#I’m crying out of joy and relief and heartbreak and so many emotions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neoculturetravesty · 3 years

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We met in online class - Part 9

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, fist fight, a character has Covid-19 Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: So proud of the boys for breaking records with Hot Sauce 🥺💛 Also, Eid Mubarak to all who celebrate!

Renjun is ashamed to be surprised, but his friends remain true to their word.

That night, Renjun slept for what he’s sure was a good fourteen hours. Because by the time he woke, it was way in the afternoon. Jaemin was already back from his shift and Jeno was almost halfway through his. Jisung had insisted that Renjun get some more rest before he had to take over. It was a tiny bit disconcerting to have Jisung hovering over him the entire day to make sure he was eating and feeling okay, but Renjun had to admit--this was exactly what he needed. He didn’t like who he was when he was alone.

The boys had apparently even created a dedicated group chat where they would post updates and a list of things that were required at the hospital. Not that there was much required, anyway. But the boys would make sure that at the very least, Renjun’s mom had fresh clothes and home cooked food everyday while she couldn’t get out herself. Jaemin had even taken Renjun’s phone and gotten it fixed so he at least had a proper screen instead of a cracked one.

Even when Renjun was sure that he could take over on his own, the boys wouldn’t allow it. On many occasions, he had just stayed by them during their turns, thankful for their company and their friendship. Because who else in this world would spend their semester break in this fashion? He’s pretty sure they had plans; but they had forsaken them all to be there for him.

Renjun has no idea how it happens, but slowly and surely, things start to get better. He’s pretty certain it has to be some sort of a miracle. Like a little break of sunshine had finally decided to shine on him through the dark clouds. Like somehow, his guardian angel had decided that it had slacked off for long enough and now it should give Renjun a break. Because one day, the doctors tell them that Renjun’s grandmother will be a lot weaker for the next few days to come… but with a lot of care and attention, she should be ready to go home. They echo Renjun’s thoughts and tell them that it is nothing short of a miracle, but also that he should be thankful that his grandmother is still young and has a fighting spirit.

The day she is taken off of life support and brought into another room with a window through which he can see her, Renjun can’t hold himself back. He hugs onto Jaemin so tight and cries happy tears, and Jaemin holds him back just as strong, though he’s sure that he’s so overwhelmed by relief that he’s putting all of his weight onto the boy. But Jaemin doesn’t relent and holds onto him and lets him cry tears of joy into his shoulder.

The boys head home that night and laugh till they cry and celebrate Renjun’s grandma’s life and health. They eat like they had been hungry for days and slump their shoulders in ease like they had been keeping them tense for too long. They laugh and they sit together and keep letting out long sighs of relief, as if each breath was undoing a knot in their chest. It’s a sweet, victorious sort of a happy moment, and it is Jeno who has to remind them they need to focus now more than ever so that Renjun’s grandma can get her strength back and finally test negative. And it is an important reminder because the new semester is about to begin soon and given classes, they will have to redo their hospital visit schedules.

At the very least, they learn that the new semester would begin online, because the sudden surge in Covid cases had led them to another lockdown. Renjun’s not sure whether he should be happy or upset about it. On the one hand, he thinks this lockdown should’ve happened earlier so his grandma would’ve never gotten sick in the first place. On the other hand, he is happy that his grandma would now be safe and recover comfortably.

When classes begin and Renjun finds all his housemates at home, his heart drops a little and he wonders if he should just skip today. But an amused Jeno mutes himself during his online class and stops him.

“You have other friends, too, you know?” Jeno cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, but I’m sure they have classes, too. Plus, the four of us have been doing this from the beginning, so… I don’t know…” Renjun says, rubbing the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous about leaving his mother and grandma on their own without help. But Jeno looks at him like he’s talking gibberish.

“Dude. Not the four of us. All seven of us have been doing this from the very beginning.” Jeno says, eyebrow still cocked, looking at Renjun like he’s sure he’s lost his mind.

Renjun looks up and for a moment, he is sure his face looks dumb. Because if the buffering wheel was a human expression, Renjun’s certain he’s wearing it now. “All… seven?”

“Do you even check the group chat? Chenle and Mark and Donghyuck. They’ve all been doing their duty from Day 1, you idiot. How else would the rest of us come home so early?” Jeno scoffs and laughs a bit, knotting his eyebrows at his clueless friend.

For a moment, Renjun is silenced. Because he doesn’t know how to process this information. He feels a swell in his chest. A sort of happiness that only true friendship brings. But at the same time, he feels an incredible pang of guilt, because for one, he is an asshole that keeps underestimating the said friendship. And for the other, he had done absolutely nothing to be deserving of such love.

“Dong… Donghyuck, too?” Renjun asks and he feels his heart breaking, though even in this surreal moment of realization, he recognizes how strange it is to feel heartbreak over something like this.

“Of course, you idiot. Donghyuck was the one that stayed at the hospital the entire first night when you were asleep.” Jeno tells him and smacks him lightly on the head.

And for the first time in his life, Renjun actually feels what it is like to have his head physically hang in shame. “I don’t deserve it.” he sighs.

“I really don’t understand you sometimes, Huang Renjun.” Jeno says and turns his attention back to his class.

“What do you mean?” Renjun retorts.

“Just because friends have a dumb fight, doesn’t mean they abandon each other in times of need.” Jeno states like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

It should be simple and obvious, everything Jeno has said. But to Renjun, it is groundbreaking. Because Renjun wasn’t used to being loved and cared for without condition. In his dark and convoluted view of the world, everything was give and take. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. But here they were--his friends that were shattering all of those dumbass beliefs. Telling him that although he had been a grade A asshole and punched them in the face, they understood that he was going through some shit, and that taking care of his sick grandmother trumped all other childish grudges. Renjun realizes that perhaps, he was the most childish out of all his friends. Somewhere in his turbulent childhood, he might have skipped a lot of emotional development. Because why else would the kindness and love of his friends shock him so?

Jeno peeks over the top of his laptop and watches Renjun deep in thought, paying no attention to his own class. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Jeno says knowingly.

And that’s all Renjun needs to hear before he slams his laptop shut and makes his way out.

The fact that Renjun is probably a few steps behind in his emotional development is solidified when he sits next to Donghyuck on a park bench and suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to say.

The rush of blood and adrenaline he had felt in his veins leaving his house for his apology tour seemed to have faded when he saw his friend’s face. Donghyuck had been sitting next to Renjun’s father, but that hadn’t been the bothersome part. It was the fact that his friend was sitting there for him, but with a black eye that Renjun had given him.

In the grand scheme of healing black eyes, Donghyuck definitely looked less hurt than the last time Renjun had seen him. The purples were mostly gone, leaving behind hues of yellow and a speck of blue here and there. Though he may have been healing, there were more colors on him than before and that’s what made him look worse. That’s also the part that makes Renjun feel most ashamed. His friend was here for him even though he looked like shit thanks to him.

Renjun is sure that on the list of top ten assholes of the world, he would find his own name on top.

But sitting next to Donghyuck outside in the fresh air, he has no idea what to say. He thinks real hard and decides to start in the safe zone.

“Did the guys tell you? About my grandma?” he asks.

“Um, no. It was Jimin.” Donghyuck replies awkwardly.

Renjun nods. “I, uh… I told the guys like a day later, though. Did you tell them before I did?”

“No, um… I was at a party with the 127s… I didn’t see her text till like the next day either, so…” Donghyuck trails off.

Renjun nods again, then swallows. It’s so strange, how awkward this all is. It is unsettling because Donghyuck is the least awkward person he knows, and he hates that this weird zone is where their relationship seems to be heading.

Not if he can help it.

In another rush of dumbass adrenaline, Renjun gets up abruptly and stands before Donghyuck.

“Go on. Do it.” Renjun says and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?” Donghyuck looks at his friend quizzically.

“Do it. Just make it quick.” Renjun nods with determination and points at his face.

“You’re crazy.” Donghyuck states and slides further away on the bench, eyebrows raised, and a grimace on his mouth.

“Just do it, man. Do it so we can move on.” Renjun says, placing both hands on his waist and squeezing his eyes shut.

“I’m not going to punch you so you can move on, you psycho.” Donghyuck’s face is contorted, like he’s scandalized and perhaps even slightly scared of his friend.

“Come on, Donghyuckie. Just punch me and get it over with.” Renjun waves his hand impatiently, not relenting.

“Are you not hearing me, you crazy? I’m not punching you just to make you feel better!” Donghyuck almost yells.

And because Renjun is pretty sure this would work, he grabs at Donghyuck’s collar just to provoke him.

“What the fuck?!” Donghyuck tries to push Renjun off of him.

“Hit me!” Renjun shouts.

“No, are you fucking crazy! Get off me!” Donghyuck grabs at the sleeves of Renjun’s jacket and tries to pry him off.

“Not till you hit me!” Renjun insists, clinging onto the boy, grabbing and pulling at him to annoy him best he can to get a reaction.

“I’m not going to hit you!” Donghyuck yells. The two boys spin in inelegant, rough circles on the grass, trying to push and pull at one another.

“Punch me or you got no balls!” Renjun yowls and then finally feels the blow to his face that sends him flying to the ground.

He pauses for a bit because his head spins for a solid ten seconds. He shakes it vigorously to get it to focus and it helps because then he looks up to find a very startled and distressed Donghyuck looking down at him, fist still raised in the air.

“That had more throw than power.” Renjun comments, massaging his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s what I was going for.” Donghyuck agrees.

For a moment both boys nod and look at each other, acknowledging the technique and form of the punch. And then, they burst into laughter because fuck, all of this was so stupid. Renjun rolls on the grass and Donghyuck doubles over as he stands. Then he offers Renjun his hand to help him get up, which he takes eagerly, using it to lift up and fling himself into his friend’s arms. They hold each other strongly, thumping one another on the back. And just like that, the awkwardness is gone. All that was meant to be said has been said and now Renjun is no longer struggling to find his words. They come easily, because all of this is so natural. He was with his best friend, after all.

“You are a crazy motherfucker, you know that, right?” Donghyuck comments, shaking his head as they sit back down on the bench.

Renjun chuckles, then looks at the grass, because his head hangs in shame again. “I’m a sorry motherfucker.”

Donghyuck puts an arm around Renjun and thumps his back again. “You should be sorry, you dumb fuck. But also, you’ve got a pretty toxic coping mechanism, you know that, right?”

Renjun sighs long “I know. The longer I think about it, the dumber I feel.”

He expects his friend to make a joke in return but he feels his hesitation. So he looks up and finds Donghyuck trying to think of what to say. “Have you ever thought about… like sorting that out, maybe?” he finally asks.

“Sorting it out?” Renjun asks, confused.

“Like... you know this isn’t normal, right?” Donghyuck asks, and he doesn’t sound like he’s mocking. His tone doesn’t have the slightest hint of a joke and that’s what makes Renjun realize what he’s talking about.

“No… no, I haven’t…” Renjun admits. He doesn’t know why he’s never thought about ‘sorting it out’. Perhaps because he’s always thought he was smarter than anyone who could offer him help.

“You could give it a try. Talking to someone really helps sometimes, you know? Getting help can help.” Donghyuck says carefully.

Renjun bites his lip. He knows his friend is right, but he’s never really, truly given it a thought. Donghyuck senses his discomfort and changes the subject.

“Your grandma is finally getting tested again tomorrow.” he says as he stretches.

Renjun smiles “Yeah. I honestly can’t believe it…” he looks at his best friend “... but I also don’t know if I’ll ever be able to thank you…”

Donghyuck frowns and shakes Renjun by the shoulder “Stop it before I throw up.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll throw up even if you mean it.”

“Donghyuck…”

“Okay, really, stop. Also, I’m not even the one you should be thanking. Or apologizing to.” Donghyuck sits back after he’s had his fill of shaking Renjun.

“Of course, you’re the one I should be thanking and apologizing to, you stupid. You did all of this for me even when I was an absolute asshole to you.” Renjun presses.

“You are an asshole, but you’re also a dumb asshole.” Donghyuck declares.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize nicely, here.” Renjun pouts and his friend lets out a long, exasperated sigh.

“I thought you were just being obtuse but you seriously don’t know…” Donghyuck shakes his head.

“Know what?” Renjun asks and Donghyuck shrugs and acts like a little shit which annoys Renjun, but at the same time fills him with relief. Because Donghyuck being a little shit to him means their friendship has been restored to its original state. But he asks again “Know what?!”

“Dude, no offense or anything, but did you really think your parents can put your grandma in a private room all on their own?” Donghyuck asks.

Renjun stops a bit. He’d been so worried about the fact that his grandma’s life was hanging by a thread that he hadn’t even thought about the expenses part. He knows his grandma had a little bit in savings, but his parents for sure didn’t earn that much. Come to think of it, he hadn’t even realized that this was one of the nicer hospitals around.

“Fuck it, I’m really going to have to spell it out for you. Since your brain doesn’t seem to be working.” Donghyuck sighs dramatically.

“What?”

“Dude. This is Y/N’s parents’ hospital. Your mother couldn’t possibly keep taking care of your grandma all on her own, now could she? When Y/N found out, she went crazy. She made her parents direct all their best resources into taking care of your grandma.”

For a while, the information hangs in the air.

Renjun had thought that he would never get to feel things that were new and unexplainable ever again. He thought he had experienced every single feeling his body had to offer. The past month alone had put him through more emotions than he had experienced in his whole life. He had seen it all, felt it all.

But what he’s experiencing right now doesn’t feel like gratitude or shame or longing or anything one should expect to feel in a situation like this. It just feels like a soft light has filled his chest and is lifting him in the air. He feels like he’s floating, like he’s having an out of body experience.

“Oh,” is the only thing he can manage to say.

And then he remembers your face. He hadn’t realized it then, but he sees now how badly he had wanted to see you that night. He had wanted no one but you to hold him and kiss him and tell him that he wasn’t alone. And he remembers how he couldn’t tell you any of that. He remembers how you had walked away with another man.

And that makes him come back to earth. He feels a resigned sort of sadness.

“Y/N is… she would do that for anybody, wouldn’t she?” Renjun smiles sadly.

“She probably would. But you should’ve seen how worried she was. Even now, she is on the phone everyday with her parents, making sure they’re doing everything they can. She didn’t want what happened to her grandmother to happen to yours.” Donghyuck tells him.

Renjun looks up “What happened to her grandmother?”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows. “She passed away from Covid last year?” His eyebrows go higher still “She says she’s told you about this?”

Renjun thinks, and then it’s as if a veil on his memory is slowly but poorly being lifted. He remembers laying his head on your shoulder. He remembers feeling your shirt dampen from his tears. He remembers your fingers drawing relaxing patterns in his hair. He remembers your soothing voice, speaking to him with such tenderness that Renjun had barely heard your words and had focused instead on it’s sweet tones. But now, when Renjun is forcing himself to think, he very foggily recalls what you had been saying. You had been telling him about your own grandmother. Why hadn’t Renjun listened? Why did Renjun never listen when you spoke? He was such a selfish, arrogant fool. He wishes he could go back and change it all.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Are you really….” he sighs again, “Nevermind. But yeah, she basically went nuts because she couldn’t be here with you.”

Renjun’s heart is aching and he’s pretty sure his face reflects it. “I wish I could take it all back. Everything I did to her.”

“You can take it back.” Donghyuck says.

“How?”

“Apologize to her, you dummy.” Donghyuck smacks the back of his head.

“How? I tried calling her once but she didn’t pick up.” Renjun admits.

“Then you should call her again and again and again till it sticks.” Donghyuck says plainly and it makes so much fucking sense that Renjun is embarrassed that he hadn’t thought it.

“Yeah, but…” Renjun swallows, “... it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks.

“She’s with Wong Hendery now. So…” Renjun can’t even complete the thought.

“What do you mean she’s with Wong Hendery?” Donghyuck scrunches his brows deep in his forehead in confusion.

“She left with him for the semester break. I went to see her… but she left with him…” Renjun presses his lips together.

“Wait…” Donghyuck says and Renjun looks up and nods at him as if to confirm the fact. But he sees something entirely different on his friend’s face. It’s an expression of deep dumbfoundedness. “... are you some sort of an idiot?” He asks like Renjun is the dimmest person he has ever come across.

And Renjun doesn’t help his cause because he only blinks in return.

“Dude! She’s not ‘with Wong Hendery,’” Donghyuck gets up and smacks Renjun across the head once again. “They’re partners on the SMK Trainee Drive. She’s literally been preparing for this for months? Shouldn’t you know this?”

Renjun blinks some more. SMK Trainee Drive? Renjun had heard and personally seen you preparing for interviews and these drives. But somehow a lot of it hadn’t registered in his brain. Once again, probably because he never listened to you well. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he was an idiot. He was the biggest idiot on the planet.

Yet right now, he was a smiling idiot whose heart was suddenly filling with hope. “She’s not… with… she’s not with Hendery?” Renjun is embarrassed. He feels so fucking stupid asking this, but he absolutely can’t help the smile spreading across his face.

“She’s literally at the tower right now. She’s been stuck because we went into lockdown whilst she was there. It’s why she couldn’t come and see you. But the highway doesn’t open for another week, so she’ll be stuck till then.” Donghyuck explains, and Renjun feels his heart exploding with joy at every word. He’s pretty sure he’s grinning shamelessly.

“Why do I know more about your girlfriend than you do? Oh wait. It's because 'she's not your girlfriend.’” Donghyuck does a perfectly exaggerated mimicry of Renjun that reminds him of that one SpongeBob meme. On a normal day, he would’ve wanted to smack his friend for doing this. But in this moment, he is all too happy to be the one being smacked and mocked.

Renjun laughs with relief, then finds his laugh fading a bit. “Do you think she’ll forgive me? For everything I did?”

“I don’t know, man. But you wouldn’t know unless you try.” Donghyuck once again states something that should be obvious.

“How do I try if she’s not picking up my calls? And when she won’t even be here for another week?” Renjun sulks a bit but gets smacked in the head again.

“Dude! She literally did everything in the world to help your grandma, and she was in a wholeass different city! She did that all for you! I’m sure you can figure out a simple apology.” Donghyuck has his arms crossed and is now seriously looking agitated with him and it makes Renjun smile.

“She really did that for me?” Renjun asks and he doesn’t even care if he sounds like a cheesy motherfucker. He doesn’t even care he’s being this way in front of Lee Donghyuck who probably won’t let him live it down for the rest of his life.

“Of course she did that for you, you idiot.” Renjun earns another smack at the end of that.

“Does she like me?” Renjun asks like a stupid, hopeful teenage boy.

Donghyuck pretends to gag and moves away in disgust. But then he sees Renjun’s expression and lets out a long, irritated exhale. “Of course she likes you, you dumb fuck.” Renjun gets hit in the head, “Why would she do all of this if she didn’t like you?” Renjun gets another smack, “Oh Lord, please give me the strength to not commit murder. I am not your strongest soldier…” Donghyuck looks up at the sky and Renjun laughs openly, freely and lightly. He feels as if all the knots in his chest are slowly being undone one by one. So he jumps up and tries to tackle and cuddle Donghyuck but he keeps moving away. The two boys run around in the ground, Renjun chasing Donghyuck, trying to attack him with his love while he complains that his hair smells.

And Renjun accepts all his insults with a newly healed heart. You liked him. Despite everything that he’d done to you, you liked him. You had worried about him and done everything in your power to help his grandma. You had kept tabs on her and made sure she was healing even though you were miles away. You liked him, and you weren’t with a new guy and you liked him.

As he walks back towards the hospital with his arm around his best friend’s shoulders, he decides that if it came to it that he had to beg and grovel for your forgiveness, he would happily spend the rest of his life on his knees. Because you liked him and Renjun was never going to let you go ever again.

True to his word (for maybe the first time in your relationship), Renjun spends the rest of the week trying to reach you. Because his apology tour wouldn’t be complete without his most important stop--you.

He calls you so many times; but each time, he only gets to hear the dial tone and the mechanical voice telling him that the user is unreachable at the moment. You never pick up.

But his mind and his spirit is fueled by Donghyuck’s advice, and this time, the advice is a lot more sound and a lot less exploitative. So, Renjun doesn’t give up because he has to make it stick. You had never given up on him. He wasn’t going to give up on you. When he’s sure you won’t pick up his calls, he leaves you a string of messages.

‘Hey, Y/N. I’m trying to call you. Please pick up?’

‘I know you have every right to be mad at me, but I just need a chance to apologize.’

‘I’m seriously the biggest idiot in the world, but I need to tell you that in person.’

‘Okay, I’m coming to you.’

‘Turns out I can’t just negotiate with the police to let me cross the city lines to get to the girl I like.’

‘Y/N, please…’

‘I’m the world’s sorriest and the most embarrassed motherfucker and I need to hear your voice to tell you that.’

‘I am Berry-Berry sorry, and I’m just asking for one chance to get to talk to you.

‘I’m not going to stop, you know?’

He has to admit that his patience is wearing thin. Because he’s trying every method and none of it is working; and also because his pride had never allowed him to beg and grovel to anyone before. It’s a humbling experience, but at the same time, he doesn’t feel burdened by it. This was for you. The girl who had done everything in her power to make him fall. The girl who had given him more love and kindness than anyone else in the world had. The girl who had taken his troubles and worries as her own. So, of course, he had to do everything in his power to earn your forgiveness.

But as he’s sitting in his room, trying to call you for what he’s sure is the twentieth time that day, he hears that your phone has been powered off. For a moment, Renjun feels immensely dispirited. Maybe he had lost you for good. Maybe you never wanted to hear from him ever again. Maybe this is what he deserved.

But in the next moment, Renjun stops himself. No. He wasn’t going to let his mind spiral that way again. He had to think with a good, clear mind. He couldn’t sit around and sulk without knowing he had explored all possible options. He needed to get creative and for that, he needed to think.

He could certainly wait it out till the week was over and when you’d be back. But he wanted to spend each passing minute letting you know that he was trying. So, that wasn’t an option.

Maybe he could look at the map and find some loopholes and secret passageways across the city. Surely, some of them had to be unmanned so he could break the lockdown law and get to you? That would certainly be impactful, being locked up in jail as a grand gesture of an apology. But Renjun was no action hero.

Renjun sits and thinks and thinks and thinks till a light bulb finally goes off. Of course. A grand gesture. He yells into his pillow out of excitement and frustration that he hadn’t thought of this before. If one thing had been established during this time, it was the fact that Renjun was a dumb fuck with a penchant for being blind to the obvious.

He gets up bright and early the next morning and rushes to see your friend at her apartment. He sits beside her as her online class starts, away from the camera view and finds his heart filling with the utmost warmth as he sees your window finally appear on the screen. Even in the tiny box, you looked so freaking beautiful that for a minute, Renjun stops and stares as butterflies take over his belly. But he taps his cheek to get himself to focus. He was here on a mission.

He waits for the class to begin before he slides himself into view next to your friend and types out a message on the chat that had taken him all night to prepare. He hits ‘Send to Everyone’ and waits.

And thankfully, the professor--miraculously the same professor who had done this the very first time all that time ago--stops to read it out,

“This might be a long shot, but Y/N L/N, do you think you can find it in your heart to give me another chance?” he begins, squinting his eyes slightly in confusion as he reads on, then smiling as realization hits. “Well, that’s certainly not a question from Ms. Kim Minjeong, I can tell you that.” he jokes and waits because as it had before, this has piqued the students’ interest.

Renjun watches as your pretty eyes widen. He watches them skirt across your screen, seemingly looking for the cause of the commotion. He watches the moment of realization hitting your pretty face. And he waits.

“Well, Ms. Y/N L/N, are you going to put the young man out of his misery?” the professor jokes kindly and Renjun thinks he might die from the anticipation.

And then, he watches as you move to unmute yourself.

“Yeah, I guess I could give him another chance,” you say nonchalantly which earns you a round of applause and hoots from all other windows. Because college students will always love dramatic antics.

The professor calls the class back to attention and Renjun sits back in his chair, grinning like an idiot because the girl he had fallen for had given him another chance.

#renjun fic #renjun angst #renjun fluff #kpopscape #ficscafe #neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #huang renjun #renjun #nct dream #nct fic #nct dream fic #nct fluff #nct angst #nct college au #renjun x reader #we met in online class

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seriouslysnape · 4 years

Text

Interrupted Slumber

Remus Lupin x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

A/N: I want a Remus so mf BAD in my life.

Word Count: 1,296

“Let’s talk about it, yeah?”

There was a faint light coming from outside, spilling into your bedroom through the cracked window. A gentle breeze flowed through the room, leaving your skin cool and your body comfortable. Your eyelids fluttered every few minutes or so as you continued to float through a deep, resting sleep. The clean sheets were draped over your waist and legs, keeping the easy wind from keeping you too cool. The inky black skies were dotted with little sprinkles of stars. It was perfect conditions for a productive sleep. You were quite at peace.

However, it wasn’t the same for your husband lying next to you.

Remus had broken out into a sweat, his legs shifting uncomfortably around under the sheets as his mind raced with disturbing images. His breathing was heavy and rapid in response to the nightmare he was having, his head moving in distress on his pillow. He had begun to let out scared whimpers and low cries, which brought you from your sleep. It took you a minute to realize that Remus was having a bad dream, and he was what woke you up.

You rested a hand on his shoulder, shaking gently to keep from startling him more.

“Remus, darling, wake up.” Your drowsy voice whispered out.

He suddenly shot up in bed with a sharp gasp, his heart pumping in his ears and throbbing in his head at being awoken so abruptly. His eyes darted around the room frantically, relief falling on his features at the sight of you looking worriedly at him.

“Oh, thank Merlin...” He croaked out, falling into your frame.

You wasted no time taking him into your hold, his head resting on your chest as you stroked his damp hair. You hushed him, rubbing his back carefully to get him to calm down a little. His breathing was muffled in your shirt as he tried to fight through the panic response, his entire body was shaking violently. You spoke to him sweetly and quietly.

“You’re okay. I’m here. It was just a dream.” You consoled him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

You felt terrible for him. You knew how much he needed sleep, and you always hated when he didn’t get it. He didn’t say anything, but he did something that almost sent you into tears yourself.

He started to cry.

