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faroutharry · 3 years

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If I Could Fly

Hello all!! Thank you for taking the time to read my second ever piece of writing! I’m still new to this so any reblogs or feedback would be greatly appreciated!!!

I sort of switch between Harry and the readers pov so sorry if it is confusing! Harrys parts are in Italics and the reader is the rest.

summary: Harry and his love get into a fight right before she’s suppose to fly out to NYC for hslot, heavily inspired by ‘if i could fly’ by one direction

word count: 4.6k

warnings: angst, fluff, maybe swearing? i think thats it

I have no idea how it started, but I remember how it ended…

“Well if you feel that way then maybe you shouldn’t even come out here at all”

The words were still ringing in my ears; I tried to convince myself that he didn’t mean it, that he was just frustrated and homesick, but he sounded so sure of himself that I had no other choice but to admit that he meant it.

We never really fight much, Harry and I had been together for as long as I can remember, I was there for everything, even X factor. It was easier back then, when we were younger, being able to just finish school and then essentially travel the world with my then boyfriend (future husband) for free, I say free but I always tried to help out, even helping out the photographers.

Then when the hiatus started, and Harry started writing his solo album, he encouraged me to pursue my interests. So I started applying to jobs in photography and magazines where I could help develop my skills and name more. After helping Harry film in Jamaica I got a few calls from small magazines asking for me to come help at some photo-shoots.

It was perfect for the most part, Harry travelled a bit more to write his first album but he was never gone long and he always came back to me. Even when he toured his solo album, Harry invited me along to be the tour photographer, it took a lot of convincing on his part, but I could never say no to him.

It was all starting to fall apart now…

Harry has just started Love on Tour, and even though I could have chosen to go and be tour photographer again, I opted out to take a big opportunity with Vogue magazine. Harry encouraged me to take it even though it meant I wouldn’t be able to come join him on tour for about 3 months. We both agreed to make time for the other and to fly out to see each other so we would last the 3 months.

Harry is a very spontaneous, go with the flow type person, and it’s honestly one of the things I love most about him, but sometimes another side of Harry comes out. We jokingly call it his ‘Diva’, it happens most when he is stressed out about a show or has had a bad sound check or he is feeling homesick or tired.

I couldn’t tell you the reason for his most resent outburst, but I can tell you one thing, I was on the receiving end of it.

Earlier…

Harry had asked me to call him as soon as I woke up, in regards to my flight to come watch him perform some of his shows, starting in NYC. I was already dreading having to tell him that I probably wouldn’t be able to make it after there was in issue with one of the photo shoots and I was required to re shoot a whole day of photos.

So I was already on edge when the phone started ringing.

“Morning lovie” Harry’s angelic voice sounded through my phones speaker.

“Hi H, how was sound check today?” I tried to prolong the likely uncomfortable conversation bound to happen.

“Yeah it was alright, Couldn’t quite get my notes right in She, but I’m not too worried for tonight, you packed your bag yet? Only 2 more days!!!”

Damn.

“Um H, I actually need to talk to you about that…” I quietly answered his question, waiting for him to be upset. “Lovie don’t even joke- he breathily chuckled –I can’t even handle you joking about that, I really need to see you”

“Harry, I’m serious I can’t even explain how sorry I am, I need you too but...” He cuts in, words slicing me in half “What you talking about? You’re getting on that plane in 2 days honey! I don’t need to hear anything else!” He sounded so furious yet somehow so calm, it honestly scared me a little bit. “There was some issues with one of the shoots and I need to re shoot and I’m sorry H but I’m probably not gonna be able to make the flight…”

I was shocked. I couldn’t stand the silence but I didn’t dare speak, it was like he was waiting for me to say I’m joking, but I never did.

I don’t remember much after that, thankfully, but I’m fairly certain it wouldn’t make me feel any better if I did. All I remember is the tears streaming down my face and the words leaving my husbands mouth...

“Well if that’s the way you feel then maybe you shouldn’t even come out here at all”.

I hung up after that; I couldn’t take the shouting and the foul language coming from the man I felt was my soul mate.

I was honestly shattered, I knew he was going to be sad and maybe a bit angry, but nothing could have prepared me for the degrading words that came out of his mouth. He immediately tried to call me back after I’d hung up, but I turned my personal phone off and started getting ready for work, hopefully if I worked hard and fast enough I could convince my boss to let me leave for New York on time.

After I heard the line go dead, I took a second to breathe before I realised what I had done. I had just screamed at my lovie. My soul mate. My wife. How could I do that?

I knew I was having a bad day the second I slept in and missed an important call, Jeff had already yelled at me for that and from there the day had just gotten worse.

I almost always have a smoothie before warm ups and I decided to try a new flavour and it sucked.

I got my favourite vintage Fleetwood Mac tee caught on a door handle and it ripped a hole in the delicate fabric.

I couldn’t hit any of my high notes in She and to be honest I was close to tears when I heard my wife’s personalised ringtone.

I was trying to hold it all in, knowing I would be with my angel soon enough, knowing she would be able to make everything seem better.

After hearing that she couldn’t make it, it felt like the world was against me, I couldn’t control myself, in my head all I can hear are the horrifying words I had just shouted at my wife. The replay of the fight in my head making me even angrier with myself, I threw my phone onto the bed after my 5 calls had gone straight to voicemail, knowing she had turned her phone off meant that she was truly mad, she didn’t want to talk to me at all.

A text would have to suffice until she decided to talk to me again.

H: I know I messed up. I know saying I’m in a bad mood isn’t an excuse.

H: just please call me when you can

H: I love you x

I tried to put our fight in the back of my mind as I went to find Mitch or anyone to distract me until my lovie replied. Nothing much worked unfortunately. I checked my phone every 2 minutes and after 4 hours of checking, I noticed something that made me feel even guiltier than before…

Read 5:47pm

I didn’t check my phone till my lunch break, a few hours after our phone call, I read his texts and I honestly didn’t know what to respond, I was still furious at him for blowing up at me like that and worse it was about something that I had no control over. Of course I missed him and wanted to see him so bad, if not more than he did.

I decided I’d respond after work when I had calmed down a bit and when I knew what to say.

The day had gone by fast, unfortunately for me I wouldn’t be going home at 5 like almost everyone else. Luckily, I had all the failed photos re done that day and was hoping to get all the editing finished tonight and then they would be ready to be finalised and emailed off tomorrow.

It was around 7:30pm when I finally walked into our London home, the house seemed cold and gloomy when Harry was away touring, but if all went well I wouldn’t need to be here much longer. After all my hard work today my day seemed to be looking up, it looked like I would be able to finalise my photos tomorrow morning and email them off by lunch time.

This meant that I would be able to make the flight Harry had booked for me months ago. The only debate I was having was whether or not I should actually get on the flight, Harry had made it clear that he didn’t think I should come, but I know my husband and I know he was just mad at the time of his comment, but I was hurting too.

After a long internal debate with myself I decided to just send a simple reply to Harrys text, still undecided if I would make it to NYC.

I was lying awake in my tour bus, on the way to New York, unable to fall asleep. Usually my angel would call me when she gets home after she finishes work. I waited and waited, praying she would just call and say anything, even if she shouted and swore at me, I just wanted to hear her voice.

No call.

As I was finally starting to drift off, I got a notification from my phone that didn’t fill me with the confidence that she was coming...

Lovie: Good luck for NYC x

After a lot of deliberation, I was waiting in the customs line at the airport. I had finished my work faster than I had anticipated and really I had nothing else to do for 2 weeks, I already had my time off approved and what else was I going to do, sit around our lonely, cold house and mope for 2 weeks…

After my text to Harry he hadn’t tried to call me, I figured he was still slightly mad I wasn’t coming, despite his texts from the day before, maybe he was mad that I hadn’t apologised or maybe he was mad that I hadn’t called when he asked me to.

I knew going to New York was a bit of a risk, I had no idea how he was going to react and it could end up with me getting right back on a plane to London anyway. I figured I may as well try and patch things up with Harry, otherwise it would be a lonely 2 weeks for me.

I debated whether or not to call or text and tell him that I was coming, but I figured I’d show up, call Jeff and just watch the show from the crowd. I’d talk to him after; maybe the concert would let him get some of his aggression out, if he still had any.

I stared at my phone for a while after receiving her text last night, ultimately I decided not to reply right away, I would reply in the morning with fresh eyes and hopefully a happier wife.

When I woke up the next morning in NYC, I’m not going to lie, I kind of expected another text from my love, anything would have been appreciated. But no, just the same 4 words stared back at me when I checked my phone; I decided to try calling her 1 more time. The phone when straight to voicemail again, the flash backs of our fight were circling in my head as I tried to called again. I should have expected this, I know talking to her like that was wrong, hell it wasn’t even talking, I was shouting at her and she didn’t even say anything she just listened to me go on and on and then ultimately hung up.

Fuck. I had to make this up to her, and the only idea I could think of was kind of out there, but if I know my wife, and I do, It should at least get her to call me.

H: I know I don’t deserve anything from you right now, not after the way I spoke to you, but could you please just watch a live stream tonight.

H: I love you endlessly, just say the word. X

When I got off the plane I only had around an hour before the show started, I was going to be cutting it pretty close for the start of the show but at least I made it. After waiting for my phone to turn back on after the flight, I saw 2 texts from my Harry and honestly it made me feel so glad that I got on that flight. I had an inkling that Harry was about to do something big and risky at his show, I just hoped I didn’t miss it. I needed to call Jeff immediately.

“Wasn’t expecting to hear from you today?” Jeff curiously teased as he answered the phone. “Yeah well neither did I! Listen I need a favour…”

I was nervous, my missus hadn’t replied to my texts and I was freaking out a little. I have never changed the set list this close to the start of a show. All my hope was riding on the chance that even though she was mad at me, she’d still watch my show live streamed like she usually did whenever she couldn’t make it. The show was just about to start and I had just finished finalising all my changes for my surprise that would hopefully make my lovie forgive me.

We’ve obviously had many up and downs being together for as long as we have and along the way she has inspired me to write my best and most favourite songs.

One of those came to be written back in the days of One Direction, my love had just decided to go back to her parent’s house as she had missed them quite a bit and hadn’t seen them in almost a year. We had a little bit of a spat when she told me about her plans, I had offered to fly them out to meet us and she had declined and I had gotten a bit defensive. We resolved it after a few bad days and I was fine with it all, but when she was packing her stuff to leave I got sad and I was a distant the whole day before she left.

We had our bitter sweet goodbye in the hotel room we were sharing and she had quietly said “I’m always a phone call away H” and as tears streamed down both our faces she finished with “I’ll be missing half of me while we’re apart and if you need me just say the word and I’ll be there.” And with that she kissed my cheek and walked out.

After that day I wrote her a song and we both got into the habit of saying ‘just say the word’, a subtle phrase meaning more to each of us than the other even knew.

“HARRY 2 MINUTES TO STAGE”, well here goes nothing.

When I arrived at Madison Square Garden it was packed, my driver couldn’t quite get close enough to the stage doors, so I called Jeff to send some security guards to help me not get trampled. I quickly ran into the backstage doors, looking frantically for Jeff, he stood a good 100 meters ahead in the hall way, holding up a blank sign and waving a large black sharpie. As I thanked Jeff, he was watching over my shoulder as I hurried to scribble words down on the sign. He chuckled when I finished and showed me to the back way into the crowd, I struggled to keep up with him, wondering why he was practically sprinting through the corridors. Harry wasn’t even singing right now so I wasn’t even missing the real show.

When we finally made it to the doors that separated us from the mosh pit, Jeff gave me a thumbs up and gestured to the guard by the door to usher me to the front of the friends and family section at the end of the catwalk. I thank Jeff as I quickly followed after the guard, silently waving to the fans that recognised me and motioned to keep it a secret.

When I got to my spot I was just in time to see Harry start his walk down towards me. He didn’t usually talk during this part of the show but I was too excited to see him to care, I had my sign ready to flash at him when he finally looked my way.

I’m sweating profusely and I think my hands are shaking as I walk down the cat walk to where my wife usually stands when she’s in the crowd, I couldn’t bare to look at the empty space as I got there, so instead I just stared out into the crowd as I started my speech..

“Now I have something a little different tonight” The crowd seemed excited about it, probably hoping I was going to sing ‘To Be So Lonely’ again, as the crowd got quieter, I continued.

“As you all know, my beautiful wife is usually touring alongside me because – a small chuckle sounded through the mic as I finished – well because I can’t stand to be apart from her for that long”. The fans awed and clapped upon hearing this.

“However she was suppose to be joining me a bit later in the tour because she’s so good at her job that they needed her to stay in London to finish her HUGE, new project that she working on, and she was suppose to be here tonight as well for a well deserved break, but well to be honest, I kind of messed up and the details are not needed but I just wanted to dedicate this song to my love, just say the word”.

As the fans screamed in anticipation, the beginning chords of “If I Could Fly” start to play around the arena.

I couldn’t stop the tears escaping my eyes after his speech; he still didn’t know I was standing in my favourite spot, right next to him, waiting for him to notice me. I chuckled under my breath looking at my sign and at our ability to read each other’s minds.

As he started to sing our song, I noticed how sad and shaky he seemed, I couldn’t take it any longer, I needed him to see me and I needed him to know that I forgave him and that I was always going to be here.

I held my sign up high in the air, shaking it around to try and catch his attention. He wasn’t looking at this side of the arena at all, just staring straight ahead to the fans in front of him.

It looked like he was so focused on not crying that he was barely registering all the things around him. I looked around at the fans behind me and walked to the barrier separating me from the regular mosh pit, I see 2 girls dressed in bright flares and Harry’s merch immediately recognise me and I go up to them to ask politely for there help.

I was about half way through my dedication when I noticed I was holding back tears, the rest of the arena coming back into view as I finally centered myself back in the moment.

As I was looking at the fans in front of me, I kept hearing a loud combined screaming of my name coming from my right.

“HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!”

I had fought of the urge to look that way for far too long, I finally gave up and turned to the side and I swear my heart melted in that moment. Standing there right in front of my eyes was my beautiful wife holding up a sign that said

“FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ;)” with an arrow pointing down at her.

She had the biggest smile on her face and tears streaming down her face as she sung along with me. I had to fight the urge to run down and cuddle the crap out of her.

I almost missed my cue to come into the final verse of the song, as I finished off the song I wrote for the girl standing in front of me, everyone and everything else in the arena turns into nothing and all I see is my soul mate staring right back at me, screaming the words with me.

I hadn’t even noticed the tears sliding down my face until one landed on my hand and I quickly wiped them away, she giggled at me and I saw her mouth the 3 words I’ll always want to hear from her “I love you”.

I’m missing half of me,

When were apart,

Now you know me,

For your eyes only,

For your eyes only

As he was finishing the final lines of the song, his eyes never leaving mine, I could sense he was really trying to tell me that this is what he means. This song encompasses everything that he feels when we aren’t together and even if sometimes he can’t convey that with his words I know he will always feel it.

After the final words of the song, I finally see him smile and he gestures his head at me, motioning towards back stage. I smiled back at him as I nod my head and go to find the security guard again to escort me back stage.

As he talks to the crowd, as if that the song didn’t happen, as if all the fans didn’t hear him dedicate and sing that song to me while he cried, I feel his eyes watch me the entire way back to the doors leading back stage, before I let the doors part us again, I turn around and hold up my sign one more time.

He catches my sign and with a playful grin he winks at me and says something that surprises everyone in the stadium.

“Thank you very much for letting me switch it up folks, but I think I’m gonna need a quick 2 minute break, I drink a lot of water you know”

I laugh through the urge to run after my wife, I start the way back towards the middle of the stage, dropping my mic back into the stand before whispering in Mitch’s ear “I’m gonna be super quick, keep them entertained” I jokingly laughed with Mitch before making my way down the stairs and running off to search for my wife.

