#part of me reads this poem with the Dead Flag Blues voice

[etudiantfantome]

Night Walk

by Franz Wright

The all-night convenience store’s empty and no one is behind the counter. You open and shut the glass door a few times causing a bell to go off, but no one appears. You only came to buy a pack of cigarettes, maybe a copy of yesterday’s newspaper — finally you take one and leave thirty-five cents in its place. It is freezing, but it is a good thing to step outside again: you can feel less alone in the night, with lights on here and there between the dark buildings and trees. Your own among them, somewhere. There must be thousands of people in this city who are dying to welcome you into their small bolted rooms, to sit you down and tell you what has happened to their lives. And the night smells like snow. Walking home for a moment you almost believe you could start again. And an intense love rushes to your heart, and hope. It’s unendurable, unendurable.

#franz wright #night walk #part of me reads this poem with the Dead Flag Blues voice #even though it is much cosier #nuit #american literature #poetry #litblr #bookblr #night #winter #american poetry

[laurore-stormwitch]

So this was supposed to be a birthday gift for my friend @not-just-human, but of course I am a day late (ily). This is to remember the major week-long breakdown we had when we first read about this. I am so so happy that I met you. Enjoy this endless yearning and pining about Nikolai giving Zoya the dragon timepiece

I’d give us time if I could - ao3

word count: 2282

“Do you intend to keep prying into my work from the corner or are you planning to make yourself useful at some point?”

Zoya kept her eyes trained on the document she was scanning as she talked, having finally had enough of the intent gaze that had been studying her. Behind her back, she heard Nikolai chuckle lightly, the sound echoing in her veins.

“I’ve been here a while. I am surprised you haven’t heard me.” Of course he had, and she had let him. His silent presence was far from unpleasant, though; it brought a sense of security to the room that she had wanted to enjoy for a while. Maybe it was the silent part that was shocking enough to not startle him from his rare lack of talking. “Are you perhaps losing the usual sharpness of your senses, General?”

It was not a matter of hearing; Zoya felt him, always, everywhere. She just knew, in some deep buried part of her, when he was there; he awoke something in her, quickened her pulse, muffled her thoughts. It could have been a consequence of her newly acquired powers, or that unbreakable connection that had seemed to have been forged between them. Either way, she had deliberately chosen not to dwell on the answer. Zoya discarded her pen and shuffled the papers away, turning on her seat to face him.

“What do you need?”

Nikolai was leaning on the doorframe of her bedchamber, his figure stark against the flickering of the fire. He folded his arms, cocking his head and producing his signature mischievous grin in her direction. She really wished he would lose the habit of appearing in her room late at night; even more, she wished he could avoid doing so with his hair ruffled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

Or maybe you just wish he would stay and let you fix those buttons, her traitorous brain provided. If only to oppose those thoughts, she scowled at him, shooting an annoyed glare at his lack of response that only made him grin wider. He pushed back from the frame, walking towards her and coming to lean on her desk beside her instead, peering at her from the upside down. Zoya tensed up, unnerved by his excessive proximity and the salty scent of his skin invading her nose. His gaze wandered around the room, lingering on the two-stars flagged ship on the wall before coming to lock with her eyes.

“I’ve come to check on my General”, he mused. “Can a king not oversee his most trusted ally’s work?”

His voice had a strained edge and he kept fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. He looked almost nervous. Which was not preamble to anything positive. Zoya suppressed a groan, going for another baleful glare. “Cut to the chase, Nikolai”, she clipped out.

He just looked at her, seemingly at a loss for words, which was even more worrying. His eyes darkened, the shadow of something passing over them, something treacherous, the promise of an undoing. It had peered in vulnerable flutters in these weeks, carrying sparkles of electricity between them.

They had not talked much about what had happened in the Fold, aside from the detail of their worst enemy coming back to life; Zoya carefully avoided the subject of whatever it was that they had shared, whatever it was that made her heart ache whenever he entered a room. It drove him to search for her, to ask for her company, for her presence. It lingered in the swift gazes they exchanged or the casual brush of his hands on her. Either way, it had to remain shrouded in darkness; these moments he seemed to look for made the task to toss the desire away tiresome, if not at peril to be forsaken. She heard him discreetly take in a long breath before talking, the forced cheerful tone masking a tension she could sense enveloping the room.

“I have something for you”, he finally said. “Then I’ll leave you be.”

The force of his feelings was a tidal wave of confusion that threatened to drown her; Zoya used all of her might when he was near to put a blockade against them. It was one thing to be forced to experience other people's troubled sentiments, but with Nikolai, she did not want to know. She did not want to bask in whatever inner battle was waging inside him; it would not help either of them to hold the knowledge that their hearts were being tortured by the same hopeless war.

Zoya struggled to keep her focus and control over her power; her perfectly still posture unveiled nothing of the turmoil in her chest. She arched a brow at him; losing no more time in chatters - another clear enough indicator of his nervousness - Nikolai reached inside his jacket and delicately handed her a fine case with his royal seal branded on top. Zoya turned it over, resting her folded hands with it on her lap and coming back to fix her eyes on Nikolai’s ones with a silent question.

“It’s a - “, he started, straightening himself and wrapping his hands on the edge of the desk. He cleared his throat and shuffled on his feet, his restlessness betraying more than he let on. “It’s a gift, sort of. I thought you deserved a reward. A token of appreciation.”

“For what?”, Zoya inquired, half suspicious and half startled by his gesture. Again, those shadows swept through his features and his fingers twitched.

“For fighting beside me, I guess”, he said easily, shrugging his shoulders. “And saving our pitiful lives.”

“I do it on a daily basis”, Zoya diminished, tossing her hair. “You constantly put yourself in life-threatening situations. It hardly shocks me anymore, and I certainly don’t consider it a cause for celebration.”

Nikolai smiled at that, his genuine smirk recalling the familiar ease between them and clearing the strain from the air. Of course I saved you, you idiot , Zoya thought, and she knew her blue eyes had softened at the sight of him. I could not bear to lose you. “Undoubtedly”, he conceded, humming in agreement. “Think of it as a reminder of our heroic gestures and epic adventures. I spared you the torture of hearing me proclaim a poem to our valor and chose a symbolic practical gift instead.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, blowing a disgruntled scoff. “I would have not let you come as far as a sentence. Do not ever try to pull that poetry nonsense on me.”

A laugh burst from him, and the sound made her feel so light she thought she could float.  “Just - “, he paused again, the words faltering on his tongue. Saints, what had gotten into him? He looked more like an excited schoolboy than a king. “Open it later. If it’s awful, at least I can be spared your disgusted face at my ghastly taste.”

“Your taste does lack finesse.”

“I like to pride myself with having gotten to know a fraction of your likings in these years. So perhaps I did not go completely off track with that”, he said, gesturing to the case still resting in her hands. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. The king looked at her again, and she could see the words forming in his throat and dying on his lips, all the things he wished he could tell her. But that was not their truth to live. That was not their chance to gain. And whatever he would say, it had to not be what he desired. “Besides, it’s a useful gift. You always grumble about how late I am, now you could actually prove it.”

Zoya pursed her lips at the wink he gave her. “I do not grumble.”

"Occasionally. You’re extremely graceful in that too, don’t worry.”

With that, he turned to leave, as nonsensical and abrupt as he always needed to be. And Saints, she wanted to grab his arm and tell him to stay. She wanted so many futures she could not have, so many endings to this night that were forbidden.

“Nikolai”, she heard herself call to him, not sure where her own voice was coming from. Nikolai stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze darting back to Zoya still seated unmoving on her desk. His fingers were already curled around the handle; there they stood, facing each other at the brink of a duel or a surrender, at the crossroad where they kept finding and losing themselves. It would take a step, a touch, a slide of a tongue on lips. A syllable, a breath. Instead, there was silence, one that asked to be filled with mendacity, for it would be softer to tolerate than the blazing truth of an ember of hope that had already gotten extinguished. Zoya swallowed the bitter taste of pretense; she wondered how long it would keep scraping, if older pain got sweeter like a priced bourbon or turned rancid if left there to rot.

Thank you , she wished to tell him at least. A small thing it would be, yet one that would risk freeing a flood. “Close the door on your way out”, she said instead, her voice cold but lacking spite. “It’s late.”

Nikolai stood; she had chosen the path, and he knew he had to give in. It was not like they had another choice. And so he just nodded, the ghost of a smile grazing his lips because whether she spoke it aloud or not, he would always know. “Goodnight, General”, he murmured, taking his leave.

It would take her some time to get up from her seat and will herself to rest. Zoya remembered when they had found themselves in a similar position; it was three years ago, and in the box he had given her had rested the medal that had made her his General. He had been as jittery as tonight, with that grin that had never changed. Back then, the dance between them had been different, though the exchange of playful banters and silent truths had been the same.

It would then take her some other time to bring herself to open the case, and when she did, a part of her died while another came roaring to life. She could have wondered and wondered forever what it meant; if it was a promise, a farewell or a desperate plead to wait, to cling to his endless bright capability of finding a way when a way was not possible. Zoya would not try to sort out its meaning. She laid on her covers with the watch beside her, turning it in her hands as it caught the moonlight shining through the windows. When sleep came to claim her, she left it on her nightstand, focusing on its mellow ticking, a sliver of order to the chaos.

