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#this has become a post about his smile because this site didn't like the man's bulge after all
vader-anakin · 8 months
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Sebastian Stan as Frank - Endings, Beginnings (2019)
For Ashe
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A Night In Nice
Chapter One
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Based on this ask and made into a separate post due to being two parts
Rated Explicit (for later on)
Ao3
Chapter Two
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When you asked him to run away with you, you meant it wholeheartedly. If he didn't want to stay, you weren't going to force him to stay. You only want him to escape this place and start anew.
No one has ever looked out for him, maybe his father but that felt obligated rather than willing. Yet, on that fateful day, when the voice in his mind killed every miner and nearly killed him too, he took you up on that offer.
Now here he is in France, specifically in a town called Nice, with a woman he finds himself in love with. Unbelievable given his past, he thought he could never love anything outside of his greed and freedom. Yet, here he is fiddling with an engagement ring he saved up for.
Crazy. God, if this a dream and he laying dying in that damn cave then let him stay there slowly dying rather than wake up from this dream.
He quickly hides the ring in his pants when he hears you enter the house.
The home has a common layout, simple decorations, and a few personal touches, cozy and ours as you told him.
Norton works for an old man at his farm helping out and such. Good pay and no digging for coal. You work at the local bakery with a farmer's daughter.
“You're home early!” Cheerful and smiling brightly, Everything okay?” Going to the kitchen to set down the bag of bread in your arms.
“Uh, yeah,” Assisting you and looking at the bread now on the table, “Free bread day or something?”
“Heh, no! I made these for us! I know you like toasted bread for breakfast so…” You show him the misshapen bread, “I tried.”
You are… Kind to put it mildly.
When you first met him, it was after a brawl in which a few of the older miners jumped him for a single damn coin he got from payroll. He lost his coin, sure, but he made every single last one of them earn it. He was badly hurt and was carried into the infirmary with another guy.
At the time, you were the only female and a nurse on that mining site. The doctor left after not being paid, so technically you were the nurse and the head doctor. It wasn't easy for you, that is for sure given half these guys were scum.
Still, you did your job. With a smile too, for those deserving.
You fixed his nose, patched up his cuts, gave him something for the pain, and even got him something other than bread and turning milk. Soup for the soul, you called it, something you made because the chef there was a joke. It was mostly vegetables but it was something.
He was cold to you back then even when he was often your patient because of all the fighting. Norton didn't want friends, didn't care about anyone but himself, and he certainly didn't care to have some woman being nice to him. Bad enough you touched him when doing checkups and patching him up.
However, as much as he was an asshole, he wasn't fucking like these others. He ain't no saint but wasn't one to think just because you are the only woman there, means you are for the picking. He recalls that tussle (the man was drunk so it wasn't much of a fight), how grateful you were.
So grateful you baked him something as a thank you, a treat that was too sweet for him. He still ate it even though he complained about the sweetness.
You were, are, the brightest light in his life.
And it was dark… Becoming darker when the voice in his head started getting louder and louder.
The darkness nearly swallowed him whole.
Until you found him buried alive and willing to die.
God, he swears, the tears from your eyes seemed to never stop as you called out to him. Never did want to see that again.
“Norton, try this!” Preparing your ingredients to make a special pie you learned today! A shepherd's pie that is supposedly very filling and good! You seasoned the meat the night before and after setting up, you just finished cooking the meat.
You like this. Being a housewife. Though you are not married to him, you gave him the housewife treatment. Cooking, cleaning, cuddles (more like you being his weighted blanket).
Norton felt loved, knew he was loved, yet the darkness lurks in the shadows when he is alone with his thoughts as you sleep by his side.
While he sits in the kitchen simply enjoying your presence and the way you talk about anything and everything under the sun, he is playing with the ring in his pocket.
“Oh, hm, it needs more garlic.”
“It's fine.”
“No, no, sir-no-taste-outside-of-salt-and-pepper. Trust me on this.”
He shakes his head chuckling at you.
“She will leave you like all the others.”
He frowns as the voice mocks him.
“Poor flower thinks a domestic life in some other country will save you. We both know this is temporary.”
No, he likes this life!
“Being poor? You barely could afford her a ring! If we found that gold—”
“Norton?”
“Huh?” Not aware you are in front of him, “Need something?”
“You spaced out, hun.” Reaching to touch him though he shook his head. “If you need space, dinner will be done in an hour.” You understand, you show patience.
He stands up, tall and bulky, taking your hands and placing them on his face. His eyes close as feels your warmth. A gentle ‘thank you’ slips from his lips. You tell often he has no need to thank you but he does it anyway.
Rubbing circles on his cheeks before going back to cooking, you didn't want to pull away. You never do. He leaves the kitchen and you return to your task.
The sound of the bedroom door creaking open and then closing.
The best ways he found to stay in the present are to touch the things in the house, somethings things that you have made in the past attempts of crafting, or to smell the one perfume you love. A reminder of the good things he has.
Clean shirts, new shoes, even his better breathing, the window he can open at any time to gaze out into the back of the house. The outside cats that lurk around the house (his fault truthfully he could not stand seeing the little guys starving) playing with the blanket they stole from the laundry line and you did not have the heart to take back.
It is a perfect life, a fairytale ending to a nightmare he was living, yet the voice is bitter and cruel with words that plague him when you are not in sight.
… If only that was the case completely…
Recently, you have been the topic the moment Norton decided he wants to marry you. Sure it is pretty unseemly to be living with a woman and not married to her. Sure he has not had sex with you but you gave him so much of your patience. The love you gave him so freely.
The ring he takes out of his pocket to examine weighs heavy, he is trying to think of how to bring it up— To ask you. The words simply escape him, his chest hurts and his throat closes.
Shit, this looks so easy in those plays he saw once as a kid. Broke into the theater to pickpocket some people, all to get his father some medicine.
The past.
All in the past.
The knock on the door drew away the shadows encroaching ready to ensnare him.
“Dinner is ready.”
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martamatta95 · 2 years
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Part 2 of the AU inspired by the Pixar movie Turning Red (find the link of part 1 at the bottom of the post).
I am thinking of writing these little clips here on Tumblr, if I ever manage to put an end to this idea I will post it on Archivie for Our Own (I only publish on that site if my stories are complete).
Cobb doesn't know why he has this curse, but he remembers perfectly the first time it happened.
He was 12 or 13, his bones and muscles ached, his body was feverish, but the Masters didn't care. A slave who does not work is a waste of money.
He remembers the little fingers that extracted the silicax from the rock, the arms that could barely lift the heavy pickaxe, the work done extremely slowly.
His workmates worried about him, Taanti at the time had shorter braids hanging off his head and far fewer wrinkles on his face.
Being the squad leader of their group of slaves, he had to guide them and keep them away from the whips of their Masters.
"CB", he calls it referring to his number: CB-75550. They are this, numbers and letters, they have no names.
"Cobb", the nickname is said more sweetly, "The Chief is coming, try to show you that you can hold the pickaxe or he will whip you, I promise you that at the end of the shift I'll take you to the infirmary".
Cobb nods, Taanti is a good man, but he can't foresee everything.
When the chief of their section comes to check, the Weequey's idea was a good one, except that today he's in a bad and picky mood starting to check every grain of silicax they had mined.
Needless to say, he notices Cobb's condition and drags him out of tunnel for the hair.
It was broad daylight and the Chief scolded him about his laziness and weakness, as he dragged him from the inside to the outside of the mine, Cobb could see sorry faces turned in his direction.
"CB-75550! Still the same lazy troublemaker! I bet you ingested something noxious or toxic on purpose to avoid work".
The chief drags him by the hair, while the child cannot see anything, his mind confused and the skin more and more itchy and hot. A warmth that is not the fault of Tatooine's suns.
The Chief takes him to the square of punishment, as the slaves call him because it was the place where the blood flowed.
A small square in the middle of the rocky walls where the child is thrown to the ground, at the moment there are only the two of them in the place.