I hurried down the long hallways and everyone who saw me moved quickly out of the way, I turned a corner and there she was right at the end of the corridor, standing in front of me with tear stained cheeks that matched my own.

We both practically sprinted to meet each other in the middle, her arms going around my neck and her legs wrapping around my hips. I spun her around and almost squeezed the life out of her.

“I missed you so much lovie” the words were so quiet I wasn’t sure she would hear them.

“I missed you more H” She pulled her head out of my neck and looked at me, tears were starting to spill from her eyes again and I had to put her feet back on the ground so I could wipe them away.

“No more tears darling, I’m so sorry lovie I didn’t mean any of it I swear I always want you around, I need you around and I -” I started rambling words at her and she just softly smiled at me and kissed me just to shut me up. “I know H, I know, we’ll be alright” she chuckled as she said the second part, loving that she was able to sneak in another reference to one of my songs.

“Just say the word lovie, you know I’d give all this up, you just got to ask.”

I looked longingly into my wife’s eyes, waiting for a sign that that’s what she wanted.

Hearing him say those words was not a first time occurrence for us, he actually says them a lot to remind me, and I think himself, that I’m worth more than all the songs, all the fans and all the fame. I smiled up at him through happy tears.

“H I love you, but you and I both know I’m never gonna ask you to do that, I love you being up there almost as much as you do, I love watching you be yourself and singing your heart out and nothing is ever going to change that. Just like nothing is going to change the fact that I love you and I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not!”

I watched as he beamed down at me, his famous grin widening on his face, “I love you more than you know, I’m missing half of me when we are apart darling” he laughed as he kissed the top of my head. I giggled at him and lent up to kiss his lips, as we part he leans his forehead against mine and I get to stare back at my favourite green irises.

“I think there are some people waiting for you H”

I was itching to get into my dressing room after the show finished, knowing that’s where my wife would be waiting for me. I quickly thanked the band and all the back stage people as I started to make my way back to my room. I stopped when I saw Jeff off to the side, I ran up behind him and gave him a big hug.

“Thank you, I don’t know what you did tonight but I know you did something, so thank you”. Jeff laughed as I let him go and as I was running off in the direction of my dressing room I hear him say “Hopefully with your missus around you wont turn into a diva anymore”, I just stuck my finger up at him as I rounded the corner.

I finally made it back to the room that had ‘HARRY’ stuck to the front of it, as I opened it I saw the only thing that I would ever want to see in here after a show.

My gorgeous wife lying across the small couch with her legs all squished up to fit her whole body on there, I figured she came straight from the airport so I’m not surprised she’s already asleep.

I quietly strip out of my stage clothes and change into a clean pair of shorts and a band tee from earlier today, when I’m finished I crouch down in front of my lovie’s face and softly kiss her all over until she slowly wakes from her slumber.

As she peaks open one eye, I giggle at her as I ask “You ready to get going lovie?” and I wasn’t prepared for her reply, grinning as it fills my heart with love.

“I’d go anywhere with you”.

“Really? You’d go anywhere? Anywhere at all?”

“Yes H, I’d go to LA, I’d go to Jamaica, I’d go to Mars, I’d even just go back to our home in London, I’d go where ever you go”

“Oh angel, you are my home”

THANK YOU FOR MAKING IT THIS FAR!!!!! Sorry if the ending is a little cheesy, i couldn’t help my self! Please feel free so send me feedback or requests and pretty please reblog and like!!! xoxo

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ofstarsandvibranium · 3 years

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Rectify: Part 3

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

As requested by anonymous: It would be awesome if you could make a tfatws Bucky fic or series where the reader is on the list for his making amends because the winter soldier did something to her or someone she loves, and once he gets close to her in some way he ends up falling for her and it’s really angsty but a happy ending !!

A/N: FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER SPOILERS AHEAD!!! also, NO TAGLIST WILL BE AVAILBLE.

A/N2: this is a little hard. there's some violence, angst, and bucky has an anxiety attack.

Part 1 Part 2

"P-Please! We don't have them! We destroyed them!" the man suffering under the Soldier's hold rasped out. The man's own hands trying to rip the metal arm off his neck. The Soldier turned the man around, putting him in a chokehold. The man stared into the frightened, weeping wife. There was a snap and the man fell limp.

The woman across the room cried harder as the Soldier marched over to her. She looked up into his emotionless eyes, "Why are you doing? We don't have anything any more! Just tell them we don't have them!"

The Soldier pulled out his silencer and stared deep into the woman's eyes. He pointed the gun at her and spoke clearly, "Hail Hydra." he pulled the trigger and the women fell onto the floor, a splatter of blood smearing down the wall. He pocketed his gun and took another look at the woman, but her face changed.

It was you.

Bucky gasped as he shot up from his place on the floor. It was still dark, but the tv illuminated the room. Bucky was panting, a sheen of sweat covering his care torso.

He ran his vibranium arm through his cropped hair, trying to catch his breath. He swiped up his phone from the floor and mindlessly dialed your number. It rang a few seconds before you answered with a rasped voice, "Bucky?"

He mentally cursed, not even thinking about how you'd be asleep right now.

"Bucky? Is everything okay?"

He gulped and rasped out, "Yeah. Sorry I woke you."

"Was it a nightmare?"

It had been three months since you first met and started talking. Bucky had told you once that he still gets plagued with nightmares, recollections of his time...contracting. He told you that he goes to therapy, but he doesn't think it helps him that much.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" your voice a little bit more clear now.

Yes. "No, it's okay. I'll let you go back to sleep." I'm sorry. It's my fault. I killed your parents. It's my fault.

"Are you sure?"

No. "I'm sure. I'll talk to you later, Y/N."

"Okay, Bucky. Remember that I'm here for you and I care about you okay?"

You shouldn't. "Okay."

"Good night."

"Night." he ends the call and let's his hands fall from his hand and clatter onto the wooden floor.

Bucky started feeling this heaviness in his chest, it was starting to become hard to breath. His tears started to water and he let out a whimper.

He's messed up so much. In the past months he's gotten to know you, become your friend, it made it increasingly hard to tell you the truth. He couldn't stop himself from being drawn to you. You weren't just a name on a list. He couldn't believe he tried to resort you to something so simple when you were anything but. But because of that, he's now put into a difficult situation and no matter what, someone's going to end up getting hurt.

__________________________

Bucky's been distant and you're not sure why. For the past two weeks you've hardly seen him or heard from him. You're curious if something happen, but, because you're such a caring person, you left him messages letting him know that you hope he's doing okay and that you're there for him.

It's after two weeks of silence that you see him again.

He approaches you at the cemetery Sunday afternoon when you're seeing your parents.

He's wearing the black leather jacket that you see him wear often. He wears a hoodie underneath it, and the hood is drawn up. Despite the gorgeous weather out, he looks like he has his own personal rain cloud looming over him.

You shoot up and meet him halfway, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug, "Bucky! Oh my gosh! It's so good to see you! I was so worried!"

You pull back to look at him and he looks so solemn, "Bucky," you breath out his name, "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for disappearing like that. I've-I've just been having a rough few weeks."

"It's okay, Bucky. I understand. Given the things you've gone through, it's understandable that you might go through these things." you put your hand on his arm and squeeze, "But it's okay. You're here now." you then slip your hand into his and pull him towards your parents' plot, "C'mon. Sit with me."

You feel Bucky hesitate and you shoot him a warm smile, "It's okay."

Alarms are going off in Bucky's head as he follows you to your set up.

You should tell her now! You can't keep prolonging it! You just have to accept the consequences of your actions! His and yours!

But he doesn't listen.

No. Not today. I'll tell her. I promise. Just....let me have this with her. One last time.

So that's what he does. He doesn't talk much, letting you do all the talking. You update him on the things that he missed during his two week hiatus. He'd occasionally ask questions for clarity, but other than that he just sat there relishing in your presence and the joy you radiate.

He munches on the snacks you share with him, giving you nods of understanding and gratefulness. There's a moment, after you've both eaten all of the food that a silence washes over you two. It's not an awkward one. It's light and comfortable. For a moment, Bucky feels one hundred percent at peace. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. There's a slight breeze that cancels out the heat the sun provides.

He's looking up at the sky and smiles.

He freezes when he feels warmth press to his cheek. It's not the sun, no. It's your lips. But is there a difference?

He gulps and looks at you when you pull away. You suddenly look really shy, looking down and avoiding his gaze, "Sorry. I don't-I shouldn't have done that."

Just let me have this moment....before I ruin it all.

"Y/N?" Bucky calls out your name and you look up. He suddenly leans over and cups your face with his hands and his lips are on yours. You're shocked for about a second, but then you fall into the kiss. You grip the lapels of Bucky's jacket and you pull him closer. You two end up falling, you backwards and him forwards.

"Oomf!" you say against his lips and he pulls away with a chuckle, "Sorry," he replies in a low murmur.

You softly smile up at him as his face hovers over yours, "It's okay." You two stay in the position, eyes wandering over each other's face, until you speak up again, "I really like you, Bucky."

Then the air changes.

His eyes harden and he climbs off of you and onto your feet, "I'm sorry."

You clamber into a stand, confusion written all over your face, "Wait, Bucky. I'm sor-"

"I have to go." he stuffs his hands into pockets and he's walking away, leaving you alone, too shocked to comprehend what exactly just happened.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #fatws #fatws spoilers #falcon and the winter soldier #falcon and the winter soldier spoilers

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: PART 5 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and figuring out how to survive his new life while finding out a way to keep you in it.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, torture, blood, death eater stuff - the usual !

Words: 7.8K

A/N: FINDING WAYS TO PROLONG THIS SERIES !!!! 😼 AND SORRY IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES ITS VERY LATE AND I NEVER CATCH THEM 😔 but omg my little week long hiatus I took was against my will but i’m back and healthy again and can finally think out sentences again lmao !!! also i DO own gif

Draco stared at the vast, dark marble ceiling as he lied awake. His black silk sheets were strewn across his king bed in a lofty heap from when he had woken up. There was a sheen layer of sweat across his skin, but his room held no warmth and the draft that was coming in from his open windows was nothing less than freezing.

There wasn’t a moment where he had enough peace to sleep, but when he ultimately did; he always regretted ever drifting off when he felt the hot, ravenous feeling that ran through his body when he would jolt awake from a nightmare with his heart thundering against him and the inability to differentiate reality from a subconscious image. He would lie back down, breathing unevenly, and fixate on a random crack in the ceiling and let his now very tortured conscience remind him, “it all happened, you can't escape it!”

And that little malicious voice in his head was right. The horrible images in his mind weren’t made up or conjured by his brain - they were very real and he had lived through them.

He remembered the agonizing decision he had to make when he left the love of his life, jinxed and in hysterics in an abandoned classroom. He remembered his Headmaster, who he had cornered and disarmed who still offered him genuine help and guidance despite the wand pointed in his face. He remembered his once-favorite Professor, kill his Headmaster who he thought for maybe a second would be able to help him. He remembered bounding down the steps of the astronomy tower, wanting to topple over and vomit while he followed closely behind a billowing cape and several sniggering and smug Death Eaters into the halls of the unsuspecting school. He remembered his aunt wreaking havoc on the Great Hall with pure joy as he could only watch in horror while she shattered the windows in her celebration. He remembered walking through a maze of trees in a dazed stupor towards Hagrid’s hut, Bellatrix giggling maniacally beside him as she skipped past him. He remembered seeing Harry run towards them, hurling any hexes and curses he could think of towards Snape while he scurried off. He remembered meeting his mother at the momentarily failing barrier, her hand wrapping tightly around his arm before she apparated them home. He remembered the cold wooden floors underneath him and the way the Manor’s structure seemed to be crashing down onto him as he tried to catch his breath and collect his thoughts.

When he would finish going over every mistake he had made that night, and every choice he could have made instead, he would turn over in his bed and stare out the large window in his room where he could see the cloudy night sky and the nature swinging around in the wind like it was in a constant state of what seemed like an approaching tornado. He would wonder about you, and what you were doing and what you thought of him. He wondered if you meant what you said - if you would truly never forgive him for leaving you there. He wondered if you thought it was him who killed Dumbledore and how you probably saw him as a killer now. He was in ceaseless disarray of wonder, a painful wonder that he couldn’t escape.

He didn’t dare try to owl you, especially with Bellatrix around the house as a very vigilant guard dog that noticed anything and everything. There were barely any opportunities in which he could leave the Manor, not by foot, by broom, or apparate. He was a prisoner in his own home, just as much as he was in his mind. The increasing amount of Death Eaters that came and went every day made him feel more unsettled than ever, all of them giving him intimidating and sneering looks as if he was a joke while they forcefully turned the Manor into their place of 'work'.

The day Lucius was released from Azkaban, Draco felt a slight hope that things would improve, that his father could somehow find a way to fix things for them as he always had and the young boy could finally step down from the responsibility he felt for his family. But what he saw in the foyer of his home wasn’t Lucius Malfoy; influential, formidable and feared by many - he saw a shell of a man who had lost all sense of who he was and had paid greatly for his failures. He recalled how his father had embraced him in a weak and shuddering hug, clinging onto him as a spew of desperate words incessantly flew from his mouth without making much sense.

He knew immediately then that his father couldn’t swoop in and fix all his problems, and his mother couldn’t be left alone in all this. He was stuck, whether he liked it or not, and he had to follow through on anything and everything the Dark Lord expected from him or wanted out of his family.

He hated the way his home was defiled with death and wickedness. He hated the way there were lifeless bodies littered around the living room sometimes. He hated the echoing cries and pleas of those who were locked up in the dungeon below. He hated seeing Voldermort use his home as his headquarters, pacing the room in a self-given majesty and humiliating his father every chance he could get. The only reason the Malfoys weren’t killed off yet was, in Draco’s opinion, to be used as an example of what happens when you fail the Dark Lord, to be used as malicious entertainment, and to see just how far someone could be tortured from the inside. Draco did mend the cabinet, but he didn’t kill Dumbledore or die trying as his master had desired. He was always visibly apprehensive of everything he had to do and every order he was given. He wasn’t willingly cruel or vile and hated the idea of actually hurting anyone. His father had failed every mission he was given, and his mother wasn’t a Death Eater, to begin with. They were just there, as pawns and as sadistic pleasure.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was subsequently, a rare day that the Manor was empty. No one was walking through the halls or running their mucky shoes on the expensive upholstery of the furniture as they relaxed into it. Even his father was out, along with Bellatrix, which left only him and his mother at home.

Narcissa Malfoy was just as arrogant as her husband, valued the pro-pure-blood ideals she grew up with, and always appeared to be very cold and haughty. Yet there was one thing that she valued above most; her family. She was entirely devoted to her son and husband and loved them profoundly. It was for Draco she worried for the most and would do anything for. It was for Draco she would risk everything for and go against the Dark Lord for.

So on the night she brought her son back home, and he was breaking down in her arms with cries about a girl she had never heard of - it piqued her curiosity more than she wanted to admit. She had asked Draco who you were a handful of times since that night, but he always refused to answer. She even went as far as asking Snape, pulling him aside one night behind a dark pillar in her home as everyone was leaving and whispered secretly to him.

“Severus, I know I’ve asked too much of you already but I need to know this,” she rushed to say in a very hushed and imperceptible tone but she knew he had heard her. He raised an eyebrow, looking at her quizzically.

“What might that be?”

“On the night Draco came home, he was calling out for someone,” she began, “do you know if he was involved with anyone by the name of Y/N?”

She could have sworn she saw a twinge of muscles move in his cheek, but he only shook his head shortly from side to side.

