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gisellelx · 3 years

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Daffodils

Pairing: Carlisle/Esme Word count: 1600 TW: Esme’s backstory

March 1, 1921

Carlisle was angry.

Well, not angry. Esme had to amend her understanding of that word. Charles had been angry. She remembered what anger looked like, sounded like, felt like against and within her body. If Carlisle was able to get angry, she certainly hadn’t seen it yet, and where he was now wasn’t that.

Carlisle was upset. That word better matched the draw in his brow, the tightness of his jaw. He paced his study, slowly, because the room was too small to afford him the room to move at his full speed.

Edward had come to her a week ago, in the garden, at night, the moonlight shading across both their bodies such that it made their skin seem to become a silvery shimmer. He’d sat across from her, his knees pulled to his chest, watching as she carefully put bulbs into the ground. It was still too early; the ground still likely to freeze. They were so much further north than London, the tiny rural enclave where she’d so freely swung from the branches of the huge crabapple tree in her front yard. At this time of year, the daffodils would already be starting to peek their way out from the thawing dirt, their orange and yellow-white heads cheerily greeting the tired Ohioan farmhands who were starting to prepare the fields. Her mother had always kept the beds neatly; ensuring that year after year a crop of the bright little flowers would appear just in time for St. David’s Day.

And so she was planting them, in the moonlight, knowing that it would be several weeks before they made their appearance. Like everything, it was the time which had shifted. The way her body moved so much more quickly. The way she could perch in perfect stillness on a tree branch, no longer worried about taking a fall and fracturing her leg. The way death had stolen away from her in three days of agony, and she’d awoken to the kind, concerned face of this man she had never forgotten.

Carlisle.

She’d asked his name, ten years ago. She remembered the way his brow furrowed in confusion when he’d told her. The tiny hitch in his voice when he admitted that he didn’t remember his mother. She hung onto every word, stored every flickering glance he’d given her. Even through the haze of the laudanum she’d remembered, and it had been so easy, sliding into this household with the kind doctor and the affable, but aloof, boy.

Edward had sat in the garden for a half hour, watching her dig, plant a bulb, and pat the earth back down, over and over, before he made clear his reason for coming outside.

“You have to tell him, Esme,” he said, his tone hard and frustrated and she sighed.

She didn’t want to burden Edward. He was a boy. His body had never filled out as it would have had he matured even a few years more. And even as an immortal, he was only twenty. The images that she tried valiantly to keep from her mind, lest he see them—she knew they hurt him. Charles’ hands, the way they moved when she had displeased him, so fast she didn’t even see them before she felt their impact. The constant fear. The way nothing was ever good enough—the groceries she bought, too expensive, the curtains she sewed with inexpert seams. Edward had heard the bellowing voice, felt her entire body tense at the sound of the good shoes crossing the threshold, the wool coat and hat finding their way to the hook by the door.

And what had happened over and over on the second floor, in the privacy of their bedroom—Edward had seen that, too.

“I can’t,” she told him.

“He has to know.”

She shook her head.

“Esme…he cares for you. He has to know.” The boy’s voice was hard, frustrated.

The words caught her up short. He cared for her, she knew that much. He’d taught her to hunt, and he gave her things to read. He showered her with anything she wanted; dresses, furniture, even flowers when she asked. But he was so reserved, disappearing into his study when they weren’t together.

“How will he take it,” she whispered, and Edward only shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d said. “But he has to know.”

So it had been three days ago, now, that she’d told Carlisle. And the gentle doctor had listened, and nodded, and gently touched her shoulder. She’d cried, the heaving tearless sobs that were now the mark of her new existence. And he’d comforted her, squeezing her shoulder, even stroking her cheek. When she felt calm, and he was certain of her security, he announced he was going to take a walk and disappeared for several hours.

And that had been that, she thought. He listened, and he absorbed her story, and it was one more thing about her that he simply took as part of her. She was grateful for the acceptance, pleased with the quiet way he’d accepted it. But it unraveled in the days after. The blond doctor withdrew. He stopped talking to her. Stopped touching her shoulder in the affectionate way he’d begun to before she’d given him the information. When she entered a room he flinched, looking away.

She felt…afraid of him, which seemed so uncharacteristic for Carlisle, the gentle man she’d met ten years ago and who had given her no reason to doubt him now. So she followed him here, to his study, where he had warmly invited her to join him anytime. He stood at once, began pacing, making her wonder if her presence was unwelcome.

He was so obviously upset.

“You’re angry with me,” she said quietly, and he became perfectly still at once. It was an eerie stillness, a stillness she was still getting used to. Carlisle was so good at human habits, and Edward only slightly less so, that when they stopped moving in the way their kind were able to, a perfect cessation of motion, not breathing, not so much as twitching—it still took her by surprise.

He shook his head. “I’m not angry with you.”

“You’ve stopped touching me.” Because she was undesirable? She supposed she deserved that.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed. “Have I?”

She nodded.

“I didn’t realize.” He came to her side, seated himself on the arm of the chair. He took her hand, placing it between both of his and caressing her knuckles.

“You’re angry.”

And in a flash, he was on the other side of the room, his back against the wall.

She swallowed. This much was right. “You’re angry,” she repeated.

He shook his head. “Not with you, Esme. Never with you.”

“But you’re angry.”

He nodded, slowly, standing back up, dropping her hand and thrusting his hands into his hair. They clutched at the golden locks, squeezing frantically, intermittently as he began to pace again.

“I just… What beasts are we, men? To do this? I stopped touching you because I can’t bear the thought that my hands might feel like—”

“You could never be him,” she said quietly.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.”

She shrank back into the chair, one of two luxurious ones he had installed in his study. For what reason, she suddenly wondered. Edward didn’t need to sit, and neither did she. Carlisle was so perfect in his charade, in the nearly three centuries of masking himself as a human, that he rarely missed these finer details which so easily could go unnoticed.

What did he mean? At once, her former husband’s face materialized in her mind. Already, as Edward and Carlisle told her it would, his visage was growing dimmer, less distinct, as though he were in a dream. He was becoming a faceless demon; her only memory his hands and his voice. But the memory of his fist was crystal clear…

Downstairs, the piano abruptly stopped.

“You could never be him,” she repeated.

And he whirled. His eyes, the glorious amber eyes she loved, flashed dark. When he spoke, his voice was high pitched and rapid. “Do you know that, Esme? Do you know that I could somehow not be him? That I don’t have it within me to hurt someone? Are you certain? Because I want to hurt him.”

The shock of his words made her flinch, and he didn’t miss it. His body lost a little of its tension. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the fist she didn’t realize he’d balled—did he know he’d done it?—released itself back flat.

“I want to hurt him so badly,” he choked. “That’s why I couldn’t be near you. I can’t let you see me this way.” His hand opened and closed again, as though it couldn’t decide what to do.

She shrank back. “Please,” she felt herself saying, and the words were old. She didn’t mean to be begging Carlisle, of all people, but the begging felt familiar. “Please don’t. Don’t be upset.”

“Esme, of course I’m upset!” he bellowed. “I love you!”

He stopped suddenly, swallowed, and staggered several steps backward

“You…” she tried to repeat the words but found they didn’t make sense.

Carlisle seemed just as surprised as he repeated the words. “I…love you.”

Esme didn’t think about what she did next. Charles had said those words to her, what? Once? Maybe twice? Enough that they were already fading? She still wasn’t used to the way her new body moved, to the fact that as Carlisle protested, she was stronger than he was, and would be for a good while. When she shoved him against the desk, it creaked and groaned under their combined weight; when she straddled him and pressed her hands against his jaw.

“I love you,” he groaned again into her lips. The desk protested further.

“I love you,” she repeated.

He placed his hands on her face, pulling her back from him so that she could look into his eyes. They were the orange gold, partway between when he’d hunted recently and when he would need to hunt immediately. She knew, now, after watching for weeks, how his eyes went from the flaxen gold, to the light yellow, to the darkness of old honeycomb before he set out to hunt again. Now they were just the right yellow; the pale color of the corona of the flower she had planted in the cold garden, weeks late.

And as she pressed her lips to his again, she realized that perhaps her daffodils had bloomed on St. David’s Day, after all.

#carlisle cullen #esme cullen #tw: domestic violence #fanfiction #twilight

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jobrookekarev · 3 years

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One Step Forward and Three Steps Back: Chapter Two

Chapter Two of Six

Words: 1421

Summary: Jo wants to marry Alex more than anything, there’s just a few hoops she has to jump through before she can make that a reality. When she finally takes the plunge to free herself from her past, it all comes back to haunt her.

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy.

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson, Jo Wilson/Paul Stadler (Past).

Characters: Alex Karev, Jo Wilson, Stephanie Edwards, and Paul Stadler.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences,

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Physical Abuse, Domestic Abuse, Assault.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: I know it's a few days late and I did have this written before, I haven't felt well enough to post it until today. Still enjoy.

TW: Assault and abuse.

……………………………………………………………………

“Hello, Brooke.”

Jo froze at the sound of his icy voice. It was Paul. He was standing there in her doorway looking as terrifying as he always did, with that horrible smirk on his face. It was then that Jo realized what she had done by trying to divorce him. She had given him her address in the voicemail, and she didn't know why, she thought he wouldn't come straight there.

Paul took a step forward and Jo took a step back. He looked around the loft. It was empty, there was no one there and Stephanie would never hear them as she kept sleeping.

“You know I always wondered where you were. Whether you had gone to another state or even another country and here you are. Then you call me the weekend that I'm in Seattle too. How funny is that?”

Paul walked forward, and Jo stepped back until she ran into the shelves, but Paul continued to walk towards her until he was pressed up against her and towering over her.

“I told everyone back in Orlando that you had run off with some guy you were cheating on me with. I told everyone that you were probably dead in a ditch somewhere, and now you finally will be.”

Before Jo could even scream, he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed. He pushed her down until she fell on the floor. He fell on top of her and pressed his knee into her chest. Jo gripped his arms, desperately trying to force his hands off of her throat as she gasped for breath.

Jo scratched at his forearms trying to get away, but he was dressed in one of his expensive suits, and her nails just caught fabric. She reached for his face and scratched his cheek enough to draw blood. Paul didn't even react, he just squeezed harder and harder, pushing his thumbs into her throat.

She kicked her legs as she tried desperately to get Stephanie's attention. She looked around frantically and saw the crates with the plants on them. Jo moved her leg and kicked the boxes, it tipped over as the plant crashed to the floor. She prayed that Stephanie heard it. Jo kept kicking and pulling at his hands, desperate to try anything, but he just kept squeezing harder, and she couldn't breathe.

Suddenly someone's fist collided with Paul's cheek, and he fell back, letting go of her neck and falling off of her. Alex picked up Paul by his lapel and stood over him as he punched him again and again. Jo tried to turn to watch them, but despite how his hand had left her neck, she still couldn't breathe. Jo scratched at her neck, desperate to try and do anything, but all she could do was keep kicking.

“Jo, Jo, oh my god,” Stephanie said, as she appeared above her frantically looking between Jo and Alex and Paul. “What the hell?”

……………………………………………………………………

Stephanie was still in shock at the sight before her. Alex was hitting some guy in a suit who up until two seconds ago was on top of her best friend choking her. Jo laid on the floor, her neck was black and blue as she gasped and grabbed at her throat, trying to breathe.

Suddenly Stephanie went from friend to doctor and quickly assessed Jo's injuries. Jo's breathing was most urgent, and Stephanie ran her fingers along her neck to feel where her trachea was dipped and caved in.

“Alex! Alex!” Stephanie screamed, looking up to see that he was still hitting the man. As much as she wanted to let him keep hitting him, she needed his help. Alex looked up for a brief second looking back at her and Jo. “Get the med bag now!”

“Yeah,” Alex just nodded and ran over to the cabinet where they kept their supplies.

Stephanie tipped Jo's head back and looked down her throat. Jo was still gasping for air and she had stopped kicking as her lips turned blue. Stephanie knew that if she didn't do something fast, Jo would asphyxiate. Alex came sliding in next to her on his knees with the bag next to him, and Stephanie opened it up, rifling through it until she found an intubation tube and the laryngoscope.

Alex took over holding her chin, and Stephanie inserted the laryngoscope and looked down Jo's throat. She could barely see anything with how swollen it was, but she managed to pass the tube down her throat and inflate the cuff. As soon as she pulled the laryngoscope back, leaving just the tube, Jo took a deep breath. Stephanie let out a breath of relief as Jo started breathing again and began to pink up.

“Oh God, Jo,” Alex cried out, petting her hair as he leaned down he pressed his forehead against hers. Jo looked up at Alex as tears streamed down the corners of her eyes.

Alex had his phone up to his ear and Stephanie took it from him as he dropped it. She put it up to her ear and listened as the 911 dispatcher. Alex hadn't been able to tell them much of anything, so Stephanie explained what had happened and gave them the address as a dispatcher told her that the cops and two ambulances were on their way.

Stephanie looked over at Jo again, she looked at the dark bruising around her neck and prayed her carotid arteries were still intact and delivering blood to her brain. She moved her hands to feel for her pulse on each side, it was slow on the left side, but the right side was strong, and she reached in the bags for the collar and put it around Jo's neck. Although she was kicking and turning her head earlier, Stephanie didn't want to take any chances. Jo laid as still as she could, but Stephanie knew she was in a great deal of pain and wished she could put Jo under.

Alex started an IV and held up the bag before Stephanie rifled through it to see what other kinds of drugs they had. There was ibuprofen and acetaminophen, but nothing liquid. Stephanie then looked down at Jo’s chest where he was sitting on her and undid her shirt to reveal a dark bruise in the middle of her chest. Stephanie ran her fingers over it, assessing the injury, but the dark bruises were all she found, and she sighed in relief that Jo’s sternum and ribs weren’t broken. She grabbed the stethoscope and listened to Jo’s heart and lungs. Her breathing and heart sounded good and Stephanie sat back on her heels.

With Jo not dying in her arms, Stephanie took a moment to look around the loft. The door was open and the stack of crates was tipped over as the potted plant was a mess on the floor. The man that had attacked her was lying unconscious by the door.

“Who the hell is he?” Stephanie asked, looking over at him.

Jo moaned, but the tube in her throat made it impossible for her to talk. Alex picked up his head and Stephanie turned to look at her.

“Sh, Jo, don't try and talk,” Alex said, running his fingers over her forehead.

Jo moaned again, her eyes darting over to the man.

“Jo, do you know him?” Stephanie asked, looking down at her before she gleaned back at the man.

Jo squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them again.

“Yes, you know him?” Stephanie asked, putting one hand on Jo’s cheek and brushing away her tears that hadn’t stopped falling.

“Who is he?” Alex asked, glancing over at him again.

“Oh my God,” Stephanie said, looking over at him. Everything that Jo had told her earlier about her divorce and her abusive husband suddenly clicked. “Jo, is he the guy, is he the guy you left?”

Jo squeezed her eyes shut before she opened them, telling Stephanie yes. Black tears fell from the corner of her eyes as her mascara darkened her tears.

“What's going on?” Alex asked, looking between the two of them. “Who is he?”

Stephanie paused, staring at him, she didn't want to reveal Jo’s secret, but she knew it would all come out eventually. Jo reached out and grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tightly. Stephanie looked down to see Jo squeeze her eyes shut once in a yes. Unfortunately, Stephanie didn't get the chance to tell Alex anything as the paramedics arrived.

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #stephanie edwards #paul stadler #otp: home and heart #grey's anatomy fanfic #jolex fanfic #my work #my writing #my fanfiction #tw: assault #OSFaTSB

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reddie-fangirl24 · 3 years

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The Wedding Date (A Reddie Crossover)

This was a commission from @memory-vacant. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR COMMISSION! I hope you enjoy the story.

Richie could not believe it. His little sister was married. After a moment of hesitation on whether or not she was ready to get married, Richie convinced her - with help from Eddie luckily. To think this morning Richie sought nothing about love. And yet in so little time he actually felt like he was falling for Eddie.

All this was supposed to be a facade so he’d get his sister to stop nagging him. But as he was holding Eddie’s hand throughout the entire ceremony, Richie slowly crawled back into that annoying turtle shell of his and shoved his hands inside his pockets.

To get away from all the festivities for a bit, Eddie and Richie explored the house. Eddie liked to talk. The moment he showed up he was blabbing his ear off. At first, Richie didn’t pay much attention to him, but upon listening to him talk more about his overbearing mother and this awful woman, Myra he was set to marry, Richie felt bad for him. For most of his life, Richie was alone. Despite being with someone, Eddie felt alone, too.

Finally, they showed up in his parent’s bedroom. Richie would have taken Eddie to his old bedroom but his parents turned it into a regular guest bedroom since he moved out when he was eighteen. He wondered what Eddie would have thought of all the posters of comedians that he had on the walls along with the wacky wallpaper design he chose.

If he was lucky, maybe he could get him to come back to his apartment. What? In L.A?? They were in Maine, and Eddie lived in New York. That was only in his dreams.

Just like that, they flopped down on the bed in humorous positions. Weddings were exhausting.

For a few minutes, neither spoke, each dwelling in their own thoughts. Richie wondered if Eddie was aware of how close they were to cuddling. He wasn’t used to physical affection like a simple pat on the back. Just the thought of cuddling up with Eddie right now made Richie’s heart race. Did all this really have to end in a half-hour when he and Stanley would get in the car and drive away - back to L.A., the other side of the country?

“I feel like I have been talking the whole time,” Eddie said, interrupting the silence.

“Huh? What?” Richie asked coming out of his thoughts. He’d been staring at a crack on the ceiling. How long had that been there for?

Eddie turned so he could face him more. There was that sad look in his eyes once again. It was oh so reminiscent of looking at himself in the mirror.

“I feel like I barely know you.”

“What? My boisterous attitude wasn’t enough?” Richie joked, propping himself up on the bed with one elbow.

Eddie stared into his eyes, searching for answers as time was running out. “Tell me fun facts about you.”

“Uh... well, I’m a comedian.”

“I can tell.”

“No, I mean that I am an actual comedian!”

“Like that’s not obvious, I’ve seen you on TV,” Eddie told him, scoffing.

Richie raised his eyebrow, surprised. “You have? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about that. I like your work.”

Feeling his insides explode from cuteness overload, Richie felt humbled by the compliment. He always worried that he wasn’t doing something right like other comedians. But they all had their own technique, right?

“Do you have any more fun facts about yourself, or you just boring?” Eddie asked with a smirk. He could just feel his warm breath in his face. Sarcasm was their main language. He never thought he would meet someone who shared that in common with him.

“I’m allergic to fabric softener.”

Eddie’s eyes bulged. “What?! Then why are we sitting here? You need to get off the bed before your throat closes up and then you pass out and then we have to take you -”

“Hey, Eds, calm down! I was just messing with you!” Richie told him, waving a handout. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. His breathing was rapid. Eddie took out his inhaler and took a puff.

Richie creased his eyebrow at him. Although Eddie told him that he had asthma, there was something strange about that. The way he choked on his breath reminded him of when he’d get overwhelmed. Eddie never needed the inhaler when he ran. It was only when he was startled.

Not amused at all, Eddie’s whole face flushed red. “You should never joke about medical allergies, Richie!”

“Gee, I know that know,” Richie lightly rolled his eyes.

“You are so infuriating!” Eddie crossed his arms, sulking.

“Well, that’s another fact about me!” Richie laughed. Sensing that he ruined the moment because Eddie had his back to him, he mellowed down. “I’m sorry.”

“Really?”

“I don’t like it when people are mad at me,” Richie told him sincerely, lightly placing his hand on his shoulder.

Eddie turned around, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Seriously? ‘Cause that’s kind of a part of your nature as a comedian.”

“Hey, who says I’m like everyone else? I like to have quiet time whenever I get the chance.”

“You? Quiet time?” Eddie snorted. Embarrassed, his cheeks went red. Richie laughed at the sound, making Eddie join in.

“What’s so funny about that?” he smirked at him as he continued to giggle.

“Because you, Richie Tozier, I cannot see you having a quiet moment in your life!” Eddie poked him in the shoulder. Here’s the side of Eddie that Richie liked. That side was kept repressed. He was fighting to escape so he could live the life that he always wanted. Then again, what was he thinking?

“What do you do on nights you have to yourself?” Eddie asked intrigued, crossing his legs on the bed. Faintly, Richie could hear voices from downstairs. His sister was very excited, laughing. It was his sisters day. Let her have all the attention. He didn’t want to miss her going off in that limo with her new husband.

“I like to cook pasta and sit on my deck,” Richie explained. “Sometimes I think up routines, I read...”

“You read?” Eddie beamed.

“No, Edward Spaghetti, I tare out the pages and throw them to the birds! ‘Course I read!”

“Don’t you fucking call me that!” Eddie warned, though the threat was ruined by a smile.

“I’ve been calling you that and Eds all day. Admit it, you like it!”

They laughed for a bit. This was the most Richie laughed for some time. He felt this feeling that he couldn’t come up with the words to describe it. Yes, he was happy. But his insides felt warm.

Feeling something buzz, Eddie checked his phone. His smile immediately faded. “My ride is going to be here in about fifteen minutes.”

And just like that, Richie’s heart fell into his stomach. He didn’t want this day to end. For some reason, he felt like all this was meant to happen. His sister always said that which annoyed him. All he wanted was to see him happy. She understood him better than their parents, well mainly his dad. But maybe this time he shouldn’t let this opportunity go.

“Eddie,” Richie said, using Eddie’s real name instead of a nickname for the first time that day. Even Eddie was surprised. Feeling his mouth dry up, Richie’s stomach turned. Great, the nerves were going to mess this up for him. “... Do you have to go?”

“Well, yeah, I have to catch the train,” he said, his nose turning up at the thought.

Spotting his hand right there on the bed, Richie touched it. The touch caught Eddie’s attention. He was a bit alarmed. But he didn’t take his hand away.

“What if you didn’t go back?”

“Richie, I have a life in New York. And... I’m engaged.”

“To some woman who you don’t want to marry,” Richie pointed out.

Eddie looked like he was going to disagree, but he was quiet. “It’s not that simple.”

Okay, here it goes. “I think I’d miss you even if we never met.”

The other man was touched by the comment, holding his hand a little tighter. “Aw, Rich. I hate to say it, but me too.”

Feeling a magnet drawing them in, they stared into one anothers eyes, at how close they were to touching. Eddie’s breath was enough to make him go wild. None of them knew who started the fierce makeout session, but they dove into the bed in a matter of seconds with Richie lying on top of Eddie. His lips were soft, like a pillow as Richie planted kisses all around his face. Their tongues mixed around in delight as Eddie wrapped his hand around Richie’s neck, pulling him closer.

As they moaned and kissed more Richie stopped when his hand was about to loosen Eddie’s belt buckle. Time stopped. No, he wasn’t... realizing that he was in the awful town he grew up in, Richie panicked jumping away from the bed.

Eddie was alarmed too, finally realizing what had happened. He was so lost in the moment. This never happened. But he was more concerned about Richie. “Are you okay?”

Nervously tangling his fingers through his hair, Richie didn’t look at him. “Y-You’re right.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked trying to reach out and touch him. He was scared that it was him. Myra was not interested in a sexual relationship. But he wanted one. And this... it felt right.

Trying to fix himself up as best as he could, including his wild hair, Richie raced to the door leading out of the bedroom. Don’t look up at him, Richie told himself feeling his heart cracking in two.

“You’re right. You do have a life,” he uttered brokenly.

Going to argue with him, that was true. What would his mother think of him cheating. On a man. And he could never do that to her. But all of this felt so right. Like it was meant to be.

Richie opened the door and left. “Nice meeting you, Eddie.”

