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e350tb · 3 years

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The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Four)

Four

A trying day comes to an end.

So what happened to Philip Wittelsbane?

The Wittelsbanes have always maintained that Philip and John were set upon by a roving band of ‘Indian Braves’ - their words. That John fought bravely, but Philip’s head was ‘cleaved in twain’ by a tomahawk, and that he had no recourse but to abandon his brother. That was, until recently, the generally accepted story. Except in the 1970s, historians actually bothered to ask the Pequot people what their histories said, and they were adamant that Philip could not have been killed by them.

Assuming the oral history of the Pequot is correct, and given the near total lack of any settler-Pequot contact in Gravesfield at this time in written record, we can safely assume that, what actually happened?

Another theory is that John murdered Philip, or that they fought a duel and that John emerged the victor. That’s currently the most likely theory, although the Wittelsbanes fervently deny it, but it can’t be confirmed. Archeologists have never found any human remains that might have belonged to Philip, and there’s been a few digs over the years, mostly related to the Battle of Gravesfield. Of course, the body could have been moved or dumped in the river - we don’t know.

There’s a theory that Philip lived a little longer and died of disease; but if so, why does he disappear from the record? And why would Thomas Goodfaith Masterson write that John and Philip went into the woods, and only John came back?

Then there’s the fun theory, which I love, but which is almost certainly false; the theory that the Earth opened up and Beezlebub dragged Philip to hell for his congress with witches. That theory started being popular in the late 1760s, when John’s descendent, Matlock Wittlesbane, donated Philip’s writings to the public library, but it had been suspected by Gravesfield residents as early as the 1660s. Often this story includes a nice little fight between John and Philip, which gets framed as a great battle between good and evil, and ends with a blood-covered John arriving back home, falling into Thomas’ embrace, and proclaiming; “It is done! By the Lord, it is done!”

Demons, fights, blood, this story has everything! And it’s almost certainly false.

So what is the truth? The answer might be in the personal journal of John Wittlesbane, which we know exists, but is in the care of the Wittelsbane estate, and they’ve never let anybody look at it. They say it is a private, family document.

Which doesn’t help dissuade us from the whole ‘murder’ hypothesis.

Now I want to have some time for discussion, so we’ll close the lecture here. I want to raise a question for you; apart from what I’ve mentioned, what other possible explanations are there for Philip’s disappearance?

....

The living arrangements were tight, but not uncomfortable.

Certainly, the pair of air beds were close, but there was enough of a gap between them (and the couch) that there wasn’t a lack of personal space. A pair of pillows and a few old, warm blankets completed the ensemble; Camila had even fished out an old plush bunny from the bottom of the closet.

Camila, who had just finished pumping the pair of beds, sat on the couch, mopping her brow.

“It’s always harder than it looks,” she muttered.

Amity rubbed her arm, looking a little embarrassed.

“You didn’t have to do this, Ms. Noceda,” she muttered.

Camila smiled.

“You’re a guest,” she replied. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, Amity, this is the Castello Noceda we’re talking about!” exclaimed Luz. “We’ve gotta keep our AirBnB rating up!”

“...Air B and what?”

The door opened; Vee walked in, carrying a fluffy red blanket and an extra pillow under her arm.

“So, uh, since you’ll be wanting your room back and all…” she said.

“Vee, no!” exclaimed Luz. “It’s okay, you can stay up… wait, hold on, don’t I have a bunk bed?”

She glanced at the two air beds in confusion.

“I thought you’d want to keep your friend company,” Camila said, shrugging. “I mean, it is her first night in a strange place.”

Luz smiled.

“Thanks, mami,” she said, giving her mother a hug. “You always think of these things.”

Camila smiled, but then frowned.

“We still need to talk tomorrow,” she said.

Luz sighed and bowed her head.

“I know,” she replied.

“And not just about the Boiling Isles,” added Camila. “Vee’s been going to school in your place. We need to work out how she can keep going now that you’re back.”

Luz tilted her head.

“Does she… want to?”

“Of course!” replied Vee. “I wanna see my friends every day, you know?”

Luz looked at her like she’d grown an extra head.

“...friends?”

She swallowed.

“Yeah, we’ll talk about that tomorrow,” she said. “I just…”

She yawned loudly.

“...today took a lot outta me,” she muttered.

“Cariño, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the last few hours,” sighed Camila. “I think we all need to get some sleep.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Vee, goodnight Amity.” She turned to her daughter. “Goodnight, Luz. I am so glad you’re back.”

“I…”

Luz’ eyes shot down to the floor.

“Me too, mami.”

Camila flicked off the light, and she and Vee departed. Luz sighed, collapsing onto the air bed - then she squealed a little as she bounced.

“Forgot how bouncy these things are,” she muttered.

She turned on her side. Amity lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her expression was hard to read.

“Amity?”

“I miss Ghost,” sighed Amity.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know where she went,” she added. “I guess I was just so focused on helping you that I forgot to look out for her. Look at me; top student and I can’t even look after my Palisman.”

“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay,” Luz replied. “She’s probably just waiting for you in your room. Or maybe using Edric as a scratching post again.”

Amity snorted.

“Honestly, I kind of hope she stays away from there,” she admitted. “I don’t think my parents are going to be in a particularly good mood at the moment.”

Luz frowned. “They wouldn’t hurt Ghost, would they? I mean, they’re strict but they’re not-”

Amity turned, looking her in the eyes, and Luz trailed off.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” she said.

“I… honestly I’d rather not talk about it,” sighed Amity.

Luz nodded.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. The rain still pattered on the window - it was starting to die down now, and the wind had almost stopped completely.

“Belos has Eda, doesn’t he?” asked Luz. “And King?”

Amity nodded.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything…”

“Amity, I’m not gonna be mad because you couldn’t stop Emperor Belos,” said Luz. “He’s Emperor Belos. You don’t get to be an evil emperor without getting really good at magic and junk.”

She lay on her back, scratching her chin.

“Or maybe you do? I dunno, I didn’t really listen to that history class on Napoleon.”

“Napole-who?”

“Human thing.”

She sighed.

“We’re gonna get through this,” she said. “For Eda, and for King, and for Lilith and Raine and… I dunno, whoever Belos has messed with. And then…”

She ran a hand through her hair.

“...then maybe I can get mom to understand… everything,” she said.

“Well, you’ve got a better chance than with my parents,” said Amity.

“I dunno, it’s still… I shouldn’t be this scared, you know?” Luz shrugged. “She’s my mom. I love her. So why does the thought of actually talking to her make me so anxious?”

Amity shrugged.

“Families are hard.”

Luz snorted, turning back onto her side.

“At least I’ve still got you,” she said.

Amity’s face turned red, and she rubbed the back of her hair.

“I’m not that great,” she replied. “Eda or King would’ve been better.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short!” said Luz. “And besides…”

She blushed, smiling.

“...King doesn’t have pretty eyes like yours.”

Amity laughed, her face becoming redder still.

“Hey, uh, they’re, uh, they’re not as pretty as yours…”

The two snorted and broke into giggles.

Outside, the rain stopped completely, and the world was still. Tomorrow awaited, with all it’s myriad uncertainties, but for now, they had each other.

That was enough.

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #a blight on gravesfield #writing #fanfiction #lumity

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spectralscathath · 3 years

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do robyn :3c:

Send me a RWBY character and I’ll tell you:

Robyn Hill

My top three ships for the character

Clover/Robyn (Lucky Shot is my OTP), Qrow/Robyn (Jailbyrds is a spite ship and I’ll admit it), Roman/Robyn (Rob the Rich, if only for the name)

My three least favorite ships for the character

Robyn/any of the other Happy Huntresses, Robyn/Winter (I remember that fucking ‘snowbyrd’ discourse you bastards), Robyn/Qrow (when I remove the spite goggles I don’t like this at all.)

My biggest criticism for the character

you got 10 minutes? 20? Maybe 30? Buckle up fuckos. I got some points to make and you’re gonna listen.

1. Robyn Hill is wasted potential

Robyn’s first appearance was one of my favourite scenes of Vol7. No joke! She was witty, interesting, had an excellent banter with Clover, deliberately stood down from a fight she couldn’t win, though she seemed eager for a challenge, showed some cunning, and looked like she was having fun.

And then pretty much all of that got ignored. Robyn was set up as a good, smart leader with a cocky swagger, history with Clover, a deceptively cunning streak, and a calm, level-headed attitude. What Robyn was from then on was Angry Shouty Hothead Picks Fights She Can’t Win. She turned into someone impulsive, short-sighted, bullheaded, and focused only on fighting. 70% of Robyn’s lines are about violence and how she likes violence and how she wants to fight with VIOLENCE. The other 30% are, incidentally, ‘i’m so smart and understanding and kind, I’m gonna force people to undergo a lie detector test via peer pressure and ultimatums but it’s actually tragic that no one wants to be my friend because of my semblance. Poor me.

And that was not what I was expecting. That is not what was foreshadowed. And compared to what the potential could have been, a good allusion rich with depth, a setting that could ahve been interesting if it wasn’t so rushed, how she could have been a player on the board, filled so many possible roles, and instead she was a walking ‘Ironwood bad’ mouthpiece that didn’t actually do anything (and has never done well in a fight, which is RWBY’s staple). What a waste.

2. Robyn Hill actively makes things worse and gets no comeuppance

Robyn Hill makes situations worse. First of all, she steals supplies from Ironwood (and then doesn’t use them???? what the fuck????), which puts Ironwood under stress, which then leads to Ruby being Miss Unhelpful (but that’s a rant for another day). Robyn then gets classified info from Blake and Yang who, may I remind you, never met her. She could have been a spy! But no, Blake just has a gut feeling (because the script said so).