Coward , growled the beast inside her, trashing to be set free. Would you let him leave every time, until he comes back no more?

She thought back on the way she almost pleaded his name, on those seconds that stood suspended in time, when none of them had moved. She could have let go of her defenses; but then what? Why had she not said whatever was pressing in her lungs? Zoya had almost grown accustomed to those troubling doubts; she had every answer to them.

Why? Because they could not afford the tears that burned like daggers in her throat. Because they could not afford the longing that flared up the golden freckles of his irises. What would have happened if she had asked? She would have shut her lashes, and he would have reached for her, and the things that could not be would have weighed impossibly on them. The things that could not happen, in any of the lives they might be free to live.

The watch kept ticking. The dragon kept roaring, and the thorn wood kept strangling her heart, puncturing her skin.

They would keep marching. And the things that could not be would stay hidden in the silence and the rhythmic beat of a pointer slashing whatever time they had left. If she was someone else, Zoya might have hoped they could have it, not just symbolically, the gift of time. That those seconds that dripped away were not passing, that it was time they were earning. Wishful thinking and broken ideals lead nowhere, as a general knew. And she was not someone else, if not a soldier.

Nevertheless, when morning came, the timepiece rested on her nightstand, still ticking away. Zoya glanced at it as she got dressed; she brushed her hair, buttoned her kefta and put her boots on. And it kept ticking away, mercilessly calling to her.

And so she huffed in irritated surrender, and snatched it up and clasped it on the insides of her uniform. An instant relief flooded her; it matched her pulse, soothing her thoughts. She gave a tug to the kefta , smoothing its ruffled folds. She knew Nikolai would notice she was wearing it, at some point; for once, she could not bring herself to care that he was going to have this victory. Let him have it; and let her have something of him to hold.

That boy is going to be the death of me , she thought sourly, peering at herself in the mirror. A whisper arose from within, the careening thrum of her heart suggesting a different story, flashing the blank page of another chapter she could start writing, if she would only be brave enough.

What if he will be life?

#zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #zoyalai #zoya and nikolai #grishaverse #fan fiction #rule of wolves #nikolai duology #king of scars #yearning #pining #basically just that #nothing else #the dragon timepiece #we literally lost our minds over that #pre rule of wolves #love #as usual just them #really 2k of pointless yearning wow that was useless

[shyinadarkplace]

Bucky are you still there?

Summary: When their Soul bond is broken, the reader unable to bear the pain tries to end it all. The only question is will Bucky make in time to save her?  (Please be kind this is my very first time publishing a work)

Pairing: Bucky x reader. *I do not own Bucky Barnes or Sebastian Stan or any of his works*

Word count: 5k (I am sorry I might have gotten carried away)

Back ground info: This is an AU where there are Soulmates. If the connection between soul mates is somehow broken the mates have usually at max four years before everything gets unbearable. Also Tony is alive.

Prompt: Mountains/Forest and the song “Jealous” by Labyrinth. I also included another song “Dark side of me” by Coheed and Cambria. There is also an original poem by me in there.  *I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO USE ANY OF MY WORK AS A WHOLE OR IN PART, IN ANYWAY, ON ANY PLATFORM. *

Warnings: Proceed with caution. TRIGGER WARNING: There is mention of blood, extreme depression, suicidal thought and tendencies. That’s all I can think of, but please if you need help with any of the above mentioned things https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/  1-800-273-8255.  Please please reach out.

Title: Bucky are you still there?

Outside a winter storm raged deep in the Taiga, and while you were warm physically inside you felt just like that storm. You felt like the swirling mass of ice and snow, like the -54° C that currently raged outside your home. The added fire that sat blazing in front of you did little to assuage the pain that wracked through your chest. The ring on your hand glinted in the firelight. A familiar wave of heartbreak began crashing through you, even after all this time. When the much too familiar tears fell, another layer of ice layered around your heart. You stared into the fire and let your mind wander where it would, allowing your grief take its course.

Memory of your first meeting:

There was a pull in deepest part of your being. A tingling in the back of your mind. He was close. You could feel him brush across your consciousness like a gentle rain, and you returned the gesture. The room seemed to full of people why did Stark tower feel so crowded today? All you could do was stand frozen where you were running up a metaphorical flag screaming here I am. Your eyes quested searching desperately for someone doing the same, for the one who turned your spark into a firestorm. Suddenly there he was. Your eyes met and suddenly it was like you were falling, but gently, into warm blue eyes, into dark strands of hair and stubbly jawline. In man and muscle. Falling into him. Your feet were moving before you even realized it. Standing face to face with him, you felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest “Hello, I’m (y/n). I have been waiting for you.) Your voice barely above a whisper almost afraid that if you spoke to loud it would somehow be just a dream. “Hello doll, my name is James Buchanan Barnes. I am so glad you waited.” Thus began your world wind love affair with the Winter Soldier, Bucky, White Wolf. And it was perfect. You two were perfect for each other been through so many of the same things. It was like you had discovered the theory of everything right then and there.

“6 years ago. Can you believe it Benji. Just six years ago Earth was upside down as a planet, but personally I was in heaven. I had met my soul mate.” The big wolf hound/wolf mix just laid his big black head on your lap, offering the silent comfort he always did. “We were married for three years. It was like magic.” A fresh batch of tears ran down your face. It had been 3 excruciating years. 3 years of feeling utterly alone. You had heard what it was like when someone lost their soulmate, it was like they were a zombie. They lost some of their humanity. It was like when a clinically depressed person masked, they looked and sounded fine for the most part but something was just off. Most of the time when one lost their soul mate they died too, unable to carry on without them or unwilling too. So many times you had been tempted to walk out in weather like this and let the Taiga take you. So many times you sat staring into the flames and thought about ending it all. After all there were thousands of ways to die. It had been 6 years since what the world came to call the Endgame. Since something had snapped inside Bucky during that battle and he had vanished. The end of the third long and bitter year was coming up, a person can only take so much.

Memory: You were probably 100 yards away from him when it happened. You could feel something wrong with Bucky, you had to get to him and help him. You got distracted next thing you knew a long thick metal rod had you staked to the ground. You couldn’t move it was embedded too far in the ground behind you. So you fought on like that, on the ground taking blasters and weapons from anything you fought with as the Super serum running through your veins kept you alive, easing the bleeding. You kept fighting hoping somehow you would be able to get up to get to Bucky. Hot tears streamed down your face and a scream ripped savagely from your throat as suddenly the constant connection that you had with Bucky was gone. It was like it had never existed. All you could feel was an iron wall. Utterly impenetrable. You couldn’t tell if it was just the limit of your consciousness or if it was him somehow cutting you off. Or if the worst had happened. Then the world went black.

When Steve found you, you had passed out from blood loss. You were in a coma for a week due to the severity of the wound but you remembered your dreams and they were sweet.

In your dreams it was just after you and Bucky had gotten married. A week to the day actually. You had curled up beside him and asked you could read him something you wrote. He didn’t need to say anything. All of his attention focused on you. A blush crept up your neck as you read what you had written.

“You always looked like trouble but the very best kind.

Even before I knew what you looked like.

You looked like everything I wanted at 16.18.20.26.

You looked like whiskey and smoke before I even knew the taste.

You looked like a hot rod idling at a stop light.

You looked like my addiction before it developed. Like my favorite kind of pain.

I don’t know how but I always just knew, that your eyes where blue. Blue. Such a cool tone. The kind that reminds you glaciers or ice cubes against passion heated skin. Like Blue flames, that seemed to sear clothes off with a glance, and pool fire in my belly. And when you smiled I really knew you were trouble then. But the best kind. The kind I couldn’t live without. The kind that kept me breathing. When you smiled at me the first time, I was yours.

The first time with you…oh god it was like nothing before. I had spent so many hours over the years before I met you, day dreaming about my fingers in your hair, your hands blazing trails of fire against my skin. Your lips crushed against mine…

By the time you placed your hand against my cheek and started kissing me, it was like you had kissed me a thousand times before. By the time your hands caressed my skin in expectant reverence (a shock to my system) it was as though your hands had always known my skin.

When I touched your skin, I was in awe at the newness of the sensation and yet it was so familiar. As I felt like your hands had always known my skin, I felt I had always known yours.

That first time didn’t feel like the first time. It felt like we had been together since the beginning of time. I didn’t need to question anything, because we knew each other so intimately words were not needed.

No need for words because I knew where to kiss you, as if some instinct worked within me. Knew where to touch. Knew how to kiss you wherever my lips landed. Knew when to bite and when to soothe. I knew it because you had always been mine. I was made for you.

No need for words because you knew, knew when to be gentle, when to be firm, knew everything you needed to get me high. With you it was natural as breathing. You brought me back to life the way a smith does a cold forge. With you it was the first time but it felt as though we had been there a thousand, thousand times before.

When I first saw you it all became real, I had already spent years falling in love with the idea of being with you. In the ease and comfort and debauchery of your presence. Suddenly every dream I had ever had about my soul mate blazed into existence.

You looked like my addiction when it formed, like my favorite kind of pain. You looked like someone I had loved a thousand, thousand times. “

You two had been so tangled up in each other it was hard to tell where he ended and you began, the line between him and you blurred. You were in complete bliss. At least while you were sleeping.