#reddie #it chapter 2 #it movie #commission #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #the wedding date #crossover

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salty-ironstrange-shipper · 4 years

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Don’t Lift The Veil

*kind of based on this post you might remember, also on ao3

Stephen stumbled into Kamar-Taj, only narrowly avoiding breaking his skull on the floor by an apprentice sorcerer lurching forward and taking his arm.

"Master Strange?" The girl said, then, more anxiously, "Master Strange?!"

April, Stephen thought to himself, placing the voice. He tried to reassure her, but instead made an odd choking sound and blacked out. Oh well . . .

When he woke again, April was still there, only there was a Master of the Mystic Arts who specialized in healing magic beside her and they were in Stephen's bedroom.

April dabbed at Stephen's forehead with a warm towel. No one was sure if that was necessary, but it seemed the thing to do. "Are you alright, Master Strange?"

Stephen tried to sit up and bit back a scream when doing so put pressure on the stab wound in his stomach. "More or less."

April lightly pushed him back down on the bed. "Sir," she said gently, like she was speaking to a child, "you should rest now. You were badly hurt."

Stephen dropped his head on the pillow, sulking. "I don't want to rest. I am the Sorcerer Supreme, I can do what I want."

"Of course you can," April cooed.

Stephen scowled, waving away the healer. Still, April refused to leave, sitting on the bed beside his knees with her legs crossed.

Stephen sighed, but didn't send her away. Perhaps he was getting soft in his old age (a thousand years was a long time even for a sorcerer), but in truth it was a weakness he had towards some of the young sorcerers. April in particular was dear to him, being the descendant of dear Peter. More than forty generations separated her from Spider-Man, but he allowed himself to believe that he could see a bit of the wide-eyed teen he once knew in her.

Just as he was getting melancholy, April started bouncing her legs, bored. Ah, there it is. "Are you alright, April?"

". . . Yes."

It was going to be a long day.

|||

April refused to relent, and Stephen refused to sleep. Now at a stalemate, they passed the time by playing card games and idly chatting.

April placed her card. "Skip you, I go again. The color is red, and you draw four."

"Fuck," Stephen muttered before succumbing to the will of the Uno cards.

April smirked, looking down at her own cards. "Hey, Master Strange, have you always been a sorcerer?"

Stephen was old enough that none of the living sorcerers had been there when he first came to Kathmandu. Long before April's time and after Tony's death nine hundred years ago, all the information about who Doctor Stephen Strange had been was lost. Or destroyed, rather. Now few even knew who he'd been before becoming Sorcerer Supreme, and for the most part he preferred it that way. Any immortal could tell you that memories were the enemy.

So he wasn't quite sure why he said, "No."

April quirked a brow. "Where did you come from?"

He hesitated before answering. “Before I came to Kamar-Taj, I lived in New York with my husband.” He shrugged. “Fiance, at the time.”

April stared at him, wide-eyed. “Oh my God — Master Strange, I had no idea you were married—”

“Widowed now,” Stephen said quietly before laying down another card.

April blinked, her cheeks heating and turning red. “I’m . . . I’m sorry—”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who brought it up.” He frowned. “There really is no point of a Reverse card if you’re just playing with two people.”

They played in awkward silence for another minute before April asked, “Do you want to talk about it? Or, him, I guess?”

Then the strangest thing happened.

Stephen smiled.

“I could tell you everything about him. Who he was, how we met. The color of his eyes and the shape of his nose. I can see him right in front of me. He is more real to me than you.”

His smile was sad, and his blue-green eyes seemed to lose their light. He laid another card, and when he spoke again, this time about an envoy that needed to be sent to the Nat'hal dimension, it was clear that the conversation was over.

But April was never one to give up so easily. It was in her blood. She was ninety percent sure she was descended from Superheroes (considering her family bad the right Peter Parker in their tree and not some rando from the same time).

She spent over a week going through everything she could find about their current Sorcerer Supreme. It wasn't easy. He was a private person even by hero standards, and had been born roughly a thousand years ago. But that was right at the start of the information age, and though it meant sorting through piles of white noise and conspiracy theorist bullshit, she was able to find some old interviews and articles from around his time that referenced a Stephen Strange . . . and his husband, Tony Stark.

That was the most surprising part. Even children knew who Iron Man was, one of Earth's first and greatest protectors, who lost an arm bringing half the universe back to life and defeating the Mad Titan Thanos.

But if they knew each other, why doesn't Strange ever mention him?

If her theory was correct, then they hadn't just known each other - they'd loved each other, and had been married for almost fifty years (longer, if you counted the time Strange apparently lost to Thanos). They had children together. The memory must have been painful to him, living so long without his beloved, forced to remain on Earth and carry out his duties as Sorcerer Supreme.

Oh, Stephen . . . She'd always known that their leader carried a heavy burden, but she had no idea he'd lost so much. She wanted to do something, anything to help him . . .

And she had just the idea.

“Okay,” April said, placing the last candle and looking back at her book. “This . . . should probably work.”

There were a few days when the veils between dimensions were thin. The winter solstice was one such time. The borders had only grown weaker after centuries of attacks from aliens and other-worldly beings and. The perfect time for such a spell.

April sat in the circle of candles and crossed her legs. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, her third eye opened too, and the silvery light of Oshtur poured forth into the room. She could see the dimensions laid over each other, and the things that lingered nearby. Some of them seemed almost familiar.

Her mouth moved almost unbidden as she spoke. “Oshtur Star-Eye, Mother of Agamotto, guide to sorcerors living and dead, I call upon you to find the soul I seek and lead it to me—” Her breath caught as the spirits started to take shape. Away and above Kamar-Taj, she could feel Oshtur looking upon her. “Bring me Anthony Edward Stark, Iron Man, Saviour of the Universe and Earth’s Defender, husband to the Sorcerer Supreme Stephen Strange, lead him here and show him to me—”

Suddenly she fell forward, the spell cut short as a breeze filled the room snuffing out all the candles. A moment later, Stephen Strange walked into her vision, knocking over the candles and using his heel to disrupt the chalk circle. When he looked at her, she flinched from his gaze. “What are you doing?!”

April shook her head, the movement slow and heavy. “I don’t . . . I . . .”

“It is the solstice, the walls between worlds are thin and weak, all sorts of things linger in the liminal spaces, waiting to break through! You didn’t even ward or purify this room, you could have invited any number of monsters and specters into this sacred place! What were you thinking, what were you even trying to do?!”

April frowned, fearing tears prickle at her eyes. “I was just . . . I was trying to find Tony for you . . .”

Stephen stared at her in shocked silence as April’s head dropped, tears streaming down her cheeks. Then he leaned down and wiped a tear away, his voice growing soft. “Go to sleep. The spell exhausted you. We’ll speak tomorrow.”

She could do nothing but obey.

The next morning, April awoke to find Stephen already in her room, meditating on a mat in the corner. He opened his eyes when she saw him. “You’re awake.”

April nodded, yawning tiredly. “What, uh . . . what happened?”

Stephen uncrossed his legs, resting his chin on one hand. Even after all this time, it was still scarred and shaking. “You attempted to summon my husband from beyond the grave, and I stopped you.”

“Oh, that sounds about right.” She frowned. “Why did you stop me?”

Stephen considered it for a moment, his blue-green eyes showing nothing. “It’s quite insulting that you think I don’t know how to summon a soul. I’ve read every book here, know every spell. I can summon ghosts as easily as most people can snap.”

“Then why . . .”

Stephen shrugged. “I did. I admit now that I wasn’t always careful. I made the same mistakes as you. But twice a year for about a century, Tony and I met and were together. And that seemed like everything that mattered.” He looked away. “But we couldn’t keep going like that. It was worse than have each other for a moment and be wrenched away again than to never see each other. And it disturbed his rest, and there’s no one who deserves to rest more than Tony.”

Despite herself, April knew she was crying again. “I’m so sorry.”

Stephen smiled sadly. “So am I.” He stood up. “But I know that one day, in my time of greatest need, Tony and I will find each other again. He’s always there for me when I need him. That will have to be enough for now.” He walked to the door, opening it slightly. “I’ll see you in my class on defensive magic later, yes?”

She swallowed past the weight in her throat. “Promise.”

Stephen nodded once and left, closing the door behind him.

#incorrect-ironstrange #ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #fanfiction #ironstrange fanfiction #ironstrange fic #don't lift the veil #from the top #sad #angst #i made myself sad #tony stark death tw #my writing #my fanfiction

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paullahotes · 4 years

Text

Incalescent- Chapter Five

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!OC

Summary: Em just wants to be loved and have a family for once in her life. But nothing has ever gone right in her life before so why should it now?

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: so there’s more kissing, people get their feelings hurt, confrontation, slight violence, new vampire abilities ;)

A/N: Listen, I don’t think I’m a good writer so this could be terrible! Let me know what you guys think of it!

My mind was made up, I had to tell the wolves tonight or it would be too late. It was Friday and the school day was coming to an end. I had waited a couple days, way longer than I should’ve waited, to tell them. They probably needed more than a day's notice to prepare. I thought I had made up my mind the second I heard that Victoria was coming to town but I was hesitant to see Paul, or any of them because my father might find out.

What made me realize I had to finally tell them was the text I got from Paul during lunchtime, practically begging me to tell him what he did to make me ignore him for a couple days. He was rightfully confused, everything had been going great before my father called. Paul and I felt like we were easing into something comfortable. Then I suddenly started ignoring him and telling him not to come over.

He had sent several texts over the last few days. All of them are harder to read than the last. I wanted to reply and tell him to come over but if my dad found out I didn’t know what he would do. I didn’t know who his friend was or if they were dangerous and I couldn’t risk Paul’s life.

Em, please let me see you today. It’s been a couple days and I’m worried about you. Please tell me if I did anything wrong, I’ll fix it!

I thought we were going really well, we can slow down if that’s what you need.

Em, please talk to me.

I was almost crying in the middle of class as I tapped my pencil impatiently on my notebook. Edward and Bella sat in front of me and I stopped tapping my pencil when I realized it was bothering them, though neither said anything. Bella kept turning around slightly to look at me, I’m sure she saw the tears ready to spill over. She didn’t say anything but gave me one of those ‘I’m sorry but I don’t know what to do’ smiles. It comforted me in a way, enough to dry up the tears and get through class.

Thankfully I had made no friends at this school, so I had no one to loiter around the parking lot with, once school let out. I was free to jump into my car and speed off. Going home was my first thought but if I drove out to Emily’s house on the reservation then I wouldn’t risk anyone running into my on the way there or back.

It felt wrong to be doing things like this, sneakily trying to avoid the people that seemed to care about me, as much as possible. In my mind there was no other way, this was me protecting them from whatever my father had planned if I didn’t stop seeing them. Tears welled up in my eyes again as I thought about anything happening to them. They had become my friends, some of them had felt like they were becoming actual family. My gut always told me not to let it get that far because I knew it wouldn’t turn out well and I had been right.

As the tears spilled down my face the sky began to pour. There was no thunder or lightning, only rain and gloom. My mood matched the weather, which was always the case. Looking at the wet road as I drove I began to realize this is how I always felt. I felt like a dark grey, cloudy sky that was always ready to burst from how achingly hopeless I felt.

Spending time with Emily, Leah and the rest of the pack made me feel like the clouds had started to move on and make room for the sun to come out. For as long as I can remember I always associated everything in my life to the weather. When I was little, long before my dad let me leave the house and go to school, I would draw bright, colorful pictures of the sun. Some stupid part of me had always held onto the hope that one day I would see the sun, a metaphor I guess, for the happiness and warmth I always craved from my father.

Even with my dad out of town there was always some doubt in the back of my mind that told me even though I felt like the sun was finally about to shine through, that I shouldn’t believe it. He would never let me be happy on my own and I just needed to suck it up and get used to that.

Emily’s house was coming into view and I could hear the low murmur of voices from inside. The amount of voice I could make out made me realize that the whole pack must be here. I could faintly smell something sweet as I opened my car door. Emily must have baked something, which would be the reason everyone showed up. She was a talented baker, no one could resist.

Paul was on the porch before I could even take two steps. He looked like he had been through hell. His face wasn’t clean shaven and his clothes looked like they hadn’t been changed since I saw him last. His eyes brightened as he looked at me but he stayed back, not knowing what to do.

“It’s good to see you,” he whispered softly as I got closer. He seemed to be unable to stop himself as he came down the stairs and grabbed me. One of his hands went to my face, his thumb rubbing across my jawline. His other hand pushed my hair back, away from my face. His eyes searched my face frantically for some sign of what was going on.

“I only came here because I have information that the pack needs,” my words hit him hard. He let go of me like touching me was hurting him. He stepped back and whispered ‘only’ to himself, repeating the words I had used to make it clear that I wasn’t here for anything else.

“It’s your father, isn’t it?” He asked after he had taken a moment to think. “He’s back isn’t he? That’s where the car came from? You know you don’t have to listen to him, you don’t have to follow his lead.”

“He’s not back,” I croaked out, trying not to cry. This was the last thing I wanted and the reason I waited so long to come here. I cleared my throat, swallowing back the tears. I didn’t dare look at Paul right now so I just walked past him and up the stairs.

When I walked in it had been clear they were listening to our exchange. Everyone was silent, Embry and Quil quickly turned around as I looked around the room and took bites of the muffins they were eating. Jacob was sitting on the couch, his gaze unwavering as he looked at me with anger in his eyes. Sam was standing behind the kitchen counter with Emily, both of them looking upset.

“Sam, I have some information about Victoria,” he looked taken aback by what I said. He rounded the counter quickly to come and stand in front of me.

“What is it?” he asked, his arms crossed in front of his chest. I heard Paul walk into the house behind me. His breathing was erratic like he had been crying or running a marathon.

“I overheard Alice Cullen telling Edward and Bella that she was coming back this weekend. They’re sending Bella away to her mom’s in Florida just in case, so I’m assuming whatever Alice saw was bad,” I explained, now I had everyone’s attention. Even Jacob who looked like he wanted to choke me to death when I walked in was now standing and listening carefully.

“Did she mention where Victoria would be?” Leah asked, pulling my attention toward her. I hadn’t noticed her earlier, sitting on the stairs behind the couch. She was peeking through the railing, watching me.

“No but I’m sure it won’t be hard to find out. Wherever we pick up the Cullen’s scent is where she’ll be,” before I could finish, Paul was pulling me back. He looked angry now, no more hurt on his face.

“We?” he asked, his voice sounding sharp in my ears. He had been crying by the red, puffy circles around his eyes. “You will be nowhere near where Victoria is, you could get hurt.”

“You’ll need all the help you can get. She’s dangerous and her special ability is evading capture,” I reasoned but the look in his eyes didn’t waver. There would be no changing his mind on this. The intensity of the look made me recoil, my senses telling me I should be afraid. My father had always given me this look whenever I made him mad or when he didn’t want me to do something.

“Em, I’m telling you no,” his face got closer to mine. Using all my strength I shoved him away from me with the arm he wasn’t holding. Paul was expecting it so he didn’t stumble too far but he did let go of me and that’s what I wanted. With everyone looking at me I began to feel even more defensive. I felt like I was backed into a corner and being bossed around like a little kid.

“No one’s going to tell me what to do. I’m going to help you whether you like it or not. Once we capture and kill her I will leave all of you alone, forever. I’m just sorry that I didn’t leave you alone to begin with,” I was barely able to get out the last part but I needed them to know I wasn’t going to be around anymore. Paul looked hurt at what I said. He opened his mouth a few times to try and say something to me but he couldn’t get anything out. He looked utterly lost and defeated, his eyes were filling up with tears again.

Emily was making her way to me from the kitchen but I didn’t want to hear anything anyone said. I muttered ‘see you tomorrow night’ and ran back to my car. Paul followed behind me slowly, watching my every move. As I was pulling out of the driveway I saw the tears start to fall down his cheeks and Emily came out and wrapped an arm around him comfortingly.

My heart felt heavy in my chest as I drove home down the slippery roads. Rain pelted my car unforgivingly, the drops somehow fatter than the tears that spilled down my face as I thought about Paul and how much I was hurting him. This is what I get for going against my father's orders in the first place, I should’ve kept to myself like he said to.

My mind was racing the whole night. I laid in bed covering and uncovering, laying on my side and turning over to lay on the other. The tears were gone but my whole body ached. Nothing was comfortable. Anxiety filled my body with an electric current, pangs of pain hitting all over, taking my breath away.

I couldn’t tell what this was more from, Paul or the thought of Victoria being anywhere near me and the pack. She was dangerous and I didn’t want any of them to get hurt or worse. Images of her and her fiery red hair flashed in my mind. The dream I had had where she killed Paul creeping back in, making me sweat and want to scream. I muffled them with a pillow as I tried to force myself to sleep. I needed the rest so that I could be useful tomorrow night when she showed up.

They were already phased when I showed up in the woods after sunset. It had rained the whole day leaving a damp scent in the air. The ground was slick with mud, the boots on my feet sinking into the mud with each step. The trees dripped all around me, my senses were on high alert so I could hear every drop as it hit the ground.

The forest felt empty

The wolves acknowledged me as I approached them. A couple of them looked mad, a couple looked like they didn’t even want to know I was there and then there was Paul. He may have been in wolf form but his eyes said more than words ever could. My heart ached as I looked at him knowing I was hurting him the same way his mother had. I was evil and a monster. I deserved to hurt this much since I was hurting him so badly.

As I looked into his eyes I started to think about what Emily had told me earlier in the day. She had shown up to my house unannounced with a basket of breakfast ingredients. She didn’t take no for an answer, no one around here seemed to. She cooked my breakfast while giving me a lecture, though she said it wasn’t one.

“This is how Paul’s mom left them you know,” she told me. Her back was turned to me but I could feel the disapproval that was all over her face. She tried to keep her tone light and airy but it was laced with hurt and anger. She was chopping up some onions, the knife hitting the counter harsher than it should have. Each chop with the knife was another sign that was angry. Before I could respond she was speaking again.

“You didn’t even give him a chance. Paul is a really good guy who seriously cares about you and you’re going to throw it all away with no explanation?” she ranted. She was now throwing the onions into a hot pan, the sizzling sound that filled the kitchen seemed to calm her a bit. She moved onto whisking up some eggs, her rhythm almost faster than what I could do with my enhanced speed.

“Look, I know you haven’t known any of us for long but that shouldn’t make you run away when things are going good. I also know that you’ve never experienced what a real family is but we were willing to show you. You’ve not only hurt Paul’s feelings but you’ve hurt mine and Leah’s,” she chastised not looking at me. She had quickly poured the eggs into the pan and then turned around to look at me, her spatula pointing at me for emphasis.

“You don’t underst-”

“You can talk to any of us about anything. If this has anything to do with your father you need to let us know and we can protect you,” she told me, her eyes wide with sincerity. She was wrong they wouldn’t be able to protect me. My dad had somehow lived for over three-hundred years and that wasn’t an accident. He had known how to survive and though he never expressed I’m sure it meant killing a lot of people that wished to stop him.

“Paul’s mom left with no warning, you know,” she told me quietly, she was turned around now moving the eggs around the pan with her spatula. Her voice was solemn as she spoke again. “They can hear each other's thoughts when they’re in wolf for, you know. Sam tells me pretty much everything so I know how Paul really felt when his mom left him. They can also feel the feelings the others are having when they’re phased. Sam tells me that whenever Paul accidentally thinks of his mother leaving it feels like his heart is getting torn from his chest.”

I stayed silent as I listened to her. Paul had never talked to anyone, not even his father, about how he felt when his mom left. His dad had said he knew it affected Paul more than he had ever let on but I wondered if he knew it was to this extent.

My heart felt like it was being torn out of my chest as I pieced together what Emily was telling me. She was saying he felt the same way with me. The pain was to the same extent as when his own mother had randomly left him.

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad, I just want you to think about things.” Emily said as she placed a plate full of eggs in front of me. She put an english muffin on a napkin next to my plate with accompanying butter and her homemade jam. Her cooking was always delicious but I didn’t feel like eating right now. Emily must have seen the look on my face and assumed that I didn’t want to eat because she pushed the plate closer to me.

“You need to eat if you’re going to help the pack catch Victoria tonight. I don’t want anyone getting hurt,” she went quiet. She looked very concerned as she spoke about what was going to happen tonight, probably worried for Sam.

“Why did you tell me all of this?” I asked her before taking a reluctant bite of eggs. They were delicious as always, light and fluffy with a lot more flavor than I had ever had in an egg. She crossed her arms and leaned then on the island across from me, thinking before she spoke.

“There are factors at play here that Paul hasn’t told you about yet and it’s not my place to tell you what they are,” she abruptly went quiet and looked around the kitchen lost in thought again. There had been a part of me that knew there was more than meets the eye here but Paul had never gotten around to telling me. After the beach, where he promised he would explain everything to me, everything happened so fast and I started to ignore him.

“You must feel a strong pull to Paul, don’t you? I know you haven’t had much interaction outside of your father but you must feel that what you have with Paul is completely different and unique,” every word she said was right and it made me wonder what exactly it was that I didn’t know. It didn’t matter though because I had to stay away from them, for their safety. After tonight they wouldn’t hear from me again, no matter how I felt about Paul.

“It doesn’t matter, after tonight I just can’t be around any of you,” I told her as I stared down at my plate, not daring to make eye contact with her.

“Good luck, it’s not going to be that easy and I know you that you understand that,” those were the last words she spoke. She packed up the stuff she had brought and left me alone in my house with a plate of eggs that were getting unedibly cold.

Paul and I’s gaze broke as a couple more wolves walked into the patch of trees were hidden in. Apart from Paul, I didn’t know what anyone else looked like in their wolf form. Not being able to tell who was who made me uneasy. I didn’t know who was looking at me with hatred and who wasn’t.

One of the wolves that had just shown up broke apart from the group and walked over to me. This one was slightly smaller than the others. The fur was grey compared to Paul’s silver. The wolf shoved it’s huge face into mine, licking as it went. I knew right away that this was Leah, her eyes as a wolf matched her as when she was human.

I suddenly felt bad as we looked at each other. She was becoming one of my best friends and I loved talking to her. In a way she felt like a sister and had we been able to bond longer I’m sure I would have thought about her that way.

All the wolves gathered around me now, some whining here and there. Others were growling lowly and Sam, howled bringing them to order. I didn’t know what they were saying but I knew from the silence that they were all waiting to hear Victoria approaching.

“I’m gonna go to the top of one of the trees so I can see where the Cullen’s are and when I jump down and start running follow me because that’s the way Victoria will be heading,” I told Sam directly. He nodded and all the other wolves nodded too.

Climbing trees was easy for me, having spent most of my time at the tops of trees in the yards of the houses I had lived in. My father never bothered me when I did this, there was no harm in climbing trees since I wasn’t interacting with anyone. Branch by branch I climbed, the rough bark,not softened by the immense amount of rain, biting into my skin as I went as quickly as I could. Once I got there and perched myself in a good position, I could faintly make out the Cullen’s on the other side of the river.

Alice was standing in front of everyone with her eyes closed, concentrating hard. I wasn’t sure how her visions worked but I imagined she could see Victoria in some way and was waiting to see where she would show up. I didn’t strain too hard when I noticed that they were talking, not needing to hear them but only see them when they moved. There were more of them than I had imagined, minus Edward.

Next to Alice was a blonde male who was watching her intensely. His body positioned almost to defend her from whatever would possibly come their way. Behind them to the right was another blonde that looked like the first but this one was female, her hair braided intricately and she stood next to the biggest vampire I had ever come in contact with. To the left were two more vampires, the way they held themselves suggested that they were the leaders of the group.

All was quiet for a while, the only sound was the rain drops falling from the trees and the occasional gust of wind. The vampires had ceased talking, their eyes darting around the dark forest around them. The wolves below me weren’t making any noise either, just shuffling around anxious to get this over with.