Robyn then calls James out on this, which later leads to ‘how did Robyn know about the global communications tower’, which means the fighting happens in the office, everyone stresses, Salem provides one of the few redeeming scenes in the show post-Ironwatts fight (it all went downhill from there, even more then it already was). Robyn didn’t explicitly cause this but she sure as fuck had a hand in it.

Then you have fucking. Clover’s death. Yes, Robyn, agreeing with the serial killer who just tried to murder you and starting a fight in an enclosed space when you’re a ranged fighter vs your melee combatant ex-boyfriend is absolutely the smart thing to do. And then, for a moment, Qrow and Clover nearly sort things out, and fucking Robyn jumps in again. And then, what did she do? She got knocked out immediately. Yikes. Ladies and gentlemen, our ‘Resident Strong Female Character’. But because she did all this, she pretty much guaranteed first: Tyrian escaped. Secondly: Clover died.

And yeah, Robyn. Just because Qrow didn’t personally shove that blade through Clover’s chest, he still worked with The Serial Killer Who Kills People to help. So yeah, Robyn, that does count as some sort of murder. Or at least, accomplice to murder. You’re also vaguely adjacent to it, so don’t get all ‘but Qrow’s innocent’.

It’s the same problem with team RWBY. They do terrible things, they whine about how hard it is, and all is forgiven cause they’re cute sad girls. There’s no comeuppance. There’s no growth. It’s just the script going ‘this character is right because we said so, so now we’re gonna do our best approximation of if a pretzal and a contortionist had an unholy boneless lovechild and bend the plot so the characters win anyway.’

3. Robyn Hill is a static character

This is gonna sound weird with this lil header but Robyn actually had an arc in vol7! She had an arc that was fairly basic, she went from ‘I don’t trust Ironwood and want to know what’s going on’ to ‘I am actively ruining Ironwood’s goals’ and finally settled on ‘I know what’s going on, Ironwood is worth supporting, and I do trust him.’ It was a simple arc, but it didn’t need to be anything more then that.

Then in the span of about 1 minute all her actual development was reversed and she ran backwards to her original stance of ‘Ironwood bad’. We literally saw her devleopment walk backwards, and there it stayed. She spent all of vol8 as an empty voicebox that occasionally pipped out ‘Qrow’s my friend’ and was devoid of any personality. She didn’t have much beforehand that wasn’t fairly generic, so it’s almost impressive.

The problem is that static characters take a lot of work to avoid being boring characters. A lot of rwby just has these problems in general, character development is either ignored, skipped over, or given to the wrong characters, but in Robyn’s case it’s actively annoying because she had some development, and then she ignored all of that to go back to being ‘ironwood bad’ with a side of ‘Qrow good’ because we needed to be reminded of that after he got an innocent man killed.

4. Robyn Hill is an unnecessary character

Why are you here. What do you do. Robyn was stated to be a character meant to act in opposition to Ironwood, to put him under stress like every other fucking character in this series. This was ‘confirmed’ by Eddy Rivas, which means zero because at some point the mentally deranged Weazel Ball that masquerades as the crwby writing team’s collective braincell will rapidly and suddenly change direction, causing massive retcons and plotholes in their moth-eaten threadbare dishtowel they dare to call ‘lore’, and we will have a different excuse for this waste of a good VA.

Here’s the thing tho: Robyn as ‘opposition for Ironwood’ isn’t fucking special. The fucking air in the Atlas Academy lobby opposes Ironwood. Robyn seems to be there... because Mantle needed a voice? Okay, well, why the fuck did Mantle need to exist? Because... the election plotline needed to exist so Jacque could do something mean? God, everything about Mantle and Robyn and the election plotline is just annoying. It drags and it adds nothing to the plotline and it all should have been culled so instead we could focus on things that are actually important (like maybe: the myth arc? character development? the fucking Schnees in Atlas???) rather then rwby’s fuckboi incel attempt at ‘classism = bad?’. If I, as a professional paid editor who works with actual manuscripts, was given the scripts for rwby vol7, I would have gotten the big red highlighter and done a shitload of crossing out. Then I would have told the writing team “come back with your second draft”, but alas, we got the Atlas Arc.

My favorite thing about the character

I love her design aside from that ugly-ass scarf. Also, her VA, Cristina Vee, is the only redeeming quality of this tire-fire of a character. Godbless and praise.

A headcanon I have about them

She deals with chronic ‘ponytail keeps falling out’ syndrome, just constantly. So many hairbands get used up when she does anything.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

Everything. Every fucking thing. Especially that stupid fucking lie-detecting semblance.

What I I think of their character allusion and what (if anything) I would change about it

It’s incredibly underutilised. It’s Robin Hood in-name-only. It’s like, the most basic ‘oh the name is Robin and they steal’ and there’s not even any of the most obvious tells. Where’s the bright green? Where’s the hood? Where’s the fucking longbow? Where’s the ‘giving to the poor’ that comes after ‘stealing the rich’? She didn’t actually use any of those things she stole to fix Mantle, she just stole it.

Literally, all the classic elements of Robin Hood are missing, all that’s there is a name and... that’s it. The allusion isn’t there, and even if it was, it’s done in a boring fashion.

Personally, I would add more Robin Hood elements, and I would change one key thing. I would change her allegiance. Instead of ‘Robin Hood on the side of good’, I would take the team WTCH approach, a ‘good allusion turned evil’, and I’d have Robyn working with Salem, or, at least, as an antagonist. Because that could be actually interesting then the boring and unnecessary storyline we had.

#rwby #robyn hill #asks #if you get mad at this just remember Galatians 4:16

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diazpoems · 3 years

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Me watching Riverdale S2:

THE WAY KEVIN IS RAISING HIS HAND TO THE MOTHERFUCKING SKY WHEN HIRAM ASKS FOR A VOLUNTEER FOR A WRESTLING DEMONSTRATION. THIS THIRSTY MOTHERFUCKER. HIS FACE IS PRICELESS.

I wish I could just jump into Riverdale and shake the characters and be like

Cheryl: Your parents fucking suck

Josie: Your parents fucking suck

Veronica: Your parents fucking suck

Betty: Your parents fucking suck

Archie: Your dads okay so far, I don’t know about your mom

Jughead: Your dad used to fucking suck but as a person, at his core, I don’t think he’s evil, and he’s getting better, but he’s got a ways to learn. I don’t know about your mom

Kevin: Your dad’s decent so far? Don’t know about your mom

Like especially Josie because I know it’s hard and that a lot of the trauma her mom felt probably manifested itself badly and Josie probably feels attached to her mom and like she owes her being a good daughter because her mom’s had it bad but like I also DON’T CARE. FUCKING TREAT YOUR CHILD RIGHT. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT HAPPENED. THATS YOUR CHILD. WOMAN UP AND BE A FUCKING DECENT PERSON. I DON’T CARE THAT YOU PUT A ROOF OVER HER HEAD, FOOD IN HER MOUTH, GAVE HER A SINGING CAREER (But continue to control it and not give her leeway to think and act on her own). SHE DON’T OWE YOU SHIT. FUCK OFF WITH YOUR WEIRD LIFE-FUCKING-SUCKED-FOR-ME-BUT-IM-ALSO-A-CLASSIST-BITCH PARADOX. MY DAD’S GOT IT MADE RIGHT NOW BUT HE HASN’T FORGOTTEN HIS ROOTS, HASN’T FORGOTTEN THE DISCRIMINATION HE FACED AND THE FACT THAT HE GREW UP SHIT POOR EARLY ON AND HE HASN’T DECIDED “Hey, let’s ridicule people for being in a similar position that I was in!”

Basically, this is me begging for for Josie’s mom to ✨fucking do better✨

Anyways yeah normalize Riverdale characters disowning their own parents ✌🏽🥰

Hmmm. If I wasn’t completely and utterly for the Serpents before, the white serpents learning to shut the fuck up and stand with Toni and her grandfather in opposition of the genocide and colonialism that was perpetrated by Cheryl’s great great grandfather? Hell fucking yeah

Dude I’m sorta crying at the scene with Hiram seeing Veronica in her confirmation dress because he’s a piece of shit but this is how it goes down, like it’s a whole thing

I love that I immediately knew the meaning of “Catholic chic”. Apparently that’s all going to church every Sunday for the formative years of my life accomplished

I hope Penelope Blossom dies in a fire :)

OH MY GOD, LOVE SIMON CAME OUT RIGHT AROUND HERE, KEVIN IS ASKING MOOSE TO IT, MY COMFORT MOVIE OH MY GOD-

Ugh, I don’t trust Midge. Something about the tropey-ness of her being The Girlfriend™️ and her face, as well as the fact that she played Gen in tatbilb, something doesn’t sit right. The haircut feels too manic pixie, like she’s hiding something. Bad vibes

NOOO CHERYL ILL GO ON A VACATION WITH YOU 😭 GOD IM SO GONE FOR HER

Aaaaand she did some fuck shit. Aaaand Toni is pretty. Aaaand there’s the internalized homophobia.

Jughead saying that growing up Betty’s and Archie’s windows being parallel always bothered him sounds more like a jarchie admission than a bughead one, I’m just sayin’

BETTY AND JUGHEAD’S REACTIONS WHEN THEY HEAR THE BED SQUEAKING IS ME. Like the little amused but lowkey confused and baffled expression on his face as he’s like “is that their solution to everything? Can’t they ever just talk?” Like no apparently not. Me too Jug, me too-

Idk Vee, maybe he’s asking questions about your father’s line of work and the business of his associates because your dad and mom are fucking evil

What the fuck Veronica. I mean yay because that just gets us closer to Jarchie kiss but like what the fuck Vee. Also Jughead is super cute, like why does the blue eyes black hair thing absolutely melt my weak heart, like I didn’t choose to fall for this pasty ass white boy but here we are. Also Veronica’s eyes are really big and dark and pretty like girl help im falling for these two-

BETTY LITERALLY POINTED IT OUT, C’MON NOW CW, I KNOW WE’VE MADE THE MISTAKE OF GROVELING WITH SPN BUT PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU WE NEED A JARCHIE KISS-

CAN HETEROSEXUALS PLEASE STOP FUCKING ALL THE TIME ON TV. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SHOVE YOUR STRAIGHTNESS IN MY FACE. NOT EVERYONE IS STRAIGHT YOU KNOW.