Remus never cried. You would definitely consider him a sensitive guy, and he was much more in touch with his emotions than most males that you knew. Despite this, you had only seen Remus cry two other times in the many years you had been together. The first was when he proposed to you, and the second was when you got married. And even then, those had been happy tears. So this was something seriously upsetting to him.

These were not tears of joy kind of sobs. These were gut wrenching, heartbreaking, truly broken down kind of cries.

“Oh, Remus...” You called out, bringing his head from your chest so he’d look at you; “What is it?”

He was still quivering, his eyes endlessly pooling with tears and you watched helplessly as they fell down his cheeks.

“Kiss me.” He said more as a beg than anything else.

You almost chuckled, thinking he was trying to be funny to diffuse the situation, but there wasn’t a hint of entertainment on his face.

“What, love?” You asked.

His clammy hands came to your face, looking into your eyes.

“Kiss me, please. I need to know that you’re actually here.” He pleaded.

You kissed him without hesitation, your heart aching at how bad this had rattled him. He kissed you so desperately that you would’ve thought that he hadn’t seen you in years. His lips were quivering on yours, his crying only ceasing for a few seconds. He pulled away, a little less frantic, but still shaken up. He sighed deeply.

“It was so real. I was...I was sure that you...” He trailed off, another harsh bawl erupting from his soul.

You pushed his hair back from his forehead so you could see his full face, persuading him to talk it out.

“Let’s talk about it, yeah?” You suggested.

He nodded with another whimper, a fruitless attempt to stop his crying. His voice cracked and quaked as he spoke.

“I’ve had dreams like that before...but this one was so different. I didn’t even know I was dreaming,” He explained; “I was watching you, but I wasn’t really there. It was like I was watching a memory.”

He stopped for a moment, sniffling a few times before continuing with his story. He held your hand, squeezing it when he was fighting a choked up sob.

“And then I showed up, but it was a full moon,” He said, knowing you’d understand what he was implying; “Moony was so angry and he just attacked and I couldn’t do anything. Before I knew it, he had...”

You hushed him again when he fell off into crying once more. He didn’t have to say it. You knew that Moony had killed you in his dream. It was something that Remus had always been afraid of. Scratch that, he was petrified of it. Remus had mentioned to you in passing that he sometimes had bad dreams about Moony hurting people, but you guessed that you had never been the victim until tonight’s nightmare.

“Remus, I know it frightened you,” You said, wiping tears away from his scarred cheeks; “But I’m here, love. I’m right here in front of you. Moony didn’t hurt me...you didn’t hurt me.” You convinced him.

As relieving as it was to know that nothing had happened and that you were safe, Remus still felt this sense of dread. He knew what Moony could do, and he tried his best not to think about what could happen.

His shaking had slowed some, and his heart and breathing were going at a more normal pace. You held him again, his arms wrapping around your midsection and his head resting against your chest once more. He listened to your steady heartbeat, another reminder that you were there and totally fine. You hummed softly, rocking him back and forth just slightly. While you never ever wanted Remus to feel upset or hurt, you still cherished these moments where he was vulnerable. The moments where he retreated to you for comfort.

You took advantage of any moment to show him love and affection. He was such a pure, gentle soul that didn’t deserve the tribulations he had to face.

“I love you. You’re okay.” You said again, making sure that he knew.

He raised his head, moving to sit upright. He knew there was no way he’d be sleeping for the rest of the night, but he didn’t mind. As long as you were there, he didn’t need it.

“I love you, my beautiful girl,” He replied, the last of his tears fading away; “Thank you for being there for me...and I’m sorry for waking you.”

You assured him that there was nowhere else on the planet that you’d rather be, telling him that he was more important than sleep. Now that he was well into settling down, he noted how disheveled you looked from being abruptly brought from your sleep. He knew you’d want to go back to bed soon, which was fine.

“Kiss me again?” He requested with a slight smirk.

You gave him a smile, knowing that this time he was just being cheeky. You obliged though, kissing him and keeping him close until he was fully feeling like himself again. He didn’t get much sleep for the rest of the night, but you were there with him.

And that was all he needed.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin fanfiction #remus #professor lupin #professor lupin x reader #professor lupin x you #david thewlis #Harry Potter #harry potter lupin #seriouslysnape

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bookishofalder · 3 years

Text

Night Changes [Nine]

Summary: Will Poe and the reader be reunited?

Warnings: Angst, character deaths, language, smut. TW-pregnancy, birth, infant, breastfeeding. WC—+10k

A/N-At the end.

“Rey,” At the sound of her name, Rey paused and glanced around to see Leia standing next to the Falcon, waiting. Meeting her kind eyes, she hoped Leia wasn’t going to try and convince her not to go again; she’d already told the wise General that she had to find the Wayfinder, that she needed to complete Luke’s mission and get to Exegol. Finn, Poe, Chewbacca and C3PO were already on board, waiting for her to join them; it was time to leave.

“Leia?” She stepped toward her mentor, who looked around cautiously before lowering her voice to speak to Rey.

“I need to give you something.”

Rey frowned, confused, glancing down to Leia’s empty, “What do you mean?”

Leia sighed, her eyes tired. Rey understood—she felt exhausted too. “I can’t explain it. And you must keep it to yourself until the moment is right—trust me, you’ll know when that is—if you do end up needing to,” Leia took hold of Rey’s hands, squeezing, “I’ll show you, but you must keep it tucked away no matter what.”

Seeing the seriousness in Leia’’s eyes, Rey swallowed and nodded, “Of course. I promise.” She returned the pressure to the General’s hands and watched as she reached up and pressed her fingers gently to Rey’s temple.

In a brief flash, Rey saw enough to understand.

As he was pushed roughly through the doors to an open hangar with Finn and Chewie, Poe couldn’t help but reflect on his life over the past year and a half. He’d had a lot of close calls, even been captured, but this was the first time he felt like he was going to die, as General Hux and a couple of Storm Troopers stood behind them, ready to execute Poe and his friends. He hoped Rey was able to escape, at least.

And Leia could get the news of his death to you. She would make sure you were taken care of for the rest of your life. He had no regrets, no, not with you on some planet far away from all of this and free to raise the baby. He’d done everything he could, fought as hard as possible, but that didn’t mean he was guaranteed to live.

Poe tried to picture what the baby might look like, whether they got your smile, his hair. Pain shot through his broken heart that his child would grow with only pictures of him, no memories. He glanced up at Finn, eager to distract himself; he could hear Hux speaking to the Troopers and ignored them.

“What were you going to tell Rey before?”

Finn hesitated, appearing uncomfortable, “You still on that?”

“Oh,” Poe frowned at him incredulously, “Is this a bad time?” He just wanted to hear Finn admit aloud he had feelings for Rey. He could sense it between them, especially recently, and thought that they made a good pair. In another life he could see himself with them, you at his side, enjoying a late-night dinner, laughing around a table while the kids pretended to be asleep in their bedrooms.

Nodding, Finn gave Poe a wary look, “It sort of is?” Poe scoffed, shaking his head.

“So I tell you my deepest secrets but right before we’re about to die you’re locking down on yours?” Poe hadn’t just told Finn about you; after he’d confessed your existence, he hadn’t been able to stop sharing with his friend, who listened attentively as Poe described his life with you, how he’d love you since he was ten years old.

Finn blanched, and after a pause opened his mouth to respond, only shots went off behind them and they flinched. Poe expected to feel pain, or perhaps nothing if the shot was well placed, only they heard thuds behind them and instead glanced around to find Hux holding a blaster, eyes on the dead Troopers momentarily before he looked up at them.

“I’m the spy.” He claimed, a dark smirk on his twisted face, and Poe felt a rush of confused relief—he and Finn exchanged looks as Chewie groaned.

“What?” He exclaimed at the same moment Finn yelled, “You?” In disbelief.

Hux ignored them, “We don’t have much time, we have to go.” He gestured for them to follow and after a brief pause, they hastened to climb to their feet.

Poe hurried forward and grabbed a few of the fallen Troopers blasters, passing them to Finn and Chewie before taking one for himself. His blood was rushing, the feeling of being alive still—of getting lucky, again—made him feel powerful like you were out there somewhere sending him the strength and good fortune that he needed at every turn.

As they ran behind Hux, Finn touched Poe’s arm. “That was too close—made me realize, do you have a way of her knowing if something happens to you?”

Poe nodded, “Leia will tell her.”

But he sincerely hoped that would never happen, that you wouldn’t be standing in the doorway of some home he’d never know and hear the words that he had died, that he was never coming for you. The idea of you being in that kind of pain was something he couldn’t fully fathom, and it only renewed his determination to get to the Wayfinder and finish this fight once and for all.

11 Months Ago

“Doesn’t matter how many galaxies separate us, I will always be with you, and you with me. I promise.”

Memories of your life with Poe had a way of burrowing into the forefront of your mind when you least expect them; when you let your guard down. The emotional goodbye all those years before, back on Yavin-4 when you were just kids—Poe leaving with Charlie to join the Resistance...it was a lifetime ago. And as much as you believed his words both then and now, it didn’t make the pain any easier to endure as you lay here without him, the Healer and Kes having left you alone with the newborn baby cradled in your arms.

You were surprised when the Healer had passed you the baby—after almost nine hours of labour—to see the tuft of dark curls on their head; Kes had remarked that Poe had come into the world with as much hair, and you’d laughed through your mixed tears of sorrow and joy and love. So they took after their dad—what a beautiful, heartbreaking thought.

Stars, you hoped Poe would meet them before long--before they grew too much. Just seeing the tiny creature, skin-to-skin with you like the Healer recommended, both made your heart feel complete while simultaneously tearing it apart. He should have been here to hold your hand, to cut the cord and press soft kisses to both of your heads and cry tears of joy from it all.

It wasn’t fair. Up until this moment you’d been able to lock back to anger and the bitter feelings over having let Poe send you away because it had been the right choice no matter what way you looked at it. But now, as you lay exhausted and bursting with love for the baby you made with your soulmate, you let some of that anger free through wretched sobs because it wasn’t fair that he had to miss this, that for all you knew he could be...

You stopped yourself from thinking of the worst-case scenario. It wasn’t helpful to imagine what he was doing now, where he was, if he was okay. And you’d promised him you would keep him alive in your mind unless you knew for certain that he wasn’t.

A small whine met your ears and you glanced down at the baby, smiling at their pinched expression as they struggled to adapt to their new surroundings. “It’s okay, little bug. Mama is here, shhh...” You cooed softly, running a lone finger over their hair in a gentle motion. You watched their eyes flutter beneath the lids, enjoying the feel of your touch, and then froze when they opened their eyes for the first time to look up at you blearily.

Stars, they had Poe’s eyes.

Now - 35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

When Temmin died, Poe truly began to lose all hope.

Before watching another friend’s x-wing get shot down, he’d managed to scrape the bottom of the barrel for that hope, for any remaining belief that they could win this fucking fight. That everything he’d ever sacrificed was worth it because now they had arrived and it was time to put an end to it all—but then he was screaming for Snap to watch his six, heard the anguished cry through the comm when he was hit, the searing memory of losing Charlie so many years before in the same way making his stomach churn, and he just felt so...

So fucking hopeless.

Leia was gone. The Resistance was down to pathetic numbers, and he had finally lost all hope.

Shit, if he was being honest with himself he’d been running through these last few days with urgency and adrenaline that prevented him from overthinking the odds, a blissful denial that anything other than winning could occur. When he’d told the remaining fighters of the Resistance that this was their final stand, that help would come, he had meant it as much as he’d hoped it was true.

“Help will come if they know there is hope,” Poe had stared around at his friends, at their doubting expressions, “They will. We have friends out there. The First Order wins by making us think we’re alone. We’re not alone—good people will fight if we lead them.”

In all of the time that had passed between when he’d said goodbye to you to this moment, he’d never once regretted sending you far away from the fight. Even here, with Rebel, after Rebel dying and a fleet of Destroyer’s that would wipe out entire planets unless they bent to the will of the First Order, he felt a sense of peace knowing that you were safely tucked away well beyond the reaches of their tyranny. His child would grow up with a mother who could share stories of Poe’s life, his love for you, for them.

It still stung, though, knowing he would never see you again. That he would die fighting and his last thoughts would be of you, of his little family, and you would have no idea. He hoped when you did find out the Resistance was done, the fight was lost, that you didn’t take it too hard—didn’t blame yourself in any way. He wanted you to be mad at him, not at yourself, not after everything you’d done for him, everything you had sacrificed.

He almost could have laughed, bleak as the outlook now was it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did that no aid had arrived, that Lando and Chewie flew to the inner core worlds for nothing—clearly, no one was coming. Just like the Battle of Crait, they were alone; only now Leia was gone and Poe was the General, he was the one everyone was screaming for orders from through the comms, he was the one that had to say it aloud.

“My friends,” His voice was scratchy, choked up, as his mind played flashes of his life—of you, of losing Charlie, marrying you, losing Leia. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

He would die taking down as many enemies as he could. He would tell the rest of them to either do the same or flee—he wouldn’t blame them if they fled. Poe could almost imagine himself doing it, but the idea of finding you somewhere out there and saying he’d left at the final hour made bile heave in his stomach. He would never abandon the fight, not when you had wanted to stay as much as you had, but left for the baby.

As he struggled to pull in a breath to speak, he recalled the last time he saw you.

It was late, the base quiet and most of the Rebels sleeping, all except for Poe and you—it was time to say goodbye, under the cover of darkness. He wasn’t allowed to follow you into the hangar because he couldn’t know even the most minute details of how you got off-planet. Still, he would walk you as far as he could, and savour every final second together.

“I changed my mind, I’m not leaving you.” You whispered, halting in the hallway and turning to face Poe. One hand ran absentmindedly over your swollen stomach, the other reached up to grip his forearm. Your lower lip trembled, and he felt every word you wanted to say to convince him you should stay.

Poe took a shuddering breath, “Sweet girl, you aren’t leaving me—stop thinking about it like that. You’re saving our baby, keeping them safe, remember?” He tried to keep the desperate plea minimal in his voice because it had been like this for the last few days. One moment you were reluctantly prepared to leave, the next you were begging to stay. He didn’t know how much more of this torture he could stand before he broke down and let you stay.

Your pretty eyes were bloodshot and red-rimmed, just like his. You’d each cried more than enough to last a lifetime, and although heat pricked the corners of his eyes now he knew no more tears could come until you were out of sight. He would cry in his bed alone tonight, and probably every night until he saw you again, but right now he needed to show strength.

You stepped into his arms and Poe hugged you close, your body angling your stomach so that it wasn’t pressed between you both. “I don’t...Poe, I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this.”

Poe stared at you in disbelief, “Not strong enough? Are you kidding me?” He brought his hands to cup your cheeks gently, “You are the strongest person I know. What you are about to do for us, for our baby, is the most incredible sacrifice anyone could make. Everything you are doing and have done in your life only proves how amazing and strong you are—no matter what happens, please never forget that, okay?”

You whimpered sadly, nodding your head, and Poe shakily pressed his lips to yours, capturing you for one last kiss. It was soft and for one brief moment, he let himself imagine it was a greeting, though in truth it only made his heart fracture further rather than make him feel any better.

“Whatever happens, Poe, we’ll be okay...so don’t worry about us, focus on yourself,” You reached up and pushed your hands into his curls, savouring them one final time. “Promise me you’ll never stop fighting, flyboy.”

Poe smiled sadly down at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your beautiful face, “Never, sweetheart, I promise I’ll never stop fighting. And this isn’t goodbye,” He pressed one hand gently against your belly, “It’s just a...see you soon. Once I’m finished blowing shit up in my x-wing.”

You laughed, tears streaming down your face and then pulled Poe against you again, his hand stuck between your bodies as you crushed him in a strong embrace. “I love you, Poe.”

“Oh, sweet girl, I love you too.”

35 ABY - Sorgan

You missed flying, though the place Leia had sent Kes and you to barely had any air traffic, the planet much too out of the way. Still, it had a sky that night or day you’d find yourself gazing into, wishing you could feel that weightlessness that came with blasting off from base, that you would look to your left and see Poe in his ship, the stars stretching beyond.

Poe. Stars, you missed him more and more every day. You had trouble believing it had been over a year, that the baby was now eleven months old and starting to try and walk and they’d never met their father. Though each time this knowledge became too heavy, you reminded yourself of the peaceful life you were living on Sorgan and how that had been the whole point of you leaving the fight—for the baby, for safety.

Sorgan was so far removed that no news reached the planet from the middle and core rims, something you’re sure Leia knew when she decided to send you here. You sometimes felt suffocated, not knowing a single thing about what was happening out there, but then you knew if you did know, it might make it harder to stay. And you couldn’t leave, you knew that for certain the moment you’d laid eyes on your newborn when the Healer had set the baby in your arms, face pinched as shrieks filled the air until they’d calmed, skin to skin with you.

You had gazed at the beautiful baby and you knew that you could never bear to part from them, no matter what you did or didn’t know about the war. Nonetheless, it was perhaps infinitesimally easier to be ignorant and allow yourself to imagine that it was all going fine.

You were living in a small but cozy yurt on the edge of a fishing village. The simple space comprised of the main room that hosted the barebones kitchen with a big table to eat at and a couple of comfortable sitting chairs, and had two rooms, one on either side, for sleeping quarters. The baby was in a crib at the end of your bed, where you were laying now. Very much awake even as they slept soundly.

Or so you thought until you were jerking from your thoughts at their sudden cries. You waited for a minute, the soft cries more whimpers than anything, and hoped the baby would soothe themselves back to sleep. They hiccuped, however, and started to cry again from the jolt. You sighed before sliding out from under the covers and padding softly to their crib.

“Your eyes aren’t even open,” You accused, grinning at the baby with the scrunched face, all the drama of their dad and only eleven months. Carefully lifting them, you tucked the baby against your chest and began to stroll slow circles around the bedroom, swaying as you went. “You know, when your dad finally comes and meets you he’s taking night duty over. I don’t care how many wars he wins.”

The little coo you got in response was enough to tell you Bug was on your side.

Though every day apart from Poe was painful, you did savour the good moments with the little piece of your heart that remained, beating for the baby you held now. And on this peaceful, sleepy planet most days had plenty of good—even if you were sad. Kes was an incredibly positive man, and like his son knew how to read you well, often stepping in to whisk the baby away whenever he sensed your sorrow was too hard to contain. You tried to spend all of the energy you had smiling for Bug because that was the only thing you could really do.

The guilt was heavy. You knew Poe would be devastated if he knew just how much you carried, living so comfortably—if a little rustic—on Sorgan all while he spent every day fighting to stay alive. But it was easier to focus on that guilt, to hate yourself than it was to be afraid of losing him—never seeing him again. Stars, the guilt was practically a salve in comparison to that.

Some days though, it was harder to keep the frame of mind that staying was the only option. As the baby grew, the guilt began to feed a steady flow of ‘what if’s’ into your mind. It was getting harder to ignore the sense of it. When Bug started to mix food into their diet, weaning partially from your breastmilk, you told yourself you could wean them completely, earlier than you planned but then you could hire a ship to take you back to D’Qar...

Only, you didn’t even know if D’Qar was still safe anymore.

It was a circular battle you couldn’t win no matter the choice you made, though you always chose the baby, chose to stay because you promised Poe you would. He’d told you that you were making the greatest sacrifice, and he had been right—he knew he could distract himself with the fight, and that you would only be able to distract yourself so much with raising the baby. He understood you would spend every day apart wishing you could rejoin him.

A soft snore pulled you from your thoughts and you glanced down at the baby to find them fast asleep again. You smiled fondly, that little chunk of your heart giving a happy beat as you settled them back into their crib and ran your fingers gently over their soft cheek.

“Goodnight, Charlie, my sweet girl.” You whispered heart clenching at the sight of her chubby cheeks relaxed in sleep.

Deciding a cool drink was needed, you slipped from the quiet of your room and into the main extension of the yurt you shared with Kes. A single lamp lit the small space dimly, and you helped yourself to a glass of water and took a seat at the table. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there before Kes appeared and sat down across from you with a knowing smile on his face.

He sat silently for a few minutes as you sipped at your drink, speaking only once you’d finished. “Can’t sleep again?”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair, exhaustion setting deep in your bones.

“I keep having the same dream, Kes. Poe and Bug, back home on Yavin-4. Only, the beach is in colour but they aren’t.” You choked up, glancing toward your room, where you could see the crib through the doorway.

Kes followed your gaze, “Bug will meet him someday. I know it. You need to believe that too, kiddo, and you really need to get some sleep.” He patted your hand gently before standing and you watched him make his way to his room, pulling the curtain across his doorway as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed your palms into your closed eyes, willing your mind to settle so that you could go to bed and get some rest. You just don’t think you could stand to have the dream again—always waking up and wondering, would you ever really get to see Poe again? Would he ever get to meet his little girl?

When you climbed back beneath the cool sheets of your bed, you fell into light sleep, your dreams the same as ever—Poe playing with Charlie on the beach back home on Yavin-4 while you sat on a blanket on the sand watching, laughing as they splashed each other. Your family, together again.

35 ABY - Battle of Exegol

As wretched as it was to think of never seeing you again, this wasn’t the first time he thought he was going to die. At least here, in his x-wing, he could take out as many enemies as he could before going out in a blaze—just like...like Charlie.

“I thought we had a shot. There’s too many of them.” He finished speaking to the remaining fighters in resignation, his eyes heavy—he was tired, so tired. Enough so that when a new, familiar voice came clear over the comms, he sat up straighter before his mind even registered what they were saying.

“Oh, but there’s more of us, Poe. There’s more of us.”

Poe spun his ship around, his heart frozen in his chest, flew up over the wreckage of the one First Order ship they’d so far managed to take out—and there it was.

Lando and Chewie were back; he could see the Falcon, and behind them were thousands and thousands of ships. And still, more coming as he looked, pulling out of light speed to fall in with the Falcon. Poe could hardly believe his eyes, but right before him, he couldn’t doubt for a moment that his friends had come back and they...

They had brought hope.

You sat with your toes in the water, the sun shining on your back warm and comforting. Charlie splashed around happily, her water suit covering her arms and legs, joining her cute straw hat in protecting her from too much sunlight. She kept looking from the water around her chubby legs to the flowing stream behind her-as if dissatisfied with the ankle-deep water you had set her in.

“You can go in the river in a few years,” You cocked a brow at her as she gave you a pouty look. “You’re very cute, but mama says no.”

With a resigned sigh that seemed far too mature for her, she went back to splashing the water and you slid your toes towards her, wriggling them so that she tried to catch hold. When she managed to grab your big toe, you laughed and she giggled brightly, her gleeful peals filling the quiet around you.

It was a beautiful day on Sorgan. They all were, really, even the rainy days, the ones that kept you inside the yurt listening to the rain while Kes tried to teach Charlie how to crawl and you laughed as you watched them. But the sunny days were the best, the ones you could fill with endless activity to distract yourself as much as to tire out the baby. Because when your mind settled, it tended to stray off into dark thoughts.

Maybe Poe was gone.

Maybe he would never come to find you here, your little family would be memories of Poe as you raised his little girl with Kes instead. The weight of that responsibility, of ensuring she had a happy life all while missing a whole section of your heart for the rest of your own was heavy so you tried not to overthink it.

You channelled that energy into Charlie, focused on her and you think you were doing a good job of keeping her safe and content. You showed Charlie pictures of Poe every day, wanting to ensure she knew his face even if she would never get to see it in person. She’d been looking at him since she was just a little bean, and you repeated his name, ‘dada’, every time as well. She wasn’t speaking yet, but it couldn’t hurt to keep the association in her mind when she was ready to start talking.

Charlie stopped splashing and glanced up at you with wide eyes, her expression familiar. “Hungry, Bug?” You reached out for her and lifted her from the water, carefully standing and wading to the grassy spot you’d set your picnic up.

You dried her off first, then let her crawl on the blanket while you dry your feet before following her to sit. She beelined for you as you untied your tunic, lowering one side and easing your breast out, grateful your nanny droid had provided you with a soothing balm for your aching nipples. Breastfeeding was your favourite way to bond with her, but Stars, it came at a cost.

You settled Charlie against you and watched as she closed her eyes, suckling softly. You adjusted the tunic to protect her from the sun and fell into a quiet state as she fed. It was sometime later that the sound of a large ship captured your attention, breaking you from your meditation.

Charlie was asleep against you, her face still pressed to your breast, and didn’t stir as the ship, far in the distance, flew past. You wondered briefly, a jolt of electricity coursing through you wondering if it was Poe come to find you both. But when the ship flew only further away, you pushed the idea from your mind. It was probably a shipment from the core worlds going to the markets. You made a mental note to plan a trip there for the next day—if there were fresh supplies, you might find a treat or two. Get something nice for Kes, perhaps.

Feeling exhaustion hit, you napped with Charlie there on the river's edge. You had nothing to fear on Sorgan, and in fact, many of the neighbours in your village were around, not too close but enough so that if needed they could come and wake you. You kept Charlie protected from the sun but let it shine on you, the brightness no match for the gentle lull of sleep, the soft trickle of the river.

When you woke an hour later, you felt more rested than you had in some time, pausing as you sat up to stretch the kinks from your body. Charlie was wriggling and you knew she probably needed to be changed. “Time to go home?” You asked her with a grin, and she made a sour little face in response that made you laugh. You loved how expressive she was, how even though she wasn’t talking yet she managed to let you know how she felt.

With practiced movements, you packed up the little picnic, hoisted your bag over one shoulder before lifting her to sit against your hip, and made the short walk home. Kes was sitting outside the yurt when you arrived, reading, though he set the book down at the sound of your footsteps and grinned widely when Charlie cooed for him.

“Did you have a nice time, ladies?”

You smiled, “She sure loves the water, I should start taking her in the river, see how she likes floating,” Kes took her from you carefully—Charlie made a face and you both laughed, “Sorry, Kes, I think she needs to be changed.”

“No worries, you relax for a bit and I’ll deal with diaper duty.”

Nodding gratefully, you set your bag down on the chair Kes had vacated and turned to gaze out at the grassy lawn. It was a simple home, certainly not where you would have planned to raise a baby, but it was peaceful. You start to think about the next steps, how long you would stay on Sorgan before leaving. You would go ahead first, find out if it was safe, and then you wanted to return to Yavin-4. Not for a few years, although you’d like to leave before Charlie got too old and she was too attached to this place.

