continues, “This is not the Devildom, but if you want to act like Demons I can surely send you down there!”

This causes you to giggle as you speak up, “That’s all I’ve been trying to do since I got here!”

“And so you shall get what you ask.” He has finally had enough. His tone shifted, and it made you start to tremble. “MC, when you came here, you were in my good graces. I understood your love for my sons, and was even so nice as to offer you a spot by my side.”

“You knew who I was when I got here, it’s not my fault that your other sons are liars and trick people into making pacts with them.” You try to struggle out of his grip, but it only tightens. “Just let me go, so I can go home with Lucifer, and to my other Demons.” You’re getting fidgety, now. You don’t like God's hands on you. Something about it feels wrong.

In an instant, you feel a hand on your right wing as your eyes blow out wide. “N-no. NO!” you shriek, as He proceeds to rip your wing off. You throw your head back with a blood curdling scream. Lucifer is at your side in a flash of light, trying to get your out of his Father’s grip. Your blood drips onto the floor, and there’s drool coming out of your mouth as you start to black out.

“IT WAS ME WHO GAVE YOU THESE GIFTS AND NOW, I TAKETH AWAY!”

You barely hear the words as you drift in and out, but you definitely don’t miss the sound of Michael’s snicker from across the way. The hand on your throat is heating up now, making it painfully uncomfortable to breathe.

“I SEND YOU BACK TO THE FLAMES YOU SO DESPERATELY WANTED TO BE IN!”

Lucifer couldn’t bear the sight of you. You were already badly beaten up when he was reunited with you, and hearing that scream come from you was enough. Lucifer had finally lost himself.

You felt a crackling, static energy and then intense heat, like you had just stuck your face in an oven. You manage to open an eye just in time to see something you thought you’d never see in your mortal nor your immortal life...

Lucifer’s true form.

#obey me!#obey me luficer #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me shall we date #obey me asmodeus #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me mammon #obey me satan #Obey me beelzebub #obey me simeon #obey me fanfic

28 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 4 years

Text

@royaltrashpanda

Prompt: a kiss on the hipbone.

---

Inukimi proved to be an enigmatic creature. Poised and calculating one moment and then giggling with mirth the next, a flair to her dramatics. Kagome had spent enough time with con artists to know that these amiable moments meant to put her at ease were a thinly veiled attempt to get the miko to slip up and reveal something.

Kagome just wasn't sure what her goal was.

Sesshoumaru's knee brushed hers, sitting beside her and nursing a cup of saké. She'd declined the offer of alcohol, the mere idea of it making her stomach churn. He didn't talk much in the presence of his mother, which didn't seem to bother the demoness.

"You really must tell me about your funny garments," Inukimi was smiling, sitting across from them at a low table within a lavish sitting room. "I have never seen such strange material. You will make some for me."

Kagome bristled, about to open her mouth in protest- before noticing that the command wasn't intended for her. The brown-haired woman sitting not too far away near the door bowed.

Blue eyes slid back to Inukimi, who appeared perpetually amused by everyone around her. She frowned, "your servant's hand is badly burned. She should be allowed to tend to her wounds."

Inukimi fanned herself without a flutter of offence or reaction, spun silver hair caressing her perfect porcelain features. "What a bleeding heart you have. I find it interesting that you should accept my son's courtship, considering his own penchant for cruelty. It doesn't mesh too well with a miko's values, now does it?"

Sesshoumaru tensed beside her, staring a little too intently at the clear beverage in his cup. Kagome lay a hand over his knee. Inukimi missed none of this exchange.

"Maybe if Sesshoumaru was listing what he was good at, he'd talk about how he could slaughter hundreds or perform amazing feats of power, sure. But that doesn't mean he lacks kindness," Kagome said clearly. "It just means that he'd rather not reveal that side of himself to people who don't know him well enough."

Golden eyes flashed. Lean shoulders shook- Inukimi bursting into loud, elegant laughter, hiding her lips behind the fall of her sleeve. She glanced at Sesshoumaru, "ah I am so pleased you picked a spirited one. I half feared you'd choose a meek little thing like your father just because the softness was a novelty."

He snorted, sipping the saké. "Ridiculous," he uttered. "She is strong," Sesshoumaru looked at Kagome, pride barely concealed in his gaze. "And soft. But it is not a novelty to this one."

Inukimi seemed a little confused, sliding her attention back and forth between them. She then hummed and set her fan down in favour of sliding a long ornate pipe out from the heavy folds of her kimono. Lighting it, she took a drag, and Kagome was suddenly transported back to that fateful rainy night. She blushed and glanced away. In a lot of ways, Sesshoumaru seemed to take after his mother.

"So has he kissed your forehead yet?" Inukimi smiled, as though hoping to catch her off guard. "It means deep devotion, essentially saying 'I cherish you.' Oh my, Sesshoumaru. I hope I did not just spill something embarrassing~"

"Actually he has. And explained what it meant," Kagome gave a sweet smile.

Inukimi pouted, "well that's no fun."

Rising, the miko decided the suffering servant bothered her enough to excuse herself. Before she could take a step away though, an arm reached up to curve around her waist. Lips pressed to the curve of her hip, Sesshoumaru looking up at her through pale lashes. Kagome blinked and smiled, patting his arm.

"I won't be long," she murmured in assurance.

He nodded and released her. Inukimi's eyes were wide with shock, the pipe slack in her hold.

Despite the brown inuyoukai having attacked her, Kagome crossed the length of the room and urged her to rise, taking the woman out of the room with the intention of getting her wounded hand tended to.

Laughing a cloud of smoke, Inukimi glanced at her son. "I cannot believe she snubbed me for a servant," she sniffed, voice becoming amused. "I like her."

"This one does not care for your approval."

She sighed, "still childishly referring to yourself in the third person, son?"

"Still unpleasant and vain, mother?"

They stared at each other, soon sharing a sharp-toothed smile. Sesshoumaru took out his own pipe, which Inukimi lit for him, the room soon becoming thick with smoke as they talked.

---

After attending to the servant- who kept protesting and insisting a Lady should not look after a faithful servant- Kagome found herself a little lost within the Western Stronghold. She took a few wrong turns, trying to navigate by what she could see out of the elegant windows- which only resulted in getting more lost.

Dazed and disorientated, sweat beaded on Kagome's brow. All the servants seemed to have vanished. Which wing was she even in?

Losing her footing, she tripped and squeaked, bracing herself for impact.

An arm wound tight around her waist- halting her swift descent to the hardwood floors. Kagome breathed out with relief, turning her head with words of thanks intended for Sesshoumaru on her tongue.

Inukimi looked down at her, pipe jutting out from the corner of her mouth. She arched a delicate brow, helping to right the miko.

"T-thank you," Kagome blushed.

"Hm, no matter," the demoness swept her gaze over the miko, lingering in a particular area as she removed the pipe and exhaled like a dragon. "You should be more careful though, little one. Especially considering your condition. I should like my grandchild to be kept safe in there."

The world, which had been naturally turning on its axis- ground to a halt- flinging Kagome from the earth.

Her mouth dried up, blue eyes flying wide. Kagome's breath hitched as her mind screamed internally. "W-what?" she squeaked, suddenly backtracking. "O-oh! No, no- you're mistaken. Just because I didn't have any alcohol, it doesn't mean I'm covering up a pregnancy. We've both been very careful with drinking contraceptive tea, and I've taken pills. There's no way that could happen," she giggled thinly.

The vicious amusement that Inukimi had longed for all afternoon now lit up her beautiful, cruel features with strong delight. Golden eyes brightened into gleaming suns, ruby lips spreading wide.

Kagome's stomach dropped with dread.

"How adorable," Inukimi brushed lithe fingers over her mouth to partially hide her painfully large smirk. "But no, no- you are mistaken, little miko. This is not some pitiful guesswork on my part. A mother always knows. You are most assuredly with child, I can smell it in your scent," her tone rolled into a playfully dark thing, revelling in Kagome's shock.

"Congratulations~"

#Sesskag #sesshoumaru x kagome #Inukimi #Prompts

81 notes · View notes

ineloqueent · 4 years

Text

Starstruck: Epilogue

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is the epilogue of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, or the previous part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 19

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.

Warnings: N/A; there’s not even swearing what the hell

Historical Inaccuracies: N/A

Word Count: 2.2k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Madison Square Garden, New York, United States, 1st of December, 1977

Years could pass— years would pass— and yet the feeling would forever remain the same. The rush, the pure and simple thrill of music and theatrics. Queen performing. You would never get tired of it.

Never get tired of Freddie’s flourishes and dramatic spins, John’s little dance moves that were becoming more frequent and less shy, Roger’s funny faces and showing off with those incredible falsettos, Brian’s look of concentration through a guitar solo, and the smile that broke it when you caught his eye from the wings.

The huddled conversations before a show, the raging parties afterward that you and Brian would often sneak out from, halfway through, because there were stars and comets and Perseids and planetary alignments to be seen.

You never missed an astronomical event.

Brian had bought a little notebook specifically for the two of you to mark such things in, and it was with a giddy smile that you’d toss him the notebook on a day where he’d forgotten what would be happening in the night sky, and watch him light up as he read your note.

He had also adopted a new tradition, it appeared, leaving you polaroids you hadn’t known he’d taken— in the backpocket of the bell bottom trousers you’d laid out to wear the next day, between the pages of whatever novel you were currently reading, on your pillow alongside a bouquet of wildflowers.

You’d never met anyone like Brian, who, for all his absent-mindedness, was ceaselessly thoughtful when it mattered.

Except today.

It would seem that all logic had been thrown out the window today.

But that was fair enough, you thought, because Queen were to be playing at Madison Square Garden.

And Brian’s parents would be there to watch.

He was fretting about that fact, it was obvious. He’d walked around all day wringing his hands and chewing on his lip, pacing, chattering, at moments falling entirely silent. He’d even forgotten to bring his guitar with him when Queen had stepped onstage for the afternoon’s soundcheck.

The problem was that Brian hadn’t had the time to see his parents earlier on in the day, and wouldn’t get to do so before the show, because they were arriving in the city only half an hour prior to the concert.

“Sit down, Brian,” said Roger finally, and Brian fell back into the chair beside you, completely on autopilot.

You reached out for his hand, and he took it without a thought, grasping a little too tightly. As he worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, you rubbed circles into the back of his hand with the pad of your thumb.

“Have a cuppa, darling,” Freddie said. He stopped in the act of painting his toenails with a sparkly varnish in order to hand you the cup of tea that John had just poured.

In turn, you handed the cup to Brian, but only seconds after he’d taken the first sip of tea, the cup crashed to the ground and shattered into a thousand little pieces, tea splattering all over his white shoes.

“Oh, you klutz,” Freddie sighed. “That was one of our only good cups. The only one without a chip.”

Uncharacteristically, Brian immediately mumbled an apology, rising from his seat.

“Well, at least it won’t have a chip now,” you joked, and Brian smiled weakly.

Deacy pointed a finger at the two of you. “Don’t move,” he said. “You’ll only crush it more.”

You nodded, and a broom was passed amongst those outside of the warzone of porcelain, the mess quickly cleared.

Your hand found a place in Brian’s hair and you dragged your fingers soothingly through his curls until he sighed and stopped fidgeting for long enough to take a deep breath.

“Right,” said Gerry Stickells, Queen’s current tour manager. “Time to go, if everything is in order?”

Three nods, one quip from Freddie: “Brian’s nerves aren’t in order, but I don’t suppose anyone can fix that.”

His remark was met with silence, so everyone rose from their seats and followed Uncle Grumpy— because that was Gerry’s nickname— toward the wings of the stage.

You kept a hold of Brian’s hand as though the two of you were assured partners in crime and this was your mission— to make it to the stage and through the show without a mishap precipitated by nerves.

You journeyed successfully to the wings, and released Brian’s hand so that he and the others could go and get geared up for the show, offering him a reassuring smile which he accepted with a terse nod.

Then the house lights came up, and Freddie proffered the masses of crew and family his signature wink, Roger gave an experimental twirl of his drumsticks, and John kissed his wife, her belly, and Robert goodbye, because they had come along on tour this time.

Brian was last, as usual, and took his time in leaving you, more reluctant than ever, reasoning that if he did not go onstage, there would be nothing for his father to critique. You shut him up with a kiss and pushed him onto stage, reasoning that if he never went, he’d never know the outcome of the night.

You were a little nervous yourself, as the show began, because you had not met Brian’s parents before and would be meeting them for the first time on this occasion. But your worries would scarcely have helped Brian with his, so you’d kept your peace.

But then there was a scuffle amongst the wings, and you halted in your half-conversation with Veronica, because Crystal was stepping aside to let an older couple through to the front of the wings.

Brian’s parents.

Veronica squeezed your arm reassuringly, and to your dismay, shuffled over to view the concert by Gerry’s side, in place of yours.

Glancing over at Brian’s parents, who, despite Brian’s fears, looked eager to see their son perform, you decided to approach them and introduce yourself.

You gave a little wave, catching the attention of Mrs. May, a woman with curling hair who smiled briefly but radiantly in your direction before touching a hand to her husband’s elbow. She reminded you very much of her son.

You made your way over during one of Freddie’s speeches, stretching out your hand to shake those of the two Mays.

“Hi,” you said, “I’m Y/N Andrews.”

“Y/N,” Ruth May smiled again, “we’ve heard so much about you.”

You fought the urge to wring your hands precisely as Brian had been doing earlier on, electing instead to main eye contact like the civilised person you were pretending to be.

You laughed, knowing how much of an automaton you sounded, but scrambling desperately to cover up your nervousness. “All good, I hope.”

Harold May, it seemed, had the same pensive dimension to his personality as did his son, and spoke only now. “Of course. He speaks very fondly of you.” His voice had a slow, careful quality to it, every word embossed with intention, and you flushed, because you were now sure that Brian did speak very fondly of you.

You were lost in your thoughts a moment, and when you returned, you did not know what to say. You settled for, “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Mr. May, Mrs. May.”

“And you, dear. Call me Ruth, please, else you’ll make me feel old!” she chuckled, and you suddenly realised from where it was that Brian had acquired his gift for always making others feel welcome in his company.

Brian’s dad nodded to you. “Harold,” he said, in conjunction with his wife’s remark. You got the impression that he was a man of few words, but then again, like father, like son. It would seem that Brian drew much from his parents. From stars came stardust.

The next song began, and a guitar riff harmonised with voices sent a shock of electricity down your spine. Queen was always good, but tonight they were especially good. Ruth and Harold May had picked a good show to attend.

You looked on in silence as Queen ran seamlessly through their setlist, your heart nearly bursting with pride by the time Brian perched on the stool, his acoustic guitar poised on his knee as Freddie joined him, lit up by a singular spotlight that might as well have been moonlight.

“This is ‘Love of My Life.’”

You couldn’t stop yourself from turning to Brian’s parents. “What they do,” you said, “it’s magic. I’ve never seen or heard anything like it.” You shook your head slightly as you returned your eyes to the stage. “And Brian. He has this sway, which you don’t notice at first, because he keeps to himself, but then he begins to speak, or play, or sing, and it’s like space bends around him.”

You knew you were rambling, but you couldn’t help it. If you did nothing in this life but to convey to Harold May just how proud he should be of his son, then it would still all have been worth it.

It wasn’t Ruth who spoke up this time.

“I understand that now.”

And there was Harold May, with tears in his eyes at the sight of his son, the musician. Not the astrophysicist, but the musician.

It was abundantly clear to you that Harold May was as proud of this part of his son as he was of any, of every, part of his son.

And it was clear to everyone in the wings that this was it— this was the moment.

Queen had made it. They had actually made it.

The world was theirs for the taking.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The sight you were met with upon leaving the wings was not one you had expected.

You had not expected to find Heather Dersch, of all people, hugging Roger Taylor so tightly that both parties were practically blue in the face.

And when she saw you, she gave a cry and rushed forward, throwing her arms around your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.”

Wordlessly, you returned her embrace, because in your head, you had already half-forgiven her.

“It was never about you,” she murmured. “It was about me feeling insecure and sorry for myself, and I envied you for having it all together.”

You couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up in your throat. “Wherever did you get that idea?”

She shook her head as she pulled away from you, sniffling slightly and pawing away the hair that stuck to her tear-streaked face. “I don’t know,” she sighed. “After I came back home, I went up North and talked to my parents.”

You nodded in understanding; she’d fallen out of contact with them for a while.

“And it helped,” Heather went on. “So now I’m here to apologise for the way that I left, and for what I said to you, because you didn’t deserve that.” She looked down. “You don’t deserve that. But we’ve always been such good friends, and I was hoping…” Her usual demeanour of stubborn defiance returned as she met your eyes. But her tone was still softened by emotion. “I was hoping you might forgive me..?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling her back into the hug. “I’ve done so many stupid things in my life, and I won’t let losing you be one of them.”

When you drew away from Heather again, she smiled.

“My love,” Brian’s voice reached you from nearby, “where was I when you did all of these stupid things?” He kissed your cheek, and you spun to face him as his arms encircled you. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, and you thought your heart would burst.

A noise of disgust announced Roger’s presence, and the subsequent cackle Freddie’s.

Quite suddenly, you and Brian were surrounded by a flock of both crew and family, with Deacy chasing Robert around the room as Veronica laughed.

“Brian.”

Brian’s eyes widened, and his lips fell parted before he turned at the sound of his father’s voice.

“Dad,” he said, his hesitance evident in the way the word caught in his throat like he wasn’t aware whether or not he still held the right to say it. It was rather sweet how much regard he still held for the opinion of his parents, even at the largely independent age of 30.

“I understand.”

His father said nothing more. He did not have to say anything more, because Brian understood too.

For all the world, he finally understood that he was enough. Understood that he was enough for you, for his parents, for himself.

And as he embraced his family— you, his parents, Roger, Freddie, John— you stared up at the ethereal being that was Brian May and understood something too.

Years could pass— years would pass— and yet the feeling would forever remain the same.

Never in your life, never, would you stop being starstruck.

THE END

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: i cannot avoid being sappy about this, so here we go.

thank you to

@hgmercury39 & @pi-kai-sso for being here since literally the beginning (of time?)!

@imcompletelylost for repeatedly complimenting my dialogue-writing, and for being enthusiastic about the gang going to a disco!!

@brianmays-hair for binge reading the first many parts, completely unprompted, and for live-blogging every! single! chapter! after that. also, for making the best memes, and for being excited for saturdays 💞

@joemazzmatazz for spending her work shift binging starstruck, and thereafter, for all of her lovely live-blogs 💕

@doing-albri for complimenting the ‘magic’ of starstruck, so many times, and for making an edit??? inspired by starstruck??? take my love.

@archaicmusings for… um... everything. live-blogs, tagging me in stuff that reminded her of starstruck, general friendship, support. ily!!!

@deacyblues for her never-ending kindness about my talents 🥺 💘

@aprilaady for binge-reading the first many parts of this, for also tagging me in stuff that reminded her of starstruck, and for making me smile with all her live-blogs 🥰

@mazzell-ro for her wonderful comments and general support! 💗

and to everyone who has supported me throughout the writing of this. i never thought i would even publish starstruck, but here we are!

i’m gonna go have an existential crisis now lmao

taglist: @melting-obelisks @cxllianmurphy @hgmercury39 @topsecretdeacon @joemazzmatazz @perriwiinkle @brianmays-hair @im-an-adult-ish @ilikebigstucks @doing-albri @killer-queen-87 @n0-self-c0ntro1 @archaicmusings @cloudyyspace @annina-96 @themarchoftherainbowqueen @annajolras @mazzell-ro @aprilaady @themtvcrib @the-great-imagines-of-1812

Masterpost / Part 19

#tina's writing #starstruck #brian may x reader #fic

108 notes · View notes

hardygalwrites · 3 years

Link

FanFiction.Net Link

(image source)

Anime/Manga: Hetalia

Characters: England and 2P!England

Synopsis: "We are not just ourselves, you know. We're our people as well. I may be some other aspect of the people, but I am the people all the same."