Being still in a forest this cold was harsh. It was so cold my bones almost ached, my whole body feeling like icy water had been poured in. I vowed as my teeth started to chatter never to take for granted how cozy and warm my bed was.

A strong wind came making me lose my balance. With it my ears pricked up, a new sound popping up in my senses. Goosebumps began to cover my body and the hairs on my arms and neck stood on end. She’s here I thought to myself just as Alice sharply turned her head to the left.

“On your left!” Alice suddenly shouted loud enough for me to hear without much effort and they all took off up the river. I let myself fall from the tree landing gracefully on the forest floor. Wasting no time I took off running as fast as I could. Trees blurred by me and I heard the loud stomps of the wolves catching up. I kept myself hidden within the treeline so that the Cullen’s didn’t see me but the wolves moved out of the woods so they could see where Victoria was. Her red hair flashed between the trees as I ran.

Everything was happening so fast but little time was passing. As was the case whenever there was a fight between supernatural creatures who could move at ungodly speeds. A couple wolves passed by me, a blur of grey and silver fur letting me know Leah and Paul were ahead of me. Before I could process they were coming to a stop and turning around abruptly, almost running into me but I jumped into the air and ended up landing on Paul’s back.

This wasn’t where I wanted to be but since he was moving faster than I was it was the best place at the moment. He hurdled forward quickly, staying concealed in the treeline unlike before when he was front and center. I gasped as a fiery red blur flew by us, my nostrils flaring as I caught her scent that closely to us.

“C’mon Paul she’s right there. If you go faster I could probably get her!” I encouraged him and he sped up somehow. He was going so fast and harshly that the ground he stepped on was being pulled up and piles of dirt and grass were being flung with each move of his huge paws.

The wind whipped my hair back as we went. I gripped Paul’s fur tightly with one hand and started to lean forward and reach out with my other. She was right in front of us now, if only I could lean forward a little more. She was so close I could make out every detail of her clothing, from the tears in the shirt she wore under her jacket to the sewed up patches on her jeans. It didn’t make sense that she would wear tattered clothes like that when she could just steal some new ones.

She turned her head and snarled at us, her top lip curled above her overly sharp canines. She caught sight of me on Paul’s back, causing her eyes to almost pop out of her head but she composed herself quickly. I wondered briefly if she recognized me but that was fleeting. Victoria spun quickly, arms outstretched and threw me and Paul into the nearest tree. Having been on his back I hit the tree and somewhat cushioned him. We both landed to the ground with a thud. I felt his head nudging me to get up. Then without warning he gripped at my jacket with his teeth and yanked me up.

Paul was off as I regained my balance and I took off after him. Victoria was on the other side of the river now getting chased by the Cullen’s. The large vampire, who could’ve played defense in football back in his human life, was almost close enough to grab her. I saw her turn her head slightly and snarl at him like she had done to me and Paul and just as she was about to be grabbed by the large vampire she soared across the river coming back to our side.

I seized my opportunity and picked up my speed and ran after her. In my peripheral I saw the large vampire jump across the river after her and my jaw almost hit the forest floor. The treaty forbade any of the Cullen’s from coming onto their land and he was taking a huge chance doing so. There was an immediate response of deep throated growls from the pack.

Victoria was long gone when I turned my head back. I let out an angry shout, cursing myself for getting distracted with a treaty that doesn’t even apply to me. We should’ve been able to get her but her abilities proved to be very helpful for her. I was starting to think no one would ever catch her. As I spun around to go back and see what was happening between the vampires and the wolves I angrily kicked down the nearest tree to me. The snapping sound and the inevitable crash of it hitting the ground satisfied me and calmed me down a bit.

In front of the large vampire was a large silver wolf, snapping his large teeth at him and growling. They were both taking small steps toward each other. The other Cullen’s had gathered on the bank of the river as did the wolves on our side. The large vampire sent a chill up my spine when I thought of the damage he could do to Paul. Without thinking I launched myself out of the trees, kicking off the nearest one to propel me forward and jumped over the wolves. I felt an energy build up inside me, electric heat coursing through my veins. Just as I landed in front of Paul to face off with the large vampire lightning struck all around me.

It hit the rocks violently. Loud cracking sounds filled the air and chunks of the rocks went everywhere. The heat from the lightning hit my skin like a wave, knocking me backwards. Paul was still behind me and caught me before I could hit the rocks. The air was filled with smoke, some from the heat of the lightning the rest made up of particles from the rocks that the lightning had blown up.

As it settled I noticed all the Cullen’s faces, their jaws hanging open in shock. The large vampire was not in front of me anymore. He was just now standing up from up a pile of rock that had blown up and taken him with them. He looked more angry than shocked at what had transpired with the lightning.

“You’ve been hiding that you were a vampire this whole time,” Alice said in disbelief, her mouth turned into a frown when she was done speaking.

“Does it really matter?” I asked, my tone biting through the tension that hung in the air. No one said anything as the large vampire got back into a defensive position. He started to stalk back over as Paul growled harshly behind me.

It was like I couldn’t control my body as I raised my arm into the air, thunder erupting as it raised. Clenching my hand into a fist I brought my arm back down quickly. A bolt of lightning struck just in front of the large vampire, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t continue on, instead he turned and jumped up onto the bank with his family.

“You’ll fight me for coming onto your land while trying to get someone who’s an enemy to all of us but you’ll let this vampire on your land when she’s clearly a bigger threat than all of us,” the large vampire barked at us. I felt embarrassed at his words, nothing about me was a threat. Everything with the lightning had to be a coincidence. The energy was still flowing through me and that was something that I couldn’t ignore and explain away as a coincidence.

Another vampire came to the front. His blonde hair slicked back into a style older men usually wore, his face too young to match. It was clear from the way everyone took a step back for him that I had been right and he was one of their leaders.

“We’re sorry for crossing onto your land, it was never an intention of ours to do so,” he began, his tone that of a natural leader. His words flowed so peacefully over us that I instantly knew he wasn’t a threat and probably never would be. Sam made a gruff noise from the back of his throat in response. Alice and the large vampire turned and left followed by two blonde vampires who now that I was closer and could see better looked like they could be twins. The leader was left with a brunette vampire standing by his side. Her body language showed that she was his mate.

“I’m Carlisle and this is my wife, Esme,” he spoke quietly to me. The woman next to him smiled politely and then looked back at him waiting for the next move. “We didn’t know we had another vampire in town with such an exceptional gift.”

“I don’t have a gift,” my voice came out unsure. Esme and Carlisle exchanged a look before nodding at me. Neither of them looked like they accepted what I told them to be true.

“Regardless we would love to have you come visit us sometime if you want. There’s no harm in getting to know one another, especially when we clearly have the same enemy.” now he was the one that sounded unsure. My father had always told me to stay away from everyone, especially other vampires. He had specified red eyes but the vampires in front of me had bright golden ones like he had.

I stayed silent. I wasn’t going to say anything about going to see them when I was actively trying to stay away from the pack. But I also didn’t to be rude and provoke an attack. When they realized I wasn’t going to say anything they silently ran into the woods.

Sam howled from somewhere behind me, giving the order to vacate. My shirt was being pulled from behind me and suddenly I was off the ground, suspended in the air by Paul’s mouth.

“Please put me down, Paul,” he huffed out of his nose. A low growl came from the back of his throat when I tried to pull myself away. I crossed my arms over my chest as I hung in the air, unable to get out of the situation. If I really wanted to I could try harder but I didn’t want to upset him any more than I already had.

The walk through the woods was quiet except for the occasional sigh from me or Paul. I figured he was heading toward Emily’s but when he started to go in a different direction I got worried. He was bringing me to his house, probably to confront me about everything. Would his father be there? Had he told his dad anything about me ditching him? I had really liked his father when we met and it had seemed, at the time, that he had liked me too and I wanted it to stay that way even if I was hurting his son.

He dropped me to the ground as soon as his house came into view and ran off somewhere. The ground in his yard was not as wet as it had been in the forest and I was thankful, even though my clothes were already ruined from the tree and lightning incidents. Paul came back into view, wearing wrinkled clothes that he had stashed in the forest.

He said nothing to me as he took my hand and led me into his house. He turned the lights on as we went through the empty house, his father nowhere to be seen. It felt good to be in his house, holding his hand and as I realized that a pang hit my chest. This is what I wanted but could never have as long as my dad was watching my every move.

His room was messy, dirty clothes on the floor and his bed unmade but it felt like home. The entire room smelled like him and felt warm. I hadn’t realized until he sat me on his bed that I was shivering. Whether it was from the adrenaline wearing off or the wet and cold weather outside, it most likely being a combination of the two along with the nervousness I felt being alone with Paul.

Grey material landed on my lap and the door to his room slammed. Pulling at it, it became two articles of clothing. Matching grey hoodie and sweats, much too big for me. I pulled off my ruined clothes reluctantly and dressed in what Paul had provided. As I was changing my back began to ache. Without my faster than normal healing I’d probably curled up in pain with some serious injuries but whatever had been damaged was healing and only giving me some discomfort.

I was folding my clothes when Paul came back into the room and dragged me toward his bathroom silently. He was still silent and look on his face told me to keep it that way until he decided he wanted to hear something.

Paul picked me up with ease, like I weighed less than a piece of paper and set me on the counter. The sink water was already running as he ran a washcloth under it, squeezing it out before bringing it to my face and dabbing at my forehead. He ran the towel under the water again, light pink rinsed from it and ran down the drain. Why my head was bleeding I didn’t know but he seemed determined to take care of me so for the moment I let him.

He kept rubbing the towel on different spots of my face until the water ran clean from it and he looked satisfied. When he was done putting the towel in the hamper and wiping his hands he came back over to me and took the hair tie out of my hair. I had forgotten about it altogether. My hair was probably a mess anyway so having it down wasn’t much different.

His hands didn’t leave my face like I thought they would. He had used his fingers to get the knots out of my hair and now his hands were cupping my face. His thumbs gently moved back and forth over my cheeks as he stared into my eyes. I could feel mine become glazed over with tears.

“You think you’re so great,” Paul teased from beside me. We had stopped kissing for the moment as we watched the sunset. I shoved his chest and beamed over at him.

“Better than you,” I teased right back. The smirk on his face was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. When I looked at him, whether he was smiling or not, I knew I wanted to see that face every single day forever.

“Better than me, huh,” he thought for a minute. His eyes popped wide, I could practically see the lightbulb click on in his head. His head turned slowly to me, an evil smirk forming on his beautiful lips. I knew he was up to no good but I couldn’t help the urge to kiss him that hit me as I stared.

“What?” I asked, leaning into him and nudging at his shoulder with my head. He looked down at me, smirk still present.

“Well, miss ‘I am so much better than Paul’, how about we see who can climb to the top of those cliffs faster?” he was challenging me? I leaned back from him surprised but intrigued. The only way to get to the bottom of the cliffs was to swim to them and I could hold my breath for long periods of time so that would be a cake walk. Though he was probably challenging me to this specific task because he knew he could beat me.

“You’re on,” I agreed, shoving myself away from him and bounding to the water as quickly as I could. Somewhere behind me Paul could be heard yelling ‘you cheater!’ but I ignored him and laughed as I dove into the frigid water.

Sometimes to get places when I was younger my father made us swim. It was the best method if you didn’t want someone to catch your scent plus it was a great way to keep kid me entertained. We swam as much as we could, the temperature not really affecting me because of my heightened natural body temperature.

Right now I was thankful for all the time we spent in the water. My arms pushing out in front of me and my legs kicking behind me. Who knew how far behind Paul was, that only made me push harder and go faster. He didn’t seem like the type to let me win so I would have to win this all on my own and I was confident that I was able to pull it off.

My head broke the surface as soon as the rocky shoreline came into view. I kicked off one that was submerged under the water and landed up on the side of the cliff, gripping onto the jagged edges as hard as I could without hurting my hands. Paul was coming out of the water too breathing heavily from having to hold his breath for longer than he was used to.

We made eye contact and I gave him a fleeting smirk and started going up the cliff as fast as I could. I wasn’t wearing the ideal pair of shoes for rock climbing, they didn’t have proper grips on the bottom and they were slippery from being in the water but I made it work.

I could hear Paul’s labored breathing to the side of me and knew he was gaining on me. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the rocks harder. In my peripheral I could see him going higher than where I was at, he was almost at the top. I didn’t want him to win so bad that I braced my legs on a small ledge that jutted out of the cliff and sprang up as hard as I could on them. Thanking my amazing vampire abilities as I landed at the top of the cliff, leaving Paul hanging onto the side and staring up at me in awe.

“Cheater,” I heard him mutter as he climbed slowly to the top, not ready to face his defeat. He tried to make his face look sad but I knew better from the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. He stalked over to me rather quickly, the same look on his face the entire time but someone his smile got wider and more suspicious.

“I’m glad you showed me that you could swim very well,” he whispered very lowly, as he came to a stop so close to me that my chin was brushing his chest. His hands caressed my face gently and he placed a soft kiss to my forehead, before scooping me up into his arms. He started to walk, getting closer to the edge of the cliff we had just climbed.

“Don’t you dare,” I warned him as I glanced down to the water far below us. Gripping onto his shoulders as best as I could, a sinking feeling in my stomach as I sensed what was coming up next.

“Are you afraid, princess?” he taunted me with the nickname. I felt his arms leave my body and I was flying through the air quickly. Just as I started to feel a cold mist against my body from the waves crashing violently on the rocks, I hit the water and sank far below. My eyes closed as I was submerged, opening again slowly so I could look at the dark ocean around me.

Kicking my legs and flailing my arms, I slowly rose back to the top and broke through the water. Air flooded my lungs and I greedily sucked it in. A huge wave rose up and towered over me, crashing down and sending me under again. This time I stayed under and swam quickly to the shore.

“Took you long enough to get back here, princess,” Paul taunted from where he was sitting on the beach. Despite him throwing me into the water the urge to kiss him was there again. Without thinking about anything I charged forward out of the water and tackled him backwards into the sand. Our lips pressed in an urgent, heated kiss. We stayed like that for a few minutes. The waves crashed gently on the beach behind us, the sun setting overhead.

“You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you, princess?”

The tears poured down my face now as Paul watched me quietly. The connection we had had was immediate and urgent. Some relationships took several years to develop and others took minutes. There was no reason why. Maybe it was fate, something mapped out by an entity greater than us. No one really knows the real reason, the only thing anyone really knew was that some people find their soulmates and others don’t.

The reality was I think I had found mine. As I looked into Paul’s eyes I could see a home, a future. The thought of going against my father made my stomach churn in an unfamiliar way. The decision was made in my mind. For now I would have to put a stop to Paul and I but I wouldn’t be able to close him out completely. But one day I would figure out how to get my father out of my life so I could peacefully be with Paul.

Paul’s thumbs were gently against my cheeks as he wiped my tears away. He was there, right in front of me, looking loving and caring. My heart ached as I thought about having to put off whatever Paul and I had but I knew for now it would be safer for him if I did that.

“Paul,” I tried to start to tell him what I was thinking but he shushed me real quick and leaned his face toward mine. The kiss was more gentle than the kisses we had shared before, his lips barely touching mine.

“Em,” he whispered, to me when he pulled away. His arms pulled me into a hug with my cheek pressed against his chest. This felt safe, safer than being home alone worrying about whether my father would show up. His warm skin against me almost lulled me into forgetting and falling asleep.

“Listen, I have something I need to explain to you because I don’t want to hurt you,” Paul sighed quietly form above me but didn’t let me go. His arms stayed wrapped around me tightly and he pressed his head to the top of mine. He nuzzled his cheek against my hair, breathing in heavily like he was trying to calm himself down.

“Don’t,” he whispered, his voice beginning to sound hoarse. I pulled back quickly when I realized he would start crying. Taking his face in my hands I made him look at me.

“It’s not that bad, I promise. My dad saw us on the beach the other day and called me warning me to stay away from the ‘dogs’,” I began. The confession that my dad was involved in me hurting Paul brought a fire to his eyes, his nostrils flaring. He opened his mouth to say something but I was the one to shush him this time. “One day I’ll figure out how to get away from him with no repercussions. One day you and I will be together but right now it’s not safe. He told me he had a friend that was watching me too when he is too busy.”

“Em, no one in the pack will let your dad do anything bad to you or anyone else. Friend or not he’s no match for us ‘dogs’,” he tried to reason with me. His words flowing out urgently like he had to convince me now in fear that he never would have the chance again. The tears were flowing down my face again as he spoke.

“It will make me feel safer if we put us off for a little bit. We need to focus on Victoria anyway, if my dad sees us doing that I have a better chance of explaining that than if he sees us making out on the beach again. Please Paul, doing this will put me at some sort of ease even if it’s not easy and doesn’t feel good,” when I was finished he just stared at me silently for a few minutes. He looked around the small bathroom we were in.

“There’s no way he could see us making out in here,” Paul whispered as he leaned his face in again. I knew we shouldn’t be doing this but he was right even if my dad was watching for me he couldn’t see into the windowless bathroom. With a small sigh leaving my lips I leaned the rest of the way and kissed him back.

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freddiesaysalright · 4 years

Text

Soft in Love Part 2

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @benders-diamond-earring, @im-an-adult-ish, @anincurablefangirl, @kiainspace, @lookuptotheskiesandsee If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this next part! Sorry it’s taken a little longer than usual, I’ve been pretty busy at work.

Warning(s): None! Well, more pining, but hey, y’all asked for this.

Part 1

Part 2 here we go!!!

That night, you went to Sloan’s for pizza and a movie. Since you lived on campus as part of your scholarship, you tended to hang out at Sloan and Andrew’s apartment once classes were over and homework was done. You had a room to yourself, but it wasn’t spacious, so the three of you normally were at their shabby, typical New York apartment with little space and even less furniture.

“So, what should we watch?” you wondered as you plopped down on the couch.

“How about Bohemian Rhapsody?” Sloan suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Y’know, so you can really see Gwilym in action?”

Andrew groaned. “Come on, Sloan, we’ve teased her enough.”

“What?” she shot back. “They were really connecting.”

“Connecting?” you questioned. “We barely said two words to each other.”

You had neglected to tell them about running into your substitute in the library. You were keeping that moment to yourself. It felt like something private, even though it was perfectly innocent. You wanted to keep it in your heart. For now, at least.

“All that eye contact,” Sloan continued. “It was like Edward and Bella in there.”

“If it was like Edward and Bella, he’s more likely to murder me than anything,” you retorted.

“Edward doesn’t kill Bella!” she argued.

“He turns her into a vampire!” Andrew pointed out. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is!”

“Okay, Jacob!”

“Guys!” you interjected. “If we talk anymore about Twilight, I’m going to kill myself. Let’s just pick a movie.”

“I still vote for Bohemian Rhapsody,” Sloan said. “Y/N should see at least one thing our new professor is in.”

“I think we should watch a classic,” Andrew replied. “I haven’t watched Casablanca in a while.”

“One vote for Bohemian Rhapsody, one vote for Casablanca,” she said, then looked at you. “Would you like to cast a vote, or add a contender?”

You thought for a moment, but you already knew what you were going to pick. You just wanted to give Andrew the illusion of having a chance. You tapped your chin with your forefinger.

“I’m gonna go with…” you paused. “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, come on!” Andrew mock complained. Then he smiled. “Alright, I’m gonna order the pizza.”

“We’ll start the movie,” Sloan assured him.

As she picked up the remote, you considered telling her about the library. You weren’t sure why Sloan should be allowed this information and not Andrew, but you’d noticed he had sort of drifted from you while you were dating Daniel. Now that you and Daniel were broken up, Andrew was friendlier than before even. It made you a little confused. And the distance really hurt you.

But you looked at Sloan and thought about what she had said so far. You didn’t think she would tease you about the library, but she also would likely turn it into something it wasn’t. She had a tendency to gas you up for things that were hardly ever a big deal in reality. So you decided not to tell her. The moment would remain just yours. And Gwilym’s, of course.

The movie began, with the pizza arriving about half an hour in. You wouldn’t call yourself a huge Queen fan, but you liked their hits. You admired the movie’s aesthetic, but you especially admired Gwilym’s performance. He looked so cool with the curly hair and the seventies clothes. It was rather unlike the man you’d met earlier that day. Not that Gwilym didn’t look cool, he just wasn’t as glam. At least, not on that level.

When the movie finished after the Live Aid scene, you had gotten a little emotional. You wiped your burning eyes and sniffled.

“So, what’d you think?” Sloan asked, switching the television off.

“It was good,” you choked out.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re such a sap,” Andrew joked.

“Shut up!” you returned. “I just have feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

He laughed. “Nah, I guess you’re right.”

You stretched out on the couch, nudging his thigh playfully with your toe as you giggled and yawned. He smiled back at you.

“I’m beat,” you sighed. “I think I’ll head back to my dorm.”

“You know you’re always welcome to stay here,” Andrew said.

“I know,” you replied. “But I don’t like to intrude. Plus, your couch is lumpy.”

“You could take my bed,” he offered.

Something about the way he didn’t look at you when he said it rubbed you the wrong way. If Andrew had feelings for you, you wished he would either say it or get over it, but not say things like that to leave you wondering. You knew it could never be that way between you, so you hoped for the latter.

“I’d rather be in my own bed,” you said, keeping your tone light.

You got off the couch and stretched again. As you put your backpack on, you thanked them for the pizza and then bid them goodnight.

Sloan closed the door behind you and looked at her roommate.

“Could you be any more obvious?” she said. She continued by doing her best Andrew impression. “Stay here, sleep in my bed, suck my dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he returned, disappearing in to his room.

You headed back to campus, which was only a few blocks away, your mind racing. Everything from your chance library meeting with Gwilym to whatever the hell had gotten into Andrew was swirling around in your mind.

As you passed the coffee shop closest to campus - frequented by mostly students and faculty, you spotted Gwilym though the window. You watched him as he pored over the book you had recommended, sipping his drink with something of a refined air about him. The temptation to go in and say hello was overwhelming. You were just so drawn to him for some reason. But you decided against it, remembering the way Sloan had compared you both to the cringiest couple perhaps ever written. Showing up suddenly at the coffee shop after one earlier chance meeting seemed very stalker or Edward Cullen-ish. Even if it was genuinely a coincidence. With a sigh, you moved along.

Gwilym lifted his eyes from the page he was reading and looked around. He felt as if there was someone he knew nearby, but as his eyes scanned the room, he saw only strangers. Movement by the window made him look out, but he missed who or whatever it was that created the motion. He blinked in that direction, his mind drawing up - for some reason - an image of you standing there.

Something resembling disappointment crossed over his heart, but he pushed it down. He didn’t need to be wishing to see you anywhere outside of class. His phone ringing brought a welcome distraction.

“Hello?” he said, picking it up.

“Gwilym, hi!” chirped the voice of Dr. Bennett. “I just wanted to check on you and see how the first day went.”

“You’ve just given birth, and you’re worried about me?” he returned. “Emily, that’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t scold me, Gwil,” she answered lightly. “How’d the class go?”

“If you must know, it went just fine,” he told her. “I’ve been introduced to everyone. You have a very talented class there.”

“Excited as I am to have my son, I am a bit bummed I won’t get to teach them,” she agreed. “But, I’ve left them in very capable hands. I’m glad it’s going smoothly.”

“It really is,” he said.

“What do you think of Y/N?” she asked.

His chest tightened.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” he said stiffly.

“She’s a real star,” she went on.

“I haven’t heard her sing yet, but from the way you and Dr. Curtis talk, I feel I should have a handkerchief on me or something.”

She laughed. “She’ll impress you I’m sure. Be careful there.”