Steve was there when you woke up. As soon as you saw him and not Bucky your heart began to fracture. It looked like he had been crying, like he had not been to slept. Everything inside you went cold. Your mind reached out for Bucky, for the comfort of your soulmate and touched…nothing it was like he was dead. But he couldn’t be right? Even though you felt like you were dead, with the only sign that you were alive being the beeping of the monitors in the room, he couldn’t be, right? But that is what it felt like because there was just…nothing like the connection had never been. You tried again and again to push past whatever was stopping you but it was no use because there was nothing for you to grab on to. “(y/n) you have to stop pushing against that wall. It won’t help.” Steve’s voice broke and he took your hands. “It won’t help, he’s gone and…and we don’t know where he is or if he is gonna come back. So you…you have to stop pushing and focus on you right now.” He wiped the tears from your face and gave his best smile, though it did little to ease the pain “You have to be stronger than ever. I know that I am asking a lot. But you’re his best girl and you gotta be ready to kick his ass when he comes back.” All you could muster was a small twitch at the side of your mouth. “If …I was his best girl…why’d he leave me Stevie?” you whispered so softly he could barely hear but damn if it didn’t break his heart.

Then it was dark again. This time there were no comforting dreams. Steve sat there by your bed and let his chest heave as he cried quitely. He cried for a lot of reasons. After a while he stood up, and left the room for the first time in days. He knew he would have to be there for you if you were gonna make it so it was time to get cleaned up and eat something, maybe try to catch some sleep. There was a long road ahead.

It was a whole day later when you woke up again. Steve was sitting in the window of your hospital room. “Hey Stevie… see anything good out there?” He jumped at the sound of your voice and grinned at you. “Hey there sweetheart, how are you feeling?” he said softly coming to sit next you once again. He took your hand and when he squeezed gently, you squeezed back. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. “Honestly? I feel like my insides have been scrubbed with sandpaper. I feel raw and bloody…I feel the most incredible pain and yet completely numb. But…” You paused trying to steady the sick feeling in your gut. You looked directly in Steve’s soft blue eyes and they offered a little comfort in their familiarity. “But…” you continued “I know I need to get out of this hospital bed. I need to regain my strength and take care of myself, because I know he is out there. I have to find him Stevie. Now I need you to tell me everything.” Steve nodded a slight grin coming to his face “I knew there was a reason you were meant for that punk. I will tell you everything but how about you shower, get changed and we get you some food first huh?” You sighed, it bothered you to put off the inevitable but you knew you probably smelled like a trash truck and you were hungry. So you did what Steve asked and you two had lunch together. For a couple hours you both pretended like all was right in the world.

When Steve finally started talking it sounded more like a debriefing and less like his best friend was missing, honestly though it was almost easier that way. Thinking of it like another mission rather than losing your soulmate. “Well, to be honest I can’t tell you a whole lot. All I know is that Buck and I were maybe 10 feet apart. Everything was fine. Everything was fine until it wasn’t. I can’t say what happened, one second I looked over and he was fine. He was Bucky. The next he was Winter Soldat. Then Tony snapped and the fighting stopped, but I lost sight of him. I guess once there was no enemy he just took off. We do know that he stole a Wakandan air ship, but he must have damaged enough of the important components to make it untraceable. We don’t know where he is. I can guarantee though that he learned from last time, we won’t be able to find him if he doesn’t want to be found.”

You took a deep breath eyes closed. The urge to just give up right then and there was almost overwhelming. You knew there were ways to kill a super soldier. Hell you had come pretty close to it in the past. “Sweetheart, don’t go there. We both know it won’t it won’t work.” Steve’s voice yanked you sharply from the dark thoughts that crept into your mind. You sighed “Yeah, I guess you are right Stevie.” There was nothing either of you could do, except move on. Survive.

After that you and Steve were as close as could be. When you couldn’t sleep you it always seemed like Steve was up to. If you needed comfort he was there. You did everything together. Both of you knew it wasn’t really healthy but at the same time it helped with the healing. You went to therapy and got mental help. You stayed combat ready. You continued blowing minds working with Tony and Shuri on tech. You picked up new hobbies like gardening, and painting and drawing. You did everything you could to keep yourself somewhat distracted from the hollowness that ate at you.

You never cried in front of anyone but Steve, but everyone knew. Even if they couldn’t hear the crying they could hear the music that came from your room. No matter the tune no one knocked when the soft static of your record player was on. You were living in the past, trying to cope the best way you could dancing alone to songs that you and Bucky loved. Listening to your past and his with every pop of the speaker. Sometimes Steve would stand outside your room with his head pressed against the door and just listen. He’d sway along with the music because it brought back memories for him too. Eventually he would feel guilty because he wanted nothing more than to go in and take you in his arms. Kiss you. Comfort you. Part of him believed that Bucky really was gone. Part of him didn’t think he even had a soul mate and he was so fucking lonely. But he never did. If anyone ever noticed, they never said anything.

A year had passed since Bucky left.  A year you spent in therapy, spent pretending every god damn day that you didn’t want to just die so the pain would stop, clinging to Steve like a fucking life raft and Steve clung back. You both knew it wasn’t healthy but you needed each other in ways that other people couldn’t understand. Steve was the only other person who really knew Bucky. Who could understand the things that you had went through. Who was just as lonely as you. Steve was your best friend. The day after the one year Painaversary, something incredible happened. Steve finally met his Soulmate. It hit you like a slap in the face from Hulk. You had already lost your Soulmate but now you had to lose your best friend too.

Steve sat on the edge of your bed staring daggers in to the floor. He kept his eyes down when you came out of the bathroom. “Hey there (y/n/n). You wanna tell me why you have what’s the word ‘ghosted’ me for the past week.” His voice was cold and harsh. Not what you expected. Not that you had been expecting Steve to be sitting on your bed when you came out of the shower but the tone he used was the more shocking thing at the moment. “You know why Stevie.” You said moving quietly to get dressed, unable to bring your voice above a whisper. He didn’t look up until he heard a soft sob. You were standing fully clothed in Bucky’s sweats and a worn t-shirt, with your head against Bucky’s dresser. “You know why. Just because Soulmates can’t be unfaithful doesn’t mean this is okay, Stevie.” In his heart he knew you were right but it killed him, gently he picked you up, turned off the lights and tucked you into bed. Then like most every night before he climbed in behind you. His body heat a silent invitation more of a pull like a magnet, one that you couldn’t resist right now. So you snuggled into his arms your back against his chest. As he wrapped his arms around you, he whispered voice rough with emotion, “This doesn’t have to end (y/n/n). “You knew what he was trying to do. “Stevie. It’s okay. We’ve been holding on to each other so tightly because we both were drowning. You can’t make Janey hurt. It’s okay. We will still hang out, but no more late nights like this.” It hurt to say. If it was possible he pulled you closer and held you closer. His heat wrapped you up like another blanket. You sighed. He just nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He could feel your tears on his arm as he held you. Why did it feel like his heart was getting shredded? For a while there was silence. “Stevie?” “Yeah sweetheart.” “I miss him so much, this hurts so fucking bad. Why did he leave me? I wish I would have just died there. It would better than this.” You curled up in a ball, trying to make yourself as small as possible, hoping somehow it would help. Steve sat up, propped all the pillows behind him, picked you up like you were a child and tucked you safely against his chest. The sobs and half screams that tore from your throat brought tears to his eyes. All he could do was hold you, stroke your hair, kiss the top of your head and whisper “I know sweetheart. I know. I’m here. I got ya. We’ll find him I promise. We will make all of this right. I promise.” Eventually there were no more tears to cry and you relaxed. Your voice was hoarse when you whispered “I was to move to the Taiga.” “Alright sweetheart we will make it happen.”

            A month later you had everything you needed to move. Tony had help you engineer a sort of mini arc reactor that supplied your home with 100% clean energy, and all of the wood used to build your house and furniture (which admittedly was a lot) was sustainably farmed, all of the pipes that brought water to the house from the lake had all been lain with minimal disruption to the landscape.

Stevie was the one who came along and helped you actually build the little house. It had two bedrooms, a kitchen and living room. It was a cozy little place, all the modern amenities but an old time feel. Plus you had your 1945 Jeep and a snowmobile. You had everything you needed.

You and Steve held hands as you stood back admiring the house one last time.

“Looks good sweet heart. You sure you are gonna be okay out here?” His voice was light but the concern was evident by the gentle squeeze he gave your hand.

You heaved a deep sigh “Yeah. Yeah. I think I will be fine. I feel better here and now than I have since he left. I promise I will keep in contact. I mean how could I not according to Tony I have my own satellite.” You returned the squeeze of his hand to reassure him. Gently he pulled you into a great bear of a hug. You were pretty sure if you hadn’t been a super soldier he probably would have broken you, you just laughed and hugged him back. “I want you to know I love you (y/n/n) and hell I’m going to miss you. So please be safe and if you need anything call, okay?”