You stepped away from the front of the yurt to stare out over the fields. First towards the villagers as they came in from working for the day in the waters, ready to put their feet up before making dinner, and then you turned toward the river and watched the water for a while, your arms crossed, listening distantly to Charlie and Kes making each other laugh inside.

When a voice broke through your thoughts a short while later, you started in surprise before spinning, recognition of the honey-warm tone slamming into you.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

“Rey, I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to thank you—“

Rey cut Poe off, gripping his arm with a soft smile, “It was Leia, Poe. She found me before we left Ajan Kloss, she put the coordinates in my head, just in case she didn’t make it.”

Poe hugged her quickly, “Still, without you, I don’t know how long it would have taken me to find her here.” He hurried to the ramp, hitting the button to lower it with excitement mounting within him by the second.

“What do you want us to do?” Finn was standing next to Poe as he waited for the ramp to lower onto the grass.

Poe glanced up at his friend, “I have to go alone, can you wait for me here? I’ll come for you—or send for you—if I find them.” He adjusted his jacket as he spoke, nerves slicing his stomach to pieces. He hadn’t felt this close to you in almost a year and a half.

Finn nodded, a small smile on his lips, “We’ll wait. She has to be here, Poe, you’ll find her.” He clapped Poe on the shoulder encouragingly and he swallowed, unable to form a response so he just returned a half-smile and then clambered down the ramp.

Sorgan was a quiet, sleepy planet full of green. If you were here, the idea that you spent all this time in such a place was comforting to Poe—you would have been able to enjoy the land, be outside, not cooped up somewhere.

He was in a small village, and the market that lined the street was bustling with after-work crowds that were in the tens, the people all smiling at one another in a way that revealed how kind of a place it was. He wandered for a few minutes until he spotted a stand that carried medical supplies and approached the vendor, a friendly-looking older woman who grinned at him.

“Hello, stranger. How can I help you?”

Poe held up the photo he had of you, one he’d taken not long after finding out you were pregnant, your hand on your small belly and a big smile on your face. “Have you seen this woman, ma’am?”

“That’s Mrs. Carstairs,” She responded with a small nod. Poe felt his insides inflate, his excitement now ready to burst forth in a shout of glee that he had to bite back. He took a steadying breath, realizing that you had used your mother’s maiden name as your cover.

He grinned, “Yes, (y/n)—“

The woman cut him off, her eyes widening, “Oh now, you must be the husband. Now that I look at you, the baby has your eyes.”

Poe’s stomach turned over at this information. The baby had his eyes? “That’s me, do you know where I can find her, please?” He made to pull out some credits to pass over to the woman for her trouble, only she reached over to take his hand gently and shook her head, smiling.

“No need for that, dear,” She jerked her head in the direction of a nearby road that split off from the village, “Just follow that, about twenty minutes you’ll come across a fishing village. She lives right off that road on the outskirts of the village.”

Saying his thanks quickly, Poe ran faster than he had in his life in the direction she had indicated.

When he finally saw the little yurt along the main road, he breathed a sigh of relief. The sun was lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow over the ponds, fields and the nearby river. It was beautiful, and as he passed the fishing village he smiled at the villagers, who gave him curious looks before returning friendly smiles. He slowed to catch his breath, his eyes moving back to the yurt, now much closer. And then his gaze snapped to a figure standing not far from the door, gazing out in the direction of the river.

It was you.

His heart about ripped out of his chest at the sight of you alive and well. The closer he got he could see how you’d barely changed—your skin had seen more sunlight, your hair was longer, and he could see the soft curves of your figure that motherhood had brought on. He watched you for a moment, standing a few feet back, and he could hear his dad inside the yurt making a baby laugh.

Making his baby laugh.

“You dreaming about me, sweet girl?”

You spun around so fast you were a blur, though Poe didn’t miss the way your hand twitched toward the blaster at your hip before your eyes landed on him. Seeing this only made him grin more broadly, but nerves for the reunion kept him rooted to the spot. What if you were angry with him? The thought hadn’t occurred to him before this, but perhaps you-

“POE!” You cried out, and then you were running forward and jumping into his arms and it was everything he’d dreamed of and more. He caught you and held you close as you both fell to your knees in the grass, and Poe let himself get lost in the moment, sobs pulling from deep within.

He hugged you as tight as he could and then started to pepper your face with kisses, “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you. Stars above, I missed you,” He murmured, his eyes closing as your fingers sunk into his curls and tugged him, your lips crashing to his in a desperate kiss that felt exactly like coming home.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t be able to find us,” You whimpered after pulling back, your body still pressed against his, “I can’t believe you’re finally here...”

Poe shook his head, “Leia had a backup plan all along. Stars, you are so beautiful,” He swept his fingers over your cheeks, getting a good look at you now and seeing how well cared for you looked; Sorgan had been good to you. “I’m here now. It’s over, we’re safe now.”

You released your hold on his head to run your hands over your face, wiping at your tears, “Poe, the baby’s just inside, I—”

Poe and you both turned your heads at the same time at the sound of Kes coming out the door, his excited shout of glee making you both grin wider. He was holding the baby in his arms, and they looked around at the sound of your laugh, eyes just like Poe’s wide and curious—what a beautiful sight.

For a beat, the baby just stared at him, and then as Kes moved closer, a smile—a little smirk just like yours—appeared.

“Dada!”

Kes froze and glanced down at the baby in surprise, and Poe heard you gasp, one of your hands landing on his arm and squeezing excitedly. “That’s right Charlie, sweet girl, this is your Dada!”

Poe couldn’t stop staring at the baby, who hadn’t looked away from him either even as you spoke to her. She made grabby hands then, reaching for him and he tentatively raised his hands. His dad closed the gap between them and lowered the baby and he took hold of her cautiously, words caught in his throat and his heart beating fast.

She was a solid thing, sturdy in his arms and cooing happily as she gazed up in wonder at Poe. She was stunning, her eyes honey-brown and lined with thick, long lashes just like yours. Her skin was soft, and she was chunky, her baby rolls making him smile wider. After a minute, she spoke again, “Dada!” She raised her little fists towards his scruffy jaw before glancing at you.

Poe followed her gaze, “How does she know me?” He breathed, his heart in his throat.

Your watery smile only grew, “Showed her your picture every day. Wanted her to know her daddy, even if he...he couldn’t be with us,” You shuffled closer, one arm securing itself around Charlie and grasping Kes’ arm. “That was her first word, Poe. She said it just for you.”

Tears stinging at his eyes, Poe sat huddled with his family, clutching the baby closer with one arm, the other around your shoulders. His dad had thrown his arms around both you and Poe and was lamenting about how good it was to see him while Charlie cooed happily in his arms.

The moment was better than he’d ever dreamed.

Poe couldn’t put Charlie down. He carried her around for the rest of the evening, following you into the comfortable yurt you had called home all this time, one hand always on you, keeping you close.

Dad was making dinner and Poe enjoyed the banter you had, the routine of living together clearly having established itself long ago. He felt a jolt of gratitude for his dad dropping everything on Yavin-4 to take care of you and Charlie all this time.

He ate with one hand, relinquishing his hold on you but tugging you into his side before eating, his eyes constantly drinking in every expression on the baby’s face. He hadn’t realized how in love he would be so instantly, and certainly had not expected Charlie to adore him just as much—he’d thought the baby would be shy around him, maybe cry when he held them. But you had ensured she knew his face, his name—just another thing you did for him.

Poe was never going to be able to thank you enough for everything you had done.

“Poe?” Your soft voice broke into his thoughts and he looked around at you. You gave him a tentative sort of look, “Where is BB8?”

His shoulders relaxed automatically, “Oh he’s on the ship I came here in...with my friends,” He grinned and you copied him, your eyes curious, “I’ll go get them tomorrow and you can meet...I have so much to tell you, sweetheart.”

Your expression softened, “We have all the time in the world now.” You reached up and stroked his jaw, the motion so familiar his eyes automatically closed and emotion swelled in his chest. Before he could reply, he felt a second, much smaller hand land on his jaw and begin to copy the movement.

He smiled, looking through his lashes to see Charlie watching you intently as she imitated you, “Clever baby,” He murmured, and Charlie lit up at the sound of his voice. He turned his head and kissed her little hand affectionately.

“She gets her brains from me,” Kes piped up, tossing a wink at you before collecting everyone’s plates. He set them in the large stone sink before glancing at his watch. “You want to put her down for the night in my room?”

As you nodded, your eyes falling from Kes to Charlie, Poe felt a flush begin to creep up his neck at the idea of being alone with you again after so much time. He wanted to hold you close with nothing separating your bodies and curl into your healing warmth. Your hand reached for his, pulling him from his thoughts, and you tipped your head toward the baby in his arms, whose eyes were blinking slowly as exhaustion set in.

“Time for bed, little Bug,” You murmured, leading Poe towards your room. The curtain across the doorway sat open, fluttering slightly in the cool evening air, and the room was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight outside and some of the filtering light from the lamps in the main room of the yurt.

Poe carried Charlie to her crib, pressing his lips gently to her forehead, “Goodnight, Charlie, I love you.” He whispered, smiling to himself when she replied with a sleepy little coo. You took her from Poe then and took a moment to show him how to put the baby down for the night.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest as he watched you soothe Charlie, your fingers brushing delicately over her cheeks until her fluttering lashes settled and a small snore confirmed she was asleep. Poe hadn’t felt so much love in such a long time, he was half convinced he wouldn’t survive all of it thrumming through him now. And Stars, he was fucking proud of you, of how good of a mother you were; you’d done an amazing job raising Charlie so far, and he briefly worried about how he would ever be able to compare to you; if he could be as good of a parent as you were.

Once you had Charlie tucked in, you pushed the crib silently into Kes’ room, then wandered over to an armchair and picked up a blanket. When you turned to look up at Poe, his breath caught at the expression on your face. “Come with me, flyboy.”

Gulping, Poe followed you outside and across the grassy lawn in silence. You led him straight to a secluded spot along the riverbank, the flow of the water the only sound he could hear aside from his heartbeat. He wasn’t exactly sure why, but he suddenly felt nervous, alone with you for the first time in over a year—he’d faced down death countless times since, and yet it was this moment that was giving him pause.

He watched as you carefully spread the blanket out on the cool grass, then slipped off your shoes before stepping towards Poe with a soft smile. “Come here,” You whispered, and he closed the gap between you both eagerly. Kicking off his shoes before pulling you against him in a crushing hug, nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar scent deeply.

He couldn’t have said who started to cry first, just that the moment he had you tight in his arms, you were both taking shuddering breaths. He let himself sob in a mixture of joy and sadness for everything, one hand cradling your head against his chest as you sniffled. “Sweet girl,” Poe drew back to look down at you after a few minutes, “Maker, I missed you. Every day was...shit, just complete shit without you.” He admitted, eyes closing automatically when you reached up to brush the tears from his face.

“I missed you too, but you’re here now, Poe. You’re here and you’re safe,” You whispered, leaning up on your tiptoes and pressing a gentle kiss to the end of his nose, “You’re safe, baby.”

He kissed you then; harsher than he’d intended, but you met him with equal intensity, your hands sliding into his hair to draw him closer, teeth clashing. The need then, to be with you, became overwhelming—he pushed your pants down frantically, then undid the tie of your wrap tunic and slid it off your shoulders, grunting when he realized you wore no chest band beneath.

You’d started undressing him, but when your hand passed over his length he brushed his fingers against your pebbled nipples in response and you hissed, body jerking away slightly. Poe’s eyes snapped open and he quickly pulled back from kissing you, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

You tugged at his shirt, smiling softly, and he removed it before glancing down your body, his eyes drinking in every glorious curve, the fullness to your breasts. “Breastfeeding is hard on these,” You replied, gesturing toward your somewhat swollen nipples, “You didn’t hurt me, just need to be careful.”

Poe nodded his understanding, surveying your postpartum body with a new wild hunger he’d never before experienced. You were beautiful, always, but something about seeing your shape with its new fullness, your milk-filled breasts and soft stomach—it made him feral. With a groan, he quickly helped you to lay down on the blanket, careful to avoid your chest as he peppered kisses down your warm body, relishing in every square inch of you. “My beautiful love,” He spread your legs apart, his hand trailing down the slit of your wet heat, “Oh sweet girl, so wet for me. You’re a fucking dream.”

As much as he wanted to taste you, lick you until you couldn’t see, the need to be inside of you was too great to allow for any more time apart. Propping himself on one arm, Poe gripped your thigh, lifting it from the ground, and gently rocked his hips forward, groaning as you tightly gripped around his cock, your body needing his just as much.

“Oh fuck, Poe...”

“I know—I’ve got you,” Poe whispered, settling between your thighs, he dropped your leg and lowered his body fully over yours, careful to keep his weight on his arm. He captured your lips against his as he slowly dragged his cock back, then rutted forward, building a slow pace meant to draw out the feeling of bliss for as long as possible. “Missed you—dreamt of you every night, baby, every fucking night.”

You had one hand tangled in Poe’s curls, the other pressed into his lower back and your legs wrapped around his hips. You whimpered, “N-never leaving you again,” The words came out strained, thick with emotion even as you moaned at the feel of him moving within you, “It’s you a-and me, f-forever. Forever.” Your back arched slightly, and Poe groaned at the change in angle, your walls clamping around him harder.

“Fuck,” He felt himself getting close and quickly slid his free hand between his body and yours, slamming into you as he circled your clit tenderly. “Forever, sweet girl, I promise—cum for me, let me feel you—“

“Poe—“ You whined, your eyes fluttering as your pleasure spiked, and he felt your body go rigid beneath him as his hips stuttered—he came with you, spilling himself with a groan as you trembled and moaned, then pressing himself as deep as he could while you both came tumbling back to each other.

When Poe finally collapsed next to you, he slipped out of you carefully before tugging you into his side, pressing his lips to the crown of your head while you both caught your breath. “Still...still got it, flyboy.” You joked, giggling when Poe shifted to look down at you with a smirk.

“I was going to say the same to you.”

“Ah well, it’s busy work running around after a baby, you know. Keeps you fit.” You grinned, snuggling against Poe as the cool night air seemed to seep between you. He reached above his head, grabbing his shirt and tossing it over your upper body to protect you from getting too cold.

Once he was satisfied you were comfortable, he rolled so that he was looking down at you, your head resting on his forearm. “Sweet girl, you—I mean, Charlie is perfect. You kept her safe, raised her, taught her who I was...I can never thank you enough, but I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying.”

“Oh Poe,” You smiled, your eyes glistening as you gazed up at him with a fondness that he felt almost undeserving of, a hand cupping his cheek. “You came back to us, that’s all I could have ever asked for—you’re alive and you’re here.” You choked up, then, and Poe leaned down to press his forehead to yours, cupping your cheek softly with one hand.

You lay together for a short while; until the cold became too much. Curling up together in bed sounded almost too good to be true. “Come on, sweet girl, let’s get some sleep,” He gathered you in his arms, pausing as you grabbed at the clothing he wasn’t going to bother putting on, and carried you into the yurt, the blanket abandoned in the grass outside.

When Poe had his body pressed against yours under the comforter of the bed you’d slept in alone all this time, he kept his arms securely around you and felt peace wash over him, “Going to introduce you to some pretty special friends in the morning, and then we can plan our next steps, my love.”

With a happy little sigh, you tucked your head into his neck and fell asleep promptly, your light snores lulling him until, just at the precipice of sleep, he smiled to himself—he was home.

The first thing you noticed when you woke early the next morning was the bed next to you was empty. Your hands roamed for Poe and when you didn’t find him you sat up quickly, wondering if perhaps you had dreamt of the day prior, of him coming home...

Only, a little giggle from outside your room sounded and you heard Poe proudly declare, “Clever, just like your mama, Charlie girl.”

You hadn’t ever known happiness like this, truly. Your heart was full and repaired and you couldn’t believe how after so much time, so many years of mistakes and pain, you were married to your best friend and he was currently waiting for you to wake up while caring for your baby, the little girl who shared traits of the both of you. This felt like a dream, but it was so raw it couldn’t be anything other than real.

You sprang from bed, throwing on your robe and hurrying out to see Poe holding Charlie as he sat in the armchair, bouncing her on his knee as she giggled for him. When you paused to watch, a smile stretching over your face, he glanced up at you and his own broadened, eyes shining brightly with affection.

“Morning, mama,” His thick morning voice always sent heat through you, and the fact that he was sitting shirtless, his hard muscles flexing as he moved Charlie only doused further fuel on the fire within. He seemed to read that in your expression, his soft eyes darkening somewhat before he sent you a wink that said there’d be time for that again later.

Charlie had looked around to follow Poe’s gaze and she cooed loudly when she saw you, her hands raised towards you. You frowned, “Oh, now you want mama time? Could it be that you’re hungry?” Charlie made grabby hands as Poe laughed and you pulled her from his arms before settling into the chair next to him, easing your robe open enough for her to have access to your chest.

Settling her in for her meals was second nature to you; you knew the way she preferred to lay, how to hold her just right, that she liked to feed quietly in the mornings but at night you were allowed to rub her back and speak soothing words to her. As she began to suckle, you carefully adjusted your breast to make the angle more comfortable, then glanced up remembering that Poe was watching.

The expression on his face was stunning—he was watching you rapturously, as though the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen. You saw emotion mixed in with the awe and the adoration, and you knew he was feeling grateful he hadn’t missed something as pure as this entirely, that Charlie hadn’t grown too much.

You leaned your head back to rest and smiled at Poe warmly, “She’s on partial foods now, you can feed her yourself a little later, if you want.” You whispered, and his face brightened even more. You felt a bit like those first days after you’d joined him and your brother on D’Qar, the giddy joy of reuniting making the smiles stretch for days.

“I’d love that,” He shuffled his chair closer, resting one hand behind where you were holding Charlie, the other raising to brush over your cheek. “Does it...hurt?”

You shook your head and his look of concern relaxed, “Not really, she’s good about not biting,” Poe cringed at the thought and you giggled, “She’s a good baby. Now, you said you wanted us to meet your friends?”

He nodded, his expression softening sadly, “They’re the reason I was able to make it home to you...I have so much to tell you, but I want you to meet them first.” Poe’s eyes dropped down to watch Charlie again and you let him have a moment, recognizing he had suffered a great deal over the year and a half apart.

You let your eyes wander over his bare torso and noticed now, in the morning light, that he had some new scars, some angrier than the others. The idea of him having been hurt made your stomach sink, and you couldn’t help but lean toward him, capturing his lips against yours when he glanced up. He moaned softly at the tender kiss, petting your hair, and you let yourself sink into the moment, pulling back only when Charlie stirred.

“Where did you leave them?”

Poe gestured toward the main village, “Just outside the village, on our ship. I could go and get them—“

You shook your head, “I think a walk will do us all good. Let’s get dressed, eh Charlie?” You made a face at the baby, who was sleepily peering up at you, happy with her tummy now full, and she smiled at your expression.

Poe insisted on changing Charlie’s diaper and dressing her, so you merely stood by and watched, handing him her daytime outfit and trying not to laugh too hard as he struggled. You could see the joy in his eyes as he attempted to get her arms through the sleeves, his big hands so incredibly gentle as he worked. It took about twice as long as normal, but eventually, Charlie was ready to go and you took her from Poe, strapping her to your chest with a sarong, watching him as he dressed.

You wanted to ask about the new scars. But you were afraid when you did, it would open up the vault he was currently guarding and all of the terrible stories would come tumbling out. Enjoying this peaceful reunion for a little longer wouldn’t hurt anyone, so you resisted the urge and instead popped your head into Kes’s room to let him know where you were going.

“It was hard, not knowing anything,” You admitted quietly as you walked along with Poe, Charlie gazing around happily. The arm draped over your shoulders tightened somewhat at your words. “Leia sure picked a good place for us, though. It’s been quiet, safe.”

You glanced at him, the tension in his jaw confirming something you’d suspected since he’d arrived-after he’d mentioned it was thanks to one of his new friends that he’d been able to find you. Leia was gone, but he didn’t know how to tell you—just as much as you were avoiding asking him for details, he was reluctant to give them.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing,” He replied softly before his eyes lit up. You followed his gaze and saw a large ship, its ramp lowered, come into view just as a familiar orange and white blur was speeding in your direction.

“Buddy!” You yelled, hurrying forward and dropping to one knee to greet BB8, one arm securing Charlie closer to ensure she didn’t get too jostled from your movements. The droid beeped and whirred excitedly and the baby began to giggle, craning her head to look at BB8. “Charlie, this is BB8, wave hi—“ You laughed as Charlie roughly flopped her chubby arm in the direction of the droid.

You could feel Poe’s hand resting lightly on the crown of your hand, and you looked up at him to speak but before you could, another voice chimed in. “Poe, man, you found them!” A handsome man with enviably smooth skin and a friendly grin was walking towards you with a pretty woman who had sad eyes next to him.

Poe helped you to stand back up, his arm securing around you as he led you forward to meet his friends. “Finn—Rey, meet my better half, (y/n), and my kid, Charlie.”

You saw the pair shoot wide-eyed looks at Poe when he said Charlie’s name, and you realized he must have told them about you, about your brother. The thought warmed your heart even further. You reached out and grasped each of their hands in turn, grinning, “It is really lovely to meet you, thank you for getting Poe back to me and Charlie safely.”

Finn smiled warmly, “Hey, he saved our asses as much as we saved his,” Poe shoved his arm playfully, laughing. Rey was quiet, you noticed, gazing at the baby thoughtfully. You wondered who she had lost.

“Do you want to hold her?” You asked, and Rey met your eyes in surprise, though after a brief pause she smiled nervously and nodded. Her smile lit up her whole face, and you were glad you thought to offer the baby as a way to pull it from her—babies had a way of making the sad a little less daunting.

You lifted Charlie out of the sarong, “Say hi to Auntie Rey, Charlie!” Charlie began to babble incoherently in that cheerful baby talk as she settled against Rey’s hip. She watched her, smiling to herself, before glancing between you and Poe.

“She’s beautiful,” Rey’s hand caught one of Charlie’s, squeezing gently, “Takes after her mama, clearly.” She tacked on, throwing Poe a look that made you laugh out loud.

Finn, you noticed, was watching Rey hold the baby with a quiet expression of adoration that made you smile inwardly. He caught you staring and grinned cheekily. As he began to chide Poe teasingly, a sudden memory came to mind, of the last time you had spoken to your father.

“Just remember, family always comes first—but we can make our own family, sweetie,” Dad squeezed your hand, “Family is what we make it, big or small, blood-related or not. So you make sure to surround yourself with good people, people you love and trust, and you’ll always have a family.”

And as you stood there, gazing at your new friends, the people who had ensured your Poe had come back to you, you realized that you were only adding to your family today. You felt like the luckiest woman in the entire galaxy, your heart was bursting with joy and hope for everything still to come.

Poe pressed a kiss to your temple, and you shot him a smile, knowing he felt it too.

Here, you thought, was where the next chapter of your life began. And you couldn’t be more excited.

A/N—THANK YOU for reading this story, for enjoying this journey with me and loving my characters so much. I’m hopeful you loved this final chapter and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. And of course, we still have the epilogue coming!🤍

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touchstarvedsam · 4 years

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So.... what are your thoughts on spn 11X17 "Red Meat"? 😉

An anon after my own heart! Brace yourselves, it’s a long one, sorry.

Red Meat is my comfort episode. I watch it when I’m feeling down, or when I need an escape. Sometimes I forget that Andrew Dabb is one of the writers because the episode is so brother -- and Sam in general -- positive. It’s definitely one of my favorite episodes, one that I will never get over. It’s one of those episodes that if I see anything about it on my dash, it’s an immediate reblog.

So, let’s recap, highlights mostly, yes?

The episode literally starts out mid-battle, which is cool on its own, but Sam is so incredibly badass. His high kick, and then headbutting the werewolf, just-- GAH. I can never get enough of badass Sam Winchester, okay?

Sam gets shot within two minutes, and if any of you know me, you know that hurt!Sam or Sam whump of any kind is my motherfucking jam. He’s my favorite character, whom I’ve loved for half of my life, and any time he’s in anguish it brings me life. Not because I enjoy seeing him hurt, but because I love when Dean worries about him.

Dean kills the werewolf that shot Sam before Sam even hit the ground, then he was at Sam’s side and digging the bullet out. Dean worrying about Sam literally feels like my life force repleting.

I also love how the scenes are played out of order. I like the aspect of that. Flashing back to Sam telling Dean about the case and Dean being reluctant. Their roles really revered, huh? It used to be Sam saying they should continue with hunting down the big bad and not going on random hunts, now Sam wants to keep on saving people on those random hunts, to keep them busy when they’re stumped on how to beat the current big bad.

In the second cabin, Corbin suggests they keep going ��those of us who can” and Dean whirls on him so fast with the “what’d you say?”

Pure, unadulterated, protective big brother. The you suggest we leave my brother, I’ll fucking kill you big brother look. The I know over a hundred ways to kill a man big brother look. The no one fucks with Sammy big brother look.

Dean shoves Corbin, then, ever the selfless man Sam Winchester is, Sam suggests they leave him, get Corbin and Michelle to safety, and then Dean can come back for him. Dean’s reaction, again, is pure big brother and I love it so much. He wants to carry Sammy. My whole heart. T.T

Dean fighting with branches sticking off a tree trunk, angrily hitting the tree, then stopping for a moment to breathe and calm himself because he knows losing it won’t help Sam.

Calming himself down before he gets back to the cabin. T.T

Sam -- dying, short of breath, wheezing -- begs Corbin to go find Dean so they can leave without him. Sam has never once put himself before others, even now when he should because of how hurt he is, and how much blood he is losing, and still he doesn’t. There isn’t a single character in this show more selfless than Sam, and this episode proved that.

Corbin suffocating Sam, and then Dean walking in to find Sam completely lifeless. I cry every fucking time Dean starts shaking Sam. (Not gonna lie, it gives me Simba trying to wake Mufasa vibes, and that hurts really bad, too, man.) Just, the look on Dean’s face. The heartbreak, the tears...

The way he says “Sammy?” broken, shattered.