“Entertain Jughead” 😏

DUDE. They were sitting ALONE. TOGETHER. In the WOODS. With them being the ONLY ones who haven’t kissed. DUDE.

C’MON MAN, THEY’RE STARING FUCKING LONGINGLY AT EACH OTHER

If there are weird gay ships for straights then Jeronica is the weird straight ship for gays

Ok so is there a legitimate reason why Veronica is faithful to her parents and defends them to a tee and partakes in their mob shit or is she just daddy’s little fucking girl. Like it isn’t her fault that she’s been manipulated but it pisses me the fuck off. And people who want her to stay with her parents because supposedly they’re the only ones who love her even though it’s toxic and warped? Like do you have a brain?

Archie and Veronica really love supporting gentrification, classism, and Vee’s rich daddy and mommy’s innocence huh

Look i actually agree with Reggie for once, get Hiram’s ass, deal with it Veronica

Wow, nice, shaming Jug for eating. That’s cool, Arch. That’s awesome. And no Betty, she doesn’t have everybody’s vote. Because Veronica’s parents are motherfuckers and when it comes to choosing between a murderer/abuser/rich/classist/gentrifying fuck and supporting your bestie uwu guess which one im fucking picking. Also, THANK YOU JUG for explaining to your friend that even though he lives in a fantasy land where northside Riverdale is the only one worth referring to when talking about Riverdale at all and thus the only one that matters and is worth protecting, the southside exists and people live and have grown up in the southside and building a prison there where it will be even more easy to profile and incarcerate southside residents under false or exaggerated pretenses ISN’T A GOOD THING. That his own friend isn’t quite apart of his and Veronica’s and Betty’s socioeconomic caste and that he’s not going to pretend like he is, he isn’t going to be quiet about it just because you’re friends again. That he’s not going to lay down and let Archie explain what a good move for Riverdale is when he clearly means northside riverdale, let him explain how the southside needs to be dealt with to someone who grew up on the southside and knows it more (not the most, I’m not saying Jug isn’t out of his depth with certain aspects of being a full southsider) intricately than him. LIKE FUCK. ARCHIE. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO. Like he just doesn’t get why building prisons and stereotyping and condemning all southsiders and gentrifying entire neighborhoods is really fucking bad and a big deal and it annoys me so much. Like yeah Arch, obviously you don’t see the big deal because it doesn’t affect you and you delude yourself that it doesn’t affect your friend either, but it actually is that bad.

In conclusion, Archie and Veronica and sometimes Betty are giving me headaches rn. Like I’m not saying Jughead is perfect at all but in this particular instance he’s the only one I agree with for the most part right now.

Yeah Arch, you see things differently because you’re not the one who’s on the receiving end of the problem

YES MOMMA ANDREWS. SNAP! GO FERAL! SHOW THAT SOB SOME CONSEQUENCES!

Ah, so this is the jarchie “break-up” scene. You know what. I feel no heartbreak. Get his ass Jug.

Get. His. Ass.

They sent Cheryl to a conversion institution. I’m literally crying. This isn’t an exaggeration. I feel like I want to cry. Just. God fucking damn it.

SHE DOESN’T WANT TO GET BETTER. SHE’S NOT SICK. YOU ARE. DIE. FUCKING DIE. BURN IN HELL. AND PENELOPE BLOSSOM TOO.

“That’s not how things go in Riverdale” is a veiled way of saying “don’t challenge the upper class and don’t try to stifle gentrification,” I hope you all know

#she speaks #riverdale #cheryl blossom #josie mccoy #veronica lodge #betty cooper #archie andrews #jughead jones #sierra mccoy #you know how spn and merlin fans have that one tag?#u kno the one #john winchester’s a+ parenting #uther pendragon’s a+ parenting #petition to use the same thing when a riverdale parent does something shitty and manipulative to their kid #sierra mccoy’s a+ parenting

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wistfulcynic · 5 years

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Their Way By Moonlight: Emma (Chapter 4)

Notes: Thank you as always for your comments and feedback, though I confess I've been a bit taken aback by the vehement reaction to Emma and Walsh's cursed marriage. It seems that people hate Walsh in a much more visceral way than I anticipated.

I do truly appreciate all of you who are reading this, and especially those who have made supportive and encouraging comments. I’m really putting a lot into this one in terms of style, plot, and detail, and it’s hard not to get discouraged when I pour blood and sweat into something only to have everyone focus on one tiny thing. So to ease your minds, here is our first chapter from Emma’s POV. I think it will go a long way towards assuaging your fears about her circumstances under the curse. If you are considering bailing on this fic because of the Emma/Walsh situation, I would ask you please to read this chapter before you make a final decision.

As before, there are allusions to cursed relationships, and a potentially distressing scene of aggression within a cursed marriage.

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M

Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615@tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer @lfh1962

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!

Read it on AO3

Emma:

Emma hesitated outside the door of the old cannery. She wasn’t quite certain of why she was there, or the reason behind the irresistible compulsion she felt to see its disconcertingly attractive new owner again. He had invited her to come by, though of course he’d meant later— the bookstore wasn’t even open yet. But Emma hadn’t been able to wait. Two days had passed since they’d met, since that brief but oddly intense conversation in Granny’s, and she had been unable to get Killian Jones and his son out of her head. Something about them, about him, pulled at her, and it wasn’t just his striking looks, not even the beautiful blue eyes with their expression of profound, compelling sadness. It was something deeper. She felt somehow as though she knew him, and more astoundingly that he knew her, better than anyone, better even than her own husband. Although, she thought with a small start, as though the idea had only just occurred to her, Walsh barely even took the trouble to speak to her these days, much less keep up with what was going on in her life. She’d been meaning to talk to him about that, she remembered suddenly. Yes. She’d been meaning to talk to him about a lot of things, but when the time came to do so she always seemed to forget. Tonight, she promised herself, making a mental note. Tonight they would finally talk. She wouldn’t forget this time.

Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the doorknob with her right hand, the palm of which still tingled from her brief handshake with Killian two days ago, and as she opened the door she remembered how the night before last her sleep had been troubled by disturbing dreams. She could recall only wisps of them, but she was certain he had been in them, he and his eyes, doing things to her that she couldn’t bear to think about in the light of day. Things she couldn’t bear to admit she had loved.

She really should stay far away from him. And yet here she was, in his shop.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, gasping at the sight before her. The room was simply lovely, bright and airy, with sunlight pouring in through the wide windows, dancing across the exposed brick walls and the antique looking dark-wood shelves that stood tall in four distinct sections around the room. A heavy mahogany desk sat opposite the door, elegantly carved with nautical designs: ships and storms, mermaids and other sea creatures she couldn’t put a name to, all rendered in exquisite detail. Atop it was an antique metal cash register, as elegantly decorated as the desk, sitting alongside, Emma was amused to note, a decidedly modern portable card reader attached to an iPad. Someone had a taste for the ancient but enough sense to appreciate the modern, she thought.

She was so caught up in admiration of her surroundings that she didn’t notice Killian’s arrival until he spoke.

“Swan?” The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around her, as deep and sonorous as she remembered, almost caressing her name. She turned to see him standing at the foot of the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” she said, feeling abruptly hot and itchy. How was it possible that he could be even better looking than she remembered? Admittedly she hadn’t really had a good look at Granny’s, though she had definitely noticed his face, but now as he stood by the black wrought-iron staircase that wound in a perfect helix up to a hole in the ceiling, his expression briefly unguarded and searingly intense, she had an opportunity to ogle.

He wore dark grey trousers in a soft woolen twill and an equally soft looking v-neck sweater in a shade of blue that made his eyes stand out even more. A tuft of dark hair peeked out just above the vee, and the itch in Emma’s palm flared to life again with the desire to touch it, to touch him. Everything about him seemed so eminently touchable. The sweater clung to his lean frame just tightly enough to show how fit he was, and his hair was tousled in a way that looked both deliberate and as though it could have been caused by fingers being run through it in the heat of passion.

What? Emma shook herself. Where the hell did that come from? Remember you’re married. And it’s not like you know anything about the heat of passion, anyway. At least, that’s what Walsh always told her, what he always gave as an excuse for why he didn’t want to touch her. She was cold, he said. Too hard. Not enough. She forced back those thoughts, promising herself once again that she would sit down with Walsh that evening and discuss the problems in their marriage. She dreaded it, but she had to try. They couldn’t go on much longer like this.

“Uh,” she tried again to respond to Killian’s question. “You said I should come by.”

“So I did, though I didn’t expect you quite so soon. I’m afraid we’re not open yet.”

“Yeah, sorry, it was stupid,” she said, turning away. “I was just passing and I thought— never mind, I’ll go—”

“No!” She looked back at him, startled at the vehemence in his voice. He flushed faintly pink and reached up to rub at a spot behind his right ear. “No, you don’t have to go. Please don’t, in fact. I’d be happy to, um, give you a tour? If you’d like.”

He looked hesitant but also eager, like he really, really wanted her to stay. She smiled. It felt like a long time since anyone had actually desired her company.

“Okay,” she said, a bit shyly. “I’d like that.”