He paused, wanting to know more about what she meant. It was an odd thing to say about a student. Was she joking? Was she giving him some warning about who you were? Were you not what you seemed? He wanted answers, but decided to ignore it entirely. That was the best way to deal with something like this, in his opinion.

“How are you and the baby?” Gwilym asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Perfect, so far,” she said. “Just ready to get home.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey, Gwil,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Please keep me updated on everything,” she requested. “I’ll come and see the show at the end of the semester, but I want to know how everything comes together.”

“Will do,” he promised.

“Thanks,” she said warmly.

“You get some rest now,” he said.

“Will do,” she replied, and he heard the smile in her voice.

They said goodbye and hung up. Gwilym’s mind still reeled with her warning. Be careful there. Be careful of what, exactly? Perhaps it was better if he never knew.

On Thursday, you showed up to class early, as usual. The auditorium was empty except for Gwilym. Your heart rate quickened as you approached him.

“Morning,” you said brightly.

He turned his head and smiled at you. “Hello, Y/N. You’re early.”

“I’m always early,” you said with a shrug. “How’s the book?”

“I’m only three chapters in, but it is interesting,” he replied. “Fond as I am of Shakespeare’s plays, it’s his poetry that really gets me.”

“Oh, really?” you wondered.

He nodded. “Yes. Poetry and songs I think are the most intimate forms of writing. The authors put their feelings out and wrap them up in beautiful language. And somehow, that makes others feel it. As if it were their own. If that makes any sense.”

You pondered his words a moment. You thought of every time you’d sung in your car at the top of your lungs, the words of a song just punching you right in the heart.

“It makes sense,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were so into that stuff.”

“There’s a lot about me that may surprise you, Y/N,” he said.

You met his gaze, searching for the meaning behind that. He cut his eyes away before you did, clearing his throat.

“Would you like to get started?” he asked. “We can begin with your solo, ‘The Boy Next Door’.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “Want me to sing acapella or play piano?”

“You sing, I’ll accompany you,” he returned.

“You play piano?” you questioned. “You certainly are full of surprises.”

The teasing tone felt a bit unfamiliar to you. Were you flirting with him? If you were, was it wrong?

“I play piano, but not very well,” he replied humbly. “I can play a simple tune like this.”

You smiled as you both took the stage, you stopping in the center and he taking a seat on the piano bench. You waited for his cue, and then when he began, you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“The moment I saw him smile

I knew he was just my style

My only regret is we’ve never met

Though I dream of him all the while

But he doesn’t know I exist

No matter how I may persist

So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-”

Gwilym missed a note on the piano and stopped, bringing you to a halt as well. You shot him a questioning look.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good enough to turn the pages on time.”

“Oh, is that all?” you teased. “Here, I’ll stand next to the piano and turn the pages for you.”

“I’m very much obliged,” he returned.

You walked over and stood to the side, looking expectantly at him.

“From ‘so it’s clear,’” he told you.

“So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-five Kensington Avenue-”

You turned the page.

“And he lives at fifty-one-thirty three.

How can I ignore the boy next door

I love him more than I can say

Doesn’t try to please me

Doesn’t even tease me

And he never sees me glance his way…”

You stole a glance at Gwilym as you held this note. His face was screwed up in concentration as his eyes followed the music. His hands, which were large and smooth, moved gracefully. His long fingers pressed the keys with ease. He looked very handsome.

“And though I’m heart sore, the boy next door

Affection for me won’t display

I just adore him

So I can’t ignore him

The boy next door…”

You held the note and came off of it slowly and softly. Gwilym did the same with his final note. As the song closed, you looked at each other. A moment of softness passed between your gazes. Gwilym was beginning to understand his friend’s warning. You were so...charming.

“That was very good,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly.

“I’m impressed you knew all the words,” he remarked.

“I’ve been a fan of the movie since I was little,” you told him. “I literally wanted to be Judy Garland.”

“Well, you don’t have very far to go,” he said. “Although, I believe Y/N Y/L/N is perfect just as she is. You don’t have to be Judy Garland.”

Heat came to your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said again, looking at the floor.

You paused, searching for something to say in return, some compliment to pay him.

“The piano playing was -”

“Please, Y/N, let’s not go there,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “My piano playing is absolute shit.”

He held his breath as the words left his mouth, fearful you might take offense to the language or feel he was getting too comfortable. When you clapped your hand over your mouth to stifle the most adorable giggle he’d ever heard, he was relieved.

“It wasn’t shit!” you protested. “Really, it wasn’t!”

“I appreciate you trying to bolster me, but the most redeeming part was playing through your page turn, which was executed flawlessly.”

You laughed some more.

“Well, I am known around here for my page turning skills,” you joked.

“I have a feeling you’ll be known for many things, Y/N,” he said. “Including turning pages for barely capable pianists.”

Your smile lingered on your lips as your classmates began entering the theater. Sloan eyed you questioningly as he saw how close you were standing to Gwilym. When had you drifted that way? You hadn’t felt yourself move.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you stepped away, back toward center stage. Gwilym got to his feet and followed you, turning to address the other students.

“Welcome back, everyone,” he said.

He took roll quickly before getting into rehearsal. He and Lily were working on their early scene in the wagon. You watched him ease her into comfort with him. She was six, just like her character, Tootie, and though not shy, did need to warm up to people. Sloan’s sister took a seat in the audience, and you saw her soften as she looked on as well.

“Isn’t that sweet?” you said to Sloan as she approached you.

She looked over at Gwilym going back and forth with her niece.

“Precious,” she said flatly. “You and Gwilym seemed pretty cozy.”

You rolled your eyes, but knew you still looked flushed.

“Oh, please,” you said. “We were just practicing.”

“Y/N, look at me,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

You did.

“I know we’re joking about how hot he is and all that, but it’s not smart to think any further than that,” she said. “He’s a professor - at least right now - and both of you could get into trouble.”

Defensiveness surged through you.

“You’re talking about it like we’ve been sleeping together or something,” you said, harsher than you meant to. “You’re the one who’s been making the jokes. Nothing’s happened, so spare me the lecture.”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a friend,” she said.

“Look, it’s perfectly normal to connect with a teacher,” you returned. “It’s nothing more than that.”

She looked you over, skepticism coming over her sharp features.

“If you say so, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But, for the record, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you were looking at him when we walked in. Ever.”

She walked away, leaving you stricken where you stood.

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jilyyall · 4 years

Text

Animal Magnetism - Ch 2. Jacob Black.

Edward Cullen was not a normal teenager; of that I was certain. But knowing that did nothing to stop the pull I felt towards him. And if what he was saying was any indication, he felt some strange pull towards me, too. It was like we were magnets struggling against hope to stay apart. I only wondered what would happen when we inevitably collided.

Chapter 2. Jacob Black. Fanfiction.net / AO3 Intro/1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/

"Are there any cute boys in Forks?"

I made a face at my phone and had the benefit of watching my best friend Madison laugh at me. It was Friday, which made it a whole entire week since Renee and I had shipped out from Phoenix to Forks.

She clearly took my reaction to mean that there weren't any cute boys around but, in all honesty, a certain face came to mind at her question. Edward Cullen, who had looked ready to murder me at lunch on Monday, wasn't in school for the rest of the week. I was beginning to think he had transferred out, but I figured something like that wouldn't stay secret for long in a town this small. His siblings were all at school every day, sitting at that same lunch table. I knew because I had made a habit of checking. Purely for my own physical wellbeing, I tried to tell myself. Because I needed to know if I was going to have to spend Biology next to a boy who hated me for no reason.

In reality, I just wanted to see him. There was something about him… I looked at the eerily lifelike sketch of his face I had made on my Government syllabus on that first day. He was beautiful. He was alluring. Apparently, he wanted to kill me. I wanted only to see if that was true. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Maybe he was just a normal boy who had gotten ill and left school early and was still recovering. His father was a doctor… maybe he was just a very thorough doctor.

"Hello? Bella?" Madison sang, drawing out the words in a pretty, taunting melody. "Don't tell me you're already crushing on someone."

"No!" I insisted, my face going bright red. "I was just thinking… there are a couple guys at school who I think like me."

"Nice. And which one will you be dating?" she asked.

"None of them!" I laughed just picturing it. "There's this guy named Mike… super boyish looks… blond hair, blue eyes… he's pretty popular. I don't know, maybe he's kind of cute… not my type. Anyway, this girl Jessica, I guess we're kind of friends now… she's half in love with him. He keeps walking me to class and going out of his way to talk to me and be on my team in Gym."

"Wow, he really does like you if he's willing to put himself in harm's way just to be near you," she snickered.

I ignored her, and quickly continued. "Every time he comes to talk to me, I bring the conversation around to Jess. If she's around, I try to just shove them together."

"Ultimate wing woman, as ever," Madison said with a giggle.

"Speaking of, how's Conner?" I asked. Conner was a good friend of mine back in Phoenix. His best friend Dylan was dating Alana, one of the girls we hung out with and at first they had tried to set me up with Conner, but there was nothing there but friendship. My last few months in Phoenix, I was working on getting Conner to ask out Madison, who thought he was really cute.

"Oh, you know… we're going out tomorrow," she said nonchalantly.

I gaped at her. "Wow. Way to bury the lead."

"I know! I've been choking it back ever since you called!" she squealed.

"When did he ask you?" I said.

"Yesterday!" Even if I couldn't hear the excitement in her voice, it was plain as day on her face. "I wanted to call you right away, but I decided to let it marinate."

"Wow," I said. "That's great."

"Bella, what's wrong?" Madison reined in her excitement with some effort, to study my face closely.

"I just miss you guys," I said with a weak smile. "I miss the sun."

"Even though it burns the crap out of you in three seconds?" She said, referencing the reason for my alabaster skin.

"It's better than being wet constantly," I grumbled.

"Well, at least it sounds like you're making friends!" Madison said, trying to cheer me up. "Hey, who's the other guy?"

My mind immediately went to my mysterious, handsome Biology lab partner, who I had yet to actually meet, but I knew she couldn't be talking about him. "What other guy?"

"You said there were two boys who liked you, but you only mentioned Mike," Madison said.

"Oh. Well, there's this other guy named Eric. We only have one class together, and lunch. He and Mike are friends… only the kind of friends who seem like they hate each other half the time? I don't even really sit near him in English, but he always tries to walk with me to class, and then he started sitting with us at lunch on Wednesday," I told her.

"Is he cute?" Madison asked.

"He's uh… Well, Eric is very… nice. He's a very nice guy," I said diplomatically, but Madison laughed, clearly understanding that I meant no, Eric is not cute. At least, not in my opinion.

"Bells!" Charlie called loudly up the stairs. "Billy and Jacob will be here soon!"

"Do you have to go?" Madison asked, pouting.

"I guess so. Sorry," I smiled sadly. "Dad's friend and his son are coming over."

"Ooh, cute son?" Madison asked.

"Mads!" I laughed, shaking my head. "There are more important things than cute boys!"

"That has yet to be proven," Madison said primly, then raised an expectant eyebrow. "Is he?"

"Um. I haven't seen Jacob Black since we were both kids, so how would I know?" I said, and then frowned. "I think he's only fifteen."

"What's two years, if the boy is cute?" Madison said.

I rolled my eyes.

"Bella!" Renee called.

"Go," Madison said. "I have to start getting ready anyway."

"I thought your date was tomorrow."

"It is," she said, and I could see that she was standing up from her bed now, starting to move around her room. "We're all going to that state fair tonight, remember?"

I did remember. It had originally been my idea to all go together as a group. Then my parents had sprung the move on me. I forced myself to smile by the time Madison turned her attention back to me.

"Oh, yeah," I said. "Have fun!"

I could see by her frown that I hadn't fooled her. "Bella…"

"I should go before my parents yell at me again!" I said. "I'll talk to you later!"

With the click of a button, her face disappeared from my screen. Suddenly, I was feeling more depressed than ever about this move. All of my friends back in Phoenix were going off tonight to have fun at the fair that I had wanted to go to.

"Bella!" Renee called from just outside my door. "If you're not down here in five minutes…"

I tossed my phone on the bed and crossed my room to fling the door open before my mother could think of a suitable threat. It probably would have been another generic 'you will regret it' anyway.

"Oh, honey," she said, her expression fading from stern to sympathetic when she saw my face. "What happened?"

"We moved to Forks," I said, trying for deadpan, but even I could hear the slight venom in my tone. Knowing I should apologize and explain myself, but not really wanting to, I slipped past Renee and down the stairs.

Jacob Black, as it turned out, was a pretty cool kid. He lived with his dad, Billy, down in La Push on the Quileute Reservation. Billy was one of the tribe elders, and he was also Charlie's best friend. Apparently, they used to go fishing a lot, but as far as I could tell, this was the first time they had gotten together in a while.

Jacob was nice, and sweet, and effortlessly funny. He acted like we were old friends instead of two teens thrust together by their fathers. Really, we kind of were old friends, but when you hadn't seen a guy since we was eleven and you were thirteen and your clearest memory of him was the two of you making mud pies together, you could be forgiven for thinking the reunion could be a little awkward.

"Hey, Jacob?" I said.

We were washing dishes together after dinner while our parents were catching up in the living room with a few cans of beer.

"Yeah?" he asked.

He was two years younger than me, but he was maybe an inch or so taller than me, and his thick black hair about as long as mine and hung in a long, straight ponytail down his back; the end of it swished as he moved around the kitchen putting away dishes after I'd washed and he'd dried them.

"How come Billy and my dad haven't seen each other in a while?" I asked.

"Caught that, did you?" he said with an embarrassed laugh. He sighed and shook his head when I only nodded and watched him expectantly. "Well, it's kind of a weird story."

"I can handle weird," I said, more curious than ever.

"Ah. Well, have you met the Cullens yet?" he asked as he rearranged the dishes in a cabinet so that he could fit another bowl. "They're a family who moved here a couple years ago."

"Yeah, I know them. Well, sort of. I go to school with the kids," I said awkwardly, wondering why everything had to circle back to Edward Cullen. "Haven't actually met them yet."

"Well. There's this legend. Down on the Res," he said haltingly. "It's stupid, I'm not supposed to talk about it."

I saw that the back of his neck and the tips of his ears were flushed and considered. Was this yet another boy who might like me? Or was this just a kid embarrassed by his tribe's superstition?

"I can keep a secret," I said, trying for the flirtatious tone that Sasha, a friend of Madison's, used often to get boys to do her bidding. It sounded awkward on my lips, forced and unnatural and horribly fake, but Jacob turned to me with slightly wide eyes. I looked back down at what my hands were doing in the soapy water, partly to hide my face from Jacob and also partly so that I didn't accidentally cut myself or break anything.

"Okay, well… the Cullens just don't have a very good reputation down on the Res," he said carefully. I could tell he was leaving something out, but I didn't trust myself to be able to pull off that flirtatious tone again. "People think they're strange."

"Well, can't argue with that," I said quietly. I dried my hands when I was finished washing the dishes, and leaned against the counter to watch Jacob finish drying and putting them away. "But what does that have to do with Billy and my dad?"

"Well, I guess my dad warned Charlie about them," Jacob said slowly, and I got the feeling he was measuring each word carefully. "Said they might be dangerous, and that he ought to keep an eye on them."

"Are they dangerous?" I whispered, thinking of Edward's murderous black glare and unprovoked hatred.

Jacob shrugged and shot me a pained grimace. "I don't know, Bella. Not in Charlie's opinion, and he's police chief, so it's his job to know if someone's dangerous."

"Jake, you ready to go?" Billy said from the doorway. I could tell by the way he was looking at us from his wheelchair that he had heard enough of our conversation to think his son had already said too much.

"Sure, sure," Jacob said, hurriedly putting away the last plate. I could see that he knew his father had caught him, but he didn't seem too worried about it as he smiled at me and said goodnight.

"Don't be a stranger, Billy," Renee said, leaning into Charlie's side when he wrapped his arm around her on the front porch. "And you, Jacob. You're welcome over for dinner anytime."

"Thanks, Mrs. Swan," Jacob grinned.

"Renee," she corrected.

"Careful what you offer. Jake here could eat a whole horse," Billy warned as Jacob lifted him into the passenger's seat with more ease than any fifteen year-old should, and folded up his wheelchair to stow in the back of the car. Charlie pretended not to notice when Jacob climbed in behind the steering wheel.

"Yeah, well, maybe Jake needs to be careful too," Charlie joked. "Renee has a knack for making some really inedible meals."

I smirked at that, and Renee elbowed him in the side with a scoff. He was right; Renee couldn't cook to save her life. Jacob and Billy only laughed and drove away as we waved them off.

The weekend passed slowly. Renee and Charlie went into town to look at a few properties to rent that Renee could use as an art studio on Saturday because there wasn't any room in our house for her to work. I spent much of the day texting my friends in Phoenix, and catching up on some reading for English. On Sunday, I woke up to a phone call from Madison, who wanted to walk me through her date with Conner. She went over every minute detail of the night, from her outfit to the cologne he was wearing, to the nervous kind of smile he sent her as he walked her to her door, right before he kissed her. After she finally let me off the phone, I texted Conner to congratulate him on finally taking my advice, and got back an emoji rolling his eyes in response.

And on Sunday afternoon, I headed out to the porch to see what the commotion was when I heard a monstrous rumbling outside. There, in the driveway sat a behemoth of a truck. It was red and solidly built, and in the driver's seat was Jacob Black. He jumped out quickly, probably so that Charlie couldn't actually see him behind the wheel again, though it was pretty clear who had driven as he went to retrieve the wheelchair from the bed of the truck and helped his dad out of the passenger's seat.

"Hey, Jacob, Billy. What's up?" I asked as my parents came to the door behind me.

"Bella," Charlie said, and he sounded excited. I glanced back at him over my shoulder to see him grinning at me. "This is your new truck."

"Loose interpretation of the word 'new,' Charlie," Jacob said, laughing, probably at the look of disbelief on my face.

He wasn't wrong. The truck was ancient, probably older than I was, and the paint job was nonexistent. It was red, sure, but so faded and uneven that it was almost pink in some spots, and a very light almost orange in others. And boy was it loud, but I didn't really care. It was a truck, and it was mine. It meant that I didn't have to get Renee to drive me to and from school every day, and I would never have to be dropped off in Charlie's police cruiser.

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You bought it for me?"

I knew that this was just one more thing to mark how permanent this move was, but I couldn't help but be excited. It would be nice to be able to drive myself to school every day. And I could go into town whenever I wanted, if I ever wanted. I could go to the grocery store for myself. I could even drive up to Seattle, just to get away from Forks for a day.

"Yes, Bella, it's yours," Renee said. When I turned around, she was beaming and I knew it was because it was the first time she'd seen me smile since we came to Forks. I didn't think twice as I hugged my parents, thanking them profusely, before I ran down the walkway to inspect. I slipped when my foot hit the concrete and Jacob caught me, very gallantly deciding not to tease me as he began to give me a tour of the truck.

Before they left to head back to the Reservation with Charlie in his cruiser, Jacob warned me not take the truck over fifty. When I laughed, he told me he was serious.

"I rebuilt that engine. It's sturdy, but it will die if you drive over fifty," he reiterated.

"Good thing I know a good mechanic," I told him, and pretended to ignore his pleased flush.

On Monday, I drove my new truck to school, high on the freedom of being alone. I parked in front of a silver Volvo, by far the nicest car in the lot, and hopped cheerfully out of my truck. I wasn't even annoyed when Mike and Eric both walked with me to English, and joined in on their conversation about the weekend.

The day was smooth sailing until lunch.

I had just sat down with my tray of food at my usual table with all of my new friends when Jessica leaned over, her face right in front of Mike's, to hiss at me.

"Edward Cullen is staring at you."

I paused, my bottle of water halfway to my lips, and felt terror clawing in the pit of my stomach. "What?"

"He is," Mike confirmed, frowning. "I wonder why."

I was too much a coward to look, to confirm that he was back. After an entire week, I had gotten used to his absence. It was an absurd thing, really, to be used to the absence of someone I hadn't even met. But I knew who he was, and I knew that for some reason I couldn't grasp, he hated me. Fervently.

"Does he look mad?" I whispered.

Mike and Jessica gave me twin odd looks.

"No," Mike said slowly.

"Should he?" Jessica asked with a small, confused giggle. "I mean, how badly could you have offended him? You never even met him."

"Oh, yeah," Mike said. "He was out all last week. He's probably curious about the new girl."

His grin was teasing, and he waggled his eyebrows at me so I rolled my eyes if only because I knew I should react in some way.

"He's still staring," Jessica informed us a few minutes later.

Mike went sullen again, and stopped in the middle of what I was sure was an inflated story about the last time he went surfing. When he looked in the direction of the table I knew the Cullens occupied every day, I rammed an elbow in his side none-too-gently.

"Stop looking at him!" I hissed at them both.

Jessica giggled at my reaction, but did as I asked, her gaze dropping to the table. Mike frowned, clearly not liking that another boy was giving me attention, or that I was so affected by it. I saw the moment Jessica noticed Mike's mood: the smirk slid off her face and she propped her chin up on her fist as she pushed a pile of corn indolently around her plate.

I sighed, and pushed back my chair. I didn't have the energy for this. "I'll see you guys later," I said, and walked away.

I was dreading going to Biology and having to endure the most uncomfortable hour of my life with Edward Cullen for a lab partner. Idly, I wandered the school. Lunch had only just begun, so I had a lot of time to kill. I stopped when I came to a building I'd never been in. I didn't have any classes in Building two; I didn't even know what kind of classes were held here.

Curious, I pushed open the door and walked down the hall. I peeked in the door of the first room I passed and saw a few easels set up with paint still drying on canvas. So this building held art classes. It was comforting in a way, to be surrounded by all of the things that used to litter Renee's cramped little in-home studio back in Phoenix. I walked a little further down the hall until I came to another door. Peering inside, I was surprised to find that this was clearly the music classroom.

There was a piano in the front of the room, and several guitars and other various instruments in cases I couldn't identify. I was surprised that Forks High offered music classes; it seemed like a small town high school with only four hundred students wouldn't be the type of school to support the arts.

I stepped inside, cautiously glancing around to make sure there was no one in the room, and walked to the piano. I couldn't play very well. Aside from the embarrassingly basic Happy Birthday to You and Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star, I only knew how to play a few notes. My mother enrolled me in classes back in Reno when I was about eight or nine. I made it through four lessons before I threw such a tantrum that she caved and allowed me to quit. She played a bit, but not very well. Better than me, at least. It was something that calmed her busy mind, she'd told me once. She bought a cheap, used upright when I was ten and used to sit and play poorly at night. I would tease her for her clumsy mishaps, but secretly I enjoyed sitting and listening to her play.

I sat on the bench and laid my fingers on the keys, splayed out as if I actually knew what I was doing. Quietly, I laughed to myself. What was I going to do? Play Happy Birthday? I shook my head and let my fingers smash a few keys at random, discordant notes filling the room for a split second.

A movement caught my eye and I looked up, embarrassed, ready to apologize to some teacher I hadn't met yet.

And my heart began to race when I saw him.

There, in the doorway was the bronze-haired boy from last week. Edward Cullen. I stared at him, wide-eyed, terrified, waiting to see that inexplicable hatred on his face. He stepped into the room, looked around cautiously and kept a safe distance between us. He didn't look angry. He looked confused and almost concerned.

"Hello," he said slowly. His voice was velvet on the air, soft and smooth and luxurious and as melodic as anything I'd ever heard.

Wordless, too afraid to speak, I nodded.

"I apologize. Am I interrupting?" He asked, standing rigid against the wall as far from me as he could be in this room. His guarded, almost pained expression did not match his dulcet tone.

"No," I said slowly, wondering why he was behaving so strangely.

He nodded his head and took several slow steps into the room, towards the piano and me. He looked poised to turn and flee even as he came to a halt so close to the piano that he could reach out and stroke the propped-up cover if he felt like.