"Take off your shirt, brat", says the Chief, taking the whip from his belt.
Cobb stares at the blue sky and thinks of the blue... Blue that becomes a beautiful blue, blond hair that goes down to the shoulders... Such a sweet and beautiful smile addressed only to him...
"Buir...", the child whispers extending his hand towards the sky, "Buir, Yaim'ol...".
The man with the whip snorts irritably and a first blow hits the small body.
Cobb groans in pain and shakes her head as the heat on his skin increases.
"Buir!" he screams in despair, the unfamiliar word running through his tongue like blood on his back.
Another whiplash and the baby's body writhes.
Tal'galar, a voice that seemed light years away whispers in his ear, Aliit ori'shya tal'din.
Cobb blinks and time seems to stand still, he's no longer on Tatooine crying and bleeding, he's in an unfamiliar room. The ground he walks on is made of rock and white sand, the air is colder here.
Before him is a familiar-looking statue of a man in armor, Cobb's heart filling with sadness for no reason. The scar on his head, that robs him of the memory of his past, throbs like a violent reminder.
Mando'ad draar digu.
Various voices that sound like one surround him. Cobb is afraid as he feels cold, invisible fingers touch him in an attempt to comfort him.
The statue holds in his hands, at chest height, a white/silver egg with a deep blue vein.
Cabur, Mando'ade... mandokar...
Cobb is completely attracted to the egg and is certain that it is vibrating with a pulsating and powerful energy.
Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum
This last sentence is uttered by a female voice and Cobb winces as he hears it.
"Buir...", the unknown word burns in his tongue and little tears come out of his eyes.
He gets closer to the statue and the egg. Both have a symbol, the statue engraved on the chest and the blue veins on the egg form the sign. A circle that looks like a stylized face, an inverted three-pointed crown at the top and two curved lines at the bottom that look like eyes that are weeping.
Tome'tayl, aliit
The egg moves and begins to hatch causing Cobb to jump back in fear, but something sings in his blood.
Jate'kara.
A creature pops out of its shell so small it can fit on the palm of his hand. It shakes her head in confusion and then stares at him.
Cobb takes a step back, as the voices scream in his head in that strange language, the creature leaps towards him and as he approaches it grows bigger and more imposing, until it collides with his chest and feels it melt within himself.
What the mine guards find a few hours later is a child with silver hair that they identify as CB-75550. They don't know what happened to his hair and find him passed out with his back covered in blood.
The Chief section of the child, they find him dead with a torn throat and covered with scratches and bites. The guards immediately thought of a Tusken attack and some Massiffs.
*
Din slowly wakes up from his bed, the scent of bacon and eggs filling his nostrils.
He blinks at the ceiling and then events of the past night come back to him. Cobb missing, leaving the house in the middle of the storm, following in the footsteps and then...
The breath remains in Din's throat as he thinks of the imposing creature, the fangs and the fire that he spit from his mouth...
Mythosaur... he was really a Mythosaur...
"Cobb...", he gasps in disbelief and then wrestles with the sheets off the bed.
He realizes he's naked and doesn't know how. Yes, he had sex with Cobb last night, but he got dressed to look for him.
Din dresses hastily as he thinks of the shape of his Cyar'ika writhing and growing into that of the legendary creature. This is absurd and impossible!
He rushes into the kitchen and stares at the scene.
Cobb is making breakfast like every morning humming, as if the past night never happened.
Grogu is sitting in his high chair by the dining table sipping some fruit juice while he is waiting for his breakfast.
The Marshal place some toast on the table leaving a slice in Grogu's little fingers.
Cobb turns and smiles as he observes Din, "Good morning, my hunter".
Din stares at the scene, the sandstorm has passed and the sky is clear outside. The sun's rays illuminate the Marshal's hair, he stares at the baggy night clothes hanging from his lean but muscular figure.
It's beautiful, like every morning, Din's heart beats fast and he would love to kiss him.
He then he thinks of the creature, 3 if not 5 times the size of a human being. The powerful legs suitable for running for miles or climbing the most difficult walls or killing...
The long, massive tail that could gut an entire spaceship with one blow. Din remembers the crests from the middle of the neck to the tip of the tail, the long and lethal teeth/horns at the sides of the mouth that could effortlessly pierce a concrete wall accompanied by skin as hard as beskar.
Cobb is opening his mouth and saying something, but Din doesn't listen to him, he sees the fire coming out of those beautiful lips of him. A jet of fire so powerful that, by comparison, the Mandalorian's flamethrower is a toy for children.
"Din...", Cobb gently grabs his hands, "Love, what is it? Did you have a bad dream? Are you feeling sick?".
Instinctively, the Mandalorian breaks free from the Marshal's grip by taking a step back. The hurt and surprised look on Cobb's face really hurts to see.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?" Din's voice is a whisper.
The marshal frowns in confusion, "What are you talking about?".
"You know what I'm talking about! Mythosaur!".
Cobb's expression is lost, "ok, honey", he raises his arms in confusion, "What the hell is a Mythosaur?!".
Din opens his mouth, then closes it again. He thinks about the previous night, was it a dream?
Then he remembers Cobb's condition the day before: he was feverish and tired-looking. His body on alert, like an animal with its guard up, flinching at any noise or event. And when they had sex in the evening, he was indomitable and insatiable.
His eyes yellow gold, then changed to the usual hazelnut. Finally, Cobb's warning not to leave the house no matter what happened that night.
"Din", the marshal gently grabs his wrists and this time the Mandalorian does not withdraw, "Calm down and tell me about the dream you had tonight".
Din blinks in confusion, "Dream... it wasn't a dream, Cobb! It was real, I'm not an idiot! And...".
He turns around to find the helmet and there was no trace of sand on it, not even on the clothes he put on during the night. What the hell is going on?!
"It was not a dream, I saw you in the Dunes...", Din recounts every detail of what he saw, while he observes Cobb's hazel eyes with extreme attention, looking for a trace of lie or deception. He just finds confusion...
"Din, it's a dream", Cobb finally says with a shake of his head, "As much as I'd like to be a Mandalorian mythological creature, I don't think it's possible to transform into something like that".
"But yesterday you weren't well...".
"My bones always hurt when a sandstorm comes, the stronger the more my bones and muscles bother me".
"You told me to stay indoors whatever happened during the storm".
"Of course yes, you are impulsive and I didn't want you to hurt if you felt something collapse and rush you out with the sand that would have scraped the flesh off your bones".
Din opens his mouth and then closes it again not really knowing what to say, he knows what he saw and doesn't understand why Cobb wants to deny everything.
They've been together for a year, since after the war against the Pykes, but they haven't...
There has always been something strange! Sometimes Cobb returned from his solitary desert hunts always sweaty and dirty, with broken-necked prey not killed by a blaster shot.
Sometimes it happened that they saw bandits holed up somewhere and, when he went to investigate, there were only the remains of those camps littered with blaster shots and traces of a powerful flamethrower. On those occasions Cobb would walk away from home saying that he would go for a walk around town to check vaporizers or run small errands, leaving Grogu and Din home alone.
Cobb heals quickly, faster than anyone Din knows, and from wounds where he cannot heal without permanent damage. When he was injured by Cade Bane, they were all convinced that he was going to lose his arm and Boba had called a doctor who specializes in cybernetic prostheses, but when the doctor was about to start the job, he found that the wound was almost completely healed and not was permanent damage.
Din realizes that he is a fool for not having noticed all these details, perhaps the credit is also due to Cobb who has always been discreet. Why didn't he tell him the truth? Why is he going out of his way to make him believe it is a dream?!
Then the Mandalorian understands, he finally sees the fear hidden behind those eyes that he loves so much.
What would happen if the Mythosaur was known? Din should guess this for himself...
Any Mandalorian in the galaxy would hunt him, let alone collectors of rare creatures or scientists who want to get their hands on that hard skin like beskar.
Din sighs and then kisses the man he loves and can not help but love him even more.