A bright smile broke across his face, warm and soft and with just a hint of something wicked beneath it. For a moment Emma forgot to breathe. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Well, why don’t we start here?” he said, coming to stand beside her and indicating the near corner of the room with his left arm. His sleeve was pushed up slightly and she could see the seam where his prosthetic hand joined his arm. She realised with surprise that she hadn’t noticed the other day that he was missing his left hand. He’s missing his left hand. Why did that fact seem so significant to her? It tickled at the back of her mind, like something she needed to remember but couldn’t quite pull from her subconscious.

“So we’re still waiting on some inventory, but you can see the general layout of the shop,” he was saying. “Reference material is here at the front, with theory guides just here behind it. The practical manuals we have to be a bit more careful with, so they’re back in this corner, some of them will be locked in a special glass cupboard, available on request only. Then here in this corner we have the historical context.”

Emma frowned, looking more closely at the titles of the books that already graced the shelves. Rare volumes, he’d said the other day, but these were all—

“These are books of magic!” she cried.

“Oh, aye, did I not mention? That’s our specialty. Books of and about magic.”

She started to laugh, then trailed off when she noticed he didn’t join her. “But you’re not serious?”

“Very serious.”

“Books of magic.”

“And about magic, aye.”

“But— magic isn’t real.”

“There are quite a number of people who would disagree with that assessment, Sheriff.”

“And you’re one of them?” Her voice was rife with disbelief.

“Aye,” he replied, and the sincerity in his face and tone were unmistakable. “I am.”

She shook her head. “I would never have pegged you as someone with an interest in the occult. You seem so, I dont know, practical.”

“Oh, I’m very practical, love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in magic.”

She wanted to deny his words, really it was so absurd, but she realised with another start of surprise that she was genuinely interested, almost despite herself, curious to the point of fascination. “Will you tell me about them?”

He exhaled deeply, almost as if he had been holding his breath waiting for her reaction, and gave her another dazzling smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

Nearly two hours later they were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and Emma’s head was buzzing with stories of witches and wizards, covens and cults, fascinating details concerning the history and practice of magical arts. She felt like she had learned more in that short time than she had before in the whole of her life. Of course, her earlier education had been… it had been… what? She couldn’t recall. Frowning, she tried to remember where she had gone to school, the names of her teachers, fellow classmates, anything, but it was all a blank.

“Emma?” She turned to see Killian looking at her inquiringly. “Are you all right, love?”

She should really object to that ‘love’, she knew, but couldn’t bring herself to. She liked it. It made her feel warm inside.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.”

He nodded, and reached out to close one of the books. “We’ve been talking for a long time,” he said. “Perhaps we could take a break?”

She watched carefully as he used the prosthetic hand to close the book. The hand moved, she noticed, clearly it had some sort of mechanism operating it, but he seemed to mange it awkwardly, as though not quite used to it. She wondered how long he’d had— “When did you lose your hand?” she blurted, then flushed. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

He looked startled, then smiled. “No, it’s fine. It’s been so long, I don’t mind speaking of it anymore.”

“How long?”

“Oh, years and years.”

“What happened? Er, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all. It was stupid, really. I was young, I got in a fight. Over a woman. Woke up the next day with no hand.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Like I said it was years ago.”

“Mmmmm.”

“What is it, Swan?” He looked almost expectant, like he knew the gears were turning in her head and was excited to see what they would spit out. She felt again the odd, unfamiliar sensation of being the focus of genuine interest. He truly seemed to care about what she had to say, for no reason other than that she was saying it.

“It’s just— well, you don’t seem very comfortable with the artificial one. If it’s been so long, I guess I would have thought you’d be more used to it by now.”

“Ah, well that’s explained easily enough. I lost my hand so long ago that the prosthetics that were available to me at the time were, um, let’s say primitive. This one however is quite new. State of the art, they tell me. It works by interacting with the electrical impulses in my muscle fibres, apparently. So you see, until quite recently I had a much simpler one, and this one, while far better in many ways, is taking a bit of time to adjust to.”

Every word he spoke was the truth, she could detect no dishonesty in his face or manner, yet she sensed it wasn’t the whole story either. He was leaving out important details. And she wondered why.

As he spoke he adjusted the prosthetic with his right hand, drawing her attention to the thick, engraved silver band he wore on its ring finger. A wedding ring? she wondered. It must be. A man with no left hand would naturally wear his wedding band on his right, wouldn’t he? Especially if until recently he’d worn a simpler prosthesis, one with no fingers.

She wondered, and not for the first time, about Henry’s mother. Killian’s face when he’d spoken of her in Granny’s had worn for a brief moment such a devastated expression, her loss must still be fresh and painful for him. In a weird way that made her feel better about having sought him out and spent so long talking with him. She was married, he a grieving widower, what harm could there be in a friendship between them? She certainly wouldn’t have to worry about anything coming of the fierce attraction she felt for him. Even if he felt it too, he would never act on it. He was very obviously still in love with his wife, and Emma somehow knew beyond any doubt that he was not a man to betray those he loved.

“So, um, it’s ah, lunchtime,” he said, scratching behind his ear again. “And it seems we both could use a break. Would you care to join me? For some lunch?”

“Sure, I guess. Where were you going to go?”

“I—, uh, we live upstairs,” he gestured towards the staircase. “The third floor is a loft apartment, I was just going to go up and make a sandwich.”

Alone with him in his apartment. Emma’s heart thundered. “A sandwich sounds great,” she managed to say. “Can you do grilled cheese?”

His face twisted for a moment into the strangest expression, half blissful happiness, half like he wanted to cry. “I can,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It’s my son’s favourite.”

“In that case, I’d love to join you.”

The grilled cheese was perfect, exactly the way she liked it. She told him as much, and was rewarded with another half-delighted, half-sad expression. “I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he said, almost to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“Grilled cheese is— Henry’s mother’s favourite as well,” he said quietly. “Since we lost her we don’t make it as often as we used to.”

Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she crunched her sandwich in slightly awkward silence as he busied himself at the stove, avoiding looking at him until he slid a cup in front of her. “What’s this?” she asked in surprise.

“Traditional Jones family accompaniment to grilled cheese,” he replied.

She picked up the mug and inhaled over it. “Hot chocolate with— is that cinnamon?”

“Aye. It’s a bit odd I’ll grant you, and if I’m honest I prefer it plain, but that’s how Henry likes it.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me your son likes cinnamon on his hot chocolate.”

“Aye.” He seemed to be watching her carefully.

“Grilled cheese and hot chocolate with cinnamon is my favourite lunch,” she said. “You’re basically telling me that I have the same tastes as your thirteen year old kid.”

“Would it help if I confessed to an affinity for it as well?” he asked, his face deadpan but with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“It might.”

“Very well, I confess it, but you mustn’t ever tell Henry. I’d never get him to eat a vegetable again if he thought he could wheedle grilled cheese out of me every night.”

“It’s a deal.”

The earlier awkwardness was dispelled, and as Killian sat down to eat his sandwich Emma sipped her chocolate —it too was perfect— making it last as long as possible. There was no way she could justify staying any longer once lunch was over, and she didn’t want to go. She felt comfortable with Killian, and happy, things she couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Later she knew she would need to analyse these feelings, but for now she simply wished to feel them.

When the last drop was finally drained she set the cup down on the counter, then realised it might be nice if she took it to the sink instead and went to pick it up again, at the same time as Killian reached for it himself. Her hand closed around it first followed a second later by his, his fingers linking with hers in a way that felt so natural that it didn’t even occur to her to question it, simply laughing lightly as they released the cup but not each other’s hands. His thumb caressed her bare ring finger. “You don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said softly.

She could barely breathe her heart was pounding so hard, the gentle movements of his thumb sending sparks coursing up her arm, reverberating through her whole body. “Um,” she said, trying to think. “No, I — I have one of course, but I don’t wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Er.” She tried to remember. There was a reason, surely? “I can’t with— with my job. It gets in the way.” Yes, that must be it.

“Ah.” Something in his tone suggested he didn’t quite believe her, but before she could reply he had released her hand and turned away, picking up the mug and putting it in the sink.

“I like yours though,” she said abruptly. Where did that come from?

“What?” He turned, giving her an odd look.

“Your wedding ring.” She reached out and took his hand again, this time caressing the silver band upon the third finger with her own thumb. “It is a wedding ring, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Aye.”

“Henry’s mother.” It wasn’t a question and so required no answer, but he gave one anyway. “Aye.” The sadness was back in his voice, this time untempered by any joy.

Emma smiled, feeling suddenly swamped by sadness herself. She felt such a connection to this man, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and she hated to think of him hurting.

Briefly she allowed herself a rare, uncharacteristic moment of self-indulgence to wonder what it would be like to be loved as devotedly as Killian loved his wife. To be loved even after she was gone. To have such an emotion, from such a man. Swallowing back tears, she looked up at him. “She had good taste. This is exactly the sort of ring I would have chosen.”

“She’s an extraordinary woman,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes blazing with it.

Emma nodded, wishing she knew why that remark left such a clutching, squeezing sensation around her heart.

“Well I should go,” she said, releasing his hand.

He swallowed hard then gave her a small smile, a tight, guarded thing that squeezed her heart again. He looked so sad. She wanted to see the bright, wicked grin from earlier.

“May I see you out?” he asked politely, his emotions under control again.

She shook her head, already moving towards the door. “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

“Any time, love.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Emma.”

She looked back at him, gripped by the wild, irrational hope that he might ask her to stay. “What about your husband?” he asked.

“Who?” She frowned in confusion, then remembered. “Oh, Walsh.” Why had she forgotten him? “What about him?”

“Does he not wear a ring?”

“Of course he does.” Didn’t he? “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that you said ‘would have chosen.’” Killian’s face was calm, but that intensity was back in his eyes.