The sudden return of my tension that his presence had wrought made me uncomfortable. I was sure my heart had never raced so fast. I was impossibly aware of every small movement of his body. I realized I was holding my breath, so forced myself to exhale. When I cleared my throat, he looked at me like he was concentrating really hard.

"I was just leaving," I lied.

His expression was almost completely neutral, but I sensed just the slightest edge of frustration in his gaze as he studied me. Finally, one corner of his mouth turned up, just slightly, as if he was forcing himself to smile at me. Heart pounding and hands trembling slightly, and trying to pretend I was completely unaffected by his presence, I stood, then bent to pick up the bag I'd dropped at my feet.

"Goodbye, Bella," he said as I walked carefully past him, willing myself not to trip over my own feet. I paused at the door and glanced over my shoulder. How did he know my name? Probably, I reasoned internally, he'd heard it from a classmate. He was already seated on the bench, right where I had just been, and his fingers began to move across the keys, slowly, tenderly, coaxing the most beautiful notes I had ever heard.

I looked at his face, wondering what I would see there. With a jolt, I realized he was watching me as he played, a small, accomplished smile on his lips. Flushing, I smiled weakly, and walked away.

FFN / AO3

#twilight fanfiction #edward cullen #bella swan #jacob black #edward x bella #bellaxedward

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mychemicalficrecs · 4 years

Note

do you have any unusual pairing fics like lola/gerard or party poison/gerard?.. i hope they're exist at least. ty in advance

Hi Nonny!

Well, if this wasn't an interesting ask :DYou can rest assured, there are so, so many different ships on AO3, some of them truly are unusual.Just for funsies: There are currently 223 different relationships for Frank, 89 for Ray, 262 for Gerard, and 210 for Mikey!

Unusual Ships

all-natural by Trojie, Andy/Mikey, 2k, Explicit. Sometimes Andy's straightedge thing harshes Mikey's urge to party, it's true, but y'know what, there are other ways to get chemicals in your system. All-natural, 100% vegan, cruelty-free chemicals, straight from your own hindbrain.

i have photos of him then that would break your heart by Trojie, Andy/Ray, 2k, Explicit. Five snapshots of a friendship with benefits

Be Your Own Spotlight (Like Bowie in the Morning Sun) by jedusaur, Edward Cullen/Mikey, 833 words, Mature. EDWARD CULLEN STALKS MIKEY WAY AND THEN THEY HAVE WILD BACKSTAGE SEX I DON'T EVEN KNOW *hides forever*

it's not the life it seems by akamine_chan, Frank/Frank, 5k, Explicit. Frank woke up struggling to breathe. He sat up in his rumpled bed, fighting against the oppressive pressure in his chest. There wasn't enough air. He heard himself gasping and choking, felt the congestion and blockage in his lungs stealing his ability to inhale. What little air he managed to draw in jammed in his throat and suddenly he couldn't exhale, could only wheeze in more air as his chest expanded and dizziness made his head spin.

Not Immune by sperrywink, Frank/Patrick, 874 words, Explicit. Patrick isn't immune to overblown flirtations, just Pete's. Who knew?

homesick at space camp by Trojie, Gabe/Patrick/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. Patrick's never actually been into a guy before this whole tour, this whole … sudden awareness of Gerard Way. He's always been theoretically open to it, but it's always been totally academic, right? Because he wasn't into any guys, so he never really got into a situation where he could try it, like … like would you like to go to the moon, Patrick? Well, sure, theoretically, but that's never going to happen, is it. But all of a sudden, Patrick Stump is an astronaut.

Reaching Through The Mirror by ladyfoxxx, Gerard/Gerard, 6k, Explicit. The one where Party Poison and Basement!Gerard have sex.

Pillow Talk by akamine_chan, Gerard/Tentacle Alien, 4k, Explicit. Gerard always knew that there had to be life on other planets. He just never planned on meeting it.

boy division by Trojie, Mikey/Mikey, 2k, Explicit. Mikey meets a dude in a bar who has a lot more confidence in Mikey's future as a rockstar than Mikey himself does.

A Penny For Your Thoughts by dear_monday, Party Poison/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. "You're shitting me, right?" he says, looking Poison up and down disbelievingly. "You're not. You narcissistic fuck." Poison shrugs. "Hey. Suit yourself, motorbaby. You're not the only hooker out here tonight, you know."

Fucking Bassists by KateMonster, Patrick/Mikey, 856 words, Teen And Up Audiences. Patrick hates bassists. Sort of. Fine, maybe not really. Not like, a lot. Whatever.

Alien sex time by snazzybaby, Lola/Gerard, 890 words, Explicit. Idk why I write this I just needed to ok? It’s just sex

It Might Get Loud by brynnmck, Frank/Pansy, 1k, Explicit. A boy never forgets his first love.

This Tall To Ride by there_must_be_a_lock, Frank/Sam Winchester, 3k, Explicit. “When it’s time for the show, the band starts to troop toward the stage. Frank goes careening off a wall and takes a running leap onto the blond one’s back, only to get shaken off like a fly. Frank, undeterred, looks speculatively at Sam. “Must be this tall to ride,” Sam deadpans, holding out a hand about an inch over Frank’s head. Frank just giggles, bright and gleeful, and skips ahead to heckle the one with all the hair.”

A Good Use of a Time Machine by phylocalist, Fun Ghoul/Frank, 4k, Explicit. “So, Ghoul,” Frank started out casually, moving his lips from behind Ghoul’s ear to his jaw and letting his breath ghost over it, sending shivers down Ghoul’s spine and creating goosebumps on his arms. “Why did you decide that coming back to hook up with yourself was a good use of your time machine?”

Anakin Skywalker Makes Gerard Want to Touch His Dick by venomondenim, Anakin Skywalker/Gerard, 1k, Explicit. Gerard watches Star Wars a bit too many times and starts to notice how attractive Anakin Skywalker is, and let's his imagination have some fun. He also lets his dick in on some of the action.

Bruised Colours by Ischa, Damon Salvatore/Gerard, Jeremy Gilbert/Damon Salvatore, Jeremy Gilbert/Damon Salvatore/Gerard, 5k, Mature. A story about Damon corrupting innocent young artists. He starts with Gerard while Gerard is still at art-school and picks it up again in Mystic Falls while his brother is busy saving the world and having sex with Elena. He stumbles upon the sketchbook the next morning, kicks it aside on his way to the door and it slitters under one of the chairs. Some people have no sense at all. Ringing the bell at ten o’clock in the freaking morning on a Saturday. Damon has killed people for less.

Choke Me by shadowhive, Klaus Hargreeves/Gerard, 2k, Explicit. Gerard has always wanted to be with someone who had powers.

Chord and Sinew by Green, Billy Tallent/Mikey, 504 words, Teen And Up Audiences. Mikey likes the guitarist's hands.

Soldiers Poem by dishonestdreams, Party Poison/Gerard, 478 words, Not Rated. Gerard can’t remember the last time he saw stars.

On The Road by auctorial, Robert Downey Jr./Mikey, 525 words, Explicit. Mikey has never felt more like a rock star than he does in this moment.

Future Self by shadowhive, Ray/Ray, 869 words, Explicit. It was still so strange, seeing his face on another man. It wasn’t like looking into a mirror, with his reflection staring back at him, this man... this future version of himself, looked different.

#fic rec list

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quatschmachen · 4 years

Text

Icicles

.A small fic set in the 80′s; probably like 1984 ish.

Edward visits Étienne.

Étienne was wearing too many layers.

Sure it was winter and probably cold but no one should be wearing a fully zipped up jacket, toque and scarf ensemble inside the airport, Edward thought.

“Why are you dressed for an arctic expedition?” Edward asked his friend.

Étienne’s voice was muffled by the scarf, “Because I have a slight cold.”

“This is overkill.” Edward teased, “Do you need my jacket as well?”

“Non.” Étienne sneezed then added, “not yet.”

They were heading away from the airport in a taxi, Étienne apparently not patient enough to wait for a bus.

Edward had packed light, he had managed to establish a Drawer for his Montreal clothes at Étienne’s, an accomplishment he tried not to think about too hard (but which, if he could admit to himself, he was delighted over). He had noticed in the brief interim that they had been outside that it was not that cold, and he figured it was probably just an Étienne thing that the man was dressed in so many layers.

It was only when Edward won the fight of paying the entire cab fare that he felt something was off with the other man.

This was confirmed as they entered Étienne’s place, and the man was refusing to de-layer his clothes.

“Étienne, it’s hot as Hades here, and you’re trying to put on another sweater – alright what’s going on – did you get a shitty tattoo? Do you have scarlet fever?” Edward huffed feeling very annoyed at his friend, his hands reaching out to bat the sweater away.

It was like unwrapping a wriggling child, dodging, and weaving away from him, as Edward firmly grabbed one end of the scarf and unwound it from his friend’s face.

Étienne’s eyes were red, his nose was red and dripping, his cheeks flushed, and he looked as if he had just crawled out of the frosty pits of Niflheim.

“Jesus Christ you look like shit.”

“Thank you Eddy I appreciate the commentary.” Edward realized Étienne sounded weird because his nose was plugged. Étienne grabbed the scarf and rewrapped it around his face. He did however concede in removing his jacket.

“So uh can I assume we’re not going to the club tonight?”

“Excuse me? Obviously we still are, you flew out to have a good time and I’m-” Étienne had to pause to hack a lung out, “am going to show you a good time!” he did a dramatic arm flourish, over tilted, banged into the wall, cried out in pain, and then nobly righted himself, attempting a more subdued ‘we are totally going out and getting dick’ pose.

“No we’re not.” Edward said firmly as he finished taking off his boots, “We are going to stay in.”

“Eddy!! Even if I don’t go out you should go out, you didn’t come all this way to just sit on my couch and watch TV.” Étienne protested as the other man gently guided him to the couch.

Giving his friend a Look, Edward said darkly, “Do you think I fly my ass all the way out to your beautiful city to see some guy’s cock?”

“Well, you always complain that you can’t really do the same stuff in Edmonton so, yeah. I guess. You come here to get tail and I don’t blame you. Nor do I want to hold you back. And I don’t want you to get sick!”

Edward was busy firmly tucking a blanket around Étienne, ensuring that max cozy was achieved.

Étienne was still fussing, and unthinkingly, Edward leant forward and gave the other man a small kiss on the forehead to calm him down. It immediately worked.

“I’m not worried about that. Anyways. Just so you know. I happen to haul myself these many miles to see you. Since you are, you know… my friend. Now I am going to make you a hot drink, and then get take-out, ok? Wong’s is still open, yeah?”

Étienne nodded.

“And if you move from the couch for any reason other than going to bed or peeing, I will look not happily upon that.”

“Ok maudit mardeux.”

XXX

When Edward returned with take-out (he had gotten a lot, with the plan that the leftovers would tide them over for a couple days), he was happy to see that Étienne was still on the couch, the mug of hot tea in his hands, still slowly sipping.

“Eddy,” Étienne turned a plaintive look to the man, looking at the giant bags of take-out, “I’m suffering… can you get me some tissues?”

“Sure, sorry for not getting you them before I left.” Setting the take-out on the coffee table, Edward went in search of the tissues. He also figured the other man would want a personal garbage, and while he was at it, he also grabbed two bowls and cutlery.

Returning, Edward immediately worried as the other man was crying.

Étienne had moved out of his blanket fortress, one of the take-out bags were open, and before him was a round Styrofoam container, lid off, gently steaming.

“How did you know?” he asked quietly. Soft teary eyes looked at Edward; a look that could almost be classified as tender.

Edward looked at Étienne in confusion. “Know what?”

“That I love hot and spicy soup when sick.”

“Because you once wrote me five pages of a letter dedicated to Wong’s hot and spicy soup and how it cured you of the bubonic plague, Étienne.”

“I… I don’t remember that.”

“Judging from your spelling I think you were still high off soup or something,” Edward paused as he watched his friend happily slurp the soup, “However I greatly enjoyed reading it… even if it didn’t quite make sense, especially that weird part where you tried to rhyme in iambic pentameter.”

“I have no fucking memory of this. You’re bullshitting me right? Iambic pentameter? You’re gonna have to show me this letter.”

“Only if you promise not to destroy it,” Edward teased. “Plus, hold on let me see if I can remember.” Edward sat down beside the other man, setting down the items, and then moving to help himself to the food. “Shall I travel the world for a potion? Nay, for the cure exists in Montreal. Dew of the gods in comparison pales. For yea the cure is at Wong’s; Hot and Spicy.”

“Oh my god that’s not even good,” Étienne choked slightly, and then coughed, “That last part isn’t even proper iambic pentameter.”

Edward shrugged, “Hey, you at least tried. I nearly hurt myself laughing, and I mmmmmmaaaaybe hung that up on my fridge to look at for a solid week.”

Étienne narrowed his eyes, “You better watch out Murphy, I’m sure we both have an arsenal of blackmail material in our decades of letters.”

“When did one’s life and feelings become blackmail material, Maisonneuve?” Edward quietly teased, his gaze focused to the news report on the television. The low murmur of the day’s events filling up the strange gap between them.

Étienne blew on the soup and then took a slurp. Slyly he asked, “So that letter where you drew images of your favourite buffalo can be shown to anyone?”

Edward quickly looked at Étienne, “That image was only for you ok – not for the world!”

“But it’s so cute, if I had had a refrigerator at the time it would have gone on that. Though I guess I have one now I can put it up.” Étienne paused, frowned, “Actually, Eddy, you haven’t really drawn anything for me in a while. Why did you stop?”

“Because…” Edward was surprised to find he did not have a ready answer. Life got busy? He got more self conscious? It was something that had simply fallen to the wayside without him noticing? He had grown up and decided drawing was a childish thing? “Huh. I guess I just stopped.”

His friend was wiggling, that wiggle he did when he had one of his brilliant ideas.

“’Tienne, what is it?”

“Since I am so sick, and dying, you should entertain me by drawing me a story!”

“A story?”

“Yeah! One about… buffalo.”

“Draw on what?”

“Oh uhm, let me get you-“

“Just tell me. You stay put… but can we eat first?”

“…Fine… but you are going to draw me a story. Even if it’s in crayon, ok?”

“Yes sir,” Edward laughed, “So do I get any hot and spicy soup?”

XXXXX

“Once upon a time there was beautiful prairie, where the sound of the drums was the heartbeat of the land. Upon the prairie roamed the buffalo, strong majestic animals in whose footsteps sprung new life.”

As he drew the story, Edward narrated. The art items he found were pencil crayons and a pad of paper. The buffalo on the green grass was probably akin to a five year old’s drawing, but as he glanced over to his friend, who looked absolutely thrilled and despite suffering from a sort of plague, who was sparkling in happiness that this was even taking place, it was worth it.

“There was a very tiny calf, whose legs still wobbled.” Edward added little shaky lines to his badly drawn tiny calf, “who got separated from the herd.”

“Edward if this is going to be a sad story I want you to stop now.” Étienne interrupted.

“Shhh.” Edward settled in more, as he paused in his story telling to draw the next page. “This calf, whose name was Stardreamer, had gotten separated from the herd when following a butterfly to a small river. When Stardreamer realized he was no longer with his mother, he called and called, but got no reply.”

“Eddy…”

“Instead a wily old Magpie appeared, letting out a cheeky laugh. Stardreamer attempted to hide, and stayed very still as the Magpie flew down and sat upon him.

<Fear not little one,> the Magpie said, as it began to pick ticks off the calf, <I am a friend.>”

As the story progressed, Edward found himself adding more twists and turns, and what was originally supposed to be only ten pages it became thirty. Étienne’s full rapt attention was addictive, and the man’s slightly wet eyes when Stardreamer reunited with the herd he found endearing.

The story of Stardreamer continued throughout the week as the two of them, instead of simply vegging out and watching movies, found themselves cooped up as the snow piled up outside. The only times Edward left was to get more food and to shovel the sidewalk (which apparently dumbfounded Étienne, who informed Edward that clearing the sidewalk was the city’s job, to which Edward rolled his eyes and asked if the people of Montreal were suddenly missing arms and shovels, which then lead to a heated debate of the role of the city when it came to snow, a debate which kept popping up).

As the week progressed, Étienne got better, his nose less plugged, his body less feverish.

As the week progressed however, Edward began to display the same symptoms of illness that Étienne had had. Something he attempted to hide from the other man… rather unsuccessfully.

He had taken himself to the washroom to blow his nose, only to bang his elbow on the wall when Étienne’s voice spoke up from the other side of the door separating them.

<Eddy, I’m so sorry, I never meant to invite you over and then give you the plague.>

Cursing and rubbing his elbow, Edward was silent a moment, then said, <I do not have the plague, it’s allergies.> This lie was quickly laid to rest as he started having a severe coughing attack. One severe enough that Étienne forced open the bathroom door to stride in and sit Edward down on the edge of the bath, gently rubbing the other man’s back as the coughing fit eventually passed.

As Edward struggled to breath, his nose and throat plugged up, his eyes red rimmed, Étienne shook his head. <Looks like it’s my turn to take care of you.>

Blowing his nose, Edward sniffled. Rubbing his forehead he managed to croak out, <I’m supposed to fly out.>

<Hmmmm, are you well enough to travel? Are you able to rebook?>

Edward was too busy coughing to respond.

Edward shrugged, “I dunno.”

“If you insist on returning…” Étienne paused <I will simply have to travel with you. Make sure you don’t faint on the way.>

Looking over to his friend, his expression a mixture of surprised misery, Edward croaked, “You’d really do that?”

Raising one eyebrow, Étienne quietly responded <You are sick and my responsibility. I would be unable to rest at the thought of you travelling alone in such a condition.>

It was unclear whether it was the fever or something else that caused Edward’s cheeks to flush, as he looked away, his slumped shoulders relaxing, as he leant into the other man.

The only sound was his struggle to breathe, until finally he murmured, “I’ll rebook.”

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: montreal #icicles

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forevermyalwaysphff · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10

A/N: Here is the next the chapter! I’m so excited to share this with you, I hope you enjoy it

—————————————————

Alexa was holding her belly, laughing hard at Harry while she talked to him over the phone. Her heels clicked along the London cobble stoned street towards a local cafe she was meeting Hallie and Naomi at for lunch and well needed catch up with her close friends.

“Harry! Please stop!” She giggled uncontrollably, hearing his laughter mix with hers across the phone line. Suddenly, she grew quiet and listened to his purely infectious laughed that she found herself missing more and more with each passing day.

Harry was in the middle of exams, focusing all of his time on studying the materials he required to pass them leaving no time for a trip back to London to see Alexa until the weekend came along. For now, phone calls like this one would have to satisfy them until then.

“How’s my girlfriend doing over there? She seems to have gotten quiet.” His deep husky voice swooned over the phone.

Alexa halted her steps before cutting through a crowd of pedestrians to find a small pathway between to buildings to allow more privacy to talk with the prince. “You know, as I recall...” Alexa cleared her throat and leaned up against a red brick building. “I do not seem to remember that you actually asked me to be your girlfriend, only that you fancy me.” She teased him with a spreading smile forming on her lips.

“Is that so?” The prince chuckled lightly and sighed. “Alexa, you already know that you are.” She could tell that he was shaking his head at her, even over the phone.

“Say it then.” Alexa egged him on, wanting to hear it come from him first that they were indeed an official couple.

“Lex...” Harry’s voice paused for a moment. “I will, when I see you this weekend and get to see that beautiful smile of yours and watch those green eyes light up while you are in my arms.” He let the words sink in for Alexa to imagine. “Then... I will kiss those soft lips of yours until you beg me to stop. How does that sound?”

Alexa’s mouth betrayed her and released a tiny moan giving Harry all he needed for an answer. “I can’t wait til then....”

“Me too, babe.” He cleared his throat. “I will be back before you know it. I have already made you late for lunch with Hallie and Naomi.”

“Ok. Good luck on your exam this afternoon.” Alexa stepped forward back onto the side walk, seeing the cafe with in eyes view. “I know you will pass with flying colours.” She could not help herself, cracking a pun at Harry’s expense.

“Really Alexa?” He groaned deeply. “Flying... colours. You shouldn’t quit your day job gorgeous.” Harry giggled lightly.

“I am hilarious and you know it Wales.” Alexa waved at her friends through the cafe window. “Im at the cafe now. I have to go.”

“Bye, Lex.”

“Bye boyfriend.” Alexa smiled brightly, hearing Harry’s laughter before ending the call.

———————-

“Ok spill the beans, Alexa.” Hallie sipped on her tea.

“What do you mean?” Alexa lowered her head feeling the eyes of both of her friends Hallie and Naomi on her. It had been too long since they had gotten together with their busy schedules and lives so Alexa made time for them on a quick lunch break during the work week.

Naomi put her fork down and shared a knowing look with Hallie. “Oh come on. You have been glowing and smiling from ear to ear since the moment you have arrived.”

Alexa breathed in with a smile. It was true, ever since Harry and Alexa had unofficially officially became a couple she was in a state of constant happiness. Not only did she feel it, but it also showed on the outside.

“Alright, alright.” She beamed falling into a brief silence. “I met someone.”

Namoi and Hallie squealed with delight, but already knew that was potentially the case. “Who is he?! Where did you two meet? Have you two done it yet?” Hallie bombarded the blonde with question after question.

“Ya, what she said.” Naomi leaned in from across the table with a curious glint in her eyes.

“Hallie!” Alexa started to giggle at how forward Hallie was being, but she honestly was not surprised.

“Or I could just text Alice. I am sure she knows exactly who it is!” Hallie whipped out her phone pretending to type.

“No! No!” Alexa’s hand stretched out across the table pushing Hallie’s phone down. “I can tell you, god you haven’t given me a second to even answer!” She shook her head at her friends.

“We met at Eugenie’s engagement party.” Alexa smiled fondly at the memory of locking eyes with Harry from across the bar, the moment that started it all. “We took things a bit slow at least we tried too.” She tossed her head back in laughter. “But, now we are officially a couple and I haven’t felt this happy in a long time.” Saying it out loud made it feel more real for Alexa. She was officially Harry’s girlfriend and it made her happier than ever.

“Awe!” They said in unison.

“I can tell you are so happy, Alexa!” Naomi was brushing away tears of happiness.

“Awe Noe, don’t cry!” Alexa reached across the table to comfort her always-emotional friend that was a hopeless romantic. Maybe that was why she had become a wedding planner.

“I am sorry!” Naomi waved her hands in front of her face drying the tears. “You deserve to be so happy.”

Hallie giggled at Naomi. “Get a grip, it’s not like she is going to be ditching wine Wednesdays with us, right?!”

“Oh hell no!” Alexa covered her mouth to stifle a laugh.

“Well when can we meet the lucky guy?” Hallie pipped in and gave Alexa that look she had when she was about to freely speak her mind. “You know he better not be an aristo again, you just need an ordinary guy that is not complicated to wine and dine you.”

Alexa nearly choked on her glass of wine as Hallie stated what was on her mind. Little did she know that Harry was completely opposite of an ‘ordinary guy’ that was far from ‘not complicated.’ Hallie had always been the protective one in the group and was the tough friend to win over. She trusted her gut when it came to judging people and nearly every time, she was right.

“Easy, I don’t want to scare him away!” Alexa diverted Hallie’s comment and lightened the mood, wanting to turn the conversation elsewhere. “When do you leave on your trip Hal?”

The conversation turned away from Alexa’s new relationship as the three of the friends caught up with their lives with one another. Hallie and Alexa bonded the very first day of university. Having met at a freshman tour of the campus together, the two of them ditched the tour and found themselves sharing multiple bottles of wine. Later finding out that they were to share a dorm together and have been close ever since.