Assaulted and made a prisoner in his own home, England is forced to endure the hospitality of an unexpected and very unwelcome visitor, who puts England's self-deprecating attitude into a whole different perspective.

Note: Originally published on FFN sometime in 2016, deleted, then edited and republished early 2018. TW for force-feeding

—

The powerful voices of Bostridge and Drake, singing their cover of Franz Schubert's Die Forelle, echoed about the kitchen as the strawberry tarts were pulled from the oven. He inhaled the sweet-scented smoke and sighed pleasurably. But for the sounds of frustrated exertion that could be heard above the tenors of Bostridge and Drake, it was all near perfect. He frowned and quickly went on with finishing up the tarts.

Soon, he had the sugary little pastries displayed on a fine china plate, which he carried into the dining room. All the while, his feet danced in time with Schubert's lied - around the overturned table, over the shattered vase, between the splintered halves of the broken chair. He came to a stop at the dining table and set the tarts in front of his dining companion, just as the song ended.

There was no other sound now, besides the light static of the record player, though that too was gone once he removed the needle from the record. He smiled down at his companion. Then, he noticed the blood making slick the cords around his companion's wrists.

"Well, goodness," he exclaimed. "What did you do to yourself?"

His companion was silent, knuckles white about the arms of his chair, posture stiff, countenance stony, overall just looking plain inhospitable.

He sighed, tutting disappointedly. "You can't go hurting yourself like that, all right?"

He pinched his companion's stiff cheek, drawing a wince, and went to sit across from him. "After all, I don't want all my hard work to go to waste. It's been a fair while since I cooked a full on dinner for someone."

His companion simply glared, teeth bared in a distasteful snarl, which he easily countered with a benign grin. This persisted for several seconds.

"...Not very talkative, are y–?"

"Damn it, what the bloody hell do you want!?"

"And no wonder!" he gasped. "Did you kiss mum with that mouth?"

His companion strained to release himself from the chair, only inflicting more damage to his wrists. "You broke into my house, ransacked my drawing room, and–!"

"Broke into your house?" he exclaimed, offended. "My dear Iggy– Ah, do you mind if I call you Iggy? It's something that the boys sometimes call me. I know it's meant to be demeaning, but I can't help but find it adorable. Do your boys give you any affectionate nicknames?"

Bad-tempered silence was the only reply.

He nodded understandingly. "Ah, I see. Touchy subject."

"Oh, shut up," the other muttered. He tilted his head back, sighing. "Why are you here?"

"Well, I heard about you - don't ask me how - and I thought, well, why not go visit?" He clasped his hands. "I wanted to see how alike we are. And judging by the state of your kitchen, I imagine we are not quite so alike as I'd hoped. A tart?"

His companion curled his lip. "Untie my hands first."

"Oh, no, no, no, if I do that you'll jump at me! Here..." He plucked a beautifully crafted tart from the plate. "Open wide!"

The seated individual cringed, leaning back as far as his bonds would allow. "Like hell I'm eating from your hands!"

"Now, that's rude. I do wash them before and after I cook; what uncivilized brute doesn't? Really though, I insist." He poked the tart at the seam of his companion's tightly sealed lips. "Come on, open up! You know, my little boys loved it when I played the 'eat your food' game, especially when they were being disagreeable."

"And how does that go?" the other growled, only speaking when the tart was lifted away.

He lifted a finger, smiling brightly. "Oh! How about a demonstration."

Holding up the tart again, he leaned in close to his companion. "So I'd do this, and I'd say something to the effect of, 'Sweetheart, you need to eat your food.' And if they still said no..."

He gave his companion an expectant look, prodding him with the tart. A shake of the head was all he received, and he smiled.

"Well, if they still said no, then I'd do this."

Quick as lightning, he lashed out with his free hand, gripping his companion's jaw in a vice. A tight squeeze forced his companion's lips open, and he popped the tart between them with a happy giggle and manually aided his reluctant guest into chewing the treat.

As soon as said treat was gone, his companion jerked out of his grip, cursing furiously. "You bloody git! You son of a hell damned wanker!"

He gasped, affronted. "Goodness me, you really do need to work on that language of yours!"

His companion glared at him dangerously, slowly rotating his jaw.

"Oh, don't give me that look. Such language was hardly called for, and I know for a fact that my food can't be that bad. Scone?"

"You're mad." His companion released an odd sound that was something akin to a laugh. "Yes, that's it. You're stark raving mad."

He returned the laugh, choosing a scone from one of the plates. "Mad, yes. An absolute freak. One might even say a punk. I acknowledge this with full acceptance."

He picked up a knife and pressed it against his chest, as though making a vow. "As our dear gentleman, Mr. Carroll, once so aptly wrote, 'We're all mad here.'"

Laughing again, he cut the scone in half and lathered one half with jam. "Or at least, that's the case where I come from. Everyone there is depressed, sociopathic, and just plain mad. You ought to visit sometime."

"I ought not."

"Ought too! But let's not argue. Here, try the scone."

Despite his offer, those lips were once again sealed.

"Come now dearest, you don't want to play the 'eat your food' game again, do you?"

His companion scowled, but opened his mouth, and he happily pushed the scone between his companion's lips lips. Looking him straight in the eye, his companion bit down on the scone and shut his mouth. He waited expectantly, but his companion's jaw remained otherwise unmoving.

He frowned. "Go on! Chew it! ...If you don't chew it I'll have to make you."

He waved the jam knife in front of his companion's face, only to pull back when his companion lunged at him like a mad-eyed Jack-in-the-Box. The yelp that had escaped him quickly turned into laughter as his companion was halted by his bonds.

Clapping his hands, he exclaimed, "Oh, that was naughty of you. Very sly! Ah, but really, I would finish that scone if I were you."

His companion groaned frustratedly.

Two quick chews and a swallow later, he nodded approvingly. "Good lad. You really ought to eat a little more slowly though. Eating fast is so American, and it does terrible things to the digestive system."

"Tell me," his companion growled, continuing to work at his bonds. "When your store of cyanide and strawberry preserves runs dry, do you feed off of the humiliation you inflict on others?"

He smiled, buttering up the second half of the scone. "It's funny, my loving big brother asked me the exact same thing..."

"And what did you say?"

"'Brother dear, I never humiliate others,'" he quoted sincerely. "'They're humiliated, but only because they perceived it that way.'"

He took a bite out of the buttered scone and shrugged. "If you find it humiliating, that's your problem. Tea? Or perhaps you want to finish your scone..."

The other laughed humorlessly. "Oh, a lovely principle you've got there."

"Tea it is, then."

"I'm sure that your friends agree wholeheartedly with that little philosophy. That is if you even have any friends."

He sent his companion a reproving look as he prepared a cuppa. "No need to be sarcastic, Iggy dear. I do have friends, thank you very much, though at this point I am unsure whether or not I can say the same for you."

"I do have... some friends." His companion squirmed, something besides frustration and anger crossing his facial features.

He smiled sympathetically, returning to the preparation of the tea. "Ah, I've been there, mate. There was a time when not a person in the world wanted to be my friend. Then they discovered my wicked cooking skills, and the fact that I am a stubborn little man who won't take no for an answer."

He turned back to his guest, teacup and saucer in hand.

Instantly, his companion's face darkened, as did his voice. "You force-fed me scones and tarts, but I swear that if you try to force-feed me tea I will give you the soundest thrashing you'll have ever received in your life."

"Tough words coming from a man with jam on his mouth."

His companion started, evidently having been unaware of the strawberry jam staining his upper lip, and he laughed.

"Oh, you are adorable," he sighed, managing to wipe away the offending gob of preserve in spite of his companion's evasive flinch. "If you're really so adverse to our veritable lifeblood, I'll set it aside for later. Remember though, it's best served hot."

He set the cup and saucer aside, within reaching distance of his companion, who hissed, "Well, maybe if you bloody untied me, I could enjoy it to my leisure."

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a foul-mouthed little troublemaker, I would consider doing so," he retorted cheerfully. "Oh come now, dearest, enough with the glaring. You have such a handsome face if I do say so myself, and you shouldn't mar it with that drab expression."

He pinched his companion's cheek. "You ought to smile more!"

His companion pulled away with a snarl. "Stop telling me what I ought and ought not to do! I don't care to have anyone telling me how to live my life, least of all you!"

"I'm sorry, I hope you'll forgive my playing shrink, but maybe that's why you're so lonely. You rely solely on self-deprecation and slow-learned lessons, as opposed to outside criticism and well-meant advice."

"You don't know a damn thing about me."

"Don't I, now?" He raised an eyebrow. "I am you, after all. We've both gone through the same history, made same choices, suffered the same consequences..."

"I am nothing like you," the other hissed, glaring.

He succeeded in startling his companion by clasping his face and examining it closely. "Hm, unkempt hair, handsome facial structure, eyes not too far from the blue spectrum, subjectively svelte, impeccable fashion sense - though I can see that you prefer stark green over something a little softer - and of course those uncontrollable brows... I'm sorry, but what was your point?"

"Let go of me," his companion snapped, tearing his face away. "The resemblance is superficial at best."

"On the contrary, I daresay that if we had a test, we'd find that we share the same DNA!"

"Our DNA is that of the people, you idiot; of course it'd be the same."

"That's just my point!" he exclaimed, spreading his hands. "We are not just ourselves, you know. We're our people as well. I may be some other aspect of the people, but I am the people all the same."

"Oh, is there some aspect of the English people often associated with pastry-obsessed psychopaths who insist on overbearing hospitality that I am unaware of?"

"Again with the sarcasm. My dear Iggy," he said, regarding his companion with pity, as one would regard a man who was too slow to fully participate in the world around him. "You would be surprised at what aspects are so prominent within our lovely culture, and yet so unclear to ourselves.

"Now..." He clasped his hands. "How about a teacake?"

"What do you mean by that?" the other demanded.

He grinned obligingly. Picking up a small teacake, he held it out in front of his companion.

"You see this? Foreigners associate this notoriously delicious baked good with our country. It is what the tourists come here for. It is the epitome of traditional English baking. And I baked it," he declared proudly, placing a hand on his chest. "Now, based on your own argument of us having nothing in common, and judging by the frankly miserable remains found in your kitchen, what do you think that means for you?"

His companion maintained a sullen silence, and he continued. "You are simply another aspect of our people that I had never quite considered having existed until now. An unfortunate aspect, but an aspect nonetheless. ...And on that note, open wide!"

His companion deliberately turned his face away.

He sighed. "Really dearest, we aren't honestly going to do this again, are we? Come on, open up."

His companion leaned away still further.

"You're not sulking now, are you? That's very childish of you, darling. ...Don't look at me like that, you know it's true." He sighed again. "I'm giving you one more chance to accept this graciously, Iggy, else I'll have to let our little game commence. Open wide now."

His companion glared defiantly.

The following struggle was an interesting one, and he found himself being quite impressed with his companion; for someone tied hand a foot to a chair, he was a jolly good fighter.

"Good gracious, you are a troublemaker," he exclaimed, finally succeeding in getting a firm grip on his companion's face. "It's only a teacake, no need to make a kerfuffle over it."

The other continued to struggle, and he was starting to feel rather exasperated. "Oh, honestly, my boys never put up this much of a fuss. Not even America was this troublesome!"

"Really?" his companion hissed between clenched teeth. "Was he always defiant of you?"

"Has been since his discovery and continues to be so. Now open..."

"Funny, because my boys always loved my cooking. They enjoyed my company."

It was as though an electric charge had gone through him. He stood paralyzed, teacake held limply in his hand and his grip slackening.

His companion took the chance to pull away from the loosening grip, a triumphant glint appearing in his green eyes as he said, "So what exactly does that say about you, Iggy?"

His own eyes narrowed, and he managed to regain a sharp grip on the other's face, pulling him close. The teacake lay forgotten on the carpeted floor as he spoke, voice quiet but filled with malice.

"Oh, that is clever of you. Flaunting your past as though it's something special, something better, that's just jolly. And yet the joke is still on you, dearest," he sang, smile returning. "We still end up in the same boat. And we both know that our boys left it a long time ago."

Smack.

His vision went white and he staggered back. A painful throbbing emitted from his forehead and went on to take over the rest of his head. His companion lay on the floor, the chair having become unbalanced and tipping over backwards. The two groaned in tandem with each other.

As he pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to stem the pain, something began to build up in his throat, slow but powerful. Before he could identify what it was, it burst forth from his mouth in the form of hysterical laughter. He laughed for what seemed like hours, when in reality it may have only been seconds. By the time he was finished, the pain had died down and his whole body felt exhausted.

He wiped a tear away from his eye, giggling tiredly. "I feel like I may have overstayed my welcome."

His companion still lay on the floor, staring up at him with a strange look on his face. "You're one mad bastard."

"Yes, yes I know." He sighed, straightening his bowtie and cuffs. "Takes one to know one, doesn't it?"

With a wink and a bright smile, he turned away.

"Hey, you can't just leave me here!"

"Can't I, now?"

"I'm a seasoned British soldier! I've escaped from concentration camps! It's only a matter of time before I get out of this!"

"That's what I'm counting on," he said cheerfully. "Sorry I won't be able to see your great escape, but I do have to run. Don't worry though, I'll leave Schubert to keep you company."

Already humming a few bars of Die Forelle, he put the needle on the record. The powerful voices of Bostridge and Drake soon rang throughout the house once again. But for the broken furniture and shattered objects strewn about, and the sounds of frustrated exertion and furious cursing rising above the powerful tenors, everything seemed exceptionally ordinary.

Smiling benignly, steps dancing in time with the lied, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

#posting from THE ARCHIVES #remember when hetalia was relevant?#I don't but I remember really enjoying it while growing up #I won't lie im still fond of this one #writing a bit of a mad character was so much fun #and I have to give myself props for having stuck to the gimmick of never naming the characters outside of dialogue #hetalia #character analysis #hetalia fanfiction #aph england #arthur kirkland #2p england #fanfiction #HardyGal writes stuff #HardyGal writes fanfiction

5 notes · View notes

dinomight · 4 years

Text

So consider: AU where Yanli miraculously survives her wound at the Nightless City—but no one realizes until after Wei Wuxian falls

Jiang Cheng goes back to Yanli after coming down from the cliff, lost, holding back tears. In one fell swoop, he’s lost both of his siblings, and he doesn’t know what to do now. He doesn’t really know what he’s thinking when he reaches her body, only that he’s confused why Lan Xichen is kneeling over her, fingers reached out, blue light connecting with her forehead—

Lan Xichen looks up, eyes wide, and says, “She’s alive.”

The world stops, and then slowly, slowly, begins turning again. (He wonders, now, later, what would’ve happened if he’d reached down and helped Lan Wangji pull his brother up. If he’d just known.)

Jiang Cheng still searches the cliffs. Still participates in the siege of the Burial Mounds. But he hopes to find his brother alive, not dead.

It takes awhile for Yanli to wake up, after. When she finds out about Wei Wuxian, she nearly opens both of her wounds again with the force of her cries.

She asks who killed him, and they all say Jiang Cheng.

He doesn’t deny it.

She leaves, heartbroken and angry, and tries to find Lan Wangji, so she can hear what happened. What her brother’s final moments were like. But when she finds out he’s been banished to the back hill for three years of isolation, Yanli doesn’t have any choice but to go back to the Carp Tower.

She spends the next three years raising her son alone and holding her tongue. The entire world believes that Wei Wuxian was responsible for everything that happened, and even though she knows in her heart that isn’t true, she doesn’t have the proof.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t visit her or send any letters. She doesn’t try, either.

She can’t go searching herself, can’t leave her son, but she sends out people to search for Wei Wuxian in secret. Every time they come back with empty hands, her heart breaks a little more.

After three years have passed, she makes a trip to the Cloud Recesses. She says it’s to visit with Lan Xichen, keep the relationship between the Lan and Jin clans strong, but when she arrives, Lan Xichen only exchanges a mere greeting with her before leading her to Lan Wangji’s chambers.

Yanli and Lan Wangji sit down for tea, and eventually, in halting, quiet words, he tells her everything that happened. How Wei Wuxian, distraught and hopeless, let himself fall. How hard he tried to hold on to him. How Jiang Cheng raised his sword but couldn’t drive the killing blow.

It’s too much. She has to leave. But as she approaches the door, Lan Wangji says quietly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him.”

Yanli stops. She knows there’s nothing she can say that will ease his guilt, so instead she turns and says, “You love him.”

It’s not a question, but he nods.

She smiles. Not big, not like she used to, but it’s still genuine. “That is enough.”

It’s not too long of a journey from the Cloud Recesses to Lotus Pier, thankfully. Yanli finds Jiang Cheng on the docks. He stays quiet as she approaches. She stops a few feet away and asks, eyes filled with tears, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

They hug for awhile, both of them crying, both of them feeling the weight of being two instead of three.

Yanli stays in Lotus Pier for a few weeks, taking Jin Rulan all over. She knows he won’t remember most of this, but it’s special anyways. And while she’s there, her and Jiang Cheng talk, a lot.

He’s still angry at Wei Wuxian. Even if he wasn’t directly responsible for Lin Zixuan’s death—which Jiang Cheng isn’t as convinced of as Yanli—it was his amulet and his ‘crafty tricks’ that made the situations possible. (And he won’t say it, but Yanli knows: their brother’s secession from the Jiang clan hurt him, deeply. The Twin Heroes of Yunmeng, she remembers overhearing. The hurt of a broken promise doesn’t heal easily. She would know.)

Regardless of his feelings, Jiang Cheng still agrees to continue searching for Wei Wuxian, just in case. Yanli leaves Lotus Pier feeling lighter, even if her grief still weighs on her.

On her way back to Carp Tower, she runs into Mianmian. Yanli’s escort encourages her to keep moving, but they reconnect quickly and she insists on staying there for a few days. Mianmian is one of the few people left who knew Jin Zixuan personally, deeply, and is willing to talk about him. They laugh and cry for hours.

It’s on her third day there that an incident happens in the village. A restless, violent spirit. Mianmian is the only cultivator around, so she goes to face it on her own, and Yanli follows.

Her intent is just to watch, make sure that Mianmian doesn’t get hurt, but when the spirit knocks out Mianmian and comes after her, Yanli doesn’t have any choice but to pick up the sword and fight. It’s hard, but she was there when her brothers trained for most of their childhood, and she remembers some of their lessons, just enough to survive.

Yanli can’t stay forever, but Mianmian convinces her to come back every few months so she can train her formally in cultivation.

The years pass. There’s no sign of Wei Wuxian, and Yanli begins to accept that he’s not coming back. Still, her son grows older, and Jiang Cheng sends her letters, and Mianmian keeps training her.

She visits Lan Wangji every once in awhile, when she receives word that he’s taken a break from travelling and returned to Cloud Recesses. He’s still quiet and mournful, but they talk quite a bit. They trade stories about Wei Wuxian, Yanli’s being about their childhood and Lan Wangji’s being about their adventures.

One visit, six years after the Nightless City, he tells her about the first time he saw the Burial Mounds. About Yuan, her brother’s adopted son. She nearly cries over finding out that she has a nephew, but her smile fades when she remembers what became of the Wen clan. She stares at her tea, long cold, and says, “But he’s dead, now.”

Lan Wangji is silent for a moment. And then he stands, and, wordlessly, leads Yanli to a spot in the back hill where a handful of the young disciples are playing. One of the boys nearly trips over a rock, and Lan Wangji calls out, “Careful, A-Yuan.”

The boy stands up and immediately dips into a proper bow before running off after his friends. Yanli steps forward, tears gathering in her eyes, but Lan Wangji holds a hand out.

“He doesn’t remember where he came from, and he cannot know. If anyone were to find out, he could be killed.”

Yanli hesitates, desperate to hold onto the last scrap of her brother, but she nods, and leaves without saying a word to the boy. And if Yuan receives anonymous gifts every once in awhile, a few candies or a small toy, well. She certainly isn’t responsible for that.

