Luke writes songs for Julie and puts them in a box just in case he crosses over and he can’t write with her anymore. He wants her to continue on, and if that means Luke writing 50 songs for her to put on her future albums, he will do it. He just wants her to be okay and have a piece of his heart even when he’s gone. When that day comes, she finds the box with a note on top that says, “Never stop writing, never stop singing, never stop loving. I’ll love you forever my wicked beauty, you’re a star. Love, Luke.” She records every song except for Wicked Beauty.
happy holidays @darkalinas!! here’s an extra-angsty nodrian fic for the gift exchange hosted by you and @scxundress!!
wc: 1388
tw: death, angst in general (i went all out)
Nova’s eyes filled with tears as she stood over Adrian, gun in hand, finger hovering over the trigger.
“Pull the trigger, Little Nightmare,” Ace whispered behind her. “You can make the decision for yourself now. His parents made the decision for you all those years ago. It’s your turn, Nova. Pull the trigger.”
Adrian only stared at her, still shirtless, a hand pressed to his arm where Honey had cut away his tattoo.
“Pull the trigger, Nova. Kill him. End this, and we will start anew.”
Perhaps the worst thing was that Adrian didn’t say anything. He wouldn’t even look at her, instead staring blankly past her. She could tell that he was in pain. He sat so still that the only sign of movement was the shaky rise and fall of his chest.
Pull the trigger.
Her mouth moved this time, whispering quietly to herself.
A chill swept over the room, announcing the arrival of Phobia. He settled behind Ace, watching her from the shadows.
Nova adjusted her grip on the gun, her hands sweaty and her arms shaking. This was her revenge. She had been waiting for this for 10 years, and yet, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t.
She remembered the night where she’d lost everything. Evie’s silenced cries, the dull thud of her parents’ bodies hitting the floor. Her labored breathing as she stood over the sleeping hitman, waiting for the Renegades to come, whispering over and over to herself to pull the trigger and that the Renegades would come.
The Renegades didn’t come, but Ace Anarchy did. He had saved her, and raised her and fueled her hatred for the Renegades, using her as his weapon to destroy.
She’d been blind for so long. They’d never cared about her, Ace especially. They hardly cared for each other. When she’d killed Ingrid there was no mourning. In fact, they’d hardly mentioned it.
She wasn’t an Anarchist, not anymore. They’d never truly been her family, and could never replace the family she’d lost. Of course, she would rather die than become a Renegade.
She wouldn’t kill Adrian. She couldn’t kill Adrian.
“No.”
Adrian’s eyes snapped to hers, something incomprehensible on his face.
“No?” Ace laughed. “You dare defy me? He is a Renegade. The very thing you despise more than anything.” He scoffed. “I always knew you were weak. Just like your parents. Unable to do what needs to be done. I should have had you killed too.”
“You did it. It was you.” Her voice quavered, barely over a whisper. She wanted to scream, to yell, to ask him why, how he could kill his own family, but the battle still raged around them, getting closer and closer. Her jaw clenched, heart pounding in her ears.
In that moment everything was clear. Ace would stop at nothing for power, and she could stop at nothing to stop him. He was right, this was her one chance for revenge, but not against the Renegades. Against him.
This ended now. She spun around, pointing the gun at Ace.
Pull the trigger.
Her arms started to shake, finger twitching over the trigger.
Ace sneered. “Even now, you can’t do it. Pathetic. Kill him.” He motioned at Adrian and Phobia moved in the shadows, his scythe glinting.
Nova squeezed the trigger.
She winced at the blast as it echoed around the chamber of the cathedral. Ace stared at her, eyes wide as he stumbled back.
A loud crash sounded from below. Nova looked over the edge to see the Captain climbing up the wall. He was climbing impossibly fast, determined to save his son.
A shadow loomed behind her. Phobia raised his scythe, ready to end Adrian in the same as Callum.
Nova acted without thinking. As the blade fell she ran to him and pushed Adrian to the side. He gasped in pain, and a second later in horror. The scythe was embedded in her stomach. Ace laughed, hand pressed to his thigh.
“I guess it was all for nothing. How’s it feel, Insomnia, to die for nothing? You sacrificed your life for him, but you’re outnumbered. He will die, and you will watch. If you even last that long. Maybe I’ll make him watch as you bleed out, helpless, and then kill him. Or maybe I’ll keep him around just long enough to make his parents watch.”
Nova stumbled back against the wall, hand pressed to her stomach, praying that the Captain was close and could at least save Adrian.
Something clattered behind her and the Captain launched himself at Ace. They disappeared from Nova’s view and Phobia floated after them, leaving Nova and Adrian alone.
Adrian watched as Nova pressed a hand to her stomach, staring at the blood that stained her hands. Her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, still staring at her bloody hand.
“Nova!”
Adrian rushed to her side, kneeling beside her and gathering her in his arms. One hand was pressed against her stomach in an attempt to stop the blood loss.