Naomi Edwards and Alexa’s relationship went almost as far back as Princess Eugenie’s and Alexa’s. Having been friends since elementary school, Naomi was a close confidant of the blondes. The Edwards family even took care of Alexa and her siblings periodically when their parents needed to stay at the hospital with Rosie. They always made them feel included in their family. Alexa would often make a point to go visit Naomi’s mother after her husband passed last year.

The thought of introducing Harry to her friends was weighing heavily on Alexa’s mind. The couple did not have much time to talk about their new relationship since Harry had to leave to go back to base the day after they became official. A lot of things needed to be discussed, but had been put to the side after a busy week waiting for the next time they would see each other again.

————————

Alexa was at Eugenie’s apartment in Kensington Palace with her mother Sarah, watching Eugenie stand on a little pedestal as the designer explained the dress he envisioned in his mind.

Eugenie had pushed back deciding on a designer until the last minute and chose to go with Peter Piloto, a less known London designer. After having a lengthy discussion with Princess Eugenie about the vision she wanted her dress to portray, Peter walked the three of them through the details of the dress.

“Can we make the back a bit open?” Eugenie twirled back around to face her mother and Alexa. “I want my scar to be shown.”

Peter took a step back with a tilted head as he thought of how to incorporate the Princess’s wish. “I could do that.” He stepped forward and offered his hand to allow the Princess to step down off the pedestal safely. “May I draw what I am thinking for you Eugenie?”

“Yes! Of course!” Eugenie nodded with excitement. Peter sat down inbetween Eugenie and Alexa as he started to sketch the dress right before them.

Alexa looked across to Eugenie and saw her face beaming with happiness and was almost in tears when Peter finished drawing the dress of her dreams. The style would fit Eugenie so well and followed the royal bride’s protocols closely. It was classical, timeless, but was completely what Eugenie would wear with her own personal flare added in.

“I love it!” Eugenie squealed with excitement. Her green eyes immediately darted towards her close friend Alexa and her mother. “What do you think?” The bride to be wanted their valued input.

“Are you sure that you don’t want more bling or lace? Not even a veil?” Sarah was slightly disappointed that it would not be as elaborate as she hoped for. Til the moment Peter arrived, Sarah attempted to persuade Eugenie to go with a well known designer. But, Eugenie was adamant that Peter was the right choice.

“If I wear a veil no one will see my scar.” Eugenie sighed. “I want that to be showcased… for anyone that had to go through the same thing as me. I want them to know that you can still be beautiful even if you have scars.”

Alexa smiled proudly at Eugenie’s decision. “I think that is wonderful, Eugenie.” She added in. “I know you will look gorgeous in this dress and if it is everything you want, than I love it even more.”

Both Eugenie and Alexa glanced over at Sarah hoping that she would agree. “Well, if you love it sweetie I am on board all the way!” The group cheered as everyone was now on the same level.

Peter nodded in agreement with Alexa. “It is a beautiful testament that I am happy to fulfill, your royal highness.”

“This is my dress!” Eugenie fondly looked down at the sketch one more time. “I cannot wait to put it on!” The group dissolved into a quick laugh at Eugenie’s thrilled excitement on the matter.

“All I need is your measurements and I will get started on it right away!” Peter spoke enthusiastically before laying his eyes on Alexa. “I believe it is your turn, maid of honor!”

This was the part that Alexa had not been entirely excited for. Eugenie was adamant that Alexa’s dress was to be designed by Piloto and that it would be fully covered by the royal family. “Come with me my darling.” Peter took Alexa towards the small pedestal in the middle of the room.

“What would you like to see yourself in?” Piloto asked Alexa. She simply shrugged her shoulders unsure of what to say.

“It’s Eugenie’s day and I am happy to wear whatever she wants me to.” Alexa got a subtle glare from Eugenie.

“Alexa, I want your input in this too. I mean you have to wear it!” Eugenie and Alexa shared a quiet glance.

“You tell me your ideas and I will add to it, but I don’t know what you want me to look like!” Alexa encouraged Eugenie to speak her mind. “This is your day, not mine!” She further added.

The princess sat back and looked up at Peter. “What are you thinking Peter?”

“A few questions first, Eugenie.” Peter cleared his throat. “Are we going with a traditional royal maid of honor look with matching white or ivory? Or would you like some color?”

“Traditional.” Eugenie nodded before standing up. “What I have been thinking of is something similar to Pippa’s dress in the fact of how the buttons come up the back, but I want it to be different than hers.”

“Hmm… do you like lace and maybe a tulle cover?” Peter eyed Alexa’s body as he circled around her.

“Yes.” Alexa nodded. “But not covering all the dress.”

“How about this.” Peter had done a complete circle around Alexa and stood beside Eugenie. “A simple ivory color with corded lace and a few organza flowers opening to a short veil laced train at the back. Buttoning up the back like Pippa’s but the front has a sweetheart neck line covered with a sheer lace and with small sleeves keeping with the traditional guidelines.” Peter thoroughly explained his vision. “It will be elegant, traditional, but also subtle in the design to not overshadow Eugenie’s.” Piloto added that in for Alexa, as he knew that was where her head was.

“I love that! I can already see you in it Lexi!” Eugenie smiled happily as she took in the view of Alexa standing on the little pedestal. “May you sketch a quick draft for us, Peter?”

“Of course!” Peter waved the girls over as they fawned over his talented sketch bringing the dress to life.

“Ooh Alexa that will look beautiful on you!” Sarah gasped in awe of the design.

“What do you think?” Eugenie grasped her quiet friends arm, wanting to hear her opinion.

“I like how subtly pretty it is.” Alexa smiled at the sketch before locking eyes with Eugenie. “If that is what you like as well, I will be happy to wear it!’

“Yes! Are you kidding me!” Eugenie started to giggle. “I love it!”

“Honey, there isn’t nothing subtle about that dress when it gets on that body of yours!” Peter chimed in making the group dissolve into a fit of laughter.

Peter got the last minute measurements he needed to start designing both of the dresses and was about to leave Kensington. The plan was to keep Eugenie’s designer under wraps until the morning of the big day to which Piloto had eagerly agreed to. “Once again, thank you for this opportunity for me to design this gorgeous dress for an even more beautiful bride, Eugenie.” He shook the Princess’s hand firmly. “And of course your maid of honor dress, Alexa.” Peter took Alexa’s hand in his, shaking it.

“Thank you Peter. I am so happy that I have chose you.” Eugenie was smiling from ear to ear. “I look forward to hearing from you and seeing the dresses in person!”

With Peter gone, Eugenie flopped herself down onto a chair. “That was exhausting!” She giggled as she repositioned herself. “But, I am so excited to see them. Lexi you are going to be stunning!”

“Not as beautiful as you are going to be.” Alexa assured the princess.

Sarah was walking into the living room with Andrew in tow, carrying two large binders of papers. “Oh no.” Eugenie sat up straighter knowing exactly what they were as her eyes landed on Alexa.

“What?” She leaned in and whispered to Eugenie. Seeing her dreadful expression caused the blonde concern.

“Sorry to crash the party, but I thought it would be best for Alexa to get started on the protocols and policies she needs to be aware of.” Andrew practically slammed the binders down on top of the coffee table making a loud thudding sound.

Alexa’s eyes grew big, staring at the binders of endless papers. She reached forward and grabbed one nearly dropping it onto the ground not realizing how heavy it was. “I have to know all of this?” Alexa’s worried green eyes glanced up at Andrew, watching him carefully as he sat down across from Eugenie and her.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat. “I have also booked a few etiquette classes for you with our advisor. With as many eyes that are going to be on you, we have to make sure you follow the protocols and etiquette acceptable of the royal family.” Andrew continued to build the fear that was growing within Alexa.

Her stomach started doing flips in all sorts of directions. When Alexa first signed up for this, she had no idea that it was going to be this much stress on top of it all. She knew a lot of eyes would be on her, but now they would be judging her every step, her every move.

“Also, I got word that BBC will be televising the wedding for the world to see.” Andrew smiled pleasantly as Alexa flipped through the pages and pages of protocols. “I hate to just drop this and run, but I have a meeting to attend to.” He rose from his seat and placed a light grasp on Alexa’s shoulder. “Send me your schedule and I will book those classes as soon as we can!” Andrew walked out with Sarah leaving Eugenie and Alexa alone.

“You ok?” Eugenie rested her hand on Alexa’s knee.

Putting up a fake smile on her lips Alexa turned her attention towards Eugenie and nodded. “Yes. More reading than I thought, but it will be fine.” Not wanting to worry her best friend.

“I can help you carry those over to Harry’s if you would like?” Eugenie offered. “I cannot believe that you two are now official!” She stood straight up from her seat with an elated smile. “I am so happy for you two! Have you discussed whether you wanted to be seated at the same table at the reception?” Eugenie started to bombard Alexa with questions causing more stress added to the pile. “Maybe you two will be outed as a couple by then and it won’t matter!”

“Uh, no we haven’t had any time to really talk further about anything really. What do you mean?” Alexa stood up and watched Eugenie walk with a bounce in her step.

“Well when the press find out that you two are in a relationship silly.” Eugenie gave Alexa a raised eyebrow. “I mean.” She paused briefly. “You are my best friend and will soon be announced as my maid of honor. Then to find out that you are dating my cousin who happens to be Prince Harry… it will be a big story!

Alexa’s heart sank in her chest. Harry and her had only recently decided to be an official couple and she had entirely forgot about the whole media thing. They had hardly any time to really discuss the matter further as Harry had left the next day back to base and had hardly spoken since their goodbye last weekend, other than short phone conversations here and there.

Harry was on his way back to London and the plan was for Alexa to spend the weekend with him at his cottage after she was finished more planning with Eugenie this evening. But, now the stress of it all was finally hitting Alexa harder than she expected.

“You can’t keep your relationship a secret forever. They are bound to find out about it.” Eugenie kept talking in the background as Alexa was caught up in her own thoughts as an overwhelming sense begin to build within herself. “But, let me know about the seating at the reception soon. I have to get it done in the next few weeks.”

“We will.” Alexa glanced down at the time on her phone. Harry was still a solid hour and a half away from Kensington, but all Alexa wanted was a little time to herself to regain her composure for when Harry arrived. She had been waiting all week to see him and only wanted to enjoy her time with him. “I think I am going to head over to Harry’s now. I wanted to get some dinner made for when he got home tonight.” Alexa turned around and grabbed the heavy binders. “Do you mind getting an RPO to take me over there?”

“Oh my god. That is the sweetest thing!” Eugenie cooed. “You are going to make dinner for Harry?” The princess swooned at the thought of how romantic it was. “I remember when Jack and I were first in a relationship… all the sweet little gestures and the good sex!” Eugenie started to reminisce.

“I better go though…” Alexa forced a smile on her face as she grabbed her bag and heavy binders heading for the door.

“Thank you again for doing all of this for me, Lexi.” Eugenie pulled her friend into a warm hug. “It means the world to me that you will be by my side that day.”

“I would do anything for you, you know that.” Alexa squeezed her tighter, but her mind was simply elsewhere.

“Have a good evening with Harry and I will see you Saturday night?” Eugenie gently reminded Alexa that they had plans tomorrow evening with Beatrice and Dave to a Harry Potter Trivia at a bar.

“Yes, that is the plan hopefully. I will talk about it with Harry though and see if he is up for it.” Alexa watched an expression grow on Eugenie’s face.

“Since when did you need Harry’s approval for hanging out with me?” The princess kind of snapped at Alexa, taking her off guard.

“Eugenie....” Alexa drug out her name. “It’s not that I need his permission, its the fact that my boyfriend is in the city for the weekend and I want to make sure he didn’t make other plans for us first before I fully agree to it.”

“Oh, ok.” Eugenie shrugged it off and placed a half fake smile onto her lips, slightly concerning Alexa.

Not wanting to make this more of a big deal, Alexa waved goodbye and followed behind Harry’s RPO Magnus who graciously offered to help her carry the binders for her.

Magnus opened the door into Harry’s home and held it open as she stepped inside. “Do you know when Harry is to arrive?” She turned around and asked Magnus wanting to know how long she had to cook dinner.

“Just over an hour, Miss Grey.” Magnus asked if she required any further assistance and showed himself out.

Alexa made herself at home and settled into Harry’s cottage. She opened the fridge door and searched through a nearly empty fridge wondering what she could cook for dinner.

——————

Harry entered his cottage and the immediate smell of a delicious meal wafted into his nose. He could hear something being chopped up with light music playing in the background as Alexa’s voice sang to it. The prince had no idea that she could sing so he quietly kicked off his shoes and stepped carefully towards the kitchen with his bag slung around his shoulder.

Rounding the corner, he was relieved to see that Alexa was still unaware that he had gotten home. Harry leaned up against the wooden pole and quietly watched her sway her body back and forth while wearing an apron, chopping away at some veggies singing her heart out to an Ellie Goulding song.

Her eyes lifted to find a shadow figure from the corner of her eye. Alexa’s head snapped up towards the figure to see Harry standing there with a big grin plastered on his face. An embarrassed Alexa ducked below the counter and cringed knowing that Harry caught her singing. “How long have you been standing there?” Alexa yelled out before bravely standing up to face Harry.

All she could hear was his infectious laugh ringing out. “Long enough to hear that amazing voice you apparently forgot to tell me about.” Harry locked eyes with Alexa the moment she stood back up from behind the counter. He was now casually leaning on the other side of the island counter smiling down at her.

“Well, welcome home.” Alexa giggled while walking towards her boyfriend. Harry wrapped his arms around her and lifted Alexa’s feet off the ground, hoisting her up in the air. Settling Alexa back down on her feet, Harry hastily wasted no time in locking their lips together.

“It is good to be home indeed, home to see my girlfriend.” Harry exaggerated the word and watched that smile he had been waiting to see grow on her lips. His eyes stole a few silent moments looking deep into those green eyes that he had missed while he was away. The couple had agreed to spend the weekend together, making the effort to spend as much time as possible when Harry was home in London to make this long distance thing work.

“I made you dinner, boyfriend.” A proud Alexa was beaming up at Harry.

“I smell it.” He sniffed the air and looked towards the stove. “Smells delicious, Lexi.” Harry looked towards the unchopped veggies left that Harry had interrupted Alexa working on. “Can I help you finish up?” He kindly offered to help.

“No, no.” Alexa was quick to reply. “Have a seat. I am nearly done.” She picked back up the knife and started to chop the vegetables. “Besides, I am sure you had a long day travelling home.”

Harry slowly sat down on the bar stool across from his girlfriend and watching her expertly cut the vegetables. “It was a quick drive home, not too bad.” His eyes scanned the kitchen and saw two giant binders full of stacked papers. “What are these?”

Alexa lifted her eyes up for a second to see Harry opening the binders and flipping through the pages. She silently looked back down not really wanting to get into how nervous she was becoming about the wedding.

“Protocols?” Harry’s deep voice asked as Alexa’s silence did not go unnoticed by the prince.

“Yep.” She replied shortly. “Do you mind grabbing plates and cutlery. Dinner is ready in about two minutes.” Alexa changed the subject quickly, but Harry could feel the stress exuding from her body.

————

“Wow, that chicken was amazing.” Harry pushed his plate away and leaned back with a full tummy. “You are an excellent cook.” He complimented Alexa who took her last bite of chicken.

The prince had noticed how strangely quiet she had become. Alexa barely spoke a word to him over dinner and often would catch her staring in a distracted trance as if her mind were elsewhere tonight. “You seem awfully quiet tonight. Everything alright?” Harry felt it was best to bring it up and see if he could help her in any way.

Alexa sighed deeply at Harry’s question. “Honestly, no. Not, really.” She confessed with a lowered head that Alexa then cradled in her hands.

“What can I do?” Harry offered sweetly, not liking to see Alexa this stressed.

“I don’t know, Harry.” Alexa lifted her head to lock eyes with the prince. “Burn those stupid binders for starters!” She started to giggle, but it faded all too quickly for Harry’s liking.

“I am sure I could arrange that.” Harry barked a laugh. “Why don’t we head over to the sofa and you can tell me what’s got you so stressed out?”

“I’d really like that.” Alexa’s heart skipped a beat seeing the kindness in Harry’s eyes in wanting to make things better for her. She followed the prince to his living room and sat down right beside him angled to face Harry with her legs on top of his lap.

“Comfy?” He asked sweetly to which Lexi nodded. “Talk to me, babe.” His blue eyes glazed over with evident concern.

“I was ok until your uncle Andrew brought those binders over to Eugenie’s this afternoon and started talking all about the policies and protocols I needed to know. Then he started on about the etiquette classes that I would have to take and I got overwhelmed and stressed.” Alexa breathed out. “This all comes natural to you and your family and I mean I know a few things, but to have to know those front and back is stressing me out a little. Let alone if I fuck up, it’s televised in front of the whole world… and your grandmother.”

Harry’s hand gently rubbed up and down her leg letting Alexa know he was there for her. “I can completely understand that.” He offered his support. “She would probably just giggle at you to be honest… well in her head at least.” Harry tried to lighten the mood, but a glaring set of green eyes told him not to.

“Then Eugenie asked me if you and I were going to be sitting together at the reception…” Alexa trailed off letting it sink in for him what the real issue was that was causing so much stress within her.

“Ah… I see.” He released a deep breath knowing where Alexa was leading.

“She started talking about maybe we wouldn’t need to decide since our relationship could already be out in the open before then and how big of a story it would be.” Alexa peaked up at Harry.

Harry pursed his lips together, slightly angry with Eugenie. He did not have the chance to have a long conversation with Alexa about their relationship since they officially became a couple. He had hoped that they would at some point, but Eugenie forced his hand now.

“I know we did not get a chance to talk before I had to leave last weekend.” Harry held Alexa’s gaze while taking in a breath, giving the prince a moment to think of where to start. Her green eyes were pleading with Harry to relieve her of some of this added on stress. His features softened as he caressingly held Alexa’s hand hating to see her this overwhelmed.

“My life…” he started out, “is complicated at best.” His head lowered to see their fingers intertwined. “My family is very much in the public eye whether we like it or not it is part of our job as the monarchs to be seen. With that being said, there is a very fine line between our public and private life which is often over stepped by the media. That means any relationship I am, at some point it is exposed and becomes public when it is meant to be kept private.” Harry spoke through pressed lips.

Alexa slowly nodded, reminding herself of certain situations she witnessed with Eugenie. Her hand interlocked their fingers tighter, holding on tight.

Harry lifted his head and locked in Alexa’s deep green gaze. “Our relationship will get out eventually if we continue this, Alexa. It would be naïve of us not to think that. This is why I like to keep things in private as long as possible so we can get to know each other on our own without the press breathing down our necks or harassing you.”

“I know it will.” Alexa’s voice was softly quiet.

“I need to be completely honest with you and you need to understand what is going to happen once it does get out. I hate having these conversations, which is why I left it last weekend without having it. I wanted to enjoy the fact that I get you all to myself for the time being.” Harry leaned down and kissed Alexa’s forehead as she closed her eyes welcoming the tender kiss. “It’s not meant to scare you, but you need to be aware of what being my girlfriend means.”

Harry watched her chest rise and fall uneasily, her breathing becoming harder as he rested his forehead against Alexa’s for a lingering second. Her eyes were still closed tightly as she listened to his voice.

“When people find out about us, they will want to know everything about you and I mean everything. It’s a media frenzy to be the first to figure out who you are and any little detail about our relationship. They will talk to people in your past, your old bosses, teachers, neighbors anyone to get a story out of.” Alexa’s eyes fluttered open before resting her head on the back of the sofa, keeping eye contact with Harry. “They will harass you, follow you, shout names at you to even get any reaction for a photograph. They can be ruthless and lack any regard or respect. The hard part is not reacting to it as badly as you want to. Don’t say a word, just keep your head low and keep going.”

“And there is nothing that you can ever do about it.” Alexa added, finishing off Harry’s warning of the press and their habits. “Don’t be surprised. I know a few things of how it works. I have been friends with Eugenie ever since I could write my own name.” Alexa giggled seeing the surprised expression on his face.

“I will never blame you if it is too much for you too handle. I don’t expect someone to willingly subject their self to all of this madness, it’s not always worth it.” Harry wanted Alexa to understand fully what it meant to be involved with a royal.

“It is though.” Alexa was quick to answer, surprising the prince as he snapped his attention back towards the blonde with a confused expression. “It’s worth it.” She rephrased her reply. “I mean, look at what Jack and Eugenie have… or your brother and Kate. Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy, and I know you can’t always intervene, but I can handle myself Harry.”

“Alexa… you aren’t understanding what I am warning you about. Do not be naive.” He dropped her hand and stood up hastily. How could Alexa be this naïve? It was all worth it?

“I think I understand just fine, thanks.” Alexa clapped back angrily, unknowingly setting off a switch in the prince.

Harry turned around with a menacing look and practically yelled at Alexa. “Do you think my mother understood just fine? Do you really think someone warned her about this fucked up life? Do you think she understood what she signed up for?” Alexa in drew a gasp unsure of how to respond to Harry’s sudden lashing out.

“Well we can’t ask her that now can we?” The prince added while making his point clear to Alexa. He turned his back towards her and walked a few steps away.

Alexa sat there frozen in time while a deafening silence fell between them. Before Harry walked away, she saw the pain circling in his blue eyes at the thought of how people had mistreated his mother. He was only having this conversation with her so Alexa fully understood what was going to happen, but he was giving her a quick out she was not willing to take.

Harry was holding his head in his hands supporting himself up with his elbows that wavered back and forth on the cool countertop. He had horribly lashed out at Alexa out of nowhere. All he wanted was for her to understand, but clearly she could not get what she agreed to when he asked Alexa to be his girlfriend. It was only a matter of time before things got out and with Alexa being Eugenie’s maid of honor, she would already be in the spotlight.

But just as he could not protect his mother from the cruelty of the press combined with royal life… he could not protect Alexa from it either. That part was already chewing him up from the inside. He had been thinking about it all week, how her adoring smile was bound to fade once the awful stories ripped her apart piece by piece as she came crying to him about it all. He would again helplessly hold and comfort her time and time again after she read the lies printed about her, even when he encouraged her not too.

Alexa slowly stood up from the sofa and drew in a breath. Her heart was aching for Harry knowing that his anger came from a place of fear for her. She took a quiet moment trying to see it all from his perspective and why he had lashed out. Seeing the muscles of his back through his shirt rippling through knowing that he was tense as he stood with his back to Alexa.

He felt a gentle hand slowly rub his back as he swallowed a lump in his throat. “Harry?” Alexa whispered cautiously, to which the prince did not reply nor move from his spot. She wrapped her arms around him from the back and leaned in, kissing the back of his shoulder before resting her head on top of him.

“I don’t understand what you must be feeling right now…” Alexa softly spoke. “I do know that there is no doubt in my mind that you would protect me as much as you could.” She let the words sink in. “I only said I understand what I am getting myself into and it is worth it to me to find out what there is between us because at the end of the day that is enough for me. You are enough for me.” His one hand reached down and placed it over top of her laced fingers across his abdomen.

Harry stood up slowly, lifting his arm up for the small blonde to cuddle in beside him. He was looking down as he caught her gentle green eyes peaking up at him with a small smile hinting at the corner of her lips. “Are you ok?” She quietly whispered as she searched in his deep blue eyes.

“Are you? I am the one that lost it on you…I’m sorry.” He apologized while tenderly caressing her cheeks with both hands. “I should never have yelled at you like that.” Through out this whole time, Alexa’s arms remained wrapped around Harry not letting go of him.

“I don’t like being yelled at, but I know where it was coming from.” She let Harry off the hook. “Your anger is only out of fear for me, but, I would rather you talk to me about her before it gets to that again. I am not saying you need to tell me everything, but know I don’t mind listening if you ever need to Harry. It’s part of my job to listen to people and help them.”