"I love you, Cyar'ika", Din said and deep down he knew that the marshal has always been special in many ways.
Cobb is the strongest and bravest man we have ever met and he makes him happy. He and Grogu are his aliit, his Clan and will do everything to protect them. Cobb has endured the untold suffering of his life and has permanent marks on his back, Din understands why he wants to keep the Mythosaur a secret and wants him to understand that he is here to support him and will not abandon him no matter what.
"I love you too, my Mando", replies the marshal hugging him and returning the kiss.
"Cobb", Din speaks seriously, looking into his eyes, "You can tell me anything, okay? You are my runi, my soul and I would never hurt you".
The Marshal is really surprised by Din's words and nods, "Thank you for your trust".
The Mandalorian walks away and is about to freshen up when Cobb adds a sentence.
"When I'm ready, it's up to me to decide, you have to understand that it's not easy...", he says, returning to his breakfast, signaling that the subject is closed for the moment.
So it is, when Din comes back washed and with clean clothes, they resume their normal routine as if nothing had happened.
*
"Are you sure?" Asks the man in blue armor.
The bandit nods, pointing to the imposing creature in the images.
"I was there when he attacked our group a few months ago. I'm the only survivor, that monster killed all my friends!"
"How did you survive?", This time it is the red-haired woman who asks.
"I pretended to be dead and then slipped out of the cave when the monster was distracted breathing fire at my friends".
"Wait! Spit fire?!", exclaims the astonished man.
"Yes, Mandalorian, you got it right", grins the bandit.
Bo-Katan stands in silence looking at the images with extreme attention and interest, his eyes fixed on the color of the Mythosaur's skin.
"And what would you like for this information and images?".
"Just a small fee, my Lady, I know that you Mandalorians might be interested in having information about that creature. After all, the skull of the beast is your symbol".
The red-haired woman is thinking deeply, part of her tells him it's a fake, the Mythosaur existed thousands of years ago, another part of her thinks back to the legends her father told him as a child.
An old prophecy uttered by the founder of their clan, a prophecy passed down from generation to generation.
When our people are divided and our world devastated, the Darksaber will be lost among the stars, until a worthy bearer chooses.
The Mythosaur, born of our blood and the blood of a Force Knight, will awaken to lead the new Mand'alor and unite our people.
Bo-Katan's thoughts are interrupted by Koska's stormy entry into the room, the dark-haired woman seems to growl at the bandit and pushes him to the ground, revealing a bag full of credits to the other two Mandalorians.
"He has sold this information to many other people!" Growls Koska and then shows her companions different bounty on the Mythosaur from various sources.
As you might have guessed, such a creature was coveted by anyone.
"Lies!" shouts the bandit.
Bo-Katan clenches his fists and shortly after a shot from Blaster is lodged in the criminal's smoking forehead.
"What do we do, Bo?", asks Axe, "It could be a fake".
The red-haired woman shakes her head, her heart in an abyss and thinks of a child who disappeared long ago in Sundari.
"We have to go to Tatooine and investigate".
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paintmearainbow · 4 years
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What Is Love ?
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Love.
Love means different things to different people. Some people say love is making your partner happy and seeing them happy makes you happy . But love, is actually a figment of our imaginations. In a way, love is selfish and makes us lose our independence. You make the other person happy to keep yourself happy, and you become dependent and vulnerable. It's a somewhat like a shared dream. And until one person decides to wakeup, and that dream, albeit fun while it lasted, becomes a living nightmare
1 YEAR AGO
For Harry and y/n; sneaking out of premiers and award shows,buying tacos and eating them at 3 AM was love. For them, love was dancing in the kitchen to Elvis and baking with each other. Love was watching horror movies in makeshift tents, snacking on caramel popcorns and cans of soda; all while making fun of Harry's "those dumb bitches" in the movie. Love was falling asleep in each others arms and reading each other books. It was dressing up as Disney characters and acting out scenes from their favourite animations. It was etheral, perfect. Almost too perfect too be true
People always said "Love will fizzle out. One of you will get bored." Harry and y/n didn't listen. They burned so fast, so bright and didn't realise that their spark too, like all blazed and sparks from lighted matches, had extinguished. One second it was burning so brightly, and the next, it was gone
..............................................................................................
"When was the last time you spoke to him ?" asked y/n's sister.
" A week ago" a distraught y/n replied. "He barely has time to even talk to me on the phone, let alone show me the sights and explore the places with him via facetime"
For a brief moment, she allowed herself to close her eyes and all the memories flashed through her eyes, like a movie roll, playing over and over agai
FLASHBACK
"Y/N !" exclaimed Harry, the golden flecks in his eyes dancing with joy. Oh how she longed to see him, feel him and be with him in real life , rather than on a screen. Yet she was eternally grateful for Harry for never making her feel left out from the tour experience, he always made sure to show her around, even if it was only on a screen, while giving tour guide commentary in a horribly fake American accent.
"You're in for a treat ! We're going to see the Louvre today. Come on an enjoy the sited with Harry's Tour Experiences"
Y/n couldn't stop laughing.
Being an art fanatic, she giving Harry detailed descriptions of the art, while all he did was turn it inti a joke. His put on accent stood out when he kept saying " Oh shucks ! Here's another painting of a few women and men fighting and eating." He termed an entire style of art; renaissance art as "men and women barely dressed fighting and eating". He made a few sly comments on how y/n would look lovely in that dress. It was so wonderful and each of these virtual trips was marked with his signature end. Going to a park, and eating the same food.
His laughter was contagious and y/n loved it. She wondered how she got so lucky, so blessed to have hazza in her life.
She never thought that this love, would eventually fizzle.
end of flashback
Now she was lucky if he spoke to her for 5 minutes. Even those 5 minutes were filled with her talking and him showing least interest in what she had to say. She doubted whether he even listened.
Today, however was a low blow. It was y/n' bday. had it been any other year. Harry would've made this day perfect. They had been together since they were 18. The first year, he bought her 18 gifts on her birthday. The subsequent year, he got her 19 and so on. He would make her breakfast in bed and wake her up with showers of kisses and a "Good Morning, Happy Birthday Darling."
Today however, at 7 PM , she was yet to have him acknowledge that it was her birthday. She was yet to have any sign of news from him at all. She illusioned herself, thinking that maybe he had interviews to attend.
Her sister, however, tired with y/n's moping, said" You're coming over with your friends to Club 22 this night or else I wont speak to you. I don't want you to spend your birthday moping around"
With great difficulty, y/n was persuaded by her friends to go clubbing. The loud music, the drinks and the dim lights were never y/n's scene. Yet, for the sake of her friends, she fixed up a smile on her face and tried to enjoy, trying her best to forget than Harry's call still hadn't come.
.......
It was 10 PM and the party was in full swing. y/n's friends were drunk, so drunk. Everyone around her was laughing, drinking and joking. Meanwhile, a new disturbing thought had settled in y/n's head. What if he got into and accident ? What if he's really sick ? She was ridden with anxiety and couldn't get Harry off her mind, until that one fateful message from Nezza, her best friend, Harry's PA, through whom they had met, sent her that message. When y/n's phone lit up and she scarmbled to see the text, hoping it was Harry, she did not know it would change her life permanently.
The text was simple. "I'm so so sorry honey; you deserve to know" It was attached with a single file of pictures.
She subconciously knew what had happened. She had seen all the signs, yet chose to ignore them, not wanting to get up from her dream. The reduced duration of phone calls ultimately leading up to a call a month, the regular excuses, coming home late, half hearted kisses, they all added up. For a split second, y/n wanted to think that it was something else; maybe harry was too drunk or had passed out in a bar.
The message to forever to download. It was so slow and painfully excruciating. It was like the calm before the storm. The slow before the fast. The light drizzle before the thunderstorm. When the picture finally loaded; her heart shattered ever so fast. The pain she felt was numbing, yet somewhere in her mind, she was gald that Harry was safe.