Dean making the decision to stay and die fight since it’s because of the werewolves that he lost his little brother. This man literally cannot and will not live without his brother. It’s ingrained in his system, engraved on his bones and in his skin, that he never wants to be in a world where Sam is no longer alive. He can’t physically or emotionally endure that pain.

This is the face of a man who has given up, who doesn’t want to live because Sam isn’t, but right here, I think at the very last moment, Dean remembers that Sam would want him to save these people. So he makes his decision.

“I’m gonna come back for you, okay?” He gives Sam this broken, quarter smile, then says, “I promise.” Then the shaky way he repeats “okay” two more times, then pats Sam on the chest and gets up fucking shatters me in a million pieces.

His last look at Sam before leaving him... with the tears! It literally makes me tear up. This whole episode is just chock full of painful pining.

Dean punches a sheriff! I still don’t understand why he didn’t just say “my brother’s body is in a cabin in the middle of the woods and I need to get back to him” but this is Dean, and Winchesters never really do anything the easy way. I do enjoy him angrily punching a sheriff because he wants to get back to Sammy, though. It’s a highlight, okay.

Then! As if this episode didn’t already give us the gift of badass!Sam and hurt!Sam and pining!Dean! It gives us the ultimate proof that Sam is the Juliet to Dean’s Romeo! It’s canon! Canon, I say! Canon! Dean kills himself with pills to talk to Billie -- to make a deal, to sacrifice himself, anything to bring Sam back -- and roundabout the exact same time, Sam wakes up!

Dean: “Tell the doc to bring me back if she can... if not, no hard feelings.” Dean literally does not care if he lives or dies! He just wants Sam! Be still, my heart. The man pines for his little brother, and his little brother alone.

The whole exchange with Billie:

“We need to talk about Sam.”

“What about Sam?”

“I need him back.”

“Back?”

“Stop playing. Look, you got him, I need him, let’s make a deal.”

“Pass.”

Then we have Dean saying that Sam’s the only one that can stop the Darkness. It just. It feels so good to hear Dean say that, okay. Sam being recognized in any light is just very important to me.

“It’s cute, though, you pretending to save Sam for the greater good when we both know you’re doing it for you. You can’t lose him.” That’s it, that’s the whole show.

“I’m asking you... I’m begging you, please. Bring him back... Bring him back and take me instead.” I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over codependent brothers.

Then! Such glorious, such beautiful, such badass hurt!Sam! Gets himself on his feet and takes on not one, but two werewolves! With all the blood he’s lost, and the immense pain he’s in, he literally fights for his life and wins! There is not a more badass character on the planet, and I would give my life to protect that truth as gospel.

He steals their pickup, gets to the Impala, and calls Dean who literally just heard from Billie that Sam wasn’t dead. Also, can I just say that I really do like Billie? She is cool as all fuck.

Sam practically falling out of the truck is one of my favorite things. His legs move like a newborn fawn as he stumbles over towards the Impala, towards safety and Dean.

The unadulterated relief on Dean’s face when he hears Sam’s voice. God, I love these brothers so fucking much. They love each other so fucking much. I can’t believe Dabb wrote an entire Wincest episode, wow. Such a goddamn gift.

Then the panic on Dean’s face once again when he loses signal with Sam. And honestly the way Sam can even see straight and drive himself to the urgent care is phenomenal in and of itself. Is there anything this man cannot do? I think not!

The Sam saves Dean, shooting Corbin before finally giving in to the pain and collapsing. I will forever love the way he falls to the ground, the way his legs just kind of give out and he just hits the floor is amazing to me. I wish I could make gifs because I’d fucking gif the way he falls. It’s both graceless and graceful at the same time, if that makes any sense.

“I watched the man I love die... there’s no normal after that.” Dean feels her words more than anyone else, apart from Sam. Because he’s seen Sam die multiple times, and even though Sam is alive, Dean’s still not normal, he’s still not fixed. He gets that. He knows that a part of him will always be broken just because he’s watched Sam die, more than once. He’s never, ever going to be over losing Sam, even when Sam’s standing right beside him. Not to make light of the situation, but this made me think of the “Stop telling everyone I'm dead!” “I can still hear his voice” meme.

Dean helping Sam down the stairs with a hand on his back brings me the utmost joy. If I could gif, I’d make a gif of that, too.

Sam asking what Dean did when he thought Sam was dead, and giving him this ridiculously adorable squinty face!:

His little “I know you did something stupid because you’re making jokes” squint. Always sees right through his big brother.

I’m sorry for the lack of Sam caps. This episode was literally gigantic amounts of pining!Dean. He literally just wanted to be with Sam the entire episode, and Dean’s emotional anguish because he lost Sammy is such an important part of the episode. So many brother moments without the brothers being near each other. I will love this episode until the day I die and even then I will carry it with me into the afterlife to play on repeat forever and ever.

Thanks for the ask, anon! And sorry my post is so long. Red Meat is just really fucking important to me.

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queencarolinemikaelson · 4 years

Text

Beyond Mikaelson

Klaroline Bingo as hosted by @klaroline-events Prompt // Dagger

This is set early season three, and is fairly canon compliant until then, except Caroline is an Original. Very Mikaelson heavy, and a little bit gruesome/gory in parts. It’s also very long.

This will be my last contribution to KC Bingo, thank you so much to the team at @klaroline-events! I wouldn’t have got any of these out without prompting, and I’m glad to have participated in another fandom event! xxx

“Rebekah, where are you? Pick up the phone darling, daddy’s dead. It’s time for a family reunion.”

Klaus Mikaelson’s phone beeped quietly, signalling he had a call waiting on another line.

The hybrid couldn’t help the smug smirk that crossed his lips as the name Stefan Salvatore flashed on the screen.

This was going to be fun.

“Stefan! Miss me already?”

“I’m just calling to thank you for my freedom,” Stefan said on the other end of the phone, sounding far too sardonic.

“Well I like to believe I’m a man of my word… more or less,” Klaus smirked.

“The thing is,” Stefan continued. “It came at too high of a price. You took everything from me, Klaus.”

“Let bygones be bygones, trust me. Resentment gets old.”

“You know what never gets old?” Stefan asked, in a tone that had alarm bells ringing in Klaus’ mind. “Revenge.”

As the line went dead, and Klaus opened the back of his van, only to reveal nothing, Stefan’s words truly sank in.

And Klaus felt a white-hot rage bubble through his veins; a rage unprovoked in centuries.

It would be weeks until Klaus’ coffins were returned, and when they were, Klaus’ shoulders sagged in relief.

They were safe.

They were home.

They could be whole again; all five of them.

Wait… five?

Any shred of tension that left his body instantly returned.

There were five coffins, five.

Klaus often thought of there being only five in his family, which was likely why it took him so long to cotton to the fact he shouldn’t have five coffins.

He should have six.

Quaking with unparalleled rage, and a panic long lost to time, Klaus tore at the lids from the caskets, flinging each open so roughly he nearly destroyed their hinges.

Elijah.

Finn.

Rebekah.

Kol.

Klaus squeezed his eyes together for a moment, as he stood before the final coffin, knowing everything had a fifty-fifty chance of being okay. If they were together, they would be okay.

But as Klaus tried to open the box, he was met with complete resistance.

And he knew, that box belonged to his mother.

And he just knew, they had her.

His hands shaking, Klaus pulled his phone from his pocket, dialling Stefan’s number.

“Hello there Klaus, not the family reunion you were expecting?”

The young vampire sounded so gleeful that Klaus mentally signed his death wish then and there. Their history be damned, there was no repenting for this.

“Where is the sixth coffin, Stefan?” he asked, his voice shaking as much as his hands.

“Well, see, the thing is Klaus, we found your little cave paintings. We can account for everyone in the coffins, except for this one. She’s quite beautiful, isn’t she? I’m not letting loose an unknown entity in my town, Klaus. Not now. Not ever.”

“Stefan, I suggest you listen…”

“No, Klaus, you listen,” Stefan interrupted. “You’ll get a map. You’ll be able to find at least some of her. And that’s a promise.”

“Stefan, if I do not have her back before sunset, you will regret it.”

“You took everything from me, Klaus,” Stefan cried, his gleeful composure making way for his true anger. “I can’t regret anything anymore than I already do.”

“You have five hours, Stefan. For the sake of this town I hope you hand over my box,” Klaus said, coldly. “The consequences of this will be yours, and yours alone.”

Klaus hung up. He didn’t need any more of Stefan’s amateur postulating.

Nothing mattered, not without her.

Without much more than a heartbeat, Klaus circled the room, removing each dagger from the chests of his siblings.

He couldn’t worry about how they would react to him.

Not now.

It took nearly three hours before all his siblings were awake, each waking in their own time; Bekah first, Finn last.

And during that time, it had become quite apparent that, Elijah and Finn at least would not be easily swayed into helping him.

“I don’t much care that you finally killed our Father, I will never mistake our brotherhood for trustworthiness again, Niklaus,” Finn said, in the old, awkward tongue they all once spoke.

“I’m afraid I may have to agree with our eldest brother,” Elijah said, coldly, true betrayal shining in his eyes.

“I never trusted any of you,” Kol said melodramatically, eager to stir the pot. Yes, he was a little miffed that he’d been in a box for about 200 years – but had daggered and undaggered his brothers (never Bekah though) many times himself over the years. Who was he to judge?

It was Rebekah – of course it was Rebekah – who first noticed Klaus’ haunted expression.

“What is it, Nik,” she whispered, fearing the answer.

“It’s Caroline,” he said.

Her name dropped from his lips like a secret, and immediately every Mikaelson ear was tuned in, and listening.

“They have Caroline.”

Caroline was a name buried by time. It was a secret more fiercely protected than any other the Mikaelsons’ held. For she always was their saviour.

“Who are they?” Finn asked.

“The vampire who has her is named Stefan Salvatore. I need your help. We can’t let him hurt her,” Klaus explained, his sparing vulnerability revealed, even if fleetingly.

Klaus’ vulnerability, coupled with their love for their baby sister, steeled the nerves of the Mikaelson siblings. Klaus may have long since given up his right for family trust, and may have done vile and cruel things to each of them over the years. But then they all had.

Except for Caroline. Her unwavering support and love for them transcended the centuries they lived together. She would care for them, laugh with them, cry with them. And through it all, she brought a sparkling joy to their lives.

Until one day, the horrors of being a Mikaelson caught up with her, and she tried to leave. She did it with such grace; such respect.

But they had not taken kindly to her desertion, and had laid to to rest because of it.

There wasn’t a waking moment since that day, when each Mikaelson hadn’t felt their guilt keenly.

“I hope she forgives us,” Kol said quietly.

“Let’s just… get her back first,” Finn said.

“What do you need us to do?”

Caroline’s eyes were shut as she began wriggling her toes, revelling in the feeling of stretching through the awful stiffness. In her first moments awake, she felt dread and betrayal, though she couldn’t for the life of her work out where those emotions came from…

Birds were chirping in the distance, the air was fresh, and it seemed like an all-round good day to be alive.

Though she was almost instantly disabused of that notion, as she made a move to roll over, and was met with searing pains shooting through her body.

Her eyes flew open, and her heart raced, as she took in her unfamiliar surroundings; very low light, menacing stone walls, vervain soaked ropes and chains firmly tying her to a jagged wooden table. A bloodied silver dagger was on the ground, not too far from her, as though it had been pulled from her and tossed away.

A dagger.

And suddenly, Caroline’s agonised confusion made way for terrible remembrance.

“I want to travel alone for a while.”

Caroline spoke so softly, but so resolutely, that the light mood around the table seemed to still, as her statement was met with looks of confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Elijah said, incredulously, breaking the silence after a moment.

“I want to travel alone,” her voice was steady, but she dared not meet anyone’s eyes just yet. “I love every single one of you, more than my heart can bear. But families are meant to go their separate ways at some point, to live as their own souls.”

Caroline began fiddling with her fingers nervously, but continued to speak, knowing this was her only chance to convince them of her pure intentions.

“And we are a family cursed with eternity. Yes, we are sometimes stronger together, but we’re also angrier, bloodier, more terrifying. I want to discover a world beyond our existence, we have eternity to be together, what will a few decades, maybe a century, of time alone mean in a thousand years?”

“It’ll mean you left us for a few decades, maybe a century,” Finn said, coolly. “Are we not enough for you, little sister?”

“No, it’s not…”

“Caroline, you can’t leave,” Rebekah began.

“You are our sister,” Kol pleaded.

And thus, the damn of silence was broken, each sibling layering their own heartbreak and panic over the next.

“How could you possibly do this?”

“Are we that horrible a –”

“What did I ever –”

“This desertion is –”

“Please, Caroline, please.”

The only to remain silent was Klaus, fury and fear etched in every line of his face, choosing instead to regard her with the coldest of eyes – silence had always been his knife of choice with her.

“We’ll be better. I’ll try and –”

“Who on earth will –”

“You are to leave us, just like them, and –”

“ENOUGH!”

Her own anger and frustration at their judgement of her bubbled over and she couldn’t help the as the scream leapt from her mouth, her eyes turning dark, veins snaking up her face.

“Would this have been easier if I left with absolutely no warning? If I just snuck off in the middle of the night? Without saying goodbye?” Caroline asked, disbelievingly, into the silence her loss of control had created. “I love each and everyone of you, and we will see each other again. But I just want to live, for myself.”

There was silence for another moment, until Klaus finally spoke up.

“And what if Mikael finds you?”

His voice was frank, nearly nasty, and Caroline wished her husband could understand.

“He won’t, I will be less conspicuous on my own,” Caroline replied softly, the sad truth of her statement wracking through her family.

Klaus glared at her, the fear of losing her slowly seeping from his body before their very eyes, making way for only fury.

“Oh yes, Caroline, run away like the little girl from the village who could never see me with Tatia. Run away like the true Forbes your blood says you are. Remember when your parents ran from you? Because you were a monster? You will always be a monster, Caroline.”

His voice was malicious, cruel, but Caroline knew him, she knew him better than anyone, and she knew this was his way of making it hurt less.

It didn’t make it okay, but it did steel within her that this was the right choice for her.

“It won’t be forever, Nik, I promise,” Caroline said, gently placing a hand over his. “Just a little while.”

And with that, and all the grace in the world, Caroline rose, and smiled wanly at those around the table.

“I’m going to bed for the night, we can resume this discussion in the morning.”

As she retreated, she thought she heard Elijah say, “what are we to do about this?” but she blocked it out. Her mind was made up, their pleas and arguments for her to stay would not sway her.

The next morning, Caroline woke just after daybreak. She felt somewhat numb, as she relived the previous evening, but relieved that she finally shared her desires.

She rose quickly, and decided to prepare a meal for them all to share; a last supper of sorts.

As she bustled to the kitchen, she was surprised to find Rebekah already there, as the other woman usually liked to stay in bed far later than dawn.

“Good morning, Bekah,” Caroline said, softly smiling at her, as she leant against the bench next to her sister. “You’re up early.”

A flicker of something unreadable flashed over Rebekah’s face before it was extinguished with a warm smile.

“I feel awful about last night, I couldn’t sleep,” Rebekah said, real sorrow in her eyes, as she took Caroline’s hand. “You’re my sister, Caroline, and I don’t want you to leave.”

“I know, my love,” Caroline said, resting her head on Rebekah’s shoulder. “You could come with me, you know, the Mikaelson girls against the world.”

Rebekah frowned, and Caroline’s face lit up excitedly.

“Yes! Just imagine, we could go wherever we want, love whomever we please,” Caroline’s face fell a little before continuing. “I love Nik, always and forever, but it’s been over 200 years since our wedding. I think I’ve seen him share his love with dozens upon dozens of others, because I understand that life for us is different. But he’s never shown me the same mercy. Not once.”

“I could come?” Rebekah said, her mind racing with the possibilities. “What about wanting to leave us?”

“It’s not about leaving you, or any of you, it’s about living beyond this family. Living as Caroline, not as a Mikaelson. Don’t you ever want to just live slowly? Where the day is cherished, and longed for, rather than feared?”

“We have to fear the day, Caroline, we are vampires!”

“Yes, the original vampires that can only be killed by our deranged father! Living slowly means we won’t have to fear Mikael’s retribution, because he will never be able to find us!”

For a moment, Rebekah let herself dream of a life beyond the Mikaelson name. A life with only Caroline by her side, as sisters. Her sister had always been the best of her family – the most compassionate, the gentlest, the kindest.

But she shook herself; that life could not happen. That life belonged to a girl who died many years ago.

“Caroline, it is a life I do not want, I love my brothers too much.”

The two blondes looked sadly at each other, until Caroline squeezed the hand still holding Rebekah’s and sprung into action.

“Well, let us not waste this day then, my dear sister!” she said brightly. “I was going to cook a feast for our family, care to help me?”

Rebekah smiled, and nodded. Caroline once again missing the flash of guilt across her sister’s face.

It was a few hours before the two women finished their creation, and Caroline sent Bekah away to gather their brothers for the meal, as she picked up the final dish for the table.

It was a beautifully decorated ceramic dish her family purchased her as a gift, even before the six of them turned. She had treasured it and cared for it ever since. She would undoubtedly miss this place, her family, and all the adventures that came along with them – but she hoped it would do some good; learn that a family can exist as individuals.

“Good morning,” Caroline said cheerfully, as she made it to the dining area where each of her siblings were awkwardly standing around waiting for her. “Where’s Niklaus?”

She peered around, trying to find the eyes of her husband. In her distraction, Caroline didn’t notice the predatory ring her family was making around her, until she heard a light ‘whooshing’ sound, and suddenly her husband was in front of her, a glinting silver dagger in his grasp.

“I’m sorry, Caroline,” he whispered, as he plunged it into her chest.

As a reflex, Caroline’s hands flew to grasp her husband’s arms, her beautiful dish falling from her hands, becoming a mess on the tiles below.

“Please, have mercy, Niklaus,” she gurgled, as the ice cold pain worked its way through her body from her heart outwards. Her eyes flicked to the faces of her siblings, and it absolutely shattered her heart to see them watch this happen – knowing they knew this was coming.

Her eyes flicked back to Klaus’ in her last moment, and she didn’t see regret or remorse or love. She saw only fear.

Caroline let the memories and pain wash over her, and cursed herself for not being more like her family.

For if she had listened to their scheming that night, had been more mistrustful she would have learned that fleeing in the middle of the night is what she should have done.

She let out a desolate sob.

She sobbed out of fear of not knowing where she was, or when she was. She sobbed out of utter desperation for the pain shooting now constantly through her body. And she sobbed out of deep, deep betrayal at the hand of those she so loved.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

A snide voice came from a shrouded corner of the room, and Caroline was immediately silent. Her grief was for her alone, not this stranger.

“Torture time!”

The man moved from the shadows, to reveal a sadistic, smug smile – that was not dissimilar to an expression that was common on Niklaus’ face – and within an instant, had buried a jagged-edged knife into her side.

Caroline winced at the pain, but did her best to remain silent and defiant, unwilling to give this cretin the satisfaction.

“I’m going to chop you into little tiny pieces and make a scavenger hunt for the Hybrid that wants you back so desperately.”

He continued speaking as he stabbed her, and cut chunks from her flesh, but Caroline couldn’t decipher any of his words, the language he spoke far different from any she recognised.

So she did what she did best, she remained silent, and somewhat calm throughout terrible violence.

She nearly chuckled to herself at how compliant she had always been with her family. Letting them destroy towns and lives, for no reason other than the sport of it. And for them to repay that loyalty with a silver dagger, and goodness knows how many years in a coffin…

She was sickened with herself.

Klaus’s leg was twitching anxiously, waiting for the communications to come from his siblings.

The minute he had the green light, he would tear Stefan’s world down, piece by pathetic piece, for even considering toying with Caroline.

His phone buzzed with Rebekah’s name.

“Little sister?”

“Hello brother, almost every thing is in place. Finn has the quarterback and the teacher, I’ve got the doppelganger, thank you for lending me you electric razor, by the way! Kol has the witch and the doppelganger’s brother. The only issue is Elijah can’t find Damon.”

Klaus gritted his teeth.

“I think we might just start without Damon, then; we can’t wait any longer. Have Elijah help Kol instead,” Klaus said.

“And have you done your part, brother?”

“Of course I have,” Klaus snapped.

It was agreed that to lure to bait out, unfamiliar faces would be best – giving Finn, Kol, and even Elijah to an extent an advantage over Rebekah and Klaus. Though, Rebekah had put her foot down, saying she ‘dibs-ed’ the doppelganger.

And thus, Klaus’ task was to line the perimeter of the Salvatore estate with gasoline, and maybe something explosive, then dig a fire break around it, so if Stefan decided not to talk, they could control burn his life around his wretched ears.

“Are you on route?”

“Yes, we’re about five minutes away, I suppose,” Rebekah said.

“Make sure you all stagger your arrival for maximum impact,” Klaus ordered. “I want Stefan to feel hope until the very last moment.”

Without another word, Klaus hung up his call to Rebekah, and sprang into action.

And before those five minutes were up, Klaus was pulling up outside the Salvatore boarding house. He knocked commandingly on the front door, and was infuriated when he was met with a smug smirk from his former friend.

“Stefan, lovely to see you mate, I’m here to collect my prize.”

“Your prize, Klaus, isn’t here. As I said, you will never see her again, not in one piece anyway.”

For Caroline’s sake, Klaus did everything in his power to keep his calm.

“Well, in that case, perhaps we can remake an episode of This Is Your Life?”

As if on cue, Finn arrived, flashing to the front and dumping the unconscious bodies of Alaric and Matt at Stefan’s feet.

“Finn, brother, apparently Mr Salvatore here has plans to mince our darling sister, perhaps you could show him the same courtesy, using these two as surrogates of course.”

“With pleasure.”

Stefan looked between the two brothers, confused and wary, having been unable to decipher much of what they were saying.

But the meaning of the sentence wasn’t missed, as the brown haired Mikaelson bent down, and ripped the finger encasing the Gilbert ring clean from Alaric’s body, before turning to dislocate Matt’s shoulder, leaving it pointing in a wholly unnatural direction.

“Now I will ask again, Stefan, where is she?”

“I will never tell you,” Stefan spat, coldly disregarding the suffering of his friends.

“On your own head,” Klaus said, taking a step back, as Elijah and Kol, arrived on the scene, each restraining a struggling body.

“What would be the best way to torture these two?” Klaus mused aloud to his brothers.

“This one’s true torture will come in due course,” Elijah said, nonchalantly, his vice grip clamped around the muscular arms of Jeremy Gilbert. “However, I suppose I could inflict some physical torture. For effect, of course.”

“Well it’s easy for this pretty little thing,” Kol said, grinning wickedly, biting into his wrist, as forcing it to the mouth of Bonnie Bennett. “Break that connection with nature, become that disgusting creature she reviles so much.”

“Please, stop. Let me go,” Bonnie said, weakly, struggling meekly against Kol’s strong grip. “Stefan please, I can’t turn.”

“Tick-tock, Stefan, time does march on,” Klaus said. “Where is she?”

“I will not tell you,” Stefan said, furiously ignoring Bonnie’s whimpering pleas, or Jeremy’s grunts of pain.

“Fine then. Rebekah!” Klaus hollered over his shoulder.

Stefan furiously hoped they hadn’t found her. He’d told her to stay inside, to not come out for any reason. Surely she would be safe, surely she had –

But he was cut off mid-thought as a swath of brown hair was thrown in his face, and Elena’s perfect face came into view.

Stefan’s knees nearly buckled, taking in her appearance. Her face was tear-streaked, yes, but that was hardly noticeable through the blood dripping down her face from her mangled head, large chunks of skin ripped from her skull.

“I thought I would arrest her of that horribly boring hair of hers,” Rebekah said, poisonously. “It was just so straight all the time.”

“Stefan,” Elena snivelled. “Please, just tell them what they want, please.”

Stefan’s nostrils flared, and fury, and agony coursed through his veins.

“I will kill her Stefan,” Rebekah stated, her hands placing her hands on either side of Elena’s garbled face.

“What about his hybrids,” Elena said, desperately trying to bargain for her own life. “Without me, you don’t get anymore hybrids.

“You broke the curse, brother?” Kol asked.

Klaus smirked in replied and flicked his eyebrows.

“Well, congratulations!”

In lieu of responding, Klaus menacingly strode toward were Rebekah suspended Elena by her head in mid air.

“Without Caroline, hybrids mean nothing to me,” Klaus spat in her face. “So someone tell me, or all six of your pathetic little lives will be snuffed out in the most horrific way possible. And then I will find that horrendous brother, and snuff him as well. Then burn this town, and all its residents to the ground.”

The four conscious Mystic Falls residents stoically kept their silence, for a few moments, until Klaus said, “Fine then, Elijah!”

Before anyone could blink, Elijah had broken Jeremy’s back, and the young boy gargled out a cry of pain.

“No!” Elena shrieked.

“He has approximately a minute left, we can still heal him,” Klaus said, in a sing-song voice, radiating a wrath Stefan never thought possible. “Bonnie is next on the menu, and if she dies, well, we all know her fate.”

“She’s in the Lockwood cellar! With Damon,” Elena sobbed.

“Elena, no!”

“Please just help Jeremy, I need Jeremy.”

“Well, then, that wasn’t so hard,” Klaus said, as he narrowed a smirk at Stefan. “Heal the boy, Elijah. Then make them unable to follow us.”

Each Mikaelson sibling delivered a blow to their charge, and suddenly all was silent, as the whimpers and grunts of pain made way for heavy breathing.

“Does anyone actually know where this ‘Lockwood cellar’ actually is,” Kol said, letting Bonnie’s body flop unceremoniously to the dirt below.

“Well, no but I’m sure it can’t be that hard to find, given that there is a ‘Lockwood Estate’ only a few miles from here,” Klaus said. “Uh-uh-uh.”

It was at that moment Stefan attempted to run, though he made the mistake of passing Klaus, who stuck his hand out and grabbed the young vampire by the neck.

“You took everything from me, Klaus, and now this?”

“I warned you very clearly, Stefan,” Klaus said, coldly. “You and your gang have been quite lucky with your upper hand over me during the sacrifice. But I don’t fight with vigour much anymore, nothing is worth it. But you reunited the Mikaelson family, but kept one of our own to do with as you please.”