Rulan begins learning cultivation, and with it, comes questions. About his father, about the Yiling Patriarch everyone says is responsible for his death. Yanli tells him the truth, but even his mother’s voice can’t outweigh the dozens of others. He still has his doubts, none of which are helped by his uncle’s unsubtle hatred of demonic cultivation practices.

When Jin Guangshan dies and Jin Guangyao takes over, Yanli can’t quite put her finger on what’s wrong, but she knows something is. So she decides to keep a close, close eye on Jin Guangyao. Easy enough, when most people assume she’s just a fragile widow. Funny how so many forget that her mother was Madam Yu, wielder of Zidian, and her brother, even if he wasn’t the evil monster everyone makes him out to be, was still the powerful Yiling Patriarch.

So, the years pass, and pass, and pass. Yanli misses her husband and her brother every day, but it becomes like scar tissue, rather than an open wound. Something she can bear.

When Mo Xuanyu is banished from the Jin clan, Yanli has a feeling. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen, but it feels like something is about to change.

And then it does.

Things still go the same, at first. Wei Wuxian insults Jin Ling’s maternal education, and Jin Ling draws his bow, because despite her prestige, Yanli’s subtle defense of her brother and her frequent visits to Lan Wangji and the small village close to Lanling are often the source of many rumors, and he will not stand people slandering his mother anymore than she already has been.

To the outside world, Jiang Cheng’s hatred of the Yiling Patriarch is well known, and he hasn’t talked to Lan Wangji personally in over a decade, so Lan Wangji still saves Wei Wuxian and takes him back to the Cloud Recesses. But as soon as he gets back, he sends a message to Yanli.

After helping the Grand Master get the sword spirit under control again, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji walk outside, and right into Yanli.

They stare at each other, for a few moments. He thinks she’s a hallucination, but then she smiles, tears streaming down her face, and throws her arms around him.

“I’ve missed you so much, Xian,” she sobs, and they collapse down onto the wood, still gripping each other, hanging on like the other might disappear at any moment.

They don’t have as much time to talk as Yanli wants. There’s a mystery to solve, and her son and younger brother to scold, and a Jin sect leader whose actions lately are becoming more and more hidden and suspicious.

She doesn’t want to let them go, but she has to. Even with her cultivation skills, if Yanli were to accompany them, it would draw dangerous attention to Lan Wangji. But she makes them promise to keep constant contact with her.

When they attend the banquet at Carp Tower, Yanli is able to help them navigate Jin Guangyao’s private quarters and make their way into the vault with the knowledge she already had from keeping a close eye on him.

And everything goes to shit anyways, because of course it does, but when Wei Wuxian is discovered, Lan Wangji is not the only one who stands by his side.

She and Jin Ling go back with them to the Cloud Recesses, but they separate after discussing Jin Guangyao’s betrayal. She takes Jin Ling to go to Lotus Pier and find Jiang Cheng, and Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go to the Burial Mounds. On her way, though, Jin Ling sneaks off, and without any idea of where he’s going, Yanli has no choice but to keep going to Lotus Pier.

She’s there when everyone gathers there. She’s there when Jin Ling skulks in, ready to scold him. She’s there when Jin Guangyao’s secrets are exposed. And she’s there when Jiang Cheng, swirling with anger and guilt, confronts Wei Wuxian, and the secret of his golden core is revealed.

Yanli cries, and she doesn’t stop Lan Wangji when he takes Wei Wuxian away. She follows Jiang Cheng instead, stops him after he asks a third person to unsheathe Suibian, pulls him to a private place and holds him as he cries, too. (She realizes, sixteen years too late, that her brother kept his promise to her. That technically, a piece of him has been with them the whole time.)

She goes with Jiang Cheng to the temple, but she’s no more resistant to Jin Guangyao’s manipulations than her brother is. He asks if she feels guilty about the death of her husband, about how he went out there to make her happy, and in the split second where she hesitates, he pulls a wire around her son’s neck and forces both her and Jiang Cheng to lock their spiritual energy.

Then Su She’s curse marks are revealed.

Yanli burns.

When the battle finally turns and Jin Guangyao is defeated, it’s not Lan Xichen who stabs him, and it’s not on accident. It’s Yanli, who has spent sixteen years mourning her husband, sixteen years mourning her brother, sixteen years trying to hold onto the family she has left. She drives her sword through his heart, and she closes her eyes, and she prays this will mark the end of her hatred.

Wei Wuxian leaves to travel the world. Need to taste all the different alcohols, he says to Yanli with a grin. She makes him promise to write her letters, and he does.

Despite his age, Jin Ling is technically the heir to the Jin throne. But Yanli refuses to let her son face these struggles alone, and she’s far more skilled in politics and negotiation than anyone expected. So even though he’s the sworn leader, Yanli is there to teach and guide him through the beginning of it.

After a year, she receives a letter from Wei Wuxian saying that he’s returning, and he’ll come to Janling after he stops in Gusu. She should be mad, really, that he wouldn’t come see her right away, but she has a sneaking suspicion about what he’s doing first.

The ceremony is small, hidden away in the private woods of the back hill in the Cloud Recesses. Only a few people were invited. Yanli is there, and so are Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng. It doesn’t take long—her brother’s never been a patient man, so it’s only a short amount of time before Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are husbands. Yanli smiles and hugs Wei Wuxian, and after a moment, Jiang Cheng’s arms wrap around both of them too.

and everybody lives happily ever after :)

#the untamed #cql #jiang yanli #yanli #long post #a lot of other characters that i'm not gonna tag #holy shit this got SO much longer than i thought it was gonna be #oof #my writing

143 notes · View notes

themattress · 3 years

Text

OUAT AND ME: SEASON 4

Story - The story for the first half of the season is the Frozen Saga and the story for the second half is the Operation Mongoose Saga. The Frozen Saga is about Elsa from Arendelle crossing over into Storybrooke in search of her sister Anna, bonding with Emma in the process and helping her face another Snow Queen who has a secret connection to both of them, while the Operation Mongoose Saga is about heroes and villains alike searching for the elusive author of Henry's storybook so that he can give them their happy endings.

The Frozen Saga is noteworthy for being the last time that OUAT was big in the mainstream, due to the ubiquitous nature of the Disney phenomenon it was capitalizing on not even a year after its release in theaters. And despite the initial apprehension of many, it's actually the Frozen elements that are the strongest part of this story. The flashbacks tell an interconnecting tale serving as the backstory of the present-day events much like the flashbacks of the Dark Curse Saga did, making excellent use of both Frozen and OUAT's established mythology. And the present-day story is all about the unexpected yet perfectly natural bond between Emma and Elsa, and it's honestly one of the strongest depicted friendships the show has ever had. The way the two of them are further linked through the Big Bad is also ingenious, bringing about a great feeling of cohesion to the narrative.

In fact, rewatching this arc after Frozen 2, it's kind of funny how I actually prefer it as a sequel to the original movie than the actual sequel! Like Frozen 2, this arc deals with why Elsa and Anna's parents left on their fateful voyage, the discovery of a secret from their mother's side of the family, a revelation of what the source of Elsa's power is, Elsa making peace with herself while Anna learns to be more independent and ends up marrying Kristoff, and a location called the Enchanted Forest. But it does so in a way that feels more true to the characters from the original film and avoids all of the pratfalls that Frozen 2 stumbled into. There's no over-its-head political message, no sisterly separation ending, and no Olaf.

Unfortunately, there are two subplots that put a damper on things. The first subplot starts off well enough, with Rumpelstiltskin returning to his former villainous glory as he sneaks and schemes and manipulates his way through a plan to obtain the power of the Sorcerer's Hat of Fantasia fame, but it sadly fails to stick the landing in a way that matches the build-up and there end up being no lingering consequences to it when there really should have been. The second subplot is horrendous, focusing on the increasingly skeevy romance between Regina and Robin Hood while also pushing Regina forward on a ridiculous quest to find the Author of Henry's storybook. Why? She believes some cosmic rule is preventing her from having a happy ending because she was written as a villain in the book (and not because, y'know, she was actually a villain in the past), and if she's rewritten as a hero she thinks that will change. Yes, that is the absurd idea that this whole subplot is founded upon, and the fact that everyone goes along with it as if there is an ounce of logic behind it is cringe-inducing.

Sadly, that subplot ends up becoming the plot of the Operation Mongoose Saga, which on the one hand gives Season 4 more connection between its two arcs than Season 3 had, but on the other hand it's so fucking stupid. Now, whenever it's Rumple leading around his villainous team, "the Queens of Darkness", to find the Author before the heroes can, things are fun and watchable in spite of the plot's stupidity. But whenever it's Regina and Robin's continued relationship angst or a horrendous new subplot about Snow and Charming having secretly been villains in the past by causing Maleficent to lose her child, it's tiresome and insulting. The finale, a two-parter actually named "Operation Mongoose", is highly enjoyable, but it can't fully wash away the taste of what came before it....or what it sets up to come after it.

Characters - Heroes and villains everywhere, and not always where you expect.

* Remember how in Season 3, Emma had a great character arc in the Neverland Saga but then it came to a halt in the Wicked Saga until the two-part season finale finally picked it up and resolved it? And that the Wicked Saga did her dirty by building her up as the only one who could defeat Zelena only for Regina to defeat her instead? Season 4 does kind of a repeating of these problems, except this time around they are a lot more glaring.

For most of the Frozen Saga, Emma has a great arc that's essentially her and Elsa's shared journey toward self-love; learning from each other to accept themselves and their innate powers without having to always rely on the approval of a loved one. But then, after a huge broo-ha-ha is made about how Emma must be the one to defeat the Snow Queen....she doesn't, and Anna barges in to help the Snow Queen see the error of her ways before Emma can lift a finger. She isn't even the one to save her own boyfriend from Rumple afterward, Belle does it instead. It makes Emma look like the definition of a Boring Failure Heroine.

And things don't improve for her in the Operation Mongoose Saga. Her roles are being subservient to Regina in spite of the abuse Regina had thrown her way in the previous arc, being unreasonably angry at her parents for keeping a secret from her, being vilified for daring to kill a heinous villain in defense of her son, going back and forth between being a friend or an enemy to her "dark half" Lily, and being hyped as the key to restoring reality to the way it was in the season finale...only for Regina, yet again, to end up taking that role away from her. I think it was Disney's insistence that Emma be tied to Elsa and have that arc in the Frozen Saga, because Adam and Eddy clearly couldn't care less about her.

* Snow and Charming....SIGH. In the Frozen Saga, Snow is the new mayor of Storybrooke...until the Operation Mongoose Saga, where she suddenly isn't anymore and Regina takes up the mantle again. Through both arcs, Snow reaches new levels of bad motherhood toward Emma while continuing to coddle Regina, which is not touching, it's creepy. Charming, meanwhile, is revealed to have been a long-haired coward during his shepherd days and owes his bravery and swordsman skills to Anna, which neuters just about any coolness he ever had. And then, of course, there's the egg-napping subplot from the Operation Mongoose Saga, where Snow and Charming are revealed to have stolen the egg containing Maleficent's baby, transferred Emma's darkness into it while Emma was still in Snow's womb, and then sent it away in a portal. All because of some nebulous prophesizing and interference from Isaac. And this revelation means, according to the show, that they were villains all along and thus all this time have been pious hypocrites who just do things the easy way rather than the right way. Doesn't Regina look so much better in comparison to them now? Because that's clearly the intent behind this fucking writing decision. Character assassination at its finest.

* Henry sucks, Henry sucks, Henry.....doesn't suck? Yes, for most of the season Henry is lamer than he's ever been, still being treated like a precocious kid character even though Jared Gilmore has clearly entered puberty. But then he ends up as the leading character of the season finale, and shockingly rises to the occasion. It concludes with him becoming the new Author, and this marks a turning point in Henry's character that has been a long time coming, which I will go more into detail about when I talk about the next two seasons.

* This is the season where Regina officially crossed the line into Mary Sue territory. She decides that Marian's reappearance means that she is being punished for being a villain...not because she actually was a villain, but because some Author dared to write her as a villain in a storybook, and that he needs to rewrite her into a hero so that she can get the happy ending that she's entitled to. And in true Mary Sue fashion, she warps the plot and characters around her so that nobody objects to this idea and instead whole-heartedly embrace it.

Every good guy in Storybrooke fights to help Regina get her happy ending, constantly repeating that she "deserves it" and has "come so far" even as she continues to act in ways contradicting that notion. In the end, she doesn't even need the Author since she gets Robin Hood back, gets the adulation of being a "Light Savior" who restores reality back to normal, and has Emma sacrifice herself to the Dark One curse in order to save Regina and her "hard-earned" happy ending. I think the scene that best displays the problem is in the flashback of the episode "Mother", where we see Regina in the past remorselessly murder a groom on his wedding day for no good reason, then immediately go cry over Daniel's grave since this is the anniversary of his death, and then we cut to present-day Regina mention how life always "kicks her in the teeth". Yeah, I kinda think life kicked that groom in the teeth WAY more. So where the Hell is the Author who's gonna give his poor widowed bride her happy ending?

* Rumple, for the most part, is great in this season. In the Frozen Saga, we see him going back to his Dark Curse Saga roots as he plays the role of the true villainous mastermind behind the female Big Bad, dealing and manipulating his way toward one single objective - in this case being to use the power of the Sorcerer's Hat to "cleave" himself from the Dark One dagger. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, he steps up as the direct Big Bad who leads a team of other villains in pursuit of the Author, under the promise that he can give them their happy endings. It helps that Robert Carlyle is clearly enjoying himself; that fun is infectious.

Unfortunately, there is a problem: Rumple fails to stick the landing in his last three episodes of both arcs. In the Frozen Saga, his failure to absorb Emma into the Sorcerer's Hat seems to drive him bonkers because he then rips out Hook's heart, relying solely on commanding him to do his dirty work all while ranting and raving repetitively about how when the stars in the sky and the stars in the hat are aligned, he will cleave himself of the dagger and he will kill Hook to do so, and that Hook better enjoy so-and-so because it'll be his last and blah blah blah. It's boring and silly, and Rumple's arrogance as he keeps saying it just makes his failure that much more pathetic. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, his suddenly revealed heart condition ends up taking its toll on him and he is ultimately unable to mount a final assault against the heroes on his own, requiring the far less impressive Isaac to do so instead. The "Light One" version of him that Isaac overwrites him with manages to put up a fight, but that's not nearly as good. Rumple as the Big Bad should have gone out with a bang, not a whimper.

* Hook remains one of the best characters in the ensemble, forced to reconcile his pirate past with his heroic present in both the Frozen Saga and the Operation Mongoose Saga. In the former, his fears of regressing allow Rumple to manipulate him into servitude, which Hook ends up fighting against until Rumple rips out his heart. In the latter, he contends with the way in which he'd wronged Ursula in the past, and with the help of Ariel (whom he also finally does right by), he is able to rectify his mistake and grant Ursula her true happy ending. I'm not really a big fan of his new modern leather jacket, though. The pirate coat was iconic!

* Following such a good Season 3 performance, Belle looks like she's on track to become even better at the end of the Frozen Saga when she finally sees Rumple for who he is and dumps his ass all the way across the town line. It was a powerful scene with some great lines from Belle, and by all logic it should have been the end of her and Rumple as a romantic pairing. They needed to be done after that, with Belle now being free to develop her character entirely apart from Rumple. But of course, Adam and Eddy would never allow that, so all she does in the Operation Mongoose Saga is date a man she doesn't actually love to soothe her heartbreak, fall passed out on the floor, have her heart stolen by Regina and then have it recovered by Rumple which causes her to inevitably crawl back to him at the end of the finale. As the next seasons will show, this damaged Belle's character beyond repair, turning her into the very Stockholm Syndrome-afflicted abuse victim that stupid detractors of the Disney version always claimed she was. This isn't a love story anymore. It's a horror story.

* Robin Hood is a regular for this season in all but title, being present for many episodes in the Frozen Saga and even getting his own focus episode in the Operation Mongoose Saga. If there was any chance of salvaging this horrendously misused character, it died the moment it showed that he still desired a relationship with Regina even after learning that she was the one who killed Marian, which would have stuck if not for Emma and Hook's time travel adventure. I'm sorry, who does that!? That is not realistic human behavior! And it only gets worse when he ends up deliberately and vocally throwing away his honor code by cheating on Marian with Regina while Marian is frozen solid and could possibly die! Oh, but Marian ends up being Zelena anyway, so all's cool. No! All's not cool! Why did this show make Robin Hood into such a lame character!? It's especially a disservice to Sean Maguire, who's a smooth and funny guy in real life and the Robin Hood he plays utilizes none of his charm.

* And then we have the regular in title only, Robin's former associate Will Scarlet, carried over from Once Upon a Time in Wonderland. Of all the screwed-over regulars the show has had, none can compare with Will Scarlet. He does little of interest in the Frozen Saga except for enticing viewers with various mysteries about who he is, why he's here and what's he up to...and those mysteries get absolutely no pay-off in the Operation Mongoose Saga, where he barely shows up and when he does is mainly just Belle's new boyfriend (whom she scarcely interacts with directly!) so that Rumple can get jealous and more determined to find the Author. In the end, Will Scarlet is a nuisance who has fuck-all to do with anything that's going on in the season, leaving viewers scratching their heads as to why he was included to begin with. I can't believe that in his last speaking appearance, the show actually has him deliver the line "I warn ya, I'm scrappy", to which Rumple replies "All right, Scrappy." It's funny because Scrappy, in the TV Tropes usage of the word, perfectly describes Will here.

So, what went wrong? Well, originally the Wonderland spin-off was meant to take place during Season 2 of the main show, with the originally filmed pilot making this explicit. So Will in Season 4 was to be the Will we have after the Wonderland Saga's conclusion, meaning somehow he'd gone back to Storybrooke and regressed back into a selfish, self-esteem lacking, seemingly heartless thief separated from his true love Anastasia / the Red Queen. Highly unoriginal of Adam and Eddy, but whatever, there were still plans to move forward with him as a character on the main show. But those plans failed to materialize and Michael Socha spent a lot of time on set doing nothing, a miserable experience which he was very vocal about afterward. And what was Adam and Eddy's excuse? "It’s just, you know, there’s just so many…there’s just so many people that it’s like, it’s sometimes hard to do that story and sacrifice Regina’s story. That’s just showbiz." It all comes down to Regina. Of course.

In the end it's for the best that the confirmation of the Wonderland Saga as taking place in Season 2 never happened in the pilot we actually got, since Will's existence in this season only makes sense now if it was happening before the Wonderland Saga rather than after, thus my headcanon will always be that Will's fateful break-in to Granny's was after it closed up on the night "Operation Mongoose" ended on rather than the night of the wraith attack.

* Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Sven, Hans, Grand Pabbie, Oaken, the Duke of Weselton, and the former King and Queen of Arendelle are all lifted from Frozen to OUAT, and for every character that required an actor they got an actor who perfectly brought the animated movie character to life. They are also written accurately as well, with Elsa naturally being the stand-out given how much she gets to do and the bond she forges with Emma. And then there are the new Frozen characters invented for the show: Elsa and Anna's aunts - the deceased Helga and the icy-powered Ingrid, who is also the Frozen Saga's Big Bad, the Snow Queen. Ingrid, played beautifully by Elizabeth Mitchell, is essentially what Elsa might have become if Anna hadn't been so unconditionally loving toward her - her mind warped by her past pain and trauma, embittered toward all normal people, and willing to cross any moral boundary to find a family and place to belong to. Her connection to Elsa and Anna is perfectly exploited, her interactions with characters like Emma and Rumple are fascinating, and her ending where she realizes the error of her ways and sacrifices her life to reverse the damage she's done is the show's most beautiful, emotional send-offs for a villain since Rumple's death.

* The Queens of Darkness are Rumple's cohorts in the Operation Mongoose Saga who also desire the Author to write them a happy ending. The initial group is the trio of Maleficent, Ursula and Cruella De Vil, and it's later revealed that not-so-dead Zelena is also a member.