“What?”

“Just now, when you looked at my ring you said it’s exactly what you would have chosen. Not what you did choose.”

There was that confusion again, swirling through her brain and blocking her thoughts. Why couldn’t she think? “I— I must have misspoken.” She rubbed her forehead, which had started to ache.

He was silent for a long moment before replying. “Of course, I’m sure that’s it. Goodbye, Sheriff.”

Emma smiled tightly and left.

When she arrived home that evening, Emma sought out Walsh in his study. He didn’t like her bothering him there but she was confused, her head spinning with questions that needed answers. She’d spent the afternoon in her office with the lights dimmed, nursing her headache and making a list of all the questions she needed to ask him, everything that was odd in their relationship and in her life. It was a long list. Why hadn’t she ever talked to him before? She’d been unhappy for so long…

“What is it, Emma?” Walsh’s voice was cold.

“I just— wanted to talk to you. About some things.”

He turned and fixed her with the icy, probing stare that never failed to make her tongue-tied and anxious. She wanted to flee, back to the relative safety of the living room, where Walsh rarely went. No! You need answers! Stay strong!

“Some things,” Walsh repeated.

“Y-yes.”

“Well go on,” he waved his hand at her and adopted an expression of exaggerated patience. “We haven’t got all night. What are these ‘things’ that are suddenly so important?”

Emma had spent an hour memorising her list of questions, but now she could only remember one.

“Why don’t you wear a wedding ring?” she burst out. “Why don’t I?”

“Of— of course I wear one!” Walsh looked genuinely surprised, his composure slipping enough to rejuvenate her resolve.

“Walsh I am looking at your hand right now and it is bare,” she said. “Neither of us wear rings. I’m certain I have one, I remember it, but where is it? Why did I stop wearing it?” He gaped at her and she seized her opportunity, letting months worth of questions flood out. “And why don’t we do anything together any more? What happened to our friends? I remember— I think I remember that we used to go out, do things as a couple, with other couples. But we have no friends now, and I stay in alone every night. I feel like I never see you these days, you’re hardly ever home, you never want to have sex—” she broke off as a look of revulsion crossed Walsh’s face, crushing her, stopping the words in her throat. Your own husband finds you repulsive, she thought bitterly, and a small voice at the very back of her consciousness piped up with a single word. “Why?”

What? thought Emma, and the voice elaborated. “Dont you want to know why?”

A memory flashed through her mind, although no, not a memory, it couldn’t be, but it felt like a memory. The blue, blue eyes of Killian Jones, warm with adoration, his deep voice, his hand in her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he whispered. “So utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.”

“Walsh, what’s going on?” she asked, suddenly angry, furious, incandescent with rage. “There’s something very wrong here, and I think you’re behind it. Tell me what it is. Tell me what you’ve done to me!”

Walsh’s face twisted into a terrifying snarl and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him until they were nose-to-nose, drowning her anger in fear. “Why are you asking these questions all of a sudden?” he hissed, “Does it by any chance have something to do with our new neighbourhood bookseller?”

“Wh— what?” Emma scrambled to lie, to protect Killian. “No! Of course not.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Emma.” Walsh sighed, his face falling back into its usual supercilious, condescending expression. Still holding her arm he turned and picked something up from his desk, a small box in silver filigree, beautiful in a cold and terrible way. “Fortunately it won’t matter. Come morning you’ll be yourself again. Or one of your selves, anyway.” He opened the box with a flick of his thumb and blew a harsh puff of air into it, sending a shower of glittering grey particles flying into Emma’s eyes. She gasped, then collapsed. Walsh held her up with his grip on her arm, then gave her a shove back into the sofa behind her. “That should take care of you for now,” he muttered, looking down at her unconscious form. “It appears that the pirate works faster than I had anticipated. Of course very little that we anticipated about him has turned out to be true. How he even managed to get here in the first place is something I would very much like to know. He is supposed to be stuck in Neverland.” He paused, smirking. “The power of true love, I suppose,” he said, sneering the words. “But he’ll soon be dealt with, him and your son. And now, ‘wife’, off to bed with you.” He waved his hand and Emma disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

When she awoke the next morning, alone in her bed as always, all her doubts and worries about her marriage along with all recollection of her confrontation with Walsh were gone.

Her memories of the time she’d spent with Killian Jones, however, were not.

Notes: I hope this makes you feel a bit better (but still interested enough to want more!).

#cs ff #cursed storybrooke #captain swan #captain cobra #cursed captain swan #mystery #angst #canon divergence #alternative 3b #their way by moonlight #profdanglaisstuff

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mearcatsreturns · 5 years

Text

can’t help it (falling in love) ch. 2

Look. I didn't mean to write a second chapter. It just happened. It’s vaguely for @somekindofflowergirl, vaguely for me, because I needed it from Luka’s POV too. The softer, gentler courtship Abby and Luka could have had in season 12, even if I love canon.

Chapter 2: Fools Rush In

Luka drums his fingers against the table, staring over at the little metal rectangle. He’s forty years old, it shouldn’t be this difficult to pick up his phone and call the woman he likes. (More than likes, he can’t even lie to himself.)

He and Abby spend plenty of time together now. It’s not like she won’t say yes if she’s free. In fact, she’d taken him out to dinner for his birthday just the previous month. Originally, a few of the others were going to meet them at the restaurant, but everyone had ended up cancelling for various reasons. It had just been him and Abby, so they’d just ended up staying for appetizers at the nice restaurant before heading to the Polish restaurant he’d loved when they were dating. It had been perfect, and Luka had known then that there was still something between them...at least on his end.

He hadn’t acted immediately. He didn’t want to rush it this time, didn’t want to scare her off or dive into something before they were ready. He’d needed time, and it had been nice, growing back into each other’s lives again.

Lately, he’s noticed a...change. He catches Abby watching him often enough, and if he sees a fraction of the hope he feels...well.

He’s tired of inaction, of sitting and pining. Even her friendship is enough, and if that’s all she wants, he’ll be fine with it. It’s just...if they have a chance to make something more, this time with a solid foundation of friendship and history, he wants that more than anything.

Finally, he musters the courage and dials the number he knows by heart. It rings twice before Abby picks up, and he can’t help but smile at her greeting.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Long time no talk, eh?”

“Yeah, the last 13 hours have been brutal,” she says in that wry way he adores.

“Well, to celebrate saving the girl yesterday and having the day off, I was thinking of making something nice for lunch, if you wanted to come join me.”

“Sure, as long as you promise it’s not that lamb gruel.”

“Heathen,” he says fondly, “but no, I’ll make something you will eat.”

“See you at noon?”

“It’s a date,” Luka agrees, then panics at his word choice. Not that he doesn’t want it to be a date, but if he scares her off, that would be the worst thing. He hangs up before she can react.

&&&

Abby shows up exactly at noon, and Luka tries not to stare or salivate too much at the low vee of her tee shirt’s neckline under her jacket. He’s honestly not very successful, but he really can’t help it. She’s so gorgeous, and it’s difficult not to remember that he knows what she looks like underneath it all.

He needs a glass of ice water. Or a cold shower.

They finish up their meal—a Mediterranean fish dish Abby likes—and Luka finds he’s unwilling for their time together to come to an end. Maybe, just maybe, if he keeps suggesting things, she’ll keep hanging out with him.

While he’s very tempted to suggest they stay in and watch something on TV, he’s not sure he’d be able to keep from jumping on her, or however the saying goes. And he very much wants to, but he needs to make sure it’s what she wants before potentially risking the wonderful friendship they have now. Instead he proposes a walk, and Abby agrees easily, though she seems to have doubts about whether her jacket will be warm enough.

Luka is willing to do whatever it takes to keep her warm.

It’s getting harder not to just reach for her hand when they walk beside each other. He wants to, and badly, and he considers compromising and offering his arm when she leads him onto a path by the lake. Finding out that she’s brought him to one of her favorite places to think, though—that touches something deep in him, fans the flames of hope that they might be ready to open up enough for a relationship.

He decides that if she can chance opening up, he can chance...something, while still not being too forward. He fights the nervousness churning in his gut and gently wraps his arm around her where they sit on the bench, letting out a sigh of relief when after a brief pause, they just continue talking (flirting). After a minute, when Abby leans into his chest ever so slightly, he again has to remind himself that he’s a grown man who might be in charge of an entire County ER soon. And that he needs to keep breathing.

Her light teasing followed by concern about whether he really does want the Chief position just cements what he’s been suspecting since roughly a week after he and Sam broke up—that he’s as in love with Abby as he’s been since she came to him in his hotel room five years ago.

Truthfully, he’s not sure he really does want to be Chief, but he’s far better than Clemente. Definitely better than any outsider they might find. Being Chief isn’t a particular dream of his, but it’s something he can pursue with less...finesse…than he’s attempting to pursue Abby.

It makes him wonder, though. He knows it’s fishing, but he can’t help it. Biting his lip, he asks, “What about you?”

“Well, I’m not in the running to be Chief. I should probably finish my residency first,” she grins.

Now that he’s put his arm around her and she seems okay with that, he can’t stop touching her. Or teasing her. He pinches her arm lightly in faux reprimand. “Okay, smartass. I meant if you had some big hopes, but I can see that you’ve already achieved your dream of always having a...feisty....response.”

She pauses for a long moment, and he wonders if the fabric of their reality is about to shift. His heart speeds up when she leans back further into his embrace and says, “There is one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I really want to see that space cowboy movie with Nathan Fillion. I’ve been meaning to since it came out, it just hasn’t happened yet.”

In spite of the pang of disappointment he feels, he’s still amused. And this? This he can handle and turn into more time with her. “Well, I guess if we hurry we could probably make a matinee. I can make your dream come true.”