Klaus dug his fingers into Stefan’s neck, puncturing hole straight into his windpipe, and watched avidly as the blood drained from the wound.

“But Caroline, she is worth fighting for.”

Klaus dropped Stefan to the ground, only to stake him twice a moment later, one through each leg.

“Can’t you kill him already?” Rebekah whined.

“No.”

“Can we still set the fire, at least?” Kol grinned, his eyes lighting up.

“Why not,” Klaus mused.

It had been over an hour of this man striking and maiming her. And she desolately thought that perhaps in whatever time it was now, not even her family were there for her anymore.

Throughout the hour, the man, who had identified himself as ‘Damon Salvatore’ – what a strange name – had moved her from being tied to a wooden plank, to being hung from the ceiling on suspended metal hooks.

“I had these installed, just for you,” he simpered, at some point or other, though Caroline still did not understand the language he spoke.

She was in desperate agony, as this man had arrested her of her fingers, then her hands, and now he was working on her legs. She still refused to give him the satisfaction of showing him how pained she truly was, but even she wasn’t sure why she was trying to be so stoic.

Damon raised a wooden knife to her face, and was just about to drag it across her cheek when there was a violent crash from above.

He whipped around, but before he could do anything, a figure flashed into the dark dungeon and slammed his body into the stone wall.

In her haze, she couldn’t quite make out the face, but at that moment, she lost her battle with consciousness and fell back into blackness once more.

“I know it’s impossible for her to be dead, but do you think she’s dead?”

“Shut it, Kol, she’ll be awake soon.”

“She’s had blood though, why isn’t she stronger?”

“The magic literally had to heal a foot, hands, fingers and ear that was cut off, obviously that’s going to take longer than a little gash in the palm.”

The first thing Caroline registered when she began to regain consciousness was the unmistakable sound of her siblings having a whispered argument. She’d heard similar conversations many times over their lives; outside doors they shouldn’t be outside of, over someone who was sleeping, in a crowded room of too many prying ears.

Though, unlike those times, she couldn’t understand what they were saying, for they too spoke in the same foreign tongue the man in the dungeon had spoken.

She nearly shuddered as she remembered the ordeal in the dungeon, but she didn’t want to reveal her consciousness just yet.

Though it didn’t seem as though she had a chance to rest any longer, as she felt a soft hand pick up her own and squeeze it.

“Caroline,” he said. “I know you awake.”

He spoke in a tongue she recognised, and that, more than anything, compelled Caroline to open her eyes. Her gaze was met with Klaus, his own eyes filled to the brim with love and care – very much at odds with how they looked the last time she saw them.

“Hello Niklaus,” she said, her voice small and delicate.

“Caroline!”

In an instant, each of her siblings were crowded around her, all of them vying for her attention; all of them saying how much they missed her, how sorry they were, making excuses for what they did to her.

“What year is it?” she said, ignoring their words, her voice trembling a little.

“2011.”

It was Klaus’ admission, not too small to take responsibility of his actions, though each sibling had nearly a thousand years’ worth of guilt on their face.

“2011?” she repeated. “So, I’ve been daggered in that box for…”

“Nearly nine hundred years,” Elijah finished.

“If it makes you feel any better, Caroline,” Finn said. “They got me only about 200 years after you, and I was only woken a few days ago.”

“Yes, and me and Bekah have been in and out of the boxes since about then as well.”

“Is this a joke to you?” she levelled Kol, who at the decency to look a little ashamed.

Caroline’s cold gaze moved to her husband – though it nearly revolted her to call him that now.

“And you… you’ve been living… awake… that whole time.”

“Yes, my love,” Klaus said, his deepest shame staring him in the face. “I will do anything to ensure your forgiveness. I love you, Caroline.”

Tears began to well in Caroline’s eyes at his proclamation. For he, still, after over 800 years apart loved her – or so he said.

And for Caroline, her love for him, and for her family, had not been time-tested. She had fallen asleep what felt like yesterday, and then woken up today, no time having passed at all. She loved them all like she loved them then – though their deep and unjust betrayal of her battled to be acknowledged.

“How is one supposed to live in 2011,” she asked. “You all seem to speak the same strange language that the man in the dungeon spoke.”

“It’s called English,” Kol said. “Old Finn over hear isn’t very familiar with it either, though he’s taken to it quite quickly.”

“There’s really a lot of things you would need to catch up on…” Rebekah said.

“Clothes, cars, television.”

“Electricity! The internet.”

“Hot showers – I guess, showers at all.”

“Flushing toilets.”

“Shorts and jeans!”

“Western medicine.”

Caroline listened closely as her siblings listed off so many words she never heard of, nor could even conceive, and it made her blood boil with anger.

“I think you all need to go,” she said, so quietly, they could barely hear her.

“But Caroline…”

“Go!” she spat. “Find something that will teach me this English, then stay away from me for a few days.”

Later that day, Caroline heard a knock at the door of her room.

The knock was light but firm, and Caroline just knew that it was Rebekah on the other side. Apparently some things hadn’t changed over the years.

Without waiting for Caroline to invite her in, Rebekah opened the door and stepped through it, a burly, unshaven man following her in.

“This is Alaric, he’s a teacher,” Rebekah said. “He’s going to teach you modern English. You shouldn’t have too much trouble with it, when you… left… we spoke what they now call ‘Middle English’. There is overlap with root words, and sentence structure. And in any case, you were always the best of us at picking up new skills.”

“I didn’t leave, Rebekah,” Caroline snapped. “The five of you put me down. For 800 years.”

Rebekah flushed furiously, but didn’t say anything, just left the room.

“Uh hi,” the man named Ric said. “I know you probably can’t understand what I’m saying, but I have no idea how to help you… I’m a history teacher, not an English-as-a-second-language teacher. But is there a difference to a thousand-year-old vampire who won’t take no for answer? No there’s not.”

Caroline smiled tight lipped at him, not catching a word more than ‘vampire’.

“This is a chair, I guess,” Ric said, pointing to the chair.

“Chair,” Caroline repeated.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’ awkwardly. “Chair…”

Six weeks later

It had been over a month since Caroline and the rest of the Mikaelson’s had been reunited, and she was still with them in Mystic Falss.

She had been living quite the wild crash course in modern day life, and she was annoyed to admit, she was slipping back into old patterns with each of her siblings. Joking with Kol, reading with Elijah and Finn, giggling with Rebekah. She had even kissed Klaus a few times.

She was now pretty fluent in modern English, and knew about showers and the internet. She refused to get behind the wheel of a car, because she didn’t see the use of them at all anyway.

She was tentative friends with Ric, who she learned only yesterday had been compelled to teach her – a compulsion she freed him of immediately.

She was regaled with many things the family had done other the centuries, and had been given the run down of what went on in the little town of Mystic Falls, during the sacrifice, and the aftermath, as well as what had taken place to get her back.

And through all of this she had not left the Mikaelson Estate alone. It wasn’t that she felt trapped there, as such, but she also knew if she tried to go anywhere, she would be sent with at least two of her siblings, and it irritated her somewhat that even now they were holding her as a bit of a hostage.

“I am going to the village,” Caroline said, now trying to speak only modern English, where possible. “Alone.”

“No you are not,” Klaus spluttered.

“Yes, I am,” Caroline said defiantly. “I am an adult woman, Niklaus, and you will not tell me what I can do. Goodbye.”

With that, Caroline turned on the heel of her very new boot, and flashed away.

Once in the centre of town, Caroline actually didn’t know what to do with herself.

But was spared the trouble of coming up with an idea when someone walked into her.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she said, apologetically. “I am very clumsy.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the man said. “It’s – it’s you.”

“Do I know you?” Caroline asked, peering at the tall, dark haired man with interest.

“I’m Stefan Salvatore, maybe you’ve heard…”

“Oh… yes… I’m Caroline,” Caroline replied, awkwardly. “I’m really sorry my family were so awful to you… they can get pretty protective.”

“I’m sorry I told my brother to chop you up into little pieces…”

“Your brother?” Caroline said, incredulously. “Yes, you should be sorry, that hurt.”

Caroline let out a tinkling laugh, unable to hold much of a grudge against the man before her. Sure, Niklaus hated him, but didn’t mean she had to. In fact, it would probably irk Niklaus greatly if she were to befriend this young vampire.

And boy Caroline would love to do anything to irritate Klaus.

“Do you want to get a drink? I’ve been in that box for almost 900 years, I have five friends in this time, and they put me there. I could use… someone new.”

Stefan frowned, sensing it was a bad idea.

“It’s not a trap, I promise.”

Caroline gave him her most sunny smile – it was a smile that got her in and out of trouble a lot of the years – and Stefan relented.

Stefan led Caroline to the Mystic Bar and Grill and Caroline took a seat awkwardly, while Stefan ordered for the two of them.

“So, who are you to the Mikaelsons?” Stefan asked.

“Niklaus and I married when I was quite young, so he’s my husband, and the rest are my siblings.”

“By marriage?”

“Yes, but I grew up in the hut next to theirs. They’re more my family than my blood family ever was.”

The two of them chatted away, Caroline learned a lot about Stefan’s life as a vampire, as well as his life in Mystic Falls over the last two years. She couldn’t always understand the words he used, but he was kind enough to stop and explain whenever such a word came up.

Caroline couldn’t help but feel at ease talking to him, despite his obvious unstable side, she could sense there was a lot of goodness in his heart – even if it had been poisoned somewhat by time and sadness.

It was a familiar sense – it was what happened to her family.

“May I ask a personal question?” Stefan asked, to which Caroline nodded. “Why did Klaus dagger you?”

“It was not just Niklaus,” Caroline said, sadly. “We were all living together, and they all liked being vampires, the murder and the power. I didn’t want that. So I told them I wanted to travel alone for a while. None of them wanted me to go.”

“I see,” Stefan said, shrewdly. “That’s why they were so willing to band together to save you, when they should have been angry with each other.”

“I suppose, plus I am the best sibling.”

“I can see that,” Stefan replied, slipping the lightest of flirts into his voice. “I guess you’re lucky I came into your life. I freed you.”

Caroline stiffened.

It was a thought she’d had a few times since waking, though it was one she always pushed to explore later. But having it so casually raised with her, she realised she couldn’t deny the question anymore.

“I’ve got to go.”

Klaus was sitting agitated in his study.

It had been six whole weeks since his family had been reunited, and there were times when it felt like nothing had changed. But there were also times when he could set fire to west wing of the house and still would receive no attention from any of them.

He supposed that was fine. It wasn’t an unfamiliar dynamic.

But, he reasoned, he was the only one of the six of them who remained awake the entire time. He guessed he wished they needed him more, the way he needed them.

Suddenly the door to his office flung open, and there stood Caroline.

Her eyes were full of tears, her cheeks flushed from what he could only assume was the run home from town.

“Would you have woken me if Stefan hadn’t kept me?” Caroline asked, in a strangled voice, reverting back to their old tongue for her own ease.

“What?” he asked, defensively.

“Stefan just said to me that maybe it was lucky he took me, because he freed me from your betrayal.”

“Stefan just said to you, Caroline? Your friends with Stefan now?”

“Don’t avoid my question, Niklaus,” she said, dangerously. “Would you have woken me now? Would you have woken any of us now?”

“Mikael is dead, Caroline, it was my plan to insight a family reunion.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question!” she sobbed. “If Stefan hadn’t woken me to torture you, would you have woken me now? You reasoning has always been Mikael would have killed me if I was alone. So, now he’s dead, would you have woken me?”

Klaus mouth stayed tightly shut, unable, or at least unwilling, to answer her.

“How could you?” she asked, her voice so broken.

“Caroline, you have to understand, you –”

“Understand what, Niklaus? That I wanted a life beyond this family, beyond you?”

“I was –”

“I don’t care, what you were,” Caroline cried, tears freely pouring down her face. “You robbed me of eight hundred years of life that you got to live. You got to live beyond me! Why could you never offer me the same kindness?”

“What if I lost you?”

“What if you lost me?” she shrieked, the words tearing her throat. “Your sense of love and loyalty to me is completely insane if you think keeping me dead in a box wasn’t losing me, Klaus.”

“Caroline, please, I –”

“Don’t you dare say you love me, Klaus,” Caroline spat, the tears on her flaming cheeks mixing with the sweat and mucus dripping down her face, forming a grotesque imprint of the Caroline he’d loved and lost so long ago. “I could have been there in 1492 when you tried to break the hybrid curse the first time, I could have been there when you adopted your son in New Orleans, I could have raised him with you! I could have been there to cheer you on when you finally succeeded in breaking the curse this year! I could have been around for all of it!”

“But you were leaving!” Klaus said, finally beginning to match her level of rage. “How can you not see how ridiculous your notions of ‘being there’ are, when you were – by your own admission – trying to not be there!”

“You’re unbelievable, Klaus,” Caroline scoffed. “That you still fail to see my side of this at all, proof that I was right back then.”

“I can’t stand you when you’re like this, Caroline,” Klaus muttered. “Just get out of my sight.”

“No,” Caroline said, giving Klaus a look of pure petulance. “What did you do with my stuff?”

“What?”

“Way back then, what did you do with my stuff? My books, my dresses, my everything!”

“I packed them in a box and it travelled with us.”

“Good, where is it?” Caroline asked, petulantly. “I want it.”

“Cellar.”

Klaus grunted the last two syllables as he brushed past Caroline, and stalked away from her.

She rolled her eyes, but made her way to the cellar instead of engaging him further.

Elena Gilbert was sitting on the couch in her home shaking intermittently.

The past year had taken its toll on the young woman, and the events of only the last couple of days had served to shake her more deeply than she thought possible.

She refused to see Stefan, or Damon – both complicit in disregarding her life, and the life of her family for their own revenge fantasies. She ordered both Jeremy and Bonnie be in her vicinity at all times, though she rarely spoke to them. Matt and Ric were allowed a little more freedom, but had to call or text her every couple of hours.

Despite the fact she was completely healed, thanks to vampire blood, Elena could still vividly feel the vicious and cold pain Rebekah inflicted upon her. And every time she looked in the mirror, and saw her bare head, her eyes would fill with tears, for her scalp was just a visual representation of all she lost since turning sixteen.

She flinched as there was a sudden knock at the door.

She knew Bonnie and Jeremy were upstairs, and Matt and Ric were at school, and surely Stefan and Damon knew better than to come grovelling for her forgiveness so soon?

Trying to pull herself together, she bravely stood up, wrapped her cardigan more firmly around her, and answered the door.

“Hi,” the blonde on the other side of the door said softly. “I’m Caroline. Are you Elena?”

Elena nodded jerkily, but didn’t say anything.

It was at this point, Bonnie came down the stairs, and, recognising Caroline, pulled Elena from the door.

“Elena, don’t, she’s one of them.”

Caroline smiled sadly – that was a line she heard frequently her entire life. She was one of them; a Mikaelson. Once she vowed her life and heart to Niklaus, she doomed herself to an eternity of spite and shame.

“They don’t know I’m here,” Caroline said gently. “I don’t even want to be invited in.”

“What do you want?” Bonnie said, tersely.

“To apologise; my family betrayed me, and I guess they thought their saving me this time would make up for that. I’m sorry for everything they’ve undoubtedly done to you. My husband, especially.”

“Which one’s your husband?” Jeremy asked, from his position behind the two girls.

“I’m sure you can guess,” Caroline huffed. “Niklaus is a brutish man, and I am loathed to admit regret for anything, but now…”

She left her sentence hanging in the air, leaving all four of them to contemplate the terrible twists and turns their lives had taken.

“It is strange,” Caroline said. “I feel as though, perhaps in another life, another universe, I could be a close friend to you three. But I don’t believe that’s for this life.”

For the first time in a few days, Elena gave a small, guarded smile to the blonde at her doorstep, and it was enough for Caroline. It was all the solace she would get from this particular encounter.

“I brought you this, I used a photocopier, whatever that is, to make you a copy from one of my old books.”

Caroline placed an envelope at the foot of the door, and took a step back, gesturing for them to take it.

“What is it?”

“It’s a spell I weaved myself, back when I was a girl, I was a witch, you know,” Caroline said, wanly. “It should spark hair growth. Over night, you should be able to regrow all the hair my brat of a sister stole from you, in any style you want. There’s also instructions on how to spell your hair to different colours, lengths etcetera.”

Elena’s eyes widened, and tears filled them.

“I know it’s not much salvation from the destruction that tends to follow my family, but hopefully it’s something. The world needs pure souls like the three of yours, and I want you to still believe there are good people out there.”

Without another word, Caroline turned and left.

She heard a quiet ‘thank you’ when she was half way across the street, and she smiled sadly again, unsure of where to go now.

It was a few days later, as that sun began to peak its beams through the trees, and Klaus was quietly reading when he heard a heartbroken wail, that was unmistakeably his little sister.

“Rebekah!” he called, jumping from his armchair and dashing toward her.

She was crumpled in a heap on the marbled floors of their kitchen.

“What’s the matter,” Klaus said, alarmed, as the rest of their brothers joined them.

“It’s Caroline,” she cried, barely audible through the choking sobs ripping through her. “She’s left us."

It was then Klaus noticed the the thick paper clutched in Rebekah’s hand, and the matching envelopes addressed neatly to each other them on the kitchen bench.

“I don’t know if she’ll want to come back this time,” Elijah said.

“Of course she will,” Finn encouraged.

“She can’t keep away from us forever, she won’t be able to help herself,” Kol joked, weakly.

Klaus reached for his own letter, dread coursing through his veins.

And, as he read both letters she left for him, he couldn’t help but think maybe he would never see her face again.

Hope you enjoyed! I also hope there’s not too many mistakes, I couldn’t bring myself to read this monster again!! Much love xx

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaroline fanfic #kcbingo2020

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heauxplesslydevoted · 5 years

Text

Fracture (King Liam x MC)

Summary: Inspired by this post from @ao719 and set immediately after TRH Book 2, chapter 1. The King and Queen have their first major blow up.

A/N: This was hard for me because I see both of their sides so perfectly, and I adore Liam so being mad at him, even fictionally is a challenge for me, lol

Tags: @senseofduties @lapisreviewsstuff @akacalliope @badchoicesposts @drakewalker04 @canknot @sirbeepsalot @hopefulmoonobject @eadanga @texaskitten30 @the-unconquered-queen @flyawayboo @aestheticartwriting

The air in the parlor is practically crackling with energy as Queen Kendall glares at her husband. There’s way too many emotions swirling around right now—anger, joy, confusion, relief, fear—and she can’t seem to get a firm grasp on them.

This is supposed to be the happiest day of her life, of their life, but it’s not. Liam just agreed to give their baby away.

He waits on baited breath as she finds the words to respond to him. To say Liam is nervous is an understatement. Anxiety is a cruel mistress and she has a firm grip on his throat.

“You did what?”

“I agreed to their terms for an alliance.”

“How dare you? You married our daughter off and she’s not even a full day old yet!”

“Kendall, you have to–”

“I don’t have to do a damn thing!” Kendall hisses. “You caved! We’ve been working on ways to subdue them and keep them at bay for months, and you give in to their whims like that?” She snaps for added effect.

The heartbreak is the worst. Not once in their relationship has never done something like this without telling her. She never thought she’d experience a betrayal, from him of all people, on this level. “You made a monumental decision that affects not just us, but our daughter. Our home! Our country! And you did it unilaterally. What happened to us being a team?”

“It wasn’t an easy choice to make, and I didn’t take it lightly.”

“My daughter is not a commodity to be sold off to the highest bidder, Liam.”

Liam reaches out to touch Kendall, but she recoils from him. The act makes his heart shatter in his chest. “My love, please understand. There was no other choice.”

“There’s always another choice,” Kendall argues, a bite in her tone that Liam isn��t used to. “You’ve opened the floodgates now. We gave into their demands, with no security on our side and nothing in return. Cordonia loses! And now that they have the upper hand, who’s to say they won’t come back with more demands?”

“They won’t.”

“Oh, because Bradshaw and Isabella are paragons of integrity?”

“I’m sorry,” Liam says. “I did what I thought was best.”

Kendall ignores his apology, biting down on her tongue so she doesn’t say anything she’ll later regret. Instead she looks down at Eleanor, her precious baby girl. A baby whose future is already set in stone, bound to a stranger in a foreign land, not someone she meets and falls in love with organically. It’s not the life she deserves. A tear rolls down her cheek, mourning the life she envisioned for their baby girl.

“You fought so hard to marry me,” Kendall says softly. Her voice cracks slightly and Liam feels even worse than he did. “You were determined to be with me, because we were in love, and you couldn’t live a lie. You couldn’t just marry for duty once you discovered that true existed. You said I changed your life.”

“You did,” Liam insists. “Kendall, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Then how, after going through what we’ve gone through, after experiencing true love, how could you marry Eleanor off? How could you rob her of the opportunity?” Kendall implores. “After seeing how upset and betrayed Olivia felt after she found out her parents married her to someone as awful to Anton, you turn around and do the exact same thing.”

Liam struggles to find the words. He wants to explain himself, he wants Kendall to see that he only had them in mind.

“I did this for you, my queen. I did it for both of you.”

Kendall shakes her head, refusing to listen. “You let them leverage me, like my life and Eleanor’s life are nothing more than bartering tools. I was scared and vulnerable, and you let them manipulate that.”

She sighs an exhausted sigh. Between finding out Godfrey murdered her mother-in-law, being trapped in the palace like a hostage, going into labor and nearly dying, and now this, she’s drained.

Kendall turns towards Liam and looks him in the eyes. “I’m too tired to continue this conversation, so I’ll end it with this. You’re the fucking king of this country, and you better employ every single drop of power that title has bestowed upon you to fix the mess you put us in, and I don’t give a damn how you do it. Rob, kill and destroy, hell start World War 3 for all I care.”

She stops, contemplating her next words. “Hear me well when I tell you this, Liam. I have endured a lot when it comes to living in this country, being the Queen, and being your wife, but this, I will not stand for. I will burn Auvernal to the ground before I send my daughter there to be a pawn in the game of politics. And if you don’t rectify it, and rectify it soon, I will go to that godforsaken country and split both Bradshaw and Isabella from navel to jugular myself, and I’ll do with a smile on my face.”

A chill runs down Liam’s spine at his wife’s words. He’s never seen her so angry before, it’s downright scary. “I promise you, my queen, I’ll fix it.”

“Good.” She hastily wipes away another tear from her eye. “Can you get Mara or Bastien?”

“Of course. What’s wrong?”

“I want to go to our chambers and I’m going to need some assistance getting there.”

“Nonsense, I can help you with that, darling.”

Kendall lifts herself off of the couch and immediately grabs the arm with one hand to steady herself. She wobbles a bit, slightly dizzy and Liam places a hand on her back.

This was supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be happy together. But in this moment, Kendall can hardly stand her husband’s presence. “If I wanted you to escort me, I would’ve asked you.”

He falters, taken aback at the harshness. He’s never seen this side of Kendall. But he can’t blame her. He deserves it. “Very well. I’ll call Mara for you.”

~V~

Liam anxiously paces back and forth in the palace suite. Kendall’s been in labor for almost six hours, floating in and out of consciousness.

Drake runs a hand through his hair and huffs. “I can’t stand here anymore, I’m going to go help Olivia and Mara break down those doors.”

“I’m sure there’s a battering ram in this palace somewhere,” Maxwell muses silently.

But Liam just ignores them. He goes back to Kendall’s side and presses a kiss to her head, whispering calming words in her ear.

“You’re doing so amazing,” he tells her. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“Liam, I can't do this anymore,” Kendall says with a whimper.

“Yes, you can. You’re so strong, you’re almost there.”

“I’m tired.”

“I know.” Liam runs a hand through her hair, uncaring that it’s damp with sweat. “I just need you to stay up with me. Can you do that?”

She goes quiet for a long while and Liam stiffens. Finally she responds with, “I’ll try.”

“And you’ll succeed. Because I love you so much, and we’re just now starting our lives together. We’re so close to our happily ever after.”

Kendall leans in to his touch and closes her eyes again. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you and our baby so much.”

“I love you too.”

When silence fills the room again Liam looks down and sees Kendall has gone under again. “Kendall.” He shakes her shoulder to no response. “Kendall, wake up, baby. Wake up.”

His blood runs cold and again shakes her, much more forcefully, but her body is limp under him. His fingers slide to her neck, checking for a pulse. When he can’t find one, that’s when he flips. “KENDALL!”

Liam awakes with a start, cold sweat dripping down his forehead, heart beating wildly in his chest and his breathing erratic.

Tears stream down his cheeks as he struggles to calm down. He takes a moment to survey his surroundings, quickly realizing that he’s not in his bedroom, but in one of the spare bedrooms of his private quarters. Kendall is noticeably absent, the left side of the bed is cold and empty.

The dream—nightmare—was too realistic. Was it even a dream at all? Or was it actually a vivid memory?

On wobbly feet, he jumps up and rushes towards out of the room. He stumbles through the long hallway until he makes it to their master suite. He throws open the double doors, startling his wife. She’s awake, sitting up in the middle of the bed, baby Nori sleeping soundly in her bassinet beside her.

“Liam, what on earth are you doing?” Kendall looks at the time on the small digital clock on their bedside table. It’s almost noon, the arrival of their baby girl completely throwing off their concept of time.

He doesn’t say anything, he just rushes over to her and sweeps her in his arms. Kendall can feel his heart beating fast against her own, and every muscle in his body is stiff.

He holds her tightly against him for a long time, refusing to let go, afraid of what might happen if he did. Images of cold and lifeless form still cloud his mind. “You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive.” Liam releases her from the vice-like grip she’s in, and that’s when she notices that his eyes are bloodshot and there are tears streaming down his cheek.

Now she’s alarmed. Always one to remain calm and composed, Liam hardly ever cries.

“Liam, what’s wrong?”

Liam shrugs off the question. “Nothing, it’s nothing. I just needed to check on you.”

“You burst in here like a bat out of hell,” Kendall deadpans. “And you’re crying. Talk to me.”