“I love you too Stevie, I will miss you too. I promise I will call okay. Hey you better get going you got places to be.” He held you for a moment longer, kissed the top of your head and said “Yeah you are probably right. But before I do I have one more thing for you.” He goes over to his jeep and pulls out a box with holes in it. As soon as he sets it down you open it, to be greeted by the most adorable ball cute you had ever seen in your life. You picked it up finding that it was a puppy. “Janey picked him out for you. He is probably going to be huge, but she thought he would be perfect to keep you company out here.”

“Tell her I said thank you. I think this is just what I needed.” You said cuddling the sleeping puppy to your chest. Steve nodded and smiled. You watched as he went and started his jeep and drove away. You felt as close to content as you could with your heart in ribbons.

Present

By the time you snapped back to the present the fire was low. Benji was asleep at your feet and the howling outside had stopped. You decided to grab some coffee, bundle up and go outside to watch the night sky. It was breath taking. The Northern Lights danced and swayed shifting colors as they went. The stars shone brilliantly uninhibited by light pollution. You sipped your coffee and mindlessly started to hum as you watched the night.

No one knew you could sing. All evidence destroyed from your operative days, no one knew except Bucky. Your heart swelled and your eyes closed. You lifted your face toward the sky and started to sing and you thought it was fitting when the words only came to you in Russian, while the one person you wanted to hear was god knows where. Still he was the one you sang for…or perhaps you sang for the memory of him.

“Я завидую дождю. (I envy the rain)

Он падает на вашу кожу (It falls on your skin)

Он ближе, чем мои руки.(It’s closer than my hands)

Я завидую дождю.(I envy the rain)

Я завидую ветру (I envy the wind)

Она течет сквозь твою одежду (it flows through your clothes)

Он ближе, чем твоя тень. (it’s closer than your shadow)

О, я завидую ветру(oh I envy the wind)

Я завидую ночам. (I envy the nights)

Которые я не провожу с тобой (which I can’t spend with you)

Интересно, с кем ты лежишь рядом? (I wonder who you lay next to)

О, я завидую ночам. (oh I envy the nights)

Я завидую этой любви (I envy this love)

Любовь, которая была здесь. (this love that was here)

Осталось поделиться с кем - то еще (left to share with someone else)

О, я завидую этой любви (oh I envy this love)

Потому что я пожелал тебе всего самого лучшего. (Because I wished you all the best)

Все, что может дать этот мир.(all this world can give)

и все же ты меня бросил. (still you left me)

но мне нечего прощать.(but there’s nothing to forgive)

Но я всегда думал, что ты вернешься и скажешь мне, что все, что ты нашел, это ...

(but I always thought you would come back and tell me all you found was…)

Горе и страдания(grief and suffering)

Мне трудно сказать, я завидую этому пути.(its hard for me to say, I envy the way)

Ты счастлива без меня (you are happy without me)”

Your voice broke as the last note sounded. Subconsciously you reached for ghost of the connection you shared with Bucky. For a moment you almost thought you felt something brush back. Tears welled up as you fell to your knees in the snow. You couldn’t take it anymore. A scream of pure anguish ripped through your body.

After a moment you collect yourself and took the knife you always carried from its sheath. You stripped off your coat and laid it on the ground. Rolling up your sleeves you smiled softly thinking that maybe once you were gone in a way you would be with Bucky again.

There was no hesitation as you drove the knife blade into the pulse point of your wrist and slashed up, not waiting to repeat the process to the other side. You lay on your back and gaze up at the sky. In the distance you hear a motor. No it couldn’t be. Felt something brush against your mind. You smiled at the thought of your brain trying to make you fight. You knew it was going to take a bit longer to bleed out since it was so cold. You didn’t mind it would be over soon anyway.

You weren’t sure how much time passed, but your eyes started to feel heavy. Black started creeping into the edge of your vision. You let out a sigh finally.

“(Y/N/N)!!!!!!!! NOOOOOO (Y/N/N) PLEEAASSEEE!!!”

You could see a blurry figure coming toward you.  You knew that voice. It was like they were moving in slow motion and talking underwater. But that couldn’t be right.

Suddenly you heard that stupid motor again. Then something touched your skin. For a moment you felt fireworks. You opened your eyes. “Fuck (y/n/n) please hold on. I am so sorry doll. I’m so sorry, please don’t go. Please.” Bucky’s voice rang in your ears like a call to prayer. “Baby girl please.” His voice was hoarse and choked up. Barely able to speak through the lump in his throat at the sight of you.

You forced your eyes open and took in the sight of him for what would probably be the last time and whispered “Buck?” Then the world went dark as a scream that was like the torture of a thousand hells ripped and tore through the landscape.

In the aftermath a melody played 

"In those discouraging days

I always missed the mark When we were comfort and close I would neglect to keep

Oh, you safe and unexposed A portrait of time repeats This moment now replaced With an empty wish to give I give, I gave

I gave my everything For all the wrong things In this cold reality I made This selfish war machine

Oh, this has become hell How can I share this life With someone else? I promise you There is no weight that can bury us Beneath the ghosts of all my guilt

Here in the dark side of me Here in the dark side of me

Now in your absence I wade Through the coursing, lonely, lost And in this tragic dismay I never could believe what I became

I gave my everything For all the wrong things In this cold reality I made This welcomed war machine

Oh, this has become hell How can I share this life With someone else? I promise you There is no weight that can bury us Beneath the ghosts of all my guilt

Here in the dark side of me Here in the dark side of me Here in the dark side of me Here in the dark side of me

Oh, I couldn't give you What you needed It's all my fault Too coward to believe I lost it all

I gave my everything For all the wrong things In this cold reality I made This selfish war machine

Oh, this has become hell How can I share this life With someone else? I promise you There is no weight that can bury us Beneath the ghosts of all my guilt

Here in the dark side of me Here in the dark side of me"

 "Buck are you still there? I don't want to die."

#@imanuglywombat #@littlefreya #first ever posted fanfic #please be kind #would love feedback #bucky barnes x reader

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 4

Pairings: Luke x OC

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: none? 

A/N: This one’s a bit longer but now we’re officially through episode 3! As always, let me know what you think and message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

Part 3  Masterlist

___

“We have to do something to help Julie with Flynn,” Jordan said firmly when they landed in the garage. “It’s our fault she’s in this mess.”

“I still don’t understand why she can’t just tell her about us,” Luke said and Jordan sighed.

“Seeing ghosts, real or not, isn’t really ever perceived as a one-hundred percent good thing, especially when you’ve just lost a parent.” She explained quietly and Luke nodded, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

When she turned to look at the other guys she was met with a curious stare from Alex as if he was trying to figure out what was going on between them.

“How’re you holding up?” She deflected, trying to get away from his scrutiny.

“Not great, actually,” Alex admitted beginning to pace in front of the couch where Luke and Reggie had plopped down.

Jordan crossed the room to join them, perching on the arm of the couch.

“I think he’s practicing his model strut,” Reggie speculated in a whisper and Jordan rolled her eyes.

“He’s so nervous it’s making me nervous,” Luke admitted.

“Alright Alex, spill,” Jordan addressed the blond and he stopped to stand in front of them.

“Okay, look, you guys know I don’t handle change well,” he spoke, waving his hands around anxiously. “Alright? Death? That was a change. Okay, then we became ghosts, alright? Another change. And- and now we can be seen whenever we play with Julie. Big fucking change!”

“Yeah but, bro, it was a good change!” Luke exclaimed. “With Julie we can play on stage again and be the band we never got to be! C’mon, you gotta be down for that.”

“I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t be?” Alex gulped, “I just… I wanna figure out why.”

“Forget why!” Jordan elbowed the brunet and he cursed, standing up to move away from her. “I say we invite Julie to join Sunset Curve.”

“Yeah, totally!” Reggie gasped, standing up as well. “I mean, like, think about it! With a new lead singer, this band would be legendary.”

“Hey! I’m our lead singer,” Luke pouted and Jordan snorted, earning a glare from the boy.

“Dude, that girl has the voice of an angel and she can make us visible,” Reggie explained, “Without her, we’re just elevator music.”

“I know, but you don’t gotta be so mean about it,” Luke whined, completely ignoring Alex who had begun pacing again.

“You deserve it,” Jordan quipped, receiving another glare from the boy.

“And we’re on the runway again!” He exclaimed, turning to see Alex’s pacing.

“Okay, I’m sorry, alright? I just…” Alex sighed, stopping his pacing. “I gotta go clear my head.”

He made a beeline for the door, attempting to grab the handle but his hand kept going through it.

“Dude you’re a ghost, just poof out,” Reggie said and Jordan leaned over to hit his arm.

“Don’t tell me how to ghost!” Alex cried before poofing away.

Jordan sighed when neither of the boys moved to do anything.

“I’m gonna go make sure he’s okay.” She said decisively, ignoring the boys’ arguments that he was fine as she poofed out.

When he had found her in the graveyard the day before he had said something about going someplace familiar, so she poofed to the first place she thought of: the Orpheum.

It didn’t take long for her to figure out he wasn’t there but she decided to wander around Hollywood to look. Sunset Curve had spent a lot of time in the area, playing gigs and just hanging out. She had stopped to scrutinize the costume of a fake Marilyn Monroe on the Walk of Fame when she spotted him. She immediately started walking towards him but stopped once she noticed that he wasn’t alone. He was talking to some long-haired skater boy and she silently awed when she saw the look on his face. Not wanting to interrupt his serendipitous meeting and comforted by the fact that he wasn’t alone, she poofed away before he could spot her.