There was Harry, his arm around the small waist of the redhead, his fingers entwined in hers. The same fingers which ran through y/n's hair multiple times, were now woven in another's hand. She thought her heart couldnt break more.
Fate was not kind to y/n.
She swiped to see the next picture, and she wasn't sure how, or whether it was even possible, but her heart further broke. Harry was kissing her in the booth, their booth, in Alessandro's the place he had her first date with y/n.
Fate had evil plans for y/n.
Tears streaming down her face, the makeup for the night ruined, y/n looked around for her sister and friends but they were nowhere to be seen. The only thing glowing right now was her glitzy dress, the one she had been forced into. Unable to take it anymore, she ordered an uber and left.
Fate wasn't kind to y/n at all
The minute she left the club, she was blinded with lights, the flashes from the camera, and the shouts from the reporters
" How do you feel about Harry cheating on you on tour ?"
"Did you expect this ? How do you react to Harry kissing a supermodel, younger than you!"
Y/n wanted to scream, but keeping her emotions in she pushed through the sea of people, got into her uber, gave her address and broke down.
She cried and cried. The uber driver tried to ask her what was wrong but she couldn't stop crying. she wanted the pain to go away. she wanted to cry. But most of all, she wanted Harry to tell her that it wasn't true and hold her in his arms and tell her it's alright.
But it wasn't. it wasn't alright. Far from it.
The next morning after an extremly broken sleep, y/n awoke. All the event's from last night wre remembered and her eyes started to water again. She switched on her phone to see the hashtag #y/ndeservesbetter and #harryandy/nareover trending. She also so 100 missed calls, voicemails and texts from Harry but chose to ignore them.
Y/n was raised to be strong. She spent most of childhood see her mom struggle to make meets end. She had seen the worst. She was strong. She went over to the mirror and saw her reflection and realised that she looked a mess. She took 3 deep breaths, washed her face, and masked her emotions, just as she did way back in high school, before she met Harry, before he changed her.
She went down and suddenly the apartment door opened. There stood the man who she loved, the man who had broken her heart, the one who still held her heart, no matter how broken it was.
He pleaded with her to forgive him. He begged, cried, said it was a one time mistake, and he regretted it, that he loved her; but y/n turned a deaf ear to his pleas. Their love had fizzled out, and she was blinded by affection not to realise it earlier. And as the saying goes " Once a cheater, always a cheater." Y/n wasn't taking any more risks. She put on a strong facade, made up her mind and left, leaving a crying Harry on the porch.
She wasn't over him, far from it. She was so broken, yet showed no signs. She had calm expresssion, yet her thoughts were chaotic. But she knew what was best and she knew this was the right thing to do. She had to take the lessons from this experience and move on, just like her mother had taught her. Dreams end, no matter how amazing it is, no matter how much you want to hold on and live it, and this, her perfect dream, had also come to an end.
So, what is love ?
A dream ? A nightmare ? Soemthing too good to be true?
Maybe all it is, is an illusion. A fairytale. Or maybe it is the truth, because truth teaches us lessons and so does love. i guess it's one of those things which just has no answers.
author's note
AND THATS A WRAP. I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING. it's something which definitely shouldnt be forgive . this the first ever imagine I've posted on my new tumblr. Please send feedback. Hope you enjoyed it. Reblog. What are your thoughts? i would love to hear them. Send requests for more imagines.
i should be studying but eh.
keep dreaming
ashu.
(here's a random B99 gif for no reason)
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seelenvollpilot · 5 years
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Here, laid out a small oneshot. While I post here because I have difficulty with uploading to the site. Cherik and Christine. This is their first lesson.)
It was already late evening when Christine was returning to the room under the stage temporarily provided by Jean-Claude. The work is not dusty, but tedious. Her heavy duty costumes lay on her elbow. Reaching the table, she dumped clothes on it, sighing with relief. Here the pebble fell off, it is necessary to embroider it, but here the fabric has gone all together! Yes, there was a lot of work and time was running out. Hanging up the costumes, mentally putting off all worries for tomorrow, Christine remembered the man that she had met two days earlier. On the girl's face flashed a glimpse of reverie. He appeared to her like a spirit, silently stepping on the floor. He admired her voice; about this Christine didn't even dare to dream. He is probably a theatrical person and knows a lot more. The musician, he wears a mask, trying to keep incognito, declares that he doesn't want to teach anyone except her. Right, he is a strange man...
Leaving the skirts and preparing for them boxes of sewing, she sweetly stretched, covering her mouth with her hand. After extinguishing the light everywhere, Christina went to the room with props. There she is today and will spend the night. In crowded but not mad. A pleasant, loved smell of skin and stage make-up hit the nose, causing the shadow of a smile to slip on the girl's face. Finding a candelabrum in the twilight, Christine struck a match and a dim light lit up all around. But suddenly, from the depths of the room, someone's fast breath came, and then a soft voice called her.
- Christine...
The girl shuddered in surprise, looking into a dark corner. Everything froze, plunged into the tangible silence of the night. Slow steps were heard on the floor, and Christine saw how darkness dissipated and the murmuring light revealed a tall figure in a black frock coat. A white mask that opens only the lips and a rounded chin with a small dimple.
-Is it you? - embarrassed by the sudden appearance, Christine lowered her head.
- Goodnight. - the man said, coming closer, but when there were two steps to the girl, he stopped, as if an invisible wall had grown in front of him. - I was not mistaken and found you.
Christine wanted to argue, but something stopped her. Light blue eyes looking at her with awe and slight embarrassment.
- Let's go, - he said, turning to Christine. - we need to hurry. And I so want to devote you to the secrets of Music...
He stopped at the door and looked at the girl. Christina, amazed to the depths of her soul, still stood on the spot, but then she woke up as if from a drowsiness. She hastily pulled off her shawl from the crossbar, and hurried to follow the man. Passing the stairs, the rotunda, a tall dark silhouette and a small bright figure disappeared in the corridor. They did not go for long, the man cautiously warned Christina to be careful. He stopped in front of the high doors.
- I ask you to. - the man leaned slightly, opening the door.
Christine, nodding, walked quickly past, being in the dark. She felt the slightest hesitation in the air and a light breeze. In the distance, a small light began to glow and now two, three such lights flashed on the chandelier candles, reflected in the mirror surface of the piano lid.
- Come on, mademoiselle.
Christine, a little slow, modestly approached the instrument. The man watched her every step, as if noticing something for himself, and from this, it seemed, the air left the lungs faster from excitement. He jerked up his head and, stroking the ruffles that had got out from under his vest, said:
- Christine, do you want to continue? - in a deep voice slipped a spark that runs only in anticipation of something new.
Smiling nervously, the girl nodded and lowered her head, folding her arms.
- Perfectly. - suddenly briskly on the exhale said the man. His hand jerked in a strange gesture, as if he wanted to touch her back. - Then I would like to start playing you something...
Christine watched in amazement as he sat down on the couch at the piano and opened the lid. A light touch of thin fingers to the keys and a soft melody filled all the space around. Something gentle, quiet, having its own charm. The first minutes of the game the man followed his hands, and then raised his head, peering into the eyes of the girl. There was something in those eyes that made Christine look at their expression for a long time, and then hide her gaze in confusion. Good and so sad...
But then the melody ended and Christine regained consciousness from obsession only when the man was beside her.
- I will teach you to sing and develop your voice to unprecedented heights. You will be tired, but believe me, you will become the Music itself...
Touching the fingers of her hand lightly, he led the girl closer to the instrument.
- Position yourself so that I feel comfortable.
Christine stood in the deepening of the piano and crossed her arms on her stomach. But the man was silent.
- To sing well, you need the right position.
- "Singing lessons? Look how she is standing!" - Madame Carlotta’s mocking words surfaced in the girl’s head, and she lowered her eyes shyly.
- Raise your head. Straighten and lower the shoulders. Stretch out.
Christine felt like one of his palm touches her back. Fingers flew up to the chin, forcing an invisible gesture to stretch the neck.