Maleficent, in spite of being played competently by Kristen Bauer van Straten and having great fashion sense in both worlds, is the weakest of the initial trio, since she is saddled with the mind-bogglingly stupid eggnapping subplot. Ursula isn't actually reflective of the Disney version of the character (Regina already did that in Season 3) and is more like a dark version of Ariel in regards to her backstory. She also isn't nearly as villainous as her peers and naturally she is redeemed rather quickly and easily as a result. And then there's Cruella De Vil, who is not a fairy tale character so everyone feared how she'd come off. Well, she's not only the best of the trio but one of the show's best villains, period. Victoria Smurfit looks, sounds and moves like the cartoon character made flesh, backed up by strong writing that makes her both funny and menacing - especially the latter when it comes to her backstory, a twisted little tale that subverts the show's usual "evil isn't born, it's made" mantra HARD.

Zelena.....SIGH. Like I said before, Adam and Eddy were dropping obvious clues that she wasn't really dead at the end of Season 3, which begged the question why they did a fake-out death to begin with. Apparently, it's because of this season's twist where, with almost no foreshadowing whatsoever, Marian is revealed to actually be Zelena in disguise, having traveled back in time with Emma and Hook and then killed the real Marian in order to take her place. She's revealed to then be pregnant with Robin Hood's child (since he slept with her thinking she was Marian...therefore, she raped him) before being hauled right on back to Storybrooke prison again. It's awful writing, salvaged only by Rebecca Mader's performance.

* We get some welcome returning characters this season, including Sydney Glass, Blackbeard, Ariel, Cora, and against all expectations August Booth. There are some interesting new side characters introduced as well, such as warlord Bo Peep (yes, really), Ursula's father Poseidon played by the great Ernie Hudson, and the Sorcerer's Apprentice, keeper of the Sorcerer's Hat and the Author's boss, meaning he naturally plays a major role throughout the season. The Author himself is Isaac Heller, played by Patrick Fischler, and he turns out to be a surprise villain who abuses his powers to influence events, which an Author is not supposed to do. While I wish he didn't take over the Big Bad position to such a degree in the finale, Isaac is still a very entertaining villain, especially when he's playing off of Regina and Rumple. His sardonic and cynical attitude also make him the perfect foil to Henry.

And then there's this season's biggest waste of a new character: Lilith "Lily" Page. There are three major problems with Lily. First of all, her origin - she's Maleficent's child that Snow and Charming kidnapped, passed all of Emma's natural-born darkness onto, and sent through a portal when she was still in an egg. It's so utterly stupid. Second, she is played by a Latino actress as a child only to have a white actress playing her as an adult. How does that work!? Finally, for all of the build-up she receives, she and her story go absolutely nowhere after she is reunited with her mother. They even make a point of giving her a scene toward the end about wanting to find who her father is, and that never gets followed up on. Even worse, the next story arc is all about Emma going dark, which Rumple had been trying to make happen throughout this arc and Lily was linked to, and yet Lily, her literal dark half, ISN'T involved!? Honestly, Mal from Descendants made a better "daughter of Maleficent" character! MAL!

Atmosphere - The Frozen Saga's atmosphere is very...Frozen-y; I don't really know another word to describe it. At least whenever it's focused on the Frozen characters. The Rumple subplot gets progressively darker to the point of becoming unpleasant, while the Regina subplot is just romantic and existential angst 24/7. These atmospheres don't fit in with the Frozen one at all, which is a testament to how Adam and Eddy are going the wrong direction with this show. Once the Operation Mongoose Saga happens, the atmosphere of the show goes insane, flip-flopping back and forth between family fairy tale wholesomeness to dark and disturbing and depressing to campiness on a level that feels off even for this show.

Episode Quality - For the most part, the Frozen Saga's episodes are perfectly fine and entertaining, although stretching out the 8th episode, "Smash the Mirror", into a two-parter was a horrible idea that cost the show terribly in the ratings. The only two standouts of badness are the 5th episode, "Breaking Glass", which introduces Lily in the flashback story while the present day story is all about Emma just having to sit back and take Regina's verbal abuse in spite of doing nothing to deserve it, and the final episode, "Heroes and Villains", whose only redeeming quality is the scene with Rumple and Belle at the town line, which doesn't even have lasting consequences. For the rest of the episode, we either spend time giving the Frozen cast a rushed, underwhelming send-off, having Rumple continue to abuse Hook while none of the idiot heroes catch on, fixating even more on Regina's angst as she has to let Robin Hood leave town in order to "save" "Marian", and watching a stupid Rumbelle-based flashback introducing the Queen of Darkness trio. In short, the episode is more the start of the Operation Mongoose Saga than it is the end of the Frozen Saga, which feels like a slap in the face to the last thing that made this show relevant to the mainstream.

And the Operation Mongoose Saga's episodes....actually got a lot better on a rewatch!? Don't get me wrong, this story arc is BAD. But when you detach yourself emotionally from the show and its characters, it becomes So Bad It's Good. It's as if the entire saga is Isaac's fanfiction; after all, it truly got started in "Heroes and Villains", and that's the name of Isaac's book in the "Operation Mongoose" two-part finale. Some episodes are unironically fun: "Darkness on the Edge of Town", "Poor Unfortunate Soul" and "Sympathy For the De Vil", but the other episodes are also fun when you just embrace how batshit crazy this whole story is and just enjoy watching how these poor actors are struggling to make something out of the material, and it's just as much fun when they fail as it is when they succeed. "Heart of Gold", the Robin Hood focus episode that reveals the Marian = Zelena twist, is one I have a soft spot for, because between Mader and Carlyle's acting, the scene of that reveal is hilarious.

Overall - Season 4 is basically the inverse of Season 2. Whereas Season 2 was horribly structured but a lot of strong material in either writing or acting was able to make it stronger than the sum of its parts. Season 4, on the other hand, has a solid structure with two inter-connected story arcs, but the material gets so increasingly shoddy that it doesn't matter. Until Seasons 6 and 7 came along, this was definitely the weakest season the show had to offer. If you don't mind a So Bad It's Good quality, then you should stick with the entire thing. But if you only want something that's actually good, then just watch all of the Frozen material.

#Once Upon a Time #ABC #OUAT and Me #Opinion #Analysis

5 notes · View notes

deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

Warmth: Act - 11

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Disclaimer: This is only the first 1000 words of the chapter. If you would like to read the rest, click here!

Warnings: none

Masterlist: (coming soon)

Watching your memories has always been such a strange experience. Though these memories were your own, you almost always felt as if you were some invasive onlooker keeping tabs on the issues of a family to later bring to the gossip circle. Almost. An ogling intruder doesn’t feel the massive swirl of emotions you’re feeling. Anger. Fear. Sadness. Even confusion. An intruder doesn’t feel the sting when you’re slapped across the face or the wetness of your tears slowly descending down your cheeks.

Your father looked as if he was going to say something when he lowered his hand. Instead, he looks at you as if he were slapped across the face as well. The sight of you crying, let alone you backing away from him in fear instead of running up to him with excitement like you normally did, extinguished whatever frustration he was feeling moments before when you suddenly turn and ran away from him.

Naturally, you pick up the pace to follow yourself. You don’t get the chance to, not when the sound of someone violently coughing their lungs out immediately grabs your full attention. Watching your biological father double over himself, droplets of blood and spit spilling out over his hand and on the ground almost puts you right back to that same instance in your first year of life. Except, there was no loving wife there to help him up or scold him back inside to rest. Instead, the 3 uncles who clearly accompanied your father along to revel in the fallout happening before them begin to sprint over to your father. They’re halted by your brother drawing his sword and pointing the tip at them. Such a bold action is easily met by their own blades being brandished.

“You! You would dare raise your sword against us?!” your eldest uncle, Yasutoshi, snarls at Kotaro.

“Yes, I would,” he blankly says, his experience as a soldier evident over his calm composure. “Have you all forgotten the oath our family has taken and upholds to this very day? We are not to bring our family affairs past the walls of the shrine.”

“Y-You’re one to speak!” Yasuaki, one of your younger and not so influential uncles, stammers out. “You’re just an adopted son!”

Yasukage, one of your quieter but concerning uncle, doesn’t hesitate to join the bandwagon against your brother. “If there’s anyone who is stepping out of line it would be you. Why don’t you head back home and coddle your snakes while we take care of our family affairs?”

This isn’t the first instance your uncles have used the fact your brother is adopted as some excuse to cast him aside or get a rise out of him and you doubt it would be the last. Unfortunately, it’s the one thing that never fails to rile him up, you as well if you were present. You can’t help but to cover your eyes and turn away, fully expecting him to lash out like any provoked snake would.

“That’s enough, all of you,” your father’s gentle, yet somehow superior voice cuts through the tension with ease. “I think it’s best if you all leave.”

His brothers take no issue to his command. They’ve achieved what they wanted, stirring up the already delicate nature that is your relationship with your father. Your brother makes it very clear he has no intention to withdraw without needing to utter a single word. He refuses to sheathe his blade, even as your uncles obediently do so first.

Your father insists to him, but with how stubborn you have come to know him you know he won’t budge unless you were the one to tell him to. It’s a bit funny to see your uncles go from stunned to enraged over your father’s quick understanding and compliance with your brother's intentions. They don’t seem to like how much of a pushover your old man can be when they aren't the ones doing the pushing. They’re smart enough to know to take the defeat with some grace. You know better than to think that their obedient retreat was out of respect for your father’s orders.

Kotaro doesn’t hesitate for even a moment in his next move. Perhaps it was simply karmic retribution towards your father for hitting you, as he removes his scabbard from its place in his obi and smacks him on the head with it. A crisp ‘CLACK’ sound rings out once it connects and it has you reaching up to soothe your untouched head on instinct. Your father could have easily stopped it had he been in his prime. The complete absence of effort to block or dodge just goes to show how far he has fallen from his former self.

"Is your illness starting to make you go senile?" Your brother rhetorically asks. "What happened to your 'dialogue first, action later' philosophy? You didn't even bother let her finish her piece.”

"I didn't mean to strike her," is all he can pathetically say in defense of himself.

"Then what did you mean to do?" He lifts his scabbard once more as if to strike you father over the head with it again. The white Saya does lower, but not over the head of the vulnerable man in front of him. Instead, he sighs out as if defeated and returns his weapon back into its spot by his hip.

"It's been accepted by everyone that you won't make it past winter, and it's currently autumn. Instead of spending these few estimated weeks being a father, you're allowing your pathetic family to play you like some toy and jeopardize your relationship with your child," he rambles. "Is this really what you want her to remember you for? That her own father prioritized her studies instead of her own well-being?"

"It's because I don't have much time left that I need to prioritize her studies!" he snaps. "That's why I... She needs to understand that-"

"Stop," you brother interrupts. "Whatever reasoning you have for acting the way you’ve been, tell it to her yourself."

"You say that like It's simple."

"It is simple!"

Continue reading on AO3

Previous chapter | Next chapter

#ikemen sengoku #ikemen sengoku writing #ikemen sengoku fanfiction #ikemen series #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #ikesen #ikesen writing #ikesen fanfic #writing #ao3 fanfic #otome #cybird #fanfic: warmth

3 notes · View notes

green-ball-of-trash · 4 years

Text

Roman in The Closet by Himself!! Part 1

word count: 2202

ship: Prinxiety, Background Logicality, Background Remile, vaguely mention Demus.

part1/part2/part3/part4/?

WARNINGS: self deprecation, depression, repression, non-censored cursing, the word wh*re is used and it not censored, lgbtq+phobia is mentioned in this chapter but not directed at any of the characters.

summary: Roman has a rough journey with his sexuality, and his crush on a certain little emo~

Roman had always been enraptured with the concept of love. He could remember watching Disney movies when he was younger, where the prince rescues the princess and they both live happily ever after.

Although, he was never really focused on the princess of the story but more so on they heroic prince. He always thought that Prince Phillip was so much more interesting than Arora, but his little child mind couldn’t understand nor explain why that was.

Until he was ten years old~

He had been looking at Disney videos on his ipad, when he discovered a peculiar video with a rainbow flag in the thumbnail. He thought that all the colors on the flag looked pretty, so he decided to click on it.

He heard phrases in the video that he had never heard before, such as; gay, trans, homosexaul, bisexual, pansexual, and so many more and he had absolutely no idea what they meant. Even though he had no clue, he watched the entire video. After the video was over, he got out his red notebook with Disney stickers plastered haphazardly all over the front and back cover.

He decided to rewatch the video again and write down any words that he didn’t understand, and look them up after he was finished. Logan is gonna be so proud of me, he had said to himself thinking of his quiet nerdy best friend.

He spent the entire day learning things like pride, non-bianary, gender fluid, and more. He felt like he had opened his eyes to a completely new world and he was so excited about it. He had no idea there were so many different types of amazing people. He was so… Excited!

His parents were busy with work downstairs, and his brother was over at a friends house so he took it upon himself to spend his entire day learning and watching videos on this community of people. It was impossible to learn everything in a day, but he was determined to try.

He listened to and read people’s stories on the internet, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t cry. Why were people so mean to them? He had asked himself, why are there so many mean people in the world? They were just being themselves, why couldn’t people just be proud of them? What Roman didn’t know at the time, is that he would have a few stories of his own like that in the future.

A few weeks later, he was on the swings with his best friend Logan. Swinging back and forth with the breeze as they talked about anything and everything, non-sense and Disney, jokes and laughter, serious topics and funny stories, until Roman decided to bring up some of the stuff he had learned to his friend. He kicked his legs back and forth carelessly as he spoke, “hey, Lo?” Logan had looked at him, as Logan wasn’t swinging nearly as much as Roman was but more just drifting to and fro with the wind as he talked with his flamboyant best friend, “yeah Ro?”

Roman grinned for a minute before speaking, “have you heard of LGBTQ+?”

Logan had nodded at his question, “yeah, my dads talk about it all the time.” He said in a nonchalant manner. Roman groaned, frustrated “AWWW, I thought I learned about something that you didn’t..” Roman stopped his swinging, skidding his bright red shoes across the ground to stop himself.

Logan chuckled and pushes up his glasses, “sorry Ro, but I know everything.”

Roman stared at Logan throwing his hands about as he spoke, “that's not fair.” he said the last word dragging it out like it was the end of the world.

Roman had met Logan’s dads before, yet he never knew what LQBTQ+ meant and he didn’t know that a lot of people thought it was a bad thing. He thought it was awesome that Logan’s dads loved each other, even before he knew that they loved each other if that made any sense. To Roman it made complete sense in his ten year old mind.

Roman then got an idea, “Hey Logan, there was some things I didn’t understand when I was lookin’ up stuff about it. Do you think you could answer some of my questions?”

Logan looked a little excited to teach Roman, and they spent the rest of the time on the swings not swinging but talking. Talking about something that would be very important to them one day.

7 years later~

Roman was seventeen, and he was the most popular kid in his highschool, everyone had taken a liking to his outgoing nature. His best friends Logan, Patton, and Virgil were popular right along with him. There was only one thing that bothered Roman, his sexuality. He was terrified, from the bottom of his heart he was terrified because ne knew that he was not straight in any sense of the term. He was as curved as a rollercoaster and the ride made him feel woozy and nauseous.

He knew that the vast majority of his school would hate him for being the way he was, so you know what he did? Like the scared little closeted boy he was he ran into the deepest corner of that closet and hid like a little toddler in hide and seek, only he wasn’t a toddler and this wasn’t hide and seek, this was hide for your life. At least that was what it had felt like to him.

He knew that his friend would accept him, since Patton had come out to them in freshman year as Pan to him, Logan, and Virgil, it had lead to Logan coming out to them as gay demisexual, and then a year later in there sophmore Virgil coming out to them as gay. They promised to support each other and never ever tell anyone else. It was like their own little pride group, only Roman was an ally… Or so the others had thought.

Roman knew that they would accept him. Of all people who knew that he could come out to them, and it was okay. But his heart leapt up into his throat and his knees buckled and the mere thought of it. He could just imagine their judgemental glances, thinking he was only saying it because he wanted to feel included, “you’re not really gay.” He would imagine them saying, “are you doing this for attention?” “if you were gay then why have you been telling us about all your straight crushes for years?” He had made up crushes to stay in the closet “you’re so dramatic! Just shut up and we can forget you even tried to pull off this whole charade.”

I part of him knew they would never do that, but it was a very small part of him, it was like a tiny ball of light shining in the darkness of self deprecation that he had created within himself. He pretended to be so confident, he was a great actor ‘but that was the only thing he was great at’ He would say to himself like a father scolding a child for doing something wrong, only the child was priding within himself and the father was a cold old man with no joy and wanted his son to live a dry cold life never thinking higher than an inch of himself.

“Princey? You okay there?...” he hadn’t noticed that he had started to zone out with another one of his spirals into the dark clouded space that was his mind. ‘No’ he said to himself and only himself. Virgil would think he was such an attention seeking whore if he ever told him anything that went on in his head, “I’m fit as a fiddle Hottopic, sorry I zoned out, I was just thinking about Valerie. Her hair looked so pretty today.” He said with a smile that didn’t seem to reach his eyes. Valerie was amazing, she was really fun to hang out with and yes her hair actually did look pretty today but to Roman he felt nothing but platonic love for her. And when he would pretend to have a crush on her, especially to one of his best friends….. He felt as though someone was stabbing a knife into his heart, his weak little heart that throbbed at anything and everything. He was so weak he would tell himself. His heart was a bruised and pin pricked as a baby rabbit that got into a fight with a porcupine, and oh how his heart loved to jump and do summersaults like the little rabbit it was in the presence of the emo sitting next to him.

But the thing was it hurt so so much worse when he lied to Virgil. Virgil was so caring, he was kind to all of them, and he loved hanging out with him. Virgil was just so funny, and cute, and smart, and handsome, and- he stopped his thoughts, halting them and pushing them as far back into his mind as they would go. It was getting a lot harder to get rid of them lately. Virgil got a sad sort of look in his eyes but Roman didn’t notice, he was to busy gay panicing. “Thats sweet Roman. You two would be cute together ...” Virgil trailed off, sort of spacing out himself as Roman had just a few moments ago.

Roman clapped his hands together and stood up with a plastered smile on his face, startling Virgil almost knocking him off the bench that they had been sitting on. They were at the park, just talking. Roman turned toward Virgil and uttered a quick apology before spilling his idea to his monochromatic friend, “We should go get ice cream!!” Virgil chuckled at Roman’s excitement, and blushed under his porcelain foundation, “sure thing, if you promise to stop yelling” Virgil pulled on his hoodie strings, “people are starting to stare.” he said the last part with breathless sort of panicked whisper only loud enough just for Roman to catch it.

They spent the rest of the day just walking around town, laughing and enjoying the company of one another. Roman’s little heart jumped into his throat everytime he heard that beautiful laugh of Virgil’s, it was like looking at the sky and letting the sun hit your face. You can’t open your eyes and look directly at it though, because you might go blind at its unending beauty. Even if Virgil didn’t think so, he was the sun, the moon, the stars, and the clouds all bundled up in one amazing person and oh how he shined.

He was always there when you needed him and he was the most hard working person Roman knew, even if Virgil ran into days where he couldn’t even speak because of his anxiety disorder Roman thought he was so strong to have even got out of bed on those days. And he made sure to tell Virgil how strong he was everyday, and if Virgil couldn’t find his voice that day. Roman would speak for him to faceless strangers at school who wanted to speak with Virgil, although Logan and Patton would do that as well, it seemed to have affected Virgil more when Roman did it. It made Virgil feel warm and gooey on the inside, feelings that someone with a hard emo persona like his should never let themselves have but he had them and he loved how they made him feel. But he could never feel that about Roman, because Roman would never feel that way about him and that wasn’t something that he could change and that was just the way the world had to fuck him over.

The universe had made a little emo gay boy who was obsessed with My Chemical Romance and black eyeshadow, fall in love with his straight best friend. What a painful story trope. Only his best friend wasn’t actually straight, a fact that he was oblivious to, and this wasn’t a cheesy romance story this was their lives. Virgil looked down at hits ice cream, enjoying the treat quietly as he listened to Roman gush and rant about Hamilton or whatever musical he had decided to talk about.