She’d tried to poof to Reggie, wanting to tell him about the skater boy but she was immediately distracted upon arrival.

“What the hell guys?” She asked rhetorically, “Did you seriously learn nothing from yesterday?”

Once again Luke and Reggie were in Julie’s room, the latter once again laying on his bed. However, what Luke was doing was considerably worse. The boy was sat on the floor with Julie’s dream box open in front of him as he rifled through the pieces of paper.

“Did you not hear anything she said about boundaries?” The dark-haired girl huffed, attempting to close the dream box.

When her hand just went through the lid she plopped down in front of the box, pouting at her lack of ghostly abilities.

“This is perfect!” Luke gasped triumphantly, finally looking upon from the piece of paper in his hands. He jumped slightly when he noticed Jordan as if he had been so involved in whatever was on the paper that his brain hadn’t registered her presence. “Oh, hey Moss. When did you get back?”

Jordan raised her brows in surprise. “Wow, and I thought Reggie was the oblivious one.”

“Hey!” Reggie protested, sitting up on the bed only to be met with identically ‘come on’ looks from the ghosts on the floor. “Okay, fine, you’re right.”

“Anyway,” Luke redirected, sending one last side-eye at Reggie before addressing the room. “This poem would make killer song lyrics!”

“Ooh! Lemme see,” Reggie scrambled off the bed to lean over Luke. “Flying Solo. This looks great.” He mused.

“C’mon, we should start writing the melodies,” Luke said, poofing away to the garage, Reggie following suit but not before waving goodbye to Jordan who was still sitting on the ground. The girl dropped her disapproving look to smile at the boy before he disappeared.

She sat alone in the room for another minute before sighing and pushing herself off the carpet. She wandered through the house, searching for something to occupy her time now that all the guys were busy and Julie was at school. After a period of aimless wandering- time seemed to flow differently now that she was dead- she stumbled across a large bookshelf and paused. Jordan hadn’t read a book since ’95 but it had been one of her favorite pastimes after music. She browsed the selection of mostly unrecognizable title- of course plenty of hits had been published in the twenty-five years since she had passed- until she settled on a novel heralded as ‘The Next Harry Potter’ though she had no idea who Harry Potter was. The book was well worn as if it had been read many times and as far as Jordan was concerned, that was the tell-tale sign of a good book.

She pulled the blue-green book from the shelf, taking it with her as she poofed to the garage. The book showing endeavor had taken quite a bit of time as the books had kept falling through her ghost hands. Fortunately, none of the Molina’s had been home to hear the multiple thuds.

Despite the amount of time she had spent in the house, when she arrived in the studio Reggie and Luke were still stood around the piano working on their new song. Neither boy acknowledge her appearance- too immersed in their work- so she laid down on the couch and immersed herself in 2012 New York.

She wasn’t sure how long she’s laid there in silence, only that she’d reached Chapter 8: We Capture a Flag when her attention was finally drawn away. The guys had moved from writing to working it out on their instruments (which Jordan had selectively ignored because they wouldn’t listen to her anyway) when Julie got home from school.

“Guys! You’re not supposed to be out here playing alone,” she said, giving them her signature ‘are you serious?’ look.

“But we’re not alone,” Reggie explained as Luke came up to hold him from behind, “Because we always have each other!”

“Ugh,” Jordan groaned, rolling her eyes at their cheesiness.

“Agreed,” Julie quipped, smiling briefly at the ghost girl before moving to unplug both boys’ instruments from their amps.

“But we had the volume on level one!” Luke protested.

“But we rocked it on volume ten!” Reggie added, “Want us to play it again?”

“I really don’t think she does,” Luke whispered to the boy as Julie unplugged his amp, dropping the cord to the ground menacingly.

“We’ve actually been waiting for you to get home,” Luke changed directions, hoping to avoid the Latina’s wrath. “Okay, so, we have some pretty major news to tell you. We had a band meeting earlier and…” He pointed at Reggie who began a drumroll on his legs.

“We want you to join Sunset Curve! And no, you’re not dreaming,” The brunet exclaimed, looking very proud of himself.

Julie, however, looked less thrilled. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s what you say when you get socks for Christmas, not when you get asked to join the most epic band ever!”

“Second most epic band,” Jordan spoke up from the couch where she had set aside her book momentarily to watch this unfold.

Luke glared at her while Julie began to explain herself.

“Sorry, I’m honored, but I can’t think about anything but Flynn right now. She’s still mad at me for lying, she hasn’t even texted me back!”

“Yeah, you’re in a tough spot,” Luke started, though clearly he wasn’t really considering what the girl had said, “So, you wanna join the band?”

“Read the room, dude.” Julie glared, turning to walk out of the garage.

“Way to be sincere doofus,” Jordan said harshly, returning to her book.

“Oh, come on!” Luke called, getting the girl to stop before the doors, “We need you and you need us because you need music! We found this poem that you wrote-“

“She’s gonna be pissed,” Jordan said in a sing-song voice, eyes trained on her book but clearly still listening.

“Reggie and I added this really cool melody to it. It sounds awesome!” Luke continued, ignoring Jordan.

“Where’d you find that?” Julie asked warily.

“Uh… definitely not in your dream box,” Luke lied, pulling Reggie in front of him to protect himself from Julie, clearly forgetting that she could just walk right through the ghost bassist.

“You went through my stuff?!” She shouted, quickly advancing on the guitarist while Reggie jumped out of the way.

“Told you,” Jordan muttered, though it was lost in the chaos of the room.

“I know, but-” Luke tried to excuse but was cut off by Reggie.  

“Yeah, we can do that now!” The dark-haired ghost responded, completely contradicting his bandmate.

“No! No you can’t! Boundaries!” Julie shouted, reaching across the piano towards Luke. “Give it back!”

“No!” Luke denied, climbing onto the piano bench. “You need to realize how insanely talented you are! Okay? Listen to this:

“If somebody hurts you, I’m gonna get hurt too, and my life my life would be real low, zero, flying solo.”

“Oh-Oh” Reggie echoed from behind Julie and Luke grinned at him before turning back to the girl in front of him.

“It’s a killer melody,” he said.

“I wrote that about Flynn when she was helping me with all my mom stuff,” Julie sighed. “I gotta go.”

“Hey! What about the band!” Luke called after her as she turned to leave again.

Oh, I almost forgot,” She spoke, turning back around and an excited look grew on Luke’s face. “Stay out of my room!”

“Yeah?” Luke called, running after her and sticking his head through the door, “We will if you join our band!”

“Idiot,” Jordan muttered, finally turning her full attention back to the book.

She did her best to ignore the shuffling around her as the boys moved about. She was mostly successful, managing to get in a full page of reading before Reggie poked the back of her hand and she pulled her attention away to glare at him.

“What do you want?” She groaned as she turned to look at the two boys who were now seated in front of the couch.

“So, you’re a girl,” Luke started and Jordan snorted.

“Very astute observation, Sherlock,” she quipped, turning back to her book with the intention of ignoring them completely.

“Just let me finish!”

“That’s what she said.”

“Jordan!” He whined, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Please?”

She sighed, closing the book and setting it down next to her as she swung her legs around to sit up on the sofa.

“Fine. Yes, I am a girl, what do you need?”

“We thought you might have some insight on what to do about Julie?” He said, though his unsureness made it sound like a question.

“She’s not going to even think about joining your band until she’s smoothed things over with Flynn. She’s her best friend and she means more to her than music does.”

“Woah. How’d you figure all that out?” Reggie asked, amazed.

“Girl code, man!” Luke answered, hitting Reggie’s chest.

“She’s literally said all of that to you within the last twenty-four hours,” Jordan said, staring at them with a look of pure disbelief. “There’s no ‘code’, you guys just don’t listen.”

“Okay, so how do we fix things with Julie and Flynn?” Luke said, selectively ignoring what she had just said.

“I hate to say it,” she sighed, “But you guys might already be on the right track with the song. Julie said she wrote the poem about Flynn, so maybe if she performs the song for her, Flynn’ll see how much their friendship means to her.”

“That’s a great idea!” Luke exclaimed and Jordan smirked, jokingly flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically. “C’mon! Let’s get to work.”

Jordan moved to return to her reading when she noticed the brunet was staring pointedly at her.

“What do you need me for?”

“Well, Reggie and I can’t write the piano part.”

____

“So, when she says ‘deep-dish’, do you think she’s talking about pizza?” Reggie asked in all seriousness.

Jordan, who had kept playing the piano despite the other two ghosts dropping out, stopped playing then in shock.

“Dude,” she breathed, at this point in awe of the boy’s cluelessness.

It was just then that Alex decided to show up, poofing in right on top of the piano between Reggie and Luke.

“Oh! Hey man, where you been?” Reggie asked, immediately distracted from his previous question.

“Um, kinda everywhere,” Alex answered, “Yeah. No, I met a new ghost friend.”

“For real?” Reggie asked, amazed.

“Wait, cute skater boy was a ghost?” Jordan asked from behind them, brows raised in surprise.