Harry’s finger lifted her chin to raise her mouth closer to his lips. “I am a lucky man to have you, Alexa.”

“Yeah, you are damn lucky.” Alexa’s laughter lightened the mood. He leaned down and captured her lips tenderly, sharing a deep kiss.

Breaking out of the kiss, Harry’s brow furrowed seriously. “And you are right, I will do whatever I can to keep you safe.”

“I know, because if you don’t I have a father and two older brothers.” Alexa casually reminded Harry while playfully squeezing his hips eliciting a smile she had been waiting for from the prince.

“Right…” He shook that thought right out of his head seeing the stacks of binders out of the corner of his eye. Leaving Alexa’s arms, he grabbed the heavy binders off the counter and looked back over his shoulder at his girlfriend. “Come with me, we are going to go through these awful things and I am going to help you.” He hoped that by helping relieve some of Alexa’s stress, he could make it up to her.

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that.” Alexa tried to convince him not to worry about it.”

“Grab a bottle of your favourite wine and get your get your cute ass over here.” Harry patted the spot next to him. “It’s the least I could do after adding even more stress to you tonight. Plus then you don’t have to read through all this shit.”

“Because you are the expert?” Alexa giggled and sat down close beside her boyfriend.

“Uh… yes.” Harry made a goofy face. “Ok, so first things first.” He opened the binder and started to summarize all of the protocols so simply making them less daunting for Alexa. She listened to Harry closely as he spoke while he explained with his hands.

“Ok, but when I walk down when do I have to curtsey and is it only to your grandmother? Or to your whole family?” Alexa nervously clenched her hands together as the prince stared into her eyes, imagining Alexa walking down the aisle behind his cousin Eugenie and how he was going to keep his bloody cool himself.

“What?” Alexa placed a hand on his knee. “Harry?” She looked into his glazed eyes.

“Shit…sorry.” Harry snapped out of his trance with a shake of the head. “Uh, no just to gran at the ceremony.”

Alexa rested her head on Harry’s shoulder and released a deep sigh. “Thank you for helping me with all of this. I know it must seem silly to you as these all come second nature to you. But, I appreciate it.” She leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

“It’s not silly. God I would probably tell Eugenie to pick someone else if they made me take classes and read through all of this awful crap.” Harry slammed the binder shut loudly, nearly dropping it on the ground with its heaviness making a thudding sound.

“Believe me after today, with the designer talking about the dresses and everything is making me more nervous about it all.” Alexa paused for a moment. “But, it will all be worth it seeing Eugenie so happy that day.”

Harry angled his head down at Alexa who found his shoulder again to rest her head. “You are a great friend. I am sure she appreciates it, Lexi.”

“I am wondering how I am going to handle seeing you walk down that aisle and keep my cool in front of my family. I pray to god that Zara is not going to be sitting beside me.” He confessed whole-heartedly.

“Umm… sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I think she is.” Alexa fell into a fit of laughter seeing Harry’s concerned expression knowing fully that Zara would only make matters worse.

#prince harry #royalfanficcentral #phff #prince harry fanfic #fanfic #forevermyalwaysphff #harry and alexa #chapters #chapter10

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juju-on-that-yeet · 4 years

Text

Haunting

Prompt: Whumptober Day 22, Hallucination

Summary: Dr. Iplier comes down with a horrible fever and starts seeing patients he wasn't able to save.

Warnings: Hallucinating, blood, gore, body horror, disfigurement, referenced death and suicide, seriously y’all read at your own risk

Tagging: @peribloke @tired-eldritchhorror (ask to be tagged!)

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy...?

The fever catches Dr. Iplier by surprise, though it probably shouldn’t have. He’s been running on empty for too long, overworking himself so much that his body is taking drastic measures to get him to stop. Now, Dr. Iplier is stuck in bed, temperature climbing, as The Host watches over him and tries to keep him cool – and Yandereplier hovers nearby, worried and unsure. The pair are trying to decide when they ought to bring Plus in to help out, and if there’s anything he can do that Host and Yandere can’t do already.

Dr. Iplier, though, isn’t aware of any of this. He feels like the fever is cooking him, overheating him from the brain out. It’s hotter than hellfire, and hell is where his mind decides he must be. Everything is dark, shrouded, indistinct, but there’s people appearing before him, familiar people. People who he shouldn’t be seeing, people who died a long time ago.

Patients, of all ages, surrounding him. Everywhere Dr. Iplier looks, there’s someone he failed. Elderly people who died in their sleep, in their beds at the clinic. Little children who choked on strawberries or had allergic reactions. Accident victims who came to Dr. Iplier mangled, already halfway to the grave. People murdered, shot or stabbed or drowned or even set ablaze before their time. Overdoses, unintentional or not. People whose times of death were already written in immovable red when they arrived, and died accordingly. People who might have lived, who almost lived, if not for bad luck, complications, misdiagnoses, mistakes that Dr. Iplier made. He doesn’t make them often, but he does, and they’re here, they’re all here, moaning and wailing and cursing him for failing them.

“I miss Mommy and Daddy,” cries a little boy, face swollen and red with anaphylaxis.

“I just wanted a fix, I wasn’t supposed to die,” yells a pale, convulsing man with bulging eyes and needle marks up his arms.

“I can’t leave my dad, I’m all he has,” gasps a teenage girl pulled from a car wreck, with brown hair and barely any face left to talk with.

“My poor wife, what’ll she do without me?” asks an old man, with purple-smudged eyes and two brain aneurysms that can’t be seen from the outside.

But Dr. Iplier knows they’re there. He remembers. He remembers every single patient, every single sobbing relative, every single flatlined monitor and clouded pair of eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he wails, “I tried, I tried, I didn’t want you to die either, I’m sorry!”

(“Dad, hey, it’s okay! What are you talking about!?”

“He’s hallucinating from the fever. He may not be aware of us right now.”)

The visions get worse, the people crowd around, they wail and scream to match Dr. Iplier’s volume. Wherever Dr. Iplier turns, there’s another accusing glare.

“I was having a heart attack and you couldn’t see it,” sobs a middle-aged woman, as pale as the corpse she became.

“You should’ve waited longer to discharge me,” groans a man, bones cracked and head dented after his still-bad hip gave him a fall down the stairs.

“I didn’t mean to,” cries a little girl, one eye and half her brain blown away from the pistol she wasn’t supposed to have access to.

“I thought I wanted to die, but you shouldn’t have let me,” says a teenage boy, monotone and sad, neck stretched too long and feet swollen with pooled blood.

“I know, I know, I know,” Dr. Iplier sobs, “I failed, I should’ve been better, I’m sorry!”

(“Shhh, shhh, darling, you’re alright, you’re safe.”

“Should we get Midori-kun?”

“The Host isn’t sure. Dr. Iplier’s hallucinations won’t go away instantly, even with fever reducers. It might be best to wait it out. Dr. Iplier has done as much with the two of us before.”)

If it were only this, it would be terrible but not unbearable. If it were only human patients glaring and screaming at him, only pairs and pairs of human hands grabbing his hair, arms, legs, trying to pull him down into hell with them, trying to draw him further into the fire, then Dr. Iplier might still have enough awareness to know that what he’s seeing isn’t real. But it isn’t just human patients.

It’s egos, too. Every single one of the many, many egos that faded away and died, forgotten by the fans, but never by Dr. Iplier. Never by Dr. Iplier, who sat by them and tried to make them comfortable until their inevitable end. Who could do nothing at all but sit with them and wait for them to die. They’re here, they crowd around like the humans did, but their faces and voices are familiar, their glares and wails and accusations hurt so much more.

“I was meant to make masterpieces,” laments Artiplier in his thick French accent, crying so hard he’s nearly incomprehensible. “Didn’t you tell me I could do great things? But it was lies, you lied, menteur, menteur.” His white shirt is now stained a multitude of colors as rainbows flow from gashes and lines across his body. He never looked like that when he was alive, he was never hurt so badly, but the fever heat of Dr. Iplier’s mind makes it so.

“I didn’t, I didn’t mean…” Dr. Iplier gasps.

“You never gave me hope,” mutters the deep, droning tone of Goopiplier, his once-white ectoplasm now red and brown with blood, holes and cracking dry skin peeking through gaps in the sludge. “You always knew I was going to die. You didn’t give me any reason to hold on.”

“I’m sorry,” Dr. Iplier whimpers, “Your time was red, I couldn’t–”

“I was so happy, and just like that it was gone,” Walter Melone Warfstache moans, purple moustache dripping purple blood that runs from his nose, eyes, ears. “Did Wilford forget me, too?”

“I don’t know,” Dr. Iplier whispers, unable to speak louder, “I don’t know.”

“What about my brother?” cries the tinny, high-pitched voice of Mini Bing. He stands on exposed joints, his chest is missing metal plates, still-sparking wires poke out of his arms. His sunglasses are shattered, and one eye hangs loose, attached by a thread of optic wire that threatens to snap at any moment. His other eye leaks tears to mix with the oil flowing like blood. “Why did I die so fast? There was so much we were supposed to do together!”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t, I couldn’t–” sobs Dr. Iplier.

“At least you both knew your brothers,” wails Weatherman Jim, his movements hampered by the mangled mess of ripped flesh and bone shards that is the entire left side of his body.

“We wanted to, we wanted to,” cries Newscaster Jim, his right side just as ruined and bloody, trying to hold Weather Jim close with his one good arm. “If you’d just kept us alive for a few more weeks, we could’ve!”

“There was nothing I could do!” Dr. Iplier screams.

“What kind of doctor are you!?” sneers the gruff, angry voice of the latest ego lost, Derek Derekson. He’s bruised so bad the skin is broken, blood is so thick in his mouth he’s hard to understand, both his glaring eyes are blackened and swollen. “You of all people ought to know that a son needs his father, and now mine’s alone because of you!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!” Dr. Iplier howls.

And he is, he is sorry. Derek was nearly as cruel as Dark and as callous as Wilford but he was still one of them, still an ego, still one of the many people that were supposed to call Ego Inc. home but never had long enough to do it. More and more egos, crowding, haunting with their familiarity, horrifying with their bodies; unbroken in life but somehow mangled in death. Dr. Iplier struggles against pairs of hands, dozens, hundreds, egos and humans both, trying to drag him under as he kicks and screams.

(“Dad, hey, calm down! Katarite-san, he’s getting worse!!”

“It’s time to get Plus. Go, The Host will stay with Dr. Iplier.”

“I’ll be right back, Dad, I love you.”

“Edward, can you hear me at all?”)

A new face appears before Dr. Iplier, one he’d never wanted to see again. He moans with terror, tears pouring as he stares into the gaping eye sockets of The Author. His signature shark-fin hair is flat and matted with blood, blood that waterfalls from his empty eye sockets, rustling the strips of dead tissue hanging over the edges and down his cheeks. All the skin without blood soaking it is bluish-white, nearly gray in places, the color and texture of a corpse. His hands are bloody as they reach out and cup Dr. Iplier’s cheeks, his teeth are bloody as he opens his mouth to speak.

“You left me,” he moans, yet in that sharp, clear tone that Dr. Iplier fell for, “You turned your back on me and left me vulnerable. I died because you gave up on me when I wanted to fix things.” His fingers creep across Dr. Iplier’s cheeks, catching tears, but the touch has no comfort in it. “You gave Dark an opening and he took it. And you lost me forever. The Host has my body and my memory, but he is not me. I’m gone. I’m gone. You let me go. You let me die.” His grip on Dr. Iplier tightens, nails digging into his head, like he means to wrench it around and snap his neck. “Do you ever miss me, Edward?” he snarls, “Do you remember what we had? Do you think about me when you let him fuck you like I used to? Does he taste like me? You moved on with him so nicely, you keep telling him you love him how he is now. Do you care at all for what you lost? Did you ever love me at all?”

“Isaac, let me go! I’m sorry, please, I love you, I love you, let me go!” Dr. Iplier wails, fighting The Author’s hands.

(“My love, I know what you’re seeing, and it’s not real! It’s alright, Edward, you’re safe, I promise you’re safe, please hear me!”

“Katarite-san, I brought Midori-kun!”

“Host, what was his temperature when you last checked?”

“Dad, Dad, you’re gonna be okay, can you hear me??”)

Finally, finally, The Author’s hands tear away from Dr. Iplier, but he can still feel the man’s blood on his cheeks, and he sobs, sobs…until a new voice, singsong and high-pitched, floats in from somewhere unidentifiable.

“Kagome, kagome, kago no naka no tori wa…”

“What–” Dr. Iplier gasps.

“Itsu, itsu deyaru, yoake no ban ni…”

“No, no, you’re not, you’re not–” Dr. Iplier sobs.

“Tsuru to kame ga subetta,” Yandere sings as he finally comes into view, “Ushiro no shoumen dare?”

“How!?” Dr. Iplier screams. “I didn’t, you didn’t–” His own tears cut him off.

Yandere stands before him with every injury he’s ever had in his skin, in his bones. His head is caved in, his jaw is cracked and hanging loose, one eye is sliced over and leaking like jelly out of the socket. His shirt is so torn to ribbons it doesn’t cover him at all, and Dr. Iplier can see his open ribcage, the bones bent away and snapped off, revealing his quiet heart and motionless lungs. The gash up his side that almost killed him is open again, and ropes of intestine spill out, flopping and twitching on the ground. Yandere holds one loop in his hand, twirling it absentmindedly, and his other hand is half-sliced off, a perfect diagonal across his fingers and through his palm. His arms are so cut up it’s hard to see the skin, his legs are crooked and bent in too many places.

“You’re right, I haven’t died,” Yandere says, words garbled from his shattered jaw. He smiles as well as he’s able, his tone is light and happy. “But I will. You haven’t failed me yet, but you will.” His good eye closes mirthfully; his bad eye shivers and rolls as it tries to copy the action. “One day you won’t get to me in time, or you’ll make a mistake, and I’ll die just like the rest of them.” He steps closer. “I almost did die, when I was a baby, do you remember? ‘Cause I do.” He reaches into his own chest with his bad hand, nudges his dead heart with the stumps of his fingers. “I remember how you didn’t even have the decency to tell me I was dying.”

“But you weren’t!!” Dr. Iplier insists.

“You thought I was, though, didn’t you?” Yandere asks. “You were so surprised when I survived. I could’ve faded away and you wouldn’t have ever let me know.” He drops the intestine in his hand and picks at the exposed tendons in his other hand instead, making his arm muscles twitch and jump. “Maybe you don’t care. Maybe you’d be happier if I was dead. Maybe that’s why you let me get hurt all the time.”

“Baby, baby, my baby, please,” Dr. Iplier bawls.

“One of these days I’ll die, Papa,” Yandere continues, still messing with his open fingers, “I’ll die horribly, I’ll bleed to death or get my head chopped off or get mangled in an accident, and it’ll be your fault. It’ll be your fault, because you’re my dad, and you’re supposed to protect me.” He reaches into his chest, squeezes his own heart until it squelches and pops under the strain. “You’ll fail me one day, Papa, you’ll fail me and I’ll hate you forever.”

“Please, no,” Dr. Iplier sobs, “Yan, I love you, I love you, please–”

(“I love you too, Papa, it’s okay, it’s okay!”

“I’ll give him an acetaminophen injection to reduce his fever. Host, help me keep him still.”

“Be careful, be careful!!”

“We’ll be very careful, Yandere. There’s no need to cry.”)

Too many hands, too many hands, pushing him down, pulling him under, deeper and deeper into that rising heat, the heat of blood and muscle, of bone marrow, of brain matter, of friction from cold hands scrabbling over each other to yank on Dr. Iplier’s hair and clothes, pulling, pulling, all the way down, into the hellfire, hotter and hotter and hotter –

(“The fever should start going down soon.”

“Is there any way he can be sedated?”

“No, it’s not safe right now. Maybe if his fever gets lower and he’s still hallucinating.”

“The Host…The Host understands.”

“You should both go and clear your heads. I can take care of him from here on out.”

“Wait, we can’t just leave him! W-We can’t–”

“Yandere, there’s nothing more we can do here. Our presence only made Dr. Iplier’s hallucinations worse, and we…we are in no condition to provide him comfort.”

“He’ll be alright, Yandere, I’ll make sure.”

“Come along, little one, The Host has s-some new books in the library he’d like to show you.”

“O-Okay…”)

Dr. Iplier, after what feels like years of heat and haze and moaning corpses, finally tires. His mind exhausts itself and Dr. Iplier finds himself dragged down a different way, not into hellish hands, but into dark and dreamless sleep. He welcomes it, welcomes anything to stop the onslaught of anguished spirits still clawing at his lab coat.

Finally, finally, he sleeps.

~~~

When Dr. Iplier wakes up, he’s still warm, but not sweltering like before. It’s still dark around him, but not foggy or strange. He looks around and sees nothing but the walls of his bedroom. There’s a weight in bed beside him, and he looks down to see Yandere, whole and unharmed, curled up and asleep, snuggled into his chest.

No spirits. No monsters. No dead. Just his bedroom, just night.

He sighs as he puts an arm around Yandere. Something nearby rustles and shifts, and Dr. Iplier looks away from Yandere to see The Host, rousing himself from sleep in the chair he’s sitting in. Perfectly normal Host, maybe a little bloodier than usual, but nothing out of the ordinary.

“Did I wake you?” Dr. Iplier asks, and realizes his voice is sore. Probably from his earlier screaming.

“Technically, yes,” Host admits. His voice is off, too. He probably cried earlier. “But I’m glad for it. I…” He pauses, unsure. “Are you alright?”

Dr. Iplier still remembers the hallucinations. He knows they weren’t real, but he can’t help but feel them all the same. He’ll probably remember them for a while. But Host is here, and he’s fine, and Yandere’s here, and he’s fine.

Dr. Iplier beckons Host closer, and Host leaves his chair to sit on the bed instead. But Dr. Iplier pulls him closer with the arm not around Yandere, and Host adjusts, laying next to him to hold him. The rustling and movement wakes Yandere, who clings to Dr. Iplier tighter.

“Are you okay, Papa?” he asks, voice small and eyes sparkling with tears. Dr. Iplier feels a pang of answering sympathy. He can only imagine how his own despair and terror looked from the outside, both to Yandere and Host. He kisses Yandere’s forehead softly and turns his head to kiss Host just as gently.

“I am now,” Dr. Iplier whispers, answering both his loved ones’ questions.

#whumptober2019 #no.22 #dr. iplier #markiplier fanfiction #markiplier #fanfic #kristin says stuff #my writing #hhhhhhhhhhh #it ends about as okay as it could've but like #idk #i just felt like going apeshit i guess

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jinxthequeergirl · 5 years

Text

All Monsters Are Human

Edward nygma x reader

Summary: Ed decides to show you how much he cares with a grand gesture that leads to an unpleasant series of events.

I got the idea from a story I once read called "The Dark,scary parts and all" by Danielle pagie (very good story from a very good book)

Warning: murder hinted at abuse

And Jesus it's a lot darker than I intended and probably dosen't make a whole lot of sense

(not my gif!)

~~~~~~~~~

You where always a strange kid. You like monster movies instead of whatever pretty princess movie was playing. Your dad didn't mind though you honestly believed he preferd you want a monster you instead of a Barbie.

When you where old enough to watch real horror movies. Movies like

Friday the 13th, Halloween, Texas chain saw, and scream you had basically studied them. Which your dad also liked you basically taught yourself how to defend yourself.

You also learned how to identify the type of stab wounds and cuts. That's why Lee had you stick around the M.E lab every time you would visit your dad.

"What are you doing here kid?"

Jim looked up at Harvey before looking at You and smiling. "Good to see you too dad. I come with Lunch!" You said tossing a Brown paper bag down on there desk with a smile. Harvey took it making room for you to hoist yourself up onto the desk.

"Thank you." he kissed your cheek before rumaging through the bag.

You took the case file from Him examining the pictures as Harvey handed him a sandwich.

You opened your mouth to speak but you phone interrupted you. You checked it, rolled your eyes and tucked it in your pocket turning back to your father.

"If I had to guess I'd say a small knife...scouple type."

"Your guess would be correct miss Bullock." you grinned looking up at the man who sported before you.

"What can I say Ed I have a knack for this stuff!"

He smiled at you. Ed and you had always gotten along ever since you convinced Harvey to let you visit every so offten. And it was extreamily obvious he was almost in love with you from the moment you met. Harvey groaned from behind you and turned to Jim. "My grandchildren are going to be some weird mix of riddle telling horror freaks aren't they?" Jim chuckled. Chowing down on his lunch as you continued to gush over the latest case. Your father cleared his throat loudly catching both your attention.

"Ed why don't you just take (y/n) to the lab and geek out about it there I'm eating!" you hopped off the desk and grabbed eds hand. "C'mon Ed..Man does nothing but work around death and can't handle a little talk." you teased before walking away hand in hand with Ed.

He looked down at your hand intertwined with his and practically melted.

There was another thing you liked about monsters. Classic monsters more so. They wanted love and that made them increadible human to you.

That was always your debate when talking about movies. That was always something that made you love Horror more. Edward found that fascinating. The fact that you could find a completely human thing in a non human being was increadible beautiful.

He looked at you from across the room as you examined the body with curiosity with a smile.

"How many-"

"Eight" you glanced up at him with smirk.

"Find any-"

"None."

Your phone buzzed to to life drawing you from your studie. Ed studied how your face turned to disgust and annoyance. "Anything wrong?"

"Uh no just that guy again...wont stop bothering me..." you sat your phone down in the counter and went back to the body After shaking away your clearly frightened look.

Ed knew about this guy two weeks now he would stop bothering you. And it clearly scared you. Every time you would check your phone your face would grow pale and your brows would furrow.

"Hey why don't we take a break?" you smiled. "Sure...I could go for some coffee anyways..." you pulled your gloves and apron off before heading out the door. "Coming?"

"Yes of course one moment I'll be right out!" He made sure you where far down the hall before grabbing your phone and looking at the number and name of the man and Writing it down.

He also scanned through the messages. Text upon text of you reapeadedly telling this man to get lost or leave you alone but he kept returning even making threats towards you at some point.

He scowled deleting the number and heading out of the lab to meet you. "I believe you forgot this." you smiled up at him taking your phone and placing it in your pocket. "Thanks Ed. So I was thinking we could-"

"Are you free tomorrow night?" he asked suddenly stopping you mid scentence. "Oh uh yea...yea I am.why?"

"How does dinner and a movie sound? I'll pick you up at around nine?"

A small smile slowly spread across your face. You'd be damned Edward Nygma was actually asking you on a date.

"Sounds like a plan!"

He smiled and turned back to go to his office.

The night of ed was a complet gentlemen. He took you to your favioret restaurant and a showing of your favioret movie. He was also completely charming and if he could have made you fall for him more And to top it all off.

"I have a surprise for you!"

"Oh ed you didn't have to-"

He waved his free hand. "I know! I know but I think you are going to like this!" you squeezed the his hand that you held and grinned brightly. "Alright."

"C'mon!" He happily pulled you behind him leading you down the street. Once you got to what you assumed was his apartment he stopped you on the front step and covered your eyes.

"Now no peeking!" you giggled and squeezed your eyes shut as you let him guied you through the building. You head a door open before shutting behind you again. "Now wait right here!"

"Can I open my eyes yet?" you asked anxiously. "Not yet..." you heard the sound of a chair dragging across the floor and what seemed to be muffled cries. "Ed what-" you opened your eyes to find the man who worried you so much tied to a chair with a now on top of his head. "Suprise!"

You gasped and held a hand to your mouth. "John!?.. Ed what...what did you do?..."

He smiled and made his way to you placing a hand on each of your shoulders leading you to stand in front of him.