They had arrived at Virgil’s house and said their goodbyes, with halfwitted insults with no venom in the words. It was their usual routine and they were both content with the way their relationship was. But they were just content, both of them wanted more but they would never admit that to themselves or each other. Roman walked home, with everything swirling around in his head and he laughed with a sort of dark emptiness. What a day.

To be continued~

OH MY GOSH THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE!!! Idk how much fun it was to read or how many people will actually read it, but I hope at least a few people enjoy it. this first part was out earlier than I had expected! When I get the next part out then I will link it on this part and tag anyone who wants to know when it comes out. I hope you enjoyed~ my friend that pitched me some ideas: @akane-mukami she is amazing and beautiful please go show her some love!

taglist:

@mostpeopleannoyne

@www-dot-ohshit-dot-com

@icequeenoriginal

@espepspes

@rats-this-username-is-taken

Green~~

109 notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 5 years

Text

Summary: Javier messes up his first impression when you meet him. Embarrassed, he results in only speaking to you in Spanish, as he's too nervous to mess up again.

Pairing: Javier Escuella X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3668

Rating: SFW Tags: Speaking Spanish, Friends to lovers, First kiss, Fishing, Dancing, Slow dancing, Fluff, Slow burn.

Notes: I love the idea of Javier being a super nervous guy, so of course i’ve gotta write it!!!!! Requests always open!

Read on AO3 Read English only version

You were new to the gang. They had saved you after O'driscolls had slaughtered your animals, burnt your crops, and set your farmhouse on fire. Your home and family were gone. They originally showed up to rob your home whilst you slept, hearing of your comfortable income, but it soon became a gang war and the Van Der Lindes were quick to take your side. You were saved and taken in. They offered you safety back at their camp, and you quickly accepted their offer, not having anywhere else to go.

They seemed to have some morals. Arthur had told you on your way back to camp how a while ago, the gang went to rob a carriage, only to find it had women and children inside, so they left them to it. They later heard that the O'driscolls robbed the same carriage later down their path, and slaughtered everyone.

You were thankful they were here, even if it was to originally rob you.

Clemens Point. It was a lovely camp, south from where you lived, and close to Rhodes, a somewhat local town for you.

You arrived during the dead of night in the company of Arthur, Lenny, and Hosea. Arthur helped you off his horse whilst one of the women put a blanket around you and took you over to their tents, reassuring Arthur that they would take good care of you.

You were frightened, shaking. You had every right to be.

Hosea explained everything to Dutch, and he calmly welcomed you to the camp, telling you you could say as long as you wanted to.

You felt safe.

The next morning you awoke before everyone else, though your night's rest was interrupted with nightmares. You got up from your temporary bed and made your way to the campfire, warming yourself up by it as the cold morning air surrounding you. A short while later you could hear someone approaching you, you turned, somewhat startled, but calmed quickly as you saw it was only Arthur approaching. "Mornin Miss (L/N), didn't mean to scare ya'," he said as he sat beside you. "Oh, it's not your fault. I'm just so on edge, but I'll calm eventually," you replied. "You take your time. You have every reason t'be feelin like this," he lit a cigarette as he spoke. "Mhmm," you said as you nodded.

The two of you sat in silence for a while. By the time he had finished his cigarette, most of the camp was awake. Arthur offered you a hand as he stood up and said he'd introduce you to everyone. You smiled and accepted it.

Arthur took his time introducing you to every member the two of you came across. They were all so lovely and welcoming, though he didn't introduce you to Micah as he said "this ones a rat, whole camp hates him. Dunno why we keep him really, Dutch's orders I suppose," and shrugged.

Sean seemed overly welcoming and had the personality of someone who was constantly tipsy, though he may be. He makes sure to let you know that you'd feel like a member of the family in no time. Charles gave you his deepest condolences and offered you a shoulder to cry on if you ever needed it. Along with offering to take you hunting if you ever wanted a distraction. Swanson said he would pray for your speedy recovery and assured you your family would be very welcomed into heaven. You wondered why a man of God was drinking himself to death.

The two of you continued to wander around camp. "Ahh! There he is!" Arthur said as he gestured to the tanned man helping himself to a cup of coffee. "(Y/N), this is Javier. He's a real charmer," Arthur teased as he nudged you. Javier looked up at you from his coffee and you could have sworn you saw him tense up. His eyes widened slightly, and he came to a halt, somewhat in shock. "Well don't just stare at her, Javier. Say hello to the lady. This ain't like you t'be ignorin' a woman," Arthur said to him. "Uh.. Hola," Javier sheepishly replied. He seemed shy.. no, stunned? Maybe he hadn't woken up yet. "Hello, Javier," you replied to him. "Dutch found Javier years ago after he fled Mexico, it's a long story," he whispered the second half of that sentence to you. "He didn't speak a word of English when we met him," Arthur smiled. "Sorry, uhh.. excuse me. I've not woken up yet," Javier blurted out as he rushed off to the other side of the camp, staring at the ground as he walked. "That was weird. Normally Javier is more.. Javier, I guess. Ain't seen him so sheepish before, especially not around a woman," Arthur apologized to you. "Oh it's okay. I hate first impressions, maybe he does too?" You replied. "Mhmm. Ah well, plenty of time to get t'know him," Arthur said as he poured you both a cup of coffee then continued his tour around the camp.

Later on that day you insisted that you return to your house to collect whatever was left there. Valuables, belongings, food, etc. Arthur warned you how emotional it'd make you, but came with you on the journey.

Your house was ruined, vanished, forever gone along with everything inside of it. There was nothing to save. The Barnhouse, however, was still standing and untouched. You went inside to collect a few things: weapons, a tent, some photos that were pinned to the work table in there, and a few more things. Feeling somewhat relieved, you headed back to camp, shedding a few tears on the way. You had a bittersweet feeling on the tip of your tongue, as if you had just buried that chapter of your life, and could begin a new one.

Charles helped you set up your tent. You decided to camp next to Arthur, as the space next to him had a beautiful view of the lake and beach, and because you felt safe camping next to someone who had helped you so much. He later left you to have some time alone. You sat against a tree and watched the sunset, hoping when the sun rose the next day you would really feel like this was a new chapter for you. There was no going back, only forward. You assured yourself that you can't stand around looking over your shoulder at the past, you must keep moving on.

As night had fallen, you decided to go and socialize a bit. Drinking seemed to be a very big social activity in this group, so you took a beer and sat yourself down at the fire with some others. They welcomed you as you sat.

You mostly listened, learning more about them as a group and individuals. You quickly picked up on small things: Uncle spent most of his time asleep and complaining, John and Abigail were somewhat together and Jack was their son, Dutch had a very fatherly role and had raised some of the members, Micah was one of the newest members to the gang, etc. As you people watched, you couldn't help but notice Javier sat diagonally to you. You noticed how his eyes would sometimes flick over to you, he would regularly rub the back of his neck, lick his lips, bounce his leg. "Why are you fidgetin' so much, greaser?" Bill asked as he sat beside him. "It's annoyin, stop it," he grumbled. "It's the bugs, Bill. They're all over me tonight," Javier shrugged. You felt it was a lie. "Well fuckin' swat em 'n' stop it," Bill replied. "Trying my best here, amigo."

One by one they either passed out or went to bed. "Goodnight," you said to John as he got up and made his way over to his tent. "G'nite you two," John replied. The two of you, referring to yourself and Javier - the fidgety one, the one who had barely spoken to you, the one who ran off when you first met. 'Thanks, John,' you thought as he left. Not in a mean way, just you were unsure what to talk about. Though you liked a challenge, so you perked up and began speaking to Javier, which caught him off guard. "So, Javier. How did you join the camp?" You asked him. "I, uhh..," he paused and rubbed the back of his neck. "Dutch me encontró," he replied. "What?" "Dutch me encontró. Hace mucho tiempo." "I don't understand what you're saying," you said as you squinted. "Oh Dios. No se como hablar contigo. Eres hermosa y estoy luchando por no hacer el ridículo," he spoke as he rubbed the back of his neck yet again. "Lo siento. Me voy a la cama. Buenas noches." Javier stood up and quickly walked off, making his way to his tent. You watched as he plopped himself down on his back, crossed his ankles, and pretended to sleep. 'What the hell.'

Every encounter with Javier was the same after that.

Weeks had passed. The gang felt more like home as the days went by.

By now you fit in very comfortably with everyone, even Javier who continued to only speak Spanish to you. Everybody questioned it, Arthur had even told him off for it, saying it came across like he was trying to be unwelcoming to you. A good few members of the camp found it funny, and you didn't really seem to mind. His confidence had picked up a lot after the first week, by now he spoke to you as if he was speaking to anybody else, just not in English.

You had just finished your camp chores and found the rest of the sunny day free to do as you pleased. You wandered around camp, seeing what everyone was up to. Near the horses sat Javier, fiddling about with some fishing gear. By now, you had developed some questionable feelings towards the Mexican. The two of you had technically never spoke, but you often found yourself dreaming about the stunning tanned man. You adored his long hair, tucked away in his ponytail, shorter strands sharpening his strong face. You hoped he'd one day tell you how he got the scar across his brow and one along his neck, in English hopefully. He was always dressed so smartly, which wasn't surprising as he was often cleaning his shoes or brushing the dirt off his clothes. He wore one of your favourite outfits today. Black trousers, white shirt, black waistcoat, and orange necktie. He was hatless today, though you did enjoy the sight of him in his bowler hat. You approached him.

"Whatcha doin there, Mr. Escuella?" you asked him. You rarely called him Javier, and your excuse for that was that he'd never introduced himself in English. So until he began to speak English, you would only address him formally. It made him laugh, you enjoyed teasing him. "Solo estoy preparando algunos artículos para ir a pescar," he replied as he looked up from where he was sat. "Oh, looks like you're sortin' out some fishing equipment," you said as you properly looked into what he was doing. You often did this, taking notice of whatever his current task was. Seeing as he'd never tell you what he was up to. "¿Quieres venir?" Javier asked as he signaled to the two of you, then to the lake. "If you're asking if I wanna come, then yeah, I do," you smiled. He smiled back and stood up. "Vamonos," Javier replied as the two of you made your way over to your horses.

You climbed onto (H/N), who surprisingly had survived the attack that night. Your horse must have fled when the attack happened, but later showed up at the camp. You assumed (H/N) had tracked you and followed you here. They were a smart horse, well bonded with you. They reminded you of home, but in a happy, loving way. You were glad someone had survived.

Javier took you to a small lake, a couple of minutes away from the camp. You didn't bother hitching your horse, giving them some time to wonder about and relax. Javier stayed silent as he got his rod out and began baiting up, you did the same, standing beside him. The two of you cast out, going in opposite directions. You decided to break the silence. "So when are you going to start speaking to me in English?" You asked him. "Pronto, tal vez," Javier shrugged. "I hope you just said soon," Javier nodded at you. "Oh, lovely! Nice to know there is a light at the end of the tunnel," you smiled.

Javier didn't reply as he managed to get a bite. You had heard he was a good fisherman but didn't expect him to catch anything within seconds of him reeling out. He reeled in a decent sized fish, unhooked it, and placed it into the bag beneath his feet.

The afternoon continued to drift by as the two of you fished in silence. Silence wasn't that bad, you guessed it wasn't as different as the two of you talking, considering you never understood what he was saying. The two of you had reeled in a decent amount of fish, all going to be ruined by Pearsons cooking later. You saw in the corner of your eye Javier yawning. "Want to head back soon?" you asked him. "Cinco minutos mas," Javier replied. You recognized that 'cinco' meant five, and minutos clearly meant minuets. So you assumed he said 'five more minutes.' Your translating train of thought came to a halt as you felt a harsh tug on your rod, much harder than any you'd ever felt. Javiers eyes snapped open as he saw you get pulled forward slightly by your rod. "Eso es un gran bocado," Javier said as he watched you panic and begin to reel in the monster of a catch. "Oh shit!" you yelped as it yanked you forward again, almost knocking you over. "A little help please, Javier!" Javier dropped his rod and rushed to stand behind you, arms reaching round to grab a hold of your rod, one of them on top of your own. You could feel Javier tense up as he helped pull on the rod, the two of you surprised by how much this beast of a fish was fighting. Javier let out short pants, his breath tickling your neck. You became too aware of how much he was pressed up against you. It felt like he was using helping you out as an excuse to press up against you, and you definitely didn't mind.

Another harsh tug snapped you out of your daydream as you were yanked forward again. Javiers quick reaction saved you from falling into the lake as he quickly grabbed a hold of your waist. His hand quickly went back to help you reel in your catch, clearly not wanting to cross too many lines. You felt your back press against his shoulder as you leaned back. The two of you fell to the floor as the line snapped, maybe you shouldn't have put some more weight onto the rod. You felt Javier hit the floor underneath you, your back against his chest as you fell on top of him. You were quick to roll off him, looking at him to see if he was alright. "Shit! Sorry! I didn't mean to squish you," you said to him. "Estoy bien. No puedo creer que se haya escapado," Javier replied, leaning up to prop himself up on his elbows. You couldn't help but laugh about it. Javier smiled at you, glad you were enjoying yourself. "It's a shame we didn't catch it!" You said as you laughed. "La próxima vez," Javier said as he stood up.

Javier offers you his hand to help you up, to which you gladly accepted. You couldn't help your chest feel warm as his skin pressed against yours, rough palms against each other. Once you were up, Javier let go. It felt like he was embarrassed, maybe awkward. You questioned what his feelings were toward you, if maybe he viewed you as more than a friend. Javier picked up his stuff and whistled for his horse, you did the same. The two of you had a quiet ride back to Clemens Point, though talking wouldn't make much difference.

By the time you were back, the sun had almost set. Whilst away, Dutch had announced they were going to have a party tonight. It was nice to see everybody so lively for once. They were always lively, and drunk, but something was different about tonight. You wandered around the party, helping yourself to the beer crate whenever you passed it. You felt a comfortable tipsy level, and more social and friendly than usual. John had spent a long while drunkenly telling you how glad he was that you'd joined the gang, and how well you fit in here. Sean jumped into the conversation and heavily agreed with him, saying you're a 'lovely lass,' and that hes glad you decided to stay. You couldn't help but smile as the two of them praised you. In the distance, you saw a familiar figure sat alone at the table. You excused yourself and went over to them.

"Need some company, Mr. Escuella?" you asked him as you approached. "Siempre necesito tu compañía, hermosa," Javier replied as he gestured for you to sit down at the table. You took your seat. "Why are you sat all alone?" "Solo estoy pensando." "Something on your mind?" You asked. He nodded. "Me pregunto cómo empezar a hablar contigo. No puedo evitar estar nervioso a tu alrededor. Tu me vuelves loco." "Ah, Javier. When will you learn that I don't understand what you're saying?" you sighed in a jokey tone. Both of you looked over your shoulders at the sound of Dutch turning on his phonograph and turning it all the way up. He asked Molly to dance with him, who obviously accepted. Javier snapped his head back around to look at you. "Quieres bailar conmigo?" he asked you. "Sorry Javi', I dunno what you're saying," you shrugged. Javier pointed to the two of you, then to Dutch and Molly. "Are you asking me to dance, Mr. Escuella?" You asked him. "Sí," he replied as he nodded. "I'd love to," you said. Javier sprung up from his seat and offered you his hand, which you happily accepted and both made your way to the 'dancefloor.'

Javier's other arm found its way comfortably around your waist, as your joint hands raised slightly. You put your spare arm on Javier's shoulder, enjoying the feeling of touching him and being held. The two of you swayed in time with the music, your chests very few inches apart. "So, Mr. Escuella. Why is it you can only speak Spanish to me?" you asked. "Como dije antes. Eres hermosa y, por una vez, estoy demasiado nerviosa para hablarte inglés. Me preocupa arruinar mis posibilidades," Javier explained, as if you would understand him. "Sorry, but I didn't understand a word of that. I think the translating part of your brain might be broken? Is there anything I can do to fix it?" you jokingly asked. "Podrías besarme. O simplemente ser mía para siempre," Javier shrugged. You exaggerated a sigh. "Maybe we're just never meant to speak," you teased. "No digas eso." "You know, when I was a kid, I used to read loads of fantasy books. I read this one where a princess once kissed a frog, and it turned him into a prince. Do you think that would work with you?" You asked him. "No me convertiré en un príncipe, pero no rechazaré un beso tuyo," Javier replied as he nodded in agreement. "Well then," you said as your other hand left Javiers and found its way around his neck. His other hand met your waist and pulled you in against him. "I hope this works," you smiled.

Javier lent in to finally meet your lips, something the two of you had craved for so long. You could feel his arms slip tighter around your waist as he pulled you against him more as if he had been longing to touch you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, fingers then trailing up to run along your hair, as your lips softly moved against his. He exhaled softly as he pulled away from you, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

"Did it work?" you asked as you slowly pulled away. "It did, but I may need another one, just to make sure I don't turn back," Javier flirtingly said. You smiled and wasted no time meeting your lips against his again, this time for much longer. You could overhear someone cheering the two of you on, which made the both of you laugh mid-kiss.

The two of you pulled away and his hand found its way around your waist again. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his cheek lean lightly on your head. "Do you want to know a secret, Javier?" You asked him. "Okay," he replied. You leaned up to whisper into his ear. "Yo también hablo español." You laughed as you felt Javier stop dancing and tense up. "You mean.. this whole time?" "Sí," you replied, laughing. "Oh dios, esto es tan vergonzoso," he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know, I think you're beautiul too. And I've always been nervous to speak to you," you reassured him as you kissed his cheek. "Well I'm glad I haven't made too much of a fool of myself," he replied. "Eh, only a little bit," you teased, as you leaned in to kiss his lips once again, knowing this kiss would be far from the last.

117 notes · View notes

flamehairedwritings · 4 years

Text

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Nine

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

By The Light of the Silvery Moon

Arthur, John and Dutch were gone for the rest of the day. Nothing to usually be concerned about, but she’d overheard Hosea talking with Abigail, saying they’d gone to see Angelo Bronte to get Jack back.

Angelo fucking Bronte. To fucking get Jack back.

She couldn’t believe Arthur had gone with her. He should have left with John, he should have been running to help them get Jack, but instead he’d gone with her to do something they could’ve done when there were slightly less pressing matters to attend to. Why the hell had he gone with her? No matter what way she thought about it she couldn’t wrap her head around it. One minute she was incensed, the next she was touched, the next she was mortified, the next she was just plain confused. She’d considered that maybe it wasn’t that strong a lead, but immediately shot herself down, almost laughing, with the fact that none of those men would leave without Jack, no matter what.

Sadie found her, almost mumbling to herself, frowning at the water from where she sat on the jetty after dinner.

“Somethin’ on your mind, lady?” Sadie said, taking a seat beside her with a groan.

Ada exhaled a breath and shook her head. “No, just...”

Now hang on a minute...

This was something she could talk with Sadie about without divulging any information about herself.

Thank God because if I don’t talk to someone about it I will go insane.

Licking her lips, she looked at her. “Arthur came with me to visit Sean’s grave earlier.”

“... Yeah?” Sadie prompted when she just stared at her, arching an eyebrow.

Ada shook her head slightly, her hands palms up. “He came with me when he’d just told John that Dutch was in Saint Denis and they were planning on getting Jack, today, now.”

“Yeah?”

“Sadie,” she paused to let out an incredulous laugh, “... He came with me to Sean’s grave instead of going to rescue Jack. He prioritised coming with me rather than getting Jack, it’s insane, I don’t understand it.”

Sadie looked at her. Then she burst into laughter. Ada pulled her head back, staring at her.

Maybe I’m not the only one going insane.

“Excuse me, what the hell is so funny?” she demanded as Sadie grinned, a hand over her stomach.

“Dear Lord, my sweet summer child,” she laughed, rubbing her stomach. “You sweet thing...”

“What?” Ada demanded again.

Her chuckles subsiding, Sadie fixed her gaze on her, amusement dancing across her features. “Annie, that man likes you.”

Ada stared.

Now that was one option she hadn’t quite entertained, because...