“Yeah he- wait, how’d you know that?” He asked, turning around to peer at the girl behind the piano.

“Hm? Oh! I went to check on you after you left but when I found you, you had already found him so I just came back,” Jordan shrugged and Alex nodded.

“Yeah, anyway, he answered a ton of questions.”

“Like whether Julie’s gonna join the band or not?” Luke asked through the guitar pick he still held between his teeth.

“Uh… well we didn’t... didn’t really get to that,” Alex muttered, giving Luke a weird stare before turning back to Jordan and Reggie. “But, I think I know why we’re here. Okay? All ghosts have, like, unfinished business. So we have t do our unfinished business so that we can cross over.”

“Why would we do that?” Luke asked, immediately drawing everyone’s attention in a mix of shock and confusion.

“Some of us might actually want to cross over,” Jordan said crossly, frowning at the boy.

“I’m just saying, this is like our second chance. All we need to do is get Julie to play with us.” He explained and Reggie nodded.

“Not only can that girl sing, she can write too. Luke and I made a killer melody to one of her songs!” Jordan cleared her throat and Reggie blushed, adding on, “And Jordan helped too.”

“Oh… without your drummer, cool,” Alex mumbled as he looked over the song Luke had just handed him.

“Drumming is so ’90s,” Luke joked, clapping his friend lightly on the back. “We’re just gonna… stomp our feet now.”

“Okay. Well, you know what else is so ‘90s?” Alex responded, “Being rude. All right? Get woke, these are sensitive times.”

“Alex! Ow…” Luke whined quietly as Alex forcefully returned his notebook.

“I learned that from my ghost friend,” Alex whispered to Reggie and Jordan.

“What so they don’t say ‘fly’ anymore but they say ‘woke’?” Jordan muttered in a mix of confusion and distaste.

“‘Woke.’” Reggie repeated. “That’s a cool word, what does it mean?”

“No clue.”

Jordan chuckled lightly before noticing the petulant look on Luke’s face.

“Well, now that Alex is here maybe we can properly work on this song?” She proposed, “We gotta fix things with Julie and Flynn; we got her into this mess in the first place.”

The boys all nodded, Alex moving off the piano so they could all see each other. Fortunately, Luke and Reggie had already worked out most of their own parts and now all they needed were the piano and drum set. They got a good few minutes in working together, Alex drumming on the piano with his hands while Jordan played as quietly as possible, the four of them stopping every few lines to scribble in rhythms. They had the song just about finished when Julie burst into the garage.

“Grab your instruments, we need to rehearse the song.”

The four ghosts looked between themselves in confusion.

“I need to prove to Flynn that you’re ghosts but we only have a half-hour to rehearse, let’s go!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together as if to say ‘chop-chop”.

The guys began to scramble around the room getting everything set up, and Jordan handed Julie her piano part before retiring to the couch once more. She laid back down, grabbing her book and flipping to the page she had left off on while the new Sunset Curve began to rehearse their new hit.

The half-hour flew by quickly and before they knew it Flynn was knocking on the door of the garage.

“Thanks for coming,” Julie smiled as she opened the doors. “We just wanted to rehearse the song so it was perfect, which it’s not, but whatever.”

Jordan put her book down, wanting to watch what happened.

“No, if I’m gonna hear a song from your imaginary ghost band, it needs to be perfect.” Flynn objected, “So get back in there, all of you. You too.” She said, pointing around the space at the imaginary ghosts.

“Wow, she was way off,” Reggie said and the rest of the ghosts shook their heads. “I’m over here!!”

“They’re not out here,” Julie informed Flynn with a chuckle, gesturing the girl inside the garage.

“Oh, I know.”

“Alright guys, you ready?” Julie asked, looking back towards the guys who all gave thumbs up.

“Um, Julie?” Reggie spoke up, “Can you move Flynn? I need room to, y’know, rock out.”

Julie laughed but complied with his request, ushering Flynn to one of the chairs in front of the setup.

“If you’ll notice, there’s no equipment that can create a hologram. Feel free to look around the room.” Julie spoke, taking her place behind the keyboard.

She took a deep breath before addressing her friend, “The guys took a poem I wrote about you and put it to music.”

“Aww! I wish I didn’t have to talk to your dad after this,” Flynn sassed and Jordan laughed.

“I like her.” She said, and Julie glanced her way with a smile.

“It’s called Flying Solo, I hope you like it,” Julie introduced the song before beginning to play.

Jordan could see the song working on Flynn right from the start, the girl clearly vibing with the music and lyrics. At the risk of sounding cheesy, she felt like she was watching their friendship mend itself.

Flynn screamed when the chorus hit and the guys joined in, immediately becoming visible. Julie stepped away from the piano to crouch in front of her best friend, singing the next verse directly to her before pulling her up to rock out with the guys for the chorus. Jordan tried to hide the bouncing of her own leg to the beat, not wanting to admit she too was vibing with Luke’s song. Though, the boy had clearly noticed, moving over to the mic stand that had been left next to the couch. He perched on the end, making sure to smirk superiorly at her and she rolled her eyes, crossing her arms stubbornly.

As she sang, Julie guided Flynn around the room to each of the boys, ending with Reggie as they reached a break in the song, the guys continued to play lightly in order to stay visible. Flynn experimentally stuck her hand through Reggie before retracting it quickly in alarm.

“Weird right?” Reggie spoke and Flynn gasped.

“They’re ghosts!” She exclaimed and Julie nodded.

“Uh, we prefer musician spirits,” Alex corrected jokingly and Reggie nodded, pointing affirmatively at the drummer.

“Where’s the other one?” Flynn asked, peering around the room, “The girl?”

“Oh, Jordan’s on the couch. I honestly don’t know why she’s not playing.” Julie turned to look at the girl in question and Jordan shrugged.

“Not my song, not my band.”

“Hey, Julie?” Luke called, redirecting the living girls’ attention. “Does this mean you’re joining our band?”

“Actually, I think you’re joining her band,” Flynn interjected matter-of-factly.

“I’m gonna go with what she said,” Julie grinned, slinging an arm around her best friend. “You too Jordan,” she added, gesturing to the dark-haired girl.

Jordan smiled brightly at the invite, poofing behind the piano as the band started back up.

Julie and Flynn immediately moved over to her as she picked up the piano part. It felt nice to rock out with the girls and it felt even more gratifying when the guys dropped out, leaving only the piano part and Julie’s voice as she sang to her friend.

The four ghosts exchanged smiles with each other, Luke and Jordan to high off the performance to care about their rivalry.

“Still wanna talk to my dad?” Julie asked when the song had finished.

“No, I’m good,” Flynn responded and the girls hugged, the four ghosts vanishing from sight.

Part 5

___

Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @meangirlsx @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the himbos #jatp fic #luke patterson fic #luke patterson x oc #luke jatp #jatp luke #luke x oc #sunset curve #alex mercer #jatp alex #reggie peters #jatp reggie #julie molina #flynn jatp #jatp flynn #willie jatp #jatp willie #willex #flying solo #jatp 1x03

[beyondthenightfall-blog]