“I just had a nightmare,” he confesses quietly, peering into the bassinet to get a look at his daughter. Not wanting to disrupt her too much, he runs a finger through her curly hair. She moves slightly, but doesn’t wake fully. “You were in labor, and you just kept passing out. And you were so...pale and weak. And I was trying to keep you conscious, but eventually you just closed your eyes. You closed them and they never opened again.” A strangled sob burst from his chest and he tries to clamp down on it in vain, but it comes forth anyway. His entire body shakes as the weight of everything crashes down on him. “You died.”

After hesitating for a moment, Kendall wraps her arms around her husband. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his tears hitting her skin.

“Well that didn’t happen,” Kendall declares stubbornly. “I’m right here.”

“B-but it could’ve happened,” Liam argues, his voice muffled. After a few more seconds, he removes himself from Kendall’s embrace. He stands, drawing himself to full height and closes his eyes. “There was so much going on last night. I had just found out one of my father’s closest friends and advisors, one of my trusted advisors...mur–” he chokes on the word, shuddering as he spits it out, “murdered my mother. My pregnant mother. And there’s absolutely no time to process it because you went into labor, and there were so many complications.”

“Kendall, I don’t think you understand just how close you were to dying. How close I was to losing you. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, and just last week we had that car accident and–” Liam pauses. He drops to his knees and looks up at his wife, eyes still glossy with unshed tears. “I couldn’t think, I couldn’t breathe. The Auvernese guards had the weaponry to break down the barriers, and I was willing to do anything in my power to get Dr. Ramirez to you. It was a terrible decision, but you were mere minutes away from going into full blown eclampsia and dying and I couldn’t let that happen, not when there was a solution in front of me.”

“Yes, Isabella and Bradshaw are horrible people for dangling your lives above my head, but you’re alive. Our daughter is alive. You have every right to be mad at me, but as long as there is breath in your body, I am at peace. I would make a deal with the Devil himself if it meant you and Eleanor were safe. I apologize for betraying you, but I can’t apologize for doing what I did to keep you alive.”

A tear falls from Kendall’s eye and she wipes it with the back of her hand. She didn’t even realize she was crying.

Hearing Liam explain himself forced her to look at things from his perspective. It was a shitty situation all around, and he was cornered in a time of vulnerability.

“I’m sorry for lashing out at you earlier,” she whispers. “I’m just feeling a lot of feelings right now, and I got really scared on top of being incredibly hormonal, but you didn’t deserve that.”

“I did.”

“No, you didn’t,” Kendall insists. “I didn’t put myself in your shoes. And if it was your life on the line, I would’ve walked through the pits of Hell for you and our baby.”

The King releases a sigh of relief and his head falls forward. Kendall’s fingers graze his scalp, massaging away some of tension.

“What did I do to deserve a Queen as amazing as you?” Liam muses. He takes Kendall’s free hand and presses it to his lips.

“I don’t know.” She takes her hands and cradles Liam’s face, forcing him to look at her. “But my forgiveness has its limits. Don’t you ever, ever do something like this again. You’re not Constantine, and I’m not any of his wives. I will never be kept out of the loop. We do things together, 100 percent equal at all times.”

“Yes, my queen.”

She leans forward and presses their lips together in a kiss that’s over far too soon for Liam’s liking. “We’ll figure this Auvernal thing out together, like we always do. And they’re going to regret the day they ever decided to go against Kendall and Liam.”

Liam nods and wraps his arms around Kendall again. And for the first time in over 24 hours, he feels like he can breathe.

#playchoices #choices: stories you play #the royal heir #the royal romance #king liam #king liam x mc #pixelberry

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asecretreylo · 5 years

Text

A Blinding Star | Part One

*+*+*+*TROS Spoilers!!!!!!!!*+*+*+*

CHARACTERS: Rey x Ben Solo RATING: Mature GENRE: Fix-It Fic, Romance, Adventure WARNINGS: Character Death, Depression, Angst — but it’ll get better, I promise!

Author’s Note: I have to hurt everyone before I make it better. I’m so fucking sorry :( Also I’m super nervous about this. It’s my first Reylo fic and I’ve got plans to (hopefully) make it good. I hope everyone enjoys!

+*+*+ Tags are open! Message to be added! +*+*+

A vacuum of silence. A deep rumbling that broke through. Flashes in the darkness. Pain that etched through every inch of his body.

Was he dead?

Honestly, Ben Solo couldn’t be sure. He should be dead. Palpatine draining from his life force had already weakened him. Throwing him into the pit should have been the final deed.

And yet…

Ben’s eyes flew open, and disbelief fell over him at seeing that he was in fact not dead and not at the bottom of some trench on Exegol. He was alive. His body was more than a little broken, but he had had worse. From what he could hazily gather, he had landed on an outcropping of rocks not far down from where he had been thrown off.

A groan left him and it reverberated through his head, his hearing still muffled from his fall. He more than likely had a concussion. His breath wheezed as he rolled over onto his side — add a possible broken rib or two to the mix. Ben pulled in a slow breath, categorizing everything in his body for anything else that may be worse. Scratches and forming bruises on his arms and chest. A pain in his side, probably from the hard fall. His right leg burned but was not broken. He had feeling in every limb.

Alive. The thought resonated through his mind.

“Rey.”

Her name passed through his lips softly and without too much thought, like it always did. As the fog began to lift in his brain, his hearing coming back sharp, she slammed back in the front of his mind. His heart leaped in a panic at having lost connection with her while unconscious.

Ben pushed himself up and immediately reached through their bond for her, praying. Feeling her warmth through the Force had become so natural and normal to him over the last few years, to not feel the pulse of it now was like being doused in a lake of ice.

“Rey, please,” he begged softly under his breath, eyes closed as he frantically moved through the Force around him in search of her.

No. No, no, no…

The panic and heartache seized him harshly, threatening to pull back dark thoughts. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t allow it to happen. They had come so far, they were so close. Rey would not give up, so Ben would not lose hope now.

Unable to connect with her, he struggled to his feet. In his haste, he almost tumbled over the edge, but something pushed him back. He took a moment to clear his senses, force himself to make his movements more carefully — he would be no help to her if he did fall to the bottom as Palpatine had meant.

He had to get to her. So he climbed, struggling to find footholds along the cliff face. The more Ben moved, the more he began to realize his injuries weren’t as small as he originally assessed. But it didn’t matter.

Only Rey mattered. Getting to her drove him on in desperation.

It can’t end this way.

Finally, his hand grasped the top of the trench in the rock. His breath was coming in sharp gasps as he used what strength still flowed through him to pull his broken body up. It felt like a lifetime passed before he was able to stand on his feet and stared out across the barren plane.

Ben’s chest burned, lungs ached, limbs felt heavy and sluggish. But nothing compared to the broken disbelief that welled in him as he looked for Rey.

There, before the charred remains of the harness of Palpatine, lay a crumpled body, dressed in white, gleaming in a pool of light from above. Ben swallowed hard, and if his heart could stop, it did right at that moment.

“Rey,” he breathed her name. It burned through him.

Without a second thought, he took a step toward her, then another. Each movement caused a searing pain to erupt through his body but he continued to push. He couldn’t feel her presence in the Force around him …

The panic surged through him as he continued to reach out to her, feel for her in each of his steps.

No, no, no.

Ben’s legs shook with pain, his foot falls unsure. Halfway to her, he stumbled as the wound on his right leg crippled him and he pitched to the ground. His teeth ground together against the sharp pain that echoed everywhere in his body. Swallowing hard, he pressed his palms into the rock, forcing his breath to slow from the harsh pants. Ben focused his energy on pushing through the pain, and with a heave, got himself back up on his left leg.

His eyes trained on Rey’s body, Ben pushed forward again toward her, gripping his side against the new pain that bloomed there. It meant nothing … getting to Rey was all that mattered. He repeated it over and over, a last mantra to get him to his goal.

Coming around her, Ben fell once again to his knees — not from the pain this time, but from the image of her still form before him.

His vision clouded and once again her name left his lips like a soft chant. Panic gripped his chest fully now as he crawled toward her, an arm going around her as he still desperately sought her signature in the Force.

But it was cold. As cold as her skin when he gently moved her around to cradle her body in his arms.

Her beautiful hazel eyes were open and dim. She had stared at him with hate, malice, confusion, understanding, hope, relief … but now, the coldness, the light gone in her hurt him more than anything else.

“Rey?” Ben questioned softly, hand holding her head up. “Rey, please…”

She can’t be gone… not her.

His emotions rioted. It was almost as it was when the Darkness taunted him, drawing strength on his panic, his anger, his confusion. It swelled in him and pulled and tugged. His heart rate spiked and Ben’s vision clouded with tears.

He wasn’t sure why, but he looked around searching for something … anything that could help him bring her back.

Help me! he screamed into the Force. Uncle? Father? Someone, please! It should be me…

The thought consumed him and Ben choked on the sob in his throat, pulling Rey up against him. He hugged her close, feeling his facade crumble, the utter heartbreak nearly overtaking him.

It should be me.

There’s still time, a voice suddenly echoed in his head and everything around Ben seemed to still.

Looking out across the space as he clutched Rey, a shimmer of light appeared. It didn’t form into a complete figure, but it didn’t need to. The Force signature was as familiar to him as his own, the voice slightly different than he remembered, but still undeniable.

“Mom,” Ben choked out, his body shaking.

She can come back, Ben. You can do it. I will help you, Leia Organa’s voice sounded in his mind.

And her words brought the clarity he sought, the answer he needed. Determination steeled his nerves. Leia’s presence gave him hope. Love for Rey gave him strength.

Ben pulled back, gently laying Rey across his lap. Drawing in a deep, calming breath, he pressed a palm against her torso and his eyes fluttered shut. The noise around him ceased until all he could hear was his breathing. He pushed the air in and out of his lips slowly, allowing his mind to settle on his own Force signature flowing through him.

Then, like so many times before, Ben opened himself to Rey, bridging the space between them with the Force. And it poured from him like a river tumbling over a cliff into a pool below. He felt it filling her up, radiating from her center and coaxing hers awake once more.

But … it didn’t feel enough. Ben tried his hardest not to panic, to stay connected with the Force and trust in it. But the longer he sat, eyes closed and palm pressed against Rey with her not moving, the more the ugly truth wormed into his heart.

It’s too much, he thought. I’m not strong enough after all…

And before he could break the connection, before he gave into the doubt, Ben felt the light press of a palm against his shoulder. The signature was warm, sure, comforting…

Don’t give in, Ben, his mother’s voice spoke. We can do it together.

Ben drew in another deep breath, feeling Leia’s presence pass through him, down through his arms, his palm, down from his fingertips into Rey.

Please, he pleaded with anyone who would listen. Please, don’t let her go this way.

After a moment, his mother’s signature faded, her Force flitting away as quietly as it had appeared after expelling itself. Ben swallowed hard — he had failed…

A warm hand on the back of his across Rey had his eyes flying open and focusing on her face. Then she blinked once, twice before she pulled in a startling breath.

Rey, gaze wild and confused, sat up in his arms. Ben felt the questions flitter across her mind hastily, too quickly for him to hold on to. But he let them go easily. They didn’t matter. She was alive. He could cry from the relief, the happiness he felt. It didn’t matter that she was surely about to push him away. It was enough of a balm to his soul to see her breathing, moving, alive.

But Rey did not pull out of his arms. She did not call him a monster or even Kylo Ren. Her hazel eyes, the most beautiful he had ever seen, did not cloud with disgust as she raked her gaze over his face again and again.

Ben’s heart leaped into his throat as Rey slowly, softly smiled at him. He felt her utter relief at seeing him radiate from her like a blinding star. He couldn’t stop the spark of hope that lit his veins as she breathed one blessed word.

“Ben.”

Her face broke into the brightest smile as she said his name, his given name. And Ben was almost knocked over by the sheer joy that swept off her Force and into him.

Ben was shell-shocked, unable to move as he held his breath and felt Rey’s hand lift toward his face. Her fingertips brushed so softly against the line of his cheek, his jaw. His heart hammered so loudly, he knew she could hear it.

This had to be a dream. He died in that pit and this … this beautiful woman before him who he had fallen so deeply in love with, she was just a vision.

Still, he allowed himself to hope and his lips twitched with the echo of a smile. Rey’s eyes shifted from his and down to his mouth. Then to his cheek where her hand touched his skin, back to his eyes, and then again dropping to his mouth.

The string he always felt tethering them together pulled taut. Ben saw the decision she made before Rey even moved to make it.

Her palm cupped his cheek and Rey surged forward, her mouth pressing against his.

Ben’s soul may have left his body, he wasn’t sure. But what he did know was kissing Rey was like a beautiful dawn on Naboo. Like the warmth he felt laying on the beaches in the lake country. Like the soft breeze that traveled through the halls of the summer home his mother took him to.

Kissing Rey was every good feeling and moment of his life rolled into one amazing action, coming from the heart of this amazing woman who had believed in him, saw the light in him when he thought there was nothing left.

The kiss ended softer than it began, with Rey pulling away first and looking at him shyly almost, her hand on his cheek still and her eyes shining bright.

“It’s not a dream,” she whispered.

Ben let out a puff of a laugh, the first smile he’d had in ages pulling at the corners of his mouth. The most beautiful part was how the action brought a look of awe to Rey’s face, her fingertips tracing the laugh lines around his mouth, her thumb caressing his bottom lip.

He felt more alive than he had in years … which was why when the coldness seeped in, his face fell in disbelief.

Rey’s eyes went wide as she sensed it too. “No,” she breathed. “No, Ben. Don’t … don’t leave!”

She gripped his hand, her body following his as he fell back.

“Rey,” he breathed out again, a tiny bit of fear racing through him before the calm return.

“Don’t you dare,” she breathed, the fire and venom back in her voice as she hovered over him.

Ben breathed out and smiled up at her again, “It was worth it, sweetheart.”

He squeezed her hand before he let his eyes close. At least I got to see her smile at me … just once.

+●+●+●+●+●+

“No, Ben, no!” Rey cried, tears clouding her vision as his brown eyes closed.

She squeezed his hand, desperate to get him to gaze up at her again. This was a cruel joke — why? Why was he allowed to bring her back and then leave her?

It’s not fair! she screamed into the Force. Bring him back! Bring him back now!

But it seemed that now Rey had served her purpose, had killed the liar Palpatine, the voices left her empty again.

So to hell with them. Rey would do what she had always done — she would find her way on her own. She shifted quickly to bring herself up on her knees, one hand still clutching Ben’s ice-cold palm. Her other hand wiped away the tears that she stopped immediately.

Drawing in a long, soft breath, Rey leaned over and pressed her forehead to Ben’s. “I refuse to let you go, you stubborn ass Solo,” she breathed. “So … be with me.”

She stared at his closed eyes, the Force swirling around her and him both, but going nowhere.

Frustrated, Rey pushed through another deep breath and let her eyes close.

“Be with me,” she whispered, pulling on the tethers of the Force she felt around the two of them. “Be with me, Ben. Please.”

Rey.

It was Ben’s voice, but it sounded so far away. Far away and continuing to fall further from her.

Her emotions swelled again and she shook her head as tears came back, “No, please. Please, Ben. Be with me. Don’t leave me.”

Rey! The loud voice of Master Skywalker shook her to her core and caused Rey to gasp and sit up.

“Master?” she called, eyes scanning the barren wasteland of Exegol around her. “Master, help me!”

Rey, you have to leave, now! The fleet is falling!

“Not without Ben!” Rey cried out, clutching at the man’s hand.

There’s no time, not now, Luke’s voice was firm. Rey, there’s another way. But you have to get off Exegol, now!

Tears blinded her again, “I can’t leave him,” she breathed, head falling to his chest.

Rey, you have to let him go so that you can save him.

She didn’t understand, but … something in her told her Luke was right. And so she let go of Ben’s hand. As soon as she released him, her heart broke as Ben began to fade from her sight.

“Wait!” she panicked, gripping at his now empty black tunic. “No! Please, no!”

Rey, get to the ship! Now, before it’s too late! Luke’s voice begged her.

Rey grit her teeth and forced herself to her feet. Ben’s tunic was clutched in her hand and her other shot out, calling both the Skywalker and Leia’s sabers to her. And then she ran.

Debris fell around her and she deflected as much as she good as her heavy footsteps carried her closer to her ship. The entire way, she continued to reach out through the Force searching for Ben. But she couldn’t feel a thing.

Breaking through the mist surrounding the Sith Temple, Rey’s breath caught in her throat. Next to the X-Wing she had flown in stood an Imperial Class Tie-Fighter, a stark companion to her ship. Of course he dove into the wreckage of the Death Star to find a way to her …

Rey! Move!

At her former Master’s voice, Rey looked up and raised a hand, catching the large piece of ship debris falling toward her X-Wing.

“Master Skywalker,” she called out. “I can’t leave Ben trapped here!”

Still so stubborn, just like him, Luke mused frustratingly in her mind. Get your ass in the ship, Rey! It’s not over.

Anger boiled through her veins, but hearing the destruction above her, she knew Luke was right. And so Rey left the surface of Exegol, tears of heartache and frustration streaming down her face as she coaxed Luke’s old X-Wing into the air. The weight of the two lightsabers were heavy on her hip — just as heavy as the tattered black tunic that had been on Ben’s body, now folded in her lap. The only thing she had left of him.

This is not right, her broken heart cried. This cannot be right!

She refused to believe he was gone. But Luke said it wasn’t over and she wasn’t going to stop trusting him now. She would find a way to bring Ben back.

#Reylo #Reylo fanfiction #Reylo fanfic #Rey #Ben Solo #Rey x Ben #TROS fix-it fic #my writing #A Blinding Star

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sidespromptblog · 5 years

Text

Liar: Part 5

One, Two, Three, Four, Six, and End.

Summary: In the midst of a breakdown, Deceit comforts Logan. It is while doing so that Logan decides that if the others can't accept him for him... then he'll just be what Deceit is... another liar.

Word Count: 2220

The moment that he entered the kitchen, hearing the clattered of too many cups and the smell of coffee and tea being prepared Patton felt something in his chest tremble as his bottom lip wobbled at the onslaught of tears that threatened to overcome him. He.. he had never seen Logan so overtly furious before, and never before had it ever been aimed at him. He’d always said that he needed two cookies for bad days, but today… it felt like not even a million cookies could ever begin to make him feel like a normal functioning side ever again. He felt split, right down the middle as he struggled to both shove down the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him, and just weep like there was no tomorrow.

Was this what Roman and Remus had felt like when they’d been split apart?

He hoped not, because honestly… what he was feeling right now was awful, and he wouldn’t wish it on his greatest enemy even if he had one.

The sight of Roman hovering over the stove hastily preparing the tea that he had said he was going to get ready for everyone blurred as the tears swept over his vision again, and before he could even think to stop himself a whimper curled up in his throat stopping Roman’s actions dead in their tracks. His hands remaining frozen where he held the mixing spoon hastily stirring the tea in an effort to keep his mind off of things, however, at that sound… that one little sound coming from Patton his entire world froze in a heartbeat as his breath caught in his lungs.

“Mi Cielo!” The words rushed out of Roman as he quickly put the teapot on a cool burner, wasting absolutely no time at all as he rushed to Patton’s side. “Oh, Cielo please don’t cry.” He practically begged as he cupped Patton’s face like it was the most important thing in the world to him, and he was… he honestly was. But watching Patton break down right in front of him left his heart feeling open and jagged, like the rocks of a tomb that hundreds of climbers had perished on.

He felt like he was breaking, even if he was entirely whole.

Patton’s bottom lip wobbled as the tears streaked his face, “I..I’m sorry!” He stammered out, his fingers curling into Roman’s shirt as he practically threw himself at the creative side burying his face into his shoulder as he felt those warm hands rubbing up and down his back just as they always did. “I’m so sorry! I.. I didn’t mean for any of this.. I.. I do want us to be..to be a…”

“Patton…” Roman stopped him before he could say another word and just make himself that much more upset. “My love, my heart, and my joy... we.. we can’t be a family.” He whispered, just feeling Patton’s tremblings increase at his words, and even despite this he kissed the top of the moral side’s head in a placating manner. “As it stands… We can’t even accept the sides of Thomas that are scary to him, we argued and ignored Logan to the point that he needed to leave us, and… and we weren’t exactly welcoming to Logic, Patton. I love you… but I will not lie to you about this. To them, we.. we are the farthest thing from family, you don’t hurt family. And as much as I regret it, we.. we have hurt them all a great deal. We can’t just wipe that under the rug, they deserve better than that.”

It was true, they had come to accept Virgil sure… but it was only after he had ducked out and had made his own feelings about them very clear. And even then… it seemed like Virgil still forgot that he didn’t need to be on the defense with them, especially given how much Roman got in bed with him at the end of the day with his own feelings hurt and stripped away thanks to the barbs of Virgil’s words. Roman had Patton, to hold him and make him feel better at the end of the day, but… nobody had been there for Logan.

Why hadn’t he been there for Logan too?

The familiar feeling of guilt spread its inky webs through his heart, making him clutch at Roman all the tighter.

“I’m such a hypocrite,” The moral side whispered into Roman’s shoulder, “I talk about how lying is so bad.. and shouldn’t be done no matter what. And.. and here I am, lying to myself, and everyone else constantly, I lied when I said that I was just Thomas’ happy emotions, and that when I thought I could hide everything with a smile. No wonder…” The guilt increased like an anvil of weight on his chest as he choked the words out, “No wonder Deceit’s grown tired of hiding, we use assets of him and.. and Remus every single day, and then deny they exist at all. I’m such a hypocrite, I’m such a ba-”

“No!”

Roman growled the words out, as he detached himself from Patton. He wouldn’t stand to hear that last word come from Patton’s mouth, he would not stand for it to leave his lips… he couldn’t. Stroking away the leftover tears away with the pad of his thumb, Roman leaned in stealing whatever words Patton could say with a soft and tender kiss that would have gone on and on had it not been for the overbearing knowledge that other people were waiting on them to come back and actually give them tea. If they stayed in here too long… there was no telling just what would happen next with Logan and his ability to now tell their lies apart.

So it was with great reluctance that Roman pulled away, as Patton’s once tearstain face was now stained with various shades of pink.

If he hadn’t been smitten for Patton before… well, then this most certainly did it.

“Come on mi Cielo, help me with the tea? You know how Logan likes it best right?” It took a few seconds, as Patton hurriedly wiped the remaining tears from his face and put on an affectionate smile that said more than words ever could. But eventually, he nodded before pushing the sleeves of his cat hoodie up and getting to work right alongside the creative side. “Great,” Roman murmured, swapping one last chaste kiss with the moral side before they both got to work.

The smell that filled the kitchen was absolutely divine.

They ended up carrying the various array of mugs out on the biggest plate that they had, it wobbled precariously at times. With the massive mug that belonged to Logan and the thin delicate teacup that was Roman’s taking up a good chunk of space on the same platter. But nevertheless, they managed to get all of them out there, setting the cups in front of each side. It had been all too easy to hand Virgil over his cup of tea, and even easier to go right ahead to sipping on it like he usually did. But… Patton honestly didn’t think that there was anything as hard as putting Logan’s starry mug in front of him, and watching him not drink a single drop of the warm liquid that was inside of it.

“Its..” Patton swallowed thickly at the piercing stare that snapped up to him the moment that he opened his mouth. “It’s mocha mint, just how you like it.” He offered, folding his hands behind his back in an effort to hide just how badly they were trembling. He couldn’t stand the piercing untrustworthy stare that Logan had saddled him with, it hurt… it hurt more than any heartbreak ever had in his entire life.

But… he had done this, so he would accept whatever consequences came his way.

A rush of relief swept through him though, when Logan still eying him cautiously, gingerly picked up his mug and took a delicate sip from it before blowing on it again. He still trusted them well enough to actually eat in front of them, let alone something that they had made, so that was more than what could be said when Virgil had first started joining them for meals. So maybe… just maybe things weren’t totally lost between all of them, maybe there was still some semblance of hope that remained between them.

Logan blew on the warm drink again, just to stop the cup hovering right under his lips as he saw Logi.. no Delta’s lingering but equally stare focused on the cup in his hands. “Here,” He mumbled, carefully passing the cup over to him, “Blow on it first, it’s still a little warm. You might like it.” He offered, quirking a tiny smile at the sheer newborn curiosity coming off of Delta in waves. He.. he was very much like himself, when Logan had first formed for Thomas. He had been curious about everything, to the point that Patton had made it rule that he had to wear oven mitts for safety whenever he walked into the kitchen at one point.

Those days had been amazing, better than amazing really…

Gone.

“What’s the taste?” Patton could have melted at the childlike curiosity written all over this new Logic’s face, as sipped and sipped again from Logan’s mug with the scientific calculations of someone who was conducting tests. It reminded him eerily of those times when Logan would create “potions” out of random things he found in the imagination. Which usually just ended up being big pots of mud that Logan was stirring with a stick he had found, that had never stopped him though, especially when Roman started to play alone. Creating quests in search of Logan’s legendary potion ingredients.

Those had really been the days that they had got alone best, nothing like now… where the only way Logan would look at them, was with a scowl.

“That’s mint, it's a cold taste. While the other is bits of chocolate, it's smooth.” Logan helpfully explained as that smile… that tiny warm smile that lit up the smallest parts of his face seemed to shine. “It tastes good yes? The combination is one that I am quite particular for it, even… they seem to know that.”

That stung.

Patton couldn’t help but to sharply wince at the direction of those words, as he clutched his warm cup even tighter as soon as his hands started to tremble again. He could already feel his bottom lip starting to wobble again, but… for the sake of everything, he pushed past that and the tears that so desperately wanted to make themselves known again. He needed to be strong, and he needed to do this and make sure that everything could start getting headed in the right direction. The others, whether they knew it or not looked to him for guidance as Thomas’ moral compass, and he couldn’t let them down more than he already had. He needed to do this… he had to. No matter how much it would sting what little pride he had left, it.. it needed to be done.

“Logan,” Patton’s voice remained surprisingly steady as he set his cup down trying to remain as serious as possible, he had to fix things, no he needed to fix things before... Before what? Things had already gotten awfully out of hand. “Logan, if and when you are able to, I would like you to summon him… so that I can talk with Deceit. Not you,” He quickly clarified as soon as he saw the slightest inkling of Logan’s eyebrow starting to rise up towards his forehead. “The.. the other Deceit, Logan.”