“No. No. No.” She shook her head, pulling a slight face as she looked back at the water. “No, that’s... No, he can’t.”

“He ain’t that disgustin’, is he?” Sadie laughed.

“No, no, it’s not that...” Far fucking from it. “It’s just... He can’t.” She nearly implored Sadie as she said it, nearly begged. Because he couldn’t. Any way she thought about it, he just couldn’t. She had an undecided death wish against his adopted father, she was Michael O’Driscoll’s daughter, Colm O’Driscoll’s niece, she, well, she was her, she was just Ada, it didn’t make any sense.

And it completely complicated things.

“Whatever you say, honey,” Sadie chuckled. “But I know infatuation when I see it, so you’re either callin’ me dumb or you’re just in denial.”

“Infatuation...” she breathed the word, half-laughed again.

This wasn’t part of any plan. Not that she had a plan. But this certainly wasn’t part of it. Yes, he was kind to her and he was nice and considerate and he made her laugh and feel safe and respected but he only did that because... Well, there was no sane reason for it. Other than that he... Well, no, there was a sane reason; he was a good man.

Sadie just watched her, smiling. “You think any harder about it I think your brain’s gonna fall out. Just relax, woman. Just take a chance, if you like him, which I think you do. It ain’t no bad thing.”

Oh, but yes it is.

“Hang on, you think I like him?” she asked.

“Like I said, I know infatuation.” Sadie nudged her with her elbow. “Just relax. Live your life. Take all the good things that come, Annie, you know we ain’t been gettin’ many of ‘em.”

Well, she wasn’t wrong there. But a whole lot of catastrophic badness could come from this.

If there was ever a time to start drinking.

“Hey, do you think we—”

A woman screamed. Both of them were on their feet in seconds, staring towards the main path, three riders cantering down it.

Then they realised it was a delighted scream.

Glancing at each other, they ran for the house.

Dutch, John and Arthur came through the darkness, pulling their horses to an abrupt halt, and Susan gave another delighted cry, clapping her hands together, though Ada didn’t quite know why she was so—

“Hey, they’re back!” Uncle called out, rising from the log he’d been sitting on. “I... I think I see Jack!”

Ada’s heart stopped as she and Sadie slowed as the rest of the group convened. And he was right. There the sweet boy was, sat with his father.

“Abigail!” Dutch called out, a wide smile on his face. “Abigail! We got you your son, everything—”

“We got him!” John cut in with a grin as he saw Abigail. “He’s fine!”

“Mama!” Jack shouted, grinning and looking so like his father.

Abigail cried out as she ran through the group, tears falling down her cheeks as she beamed. John dismounted and lifted Jack out of the saddle, putting him on the ground as he continued, “I’m fine, Mama, they fed me good, Italian food. You ever eat that?”

“Come here, you silly boy,” she wept as she fell to her knees and pulled him into her arms.

Ada closed her eyes for a few moments as she listened to them.

Thank God. Thank God.

She didn’t even want to think about what would have happened had something happened to the boy.

“Now let’s celebrate!” Dutch cried, and for once she was happy to obey.

Dismounting, Arthur watched as Abigail cried and cried and held her son as he babbled on about what a great time he’d had while they’d all been pulling their hair out.

Meeting Bronte had been... Well, he was certainly a different kettle of fish. He was a new kind of criminal, one that operated in broad daylight, had a fancy home on a fancy street, everyone knew what he was doing and no one dared to stop him. He’d caught Dutch’s admiring gaze, at both the house and the man who owned it. Arthur didn’t like any of it.

He thought about what he’d written in his journal while he’d waited for them all to join him at Shady Belle.

‘I cannot decide which I like less, the swamps or the city. Both are full of parasites, reptiles and slime. We’re a long way east of land we know, and far from real open country.’

How he longed for fields and wide open spaces where you didn’t meet anyone for miles.

He also didn’t like how easily Bronte had got them to do his bidding, but, well... Then again he did have Jack. But, he was back now and that was all that mattered. For now. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he followed the rest of the group to the main camp fire. Ada, Sadie’s arm looped through her’s as they walked along, looked back at him and gave a wide smile. It warmed his chest as he smiled, inclining his head. He wanted to speak to her but Hosea appeared at his side, clapping him on the back and asking for every detail on Angelo Bronte.

Javier was already tuning his guitar and starting to strum out a tune as people opened crates and passed around beer and whisky bottles, taking seats on whatever they could or standing and swaying to the music. Dropping their arms, Sadie sat on the log as Ada stood, folding her arms and smiling as she watched the group. This was when they were at their best; singing, happy, sharing alcohol, not a care in the world because they had this win, despite what would face them once against tomorrow.

“For you.” Lifting her head, Lenny smiled at her as he offered her an open bottle of whisky.

She raised an eyebrow as she smiled. “You know I don’t drink.”

“Come on, girl,” Uncle chimed in from where he sat beside Sadie. “We’re celebratin’ ain’t we? One won’t hurt.”

Glancing at him, Sadie and Lenny, she sighed and accepted the bottle. “Fine, fine, if it’ll get you all off my back...”

Raising the bottle to her lips, she took a sip... and instantly nearly choked on it. She managed to swallow it down as they laughed, pulling a face and hissing through her teeth as the amber liquid burned down her throat.

“Oh, God... Oh my God, that’s awful...”

Sadie cackled as she took the bottle from her, shaking her head. “Well, hey, at least you tried it.”

“Yeah, and I’ll never try it again.” Ada coughed, still cringing at the taste. “Does anyone have any water?”

Charles handed her a skin of water, a smile tugging at his lips, as Sadie laughed again.

“You’re all awful,” Ada declared before taking a large sip of water, washing the taste out of her mouth.

“Awh, I’m proud of ya,” Sadie grinned, patting her leg as she handed the skin back to Charles.

“I absolutely despise you.”

Sadie’s cackle was soon drowned out by the sound of Javier striking up a new, rousing tune that they all around the fire began to sing with him. Ada watched them all, folding her arms as she coughed again. She couldn’t help but smile, though. At their very best.

Her gaze travelled them, going from person to person, until it reached Pearson’s wagon, Micah and Bill talking beside it, drinking, and a foot or so away, leaning against a table, Arthur.

“Ay, ay, ay, ay!” the group yelled out, raising their chosen drinks at the apparent chorus of the song, as she moved over to him, smiling lightly.

He raised his eyebrows as she approached, returning her smile.

“Well, that was entertainin’ to witness.”

She snorted. “I’m sure it was. I’m so grateful to have so many friends around for that rite of passage.”

“It grows on you.”

She wrinkled her freckled nose. “I don’t think I want it to.” She looked him over as he chuckled. “How was it, getting him back?” she asked, her voice lowered.

He shrugged, taking a breath. “Easy enough. We just had to sort out somethin’ for Bronte, nothin’ too bad. That was it.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “That’s extremely fortunate.”

“Yes, it was.”

She could sense that troubled and perplexed him as much as it did her and she opened her mouth to ask more when Karen’s voice suddenly cut across Javier’s ending song.

“Annie! Come ‘nd sit with me, Annie, c’mere.” Karen, who had started drinking even before Jack had returned home, gestured her over, patting the chair next to her that had just been vacated by Pearson.

Ada met Arthur’s gaze, a smile pulling at her lips. “Excuse me.”

He smiled as he watched her do as she was bade, sweeping her skirt out under herself as she sat. Like a proper lady.

Karen slapped her hands onto her knees as Ada sat, squinting her eyes a little. “How come you ain’t married, Annie? You’re so pretty, I bet you’ve had suitors at least, you must’ve.”

Ada’s eyebrows rose slightly as she glanced between the women watching her intently and a few of the men taking the time to drink.

“Well, I did have a couple when I was younger, yes, but nothing came of them.”

“Awh, you didn’t love ‘em?”

Ada smiled lightly as she shook her head, her hands in her lap. “No, I didn’t.”

"Are you a romantic, Annie?” Mary-Beth asked with a smile, her lovely face slightly flushed from the alcohol.

“Not particularly.” She shrugged, playing with the material of her skirt. “I declined them more out of practicality, they had nothing to offer.”

Karen released a laugh, raising her bottle to her lips. “That’s my girl.”

“How’d they court you?” Mary-Beth leaned forward slightly.

“Ah,” Ada waved a hand. “The usual, flowers, mediocre poetry, asking to dance with me when we had town dances.”

“Oh, that’s so nice,” Mary-Beth beamed.

“Not particularly.” She went on as Mary-Beth looked puzzled, “It just made me uncomfortable because I knew it wasn’t real, they didn’t mean it. It felt performative.”

Karen laughed again. “Jesus, God help the man who tries to charm you.”

“Amen to that.” Glancing up, Ada met Sadie’s twinkling gaze, raising her eyebrows.

Ada’s lips twitched as she shook her head, looking into the fire.

Hell... Yeah, God help him.

The conversation seemed to be over when Karen began to sing along with Javier, laughing at nearly every line. She wished she could join in. They always sang songs she’d never heard of, ones that Ada didn’t think anyone would dare write, ones that were gently sweet, and some she couldn’t understand because of the language they were in. But it was entertainment enough to see Karen, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Susan, Uncle and Lenny sing along, as drunk as they were. It was the only time Susan and Karen got along, too.

She laughed and clapped her hands along to the music, though, as Uncle and Mary-Beth danced together to the fast tune, laughing themselves. It tugged at her heart a little, the happiness.

God, I wish Sean was here.

Her throat suddenly dry, she stood and moved behind the chairs to Pearson’s wagon, needing a drink.

“You and I should go out for a drink in Saint Denis sometime, I promise not to lose you this time,” she heard Arthur say to Lenny, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Oh, God, Arthur, I think not,” the young man replied, laughing even as he pulled a face.

Arthur chuckled, patting him on the back before he saw her at the wagon. Moving back over to it, she lifted a skin of water.

“Can I offer you a water, too?”

“Sure.” As joyful as the night was, he just didn’t feel like drinking the hard stuff.

He took the skin from her as they both leaned back against the table, watching the revellers by the fire.

“You’re not going to ask anyone to dance?” she asked, a smile pulling at her lips.

He huffed out a laugh. “I ain’t much of a dancer.”

“Maybe I could teach you sometime.”

Glancing at her and her smirk, he arched an eyebrow as he took a sip of water, handing it back to her. “Oh, you’re that good are you?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“By one of your many suitors?”

Her smirk widened as she shrugged. “Yes. And many others.”

“How lucky we are to have you, Miss Sawyer.”

She laughed, and he looked at her, the little lines that appeared at the corners of her eyes as she did, the curves of her nose and lips, the curls that framed her face.

Ask her to dance.

She looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something when she suddenly looked beyond him, frowning slightly. Following her gaze, he saw Dutch striding out from behind the ladies’ wagon, Molly following close behind him. Neither looked happy.

“Oh, Christ...” he muttered as he straightened, already knowing what was about to come.

“You have ruined my life!” Molly yelled at Dutch, the music and singing luckily keeping the group occupied. Or they were just too polite to stare. Or used to it.

“I see things differently,” Dutch shot back, lighting himself a cigar.

“I’m sure ye do.” Molly sounded drunk, and close to tears. “Ye see everythin’ differently.” She sniffed then shook her head fiercely, halting. “Just leave me alone, ye bastard.”

Dutch just continued on, smiling and joining the group as if nothing was amiss.

"Are they all right?” Ada asked Arthur quietly.

“Nah,” Arthur sighed. “Haven’t been for some time.”

She followed him as he rounded the corner of the house, watching to make sure Molly actually made it inside. She did, tripping on the side-door step slightly, unaware of both of them watching. Shaking his head, Arthur continued to walk along the side of the house, Ada beside him.

“Why doesn’t she leave?” she asked, her voice lowered.

“Where would she go?” He gripped his belt, shaking his head. “She ain’t got nobody else. Like all of us.”

She frowned. “But to be this unhappy, though? Rather than free?”

His jaw moved slightly as he exhaled a breath. “You gotta have money to do that. Molly’s money is Dutch’s money and he don’t give her much if any ‘cause she don’t contribute. Better to be unhappy and secure, she probably thinks.”

“That’s so sad,” she murmured.

“I guess.”

She didn’t want to dwell on the tricky topic, though, not tonight, not when they’d just got Jack back safely. Clasping her hands behind her back as they wandered across the grass at the back of the house, her eyebrows rose a little.

“So, Saint Denis is an interesting place.”

Arthur chuckled, grateful for the change in topic. “Yeah. Could be some business to be made.”

“With street urchins?”

“Christ, don’t bring that up again,” he muttered.

She smiled broadly. “It’s not often I see you flustered, Arthur Morgan—”

“I was not flustered.”

“Rattled, then.”

“I was not rattled—”

“Shaken. Traumatised. Overcome.”

“I was none of those things,” he muttered. “I was just faintly surprised. The kids were a second or two quicker.”

“I think age is catching up to you.”

He snorted. They came to the small fishing shed that sat at the back of the property, Arthur slowing to let her move up the steps first. He followed her along the wooden walkway that wrapped around it and moved out onto the back landing. She exhaled a slow breath as she leaned back against the shed, her arms folding across her chest. The lights of Saint Denis shone in the distance, beckoning and welcoming.

“It’s so bright,” she murmured as Arthur leaned his hip against a barrel, raising his gaze to the lights.

“Yeah, and loud, and busy.”

She smiled. “You just don’t like people at all, do you?”

He glanced at her. “Not particularly.” She was certain he was mocking her earlier words.

“Another sign of age.”

“I am not gettin’ old, I just have my preferences.”

“That’s exactly what an old man would say.”

“Will you shut up? I’m tryin’ to enjoy this joyful night.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You are a bossy man, Mr Morgan.”

He looked at her, raising his eyebrows. “Am I?”

She lifted her chin, nodding. “Yes. Extremely. Been bossing me around since the moment we met.”

“Why’d you agree to come with me, then, in Strawberry?”

“Lesser of two evils.”

He chuckled, shaking his head.

Her gaze lingered on him as they fell silent, biting at her lower lip. She liked their silences, liked how comfortable they were but... It always gave an opportunity. An opportunity to ask one of the hundreds of questions she had, the comfort and ease they shared in each other’s company making it always seem like the right time to ask.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah?”

His gaze returned to hers. She shifted her position against the shed, her hands behind her back.

“Colm said you were going to leave me. That you tried to escape.”

He blinked, shifting his own stance slightly. Now how long had she been thinking about that?

“I didn’t know what I was doin’. Half outta my mind, I think.” He inhaled a breath, shaking his head. “I thought I could hear Ophelia close by and I thought if I got to her then I could go to get help, but then I didn’t want to leave you with them.”

She was quiet again, and he could practically see the thoughts rolling around in her mind.

“Why did you come for me after, when we were at that farm, when you’d escaped from the cellar?"

“Ain’t we already talked about this?” He exhaled a laugh. “You really have such a hard time believin’ I can do the right thing sometimes?”

She smiled lightly. “It’s not that, I just... you barely knew me. We meant nothing to each other. You could have gotten yourself away with no trouble at all and not wasted the last of your energy. I would’ve no longer been your responsibility, then.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You either have a hard time believin’ I can do the right thing, or that someone would do somethin’ right for you.”

She scoffed, opening her mouth and closing it. Well... Now... Agreeing to either one of those... was just going to lead to complicated conversations that she certainly didn’t want to have.

He watched her, slightly flustered as she was. He decided to help her out, shrugging a shoulder as he looked out across the water.

“Either way, I’d do it again.”

She looked at him, a slight fluttering in her chest. Lord, she needed answers.

“You went with me today, too.”

He glanced at her, pausing. “Yeah.”

She licked her lips. “You went with me instead of going to get Jack.”

She couldn’t read his features. “Yeah?”

God, is anyone sure he and Sadie aren’t related.

She lifted a hand, probably looking as helpless as she felt. “Well, I don’t understand why, Arthur.”

He studied her, silence stretching between them.

“You wanna know why I saved you and why I went with you?”

She nodded a few times, her gaze locked on his. “Yes.”

“Because you’re the most irritatin’ woman I’ve ever met.”

She blinked, her head pulling back slightly. “Excuse me?”

He pushed away from the barrel, beginning to move closer to her.

“You’re irritatin’ and stubborn, difficult to read and understand, sometimes a damn fool and I couldn’t bear the thought of leavin’ you behind. ”

She stared at him, her heart beginning to beat a little faster as he approached, his voice lowering.

“And I can’t stop thinkin’ about you. You make me feel somethin’, Ada. Most of the time it’s annoyance but sometimes it’s somethin’ else.”

She laughed, the sound short and breathy. “You really know how to charm a lady, don’t you?”

He smiled and placed his hand on the wood beside her head, and it made her heart stutter. “You prefer I was like one of your suitors? Bringin’ you flowers and writin’ pretty poetry?”

Her lips twitched at the thought. “I’d like to see you give it a try.”

He tilted his head. “You ain’t one of them girls, though, are you, Miss Adaline? You’re a practical woman, if I remember rightly."

Oh, God, his voice...

“What can you offer me, then, Mr Morgan?” she murmured, her head leaning back against the shed.

“Nothin’.”

She thought she saw his eyes, possibly, briefly, drop down her body.

“Good, because I don’t want anything from a scoundrel like you.”

“Yes, you do,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over one of her curls.

“What could I possibly—”

Dipping his head, he caught her lips in a kiss. Her words vanished with a soft sound as she paused, her eyes automatically falling shut. The sweetness of the kiss caught her more by surprise than the actual act. Maybe because she had wanted him to kiss her.

Just as she went to move her hand to his shoulder, it suddenly ended, and his head was drawing back as she blinked her eyes open.

Gone was the easy, arrogant manner he’d had only seconds before, now he looked entirely apologetic.

“I’m sorry, that—”

She exhaled a sharp breath.

“For Christ’s sake, Arthur...”

Her hand slid around to the back of his neck and she pulled him close again, claiming his lips this time in a firmer kiss. She had to rise up on her toes to actually meet his lips, and her other hand gripped his shoulder to steady herself. He wasn’t moving.

Oh, Lord, had she now made the mistake?

Why—

His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her tight against him, eliciting a faint sound from the back of her throat that had him pressing his fingers into her side. As his lips moved against hers, he lowered his head and pressed her against the wood, their bodies flush. Her lips parted wider with a gasp when his tongue swept across her lower lip.

Nobody had ever kissed her like this before. Her previous kisses had been, well, like the previous kiss, gentle and sweet, but she didn’t want gentle and sweet.

She wanted this.

She could faintly taste whisky on his tongue as it stroked against hers, he had possibly had one drink earlier when she hadn’t seen, and he was right... she could grow used to the taste. His grip around her was firm, and his other hand had moved to cup her jaw, his thumb stroking along her cheekbone. And the way he kissed... how did anybody ever learn how to kiss like this? Oh, Christ, she didn’t want to think about that right now.

She just hoped she wasn’t terrible.

What if I am?

Why was she so in her head?

Stop it—

Another gasp was suddenly pulled from her when she felt his hands on the outsides of her thighs, and he lifted her, her skirt rising to her knees, stepping between her parted legs and holding her against the wooden wall. The kiss had broken with the action, and she couldn’t stop the breathless smile that broke across her lips as she gazed down at him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other hand on his chest. One corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other as he held her gaze.

There was his fire. Blazing brightly, joyfully.

“I told you that smart mouth was gonna get you in trouble, Miss Ada,” he drawled, his voice rougher, lower, and it sent the most delicious of feelings through her.

“You really are a dumb man if you think it was unintentional,” she answered, in barely above a whisper, not quite knowing where her voice had gone.

“Still won’t shut up, huh?”

“I think you made a valiant effort but—”

She was made to break off, once again, when his lips touched her neck. Her breathing halted for a moment as he began to press slow, open-mouthed kisses to her skin, her mouth remaining open as her eyes closed.

Oh, sweet Lord...

Warmth began to pool between her legs and her fingers itched to soothe the slow throbbing that accompanied it.

What would Arthur’s fingers feel like?

She moaned. It was quiet, but it was most definitely a moan; that they could have both agreed upon. They probably could have both agreed upon the fact that he growled in return.