“You’re going to be okay, Nova. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Adrian.”
He stood up with her in his arms, looking around desperately for anything to help, but everyone was fighting.
“Adrian. There’s nothing you can do.”
He looked down at her, and Nova could see tears forming in his eyes, threatening to fall. “No. No,” His voice broke. “I have to do something, there has to be a way-”
She reached up, cupping his cheek with her hand, still smeared with blood. He sunk down, still cradling her in his arms. One of his hands covered hers, squeezing her hand slightly. His tears began to fall, splashing gently against her face.
“Nova, I-”
“Please don’t say you love me,” Nova whispered.
“What?” He choked out.
“That makes leaving so much harder.”
“You are not dying. You can’t. I love you, Nova. I have for so long.”
Adrian just shook his head, holding her closer and burying his face in her hair.
“Adrian.”
“I love you.” He whispered once again.
Her hand slipped from his cheek, smearing blood down his face as it fell to his chest, right over his heart.
“Nova!” Her eyes were starting to glaze over and her breathing was ragged as her eyes struggled to focus on him.
“Make sure we win, Adrian. Destroy him. Destroy my uncle. He can’t win.” Her words slurred together. Adrian cupped her face. Her skin was so cold and pale, it was as if she was a ghost.
Her eyes started to unfocus, and he shook her gently, bringing her eyes back to his.
“Hey, look at me. We’ll win, and you’ll be there to see it. Just hold on, Nova. Hold on. For me.” He took his hand off of her stomach, threading his blood-soaked fingers through hers instead. He kissed her hand, ignoring the metallic taste of blood. He held her hand against his cheek, closing his eyes and leaning into it, searching for any warmth that might remain.
“Adrian?”
He opened his eyes. The pain behind his eyes broke her heart.
“I love you.”
Adrian smiled, ever so slightly. He leaned down, kissing her as gently as he could, only for a second. When he pulled away, she was smiling, her eyes closed.
Adrian’s suit was covered in blood, his helmet discarded beside them. His attempts to stop the bleeding had been unsuccessful, and they were both soaked from the blood pooled around them.
Nova’s breathing was forced, and her eyes unable to stay open. She gave his hand a weak squeeze before her hand loosened its grip and her hand fell open on the ground.
“Nova.” Adrian shook her, gently at first, then harder. She didn’t wake.
He fumbled for her pulse, desperately waiting for anything, just one beat.
“Nova, please. Please don’t leave me, it’s almost over. We’re going to win, Nova. Everything will be fine, it’s almost over. You can’t leave before it’s over. Please.” He broke down, cradling her head against his chest.
An explosion rang through the air near them. Wiping his tears away, Adrian stood up with Nova’s body in his arms. He brought her to the sidelines, away from harm, and donned his helmet.
blood on his palm, dripping onto the delicate fabric. akutagawa watches complacently, dizzier and paler than usual, he can’t seem to focus his vision. he stumbles only to catch himself before face planting completely, the wall acting as his crutch as a reserved ‘fu fu fu’ transforms into a full-bodied cough and his bracing hand becomes a fist, clenching through the pain.
Why the hell couldn't he and Tony get along like that? Okay, maybe it was a little strange to be jealous of a memory of your past self, but it still ticked Steve off. Tony was obviously the same person; yet, Tony had never talked to him like that, never seemed as light and easy and…happy to be around the real Steve.
And God damn the bastard, it stung.
“Thanks For the Memories,” by Wordsplat.
Fluff: ++++
Angst: +++
Smut: ++++
Overall Subjective Rating: +++++
Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/739949
And it's not like Merlin doesn't have better things to do. There are always evil plots afoot, scheming to be done, enemies to be vanquished. He's got a busy schedule.
“Set the needle on its path...” by chaletian.
Fluff: +++
Angst: +++
Smut: +
Subjective Overall Rating: +++
Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/609222
At that moment a server came and England took the wine glass with fervor, knocking back the contents in a single, fell go before handing the glass back and giving the man a short, "Another please." The server looked baffled but set down America's glass and dashed off to do as he was told.
America was staring at him as though he had three heads.
"What?" England said, perhaps just a touch too defensively.
"You have a problem, Arthur..." America said, but it wasn't a jab. It was as though the other nation were admitting it aloud as his own personal confession.
"I'm an old man..." He said dryly. "Can I not drink?"
America just shook his head and took his own glass in hand, sipping the contents for a moment before putting the glass down. There was a dull, dark look in those eyes and they reminded him slightly of less peaceful times. "You're going to get drunk tonight, aren't you?" America said slowly, looking up at him.
"Why?" England retorted. "Do you intend to stop me?"
"No..." America shook his head, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "Let me drink with you."
Fanfic Rec: “The Silken Rose,” by snowyfoxpaws.
Fluff: ++++
Angst: +++
Smut: ++++
Overall Subjective Rating: ++++
Read it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1559756