Almost immediately suspicion raced through Logan’s blood, making his heart hammer in his chest. “Why?” He cautiously hissed, his muscles bunching up, as his body immediately starting itching for him to get up and go, as if getting ready to run a marathon to who knows where. “Why?”

Roman and Virgil’s gazes said something similar, although the anxious side’s expression spoke more of sheer uncertainty more than anything else. So they both hadn’t seen this coming, all things considered, so Patton was springing this up out of nowhere… or maybe he had time to think about it. Logan couldn’t exactly tell from the stiff expression on the moral side’s face alone, what he could tell though… was that Patton looked guilty.

And guilt was suspicious as hell.

“It’s nothing bad,” The truth burst over Logan’s tongue like the sweet juice of an orange, but it only made him relax in the slightest way possible. Not bad… but to who? “I just… I want to talk to him about his place here as one of Thomas’ sides, as… as one of his dark sides. That’s all.” Patton calmly explained his hands up in that universal motion of peace and order, even though the last thing that Logan felt was peace and order with words like that coming from Patton’s mouth as he stepped closer little by little before gingerly placing his hand on Logan's knee giving it a little squeeze. “Call him whenever you like Lo, I can wait.”

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cheekaspbrak · 5 years

Text

I Don’t Like Girls

Summary: I fixed the “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls”/Castle Byers scene. I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2508

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x Will Byers

Warnings: SEASON 3 SPOILERS

This helped cure my post Season 3 depression and I hope it does the same for you!

Will’s heart was thundering so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t hear anything else Mike was saying. His lips were moving and he was looking at him intently but Will’s breath was caught in his throat, trying to find a way out. Will began to feel lightheaded before Mike even noticed that he hadn’t made a sound in quite some time. Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, which made him jump back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mike asked, like he always did, with concern in his eyes. His hand dropped away from Will’s shoulder. Will tried to convince himself that he was getting worked up for nothing, that the churning in his gut was ridiculous, that opening his mouth would only make the situation worse. But there was this gnawing feeling in his chest, like a secret trying to crawl its way out with its imaginary claws tearing at his ribs, pushing back against his lungs, knocking out any air he tried to breathe in.

“What did you mean by that?” The words tumbled out even though he fought against them. He felt his body shake, not from the rain and the breeze, but from fear.

“By what?” Mike was dense, always had been, but right now Will wanted to yell at him for being so dumb and making him have to do all the talking.

“You said I don’t like girls.”

Mike’s brows knitted together out of confusion which, Will fondly thought, is how he looked nearly all of the time. The warm feeling this thought sparked in his stomach was quashed immediately by a clap of thunder. Will’s eyes turned towards the sky briefly.

“I don’t know-” he paused, looking like he was trying to figure out why Will even cared, “I just meant that you don’t seem to have any crushes on girls like the rest of us.”

He shrugged, using a hand to wipe away the droplets of rain that had fallen on his left arm.

“So?” Will questioned defensively, immediately regretting his tone of voice.

This time Mike squinted at him and Will felt like a little kid trying to get away with something while his parents interrogated him. He shifted his weight back and forth between each foot, and opened his mouth to talk again, but Mike beat him to it.

“I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean you’re gay or anything like that. I just meant you don’t have a crush at the moment.”

Mike’s lips turned down in disgust when he spoke the word “gay”, and Will had to look away to hide that his lips were trembling.

“Right,” He said quietly, then added, “Okay.”

He turned to look out at the pouring rain, the tall green trees, the old station wagon in the driveway. It all reminded him that he lived in Hawkins, a small town where everyone knew nearly everyone else's name, where the large majority of the people had voted for Ronald Reagan. He had seen the magazine articles about how the President was refusing to comment on the AIDS epidemic, aside from a few horrible jokes that made his eyes and nose sting with tears. He couldn’t have expected Mike to react any other way, and yet, he did.

“Are you okay?” Mike inquired again. The rain poured down even more, and Will had to raise his voice to respond.

“No,” he gripped onto the front of his bike, “I’m going home.”

The whirring of his bike as he zipped down the road helped drown out whatever Mike was yelling after him. He didn’t want to talk anymore, he felt more like an outcast now than he ever had throughout middle school, even after “returning from the dead”. He knew Jonathan had said being an outcast was a good thing, that it made him unique, but he wondered if he would say the same thing if he knew that he liked boys. Part of him defiantly thought “it doesn’t matter if they approve, you should be allowed to love who you want” but another, much more deep-rooted part of him cried out desperately for approval and love.

He found himself in Castle Byers, sobbing and tearing apart drawings and pictures and so many memories he knew he should keep but couldn’t be bothered to care about. He had felt a lot in those past few years- sadness and heartbreak and terror- but not until now had he felt this all-consuming rage that was seeping down his spine to his shaking fists. His mind was so blindly angry that he was not even sure if he was mad at Mike or Lucas or Eleven or the mindflayer or his dad or...himself. Maybe he was just mad at himself. If he could just be normal, even though Jonathan hated it, his life would be so much easier. He could like girls and talk about how good they looked in shorts and he wouldn’t stutter whenever he was scared and maybe he wouldn’t even be scared if he was just...normal. His body moved on its own as another noiseless sob came out, his breath shuddering. He climbed out of Castle Byers with a bat in hand, shook it around to feel its weight, then lifted it up over his head. He screamed as he brought it down, and WHAM!- it came down on a hand outreached to stop it. He scrambled back, chest heaving and tears pouring down his face. He felt fear wrap around his heart like an old friend before he recognized that the hand was attached to Mike who was now shaking his hand wildly and shouting various curse words.

“Oh god!” he groaned, rubbing it with his other hand, “I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea.”

Will felt horrible instantly, lunging forward to inspect the injury to the best of his ability with tears still streaming out of his eyes.

“Are you- are you okay?” He stumbled over his words as he winced at the bruising already evident on his hand, but Mike pushed Will away to get a good look at his face.

“Seriously?” He asked incredulously, looking equally amused and upset, “You’re having a full on meltdown out here and you’re asking if I’m okay?” Will closed his eyes against the new tears flooding to the surface, finding comfort in the knowledge that Mike was there because he wanted to make sure he was okay. He thought about the pictures he tore up moments ago and whimpered quietly, his head hanging low.

“I’m so sorry.” The words came out as a hoarse whisper and the bat dropped to the ground with a loud thump. He felt Mike’s hands come to his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to reach forward and hug him, but he stayed perfectly still.

“What are you sorry for? I’m…I’ve been a terrible friend. This whole summer, I’ve been terrible. Lucas and I were talking on the way here and I-” He swallowed nervously and dropped his hands down to his sides, “I’ve been so involved with El that I haven’t been making any time for you.”

Will knew he was right, that he should be apologizing for constantly blowing him off. But he also knew that his jealousy was abnormal, that it stemmed from something other than being a hurt friend. He looked back up at Mike, ready to apologize again.

“I’m also sorry for implying that you were gay.” Mike said, so quickly that Will almost didn’t hear it. He took a step back like Mike had slapped him. He could feel hot tears spilling over onto his cheeks again, and he started wiping at them angrily, “Will?” Mike’s hesitant voice called over the rain.

Will looked at him again and took all of him in. His frizzy hair, his soft brown eyes, his sharp nose and jaw, his stupid yellow button up. He wanted to remember him this way: doused in rain, one hand appearing to reach out to him, eyes narrowed with care and concern. He wanted to be able to think about this moment years from now, not the one that was sure to unfold: the look of disgust, the way his hands and body recoiled, the way he turned on his heel to stalk back to his bike.

“I am gay, Mike.”

He tried to say it with as little emotion as he could, but he could hear his voice waver nonetheless. Mike’s eyes fluttered, he looked confused again. Will desperately wanted to believe that he wouldn’t pull away, that he wouldn’t laugh about it with Lucas on the way home. But he watched as his fingers twitched and his mouth moved around soundless words in bewilderment.

“You’re...gay?” Will squeezed his eyes shut tightly, only nodding his head in response. He could hear the fluttering of the blanket on Castle Byers, the booming of thunder miles away. He could feel the droplets soaking through his hair, running down his scalp, and warm, skinny arms pulling him into a tight, bone-crushing hug.

His eyes opened like a bolt of lightning struck him and he threw his arms around Mike like it was second-nature. His lungs were filling with air like he hadn’t been breathing for years. He felt like he was floating on a cloud on a warm summer day, not sobbing in the rain. It took him longer than it should’ve to realize that Mike was also crying into his shoulder. He stepped back from the hug to stare up at his face. When was the last time he had seen Mike cry? Had he ever?

“Why are you crying?” Mike’s smile was small and sad, and Will suddenly remembered the last and only time he had seen Mike crying. ‘You said yes” echoed around in his head, Mike smiling down at him with tear-coated lashes.

“Because I’m gay too!” Mike’s voice was rough with tears but his eyes were beaming with joy, “I mean, I’m not entirely gay, I’m like...half? I think? I like girls but I like guys too and-” As he chattered at a hundred miles a minute, Will’s heart rate sky-rocketed, “-oh my god, I never thought I would be able to say that out loud.” He choked out the last sentence, a strangled sob caught in his throat.

Will had no words, and yet so, so many. His chest moved up and down but the rest of him was completely still.

“You…like...guys?” Was all he managed to get out before his bottom lip started to tremble. He didn’t know why he was shaking- maybe from relief, or excitement, or fear. Everything he’d been telling himself from the first terrifying moment that he’d caught himself lingering on Mike’s lips- that he was insane, and gross, and wrong- was being debunked right before his eyes. Because this was Mike, and he was saying he felt that way too.

“Yes!” Mike answered, giggling, “And, more importantly, I like you.”

“What?” Will spluttered, “Me? I- you like me? What about...what about El?”

Mike’s face had gone from overjoyed to nervous as Will spoke, “El and I just broke up, I know. But, I...I don’t know. It didn’t sting. Is that a horrible thing to say? I just, I didn’t feel anything anymore. But everytime I look at you, wow, I feel everything,” His voice trembled while he spoke, and he looked at the ground in embarrassment, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I won’t stop being friends with you and I won’t tell anyone about this. Just, please don’t stop talking to me if you don’t like me back. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Will rarely saw Mike this vulnerable. His eyes were bloodshot and his nose was running, he was wringing his hands and his shoulders were shaking. He couldn’t believe what he was saying. That he, Mike Wheeler, who so fiercely loved and protected and cared about Eleven, felt more strongly about him.

When he started to laugh, he knew he fully deserved the bizarre look Mike gave him, “You can’t...like me. Nothing ever goes right for me! Seriously! I was stuck in the Upside Down for a week. I was possessed by an evil mind flayer. I have been hopelessly in love with you- a boy- for longer than I can remember and you’re telling me you actually like me? This has to be a joke!” He was laughing so hard his stomach hurt, and Mike quickly joined in. He felt like a little kid for the first time in nearly two years. He dropped the weight on his shoulders and let himself laugh so hard he was crying again with his best friend.

“I may love pulling pranks on you, but I promise this is not a joke.” Mike finally said through giggles stepping closer to Will and wrapping his hand around the smaller boy’s.

“Friends don’t lie.” Will quipped. His cheeks were aching from the dumb smile on his face.

“I’m not lying!” He gently pushed Will and their giggles fell silent, leaving nothing but the sound of the rain. Mike’s eyes were intensely focused on his, and Will suddenly realized that he was soaked to the bone, had been ugly-crying for nearly an hour, and probably had snot on his face, “Um, should I kiss you now or…?”

“No.” Will answered quickly, immediately regretting it, “I’m just...scared. I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

He thought maybe that could be a deal breaker, that Mike would be annoyed because he’d been making out with Eleven all summer and probably knew exactly what he was doing. The gentle smile that spread across Mike’s face let him relax a bit, though. “That’s fine. Why don’t you just...tell me when you’re ready? You can take as long as you want.”

Will inched closer to him, squeezing Mike’s hand, “Really? You’re okay with that?”

Mike pressed a tender kiss to his temple, causing his stomach to perform an Olympic gymnastics routine, “Of course I’m okay with that. Now let’s go inside before we get electrocuted out here.”

Will remembered exactly what it felt like when he woke up after Hopper saved his life in the Upside Down. His nerves were on fire, his lungs hurt when he took a breath, but he felt like was coming home. He felt like he had been given a second chance. He felt the same way right in this moment, with Mike’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, leading him into the house where they would spend the night laughing and playing games and dressing up in dumb costumes because they were best friends, and nothing in the world could change that. Not even them fighting for their lives against the mind flayer, or Will moving away, or their awful, spitty first kiss that they would have months later because that’s just how first kisses go. No matter what, they would always have each other.

#will byers #mike wheeler #mike x will #will x mike #Byler #byeler #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things 3 spoilers #st #st3 #stranger things spoilers #my writing #byler fanfic #byler imagine

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imastrangeone98 · 4 years

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Lost and Found - Chapter 16: One Last Obstacle

(A/N: the ultimate showdown is beginning to make an appearance! I'm pretty excited, wby non-existent fans??)

Here's some bad nice little filler before the main event. Also wow spoiler alert: I made Gabriel a super creep and it made my skin crawl just writing it

Also wow this is the longest chapter by far I think. Beware XD

WARNING: this chapter may contain sensitive discussion on god and religion. If you're someone easily sensitive to this, then plz do not read

The trio landed on the marble floor, quickly examining their surroundings in shock.

"What the hell happened?" Lady asked, gripping tightly at the Kalina Ann.

"Is it me, or is everyone dead?" Dante chimed in, kicking at a nearby corpse.

Faith closed her eyes, and felt around her surroundings, searching for any emotion from the fallen angels- fear, pain, despair, anything- only to find absolutely nothing. "It seems that with God's purification, the angels somehow lost the source of their power, and the loss of it must have been too much for them to handle."

"Honestly, if you... purified it- Him... shouldn't they get stronger?" Her friend scratched her head in confusion. Lady always hated when something couldn't quite click in her head.

"Perhaps... the angels were never as angelic as the Bible made them out to be. And God was not the holy being that everyone believed Him to be."

The half-demon hummed. "I mean, look at His insides. That shit was black as sin."

"Yes-"

RAGEHATREDHOPEGRIEFMOURNINGLOSTFAMILYLOSTFATHERLOSTELIZABETHELIZABETHELIZABETH-

She flinched. "Dante. Lady. You need to leave now."

"What? Why?" He turned to her, reeking confusion. "They're all dead; we can go home."

"No," the nephilim corrected. Panic began to settle in her bones. "There's one left."

"How? Who?"

"The strongest of all. Gabriel." Fear made her stomach churn. She frantically pushed them towards the exit high above. "Dante, I want you to fly Lady back."

There was a soft beat of wings somewhere in the cavern.

He approaches.

"What?! No! What about you?" Lady stubbornly planted her feet on the floor. "We're not leaving without you."

"Ditto." Dante placed his hands of Faith's shoulders; they were shaking. "I'm not losing anyone else."

He's scared, she realized. He was terrified; he had lost his mother and his brother- he refused to lose any more that he cared for... Like me.

"Dante..." she tried to reassure him, holding his trembling hand. "I'll be okay-"

His hand suddenly squeezed hers painfully. "We need to go. Now."

ELIZABETH!

Faith's head ached. "Go!" She pushed at her friends, urging them to hurry. "Go!"

"Faith!"

Time stood still. The overwhelming grief that suddenly filled her was physically staggering. Images flew through her mind- images of a beautiful young woman in a flowing white dress, of her smiling at someone, of her taking a walk in a blooming meadow with a small bundle in her arms-

Of her face twisted in agony as her wings were ripped out of her shoulder blades.

Faith collapsed to the ground. Her entire body trembled. Tears spilled out of her eyes, and she squeezed them shut.

Why? Why did that hurt her so much? She didn't even know that woman, yet she could feel the pain. Her shoulders burned, as if it were her wings that were being ripped off.

"Faith!" Someone called to her. Who...? "What's wrong? Come on, we need to go!" Warm hands cradled her, and she was suddenly lifted into the air. "Hey, asshole! Leave us alone!"

A voice boomed, "GIVE HER TO ME!" It was so strong, it felt like her bones were shaking.

"FUCK YOU!" a high-pitched voice screamed.

LOSSMOURNINGGIVEHERBACKTOME!!!

Her body felt heavy, a useless weight in someone's arms. She would only slow them down.

And that was exactly the archangel's plan.

Pain rippled throughout her entire being. More images of the mysterious woman flashed behind her eyelids.

"Let me go," she croaked out. "Run."

"No!" Oh, so it was Dante. His cinnamon fragrance was familiar. How had she not recognized it earlier? "We can make it!"

"It's me he's after," she said, looking up at her companion. It hit her- this could be the last time she would see him. No doubt Gabriel had something horrendous planned for her. With some effort, she stroked his cheek. "I'll hold him off. Go home."

Something wet fell on her cheek. And she was shocked to see him cry. "I won't leave you."

He would fight. She knew this. If it meant that she'd go with them, he'd do anything. And she refused to see him die trying to do so.

"I'll be okay," she whispered, patting his arm. "Trust me."

Lady rushed to their side, tears streaming down her cheeks- no doubt it was Gabriel's handiwork. "We can't hold him off! What do we do?"

Dante was silent for a few precious seconds. Then, slowly- painfully- he set Faith on her feet.

"Dante...?" Oh, no- she suspected something.

"We need to go." His voice was brittle; the fear and heartbreak that radiated from him was almost enough to break Faith completely. Almost.

Lady stared at him, the suspicion gleaming in her eyes. "What's going-"

Instantly Triggering, he grabbed his friend's arms, hoisting her up. "No time. It's ride or die."

"Bye, Lady." Faith brushed her fingers over her cheek, one last time, embedding it to memory. "I'll see you soon."

"Wait, what-?!" She never got to finish her sentence, as she immediately started screaming when the half-demon took off, zooming through the exit above them.

They took her heart with them.

But of course, there was no time to mourn. Gabriel was upon her. And she would have to face him, whether she was ready or not.

And she turned, finding herself face to face with the archangel himself.

And archangel he was indeed. His entire form radiated power: he stood tall above her, sunlight eyes ablaze with some emotion even Faith couldn't quite explain, hair as fine as corn-silk delicately framing his face, his body rippling with pulsing energy that nearly sent her reeling.

Yet she remained standing. Her violin- pieced back together and lined with new gold- manifested in her hands. "I know who you are," she managed to say, swallowing down her fear and growing sense of deja vu. "And I'm not afraid of you."

"Nor should you be," he replied, brushing a stray hair out of her face. A gentle smile traced his face. "You have her eyes."

"Whose eyes?" she asked, beginning to wonder if talking with him any further was a good idea. Despite his smile, something sinister lurked underneath.

Something... unclean.

"Elizabeth." His eyes turned soft, like marigolds swaying in a breeze. "Your mother. I see the resemblance." A finger lovingly stroked her cheek. "You never knew her. I always regretted that."

She shuddered, the gesture leaving goosebumps on her skin. "I don't know what it is you speak of. But I know you're looking for a fight. So I'll give you one."

"Now, now. Violence is not necessary here." He circled her, occasionally poking at her sides, or tugging her hair, or taking note of her many scars. "She was very beautiful. And you are so..." He paused, a slight grimace taking over his features. "...Not."

Why was his voice so... wrong? Why did it send shivers down her spine?

"How strange, don't you think?" he mused, resting a hand on her head, ignoring the way she flinched under his touch. "Human blood taints everything it touches. So much war, so much hatred, so much death. Conflicts arise from the slightest wound of pride, divisions built over meager physical differences. It could have all been stopped, had your human weakness not gotten in the way."

"Weakness?" She gazed at her scars, traced the marks on her neck and shoulder. "Or strength?"

"Strength?" he cackled. "What strength do you have? Everyone you loved, and everyone who loved you, now exist only in your memory."

"Not everyone." Dante. Lady.

"Humanity is a weakness, my dear. All we wanted to do was save it." He stroked her neck with a brush of his hand, and she could just feel the wonder he had- the shared dream of a new heaven and a new earth, a gold-and-crystal kingdom and shining gates of pearl, all of His people equal in His eyes, filled with unabashed joy-

Nothing but joy, united under one shared mind. No memories, no talents, no blessedly unique moments shared between one another.

A white canvas. An empty note.

"You'd turn them into dolls," she realized with horror. "You'd take away everything from them. Everything that makes them who they are."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Delicately smoothing down her hair, he continued, "There would be no more pain. No more suffering. You and your friends," he eyed her scars, "would be free."

"Just not from you. And besides..." She gazed at her scars, thought of Lady's eyes, of Dante's sharp teeth. "Differences make us unique."

Gabriel released a heaving sigh. "And here I was hoping we could still... cooperate." He slid away from her, much to her relief. His hands were much too cold. "Your blood may be tainted, but it still holds power. Why use it to protect those who are only destined to die?"

"I don't know. Why did God make us so vulnerable?"

His eyes hardened. "Do not insult Father."

"He's dead," she retorted. "And the way I see it, He's always done better when He was silent."

"You insolent-" He stopped himself and sucked in a deep breath. "You're just like your mother."

Faith froze. "What?"

"Before she died, she said the exact same thing." Rage simmered within him, just barely held back by an almost impossible amount of patience. "What a pity that you will die just the same."

With a swipe of his hand, a paintbrush manifested in his grip, and he sent a flash of gold and hatred flying towards her.

On instinct, she summoned her violin and eased a soothing note through the air. When they clashed, it was like the world itself exploded. Bodies and chunks of marble flew everywhere.

The scar on Faith's heart ached. Before she could stop it, blood leaked out of her chest, coalescing into the all too familiar form of her father.

Gabriel sneered. "So. He's decided to make an appearance. Well then..." With a few strokes of his brush, a form of a woman began to emerge- with luscious hair that tumbled off her shoulders, piercing honey eyes, and beautiful wings that shimmered with a thousand colors.

She radiated power, much like Gabriel- no, they were practically equals. And even worse...

She seemed so... familiar. Had she seen this angel before?

Whoever she was, her father seemed to know her. They seemed to be watching each other, and they radiated so many emotions it nearly sent Faith reeling- betrayal, hope, longing, love?

"아빠?" she called out quietly. "괜찮아?"

Slowly, the ghost nodded. A violin took form in his hands, and he raised it to his chin.

"A touching family reunion?" Gabriel cackled. "I suppose it's a good thing you'll join them."

She huffed; the faces of her beloved friends floated just behind her eyelids. "Well, I suppose you'll have to kill me first." As she began to play, Bach's Parita No. 2 flowing through the air, she announced, "And if you want to kill me, pray that I don't Fade you first."

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: it's always the filler that's kinda boring, that's kinda the shitty part about writing stories and I'm not good at writing filler like this

But then again I'm not all that great at writing action either, especially the weird action that's gonna happen in the next chapter so

Whatever it's fine XD no one reads this anyway!

아빠? - dad? 괜찮아? - are you okay?

Edit: read chapter 17! :D

#devil may cry 3 #dmc dante #dmc lady #dmc oc #lost and found

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stevechoosesbucky · 5 years

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Joy doesn’t need to come in the form of happy endings, but disregarding completely our investment in these characters for years, ignoring their journeys and their personalities for cheap plot twists and shock value is a betrayal to us and to them. We’re not entertained anymore. It’s only pain and disappointment. So what’s the point?

I believe this is a phase that will be documented and studied in the future of entertainment business for being so out of touch with their contemporary audiences. We never needed more escapism than now, where the real world is falling apart. But instead they are giving us more heartbreak. I had enough.

It’s not only Bucky (a POW tortured and brainwashed to become an assassin, overcoming it all and coming at the other side still fighting for the greater good, willing to be put down so he wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore and even traumatized leaving his new peaceful country life to follow his best friend in battle again) and Jaime (who deserved a knight’s death after abandoning everything to keep his word in defending people against the army of the dead and after being shown in a constant path of growth and redemption).

It’s also Natasha, the only woman that was an original avenger and died because she didn’t have a heteronormative family and as so, is expandable. It’s Thor, a character suffering from deep guilt and ptsd having his pain reduced to comic relief. It’s Steve Rogers’ whole arc about found family and keeping moving on, destroyed to play house and master of puppets in his own created universe while the world burns and his friends face terrible loss. It’s Clint, becoming a mass murder of people of color (whose deaths he strangely felt he could stomach better than killing white criminals like pedophiles and neo nazis in the US) and getting away with no redemption arc. It’s Gamora, being replaced for a clone and having her boyfriend expend the next years trying to win her over again as if their are exchangeable. It’s Tony being the best dad he could be to Morgan, a present and lovingly one because he knows how a bad father can mess your life up and make you feel worthless but later encountering his own father in the past and magically saying to him how a good father he was???

It’s Tyrion who always went with his reason, his greatest asset. Jon who died once for what was right. Cersei who didn’t cry even when she was being spited on in her Shame walk. It’s Arya, who killed her enemy’s whole family and made pie with their body parts not being worried with what she had become. Arya, the one who doesn’t let anyone tell her what to do, who didn’t give up her calling even when her own family asked. It’s Sansa who was already resourceful and strong without the experience of being sexually abused. It’s Daenerys Targaryen who freed so many enslaved people and locked away her dragons for killing ONE innocent boy.

It’s all ruined because of the arrogance of white men writing fanfiction with an “official” stamp, at the command of big corporations who are completely out of touch with the fans of these properties that belong to us as much as they belong to them since they are not the original creators too.

But I’m glad that I’m not alone in this. It’s such a terrible feeling, investing so much time, emotions and faith in something and getting nothing in return, that only sharing the burden of this misery can relieve the pain. I know I can count on fandom and fanon, always, brilliant minds that truly love these characters and what they represent.

At least the fire is purifying in some way. It didn’t gave us closure but it burned everything down and with it my last shred of interest. I’m tired and I’m done.

#game of thrones #got #avengers: endgame #avengers endgame #anti endgame #anti got #got spoilers #avengers spoilers #endgame spoilers #negativity #I'm in rage and I'm hurt #long post for ts #stuff

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dreamscapesin1582 · 6 years

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Welcome Home

Akechi Mitsuhide x MC

requested by: @snow-and-saltea (why isn’t tumblr tagging you aaaAAaaAa)

tw: mention of attempted self-harm

I remained sitting down on the edge of the hallway, staring into nothing in particular as I kept my feet planted on the garden’s ground.