“I apologize, Narcissa, but I know no student by that name,” he sighed. “Draco spent most of his time mending the vanishing cabinet, I doubt he had time to be venturing out in his love life.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t brush off the intuition that was beating against her gut, nearly screaming at her that she was being lied to and there was more to the story. It’s not like she wanted the information to hurt you or to judge, she simply wanted to know who had broken through to her son during the year he was the most closed off. Who had impacted him so greatly, that now that it was seemingly over left him in shambles and withdrawn almost completely. If anything, she wanted to help. And if there was a possibility where she could, she would help Draco take it if it meant it would make his life easier. There was nothing more she wanted for him, free of pain and filled with hope, and if a certain individual would help her get him there - she would be willing to see it through.

With the opportunity of everyone gone, Narcissa trailed up to Draco’s room, letting her knuckles fall softly against the wooden double doors three times.

“Draco, dear, would you like to join me on a walk?”

She heard a shuffling from behind the door and a sharp sniffle, taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to see his poorly hidden tears that she knew she would be met with.

As she predicted, the doors opened and the blond stepped out of his room, lowering his red-rimmed eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t have to meet her worried gaze. He looked well-groomed as always, but she took notice that his skin seemed gray and dull. His eye bags were deep and nearly black from all his crying and lack of sleep. When she linked her arm through his, she felt the slight weight he had unwillingly lost in the past month that he’s been home. Her mind was spinning with concern, promising herself there that she was ready to do whatever she could for him, anything she could.

She led them out of their cold and darkened home, stepping out into the gardens that sat behind the Manor in a large vastness of gorgeous flower arrangements of whites, greens, and reds. There was a large marble fountain placed in the middle of the garden, spewing water smoothly from a small bowl that spilled into a larger one beneath it. It was boxed in with stone and surrounded with red amaryllis flowers, giving anyone enough space to sit around it without being splattered by droplets of water.

It was a gloomy day, but a warm afternoon sun had peaked through the clouds and cast a glowy light around the house that she hadn’t seen in ages. It made her feel hopeful as she walked her and Draco through the garden, thinking of ways on how to approach him. She knew he had shot her down and changed the subject every time she brought up your name, even if it was in privacy, and she pleaded to the stars that this would ultimately be the chance she would get to find out.

When they reached the fountain, she sat them down and watched as Draco slouched, silent and staring distantly at his shoes.

“Dear, I know you hate for me to bring this up,” she started slowly, shaking her head as she spoke, “but I want to know who she is. I want to be able to help you, and maybe even her. I know you’re in love, I see it in your eyes and I see it now that you’re apart. I know everything else certainly applies to how you’re feeling, but there’s a look for heartbreak, and you have it.”

Draco looked up at her, finally peering into her worried eyes as he contemplated what she said and what she offered. The last time he told someone about you, he was reprimanded and denied any sort of help, only suggestions for abandonment were given. He wanted to tell his mother all about you, but he wished it was under happier circumstances, however.

He wished it would be him coming home during the summer, no Voldermort or Death Eaters in his life or his family’s, and arriving with you by his side after sending an owl to his parents about the new love in his life he wanted them to meet. He would boast about you and your smarts, care, ambitions, and beauty. He would make sure his parents understood just how important you were to him and just how amazing you truly were. He imagined their inevitable surrender and allowing him to invite you on one of their luxurious trips to somewhere beautiful and expensive. He pictured a yacht ride in Italy, your skin glowing and your smile bright as you gazed at him in delight under a warm summer sun. Or a grandeur trip to France, walking around the Parisian streets with you as he spoiled you with gifts and delicious gourmet food while ending the night under the Eiffel Tower. He wanted to see you leave on shopping trips with his mother, the two of you coming back with heavy bags and new memories while his mother would walk by him and secretly whisper, “I love her!” to him. He wanted to flaunt you, and boast and gloat all about you - but the circumstances now were dreadful, and to talk about how he had failed you made him want to cry all over again.

His mother waited patiently for his reply, clasping her hands together in her lap as he stayed quiet while he decided. He was so used to sulking and torturing himself on his own in the past month, that seeing a genuine look of concern and desire to help pushed him into making his final resolve.

“I met her around the beginning of last year,” he breathed out finally, “her name is Y/N Y/L/N, we had a Potions class together but I met her in one of the corridors where we accidentally bumped into each other. I sprained a finger trying to catch myself and she healed it without a second thought. She wants to be a Healer at St. Mungo’s after Hogwarts, and she’s very skilled with her wand. She’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met and the kindest. She always listened to me, and helped me, and encouraged me. She always reassured me when I needed it, and if it weren’t for her I don’t think I would have mended the cabinet or even had the energy to wake up every day. She stayed with me even when I told her the truth about everything. I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel the way she does, I can’t explain it, she makes me feel-”

“Alive?” His mother softly finished for him. “She makes you feel alive.”

“Yes,” he nods fervently, “I love her and I failed her. I don’t think there’s anything I can do now and neither can you.”

“I beg to differ,” she briskly interjects. “It’s never too late for anything, Draco. There’s always an opportunity to make things right, as long as you try. She at least deserves an explanation and an apology, and it will be up to her to decide what she wants to do. She sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you met someone who brings out your best.”

Draco agreed wordlessly, his tears sitting at the brink of his eyelids begging to be released as he mulled over everything that was said. He knew where you lived, having learned the fact somewhere in your relationship when you were talking about your childhood and where you were from. He knew the place you called home and the address that came with it that you constantly reminded him of in hopeful jokes that he would visit you over the summer.

“There’s no one here, no one would know you’re gone,” Narcissa encourages swiftly as if she knew what he was thinking about. “It’ll be a few hours before anyone returns. Go to her.”

“But if I become involved with her again, he’ll find out, won’t he?” He insinuates in distress. “The reason I left her was to keep her safe from him, I don’t want her anywhere near this.”

“He won’t find out,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it. Go.”

There was a hopeful and elating sensation that ran through his veins as he stood up, turning back to look at his mother as she nodded at him optimistically. He suddenly lunged towards her, giving her a tight hug and muttering thank you’s to her like a broken record before running out of the garden towards the front gate of the Manor.

As soon as he reached his exit, he used his newfound Death Eater ability to half-apparate himself into a thick black cloud of smoke that allowed him to fly over to where you were - not giving a care in the world if he were seen by muggles as he recklessly took every shortcut he knew towards your hometown.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There was a slight breeze in the cloudy air that brought you comfort. It was cold, but refreshing - a sharp contrast against the burning feeling that never seemed to leave your body. You were back home now, in your small little town in England that held little to no wizards.

You spent a lot of your time wandering around the local stores and cafes nearby, mingling with strangers as you told them fake life stories for fun. There was also the small forest behind your house you regularly enjoyed, and all the small hidden creatures that you encountered along the way. You always brought along your family cat, the chunky orange tabby always finding his way for you outside of the forest when you got too far in, or if he sensed there was nearby danger and would warn you. Sometimes you would talk to him, complain to him about everything that was bothering you and he would respond to you now and then with broken meows and chirps that made you feel like he understood, even though he didn’t. It made you feel less alone.

Of course, you had your family that worried over your changed behaviors. They weren’t oblivious. They noticed the puffy eyes, the sniffles, and the quiet sobs that escaped under the space of your bedroom door when they would pass by in the middle of the night to get a glass of water from the kitchen. They noticed your sudden quietness, and your lack of interest in everything and hardly found you in the house. You were always out and about, trying to find anything and anyone to distract yourself from what was going on in your mind.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to talk to your family, even though they had incessantly offered their support, you just knew they wouldn’t understand. They would want to know about Draco, his family, and their beliefs. They would eventually figure out of his involvement with the Dark Lord and the looming second Wizarding war. They wouldn’t approve, and you didn’t want to hear the scolding you would get for ever giving him the time of day. You were bitter enough as it was, and the last thing you wanted to hear was how bad Draco was and how you were better off without him.

But even if you were supposed to be better off without him, a life where he wasn’t in it didn’t feel good at all. It felt empty and lost. You were used to his presence always being around you and how he was always a few minutes away from you. He was always available to you for anything and willingly; for company, affection, comfort, reassurance, love, everything. You hated the fact that you let yourself get attached, especially when you knew deep down the direction the relationship was going in.

There were days when you would wake up okay. Days where your mind blocked out your feelings entirely, including Draco and all the memories that came with him. There were days when you felt like you had finally forced yourself to move on, but always finding it to wear off when you’d clamber into bed at night and your brain started illustrating everything you didn’t want to remember. The silver band bracelet he had gifted you was in constant movement from your wrist and jewelry box, hidden on the days you wanted to forget him or sitting pretty on your skin on the days you missed him the most. As much as it hurt to think about him and remember him, you couldn’t stop the way your whole being drifted towards him.

You were currently stepping over a big fallen tree trunk covered in thick green moss, your cat following closely by your leg as he pranced and jumped over all his obstacles. You walked mindlessly around the greenery, not taking notice in the shape of the leaves of the fern you were placing your hand upon to move out of your way. It wasn’t until you felt the sharpened ends of the leaves dig deep into your skin that made you recoil your hand back in pain, a slight hiss leaving your mouth as a small gash began to form with blood flowing quickly upwards out of the new cut. Your hand was held in the air as you frantically looked around for anything that would stop the bleeding that was now dripping sleekly down your arm.

“Stupid ministry and underage magic,” you mutter under your breath. Your wand was in your pocket, begging to be used, but the idea of being sent a letter from the ministry that was now under the Voldermort's control quickly dispersed any desire you had to use it. “Come on, kitty. Let’s go back home, please.”

'Home' was a word the cat did understand. He bumped your leg with his head before meowing loudly at you as he began trotting off to your right side towards the exit of the forest. He moved stealthily, dodging in and out of everything that was in his path as you attempted to follow in his cleared steps. Every time you would trip or rest briefly, he would stop ahead of you and wait until you would walk towards him again before he started back on the journey.

When you finally saw your house in the distance, you sighed in relief at the thought of your first aid kit waiting patiently for you in the bathroom cupboard. And belatedly, your feet hit the stone path that led home, skipping slightly with your hand in the air before nearly toppling over your cat as he stopped abruptly in your path. You moved out of the way, last minute, and very clumsily before eyeing him suspiciously.

He was looking up at the sky, his ears pulled back and the fur on his back straightening up as his eyes frantically searched around the clouds above him. He wasn’t hissing like he normally did when he felt something dangerous coming, he looked more confused and alert than anything. You searched the sky with him for a minute before concluding he was being too wary so you bent down and pick him up with your uninjured hand, nearly scooping him into your arms until he carefully swiped at your arm.

“You’re being dramatic, there’s nothing there,” you exclaim at him irritably. You were stumped, on one hand, literally, you were still bleeding though it had significantly slowed down and was now just coagulated blood, and on the other hand, you couldn’t leave the cat outside because of the number of dead critters he left in his past outdoor ventures around the yard and his sometimes week-long disappearances that left everyone in the house worried.

In just a few seconds of your thinking, he had sprung forward and rushed towards the large open field that was a few feet away from your house. Although it was summer, it had been rainy and allowed the grassy field to flourish in tall and wild greenery. This did not help as you watched the fluff of orange disappear into the small jungle that lied ahead and you began to sprint after him, spotting his bushy tail in your vision every time he jumped over something. If you could use magic, this little ordeal would have gone much more different - but you couldn’t.

You chased him until the very near end of the field, spotting him sitting calmly as he looked back at you as if he was expecting you. Rolling your eyes, you reached towards him again to pick him up, if he wanted to go back to the house scratching and biting then so be it. You trained your gaze on him, trying your best to grab him as carefully and as slyly as you could. But as soon as your hand landed on the silky fur of his back, you heard a soft whooshing sound a few feet away in front of you and a very audible shuffle of dead grass crunching underneath someone's shoes as they moved slowly.

You didn’t look up, all of a sudden feeling scared at who could have magically appeared in front of you, and instead, you waited for your cat to hiss and attack, but he sat himself down in a loaf as if he were in the most comfortable place in existence. This is when you looked up, and the sight before you was like an invisible force that knocked you onto your bottom as you jumped back in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

What was supposed to sound like a concerned question, came out a little ruder than you had intended, almost seething at the boy that was fearfully staring down at you.

“I’m sorry,” Draco ran his hands over his pallid face in distress, “I shouldn’t have come.”

There was an awkwardness that hung in the air. The two of you were finally where you had wanted to be, together, but now that you were face-to-face it couldn’t have been more perplexing. He didn’t know how to begin, and you weren’t sure if you should even listen to him. It was like a weird staring competition, he was taking in everything about you as you were doing the same to him. It was obvious you were both a wreck, and the damage was apparent on him the most as he was dealing with his Death Eater status now more than ever.

“Your hand is bleeding,” he stated suddenly. You didn’t have time to answer before he had cautiously walked over to you and sat down beside you in a flattened patch of grass. “Let me see it.”

Like magnets, your hand instantly fell into his cold grasp without you thinking about it. You eyed him carefully and quietly, observing him as he turned your injured hand over in his and inspected your gash like you had done many times in the past for him. You didn’t stop him when he took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over your wound, murmuring a familiar spell that closed the cut with ease, a small pink scar left in its place.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that,” you say lightly. “Thank you.”

“I learned from the best,” he smiles faintly.

Neither of you moved from your sitting spots, and neither of you said anything. He would meet your eyes now and then and search them with such a pained expression that it took everything in you not to just throw yourself into his arms and cry in relief that he was there.

“I know it was Snape who killed Dumbledore and not you,” you break the silence apprehensively. “Harry told me.”

“Potter told you?” He grimaced, but he let out a breath of relief. “I would’ve thought the git would have loved to throw me under the bus. I didn’t even know he was there, then I see him chasing us down-”

“Draco, why are you here?” You asked him again, gingerly this time and cutting him off from his rambling in hopes that he would just cut to the chase on his unannounced appearance. He sighed, looking down at his now muddy, once expensive dress shoes.

“I needed to see you,” he answers honestly. “And I wanted to apologize for how I left things.”

You peered up at him with a raised eyebrow, bringing your knees up to your chest so you could rest your head against them as you faced him. “Let’s hear it.”

“I’m serious,” he frowned. “I’m sorry I used my wand against you. I’m sorry I shut you out. I’m sorry I left without giving you much of an explanation. I’m sorry I abandoned you and disappeared off the face of the Earth. I’m sorry I broke my promise that I would never leave you again.”

“Draco-”

“No, wait, I need you to understand that I thought leaving you was the only thing that would keep you safe. I would have never forgiven myself if I let you die for trying to help me, even if you say you’re ready to accept whatever fate is in store for you, I’m not. But I don’t want to run anymore, I don’t want to be away from you, I can’t do it and I always think I can let you go for your safety, but I can’t.”

There was a brief period of stillness as you contemplated his apology. Your head moved to fall in between your knees as your hands began to fiddle with the long strands of grass beneath you. You were stripping it and pulling at it, hoping that there would be a hidden message underneath the earth that would give you an answer on what to say or what to do, but it wasn’t possible. The only thing you found was the loose pitiful tears slipping down your face that seeped into spots of dry soil. Draco stayed wordless beside you, the only sound coming from him was uneven breaths as he stressed over your reaction.

You were caught in between wanting to give in, wanting to forgive him, and hug him and kiss him to make up for all the tortuous time lost, but there was also a part of you that was now afraid to trust. You wanted to, so badly, but everything felt so unpredictable. You weren’t sure whether you could handle him leaving again if he had to. And if he were to die at the end of all of this? There was no way you’d be able to recover from a loss like that. He was on an unforeseeable path that held no clear outcome.

“I’m scared, Dray,” you sniffle, closing your eyes tightly as you began to answer him. “We’re not kids anymore fooling around at school. Everything is getting more real by the day. How am I supposed to be comfortable with the idea that you might-”

You stopped yourself from finishing, a soft sob escaping your throat at the near mention of his possible death. You felt him scoot closer to you, stopping about a few inches away from your shuddering body as he placed a reassuring hand on your lower back.

“You say you can’t accept the decision I made when I said I’m ready for whatever fate lies ahead of me,” you mumble miserably. “Well, I can’t accept yours either.”