Half-Heart: Chapter Five

"Wakey wakey!" Lucy's jolly voice yanked Ophelia out of her slumber, and she snapped her eyes open with a sharp intake of breath. For once though, she'd slept without having to stare into those yellow eyes, or listen to anyone screaming. Although Lucy's loud entrance had startled her, her pounding heart quickly calmed itself. The young human marched through the wooden door, closing it securely behind her. Beams of silvery moonlight cast dark shadows across the floor as Ophelia raised her head, rubbing one eye. Night had fallen, and the festival was surely about to begin. Lucy crossed the room to a lantern on a box, and struck a match to light it. Ophelia hoisted herself up into a sitting position and yawned, as Lucy pattered past her to pull the curtain closed. "Haven't you got a festival to get to?" Lucy asked, giving the dragoness's shoulder a shove. "Go on, get out of here! I want a bath and my bed." "You're not coming with me?" Ophelia turned to her, feeling crestfallen. "My feet feel like they're about to fall off," Lucy said reasonably. "Honestly, I don't think I'd have the energy to traipse around town for another few hours. It's not like we could walk together without turning some heads, anyway." Ophelia nodded sadly, knowing it was true. "OK ... that's fine. I'll bring you those herbs you wanted." "Thanks," Lucy called, already retreating behind a curtain in the corner to undress. "And a muffin. See if old Drust is still making those amazing cranberry ones from last year." "Will do." Ophelia stood up and stretched, sinking her lower body to the floor and raising her tail. She'd only napped for an hour, but felt as though she was still tied in a knot. Her legs felt like pillars of stone, begging for her to drop back onto her cushion and stay there. But the Festival of First Night was finally here! She'd never miss that for anything; all the food and music and dancing was too good to pass up. Bards arrived from all over Soven to tell stories and sing songs of ancient legends and mythology. Dragons from all over, of all shapes, colours and sizes, came to share news from other parts of the kingdom, and brought exotic merchandise to trade. The very best of Soven's culture and traditions came to life on this night, and Ophelia would not miss it for anything. "I'll be off, then," Ophelia said, padding past the twitching curtain around Lucy. "See you tomorrow morning." Lucy was quiet for a moment. They both knew all too well that Ophelia would be coming to say goodbye before her flight back to the Northlands. "Have fun," she called happily instead. "Say hi to Drust for me. And that Faunish lady in the apothecary's." Ophelia poked her head out into the corridor to check that nobody was there, then stepped out and locked the door behind her. The best night of the year had arrived, and that thought shot bolts of excitement into her steps, and she quickened her pace. Descending the stairwell into the crowded inn, she took one more cautious look around before ducking and wriggling her way past the rowdy patrons. She'd never been happier to see Myrn's streets. The moment she walked out into the cool night air, her nose was assaulted by every delicious smell imaginable. Ophelia could detect the distant sizzle of a variety of meats, but closer she detected a tray full of freshly baked fruit pies being pulled out of an oven. Ophelia had never seen Myrn looking so bright. Colourful banners and tapestries hung between the trees and lampposts, zigzagging down a road lined by food and souvenir stores. Creatures large and small wandered between them, stopping to examine the wares. Most of them were dragons, but Ophelia spotted some goat-legged fauns as well as some half-human, half-horse centaurs. She was even surprised to spot a griffin, the eagle-lion hybrid enjoying a stroll through the festivities at her own pace. She glanced at Ophelia and smiled at her as she passed. The dragoness's stomach growled as she wandered towards the meat stall. She'd been too anxious to eat anything at the inn earlier, while she'd been waiting for Mort, but now felt the impact of not having anything to eat all day. She was starving, and was more than tempted to buy a lump of venison or beef to chew on before she made her way to the square. But she didn't want to miss any of the bards' tales, or any performances from the musicians. The square was probably close to getting full, if it wasn't already, given that it was tradition at this point to gather there and listen to the stories and songs. Ophelia ignored her rumbling stomach and walked on, passing three dragonlings laughing and tumbling over one another. Her breath caught in her chest as she stepped out of the row of shops and Myrn's square came into view. Apart from the impressive statue in the centre, it was usually just as bland, dusty and boring as the rest of the landscape, but the festival had changed all of that. Every space possible had been taken up by entertainers, storytellers, musicians ... even the statue itself had been draped in long ribbons; Ophelia spotted some dragonlings swooping around it, tossing colourful flags over its horns and wings. Several groups of performers and musicians had lined themselves around the edges. Ophelia felt the heat of torches being flung and spun around by a fire juggler on her right, and quickened her pace to get out of the way. Even from a distance, fire always felt like it was scraping her scales off with a hot knife. A few steps away was a small group of fauns playing instruments and dancing jovially. One at the back spun in eloquent circles while shaking and tapping a tambourine, and another two near the front played merry tunes on a fiddle and flute. At the head of them was a Faunish woman, draping a green cloak around her shoulders and adorning a crown of white-petaled flowers on her head, singing with all her heart a song written in one of the Old Tongues. Ophelia tossed a gold coin into a bowl at her hooves. The faun twirled in a circle, the cloak billowing behind her like wings, and lowered herself into a graceful bow. "Thank you, miss," she said. "Moon shine on you." Ophelia nodded in thanks, then craned her neck over the crowds. Just beyond the dragon statue, at the back of the square, was a wooden stage with glowing white globes on pedestals marking each corner. A group of dragonlings sat in front of it, clumped together to accommodate the adults and other creatures that sat around them. That was the main bards' platform, where the most experienced in their profession got to tell their stories to a larger audience. Excitement fluttering in her heart, Ophelia made straight for it. Aside from the parents who were only there to watch their child, Ophelia was the only adult dragon in the audience. She sat on her haunches at the back, earning some inquisitive glances from the children. Among the adults and larger creatures circling them, Ophelia spotted another griffin, the silver light from the globes glimmering across his black feathers. One of the heads at the front twisted round to face her, and a pair of big blue eyes lit up. The little dragoness began trampling her way towards her, earning a few grunts of annoyance and an "owwwww..." as she trod over someone's tail. "Miss Ophelia," she gasped the moment she reached her. She reared onto her hind legs, holding out a necklace she was wearing. "Do you like it? My mother made it for me!" "It's beautiful, Aeryn," Ophelia smiled back, poking the blue-white stone dangling off the end of it. "I'll bet that's a real moonstone." "It totally is!" Aeryn beamed from horn to horn, wobbling on her back feet. "Real jewels, just like a real princess!" Ophelia glanced up to see some of the other children snickering at her. She wanted to wrap her wings around Aeryn and bare her teeth at them. The dragonling dropped to all fours, suddenly looking bashful. "Can I ... can I sit with you?" she asked, twisting her tail in her claws. "The kids at the front are kinda mean and keep poking me." "Of course." Ophelia parted her legs slightly so Aeryn could sit between her front feet. The child's warm, peach-coloured scales brushed lightly against hers. She thought the young dragon might comment on her scales being cold as they usually were, but she shuffled happily into a comfortable position and didn't say anything. A hush fell over the waiting audience as an elderly Earth-Wielder plodded up onto the stage. Her dark green scales were dulled with age, and one of her wings hung crookedly at her side, but her brown eyes were gentle and shone bright as a newborn's. A pair of broad, twisted horns not unlike antlers protruded from either side of her head. Several beaded necklaces hung around her neck, and Ophelia spotted some moonstones among the other stones that lined them. "That's Duna," Aeryn hissed excitedly from beneath her. "She's soooo old and she's been all over Soven several times! I love her stories!" Ophelia had heard of her and read several of her poems, but had never actually seen her tell a story. She sat up eagerly, ready to hear it, when a sliver of unease suddenly crept up her spine. She felt like she was being watched. She twisted her head round to examine the square behind her, but didn't catch anyone's eyes looking at her. She took a deep breath, curling her claws. You don't have to be afraid anymore, she told herself. You did it - you arranged the contract. You can relax now. You can... "Young ones," Duna called in a voice stronger than her frail appearance. "And young at heart," she added, glancing at Ophelia with a mischievous wink. The Ice-Wielder felt herself blush. "Thank you for coming, but I'm not here to tell you the tale you thought I would. I'm sure you all expected me to recount the story of the Starfall, yes?" Several murmurs eddied through the crowd. "But you all know that one," said Duna. "We all grow up knowing that the heavens themselves blessed our dead and desolate world with new life by sending down a rain of stars; we know that the first dragons, the Elementals, were born from those very stars, and that they helped to shape the kingdom of Soven, and indeed the rest of the world, with their life-giving powers." "But tonight, children, I'm going to tell you a darker tale. One that took place not too long after the Starfall, in fact. It is the story of the Half-Heart, and the horrendous war that he wrought all those thousands of years ago." Several of the dragonlings whispered nervously to one another, but others leaned forward eagerly. Ophelia felt Aeryn shuffle slightly between her feet. This story was fascinating, yet terrifying at the same time. While she loved to hear it, Ophelia always felt a sense of unease in her stomach whenever she did, especially when it came to one particular detail. "The black-eyed dragon," Duna said dramatically. "That is what he was known as. Right from the moment he hatched, he was bound to a terrible, unavoidable destiny. For you see, one of the Elementals that arose at World's Birth was not like the others. He was known as the Dark One, and he sought to have all the power in the world for himself instead of sharing it among themselves like the others. The Elementals knew all too well of his evil nature, and were able to combine their powers and seal him away so that he could not have any descendants. It worked for a time ... until the birth of the black-eyed dragon." "For that child was the spawn of the Dark One, who worked to one day free himself from his imprisonment. He created a living vessel strong enough to contain his own spirit so that he may one day rise again. Of course, from his seclusion, he needed help." "Although they were few and far between, the Dark One still had supporters that wished to see his return and live in a world under his rule. By his instruction, they plucked the black-eyed dragon straight from his home and performed an ancient, unspeakable ritual that lasted through the night; a ritual that no other creature had ever survived until then ... that dragon arose as the world's first Half-Heart." Most of the dragonlings now had their heads and tails raised, fully alert. A few of them exchanged whispers, while a few of the parents sitting around the edges looked as though they weren't sure their children should be hearing this story. They should, Ophelia thought at them. They need to