The blade in my hand glittered in the moonlight. Tempting. Calling to me.

Why did it have to be this way?

He is a rather peculiar one, my husband. Yet I chose to be with him for the rest of my life... although the fact that he felt the same may change.

Our first child was a girl. She was the love of my life. But as precious as she is to me, she could not be an heir to my husband’s clan. Mitsuhide wouldn’t let her even if she was willing to; the man fell in love with her the moment he carried her in his arms. Although I worry that his clan would eventually demand an heir.

And then it happened.

Mitsuhide was out on a mission that day. I went to pick up my daughter at temple school, but apparently she didn’t show up. It had me worried, twice as much when I heard that she was last seen entering the outskirts of Azuchi. Turns out she was taken by bandits who suffered enormously because of Mitsuhide, and wanted to get revenge for it.

I felt so much worry and panic that I was pretty sure my heart would stop. So many unpleasant thoughts came rushing to me like a storm. I couldn’t wait for my husband, I went to the place on my own. I wasn’t sane enough to care what happens to me, as long as my daughter was unharmed.

I was even fortunate we escaped that encounter alive, barely so. We just had to meet at a cliff. When I saw the uncouth men laying their hands on my sweet baby girl, I was furious and helpless at the same time. I couldn’t stay calm.

And when they tried to push her to the cliff… I lost it.

My feet took me to them and pulled her out of danger, in place of my own. It was too late and I lost my balance, falling down the cliff.

Thankfully, the other warlords caught wind of the situation and came to our rescue, and my daughter was unhurt. I, however, was in a miserable state. When I woke up, Mitsuhide was at my side. He possibly have heard what happened and uttered nothing but apologies and words of regret.

My heart ached for him instead.

When Ieyasu informed me that my legs may not work anymore due to the fall, I didn't know what to do. My sweet baby girl cried beside me, and I cooed to her that I was okay. I will be okay.

But many thoughts came to me.

How will I be a good wife to Mitsuhide then?

I don’t regret coming to my daughter’s aid. However, being a warlord’s wife was another thing. Mitsuhide has many things to worry about as a vassal to Nobunaga, and I didn’t want to be another burden he has to carry.

I tried to be positive. I tried to do everything to keep me going.

But at nights like this, I find myself unable to sleep, entertaining the thoughts as dark as the veil of night that shrouded the sky. You’ve became useless. You’ve grown weak. You’ve become nothing but a burden. And it went on and on and on…

Until it attacked viciously.

And the blade in my hand was now pointed directly at my thighs. Those useless things. The dead weight. The ones that ruined everything for me—

“Knives are sharp, my dear. I’d be careful with it if I were you.”

A familiar pair of strong arms wrapped around me from behind. The blade trembled as warmth enveloped my hand that held it. Mitsuhide did quick work to take it away from me but gently so, as his touch always was when it came to me.

“Mitsuhide...” I couldn't look at him. I felt too ashamed and guilty. “I didn't know you were coming home tonight.”

“Hmm... And I still don't get that ‘welcome home’ kiss?”

A forced, breathless laugh escaped me. “You must be tired. You should rest.”

I kept my eyes staring at my feet as I spoke softly, like I didn't want to wake anyone deep into slumber. I knew what it felt like when he has his eyes on me even if I don’t look at him—he always found it amusing whenever I stare right back at him—but it hurts me to evade it out of guilt.

Although he didn’t show any sign of letting me go anytime soon. His cheek rested on my shoulder blade as his steady breathing tickled my neck. His silence after all that was like smoke that made my eyes glisten with unshed tears. I wanted him to go away, but it felt difficult since I was at his mercy after all.

“A-Aren’t you uncomfortable in that position?”

“Well, you do not seem to plan on giving me that kiss so I’m trying to compensate for it.” He buried his face on my shoulder as his hands caressed my trembling hands. “I missed you, after all.”

He’s playing that game, huh.

I know him well enough to know that he’s deliberately doing this to make me open up to him myself. It was a bit cruel at first, sure, but I supposed it was because he didn’t want to force anything on me. And he never forced me on anything; he did boast that he was a very patient man.

But I didn’t have it in me to say anything.

“Mitsuhide, it’s already late.” I slowly caught his hand and tried to pry it away from me. “We should go to sleep.”

“…Is that what you really want?”

I pressed my lips together. I was robbed out of words. I hear Mitsuhide’s soft sigh just shy away from my ear as he slowly moved away from me only to go in front of me and crouch to meet me at eye level. It was another stab to the heart to force myself to close my eyes before him.

“Why aren’t you looking at me, love?”

‘Love’. I never imagined the day where hearing his endearments would hurt so much. I tried so hard to control myself but the tears threatened to spill.

“…I can’t.”

“And why is that?”

Why. Why. Why does this have to happen?

“You tell me why!” I didn’t want to yell, but my chest swelled with hot emotions and I wasn’t strong enough to rein it down. “Why? Why me, Mitsuhide?”

I bit my lip. ‘No, stop.’ ‘This isn’t you.’ But I couldn’t hear anything. My whole body was shaking and my heart was thumping like war drums and I just wanted to let. it. all. out.

“I’ve become worthless,” Those words escaped me before I could even comprehend what I was saying, “I don’t think I can take this anymore… I’ve been nothing but a burden ever since these damn legs won’t work!”

I slammed my fists on my thighs and I didn’t feel a single thing. It only felt horrible. I couldn’t do anything but clench my fists on my lap.

The dam was destroyed. The waterworks slowly trickled down my cheeks.

I almost found it heartbreaking to find Mitsuhide in his silence.

“…Just leave me.” A wry smile touched my lips. I steeled myself with my next words. “I won’t be mad if you found yourself someone else. I’ll be okay.”

“…Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

My heart was forming ice and yet the smile remained on my lips. Probably frozen.

“In time.” I said. “But you deserve someone who can take care of you and support you… who can build a family with you.”

“…I see.”

Once again, I felt warmth on my cold, trembling hands. His large ones placed itself on top of mine and the tenderness of his touch felt so good that I felt undeserving of it.

“Do forgive me. I cannot find it in myself to think of someone who suits that criteria of yours other than you.” He whispered as one of his hands moved to cup my cheek, the pad of his thumb wiping the teardrops that kept falling down. “Please stop crying. I hate to see your tears.”

“I’m sorry, Mitsuhide, I’m so sorry—”

He leaned forward to rest his forehead on mine, his free hand moving to the nape of my neck. “Look at me. Please.”

It felt so difficult to refuse him so hesitantly I met his gaze, and within those golden eyes were agony and endless love for me.

“You are my wife. My only wife.” He said with so much sincerity that it almost tore my heart in two. “You already gave me the world—our daughter. You gave me a home to return to. I would not dare wish for more, dearest heart.”

“But—”

The remaining words went unsaid as he sealed my quivering lips with his, but it was brief. I wondered if I really hated how he knew how to silence me and how I liked what feeling it gave me.

“…I realize you are worried about that issue with regards to inheritance. But I must remind you, have you known me to care about those things?”

Nodding my head would be a lie, so I didn’t.

“You need not to worry about anything else. I suppose I do attempt to be competent enough to care for you, but that is on me. You have never been a burden to me. In fact, it is I who should ask for your forgiveness. I never intended to make you feel that way.” A wry chuckle escaped his lips as he stroked my hair gently. “You are more than enough for me. I don’t need you for your duties nor your ability to give me children. The only thing I ask of you is that you stay with me. That is all, nothing more.”

And thus, the ice in my heart melted just as soon as it formed. I was washed with relief as I finally had the courage to return his embrace.

And I felt so much warmth and so, so much love and joy.

“Thank you…”

“Anything for you.”

After which, Mitsuhide broke away slightly and looked at me with the familiar mischief in his eyes.

“So, can I finally have that ‘welcome home kiss’?”

It took me a while to process his request. A smile broke away from me.

“…Silly.”

He smiled in return as he leaned forward.

And I finally welcomed him home.

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #Ikemen Sengoku: Romances Across Time #cybird #ikemen series #ikesen mitsuhide #Akechi Mitsuhide #ikemen sengoku fanfic #xmas writing spree 2018 #ikesen oneshot #ikemen sengoku oneshot #oneshot

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years

Text

End Game (Bucky Barnes x You)

Characters: Bucky Barnes x You

Summary: Bucky saw everyone turning into dust and immediately went straight to you.

Warnings: HAPPINESS. SMILES. LAUGHTERS. RAINBOWS. :) LOL.

Words: 1,963

A/N: This made my heart hurt. I’ve written this back before End Game happened and posted this first in my Wattpad account. If ya’ read this on Wattpad then hello! I am Tatatthepotato! Heehee!

• • •

"Is the war over, Buck?" Y/N ran and ran till where Bucky was standing in the middle of a field. He dropped his gun with a thud, tightly engulfing her in a hug once she jumped to hug his neck.

Bucky's heartbeat quickened its pace. His emotions were all around, he was exhausted, bemused, and totally had no idea what was happening when one by one their team members were turning to dust. They were suddenly gone in just one snap of Thanos's fingers. What was happening?

When he saw each and every loved ones of every Avenger were turning to ashes, he quickly ran back to his hut, even if it was on the other side of Wakanda, he ran as fast as he could. Even had to see the reality how the kids who kept playing and helping him when he was brought in Wakanda was turned into dust. Their last words was his name before all of them slowly came with the wind..except from one kid.

Ikemba.

Bucky was puzzled, Ikemba, the kid who had a special place inside his heart. Ikemba was scared when he saw his friends swaying away with the wind, leaving him all alone as each Wakandan people were flying with the wind. Bucky could only hug the boy and reassure him that everything's going to be all right, even without his mother by his side because she was turned into dust with the others too.

It was extremely mind wrecking.

He gave a melancholic smile, and Y/N sensed there was something wrong. She tried to smile but it seemed forced, and even the next word that came out of Bucky's mouth was also forced indeed.

"Yes,"

It had definitely been the end game for them.

"Y/N?" Bucky spoke sweetly, caressing your arm as he laid beside you with Ikemba sleeping on the other side of the bed. You were both sandwiching him on his kinda tiny bed but he didn't gave a care about it. It was already night time in Wakanda, the other team who was left alive were in their own humble abode, after an excruciating and heartbreaking day. They still needed to rest, that is..if they could still sleep after the horrible reality that has happened.

Bucky's heart was still knocking against his chest with nervousness. Steve was alive, he was alive but Sam was taken. He hoped nobody will soon be taken away anymore, Bucky hoped that scary phase was done.

You turned over, furrowing your brows and blinking till you could clearly see your sweet Avenger. "Hmm?"

Bucky took his time to process you in, memorizing every inch of your perfections in his eyes even though he had already memorized it. You felt the pad of his metal finger, trailing down your glabella, and towards the tip of your nose. He sadly smiled to himself, and he was sure something was wrong. Something isn't right. "I love you, I know this is the first time I said this, Doll." Bucky paused, breathing out the breath he had been holding in for long than he could notice.

Love. He loves you. Bucky finally said the words.

He looked deep within your eyes, finding anything but adoration and love. Bucky's heart pounded so fast against his chest, it was a long time since he felt that way. How it felt to be loved back. "I love you too, Buck. You know I already said that I'm in love with you and--" You suddenly pause, feeling your heart pump one beat, a burning sensation spreading inside that made you grasp your chest.

Bucky was quick to see what was happening with you. He knew you were in pain, but why? "Y/N?" He sat up in the same time, grabbing either side of your arms as he gently shook your body to get your attention. No. The tiny voice uttered loud in the back of his head. It wasn't happening. Not her. Please, no more.

The burning sensation stopped in one beat, although it was ceased, your feet began to turn cold. A wash of coldness began to start from your toes, you felt it. You felt everything, even Bucky's warm lips that frantically kissed your forehead to prove himself that you were still there with him. "B-Buck? I-I don't feel so good, it's too cold here," You breathed deeply, your chest beginning to tighten.

"A-Am I having a heart attack? I don't w-want to go yet," A nervous laugh came out of you, the cold force already on your stomach, it was like pulling your soul out of your body. You were on the verge of crying, you could feel the hot tears brimming your eyes, the pain inside your heart beginning to go back. "I don't wanna die, Bucky. N-Not yet, we're still going to make a family, right? With Ikemba? here in Wakanda?"

He heard your voice crack, and his heart began to race. Bucky began to panic as he stood and jumped out of the bed. Hastily pushing a button to dial for help, and with one push of a button on the middle of the table, a white blurry hologram came out in front of him. If it were a normal day, Bucky would be surprised. However, Bucky's currently in distress and he was close to having a mental break down. "T'Challa?! T'Challa!"

He screamed at the hologram glitching, yet only a woman's robotic response was given as an answer. "Sorry, King T'challa is at rest. You may leave a message--"

"Steve! Please call Steve Rogers right now! Quickly!"

"Dialing Steve Rogers,"

Bucky's breath was labored, eyes completely wide while he grabbed at his long locks, tightly tugging at his roots. "No, no, not Y/N!" He took a glimpse at you, and you were already sitting on the bed, just staring at him with a sad smile. Your warm tears falling like fountain on either side of your eye, slowly dropping down your face.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You know it was inevitable," Your fingers trembled while you reached out to grab Bucky's flesh hand that was clammy and cold. You faked a smile, you weren't ready. Your heart wasn't ready to go. "W-Who am I to be an exception? Your other superhero friends were taken, even the people of Wakanda happen to be taken too, Buck. It's impossible for me not to,"

"You're the love of my life! He can't take you away from me, Doll! Not you!" He begged on his knees, his tears starting to fall from his gorgeous, Steele blue eyes. His soul was breaking inside once again, grabbing both of your hands tightly, he begged for more and seeing him crying, desperately begging for you not to go was making your heart break into tiny little painful pieces. "Please, not you too! Please, Doll. Please!"

"Buck?" Steve's holographic face suddenly popped up on the bed side table, he seemed to be awake because his eyes were all tired, dark circles hiding beneath them. "What's happening?"

You grabbed Bucky's face with both of your hands, he was crying. Your Bucky was crying too much, his tears never threatening to stop. If you were going to die today, then you wanted nothing more than to remember his beautiful face that has been filled with joy rather than sorrow and agony. "Bucky, I love you very much, remember that."

Your feet were slowly beginning to drift away, your ashes swaying with the winds. "No, no!" He yelled when he saw the traumatic dust slowly starting to swallow you in. Bucky grabbed your damp cheeks, both of your faces were full of hopelessness, pain and tears. Nobody was ready, nobody knew what was happening. Not even him. "I love you, Y/N! I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," He repeated in distress, over and over again..

Bucky immediately leaned in, colliding his lips with yours. Both of your tears mixing with what you've shared with him. It was salty, bittersweet even. He felt your lips turning colder and colder until he could finally feel none but air.

"I'll forever love you, Bucky."

He opened his bloodshot eyes, and saw only Ikemba and himself. Your ashes flying away and he tried to catch it in despair. "No, nooooo! Noooo! Y/N, nooooo! Doll, nooo," His raspy voice cracked and weakly whimpered as he fell on the floor with a loud thud. Bucky's tears continued to fall, he couldn't think of anything now besides the image of you in pain and slowly vanishing into thin air.

Ikemba shifted and turned all over the soft mattress of Bucky's bed. The child blinked a couple of times, regaining his vision before seeing him blankly looking at the floor.

Bucky was broken. Again.

Just as the people knew he was slowly going stable and fixed, he went back to being broken because Y/N was gone.

You're gone.

Bucky couldn't accept the fact that you were gone, no matter how many times he thinks about it, he won't accept the painful reality that you were gone.

"Brother?" Ikemba was confused, the poor child didn't know what was happening, he was worried why his brother Bucky was crying on the floor, looking lost and broken. "Where's Y/N, brother?"

Y/N. The voices inside his head whispered, and something much heavier clutched his heart.

"Buck? I-Is everything alright?" Steve huffed to himself as he barged into Bucky's hut, looking around for any signs of intruders but saw none. He sighed a breath of relief, his protruding chest moving up and down as he tried catching his breath from running too fast. The Captain was dressed in a plain black shirt and sweatpants, appearing to hop in bed for some sleep before Bucky called.

"Buck, where's Y/N?"

Y/N. His Y/N. His doll.

Bucky tightened his fists together as he sat on the floor like the world came crushing down on him. The most important person that could keep him in check besides Steve was now gone. "He took her too," His eyebrows furrowed in grief and anger. "He took her," Bucky's low voice cracked in the end as it turned weaker, smaller and Steve knew his best pal was in an excruciating pain because Y/N was the only person who could make him feel like the jolly person he was back in the 1950's.

Y/N was the only person he loved the most that made him cry his heart out, screaming his anger and curling in a ball on the corner of his bed.

"She's gone, Steve. She's gone,"

So was his heart.

• • •

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#bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fandom #mcu #marvel #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan x you #james barnes

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skamamoroma · 6 years

Text

Vediamo/We’ll See - Thoughts (or, as I like to call it, Megan rambles about giraffes for far too long)

As requested (by you lovely lot), my rambles on this clip. And what a clip it is!

This one made me sob. Full on tears down my face, need a tissue sob. It was equal parts heartbreaking and soothing which is Skam allover isn’t it?!

I think this one is one of my absolute favourites so far. I’ve been dying to see more of Mamma Rametta (when will we learn her name?!) and I have a feeling we’ll see more but this was some of what we needed after the other evening.

Her’s a long winded way of saying that everything about this clip was ever so special, the acting was stunning, the symoblism was completely perfect and in equal parts, brutal but beautiful.

So, first off, Ludo and the god damn synthy atmospheric music that has plagued me for weeks. I LOVE this kind of music and god has he used it to his advantage so much. This one is so sad but kind of helps us feel how Marti’s head is spinning. He’s a couple of days post Milan but his mind is still confused and full of hurt and sadness. He has internalised Maddalena’s words and yet is still researching. But as we all know, the internet is not always the best place to be when you’re researching a complex illness or medical issue. We can see him looking at elements of ‘suicide’ and this is a boy who we know has had a lot of exposure to mental illness but doesn’t have a lot of understanding so, to him, this must be very difficult to comprehend and so he will take things at face value.

I love seeing Marti in his room. It’s SO BLUE but so cosy still. I also love seeing him in his sweatshirt bottoms because he always looks like the cuddliest bean. Bless him.

We know he hasn’t heard from Nico but when we see that text it’s the first interaction they’d had post-Milan and poor Marti is still so confused and hurt and in the belief that he’s just another ‘someone’ to Nico, just a temporary thing. It KILLS me because we know, even when Nico was at his worst, it was still ALL about Marti. It’s where his heart is.

AND THEN THE TEXT MESSAGE. Oh god. I am so VERY pleased that I was actually having a nap when this came out because I watched the translated version and not the website version first and when I read the translation of that text it made me cry instantly.

We’ve seen/heard of giraffes 4 times so far: - The drawing on Nico’s wall - The beer glasses at the Halloween party that Nico loved - Nico’s discussion as to what he’d do as the Last Man - The flip book/horse riding lessons

There had to be a reason why Nico had this love of this animal and brought it up so many times. There had to be something about the giraffe that he loved and finding out what it is absolutely broke me because its SO BEAUTIFUL and SO perfect for his character I am still a little speechless as to how they did this. I didn’t for one moment think that any remake (and I was never down with remakes of the original in the first place until I realised there’d be an Italian one and saw the stunning trailer) would ever be able to match OR supercede the original in terms of layers of metaphor and nuanced symbolism but then THIS SEASON.... good lord.

First of all, Nico had to make that giraffe. ON AN OLD MOBILE PHONE. To me, that’s almost impossible. Nico, the sweetheart, went to the effort of making that adorable kind of sad looking punctuation giraffe just to send to Marti.

Then the words - “The giraffe’s heart is far from its thoughts. She fell in love yesterday and she doesn’t know yet”.

I swear, I didn’t think they’d do this. I didn’t think they’d make it THIS meaningful. Nico’s love for giraffes suddenly makes a ridiculous amount of sense. He actually IDENTIFIES with them to explain himself in terms of his illness. What a heartrendingly beautiful and gut wrenching sentiment. AH. I’m so in love with it.

The idea that head and heart are distanced and that love can exist in the heart that the brain may not realise yet just honestly makes me want to cry.

I’m a sucker for this stuff. I am legitimately ALL ABOUT this kind of thing, the metaphorical and symbolic nature of things that people cling to or use to help them through life and Nico broke me with this. We understand him so much more. I wish Marti would have perhaps spent more time READING that to understand it because Nico is effectively telling him he loves him, that his heart is separate to his brain, that he can feel things but sometimes his brain isn’t on the same page and that his love for Marti is what is real.

He kissed Marti’s heart. He drew a coffee heart. He puts so much stock in the HEART because he’s literally saying that his brain betrays him and doesn’t necessarily reflect what’s in his heart. But we STILL saw him in his episode and Marti was everything to him. He’s so full of love and it’s terribly sad that he has such a tough time because of his illness.

I don’t blame Marti for blocking his number. It’s really sad that he did but Marti doesn’t understand anything, he thinks he’s being played or used and that his time with Nico is meaningless. Looking at their history and the whole situation where Nico ‘went back’ to Maddalena, his doubts almost have foundation in reality and then Maddalena just confirmed them. I don’t know what will happen with Friday’s clip and the phone but we shall have to wait and see with that.

And then the focus is all on Marti and his mamma. Oh my. This scene. This beautiful beautiful scene. First off, Mamma Rametta has the most insanely gorgeous hair. It’s just CUTE that we know where Marti gets his hint of red from in his curls. It’s that instant familiarity and closeness you feel when you see them both. ALSO SHE ALWAYS WEARS BLUE. Like mother, like son <3

The way he shouted is something I think many people can understand. He’s not able to share. He doesn’t feel able to be open with her for many reasons but the main two, I think, are that he doesn’t want her to be burdened with this stuff as he doesn’t think she can cope with it and also because he can’t be truthful without explaining his sexuality.

The way Fede plays this though is so pitch perfect. He’s stressed, tearful, frustrated and heartbroken. It’s a heady mix and I adore Fede’s performance. He’s wonderful.

But I ALSO adore Mamma Rametta’s persistence. She won’t leave. I got a true sense of her as a mother here and a little of Martino’s fierceness. She was not going to let her son make her leave because she KNOWS he isn’t ok.

That door slam, the door handle hitting the floor and Marti pressing his head to the other side of the door hurt like hell but it was so well done.

AGAIN WITH THE SYMBOLISM LUDO. Just as Nico stood on the other side of bars, Marti is on the other side of a door to his Mama and she CAN’T GET TO HIM. She can’t open the door herself. Marti has to open the door for them. He has to take the first step to find their connection again and I loved how that was all shown in the way the clip was shot. YET AGAIN, this show stuns me with the way it uses cinematography to convey a message. UGH, so great.

I felt Fede’s acting in this moment. I’ve been in this moment. I’ve felt as he felt and he. was. wonderful. You could feel his frustration and sadness and instant regret and his little voice “are you sitting there”?

But then you see Mamma Rametta and she’s sitting alongside a quote written on Marti’s wall: :Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself”

Oh Marti. I don’t know when he wrote that but the fact he did tells me he’ll be ok. To have his Mamma sitting next to THOSE WORDS is so meaningful and is a summary of this entire season. God, has Marti suffered and fought and been brave... It’s a summary of his bravery. He’ll TRY. SO GOD DAMN BEAUTIFUL. I keep using that word. Damnit. Haha. It’s so true though.

“We’re so happy in this house, huh?” - and isn’t that just the thing you say to a loved one or someone close? That self aware, self deprecating thing you can say even in difficult moments? He recognizes for them both that they’re both sad and it’s a little moment of connection even if they can bond over the sadness, at least they can bond.

The tears. I was a little emotional by this point what with the GIRAFFE of it all but those tears. Marti looks so exhausted and forlorn and just worn down. I miss his smile every single time it goes away.

His almost bitter laugh and eye roll at the knowledge that his father has betrayed his trust was perfectly played by Fede because COME ON. His dad did that? That’s not ok. He asked him not to, specifically. There was nothing there in his chat with his dad to suggest that Marti was in trouble or upset that may have prompted his father to tell his mother so it seems pretty awful to me that his father did this and still hasn’t contacted Marti about it, hasn’t responded with any words of comfort or love. I don’t know where that’s going but it’s really sad for Marti.

And then the bit that breaks me ever single time. God there are tears as I’m writing this. When Marti says he doesn’t know if his sexuality matters to his Mamma... MY GOD, the way she says his name. Her broken voice through tears is just gut wrenching.

“You’re the most important thing in my life”. The words Marti needs to hear and, by the sound of it, the words his mamma needed to say. She can hardly get them out. Marti’s reaction kills me because it’s full of relief. He SMILES. Her words get through to him and the way, from this point onwards, he SMILES is like a plaster to the heart, it’s so soothing and comforting to see that kind of relief. It’s so comforting to also see a mother who is struggling but trying HARD (like the quote says) and who still is taking the opportunity to tell her son that no matter what, he is what’s important to her. For any person who struggles with their sexuality or who has to perhaps face a moment of honesty with a loved one like this..... well, for me, it’s really damn emotional and full of hope.

Mamma Rametta needs all of the cuddles and love. I’ve adored her since we first saw her but GOD, look at her trying so hard. I love that her first idea is to spend time with her son, to talk. She’s offering him that and effectively telling him that she’s there for him and that she WANTS them to reconnect. He looks grateful.

And that’s when you truly believe they’re family and see their mother/son bond because there’s this banter between them even in the midst of all of this sadness and heartbreak and confusion....

Vediamo.

Ah god, it’s simply so cute. She knows her son. Her little joke makes him smile and even laugh because he knows it’s true... and just like that’s there’s so much WARMTH. They’ve made a connection and I love that Marti looks up at the handle because of course he’s going to let her out of the room and HE is going to be the one to remove that barrier between them.

It’s the first step to repairing their relationship and it’s simple but such a truly meaningful moment and absolutely one of my favourites of the entire season. I KNOW we will get to see more of Marti and his Mamma and I can’t wait.

Now, I need a tissue <3

#skam italia #thank you for your lovely messages and for those asking for this #here you go #thoughts etc #ep9 #marti and his mamma #mamma rametta

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