“I won’t make any more promises I can’t keep,” he starts warily, “but I can promise you that as long as I’m around, I won’t let anyone hurt you, ever. And as far as my future goes, I promise that I’ll do everything and anything I can to survive this.”

You had unhooked your arms from around your legs, bringing them underneath you as you sat yourself up to face him better. He was staring at you intently, hopeful gray eyes boring into yours with every emotion under the sun flashing through them. He didn’t show it, but he felt like at any moment he was going to faint. He had never seen such uncertainty on your face and it killed him, but he tried to remain stoic as he spoke and kept a brave face at every concern you had. He couldn’t guarantee you anything that lied ahead, but there was also nothing he wouldn’t do for you now.

“Okay,” you agree, finally giving him the consolation he had been woefully praying for. “I believe you, we can get through this together.”

There wasn’t another second spared before you speedily moved out of your sitting position to pounce him with a tight and suffocating hug. It was desperate and smothering, his arms wrapped tightly around your lower back as he pressed you deeply into his body as if you were going to disappear any second.

You didn’t care that you could barely breathe against his chest or that your knee was digging into the mud below you. It was the most relieving feeling in the world, finally being in his arms again with new hopes and possibilities that always found a way to present themselves. It was one of the many reasons that you knew he was the one for you. Everything with him felt easy, even if the world was crashing down around you. He could melt away all your pain and worries with one look, touch, or words. He felt like home and heaven all in one.

It came to you in the middle of your longing hug, that there was always going to be something looming over the two of you in the current state that the wizarding world was in. There’s no point in wasting time when everything could change overnight, just as it had that unforsaken day at Hogwarts before you were dragged home the next day. There was no reason for trying to stay away from him when it was everything you wanted and you knew then that you needed to take advantage of whatever time you had left with him.

“I'm sorry for saying I would never forgive you that night,” you murmur into the crook of his neck. “And for being stubborn.”

“You had all the right to be angry with me,” he laments.

“But it didn’t make it okay,” you nuzzle yourself deeper in his embrace, frowning to yourself as you recalled the night.

He looked down at you, a pang of guilt hitting him when he saw the corners of your lips pulled down in sadness. He leaned down and carefully placed a kiss on your temple, lingering for a bit before moving away and muttering, “nothing about that night was okay.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There wasn’t an inkling of an idea how long the two of you were sat outside, holding on tightly to each other as you filled each other in on any news that happened in the last month since you’ve seen each other. The only indication that let the two of you know that time had surely passed was that the sun had begun setting behind the valley in the distance. The moon now had a faint appearance in the purplish evening sky that was for the first time in a while, free of the heavy cloud covers.

You listened attentively as he told you about the Manor and how it was being used as a Death Eater meeting place. He told you about his father being released from Azkaban as a treat for the Malfoy’s since he had fixed the cabinet and disarmed Dumbledore for Snape to finish, unknowing to him that he would. He explained to you how ghostly he felt when he was venturing out of the school that night. He even scarcely described the horror that had gone on in the dead of night, when victims had been brought back to the house for ‘interrogations’ and the way their screams would keep him wide awake for days.

You nearly felt sick to your stomach the longer he went on, empathizing with him delicately when he would sometimes stop talking to take a deep painful shaky breath. The guilt that was eating away at him wasn’t hidden or pushed down, he expressed it very obviously and you couldn’t picture how he managed to hold a straight face in the sea of terrors he had encountered.

“You’re nothing like them,” you whispered tenderly to him when you saw the distant broken look that clouded his eyes. “You are good, Draco. Not once have I ever changed my mind about that.”

He was slipping, far and fast into the depths of his despair. His new life away from school was eating away at him now that he was forced to experience it upfront. He wasn’t cut out for it, nor did he want anything to do with it. It physically pained you that there was nothing you could do except offer him what you’ve always been able to provide; a listening ear and to remind him that he’s not the evil monster he deludes himself to be.

“I don’t want to talk about me anymore,” he mumbled gloomily, taking your hand into his as he turned to look at you. “I want to hear about you and your summer.”

“It wasn’t pleasant or anything, honestly,” you shrug, “I spent most of it in the village nearby and the forest behind my house with my cat, who by the way knew you were coming somehow.”

You both suddenly turned to look for the orange tabby who had seemingly disappeared without either of you noticing sometime throughout the evening.

“Where is the little critter so I can thank him for leading you to me,” he chuckled softly as you rolled your eyes.

“He’s probably back at home now but I’ll pass the message,” you bite back a smirk.

Draco felt the familiar fluttering of pixies in his stomach as he looked at you, a sense of exhilaration and delight shocking his body from its usual anguished state. He was so far gone in you and he never wanted to leave the feelings you left him with and with such little effort. He couldn’t count how many times he had the same thought in his head when he was around you, much like your own, he knew with you was where he was at his calmest and his happiest. It was like a chunk of agony being released from him that made him feel like he could breathe again without feeling like he was going to drown. Even if it was just for a few hours, he was always grateful for moments he shared with you and the comfort you brought him.

“I love you,” he said dazed, eyes locking onto yours intimately. “I hope you know that.”

"I love you,” you repeated, a coy smile making its way onto your features.

“You know,” his thumb began mindlessly running over your knuckles as he spoke, “if it wasn’t for my mother knocking some sense into me earlier, I wouldn’t have had the great idea to show up here.”

He looked over at you when he felt you tense up completely, slightly worried at first before a small amusement quickly replaced his fear when he noticed you were gaping at him with wide wondrous eyes.

“You told her about me?”

“All about you,” he nods, “I accidentally let your name slip a while back and she’s been asking me about you ever since. I didn’t want to say anything in case someone heard, but everyone was gone today and she got it out of me.”

“What did she say about me?” You asked him timidly as if it was the most important thing in the world for you.

He chortled quietly at your nervousness, “she said she thinks you’re wonderful and she’s glad we met. She pushed me to come and make things right with you and she offered to look out for us.”

There was an intense delight that beat against your chest at his answer. The only other person in his life who’s opinion he valued the most above all had made one about you, and it was one that was better than anything you could have ever hoped for. Narcissa Malfoy had vouched for you before she’s even properly met you and it left you feeling astounded and beyond appreciative.

“When you get home, please send her my regards,” you plead heartily, your hands clutching onto the lapels of his suit jacket as he laughed lightly.

“I will, I will,” he smiles, “I have to be home soon, so she’ll hear about it within the next half hour.”

Draco pulled you up with him as he stood up, both of you finally stretching out your limbs with groans and sighs of relief from the tension of sitting for so long.

As you peered up at him, you let your hands slide up into the platinum blond strands that looked brighter than ever under the now bright moonlight. He placed a hand over one of your wrists, a smile growing on his face as he noticed the silver band sitting warmly against your skin. He leaned forward to press his forehead against yours, letting himself stay there for a minute as he tried to revel in the last few moments of peace he was going to try and prolong for the rest of his night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he cupped your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazed delicately over your cheekbone as you leaned into his touch. “Right back with you.”

“I’ll be waiting, Malfoy,” you grin.

For the first time that night, he ducked down and pressed his lips soft against yours. The gentleness quickly dissipated into longing and fervor as he kissed you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do, seeking the closeness and union he missed so desperately. Neither of you made any move to pull apart as you melted into each other, basking completely in the feeling of being so close to one another like this again.

If it wasn’t for you worrying about his timely arrival back home before everyone, you would have allowed him to keep you like that forever. But much to your dismay, you tapped him lightly against his chest that let him know it was really time for him to leave if he wanted to keep his secret trip, secret.

You stood there sadly, watching him as he unwillingly backed away from you and whispered one more goodbye to you before he disappeared into the sky in a ghost of black smoke, the aroma of his cologne still lingering in the air and a swollen feeling against your lips that left you feeling fuzzy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The Malfoy Manor was staring eerily back at Draco when he finally arrived back in front of the main gate of the home. It was deathly quiet and dark, only a small light could be seen from the living room as he approached further into the property.

He swiftly ran up the steps, hand falling carefully onto the brass doorknob of the front entrance, stopping in his tracks completely when he heard a mixture of hushed angry voices.

“I told you, Bella,” he heard his mother exclaim fiercely. “He only went out to clear his head.”

“Clear his head of what?” his aunt sneered. “He’s falling weak, Cissy. He should be running around in joy that the Dark Lord has him in his inner circle.”

“My son is not weak, don’t you think this can all be a little overwhelming for someone who hasn’t even finished his schooling?” His mother defended him and he could picture the exact sneer on her face as she spoke.

“I want to know where he went,” Bellatrix says hotly, “he’s been gone too long.”

Draco ran through a list of excuses in his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat when he decided on one and put on a straight face as he turned the doorknob, cautiously stepping into the dimly lit living room where both his parents and aunt were waiting for him.

“Ah, there he is,” his father announced as he was the first one to see the boy clambering inside.

“I’m sorry I went off for so long,” Draco spoke up before anyone could ask. “I remember someone mentioning they had spotted Potter around a village nearby so I tried to go look for him.”

“Did you?” Bellatrix chastised. “And nothing?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged with a feigned annoyance.

“And you were alone?” She added with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, all by myself.”

Narcissa gave her sister a pointed look as she walked up to Draco, hand gripping tightly onto his arm before leading him away from the surprise interrogation and towards the foot of the stairs where she stopped him hastily.

“How did it go?” She asked almost inaudibly.

“Y/N sends her regards,” he whispered, “thank you.”

He gave his mother a warm hug good night before he hurriedly bounded up the stairs, looking down towards the living room once more where Bellatrix was eyeing him carefully. He decided on giving her a curt nod before vanishing into his bedroom and letting himself fall against the shut double doors, a large exhale of relief slipping past his lips as he was now safe to freely recall the night with a dazed smile he didn’t want to let go of.

PART 6

TAGLIST:

@viirgobbyy @bluesunflowersz @dreamyvcid @goddessofgames @natt-nih @cheesecakes-randomshitz @supersouthy @rebellionsarebuiltonhopee @peter-parka @thefandomplace @angelofslytherin @karentheugly @thebirdskeeponsinging @rubbyy420 @bimyoux @lovely-valllll @angstywhore @moose-squirrel-asstiel @lordfxxker @dommiefinch @johannalauraaa @aestheticallymarauderss @mrs-isabela-malfoy @dogglefoggle @ba-responds @1tristful1

APOLOGIES IF I FORGOT ANYONEEE 🥺 BUT I REALLY HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER EVEN THO IT WASNT TOOO EVENTFUL ❤️❤️❤️❤️ I GOT ACTION FOR THE NEXT PIECES THO JUST WAITTTT

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naomibeetee · 2 years

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Overcoming Your Writing Hiatus

Well, we’ve all been there. We didn’t mean for it to happen, but it just…did.

We stopped writing.

Sometimes it's a "taking a break" sort of thing, or sometimes life just gets in the way. Regardless, your writing has not seen the light of day for a long time. Could be a week, or a month, or a year; our WIP was once a priority, but now it's on the back burner...burning.

It happens, and trust me, you aren't the first person to feel the bone-chilling stare of your book baby on your back when you do something that doesn't include it.

But here you are, ready to get back into it. You've finally managed to pick your schedule apart to get some writing in, or decided that your break has long expired, and it's time to face that manuscript.

Great! Now what?

Jumping right back into your WIP can be an intimidating process. Maybe you are feeling rusty, or like you've lost your Writing Voice, or you simply can't remember where you left off, or where you were planning on going.

And that's where I come in! In today's blog, I have compiled a list of 8 things you can do when the time to break through that hiatus wall comes. You'll not only emerge on the other side a stronger writer, but you'll know how to break the cycle if another hiatus should rear its ugly head.

Without further ado, here are my top 8 tips on breaking out of that writing hiatus!

1) Don't Beat Yourself Up (too much)

Unexpected breaks happen. Procrastination happens. Putting your WIP into an indefinite time-out happens.

Life gets busy. Priorities get adjusted. Book babies get put on the shelf.

Whatever your reasons are for suddenly not writing, you can't beat yourself up about it too much. You are only human, and life isn't as straight forward as we need it to be sometimes. It can take very little to set you off balance and onto a completely different course (one that doesn't include writing every single day). It happens, and it's ok.

Feeling guilty for the time spent away from your computer or notepad might cause you to prolong your hiatus, ultimately doing more damage than good.

However, if you are like me, and are determined to grieve for the lost time you could have spent working on your WIP, then do it — with boundaries. Give yourself some time to feel sorry for yourself. Have that candy, drink that wine, and blow off the dust that's collected on your WIP. Set a time limit to host your pity party, and when the time is up, so is your party. Wipe your eyes, put away the junk food, turn off the dance party mix, and get back to your computer.

Another pointer here: The biggest step is admitting that it's been a hot minute since you last wrote. To remain in denial is to remain in your hiatus. Which is a bummer. I don't recommend it.

2) Start Slow

If the idea of jumping straight into your WIP is too intimidating, start small!

Join in on online writing challenges, exercises, and prompts. You can find them almost anywhere. Here are a few examples:

- Twitter

- Facebook

- Pinterest

- Instagram

(Photo is an example found on Pinterest. All credit goes to WRITING.PROMPT.S)

These are a great way to ease your brain into thinking about your WIP, your setting, your characters, and your plot. Not to mention, it is a great way to interact with other writers, as well as promote interest in your writing. Win-win-win!

If participating in prompts that focus on your book baby freaks you out, don't worry; there are a plethora of exercises out there — all with the end goal of getting you back into writing.

Journaling is also a great way to get your words flowing, your creativity moving, and your brain back into the rhythm of purposeful writing. I probably don't need to say this, but you don't have to journal about writing — unless it helps. You can journal about ANYTHING.

How you're feeling, how your day went, about the book you are reading, or even how the Starbucks barista messed up on your name yet again. The options are endless!

If you aren't sure what to journal about, there are journals out there with daily prompts as well! Fun!

Small exercises not only will help stimulate your creativity, but will also help eradicate the potential anxiety you may feel about being, "Rusty", or that ever present fear of, "What if I'm never in the writing mood EVER AGAIN??"

Don't worry. It'll come.

3) Get Back Into Reading

I find that, for myself, writing and reading go hand in hand. If I'm not doing one, chances are I'm not doing the other. If you are in the process of attempting to break out of your hiatus, but aren't quite ready to dive back into your WIP, then I would recommend the next best thing: reading.

- Your outline.

- The notes on your phone.

- The dialogue threads you've been playing around with.

- Novels in your genre.

- Blogs on writing tips…😎

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: reading is a FANTASTIC way to help breathe life into your creativity without being too taxing. Reading is a very stimulating and restorative activity, and I often find that I'm itching to get back into writing after taking time to read.

Reading novels (especially in your genre) is a great way to relax, learn, and brainstorm — all without the added pressure of needing to chain yourself to your desk and write.

Don't have time to read? Listen to an audio book on your way to work, while you clean the house, or while you workout.

4) Set A Goal

And no, I don't mean simply adding "WRITE" to your planner.

Adding details and realistic aspects to your goal makes it a real, tangible thing that you can obtain.

If your goal is vague, you are less likely to accomplish it, or even know WHEN you've accomplished it.

Putting "WRITE" in your planner can be overwhelming, and a real mood-killer when it comes to trying to hit that goal.

Instead, try something like this:

- “Today I’ll write 5000 words”

- “Today I’ll write until I make it to page 52″

- “Today I’ll set the timer for 1 hour, and I won’t stop writing until it goes off”

These goals that have a clear beginning and end. You know where you need to start, and you know when you've finished. You know the exact moment where you can breathe a sigh of relief and say to yourself: "I absolutely nailed it today."

You can be bold, but there should be a limit. It's important to remember to be realistic. Don't say, "Write all day," if you know that you have a baby shower to attend that afternoon, or drinks with friends that evening, or have to work all day. Instead, saying: "Write 3 hours this morning until baby shower," or, "Write for 1 hour after work," is less likely to result in a guilt-inducing heartbreak.