If his hand lingers longer than strictly necessary when he helps her up, she doesn’t seem to mind.

&&&

Going to the movies with Abby is refreshingly normal. It’s fun to just relax and be them, but it’s also something they didn’t do much of when they were dating. It’s easier now to just be, to coexist together, enjoying each other’s presence in their quiet way. Luka doesn’t care much about the movie or care very much what happens, especially when the action picks up and Abby grabs at his arm and doesn’t let go.

His stomach growls as they’re leaving the theater, and he shrugs sheepishly as she laughs at him. They head to one of the hot dog vendors and are just starting to eat when the pages and calls come in from County. There’s a crisis, because of course there is.

They take his car, listening with alarm to the coverage of the plane crash. It’s going to be a busy night.

Luka isn’t wrong about that. It is busy, but not as brutal as it could have been. By the time he sees Baxter up to ICU and checks in on him, the ER has managed to get things under control.

He’s tired, but buzzed on the victory of a good night. He worked with Abby nearly the whole time, and it’s amazing how much better that makes things.

She’s his favorite person to work with. That’s been true since she was a nurse, and it’s doubly true now. He’s so proud of how far she’s come. Tonight, she was brilliant, and he can’t wait to see her become the great doctor he’s always known she can be.

He brushes off Clemente—yes, they probably should talk, but there’s no need to sour this night—and heads out into the ambulance bay on the way to his car.

He nearly runs into her, but he can’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Abby. Nor can he fight the glow of happiness when she returns it.

“How’s our favorite patient?”

“Huh? Oh, Baxter. He made it up to ICU and will be fine, even if I’m not so sure about his fiancee.” Meeting Baxter’s fiancee had definitely been one of those times where he wished he could just be absorbed into the floor.

Abby snorts. “Good, good. That’ll be...fun.”

“Not our problem, at least,” he says. And thank god. For a moment, he wonders what she’s doing out here, then he remembers that they aren’t in fact the only doctors who’ve had a night. “Is Neela all right?”

“She will be, I was just worried about smoke inhalation.”

“She’s tough.” Neela is, but he’s not thinking about her anymore.

Especially when Abby shivers. His evil brain immediately supplies the image of her doing just that while he runs his tongue between her breasts, and he internally yells at himself. She’s COLD, it’s November and she’s out here with only her lab coat.

He can be a gentleman, even if his brain isn’t convinced. Luka reaches out and rubs her upper arms, trying to warm her while still keeping a respectable distance between them.

Liar, you just want to touch her, he hears. He ignores that voice and smiles down at Abby. “Cold?”

“A little. I forgot my jacket inside,” she says, biting her lip. His eyes follow the movement, and he decides to hell with respectable distance.

Stepping closer to her, Luka trails his hands to her back, holding her in a lose embrace. She can still move away if she doesn’t want this, but he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t. “I’d offer you my jacket, but…”

His eyes widen when she steps closer and grabs the labels of said jacket. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.”

“Might get in the way,” he says, voice hoarse. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

“Nope.”

“We had a good night tonight,” he says, leaning his forehead against hers, brushing his nose against hers, their lips just centimeters apart.

It was a good night, even before they saved people’s lives, and Luka hopes it only gets better.

So he presses his lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. When she responds, he pulls her closer until she’s standing on the tips of her toes, their bodies pressed against each other.

When she deepens the kiss, he can’t hold back a groan. Oh god, this is everything he’s wanted, probably since shortly after he met her, at minimum.

He can’t bring himself to care that they’re in public, at least not yet. Luka walks them back up against one of the stone walls, sliding a leg between hers so he can lift her a little more. He swallows her moan, sliding a hand under her top. He’s about to wrap her legs around his hips and carry her off somewhere, anywhere, so they can be together, when an ambulance zooms past, sirens blaring.

She pulls back and clears her throat, but he is still too undone to function.

“I need to finish up the case notes for Baxter and the, uh, the other patient.”

Abby is so adorable and uncertain, and she looks as thunderstruck as he feels. Luka licks his lips and brushes them across her forehead, letting her step out of the circle of his embrace. “See you tomorrow?”

She smiles, and everything in him sings with relief and joy. “Yeah. See you then. Good night.”

As she turns and walks back inside, he leans against the wall he’d just had her pressed up against, chest heaving. “Night.”

Luka doesn’t know how he’ll sleep, but maybe this once, his dreams will be as sweet as the feel of her in his arms, in his life.

&&&

Over the next couple of days, Luka worries that he’s losing his mind. He bounds back and forth between joy and despair from one moment to the next, and he just can’t. Was she as thrilled as he was? Did it mean more to her, or was it just a kiss? Just...getting caught up in the moment? Should they talk about it? Would this change nothing or everything?

Maybe it would have been easier if they had a chance to talk sooner, but in spite of them having a shift at the same time the very next day, they don’t get to talk. It’s insanely busy, and they don’t even end up working a single case together. They wave at each other in passing, but she’s already gone by the time he gets out of the last trauma of the evening.

She didn’t wait for him, which naturally makes him question everything. It’s not like she agreed to do so. Shit, maybe she didn’t even really want him to make a move the previous day. He desperately wants to call her and ask her if everything is fine, if it’s more than fine, but he gets an attack of nerves and starts sweating every time he types out a message addressing the issue. He can still text her about the normal, everyday things they’re accustomed to talking about, and he’s not sure if her decidedly normal responses are a good or bad sign.

A couple days later, they finally have a shift together again, and when Luka sees Abby in lockup, he shores up his courage. Kind of. He doesn’t need prednisone, but he needs a pretext. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way in.

Her eyes widen when she sees him, and she does that adorable, flustered thing she does when she’s nervous.

He can’t help but smile. “Hey there.”

“Oh, uh, hey.”

“I need to get the prednisone.”

He squeezes by her, and wants nothing more than to take her in his arms. She shivers when he brushes against her, and the sound fills him with hope. He still needs to check to make sure they’re okay, that he hasn’t damaged things with them, but it’s easier than he thought because it’s Abby.

Luka knows words aren’t his strong suit, though, so he fumbles for a moment before deciding to just be as blunt as he can. “Ah, I—well, I just want to make sure it was okay that I kissed you the other day.”

“Oh, I mean, I kissed you back, so...yeah. It’s fine,” she says.

“Good, good.” Initially, all he feels is relief. He hasn’t ruined it, and she did kiss him back. Then he takes in how still she is, how shuttered her expression has gotten.

Fuck. He panics again when she edges toward him, toward the exit. This can’t be all they are. They—she—deserves more than a glorious kiss followed by spluttering.

Then he sees it, and nearly smiles. The uncertainty, the hope, the setting—it’s five years ago all over again, and suddenly, he knows exactly what to do.

Reaching for her hand, he asks, “Abby?”

“Yeah?” She’s looking down at their hands, and he can see the nerves in her furrowed brow and tense shoulders.

“I—do you want to go out? Sometime soon?” God, why are his palms so sweaty?

Then her face transforms, and she smiles at him, pushing back her hair. It’s such a sweet and innocent gesture, and he nearly whoops with glee.

“You mean like date?”

He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He loves that she remembers, he loves that she’s willing to tease him, and he loves all that she is. “Yes.”

If anything, Abby seems startled at his vehemence. “Oh, okay. Um, yeah. Tonight after our shift ends?”

He’s about to agree, when it hits him. “That’s fine—wait, our shift ends at midnight. Is that…?” He wills all of his blood to not flow south, but it sure sounds like she’s implying their date lead a very specific place. One of their beds, to be precise.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned. But there’s definitely plenty we could do then.” Oh. Even he recognizes she’s flirting with him.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned, but there’s definitely plenty we could do then…” She’s biting her lip, and he’s absolutely positive she’s trying to kill him. At least he’ll die a happy man.

Luka tries to take some semblance of control of himself, if not the situation. “We could always go play pool. It is ladies’ night.”

“Is it now?”

“Mmhmm. Unless you were thinking of something more physical.” He can’t help but tease her; he’d nearly walked straight into the admit desk in shock and arousal when she’d said that to him all those years ago.

She turns the prettiest pink and raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, like you weren’t.”

“Always,” he says, and then he can no longer hold back. Taking her face in his hands, he kisses her. With the added clarity of their talk, knowing they’re going to be spending the evening together, and maybe longer (forever, he prays)—it’s better than their last kiss. Maybe better than any of their kisses, ever, though he’s willing to keep comparing.

He’s breathless and very, very aroused by the time she pulls back, running a hand down his chest. “Okay. See you later?”

A nod is all he can manage, but it does the trick. Neither of them want to leave, though, and risk breaking the beautiful spell. He’s seconds away of pulling her into his arms again when Chuny bursts in, sees their...state...and smirks. She talks to Abby, and Luka feels himself blushing. He can’t bring himself to regret anything that transpired, though he hopes Abby doesn’t feel awkward about getting caught.

“Luka?” He comes back to earth at Abby’s quiet question.

“Yes?” It’s a struggle not to tack on “my love” to the end of it, but he doesn’t want her to panic.

She stands on her toes, and presses a chaste but sweet and tender kiss to his lips. He was wrong earlier. That, that, is their best kiss so far, though he hopes they have a lifetime of them. “I’ll come find you when the shift is over.”

“Okay,” she says, and he smiles as he watches her walk down out and down the hallway, nearly skipping.

He can’t wait to see what’s next.

#luby #luby ff #er #er ff #luka x abby #nbc er #amber writes #hahahhaa #i'm weak

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acaddicts · 6 years

Photo

Meet your Admins!