His tongue swept over her skin, briefly, but it caused another moan.

What would his tongue feel like, too?

He shifted his stance slightly, pressing a little closer against her and... She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh.

Oh, my God...

What would his cock feel like?

“Finally got you quiet, huh,” he murmured, just under her jaw, and she inhaled sharply.

“Technically not quiet,” she breathed.

“And I don’t mind at all.”

Her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck as she tilted her head down, prompting him to lift his own.

“Kiss me,” she murmured.

And without another word he did. It was urgent and firm and all she could feel and taste was him. All she wanted was—

“Ring-dang do..."

He had her back on her feet in seconds. Smoothing her blouse down and hoping she didn’t look as flushed as she felt, she turned and moved away from him, before wrapping an arm around her waist as she pressed the fingers of her other hand against her lips.

And she had to fight very hard to stop a smile.

“... ringer-danger... Dang...”

Arthur cleared his throat from somewhere behind her. Not quite able to tear his gaze from her yet, he tugged his waistcoat down, and hoped his hard cock wasn’t showing too prominently through his trousers. Running his hand through his hair, he leaned back against the barrel once more and exhaled a breath, finally looking away.

Kieran rounded the corner, his feet heavy on the wooden boards, his shoulders slumped. Looking up, he stopped singing,

“Oh, hey... Hey, Arthur...” His drunken gaze drifted over to Ada. “... Oh, Annie, hey...”

Ada turned, her arms folded and a light smile on her lips. “Hello.”

“Sorry, I, I thought this was the other shed, I’ve been, I sleep in there, sometimes.”

Arthur pointed behind Kieran, gripping his gun belt. “That’s back that way, pal.”

“Oh, right, thank you...” He looked between them both, then laughed suddenly, and it was the first time she’d ever seen him smile. “I am really drunk,” he continued, grinning.

Arthur couldn’t stop a slightly bemused smile himself, his eyebrows raising. “That you are. Some sleep will do you right.”

Kieran nodded, still laughing even as he turned to head back the way he came. “Yeah... Ring, dang... Dang do~...”

Ada watched Kieran stagger off, hoping he wouldn’t fall down the steps and fall straight into the mud. Then, her gaze returned to Arthur. His eyes were already locked back on her. Her near-giddy smile from before returned.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Arthur Morgan.”

“You bossin’ me about now?”

“Yeah, I think you like it.”

He chuckled. “I think I do.”

They looked at each other, the need and want still there, but the moment gone. She could feel the flush on her cheeks and the wetness between her thighs as she bit at her lower lip. He took a breath and cleared his throat.

“It’s getting late.”

“Yes, it is.”

He nodded towards the house.

“I’ll walk you to your stand.”

“How kind.”

“I heard there’s a scoundrel about.”

She laughed, the giddy, almost nervous energy still spreading through her as she moved across the planks to the stairs. She could practically feel his eyes on her back. A lesser or weaker man would have grabbed her again and just carried right on, but... It was almost more arousing that he didn’t.

But why wasn’t he? Oh, stop, it’s the sensible thing to do, you idiot.

They walked in silence, Ada playing with her hands and feeling like a teenager, Arthur willing his erection to go away quicker as his hands gripped his belt, hoping that would aid in covering it somewhat should someone pass them. But no one did, all too busy still dancing and drinking and singing or sleeping.

He wanted to kiss her again, to feel her against him once more but he’d already pushed his luck and gotten gold. No, he’d be a damn gentleman and show some restraint.

They slowed as they neared her stand, and she turned to him, a pink flush on her cheeks and a warm twinkle of fire in her eyes, a smile on her lips.

“Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, Miss Sawyer.”

He watched her walk the rest of the way to the stand.

God damn. Holy shit.

Running his hand down his mouth, he shook his head at himself, heading towards the house. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d think about the consequences. Now, he’d think about what a damn lucky man he was.

Ada woke slowly, one arm wrapped around her pillow. She guessed it must either be 8 or 9 in the morning, though camp was still quiet, people either sleeping off the alcohol or taking advantage of the general good mood to have a lie-in. Turning onto her back, a smile was instantly tugging at her lips, as if the memory of the night before was just waiting for her to wake up so she could relive it all over again.

She had never felt like that before. She’d been aroused before, sure, when she’d conjured images in her mind of the brave heroes in her books, but never had it been like last night. Last night had been... She couldn’t even begin to describe it. It had been something good, something that had felt right...

Get some breakfast and coffee in you before you become a giddy girl again.

Pushing her blanket off, she pushed herself up onto her knees and stretched with a gentle groan. To her right at the small camp fire was Charles and Lenny, the former having a cup of coffee, the latter fast asleep. John was stood guard at the front entrance, probably because he was the most sober person to take a watch, surprisingly. Then again, he’d gone straight upstairs with Abigail and Jack once they’d begun to celebrate. She smiled at the thought of their quiet, private reunion as a family. Casting her gaze further along to the main camp fire, she saw the girls were up, probably due to Susan not allowing them a lie-in despite everything. Sadie was there, too, sipping from a cup. Lifting her head, she met Ada’s gaze and waved. Ada waved back, her smile widening.

She’ll laugh so hard she’ll probably choke when I tell her about it. Can’t wait for the ‘I told you so’.

Rising to her feet, she pulled her boots on and made her way over.

Karen sat with her head in her hands, taking long, slow breaths. Mary-Beth looked a bit bedraggled, sipping her coffee every few seconds and staring at the fire. Tilly had her eyes closed, a bowl of uneaten porridge in her hands. Sadie was the only alive looking one, cleaning the rifle that lay across her lap.

“Good mornin’!” she greeted Ada cheerfully, making the other girls snap out of their dazes and look up, smiling weakly.

“Good morning,” Ada replied, just as cheerily.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Sadie handed her a full cup as she sat, wrapping her hands around it. “Mmh, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Catching Sadie’s eye, she just smiled as the older woman gave her a very knowing look.

“Where’s Arthur off to in a hurry?” Tilly croaked, her throat stripped dry by alcohol and singing.

Ada’s head whipped to the side and they all watched as he strode down the porch steps, past the fountain and to Ophelia, mounting quickly and urging her onto the road and down the main path. Ada frowned as Karen groaned.

“I hope it’s nothin’, I don’t wanna deal with anythin’ today.”

“Nah, he just got a letter from Mary,” Mary-Beth said, her voice almost as hoarse as Tilly’s.

Ada paused.

A relative?

"How do you know?” Tilly said.

Mary-Beth sniffed, massaging her temple. “Herr Strauss went out early this mornin’ to see if we had any mail. I asked who had mail, I’m expectin’ some nice writin’ paper, and he said Arthur and Pearson did. I recognised Mary’s handwritin’ on the letter.”

“You gotta stop bein’ such a stalker, Mary-Beth.”

“Who’s Mary?” Ada asked as nonchalantly as she could, having had to stop herself from cutting Tilly off.

Mary-Beth dropped her hand into her lap after shooting a look at Tilly. “He and Mary used to be an item years ago, they were engaged at one point. Then it just broke off.”

A coldness prickled down her spine.

“Why?”

“She doesn’t like all of this, wanted him to change, and her daddy didn’t like him. I think he still loves her, though.” Mary-Beth pulled a face. “I think she’s mean for usin’ that, though. Keepin’ pullin’ him back, givin’ him hope whenever she needs help with somethin’.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Karen mumbled, pushing herself up and stumbling towards the nearest tree.

Tilly and Mary-Beth were too busy turning away and tutting at Karen to notice Ada staring at her hands, still. Sadie looked at her, her lips pressed together a little.

“Don’t think anythin’ of it,” she murmured gently so only she could hear.

Ada just nodded, taking a sip of her coffee. It shouldn’t have irked her as much as it did. She didn’t want anything serious from him, that’s what she’d said the night before and that’s what she’d meant, but if she was interfering in something...

Arthur was gone most of the day.

It didn’t bother her.

She told herself that only until the third hour.

Having taken over Javier’s watch, she stood on the outer south edge of the property, slowing pacing up and down the thin dirt path. If she wasn’t thinking about someone’s happiness she could potentially be ruining then she was thinking about the kiss. Should she have allowed it?

Oh, hell, stop lying to yourself, woman, you wanted it.

He’d known it, he’d plain seen it and said it. And she had enjoyed it.

For a man who was often boorish and bad-tempered, his hands had been... gentle. His lips had felt wonderful. What was this man caging inside of himself? Why hadn’t she seen this side of him before? Why wasn’t he wandering off every other night to the nearest saloon like some of the men did? Was he saving himself for this Mary, hoping she’d change her mind, and she and the kiss last night had just been an error? Maybe he had had more whisky than she thought, maybe he’d had quite a few when she hadn’t been looking.

God, she missed Sean. She would have loved to talk with him, or even be distracted, and he would have wanted to distract. He would have made everything seem so simple and that it wasn’t serious and she was a fool for over-thinking it and Arthur was just a fool, besides she was getting ahead of herself, she didn’t even know why he’d gone to see this Mary, maybe it was nothing at all—

She turned and stopped abruptly. Arthur was approaching, his hands on his belt, smiling. It made her heart stop.

“Hello,” she greeted him lightly.

“Hey,” he answered, a knowing smile on his lips.

God, why did that make her stomach clench in the most delicious of ways.

“You have a nice time in town?” she said swiftly, needing to distract herself.

Arthur blinked slightly in surprise. Shit, she wasn’t really meant to know he was in town.

“Yeah, thanks,” he said after a moment. “I saw an old friend.”

Now that surprised her. She hadn’t expected him to be so open about it. Most men would keep past loves a secret, especially if they’d just been to see them. Especially if they were talking to a woman they’d kissed the night before.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, but I got a feelin’ you already knew that.”

“Oh?” was all she could think to say.

He nodded, tilting his head. “Yeah.”

She licked her lips then exhaled. “Fine, I do know who you were seeing. Mary-Beth told me and the girls.”

He seemed to consider something. “... Are you jealous?”

She scoffed slightly, looking down at the ground then back to him, a faint smile on her lips. “No, Arthur, I’m not. I just don’t want to be in the middle of something.”

“You ain’t in the middle of anythin’,” he shook his head. “Mary and I, we had our time, and we lost it.”

He didn’t seem too broken about it but... there was definitely an air of sadness. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

He shrugged. “Nah, probably for the best.” He rubbed his jaw. “She asked me to run away with her. Then said she knew I wouldn’t. I said I wanted to. That I would, once we got our money but, now...” He let out a humourless laugh and looked away. She had stilled. “Hell, I don’t know what it is about her. When I’m not with her I can see what a terrible idea it would be, that we don’t work. But when I’m with her... it’s like I forget all that.”

Her faint smile returned. “I think that might be love.”

Arthur looked back to her, arching an eyebrow with a faint air of amusement. “Ain’t practical, though, is it.”

Her smile just lingered. “I don’t think love is.”

Arthur just hummed.

Ada licked her lips and continued, “Maybe you like the idea of being with Mary more than actually being with her.”

His eyebrows rose for a moment as he shrugged. “You might be righ’.”

She was quiet for a moment, watching him. “I guess part of you wants to be free from all this, then.”

His gaze flicked to her. “’Free’... You used that same word when talkin’ about Molly. We ain’t bein’ kept here against our will, Ada.”

"I know, but... all this running constantly, don’t you get tired?”

Arthur sighed. “Ada, you don’t know this life, you don’t—”

She frowned. “I know what this life can do to people, Arthur—”

“So do I,” he cut her off, his voice lowering slightly despite how far from the camp they were. “You think I don’t just want to give it all up? Think I just don’t want a quiet life? That’s what everyone wants but it ain’t real—”

"Running away to Tahiti isn’t real, Arthur,” she implored, ”It’s a fantasy cooked up by a man who fancies himself a king and you all blindly follow him—”

"We don’t blindly follow him, Ada, that ain’t true. He’s saved all those people, he’s cared for us all—”

She scoffed. “Oh, so he’s been kind to you so that means you have to do as he says?”

Arthur hissed out a breath, frowning. “No, of course it don’t, it’s about loyalty—”

“Loyalty or following out of an obligation, or fear?” she shot back.

“Ada—”

“Help me understand, Arthur,” she implored again, holding her hand out. “Help me to understand why you all adore him. Because he’s good to you all? Because you all have nothing else? Because you all genuinely love him? Are you all just unwilling to see the man that he really is?”

Arthur’s gaze was cold. “He’s the greatest man I’ve ever met.”

She tutted, almost pulling a face as she shook her head. “He has such a hold on you, it’s—”

“You don’t know anythin’. You don’t know shit.”

“I know a bad man and an ignorant follower.”

He pointed a finger at her, his jaw moving. “You need to watch what you’re sayin’—”

"I told you that I saw him standing there,” she hissed. “I told you I saw him kill my father for no reason, a man who was living that quiet life you don’t believe in, he killed him. He took my family’s happiness, he ruined us. I told you all that and you still defend him.”

Arthur’s gaze softened, though only a fraction. “I ain’t sayin’ Dutch ain’t done some bad things but—”

“Always with an excuse—” she started to mutter.

“What he did was wrong,” he cut her off, his tone having risen slightly. “All righ’, that I know, but he’s done some good, too.”

"Good doesn’t negate from bad,” she spat without thinking.

He arched an eyebrow. “Don’t it? We all deserve a chance to make up for our sins, don’t we?”

She looked at him, her jaw clenched. She couldn’t disagree with that. She didn’t, couldn’t back down though.

“So that’s what he’s doing now, is it? Atoning for his sins by stealing from people still?”

"He just wants a better life for all of us.”

She shook her head. "I wish I could see things the way you do, I really wish I could. I wish you could see it my way, too.”

Arthur took a step closer, his tone quiet again. “Ada, I’m tellin’ you this as a friend... You either got to resolve all this in your head or you might have to start thinkin’ about movin’ on.”

A humourless smile pulled briefly at her lips as her heart quietly shattered. “Submit or flee, is that it?”

He pressed his lips together. “Resolve this, or think about movin’ on. You ain’t got any other choice.”

“Don’t I?”

He stared at her, her features blank, her eyes cold.

His jaw moving slightly, he lowered his voice. “Ada... I would stop you.”

She just looked at him.

“It ain’t worth it,” he murmured.

Her gaze shifted to over his shoulder, as if he wasn’t even there.

“My shift is over,” was all she said as she passed him.

He didn’t turn, but he heard her greet Lenny as he approached to take over. Closing his eyes, his head bowed slightly as he placed his hands on his hips.

Dear God, what a damn fuckin’ mess.

—

Comments, reblogs and likes make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Questions?

Tagged: @belfry-bat, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @ntlmundy

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x original female character #arthur morgan x female oc #my writing #flamehairedwritings

8 notes · View notes

galxcs · 4 years

Text

Drunken Nights | Wolfstar

Link to AO3

Chapter Ten (Nine) (Eight) (Seven) (Six) (Five) (Four) (Three) (Two) (One)

Madame Pomfrey was coddling Remus again, and he wasn’t having it.

“It’s fine,” Remus hissed, pulling his stinging arm away from her.

“Oh, stop,” she insisted, brushing his hand back. “No. Stop, moving.”

“It’s fine, Poppy. No.” Remus batted her away again, tucking his arm against his chest.

“Just… let me, it’ll be quick. Remus.”

Madame Pomfrey and Remus argued like a mother and son. After so many days and nights spent in the hospital wing, Remus had grown much more comfortable with her, and she had grown to treat him differently than she treated the usual student that came in. He didn’t know when he had started calling her Poppy, but it had been quite funny seeing Dumbledore’s face when he accidentally let it slip in front of him.

Poppy got a hold of Remus’ arm, pouring on some sort of liquid salve before he could pull away. It stung terribly for a few seconds, feeling like his skin was bubbling up.

“Ah!” Remus cried out, pulling back immediately, trying to retain the curses that came to the tip of his mouth. “Fuuuudge. Seriously? I said it was fine.”

Remus jumped off the bed that he had been sitting upright in and paced back and forth with his arm in his hand.

“Remus, sit down,” Poppy said, watching Remus like she always did when she thought he was being overly dramatic.

She gave Remus a look that said she knew more than Remus did, raising one of her eyebrows at him, and crossing her arms tightly. After a few moments the simmering feeling on his skin vanished, leaving a soft tickling feeling in its wake.

Remus looked down at where the large gash that he had gotten from a scratch that the Marauders hadn’t been able to stop during the transformation had been. What was left was a small, almost unnoticeable, line that stretched up from his wrist to his elbow. He looked back up at Poppy.

“Don’t say it,” he mumbled, brushing past her so he could take a seat again. He could practically hear her saying “told you so”.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” she said, going back to bandaging another cut on his shoulder. “Just that if you had let me do it in the first place, it would have felt better faster.”

“Well, it hurt,” Remus pouted, knowing it was a lame response.

“Here, drink this,” Poppy ordered, handing a potion to Remus. “And this. This one too.”

“Okay, geez. I can’t hold all of these.”

Remus took one potion at a time, plugging his nose so that he didn’t have to smell it before he drank it. It didn’t help to make the taste any more pleasant.

“I’m going to have you stay here one night just in case,” Poppy said right as she started cleaning out the small cuts on Remus’ hands.

“Ow. What? No way. I’m fine, Poppy. Better than fine,” Remus insisted.

“Can we come in now!” James shouted from the hallway.

“No! I’m not finished!” Poppy yelled back.

Remus heard the sound of a thud, and he could picture James dramatically sliding down the wall, landing hard on his butt, and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Remus, it’s just a precaution,” Poppy said, returning to their conversation.

“It’s a stupid precaution. For once, I thought I wouldn’t have to miss classes over this,” Remus argued. “Because I feel fine.”

“So you’ve said. And there is no way you are going back to class. Not today, or tomorrow morning. Honestly, Remus. I thought you would have learned by now.”

“Tomorrow morning!” Remus exclaimed. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“What about now?” James shouted.

“No!” Remus and Poppy answered in unison.

“Remus, you have a terrible track record when it comes to telling the truth about your health. You’re staying the night, and no classes tomorrow. That’s final.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just—”

“Uh uh.” Poppy said, turning away to wash her hands. “You can come in now boys!”

James came racing into the room like he hadn’t seen Remus in ages. For a moment Remus was afraid James was going to jump on him or something, but he came to an abrupt halt right before he hit Remus’ bed. Sirius was close behind him with Peter trailing after Sirius.

“Moooons,” James exclaimed, sitting next to Remus on the bed. “You aren’t laying down; that’s a good sign.”

“He should be,” Poppy muttered from the counter.

Sirius smirked at her words. Sometimes Remus felt like Sirius and Poppy were a tag team for treating Remus like a baby that needed taking care of.

Sirius sat down next to Remus, like he always did, but it made Remus instantly uncomfortable. He could feel Sirius and James’ knees pressed against his, but it was only one that was setting him on edge. Peter sat down on the floor, so he could continue eating the chocolate frog that he was eating. (Madame Pomfrey didn’t let him eat chocolate in the beds after what happened the last time.)

Usually at this point, Sirius would be asking Remus all kinds of questions that Remus would pretend he was annoyed at but actually wasn’t. It was usually like how he was feeling or what Sirius could do to help, as if Madame Pomfrey hadn’t already taken care of him. Instead, Sirius sat quietly next to him, his eyes downcast.

Remus wondered if he had finally given up trying to get his attention and hoped that he had. Suddenly, he was kind of thankful to be staying the night here because he wasn’t ready to address what had happened to them yet, or even think about it.

There was a long silence, and Remus realized everyone was actually waiting for Sirius to speak, like things couldn’t keep moving forward until Sirius had said something to Remus.

Sirius turned toward Remus, his knee pushing more against Remus’, and Remus could feel him staring intently at the side of his head.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

Remus could hear that Sirius had put so much more into the question than just wondering about how he was doing because of the full moon. Even James and Peter must have heard it because Peter stopped eating his chocolate frog for a second, glancing up to watch Remus and Sirius, and James leaned forward to look at Sirius.