5) Refrain From Editing As You Go

Don’t edit as you go. For the love of God, don’t edit as you go.

Accept the fact that you are going to be rusty, and move on. Right now, on the brink of exiting the hiatus, all that’s important is getting the words out. Save the editing for later. That’s what drafts (and drafts, and drafts) are for.

The minute you start analyzing what you are writing, you’re going to only focus on how awkward and rough things are sounding, and you’ll lose your gumption to push forward. Instead of thinking, “Writing, writing, writing,” you’ll be thinking, “Oh my goodness whyyyyyyyy?!"

Don’t do that.

6) Skip The Chronological Order

Now, I don't normally recommend this; I’m a fan of writing in chronological order, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

If you were stuck on a killer scene before you stopped writing and are dreading going back to it (especially now that you are feeling a bit out of touch with your writer side), maybe start somewhere a bit easier.

Maybe there’s a scene you’ve been dying to get to, and you know that you could totally write the crap out of it. Maybe you know EXACTLY how you want your WIP to end, or you have several threads of dialogue that you know would go GREAT in a chapter down the road. That's awesome! Feed your ego and start there, shaking off the rust as you go. It might feel weird, or it might make you feel amazing and ready to take on the spot you were previously stuck in.

And if you already don't do the whole chronological order thing, then A) You are a wizard, and B) Jump to a different section to sink your teeth into.

7) Restart Your Rituals

Humans, by nature, are creatures of habit, and setting up a routine or ritual is a great way to set yourself up for writing success.

What were your writing rituals pre-hiatus? Did you get up super early in the morning to get some writing in when the rest of the world was asleep? Did you wait until the bitter end of the day before you turned on your computer? Did you have a dance party in your living room before you sat down at your desk?

What did you do before you actively started writing each time?

Did it work for you? If it didn’t, switch it up!

If you used to write first thing in the morning, maybe try writing when you get home from work, or before you go to bed. If you feel like you're never relaxed or focused enough to write, try lighting a candle, meditating, and pouring yourself a cup of tea. If you have too much energy to possibly sit down at your desk, try going for a walk, or working out.

There are so many things you can do to establish a writing routine for yourself, and if you remain disciplined in doing them, you're brain should eventually recognize the steps and realize, "Oh! This means we're writing soon!" A routine will help you click into Writing Mode a lot easier.

Don't beat yourself up if it doesn't come back right away — chances are it'll take a bit of experimenting and trying out ideas before you find yourself slipping into a solid writing routine that works for you.

8) Revisit Your Outline (and accept that things might've changed)

Set aside some time to laze out on the couch with some snacks, and read your outline from start to finish. It's going to help remind you of all the hard work you’ve already put into your manuscript, how far you’ve come, and the fun things ahead. Get excited all over again for your book baby; rekindle the flame that had sparked within you when you first sat down with your shiny new idea.

Chances are you are going to like a lot of what you see in your outline, but not all of it. That's ok! It's completely normal to go back and realize that not all the pieces of your WIP puzzle are clicking into place. You might find plot holes, or ideas for scenes that sounded oh-so-good at the time, but now have you cringing and scratching your head.

(That may or may not have happened to me).

That’s the harsh truth of going on hiatus in the middle of a project. Things are bound to change. You aren’t the same writer you once were when you first started. But in all honesty, that's probably a good thing. You are looking at your outline with fresh eyes. You are bound to spot things you didn't notice before. Think of it as a blessing in disguise; you are uncovering the issues now before you've finished, and therefore have a better chance of rerouting yourself and setting yourself up for better success.

And that’s it! Jumping back into that novel after a break doesn’t have to be a terrifying ordeal. It can be fun, refreshing, and make you fall in love with writing all over again. It might take some time, but the harder you work at chipping away at the hiatus, the more accomplished you'll feel. And not only that, you can come out the other side a stronger writer with a revamped outline, some new ideas, and a killer ritual to really get your creativity flowing.

Now, get writing!

Be sure to tune in every Writerly Wednesday for new writer posts!

Come for the tips.

Stay for the awkward.

Until then,

May your inspiration never cease, and may your ink never smudge.

~Naomi.bee.tee

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wayhavenots · 3 years

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Stupid Cupid (1/3)

This was supposed to be for Valentine’s Day, but then I freaked out about my exam and went on hiatus before I could be satisfied with it.

Series Synopsis: A mysterious supernatural baby appears in Wayhaven. As Unit Bravo tries to return the child to its parents, Avery is forced to confront her views about love. (Nate x Avery)

Warning: A PG-13 innuendo from Bobby Marks, but otherwise this is pretty tame.

Thanks to @keybleminded and @pearlsandsteel for letting me consult with you many months ago re: an appropriate insult for Bobby. :)

Avery couldn’t put her finger on what was different as she said goodbye to Nate at the station. Something heavy in the air, like a storm threatening rain, or maybe a promise, as made to the flowers. It was hard to tell the difference, sometimes.

“This is me,” said Avery, jerking her thumb at the station over her shoulder. As if he didn’t know, after having walked her to the station every morning for months. But she would say anything to prolong the goodbye, if she was honest. “Don’t have too much fun without me, now,” she added.

“I assure you that you will be on my mind all day,” said Nate, flashing her a warm grin. Brown eyes alight with sudden inspiration, he plucked a red tulip from a nearby bush and gently tucked it behind her ear.

“It seems almost cruel, to place it beside such superior beauty,” he mused.

She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the gesture. “You know what’s cruel? Walking me all the way to the station, just to leave me for the whole day.”

Nate chuckled. “You’re quite right. There must be something I can do to make it up to you?”

Avery was sure that they had the same idea about how to answer that question, from the way his eyes dropped to her lips, but there was something almost too heavy in his gaze. So she quickly bent down to grab another flower from the same bush, and when she shot back up, she motioned for him to bend down. When he did, she tucked the flower in the elastic around his bun.

“Now, Morgan can make fun of both of us,” she teased.

“Do you mind it?” he asked genuinely.

“Yes, I very much mind how cute you are,” she said.

And, taking advantage of his being bent low, she kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose.

A smile blossomed across his face. And she was struck with something between appreciation and sheer terror, as she realized that he was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life, with the most beautiful heart, and that he had chosen her.

She might have kissed him again, if she hadn’t been distracted by the loud, “Hey! Detective Lin!” that came from behind her.

Avery sighed as Nate turned to smile at Douglas. She followed his gaze to the sullen-looking teenager.

“A pleasure to see you again, Officer Friedman,” said Nate warmly.

The boy shifted his weight between his feet, blue eyes flicking between the two. “There’s an emergency,” he said finally, looking at Avery. “It really requires your attention, Detective.”

She bit back the urge to say something along the lines of ‘It must have been something you couldn’t handle, Douglas, which really narrows it down,’ and instead contented herself with a sigh.

“Duty calls, apparently,” she said.

“Then I shouldn’t keep you occupied any longer,” said Nate, bending to press a soft kiss to her lips, which she stood on her tiptoes to receive. “Have a lovely day, Avery. And give my regards to your father, Officer.”

Avery blinked at the coffeemaker, which blinked back angrily, and then at Douglas. “This is your emergency?”

“You’re the only one who can fix this thing,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I could tell you needed rescuing from him. Agent Tall and Handsome,” he scoffed.

She shook her head. “Laughing and smiling, the universal signal of wanting to get away from someone. Keep it up, Douglas, you might just make detective one day.” She unplugged the machine and shoved off the backing to begin repairing, the motion swallowing up most of her annoyance until she felt only a pang of guilt. “Kid, I’m sorry. That was mean.”

“It’s okay,” he answered brightly. “I know what you’re doing. Tina and Verda said that you use sarcasm to push away the people you like before they can hurt you.”

“Yes, because they know so much about---” She stopped, pursing her lips at her sarcastic tone.

“No matter how hard you push, I’ll always be here for you,” he continued. “Day or night. Whatever you need.”

She rubbed her temple. “Douglas, I appreciate the...dedication, but you have to understand. Nate is my boyfriend.” At this, Douglas scoffed. “And I’m...”

She searched for an appropriate word. Somehow, “happy” didn’t seem good enough, big enough, for the hold he had on her, how integral he had become to her. Or to capture her fear of losing him.

She touched the flower tucked behind her ear, feeling herself brighten instantly at the memory.

“...happy,” she finished anyway.

And for a moment, she thought that the mournful wail that rang through the building might have been poor Douglas’s reaction. But when she looked up from the coffeemaker---finally repaired---she realized that he looked just as confused as she felt.

She darted into the lobby, where Tina was rocking a screaming baby. Beside Tina, Bobby Marks’s mouth was moving a mile a minute, though his words were swallowed up by the cries of the child before they ever reached her.

“Avery, thank God,” exclaimed Tina. “Would you please take care of this loud, whiny, wrinkle-faced brat whose diaper is full of you-know-what?"

“I’m really not the best with---”

Without waiting for her to finish, Tina disappeared into the break room with the baby, leaving Avery to handle Bobby.

She snickered, before taking an exaggerated sniff of his overpowering perfume. “Oh, she’s right, I think you need a change.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes at the insult, before turning to her with a smirk. “Oh, you have no problem taking care of me, do you, angel?” he purred.

Before Avery could retort, Douglas stepped between them, arms crossed and scrawny chest puffed out. “Don’t talk to her like that.”

“Kid, I got this,” said Avery, surprised. She’d never seen Douglas take any sort of initiative in his time at the station. “Go help Tina, please.”

He threw one last puppy dog glare at Bobby, before giving Avery an eager nod. “Got it, detective.”

Crying continued to ring out from the break room, and Avery felt a dull pain beginning in the center of her forehead. It was not helped by Bobby’s smug presence.

He nodded at the retreating form of Douglas, smirking. “Nice to have someone wrapped around your finger, isn’t it?”

Avery bristled at his tone of voice. As if he knew the feeling. As if she had been his Douglas not too long ago.

(And hadn’t she been? Clueless College Avery, chasing after him with hearts in her eyes?)

“I have nothing to tell you, Bobby,” she said, in what she hoped was a neutral tone of voice.

It wasn’t, judging by the way his smirk deepened. “Have you even begun investigating the baby?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, we’ve taken fingerprints and have linked it to two cold cases on Sesame Street.”

He lifted his recording device, which blinked red at her. Dammit. “I’m so glad you think this is a joking matter, detective.”

Off the record, she could hear Captain Sung sighing at her. If you’re gonna be a smartass, do it off the record, Lin. “Of course I don’t---”

“Do you have an ID on the kid?” interrupted Bobby, taking a step towards her. “Do you know who the parents are? Is he from Wayhaven? Why was he wandering around the woods alone? Do you have anything to say to the scared parents and children in your community---”

“Yes, actually, I would urge them not to listen to little boys who cry wolf,” she interrupted.

Bobby smirked. “That little boy was right once...and I’m not so little, as you know. Or do you need a refresher?”

She shuddered, ashamed to have ever been involved with him. “Look, we just got this case, Bobby. I don’t know what you’re expecting.”

He took another step towards her, until there was hardly any space between them. “No, you don’t, do you?” he murmured, voice suddenly silky smooth. “I’m expecting you to come to your senses and get back together with me.”

She froze, not sure she heard correctly. “What?”

“No quip for me? Is it because you want me back as much as I want you?”

“Knock it off,” snapped Avery, taking a step back. “Whatever game you’re playing, it’s over.”

“I’m serious, angel. I want you back.” He almost sounded sincere, too, though Avery wasn’t sure she could ever tell. “We’ve been dancing around this ever since we broke up. Our banter, the long looks, that agent you’re dating in a transparent attempt to make me jealous...”

"Never going to happen, Bobby.”

“Happened once,” he pointed out. “And remember how much we loved each other then?”

Avery crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I remember how much. You loved me enough to take advantage of my trust and steal my work."

He shrugged. “But you loved me. And angel...I’m ready to love you back.”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

And why the hell was he saying it now?

“Hey!” called Tina, marching in from the break room and directly between Avery and Bobby. The baby in her arms had quieted and was now sucking happily on his thumb. “If you’re done with your questions, get out. Nobody wants to talk to you, you no-good, low-life...” She jabbed him in the chest once, twice, and then stopped, eyes suddenly wide as they gazed into his. “You...you...”

She looked at Avery with a horrified expression. “I’m...not feeling well. I’m going to get some air, outside.”

She pushed the baby---now quiet---into Avery’s arms and rushed out the front doors. The baby gurgled happily and grabbed a fistful of Avery’s hair. The flower in her hair tumbled down, and he caught it in his free hand, gray eyes glowing silver as he crushed it in his palm, then returning to normal.

She looked up to see how much Bobby had seen, but she didn’t find that familiar gotcha in his eyes. Instead, she found an imitation of genuine warmth.

“Need some help there?” he asked, reaching a hand towards her in such an uncharacteristically kind move that she almost let him do it.

But she smacked his hand away in time. “Get out.”

To her surprise, he did---whistling---leaving the lobby empty except for her and Douglas, who’d followed Tina out of the break room.

Avery rubbed her temples. “Did something happen to Tina in there?”

Douglas frowned. “I don’t know. I hope not. She handled that baby so well. And Bobby, too. She’s just...amazing.” He sighed dreamily, eyes fixed on a window that Tina passed by every few seconds as she paced outside. “I never realized before...how amazing she is... Maybe I should check on her!”

Without waiting for feedback, he scrambled out the front doors, leaving Avery alone with the child waging a painful war on her hair. A cute kid, she had to admit. He was maybe six months old or so, with blond, flyaway hair, chubby cheeks, pale skin...and eyes which changed from gray to silver.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked.

In response, the child’s bottom lip quivered, and he gave an echoing cry.

“You said it,” she muttered, already digging her phone out of her pocket to call Nate.

#twc fanfic #twc #nate x detective #nate sewell #avery lin #the wayhaven chronicles

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wolfpawn · 3 years

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The Art of Survival, Chapter 20

SUMMARY - Robert, Fianna and the group head to the veterinary clinic while Fianna and Robert are still not speaking. But what difficulties will they meet there?

Warning - Threats of violence.

Chapter 20 of 22

Note - Having taken time to actually try and work on my old stories of late, I have actually finished this story, believe it or not. I am sorry for the 2.5-year hiatus.

Robert looked over at Fianna. Three times since she told him to fuck off did he try to speak to her and all three times, she repeated the sentiment and walked away.

Now it was time to go out into the rain and make their way to the clinic and the entire grouping was fully aware that Fianna had snapped at her own partner.

Frank eyed the pair warily. “No…” He whispered to Fianna.

“Funny business.” Fianna looked him in the face as she spoke. “I swore it. My personal business is not going to be involved in this. Robert and I have different objectives in this too so no issues there either.” “Good. If you pull this off, we will reward you in kind for your idea and your part.” “I just want to be let out to hunt and look after Dog.” She looked at the animal tied to her wrist. “Those are my objectives in this. You’re the boss. I am just the mouthy woman who acts tough but does actually follow most of the rules and doesn’t want trouble.”

Frank chuckled. “If that’s all it is, then that’s fine.”

Fianna frowned as she looked at him, startled to see that he seemed to be sincere. “That’s all.” She promised.

“Do you think the rain is heavy enough?”

Fianna was startled that he had asked her opinion. “I do. I think we are safe enough to go.” Frank said nothing more and prepared for what was to come.

* The rain was not as heavy as it had been before as they made their way through the complexes. Robert watched Fianna from a distance. Seeing her actively ignore him made him all the more anxious. Any time that he attempted to get close to her, she would find a way to get space between them again.

They made their way through the streets carefully. Thankfully, though more than once they could sense they were being watched, they did not come across anyone.