**Not all admins are pictured above**

>Click their title/name to see their posts on our page<

Head Admin: @sunflowercrosser

Name: Amy-Louise

Nickname: Ames, Amylou, "Queen"

Age: 20 Birthday: 24th November Timezone: BST (GMT in Winter) • Best Available: after 5pm Fave Villager/NPC: Rosie|Phylis Fave AC Game: New Leaf About Me: I am a full time carer at the moment. Originally a secretary. I have a puppy called Sox. I am a devoted auntie, and love spending time with my family. Originally from Northern Ireland. Suffer with several chronic illnesses.

Co-Head Admin:

🌿 Name: Eliana 💕 ✨ Nickname: Eli, El 🌿 Age: 18 😱 ✨ Birthday: July 2nd 🌿 Timezone: EST (I think EDT in winter??) ✨ Best Availability: I’m active 90% of the time if I’m not in school or at work 🌿 Fave Villager/NPC: L O B O npc is Sable ✨ Fave AC Game: Honestly New Leaf it’s really great 🌿 A little about you: I am a mother to a chinchilla, I like to play guitar, I’m a huge sims fan, did I mention my chinchilla? And I love everyone here so much💕

Head Artist:

• Name : Cynthia • Nickname : Anakya • Age : 23 • Birthday : February 5 • Timezone : Est • Best Availability : Night • Fave Villager/NPC : Spork • Fave AC Game : New Leaf • A little about you : Im Canadian french. Im a big fan of plushies I think I have an obsession with plushes. Im a big gamer, if I have some free times im probably drawing or playing pc or ps4.

Head Security: @wickedwitchofacnl

• Name: Michelle • Nickname: Mish, mama Mish • Age: 24 • Birthday: October 1st • Timezone: EST • Best Availability: Pretty much at any time, except between midnight and 7 AM • Fave Villager/NPC: Skye • Fave AC Game: ACNL • A little about you: I am a mom of 2.5, I like to be outside and write. I hope one day to become an L&D nurse, or maybe an OBGYN. I love to read and my favorite animal is a penguin.

Co Head Security:

- Jessica - Jess - 19 - 24/09/98 - probably best available in the evening time or late afternoon or weekend mornings (or day cause I'm allowed on my phone at work ) - UK time zone (can never remember proper name lmao) - Benjamin has been my fave for about 5 months but it always changes 😂 - new leaf probably I've spent the most time on it - uh I'm pretty sure you all know me by now, but I have a cat called Murphy who is my fave boi, my created gecko called morph and two fish called tipp and ponyo.. and broccoli is my fave vegetable could eat it all the time 🍒

Head Hacker:

- Candyce - Candy - 17 - January 16, 2001 - Central (USA) - It differs, but usually at night - I love Pudge :) - City Folk - I love cats, plan on becoming a graphic designer, work at a bubble tea shop, and I have celiac, body dysphoria, and lots of anxiety disorders. I've fully recovered from depression and mostly from my eating disorder (it turned into the dysphoria). I'm in a long distance relationship of 4 years and I like to play Wizard101

Co-Head Hacker: @ladykayacnl

• Name - Kayla • Nickname - Kay, Kaylala, Layla, Kayduhx • Age - 27 • Birthday - September 11 • Timezone - Central • Best Availability - All day • Fave Villager/NPC - Cookie! <3 • Fave AC Game - New Leaf :) • A little about you -I've been married for 8 years and I have 5 kids! I'm an Air Force Veteran :). I love tattoos, music, anime, reading, coffee, and helping people! I suffer from resting bitch face, PTSD, and anxiety. I'm generally really nice until someone messes with my family (both IRL and my Addicts family <3).

Head Services Admin: @chibi-bat

Name: Keisha

Nickname:Red 🦇 Age: 24 💜 Birthday: July 20th 🦇 Timezone: PST 💜 Best Availability: Anytime 🦇 Favorite Villager: Gayle & Lucky 💜 Favorite AC Game: New Leaf 🦇 A Little About Me: I am a natural redhead, a mother of 2 boys and have been with my soul mate for 7 years. (We are officially getting married October 27, 2018) We also have a Jack Russell called Kaia. I love video games, am currently obsessed with Paladins & Overwatch. My dream is to become a published author! I am obsessed with bats, foxes, and all things spooky. My favorite time of the year is fall and I love when it rains. 🎃

Head Landscaper:

🌸 Name • Laird Deanna 🌸 Nickname • Marshmallow Melli (Long story) 🌸 Age • 27 🌸 Birthday • 3rd April 1991 🌸 Timezone • GMT 🌸 Best Availability • Evenings and late nights. 🌸 Fave Villager/NPC • Stitches and Sable 🌸 Fave AC Game • New Leaf by far 🌸 A little about you • I come from one of the largest clans in Scotland and proud of it. I also followed in my families footsteps and am a trained seamstress. I make a lot of clothes for myself, headbands, turn up trousers so they don't drag on the floor cuz I'm a short ass, even made a couple of quilts in my time (currently planning another one)

Co-Head Landscaper:

• Name - Stephanie • Nickname - Don’t really have one but I dislike being called Steph! • Age - 27 • Birthday - January 14th • Timezone - CST • Best Availability - Evenings/Nights/Weekends • Fave Villager/NPC - Ankha & Labelle • Fave AC Game - New Leaf 🍃 • A little about you - I’m a pharmacy technician, licensed esthetician and video game addict. I loooooove cats and baking is my favorite hobby besides ACNL 😍😝

Mods

Alanys. 🌌Nickname: Ally or Marie. 💜 🌠Age: 16. 🌌Birthday: October 18th. 🎃 🌠Timezone: AST. 🌌Availability: 3:30 pm to 10:30pm on weekdays, 12:00pm to around 3:00am on weekends. 🌠Fave villagers/npc: Marshal, Merengue, Étoile (even though I'll never get her card 😥😭) and Resetti. 🌌Fave ac game: New leaf. 🍃 🌠A little about me: I'm from Puerto Rico, I speak spanish and love to teach people about it if they ask, I'm going to uni next year and I absolutely want to be a psychologist. I love to help people and hear a thank you, and for some reason I like to hold doors open for everyone. 😂 I love to read about anything Greek mythology, and sometimes I create my own characters based on it. 🏛 My fav games are Resident Evil 4, Metal Gear Solid, God Of War, Danganronpa and two games on my phone called Mystic Messenger and DBZ Dokkan Battle. My fav food is pasta! 🍝 I hate coffee, but I love hot chocolate, and I have a thing for strawberries, strawberry frappes/smoothies and strawberry popsicles. 🍓 I love spending time with my bf and my mom, mostly when I acompany her to go shopping or help her cook! I like watching cooking videos even though I can burn water. 😂 Other than my main hobbies, I like to read/write fanfics, look at memes, listen to music, dance, and play with babies and animals. 💕 Used to want to be a part time babysitter too haha! 💜 And I also love anything related to the galaxy. 🌌💕

Andrea Nickname🌻 •Andi Age🌼 •19 Birthday💫 •30.12.98 Time zone✨ •UTC + 2 Best availability⚡️ •Depends, but normally 12 pm - 8 pm Fave villager/NPC🌷 •Bob is by far my favourite villager! He is my baby. My favourite NPC would be Isabelle, she’s so sweet. Fave AC game🌟 •New Leaf A little about me😸 I love cats. Almost everything I own is cat related. I currently work in a kindergarten (whenever someone is sick I come in), but my dream is to become a dementia nurse. I’m engaged and we live together in a small apartment in Northern Norway. I struggle with my mental health, but I try my best to beat it and do my best to help out in our lovely group. When I don’t play AC or do admin stuff I play other games (Skyrim, Pokèmon) or watch Netflix😎

Ashleigh

🌺 Nickname: Ash 💖Age: 23 🌺Birthday: 19/12 💖Timezone: ACDT 🌺Best Availability: Anytime 💖Fave Villager/NPC: Bluebear 🌺Fave AC Game: New Leaf 💖A little about you: Other than ACNL, I love playing Sims 4 and Pokemon. My favourite Pokemon happens to be lucario.

Ava

🌈Nickname: Vee 🌺Age: 15 (Mentally 5) 🌈Birthday: January 1, 2003 🌺Timezone: CDT (CST during winter) 🌈Best Availability: I’m available about 70% of the time when I’m not in school 🌺Fave Villager/NPC: Favorite villager is Bob (we share the same birthday!) and my favorite NPC is Isabelle 🌈Fave AC Game: New Leaf 🌺A little about me: Starting in September, I will be a sophomore in high school. I suffer from depression and anxiety. I’m in a very unhealthy relationship with my boyfriend but I’m staying in it anyway because I find it too hard to break up with him. My parents are divorced, so I live with my mom until I am old enough to legally move out, but that doesn’t bother me since I get to live with my three year old sister (I swear she’s the most adorable thing ever) and I’m looking forward to having a baby brother sometime near September! I love video games (but nothing can beat Animal Crossing, in my opinion). I also love hanging with friends, reading, and coffee! And of course, the Addicts family❤️

Berkeley

• Nickname: Borkeley, Jo • Age: 23 • Birthday:June 28th, I'm a cancer! • Timezone: EST • Best Availability: Anytime really. • Fave Villager/NPC: Lily + Sable • Fave AC Game: New Leaf or Population Growing • A little about you: I'm a married cat mom, I'm a twitch streamer + i love Gavin Free. Thats about it!