- Relax, Christine. - he was silent, as if he did not dare to say something. - You are too tense. Feel the fullness of peace.
Christine turned around facing the views of a man. Frightened by such closeness, she lowered her eyes and smiled. It could not be hidden; he, too, was embarrassed, correcting her tense posture.
- And now I would like you to sing this line.
He returned for the instrument and sang notes.
Thoughts in the girl's head messed up. She closed her eyes for a moment and turned her head away. His voice was not like everything she had heard before. A little sat down, velvet and incredibly soft. What is this?
Driving off awkward embarrassing thoughts, Christine tried to focus on the notes. He bowed his head and held out his hand in an inviting gesture.
Four first notes... fifth. Her voice suddenly broke. The man looked up, trying to say something, but Christine interrupted him.
- Ah... - she paused, picking up a word. - M-maestro, I do not think that I will succeed.
The girl saw his eyes open, and then quiet, frightening tenderness splashed into them. What struck him so?
- Christine, - he replied after a while. - Do you really think so? Never dare to humiliate yourself. I believe in you. Try again.
He was preparing it for a long time, and Christine felt his indifferent singing and inaudible instructions. Two hours passed completely unnoticed, as if one moment. The exhausted but happy girl breathed a sigh of relief, looking into the teacher's eyes with a smile.
- I think today should be finished. I advise you to drink hot tea so that the next day your voice will be as light as it is today.
He nodded discreetly and turned, heading for the door. But almost at the very exit he was called:
- Maestro, - the girl took hold of her dress and sat down in a cubicle. - Goodnight.
The man bowed his head to the side, but the corners of his lips rose up, and his light blue eyes continued to look with a quiet sadness.
The door slammed behind him and Christina was left alone. What feelings this first real acquaintance, the first lesson caused in her. Maestro. The girl giggled awkwardly, remembering this tall slim figure. For the first time Christine lived in anticipation of a miracle...
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First night at the Asylum
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This has been in my inbox (the old lab's inbox orz) for a looooong time and it's not even the oldest question LOL. I postponed my answer bc I wanted to incorporate some art here and I haven't had the chance to draw Shaun and Lo together in ages but man I feel like answering this after all this time cause their story is important even though it's been eclipsed by the story between Shaun and Ani ;__; (Girl look what a mess you've made smh)
Shaun and Loan's story is gross I'll tell you right away. If you want something cute or even remotely decent and healthy, better go on your way.
That question would actually require me to review all Asphyxia and Asphyxia Unplugged from A to Z, so I guess I'll only cover the encouter, from Loan's perspective here. Trigger warnings : violence, sex, drugs, French, and obscenely long post.
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Loan is 18 when he meets Shaun for the first time. He recently left the family home to move to the big city. After a few weeks in university he realises he has absolutely no interest in pursuing an academic career and drops his literary studies. He begins to live at night and makes a few acquaintances; Madame Charlie, a drag queen and a retired sex worker owning a pub in Camden town quickly takes Loan under her wing and the Ace of Hearts becomes Loan's rehearsal place for him and his newly formed band, Asphyxia. Loan also finds a part time job as an apprentice tattoo artist thanks to his connections ; it amuses him for a while, less boring than uni but he doesn't take it very seriously either. Loan has a brief affair in the end of the year with a guy called Adrian, the only contact he kept from university. Adrian had a brand new kind of stress reliever he would use before his finals, and he generously offered to share some with Loan one night after an okay fuck. That's when Loan takes his first bite in the poison apple. 
It was just a few puffs but the feeling heroin gave him was so amazing it got Loan coming back for more, and more and even more. His growing lust for the substance probably scared Adrian away cause the guy stopped answering Loan's calls eventually. That's when he thought it'd be a good idea to get wasted and drag his skinny ass up to the North of London in the middle of the night to get some by himself. 
He was walking down your typical film noir stinky dark alley when two guys approached him and started to molest him. Loan never knew what sobriety and subtlety meant so he would always go outside dressed like a glam punk whore and it never failed to get him into trouble of course.
Loan fought back quite honourably, he even managed to give a nice black eye to one of his aggressors thanks to his armour ring. But he eventually ended up being kicked to the ground, curling himself up like a louse. He heard the loud barking of a big dog and the beating suddenly stopped. A voice coming from afar shouted across the alley "Aren't ya fucktards supposed to be working?" – Silence. The dog growled.- "'The hell are you lookin at? Get the fuck out of here." They left in a hurry, their tail between their legs. Loan heard the ferocious barks again when the two guys ran away, then he heard the panting breathing of the dog and its claws on the pavement ; it was coming near him. Loan opened an eye and despite his blurry vision he could distinguish the big, drooling face of an adult rottweiler being busy sniffing his jacket.
« Aika. » The dog immediately left Loan alone, going back to its owner’s side. He could see a long shadow stretching on the ground. He was only a few feet away, slowly getting closer.
Loan was still shuddering on the pavement when he saw a hand reaching out to him. His brain was too dizzy from the beating and the alcohol he didn't hesitate one sec before grabbing that hand. He was freezing and that hand was oddly warm. Loan stumbled as he got back on his feet. "Hey, easy there." Then he spat out some blood before finally looking at his accidental saviour. 
And there he was. Shaun Myers. If only Loan had known all the trouble this man would bring upon him he would probably have run away like the devil was chasing him the second he met those eyes. He first noticed his height ; being 6'3'' and always wearing big combat boots Loan wasn't used to have to look up to meet the eyes of whoever he was talking to. 
Shaun shamelessly rose Loan's chin with his hand, wiping some blood off with his thumb, suddenly noticing Loan's pretty features. The dog was staying still, only its tail wriggling slowly.
"You. You're definitely not a whore." He said scrutinizing Lo's bruised face. Loan said nothing. 
"And you're far from home, aren't ya?"
"Kinda." 
"What brings you here?" 
"I don't know. What do you think brings people here?"
The dog didn’t seem very convinced by Loan’s answer and snarled, baring its teeth.
« Aika… » Its owner said, in a low but firm tone. The dog calmed down, sat reluctantly at Shaun’s feet, still visibly suspicious about Loan.
Shaun smiled, amused by Loan’s wit and his dog’s animosity towards him, then he lit up cigarette and Loan was instantly struck by Shaun's bicoloured gaze. Every single detail about his face set his insides on fire. But it only lasted for half a second- when the lighter swallowed back the flame the image got lost into Loan's numb mind and quickly faded into oblivion. 
"Follow me."
Loan followed Shaun for what seemed like an eternity. The streets were poorly lit but he felt like everyone was looking at them -the hobos, the hookers, the creeps at their windows-  it was like everyone was staring at his open lip and smudged makeup. Little did he know that people weren't staring at him because of his looks, but because of the tall dark stranger beside him walking with a huge rottweiler on the loose.
They arrived near what seemed to be an abandoned facility - probably used to be a school a few decades ago- some walls were partly demolished and the area was surrounded by Portakabins covered with graffitis that the builders must've been using by the time they were working on the site but now they were mostly squats for hobos and junkies. Shaun led him to a wobbly spiral service staircase and Loan almost fell a couple times trying to get down. "Watch your step" they ended up in a narrow alley - a smell of puke and liquor in the dry cold air - Shaun locked the staircase behind them as Loan started to hear some noise coming from nearby ; indistinct people chatting, dull basses, other big dogs barking... 
« You wait here. »
He whistled and left with the dog. Loan noticed the animal was strangely calm and didn’t respond when it heard the other dogs barking from afar. Shaun came back five minutes later, without his beast beside him.
"This way."
He led him to the opposite direction the noises were coming from, to what seemed like a fire door. Shaun pushed it and suddenly Loan was overwhelmed by the harsh neon lights and the infernal hubbub saturating the air of what oddly resembled a hospital corridor. "You're gonna stay here or what? Move your ass." The high pitched, crass laughter of a girl almost broke one of Loan's eardrums as Shaun got him into another staircase. Dirty walls covered with obscene caricatures, tags, spray paint, a guy with his hands inside the panties of the girl he was making out with at the third flight of stairs...