When she saw her old workplace, Fianna huffed slightly. She was used to walking to work all the time but nothing looked as it had back then now. Burnt out cars littered the streets, rubbish everywhere, even the occasional corpse but nothing immediately alarming for them.

Fianna found herself having to divide her attention between knowing where Robert was in case he attempted to speak to her and Jeremy, who she very much wanted to remain away from. At one stage, she was forced closer to Robert because Jeremy came too close to her and seemed to be trying to engineer a situation for such to happen. In that scenario, Robert was by far the safer option.

They went around the back of the veterinary clinic. The gate was long broken but the building, though it had dents and dings in it, seemed untouched. They got to the back door and the men pulled out their crowbars and did what they needed to do to remove the metal door blocking the door. After that, the wooden door was no issue for them and they went in.

A few were sceptical that Fianna had falsified the layout to them but to their shock, it was exactly as she stated. Though it was dark as the electricity was long turned off but they had torches to assist with such and Fianna told them where others were located inside. In the kennels, the stench of rotten flesh emanated. Fianna looked in and recalled in the back of her mind that there had been dogs left in for operations before the world went to hell. In older times, she would have been heartbroken to think of them suffering such a horrible prolonged death but empathy had long gone dry in her emotional well. Instead, she remembered that there was dog food that could be eaten, by both herself and Dog. She decided to grab what surgical equipment she could first and then grab what animal food they could carry after.

She went into the old locker room knowing there were some more bags in there that could help carry the load, ensuring she was alone as she did, knowing that it would not be on anyone else’s radar and worried that she could be assaulted in there if someone chose, specifically, Jeremy. When she was grabbing the bag she needed, she heard the door open.

“Fianna?” “I am not interested, Robert.” She growled and turned to face him. Her eyes widened as she looked at him. “Robert?” She whispered. “What...?”

“We need to hide, now.”

Fianna scoffed and was about to make a comment about not believing him when a voice called out through the abandoned practice.

“Fianna, where are you, you half-bred little bitch?” Jeremy called from the hallway.

Beside her, Dog snarled viciously.

Fianna placated the animal and immediately grabbed the lead she had just acquired for him in the supplies room tighter and urged him and Robert into a small cupboard that looked too thin to be a plausible hiding spot for two adults and a dog but which expanded once inside.

“How…?” “I worked here, remember,” Fianna whispered. “Dog, silence.”

The dog ceased growling and remained still and quiet.

There was the sound of people checking the locker room outside, slamming the wooden doors shut. “They left, the pricks.”

“If Jeremy hadn’t shouted, they’d still be here.”

Fianna and Robert remained silently praying that no one would check where they were but had their meagre weapons ready for if someone did.

“Those fuckers have the meds and bandages too, they’ll be too weighed down with them to go anywhere too quickly. Let’s search around for them.”

After that, they heard the door to the locker room close and silence fall on the practice.

“What are we going to do?” Robert asked.

Fianna’s eyes darted side to side as she thought to herself. They could not risk going around the practice as there was a high chance that someone would still be guarding it in case they were still there. Realising they were in for a long wait, she gave a small smile and sat down against the wall, her legs reaching the other side of the cupboard. “We wait.”

Robert slid down the wall and cursed his long legs which he was forced to bend awkwardly because of the confines of the small area. Dog, seeing the others getting comfortable, did his best to do the same, his head on Fianna’s lap as he did so.

“They will get bored soon and this building isn’t very flammable and the one part that is, the gas is shut off in, I checked and the oxygen tanks are empty so they can’t burn us out, so we just have to wait.” “What if they lock us in?” “Front of house opens from the inside, not the outside. We’ll be fine, we just need to be more patient than they are.” Fianna ceased whispering and got comfortable, knowing the wait would have to be a long one.

Beside her, Robert wanted to speak about their argument or the matter at hand but it was clear that they had to remain quiet for a time, so he did just that.

Once, in the time they waited, did there seem to be another check of the locker room. By then, Fianna and Robert had placed all the times in the cupboard to the front of it and used a piece of plyboard that was leaning against Fianna’s back to look like the back of it, in case anyone inspected further but no one checked it, not that Fianna was surprised, it looked far smaller than it was from the outside.

When it came to what Fianna suspected was the middle of the night, she moved away from the plyboard and moved the items out of the way to get out.

“Where are you going?” Robert demanded. She gave him a glare to state to remain silent and gently moved forward.

Every beat of her heart pounded in Fianna’s ears as she concentrated as best she could on seeing if there was any noise to be heard. She gently opened a few of the lockers, grabbing any and all clothing inside them. She also found a few bottles of water and fizzy drinks that had been left go stale and moved them, as quietly as she could to the door of the cupboard. Robert grabbed everything she brought and placed it inside. Fianna refused to use the flashlight so as not to alert anyone potentially in the hallway, so everything was slow and measured. Finally, she raided anything worth raiding and closed all the doors she had opened so to make nothing seem out of place and crawled back to the cupboard, slowly moving so as not to make anything bang loudly. Luckily, Robert used his flashlight from inside to ensure she could see where not to put a limb and cause items to fall. His finger was on the button to turn it off at a second’s notice if there was a noise from outside the room but none came and with the plywood against Fianna’s back once more, their hideout was secured again.

“What did you get?” “Some stuff for us to stay warm under, some bedding for Dog and some bottles to piss into.” “We won’t get to piss much if we have nothing to drink,” Robert pointed out.

Fianna pulled the bag that she had filled earlier over to herself. It was filled with bandages and such but it also had puppy and kitten milk in it. “It’ll taste like sweet piss but it is nutrient-rich and probably better than most of the fluids we have had to drink of late.” She gave him one.

Robert did not question if it still was drinkable, he opened it and took several gulps. It tasted sickly sweet and oddly thick but it was not as bad as he thought. He watched as Fianna took a few drinks then shared the rest with Dog, who she allowed drink from her cupped hand. “Fianna…” “Shh.” She stated, not suggesting that there was a particular reason to be quiet.

Unable to be sure they were safe, Robert did so but with the insistence in his mind that he would talk again as soon as it was safe.

* Both Robert and Fianna fell asleep intermittently through the next few hours. Neither knew what time it was. More than once, the sound of hailstones on the roof woke them. Fianna wished they knew if the building was empty once more because in such weather, even or especially in darkness, they would be at their safest but she was too worried to check. If there was someone left sheltering from the weather, they could not be sure they would make it. So they remained still.

For what seemed like two days, neither spoke much. She used the items from the supply cupboard to clean when Dog urinated or defecated and she and Robert used the bottles to urinate in. They ate the pet food and were grateful to have that much. The entire time, they rarely spoke.

“Do you think they are still here?”

Robert was shocked when Fianna spoke to him. “Hmm?” “Do you think it is safe to leave here now? I stopped guessing how long it has been. It seems like forever ago now. Going by our fluid intake, I think it’s been two days.”

“I guess,” Robert shrugged. “Guessing is not going to save us if we’re wrong.”

Robert could not argue that. “I think so.” “I will go out and check, you and Dog stay here.” Robert shook his head. “We should go together.” He clicked on the flashlight which was fading though still working as a result of very strict usage.

Seeing that if they needed to flee, they could do so faster together, she slowly moved the items out of the way again and crawled out, ensuring that the two bags they had of medicines and other supplies were safe as they did and using the warmest of the clothes to keep them dry after they left in case it was still raining, they slowly edged towards the locker room door, worried at what they would see on the other side. “Dog, check.” It had been a long time since the dog had used that command but when no growl came, she had to believe it was because he truly heard nothing.

The building seemed to be in darkness, as too was the world outside and rain drizzled down from what they could see. What added to the chance of no one keeping an eye on the building was the condensation that rose from Fianna’s mouth as she exhaled, telling her it was wet and cold, the least favoured combination of weather.

Fianna’s hand touched against the wall, feeling something wet and smelling like iron, telling her that it was most certainly blood. The silence through the building made her think that it truly was void of living beings other than herself, Robert and Dog. Braving the chance she was wrong and knowing they had a direct line to the door, she took her flashlight and clicked it on. At first, she jumped seeing the body in front of her but only because she was not ready for the sight in front of her.

Frank’s lifeless eyes stared blankly ahead with the contents of his skull on the floor next to him.

“What are the chances that Jeremy has ran back and pretended you and I did this?” Fianna asked.

Robert could only agree silently. “We can’t go back there.” “I don’t plan to.” “Then where will we go?” “Home.” She held Dog’s lead tight in her hand and turned to leave. “Come on.” “Fianna, we have to get past them to get there.” “They have to get down thirty flights of stairs to get to us and we know the spots around it we can hide in.” Robert was terrified of what would happen if they were found. “What about telling me to ‘fuck off’?” “I still want you to do that, but I want you alive when you do it,” She growled as she walked past him towards the back door.

Robert wanted to speak more but she already left. With one last glance at Frank, he walked out after her. “We came this way.” He indicated to the way they had arrived from.

“And if anyone is on watch for us, that is where they will be stationed. This way is quicker and avoids the vast majority of that route. It cuts a good quarter-mile off.” “Why didn’t you bring us that way first?” “Because I needed to keep this way clear in case they pulled a stunt.” Robert realised that for as much as he had learnt about Fianna in their time together, she never fully trusted even him and she was more resourceful than even he gave her credit for.

They made their way silently and with a lot of caution. When the high rise buildings came into view, both felt very anxious. “How will we do this?” Robert looked at her.

“Very fucking carefully.”

They made their way across the shrubbed area for as long as they could using the greenery for cover. When they got to the last area that was well hidden, the spot that Fianna had seen Toby in the week before, they looked out and gasped. Three men that had been part of the grouping that were loyal to Frank were dangling with ropes around their necks from a window ledge, three stories up.

“What the fuck…?”

Fianna ignored Robert’s comment and looked straight ahead. “If they are there, then there is a chance of someone being on a lower floor. I need to see how Tobey got across without being seen.” “They probably just didn’t notice because no one was looking. They don’t guard the bottom.”

Fianna could not argue his point. “We may need to just run for it.” “Fianna, has it ever occurred to you that perhaps we don’t know what’s been happening in the other tower since we were taken? That maybe we are not welcome there?”

“Yes, actually. But there are two factors we have to take in. One, we are returning with food and medical supplies, so that is in our favour.” “And two?”

“If they don’t want us alive, they’ll just shoot us. They won’t eat us.”

Robert had to admit, he rather just be killed than be killed and eaten. “I suppose.”

Fianna ensured the bag she was carrying was securely around her neck and Dog’s lead was tightly in her grasp. “Ready?”

Robert gripped his own bag and nodded.

#The Art of Survival #Chapter 20 #wolfpawn

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valdotpng · 7 years

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oh and before i go to bed, a quick update on my situation!!

(its in the tags)

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unordinary-analysis · 4 years

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Episode 156

I’m back guys :))

I’ll probably answer something from my inbox tomorrow, too

Honorable mentions:

I just want to know how they got John to go to the office. Like… not that he wouldn’t go, but were they just like ‘hey John, come to the office, we got stuff to talk to you about’? I guess, but… either that means John went back into the school right after beating up all of the royals and heard the announcement or they waited a day to talk to the kid that almost killed like three of the most powerful students… idk this isn’t that important lol

It’s nice to see the continuity of Keene’s love of eating apples

Nothing to talk about with that very last scene of Arlo and Isen because I mean they’re just visiting like probably Remi. Their conversation in the next episode, however… that’s gonna be juicy. ;)

Well, I’m excited. I can’t believe after how long it’s been, this is only the start of the second season…

God, I love this comic

John vs. the School

Okay so, we start off in the school office, and honestly, thank god. Like…? Hello teachers, your student is beating up other students so bad that he’s sending them to hospitals and you know who the kid is, which is proved by the fact that John’s in the office now, so why did you guys wait this long to bust him? Apparently, the answer is that the principal was okay with John bleating up a bunch of low-tiers, but draws the line when he turns his attention towards the royals? I mean, I know that the school obviously is going to prioritize the hierarchy, but for them to just look the other way when John was beating seemingly undeserving low-tiers.

Then the fact that John keeps playing the victim card… like? These people have known who you are, have known what you’ve done from the beginning. I really am in disbelief that John really thinks people are going to believe him, are going to side with him. You are not the victim here, John, and everyone knows it. You might have not deserved some of the things that have happened to you in the past few months, but John hasn’t been the victim in any situation for a long time.

So, I’m glad Vaughn called John out on that by saying, “Spin it however you want, John.” I like him. I’ve talked about him before, I know. There’s just something… off about his. Something suspicious in the way he talks about and acts with the authorities and the things he does sometimes lead me to believe he knows a lot more about, well, everything than he should be able to… I’m definitely keeping my eye on him. I have no doubt that He is going to be heavily involved with the endgame plot of UnOrdinary (the underlying story of UnOrdinary [ex. EMBER]). Anyway, I was really interested by the conversation after John leaves the office between Keene and Vaughn. Keene actually kind of calls out Vaughn in a way for what I was talking about earlier, his ignoring John when he beat up students, and, honestly, thank god. Keene has brain cells. I’m not exactly taking sides, because I always feel that Vaughn is very aware of what to do to get a certain outcome and I kind of want to see where he’s going with this, But it is nice to know that someone is able to think logically too. So, Keene says, “I understand you want to give every student a chance to think for themselves, but John’s behavior is getting increasingly concerning.” AND tHEN, Keene make my day by reminding Vaughn that John’s a late bloomer, and I always like reminders of things like that. But then Vaughn gets all vague again and says that that was why Wellston needs him, which honestly...?? I don’t get.

Anyway, I’m more excited about what happens next. Sorry if this was pretty vague and short (it was, I know)

John and Sera

The most anticipated and talked about thing during the hiatus, ugh. I’m so overwhelmed. We left off with Seraphina seeing Joker when he defeated Arlo and realizing it was her best friend who supposedly didn’t have any powers… yeah… must’ve been quite a shock, huh. Anyway, I was really surprised with the way that Uru-chan decided to handle this in this episode, the premiere of season two. John is clueless to what Sera knows and keeps trying to contact her, playing the same clueless, yet kind friend and Sera is just ignoring him.

What I was expecting was Sera to confront John pretty damn fast. I- I wasn’t really thinking she’d hide the fact that she knew who he was, what he was. But, she doesn’t even say anything to him when he’s standing right there. I’m- I’m just in shock I guess…

The previous buildup of season one that led up to the big reveal and the finale of the season lasted for basically half the season and it wasn’t even some short season. It was over 150 episodes… And I thought that there was no way that something big wasn’t going to happen because this was probably the most anticipated moment in the comic, and it was spectacular, but then… it just… loses its momentum, By avoiding any sudden blow ups in the story, the hype around the season one finale falls flat…

But, I’m thinking that that has to be intentional. I’ve mentioned this before many, many times, but Uru-chan is literally such a great storyteller and I refuse to believe that this happened for no reason. It’s obvious this kind of standstill in the comic between John’s and Seraphina’s characters is some sort of plot device, some way to transition into the next plotline between the two. I mean, if Seraphina had blown up, like I was expecting, their story would’ve been practically predictable and would end soon. Because, I’m positive that Seraphina doesn’t want to be friends with John anymore after learning his secret. We see clear evidence of that in this episode. The second she lets him know she knows, it’s over for the two of them, and we can’t be having that. They are the two main characters of UnOrdinary. Theirs has been the story that has been promoted as a main plot since the beginning. So: a big blow up would ruin John’s and Seraphina’s friendship. Which is why we don’t have it, or at least, not the instant she finds out. By pausing the story in a way, we are holding their relationship together, because once she lets him know, everything is going to change between them. But the pause, while it does hold the possibility that what I’ve described happening above will happen, it leaves some new windows open.

Maybe Sera is going to let him know she knows soon, but this prolonged standstill will undoubtedly bring her some new insight or knowledge or something that she didn’t have before. Maybe she’ll talk to Arlo first or idk. Something like what happened between her and Elaine at the end of the chapter. She’s getting more insight on what was really going on and as she learns more and more, her picture of the real John will get clearer and clearer, if this is what is going to happen.