know that such evil can be vanquished and that they can do the impossible if they put their minds to it. A pair of eyes darker than the deepest abyss floated into her vision, then disappeared again as she shook her head. Not that we'll ever have to do anything like that again... She glanced to her left as blue scales stepped into her vision; a big Water-Wielder had padded over and sat down next to her. At least she wasn't the only non-parental adult after all. "Chaos," Duna almost shouted, snapping open her good wing. "Once again the element of Chaos was tearing the world to pieces as the Dark One used his new body to wreak mayhem and death across the land!" The blue dragon beside Ophelia suddenly scoffed. "Never understood bards, myself," he murmured in her ear. "To dramatic and theatrical for my tastes." Then why are you even here? Ophelia thought with a flare of irritation. "Still, it beats that seafood stall back there," he went on. "Far too overcooked, and too bony. Last year they had that fabulous shellfish one, with that Centaurion guy who came all the way from Anorma. Wonder where he got to this year?" Ophelia flashed a polite smile at him, but really wished that he would shut up so she could finish listening to the story. "With the help of the Starborn," Duna was saying, "the human warrior and the dragon discovered the locations of the Elementals' artifacts and set out with their armies to retrieve them from their hiding places - caverns deep within the mountains; a sunken palace far out to sea; a sacred grove at the heart of an immense forest--" "And then they went and battled the Half-Heart and they won. The end," the water dragon said, flicking his finned tail. "Brightest moons, is she done yet?" Ophelia didn't often feel like clawing anyone's snout off, but this dragon was starting to change that. "Following their victory," Duna said, "the pair of them sealed the Dark One's spirit away again, for good this time. They led the people onwards, helping them to rebuild Soven and revive it from the ruins of the Dark One's savage rampage. Indeed, Adalysa and her dragon Gorenth were hailed as the heroes of Soven, and saviors of the entire world as we know it." Ophelia held her breath, hoping that Duna would be the one to say what every bard seemed to neglect mentioning these days. "And that, children, is why we are here tonight." The old bard tilted her head to the sky, the millions of stars glinting in the reflection of her eyes. "We are here to celebrate our lives, and give thanks to the moon and her stars for always guiding and protecting us along our paths. For without the help of the Starborn, Adalysa and Gorenth would never have found the relics, and who knows what Soven would be like today if they hadn't." She released her breath into a disappointed sigh. Of course Duna wouldn't talk about one of the most important things to ever come out of those events. Bards hardly ever did these days. Ophelia glanced over at the water dragon with a frown. If it weren't for his rambling, she wouldn't have missed a good half of the story. To her alarm, he was looking straight at her. Before she could fumble out any words, he chuckled. "If you believe that sort of thing. Load of old drivel if you ask me." "I'm sorry, can I help you?" Ophelia asked, biting down on her irritation. "Hm?" "J-Just – do I know you? I-I'm sorry, I don't recognise you from anywhere." "Ah," he said, raising a webbed paw to his forehead. "Forgive me. I do tend to go on a bit, don't I?" He shrugged sheepishly. "I guess I was just looking for someone to talk to. Not many have the time for an old veteran these days." "Oh." Feeling lower than the gravel beneath her claws, Ophelia ducked her head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to come off as rude." "It's quite all right," said the blue dragon, watching Duna as she limped off the stage. The audience slowly began to disperse, the children bounding off to rejoin their parents. Aeryn, however, stayed put, her bright eyes gazing up at him curiously. "Is this child a relative of yours?" he asked, glancing down at her. "Oh no, no," said Ophelia, shaking her head. "I pass her school from time to time, and she always comes up to the fence to talk to me." Truth be told, Ophelia didn't quite know why Aeryn had taken such a liking to her. All she'd done was smile at the child as she passed her playground one day, and that was it. Every lunchtime, whenever she passed the school on her way to the oasis outside of town to drink, Aeryn was waiting to yell out her name and show her the gap in her mouth where her baby tooth had fallen out, or how long her horns were growing, and the like. She sometimes wished her mind was as pure as a child's; that she could just accept a smile for what it was and not wonder if there was some sinister motive she didn't know about. "Oh I see," said the veteran. Ophelia could tell he was trying to be polite, but looked overall unimpressed as he surveyed the child. Aeryn puffed out her chest and tried to pull off a fierce-looking glare. "I'm Roth, by the way," he added, looking back up at her. "Ophelia." "Hmm," Roth said. Ophelia couldn't help but feel uneasy at the way he was looking at her so intensely. Now that she was getting a better look at him, she noticed that he had a scattering of white scales speckled across his neck and back, much like the dark blue ones that she had, except he had a lot more of them. He almost looked as though he'd just emerged from a snow storm; Ophelia almost felt the need to start brushing him off. He was big for a Water-Wielder, and covered in scars, one of which raked across his mouth, twisting its corner up into an odd grimace. Large wings with a very pale blue membrane, almost white, sat folded against his sides, and teal-coloured eyes pressed into her every scale, "What brings you down here to Myrn?" he asked her, the fins on his cheeks fluttering open slightly. "Don't see many of your kind this far south." "I'm a traveler," Ophelia replied, repeating the lines she'd rehearsed to herself over and over again. "I was just passing through and decided to stick around for the festival. I won't be here for much longer." Her mouth twitched into a wry smile. "I could ask the same of you." "Fair enough," Roth chuckled lightly. He paused for a moment, watching the last of the children in the crowd rejoin their parents. A young faun pulling a star-shaped kite dashed past them, yelling gleefully to his father nearby. "Just some business with a friend," he answered, rubbing at the gills on his neck. "I can't wait to find a nice river and dive into it for a good week. It'll take that long to wash off the dust between my scales." "Mhm," Ophelia said, hardly listening. Aeryn's mother had appeared from one of the side streets, and was waving to her daughter. "I gotta go," Aeryn said, twisting round to look up at her. "Is it true that you're going to leave soon?" Ophelia felt her heart ache as she lowered her snout down to her. "I'll be going back up north for a while, yes," she said. "But I'll come down to visit you." "Yay!" Aeryn bounced out from between her feet. "I'll be even bigger then. Big and strong! I'll be super fierce as soon as all my big teeth have finished growing." She bounded off to her mother, still talking, and Ophelia couldn't quite imagine the bumbling, overexcited little child one day being anything close to 'big' or 'fierce'. "Hm," Roth rumbled beside her. "I can't remember what it was like to have so much energy." Ophelia watched Aeryn disappear with her mother, then hoisted herself up and turned to leave. "Well," she said to Roth, "it was nice to meet--" But the Water-Wielder stood up as well, and began to follow her. "I was going to leave tomorrow morning," he said, catching up to her as she passed the dragon statue. It wasn't quite so imposing now that it was covered in ribbons. "I take it you're staying at The Salamander?" Ophelia stared at him, eyes wide. How does he know...? "Yes," she answered. "Just a guess," Roth said hastily. "It's a bit cheaper there than other places, so I don't blame you. I happen to be heading to the north as well, though perhaps not as far as you. How about we set out together? I wouldn't mind having a companion for such a long journey, to be honest." Ophelia wanted so, so desperately to say no; she personally loved the solitude and peace of a long flight with just the clouds, the wind and the occasional bird to keep her company. Not only that, but there was something about this old dragon that seemed a little ... off. Maybe it was the way he stared at her as though he was picking her scales off to reveal what was hidden underneath, or his insistence at staying at her side. He seemed like the type of dragon her parents warned her to stay away from. But if what he said is true, she thought, her compassionate side taking over, then he must be quite lonely. I know what it's like to need a friend ... But what about Lucy? I don't want to leave until I feel ready to; I want to make sure she'll be OK without me, and to say goodbye properly. "I'm ... not sure I'll be leaving until a little later in the day," she said to Roth, stopping just short of the long street of merchants. "I have a friend here I'd like to spend a little more time with." "Are they at The Salamander too?" he asked her. Ophelia blinked, a little taken aback by the sudden hint of severity in his tone. "Yes." "They can come as well." Roth shifted from one foot to the other impatiently. "I'll even pay for their lodging, should we stop off somewhere for the night. It's really no trouble at all." "No, thank you," Ophelia said firmly, but politely. She took an involuntary step backwards, almost stepping on the hoof of a passing centaur. She was beginning to feel like bolting wouldn't be such a bad idea. She glanced behind her, trying to spot a path through the crowds. Roth's expression changed as quickly as a switch being flipped. His blue-green eyes narrowed, and his gills flared as he growled. He took a step towards her, lashing his thick, powerful tail, and raised his top lip into a snarl. "Did I neglect to mention that you do not have a choice?" he snarled. "You are coming with me!" He lunged towards her with speed she wouldn't have expected from a dragon his size, reaching out his claws to grab her wrist. But Ophelia was quicker. Her head lashed out, quick as a viper, and sunk her fangs into his outstretched paw. Roth yanked his arm back, yelping in pain, but by the time he looked up the dragoness had gone; swallowed up by the tangle of wings and tails. Panic bubbled up into Ophelia's chest as she weaved her way through the crowd. Get away get away get away, her head chanted frantically at her. By the time she'd reached the latter end of the street, she felt as though her heart was going to explode. She stopped, panting, and gripped at the ground with her claws. That dragon had just tried to abduct her, right in the middle of a crowded festival. Why? she fretted. Why me? Why now? What are people like that even doing here?! "Hey," said a soft voice from her side. Ophelia snapped her head round to see the black griffin from the square looking at her with concern in his sharp yellow eyes. "I saw that. Are you all right?" Ophelia hastily nodded and took off to the very last stall, where a dragoness was selling moonstone jewellery. She curled her claws, clenching her jaw. She would pick up some trinkets, take a quick detour to the apothecary's for Lucy and then get back to the inn as quickly as possible. He knows that I'm staying there, she remembered with a bolt of horror. What if he came back? She already knew she wouldn't sleep a wink that night, watching the door in case he suddenly crashed through it. The sooner she could return to the inn and warn Lucy, the better. Thankfully, the merchants she needed to visit were nowhere near the square, so she didn't have to go back. She kept glancing around her and started whenever she saw blue scales, but none of them belonged to Roth. Mercifully, he seemed to have vanished. But he could be watching like he was earlier -- just get back, just get back! She swept from one stall to the next, buying what she needed to buy, but never quite getting Roth out of her mind, no matter how hard she tried. Who was he? And more importantly ... what did he want with me?

#dragon #story #fantasy