They must've been two floors underground when Shaun stopped in front of one of the doors with a red "Keep out" sign on it. While he was searching for  the right  key inside of his hoodie, Loan lost himself contemplating the graffitis. He noticed a used condom sticked to the tread of his boot. "Putain fait chier. Merde." Then a few 'clicks' and the door opened. Shaun held it open for him as Loan got inside. Never in his entire life had he heard basses so fucking loud. He could barely see in front of him. The atmosphere reeked of sex and marijuana. He could glimpse some sweaty naked bodies kissed by the electric blue neons lights as the DJ was blasting the beat even louder. For a second he lost sight of Shaun and bumped into an obscenely obese guy making him spill some of his drink "I'll cut you motherfucker!" Loan felt a hand grabbing his shoulder and taking him away before the guy could do anything "Better not get lost, Alice, we're already late."
"Late for what? What the fuck is this place??" 
"That's the Asylum babe, the only safe place for someone like you."
Loan was probably too wasted to understand that the Asylum was the actual name of this underground Babylon and he would learn later that Shaun wasn't exactly the type to make jokes anyway. 
Crossing the dancefloor of the Asylum was like swimming into the dark waters of the Phlegethon. A long time ago that place used to be an olympic swimming pool, the echo and even the tiles on the walls were still here- but now it was just a gaping black hole swarming with the broken souls of the fallen ones. 
As they arrived near the bar some girl, visibly quite drunk, made her way to Shaun and lasciviously wrapped her arms around his neck, Loan barely saw her murmuring a word to his ear before Shaun pushed her away with a rare violence. She fell on a  guy who was sitting at the bar, spilling all the drinks and breaking some of the glasses. Her head hit the counter as she fell down, her ankles twisted in what must've been an awfully painful position. Loan stared at her unconscious body in shock - Shaun didn't even flinch when he brushed her off and started to make his way upstairs, without even looking back. "You coming or what?" It was only now that Loan actually considered whether he should really follow that guy or not. He looked at that girl - he could read the words she was muttering on her lips "help me... One hit... Just one fucking hit..." as a some blood was running down her forehead.
Loan shook his head and climbed up the stairs. Some fucking stairs again. Everyone was staring at him, was staring at Shaun, but Loan was honestly too busy staring at Shaun's ass through his Levi's to notice any of that. 
Five minutes later this whole freak show seemed like a distant dream; the room where Shaun had taken Loan was quiet, so quiet it was hard to believe it was actually located in the same building. But here it was ; low ceiling, dim lighting, nothing on the walls where the yellowish white paint was partly bloated because of past inundations, no windows, just one queen size bed with messy sheets, a coffee table with an ashtray filled with cigarettes butts, a door half opened on what seemed to be a bathroom, and one big wardrobe facing the bed. 
"Make yourself at home." 
He sat on the bed as Shaun took off his jacket, beanie and hoodie, tossing them on the chair by the coffee table. Loan was ogling at each of his movements with impunity ; he was way too fucked up to give a damn about decorum. 
"I'll be back in a minute."
Less than a minute later Shaun was back into the room, opening his big hand under Loan's nose. A tiny freezer bag, containing a tiny amount of what could've easily been mistaken for flour or icing sugar.
"Your poison, Snow White."
Loan took the bag, observed it in the light of the bedside lamp as if he had any fucking clue about what he was doing. 
"That's 80£."
"80£??"
Shaun sighed "Jesus, you first timers are the worst. If you don't have the money I'm taking that back, also do I need to mention the house doesn't take credit cards nor cheques?"
"Fine." Loan glared at him shoving the bills into that greedy hand. Shaun hastily put the money inside his jeans' back pocket.
"Now do you wanna fuck?"
"Excuse me?"
"I said do you wanna fuck, like me and you."
"I-I'm not a whore."
"I know, that's why I'm asking you nicely."
Where the fuck was that guy coming from? Loan stared back at Shaun dead in the eye and saw he was serious. He tilted his head, pouted.
"Depends on what you have to offer."
In the blink of an eye Shaun pounced on him like a beast on its prey and before he knew it Loan was nailed to the bed, his face buried in the pillow. He could feel Shaun's hand pressing on his neck with a terrifying strength and he knew he could just snap it at any moment if he liked. He felt all his bulk lunging at his frail body as he leaned forward, until he was close enough so that Loan could feel the warmth of his breath against his ear.
"Just let me get this clear ; I don't have anything to offer. I'm gonna use you. I'm gonna take everything I want from you like it's my fucking birthday. And you're gonna love it even if in the end, you'll regret it, cause that's how it goes. You're probably gonna cry but it won't stop me. I'm not gonna give you my number, I'm not gonna give you a ride home, I'm not even gonna give you my name. Now if you're okay with that say yes." 
"Y-yes. Please." Loan panted. 
"Great." He said thoughtlessly before roughly pulling down Loan's jeans. 
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If you read this then it means you have vanquished this monster post, YAY! Here's a cookie to help you recover from that exhausting and traumatizing experience : 🍪
And ofc, special thanks to @ramblingpolkadots for the question! 😁 it was probably not the answer you expected but hey, it was fun to write this at least
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thegnasticious · 6 years
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Saint Bernard
“How do you bluff a bluff?”
I resent this question more than anything. I have yet to have an accurate answer for my crazy great Aunt, 
“Girl, how do you bluff a bluff?”
I still ignored the question. I didn’t want to answer her. In all truth to bluff a bluff, I think is a paradox so there is no way to bluff a bluff, obviously. My crazy great Aunt still just sat there, looking for some sort of answer from me. Even though she was about 70-100 now, she still wore these artificial Red nails. Blood red, every day she’d do them again and again, her house was tinted wth a smell of nail polish, and she seemed to like it that way. My mother made me watch her as a sort of punishment some times. Usually my mother would be the one to sit with her and take her relentless and dementia-fed banter, but I decided to tell my mom “fuck you”, last week over a dispute with using my car late night to see my boyfriend. And that’s what got me here.
“You know what we used to do with silent girls like you when I was young? We’d take you out for drinks get you real real drunk, and we’d be pouring our drinks out the whole time. The next day, the whole town knew what you was keepin’ so silent about. In this old age, I feel I can tell you what this little girl was once silent about”,
She said and pulled out a postcard from her purse. She handed it to me, the postcard had a picture of a giant lake, with mountainous bluffs on both sides. The top of the post card read,
“Greetings! From Lake Minniwauken”.
“That’s where I first saw them. They were the ones who keep everyone silent. Normally these things, they hide in the woods and they wait to find you when you least expect it. No one knows the true story, but I’ll tell you what little girl, when I was younger, I got the nerve to go up to bluffs real late at night. Everyone in my actual family, who is long dead now, told me to never go up there but I did. And I’ll tell you what, that night when I got to the top, I saw a spacecraft as big as the lake. A giant black almond far below where clouds should lie, touching from cliff to cliff. The water below coursed and waved from the energy. These dark giant shadows climbed down to the cliffs. They daunted me in size. I could see them slipping through the trees around me. They sounded like cicadas, the closer they got, this growing pitch. When they were right in proximity of me, I froze, and all of a sudden I could feel them sort of in my head. They showed me years and years passing by in a matter of seconds, all of the mistakes I should avoid to become the person you see today. 
But soon after they re-mixed my thoughts, and I couldn’t even find the trails I used to get in. Every time I thought I found an exit to the park, I’d re-enter, like it was a maze. After walking the whole lake, I finally found an old trail on the North side was open. I could swear I walked past it numerous times and it was covered by a landslide of rocks, but on 2 or so passes the rocks seemed to just disappear. I followed this trail and found my way out through the Indians. The reason we never talked of this before is because last night those same shadows came to my room, and froze me just the same. They said they were going to take you”.