Anyway, what this could mean, what any growth on this situation could mean is that Seraphina could decide to do a whole bunch of cool things :DD. Here are some of my favorites that I’m really enjoying thinking about:

Sera becoming obsessed with uncovering everything she can about john, kind of like Arlo/Isen did at the beginning of the comic, but much more insistent and erratic because she has to know how he did all this. John- he had managed to hide this from her, from mostly everyone for so long. And for one of the first times in her life, Sera hadn’t been one of the people in on the joke. She had been lied to and while she had already lost her powers, Sera couldn’t lose her mind, her wits. She was all she had left… and she couldn’t stand the thought that it wasn’t enough (kind of confusing but eh)

Plans an elaborate plot of her own to manipulate John into thinking she knows nothing, but she secretly is working on a way to unmask him and reveal his secret to the whole school. In this, Sera wouldn’t really know much about John’s background or else I think she’d be more cautious

Meets and talks with Cecile oh my god please I forgot about Cecile no please I actually need this

Gets her powers back somehow and doesn’t tell him and then one day boom showdown lol

So uh, yeah. There are some things that I would very much enjoy to see. Maybe. Kind of. If they were explained better maybe. ANyway, my point is that there is so many more possibilities for the plot and all because Sera didn’t blow up right after she learned John’s secret. Of course she could like next episode, and I talked about this, but even that would impact the story. Maybe we wouldn’t get some cool scenario like I was thinking, but it would develop the plot/Sera a bit more or at least give the reader time to reflect on how much Sera really was deceived.

#webtoon #unordinary #unordinary webtoon #uruchan #uru-chan #line webtoon #webcomic #john doe #seraphina #episode 156 #episode review #episode analysis #not my best #official

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whereismywarden · 4 years

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Alright, so this is difficult but here goes.

I decided to prolong my hiatus indefinitely. Taking a few days off has made me realize just how much of a drag running this blog has become lately. It feels more like a chore than a hobby and I think that’s because I’m just not that into Dragon Age anymore? (at least atm...) I’ve been feeling this way for a while now, I don’t get that spark anymore, the one that lifts you up after a long day of work. DA is just not doing it for me anymore.

So yeah, I’m taking a break and I honestly don’t really know when I’ll be back (tho I suspect I’ll be back because I always come back for some reason). Who knows, I might try again after the holidays? I know I want to do another writing highlights post at the end of the year because, in spite of everything, it has been a good year for me overall. But beyond that, I don’t really know. There are also stuff happening in my life right now that make me feel a bit down and I don’t know when things are going to get better for me tbh.

That being said, I will keep writing. I have a few ongoing longfics and they are still very dear to my heart so I’m not abandoning them. But since I won’t be posting any updates on Tumblr, I suggest you subscribe to the fics or the OCs you’re interested in. I will put the links to my AO3 series under a cut (did you know you can subscribe to series?)

Well, that’s about it. I’m sorry to disappoint you all. If anyone wants to keep in touch, I have a discord, just hmu and I’ll give it to you.

My AO3

Ana Surana (Surana x Alistair; Surana x Carver)

Main Worldstate

Second Chances AU: Main Story / Misc. Fics

Warden Nemea AU

Alwyn Hawke (Hawke x Anders; Hawke x Rylen)

Violette Surana (Inquisitor x Samson)

Fire at the Heart of the World

Kallian Tabris (Tabris x Alistair)

Daylen Amell

Asaara Adaar (Adaar x Cullen)

Shaelyn Mahariel (Mahariel x Bethany)

Violetta Hawke

Misc. Dragon Age One-Shots

#jenn speaks

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inimene-skates · 6 years

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Kodu [DenEst fanfiction]

Summary: Tallinn, the 1990s. The first foreigners come to Estonia that has recently freed itself from the Soviet terrors. Mathias Kohler becomes one of those daring people while seeking inspiration for his book. Thrilled to find out more about Estonian punk culture, he stumbles upon one of its particularly interesting subjects named Eduard. What follows next is a story about trust and freedom, revolution and philosophy, love and culture. A story about the land where they found kodu – a home.

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15094802

Notes: After my rather prolonged hiatus I finally came up with something decent. I believe this world needs more DenEst since this rarepair is absolutely stunning. All the events in the fic are a mere fruit of my imagination; however, it is based on the events that really took place in the 1990s: the times when the USSR dissolved and Estonia regained its independence. At the time, the punk culture in Estonia was particularly popular.

I have previously posted this fic in its original language (Russian) here: https://ficbook.net/readfic/6731059

The main inspiration of the work comes from a song of the famous Estonian singer Ott Lepland "Kodu", you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mbyOx-1AGNg

There’s a lot of Estonian slang used in this story so please refer to the notes for translations. ___________________ Ma ei oska vene keelt — I don't speak Russian Tõmba nahhui, idikas! — fuck off you idiot Ime lahti! — same as previous Oota — wait Putsi — Estonians would use this word to curse if/when something goes wrong Vend — dude Lilla (also: pede) — fag Keppi mind — fuck me Mida sa tegid? — what have you done? Mul on nii kahju — I am very sorry

Also, I tried to illustrate punk Eduard for you so take a look for a better reading experience! Enjoy!

_____________________________________

Mathias first saw him by Kadriorg. He was the one who the Dane caught his sight of from all six members of that frenziedly formed circle. Mathias could not be sure exactly why: perhaps, it was his hair with its part being tousled up and dyed unbelievably intense, almost acidic, pink, and making him look head up taller than the rest of the gang, even though, in reality, he appeared a rather short person. Perhaps, it was all a cocky look he gave the Dane with his mesmerizing eyes of cornflower color boldly fetched out by what seemed to be poorly blended blackish eye pencil. Or, perhaps, the reason could be the way he stood up front deeply inhaling the smoke of his self-made joint as Mathias approached him.

One way or another, Mathias knew for sure it is this fascinating man who would become the main focus of his next improvised interview.

“Tõmba nahhui, idikas!” One of the fellows standing straight behind the subject of Mathias’ attention and whose forehead was crossed over by an apparently fresh wound decided to move forward with an uncovered attack on a stranger. Mathias could not blame him. In Estonia, the land that tried to make it through the quite tough times, people like him, that is to say, people devoted to the punk culture could only hope for a better perception of their selves. That involved, for a kickoff, a better understanding of the origins and existence of their culture and, ideally, less or no condemnation of the bad habits that most of the punks had, according to the public.

In any case, Mathias knew he did not make any mistake by having chosen him. It seemed to him that the young Estonian himself was the leader of that offhand punk gang judging by how daringly he rebuffed his fellow gang mate with a clear and abrupt ‘oota!’. His frown vanished freeing space for a spark of interest. Hoary smoke disappeared into the soft blow of the April wind, not freezing yet not too warm. He was looking at Mathias and his astonishingly vibrant eyes revealed emotions rather opposite to the light dimming inside his body. To Mathias, it seemed like the tragic but, nevertheless, stunning fate of the Estonian folk itself was reflecting in the eyes of this young man.

“Ma ei oska vene keelt,” The Estonian breathed into the air thickened by the cigarette smoke and locked his eyes with the stranger. Mathias gave him a smile getting his message. In the scope of the latest events, he could not even ask for the opposite.

“Ma ei oska ka vene keelt.” The Dane felt that his Estonian language skills had just reached their limit. “English?”

Someone in this incredible company seemed to have started to be running out of patience. Someone else pocked the leader in his shoulder but he shrugged it off making it clear that the next poke would cost his fellow not a mere shrug but a punch. With the back of the hand. There was someone who smirked and spit on the gravel-inlaid road.

“No English, vend.” Here is where Mathias started losing his hope in the abyss of the language barrier. Up to the point when the Estonian himself restored it by giving it a chance to exist with a soft but clear, “Aber ich kann Deutsch sprechen.”

Mathias’ lips stretched in a wide smile of relief. He knew they would make it work from that time on.

***

Only two things in this world could Mathias not stand – being bound to one place and the lack of inspiration. The prior was pretty hard to live with yet easy to handle. At least, for the man that made a living from writing articles for an independent publisher, finding himself in different points in the world to seek unconditional and outstanding events was quite a regular thing – later on, Mathias used them as sources for the new pieces of word art. He could not say that such activity earned him a fortune though; it happened to be just enough to make ends meet. Not that Mathias longed for more. Most of his time he spent outside the walls of his tiny apartment in Aarhus and in times of inspiration did not care much for a place to sleep or the food offered to him but was thrilled by a single fact of being somewhere new and uncharted. In the end, his every little adventure ended up with a new article sent to the publisher for editing – and off he went again as he found himself at the starting point of a circle of his life.

The inspiration was a completely opposite problem. Especially in the recent times. Although the nineties, the times of drastic changes in the unstable world, gave practically endless room for seeking inspiration, Mathias could not find a single place to plant his seed of creation. Everyone around him was making too much noise about the fall of the iron curtain and the collapse of the entire (post) Soviet bloc. But the Dane found it absolutely boring.

This was how Mathias ended up in Estonia. While the rest of the First World was enjoying the comfort and coziness of their apartments reaping the benefits of the post-industrial society and shaking their heads in disapproval of what was going on beyond the borders of the former Land of the Soviets, Mathias had got enough of this worthless pleasure. The decision was made out of the blue. The Dane visited his office the same day letting the boss know with undoubted valor that he was going to chase an ultimate breakthrough in the art of periodical writing in liberated Estonia.

So here he was, standing in the middle of a paved street road having his light scarf wrapped around his neck and put on the variety of decent tourist equipment: a backpack full of snacks and items he did not even recall, a fresh t-shirt, a new coat and a map with a proud ‘Tallinn’ printed at its top. However, this is where the tourist image of the young Dane came to its limits. Tourism as such was the last thing he sought in this cold land not yet recovered from the terrors of the last fifty years.

Mathias knew exactly what he sought. He sought people that were deemed yet not threatening but rather isolated. The young men wearing high boots and creating colorful masterpieces, that could easily beat up the most professional barbers in the art of hair styling, out of their hair. The young ladies changing the ‘right’ and ‘socially acceptable’ garments for the ultra-short skirts and combing their hair up in the chaotic shape to the point when even the strongest storm could not bother their cocky looks. People that could spit on the ground with no back thinking and drink themselves until they dropped in public, not really caring for anything anyone could say and leaving their feelings and thoughts live within the community of their own where no outsider was ever welcome.

Mathias sought them, the people with no right to be spoken of. The free folk of free Estonia, the folk that the rest of the society called punk, somewhat with disgust, somewhat with generalization. Mathias could not find peace unless he told their story to the world, the story shaped by historical, social and political events that had no equivalent anywhere else on Earth.

And so he went along the streets of Tallinn gathering the tiny pieces of the Estonian punk culture found in the words and faces of those who cherished it and allowed the Dane to take a grasp of it as of their souls and cores. Just when Mathias thought his journey was complete, he met Eduard. And oh, he proved the Dane wrong.

***

“Over here, vend!” A loud voice made Mathias almost let go of his camera, not because of the shock, though. It was more because of how familiar the voice seemed to him, that mellow, somewhat leisurely but also daring voice speaking German with a particular Estonian accent. “Out there, you hear me, vend? Putsi...” said the voice once again and the Dane looked back facing its source. Literally.

It was not the first time he and Eduard met by the Viru Gates. At first, he did not even hope for The Estonian’s consent to come and keep his promise to Mathias. However, here he was. He came to the spot every single day, first bringing some of his fellow friends along who had absolutely no command of German and therefore could not grasp the idea of the talks Eduard and Mathias shared. Soon enough Eduard found the presence of the gang members rather useless and started coming to their ‘usual spot’ by himself. Frankly speaking, Mathias was thankful for the opportunity to have conversations without the presence of any third parties around.

The reason for such an attitude was not really the fact Eduard’s pals did not give Mathias the same inspiration as Eduard himself.

Eduard was not tall. In fact, his height made the Dane look down at him every time they spoke. He was shameless, too. Although his voice revealed no impudence, it did not take the credit off his shamelessness. He was cold as the ice on the Tallinn roads when winter decided to remind the country of its long presence with the snowfall: it did not last long having melted in the early spring sun but as the twilight fell the puddles got deeply frozen causing Eduard to swear in his own language, totally incomprehensive for the Dane yet warm and sweet as latte in the cafe next to the Freedom Square. He was as plain as the rest of one million people forming the population of Estonia. Being one of them but also incredibly different from them, he left no room for comparison, the reason being hidden somewhere in the depth of his cornflower eyes dimmed with black makeup. He was conditional like apartment blocks of Tallinn’s Uus Linn, the New Town, reflecting in the lenses of his glasses yet careless and vibrant like the medieval houses of Vanalinn, the Old Town. Eduard smelled of salt of the Gulf of Finland that washed Tallinn’s shores and sweetness of infamous ginger caramel walnuts spreading the sugary smell all over the Old Town.

Someone might say he was perfect. Flawless. At a time, he was a mere Estonian guy, though, piercing Mathias with his cocky Estonian look and dictating him the rules of this cold land. Mathias did not mind. That was the reason he came here, after all.

This time the way led them to the park bench next to the Orthodox church at Toompea hills where the Dane, slightly amused, was observing Eduard drink out of the beer bottle and catching glimpses of every single passerby. At a certain point, Mathias even thought that he himself became a target for a part of those glances. However, The Estonian could not care less.

“How come you speak such perfect German?” Mathias broke the silence but Eduard did not seem to mind at all.

“My full name is Eduard von Bock,” he said watching his favorite beverage splash behind the dark green glass.

“Does not sound Estonian at all.”

“I come from the Baltic Germans folk. Well, half of me does. Not many of ‘em decided to stay after the occupation. The major part was returned to Germany by the Nazis. Back to the land of fathers where they were said they belonged.” Eduard slipped the glasses back onto the nose bridge where they also belonged. “But not my- what’s the word?” he cut the phrase short trying to remember the correct German word, “Ancestors. We all speak German. To not, like, forget our family roots or something. I don’t give a fuck about the roots, frankly. At least I can speak to you now. More or less a reason to have learned it.”

All this time the Dane was silently scrubbing the pages of his rather old but nevertheless priceless notebook with the tip of the pen. This is how the notes taken in this book usually turned into profound articles. His job was not to judge – he was there to listen, to comprehend, to write things down, to live them though and then to share them with the world. Judgment, in its purest form, was the readers’ job.

“Dare to tell me what you’re writing there all the time?” wondered the Estonian.

“Your story,” the Dane smiled. He could not ignore the change of emotions from amusement to understanding in Eduard’s eyes that followed after Mathias’ line and the way his lips stretched in a smile.

“’Course. You told me before,” smirked the Estonian and decided to finish his drink off. “I’m gonna be popular, ha. Life well spent.”

“Well, for purposes of confidentiality and protection of your personality I’ll have to change your name. For your own good.”

Eduard slipped off the bench carefully looking around to make sure no regular folk or law enforcement officer was watching and threw the empty bottle into the nearest wall observing it break into hundreds of sparkling pieces. Once again, Mathias did not say a word. Eduard put his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket and, instead of taking back the seat next to the Dane, sat down straight at the cold sidewalk watching Mathias carefully. A sudden breakout of wind tousled his pink hair strands calming down as unexpectedly as it started blowing.

“You’re nice, vend,” he said.

“How so?”

“Well... you’re not from our folk but I guess you have our spirit.” Eduard started rummaging through the pockets of his clipped leather jacket apparently looking for a pack of cigarettes. “You don’t judge. You’re trying to understand us. Usually, all we’ve got is people spitting in our faces.”

“You spit back at them, though,” said the Dane pursuing no purpose of insulting him with those words or point at his imperfections.