The man in front of you was bloody and beaten. Just like you where before you broke up with him. You looked at him in fear,shock anger and hate all boiling in the pit of your stomach. He had done awful things to you and threatened you oh so many times. It seemed as though Ed was just returning a favor.

And he wanted you to finish the job.

You now stood in front of him with an expressionless look. He yelled at you through the cloth around his mouth but it was inaudible.

"Why Ed?" you asked not taking your eyes off the man in the bow. He had moved behind him picking something up from the table beside him and grined.

"I can start a war or end one, give you the strength of a thousand men or leave you powerless I can be snared with a single glance but no fource can convince me to stay. What am I?" you looked up at him as he made his way back to you.

"Love (y/n). Love made me do it." he leaned down and kissed you softly. You sighed melting into the kiss not realizing he placed something in your hands.

"All I had to do was find him for you! Now here he is!" you looked down at your hands to find a shiny kitchen knife. You glanced at your reflection a twisted smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

You stepped forward holding the knife high above the man ready to bring it down on him but instead twirled it in your hand and hit ed across the face with the handle and slashed the man free from his chair.

"You're a monster Ed!" you pulled him from the chair and hurried to the door while he was still down. "C'mon John!" you yanked and pulled him along side you but he moved just barely. "Oh come on (y/n)! You love monsters!" He growled sitting up.

"No Ed you are the worst of the worst!"

He laughed. "Is he really any better than me? C'mon (y/n) you let that man go free and he'll be after you all over again...maybe worse this time."

He was half dead in your arms but he was right. Once John was back on his feet he would hunt you down and kill you himself. But that didn't change what Ed was attempting.

You pulled the door open seeing as Ed made no attempts to stop you.

He smirked pushing himself up into his elbows.

"The most human thing about monsters is there desire for love."

You froze.

"And do you think he really loved you?"

You looked down at the man you attempted to carry. And remembered what had happened the night you had a conversation with the man at the bar.

"At least what I did for you here was affectionate! He beat you for even doing anything he didn't approve of.."

Upon him saying that he could see the last human part of you snap. The part that wanted to do the right thing the part that wanted to save him.

Your grip tightened around the handle of the knife as you shut the door. "(y/n) What are you doing?" John looked up at you weakly and worriedly.

"He's right!"

You turned to Ed pulling John up and holding the knife to his throat.

"All monsters are human in there own way..."

"(y/n) don't...don't do this!" you pressed it closer to his throat. "They all want something we want have the same feelings we want."

"(y/-" you slowly dragged it across his throat. "Acceptance...Revenge!..."

On the last word you pulled the knife straight across his neck causing him to choke on his own blood And dropped him to the floor looking at Ed.

"Love..." You made your way across the room dropped the knife and fell to your knees besides him and kissed him deeply.

#gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #the riddler x reader #ed nygma x reader

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shellsan · 5 years

Text

30 Day Writing Challenge

Day One: Explosion

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Pre-Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes, Pre-Tony Stark/The Winter Soldier

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or the MCU

Explosion

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Walking out of the tower, Tony mentally sighed in relief when he wasn't accosted by a group of waiting paparazzi or nearly bowled over by some journalist who wanted to hear about any of the up and coming news. Of course, just because he couldn't see them didn't mean that Tony was oblivious to the fact they were probably still there, laying in wait and taking photos so that they could spin some elaborate tale for the gossip magazines. But that was fine – he'd been dealing with that for years.

Lost in thought, Tony hummed the notes to ACDC's Highway to Hell lightly as he turned down the street, heading towards his favourite cafe to pick up a caffeine hit, deciding that he deserved it after a long day of meetings.

Of course he could have just made something fancy back at the tower – he was more than capable and had enough ingredients for it – but it was nice to get out for a change. He'd been feeling a little cooped up.

Turning another corner, Tony stopped all of sudden, eyebrows furrowing. Even though nothing really seemed overly out of place, there was something about this street that was screaming to his senses that he shouldn't walk down it.

Never one to listen to sense however – or turn away from danger – he casually messed with the iron man bracelets, calling for the suit just in case as he cautiously walked down the side walk.

Seconds after he'd reached half way down the street (the point where a normal person would have let down their guard, a mistake he was not prone to) there was a loud explosion and he found himself being blown from one side of the road to nearly the other footpath, ears ringing from the sound and eyes going fuzzy.

On instinct he reached up and winced at the feeling of blood from his head, crimson wetness spilling over his fingers as he reluctantly pulled them away from the wound. Great. Just what he needed.

Urging the suit to appear faster, Tony frowned as he pushed himself from the ground, refusing to wince even as one of his ribs moved in a way that it was not supposed to and his shoulder cried in protest from how he'd landed on it.

On guard, the engineer looked around, keen eyes searching for the cause of the explosion.

His eyes landed on a single man who was walking towards him, a mask covering his face and gear practically screaming 'assassin'.

Naturally.

Where the hell was his suit anyway?

“It's not safe here.” The man said.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he gave the man an incredulous look. Did he really think that it wasn't clear that he was the one who caused the initial accident?

“I'm pretty sure that's been made clear.” He settled on finally, and raised eyebrow (which ow, shouldn't do that apparently) as he gestured towards himself. “But that doesn't mean I’m going anywhere with you. My mother taught me not to go random places with strangers.”

He didn't feel the need to add that it was a rule he'd found strangely impossible to follow.

The man growled. “You will come with me regardless.” He informed, not a bit of doubt in his voice, as though it was just another fact.

Think again.

As the man moved to grab Tony, he ducked under his arm (ow, his rib really hurt now) and spun, aiming a kick for the back of the guys knee to hopefully slow him down but instead finding himself caught and then hauled over guys shoulder.

“It's not safe here.” The unknown assassin stated once more, like Tony needed to be told that a second time, before he turned and started down the street, turning into an alley and moving quickly through the back streets of New York, ignoring the endless complaints that Tony was throwing at him.

It was another forty minutes of travel (damn it how was this guy not even having trouble breathing at this pace while carrying Tony as well?) before they reached the warehouse district and found themselves set up in some abandoned building.

How cliché.

When he said so aloud, he only got a grunt and glare in response.

Not much of a talker, it seemed.

Unfortunately for him then, he'd kidnapped the wrong person if he wanted any peace and quiet.

“So, you gonna tell me why you've stolen me away? Usually this is the point where people start making demands, so I'm listening. What is it you're after? You let me live this long so you have to want something.”

The unknown man's eyebrows furrowed, although whether he was confused or annoyed it was hard to tell, so Tony was going for the safest option which was to assume he was both.

“Not kidnapped. Protection.” The man explained – or at least he looked like he was explaining something, Tony had to disagree. That didn't explain a thing.

Scoffing, he crossed his arms, wincing at how it jostled every injury he'd managed to get. “I don't know if you noticed, buddy, but these injuries didn't come from a couple rounds in the ring.”

Was that guilt on his face.

“Hydra wanted to you. Couldn't let them take you. Must protect the mechanic.” The man assured.

Tony sighed, somehow not at all shocked to hear that it was hydra who had mounted the attack. Although if what this guy was saying was true then he had him to thank for saving him from spending some time enduring hyrda's hospitality.

But some things were still not adding up for him.

“And I assume I am the mechanic then. What for? What's your name? Can you take off the mask so I can see your face?” Tony asked, curious to see.

The man looked a little confused. “I am the asset. The asset can not remove the mask without express permission for its handler.” It recited, voice more robotic than it had been previously and Tony wished he could take back the words.

Somehow he didn't think he was going to like this one bit.

“And who is your handler?” He tried, leaving the whole 'asset' shtick alone for a moment.

The man's eyes seemed calculating as he replied. “The asset's handler is currently the mechanic; Anthony Edward Stark. Primary goal: protect the mechanic.” He recited. But there was something different about the way he'd said it to how he'd recited the first lot.

“And who assigned your handler?”

“The asset did.”

The response was not at all what he'd been expecting and it took Tony a moment to form words before he gave in and gave the 'asset' and incredulous look. “Why?”

“The asset requires regular maintenance to its arm. The mechanic will provide.”

Automatically, Tony found himself glancing down at the man's arms to figure out what the hell that meant and that was when he noticed that one of his hands was metal.

“Holy shit, how did I not notice that?” The engineer breathed, fingers twitching as he fought the urge to just reach out and touch, cursing himself for getting so distracted that he hadn't noticed something that obvious.

Something that seemed akin to amusement flashed in the other man's eyes but it was gone before Tony really had a chance to examine it closer.

Forcing his mind back on track, Tony tried to figure out how exactly he was supposed to get around this situation. He wasn't about to stay in some dingy warehouse while he waited for someone to realise that he'd been kidnapped and he definitely didn't trust someone who called themselves the 'asset'. Like they weren't even human.

Apparently he'd asked the question out loud because the man seemed to go cold as he addressed Tony. “The Asset was a creation born of Hyrda, code named The Winter Soldier on mission. It is not human.”

The statement was said so simply that Tony choked a little on what he was going to say.

“Well uh, I don't know about you buddy, but from where I'm sitting, you look just as human as I do. But if you're one of Hyrda's goons, what are you doing helping me?”

The Soldier looked confused for a moment. “The Voice says that I'm malfunctioning in a good way. It suggested that the asset choose a new handler, a better handler. It approved of you as the choice.” He stated finally.

Sighing, Tony rubbed gently at his temples, ignoring the flare of pain in his shoulders. “So, this voice. Do you know what it is?”

“The voice has always been with the asset. Sometimes he would go quiet for a while after the asset was wiped, but he would always come back. Hydra has no knowledge of the voice. The voice says that if they knew, they would get rid of him.” He states, before his voice goes a little soft and Tony almost melts at the slightly lost and guilty look on the Soldier's face. “The Asset likes the voice. Didn't want it to leave, so it kept quiet. Are you unhappy with the asset?”

Tony's blood froze at the implications he could draw from that sentence, and he cursed himself for his lack of tact. “No. You did fine. But listen, I can't call you the asset. It sounds wrong and it's just not my speed so we need to think of something better.” He suggested, trying to switch gears.

The Asset looked even more confused. “You wish to call the Asset by another name? It is your right as handler.”

Sighing, Tony did his best not to look exasperated. It wouldn't do him any good anyway. From what he'd managed to gather so far, the man in front of him was an unwilling assassin who worked for hydra but managed to break their programming somehow – it probably had something to do with this voice in his head – and was now on the run and had chosen Tony to be their 'handler' or in this case, director of sorts?

He was too tired for this shit.

“I want something to call you by that seems less demeaning. Is there something you prefer to be called?”

“Soldat.”

Tony shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

The soldier seemed to deflate at that and Tony groaned, not bothering to pretend he wasn't frustrated. “Alright how about this. You said that your code name was The Winter Soldier, right? How does Winter sound?” He tried.

'Winter' was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider it before a small smile formed on his face. “Winter. It is acceptable. The Voice also seems happy.”

Nodding in satisfaction, Tony relaxed slightly. “Alright, now that we have that covered, how about we consider getting a move on? We can't stay here indefinitely, and I do have to get back to my company.” He pointed out.

Winter looked unsure. “You are safe here. I must keep you safe.”

Tony shook his head. “You can't keep me here in an attempt to keep me safe. I have a life and the world doesn't stop turning because you want to keep me safe.” He informed, trying to be gentle.

Biting his lip, Tony considered his options. “You can come with me? To keep me safe?” He offered.

It was a ridiculous thing to offer. He didn't really know this man and for all he knew this was just another ploy from Hyrdra in order to gain his trust and access his tower. But a larger part of him ached to help the man. Winter was alone with just the voice in his head to help keep him sane and safe from Hyrda's clutches, and Tony would be damned if he would let them get their hands on him again.

He knew a little something about being an unwilling prisoner after all, and he'd wish that upon no-one.

“Your terms are acceptable.” Winter stated finally, moving to pick Tony up from the crate that he'd spent the better part of two hours sitting on at this point only to tilt his head when Tony glared at him.

“You aren't carrying me again.”

“You can't walk yourself. You are injured.”

It was a logical argument that would work on anyone else, but Tony Stark was nothing if not stubborn.

“I'll manage.”

Winter frowned. “You will hurt yourself further.”

“Worth it.”

“I cannot allow you to do that. You're health and safety is my directive.”

“Still a nope.”

Winter seemed to accept it after a moment of silence and Tony relaxed, giving himself a moment before pushing himself onto his feet. “Alright, lets go- what the hell do you think you're doing?”

Something about Winter's facial expression in that moment was borderline smug as he held Tony carefully princess style in his arms, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“The Voice explained that if you were going to be difficult it would be easier to just pick you up. You are not strong enough to break free.” It was said as a statement of fact, although the level of satisfaction he seemed to be feeling was not nearly warranted in Tony's opinion.

He struggled for a moment before hissing when it moved things in the wrong direction, finally letting himself settle down with a pout on his face as he pointedly refused to look at Winter now out of spite.

This didn't seem to concern him in the least.

“At least let me take off the mask. You stick out like a sore thumb with it on even in the back alleys.” Tony grumbled after a few moments of silence.

Winter tilted his head. “I told you. The handler may remove the mask if they wish.” He reminded.

Huffing out a laugh, Tony sighed. “Gotta do all the hard work around here.” He teased before shifting a little to undo the clasps of the mask and gently pull it off.

There was a moment of silence after Tony saw the face of the man who was carrying him before he came back to his senses, fingers clutching the mask tightly as he breathed out in disbelief something he never thought he would say.

“Holy shit, you're Bucky Barnes.”

#fanfiction #winter iron #pre-winteriron #winteriron #bucky barnes #tony stark #not canon compliant #posted on AO3 and FFN as well #mcu #mcu fanfiction #30 day writing challenge #day 1: explosion

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strawclette · 5 years

Text

Sorrow of the Arrogant

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood

Characters: Pride (Selim Bradley), Mrs. Bradley, Wrath (King Bradley)

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Words: 2,122

Summary: When Pride grieves over the death of his sister, his mother comes as a wonderful source of comfort.

AN: So this is the first time I’ve ever written a fanfic, so it might be a little wonky. Tell me what you think (I’d appreciate constructive criticism, not just rude comments). It’s not beta’d so there might be a few grammar/spelling mistakes in there. If you find anything, just tell me so I may fix it. Also I had no idea what the title should be, haha.

She’s dead.

Sitting up in bed, Pride stared blankly at the wall across from him. There was a decently sized bookshelf with an unusual variety of children’s novels, alchemical texts, and other assorted non-fiction books. Next to the shelf was a wooden desk where he kept journals full of random drawings of alchemic circles and his favorite alchemist Edward Elric. Absently, he remembered he’d need to buy a new journal since the one he currently used was almost full.

How?

The Flame Alchemist. A young Colonel, the hero of Ishval and a growing thorn in their side. A possible human sacrifice, according to Wrath. He was of use to them, as irritating as he was, and with the number of allies he kept close, it would be stupidly easy to manipulate him into doing whatever he wanted. Letting him walk away was the right choice. He could be of use to Father. That was all that mattered. Wrath did the right thing. But, why…

Why didn’t you stop him? Why did you let her die? You were there, you could have done something, so why didn’t you? You could have taken control of the situation, sent the Colonel and his mutt and the armor boy away. She didn’t have to die.

Lust.

His shadows shivered inside of his container, trembling with… something. He was not angry. He could not be angry. Grabbing onto the feeling, Pride tried searching for what it was. He couldn’t stand this feeling. Maybe if he could figure it out, it would just go away. No. Pride wasn’t stupid. He knew what this was, what it had to be, but acknowledging it was impossible because if he did he might… he might…

Hiccuping a sob, the oldest homunculus quickly covered his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut tight to hold back the tears threatening to fall. He couldn’t cry, he just couldn’t. He was Pride the Arrogant, the first homunculus created by Father, he was much too old to be crying like some weak human child. But it soon became clear that trying to choke it down would be a wasted effort as he found his body wracked with grief. An immense sorrow forced tears from his eyes and shook his body with continuous sobs. It was such a disgusting feeling. The thought of any of his siblings seeing him in such a pitiful state had his shadows curling in shame inside of his container.

Perhaps it wasn’t just shame. They writhed beneath his skin, shaking his container in times with the sobs that escaped him. Grabbing a pillow, he buried his face to try to muffle his crying. What would Wrath think if he saw his eldest brother in this state, while he had just finished so calmly informing him of their only sister’s death? After what he did, or what he didn’t do, being pitied by Wrath would be disgraceful.

In this state, Pride failed to hear a quiet knock at his door, neither did he notice the concerned older woman who entered. She had heard him crying, or perhaps it was a motherly instinct that had compelled her to come here. The reason didn’t really matter.

“Selim?”

Pride startled, quickly looking up from his pillow towards the door. Illuminated from the hallway lights, his mother’s silhouette stood cautiously in the doorway, her brow puckered and a worried frown on her face. There was a hint of confusion, but it seemed that why he was crying was less important than her intense need to comfort him, at least for the moment. Stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind her, she briskly walked over to his side, turning on his bedside lamp before sitting down beside him. Pride struggled to keep his composure, but it was a losing battle. As soon as her eyes met his, he broke down again.

Scooting closer, she scooped his small body into her arms, running her fingers through his soft raven hair as she gently shushed him.

“My dearest, what’s wrong? What’s gotten you so upset?” she asked, pulling him tighter against her.

His head resting on her breast, Pride focused desperately on the steady, if slightly quickened, beat of her heart. After gulping down a few shaky breaths, he managed to stutter out the only excuse he could think of for his confusing behavior, “I-I ha-had a bad-a bad dr-dream.”

“Oh, oh you poor dear,” she cooed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. As he continued to shake with violent sobs, she began to hum softly to him, an old song she remembered her own mother singing to her whenever she got upset when she herself was just a child.

Mrs. Bradley grew more concerned the longer he cried. What kind of awful dream could he have had to be this upset? Selim never cried, not even when he got hurt. It was bizarre. But she would stay and sing as long as he needed. It was a good twenty or so minutes before he even began to calm down, but somehow she knew he wasn’t feeling much better. At least now she could try to figure out the details of this dream.

“It must have been an awful dream,” she began, stating what she thought was rather obvious, “whatever was it about?”

“I-” Pride began. He hesitated for a long time. It wasn’t like he could tell her the truth, and if he was being completely honest with himself he was far too exhausted to even attempt to create some story. Perhaps it would be easier to just pretend like he didn’t want to talk about it. She would understand, and it would give him a chance to come up with something convincing for the inevitable moment when she would ask him again tomorrow. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled pathetically.

Unsurprisingly, she seemed unsatisfied with that answer, but he knew she wouldn’t pry anymore. He had cried enough for one night.

“Alright,” she relented. After giving him another tight squeeze, she brushed back the hair on his forehead, compelling him to look up at her face. Her wrinkles looked even more defined as she frowned, but she quickly hid her worry with a gentle, calming smile. “It’s okay, dear, it was just a dream, after all. It’s alright.”

Letting out a hiccup, he pushed his face against her shoulder, nuzzling the soft fabric of her shawl. She gave his back a soothing scratch.

“Do you want me to stay here until you fall back asleep?” she asked.

Pride hesitated. He did want her to stay, but then Wrath would get suspicious. He might come by to see where his wife had gone, and if he saw Pride like this…

“No,” he finally answers. “I’m… I’m okay.”

His mother looked unconvinced, but she nodded. Pulling away, she leaned down to give him one last kiss before wiping the still drying tears from his eyes. “Well, you know you can always come find me if you change your mind,” she told him.

Pride smiled gently. “I know, mother. I will,” he said quietly.

Nodding again, Mrs. Bradley stood up from his bed. Walking back over to his door, she gave him one final look before stepping out and shutting it with a quiet click. As Pride slipped back into his sheets and closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but admit that he did feel a little bit better. Just a little. Pushing away any more thoughts of Lust, he managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

“There you are,” Wrath said as his wife stepped into the room. Her face was lined with worry, and the homunculus thought with a hint of anger that Pride had something to do with it. Why did his eldest brother always feel the need to worry her? Perhaps he hoped to send her to an early grave.

“Yes, I’m sorry to keep you waiting, love,” she smiled. Oh, how her smile made all the anger melt away. He couldn’t help but return it as she walked over and sat down next to him on the couch. “It was Selim, he said he had a bad dream.”

“A bad dream?” he asked, curious and once again angry.

“Mhm, he was so upset that he was crying. I must have held him for at least half an hour before he calmed down. The poor thing,” she sighed. She brought one hand up to her cheek, gazing at the floor and no doubt thinking of her precious son.

Wrath grit his teeth, but forced himself to calm down. Wait, did she just say he was crying? That was… odd. “He was crying?”

“Oh, he was. Absolutely inconsolable. I can’t even imagine what kind of dream would have caused him to behave that way,” she fretted.

That was really odd. In fact, it was downright disturbing. The image of his older brother sobbing like a baby might have made him laugh if his wife wasn’t so worried over him. Because of that, it just made him angry. Wrath considered marching into his brother’s room to confront him when another thought occurred to the youngest homunculus. Envy and Gluttony had also been rather upset by the news of their sister’s death. The shapeshifter may not have been crying, but he had clearly been upset. It was almost hypocritical, demanding revenge on the Flame Colonel when Mustang was so much more useful to them alive. Envy almost sounded like those irrational, pitiful humans he claimed he so despised. Not that Wrath would ever say that to his face.

Was it possible that Pride was crying over the death of his sister? It was strange to imagine his brother having any kind of emotions at all, given his constant need to insist that he didn’t have any.

The thought that Pride might actually be feeling grief over this left Wrath feeling a bit conflicted. He didn’t feel particularly bad about letting Lust die, no, that wasn’t the problem. He had always imagined his eldest brother as nothing but cold and ruthless. Was it possible that he actually cared? And if that was the case, then was it possible he could care about…

Turning his head he looked at his wife’s profile. She still looked worried, but that wasn’t surprising. No doubt she would lose sleep over this incident, but in the morning all would be well when Pride would bounce around the dining room as though his so-called dream never happened. She might pry, but it would be forgotten quickly.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Wrath put an arm around his wife’s shoulder and pulled her close. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. Nothing to worry about,” he told her.

The reassured smile she gave him told him he had said exactly what she wanted to hear.

Just as Wrath predicted, Pride was back to his usual self. He ate breakfast with a smile on his face, and when Wrath stood up to leave for work he wrapped his arms around him and made him promise to try to get back from work as soon as possible.

Mrs. Bradley smiled happily at her son. She was glad he was feeling better. It had been hard falling asleep last night, and she had woken up several times in the night. A few times she had even walked over to peek into her son’s room, just to make sure he hadn’t woken up from another nightmare.

After finishing breakfast, they both retired to the family room. Since it was a Saturday, Selim got a break from his lessons. His tutor was a strict woman but was kind enough not to load her student with too much homework. It meant he could spend a lot more time with his mother. Plucking a book from the shelf, she sat down on the couch next to her son. He leaned against her as she read.

As his mother spoke, Pride didn’t bother listening to her words. His mind was too preoccupied. That morning it had occurred to him that there was no reason to grieve over his sister’s death because she wasn’t gone forever. Once Father finally achieved his goal and became a god, he would certainly bring her back. They could be a family again.

Smiling at the thought, he glanced up at his mother, beaming at her. Maybe Father could make another exception, for Wrath’s sake of course. When she finally noticed him looking at her, she paused in her reading to give him a bright smile.

#I just wrote this cause I want Pride and Mrs Bradley to interact more #I love you mrs bradley!#hope it's alright #Pride fma #Selim Bradley #Mrs Bradley #Wrath fma #King Bradley #fma #fmab #fanfiction #pride loves his mama #it feels like the pace is too fast #but I also didn't want to write a whole darn book #so sorry if you think things happen too quickly #still took me a long time to write #I have no patience #I just wanted to get things DONE #my posts

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