I was out of her house in a quick fashion after that. It wasn’t too long until I met up with my boyfriend, Jon at a diner in town.
“I’ve missed you so much Katie, being stuck in a rigid job isn’t all the fun I thought it would be. I think I need some time away from everything, I was thinking of joining my Cousin in a short trip to Lake Minniwauken, would you want to go?”.
he said, I thought it over for a few moments, and figured it was just some sort of odd coincidence. 
“Sure, how long are we gonna be gone for?” I said.
“Maybe a week, my Cousin has this massive tent, and we can cover the fees of camping and what not. We are thinking of going next week. He was bringing his girlfriend as well, so it’s not just like us, you know. It’s the closest major lake to here, so we figured it would be the best. I hear there is some ghosts too, should be right up your alley”, he said.
“I’d love to go.” I said.
In a matter of no time, I was on the road with my boyfriend, his cousin Gerald, and Gerald’s girlfriend, Amanda . “Men At Work”, blasted whilst the greens and tans of the countryside filtered into the thick forest greens. The forests were thick, and went for miles without a gas station or any sense of life. We played American pop music the whole drive. Mainly because of my boyfriend’s uncle, he happened to be an avid collector of Americana, and sometimes we found ourselves ditching the discos for his mix-tapes. He was a gigantic influence on Jon, and his whole car playlist was stained by his preference. Though the man could be a bit stuck up, he had some damn good taste, and you could hear it from track to track on the ride down. I didn’t know what to expect of Lake Minniwauken, at this point the darkness and oddity of my great Aunt’s stories was fading. Jon said it was one of the biggest lakes he’d ever been to, the forests were unlike anything else he’d ever seen. Amanda and Gerald were silent about the whole thing, exchanging smiles with us, but not saying much. Amanda was on the atlas for directions, so Gerald was probably mostly fixed to the road. They didn’t seem to mind us much. I tried to grab a book from Jon’s bag, but he kocked my hand out of the way and sifted one out himself and handed it to me. The title was “The Strange History of Lake Minnwauken”.
“Oooooo”. I said in a gleeful way and opened it up.
The first pages had illustrations of the lake early and semi-new. It seemed like an older book. As I turned to the first chapter it read, 
“Lake Minnwauken: Lake of Dark Spirits”.
As I read on, I tried to picture what I was reading. 
I could see the indians that were said to once inhabit the lake, coming to it early in the morning sun. Shadows patrolling the lake startled them and they thought it to be the whites. When they recognized these shadows as spirits, they named the lake, Lake Minniwauken, or as some call it “The Devil’s Lake”. After trying to inhabit the coasts of the lake, some of the indians found their own unexplainably drowned in the lake after the first night’s rest. It was unclear whether they drowned themselves, or something else had. It wasn’t long before they pulled back to the bluffs surrounding, but now they found some of their men jumping off the bluffs in a trance-like state by the 2nd morning, always the ones on watch. They huddled in lean-tos and continued hunting with minimal patrols. For all the resources they built, most would be sacked in the middle of the night. Disease started to become more prevalent as the seasons progressed and soon enough settlers would kill what was left of the indians.
The question I found myself asking after reading this, in my own way admittedly, was were they truly killed by settlers? Or were they dead upon arrival, and these spirits had long possessed the living ones turning them into what history recognizes as the settlers. These dark shadows my aunt spoke of, seemed to possess people, like they had her. 
I didn't want to creep out my fellow passengers, so I kept my qualms to myself. The lush greens outside started to show the grey rocks of the bluffs and the dips of the valleys. I could tell we were now nearing something quite different. I had to pop my ears a few times as the road dipped here and there. Jon was long asleep on my shoulder kinda drooling and snoring, I had to knock him a few times to get him to stop. Soon enough I found myself drifting off. A quick black encompassed me, and then we were pulling up. Jon was shaking me awake this time. As I opened my eyes, I could see the Lake not too far off. It glimmered in the evening sun. You could hear music playing on the beach afar, surf type guitars and a Hawaiian type song. The warmth of the sun glistened all about, you could taste the snow cones and malts adorning the hands of passerby's. In a way you could feel this energy, I would call it synergy now. It was warmth, it was communion, it was why a place like that existed; to be seen, felt, and lived. The remorseful and dark stories I heard seemed to be nonexistent, you couldn’t possibly see this as the same place. I changed into a pink polka-dot bikini and ran down to the beach with Jon, Amanda and Gerald followed not too far off. I felt the sand sift between my toes as Jon gave me a quick embrace. He gave me a nice big kiss, it was special though, something in me, like an electricity connected with him. I knew I wouldn’t forget it. We swam out pretty far, to the deep, and messed around far out of sight. We found Amanda and Gerald waiting on the beach as we swam back. They already set up a little beach site with an umbrella, some towels and a basket. They were cute like that, they always had themselves together and organized whilst Jon and I were half-naked in the lake. 
I was soaking wet, so I asked Amanda for a towel. She handed me with a smile.
“How’s the water?” she asked. 
“Cold in some spots, warm in others”, I said and smiled, wiping off my legs.
“Gerald and I were thinking about going in, but I don’t like the seaweed, it scares me. My grandma said she once saw a boy drowned to death from seaweed in Michigan. I feel like it can grab you”, she said.
I went and tickled her side,
“I can grab you”, I said and kind of laughed.
She smiled back and went back to Gerald. 
She was kind of cute. If I was guy.......
I took a walk after fully drying off. Jon joined me. We held hands and talked about life, what schools we were planning on going to, if we wanted to stay together, you know, the whole 9 yards. The thing I couldn’t tell Jon was how I felt for Amanda and just girls in general. I was a girl, but I liked girls, even when I was younger. My parent’s always thought it was just that I was a Tom Boy, and I had trouble relating with the opposite sex but it wasn’t just that. Guys didn't interest me, yes they pleasured me, but at the end of the day, they just end, you know. It’s the same thing on a different day, and I feel for routine but is it really your spouse’s problem when you can’t get it up because you think you can’t afford it. It wasn’t like that with a girl, and that’s what breaks all men. The realization that sometimes I don’t just look special for him, or hold his hand because I really care about him. To a woman who values herself, her projection is her hand in a game of cards and the interpretation is the wager. 
My mother always said it was simple, it was because I didn’t want to be satisfied. That I attracted my own difficulty, but as I feel the warmth of Jon’s hand and the care of his eyes, I feel like a monster.
As we walked on, I could see a plaque not too far off. I headed towards it. Oddly enough the plaque had information about the first settlers on it. There was a picture of the family, and the all looked oddly alike. It might be that at that time people were generally expressionless in pictures (for whatever reason). The family was called The Roches (pronounced Roaches). I thought of what these people would of looked like to the Indians. Their hotel burning bright where their brethren had just fallen. Somehow the night never seeping into the corners of their life’s. Maybe there was more of a reason behind their expressionless life than it seemed. Maybe the lack of expression was still a play on our time. You never really understand it until you think about it. How did they truly live, and if they did exist, their existence is truly alien to what we would label modern. You could see how many of these settlers inspired visions of the cosmos to natives and why that is seldom talked about in history is a very good question to me. 
We walked back to beach. Gerald and Amanda were in the water now. We cozied up at the beach site and made a bit to eat. The day carried on at a calm pace. I watched the waves crash, Jon held me and for once I could feel a sense of silence.