“People are weird creatures,” Eduard replied finally feeling a thin body of a cigarette between his fingers and impatiently lighting it on. “They are living in this crap for decades and putting up with shit those idiots are doing to Estonia but can’t stand a view of someone who simply does not look like them. This is why I spit in their faces. Not because they wanna piss off my pink hair or something. I don’t give a fuck. I spit back because they don’t care about the freedom we gave them. Where have they been when we were trying to reach out for the world by transmitting signals via Finland? When we were crafting the self-made transmitters of mercury thermometers in order to receive the broadcasts from Helsinki and spread the freedom of speech? When we were breaking off the Curtain? Where have they all been? Ha, they simply tightened their grip on us as their own opportunity. They saw hope in us. The revolution. We are the cause of the first Song Festival of the Free Land. But now they seem to have forgotten this. Now they are all not worth an old song. This is why I spit in their faces.”

His words forever imprinted in the broad handwriting of the Dane on the pages of his slightly worn out notebook got carried away by the rising wind. Mathias could see with the corner of his eye that Eduard frowned attempting to keep the cigarette lit.

“Jeez, I’m starving. You, vend?” The Dane sarcastically mimicked Eduard with his own nickname watching the Estonian sit on the freezing cold stones of the paved road and have absolutely no worries for the fate of his balls. Mathias genuinely thought that today’s meeting with this shameless young Estonian had come to its end and Eduard would refer to other plans to justify the unwillingness to follow the Dane. However, he did not expect a smile that appeared on the Estonian’s face at that moment.

“Is it on you, then?” he breathed raising up from the sidewalk and Mathias watched his German words disappear into the thin air.

“If you promise to meet me tomorrow at the same spot.”

There was a moment of silence, and Eduard allowed himself to finish his cigarette and give Mathias his verdict.

“Where are you staying?” asked Eduard suddenly giving Mathias an impression that he tried to escape giving promises.

“Anywhere,” he said shrugging. “I don’t need much.”

“That’s dope,” followed the reply and Eduard put the cigarette up by stepping on it. “From now on you’re staying at our condo. I’ve got a room all by myself. If you promise to buy food for everyone, I’m not gonna charge you a kroon for rent.”

Mathias beamed.

***

“Aight vend, here are my boys. Guys,” this time Eduard spoke Estonian addressing his young fellows, “This is Mathias. He’s with me.”

“Here guys, I brought a new dick to stick in my asshole tonight.” Someone in the corner of a great living room made himself heard and the room burst with laughter. Eduard rolled his eyes letting the confused Dane know with the gesture that there was nothing to pay attention to.

“Anyway, from right to left. This is Taavi, he’s joined us recently. We sorta keep an eye on him.” The Estonian pointed at the youngest, to Mathias’ thought, dweller of this spacious flat, and he welcomed the guest with his middle finger. “This,” Eduard stepped over what seemed to be a lifeless body whose soul had definitely departed this cruel world, “Is Erkki. Don’t bother him, he’s a busy man.”

The Dane gave the body whose name had just been identified as Erkki a suspicious look.

“And... what’s so important that he’s doing?”

“He’s thinking of the fate of the Estonian folk,” Eduard concluded seriously shrugging his jacket off and moving on to the next members of his gang. “This is Aare. He got us this condo so his rent share is less than the others’. Here we have Jürgen. He’s got a brain bro, nice working brain. It only works when he’s sober, though. And finally, this is Urmas. Urmas lives for the sake of two things – songs and girls.”

Mathias really had to take his time to get used to the new environment as well as the new housemates who he intended to spend quite some time living with. In reality, there was something more to this excitement he felt in his chest. He was thrilled to realize that the inspiration he was longing for had finally found him here, in the very heart of the punk community that resembled a family more than any other company he had ever seen.

Mathias simply could not believe his own happiness. One shall not lose himself in a dream. One cannot come to the new county, meet such a precious person there in a few days of time and, to sum everything up, blindly trust this person with his own life by accepting the very first offer to come and stay with him and the entire gang of people with the indefinite background. As much as he wanted to, Mathias knew nothing about them. He did not know their reasons to live for, the air they breathed, the sources of their inspiration and ideas or the things that made their lives worth living. Here was where experience came to place. The experience that had the power to distinguish dreams from reality.

Mathias spent the entire night writing. He wrote about the flags decorating the walls, the posters revealing the lines that were banned from use not that long ago. He wrote about the music he could not perceive by himself and sought his new neighbors’ help in order to understand the solid meaning of the lyrics. Mathias wrote about him, about this Estonian sitting on the floor with a recently lit cigarette and his eyes closed in tiredness and a simple wish to face his thoughts. He wrote about Eduard who reached out for the Dane trusting him back, just like Mathias trusted him once, letting him into his little personal world as well as the enormous world beyond the boundaries of his soul. He wrote about his cornflower eyes, his unbelievably calm yet highly inflammable spirit that made Mathias’ heart skip a beat from time to time.

“What are you writing about now?” Eduard spoke and his dense voice reminded the Dane of the cigarette smoke he let through his fingers.

“Urmas lives for the sake of two things – songs and girls,” smiled Mathias and the Estonian gave him a skeptical look.

“Oh yeah, that’s super important. Almost everyone in this room likes girls, you know.”

“Almost?” the Dane asked him back noticing the unease that went through the Estonian’s body as he inhaled the bitter smoke in his lungs particularly deeply.

“You know what they call me? Lilla,” said Eduard avoiding the eye contact. “It actually means ‘violet’, like, a color, you got me? But that’s not really the point here, vend. They use it to insult someone who doesn’t like girls. It means ‘a fag’.”

There was a certain degree of tension settling down in the air after he became silent. At that very moment, Mathias did not feel like joking anymore. Instead, this feeling was replaced by chilling shiver going down his spine, the feeling that usually possessed his body in times of anticipation or shock. The Dane could not say for sure which one of the two feelings prevailed. However, he immediately drew a picture of what could happen in the streets of post-Soviet Tallinn to someone who Estonians called lilla. Someone who could be prosecuted for being lilla not that long ago, if not worse.

“Listen, I can omit this if it makes things better–”

Eduard immediately frowned his blonde eyebrows letting the smoke out of his chest.

“Yea, sure, go ahead if you wanna rid me of my dignity! Not for toffee. I let you in my life, I let you tell my story so do me a favor and tell it right!”There was a sort of anger in his voice but Mathias had no doubt it had nothing to do with the Dane himself but rather with the experience Eduard had faced in a lifetime. “I am not ashamed of who I am. I don’t give a fuck about what those assholes say and what meaning they give to this lilla word. I don’t give a fuck if they’re gonna find me, stab me in the chest or break my ribs. I won’t run. Because you cannot escape from someone who is everywhere. You cannot escape from yourself. It makes no sense! I am not afraid. I am who I am and I’m not alone. Right now we have to hide from the idiots in the streets but I swear to you, the day will come and we will let ourselves be heard. The revolution is not over yet, vend. We are still fighting and we will not stop until we get what we want or die trying.”

Eduard put up his unfinished cigarette leaving it in the common ashtray and stood up to start walking towards his room. He did not even give a chance for the Dane’s disarray to settle by giving him a brief line: “Are you coming or what?” Mathias followed him right away grabbing his stuff from the floor and vanishing behind the door to Eduard’s room until next morning.

***

In the next few days, Mathias’ good old notebook got filled in with notes to the cover. He even managed to find the ways to communicate with the rest of Eduard’s second family (not without his help, of course) whose thoughts and memories he also imprinted in the paper. Mathias tried to grasp every single little moment, every detail of their lives as well as Eduard’s brave and somewhat wise thoughts that came out of nowhere from time to time. Once it happened to him after the Estonian offer him a self-made joint.

“Do you want to die healthy or happy?” asked Eduard raising his eyebrows at Mathias’ refusal to his offer and explanation that smoking does no good.

“You think that dying both happy and healthy is not an option?” he parried. Eduard rolled his eyes inhaling the smoke and letting it out of his deeply smoked lungs.

“How do you even see this, ha? I know no one who would die because he had too much health. We all die. Someone dies from aging, others from injuries or accidents but anyway, everyone dies from an inability to handle certain effects. Everybody is given a particular amount of energy upon birth. Since that moment, we die every day because our bodies slowly give up the energy we were given. And then it gets replaced by exhaustion and tiredness. You simply haven’t felt it yet. But go out there and find, let’s say, a fifty-year-old dude. Ask him a question. Ask him out for a drink tonight and he will refuse. Because it is you who can drink all night long and then wake up at seven in the morning and go waste your life in the office or whatever like nothing happened the night before. He can’t do the same anymore because his body has let go of too much energy in all the years. One day we all come to this thought and then there’s nothing we can do. And so we let go. And as you see it has nothing to do with smoking.”

Mathias gave him a sly smirk but in his mind, he could not help but agree with the fact Eduard’s words did not lack reasoning.

“You’re way too smart for your 22, aren’t you?”

“It’s as easy as pie, vend,” the Estonian shrugged. “Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about that. There’s nothing too smart about it. It’s just who we are.”

Sometimes Eduard got lost somewhere in town having left Mathias his set of keys to not let the Dane find himself trapped in the apartment (and to allow him to get outside and do some grocery shopping just as agreed). The other day the Estonian would develop certain melancholy which only he could perceive and express by the unwillingness to leave the bed listening to J.M.K.E. and lighting up self-made joints one by one all day long. Mathias just let it be. Very soon both of them started to realize that their lives would have never taken any other direction. The nights they spent being half the time among the other gang members, half the time with each other made their souls collide to the point when they no longer felt that the usual night routine satisfied them both.

That night Eduard made sure the door to his room was locked. He simply did not want a single soul to distract him from the lips that tasted too sweet to Eduard’s thinking. He was the one to take this first step towards being even closer than before and, having made sure the Dane was eagerly reciprocating his insistent, almost demanding kiss, allowed the impossible to happen. The Estonian let him come too close, break through the layers of smeared makeup, pink hair and cocky words to reveal a vulnerable soul in his core. He let the Dane know him as deeply as no one had ever dared to even try to get to know him before.

After all, there was no difference between their bodies rushing together, willing to feel each other’s skin. Eduard lay open and naked in front of Mathias and the Dane contemplated his chest surge heavily, fingers stroking down the ribs, his skin covering some decent muscles underneath, his bluish veins revealing themselves as the Estonian tightened his grip on the Dane’s shoulders, their hips tenderly colliding and making their desires look so obvious. Mathias reached out for his neck caressing it with endless kisses and let Eduard’s hands touch the Dane’s body wherever he wanted. And oh he did just that. He was barely breathing, brushing his fingers against Mathias’ back in slow, soothing movements that trailed down to his hips, found the way to his chest and finally rested on his warm neck. All the differences between them did not matter anymore. There were no boundaries, no history, no culture or politics – anything that would draw a fine line between people in the outside world. In Eduard’s world behind the locked door there was nothing that would remind either of them of the different lives they used to live, though.

So Eduard allowed Mathias to get even deeper under his skin. He allowed the Dane to lock his arms around his body causing Eduard to let out a choked gasp and words whose meaning remained a mystery for Mathias. He allowed him to watch the Estonian arch his spine, to tangle his fingers in Eduard’s hair, to gently put their arousals together shifting the fingers in a soft yet intense touch. A whispering ‘keppi mind’ escaped into the distance between their lips filled with the thick, moist, almost burning hot air and Eduard squeezed Mathias’ waist with his legs letting him in, letting him come closer, letting him thrust into his body, making his insides burn. As they were melting together, the Estonian forgot his own name; he was calling Mathias by his instead for the first time since the very moment they saw each other by Kadriorg. That moment was enough for him to realize that perhaps they would not be a one night stand – and so he got lost in a long, open-mouthed, moist kiss as his body trembled in sweet relief...

As soon as the morning came, Mathias made himself clear about their fate. For the reasons that left the Estonian completely flabbergasted and set him off track, the Dane announced his departure later this evening. His job in Estonia was done and he did not see any other reasons to stay there any longer. At least, this was what Mathias said. He did not even give a single chance to either of them to let things sink in leaving Eduard alone with his bare soul hanging out of his body, shattered and broken into million pieces.

Of course, that was enough for Eduard to throw Mathias out of the condo together with all the stuff he brought in. He did not really incline to any mercy, say any last words or threat him with serious consequences should Mathias ever decide to come back. The Estonian simply did not see any merit in this. Was there any merit in this situation at all?

“Mida sa tegid?” was the only thought that rushed through his mind as Eduard was falling into an unconscious sleep. The regret filled his heart – the regret of having approached the Dane in the first place. If only he had known.

***

“East or West, home is best,” said the infamous expression. Some people praise it as the absolute truth. Others are always ready to challenge its meaning. One way or another, everyone perceives it in their own unique way.

For some of us, home is a place where we first saw the light of day. Indeed, those of us who find such place home contribute to its everyday life in order to make it at least slightly better for themselves as well as the others. For some of us, though, place of birth has nothing to do with home. It is a place that sets such people at a starting line of a lifetime creating numerous challenges and obstacles that make them wonder whether they are actually calling a right place a home. At that point, they wander along in their thoughts seeking a home where their hearts would settle.

Mathias had been running away his entire life. He fled each and every place that bore a threat to him – a threat of becoming attached to somewhere or losing himself. That night, while walking down the streets of the Estonian capital the Dane raised his head to look up at the roofs of two towers forming Viru Gates. Their usual spot. The spot where he and Eduard used to meet. The place that divided the present and the past, split the buildings of the New and the Old Towns as well as two young souls.

“What am I really doing here?” he was thinking. Lonely, lost, having his heart left somewhere in Kadriorg on a cloudy day in April. Standing in the country that used to be foreign to him but seemed to have become something so much more in the end.

Mathias could not tear his glance off the place where the Estonian, whose essence itself smelled of smoke and sweet caramel, waited for him every day the same hour. The paved road broadened in front of him in its medieval glory. The rows of colorful, almost toy-like houses framed the road leading to the place where the Town Hall Square tower proudly winded to the sky. Tiredness and weird thoughts occupied the Dane’s mind and he went through the Viru Gates once again, facing the void of a very familiar spot.

That night he seemed to have lost his ferry ticket to Helsinki, deliberately or accidentally, for he urged to reunite with the light of the cornflower eyes dimmed with the shadows of black makeup, the scent of the hair freshly dyed acidic pink and warmth of the spirit Mathias would never trade for anything in the world.

“Mul on nii kahju,” he whispered as Eduard surrounded him by tightening embrace of his shivering arms.

“Lilla.” That single word was everything the Estonian could say in return, too happy for the sentimental greeting. Mathias did not mind. After all, it was the Eduard he met by Kadriorg. Eduard he never wanted to lose anymore.

***

“Everyone, listen up! I’ve got my contact with the publishing! It means that my book will be translated and printed!” The Dane came back to the apartment on the seventh heaven. The loud cheers followed the announcement, someone in the familiar corner even left out a cheeky comment about all the work Mathias had to do to earn some decent sex that night. That, in return, was followed by a sound ‘ime lahti’ coming from one of the bedrooms revealing Eduard leaning on the door frame and smiling widely.

Surely, Eduard had other ways to express his happiness with the news: that is to give Mathias a particularly deep kiss – behind the closed doors of his room, of course.

“So, does it mean you came up with a final title after all?” Eduard asked exhaling some bitter smoke from a cigarette he reached out for after their lips parted.

“Guess so.”

“Dare to tell me what it is then?”

“Kodu. Home,” replied Mathias. “’Cause this story is about you, about me, about every one of us. About people of this small imperfect land where revolution is still raging. But we’re gonna fight through it, for our home, for our happiness... don’t you think so?”

Eduard just smiled.

#denest #aph denest #aph denmark #aph estonia #rarepair #eduard is punk af #mathias has a thing for a punk boi #the 1990s #punks #eesti #hetalia #aph fanfiction

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