Christina

• Nickname - Chriss or Vicko • Age - 21 • Birthday - July 24th • Timezone - UTC - 6 CST • Best Availability - Mornings and at night • Fave Villager/NPC - For NPC's, Kapp'n and the Porter, for villagers uff I have lots but specially, Molly and Muffy 　. • Fave AC Game - New leaf • A little about you - I love potatoes, anime and manga :3 , also I'm a student from college, I love doing pics editions, draws and such, so if you guys ever need help with thigns related to this, you now know who to call ;) I also can give spanish classes 😝

Emma • Nickname: I don’t really have one but if you call me Em I’m fine with that! • Age: 24 • Birthday: 16th of December • Timezone: PST • Best Availability: Evenings, nights, and weekends • Fave Villager/NPC: Tex and Lottie! • Fave AC Game: New Leaf 😍 • A little about you: I’m a substitute teacher and I’m in the process of going back to school to get my teaching degree! I hope to be an English teacher at either a middle school or a high school. I love reading and writing and I’m really passionate about sleeping 😂

Hanna Nickname: none Age: 22 Birthday: 4th August 1996 Timezone: GMT (Germany) Best Availability: most of the time, but the highest chance is in the evening Fave villager/NPC: Colton, Lobo Fave Ac Game: New Leaf A little about you: My AC passion started with ACWW and I also love Pokémon (Eevee is my fav) and other RPGs like Skyrim and Fallout. I also love my pets (I have a lot^^), reading books and draw some stuff. I’m a student and study the science of language and and literature (but mostly german literature).

Hannah 👑 Nickname: Han 👑 Age: 24 👑 Birthday: Feb 7th 👑 Timezone: GMT/BST 👑 Best Availability: Evenings and Weekends 👑 Fave Villager/NPC: Chrissy & Cookie, Celeste 👑 Fave AC Game: New Leaf 👑 A little about you: My favourite Pokemon has always been and will always be Vulpix, so when Alolan Vulpix was revealed I lost my shit. I have anime, I write fanfiction, I write stories and edit for a living, I play a lot of other games like League of Legends, World of Warcraft, Persona, Bloodborne - you name it I've probably played it, I love sunflowers and roses, Sailor Moon is my life and aesthetic forever, and finally, I have three cats <3

Jennifer • Nickname: Jen or Jenny • Age: 21 • Birthday: February 9th • Timezone: UK, GMT • Best Availability: Late night • Fave Villager/NPC : Whitney and Skye • Fave AC Game : New leaf • A little about you I work in retail maybe 2 days a week, I love animals, Disney, games, drawing, reading and writing. Im self teaching guitar and writing songs as a hobby. Tryng to be a vegetarian which is going well, haven't ate meat in a week, yay. The tv shows I like vary in type, I like: The walking daed, Once upon a time and A series of unfortunate events. Movies I like are mostly Disney , the lion king most of all. I also love animals , especially my dog Amber. I do hope to run my own business to rehalibitate pets and wild animals to find homes and re release the healed ones back into the wild. I also appreciate kind and loyal people 💜

Mollie 💖 Nickname: MolflakeMagic (my main gamer tag & online name) 💚 Age: 19 💖 Birthday: December 1st 💚 Timezone: GMT / BST (UK) 💖 Best Availability: Currently Afternoons through to Night unless I'm with family or my boyfriend :3 💚 Fave Villager / NPC: Goldie!! 😍😊 💖 Fave AC Game: Animal Crossing City Folk 😍😊 💚 A little about me: I'm generally very goofy and always looking to make people laugh and smile. I'm currently preparing to move to Nottingham to study at University in September, so essentially preparing to be an official adulty adult xD I play lots of League in my spare time but also love to design on New Leaf, and I'm currently working on completing all the collections for the museum. I also love to dance and I'm also currently starting to learn Japanese :3 When not with my goofball boyfriend or at home, you can usually find me at my grandparents with my doggy Poppy 😍😊

Panyia 🎀 Nickname: Pan/Panini/Pancakes 🎀 Age: 20 🎀 Birthday: Feb. 16th 🎀 Timezone: PST (soon to be HST) 🎀 Best Availability: Depends, usually 12pm - 10 pm 🎀 Fave Villager/NPC: Coco/Celeste 🎀 Fave AC Game: New Leaf 🎀 A little about you: I’m soon-to-be engaged, going to be moving in with my partner very soon. Im usually playing any Harvest Moon game series when I’m not playing AC and helping out with the group. I’ve played other games but it’s too many to name lol. I love watching anime too! They all help me with my mental health and depression, which I try not to let them get to me when I’m helping out with our group ❤️

Ruth 🌸Age: 21 🌸Birthday: 25th December 🌸Timezone: BST/GMT 🌸Best Availability: Usually evenings or any day that I’m off work 🌸Fave villager/NPC: Apple and my fave npc is Kicks ❤️ 🌸Fave AC Game: New Leaf 🌸 A Little about me: I have lived in the south west part of the uk all of my life with my parents and older brother. I love cats so much, I used to have a black cat called Twinkle but he was very ill and passed away from a heart murmur at only 7 years old. I now have a calico called Poppy who I love very much ❤️ I have suffered from anxiety and depression, with the occasional severe migraine (to the point I passed out) since 2013 (but thank goodness I’m nowhere near as bad now) I also love an incredible KPop band called BTS (you may have heard me talk about them already 😛) and playing games like Animal Crossing and Zelda ❤️ Sorry I’m rambling now 😂😂

#admin list #admins #adminlist #acnladdicts #acaddicts

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homicidal-slvt · 9 months

Text

"Was It Worth It?"

MDNI

Leon S Kennedy x F!Reader

Warnings: Heavy Angst, Death, Alcohol Mention, Older!Leon (Pictured Vendetta Leon), Hurt + No Comfort

He's made mistakes plenty of times- he's only human. Yet he carries them endlessly in the back of his mind, always yet another corpse lining his path through the world.

You get used to it.

At least that's what he tells himself and others. Is it really true though? Can anyone ever actually get used to something like this?

Sometimes he finds himself running after things he should probably let go- but how could he? Searching for the pieces of him that went missing in all the wrong places.

You looked at him gently and handled him as though he was an injured dove rather than a damaged man. It was something he wasn't sure he could truly get used too.

Fearing the rapids of his own mind may drag you under with him.

I need to let you go.

Isn't it true that- if you love something you set it free? How could he risk clipping your angel wings with his sharp edges. Surely you deserve better.

Your fingers dance along his skin tracing little shapes up his arm, a simple smile on your face as a soothing silence hangs in the air.

It's nice sometimes to just be quiet and let the sense of safety wrap you like a cozy blanket. It's true when you first met Leon it was his corny sense of humor that caught your attention- then those captivating blue eyes that sucked you in like a whirlpool.

It wasn't long though before you truly got to know him, the more you learned the more you craved his presence. His roughened edges and pain didn't frighten you- the dark cloud hovering over him didn't make you shy away.

You stuck around.

The peace you brought him only made him question even more though how the hell he could ever be worthy of someone so wonderful.

A harsh tug on his heart as he stared at the few small things left behind. His home wasn't a home anymore, the warmth you brought to it now gone.

You came and lit up his life and now that light has fizzled out leaving an even darker void in it's wake.

Blood.

He sometimes could still feel it on his hands, the texture and warmth of it... The way your eyes met his and it looked almost as though you hated him.

Hated that he was the one that came to save you.

"I don't need your fucking help!!!"

Your words echo inside his head as he vividly remembers the way you yanked away from his touch... You were in so much pain yet you had acted as though his hands were what burned you most.

Your eyes are locked onto the newly bought bottle of whiskey, his voice seemingly more distant now.

"It's just not going to work."

Your gaze cut up to meet his.

"And why not? Are you still in love with her?"

"No. Of course not."

The insinuation truly stabbed him deeply, how could he ever think about anyone else while he was with you? Then again... He wasn't exactly telling you why he was dumping you either. Giving you no choice but to come up with your own conclusions.

"Then why, Leon?"

"This relationship just isn't right."

"Bullshit."

There was a certain venom in your tone as you abruptly stood up, his stance immediately tensing up more as he wasn't used to your anger being aimed at him... What made his throat tighten and him look away from you though was the undeniable hurt in your eyes.

"God as my witness- I never want to see you again."

Did you really mean that? He wasn't sure and neither were you. Rage and hurt boiling over into tears and harsh words. You bumped into the table sending the bottle of whiskey to the floor- in complete honesty you didn't give a single shit as it spilled.

After all- this isn't home to you anymore. He has to clean up the mess.

He laid down on the couch while holding your sweater, the scent of your perfume lingering on the fabric.

The guilt he felt over everything that happened wasn't like anything else. Every part of him just wanted to scream- yet he didn't.

Instead he stayed in place feeling hollow, past events haunting him at every turn.

You were weak- there was no way you'd make it. Not in time.

Limp in his arms as he carried you- adrenaline and pure desperation fuelling him. He couldn't let go of you, he just couldn't. He couldn't leave you there even though in the back of his mind he knew.

"Leon... I have to ask you something."

"After I get you out of here."

Those words irritated you as you felt the impending end closing in on your soul.

"Was it worth it?"

You just asked anyway- no time to waste as death wrapped its unforgiving arms around you. He glanced down at your face as you grew further away- heart in his chest felt as though it had stopped as well in that moment.

"Was what worth it? Keep talking. Hey- stay with me. Come on. We're almost there just-"

At some point you have to learn to let go. Stop running after something you will never catch. Don't search for your missing pieces in the wrong places.

How does one learn though? Trial and error.

Even now thinking back on your question as he attempts to drag himself back into life- force some form of normalcy to take place again.

He doesn't fully understand- doesn't know why those had to be your last words. Why he couldn't save you. Why he couldn't give you a proper answer then in there. Why-

Stop torturing yourself.

But he can't- can he? Deep down he knows the answer to your question. Perhaps he can finally give it to you one day.

'Was it worth it?'

'No. Of course not.'

{Guys I was gonna finish some fluff but finished this instead I'm so sorry lmao enjoy a random angst Leon one shot}

{@scar-crossedlvrs }

{More Content}

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon kennedy angst #leon scott kennedy angst #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil angst #vee's resident evil works

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