After a few hours, we packed the beach stuff up and got headed to the campsite. Gerald had a giant Black and White tent he brought, it took all of us to set it up, and it was well dark by the time we finally did. It had room for all of us, but I’m an insomniac without being caught in a tent so sleep was not in sight for me. I tried to sleep by Jon for some time, he hit the snooze hard and was already snoring away. The heat of the dry air began to get to me, and I just started getting itchy, and generally uncomfortable. It didn’t seem to phase any of them. I decided to go through Jon’s bag in search of these pot brownies we made, I found them and ate one. It was pretty good so I decided to eat Jon’s share as well. I realized at that moment, that the lake, and the bluffs were pretty accessible. Earlier that day I had spotted the trail to the bluffs so I decided to use my insomnia to something beneficial. I grabbed a flashlight from Jon’s bag and continued though the side trails. It was dark, like real dark, you couldn’t see your hand if you put it right in front of you. I could see the moonlight glistening my long brunette hair. I thought of myself like a siren of a night. No swimming for me tonight though. My thoughts were further meshing with the strong Brownie I had just eaten, and I even forgot how I got there or why I was there. I just felt this pull, moving me towards the bluff trails, almost like a gravity. Then there was a bright, bright light. Stopped me right in my tracks.
“Ma’am you’re going to have to turn around. You seem to be lost”.
A man almost double my size stood with two partners, guns at waist. 
One man held a bright light to my eyes.
I could still make out that they were uniformed though. Military personnel in particular. 
“I’m sorry I just wandered from the camp site, I’m lost, I’m not from around here, do you know where camp site F is?”, I said. I didn’t really know our camp site name but I figured it sounded logical.
They pointed me back the way I came, and said that the way was right up the only lighted road near the concessions Chateau. 
I walked back, and they followed me most of the way.
Finally around the Chateau they cautiously broke from my trail, but still seemed to have an eye on me.
My eyes grew accustomed to the dark of the night, and I no longer needed the flashlight. I went back down towards the beach, crouching all along the beach wall, once I knew they were distracted I continued back up the bluff trail they were no longer blocking. 
The moonlight seemed to light my way up the old rock stairs. I could hear a voice in the back of my head, telling me where to step and what to avoid, I usually ignored this subconscious banter but this once it guided me. Even though no footsteps followed me, I still had a feeling of being watched. I constantly stopped and would check the area, but I couldn’t find what I was feeling. I could feel the air thinning and even warming as I climbed higher. The forest seemed to be welcoming me. The air was lush, the path was clear and something was calling me. I didn’t want to turn around. If I could I wish that trail would continue forever. Until it does.
I reached an area that was far above the tree-line, you could make out the lake below. The chateau looked like a little model house from above, the lights of the MP jeeps below, still scouting the perimeter for god knows what. It was kinda of empty, lonely, and beautiful in a way. That was until I turned around. What appeared to be a tree’s shadow, creaked and grew towards me. Out of a dark mist came an Indian in full war garb. His face was painted like the black of the night. He cried out at me in a strange language and charged. I tried to stop him, and screamed. He pushed me off the cliff behind me with a power I had never felt in my life. I flew off the edge, flailing and screaming. I could see him looking down from above, his eyes rolling outwards to a pure White. I felt my body slam, and my consciousness go completely weightless. 
I woke up in the tent, but I was the only one there. My friends had all left me it seemed. I unzipped the tent’s flaps to see all the other tents gone. Our tent was the only one standing. There was an odd fog about, and it was chilly, much colder than the night before. I could hear an odd orchestral music playing from the Chateau. I decided to head towards it, as I got closer, it grew quieter. When I was right next to the Chateau. The music seemed to cease, and all I could see was darkness. The usually open doors were barred closed. I continued on down the trail, and I could swear not only music began to emit but a faint light. I headed back and there was nothing again. It was honestly very beautiful music, and it seemed to echo throughout the park, singing with the wood of the trees. I walked the lake for most of the night, until you could see the sun rising on the lake water and hear the fish jumping to the warmth. With every pass the lights in the Chateau would glow and dim with it’s phantom orchestra appearing and disappearing just as fast. I didn’t seem to be phased by the exercise, like I could keep going forever. I don’t know if I felt lost or found, or both. I was in a state of loss. I could see that indians eyes rolling outwards, his mouth opening and splitting, a black demon coming out from inside. And a funny voice, that sounded like my crazy great aunt said quite audibly “That ain’t no Indian, girl”.
And then I saw a shadow walking right down the beach towards me. When it got closer, I made it’s attributes out better, I seemed to be glowing at it like a bright light, and it was me. The thing looked at me in a disgusted manner and walked off in a fast speed. Constantly look back at me like I was going to attack or something. A loud voice then filled my head. 
“That is the last you will ever see of yourself. From this day forward what you become is a shadow of that”.
It was odd but I felt it. When that thing looked at me, it was more me than me. I really felt as if it took my face right from me, or maybe I never wanted to be myself. Or I was abducted. That must be it, and my friends are still looking. I know them come knocking, I know they’ll be calling my name, I know it, I just know it. 
That was when I looked at the Lake’s water and I could see Jon, he was crying. Gerald was assuring him that I had just left, because I was fed up with them, he said he could tell I was going to leave the whole time, I couldn’t handle the whole trip from the car ride and on. Amanda was looking around the campsite for any traces of me. My parents I could see as well, they thought I ran away from home. I left without telling them admittedly, in anger. The vision continued on to clocks spinning and breaking, and me circling the lake, a color for every spent, a craziness in the multitude of patterns. At that moment I heard my crazy great Aunt’s voice in my head loud and clear,
“find the trail”, it said.
I found myself heading towards a pile of rocks I had passed at least ten times on the North side. It was an odd formation because in the dark it looked like a Devil’s face. But this time it seemed to have completely disappeared. It revealed a new trail which climbed up the North bluff, a place said to be completely untouched and unknown to most people. The reason being, by what I read in Jon’s book was a local Rock Quarry that relocated much of their mineral deposits, covering a burial ground of ancient indians. As I went down the trail I could hear thousands of voices coming from the North Bluffs. I could make out people I new even, seemingly trapped here. As I could feel the energy of the area grow, the sky grew a deep purple. I looked down at the lake and it now looked blood red. I could see thousands of bodies moving in the water from afar. I tired to ignore it, but it didn’t seem to go away, and the voices were growing to a booming volume as I neared the burial site. A dark tunnel seemed to be emanating most of the noise, it wasn’t far ahead. I could tell this was the burial site my crazy great Aunt spoke of. I went into the tunnel and below I could see torches all lit around a mound in the ground. The room was about the size of a ware house and solid stone. As I entered the room, A gust blew hard, knocking me over, the dirt stirred from the burial grounds below, showing 7 skeletons 4 about normal sized and 3 that were easily 7 foot giants.
3 black shadows grew from the giant skeletons and approached me. I froze in my steps. I couldn’t speak or breathe or move. I was completely paralyzed. They looked into me and through me. I could feel them sifting through my memories like files. Then I heard them.
“Much of my family was like you. You are my family. We the true indians of this park, the leaders or chieftains never came from anyone. We were dropped from the stars, to make our own little stars of existence about this planet. The dark shadows of this lake killed us, and stole our skin. They painted us as savages to turn us into nothing, and to us this they was both the darkness and the new settlers. But what these new settlers did not realize is their actions much paralleled the darkness and and by trying to control it they would be overcome by it. This darkness has taken your skin. you are apart of this nonexistent burial ground. Should you find your last life by luck or chance, you will be rendered insane. There is no light without a shadow. We will render you free, if you will disappear just as we did. None of us, even the best can stay among these shadows for too long. The diseases are a cover-up for evil roots of capitalization. It all starts at how they routed us out. This place has taken many life’s and put them somewhere new we want to do that for you but if you choose to go back you will be stuck here forever”.
The torches dimmed a little. and they released me. I took a deep breath and looked back at the lake. I didn’t know what to say. I was not ready for decisions such as these. I turned around and went back to the lake I slipped my clothes off and jumped in, my naked body glistening in the moonlight. I swam from the shore to where I could no longer touch, and I decided to keep going. I dipped my head under the water and rose it up, to find darkness all around. I kicked my feet out, and no bottom was to be found. I kind of panicked, realizing that I had no clue where I was, I swam back as far as I could, and it only seemed to grow deeper. It started to rain, and it felt like the water’s temperature was dropping. I could feel my muscles cramping up and giving out. it wasn’t long before I stopped trying to swim and I sunk into the black
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