Remus kept his eyes trained on his hands that were in his lap. “Fine.”

“Really?” Sirius asked.

Remus swallowed, feeling the weight of all three of his friend’s eyes on him. “Yeah, Madame Pomfrey says I can leave tomorrow morning, but she’s only keeping me here for precaution.”

Remus saw Sirius clench his jaw next to him, and his knee bounced a little. After an unbearably long pause, James filled in the silence.

“Well, that’s great to hear!” he said, patting Remus on his good shoulder.

Remus nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Madame Pomfrey left to talk to Dumbledore, and the Marauders all stayed with Remus for a while until she came back and scolded them to get back to class. As they were leaving, Sirius looked back, but Remus ducked his head, pretending that he hadn’t been looking.

The boys came back later, but everyone got tired eventually, and James and Peter stood up to leave.

“Umm, I’ll stay for a second. I need to talk to you,” Sirius told Remus, his voice sounding unsure.

“Oh, uh, actually I’m really tired,” Remus lied. “Maybe you can tell me whatever it is tomorrow?”

Sirius looked at Remus for a second, and Remus could tell he was doing that thing where he tried to read him. Remus didn’t know what Sirius saw, but he nodded lightly, standing up on shaky legs.

“Okay. Uh, sleep well,” he said.

“You too,” Remus mumbled, turning his back to Sirius, pretending that he was going to sleep.

Once he was sure everyone was gone, he turned over, staring up at the high ceilings. He let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had been holding, trying to keep his thoughts from turning to a place that he didn’t want them to go, but it was inevitable, and he had only been holding it off.

Remus retraced the memory of Sirius and him sitting on his bed. What happened? One moment Remus had been a blubbering mess, and the next thing he knew, Sirius was kissing him. And not just any kissing. It was like a desperate release, and the strangest part was that Remus felt like it had been a release for both of them. But what could that mean?

The first time that Sirius had kissed him, Remus had written it off as Sirius being drunk and not thinking straight. Sirius had thought that it was a girl he hooked up with the next morning. But how could he write this time away? How could he say that it was one sided when he could still remember the way Sirius had pressed closer to him, kissing him with an urgency that almost made Remus shiver just thinking about.

Was it possible that Sirius liked Remus too? He didn’t know how that could be possible. Of course, he knew that there was a chance that Sirius was bi like he was, but it wasn’t really that.

It was more that Remus was nothing like the girls that Sirius went for. Popular, gorgeous, and so available for him to be with. Despite his name, Sirius didn’t take relationships seriously, and for some reason, Remus didn’t think Sirius would risk kissing Remus just for some one time thing like the girls he was with.

Remus shook his head, trying to close his eyes and sleep away his thoughts. They were too strong, though, twisting around in his head over and over until he felt restless and couldn’t help but sort them all out before he could possibly get a wink of sleep in.

He decided to go at it with a more rational approach. Did it even matter if he figured out what Sirius’ intentions of kissing him were? Remus had already decided long ago that he could never be with Sirius.

He had already accepted that he could never be with anyone in a real relationship. His reasoning still stood strong. He was still a werewolf, and he would never subject anyone to a life of that. Especially not Sirius. It was already enough that James, Peter, and Sirius had to deal with Remus all throughout school. No way could he make anyone be with him for the rest of their lives.

It was then that Remus realized that if given the chance to be with Sirius, he would want to spend the rest of his life with him. He didn’t care if he was being dramatic because it was one of those nights, late and in bed, that you were allowed to have dramatic thoughts.

After given a taste of what being with Sirius would be like, Remus knew that once he had that for real, once he fully let himself give in, there was no going back. He was desperately in love with Sirius, and it was because he was desperately in love with Sirius that he would do whatever he could to protect Sirius from a life of dealing with Remus.

Sirius had enough problems as it was. He needed someone that could take care of him, not someone that he would have to take care of.

Remus felt so much better, and achingly worse after he had thought about everything. He knew now that he needed to talk to Sirius. He needed to find out why Sirius had kissed him, and he needed to tell him that it had been a mistake.

Despite having sorted things out, Remus could not get to sleep. His mind kept taking him back to a place where Sirius was pressing him into the bed, looking at him like he was the only person in the entire world. He couldn’t escape the immature pain of knowing he would never have that again. Worst of all, he let his mind wander to a place where wondering what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted was okay.

Finally, when he couldn’t take it anymore, Remus climbed out of bed, being careful to tiptoe to the cabinets where he knew the sleeping draughts were. Poppy had it password protected, but Remus had heard her say it enough times.

“Wonky erumpents,” Remus whispered.

He hoped that Poppy wouldn’t notice that any was missing, and downed the drought in one gulp.

Before he knew it, it was the next morning, and Remus woke up to a soft morning light, his muscles aching even more than they had the day before. It seemed like in order to heal, things always had to get worse first. He wasn’t going to tell Poppy that, though. Not when she was going to let him leave that morning.

Poppy checked all of Remus’ healing cuts and bruises. Only after he had assured her numerous times that he was feeling better than usual and after he promised not to go to any classes that day, did she finally let him leave.

Remus rushed down the halls, ignoring the aches that he felt all over his body. He had two minutes to make it to Potions, and he was feeling pretty confident that he could make it until he turned around a corner and ran right into Sirius.

He stumbled back a couple steps and felt Sirius’ hands lurch forward to steady Remus. Sirius didn’t take his hands off him.

“Re?” Sirius said, looking dazed. Something must have clicked, though, because suddenly his eyes filled with panic. “Oh my gosh, are you okay; I’m so sorry. What are you doing out of the hospital wing?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Remus lied since his body was throbbing from the small impact of hitting Sirius. “I was trying to make it to Potions on time.”

Remus looked around Sirius, wondering if he still had time to make it. Probably not. He didn’t want to be late, there wouldn’t be much point if he would be marked late instead of given an excused absence.

“Potions?” Sirius sounded more confused than he had earlier. “You can’t go to Potions.”

“Why not?”

“Well, because. Because you just had the full moon,” Sirius stuttered, his hand tightening on Remus’ arm.

“Well, I feel fine, and Madame Pomfrey let me leave so… wait, aren’t you supposed to be in Potions?”

“I was coming to talk to you,” Sirius admitted. “And I’m glad for it too. No way in hell am I letting you go to Potions.”

Remus crossed his arms over his chest, looking defiantly at Sirius. “You don’t get to decided what classes I go to.”

Sirius scoffed. “Remus, I specifically heard Madame Pomfrey say no classes today.”

“She changed her mind,” Remus lied.

“Oh, is that right?” Sirius had that amused look in his face that said he could read Remus too well for dumb lies like this.

Remus sighed. “Whatever. You’re right, though. We do need to talk,” Remus changed the subject, knowing that Sirius wasn’t buying it.

“Really? I was getting the feeling that you didn’t want to talk to me.”

“Well, I didn’t, but now I think I’ve figured some stuff out.”

Remus tried to keep his face neutral, knowing that Sirius was observing every little tic of emotion that he made. He didn’t want to reveal anything unwanted on his face. Like that what he was about to tell Sirius was going to be very hard to say.

“Can we talk somewhere more private?” Sirius asked.

The boys walked back to their room in silence. It was one of the first times that Remus had ever felt awkward with Sirius, and he hated it.

Once Sirius closed the door to their room, he turned toward Remus, eyeing him like they had never talked in their entire lives before. They each sat on different beds, facing each other. Remus refused to talk first, opting for staring at his hands instead.

“So, I wanted to talk about what happened yesterday,” Sirius started.

Remus nodded, still looking down. “Yeah, me too.”

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to Remus what Sirius said next because Sirius wasn’t one to hold back or feel uncomfortable during conversations, but it shocked him all the same.

“I’m not sorry that we kissed, but I got the feeling you were, which scares me,” Sirius confessed.

Remus’ eyes shot up upon hearing that Sirius didn’t regret their kiss. It was his turn to talk, and he realized he needed to be very careful about what he said during this conversation.

“What do you mean you aren’t sorry that we kissed?” Remus asked.

“So you do regret it,” Sirius said, his voice sounding so strong compared to the devastated look that Sirius was trying to conceal on his face.

Remus didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know if he should tell Sirius that he liked the kiss but couldn’t be with him, or if it would be better to play it off as the feelings not being mutual. Remus decided that he needed to be completely honest with Sirius, if Sirius was being completely honest with him.

“I didn’t say that I regretted it, I was just asking you what you meant,” Remus explained.

“Well, I meant exactly what I said. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I’ve been holding back for so long,” Sirius’ voice was tinged with something Remus thought was pain.

His words made Remus’ mind race. Remus tried to keep himself composed after such an admission despite the fact that Sirius’ words were dizzying just thinking about. If Sirius was going to be this forward, there was no point in lying to him.

“Sirius, there was one other time that you, uh, didn’t hold back.”

“What?” Sirius asked.

“The night of the party, when I was trying to get you back to our room, we had to hide in a closet to escape a professor, and,” Remus paused, knowing that his face was definitely turning red.

“And what?” Sirius asked, his voice tight and clipped. Remus knew that Sirius knew what he was about to say.

“And you, well you kissed me.”

“Did you kiss me back?” Sirius asked.

Remus had been honest so far, but he couldn’t possibly admit that he had if he was going to get through this conversation. “I told you that you were drunk and that you weren’t in your right mind. You apologized, and I said it was fine, and we went back to the room.

Sirius’ face was a blur of emotions, and Remus couldn’t catch any of them fast enough; they changed too quickly.

“Rems, I,”

“If you’re going to apologize, it’s fine. You already did.”

Sirius nodded, unable to say anything. Finally after a long he time, he said, “You were wrong about one thing.”

“What?”

“I was definitely in my right mind if I kissed you that night, alcohol or not.”

Every word that came out of Sirius’ mouth made Remus feel like he was falling. He played with the sleeves of his sweater to hold onto something solid and real. “What do you mean? Why would you want to kiss me?”

“Because I like you,” Sirius said like it was completely obvious.

Remus stuttered out a delayed response, “How? But, you date so many girls. And I’m—“”

“Perfect?” Sirius interrupted. “Remus I’ve liked you for years.” For the first time in their conversation, Sirius broke eye contact, looking down at the floor. “And I’m not into any of those girls I’ve been with.”

“How can you say that, Sirius? I’ve seen the way you kiss them, and I’ve heard the stories.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “The stories are fake, and the only reason I kiss them like that is because for so many years I thought that maybe if I just found the right girl, I would finally get over you. I thought that I could distract myself, and keep myself from doing something I would regret. But then I kissed you yesterday, and I realized how stupid I’ve been. Because of all those girls I’ve been with, I have never felt anything like that. It was so…real.”

Sirius was looking at Remus now, his eyes moving back and forth quickly as he searched Remus’ eyes. Remus ducked his head, unsure if he would be able to talk without crying. This was what Remus had dreamed about for so long, and now he had to shut it down.

“So, you’re saying that all of this time, you’ve only been dating girls because you were hung up over me?” Remus asked, his voice shaking uncontrollably. He knew Sirius would hear the quavers and tried to clear his throat.

“Yeah, and I was scared of what my family would do if they found out I was gay. There were a lot of reasons actually, but you were the main one.”

Remus was pretty sure that he was gaping at Sirius, but he couldn’t stop. Sirius looked at him, and he almost seemed vulnerable. After a long silence, Sirius spoke up.

“I’m assuming you don’t feel the same way,” Sirius said, his voice breaking.

This was the moment of truth. Remus took a deep breath. “Sirius, I lied when you asked me if I kissed you back the night of the party. I did kiss you back, only for a moment, but it was one of the best moments of my life.”

Remus heard Sirius suck in a breath, and his eyes filled with so much emotion that Remus couldn’t look away. Sirius smiled from ear to ear, and it was that smile that broke Remus.

“Remus,” Sirius whispered, leaning forward like he was going to kiss Remus, or at least get closer to him.

“But,” Remus said pulling back from Sirius. Sirius’ face fell, and Remus tried to stay strong, “That kiss yesterday was a mistake.”

Sirius looked like he had been punched in the stomach, and Remus’ instincts told him to reach out and comfort him, but he held himself back, digging his fingernails into his palms.

“How was it a mistake if you like me too?” Sirius muttered.

“Because I know that we can’t ever be together, and kissing you made it so much harder for us to stay apart.”

“Remus, I think that I need to be with you. I don’t care if it’s secret, I just can’t go any longer without you. Not now. Not after yesterday, and not after I know you liked it too.”

“It’s not about if it’s a secret or not,” Remus sighed, twiddling his fingers, and keeping his eye off Sirius.

“Well, then what’s it about? I know that I’ve been with a lot of girls, but that’s over, Remus. That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have been with them when I wasn’t ever going to be interested.”

“It’s not—” Remus tried to say.

“And I know that I get drunk sometimes, and angry, and I know my family sucks, which is why I tried to hold back for so long.” Sirius continued. “You deserve so much more than me Remus, but I’m going to be really selfish and say that I want you too bad to let you be with someone else.”

“Sirius.”

“Speaking of which, if this is about Angela—” Sirius said, not listening to Remus, who was trying to interject.

“Amanda,” Remus muttered.

“If this is about Amanda, then I’ll be better. I’ve known you longer than she has, and I will care about you more than she ever can. I know it might not seem like that because of who I am. But I swear, Moony, I’ll be the best I can be for you.”

“It’s not about any of those things,” Remus finally bursted, annoyed that Sirius wasn’t listening to him.

“It’s not?” Sirius asked, sounding confused.

“No. I don’t care about the girls you’ve been with. At least, not exactly. And it’s not because you get angry and drink. I like you for the good and bad. Sirius, I don’t know why you’re acting like you would be so terrible. You’ve been there for me since first year, and you don’t need to be any better than you already are. And this isn’t about Amanda either.”

“I don’t understand,” Sirius said.

Sirius had been scooting his foot closer to Remus’, across from him, slowly, and he poked Remus a little. When Remus didn’t pull back, Sirius placed his foot on top of Remus’ lightly.

“I feel like you’re forgetting that I’m a werewolf,” Remus sighed.

Sirius rose one of his eyebrows, scooting forward to the edge of the bed. “What does… being a werewolf have to do with us?”

“You’re joking, right?” Remus asked.

Sirius shook his head. “Rems, you know I don’t care that you’re a werewolf. It doesn’t change who you are to me.”

Remus laughed sarcastically. “Yeah, you make that very clear.”

“It’s true,” Sirius grabbed Remus’ hand, tracing his thumb over each of Remus’ fingers.

“It’s not what you think.” Remus paused, realizing that what he was about to tell Sirius was going to reveal just how much he cared about him.

“I don’t want to freak you out,” Remus started, “but if I was with you, I could never lose you, and that means I would be subjecting you to so many months of having to deal with me.”

Sirius’ eyes warmed, and his hand tightened on Remus’ when he heard the part about Remus never wanting to lose him, but his smile dropped when Remus finished.

“Deal with you? What the hell do you mean by that?” Sirius asked.

“You know me, Sirius. I get pathetic during the full moon, and after it I’m all broken and need time to heal. I can’t subject you to having to see me like that every month. You deserve someone who you don’t have to constantly ruin your days to make sure they’re okay.”

Sirius looked extremely offended, and Remus tried to run through his words to decide what he said that would have offended him.

“Pathetic? Subject me? Ruin my days? Remus, I just told you that I love you, and you think we shouldn’t be together because you don’t want me to take care of you? Well too bad because together or not, I’m not going anywhere. The fact that you would even think that me being with you is me dealing with you is so insulting. You should know that I like being with you by now.”

Remus was completely speechless at Sirius’ words. He barely heard anything after Sirius saying that he loved him. Had he even noticed that he said it? Remus’ mouth was dropped open, and he stared at Sirius, trying to say something.

“You… you love me?”

Sirius looked at Remus blankly, and then he slid to the wood floor between them, sitting in front of Remus on both of his knees.

“I thought it was obvious,” Sirius whispered, resting his arms on Remus’ knees, and taking Remus’ hands in his. “Remus Lupin, I have been desperately in love with you since first year, and if you are saying that you like me back but won’t let me date you because you don’t want me to take care of you, then there is no way that I’m going to let you get away with that excuse.”

Remus felt like he was going to explode. He had fantasized about Sirius telling him that he was in love with him so many times, but he never pictured it being so difficult.

“Sirius,” Remus swiped a tear out of his eye. “It’s not just that. It’s that, can you imagine what people will say? You have everything going for you. I can’t let you be with a halfblood who’s a werewolf and a boy. It’s almost unfair.”

Sirius stood up from where he was crouched in front of Remus and ran a hand through his hair. He paced in front of Remus, back and forth, back and forth. “No. You know what isn’t fair? It isn’t fair that you get to decide if I want to be with you or not. So what if you’re a halfblood werewolf boy? Maybe that’s the person I fell for,” Sirius said angrily.

“Well maybe that was a mistake,” Remus snapped.

Sirius stared at Remus, his eyes a mix of fire and ice. Sirius marched towards Remus, shoved him down so that his back was against the bed, leaned over him so that his mouth was just close to touching Remus’, and whispered, “That’s the thing about mistakes, they’re just bad choices, but falling for you was inevitable.”

And then Sirius kissed him. He kissed him firm and hard, his fingers tight in Remus’ hair. Remus kissed him back because he couldn’t stand not to, but in between kisses, he said, “Sirius, I can’t be with you.”

Sirius bit Remus’ lip when Remus finished his sentence, pressing his body against Remus’. “But doesn’t this feel so right?” Sirius asked, looking down at him almost hungrily.

“I can’t risk hurting you,” Remus whispered, pulling back, and turning his head when Sirius tried to kiss him again. “Or losing you.”

“You could never hurt me,” Sirius responded, kissing down Remus’ neck.

“You don’t know that,” Remus said, his voice cracking. He swiped tears quickly from his eyes and looked up at Sirius who had pulled up to look Remus in the eye. Sirius brushed his fingers down Remus’ cheek, landing on his lips.

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “I do.”

Sirius leaned down to kiss Remus’ forehead, this kiss softer than any of the other ones. Remus gently moved, pushing Sirius a bit off of him. Sirius sat up, rolling onto the other side of the bed.

“Sirius when we graduate, I’m not going to be able to get a job. Nobody wants to hire a werewolf. And when we’re older, and you’re tired and ready to settle down, guess what will still be happening every month?”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “I’ll help you find a job, and if you work a muggle job, that’s okay. And when we’re older I just want to be with you. I don’t care if you think it will be a burden because it won’t. Not if I get to wake up next to you every morning, and kiss you every night.”

Remus couldn’t bear to look at Sirius anymore. He felt like he was hanging from a thin piece of string, and if it was cut, he was going to fall into Sirius’ arms and agree to be with him, and let himself love Sirius, and honestly that didn’t sound so bad at the moment.

“I, I can’t think right now, Sirius,” Remus admitted. “Not with you here. This is all too much too fast.”

Last night, Remus felt like he had everything figured out, but he never expected that Sirius was going to say any of the things that he had said, and he never expected to be kissed again, and it was giving him a headache; everything that was so unexpected.

“Okay,” Sirius said quietly. “If you need time, that’s okay. I get that. I know it’s a lot for me to tell you , I just never imagined that you would like me too, and now that I know you do, I’m not going to stop fighting for you.”

“Sirius—”

“No, I’m not kidding. I won’t stop.” Sirius stood up and walked around the bed, standing in front of Remus. He leaned down and kissed him on the lips. It was a soft and lingering kiss that temporarily cleared Remus’ head, and then Sirius was pulling away and whispering, “I’ll give you that time you needed to think,” and he left.

Remus imagined how ridiculous he must have looked then, sitting on the bed, looking completely stunned. The room felt so quiet without Sirius, and the weight of the words they had both shared was still clogging up the air, filling the room with unanswerable questions.

Remus fell back onto the bed, letting out a sigh. He brought up his hand to run over his face.

What am I going to do now? Remus thought, and for once, he had absolutely no idea.

#wolfstar #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #the marauders #marauders era #marauders era fanfiction #fanfic #harry potter

10 notes · View notes